THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS OF
CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL
RICHARD GAMESON
Despite extensive rebuilding during the Gothic era, Canterbury
Cathedral retains a modest wealth of Romanesque fabric and sculpture,
which patently is or was of a very high quality. Probably the best
known part of this material is the magnificent crypt, with the carved
capitals therein being the most celebrated portion of all.
The Romanesque sculpture of the cathedral has recently been
examined in a handsome monograph, a large section of which is,
appropriately, devoted to the crypt. 1 Here the famous column
capitals are illustrated and authoritatively discussed both in their own
right and in relation to a range of comparative material. Chief
amongst the comparative material which the author cites are, reasonably
enough, manuscript illuminations. Canterbury was an important
centre of book production and decoration from the tenth century
until well into the twelfth (as indeed earlier). There were two active
scriptoria in the town, one associated with Christ Church (the
cathedral) itself, the other with St. Augustine's Abbey, and, despite
subsequent losses, many books which are decorated to a greater or
lesser degree survive from the Anglo-Norman period. Given significant
bodies of art-work in stone and manuscript which are firmly
attributable to one centre during the early Romanesque period, it is
clearly of great interest and importance to explore the interrelationship
between work in the two media; and, as we have noted,
the aforementioned monograph draws many parallels between the
1 D. Kahn, Canterbury Cathedral and its Romanesque Sculpture (London, 1991)
(henceforth: Kahn, Sculpture) The crypt is discussed and illustrated on 35-79. For a
further and more systematic selection of plates see (Ed.) G. Zarnecki, Canterbury:
Romanesque Work(= Courtauld Institute Illustration Archives: Archive 1: Cathedrals
and Monastic Buildings in the British Isles: Part 8; London, 1978). The latter also
includes a plan on which the capitals are numbered, and its system of numbering has
been followed here.
17
RICHARD GAMESON
sculptural and manuscript material. However, the author's discussion
proceeds from presuppositions about the relationship which,
although occasionally apposite and sometimes arguable, are often
demonstrably mistaken. Accordingly, it has seemed important to
draw attention to the basic factual problems that are involved, and
also to certain contingent issues of interpretation, lest contention and
fallacy become orthodoxy by default and are repeated as such.
In the first part of this paper we shall examine the chronology of
the capitals and the manuscript art, and assess their relationship
accordingly. In the second part we shall draw attention to various
tangential issues which bear upon the interpretation of the carvings.
THE CRYPT CAPITALS AND CANTERBURY MANUSCRIPT ART
That there are striking correspondences between some of the designs
which were carved on the crypt capitals and certain decorated initials
that were drawn in Canterbury manuscripts has long been recognised.
2 The phenomenon is not of course restricted to Romanesque
Canterbury: it can be paralleled elsewhere in England and on the
Continent during this period (the case of certain Cluniac houses, for
instance, was set out many years ago),3 and had more material
survived, it would undoubtedly be more noticeable. Moreover, when
the sculpture in question preserved the paint with which it was
originally adorned, its visual similarity to manuscript art will have
been significantly greater. 4
It is a commonplace amongst many (though by no means all)
historians of Romanesque art and sculpture that manuscripts were,
directly or indirectly, an important source of inspiration for carved
compositions and ornaments on ecclesiastical buildings. 5 Manuscript
decoration was predominantly a monastic preserve at this time.
2 See G. Zarnecki, English Romanesque Sculpture 1066-1140 (London, 1951),
22-3; T.S.R. Boase, English Art 1100-1216 (Oxford, 1953), 31-9; C.R. Dodwell, The
Canterbury School of Illumination (Cambridge, 1954), 75-8; and L. Stone, Sculpture in
Britain: the Middle Ages (2nd ed., Harmondsworth, 1972), 56-8.
3 J. Evans, Cluniac Art of the Romanesque Period (Cambridge, 1950). Much of the
book stresses the parallels between manuscript art and sculpture, emphasising the
dependence of the latter on the former; see 53-6 and 98 for general comments on the
relationship between the two.
4 Pigment still survives on several of the Canterbury capitals, as is clearly visible in
Kahn, Sculpture, Pls. I-III, VIII-IX. It is especially well preserved on no. 3 (Gabriel
Chapel).
5 See, for example, E. Male, L'Art religieux du Xlle Siecle en France. Etude sur
l'Origine de /'Iconographie du Mayen Age (Paris, 1922), available in translation as
Religious Art in France. The Twelfth Century: a Study of the Origins of Medieval
18
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
Hence, it may be argued, it was the most immediate and personal
vehicle of visual expression for a community's taste and beliefs, and
thus represented precisely the ideas and forms that the community
would most like to see translated to a larger scale, if the opportunity
presented itself. Practised in a milieu where older artistic exemplars
abounded (the book collection), manuscript decoration was also a
medium in which new ideas and designs could be worked out
relatively inexpensively. Manuscripts were portable, facilitating the
transmission of any art-work contained within them, and durable,
being less exposed to wear or the vagaries of fashion than architecture
and wall-painting, and unlikely to be destroyed for their intrinsic
material value like precious metal work. Furthermore, manuscript art
flourished from the tenth century onwards whereas the 'revival' of
stone sculpture is more a phenomenon of the eleventh century and its
greatest achievements date from the twelfth.6 Because of these and
Iconography, (Ed.) H. Bober (Princeton, 1978); Evans, Cluniac Art; and G.H.
Crichton, Romanesque Sculpture in Italy (London, 1954). For more recent studies that
explore the presumed influence of manuscripts see, inter alia, J. Gardelles, 'Recherches
sur les Origines des Fa<;ades a Etages d' Arcatures des Eglises medievales',
Bulletin Monumental, 136 (1978), 113-33; and G. Zarnecki, 'Como and the Book of
Durrow', in (Ed.) E. Fernie and P. Crossley, Medieval Architecture and its Intellectual
Context: Studies in Honour of Peter Kidson, (London, 1990), 35-45.
A. Borg, Architectural Sculpture in Romanesque Provence (Oxford, 1972), 118, on
the other hand, finds it 'difficult, if not impossible, to imagine a Romanesque sculptor
borrowing the form of his capitals from a manuscript source; if it operated at all, the
process must surely have been in reverse' while M. Bayle, Les Origines et les Premiers
Developpements de la Sculpture Romane en Normandie (= Art de Basse-Normandie
100 bis, 1992), 94-6 (discussing Fecamp), favours the possibility that the sculptors and
illuminators may have been the same people. For another very different approach see
L. Seidel, Songs of Glory: the Romanesque Far;ades of Aquitaine (Chicago, 1981).
6 See, inter alia, M.F. Hearn, Romanesque Sculpture: the Revival of Monumental
Stone Sculpture in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries (Oxford, 1981). The point can easily
be over-stressed, however, not least because the early revival of manuscript art is
predominantly a phenomenon of England and Germany, while the revival of sculpture is
principally associated with France, Spain and Italy. Furthermore, although it is now
poorly represented in surviving fabric, late Anglo-Saxon England certainly did not lack a
tradition of stone sculpture in architectural settings: most of the remaining material is
catalogued in H.M. and J. Taylor, 'Architectural Sculpture in pre-Norman England',
J.B.A.A., 3rd ser., 29 (1966),4-51; while for a probable example of an elaborate scheme
that has been entirely lost but is known from documentary sources see R.N. Quirk,
'Winchester New Minster and its Tenth Century Tower', J. B.A.A., 3rd ser., 28 (1965),
16-54. It is also difficult to assess the extent to which stucco work had in fact paved the way
for architectural sculpture: the potential of the medium is dramatically attested by the
miraculous survival at Santa Maria in Valle, Cividale (A. Haseloff, Pre-Romanesque
Sculpture in Italy (Florence, 1930), Pls. 48-50), while mid-eleventh-century Romanesque
capitals at St. Remi, Reims are in fact made of stucco (L. Grodecki, 'Les Chapiteaux en
Stuc de Saint-Remi de Reims', Stucci e Mosaici alto medioevali: Atti dell' ottavo Congresso
di Studi sull'Arte del/'alto Medioevo, I (Milan, 1962), 186-208).
19
RICHARD GAMESON
similar factors it is attractive to suppose that manuscript art played a
formative role in the development of the iconography and decorative
vocabulary of some Romanesque sculpture. However, this is far from
being an established general principle on the subject, and the whole
issue deserves careful re-examination. Certainly there are no
satisfactory reasons for assuming a priori that when, at the end of the
eleventh century, sets of sculpture and manuscript decoration are
related, the former necessarily derives from the latter.7
It has recently been claimed that 'there is abundant and compelling
evidence that the imaginative and dynamic local initial style inspired
the decoration of the [Canterbury] sculpture of this period. ' 8
Although similar thoughts may be found in the older literature on the
subject, albeit in less elaborate form, the statement should nevertheless
be regarded with caution: it is assertion, not fact. The starting
point for a just assessment of the matter must be a careful investigation
of the nature and relative chronology of the crypt capitals and
the products of the scriptorium. It is to this that we should now
address ourselves.
The Romanesque building programmes of the cathedral are relatively
well documented and have been analysed in detail by various
modern scholars. 9 The crypt was part of the gigantic eastern extension
7 A point that is sometimes adduced to support this theory is the linear, twodimensional
nature of the sculpture in question. However, there are other factors that
better account for this. It could, for instance, be the result of adhering closely to the
design sketch drawn on the surface of the stone. A Gardner, English Medieval
Sculpture (2nd ed., Cambridge, 1951), 62-3, suggests that such simple treatment
represents a logical development from flat surfaces that were decorated with paint. The
Canterbury crypt masons took a 'graphic' approach to their work, as Kahn, Sculpture,
70, stresses.
8 Kahn, Sculpture, 50 (reiterated on 15, 23, 65, 87, etc). The statement is backed up
by a reference to George Zarnecki's work of the 40s and 50s; however, she overlooks
the fact that Zarnecki then dated the sculpture a generation later than is now believed
to be the case (see n. 12 below). In a more recent allusion to the question
('Romanesque Sculpture in Normandy and England in the Eleventh Century', Proc.
Battle Conference on Anglo-Norman Studies, I (1979), 168-89 at 184) Professor
Zarnecki dates the initials to the 1090s onwards and the capitals to c. 1100;
nevertheless, the initial he cites (British Library, Royal 5. B. xv, fol. lr: his pl. 27)
certainly post-dates this point, and the manuscript comes from St. Augustine's, not
Christ Church (see further n. 33 below).
9 See F. Woodman, The Architectural History of Canterbury Cathedral (London,
1981), 23-86, esp. 45-56; also R. Gem, 'The Significance of the Eleventh-Century
Rebuilding of Christ Church and St. Augustine's, Canterbury, in the Development of
Romanesque Architecture', Medieval Art and Architecture at Canterbury before 1220
(Brit. Arch. Assoc. Conference Trans. V; 1982), 1-19. The written source material is
largely set out in R. Willis, The Architectural History of Canterbury Cathedral
(London, 1845).
20
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
that was added to Lanfranc's cathedral in Archbishop Anselm's time
to meet the needs for additional devotional space and for privacy of a
rapidly growing monastic community whose chapel was also a busy,
'public' cathedral church. This programme, 'Anselm's choir', was
certainly begun by 1096 and had probably been planned and possibly
started up to three years earlier ( the beginning of his archiepiscopate).
Progress seems to have been rapid and, according to William of
Malmesbury, the ceiling of the new choir was being painted in 1107.
Since it was necessarily the first element of the structure to be built, the
crypt may safely be dated c. 1096-c. 1100. Because two of the column
capitals remain unfinished it used to be thought that the set must have
been carved in situ, which would imply that this work could postdate
the completion of the fabric by an uncertain period 10 ( although it
would not inevitably follow that it did by very much). However,
careful examination of the mode of carving, supported by the evidence
of the method which was followed elsewhere in the Romanesque
cathedral, strongly suggests that they were in fact carved ex situ and
then inserted, the normal procedure and a far more convenient one. 11
(The unfinished capitals are assumed to have been incorporated in that
state for reasons of speed and expediency, an interpretation which is
supported by the fact that one impost and three bases are also
uncompleted.) The capitals are thus most probably exactly contemporary
with the rest of the crypt, and most recent writers have
consequently dated them to c. 1096-1100 or thereabout.12
Although some of these capitals are individually very familiar, it is
worth making a number of points about the group as a whole. First,
10 Thus Stone, Sculpture in Britain, 56 (citing Zarnecki's unpublished Ph.D. thesis).
Interestingly, Boase, English Art 1100-1216, 37, was more circumspect. The relevant
work is illustrated in Kahn, Sculpture, Ills. 33-8.
11 G. Zarnecki, 'The Romanesque Capitals in the South Transept of Worcester
Cathedral', Medieval Art and Architecture at Worcester Cathedral (Brit. Arch. Assoc.
Conference Trans. 1; 1978), 38-42 at 39; idem, 'A Romanesque Capital from
Canterbury at Chartham', Arch. Cant., xcv (1979), 1-6 at 6; and Kahn, Sculpture, 40.
12 Thus (in addition to the works cited in n. 11 above): Zarnecki, Canterbury
Cathedral: Romanesque Work, iii; and Woodman, Architectural History of Canterbury
Cathedral, 55-6. A notable exception is P. Tudor-Craig, 'St. Bernard and the
Canterbury Capitals', England in the Twelfth Century: Proceedings of the 1988
Harlaxton Symposium, (Ed.) D. Williams (Woodbridge, 1990), 205-17, who, because
of her hypothesis that Canterbury ought to derive from Cluny, cites the latest
conceivable date for carving ex situ (c. 1107) and would like (though does not defend) a
later date altogether. Incidentally, it should be noted that part of her case is effectively
pre-empted by Woodman, Architectural History of Canterbury Cathedral, 72-3; while
another part is vigorously challenged by C. Rudolph, The 'Things of Greater
Importance': Bernard of Clairvaux's Apologia and the Medieval Attitude Towards Art
(Philadelphia, 1990).
21
RICHARD GAMESON
by no means all of the capitals in the crypt are elaborately carved.
The two free-standing columns in both the Gabriel Chapel and the
Chapel of the Holy Innocents have motif-bearing capitals, as do half
of those in the central bay of the main body of the crypt; but almost
all of the remainder are topped by simple cushion or scalloped
capitals. Secondly, although the ornament on each decorated capital
has an internal coherence of its own, there does not appear to be any
overall programme behind the set as a whole. Thirdly, while the basic
sculptural treatment of the capitals is essentially the same throughout
- they are all proficiently carved in a bas-relief style ( the effectiveness
of which would originally have been enhanced by paint) - in all other
respects they fall into distinct sub-groups. Because of the damaged
condition of some of the surfaces it is not always possible to identify
individual hands with certainty; nevertheless distinctions in choice of
motif, in treatment and in finish clearly reveal several craftsmen to
have been at work. 13
One sculptor, whose work appears in the Chapel of the Holy
Innocents, is characterised by his use of tyBically Anglo-Saxon foliage
motifs ( capital no. 1: see Plates I and II). 4 The same hand or a close
colleague was responsible for the neighbouring capital (no. 2: see
Plate 111), 15 which, interestingly, is the only one that bears designs
which really parallel the early post-Conquest Christ Church initials,
as we shall see. To a different craftsman, whose vocabulary was
related but more progressive and who liked a 'soft' finish, may be
attributed one of the capitals in the Gabriel Chapel (no. 3: see Plate
IV). 16 His foliage forms and double-bodied dragon motif presage the
vocabulary of certain twelfth-century initials. A significant amount of
paint remains on the work of this 'transitional master', enabling us
better to gauge its original effect: the background was coloured
reddy-purple, the contours of the beasts were emphasised by a black
outline, and at least some of the foliage was painted in ochre.
All the carvings that have been mentioned so far share the fact that
they preserve the basic cushion capital shape. None of the other
sculpture, by contrast, does: elsewhere the entirety of each face is
treated as a single field for design. This is the case, for example, on
the other decorated capital in the Gabriel Chapel (no. 4: see Plates V
and VI), 17 which displays the work of the most advanced artist, the
13 See also the brief discussion of Woodman, Architectural History of Canterbury
Cathedral, 54-5, on this point.
14 Kahn, Sculpture, Ills. 55 and 109.
15 Ibid., Ills. 51-2.
16 Ibid., Ill. 43; Pls. VIII-IX.
17 Ibid., Ills. 66, 70, 77; Pls. I-IV (the last incorrectly labelled) and VI.
22
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
PLATE I
(Photo: Courtauld Institute of Art)
Canterbury Cathedral Crypt, Capital 1 (Holy Innocents' Chapel), east side.
23
RICHARD GAMESON
PLATE II
(Photo: Courtau/d Institute of Art)
Capital 1 (Holy Innocents' Chapel), west side.
24
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
-
- i::
- .
0
N
·5."'
u
25
RICHARD GAMESON
'Gabriel Chapel Master'. Apart from using the entire face as a single
field, the Gabriel Chapel Master is distinguished from his neighbour
(and from the other mason) by the harsher finish of his work and its
bolder and more audacious design. From his hand sprang the famous
cavorting animal musicians, and to him ( or a close follower) should
probably be attributed most, if not all, of the decorated capitals
within the main body of the crypt. These bear different though
interrelated desins, most of them quite bizarre (nos. 7, 8, 11 and 12:
see Plate VII) . 1 Finally, in another mode, though possibly in the
same style (the damaged surface makes the finish difficult to assess) is
capital 16, which has a single subject on each face. These are the only
carvings in the crypt that could be construed as illustrative. 19
A definitive analysis of the various artistic personalities that are
here provisionally identified is beyond the scope of this paper.
Sufficient, however, has been said to draw attention to what is of
special relevance in this context, namely the differences themselves,
and, in particular, the striking contrast between the vocabulary of the
first, retrospective, hand and that of his more progressive colleagues.
Also significant is the fact that all the sculptors were skilled craftsmen
in their own perfected vocabularies. The distinctions between their
work clearly have nothing to do with technical proficiency, and must,
therefore, be due to other factors, such as differences in taste,
training, race or age. It is not impossible, for example, that the first
mason belonged to an older generation than the others. These
imponderables usefully remind us that we know nothing about the
origins, training and previous experience of any of these masons.
Turning to the Canterbury manuscripts of the early Romanesque
period, we find that few of them may be precisely dated and that a
degree of uncertainty, therefore, surrounds the chronological evolution
of the two scriptoria in the half century after the Norman
Conquest. Nevertheless, sufficient books are datable that, with
analysis of the codicology and script of the corpus, the broad outlines
of development are clear. 20 The relevant details may be summarised
here.
At Christ Church after the dual interruptions of the Conquest in
18 Ibid., Ills. 60, 62-3, 81-2 and 94-5; Pls. V and X.
19 Ibid., Ills. 90, and 92-3. Parallels from the Bestiary have been adduced for the
animal on the south face (see Zarnecki, 'Romanesque Capital from Canterbury at
Chartham, 4; reiterated by Kahn, Sculpture, 62).
20 The fundamental study is Dodwell, Canterbury School. This should be supplemented
by C.M. Kauffmann, Romanesque Manuscripts 1066-1190 (London, 1975),
Cats. 6-8, 10, 17-22, 41-4; by A. Lawrence, 'Manuscripts of Early Anglo-Norman
Canterbury', Medieval Art and Architecture at Canterbury before I220, 101-111 (whose
26
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
PLATE IV
(Photo: Courcauld Institute of Art)
Capital 3 (St. Gabriel's Chapel), south side.
27
RICHARD GAMESON
PLATE V
(Photo: Courtauld Institute of Art)
Capital 4 (St. Gabriel's Chapel), west side: work of the Gabriel Chapel Master.
28
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
PLATE VI
(Photo: Courtauld Institute of Art)
Capital 4 (St. Gabriel's Chapel), north side: work of the Gabriel Chapel Master.
29
RICHARD GAMESON
PLATE VII
(Photo: Courtau/d Institute of Art)
Capital 7 (main body of the crypt), south side: work of the Gabriel Chapel Master.
30
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
1066 and then of the catastrophic fire in the following year, book
production was enthusiastically undertaken and seems to have been
prosecuted with considerable haste. Because of the new scholarly
interests of the Norman ecclesiastics, most notably Archbishop
Lanfranc himself, along with the loss of some part of the preConquest
library in the conflagration of 1067, the emphasis was on
copying key texts rapidly, and little attention was paid to 'frills' like
decoration. The library books which were written during the generation
after the Conquest are often holograph, they vary noticeably in
format and preparation, and have minimal ornamentation, occasionally
none at all.21 Such decoration as was supplied is very
chronological framework is slightly hazy: most of the manuscripts discussed are of late
eleventh-century date but towards the end some from the first quarter of the twelfth
century are introduced without this being clearly signalled); and by my 'English
Manuscript Art in the late Eleventh Century: Canterbury and its Context', in (Ed.)
R. Eales and R. Sharpe Canterbury and the Norman Conquest: Churches, Saints and
Scholars 1066-1109, (London, forthcoming). The great majority of the manuscripts
which are reasonably ascribable to the late eleventh century as opposed to the twelfth
may be found conveniently listed in H. Gneuss, 'A Preliminary List of Manuscripts
Written or Owned in England up to 1100', Anglo-Saxon England, 9 (1981), 1-60.
21 Typical is Durham Cathedral Library, MS B. II. 10, which is datable to before
1096. This has but a single decorated initial which is nine lines high and is set within
one column of a two-column page (R.A.B. Mynors, Durham Cathedral Manuscripts
(Oxford, 1939), no. 38, Pl. 26; Lawrence, 'Manuscripts of Early Anglo-Norman
Canterbury', Pl. XXXIIlc).
Also from this generation and datable are:
Durham B. IV. 24, (pre-1096), which is in part probably from Christ Church and has
no decoration.
Cambridge University Library, MS Kk. 1. 23 (probably pre-c. 1093) which has a
single crudely-drawn decorated initial (see P.R. Robinson, Catalogue of Dated and
Datable Manuscripts c. 737-1600 in Cambridge Libraries 2 vols (Woodbridge, 1988), I,
no. 63; II, Pl. 43).
Cambridge University Library, MS Ii. 3. 33 (written between 1079 and 1101) (Ibid.
I, 58; II, Pl. 32) which has three simple decorated initials on fol. Sr, and only arabesque
initials thereafter.
Cambridge, Trinity College, MS B. 3. 5 (probably pre-c. 1093) which has one very
simple dragon initial (Ibid I, no. 91; II, Pl. 55).
Cambridge, Trinity College, MS B. 5. 28 (probably pre-c. 1093) which has four
decorated initials, two of which are of high quality (Ibid., I, no. 93; II, Pl. 56; see
further n. 22 below).
And from late in the period: Cambridge, Trinity College, MSS 0. 4. 34; 0. 10. 28;
and 0. 10. 31, which share a scribe who wrote a charter of 1107. The first has three very
feeble decorated initials; the second has one very crude historiated initial (by the same
hand); the last has coloured initials alone.
For further illustrations of initials from this period see Dodwell, Canterbury School,
Pls. 10b and d; 11 b; 44a; and 45c. Manuscripts completely lacking decoration are
Oxford, St John's College, MS 89; and Windsor, St George's Chapel Library, MS 5.
Only three of Kahn's comparative illustrations (53-4 and 76) are from manuscripts of
this period.
31
RICHARD GAMESON
restricted both in size and amount, and consists of a few small
decorated initials, sometimes no more than one. (Their scale is
concealed when they are, as so often, reproduced out of context.)
They vary noticeably in quality, and, with the exception of one artist
whose surviving oeuvre consists merely of three initials,22 the hands
responsible for these letters were not especially skilful. These unobtrusive
letters are constructed of differing combinations of tubes and
foliage, often with beasts and masks, and occasionally with human
figures intertwined. The decorative vocabulary and the foliage forms
of the best of these early initials are indeed quite closely comparable
to those which were used on two faces of one of the less advanced
crypt capitals ( cap. 2; Holy Innocents' Chapel: see Plate Ill, the left
hand of the two sides shown). 23 It is not impossible that the latter
derive directly from them, though an indirect relationship is more
likely as we shall see. The designs on the third face of this capital and
on two faces of the other capital in this chapel, it will be recalled, are
more retrospective: they use foliage motifs that are archetypical of
late Anglo-Saxon art (see Plates I and II, and III right-hand side).24
This, however, is all: the ornamental repertoire that adorns other
capitals, those in the main body of the crypt and the Gabriel Chapel,
is very different, and patently cannot have been inspired by the
products of the late eleventh-century scriptorium, let alone by those
of its pre-Conquest forerunner.
As the extant Christ Church manuscripts from this period are
almost all library volumes, not service books, it might reasonably be
suggested that more adventurous decoration of a higher quality was
originally supplied in the latter. The fortunate survival of two
liturgical books - a gradual of late eleventh-century date now at
Durham,25 and an early twelfth-century pontifical in Dublin26
-
22 Found in Cambridge University Library, MS Ff. 3. 9 (Dodwell, Canterbury
School, Pl. llb) and Cambridge, Trinity College, MS B. 5. 28 (Ibid., Pl. 10d).
23 North side and south side: Kahn, Sculpture, Ills. 51-4.
24 Cap. 2, east side; cap. 1, east and west sides (Kahn, Sculpture, Ills. 39, 55, 104 and
109). See further G. Zarnecki, 'The Winchester Acanthus in Romanesque Sculpture',
Wallraf-Richartz Jahrbuch, xvii (1955), 1-4. Numerous Anglo-Saxon manuscripts
which have frames with such ornament are illustrated in E. Temple, Anglo-Saxon
Manuscripts 900-1066 (London, 1976). Kahn, Sculpture, 51, on the other hand, 'thinks
it unlikely that the artists were consciously reviving Anglo-Saxon designs' and believes
them to be following manuscript art which was still current at Canterbury. This she
'supports' by reference to an initial in Durham Cathedral Library, MS A. II. 4, the
second part of the famous two-volume Bible that was written in Normandy and given
to Durham by William of St. Calais Carilef (Bishop of Durham 1080-96)!
25 Durham, University Library, MS Cosin V. v. 6. Folio 79r is reproduced in colour
on a postcard available from the library. If it is indeed a Carilef book (to be identified
with item 32 on the list of his donation), as seems likely, it is datable to pre-1096. On
32
,. . --.- ·---,
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
PLATE VIII
. ___.,. _ v K,!.H • "" -r 11 ·P1.u:·
p..l-:,":-1'-' ..:"'f-• J1t-..,cllt1Jt 1:,-·Pttit.
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: 111111111 jlll l'"'I
Ut. ll"lf•lYJJlf.
ESTJJ
5 cv
TIO
(P7::ito: Courtauld /nstiture of Arc)
. . . MS Harie 624 fol. 128v (detail). Passional produced at London, Bnnsh Library,
125 s· e of complete page: 372 x 228 mm. Christ Church, Canterbury, c. · 12
33
RICHARD GAMESON
enables us to see that this was not in fact the case. Although
mutilated, the gradual still preserves three pages with decorated
initials, and these, though visually engaging, are no bigger, bolder, or
competently drawn than the best work in the contemporary library
books. Their form reflects the same taste for simple, small-scale
'fantasy' initials: the S on fol. 79r, for example, is ornamented with
beast head terminals, each spewing a human head, and has a dog and
a griffin within its curves. Like their counterparts in lower-grade
books, these provide a few general analogies for some of the motifs
used in the crypt, but do not correspond with any specific carvings
there and are unlikely to have served as their inspiration. The
pontifical, a bishop's book, is a larger and more imposing volume;
however, it is entirely without decoration. Its initials are all plain.
It seems to have been at the end or around the turn of the century
that the Christ Church scriptorium achieved a more consistent house
style in lay-out, script and display script, and began to approach
decorative maturity. Thereafter, in the early twelfth century, the
number of talented artists can be seen to multiply. Their output is
more extensive, more varied and more interesting than that of their
predecessors. The famous manuscripts with the most striking
decorated initials, certain of which have often been reproduced, are
all products of this later period.27 The relative chronology of these
manuscripts need not detain us here: it is sufficient in this context
merely to underline the fact that the Christ Church books whose
initials are generally comparable with the designs on the majority of
the decorated capitals in the crypt (nos. 3, 4, 7, 8, 11, 15 and 16) are
largely products of the first three decades of the twelfth century and
not of the last years of the eleventh (see Plate VIII). Most of the
initials, which have recently been cited as the source of the carvings
and illustrated alongside them, certainly or almost certainly postdate
them, in some cases by more than two decades.
the book see K.D. Hartzell, 'An unknown English Benedictine Gradual of the
Eleventh Century', Anglo-Saxon England, 4 (1975), 131-44, and Pl. Illa. The most
recent discussion of the Carilef donation is A.C. Browne, 'Bishop William of
St. Carilef's Book Donations to Durham Cathedral Priory', Scriptorium, xiii (1988),
140-55.
26 Dublin, Trinity College, MS 98: M.L. Colker, Trinity College Library, Dublin:
Descriptive Catalogue of the Medieval and Renaissance Latin Manuscripts, 2 vols.
(London, 1991), I, 195-8.
27 E.g. Cambridge, St. John's College, MS A, 8; Cambridge, Trinity College, MS B.
2. 34; Canterbury Cathedral, MS Lit. E. 42 (probably early in the period); London,
British Library, MSS Cotton Claudius E. V; and Harley 624, to mention the volumes
that are cited and illustrated by Kahn. Crucial for the chronology of these is a sixth
book, British Library, MS Cotton Cleopatra E. I, which is securely dated to 1120-21
34
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
Given the well-known rivalry between Christ Church and
St. Augustine's after the Norman Conquest, and the contrast
between the more Norman tone of the former and the pronounced
Anglo-Saxon identity of the latter, it is of great interest to see what
light artistic evidence may shed on the relationship between the two
houses. Regrettably, only a few fragments of Anglo-Norman sculpture
remain from St. Augustine's, which largely pre-empts comparison
in this respect. Nevertheless, it is notable that the decorative
repertoire of what survives is broadly comparable to that of the crypt
capitals which are our primary interest here, and it is not impossible
that the same workshop was responsible for both programmes. 28
St. Augustine's was rebuilt from c. 1073, the work continuing in
stages until at least the end of the eleventh century; the date of
completion is unknown. Although they may reasonably be associated
with this period, the St. Augustine's fragments are ex situ, their
original location is unknown and they cannot, therefore, be precisely
dated. Consequently, the chronological relationship between the two
sets of work is uncertain. The writer of the recent monograph
believes that the St. Augustine's material is probably later than the
Christ Church crypt capitals. 29
and whose decoration is closely related to that of Claudius E. V and Harley 624 (see
Kauffmann, Romanesque Manuscripts, Cat. 20; A. Watson, Dated and Datable
Manuscripts c. 700-1600 in the Department of Manuscripts, The British Library, 2 vols.
(London, 1979), I, no. 526). Moreover, Harley 624 (fols 84-143) is part of a now
fragmentary passional of which more survives in Cotton Nero C. VII (fols 29-78) and
Harley 315 (fols 1-39), and textual evidence indicates that much of the portion in the
last volume was written after 1123 (see (Ed.) R.W. Southern, The Life of St. Anselm
by Eadmer (London, 1962), xxii-xxiii; also idem, St. Anselm and his Biographer
(Cambridge, 1963), 238, n. 2). For further discussion of other decorated Canterbury
and Rochester books which are datable or assignable to c. 1120 see T.A. Heslop,
"'Dunstanus Archiepiscopus" and Paintings in Kent around 1120', Burlington Magazine,
cxxvi (1984), 195-204.
The Rochester-Christ Church Bible (Baltimore, Walters Art Gallery, MS 18 and
British Library, MS Royal I. C. vii) from which Kahn illustrates two initials (Ills. 65
and 112) is contemporary with these volumes. See further Kauffmann, Romanesque
Manuscripts, Cat. 45, where it is dated c. 1130, and M. P. Richards, Texts and Their
Traditions in the Medieval Library of Rochester Cathedral Priory ( = Trans. of the
American Philosophical Society 78/3; 1988), 78-82, where one volume is dated c. 1125,
the other to an unspecified point slightly earlier.
28 See Kahn, Sculpture, 74-5; Pls. 114 and 116. Here again we are told that 'details
from manuscripts were a stimulus for stone sculpture . . . The design is related to a
detail in the initial T in a Passionate from St. Augustine's, and it confirms the link
between manuscripts and sculpture'. In fact, the volume in question, Harley 624, is
from Christ Church, not St. Augustine's. Furthermore, as it is unlikely to date from
before the third decade of the twelfth century (see n. 27), any influence that might be
posited is likely to run the other way around.
29 Ibid., 75.
35
RICHARD GAMESON
The same commentator has implied that the manuscript art of
St. Augustine's also exerted an influence on the sculpture at Christ
Church. If true, this would provide a most interesting insight into the
question of the cultural connections between the two houses. However,
the claim rests on assumptions rather than on facts, and, once
again, the evidence of the manuscript material suggests a rather
different picture.
The character and chronology of the manuscripts produced at
St. Augustine's Abbey are, fortunately, better known than its sculpture.
At St. Augustine's there was a stronger continuity with the
Anglo-Saxon past, so much so indeed that tumultuous disagreements
erupted between the community and its second Norman abbot,
Wido, in 1088-89, which led to the expulsion of some of the brothers
and their replacement with monks from the cathedral. This continuity
is reflected in the production, script and decoration of many of its
manuscripts until the early twelfth century. Unlike Christ Church,
St. Augustine's did not lose part of its undoubtedly respectable
pre-Conquest library, and so it started the Anglo-Norman phase of its
history with a better than average book collection. Accordingly,
manuscript production seems to have continued more sedately at the
abbey than at the cathedral in the late eleventh century, and a smaller
number of books of a predominantly higher quality were written.
Several of the volumes are extensively ornamented with sets of fine
decorated initials. Some of these letters are conceived in a calligraphic,
multi-coloured pen-work style which has no relation whatsoever
to any carvings. 30 Others are constructed from varying
combinations of foliage, beasts and figures, and these are for the most
part more imaginative, eye-catching and skilfully rendered than
contemporary work of the Christ Church scriptorium, whilst
remaining comparable in respect of their small scale. 31
Although the known implantation of the Christ Church monks in
St. Augustine's at the end of the century might be cited as providing a
possible context for the loan of manuscripts ( or of designs relating to
them) from the abbey to serve as models for the decoration of the
new crypt, it seems an unlikely performance, especially in view of the
fact that feelings were running high between the two communities at
the time (would Christ Church really have wanted to base its
30 E.g. in Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, MS 270, which is datable to between
1091 and 1100 (Lawrence, 'Manuscripts of Early Anglo-Norman Canterbury', Pl.
X1
XIIc; Robinson, Dated and Datable . . . Cambridge, I, no. 148; II, pl. 34).
E.g. Durham Cathedral Library, MS B. II. 16 (datable prc-1096; see Mynors,
Durham Cathedral Manuscripts, no. 35, Pl. 24) and Cambridge, Trinity College, MS
0. 2. 51 (see Kauffmann, Romanesque Manuscripts, Cat. 8).
36
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
sculpture on the ideas of its rival and subordinate?), and there is no
evidence to suggest that it happened. Although a few letters in
St. Augustine's books which are of late eleventh-century date present
general analogies for the decorative language that was used on a few
of the crypt capitals (notably no. 3, the work of the 'transitional
master': see Plate IV), only one such initial has a specific resemblance
to any of the carvings, and the nature of the motif in question, two
interlockin§ curls of spindly foliage, is hardly such as to prove direct
derivation. 2 Conversely, the two manuscripts whose initials provide
several more interesting comparisons for certain of the capitals and
which have recently been illustrated alongside them are of later date:
one is reasonably ascribed to the beginning of the twelfth century, the
other to the second or even third decade of it. 33 The key point to
emphasise here is that, once again, we find that most of the letters
which have been cited as the source for the carving in fact date from
after, not before, its execution. If there were a connection between
these two sets of work (which is by no means proven), the predominant
influence must have run in the other direction. 4
To sum up our findings so far, we may fairly conclude that
relatively few of the various initials that have recently been cited as
the source of inspiration for the Romanesque motifs which were used
on the crypt capitals can conceivably have fulfilled this role. The rest
either simply cannot, or are very unlikely to have done so. Moreover,
the diachronistic development which is clearly perceptible in the
extant books from both houses forestalls the suggestion that the more
spectacular and generally more relevant initials in later manuscripts
show the same sort of decoration that was present in earlier volumes
which have been lost. The thesis, with its sweeping characterisation,
overlooks the variations in the material (both manuscript and sculptural),
distorts the chronological realities of the situation, and relies
32 Trinity 0. 2. 51, fol. 34r: see Kahn, Sculpture, ills 57-8. The initials which provide
general analogies for the vocabulary of cap. 3 are to be found in Cambridge, Corpus
Christi College, MS 267; Canterbury Cathedral, MS Lit. A. 8; and London, British
Library, MS Harley 652, They are probably all the work of one artist.
33 The first is London, British Library, MS Arundel 91 (Kauffmann, Romanesque
Manuscripts, Cat. 17), part of a large, seven-volume Passional. (Only one other
volume survives, Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Fell 2, and its decorated initials have
been excised). The artist responsible reappears in a datable book, the calendar, Cotton
Vitellius C. XII (Ibid., Cat. 18; Watson, Dated and Datable Manuscripts in the British
Library, I, no. 577; II, Pl. 58), which was written during the first decade of the twelfth
century. The second is Royal 5. B. xv, a composite volume of which fols 57-64 are
probably of late eleventh-century date, the remainder (including the one decorated
initial) from the twelfth century.
34 Christ Church influence can be perceived in the script of some St. Augustine's
books from c. 1100 (e.g. Arundel 91, scribe i),
37
RICHARD GAMESON
on unstated, questionable assumptions concerning both inter-house
relations and the relationship between the masons and the cathedral
community. Yet, a just analysis of the connections between all this
material must turn on precisely these issues. The fourth pivotal point
for its interpretation is the necessity of distinguishing carefully and
clearly between a source and an analogue: something which is of
undoubted significance as the latter is misleading when incautiously
treated as the former. The fifth point is the importance of remembering
that a vast amount of potentially relevant material has been lost,
not least amongst which is, of course, most of Lanfranc's cathedral
and its decoration, the immediate context and forerunner of
Anselm's crypt. Although the surviving evidence is sufficient to
reveal the evolution of style and taste, it is hardly a reliable guide to
the full range of material and personalities that were originally
involved in this complex process.
Even given the limitations to which we have just alluded, the
chronology and character of the extant material itself indicate that
the interrelationship between sculpture and manuscript art was more
subtle and variable than has been acknowledged. Had additional
material in other media survived, it might well be apparent that it was
also more indirect. Leaving this issue aside for the moment, the
imperfect picture which the available evidence actually supports of
artistic development at Christ Church after the Norman Conquest
may be summarised as follows.
Anglo-Saxon traditions of draughtsmanship seem to have continued
only briefly at Christ Church after 1066. 35 The modest
decorated initials that sparingly adorn the first generation of postConquest
manuscripts do re-use a few motifs which were familiar
from Anglo-Saxon contexts; nevertheless, they are formulated in
accordance with a new aesthetic. These unimposing letters advertise
the interest of the early Anglo-Norman community in Romanesque
modes of decoration - styles which were being used in similar terms
in other scriptoria in England at this time,36 not to mention in other
media. The carved fragments bearing foliate motifs, back-biting
animals and affronted beasts which were recently discovered in
Canterbury and have been tentatively associated with Lanfranc's
building programme belong to a comparable phase of development. 37
35 In London, British Library, MS Cotton Caligula A. XV (Temple, Anglo-Saxon
Manuscripts, Cat. 106, ills 317-18) which is datable to c. 1073; and Harley 603 (artist G).
36 See, e.g., Kauffmann, Romanesque Manuscripts, Cats. 1, 4, and 13-14.
37 Kahn, Sculpture, 31-3, Ills, 25-9; eadem, 'Recently discovered eleventh-century
reliefs from Canterbury', Gesta, 28 (1989), 53-60. The close parallels with the Bayeux
Tapestry, whose associations are with St. Augustine's, might be taken as a factor
pointing to a connection with that house rather than with the cathedral.
38
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
These early works, which are for the most part relatively tame
essays in the Romanesque aesthetic, provide a partial context in
which to understand the further development and more enthusiastic
deployment of motifs of the same genre that was undertaken by
certain of the sculptors who were responsible for the decoration of
Anselm's crypt at the end of the century. At the same time,
Anglo-Saxon traditions were still practised in this sculpture workshop,
and they evidently continued to be acceptable to the community.
As we noted earlier, the masons were a protean group and
their work includes both revolutionary and reactionary elements.
One capital, it will be recalled, bears Anglo-Saxon foliage motifs (see
Plates I and II); another (possibly by the same hand) has designs
which are related to the initials in the first generation of postConquest
manuscripts (Plate III); a third is transitional in character
(Plate IV); most of the others pioneer more daring and progressive
types of decoration (Plates V-VII).
Shortly thereafter, perhaps partly owing to the influence of the
most skilful and dramatic carvings in the crypt, which revealed the
full potential of the Romanesque style, the more avant-garde motifs
began to be used with greater flair and determination in the scriptorium
as well. Henceforth, in the early decades of the twelfth
century, sculptors ( now employed on the arcades of the eastern
transept)38 and illuminators seem to have been working at a similar
stage of development.
THE INTERPRETATION OF THE CRYPT CAPITALS
Several issues concerning this material and its interpretation merit
further comment. These are: the necessity for extreme caution before
classifying objects which have related decoration in terms of source
and derivative; the status of the Gabriel Chapel Master; the background
to the development of Romanesque ornament at Christ
Church in the late eleventh century; the relationship between the
masons and the cathedral community; and the role of the carved
capitals in the original scheme of the crypt as a whole.
We can usefully start by considering the way in which the relationship
between formally related ornament, whether or not in
different media, may be approached and interpreted. If, as is often
38 Discussed and illustrated in Kahn, Sculpture, 79-87. Also assigned to this phase is
the isolated capital that was found at Chartham and is now in the Canterbury Heritage
Museum (Ibid., ill. 277; see further Zarnecki, 'Romanesque Capital from
Canterbury').
39
RICHARD GAMESON
the case, the modern student is primarily concerned with discovering
the 'origin' and reconstructing the steps in the transmission of a
design, it is crucially important to assess carefully the degree of
'kinship' that the formal similarity implies (the issue of 'source or
analogue') whilst being sensitive to the potential importance of
material that has vanished. Confusion or incautious judgement over
these points can result in misleading conclusions. Only if the visual
parallels are overwhelming and the chronology is sufficiently clear,
can the material confidently be interpreted in terms of source and
influence. In the case which concerns us here, the evidence suggests,
as we have seen, that most of the late eleventh-century Christ Church
initials (and all of the contemporary St. Augustine's ones) are
analogues, not sources for the capitals (and for just a few of them at
that); while, conversely, the avant-garde capitals may have been an
important source of inspiration for the creators of some of the early
twelfth-century initials.
The origins of Romanesque ornament at Canterbury were examined
in detail some years ago in relation to the manuscript
material alone, and a wide range of sources of inspiration, proximate
and ultimate, were adduced. 39 Some of the motifs that came
to be used in decorated initials were shown originally to have been
part of illustrations in Classical and Carolingian books, while others
were traced to Anglo-Saxon art, Antique sculpture or imported
textiles, and so on. The relationship between the crypt capitals and
the initials, which we have tried to clarify, throws two sidelights on
this field. In the first place, it suggests that contemporary sculpture
should perhaps be included among the immediate sources of inspiration
for some of the twelfth-century initials. If, as is probable, the
Canterbury masons were laymen, the scribes and illuminators
mainly ecclesiastics,40 it would thereby simultaneously allude to the
influence of secular artists on their monastic counterparts. Such
interaction was, doubtless, not uncommon, but owing to the dearth
of opportunity for comparing significant bodies of manuscript illumination
and sculpture from the same centre in the late eleventh
century and early twelfth, it is difficult to study it in England at this
time. Secondly, it shows that the most progressive sculptor who
39 Dodwell, Canterbury School, Ch. VI.
40 We know from documentary sources that scribes were hired at St. Albans and
Abingdon (see R.M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, 2 vols
(Woodbridge, 1982), I, 13), but there is nothing to indicate that this happened at
Christ Church in the late eleventh century and the evidence of the surviving books
suggests that it did not. Whether the situation changed there in the twelfth century with
regard to illuminators at least is a moot point.
40
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
worked in the crypt, the Gabriel Chapel Master, cannot simply
have adopted his repertoire wholesale from contemporary manuscript
art as has been implied; his inspiration must have come from
elsewhere. His hybrids, cavorting men and animal musicians, representing
the height of current European fashion, seem to have been
relatively novel at Christ Church c. 1100. He thus appears to hold
an important place in the development of Romanesque ornament at
this centre, and to him, it seems, should be credited the creation of
the earliest extant fully-developed sculptural fantasy repertoire in
England. He is, we suggest, a more innovative character than has
previously been allowed, and his work would undoubtedly repay
further study.
If the work of the Gabriel Chapel Master seems more innovative
now that it has been emancipated from slavish dependence upon
subsequent manuscript art, it is by no means inexplicable, especially
once its artistic contexts, both known and potential, are recognised.
The vocabulary of ornament that is regarded as quintessetially
Romanesque appears at Canterbury, as in southern England as a
whole, at the end of a century during which many of the basic motifs
involved ( dragons, birds, beasts and foliage) had been in frequent
use, albeit less prominently. 41 This repertoire had been deployed not
only in manuscripts, but also in ivories and stone sculpture, as no
doubt in the now-unrepresented media of wood carving,42 textiles,
precious metalwork, wall-painting and possibly also stucco. Moreover,
given Canterbury's cosmopolitan nature, especially after the
Conquest, and the Norman penchant for importing materials and
personnel, germane material from further afield is also potentially
relevant. After all, as has been noted, we know nothing about the
origin and previous career of the sculptor in question, and his oeuvre
could reflect a foreign training or the influence of work seen abroad.
Various Norman building programmes of eleventh-century date
include architectural sculpture which adumbrates aspects of his basic
approach and decorative repertoire. One thinks, for instance, of
some of the decorated capitals produced at Bernay in the second
quarter of the eleventh century, at Jumieges in the mid eleventh
41 Dragons, beasts and foliage had been the main ingredients of decorated initial
design for much of the late Anglo-Saxon period, enjoying a renaissance in deluxe
books in the mid eleventh century: see F. Wormald, 'Decorated initials in English
Manuscripts A.O. 900-1100', Archaeologia, xci (1945), 107-36.
42 The considerable corpus of Romanesque wood carving that survives in Norway
(see M. Blindheim, Norwegian Romanesque Decorative Sculpture 1090-1210 (London,
1965)) provides a vivid testimony to the quality of work that was possible in this
medium.
41
RICHARD GAMESON
century, at Bayeux in the third uarter of the century, and at
Cerisy-la-Foret in the last quarter.4
Detailed exploration of the various possibilities falls outside the
scope of the present paper: the point we wish to make here is more
general and fundamental, and concerns the nature rather than the
location of the Gabriel Chapel Master's putative sources. If, for the
sake of argument, we examine English ivory carvings alone, of which
only a small sample survives, we find that dragon-head terminals and
foliage with beasts in its tendrils appear on a tau cross in the British
Museum, an openwork plaque in the Musee de Cluny, a reliquary
cross in the Victoria and Albert Museum, and a pen case which is also
in the British Museum - all items which have recently been dated to
the early to mid eleventh century. 44 The same motifs are used in
unequivocally Romanesque modes in other English ivories which are
reasonably assigned to the late eleventh century. 45 Collectively the
body of extant work attests to a tradition of such ornament in various
media evolving throughout the century, and there is no reason to
assume that developments in sculpture would lag behind those in
manuscript art. Now irrespective of the relative chronology of the
manuscripts and the sculpture, it is difficult to imagine that a mason
would inevitably have relied on designs from books, when he could
far more easily, and would as a matter of course, find inspiration in
numerous other artefacts which were around him. The heraldic lion
that was carved on two faces of capital 11 in the crypt may well look
like the depiction of Leo in the calendar of a late Anglo-Saxon
psalter,46 but is it not far more likely actually to descend from the
43 On which see now M. Bayle, Les Origines et les Premiers Developpements de la
Sculpture Romane en Normandie, 58-80, 118-124, and 138-40; with Ills. 141-2, 161,
163, 167-8, 190-3, 195-206, 254-6, and 424-8. Looking further afield, one may point,
for instance, to the eleventh-century capitals of the tower porch of Saint Benoit-surLoire
(Hearn, Romanesque Sculpture, Ills. 25-6), a centre with which English
churchmen had had frequent contacts in the late Anglo-Saxon period.
44 (Eds.) D.H. Turner, L. Webster andJ. Backhouse, The Golden Age of Anglo-Saxon
Art (British Museum exhibition catalogue, 1984), Cats. 121, 131, 125 and 132
respectively. The proto-Romanesque character of the last of these items is underlined by
the fact that it was claimed as late eleventh century in (Ed.) G. Zarnecki et al., English
Romanesque Art 1066-1200 (Hayward Gallery exhibition catalogue, 1984), Cat. 185.
45 E.g. the 'John of Beverley' crosier, a comb, a tau cross, and a panel: (Ed.)
Zarnecki et al., English Romanesque Art, Cats. 183-4, 188-9. Such works, it should be
remembered, are generally dated by their parallels with manuscript art.
46 See Kahn, Sculpture, Ills. 81-3. The manuscript in question is Arundel 60.
Contrary to her statements on 59-60, this is not a St. Augustine's book: it is from
Winchester; nor has the lion 'lost all association with the zodiacal symbol Leo'
appearing 'as mere decoration': it is lea in the cycle of the signs of the zodiac which
accompanies the calendar of the manuscript. The volume is described in Kauffman,
Romanesque Manuscripts, Cat. 1.
42
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
similar beasts depicted in originally more accessible (not to mention
more striking) large-scale works, such as textiles like the Bayeux
Tapestry and the sculptural fragments that have been tentatively
associated with Lanfranc's cathedral and reasonably dated to
c. 1080?47 The basic point is, we hope, clear. In essence it is the
source and analogue issue once again. Manuscripts and especially
local ones are now by far the most plentiful and prominent part of the
artistic context of these capitals, but this is purely the accident of
survival. Originally for a mason they were probably one of the least
conspicuous elements, and other relevant sources of inspiration were
readily available. 48 Furthermore, if he were not of local origin or had
travelled during his career, the number and range of such nonmanuscript
sources increase dramatically. These circumstances
clearly deserve to be considered more carefully.
This leads on to the next point: the nature of the relationship
between the community of Christ Church and the sculptors. The
claim that the work of the masons was derived from local manuscript
art made and relied on certain unstated assumptions about this
matter. First, it assumed that someone showed or transmitted the
highlights of the scriptorium and the library to them; secondly, by
implication, that the community wished to regulate the work of the
masons down to the smallest decorative motif; and hence, thirdly,
that the community specifically selected these particular designs for
this purpose. It would be most interesting if this were all true;
however, since the evidence does not support the underlying contention,
correspondingly it provides no grounds for making these
47 See n. 37 above. The popularity and wide distribution of such motifs in sculpture
in England around this time is clearly suggested by the surviving evidence. Similar
beasts appear above the imposts of the tower arch in St. Benet's, Cambridge, a
structure of late Anglo-Saxon workmanship (R. C. H. M. City of Cambridge, 2 vols.
(London, 1959), II, Pl. 281); they decorate the capitals of the south transept of Ely
Cathedral (see G. Zarnecki, The Early Sculpture of Ely Cathedral (London, 1958), Ill.
3) and the tympanum of the south doorway at Milborne Port, Somerset (idem, '1066
and Architectural Sculpture', Proc. British Academy, LII (1966), 89-104, Pl. xviiia),
both assigned to c. 1090; and they reappear at a slightly later date on, for instance, a
capital at Steyning, Sussex (ibid., Pl. xxiia), and a tympanum from Thetford in Norfolk
(see R.B. Lockett, 'A Catalogue of Romanesque Sculpture from the Cluniac Houses
in England', J.B.A.A., 3rd ser. xxxiv (1971), 43-61, pl. XIV(l)).
48 The amount of non-manuscript art work that has been lost from Anglo-Saxon
England, including monumental effigies, is stressed and discussed by C.R. Dodwell,
Anglo-Saxon Art: a New Perspective (Manchester, 1982). The potential relevance of
geographically distant sources is underlined by the important role that the sculpture of
the pilgrimage road seems to have played in the development of the 'Herefordshire
school' of sculpture in the second quarter of the twelfth century: see G. Zarnecki,
Later English Romanesque Sculpture 1140- 1210 (London, 1953), 9-15.
43
RICHARD GAMESON
assumptions. The nature of the relationship between the masons and
their patrons and, in particular, the extent to which their decorative
designs were regulated are considerably less clear.
Although we know that some of the actual designers and architects
( as opposed to the patrons) of eleventh-century ecclesiastical
buildings were churchmen (the monks, Gunzo, formerly Abbot of
Baume, and Hezelon, previously a canon of Liege, who were
responsible for Cluny III are an outstanding example),49 it is
uncertain how often this was true; and whatever the answer, the
masons themselves are likely to have been secular workmen as we
have noted. In the absence of written information, the work of the
latter can only be assessed in terms of the visual evidence it presents.
Now the theological sophistication of the great carved portals of
French Romanesque abbeys, not to mention their general conspicuousness
and importance, leaves little doubt that churchmen
planned their iconography and oversaw their design;50 but whether
the same applies to decorative capitals in places of lesser prominence
is a different question. It is likely that the final decision to include
elaborate, as opposed to plain, capitals was made, or at least ratified,
by the community in question or its representatives, not least simply
because extra cost was presumably involved;51 but can we go much
beyond this? Many questions about taste, fashion and the influence of
patrons on style during this period either cannot be answered or
cannot be answered satisfactorilI owing to lack of evidence, and it is
wise to recognise that this is so. 2 In this case, however, we have the
advantage of a small range of relevant, albeit not unambiguous, data.
49 K.J. Conant, Carolingian and Romanesque Architecture 800-1200, 3rd ed.
(Harmondsworth, 1973), 116.
50 See, for instance, A. Katzenellenbogen, 'The Central Tympanum at Vezelay', Art
Bulletin, xxvi (1944), 141-51 (attributing that programme to Peter the Venerable); P.
Kidson and U. Parisier, Sculpture at Chartres (London, 1958), 22-3, where it is
tentatively suggested that Thierry of Chartres might have been the author of the
Portail Royal; and C. Rudolph, Artistic Change at Saint Denis (Princeton, 1990), eh. 5,
arguing that Hugh of St Victor influenced Suger's programme of portal sculpture.
51 The expense of elaborately carved capitals is the culminating point of
St. Bernard's famous diatribe against them in his Apologia ad Guillelmum Abbatem, s.
29 (a critical edition of the text, with translation, is conveniently printed in Rudolph,
Things of Greater Importance, Appendix 2).
52 For discussions of material from this period that address these issues see, inter
alia, R. Stalley, 'A Twelfth-Century Patron of Architecture: A Study of the Buildings
erected by Roger Bishop of Salisbury', J.B.A.A. 3rd ser., xxxiv (1971), 62-83;
B. Abou-El-Haj, 'Bury St. Edmunds Abbey between 1070 and 1124: a History of
Property, Privilege and Monastic Art Production', Art History, 6 (1983), 1-29; and
several of the essays in (Eds.) S. Macready and F.H. Thompson, Art and Patronage in
the English Romanesque (London, 1986).
44
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
One interpretation that would fit the few known facts is that the
original impetus for decorated capitals came from the architect; the
community, who already used comparable motifs in their books and
were well aware that they were fashionable, were favourably predisposed
towards Romanesque ornament and positively encouraged the
scheme; but the final designs were largely the product of the
individual masons responsible. The first part of this hypothesis rests
on the circumstance that the carved capitals were designed to play a
part in a grander architectural scheme of decoration (a point
discussed below); the second on the artwork of the monks themselves,
for had the community not appreciated such decoration, it
would hardly have essayed the style in eleventh-century manuscripts,
let alone developed it in twelfth-century ones; the third on the
striking differences in the artistic treatment of the capitals both from
one sculptor to another and from one capital to another, which surely
attests to the autonomy of the individual masons.
Our last general point concerns the place of these carvings in their
architectural context as a whole. Having argued that most of these
fascinating capitals, and especially those of the Gabriel Chapel
Master, are more original than has previously been allowed, it is
worth stressing, paradoxically, that it is easy to over-emphasise their
importance in relation to their immediate setting. Fantastic
decoration of this sort is endemic in Romanesque art, but it is
generally confined to areas of secondary importance within a given
structure. Rarely does it appear to be so prominent as in Anselm's
crypt. Another recent commentator has stressed the abnormality of
this occurrence and drawn tentative conclusions from the 'fact'. 53
However, this is arguably an erroneous perception.
In the first place, it must be remembered that the number of
relevant capitals amounts to a relatively small proportion of the
whole: almost all the capitals in the aisles and half of those in the
main body of the crypt are plain. 54 Next, there is the fact that such a
decorative programme is not without precedent, even in eleventhcentury
England. The earliest complete scheme of Anglo-Norman
architectural sculpture still in situ is that in the chapel of Durham
Hearn, Romanesque Sculpture, 52-4, argues eloquently that the patron was indeed
'the dominant force' in the design of Romanesque capitals; however, as his premises
are partly supposition (and particularly suspect in the case of Canterbury), the
conclusion is uncertain. For a sobering assessment of the likely input of the patron to
Gothic architecture, see C. Wilson, The Gothic Cathedral (London, 1990), 10-11.
53 Tudor-Craig, 'St Bernard and the Canterbury Capitals'.
54 As may be readily appreciated from the two general views: Kahn, Sculpture, Ills.
31-2. The plain capitals may well have been painted.
45
RICHARD GAMESON
Castle of c. 1072.55 The capitals of the six columns that support the
vault of the chapel are all carved with simple but bold motifs, and
only one of them is religious, while all the rest are decorative -
beasts, caryatids, masks and so on. The principal difference in
modern appreciation of the Durham chapel carvings and those in
Canterbury Cathedral crypt arises from the fact that the vault of the
former is relatively high, the carvings in question are simple and the
chamber as a whole is dark: consequently, they intrude upon the
beholder less forcibly than the virtuoso carvings just above head
height, softly but distinctly lit, at Canterbury. Nonetheless, the
precedent remains. Incidentally, narrative or 'historiated' capitals (as
opposed to fantastic or decorative ones) were never favoured in
England to the same extent as in France, and even there it is rare to
find a set of sculpted capitals entirely devoted to narrative before the
twelfth century.
Then, there is the more important point that, striking though the
motifs they bear are, the carved capitals at Canterbury are in fact but
a minor element in the visual articulation of the crypt as a whole.
They are subsumed within a more expansive architectural scheme of
decoration. This centres on the design of the columns themselves, the
shafts of which are alternately plain, or incised with spiralling
patterns.56 The spiral motifs become more pronounced with proximity
to the altar; and the overall effect must have been very striking
when the patterns were accentuated with paint. 57 The scheme is
further developed by a contrast of column and capital: the spiral
columns have plain capitals; the plain ones have the carved capitals.
The individual carved details are thus entirely subordinate to this
grander and more prominent scheme, which is itself subsidiary to the
predominant articulation of the space through the interaction of
vault, bay, column and void.58 Furthermore, the capitals were
similarly subsidiary to the painted decoration that was destined to
cover the vaults and walls. The point can still be readily appreciated
in the Gabriel Chapel where a sinificant portion of the twelfthcentury
mural decoration survives. 9 The extant paintings are exclu-
55 Zarnecki, English Romanesque Sculpture 1066--J 140, 12-13, and 25-6; with Pls. I,
and 3-9.
56 E. Fernie, 'St. Anselm's Crypt', Medieval Art and Architecture at Canterbury,
27-38; and Kahn, Sculpture, 77-9.
57 Paint remains on the spirals of column 3 (Gabriel Chapel).
58 The fact that a few capitals were incorporated unfinished and were allowed to
remain so underlines the point.
59 E.W. Tristram, English Medieval Wall Painting 1: The Twelfth Century (Oxford,
1944), 15-21 and 101-5; Pls. 1-19 and supplementary Pls. 2-3; 0. Demus, Romanesque
Mural Painting (London, 1970), 509, Ills. 234-7.
46
THE ROMANESQUE CRYPT CAPITALS
sively religious in subject-matter (the best preserved elements,
dominating the apse, include the naming of John the Baptist on the
wall and the Lord in Majesty on the vault), they are of a larger scale,
and of course cover a far greater area than the capitals. The carved
capitals were a frame and foil to the architectural and painted
schemes that defined and dominated the space: a point which is
emphasised by the absence of any discernible programme in the
sculptural decoration. They were minor decorative elements which
contributed to the overall visual opulence of this sacred chamber and
should be interpreted as such. 60
To conclude: our principal aim has been to set forth as clearly and
succinctly as possible the true chronological relationship between the
carvings in St. Anselm's crypt and the decorated initials of Canterbury's
early Romanesque books. We have also attempted to draw
attention to some of the problems and issues that pertain thereto.
The nature of the relationship between formally akin decoration in
different media is a fascinating issue, but, close attention to the
dating of all the material involved is, without a doubt, the primary
precondition of approaching it; the second is surely to maintain a
clear distinction between sources and analogues, whilst remembering
the imbalance of the surviving evidence. More generally, the case we
have considered provides a cautionary tale of the dangers of unwarranted
assumptions on the one hand, and of over-simplification on
the other. The reality of the situation at early Anglo-Norman Christ
Church has emerged as more complicated and fluid than recent
discussions allow, and this was surely to be expected. There was an
interdependence between the media, not a simple one-way traffic
between two of them. Moreover, as the process almost certainly
involved arts which are now poorly represented or not represented in
the surviving material, it is to some extent irredeemably obscure, and
this should be recognised, not simply ignored. In view of the
restrictions of the evidence, it is doubtful whether all of the contingent
problems can be satisfactorily resolved; and to those that can,
we have here attempted no more than to sketch approaches which
further work must test. However, as answers which are based on
erroneous premises can hardly be considered answers, merely to set
out the basic facts of the matter (in so far as the available evidence
and work to date will allow) represents a positive step forward. It
6° For a verbal reconstruction of the original state and its effect see Woodman,
Architectural History of Canterbury Cathedral, 52. The point may readily be appreciated
by considering the overall impression of comparable structures that better
preserve their covering of medieval paint, for instance the Mausoleum in S. Isidoro,
Leon (G. Zarnecki, Romanesque (London, 1971), 111. 172).
47
RICHARD GAMESON
will, we hope, encourage others to re-address certain basic questions
pertaining to this material.
At the heart of the matter is the fact that the masons responsible
for carving the crypt capitals were individuals whose sources and
achievements differ. Only the most conservative can credibly be
thought to have been influenced by eleventh-century manuscripts,
while the most progressive appears to have been a relatively innovative
figure in English Romanesque art. His work, its sources and its
significance have yet to be fairly assessed.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The author is very grateful to the British Academy for the award of a
research fellowship during the tenure of which this work was written;
and to the Conway Library, Courtauld Institute of Art, for permission
to reproduce the photographs.
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