The Gothic Revival began in literature as a taste for melancholy and the grotesque. Horror novels like Frankenstein celebrated the gloomy atmosphere of medieval ruins. Aristocrats began to take an interest in this fashion for Gothic and started to build fake ruins in their gardens.
Fig. 1
This is a Gothic banqueting house at Gibside [Fig. 1]. It shows no understanding of the grammar of Gothic architecture; it was just a whimsical building for entertaining guests. It's like a stage set that summons up an atmosphere of medieval mysticism. The Temple of Liberty at Stowe, a country house in Buckinghamshire was designed by James Gibbs in 1741 [Fig. 2]. Again, it has nothing in common with a real medieval building except that Gothic details have been assembled on the surface.
Fig. 2 Temple of Liberty, Stowe
Eccentric aristocrats began to build Gothic mansions. Horace Walpole, the son of the first prime minister, built himself a house called Strawberry Hill in Twickenham (1749) [Fig. 3]. He had no real understanding of genuine medieval Gothic, but he admired it as a style so he produced decoration like fan vaults. Vaults are supposed to support the roof, but here they were purely decorative.They're actually made of papier maché.
Fig. 3 Strawberry Hill, Twickenham
The most notorious example was Fonthill Abbey[Fig. 4]. It wasn't an abbey, it was a country house built by William Beckford, an eccentric millionaire who owned sugar plantations in the West Indies. He was said to be the richest man in England. He built a huge, grandiose country house that had a giant octagonal tower with four wings radiating out from it. The tower was as high as a cathedral, but Beckford would sit under the base and use it as a dining room. He was tremendously impatient so he paid for the house to be built during the night. But it seems the foundations hadn't been laid properly because it collapsed spectacularly one night in 1825, although Beckford had sold it before that. He only said he wished he'd been there to see it happen.
Fig. 4 Fonthill Abbey
The Gothic Revival began as a whimsical style that celebrated a romantic notion of the Middle Ages, but had no real understanding of medieval buildings. That was all changed by an architect called Augustus Pugin. He had studied Gothic from an early age and had a greater knowledge of it than perhaps anyone in the world. He converted to Catholicism at the age of 22 and became almost a religious fanatic. He had a nostalgic admiration for the Middle Ages, which he called the "Age of Faith". He was convinced that Gothic was the only style fit for a Christian country.
Pugin published furious manifestos. The first had the fabulous title Contrasts, or a parallel between the noble edifices of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries and similar buildings of the present day; shewing the present decay of taste (1836). He set out the book as a series of contrasting images [Fig. 5]. Each page shows a scene from the Middle Ages and one from the present. The implication is that architecture has deteriorated and so has society. In fact, all the images are imaginary; the book is a piece of propaganda.
Fig. 5 Pugin's Contrasts
The first image depicts a medieval town, idyllic and picturesque. The second image shows the same town in the 19th century. Church spires are decaying or they've been replaced with factory chimneys. The Gothic church in the foreground has been replaced with a Classical one. Pugin felt it was blasphemous for a church to be built in a pre-Chrisitian, i.e. "pagan" style. The mediaeval bridge has been replaced with a cast iron one. The town wall has been replaced with blank warehouse façades. In the foreground there's a prison and a lunatic asylum, which implies that the loss of faith has resulted in crime and insanity. Religious conflict is suggested by the presence of Baptist, Unitarian and Wesleyan chapels - instead of the one true Catholic faith. There are some very clever details too: the bridge now has a toll bar. This is an image of a society dedicated to commerce and industry. It illustrates the idea that Christian virtues are disappearing.
Pugin was devoted to reviving the Gothic architecture of the Middle Ages and mediaeval society. That was a great leap for the Gothic Revival. It was no longer just a decorative affectation; it was a spiritual and political crusade.
A huge programme of church-building began. The Gothic Revival spread around the country in the form of new parish churches. Virtually every Gothic Revival church you've ever seen is an example. It changed the face of Britain. On some level there was a fear of the new industrial working classes. The upper classes wanted to promote religion to help pacify them. So the Gothic Revival was also a reaction against the Industrial Revolution. It was a retreat into medieval values, as well as medieval style.
Pugin's masterpiece was St Giles Church at Cheadle in Staffordshire [Fig. 6]. Inside, every surface is saturated with ornament: sculpture, patterning and gilding. It exemplifies the Victorian obsession with decoration, but translates it into an overpowering vision of the Middle Ages. It's a sacrificial offering to God.
Fig. 6 St. Giles's Church, Cheadle
A turning point for the Gothic Revival was 1834 when the old Houses of Parliament were destroyed by fire. It was decided that the replacement should be in the Gothic style, because by then Gothic was felt to be an indigenous, uniquely British style.
Charles Barry won the competition to design the new building, but he hired Pugin to produce the Gothic detailing [Fig. 7]. Pugin saw this as a chance to prove that Gothic was suitable for a great national monument - not just churches - and he poured all his energies and fanatical enthusiasm into the building. He designed everything from the furniture and floor tiles up to the façade. He even designed the gate motif which is still used on coins today.
Fig. 7 New Palace of Westminster
Following the Houses of Parliament, Gothic was used for major public buildings. This is Manchester Town Hall by Alfred Waterhouse [Fig. 8]. This uses the Gothic style to express Manchester's civic identity. It's angular and uncompromising. Inside, everything is as rich and elaborate as possible.
Fig. 8 Manchester Town Hall
