University of Virginia Library

II. 2

RECONSTRUCTION

II.2.1

THE CHURCH
AS DEFINED IN THE DRAWING

MATERIAL AND WALL THICKNESS

It is obvious that the Church of the Plan of St. Gall was
meant to be a masonry structure (figs. 107-113). Semicircular
apses, circular towers, spiral stairs, the columnar
order of the arcades of the nave—which, because of the way
they were spaced must have been surmounted by arches—
the barrel-vaulted corridors of the crypt, the arched galleries
of the abutting paradise—all these are features
germane to stone construction. Although there is abundant
evidence that in the ninth century a high percentage of the
smaller transalpine parish churches were built of timber,[129]
it is equally clear that an abbey church, intended to serve
as a model, could only have been constructed in stone. All
the major Carolingian churches were built in stone.

Some of the more hallowed parts of the Church, such as
the crypt or the interior of the apse and the fore choir, may
have been built in ashlar, but all the principal walls of the
Church were unquestionably built in roughly coursed
rubble. We have good parallels for both these techniques
in the Palace Chapel at Aachen (798-805), the Abbey
Church of Corvey-on-the-Weser (873-885), and the
Church of Germigny-des-Prés (799-818), in all of which
the external work was built in rubble, while most of the
structural parts of the interior were constructed in dressed
stones.[130] Other examples of Carolingian ashlar construction
are found in the crypts of St.-Germain of Auxerre (841859)
and Flavigny (864-878).[131]

It is reasonable to assume that a church of the dimensions
of that of the Plan of St. Gall rested on foundations
about 5 feet wide. This is suggested by the dimensions of
the bases of the nave columns, and by the dimensions of
the supports which stand at the point where the aisle walls
meet the walls of the transept. It is equally reasonable to
assume that the full thickness of the foundation walls was
not retained in the walls themselves. A thickness of 3¼ feet
or 40 inches (one and one-half standard units) would
appear to be a reasonable assumption for both the aisle
walls and the clerestory walls.

ELEVATION

The elevation of the Church (figs. 108-113) must by necessity
remain a matter of conjecture. We have calculated it on
the assumption of certain minimal heights for consecutive
parts of the Church, moving in additive progression from
the lower to the upper portions of the building. The
aggregate of the estimates thus obtained produces a fairly
convincing picture.

The arcaded walls of the cloister, the northern wing of
which is built against the southern aisle of the Church,
must have been at least 10 feet high to give head clearance
to the monks who walked in this wing. The arched exits, in
the center of each cloister walk, are shown on the Plan
itself as being 7½ feet high. They must have had above
them a small amount of masonry to carry the timbers of the
roof which covered their walks. To this we have assigned a
height of 2½ feet.

The roof which covered the northern cloister walk—
assuming that it rose at an angle of about 30 degrees—
would have connected with the wall of the southern aisle
of the Church at a height of 17½ feet above the ground.
Beyond that point the aisle walls must have continued for
at least another 12½ feet in order to give clearance for the
windows (to which we have assigned an estimated height of
7½ feet). This would bring the top of the aisle walls to a
height of 30 feet. The aisle walls of the Abbey Church of
Fulda rose to a height of 8.75 m., which comes close to 30
Roman feet.[132] The aisle walls of St. Gall cannot have been
any lower than that, since the tie-beams that supported the
aisle roofs had to clear the arches over the nave arcades.
These beams could not have cleared the arches at a level
lower than 30 feet, as will be shown presently.

The columns of the arcades of the nave are spaced at
intervals of 20 feet on center. The apex of the extrados of
the arches that rose from these columns cannot have been
any lower than 30 feet, without resulting in inordinately
depressed arcade proportions. Above the extrados of these
arches there must have been some 15 feet of clearance for
the aisle roof, and above the level of the aisle roof another
15 feet of clearance for the clerestory wall and its windows.

[ILLUSTRATION]

PLAN OF ST. GALL

108. CHURCH AND CLAUSTRUM, TRANSVERSE SECTION

The sections and elevations, as well as the perspective view of the
interior of the Church shown on the opposite and on subsequent
pages are our attempt to show what the Church of the Plan would
have looked like had it been built in full three-dimensional reality.
There is nothing mysterious about our conjecture. The nave of the
Church, as we are told by an unequivocal explanatory title, had a
width of 40 feet, each of its aisles a width of 20. We have assigned
to each component of the elevation of nave and Claustrum a
comfortable height required by its function and in this manner
arrived at a height of 30 feet for the aisle walls, and of 60 feet for
the nave walls. This is in full harmony with the decimal thinking
that controls the Plan in the planimetric sense, as our analysis of
its scale and construction has shown (above, pp. 77ff).

109. CHURCH, LONGITUDINAL SECTION

It is in longitudinal section that the pristine modular quality of the
proportions of the Church (cf. fig. 173) finds its strongest expression.
All measurements are related to the controlling module
of the crossing, a 40-foot square. The columnar interstices
(measured on centers) are exactly half that value. This condition
is responsible for the magnificent width and height of the
arcades—a concept fundamentally different from the low, narrow
intercolumniation of the great Early Christian prototype churches
from which the Church of the Plan is typologically derived (for
good examples see figs. 81, 141, 170, 174, and 177).

Although nave and transept were of equal width we cannot be
certain that they also were of equal height. Yet even if the transept
was lower, it is reasonable to assume that the crossing was
disengaged, i.e. framed by boundary arches on all four sides. There
are good contemporary parallels for either alternative (cf. fig. 15,
a low transept with boundary arches of unequal height; and figs.
116 and 117, high transepts with boundary arches of equal
height.)

---

[ILLUSTRATION]

110. PLAN OF ST. GALL. CHURCH INTERIOR. VIEW TOWARD EAST APSE

AUTHORS' INTERPRETATION

The Church of the Plan—its interior appearance here recreated by Ernest Born—was never built. Yet being conceived, it became a historical
reality, and our reconstruction for that reason, if correct in its principal lines, is a significant contribution to the visual history of medieval
architecture. The underlying compositional scheme (nave, two aisles and transept) is Early Christian. But none of the great metropolitan
basilicas of the West had arcades so wide and high, or proportions so rationally coordinated with a spatial master value, by the alignment of
the columnar interstices with the 40-foot module of the crossing square.

Thus we would arrive at a height of 60 feet for the clerestory
walls. The clerestory walls of the Abbey Church of
Fulda were 21.10 m. high, which corresponds roughly to
60 Roman feet.[133] The relation of the width to the heights
of the nave of the Church of the Plan would then be a ratio
of 1:1½ (40:60 feet), which is in harmony with the ratio of
1:1½ obtained in calculating the corresponding proportions
of the aisles (20:30 feet). From the floor to the ridge of its
highest roof, the Church of the Plan would probably have
measured 75 feet.

Admittedly these calculations are schematic, yet they are
based on constructional assumptions which are reasonable.

COLUMNS

The profiles of the bases, shafts, and capitals of the arcade
columns in our reconstruction (figs. 108-110) of the Church
of the Plan of St. Gall are based on the surviving Carolingian
columns of the church of St. Justin in Höchst-on-the-Main[134]
dating from shortly after 834 (fig. 114) and on
the surviving Carolingian columns of the Abbey Church of
Corvey (873-885).[135] Had we known at the time our drawings
were made of the recently excavated capitals from the
church which Abbot Gozbert built in the monastery of St.
Gall with the aid of the Plan (fig. 115), we might have used
them as a model for the capitals of the Church of the Plan.
The height of the shaft of the columns at Höchst amounted
to about four times the height of its capitals, not counting
the imposts. In our reconstruction of the columns of the
Plan we have used about the same proportion. In Höchst
the relation of width to height of the arcade opening is
1:1.7; in the Church of the Plan, it is 1:1.5.

CROSSING

The reconstruction of the crossing (figs. 108-112) has been
a matter of some controversy and, in fact, permits different
interpretations. Two basic questions present themselves
immediately: first, was the crossing surmounted by a
tower; and second, were the roofs of nave and transept of
equal height? The first of these two questions must, I
think, be answered in the negative. The second does not
admit a clear-cut answer.

Crossing towers have been assumed in Fiechter-Zollikofer's
and Gruber's reconstructions of the Church of
the Plan (figs. 277 and 282).[136] Historically, this is a perfectly
feasible solution. Square towers, rising from crossings
produced by the interpenetration of two volumes of space
of essentially equal height, existed in the Abbey Church of
St.-Denis, constructed under Abbot Fulrad, 750-755;[137]
in the basilica of Neustadt-on-the-Main after 768/69[138]
(fig. 116); in the Abbey Church of St. Mary's on the island
of Reichenau, consecrated by Bishop Haito in 816[139] (fig.
117); and in the church of St. Martin at Angers, end of
ninth century.[140] But the Plan of St. Gall does not call for a
tower. In any of the other buildings, wherever a structure
was composed of two stories, the maker of the Plan indicated
this by an explanatory title, defining the function of
the lower story with a phrase that begins with the adverb
infra, "below," and that of the upper story by a phrase
that begins with the adverb supra, "above."[141] Had he
meant the crossing to be surmounted by a tower, he could
have expressed his intention with a statement such as infra
chorus, supra turris—"below, the choir; above, a tower."
The fact that he did not do this suggests that a crossing
tower was not intended.

With regard to the respective heights of nave and transept,
the traditional view has been that they were of equal
height and that the crossing was framed by boundary
arches on all four sides, rising from wall pilasters and from
cruciform piers (figs. 107-110). It is in this manner that
the crossing unit was interpreted by Friedrich Seesselberg
(1897), Georg Dehio (1901), Wilhelm Effmann (1899 and
1912), Friedrich Ostendorf (1922), Joseph Hecht (1928),
Ernst Gall (1930), and Edgar Lehman (1938).[142] It is also
the view that underlies the graphical reconstructions of the
Church, published by J. R. Rahn (1876), Joseph Hecht
(1928), H. Fiechter-Zollikofer (1936), and Karl Gruber
(1937 and 1952).[143]

However, this explanation of the Plan was questioned by
Hermann Beenken and by Samuel Guyer,[144] who felt that
to interpret the supports in the corners of the crossing of
the Church as piers and pilasters was not permissible,
because the symbol used for these members (a square with
a circle inscribed) is identical with that which is used for
the nave columns. Beenken's and Guyer's criticism is based
on the arbitrary assumption that the square with the
inscribed circle could only have had the exclusive meaning
of "column." A more circumspect analysis of the use and
distribution of this symbol discredits this view. In the
Monks' Refectory, the House for Distinguished Guests,
and the Abbot's House, the same sign is used to designate

a cupboard (toregma). In the Monks' Refectory it is also
used to designate a lectern (analogiu). In the room for the
preparation of the holy bread and the holy oil it stands for
"oil press," in the Monks' Privy, for "a table with a
lantern" (lucerna), and in the hypocausts of the Monks'
Warming Room, the Novitiate and the Infirmary, it stands
for "chimney stack" (euaporatio fumi). It seems absurd to
persist on a course of reasoning which is based on the
supposition that the designer of the Plan of St. Gall was
unaware of the distinction between a pier and a column
because he used the same symbol for both of these structural
members. To do so would be no less incongruous than
to accuse him of having designed a clerestory wall whose
arcades rested on cupboards, lecterns, oil presses, lantern-carrying
tables, or chimney stacks.[145]

It is obvious that in drawing the structural members of
his church, the architect availed himself of a symbol whose
meaning was not limited to "columns," but could be understood
in the more general sense of "arch-support," leaving
it to the builder of the Church to interpret this sign as its
architectural context required, either as a freestanding
column (as in the nave arcades) or as an engaged half column
(wherever it is shown as being part of a wall), or as cruciform
piers (as in the four corners of the crossing). In order
to preclude any further misunderstandings I should like to
pursue more closely the evidence furnished by the Plan
itself.

The Plan indicates clearly that the supports which stand
in the western corners of the crossing must have been
shaped in such a way as to receive the arches of the easternmost
arcade on either side of the nave, as well as the arches
of the openings which connect the aisles with the transept.
Furthermore, they must have been able to receive on a
higher level the springing of the triumphal arch. The
existence of the triumphal arch cannot be proven on the
basis of the linear layout of the Plan, but its presence is
mandatory in a building of this size for obvious constructional
reasons.

The square symbols with the inscribed circles in the two
eastern corners of the crossing postulate the existence in
these places of engaged pilasters on columns, that make
sense only if we assume that they served as footing for
either a transverse arch, which separated the crossing from
the fore choir, or two longitudinal arches thrown across the
transept arms in prolongation of the nave walls. One of these
two assumptions is obligatory, but the fact that only one
of them can be established compellingly does not preclude
the other. The Plan does not provide us with any evidence
that would warrant dismissing the possibility that the
Church was meant to have had an arch-framed crossing
(fig. 110).

As for the elevation of this crossing unit of the Church of
the Plan, it is futile to speculate whether it belonged to the
fully developed type with arches of equal height, which
became a standard feature of western architecture at the
period of the Romanesque, or whether it belonged to any

[ILLUSTRATION]

PLAN OF ST. GALL

111.A CHURCH. NORTH ELEVATION

111.B CHURCH. SOUTH ELEVATION

Because of the surrounding buildings, no one standing on the
monastery grounds would have been able to entirely encompass
these two magnificent views of the Church. They strikingly
portray the antinomy and balance between directional thrust and
inward-turning that characterizes Carolingian double-apsed
churches of this type.

One may feel perplexed by the aesthetic kinship of these two-apsed
Carolingian churches—not so much by such unidirectional classics
of Early Christian architecture as Old St. Peter's (fig. 141) or
St. Paul's Outside the Walls (fig. 81) upon which their layout is
based (cf. below, p. 187ff); but rather with the pagan imperial
prototypes of these great palaeochristian transept churches, the
Roman market halls, many of which had apses at each end; and
most of which had attached to one broad side (as in the case of the
Church of the Plan of St. Gall) an open, galleried court through
which the building was entered laterally rather than on axis
(basilica of Trajan, fig. 239; Severan basilica at Lepcis Magna,
fig. 159; basilica of Silchester, fig. 202).

The Church of the Plan of St. Gall is a sophisticated combination
of both concepts. It is directional like the churches of the two
prime apostles, because the transept and presbytery, in the
heaping-up of their spatial masses, make it clear that the architecturally
most prominent part of the church, and its liturgical
focus, is its cruciform eastern end. This effect is emphasized in the
interior, through the raising of the floor level of the Presbytery
over the level of all of the other parts of the church; and on the
exterior, through the attachment to the two transept arms, on
either side of the Presbytery, of two double storied lean-to's, one
containing Sacristy and Vestry (south side) the other Scriptorium
and Library (north side).

Yet this directionalism has no starting point, because the church
has no façade. Instead it faces the outside world with a counter
apse which binds its spatial energies inward, blocking access to the
nave, and channeling visiting laymen in a semicircular movement
around it to aesthetically insignificant secondary entrances in the
aisles (cf. caption to fig. 82).

Double apsed-churches (cf. below, pp. 199ff) were common in the
palaeochristian architecture of North Africa, but rare in the
Italian homeland. Recent studies have shown that they also were
very common in Visigothic Spain (for a brief review see the
article Hispania in Reallexikon zur Byzantinischen
Kunst) which may have played a more important role in transmission
of this motif to the Carolingian world than has hitherto
been admitted or recognized.

---

165

[ILLUSTRATION]

112. PLAN OF ST. GALL. CHURCH SEEN FROM THE NORTH LOOKING SOUTH

AUTHORS' INTERPRETATION

This broadside view of the Church displays with great pictorial strength the magnificent grouping of its slender longitudinal masses, intercepted
in the east by a monumental transept.

The Church has no façade, but its entrance side has, instead, a counter apse encircled by a semicircular atrium through which visitors are
channeled sidewards into the aisles of the building (cf. fig. 82). We have reconstructed the transept as being equal in height to the nave of the
Church, although this dimension is not certain. The double-storied lean-to attached to the northern transept arm in the east contains the
Scriptorium (on the ground floor) and the Library (above). The extended lean-to attached to the northern aisle of the Church in its entire
length accommodates the Lodging for the Visiting Monks (next to the transept), the Lodging of the Master of the Outer School (in the middle,
and Lodging of the Porter next to the entrance of the Church).

In the monastery itself this view of the Church could never have been seen in totality because of the adjacent buildings whose ridge reached to
the sill level of the nave windows. They are from left to right: the Abbot's House (co-axial with the transept), the Outer School (next to the
Lodging of its Master) and the House for Distinguished Guests (next to the Lodging of the Porter).

[ILLUSTRATION]

113. PLAN OF ST. GALL. CHURCH SEEN FROM THE WEST LOOKING EAST

AUTHORS' INTERPRETATION [after the model displayed at Aachen in 1965]. ELEVATION TAKEN ON SECTION X-X

This is the only example of a Carolingian church with detached circular towers. The motif is unique and does not appear in later medieval
architecture. Explanatory titles denote that its towers carried at the top of one the altar of Michael, of the other, the altar of Gabriel. There is
no indication of the presence of bells, and, because of the distance from the high altar, their sound in any case could not have been coordinated
with the liturgy. Gabriel and Michael are the celestial guardians representing forces of light against those of darkness and evil. The towers have
no practical function, but symbolically might announce from afar to travellers (and at close range almost threateningly) that they approach a
Fortress of God.

[ILLUSTRATION]

115.X REICHENAU-MITTELZELL

HAITO'S CHURCH OF ST. MARY
(806-816)

This capital from the main
arcades was re-used in a
column ascribed to Witigowo
(985-997). Its floral motifs,
although distantly based on
classical sources, represent in their
simplicity and flatness of relief
an early, rather than a high
Carolingian tradition. One is
reminded of developmental
stages of the Godescale Gospels
or the Genoels-Elderen diptych
(Fig. 190.X).

[ILLUSTRATION]

114. HÖCHST-ON-THE-MAIN. ST. JUSTINIUS, CAPITAL, CA. 834

This superb piece of Carolingian architectural sculpture combines a Greco-Roman acanthus capital with a strigilated Byzantine impost, plus a
refreshing touch of medieval abstraction. It embodies a synthesis of style, the historical ingredients of which are found in similar combinations in
some of the most accomplished illuminations of the period, such as the portrait of St. Luke in the Ada Gospels (fig. 184.A)

[ILLUSTRATION]

115 ST. GALL CAPITAL.

EXCAVATED BELOW THE PAVEMENT OF THE PRESENT CHURCH

CAPITAL FROM GOZBERT'S ABBEY CHURCH (830-837)

[after Sennhauser, "Zu den Ausgrabungen in der Kathedrale, der ehemaligen
Klosterkirche von St. Gallen," Festschrift zum 70. Geburtstag von Architekt
Hans Burkard, Gossau 1965, 109-116.]

More classicizing in the detail of its design than the capital of Höchst,
opposite, this one nevertheless seems to project a touch of weariness with
the classical tradition, clearly lacking stylistic firmness and sophistication
of the Höchst capital.

The capital, presumably from the columnar order of the nave arcades of
Gozbert's church, was re-used in the masonry of the foundations of the
Gothic choir built by abbots Eglolf and Ulrich VIII, between 1439 and
1483 (II, p. 326). It was discovered by R. H. Sennhauser in 1964 when
the south wall of the choir was breached to accommodate a modern
heating duct. For other discoveries made during these operations, see
preliminary report on Sennhauser's findings (II, 358-59).

*

Figure 115 shown above is reproduced from an original drawing executed in carbon
pencil, size, 8.5 × 10 inches (215 × 25.5cm). The drawing is based on a document
not adequate for direct photographic reproduction but possessing legibility features
of sufficient clarity and definition of form and detail to permit a drawing to be
developed with reasonable fidelity to the original artifact and satisfactory for the
purpose here.

of the precursor types, which Beenken designated with the
term "abgeschnürte Vierung."[146] It is true that a great
many Carolingian churches had low transepts, but it is
equally true that high transepts with arch-framed crossing
units existed in St.-Denis, as early as 750-755; in Neustadt-on-the-Main,
shortly after 768/69 (fig. 116); in the Abbey
Church of St. Mary's in Reichenau, before 816 (fig. 117).
The low transept may have been more common, but a
square crossing produced by the interpenetration of two
volumes of space of equal height, and framed by arches on
all four sides, was entirely within the realm of possible
solutions open to a Carolingian architect. Advanced and
superior as he was in so many other respects, the designer
of the Church of the Plan of St. Gall may also, in this
instance, have anticipated a development which had as yet
not found a widespread application in Carolingian architecture.

In our reconstruction of the Church of the Plan (figs.
108-112) we have chosen to emphasize this possibility. Had
we had more leisure and space, we would have supplemented
this solution with an alternate drawing that showed the
Church with a low transept. A reconstruction in which the
Church is furnished with a low transept will be found in
Emil Reisser's study of the Abbey of St. Mary's in
Reichenau-Mittelzell.[147]

CRYPT

Crank-shaped corridor crypts consisting of two straight
longitudinal arms connected in the east by a straight transverse
arm, existed in St.-Germain of Auxerre (841-859;
fig. 157)[148] and in St.-Pierre at Flavigny (864-878; fig.
158).[149] In both these churches the space between the surrounding
arms of the corridor crypt was taken up by a
hall crypt. The earlier students of the Plan of St. Gall
overlooked the title which refers to an inner confessio
(accessus ad confessionem) and, misled by this oversight,
reconstructed the crypt incorrectly as a small rectangular
chamber beneath the high altar, accessible only from the

[ILLUSTRATION]

116. NEUSTADT-AM-MAIN

SAVIOR'S CHURCH, AFTER 768-769

[after Boeckelmann, 1954, 105, fig. 41a]

In Neustadt, as well as in Reichenau-Mittelzell which had naves and
transepts of equal width and height, the masonry of the Carolingian
crossing arches survives in its original form and to full arch height.
In the churches of St. Riquier (fig. 196) and Cologne (fig. 15), both
of which had low transepts, the crossing arches were of unequal
height. In Early Christian architecture arch-framed crossings
occurred only in the highly specialized context of the quincunx
church (see below, pp. 190ff and figs. 145-46, 148-49, and 152), and
a small group of Near Eastern churches of minute dimensions, all
with nave and transept of equal width—but never in any of the
great metropolitan basilicas. The transfer of this motif to churches of
basilican plan and its incipient use, in this new context, as a modular
prime cell for the dimensional organization of the other component
spaces of the church is one of the great innovations of the Age of
Charlemagne.

[ILLUSTRATION]

117. REICHENAU-MITTELZELL. HAITO'S CHURCH OF SS MARY, PETER & PAUL (816)

ELEVATION [after Reisser, 1960, fig. 296]

If its system of alternating supports was influenced by St. Demetrios in Thessalonica (see below, fig. 188), this church could not have been
started until after Haito returned in 811 from Constantinople (on his way there he doubtless would have visited the famous sanctuary of St.
Demetrios) "with artists and workmen." For sources see Erdmann, 1974a, 501; for elevation and modular system see figs. 134 and 171.

east by a short axial passage (Seesselberg, Dehio, Effmann,
and even Gall).[150]

As a correction of this error, Ostendorf[151] and Hecht[152]
offered two solutions: the former suggested a straight
passage extending from the middle of the transverse shaft
of the corridor crypt to the crossing (fig. 118); the latter, a
small hall crypt around the tomb of the Saint, accessible
both from east and west (fig. 119).

Hecht was on the right track, in my opinion, in suggesting
a hall crypt, but a hall crypt about 13 feet square is not
commensurate with the generous proportions of the other
parts of the Church. Had the designer intended a crypt
either of the type suggested by Ostendorf, or of that suggested
by Hecht, he could have expressed his intention
easily by the addition of only a few more lines. The fact
that he did not do this suggests that he had in mind a crypt
that extended over the entire width of the fore choir and as
far outward as the safety of its foundation walls permitted.
That groin-vaulted hall crypts of these dimensions were
fully within the technical competence of a Carolingian
architect may be inferred from the vaulted ground stories
of Carolingian westworks, a remarkable example of which
survives in the Abbey of Corvey (fig. 120).[153] The excavations
of Joseph Vonderau at Fulda brought to light an
aisled hall crypt of approximately 30 × 30 feet, which was
built by Abbot Eigil between 820 and 822 under the east
choir of Ratger's church (802-817).[154] It had nine groin
vaults resting on six freestanding piers or columns and nine
corresponding wall supports (fig. 122). The earliest
surviving hall-crypt of this type, as far as I know, is the
crypt of the Church of St. George in Oberzell on the island
of Reichenau (fig. 121), built by Abbot Haito III between
890 and 896 in an oratory that had been founded by
Bishop Haito (d. 823).[155]

By analogy with these parallels we have reconstructed
the confessio of the Church of the Plan of St. Gall as a hall
crypt having a surface area of 20 × 32½ feet, covered by 6
groin vaults, each 10½ feet square (fig. 123).[156] The corridor
crypt may have been covered either by a simple barrel
vault, as in St.-Germain of Auxerre (fig. 157). or by a continuous
series of groin vaults, as in Flavigny (fig. 158).

Richard Krautheimer, in an exchange of letters devoted
to this subject, questioned the tenability of my interpretation
of the confessio of the Church of the Plan as an inner
hall crypt and, as we failed to arrive at any agreement on
this point, allowed me to discuss our variances of opinion
in print. Krautheimer feels convinced that the tomb of St.
Gall should be assumed to have had its place, not behind the
altar (as shown on the Plan) but beneath it. This was its
traditional place in Early Christian times from the fourth
century onward, as is exemplified by such churches as St.
Peter's, Santa Prassede, San Giorgio in Velabro, Santa
Cecilia, and many others.[157] By analogy with these churches
Krautheimer suggests the entrance designated accessus ad
confessionem should not be interpreted as a gate giving
access to a hall crypt, but as a window fenestella opening into
a small rectangular chamber located in front or around
the tomb of the Saint.

Coming from a man whose knowledge about Early
Christian and Early Medieval Architecture is matched by
none, these views must be given the most careful consideration.
They are bound to be shared by others and have, in
fact, already been suggested by Hans Reinhardt in 1937
and 1952[158] , by René Louis in 1952, and by Louis Hertig in
1958.[159] In reviewing the evidence, I find that I cannot
concur with these interpretations for a number of reasons:

1. Nowhere in any of the forty-odd buildings of the
Plan or any of its other installations does the drafter of the
scheme show anything as lying behind another object when
he means it to lie beneath it. Wherever something was
meant to be below or above something else this is indicated
through an explanatory title beginning with the preposition
infra or supra.[160]

2. In the churches of the monastery of St. Gall, from
the seventh century onward, i.e., in the early Irish oratory
as well as the churches which superseded it under Abbot
Otmar (719-759) and Abbot Gozbert (830-836), the sarcophagus
which enshrined the body of the Saint was de facto
not below but behind the altar (inter aram et parietem). I
have already had occasion to refer to this fact.[161] The same
condition prevailed at St. Riquier (Centula) as is attested
by a well-known passage in the Chronicle of Hariulf which
reads: "The tomb [of St. Richarius] itself, however, is so
placed that at the feet of this Saint his altar stands in an
elevated place, and at his head stands the altar of the
apostle St. Peter." (Sepultura vero ipsa ita posita est, ut a
parte pedum ipsius sancti altare sit in loco editiori, a parte
capitis sancti Petri Apostoli ara persistat.)[162]

[ILLUSTRATION]

118. PLAN OF ST. GALL

Crypt of Church, Ostendorf's interpretation

[Ostendorf 1922, 43, fig. 279]

This proposal provides a shaft too narrow to
allow monks to pray in privacy near the
saint's tomb, and furnishes insufficient
separation from laymen,

[ILLUSTRATION]

119. PLAN OF ST. GALL

Crypt of Church, Hecht's interpretation

[Hecht, 1928, pl. 10b]

Hecht is more generous in his provision of
space around the tomb of St. Gall than is
Ostendorf, yet he still allows for too
indiscriminate an intermixture of monks and
laymen.

[ILLUSTRATION]

120. CORVEY-ON-THE-WESER, GERMANY

WESTWORK OF ABBEY CHURCH, GROUND FLOOR (873-885)

While most Early Christian and Carolingian churches were timber roofed, the art of vaulting
continued to be practised in crypts and westworks, where it was needed to carry the weight of the
superincumbent work. Corvey and St. Riquier are magnificent examples of this tradition.

In the 11th century the groin was freed from confinement underground or in the avant-corps and
ascended into the principal body of the church, first to aisles (Jumièges, figs. 189.A-D), then to
nave (Speyer, figs. 190.A-B). In the transfer of Carolingian modularity to the elevation of the
church, and its marriage, at roof level, with the tradition of groin vaulting, medieval bay
division enters its final and most accomplished phase.

3. To interpret accessus ("access") as fenestella ("window")
is doing injustice to the Latinity of the churchman
who framed the explanatory titles of the Plan. Accessus is
"bodily admittance" (accedere means "to approach," "to
step toward"). The concept fenestella implies the opposite,
because a window, although granting visual access, is part
of a wall or barrier that precludes a bodily approach. The
clarity of the other explanatory titles of the Plan suggests
that if the framer of these titles had wanted to designate the
presence of a window in the wall between the two flights of
stairs which lead from the crossing to the high altar he
would have done so by choosing the proper and traditional
term for this device.[163] In Walahfrid Strabo's account of the
Miracles of St. Gall, there is mention of a fenestella opening
into the confessio of Abbot Gozbert's church at St. Gall,
but this window was in the pavement of the presbytery in
front of the high altar and it allowed the light of a lamp
suspended in front of that altar to "fall upon the altar of
the crypt beneath it.[164]

4. Finally, I must re-emphasize a point already amply
stressed in my descriptive analysis of the Plan: The layout
of the barriers in the two transept arms of the Church
leaves no doubt that the crank-shaped circumambient crypt
of the Church is reserved for the secular visitors of the
tomb, the southern arm serving as access for the Pilgrims
and Paupers, the northern arm for Distinguished Guests
(fig. 82).[165] The monks, too, needed access to the sarcophagus
containing the relics of the Saint. I am drawing
attention once more in this context to chapter 7 of a
capitulary issued by Charlemagne in 789, which directs
in the clearest and most unequivocal terms that such
private oratories be constructed "near the place where the
sacred body rests so that the brothers can pray in secrecy."[166]
Monastic integrity and seclusion required that such an
oratory be separate from those spaces through which the
secular visitors gain access to the tomb. A simple fenestella,
located at a distance of 17½ feet from the westernmost end
of the tomb of St. Gall could not have performed this function
and, in fact would have been meaningless. There was
a need for devotional space in front of the tomb, sufficiently
large to accommodate an altar and large enough to admit
at least a modicum of worshipping monks. One might
quarrel about the relative size of that space, but one should
not question its existence.

In discussions of this as well as of many other important
features of the Plan of St. Gall, the innovative character of
this ingenious monastery scheme has been consistently
underrated. The spatial functional needs of a Carolingian
monastery church differed vastly from those of their
metropolitan Early Christian prototype churches and called
for new solutions. We shall have more to say about this in
the next chapter.

WINDOWS

The reconstruction of the windows offers no serious difficulties,
as Carolingian windows survive in many places.
We have fashioned the windows of the Church of the Plan
after those of the basilica of Einhardt at Steinbach-in-the
Odenwald (827), the design of which has been the subject
of a special study by Walter Boeckelmann.[167] These
windows are narrow at the outer wall surface; however, the
jambs are strongly splayed toward the inside, with steeply
slanting sills and arches. Splayed windows appear sporadically
in Roman architecture,[168] and toward the end of the
sixth century (although not a typical feature even then), and
they were apparently common enough to attract the notice
of Gregory the Great (590-604), who expressed himself on
their virtues:

In times when glass was a rare and costly commodity, the
splayed window offered the advantage of keeping the area
of glass minimal, while admitting the maximum amount of
light.

ROOF

There can be no doubt that the frame of the roof of the
Church of St. Gall was meant to be constructed in timber.
It took two more centuries in the development of western
architecture before basilicas of major dimensions were
vaulted in stone. Since no timbered Carolingian church
roofs survive to guide us in our reconstruction, the details
of the carpentry of the roof of the Church must remain a
matter of conjecture. The earliest extant medieval church
roofs date from the twelfth century. They consist of simple
sequences of coupled rafters of uniform scantling rising

[ILLUSTRATION]

121. REICHENAU-OBERZELL. CHURCH OF ST. GEORGE (890-896). CRYPT

This view shows the crypt as seen from its entry shaft. Of monumental simplicity and great structural beauty, the crypt is square in plan and coextensive
with the square choir rising above it. It is covered by nine groin vaults supported in the center by four free-standing columns.

from the ends of a tie-beam and made rigid by collar beams
and an elaborate system of bracing struts. The cross section
of the twelfth-century roofs of the churches of St.-Germain-des-Prés
and St.-Pierre-de-Montmartre in Paris (figs. 124125)
are typical examples.[170]

Although perfectly feasible for churches of moderate
dimensions, this roof design would not have been solid
enough, in my opinion, to safely span the vast interstices
between the clerestory walls of the larger Carolingian
churches. The nave of the Abbey Church of Fulda, 802819
(fig. 138) had an inner width of 17m (calculated by
Vonderau as corresponding to 60 Roman feet),[171] and thus
was narrower than the nave of its Early Christian prototype,
Old St. Peter's in Rome (fig. 141), by only a small margin
(18.80m, listed by Volbach as corresponding to 61 feet,
8 inches).[172] I am inclined to believe that the roof that
covered the basilica of Fulda derived its design from the
same source that inspired the entire building.[173] That the
roof of Old St. Peter's was well known to Frankish architects
may be inferred from two letters of Pope Hadrian I to
Charlemagne (one written between 779 and 801; the other,
between 781 and 786), in which the pontiff asks the
emperor not only for the beams for the repair of the roof
of St. Peter's but also for a magister to supervise the work—
clear evidence of the high esteem Frankish carpenters and
builders enjoyed in Rome in those days. The Pope asked
for the services of no lesser man than Wilcharius, Bishop of
Sens, to direct the restoration.[174]

Carlo Fontana made an engraving in 1694 of the roof
trusses spanning the nave of Old St. Peter's (fig. 126); these
he considered to be an authentic record of the original
(Early Christian) roof of the church.[175] The nave span of the
Church of the Plan is only about one-half (40 feet) of that
of Old St. Peter's, and therefore, would not have required a
roof of such heavy design. In our reconstruction of the roof
of the Church (figs. 108-110) we have been guided by a roof
design which, it is believed, was a standard Early Christian
type, and which, to judge by a description in Vitruvius'
Fourth Book,[176] must also have been standard for broad
spans in Roman Imperial times. Vitruvius distinguishes
between two roof types, one suited for "spaces of relatively
small dimensions" (commoda spatia), the other for buildings
involving "broader spans" (majora spatia). The former,
according to his description, consisted of two simple
rows of rafters converging at the top in a ridge beam and
extending downward all the way out to the eaves of the
building (columen et cantherii prominentes ad extremam
subgrundationem); the latter was made up of a sequence of
vertical trusses which supported the covering of the roof
by means of purlins. Vitruvius lists the different parts that
make up this frame and tells us that their names express
their different functions (ea autem uti in nominationibus ita
in re habet utilitates); "Under the roof, if the span is
broader, there are tie-beams (transtra) and bracing struts
(capreoli). . . . Above the principal rafters (cantherii) there
are the common rafters (asseres) extending outward sufficiently
to protect the walls with their overhang."[177]

This terminology is indeed highly descriptive and typical
of the classical habit of defining the functions of inanimate
objects by imagery borrowed from animate life. Cantherius
(a beast of burden) is an appropriate term for the load-bearing
action of the rafters; capreolus (a wild goat) expresses
vivdly the butting action of the diagonal timbers
locked in the center and at the bottom of the king post like
the horns of two fighting goats; transtrum, derived from the
preposition trans (across) is equally expressive of the purpose
of the large crossbeam that forms the base of the truss.
Vitruvius fails to furnish us with the name for the king
post, which in this type of construction rises almost
invariably from the center of the tie-beam to the ridge pole.
The primary function of this post is not to support, as has
been frequently thought, but to serve as a base of departure
for the diagonal bracing struts which prop the rafters midway
in their span, and thus prevent them from sagging
inward under the load of the roof covering.[178] The early
translators and commentators on Vitruvius have interpreted
these descriptions of the two basic Roman roof
types correctly; and such reconstructions based upon these
interpretations as are found, for instance, in Barbaro's
Italian translation of Vitruvius, published by Francesco
Marcolini in 1556 (fig. 127)[179] or in the 1827 edition of
Vitruvius published with commentary by Joannes Polenus,[180]
cannot, in my opinion, be improved upon.

The correctness of such interpretations has recently been
confirmed by George H. Forsyth's extraordinary discovery
of the original timbers of the roof of the sixth-century
church of St. Catherine at Mount Sinai, which is the

[ILLUSTRATION]

122. FULDA. ABBEY CHURCH

HALL CRYPT (817-819)

[after Vonderau, 1949, 52, fig. 6]

The monk Racholf, under Eigil's abbacy, built two crypts,
one before the western, the other beneath the eastern apse of
Ratger's church. Both were destroyed, the west crypt during
construction of the 18th-century church and the east when two
circular towers standing to its side collapsed in 1120-21. This
apse was completely rebuilt (1123-1158) by Markward,
presumably in its original form. Both crypts were dedicated by
Bishop Heistulf of Mainz in 819. (For archaeological details see
Vonderau, 1931, 49-61; for documentary sources the prose and
metric Vita Eigilis, in Mon. Germ. Hist., Script. XV:1,
229, and ibid., Poetae Lat. 11, 108.)

earliest surviving example of its kind.[181] But the design of
others, of even earlier date—exhibiting the classical truss
formed by tie-beam, rafters, and bracing struts[182] —is engraved
into the masonry gables of the porches of certain
Syrian churches of around 400 (figs. 128 and 129). In Italy
this roof type survived unchanged throughout the Middle
Ages. One of the finest extant examples is the magnificent
fourteenth-century roof of the church of San Miniato al
Monte in Florence.[183]

In conformity with this well-attested Roman and Early
Christian roof tradition, we have reconstructed the roof of
the Church of the Plan as a trussed timber roof with purlins
supporting an outer set of rafters (figs. 108-110). The proportions
of the Church suggest that these trusses were
placed at a distance of 20 feet from one another over the
center of each nave column, or at intervals of 10 feet, if we
assume intermediate trusses over the apex of each arcade
midway between the columns. Our roof pitch is of course
purely conjectural. Since the Church of the Plan lies
stylistically midway between the Early Christian and the
Romanesque, we have constructed it at an angle of 45
degrees—a pitch considerably more obtuse than that of the
average Early Christian roof, yet substantially more acute
than the average roof of the transalpine churches of the
tenth and eleventh centuries.

ROOF COVERING

The customary material used for covering the roofs of
Carolingian churches was tile or lead. The distinction is
not always clear, as the term tegula (classical Latin for
"ceramic tile") is used for both. However, it is probably
safe to assume that when tegula is used without the qualifying
adjective plumbea, it stands for tile.

When Benedict of Aniane founded his first monastery at
the banks of the stream of that name, he covered the
building "not with red-gleaming tiles, but with thatch"
(non tegulis rubentibus, sed stramine).[184] Conversely, when he
rebuilt the monastery in 772, "he covered the houses not
with thatch, but with tiles" (non iam stramine domos, sed

[ILLUSTRATION]

123. PLAN OF ST. GALL

CRYPT OF THE CHURCH

AUTHORS' INTERPRETATION

Whatever the precise shape of the space designated
CONFESSIO it obviously could not have exceeded an area
confined to the north and south by masonry of the
Presbytery walls and to the west and east by walls separating
CONFESSIO from crossing and from the transverse arm of the
corridor crypt. It is also clear that the Crypt's two
longitudinal arms would have come to lie outside the masonry
of the Presbytery walls. To clear these walls they would
each, in construction, be moved outward by 2½ feet; but the
builder could have easily complied with this need, since the
Crypt arms were underground and the space invaded by their
outward displacement would not have diminished any
adjacent structure. The CONFESSIO surely must have been
covered with groin vaults because of the weight of the
superincumbent Presbytery floor with its high altar and
heavy loading from constant use.

In the plan shown to the right Ernest Born has subdivided the 40-foot
squares of crossing and Presbytery internally each into sixteen 10-foot
squares and the latter again (in the areas occupied by the crypt) each into
sixteen 2½-foot squares. Our reconstruction shows how easily and
convincingly the masonry of an actual building can be developed within the
framework of the grid that forms the conceptual basis of the Plan — masonry
and foundation solid enough to carry the load of the superincumbent walls
of the Church.

The CONFESSIO is here interpreted as an inner hall crypt of roughly 20 by
30 feet with a ceiling formed by six groin vaults each covering the surface
area of a 10-foot square (100 square feet).

In the interpretation illustrated here the gray tint indicates walls of the church above
in locations depicted on the original document, and the U-shaped crypt passage or
corridor is presumed to be covered with a barrel vault.

tegulis cooperuit).[185] From chapter 26 of the capitulary
issued by Charlemagne at the synod of Frankfurt in 794,
it appears that tile was then the customary cover for
church roofs.[186] But before the century had come to a close,
lead appears to have moved into the foreground. It was
with tegulis plumbeis that Charlemagne covered the Palace
Chapel at Aachen (consecrated in 805).[187] The same material
was used by Abbot Ansegis (807-833) to cover the church
of St. Peter's at St. Wandrille,[188] by Bishop Hincmar (845882)
to cover the roof of the cathedral of Reims,[189] and by
Einhard to cover the roof of his church of SS. Peter and
Marcellinus, at Seligenstadt (started in 827). The purchase
of lead for the latter and the difficulties encountered in
procuring it are discussed in an undated letter of Einhard's
written to an unidentified abbot:

II.2.2

THE CHURCH AS MODIFIED IN THE
LIGHT OF ITS CORRECTIVE TITLES

To reconstruct what the Church of the Plan would have
looked like had it been modified in the light of the corrective
titles is an intriguing historical task and has produced
a variety of different proposals. It is not surprising that no
agreement has ever been reached in this matter. The
attempt involves some delicate changes on which even
Carolingian architects might not easily have come to terms
with one another.

GEORG DEHIO (1887) & JOSEPH HECHT (1924)

One of the distinctive and historically most fascinating
features of the Church drawing is that it is constructed
according to a system of squares (fig. 61), exhibiting a
principle of spatial organization that became a guiding
feature in certain schools of the Romanesque, two centuries
later.[191] To reduce the Church to the requested length of
200 feet implies the abandonment of the square schematism;
anyone who attempts to redraw the Church using
the measurements listed in the explanatory titles has made
this distressing discovery. Not wishing to totally relinquish
this feature Georg Dehio, who belonged to a generation of
architectural historians profoundly interested in the problem
of modular geometricity in medieval architecture,
retained the squares in the transept and in the fore choir.
By diminishing the interstices of the arcades of the nave
to the stipulated twelve feet, he then arrived at the compromise
length of 218 feet (fig. 130).[192] Joseph Hecht, pursuing
similar lines of thought, arrived at a length of 224
feet.[193]

[ILLUSTRATION]

124. PARIS. ST. GERMAIN-DES-PRÈS

[after Deneux, 1927, 50, fig. 70]

[ILLUSTRATION]

125. PARIS. ST. PIERRE DE MONTMARTRE

[after Deneux, 1927, 50, fig. 71]

Two typical examples of the SPARRENDACH, a relatively steep-pitched
roof with supporting frames of narrowly spaced rafters in continuous
sequence, with light scantling, and braced internally but without purlins
or ridge beams.

[ILLUSTRATION]

126. ROME. ROOF OF OLD ST. PETER'S RECORDED IN 1694 IN
CARLO FONTANA'S TEMPLUM VIATICANUM ET IPSIUS ORIGO. Detail of engraving same size as original

[after FONTANA, 1694, 99]

In publishing this design of what he refers to as "the trusses which sustained the
roof over the nave of Old St. Peter's" (LE INCAUALLATURE, CHE SOSTUEUANO LI
TETTI DELLA NAUE MAGGIORE . . . DEL ANTICA BASILICA VATICANA) Carlo Fontana
(1634-1714), disciple and collaborator of Lorenzo Bernini and architect in charge
of the Pontifical Office of Architects and Engineers, informs his readers that his
engraving was made after an "accurate drawing" (UN GIUSTO DISEGNO) tendered
him by an "informed person" (UNA PERSONA DILETTEUOLE); and that it was
because of the extraordinary constructional "sophistication" (INTELLIGENZA) as
well as the soundness of the timbers employed in these trusses that the roof of the
Constantinian basilica survived intact for so many centuries—to the extent that
when finally taken down, it was found to be in such good condition that its timbers
could be reassembled to sustain the roof of the Palazzo Farnese.

If timbers from the roof of Old St. Peter's were re-used in the Palazzo Farnese
(1546-1589) they must have come from the western half of the nave dismantled
by Bramante (1502) to make room for the construction of New St. Peter's. The
eastern half of the nave (closed off from the construction site by a provisional wall
under Paul III, 1534-1549) was demolished only in 1606 to make room for Carlo
Maderna's westward elongation of New St. Peter's. The roof timbers of this
portion were also re-used, this time for the Palazzo Borghese (1605-1621).

The names of the component members of the truss shown in Fontana's engraving
are enumerated on two scrolls which form part of the drawing. On these the tie
beams are referred to as CORDE MAGGIORI (B), the collar beams as CORDE
MINORI (C), the rafters as PARADOSSI (D), the center post suspended from the
apex of the truss as traue pendente adVso di monaco (E).

During the 12th to 13th centuries of its existence, the roof of the Constantinian
basilica of Old St. Peter's was, not surprisingly, in need of numerous repairs. A
complete account of them, including what in the sources is referred to as a "renovation"
by Pope Benedict XII (fecit fieri de novo tecta huius Basilicae sub anno
1341) is given by Michele Cerrati in Tiberii Alpharini, "De Basilica Vaticana
Antiquissima et Nova Structura" (STUDI E TESTI vol. 26 Rome, 1914, 13 note 2;
brought to my attention by my colleague Loren Partridge). There is no compelling
reason to presume that Benedict's renovation involved any basic changes in the
roof's design.

Fontana's rendering of the trusses of Old St. Peter's is in complete accord with
that which Vitruvius recommends for broad spans, except that all of the principal
members of the truss are doubled, and that the tie beams are fashioned in two
pieces, joined midway by an overlapping scarf joint. Owing to the extraordinary
width of the nave of Old St. Peter's (23.6 3m.), two-piece tie beams were necessary
since it would have been hard to find trees of sufficient height to yield single timbers
to span the whole space. Doubling all of the principal members was an extremely
wise constructional feature—probably the primary contribution to the longevity
of the Constantinian trusses—which evolved from the strategic function made of
the TRAVE PENDENTE. The scheme is a laminative one; a kind of truss-sandwich
is formed in which the structural components are assembled and joined in a function
that yields, in effect, a "pair" of trusses, but which is really a single homogeneous
creation of remarkable simplicity and purity of concept—revealing a mastery of static
mechanics that transcends Vitruvius and commands admiration today. Yet the design
does not seem to have found general acceptance. On the contrary, a medieval carpentry
truss, when it is impressive, gains our attention rather by its quaintness, its
intricacy of joinery and the complexity of its members.

The construction is ingenious. Transmitting the entire roof load to the two outer ends
of the tie beams, the principal rafters D-D are in compression and thus act as
columns as well as beams. Column action augmented by the deflection of beam
action is resisted by the horizontal strut C-C (collar beam) which functions in
compression. These minor chords support the rafter pairs midway in their span, a
construction that reduces the effective length of the rafters to approximately one-fourth
the nave span. Strut C-C is supported at mid-point by the vertical member
E-E (MONACO) which concurrently serves as a tension member to prevent sag in
the great lower chords. The scarf joint of these tie beams, tabled, locked, and
girdled by iron bands, prevents them from separating in the horizontal plane. In
contemplating the brilliance and simplicity of the design, remember that the wall-to-wall
span was above 84 feet—reflecting a state of theory of mechanics and
knowledge of structure existing in the 4th century!

[ILLUSTRATION]

127. TWO BASIC ROMAN ROOF TYPES

[after Vitruvius, Fourth Book on Architecture; interpreted by Barbaro in his translation of 1556]

HANS REINHARDT (1937 and 1952)

Hans Reinhardt, who tends to under-evaluate the square
schematism of the Church of the Plan of St. Gall,[194]
attempted to resolve these discrepancies by developing a
drawing in which the Church was shown reduced to 200
feet. But to attain this goal he found himself compelled to
reduce the fore choir and the space of the crypt beneath it
to one-fourth of their original dimensions, and thus he
arrived at a modified plan which appears to retain no spiritual
kinship to the original concept of the drawing (fig.
131).[195]

Reinhardt contracts the Church most severely where
contraction hurts most: in the all-important area around
the high altar and the tomb of St. Gall, where the entire
body of the monks assembled daily for a total of four hours
or more, in common chant and the celebration of the divine
services. He placed the high altar against the very edge of
the raised choir, where it drops vertically down to the floor
level of the transept leaving no space for the officiating
priest and his attendants (fig. 132). A step on the eastern
side of the altar suggests that Reinhardt imagines the priest
to stand behind the altar facing west. This not only is
incompatible with what is known to have been a general
custom in Carolingian liturgy,[196] but also in open conflict
with fourteen other altars in the Church of the Plan (figs.
84, 93 and 99). Their layout leaves no doubt that the
officiating priest stood west of the altar, facing east; the

[ILLUSTRATION]

128. SYRIA, BATUTA CHAPEL. PORCH, SOUTH SIDE

[courtesy Princeton University Archaeological Expedition to Syria]

location of the altar barriers and the position of the crosses
leaves no doubt on this score.

One feels equally puzzled about Reinhardt's modification
of the crypt. The drafter of the Plan provided the
monastery with two crypts with different but complementary
functions. One is an outer corridor crypt in the
shape of a crank, which takes the pilgrims and the other
secular visitors to the tomb of St. Gall. The other is an
inner crypt which lies beneath the high altar and is reached
from the crossing through a passage marked accessus ad
confessionem, between the two flights of steps that lead up
to the fore choir (fig. 99). Being accessible from an area

[ILLUSTRATION]

130. PLAN OF ST. GALL. CHURCH

[after Dehio, 1887, pl. 42 and fig. 2]

Dehio reconciles the conflict between the "corrective" titles of the plan
of the Church and the manner in which it is drawn, by reducing the
arcade spans to 12 feet. Leaving Transept and Presbytery untouched,
he retains the full measure of space (and incidentally its square
schematism in the liturgically most vital part of the Church, where
monks assembled daily for no less than four hours of religious services.
This solution is acceptable—even perfect—if one excludes the western
apse, as Dehio seems to have done, from the 200-foot length prescribed
for the Church. Dehio's church measures 218 feet from apex to apex of
its apses.

[ILLUSTRATION]

131. PLAN OF ST. GALL. CHURCH

[after Reinhardt, 1952, 20]

Reinhardt proceeded by assuming that the 200-foot prescribed length
of the Church must be understood to include both apses. He adopted
Dehio's solution for the nave of the Church and accomplished a further
reduction of the overall length to exactly 200 feet by eliminating the fore
choir, moving the high altar into the apse, dispensing with the altar of
St. Paul, placing the tomb of St. Gall beneath the altar, and the high
altar itself, into a position where it had to be serviced from the east
rather than the west as was customary in this period.

[ILLUSTRATION]

129. SYRIA. BRAD CONVENT. PEDIMENT OF PORCH

[after Butler, 1929, 199, fig. 201]

Had Forsyth not discovered the 6th-century roof of St. Catherine's on Mt. Sinai, Brad and Batuta (fig. 128) would be sole evidence for
reconstructing the design of timbered roofs in Early Christian Syria. St. Catherine's roof is still functioning, in perfect condition. See The
Monastery of St. Catherine at Mt. Sinai, 1973.

reserved for the exclusive use of the monks, this can only
have been a hall crypt providing the monks with prayer
space around the tomb of St. Gall.[197] Reinhardt eliminates
this confessio altogether and thus creates a spatial vacuum
in one of the most spiritually vital spots of the Church.

From a liturgical and functional point of view the
removal of the fore choir is fatal. Moreover, it is devastating
in its effect on the subsidiary spaces of the Sacristy and the
Scriptorium, which are built against the fore choir and, like
the latter, each cover a surface area of 40 × 40 feet. What
does Reinhardt propose to do with them? To reduce them
proportionately would render them unusable;[198] to retain
them as originally planned would amount to an aesthetic
degradation of the apse which seems incompatible with its
liturgical and architectural function.

Reinhardt's proposal also seems unsuitable in general
historical terms. The interposition of a separate spatial unit
between apse and transept is one of the new and original
features of Carolingian architecture. It appeared in
Neustadt-on-the-Main shortly after 768-769 (figs. 116, 133);
in the abbey church of St. Riquier (Centula) between 790799
(fig. 135); in the church of Vreden around 800 (fig. 136);
in the cathedral of St. Mary and St. Peter of Cologne, prior
to the death of its founder, Archbishop Hildebold, d. 819
(fig. 139); in St. Mary at Mittelzell on Reichenau, as rebuilt
by Abbot Haito between 806 and 816 (fig. 134); and in the
abbey church of Hersfeld, if Groszmann's reconstruction is
correct, between 831 and 851.[199] The primary motivation
for this new spatial entity was, as Thümmler has correctly
pointed out, the desire to isolate and strengthen the importance
of the high altar, at which the choral services were
held, and to provide more space for the officiating clergy.[200]
The increasing dimensions of the crypt, and the latter's
division into an outer corridor crypt for the pilgrims and an
inner confessionary for the monks, is directly related to this
development. Both of these innovations were responses to
pressing liturgical needs.

ARGUMENTS IN FAVOR OF
DEHIO'S INTERPRETATION

It is easy to understand why Dehio was reluctant to
undertake any changes in the eastern parts of the Church
and took the step, for which he was subsequently so
severely criticized, of making the Church a little larger (218
feet) than the stipulated 200 feet. However, there remains
the question whether Dehio is really guilty of such a compromise.
His reconstruction may in fact be based upon a
more accurate interpretation of the title which prescribes
the reduction. Dehio's critics interpret the propositional
phrase AB ORIENTE AD OCCIDENTē to mean "From the
apex of the eastern apse to the apex of the western apse."
There is no assurance whatsoever that this is in fact what
the title meant to convey. The first five letters of the phrase,
AB ORI, are inscribed into the eastern apse, which means
that this apse was a component part of the designated
length. But the inscription does not run into the round of
the western apse; it stops in the westernmost bay of the
nave with the numeral .cc. Literally interpreted this would
mean that the western apse was not meant to be included
in the designated length of 200 feet. If it was not, then
Dehio's reconstruction (fig. 130) would run only 8 feet

[ILLUSTRATION]

132. PLAN OF ST. GALL

CRYPT & ALTAR SPACE, Reinhardt's Interpretation

[after Reinhardt, 1952, 20]

Eliminating the fore choir and moving the high altar into the apse
would have reduced space occupied by monks during divine services to
less than half that foreseen in the Plan. In addition to incongruities
described in fig. 131, this would have led to congestion of disastrous
proportions in this most heavily used part of the Church.

beyond the stipulated length (nine arcades of a span of
12 feet = 108 feet; crossing unit = 40 feet; fore choir =
40 feet; apse = 20 feet. Total = 208 feet)—close enough
to be acceptable; and acceptable without any shadow of
doubt, if the radius of the eastern apse were shortened from
20 feet to 12 feet.[201]

It is imperative, in this context, to draw attention to the
fact (entirely disregarded in previous discussions of this
subject) that the reconstruction proposed by Georg Dehio
appears to conform, indeed, with the manner in which
Abbot Gozbert and his builders interpreted the Plan when
they rebuilt the church in 830-836, as August Hardegger
inferred from the measured architectural drawings made of
the church by Pater Gabriel Hecht, in 1725/26, when
much of the Carolingian fabric of the church was still
identifiable.[202]

WOLFGANG SCHÖNE (1960)

By far the most radical attempt to reconcile the drawing
of the church of the Plan of St. Gall with that of its corrective
explanatory titles was that which Wolfgang Schöne
published in 1960.[203] Schöne not only shortened the church
to the desired 200 feet, but applied the same reduction to
all the other buildings of the Plan. However, in advancing
this theory he either overlooked or disregarded the fact that
the same proposition had already been discussed and convincingly

rejected twenty-two years earlier by Fritz Viktor
Arens, who pointed out that if one were to redraw the Plan
according to the measurements given for the length of the
Church (i.e., 200 feet), the Cloister and all of the service
structures of the Plan would be too small to perform their
designated functions.[204]

My own analysis of the scale used in designing the Plan
confirmed this view. Were the Plan redrawn in this manner
not only would the monks, including the abbot and the
visiting noblemen (i.e., Monks' Dormitory, Abbot's House,
and House for Distinguished Guests) no longer fit into
their beds, but the Refectory of the Monks would be too
small to seat the full contingent of monks, the horses would
lack the required floor space to stand in their stables, and
the workmen could not carry out their respective crafts and
labors.[205]

The most decisive counter argument, however, to
Schöne's interpretation of the Plan is to be found in a
statement made by a man who lived at the time when the
Plan was drawn. In his commentary on the Rule of St.
Benedict, written around 845 in the monastery of Civate,
Hildemar, a monk from Corbie, declared that in his days
"It was generally held that the cloister should be 100 feet
square and no less because that would make it too small."[206]

Schöne reduces it to a little less than 67 × 67 feet. It is
historically incongruous to assume that a scheme of paradigmatic

[ILLUSTRATION]

134. REICHENAU-MITTELZELL

HAITO'S CHURCH (CONSECRATED 816)

[after Reisser, 1960, fig. 285]

Built by the "author" of the Plan of St. Gall, between 806-817 (but
the nave perhaps not before 811), this church continues the tradition of
St. Riquier with its extended altar space and tower-surmounted
crossing. (Also see figs. 117 and 171 for comment on its alternating
supports, and its underlying modular concepts.)

significance should propose a cloister whose dimensions
fall by one-third below what at the time was
considered to be the lowest suitable limit.

ADOLF REINLE (1963-64)

The reconstruction of Adolf Reinle (fig. 137), because of
his radically different interpretation of the axial explanatory
title of the Church, occupies a position entirely apart from
those of any of the previous students of the Plan. Translating
the axial title of the Church "AB ORIENTE AD OCCIDENTE[M]
PED .CC." in the sense of "THIS PLAN IS DRAWN
AT THE SCALE OF 1:200," he felt himself under no compulsion
to reduce the Church to a length of 200 feet, as so
many others had tried to do. He rather endows it with its
full length of 300 feet. However, in adjustment to the title
which designates the intercolumnar interstices of the
arcades of the nave to be 12 feet, Reinle consequently
increased the number of arcades from nine to fifteen.
Reinle draws support for this interpretation from the
observation that arcades of a span of 20 feet (6.8 m.) are
not known to have existed in any of the large colonnaded
basilicas of the first millennium.[207] This being as it is, he
concludes "we must assume that the columnar order of the
Church of the Plan of St. Gall is rendered in a schematic
manner in logical explication of the system of squares which
controls the Plan of the Church."[208] He categorically rejects

[ILLUSTRATION]

136. VREDEN. PLAN

CHURCH OF SS FELICISSIMUS, AGAPITUS, & FELIGITAS

[after Thummler, 1953, 306]

Vreden is a three-aisled cruciform basilica with westwork and
extended choir, plus an annular crypt, built ca. 800 (W. Winkelmann,
1953) or ca. 839 (H. Claussen). See Claussen-Winkelmann,
"Archäologische Untersuchungen unter der Pfarrkirche zu Vreden
(Vorbericht)," Westfalen XXXI, 1953, 304ff.

[ILLUSTRATION]

137. PLAN OF ST. GALL. CHURCH

REINLE'S INTERPRETATION OF THE CHURCH OF THE PLAN AS MODIFIED
BY ITS CORRECTIVE TITLES

[after Reinle, 1962/3, 100]

SCALE 1/64 INCH = ONE FOOT [1:768]

any connection of this geometricity of the Plan of the
Church with the square schematism of the Romanesque.[209]

This is too simple a way, in my opinion, to explain a
complex historical phenomenon. Columnar interstices of
20 feet, it is true, are not attested for the period in which
the Plan was drawn. But this does not mean that such a
solution was not within the grasp of an imaginative
Carolingian architect. Our analysis of the scale and
construction method used in designing the Plan[210] has
shown that the author of this scheme proceeded with an
acute awareness of the dimensional realities involved in
whatever he drew. It is inconceivable, in my opinion, that
an architect whose punctilious observance of spatial needs
is reflected in the dimensioning of even the smallest detail
throughout the entire width and length of the Plan, should
have reverted to a radically different method of rendering
when he drew the Church of the Monastery and should
have spaced the columns at a distance of 20 feet when in
fact he meant them to be placed at intervals of 12 feet. A
consistent interpretation of the dimensional layout of the
Plan permits no other conclusion than that the draftsman
meant what he drew. Nor is there evidence to presume
that the instruction to make the columnar interstices 12 feet
wide stemmed from fears that arcades spanning 20 feet
would be a constructional hazard. Our reconstruction (figs.
107-110) demonstrates this point clearly enough. The
shortening of the arcade spans was simply an inevitable
consequence of the reduction of the overall length of the
Church from 300 to 200 feet. It dealt a deadly blow to the
square schematism as applied to the nave of the Church—
one of the draftsman's favorite and most original ideas—
but it was the most reasonable way out of the dilemma
caused by the overall reduction of the length of the Church.
By reducing the spatial depth of each bay, the corrective
title permitted the retention of the original number of altar
stations, while at the same time it safeguarded the original
concept in those parts of the Church where a reduction
would have impaired the primary function of the sanctuary,
the conduct of the sacred services in transept and choir.

[ILLUSTRATION]

PLAN OF ST. GALL

137.X CENTULA
(ST. RIQUIER)

see also page 185 and figs. 135, 168, and 196

141. ROME. OLD ST. PETER'S

[after Jongkees, 1966, 34, Pl. I and II]

The church's inner length was 112m (368′), its height 84m (276′), and its width
58m (190′). Probably begun after 324 and finished by Constantine's death in 377,
its precise dates are unknown.

138. FULDA

[after Groszmann, 1962, 351, fig. 5]

Ratger's church of 802-817. Precise measurements unknown

139. COLOGNE

Hildebold's church of SS Peter and Mary

[after Weyres, 1966, 408, fig. 10]

140.