“An annotated memoir of the life and work of James Parks Morton for his family, friends and colleagues.”
-Pamela Morton and Polly Barton
The multifaceted Dean Morton takes us on an inspirational journey recounting his extraordinary life and many causes. The memoir is available for download HERE. And yes…there is a chapter on the stoneyard.
Of the many passages and stories to be enjoyed is the one where he saves the great Guastavino Dome. A committee had deemed the dome unsafe after mortar began falling to the floor of the Crossing. Their vote to tear down the dome and build a tower was imminent. Dean Morton, very early in his position, asked Bishop Moore to stall the decision. He had an engineer friend in Chicago who he called in to evaluate the situation. The engineer concluded that the problem was the difference in contraction and expansion between dissimilar materials – the clay tiles in the dome and the granite columns and arches. The solution was simple insulation for the roof of the dome and netting below for extra insurance. The 3 million dollars saved could then go to the future Stoneyard Institute.
Gazing at the Dome
“I looked up at the dome again. Amazing. I thought back in 1909, it was supposed to be temporary, and it had stood all this time. I marveled at the craftsmanship of Guastavino tile. It had been laid without scaffold or support. The architect in me rebelled at the idea of tearing it down.
But something else began to happen in me as well. Later I would learn that it happened to many of the men and women who became my colleagues. None of us is really able to describe the experience. It isn’t exactly awe, and it isn’t that the place talked to any of us. Maybe it was that the place seemed charged with an energy that was calling out to be used before it was lost for good.
Whatever it was, I knew after a few minutes gazing, that I would never permit that dome to be torn down. Furthermore, I vowed to start building the Cathedral again and to fill it with activity, life, and light. White elephant, nothing. We would use its vast scale to move even a city as big as New York to action, healing and communion.”
– James Parks Morton, 1972, from the book, With Companions for the Journey
Before the memoir, I wished I had known him. After the memoir, I regret I had not.
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A special thanks to Pamela Morton and Polly Barton making the memoir accessible.
Drawing for flat arch showing relieving arch above and secret key joint
The flat arch on the north elevation (roof side) of the southwest tower is in three pieces. It spans an opening of eight feet. The visible joints of the keystone are perpendicular thus giving a gravity defying impression, but in fact concealing arch joints. A brick relieving arch was built in the hearting above to discharge some of the load above away from the opening.
secret key joint for flat arch
Details from Practical Masonry, by William R. Purchase
“I remember us having quite a lot of difficulty with the installation as the pieces were quite large and unwieldly and difficult to position on the falsework. I think Jim Bambridge had long awaited a chance to use this type of arch.”
– Steve Boyle, Master Mason
The title block for the unique flat arch for the tower drawing above, rendered March 29, 1980, by J. R. Bambridge, Master Builder.
Stephen Boyle was raised in Yorkshire, England. He began working with stone at age 18 at the Yorkminster Cathedral stoneyard. After his three year apprenticeship he started on restoration work at Salisbury Cathedral. Both cathedrals dated from the 12th century. Salibury Cathedral is pure Gothic throughout. James Bambridge hired him to begin the setting of stone on the Southwest Tower in 1981.
Special thanks to Steve Boyle for all the information and images in this post.
They climbed the sketchy ladders towards God, with winch and pulley hoisted hewn rock into heaven, inhabited the sky with hammers,
defied gravity, deified stone, and came down to their suppers, and small beer,
Stoneworkers at Cathedral. – Irma and Paul Milstein Division, The New York Public Library.
every night slept, lay with their smelly wives, quarreled and cuffed the children, lied, spat, sang, were happy, or unhappy, and every day took to the ladders again, impeded the rights of way of another summer’s swallows,
grew greyer, shakier, became less inclined to fix a neighbour’s roof of a fine evening,
Irma and Paul Milstein Division, The New York Public Library.
saw naves sprout arches, clerestories soar, cursed the loud fancy glaziers for their luck, somehow escaped the plague, got rheumatism, decided it was time to give it up,
to leave the spire to others, stood in the crowd, well back from the vestments at the consecration,
Cornerstone ceremony for the Nave. Irma and Paul Milstein Division, The New York Public Library.
envied the fat bishop his warm boots, cocked a squint eye aloft, and said,
“I bloody did that.”
Wurts Bros. 1931. – Museum of the City of New York
The Poet
John Ormond (1923-1990) was a Welsh poet and film-maker, born in Britain, at Dunvant, near Swansea. His view of art was one informed by his working-class background, the son of a skilled shoemaker. “Cathedral Builders” is not an exaltation of these grand consecrated structures, rather it is a celebration of the ordinary lives of the uncelebrated workers who commit to the actual work of building cathedrals. Ormond emphasizes the fact that great accomplishments are often the result of the collaborative effort of ordinary people.
National Library of Wales
Swansea University
Museum of the City of New York
Irma and Paul Milstein Division of United States History and Genealogy, The New York Public Library
Setting the keystone on the arch. - Irma and Paul Milstein Division of United States History, Local History and Genealogy, The New York Public Library. (1899).
The great eastern stone arch looms above Morningside Heights at the close of the nineteenth century. It was the signature image of the cathedral construction in those days and the culmination of years of excavation and foundation building. The keystone was only half an inch out of position laterally and 3/4 of an inch vertically when the arch completed. Before any of that began however, it is important to understand the significance of the Romanesque arch in the design by Heins and La Farge.
In their design, the number one key feature was a large crossing. The crossing is the intersection of the transepts and the nave. They explain the aim of this crossing plan as follows: “so that the greatest possible number” of people “may be properly so placed as to see and hear.” To accomplish this, four rounded or Romanesque arches create a 96 foot square at the crossing. The typical Gothic crossing using pointed arches is about 47 feet.
Support for the Lantern
Additionally, the design called for a massive 16-sided lantern/tower above the crossing, supported by the four Romanesque arches. The place of hearing was also to be the greatest source of light in the cathedral.
Stone Arch and Lantern section through choirFloor Plan of Heins & La Large Design
The ground floor plan shows four very large square piers standing at the corners of the crossing. Next to each of these and set at right angles with them, are two smaller piers – eight in all. Between the larger piers spring the four great arches which bound the crossing and carry the central tower. From the outer piers spring buttress arches meeting the great arches at about their point of springing. Both piers and arches are of the most solid granite blocks because of the enormous weight they have to bear. The load upon the base of each of the four corner piers, according to the architect, will be about 35 million pounds.
Architect Grant LaFarge had the following to say regarding the recent use of concrete and steel construction. “As to structure, this quality can be insured only by the use of imperishable materials in visibly massive construction. Any device as the modern steel frame, commercial and of unknown duration, is instantly to be dismissed; so, too the indiscriminate use of the hasty and half understood concrete, treacherous, but dear to the engineer. A building of masonry, with true vaulting, is the only possible thing.” Stone on stone construction was the order of the day.
“A building of masonry, with true vaulting, is the only thing.”
– C. Grant La Farge
Excavation, Foundations, and Piers
The soil and rock lacked stability after the siting and the laying of the cornerstone in 1892. They built St. Luke’s Hospital across the street on bedrock at grade. At the Cathedral, excavation had to go as deep as 72 feet in places, through all rock of poor quality to underlying solid strata no less than 20 feet in thickness.
Excavation for the Cathedral. – Irma and Paul Milstein Division of United States History, Local History and Genealogy, The New York Public Library. (1895)
Once the excavation was down to bedrock, dewatering took place and the workers laid footings of Portland cement. The massive granite blocks for the foundation of the eastern stone arch began to move in. Then the piers began to rise, 38 square feet at the base.
Irma and Paul Milstein Division od United States History, Local History and Genealogy, The New York Public Library.
The Eastern Stone Arch and Buttresses
The springing line at each of the great arches will be 16 feet above the top of the 79 foot pier and its span will be 114 feet from tip to tip of the voussoirs. The clear span is 96 feet. The voussoirs are granite and cut to template. The rise was 55 feet. They weighed between 3 and 6 tons each and laid in mortar of Portland cement.
Great Eastern Arch Voussoirs
Buttress VoussoirsIrma and Paul Milstein Division of United States History, Local History and Genealogy, The New York Public Library. (1899)
Arch construction depends essentially on the wedge. These wedge shaped blocks are called voussoirs. Each voussoir must be precisely cut so that it presses firmly against the surface of neighboring blocks and conducts loads uniformly. The central voussoir is called the keystone. The point from which the arch rises from its vertical supports is known as the spring, or springing line.
After the deaths of Bishop Potter (1908) and the architect George Heins (1907), the trustees did not renewthecontract for architect La Farge (1911). The work on thetransepts was not completednor the great lantern/tower. The Crossing, Choir, Chancel and Apsidal Chapels were complete. The Crypt hosted services. The selection of a new architect was in the works. The love affair with the unique mix of Byzantine, Romanesque and Gothicgreatly diminished. The crossing would remain the dimmest place in the cathedral.
Scribners Magazine, V. 41, 1907
The Churchman, May 30, 1891, Competitive Design, Heins and La Farge
Scientific American, Building Edition, October 1900
My connection to the stoneyard began in the late 1980’s when John Barton, AIA, the son-in-law of the Dean of the Cathedral, James Parks Morton, invited me to see the stone working program. I was offered a place to stay in the Bishop’s guest quarters and visited the stone shed attached to the cathedral several times.
John introduced me to the cutters and carvers. I remember no names, only the intensity and dedication that showed in the faces. It was likely that I met Jose Tapia, Tim Smith and Eddie P. They were working…cutting and carving some of the thousands of stones necessary to complete the Cathedral’s towers. I wished I was one of them, but it was not to be, living in New Mexico with a stone masonry business that needed me and I needed it. However, my connection to the stoneyard has continued since that tour.
I would have traded places with any one of them.
The light filtering down from the skylights, the fine dust of limestone in the air and the tap, tap, tap, of hammer on chisel was mesmerizing. The vibe was intoxicating, especially to me who had already spent the last 13 years working with stone. I would have traded places with any of those carvers but I had a home and business to take care of. Upon leaving the Cathedral I had a feeling that we would meet again in the future. That experience had a profound affect on me and because of it I met many people who worked on the cathedral, most notably Joseph Kincannon, Nick FairPlay, and John Barton. All of them have added to my life and work.
And Now…
So, here it is 2020, the year of the coronaviris pandemic. Roger Murphy, friend and stone carving enthusiast, and I decided that the stone work of the Cathedral St. John the Divine needed to be be written about. The stonework at the Cathedral had for the most part been neglected for a number of reasons. One of those reasons may have been the attention given to the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. It was being built and carved around the same time and received very much attention. Thus the divinestone.org blog was created.
My stoneyard connection was again activated when I was contacted by a friend of mine who was moving from New Mexico and was clearing out her collection of books. She asked me if I would be interested in claiming a few. It was in her bookcase that I found John Barton’s masters thesis, “The Divine Spirit of Architecture”. Written at Yale University, it covers 12 sacred structures and of course St. John the Divine was one of them. I let John know of my discovery and asked if it was ok to reprint some of it.
The hands of St. John the Divine reach far and wide. More about those hands in an upcoming post.
