The (almost really) Complete Works of Lewis Carroll

Against Certain Proposed Alterations in the Great Quadrangle

Having little confidence in the practical effect of a spoken argument, and still less in my own power of delivering one, I have adopted this method of laying before the Governing Body of Christ Church certain objections, which appear to me well-founded and worthy of consideration, against the proposed alterations in the terrace of the Great Quadrangle.

The alterations, to which I refer, are three. (1) The lowering of the terrace. (2) The narrowing of it. (3) The substitution of a grass slope for the existing stone wall.

(1) The lowering of the terrace is advocated on one ground only, so far as I know—that the lower portions of the shafts are at present concealed by the gravel. This reason would, to my mind, be quite enough to justify the change, provided no good reason could be urged against it; but this is not the case.

The objection, which I have to urge against it, can hardly be fairly appreciated except by looking at the thing itself. Let any one, who wishes to form an opinion for himself about the matter, stand near Tom Gate and carry his eye round the boundary, to the lawn, formed by the terrace-wall: he will see that, in proportion to its great extent, it is a very low wall already—only just enough to make a definite boundary to the grass. Imagine it reduced, and it ceases to be definite wall at all—it will look more like an accidental difference of level, between two parts of the Quadrangle, which had originally been one and the same plane surface. This evil would be intensified by substituting grass slope for wall: but this point I shall discuss further on, where it will be necessary, on account of the inevitable ‘cross-division’ of subject, to repeat part of what I have said here.

I think it not improbable that those who originally laid out the Quadrangle intended, at first, that the lower parts of the shafts should be visible, but that, finding the terrace to be too low for effect, and being prevented from lowering the central lawn by the necessity of keeping to the level of the street outside, they decided on sacrificing part of the shafts to preserve the general symmetry of the Quadrangle.

(2) The narrowing of the terrace is recommended on two grounds only, so far as I have heard: one, that it will make the central lawn larger, and therefore more handsome; the other, that it is in accordance with the original design of the Quadrangle.

As to the first reason, it would be little to say (though even this would be worth attention), that, in proportion as it makes the lawn more handsome, it makes the terrace less handsome. In point of fact, the two things are not at all in proportion—the loss enormously exceeds the gain: it would require a very large change in the area of the lawn to be perceptible to the eye, while a very little taken off the terrace would be missed at once. No one, I think, who has seen the terrace full of people (as at the time of the boat-races, &c.), will seriously maintain that it looks too broad, or that it has on these occasions any room to spare.

As to the second, I confess to seeing very little force in the general assertion that our ancestors were necessarily better judges of such matters than living men, or that what was thought right in a former age is necessarily (however the circumstances may have changed) right now.

I will not dwell much on positive arguments in favour of keeping to the present width, for I hold that the onus probandi lies altogether on those who are advocates for reducing it.

(3) The substitution of grass slope for wall.

There are three Quadrangles in Oxford which have raised terraces: Christ Church, Worcester (in which the terrace rus round two sides only), and Keble. Of these, the last two have grass slopes leading up to the terrace; ours is at present unique in having a wall instead. To my mind, the variety is in itself an advantage to Oxford, which would lose much of its present beauty if all the Colleges were built and ornamented on the same principle, however good that principle might be in itself.

But even if this argument be set aside, and if it be urged that the improvement in appearance overrides the objection in making the three terraced Quadrangles uniform, is it so certain that a grass slope would improve our Quadrangle? In Keble, the difference of level, between the terraces and the central lawn, is considerably greater than in Christ Church: in Worcester, it is fully double. In both these instances, it is high enough to form a well marked boundary to the central lawn, and in Worcester the great extent of bank derives much of its effect from the shrubs and creepers which cover the buildings above it. All this would be lost in our large Quadrangle: shrubs and creepers, which suit well the quiet terraces of Worcester, would be out of place in a Quadrangle which is a thoroughfare in all directions, and the very small difference of level (especially if it be yet further reduced, as is now proposed) would make the slope a very shadowy boundary for the eye to rest on, and would look more like the slight bank which usually fringes a croquêt-lawn, than a definite terrace.

It may be thought that I am giving too much importance to a small matter. But I cannot feel this to be a small matter. The good, or bad, taste shown in the alterations in Christ Church, is a matter of interest to all Oxford, and to a great many out of Oxford—I might add, out of England, for I suppose there is no University in the world more celebrated for the beauty of its Colleges.

It may be thought, again, an impertinence in me, with no technical knowledge of the subject, to put my views before the Governing Body, instead of leaving the thing to be settled by professional authorities. But this is a matter which seems to me to be personally interesting to each member of the Governing Body, and also one which may fairly be (and most certainly will be) discussed by those who have no technical knowledge. An architect’s vocation would be indeed a limited one, if none but architects could appreciate his work.

It is much to be desired that in this matter each should form his own independent opinion. Already we have made two changes which (even if they are not, as I think them to be, serious mistakes) are certainly open to much hostile criticism. In the new double entrance to the Cathedral we have violated (without any adequate reason that I can see) two of the most undeniable of the canons of Church architecture (see Appendix): while in the temporary (as I earnestly trust) wooden Belfry we have done a wrong to the artistic sense of all admirers of Oxford, which will not soon be forgotten. It will, I fear be long remembered against us that, when it was necessary to provide a temporary covering (to last two years at the least, possibly more) for the bells, and when it was obviously in our power to do so by a structure which, if not gratifying, should at least be not offensive to the eye, we have chosen to inflict on the City (and the neighbourhood, for it is painfully visible from the railway) a wholly unnecessary eye-sore. I say ‘wholly unnecessary,’ for the justification, which I have more than once heard pleaded in its behalf, can never surely be seriously maintained—that if the building had been at all endurable to the eye, we should have rested contented with it, and never gone to any further expense to replace it by a real Bell-Tower. For this is the very argument employed by street musicians, who employ bagpipes, and other offensive musical instruments, as a means of eliciting money from reluctant contributors, and who, in the words placed under Seymour’s clever sketch, ‘never move on under a shilling.’

One more point let me urge in conclusion. No one will deny that the Quadrangle, at present, both looks well and serves its purpose well. It is, to say the very least, very doubtful whether, after the proposed alterations, it will do either.

Let us at least consider this matter fully before we do what may be so difficult to undo, and, whatever change we make, at least make it with our eyes open to all the consequences it may involve.

Appendix

“If entrance is required for multitudes at the same time, the size of the aperture either must be increased, or other apertures must be introduced. It may, in some buildings, be optional with the architect whether he shall give many small doors, or few large ones; and in some, as theatres, amphitheatres, and other places where the crowd are apt to be impatient, many doors are by far the best arrangement of the two. Often, however, the purpose of the building, as when it is to be entered by processions, or where the crowd must usually enter in one direction, require the large single entrance; and (for here again the aesthetic and structural laws cannot be separated) the expression and harmony of the building require, in nearly every case, an entrance of largeness proportioned to the multitude which is to meet within. Nothing is more unseemly than that a great multitude should find its way out and in, as ants and wasps do, through holes; and nothing more undignified than the paltry doors of many of our English Cathedrals, which look as if they were made, not for the open egress, but for the surreptitious drainage of a stagnant congregation.¹ Besides, the expression of the church door should lead us, as far as possible, to desire at least the western entrance to be single, partly because no man of right feeling would willingly lose the idea of unity and fellowship in going up to worship, which is suggested by the vast single entrance; partly because it is at the entrance that the most serious words of the building are always addressed, by its sculptures or inscriptions, to the worshipper; and it is well that these words should be spoken to all at once, as by one great voice, not broken up into week repetitions over minor doors. * * * * However, whether the entrances be single, triple, or manifold, it is a constant law that one shall be principal, and all shall be of size in some degree proportioned to that of the building.”