Friday, 24 September 2021

A saint and a scandal

 

Photograph showing part of a doorway arch carved in pale golden stone, and a metal sign with the words 'Saint Bartholomew House' which extends at right angles from the facade

Between two shopfronts on Fleet Street is the entrance to Saint Bartholomew House, an office building. It has some rather fine details: not only a metal sign extending over the pavement, but a carved entrance including the building name and cipher, two putti, and a frieze of foliage. It is no wonder that the architect and sculptor were proud enough to include their own names.

Photograph showing the carved doorway arch from a different angle. To either side, carved putti are visible.

The sculptor was Gilbert Seale - full name John Hugh Gilbert Seale. Born in South London, he was the son of an architectural sculptor and followed in his father John Wesley Seale's footsteps - and his own son would continue the business in turn. He  worked on the nearby Old Bailey as well as buildings ranging from churches to department stores.

Photograph showing a carved detail: the name 'Gilbert Seale, Sculptor'

On the other side of the arch, the year it was built - 1900 - is given below the name of its architect H Huntly Gordon. Herbert Huntly Gordon was a speculative builder as well as an architect - but eight years after completing this building, also became a subject of scandal. He and his wife each sought to divorce the other - he accused her of adultery with a naval officer, while she accused him of the same with a governess - but the court found the allegations to be unfounded and the couple had to stay unhappily married. They (unsurprisingly) lived apart, and their elder daughter stayed with Huntly Gordon while the younger lived with his estranged wife.


Photograph showing a carved detail: the name 'H Huntley Gordon, Architect'

Three years later, the couple returned to court as Mrs Huntly Gordon petitioned for restitution of conjugal rights (ie to return to the marital home). The prospect apparently appealed neither to her husband nor to her elder daughter, now eighteen, who wrote to her mother than before the separation, her parents had 'quarrelled and disagreed over every small thing': they were 'better apart'. The judge sent the couple and their lawyers to discuss the matter in private, and a deed of separation was drawn up instead.

Photograph of one of the carved putti, with butterfly-like wings and flowers in its hair

However, that was all in the future when the architect designed the stylish and playful Saint Bartholomew House. Let's finish by noting the unusual putto on the right of the doorway: as Chris Partridge of Ornamental Passions points out, this charcater appears to have butteryfly-style wings and flowers in their hair.


Wednesday, 1 September 2021

Durham Cathedral: seeking sanctuary

 

Photograph of the Durham Cathedral sanctuary knocker: a metal face, demonic in appearance, with a ring in its mouth, on a heavy wooden door.

The rather demonic-looking monster might seem an unlikely face to find on the door of Durham Cathedral. The metal knocker was designed to deter evil from the Cathedral, maintaining it as a place of sanctuary. 

In fact, the name of this sanctuary knocker refers to the very specific concept of sanctuary in the middle ages. A person who had committed an offence could seek sanctuary in the church for a relatively short period - weeks rather than months - during which they could choose either trial or exile. In other words, it was a time to get their affairs in order and decide on their future rather than an indefinite escape from the consequences of their actions. Only in the fifteenth century would Durham Cathedral be able to offer permanent sanctuary to debtors and wrongdoers - a privilege limited to certain important churches who held a royal charter. However, it was a sort of imprisonment: the sanctuary-seeker was only immune from arrest while within the cathedral precincts, and had to have the means to support themselves there since they were unlikely to find work.

The knocker now on the door is a replica of the twelfth-century original - still in the cathedral, but now kept in its museum rather than exposed to the elements.