The ecclesiastical architecture of Scotland from the earliest Christian times to the seventeenth century; vol. 1/3 — Context and Discussion

Reading the Fabric: Evidence of Alteration

At St. Serf’s, Dunning, the authors note that the building “has been greatly altered at various times.” They identify specific changes: an aisle added on the north side, the ancient north doorway disfigured by an outside staircase built across it. Yet they also isolate surviving original features: the west gable, much of the north wall, the east wall, ancient corbels at the north parapet, and the raggle of the original roof against the east side of the tower. This methodical separation of periods is typical of the book’s approach.

The authors rely on local informants: Mr. Thomson reported that bases of pillars were found in situ during alterations about twenty-five years earlier, indicating the former presence of a chancel. Such details show how the work combines on-site observation with oral testimony.

The Chancel Arch as a Diagnostic Feature

Cruggleton Church provides a case study in how a single architectural element can anchor a building’s history. The chancel arch, 8 feet wide, was the best-preserved feature. The authors describe its early Norman style: three orders on the nave side, nook shafts built in courses with cushion caps, plain inner jambs, and a square-edged arch on the chancel side springing from a very plain impost. The description is precise enough to allow visual reconstruction.

The church’s plan is a simple oblong nave and chancel, dimensions given in feet. The authors note that side walls were considerably damaged but enough remained to trace the outline. They quote Mr. Muir’s observation that dressed stones had been torn from corners and the chancel arch, indicating the vulnerability of ashlar to later removal.

Restoration and the Recovery of Original Design

The restoration of Cruggleton Church by the Marquis of Bute, under Mr. Galloway’s supervision, is described with attention to method. The authors quote Galloway’s account of how he deduced the original south doorway: a few stones of the internal sconsions remained in situ, giving position and size; part of the paving and rubble steps survived outside. The key discovery was a column base that had been lifted and laid on its side, disguised as an ordinary courser. Nearby, plain arch stones and a simple capital were found.

From these materials, the doorway was restored. The authors emphasize that great care was taken to restore every part “so far as precedent could be obtained.” This episode illustrates the detective work behind the volume’s descriptions, showing how fragmentary evidence can be pieced together to recover lost forms.

Readers should approach this volume as a working record, not a finished narrative. The authors present churches as palimpsests, with each alteration leaving traces. The detailed measurements, references to figures, and quotations from correspondents all serve to build a case from physical evidence. The book rewards those who read with a plan or photograph in hand, following the authors’ gaze from corbel to chancel arch.

Leafing through MacGibbon and Ross, I kept pausing at the chancel arches, wondering how much of that stone was original and how much was someone’s hopeful repair. It makes me think of Canterbury’s little St. Martin’s, where the fabric itself feels like a whispered conversation across centuries. That same patient puzzle of old and new lives there, too, in Bell's Cathedrals: The Church of St. Martin, Canterbury An Illustrated Account of its History and Fabric — Themes and Context, quiet and waiting for a careful eye.