Each story is beautiful in itself, but there is no intimate connection between them. They are superimposed but not connected. Even in

round-arched Norman work, where no air of consistent aspiration is expected, the effect is best when certain members rise in unbroken lines from floor to roof, uniting all parts of the design. But here, where they are far more essential, there are no such members. Each range of openings is designed in independence of the others, and the sharply pointed forms do not agree in expression with the strong horizontal demarcations thus produced- the eye is bidden continually to change from vertical to level lines, and neither an idea of rest nor an idea of aspiration is made clear. The roof, moreover, begins its curve so low down upon the walls as to have an almost crushing effect; seen in their long sequence, the features which individually are so charming look somewhat thin and "wire-drawn"; and the entire lack of sculptured decoration seems here a fault, though it seemed no fault outside. Early-English builders could decorate most lavishly when they chose, and one type of capital which they used is extremely rich and lovely. But another type consisted simply of a succession of plain moldings, and it is this alone that we find at Salisbury. Of course the effect must have been very different when the church was first constructed. Then all the untraceried windows, which now look so poor and throw so cold a glare, were filled with gorgeous low-toned glass, and the stonework throughout was brought into harmony by paint. But as we see it to-day, an architectural scheme reduced to its intrinsic terms, the nave of Salisbury leaves us a little indifferent. The choir is more attractive, for its

furnishings enrich the general effect and the design of its east end is extremely fine. Three tall arches, the outer ones of very slender shape, are surmounted by a group of five lancet windows and again by another group of five. This is the end wall of the choir proper, and the upper ranges of windows look out over lower roofs and are filled with glass. But through the great arches beneath them we look under these low roofs into the retrochoir and Lady - Chapel, where slender, isolated shafts make exquisite perspectives, changing in effect with every changing step. These outlying chapels, seen thus as through a triple frame, are the English substitute for the circling apses of the Continent. The prize for picturesqueness, poetry, and mystery must be given to France, but England's device is as charming in a simpler, clearer way; and, I may say once more, there is less need for comparisons in a case like this than for gratitude that different lands show different ideals in perfect execution and not merely variants of the same kind of success.

The monuments which filled the choir and nave of Salisbury were sadly knocked about and mutilated and shifted in Protestant years, and when the "restorer " Wyatt took them in hand a century ago he re-arranged many of them after a scheme of his own. The columns of the nave are united by a low continuous plinth, prescribed, perhaps, for the better distribution of their weight, by the treacherous nature of the soil. Upon this plinth, between the pillars, Wyatt arranged a sequence of monuments. Of course their historic interest is destroyed, yet the effect, superficially speaking, is not bad, and if Wyatt had done nothing worse than this we might perhaps forgive him. How can we forgive him for shattering the ancient windows and throwing their glass "by cart-loads into a ditch"? Some remaining fragments have been patched together in two or three of the windows, but we must go to the cathedral of York to see what we might have seen at Salisbury had it not been for reformers and restorers. A multitude of tombs still remain in the choir and Lady-Chapel old and modern, large and small, simple and elaborate. Among them is one which is supposed to commemorate Bishop Roger and to

have been brought from Old Sarum, and another in which lies a woman whom a poet's lines, more imperishable than brass or stone, have made forever famous-"Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother."

The great old choir-screen, as in so many other English churches, has been removed, and the eye now passes without hindrance from one end of the mighty perspective to the other. Or, more exactly, it would thus pass but for the huge braces that were built in the fifteenth century between the piers which support the tower. Each is formed by a strong, low arch surmounted by a straight, beam-like piece of wall. The huge original openings are thus divided, so to say, into two open stories, and the Perpendicular decoration on the lower story strikes the only note of discord in the vast architectural unity of the church. The device was constructionally clever, and doubtless was the best that could have been adopted, but the necessity for its adoption was unfortunate.

VIII.

CHAPTER-HOUSE and cloisters, like the church itself, are complete to-day as at first constructed, and they too are in the EarlyEnglish style. They were built just after the church was finished and resemble the west VOL. XXXV.-96.

façade, being richer in feature and detail than the nave against the south side of which they lie. Every cathedral chapter needed, of course, a chapter-house for its assemblings; but only monastic establishments needed cloister-walks for the daily recreation of the monks who led their lives in common. Salisbury's chapter was always collegiate, and its cloisters, therefore, were a pure piece of architectural luxury. The fact speaks very plainly through the absence of other monastic structures. Nothing more than we see to-day ever stood at Salisbury except a lofty bell-tower on the north side of the churchyard. It was "multangular in form, surmounted by a leaden spire; with walls and buttresses similar to the chapter-house and cloisters, and a single pillar of Purbeck marble in the center, supporting the bells and spire." It was destroyed by Wyatt, apparently for no reason, but with full consent of dean and chapter.

The cloisters, with their coupled windows, simple traceries, and groined roofs are very beautiful, and the priests well gave the name of "Paradise" to the central square of turf with its group of dusky cedars. The chapterhouse is of the typical English form - an octagon with great windows filling the space between its buttresses, and an overarching roof borne by a central column. Yet it does not charm us quite so much as some of the

sister-buildings we shall meet elsewhere. Its forms and proportions seem thin and poor, cold and mechanical, and a modern attempt to restore its painted color has given it a dismal tawdriness. If we want to see it at its best we must stand outside, to the southward, beyond the door which leads from the cloisters into the bishop's garden. Here its polygonal walls and the low walls of the cloister group wonderfully well with the varied

deep velvet turf. The church seems rather to rest upon the surface of this turf than to send out roots into the soil below. The fact might be unfortunate in a smaller structure, giving it a look of slightness and insecurity. But here the structure is so immense, its lateral arms stretch out so broadly, and its square angles are so bold and steady in expression, that it has no need to show its foundations more distinctly. The simple profiling of its lower walls strikes us indeed, but as an added element in that general air of lightness, spring, and grace which so singularly distinguishes this cathedral.

masses of the church itself. The composition is one of infinite purity, charm, and, if I so may say, soft grandeur; and the wide stretch of idyllic garden beyond, leading off to the stately palace, is a setting such as England alone can furnish to her structures.

Passing around the church again we marvel at the perfect finish of its masonry and the beauty of its color-pale ashy gray, conspicuously stained below with wide growths of red and yellow lichens. We marvel too at the lack of emphatic treatment in the foundations. Here, where Nature gave no rocky base, we might have looked for a rock-like base of masonry, but the walls rise nearly straight from the

The wall around the close was not built until the fourteenth century, when Edward III. gave permission to "embattle" the cathedral precincts and to use for the purpose the stones of the old church at Sarum. On the north the wall lies so far off from the church, and on the west it comes, comparatively speaking, so near, that the secondary rank of the façade is again explained to the eye. It is nowhere a very lofty wall and in some parts it is very low. Here and there among its stones may be seen bits of Norman carving, which are the only existing witnesses to the style and finish of the ancient hill-town church.

Beyond the wall to the west runs a row of

canons' homes, each set back in its luxuriant little garden. To the north is another expanse of green and then more houses. Most of the dwellings are of Elizabethan design, or of one of those Queen Anne or Georgian patterns which in this country we call "colonial." In size and shape they constantly remind us of things we have seen at home, but in material and color they are wholly English. They have fine redtiled roofs, and their walls are of brick, or of brick and plaster, or of stone and flint; and where the stones have been patched with ruddy bricks there is no effort to conceal the disparity in material which gives so beautiful a variety in tint. Vines cover, trees embower, and flowers encircle them. The color effect as a whole is enchanting, and the air of mingled dignity, unworldliness, and peace which broods over the church itself broods over the dwellings of its ministrants as well.

Richard Poore, who, as bishop of Salisbury, founded its new church, was the same who a little later, as bishop of Durham, founded there the Chapel of the Nine Altars. It is unlikely that

he was in either case the architect; and though the Early-English style is used in both buildings, it is so differently used as not to suggest that their designer was one and the same. The utmost simplicity of which the Lancet Pointed style is capable rules at Salisbury, the utmost luxuriance at Durham-as regards not profuseness of ornament alone but the constructional forms themselves. It is a singular coincidence, therefore, but doubtless nothing more, that the first man whom we know to have actually built at Salisbury-perhaps as architect, perhaps merely as clerk-of-the-works -bears the name of the northern town, Elias de Derham.

Although Salisbury was a cathedral church from very early times, much of its history is as void of great prelatical names as the history of Peterborough, which was merely an abbey church until the sixteenth century. Not the bishops but the earls of Salisbury, whose crosslegged effigies may be seen in the nave, made the name of their town a power in the world. M. G. van Rensselaer.

THE FALL OF SUMTER.

ILITARY and naval expeditions rarely move at their first appointed time. That prepared by Captain Fox for Sumter was, by the President's order, directed to sail on April 6, but did not actually start till the 9th; that prepared by Captain Meigs for Fort Pickens was to have got off on the 2d, but only sailed on the 6th. The fitting out of both went on simultaneously at New York, but the officers concerned were not cognizant of each other's plans and measures, and it so happened that, through a misunderstanding which did not come to light until after the sailing of the latter, the war ship Powhatan, upon which Captain Fox depended for his most effective aid in his proposed efforts to relieve Fort Sumter, was transferred to the command of Lieutenant Porter, and sailed to Fort Pickens instead. The details of the incident are too long for the pages of this magazine and must be passed, with the simple statement that the

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(FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRADY.)

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Meigs expedition, in conjunction with the successful delivery of fresh orders to the fleet at Pensacola, made Fort Pickens entirely secure against assault by the rebel forces under Bragg, and also rendered more safe the Federal forts at Key West and Tortugas.

Meanwhile affairs at Fort Sumter were hastening to a crisis more rapidly than President Lincoln had been led to expect. The various occurrences during the month of March had created in Anderson the strong expectation that he would receive orders to evacuate the fort, and under this belief less care was taken to make his provisions hold out than might have been done. His letter of the 31st gave notice that "the last barrel of flour was issued day before yesterday"; and on the first day of April he once more

wrote:

The South Carolina Secretary of War has not sent the authority asked for yesterday to enable me to send off the discharged laborers. Having been in daily expectation since the return of Colonel Lamon to Washington of receiving orders to vacate this post, I have kept these men here as long as I could.... I told Mr. Fox that if I placed the command on short allowance I could make the provisions last until after the 10th of this month; but as I have received no instructions from the Department that it was desirable I should do so, it has not been done. If the governor permits me to send off the laborers, we will have rations enough to last us about one week longer.*

Upon receipt of this notice President Lincoln issued his final order for the departure of the Sumter expedition, of which he gave notice to Anderson in the following instructions, drafted with his own hand:

WASHINGTON, April 4, 1861. SIR: Your letter of the 1st instant occasions some anxiety to the President. On information of Captain Fox he had supposed you could hold out till the 15th instant without any great inconvenience, and had prepared an expedition to relieve you before that period. Hoping still that you will be able to sustain yourself till the 11th or 12th instant, the expedition will go forward; and, finding your flag flying, will attempt to provision you, and, in case the effort is resisted, will endeavor also to reënforce you.

You will therefore hold out, if possible, till the arrival of the expedition. It is not, however, the intention of the President to subject your command to any dan ger or hardship beyond what, in your judgment, would be usual in military life, and he has entire confidence that you will act as becomes a patriot and a soldier, under all circumstances. Whenever, if at all, in your judgment, to save yourself and command, a capitulation becomes a necessity, you are authorized to make it.t

Anderson to Thomas, April 1, 1861. War Records. + Lincoln, Autograph MS,

This manuscript draft, in words so brief and explicit, in tone so considerate and humane, in foresight and moderation so eminently characteristic of its author, as manifested in almost every important document of his administration, was sent to the War Department, where it was copied in quadruplicate, addressed to Major Robert Anderson, signed by Simon Cameron, Secretary of War, and one copy immediately transmitted by mail to Fort Sumter, while other copies were dispatched by other methods. That same afternoon the Secretary of War and General Scott gave Captain Fox-who, having completed his preliminary arrangements, had come to Washington for the purpose - his final and confidential orders for the command, the destination, the supplies, and the reënforcements of the expedition. In a conversation that afternoon Fox reminded Lincoln that but nine days would remain in which to reach Charleston from New York, a distance of six hundred and thirty-seven miles, and that with this diminished time his chances were greatly reduced. But the President, who had calculated all the probabilities of failure, and who with more comprehensive statesmanship was looking through and beyond the Sumter expedition to the now inevitable rebel attack and the response of an awakened and united North, calmly assured him that he should best fulfill

Anderson to Thomas, April 8, 1861. War Records.