It is the same with the exterior. The one great roof running over the three aisles, and covering all up like an extinguisher, ought to be abominable, but it gives a character to the whole that one would be sorry to miss, and is not out of harmony with the exceptional character of the whole building. The great glory of this church consists in its two spires, one of which is finished, the other only carried up to about one-third of its intended height. Their position is unfortunate, as they are placed where the transepts should be, so that they neither form a façade nor dignify the sanctuary; they occupy, in fact, the position of the lateral entrances which the Germans were so fond of, and are the principal portals of the building. In itself, however, the finished spire is the richest, and, excepting that at Freiburg, perhaps the most beautiful of all those in Germany. Its total height, exclusive of the eagle, is 441 ft., rising from a base about 64 ft. square, gradually sloping from the ground to the summit, where it forms a cone of the unprecedently small angle of little more than 9 degrees. The transition from the square base to an octagonal cone is so gradual and so concealed by ornament, that it is difficult to say where the tower ends and the spire begins. This gives a confusion and weakness to the design by no means pleasing. Indeed the whole may be taken as an exemplification of all the German principles of design carried to excess, rather than as a perfect example of what such an object should be. It deserves to be remarked that there is no open work in the spire, though, from its own tenuity and the richness of the tower, there is no example where it would have been less objectionable.
Had the architects of Eastern Germany continued to practise the style a little longer before the introduction of the Renaissance art, it is probable they would have gone further from the French forms than they did even in St. Stephen’s. Among the novelties they did employ, one of the most remarkable was the invention of flat-roofed choirs. The plan of the Franciscan church at Salzburg (Woodcut No. 753) will explain what is meant by this.[77] The nave of the church is a very beautiful example of the round-arched style, so pure and elegant in its details as to betray its proximity to Italy, and without a trace of pointed architecture, though dating as late as 1230-1260. In the year 1470 it was determined to rebuild the choir. In France this would have been effected by an extended range of chapels round a chevet; in England by several bays added to the length. In Germany they did better: they placed five slender piers on the floor: these, though 70 ft. in height, are less than 4 ft. in diameter, yet they appear sufficient for the task they have to perform, while their slenderness prevents them from interrupting the view in any direction. From these rose a vault, extending on the same level from wall to wall with a tree-like growth, from each of these pillars—without any exertion or constructive difficulty; the choir thus forms a hall 66 ft. wide by 160 in length, exclusive of the side-chapels which surround it in two storeys. A dome in that position might have been more sublime; but passing through the confined vestibule of the nave the expansion into the light and airy choir produces one of the most magical effects to be found in any church in Europe. The details of the vault, as is only too usual at that age, are not constructively correct; but if this design had been carried out with English fan-tracery nothing could well be more beautiful. In plan and dimensions this choir very nearly resembles Henry VII.’s Chapel at Westminster; but in design the German surpasses the English example to a greater extent than it falls short of it in beauty of detail.