Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [313]
And without more ado he spread several large plans on parchment on the table before them.
“It’s the chapter house,” he began.
The chapter house, one of the greatest glories of the cathedral, was closely modelled upon the chapter at Henry III’s new church of Westminster Abbey. It was magnificent. Like Westminster, it consisted of a single high chamber with eight sides. It was fifty-six feet across and at its centre a single slender pillar rose elegantly some thirty feet before it spread out like a palm tree or a flower to form the ribs of the simple vaulting. In character with the rest of the cathedral, it was a pure, almost understated building. Years ago when Osmund had first inspected the design, it was the plans for each wall that amazed him.
“Why, they are all window!” he cried.
He was right. Each window, divided into four lights and supporting in its arch a tracery pattern in the form of a simple rose, took up the entire face of each wall from the height of about ten feet to the vaulting. The only masonry in the upper wall was therefore the solid cluster of pillars at each of the eight corners. Now it was nearing completion.
“It will be,” Osmund searched for a description, “just a container for light: an eight-sided barrel of light.”
Robert smiled.
“It will. That’s it exactly. But it’s the entrance and the lower part of the wall I want you to look at now.”
From the cloisters one entered a broad, almost square vestibule, and from there a handsome arch led directly into the octagon itself. Around the lower wall of the octagon was a running stone seat and behind it an arcade of little arches, five to each wall, each arch marking the place at which one of the church dignitaries would sit.
“Now there, in the big arch at the entrance, and there,” Robert indicated the lower walls of the octagon, “we have important plans.” And while the three men bent attentively over the plans he went through every detail.
The design that the dean and chapter had approved was elaborate. Within the broad arch at the entrance there were to be seven niches on each side, set and angled one on top of the other along the curved line of the arch and meeting at its point. In each of these narrow niches was to be a pair of almost free standing statues – a woman in free-flowing robes, who would represent one of the fourteen virtues, and at her feet, sinking submissively, the corresponding vice. Thus Justice would subdue Injustice, Patience Anger, Humility banish Pride. It was a fine conception, and a daunting technical challenge.
But it was the design for the inside of the chapter house that captured Osmund’s imagination still more.
For above the stone seats, in the spandrels between the little arches there were to be a series of delicate reliefs depicting biblical scenes, from the creation of the world to the delivery of the Ten Commandments.
“There are to be sixty scenes,” Robert told them. “They’re broken down into groups as follows: The Creation, the expulsion from Eden, Cain and Abel, Noah, Tower of Babel, Abraham, Sodom and Gomorrah, the Sacrifice of Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses.” He looked at the three men. “I want you to submit designs. Divide the work up as you like. Then we can discuss the matter again.”
As they left, Osmund said a silent prayer, and it was answered soon afterwards when both his companions told him that they were more interested in the fully sculptured figures in the arch than the low reliefs in the chapter house. Reliefs, it seemed to them, were work for lesser hands. Osmund bowed submissively.
“Then I will design the reliefs,” he said with a serious face, but a heart full of joy.
And he was still more excited when, at his discussion with Robert a few days later, the chief mason gave him further guidance.
“The effect that the dean and the chapter want is something like this,” he explained. And he produced two beautifully illustrated manuscripts, one a psalter, the other a romance, which contained flowing and expressive drawings neatly set into the irregular