James Ward's The Principles of Ornament, edited by George Aitchison for a new and enlarged edition in 1896, opens with a clear pedagogical purpose: to supply a systematic English textbook on ornament where none existed. Aitchison, as Examiner on the Principles of Ornament at the Science and Art Department, notes that previous resources required 'extensive reading and independent observation' beyond young students. The book's structure emerges from a syllabus Aitchison himself wrote, and his editorial hand is evident in the careful revision and addition of an appendix on the Orders of Architecture.
Natural Forms and Decorative Adaptation
Ward devotes considerable attention to the relationship between natural plant forms and their ornamental use. He advises students to make 'correct drawings of all kinds of plants, both in flower and fruit,' with attention to stem and leaf junctions. However, he sharply criticizes the practice of dissecting plants to find 'new forms,' calling such designs 'an anatomical preparation' that nature never intended. The book illustrates this tension with specific examples: the laurel suits upright or horizontal borders, the wild rose works for panels or paper-hangings, and trailing vines make good ceiling decorations, as used by Byzantine mosaic workers.
Ward's advice is material-specific: hare-bells and delicate ferns for muslins and lace; oak and pomegranate for wood and stone carving. He warns against a 'too rigid adherence' to these principles, but insists on respecting each plant's growth character.
Conventional Styles and Cultural Preferences
The book contrasts naturalistic ornament with conventional styles that are 'more purely conventional' yet still based on natural forms. Ward lists cultural favorites: the lotus and papyrus in Egyptian work, the peony in Chinese, the chrysanthemum in Japanese, and the pink and hyacinth in Persian decoration. Greek, Roman, Celtic, and Saracenic styles are described as 'more purely conventional' without much realism.
This cultural catalog serves to show how different civilizations abstracted plant beauties for architectural adornment. The editor's preface further notes that the Greeks 'seized on the exquisite beauties of flowers' and adapted them to stone, while the Romans did so with a different range of abilities. The book thus positions ornament as both a universal human impulse and a culturally specific practice.
The Acanthus and the Orders of Architecture
A significant portion of the excerpts discusses the acanthus ornament, noting that its exact botanical origin remains obscure, much like the Greek anthemion. Ward describes the 'well-known conventional acanthus and its varieties' without settling the debate. The editor's appendix adds remarks on the Orders of Architecture, with illustrations of classical examples, intended for 'carvers and modellers who have to execute enrichments on Architecture.'
This appendix extends the book's practical reach beyond design theory into architectural practice. The inclusion of the Orders—Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, etc.—grounds the principles of ornament in the built environment, showing how abstracted plant forms 'emphasize and adorn the rigid forms of Architecture.' The book thus bridges botanical study, artistic design, and architectural execution.
Readers approaching The Principles of Ornament should note its dual character: part textbook with explicit pedagogical advice, part edited compilation reflecting Aitchison's syllabus and revisions. The musical comparisons and views on Ogham, Runic, and symbolic ornament of various cultures are left as Ward originally wrote them, per the editor's note. The book rewards attention to its specific plant examples and material recommendations, which ground abstract principles in observable practice.
Flicking through Ward's careful notes on Saracenic ornament, I found myself drifting to the quiet stonework of Wimborne Minster, its Norman arches and their own patient rhythms. There's a kinship between studying a plant's growth and tracing a cathedral's carvings—both ask you to listen. It reminded me only gently of Bell's Cathedrals: Wimborne Minster and Christchurch Priory A Short History of Their Foundation and a Description of Their Buildings — Text and Context, a book with that same unhurried attention.