Stained Glass Tours in England
by Charles Hitchcock Sherrill · English · Gutenberg #34818 · 322,179 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Stained Glass Tours in England
Author: Charles Hitchcock Sherrill
Release date: January 2, 2011 [eBook #34818]
Most recently updated: January 7, 2021
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAINED GLASS TOURS IN ENGLAND ***
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STAINED GLASS
TOURS IN ENGLAND
BY CHARLES HITCHCOCK SHERRILL
WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS
LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD
NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY: MCMX
SECOND EDITION
Printed by BALLANTYNE &. CO. LIMITED
Tavistock Street, Covent Garden, London
STAINED GLASS TOURS IN
ENGLAND
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
STAINED GLASS TOURS
IN FRANCE. WITH
NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS.
[Illustration: KING'S COLLEGE CHAPEL, CAMBRIDGE]
TO
LEWIS F. DAY
FROM ONE
WHOM HE TAUGHT
TO LOVE
STAINED GLASS
FOREWORD
Although the purpose of this book is the quest of windows, it happens
that these very windows are so obligingly disposed throughout the length
and breadth of England, and light such different sorts of edifices, that
in the search of them we shall obtain a very comprehensive idea of
English architecture. Not only shall we visit many noble cathedrals
(Canterbury, York, Winchester, Wells, &c. &c.), and smaller religious
edifices (Fairford, St. Neot, Norbury, &c.), but we shall also see
secular buildings of many types. In this latter category will be
included both the great universities of Oxford and Cambridge, a civic
guildhall (Coventry), an ancient hostel for the aged (Guildford), and
one of the finest of the "stately homes of England" (Knole). Thus it
will be seen that our tours are more broadly catholic than their title
would indicate--indeed, we are tempted to promise that by the time the
pilgrim has completed them he will have obtained a well-rounded
impression not only of glass, but also of the history as well as the
ancient manners and customs of England. Unfortunately, no form of
illustration can hope to reproduce the combination of light and colour
which makes the beauty of stained glass; those selected for this book
are the best obtainable, but are chiefly useful in showing how the
windows are set. This is not a technical book, so scale-drawings would
be out of place.
CHARLES HITCHCOCK SHERRILL.
20 EAST 65TH STREET,
NEW YORK CITY.
_March 1, 1909._
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION _Page_ 1
TOURS 17
EARLY ENGLISH 21
EARLY ENGLISH TOUR 29
SALISBURY 30
CANTERBURY 36
LINCOLN 51
YORK 57
DECORATED 65
DECORATED TOUR 75
YORK 76
NORBURY 82
SHREWSBURY 85
LUDLOW 92
HEREFORD 96
TEWKESBURY 100
DEERHURST 104
BRISTOL 107
WELLS 114
EXETER 120
DORCHESTER 124
OXFORD 129
PERPENDICULAR 135
PERPENDICULAR TOUR 140
OXFORD 142
FAIRFORD 148
CIRENCESTER 154
GLOUCESTER 158
GREAT MALVERN 166
LITTLE MALVERN 172
ROSS 174
WARWICK 177
COVENTRY 181
YORK 185
SALISBURY 192
WINCHESTER 195
ST. NEOT 203
RENAISSANCE 209
RENAISSANCE TOURS 214
LONDON 216
CAMBRIDGE 223
LICHFIELD 230
GUILDFORD 236
GATTON 239
KNOLE 242
ITINERARIES 251
LIST OF TOWNS 253
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS
_To face
page_
Cambridge, King's College Chapel _Frontispiece_
General Map 18
Map of Early English Tour 30
Canterbury, "Becket's Crown" 36
Thirteenth century medallions; notice circular and other
forms enclosing the figures. The heavy iron bars needed
to support the great weight of lead are skilfully adjusted
to the design. The world-famous shrine stood in the centre
of this space. Tombof Black Prince in foreground, and above
it armour he wore at Crecy.
Lincoln, Rose Window 56
Tracery unusual in that it does not radiate from centre.
Quantity of greenish grisaille used emphasises leaf-like
design. Thirteenth century medallions in the tall lancets
below.
York Minster, "Five Sisters" 62
Softly toned grisaille, with delicate patterns in faint
colour. Of its type unsurpassed in the world. Note
difference between mellow strength of this glass and
thinness of modern glazing in upper tier of lancets.
Map of Decorated Tour 76
York Minster, Chapter-House 78
Note the grouping together in each embrasure of five narrow
lights below gracefully elaborated tracery openings. Later
on, in the Perpendicular period, these traceries lose their
individuality, become stiffly regular, and part of the window
below.
Tewkesbury Abbey, Choir 100
A rare example of rounded apse, generally replaced in England
by a square-ended chancel. Chief charm of these windows is
their rich colouring.
Wells, "Golden Window" 116
Notice graceful setting, permitting a glimpse through into
the Lady chapel beyond. The large Tree of Jesse, rising from
the loins of the patriarch, is portrayed in colours of almost
barbaric richness.
Exeter, East Window 122
Perpendicular stone frame, glazed chiefly with very typically
decorated figure-and-canopy glass preserved from the earlier
and smaller window. Below and beyond appears the Lady chapel.
Map of Perpendicular Tour 140
Oxford, New College Antechapel 144
Transition window, presented by William of Wykeham, Founder of
the College. Stone frames are already Perpendicular: note the
"pepper-box" tracery lights. The glazing, as usual, lags behind
the architecture, and, because of its strong colour and flat
drawing, is more Decorated than Perpendicular.
Gloucester, Choir 162
Great east window commemorative of knights who fought at Crecy.
Backgrounds of pink and soft blue. Tracery lights no longer
differentiated from window below, as during Decorated period.
Note elaborate masking of earlier walls by later Perpendicular
work.
Coventry, Guildhall 182
Splendid row of ancient English kings, and, below, a great
tapestry. In the centre of the window, and again on the
tapestry, appears Henry VI., who was a member of the guild.
Handsome example of mediaeval hall.
York Minster, East Window 188
Tremendous sheet of colour, 78 by 32 feet. Lower half of stone
frame built in a double plane, and carries a gallery across
face of the glass.
Winchester, Nave 200
The excellent effect produced by the Fifteenth Century
fragments with which this window is glazed proves that colour
is more important than design in glass. Note swerving to right
and left of two principal mullions, thus relieving a monotony
of upright lines.
Map of Renaissance Tours 214
London, St. George's, Hanover Square 220
A Renaissance Tree of Jesse from Belgium, readjusted to fit its
new embrasures. Figures unusually large for this subject. Fine
colours and drawing.
Lichfield, Lady Chapel 232
Excellent example of Renaissance colouring, freer from applied
paint than then customary. This glass was brought from Belgium.
Guildford, Bishop Abbott's Hospital 240
Charming and complete glazing of a small chapel. Renaissance
glass coloured by the process of enamelling, often
unsatisfactory because bits are apt to peel off.
STAINED GLASS TOURS
: : IN ENGLAND : :
INTRODUCTION
The errand of a window seems always to have been that of beauty,
although it has more than one way of performing that service. Sometimes
it seems to have chosen the inspiring manner of recalling ancient wars,
as would appear from the "Dreme" of Chaucer:
"And sooth to sayn, my chamber was
Full well depainted, and with glass
Were all the windows well y-glazed
Full clear, and not an hole y-crazed,
That to behold it was great joy:
For wholly all the story of Troy
Was in the glazing y-wrought thus,
Of Hector, and of King Priamus;
Of Achilles, and of King Laomedon,
And eke of Medea, and of Jason;
Of Paris, Helen, and of Lavine."
Sometimes the errand is that of beauty alone, so "mystic, wonderful," as
to make it seem that magic was invoked to yield so fair a result. In
his "Earthly Paradise" Morris voices this feeling:
"Folk say, a wizard to a northern king
At Christmastide such wondrous things did show,
That through one window men beheld the spring,
And through another saw the summer glow,
And through a third the fruited vines a-row,
While still, unheard, but in its wonted way,
Piped the drear wind of that December day."
Again, the errand of the window may have been not so much that of a
story-teller, nor of a beautiful object to regale one's eyes withal, but
rather to tint and temper the illumination of some holy place like that
described in the "Lay of the Last Minstrel" (Canto XI.):
"The silver light, so pale and faint,
Show'd many a prophet and many a saint,
Whose image on the glass was dyed;
Full in the midst, his Cross of Red
Triumphant Michael brandished,
And trampled the Apostate's pride.
The moonbeam kissed the holy pane,
And threw on the pavement a bloody stain."
Beyond the enjoyment and artistic refreshment to be obtained from the
contemplation of stained glass, who shall say that we do not receive
other benefits, the nature of which are as yet undiscovered? It is only
recently that our learned brothers, the scientists, have acquainted us
with the helpful qualities of those rays of light which, in the
language of the spectrum, are "out beyond the violet." In this
connection, it may be edifying to quote from the "Anecdotes and
Traditions" of Aubrey: "The curious oriental reds, yellows, blews, and
greens in glasse-painting, especially when the sun shines, doe much
refresh the spirits. After this manner did Dr. R. revive the spirits of
a poor distracted gentleman, for whereas his former physitian shutt up
his windows and kept him in utter darknesse, he did open his window
lids, and let in the light, and filled his windows with glasses of
curious tinctures, which the distempered person would always be looking
on, and it did conduce to the quieting of his disturbed spirits."
(Aubrey in "Anecdotes and Traditions," edited for the Camden Society by
W. J. Thomas, p. 96.)
Nor is this the only _terra incognita_ still awaiting exploration.
During some recent French experiments wide differences have been
observed in the same kind of vegetable when grown under differently
coloured glass covers. However, these are matters that will not be
"dreamed of in our philosophy"--our investigations will be confined to a
geographical search for that with which to delight our eyes.
When one pauses to consider how fragile the beauty of a stained glass
window, it becomes amazing that even so much as we can now visit has
survived. Over every European country there has, at one time or
another, swept a wave of destruction engulfing things artistic. The
causes for, as well as the agents of, this iconoclasm, differ widely.
Sometimes it comes from within, and is the result of civil war or of
religious fanaticism--less often it is the result of foreign invasion.
English windows had the good fortune to escape the destruction by
foreigners which the French had to suffer during those dreadful
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries when the Hundred Years' War outlasted
its title, and when the hot-headed Plantagenet kings kept France
continually plagued with English soldiery. Although we must record this
particular immunity, other agencies equally baleful were at work. The
Puritans made a practice of smashing stained glass, either because they
regarded it as one of the hated insignia of popery (some of their
ministers even knocking out the glass in churches under their own
charge, like "Blue Dick" Culmer at Canterbury Cathedral), or for reasons
of revenge, as in the case of the troops infuriated by the death of
their leader in the assault upon Lichfield. Dwellers within the
precincts of Lincoln made a common practice of shooting with crossbows
at the windows! At Great Malvern the possible excuse of crossbow
practice is missing; the villagers quite simply amused themselves by
throwing stones at the great east window, just from the sheer joy of
destruction. In some instances, even the mitigating circumstances of
religious fanaticism, revenge, competitive sport, or even amusement are
entirely lacking. Aubrey tells us in his "History of Surrey," that "At a
later date, one Blesse was hired for half-a-crown a day to break the
painted glass windows of Croydon." Little wonder is it that the citizens
of York should have voted Fairfax, the leader of the Roundheads, a tun
of wine, &c., in reward for his protecting care of the cathedral after
he and his soldiers had captured that city.
In an earlier book ("Stained Glass Tours in France") we observed that
French windows divided themselves into periods which were practically
coterminous with the centuries, thus enabling us to designate the styles
by their century number. In England the development of this craft
brought about the style-changes at irregular dates; but here also the
steps of this development are so marked as to separate it into distinct
epochs. English glass follows its architecture so closely that one
cannot do better than to accept the period-designation of the latter,
and especially is this true during the so-called Decorated and
Perpendicular epochs. For our purpose we will therefore use the
following sub-divisions: Early English, which will include all the glass
prior to 1280; Decorated, 1280 to 1380; Perpendicular, 1380 to 1500;
Renaissance (sometimes styled sixteenth century or Cinque Cento), 1500
to 1550. There are extremely few examples of the first and of the last
schools, in marked contrast to the great wealth in France of windows
contemporary thereto. Edward I. came to the throne in 1272, and it was
during his reign that the Decorated period began, running through the
reigns of Edward II. (1307), Edward III. (1327), and Richard II.
(1377)--all of them Plantagenets. This and the succeeding period
produced very little glass anywhere in France, because of the Hundred
Years' War, begun 1337, lasting until 1447, and waged throughout the
length and breadth of the land. The exact opposite is true in England,
where during the Decorated and Perpendicular epochs it reached its
greatest importance and beauty. The Perpendicular period begins in 1380,
shortly before Richard II., the last of the Plantagenets, was succeeded
by the representatives of the rival Houses of Lancaster and York, three
Lancastrians, Henry IV., V., and VI. (1399), (1413), (1422), being
succeeded by three Yorkists, Edward IV. (1461), Edward V. (1483), and
Richard III. (1483). This Perpendicular period came to an end at just
about the same time as that tremendous civil struggle, the War of the
Roses, was concluded by the accession of the House of Tudor, in the
person of Henry VII. (1485). Our Renaissance glass period begins under
him and lasts on through practically all the reigns of the House of
Tudor--Henry VIII. (1509), Edward VI. (1547), Mary (1553), Elizabeth
(1558). At the time that the Tudors were succeeded by the Stuarts (James
I., 1603), there was hardly any English glass being manufactured, save a
little for domestic use, although many Dutch glaziers were then active
in this country, as we shall regretfully observe when we visit Oxford
and Cambridge.
It is clear from many an entry in ancient English church archives that
French glaziers were often in the early days summoned across the
Channel, and that it is to them that we owe the beginning of English
glass; but we shall see that although it owes its origin to this foreign
assistance, it developed along distinctly original lines, and that
therefore the English glaziers deserve full credit for the charming
traits peculiar to them.
Although the period styled Early English has left comparatively few
examples north of the Channel, and cannot hope to vie with the many and
rich displays of mosaic glass to be seen in France, we shall be greatly
consoled by the splendid grisaille (or uncoloured glazing) that fills
the "Five Sisters" at York, and by the remains of the great series at
Salisbury. We have just referred to the scarcity of French stained glass
during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, those sorry days during
which the English occupation of a large part of the country, repeated
plagues, and uprisings of the lower classes against the nobles (like the
Jacquerie), vied with each other in the work of devastation. Indeed, it
is not strange that any art so dependent upon the fostering care of a
luxury-loving class should have been entirely superseded by the sterner
requirements of self-defence, to say nothing of the repairs necessitated
by the ravages of war, pestilence, and famine. Those two centuries, so
dreadful to France and so discouraging to French glaziers, produced in
England the greatest flowers of this craft. It is, therefore, clear that
if one wishes to obtain a comprehensively consecutive knowledge of
stained glass on both sides of the Channel, he must leave France and
cross over to England when the thread of his studies has obtained so far
as the Decorated and the Perpendicular. When, however, he reaches the
sixteenth century he must return to France, to revel in the wealth of
Renaissance glass so wofully lacking in England.
After one has observed a sufficient number of windows to provide a basis
for comparisons, it becomes easy to tell not only the epoch to which
they belong, but also, in most instances, whether they are early or late
in that epoch. In England one is assisted by an unusual amount of
reliable information from two sources, viz., old records and heraldic
indications from the coats of arms which are so often displayed. There
is so little sixteenth century glass in this country as to give but
small opportunity to observe the characteristic Renaissance custom of
placing the dates on the picture itself, which was then common in
France. Of earlier windows, however, English records and a knowledge of
heraldry give us the dates of many more than are obtainable for their
contemporaries in France. By way of example, the original contracts date
the glass at Beauchamp Chapel, Warwick, 1447; at King's College,
Cambridge, 1527; at York, in the nave, 1338, and in the choir, 1405, &c.
A comparative and historical study of their heraldic blazons gives us a
date for many of the windows at Bristol and at Wells, and of more still
in private houses.
The duty of the glazier was to adorn the window embrasures constructed
for him by the architect, and thus assist in the decoration of the
church. It is obvious that the size and shape of these apertures must
necessarily have had considerable, if not controlling, effect upon the
styles and methods of the glazier. A glance at the conformation of these
openings often tells the sub-divisions in which its glass belongs.
During Norman times the window arch was round and the opening wide. In
the Early English style the arch at the top becomes pointed and the
embrasures narrower. When the Decorated time arrives several narrow
lights are grouped together, separated only by slender stone mullions,
and culminating under the pointed arch at the top in a group of
gracefully adjusted small apertures called tracery lights. The
Perpendicular architect did little but straighten out the lines of his
predecessors, especially in the traceries, so that they, as well as the
mullions, should produce the effect of upright parallels which gave this
type its name. In the sixteenth century the Renaissance architect
provided large windows, and the glazier filled them with great pictures
of splendid colour.
In our investigation of English glass of the Early English (or mosaic)
period, we shall often find ourselves regretting the almost entire
absence of rose windows, so frequent and splendid across the Channel,
where those great blossoms of Gothic architecture provided such glorious
opportunities for the decorating hand of the glazier. For this lack we
shall later on find ample compensation (especially during Decorated and
Perpendicular times) in the huge sheet of glass filling the great east
window of many English churches. While the southern architect decided in
favour of the rounded apse for the east end of his cathedrals, his
northern neighbour preferred a square ended one, thus permitting a fine
broad embrasure, broken only by narrow mullions, and providing a golden
chance for the glazier, which he lost no time in seizing. Therefore, if
we miss the innumerable rose windows of France, it is but fair to state
that it possesses nothing that can vie with the great expanse of glowing
colour found at the east end of York or Gloucester or Malvern.
It is clear that the glass artist, whatever his nationality, had at
all times to take heed of the architecture which provided the setting
for his glass, and which his work was to help decorate. It is but
natural, therefore, that his designs should have been influenced by
the prevailing architectural style, and this was particularly true
in England during the prevalence of both the Decorated and the
Perpendicular schools. When the time arrived to change from the mosaic
method of constructing stained glass, the whole effort of the Englishman
seemed to have been devoted to making his new product conform to the new
Decorated style of building. Not so his neighbour across the Channel,
for there everything was then being sacrificed to the demand for better
lighted interiors, even to the extent of filling much of his embrasures
with grisaille, and using deep colour only in the borders or in bands of
canopy-framed figures across parts of the windows (Sees, Evreux). The
need for more illumination did not exist in England, for in that land of
cloudy skies and infrequent sunshine they had already realised how
greatly mosaic medallion glass obscured the light, and, therefore, had
early struck out for themselves, and developed an admirable use of
grisaille, as one may see at York and Salisbury. They had already solved
the problem of better illumination, and were that much ahead of their
French neighbours. In France, because of light-admitting grisaille then
demanded (either alone or in conjunction with the early canopies), the
fourteenth century window gives a lighter effect than when later on, in
the fifteenth century, the artist dispensed with the grisaille, enlarged
his canopy completely to fill its lancet, and, thanks to the development
of coated glass--_i.e._, several layers of different colours permitting,
in combination, a wide range of hues--introduced more varied and richer
colouring in both figures and costumes. In England, however, where
light-admitting grisaille had already been freely used during the mosaic
period, and the glazier began the fourteenth century untrammelled by any
sudden demand for brilliant illumination, we shall easily observe a
tendency directly contrary to that just remarked in France. The English
Decorated windows are much deeper in tone than the Perpendicular ones
which followed them. These latter seemed to have proved a satisfactory
solution of the lighting problem for the English climate. Indeed, we
shall see some at St. Neot, manufactured as late as 1530, that are
copied after others of the preceding century, and yet the later ones
are obviously from the hand of an artist so skilful as to have readily
worked in the contemporary Renaissance manner, had he not deliberately
preferred the earlier one.
Those who desire to study this subject seriously should read Lewis F.
Day's excellent "Windows of Stained Glass" (1897).
EARLY ENGLISH BEFORE 1280
--------------------------------------------------------------
PLANTAGENET { Edward I. 1272 1280-1380
{ Edward II. 1307 DECORATED
{ Edward III. 1327
{ (Crecy, 1346)
{ (Poitiers, 1356)
------------{-------------------------------------------------
{ Richard II. 1377 1380-1500
PERPENDICULAR
LANCASTER { Henry IV. 1399
{ Henry V. 1413
{ (Agincourt, 1415)
{ Henry VI. 1422
YORK { Edward IV. 1461
{ Edward V. 1483
{ Richard III. 1483
TUDOR { Henry VII. 1485
------------{-------------------------------------------------
{ Henry VIII. 1509 1500-1550
{ Edward VI. 1547 RENAISSANCE
{ Mary, 1553
{ Elizabeth, 1558
STUART { James I. 1603
TOURS
Our glass-hunting tours will take us into almost every part of England.
We shall go up and down the east coast cathedrals, from York in the
north to Canterbury in the south-east. We shall also wander through the
entire range of southern counties, and see the whole coast from
Winchester, west through Salisbury and Exeter to St. Neot, far off in
Cornwall, hard by Land's End. But it will be in that corner of England
which lies between Oxford and the Welsh border, that the greatest wealth
of windows will be found. We shall arrange the tours so that the order
in which the windows are viewed will conform chronologically with the
stages of the craft's development. It will, of course, largely depend on
whether he elects to travel by rail, by automobile, or by bicycle, just
how slavishly the pilgrim follows the order in which the towns have been
set out. The trips have been arranged with an eye to geography rather
than to railway time-tables--geography is so much more stable than
"Bradshaw's General Railway Guide"! The omission from the list of sundry
important cathedrals, like Durham, Ely, Peterborough, Worcester, &c.,
is caused by the deplorable fact that all their ancient stained glass
has been destroyed.
The order of towns is as follows:
Early English Epoch Salisbury, Canterbury, Lincoln,
York.
Decorated Epoch York, Norbury, Shrewsbury,
Ludlow, Hereford,
Tewkesbury, Deerhurst,
Bristol, Wells, Exeter,
Dorchester, Oxford.
Perpendicular Epoch Oxford, Fairford, Cirencester,
Gloucester, Great
Malvern, Little Malvern,
Ross, Warwick,
Coventry, York.
Salisbury.
Winchester.
St. Neot.
Renaissance Epoch London, Cambridge, Lichfield,
Shrewsbury.
Guildford, Gatton, Knole.
In selecting the order of the above itineraries, we have ended the
first, or Early English period, at York, because that city is not only
rich in early mosaic glass, but also in that of the Decorated period,
thus making it most convenient for us there to begin the second or
Decorated tour. In the same manner we have concluded the itinerary of
the Decorated period at Oxford, for there are found not only Decorated,
but also Perpendicular windows, thus permitting us to commence the
Perpendicular tour in the same city which ends our Decorated one.
York is set down as the last of the Perpendicular trip, but if our
pilgrim has already visited that city on either the Early English
or the Decorated tour, he will doubtless also have seen all of its
Perpendicular glass, which will obviate the necessity for again making
the long journey north. In that event, with York left out of the
Perpendicular tour, it will prove to be much more condensed, both as to
territory and distance, than either of the two earlier ones. The last,
or Renaissance epoch, has but few examples in England, and these are so
widely separated that it seems best to break them up into two tours. Of
the seven places cited (London, Cambridge, Lichfield, Shrewsbury,
Guildford, Gatton, and Knole) the best English glass is at London and
Cambridge, while that at Lichfield is Flemish, and most of that at
Shrewsbury German.
For tables of distances, &c., _see_ pp. 251-254.
[Illustration: GENERAL MAP]
EARLY ENGLISH
We shall find it more convenient to group all early glass under the
heading of "Early English," although it will be found not only in its
own narrow, pointed-arched windows, but also before that, in the
round-arched ones of the Norman style. So slow was the development
of our craft during all the time covered by those two schools of
architecture as to make it hardly proper or necessary that our subject
be likewise divided into two epochs. During both of them there is found
richly coloured glass of the "mosaic" type, and also uncoloured windows
of the sort styled by the French "grisaille." Obviously, uncoloured
glass admits much more light than that made up of rich dark hues, and,
therefore, it is but natural that the glazier who dwelt in a cloudy
northern land should early have realised the need for sufficient light
in his churches, a need which did not concern his fellow craftsmen in
the sunny lands of the south. Indeed if he had not appreciated this
practical side of his craft he would not have been the artist which his
windows prove him to have been. The glaziers of sunny Italy were never
confronted with this problem of sufficient illumination--if anything,
they had too much, no matter how richly they painted the panes. Their
fellows in France had less sunlight than they, but more than the
English, and therefore occupied an intermediate ground in the matter of
church illumination; the result was that the French neglected it so
entirely during both the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and so
darkened their interiors by heavily leaded mosaic glazing as to bring
about, at the opening of the fourteenth century, a sudden revulsion in
favour of better lighted interiors, which went so far as to produce the
excessive light and glare observable at Sees, St. Ouen (Rouen) and
Evreux. This sudden revulsion did not appear in England where, indeed,
there were no grounds for it, because, as we have just seen, the
glaziers had already thoroughly grasped the need for, as well as the
value of, light-admitting grisaille. That they thoroughly mastered the
technique of uncoloured glass we will readily conclude from the splendid
monuments to their genius in the "Five Sisters" at York, and the
grisaille in the south transept at Salisbury, ideal glazing for a land
of infrequent sunshine. Turning from these untinted windows to those
filled with colour, one notices at once that the early examples of the
latter are made up of very small pieces of different hues bound together
by winding strips of lead having little sunken channels on both sides
to hold the glass in place. So small are these pieces that the windows
seem to have been composed much in the same way that the diminutive
cubes are assembled to make a mosaic. It is because of this striking
similarity of method, that this early glazing, constructed of small
fragments, is frequently referred to as "mosaic" glass. Another name
which it often receives is also easily explainable. The stories on these
early windows are told by groups of very small figures, and to prevent a
chaotic multitude of these little persons spread over the glass, each
episode or group is separated from the others by a frame of contrasting
colour, thus breaking up the whole surface into medallions. For this
reason, early mosaic glazing is sometimes spoken of as "medallion
glass." Unfortunately for England, it possesses but few remains of this
delightful product, and therefore suffers sadly by comparison with the
great wealth of it to be seen in France. We shall find enough, however,
at Canterbury and Lincoln to kindle our enthusiasm for the splendid
jewelled glow which the glazier of that time, and of no other, knew how
to make his windows produce. It will not take long for the intelligent
observer to notice that this glitter is due partly to the fact that the
glass is free from paint (except that used to delineate features, folds
of garments, &c.), and partly because its surface is not regular as is
ours to-day. Furthermore, the pieces were small, and the constantly
recurring leadlines (breaking up and combining the rays of light coming
through the little panes) assisted materially to produce the brilliancy
and shimmer which so delight the eye. There is no doubt that the glazier
thoroughly realised this, and availed himself of this mingling of the
coloured rays to suit the purposes of his picture. We frequently see a
thirteenth century window that produces a purple effect, and yet a
closer inspection will reveal that there is only red and blue glass used
in it, but so cunningly have they been intermingled as to produce a much
warmer purple than any sheet of purple glass could render. Some writers
would have us believe that the glazier had no choice but to use these
small bits in building up his picture, and that therefore the rich
glowing effect was the result of chance, and not that of intelligent
deliberation. Any one who has been fortunate enough to visit St.
Maurice's Cathedral at Angers is amply equipped to refute this theory,
and will be prepared to give full credit to the glazier of the
thirteenth century, for, in that church, the twelfth century mosaic
glass of the nave is readily seen to be composed of much larger
fragments than were employed in the choir by the thirteenth century man.
These latter in the choir glisten and glitter, while the earlier ones in
the nave, composed of larger pieces, do not. This indicates that the
improvement shown by the thirteenth century windows over those of the
twelfth century was caused by artistic intelligence, and at the expense
of more labour to the glazier, because in lessening the size of his
panes, he greatly increased the work of leading them together. As he
purposely used smaller fragments, he should receive full credit for his
splendid results. Those who have been so fortunate as to see the French
thirteenth century windows will not only regret the fewness of examples
of that period in England, but will also remark the dearth there of the
great rose windows so frequent in France. Furthermore, he will notice
that in the case of English medallion windows, the medallions are
smaller than those across the Channel; this is caused by the fact that
the lancets of the Early English school were narrower than contemporary
French ones, and therefore necessitated a smaller medallion. While it is
true that it is only at Lincoln that one finds the splendid rose windows
which reach their greatest perfection in France, compensation for their
absence is found in the development in their place of a style of window
almost unknown in France, _i.e._, the great east window, of which such
superb examples will be seen during the next (or Decorated) period at
York, Bristol, and many other places. This difference in the development
of the largest light aperture of a church is due to the architect; in
France he built the eastern end of his churches round, but in England
they were square, thereby permitting a large sheet of glazing at the
east end, which the French rounded apse could not afford. It is
gratifying to note the way in which the genius of the glazier, no matter
where he lived, seized upon and developed to the utmost the artistic
possibilities of his glass, and, furthermore, how cleverly he adapted
them to the structures prepared for him by his architect. We shall see
at Canterbury, more clearly even than elsewhere, that in the manufacture
of this early mosaic glass the English glaziers followed the French
models. In "Stained Glass Tours in France," p. 17, we have made some
conjectures as to the beginnings of glass in France and whence it came
into that country. Indications appear to be in favour of its first steps
being guided by a group of enamellers in Limoges, who were instructed or
influenced by a colony of Venetians that settled near by in 979,
bringing with them their Byzantine art. Whatever opinion we may hold,
there can be no doubt that a striking similarity in drawing, colouring,
&c., is to be remarked between stained glass of the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries, Limoges enamels of those two and the two preceding
centuries, and the Byzantine mosaics of St. Mark's in Venice, &c.
EARLY ENGLISH TOUR
Even though we shall encounter but few examples of this period in
England, a tour of the towns in which they are to be found will perhaps
yield us more interesting glimpses into history than our later tours,
far richer though they may be in glass. Starting at ancient Salisbury
hard by the site of Druid Stonehenge, we follow the oldest of English
national roads, the "Pilgrim's Way," through Winchester (for so long
the English capital) on to Canterbury with its dramatic history of the
martyred archbishop. Close to Canterbury are Chartham and Willesborough;
these may be seen _en route_ from Salisbury. Thence we go north to
Lincoln, and, after an interesting visit to its sanctuary-crowned
hilltop, we will push on still further north to York, that
treasure-house of glass of this as well as of all periods. Although we
end our first tour in that city, we shall also be able there to begin
our second one, and may also, if we choose, inspect the glass of a
still later (the Perpendicular) epoch.
[Illustration: MAP OF EARLY ENGLISH TOUR]
SALISBURY
There is no country in the world whose ancient history is writ so large
upon its broad acres as old England. It is full of silent testimonials
to past events which render those early days and their happenings more
vivid than any printed page can hope to effect. Many of these remains
are of such remote antiquity as to long antedate our glass, but
nevertheless we must not be so prejudiced as to neglect them when
encountered on our travels. Indeed, it may well be that the existence of
other attractions of this sort may secure for us the company of certain
archaeological friends who at first will have but small interest in
glass. Nor need we distress ourselves about how small that interest may
be; for if they, for any reason, accompany us, our charming windows will
surely make converts of them long before the journey is ended. These
same archaeological folk will tell us that few localities in England can
show more extraordinary historical remains than Stonehenge and Old Sarum
near Salisbury. The great upright monoliths of Stonehenge, stationed in
the form of a horse-shoe within a circle, loom up in such a solitary
and impressive way upon the great reaches of Salisbury Plain as to
produce a mental picture long to be remembered. Their very isolation
makes them much more striking than the voluminous remains of a similar
nature erected also by the Druids on the west coast of Brittany. As
for Old Sarum, it is now nothing but a lofty fortified camp, but the
enclosure within its circle of high walls formerly contained a town
which was the predecessor of Salisbury. The shape of this high truncated
cone recalls the pictures of the Tower of Babel that used to appear in
our child's geographies. Whatever may have been the real cause for the
removal of Salisbury to its present site, the one generally alleged was
that Sarum lacked water--this certainly cannot be charged against the
present city, which is so sorely harassed at certain seasons of the year
by local floods, as well to merit the name often given it of the
"English Venice." Its vast cathedral is much more regular and balanced
in its proportions than are most examples of mediaeval church
architecture. The two great twin spires are esteemed the most beautiful
in England. To one who has become accustomed to the archaic appearance
of most European cathedrals, Salisbury will prove quite a surprise; in
the words of Emerson, "The cathedral, which was finished six hundred
years ago, has even a spruce and modern air." This splendid building,
even if it were not so impressive as it is, would have been rendered
sufficiently picturesque because of the setting provided by the shaded
walks and green swards of its Close. Within the roomy interior are
examples not only of thirteenth century medallion glass, but also some
of the best types of English grisaille of that period. Because of the
belief that the doors, windows and pillars exactly coincide respectively
with the number of months, days and hours in the year, Thomas Fuller
said, "All Europe affords not such an almanac of architecture." We are
concerned only with that portion of the almanac that has to do with the
days. An old rhyme says:
"As many days as in one year there be
So many windows in this church we see."
Notwithstanding the great number of light apertures thus provided by the
architect, the glazier was not permitted to make excessive use of the
light-obscuring coloured mosaic glass, as was then the custom in France.
Grisaille was plentifully used, and Salisbury was famous for it. Most of
its remains are found in the upper lancets at the south end of the
easterly transepts, as well as a little in the west windows of the nave
aisles, the east one of the choir aisles, and the lower triplet in the
south end of the small transepts. Two of the easterly clerestory lights
of the large northern transept also show this early pattern glass.
Instead of filling the other embrasures with rudely contrasting modern
glazing, a very intelligent effort has been made throughout the choir
and transept to model as closely as possible upon these ancient
examples. The result is very agreeable--at least it contrives to give us
some idea of how the church must have looked with its original windows
all complete. Little touches of colour are very judiciously interspersed
throughout the strapwork, and serve to correct what otherwise might be
dull-toned. Blue is very extensively used here for this purpose, and to
a greater extent than is usually found elsewhere. It tones in admirably
with the greenish hue of the glass, and enriches it without risking too
striking a contrast. The thirteenth century medallion remains have been
collected into the three lancets at the western end. Note especially the
plentiful and interesting fragments of the Tree of Jesse done in mosaic
style which has been introduced in two parallel columns into the central
lancet: the borders are contemporary. The side lancets are not so
satisfactorily filled, for the combination of strips of later glass
separated by equally wide ones of old grisaille, and all surrounded by
a rich old border on ruby and blue backgrounds, is not pleasing. The
medallions are interesting, but nothing like so fine as we shall see
elsewhere. We shall chiefly remember Salisbury Cathedral for the
effective glazing of its choir and transepts afforded by thirteenth
century grisaille eked out with good modern glass copied after it.
One does not have to search far in the records of Salisbury to find why
there is so little remaining of its ancient glazing. Time has been
materially aided and abetted in its work of destruction by ruthless
restorations, of which the worst was Wyatt's in the eighteenth century.
We read that "whole cartloads of glass, lead, and other rubbish were
removed from the nave and transepts, and shot into the town ditch, then
in course of being filled up; whilst a good deal of similar rubbish was
used to level the ground near the chapter-house." Nor was destruction
the only means used to get rid of the Salisbury windows, as will appear
from the following letter written to Mr. Lloyd, of London, in 1788, by
John Berry, a glazier of Salisbury:
"SIR.--This day I have sent you a Box full of old Stained &
Printed glass, as you desired me to due, which I hope will sute
your Purpos, it his the best that I can get at Present. But I
expect to Beate to Peceais a great deal very sune, as it his of
now use to me, and we do it for the lead. If you want more of
the same sorts you may have what thear is, if it will pay you
for taking out, as it is a Deal of Truble to what Beating it to
Peceais his; you will send me a line as soon as Possable, for
we are goain to move our glasing shop to a Nother plase and
thin we hope to save a great deal more of the like sort, which
I ham your most Omble servent--JOHN BERRY."
There is also later glass to be seen here. St. Thomas's Church, in the
first embrasure from the east of the north aisle, has the remains of a
Decorated Tree of Jesse, in which, as well as in other fragments along
the traceries, there is a good deal of yellow stain observable. In the
vestry, which is off the north aisle, are three small lancets upon which
appear figures against quarry backgrounds not as usual ensconced in
canopies. The wooden ceilings in the north and south aisles are
especially fine.
For the Perpendicular glass at Salisbury _see_ p. 192.
CANTERBURY
Even a careless observer of the life and customs of the Middle Ages will
have noticed that one of its most extraordinary features is the extent
to which people of every European country went upon pilgrimages. The
nature and object of these religious journeys varied widely, running the
gamut from the Crusades to the visiting of neighbouring shrines. The
history of the Crusades is well known, but perhaps few of us realise the
tremendous interest taken in the more domestic and near-by pilgrimages.
The English were like all the rest of Christendom in this curious craze,
and for several centuries the most revered, as well as the most popular
of their many shrines was that of the martyred Thomas a Becket at
Canterbury. More highly prized than any other similar trophy was the
small leaden flask hung about the neck of one who had taken that
journey, and was thus qualified to bear away this pilgrim's token
filled with water from the holy well beneath the cathedral. A modern
counterpart is afforded by the value Mohammedans set upon the wearing
of a green turban, the privilege accorded to one who has visited Mecca.
Although Canterbury had always since the earliest days possessed many
saintly relics, a marked increase in the number of pilgrims was noted
after the martyrdom of a Becket. These pilgrimages steadily grew in
vogue until when, in the fifteenth century, they had reached their
height, not only did the stream of travellers continue steadily
throughout the year, but during the months of December and July
(anniversaries of the martyrdom and the transference of the relics)
we read that the numbers swelled to such an extent that the housing
facilities of the little city were greatly overtaxed. A jubilee was held
every fifty years, and on these occasions the crowds grew to enormous
size. During the jubilee of 1420 we are told that over 100,000 pilgrims
were gathered in the city at the same time. Hay and wood were provided
gratuitously for them, a bounty which the cathedral could well afford,
because of the great value of the gifts constantly received from these
visitors. It is easy to see how important a nationalising influence must
have resulted from this meeting together of all classes of society from
different parts of the country. How widely these pilgrims varied in
station and occupation can be gathered from Chaucer's inimitable
"Canterbury Tales." Those amusing chronicles also show that while
religion was doubtless a powerful motive in causing these pilgrimages,
there was besides a great deal of what is called to-day "the desire for
foreign travel." In fact, it is difficult to find much religious flavour
in the tales of merriment and adventure which follow each other in this
delightful series. Chaucer probably selected a Canterbury pilgrimage
as the setting for his poem in order to appeal to a great number of
readers, for he well knew the kingdom to be full of people who had taken
this journey, and to whom, therefore, his tales would be of peculiar
interest. Although Chaucer was the son and grandson of vintners, he won
his way into high favour at Court, a hint of which is obtained from the
fact that Edward III. paid L16 (then a considerable sum) to ransom him
after his capture by the French.
[Illustration: _J. G. Charlton, photo._
"BECKET'S CROWN," CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL
Thirteenth Century medallions; notice circular and other forms
enclosing the figures. The heavy iron bars needed to support the
great weight of lead are skilfully adjusted to the design. The
world-famous shrine stood in the centre of this space. Tomb of
Black Prince in foreground, and above it armour he wore at
Crecy]
Another group of equally diverting but more whimsical poems are
inseparably connected with this neighbourhood. Rev. Richard Barham lived
near Canterbury, and many of his engaging Ingoldsby Legends have their
scenes laid there, some within the cathedral precincts. The county of
Kent, of which Canterbury is the chief city, is peopled by a sturdy folk
who have always been jealous of their rights and insistent upon their
own interpretation of the law, as, for example, although primogeniture
existed almost everywhere else in England, Kent always preferred
gavelkind (an equal division of property among the children of the
deceased). As illustrating the strength of Kentish traditions, it is
amusing to note that one must remember carefully to apply the expression
"Kentish man" to a dweller in the western half of the county, and "Man
of Kent" to him of the eastern. Confuse these two designations at your
peril! There is a bit of local history which has a fine heroic flavour,
and which points our moral excellently. After William the Conqueror had
won the battle of Hastings, all Kent, headed by the Archbishop of
Canterbury, gathered to protect its ancient rights against the invader.
They marched forth to meet William at Swanscourt, each man fully armed,
and carrying above him a green bough to mask the numbers of their host.
William's surprise and perplexity at seeing this perambulating forest
approaching him can well be imagined. When he inquired the reason for
it, there came the fine reply that Kent demanded its ancient rights, and
if granted them would live peaceably under his rule, but if they were to
be denied, then there must be instant war! The politic Norman complied
with their request, and the Kentish forest marched off.
So beautiful are the distant prospects of Canterbury Cathedral that
excellent aesthetic reasons may be advanced for the religious custom that
required all mounted pilgrims to dismount as soon as they could spy the
Angel Steeple, and complete the last stage of the pilgrimage on foot.
Proceeding in this more leisurely fashion, the beauties of the
picturesque grouping of the buildings about the cathedral developed
slowly before their eyes.
On descending into the town, many interesting sights meet one's view in
the quaint winding streets and narrow lanes. The name of one of these,
Watling Street, recalls the fact that through this city ran that great
Roman road. Another element of the picturesque is added by the
meandering through the town of the river Stour, over whose narrow stream
project many of the houses. Finally we arrive at a large gatehouse,
whose modest portal affords access to the sacred precincts, and
introduces us to a series of most delightful pictures, for there are few
cathedrals in the world placed in so charming a setting. An old legend
gravely narrates that when the walls of the sanctuary were heightened
about the middle of the tenth century, the building was, perforce,
roofless for three years, and that during that period no rain fell
within this favoured enclosure! We need not stop to consider the
different features of the architecture which have delighted so many eyes
and are so well known from photographs and other reproductions. We must,
however, note in passing that during a Becket's exile he chanced to be
in Sens at the very time that the great French architect, William of
Sens, was finishing the first attempt in pointed Gothic. This probably
explains why, when the choir of Canterbury Cathedral was destroyed by
fire, the monks in 1174 summoned William to rebuild it. During the work
he fell from the scaffold and received injuries from which he died. The
selection of that foreign architect assists in explaining why the mosaic
glass at Canterbury so closely resembles the late twelfth century
windows at Sens, and permits us to conjecture that with the French
architect there came over French glaziers. The French Gothic which was
here introduced by William of Sens was, to a certain extent, copied
elsewhere. Traces of it at York Cathedral are doubtless due to the fact
that the Archbishop of York who caused its introduction had been
Archdeacon at Canterbury during the time that William of Sens was
working there. We will enter the church and press on to the northern
transept, where took place that tragic episode resulting from the
constant strife between Henry II. and the proud churchman a Becket. In
the dimness of this old-world corner one can almost live over again the
scene at twilight, December 29, 1170, when the four knights, taunted
into exasperation by a Becket's hot words, cut down the defenceless
priest, thinking thus to serve their royal master. Not only did this
base act bring upon Henry the open shame of being forced to do most
abject penance before the shrine of his sainted victim, but it also
produced many extraordinary results of widely differing nature during
the centuries to follow. Just after the assassination the monks, upon
removing the garments of their murdered chief, found, to their great
surprise, that beneath the rich raiment of him whom they had always
mistrusted as a brilliant courtier, was worn the haircloth shirt of
their monastic order. Their sudden revulsion of feeling, and the
religious enthusiasm which overcame them at that sight, seems prophetic
of other revulsions that were to take place during the Middle Ages in
the attitude of the public mind towards this bloody page of Church
history. Just as then their feelings abruptly changed, so after wealth
and costly gifts had flowed to this shrine for centuries, and almost
every city in Christendom had an altar or a church dedicated to
St. Thomas, suddenly men of thought became disgusted by the many
reprehensible features connected with this cult, which, perhaps, were
only the natural results of the throngs attending the pilgrimages. The
pendulum, which had swung too high on one side, swept back to the other
extreme; and this brings us to one of the strangest parts of this story,
if not, indeed, the weirdest in all the annals of the law. Henry VIII.
cast covetous eyes upon the hoard of jewels gathered together in
Canterbury Cathedral, so he instituted a legal proceeding to enable him
to lay hold upon them. As royal successor to Henry II. he caused the
Attorney-General in 1538 to bring suit against a Becket for treason, and
had the papers duly served upon the famous shrine! Counsel was appointed
to represent the long dead subject, and the case was argued with all the
pomp and circumstance of legal warfare. The martyr was found guilty, and
all the wealth of his shrine was declared escheated to the Crown. We
read that it was necessary to employ twenty-six carts to carry off the
booty. Could anything be more strange and fantastic than so material an
outcome to the wild deed of the four knights!
Of the other tombs here, the most interesting are those of Henry IV. and
the Black Prince. Above the latter is suspended the armour worn by him
at the battle of Crecy.
Before commencing to examine the stained glass, we must warn the reader
that it suffered severely at the hands of that arch-ruffian of all glass
destroyers, Dick Culmer (or "Blue Dick," as he was called), the minister
in charge of the Abbey during the Commonwealth. So violently opposed
to his appointment were the townspeople that they locked all the
cathedral's doors against him, thus forcing him to effect his first
entrance by breaking in one of the windows--an evil omen! No sooner was
he installed than he set diligently to work to destroy the stained
glass, and, furthermore, openly boasted of his energy in that respect.
In his "Cathedral News from Canterbury," he says, "A minister on top of
the city ladder, nearly sixty steps high, with a whole pike in his hand,
rattling down proud Becket's glassie bones when others present would not
venture so high." This glass, so destroyed, was in the north transept.
There is but little mosaic medallion thirteenth century glass in
England, and therefore what there is of it at Canterbury would for that
reason alone have great value, but because the examples there found are
among the best of that period now extant, its importance is thereby
greatly enhanced. An ancient supplement to the "Canterbury Tales"
relates, with amusing conversational detail, how the pilgrims, upon
entering the church by the south-western door of the nave, at once fell
to admiring the windows and studying out their legends. The ruthless
hand of time, assisted by those of Dick Culmer and Co., have made it
impossible for us to enjoy that same pleasure, but certain fragments of
that glass gathered together into the western window give a hint of what
the beauty of the complete series must have been. With this exception
there is nothing to detain one long in the nave, so we will pass on to
the eastern end of the church to inspect the remaining contemporary
windows--they are the finest of their type in England, and will be
found in the north choir aisle, the circular apse at the extreme
easterly end (known as Becket's Crown) and Trinity Chapel. There has
been preserved for us an old Latin list describing and locating all the
windows in their original order, and from this we learn that the ancient
panels now in the north choir aisle between the easterly transept and
the chapel of the Martyrdom (north end of the westerly transepts) were
formerly in the embrasures of the latter. Their workmanship is very
fine, and they tell their parables with great distinctness. Proceeding
eastward to Becket's Crown, we shall be afforded an edifying opportunity
to observe how much more brilliant and generally delightful are the old
mosaic medallions than even the best modern copies. The oldest window
dates from the middle of the thirteenth century, and it takes but a
glance to betray those of its companions which are modern. The
improvements of centuries in glass manufacture fail utterly to yield
us an equivalent for the brilliancy of the crudely constructed panels
of that time. The most interesting and, for various reasons, the most
valuable medallions are those filling the six windows of Trinity Chapel
which retain their original glazing. In those on the north side of where
the shrine used to stand, are medallions whose groups display miracles
performed by the saint, or episodes illustrative of his healing power.
At the top of the second from the east on this side is a medallion of
very peculiar interest because it depicts Benedict's vision of the saint
emerging from his shrine in full canonicals and moving toward the high
altar to say mass. Examine it carefully, for here we have the only
representation now existing of that world-renowned shrine, whose lavish
decoration of gold and jewels so roused the cupidity of Henry VIII. as
to cause its destruction. There is every reason to believe this to be a
veracious reproduction, for being installed directly opposite and a few
yards from the shrine of which it was the counterfeit presentment, any
but a careful copy thereof would have been useless in telling the
window's story. More of this splendid glass is found filling the lower
embrasures along the north side between the two sets of transepts, and
also above in the three upper half-circle windows, both on this and the
opposite side of the church ambulatory; note the mellow richness of
their reds and blues. The central embrasure of the most easterly or
Trinity Chapel retains its early mosaic medallions, easily distinguished
from the modern imitations on either side. High up in the north wall of
the easterly transepts is a rose window which retains its thirteenth
century glazing in the large central circle, but alas! white glass
replaces all but the borders of the outer circles, thus drowning the old
glass in a glare of light and utterly extinguishing the splendid glow
which would otherwise delight our eyes. Although the handsome five-light
Decorated window on the south side of St. Anselm's Chapel (lying off the
south choir aisle) has lost its original glass, the records of the cost
contain features of interest. The contract for its construction is dated
1336, and the items of expense (which total L42 17_s._ 2_d._) indicate
that the heavy iron saddle-bars, &c., required to support the great
quantity of lead used in joining the glass, cost almost as much as the
glazing; L4 4_s._ 0_d._ was paid for twenty hundredweight of iron, L6
13_s._ 4_d._ "for glass and the labour of the glaziers."
The chief window of the north-west transept, generally called the chapel
of the Martyrdom, was presented by Edward IV., and when complete must
have been a fine example of the Perpendicular school. Its seven tall
lancets are broken into four tiers, and surmounted by handsome tracery
lights. Here formerly appeared "The Seven Glorious Appearances of the
Virgin," with a Becket in the centre, but "Blue Dick" Culmer destroyed
them all while engaged in his pleasing task of "rattling down proud
Becket's glassie bones." Notwithstanding the treatment to which this
window was subjected, it still presents a very attractive appearance.
The original fragments have been collected within coloured borders and
throw into bold relief the richly toned kneeling figures of Edward IV.
and his wife, which are placed facing each other. Behind the queen are
stationed her five daughters, divided into one group of three and
another of two, while behind the king are the two little princes, who
were later murdered in the Tower of London. The backgrounds behind the
figures are noteworthy because they are composed of repetitions of the
badge of each individual; behind the king are the white roses and suns
of York; behind the queen, green thistles; feathers behind the Prince of
Wales, &c. Above them is a tier of white-robed angels with red wings,
against backgrounds of blue or green, supporting heraldic shields. Just
below this window and leading off to the east is the Dean's Chapel,
lighted on the east by a very pleasant quarry window, upon each of whose
panes appears in yellow stain the double knot which indicates the donor
to have been Archbishop Bourchier, whom we shall encounter later on at
Knole. A relieving note of colour is lent by the shield of arms at the
bottom of each lancet. Three of the small windows that light the
picturesque little baptistery contain effigies of ecclesiastical
dignitaries and saints within richly toned borders, while in the small
traceries above them are heraldic blazons.
Splendid as this noble cathedral now is, how much more impressive must
it have been when all its windows were filled with mosaic medallions
through which a warmly tinted illumination tempered the minster gloom.
It is difficult to repress the anachronistic wish that the knights who
came here seeking to slay a Becket might instead have wreaked their lust
for blood upon "Blue Dick" Culmer!
* * * * *
Near Canterbury there are some Early English fragments at Chartham, four
miles west on the road to Maidstone. They are in the tracery lights on
the north side of the chancel. In one of these small openings there has
been inserted a baptismal scene, but because it is upside down the water
seems like a cross between a shower-bath and the sword of Damocles! The
chief reason for stopping at this church is the very agreeable lighting
of its chancel in the Decorated manner. In the two embrasures on the
north side have been collected all that remains of the original pattern
glass, but the other lights have been glazed as much like these two as
possible. A mellow richness, not often seen, is the chief characteristic
of this low-toned grisaille, overrun with graceful coloured designs. In
its perfection that style was most attractive. In a south-easterly
suburb of Ashford called Willesborough there are in the chancel a couple
of very complete and pleasing Decorated windows. They both have quarry
backgrounds with coloured borders, but the one to the north is much
more attractive. Upon its surface are not only the coloured bosses seen
in the one across the chancel, but also some handsome canopy-framed
figures. The leaf design on the borders should be noted, and also the
labels below the figures.
LINCOLN
A golden-brown cathedral crowning the summit of a solitary hill rising
from a wide plain--so Lincoln lingers in one's memory!
Few towns have their situation more clearly described by their names
than this one, derived, as it is, from "llin" a mere, and "dun" a hill,
a hill above a mere. The plain is now drained of the marshes which
formerly overspread it, but the great isolated mount remains always the
same, and upon the summit is stationed, like a splendid sentinel, the
mighty bulk of the cathedral. Rarely, indeed, does a great church have
so dominating and superb a site, nor is it often that so prominent a
point is crowned by such a noble structure. Near it is the ancient
castle, built first by the Romans and later strengthened by warriors of
other races equally quick to appreciate the military strength of its
commanding position. From the tower at one corner of its perfectly
preserved ramparts is afforded a most inspiring view in every direction.
Nor were the great walls of the cathedral less serviceable in affording
a strong refuge in war. It needs but a glance at the sturdy west front
to show why Stephen in 1141, during the war of the Barons, finding the
Earls of Lincoln and Chester in possession of the castle, threw himself
into the adjacent cathedral and thus secured as strong a fortress as
they. Not only is the western facade very beautiful, but it is also a
manifestation, rare in England, of the practice usual in France of
making this portion of the exterior the most important of all. Here at
Lincoln it is as if a wide mask of stone had been built on to the end of
the nave, lending as great an impression of width as one gets of height
by a similar trick at Peterborough. These two are almost the only
attempts in England to use this facade for other than simply closing the
end of the edifice. The result at Lincoln is most imposing, but it
produces its best effect when seen from a little distance, because then
one gets the great sweep of the lines, relieved by the galleries of
statues and warmed by the yellowish brown of the stone. A nearer
inspection discloses how the later work has been pieced on to the older,
which tends to distract our attention from the front as a whole. Not
satisfied with the great strength of the building itself, permission was
early obtained from the Crown to surround the Close with walls and
gates, of which the picturesque Exchequer gate survives. This enclosure
goes by the name of the Minster Yard. When visiting the little hamlet
of Dorchester we will remark upon how great was once its glory and how
widely the sway of its Bishop then extended. This glory departed when
Bishop Remigius (who built the central and oldest part of the Lincoln
west front) decided about 1072 to remove his seat to the more lofty and
far safer site upon Lincoln Hill. Before concluding the inspection of
the cathedral's exterior, it is timely to remark that through all the
centuries it has been famous in story and song for its chime of bells.
During the period when that delightful industry, the making of ballads,
prevailed throughout England, there were many whose scenes were laid at
Lincoln, and in almost every one of these some reference is made to "The
bells o' merrie Lincoln."
Sad havoc has been played with the ancient glass, but here we cannot
blame the Puritans alone. To be sure, they exercised their usual zeal in
destroying the windows as far up as they could reach, but it must be
admitted that they only completed the task earlier begun by the
citizens, who were wont to amuse themselves by shooting with arrows and
crossbow bolts at the roof and at the windows. This appears in the
defence set up by the Dean when, during the time of Henry VIII., charges
had been brought against him for permitting the cathedral to fall into
such shocking disrepair. Notwithstanding the efforts of the crossbow
vandals and their successors, the Puritans, there has been preserved for
us a very considerable amount of old glass, and that, too, of the Early
English type, a period of which there are so few remains in England.
These remnants are so placed as to be seen to great advantage. They fill
the east windows of the north and south aisles of the choir, and the
large windows in the end of the great northerly transept. The old
glazing of the eastern windows of the north and south choir aisles is
complete and very interesting. It is not so beautiful as it would have
been if the spaces between the brilliant medallions had also been filled
with colour instead of the greenish grisaille which the practical
Englishman used so as to admit more light than would have been possible
through the entirely coloured panes of his more artistic, if less
utilitarian, French contemporary. He succeeded in getting his
illumination, but he lost the jewelled shimmer that meets one's eyes at
Chartres and Reims. Moreover, there is also lacking the richness and
solidity of tone which is so enjoyable in France. The French system was
followed at Canterbury, and there is a marked difference in the effect
of that glass from this at Lincoln. Unfortunately, the great east window
between these two excellent aisle ones is filled with modern glass that
suffers sadly by comparison with its ancient neighbours.
Passing to the transepts we shall encounter the pleasant custom so rare
in England (though common in France) of giving a familiar name to a
great window. Here the splendid northern rose is called "The Dean's
Eye," and its sister to the south "The Bishop's Eye," which names they
have borne for more than six hundred years. Many are the reasons that
have been advanced for these titles, but probably the practical one is
correct, viz., the Dean's Eye faces the Deanery and the Bishop's Eye the
Bishop's palace. Among the many fanciful and more poetic explanations
there is one which, although it is less reasonable, we must be pardoned
for finding more attractive, viz., as the north is the region of the
Evil One, it is proper that the Dean's Eye should look into that
direction in order to guard against any attempt on his part to invade
the sanctuary. The Bishop's Eye is turned toward the sunny south, "The
region of the Holy Spirit whose sweet influence alone can overcome the
wiles of the wicked one." The older of the pair, the Dean's Eye, was
probably glazed about 1220. It is best seen from the gallery or from the
triforium which runs along just below it, and is a fine rose of the
usual type. Below it there extends a row of five pointed lancets
containing very light toned grisaille which almost entirely lacks the
usual touches of colour. Below these are two larger lancets flanking the
doorway; the one to the east has grisaille quarries as a border and
within, geometric designs in colour. The westerly lancet shows a vine in
whose branches are angels playing upon musical instruments, the whole
surrounded by grisaille touched with colour. Across in the southern end
of these transepts is one of the most delightful windows to be seen
anywhere, the Bishop's Eye. Not only is this rose window a jewel of the
glazier's art, but the mason as well has added a wondrous charm by the
lightness of his stone traceries and the curious interpenetrated stone
frame which he has placed about it. The architect, too, has joined in
beautifying the _ensemble_ by stationing below it four large lancets of
such harmonious proportions as admirably to balance and set off their
more important neighbour just above them. In these lancets are found
some Early English glass--broad borders of grisaille enframing the
rich-toned medallions within. The Bishop's Eye was glazed about the
middle of the fourteenth century and yields a warm greenish grey light.
Instead of having its lines radiate from the centre in the customary
manner, its gracefully curved mullions tend to flow up and down and
suggest the fibres of five great leaves standing upright side by side.
[Illustration: ROSE WINDOW, LINCOLN CATHEDRAL
Tracery unusual in that it does not radiate from centre.
Quantity of greenish grisaille used emphasises leaf-like design.
Thirteenth Century medallions in the tall lancets below]
YORK
To one approaching York by road, especially if coming by way of
Scarcroft Hill, the ancient appearance of the town seems to translate it
out of the Middle Ages. The dust-grey line of walls along the grassy
banks that slope down to the moat, sweep far around in unbroken majesty,
strengthened here and there by bastions or by a sturdy gatehouse. To
complete the old-world picture, above the walls peep red-tiled gables,
or occasionally the towers and spires of numerous churches, all
dominated by the great bulk of the cathedral.
Insignificant historically ever since the days when the city of Eboren
was the capital of Britain, York is chiefly known for the use of its
name in two prolonged struggles (fought out, however, on other fields),
the one between the House of York and Lancaster, called "The War of the
Roses," and the other the great contest lasting from 601 on till the
middle of the fourteenth century to decide whether the Archbishop of
York or he of Canterbury should be the Primate of England. York's
unimportance in English history may be due partly to its situation too
far north to have been in the heart of the constant struggle for power,
and partly to the fact that it was so repeatedly ravaged by Danes and
other invaders, the worst blow of all being when William the Conqueror
gave all that neighbourhood such a dreadful harrowing that the lands
from York to Durham laid untilled for nine years, and did not fully
recover for centuries. Almost the sole exception to this unimportant
_role_ was the seven years during which Edward I. moved the law courts
to York and made it his royal capital. Fortunately for the city, its
connection with the bloody struggle of the rival Roses was almost
entirely confined to lending its name to one of the Houses, for this
great drama was chiefly enacted to the south of it. Although the other
famous contest to which we alluded, and which dragged its weary length
through nearly eight centuries, had to do only with ecclesiastical
predominance, yet it exercised a potent influence upon the destinies of
the generations it concerned. It is impossible to obtain a realising
sense of men and events in the Middle Ages unless one takes into account
the tremendous force, and that, too, a militant one, exercised by the
great ecclesiastics. A striking example is provided by Archbishop Scrope
of York, who aspired so high that he rebelled against his king and was
only defeated after the strenuous campaign described in Shakespeare's
"Henry IV." He was executed at York in 1405. We remarked another
example at Canterbury in the bloody ending of a Becket's attempt to
brave Henry II. Because he was Archbishop of Canterbury and opposed to
the king, it is not surprising to find that the contemporary Archbishop
of York, Roger Pont l'Eveque, was a staunch adherent of Henry. It was
this very Roger who, in 1176, precipitated one of the many disgraceful
rows that besmirched this struggle for the Primacy. The Papal Legate was
presiding at the Council of Westminster, and a Becket's successor,
Richard of Canterbury, was seated on his right. Roger came in late, and,
declining to accept any but the most honoured seat, sat down on
Richard's lap, whereupon a brawl ensued, ending in Roger's discomfiture.
Pitiable as was this scene, at least it was less disastrous to the
people at large than many another episode of this tedious and
acrimonious struggle, finally ended by the Bull of Pope Innocent VI.,
designating the Archbishop of Canterbury as the Primate of all England.
York is by all odds the most important of all English glass
centres. Although one often finds occasion elsewhere to curse the
glass-destroying Puritan, at York it must be admitted that the presence
of so many ancient windows is due to the control exercised by Fairfax
over his Parliamentary troops after a successful siege of the place. He
well deserved the butt of sack and tun of French wine voted him by the
Corporation in recognition of his efforts in restraining the misguided
enthusiasm of the soldiery. Indeed, his action here almost atones for
the devilish tricks at Canterbury of "Blue Dick" Culmer.
Even the most casual observer, and one entirely unlearned in our
beautiful art, cannot fail to notice how large an amount of wall-space
is given over to ancient glass in York Minster. As a matter of fact it
covers an area of more than 25,000 square feet, easily double that in
any other English cathedral, and challenging comparison with any in
the world. Nor are the examples confined to one epoch, for there are
fragments of Norman mosaic medallions in the great transepts and the
vestibule of the chapter-house, Early English in the "Five Sisters" and
along the nave clerestory, Decorated in the nave and chapter-house, and
Perpendicular in the choir. Not only are these examples plentiful, but
they are of the first order. Entering by the door at the southern end of
the great transepts, one is at once confronted by the five tall lancets
opposite him in the north wall, filled with the most deliciously soft
greyish green grisaille. Of their type there is nothing in the world to
approach them for beauty. From where we stand the lead lines used in
construction do not exist as lines, but melt away into a dainty film,
like dew on the grass at morn. This set of lights is gracefully
grouped, and is known by the pleasantly familiar title of the "Five
Sisters." Many fanciful tales are told of when and where they were
constructed and how they received this name. Dickens in his "Nicholas
Nickleby" relates an engaging legend to explain how the design and the
name were provided for them. That this legend has no basis in fact
should not make us forget that his narrative has doubtless caused many
of his readers to visit these windows--a most excellent justification.
Dickens tells of five maiden ladies having worked upon a large piece of
embroidery and how, years later, when four of them met together in York
(the youngest, Alice, having been buried in the minster's nave), "They
sent abroad, to artists of great celebrity in those times (Henry IV.),
and having obtained the church's sanction to their work of piety, caused
to be executed in five large compartments of richly stained glass, a
faithful copy of their old embroidery work. These were fitted into a
large window until that time bare of ornament; and when the sun shone
brightly, as she had so well loved to see it, the familiar patterns were
reflected in their original colours, and throwing a stream of brilliant
light upon the pavement, fell warmly on the name of Alice." Those of our
company who are by nature critical may point out that the windows date
from the thirteenth century, not from the reign of Henry IV., and also
that they contain grisaille, not colour, and further, that being at the
end of the north transept, they could not very well throw a stream
of light into the nave! The writer urges leniency of criticism, but
nevertheless, one is forced to the melancholy conclusion that the great
Dickens could never have delighted his eyes by this splendid glass, else
he could not have made the windows coloured, or placed them in the
nave! As for the four surviving sisters, they are certainly open to the
severest censure in that they sent abroad for stained glass during the
reign of Henry IV., because there was then the highest development of
the art in England, and its product could not be approached by that of
any foreign contemporaries. Close inspection discloses the design of the
leads to be that of a graceful adjustment of the foliage of the benet
plant. At the bottom of the central light is observable a panel of
highly coloured mosaic glass. The glazing of the five small lancets
above is modern. We must turn to the nave to see the rest of the Early
English glass, of which, however, only fragments remain. They are to be
found along the clerestory, in all of its tracery lights on the south
side except the third from the west, and also some in its lower panes;
on the north side they are in the traceries of the second from the west,
the next five east of it, and also in the lower panels of the fifth and
seventh.
[Illustration: _F. Valentine, photo._
"FIVE SISTERS," YORK MINSTER
Softly-toned grisaille with delicate patterns in faint colour.
Of its type unsurpassed in the world. Note difference between
mellow strength of this glass and thinness of modern glazing in
upper tier of lancets]
The church of St. Dennis, Walmgate, has attractive panels of early
English glass dating from the latter half of the thirteenth century
inserted in two Decorated windows on the north side of the church.
An account of the Decorated glass at York will be found at p. 76, and of
that of the Perpendicular at p. 185.
DECORATED
Before crossing the threshold into the two next periods (the Decorated
and Perpendicular), it is worth pausing to notice that although
architecture generally tends to elaborate as time goes on, the opposite
was true in England during the two centuries of which we are about to
speak. In fact, the work of the earlier of these two epochs obviously
deserves the title of "Decorated" and the later does not. Its glass,
too, is much more florid than its successor, and is far more ambitiously
ornamental. It bears many bits of leafy foliage, twining vine tendrils,
&c., all drawn as true to life as possible. Later these bits of flora
are rarely used, and then only in a conventional and, therefore, less
decorative form. In our introduction we have stated that in England, the
arrival of the fourteenth century does not show the abrupt difference
found in France between the light-obscuring mosaic glass of the
thirteenth century and the fainter tints of the fourteenth, permitting
the brighter interior then demanded. The explanation seems to be
that the English, having been early forced by cloudy skies to use
light-admitting grisaille (either alone, or combined with their early
medallions) already enjoyed the proper illumination which, at the
beginning of the fourteenth century, was so lacking in France as to
bring about a cry for light at any cost. In place of the early
fourteenth century glare that strikes one at Sees, Evreux, and in St.
Ouen at Rouen, we have rich strong colour in their contemporaries at
Tewkesbury, Wells and Bristol. Occasionally grisaille will be found
pleasantly combined with small coloured scenes, as at Dorchester and in
Merton Chapel, Oxford, but even then it seems much like a local survival
of the thirteenth century tradition. So much for the difference between
the English Decorated and the French fourteenth century windows. Now let
us briefly consider what it was that succeeded to the mosaic medallion
style seen at Canterbury, Lincoln, &c., and also what causes must have
been at work to produce the change. About the end of the thirteenth
century there chanced to be discovered a method of producing yellow
which obviated the necessity of cutting out a piece of glass of that
tint and laboriously leading it into the picture where needed, as was
still obligatory if they wanted blue or red, &c. Some lucky glazier
stumbled on the fact that if chloride of silver be put on a sheet of
glass it would, when exposed to the fire, produce a handsome golden
stain, and that only at the points to which it was applied. Many
stories are related to explain this discovery, but as they are all more
pleasing than convincing, it seems best to credit Dame Fortune with this
valuable assistant to the glazier. It is obvious that this facility in
staining a touch of yellow just at the point desired by the artist was
eagerly seized upon. He at once made use of it to decorate the robes of
great personages, or to brighten the hair of women and angels, as well
as to liven any bits of stonework necessary to his drawing. It made
possible the development of an unimportant detail in the earlier windows
into the perfected result called the "Canopy window," which we shall
learn to know as a most useful and satisfactory combination of
decoration and serviceability. It will be remembered that from the
earliest times there frequently appeared above the heads of saints
certain conventional coverings meant to indicate an architectural
shelter. Upon the arrival of the Decorated period this detail became
more complete, the roof being fully depicted (although as yet in flat
drawing, with no attempt at perspective) and columns added at the side
to support it, thus completely enclosing the little figures in a niche.
Here we have the first, or Decorated canopy, now complete in form
although crude. It must be noticed, however, that these canopies,
generally drawn to a small scale, do not attempt alone to fill the
embrasures, and either are shown in bands across a ground of grisaille
or occur alone surrounded by grisaille. Their architectural portion is
of a strong brassy yellow, that colour being provided by pot metal glass
leaded in. Now comes the next and final development. The discovery of
yellow stain did away with the laborious need for leading in the yellow
bits to simulate stonework, so the limit as to size of the canopy was
removed, and at once they began to increase in dimensions. The obvious
result ensued, each canopy was made to fill an entire lancet, its
simulated stonework occupying as much surface as the enclosed figure,
and we have the logical whole of a decorative colour panel within
surrounded by a frame of lighter panes which admit the necessary amount
of illumination. So satisfactory did this style of window prove that it
persisted longer than almost any other type of glazing, and we must
remember it is the discovery of yellow stain that we have to thank for
making this result possible.
During the period we are now considering, the canopy was, of course,
rather crude, in fact it looked more like a sentry-box than anything
else. There was as yet no pedestal beneath it, and the pinnacles at the
top showed entire ignorance of perspective, as well as of drawing in
relief. During the Perpendicular period that followed, they did little
but elaborate this canopy idea, combining and softening the colours so
as to prevent jarring contrasts, and generally much improving the
logical combination of a coloured central portion surrounded by
light-admitting canopy framing. Without the use of yellow stain all this
would have been difficult, if not impossible, for without the little
touches of gold livening the grey stonework these canopies would have
been dull and unconvincing.
Nor was this the only novelty in the method of imparting colour to
glass. They now began to enrich their palettes by coating one colour
with another, thus getting a tint not before obtainable. For example,
red on blue gave a rich purple, blue on yellow a fine green, &c. This
was effected in a very simple manner. Suppose the glass-blower wanted a
purple--he dipped his pipe into liquid blue glass, and started to blow
his bubble. When it began to take shape he dipped the small bubble into
liquid red glass and then finished his blowing. This last dipping of
course coated the outside of the blue bubble with red, and when it was
completely blown, cut and opened out, it produced a sheet which was red
on one side and blue on the other. Held up to the light, the red and
blue combined to produce purple. Nor did the glass-blower confine
himself to combinations of two colours, for the writer knows of an
instance in France showing six superimposed coats. The French call this
"verre double" (or lined glass), a very descriptive name. In passing we
may say that although this manner of colouring glass first reached
prominence during the Decorated period, it was but an elaboration of the
way the ruby or red glass had always been made, _i.e._, coated on to the
colourless glass.
We have said that the earlier canopies did not have pedestals below
them. This lack was soon noted, and the need was felt for something to
complete them below; the first expedient hit upon for this purpose was
shields gay with heraldic tinctures. Not only were these decorative, but
we shall learn at Tewkesbury and Gloucester how valuable they have
proved to be in enabling those learned in heraldry definitely to date
windows whose histories have long since been forgotten.
It must not be overlooked that the architect had much to do with the
development from the mosaic to the canopy style. He decided to change
from the wide single windows that one sees at Salisbury, and to
substitute for them groups of narrower lights separated only by slender
stone mullions and all bound together at the top and tapered off by a
pyramid of smaller openings called tracery lights. These latter will be
particularly enjoyed by the glass-lover while studying this period, for
the Decorated glazier was singularly happy in his treatment of these
smaller panes--much more so, in fact, than his successor of the
Perpendicular era, who was obliged to conform to the stiff little
pill-boxes provided for him by the architect. The use of vines and
leaves was of great assistance in this problem of treating small
irregular openings; nor were these the only motives--at Wells there is a
very happy use of busts filling small trefoils.
Besides the canopy treatment, the English glazier of the Decorated
period was very fond of the Tree of Jesse theme, and, as is usually the
case with congenial tasks, obtained most satisfactory results. He used
it to great effect in his broad windows made up of several narrow
lights, separated by slender mullions. The very shape of these windows
invited this design, because a separate branch of the vine bearing its
little personages could be run up each lancet without disturbing the
coherence of the picture. The men of that time used the Tree of Jesse
nearly as much as did their fellow craftsmen across the Channel during
the sixteenth century. In France the descendants of Jesse almost always
appear as blossoms on the vine, but their earlier English prototypes
usually stand in small cartouches formed by convolutions of the vine.
This brings us to yet another reason why the Decorated glazier liked the
Tree of Jesse. We have already stated that he was much given to
introducing leaves, tendrils, &c., done in the natural manner, which, of
course, made him entirely at home in delineating the great vine rising
from the loins of the Patriarch. What success he achieved with this
style of window we shall judge for ourselves at Ludlow, Bristol, and
Wells.
A convenient touchstone for deciding whether a window belongs to this or
the next period is provided by an examination of the manner in which the
artist executed his shading. It was smeared upon Decorated glass, and a
close inspection will reveal the streaky lines. During the Perpendicular
epoch the shading was stippled on with the end of a brush.
To recapitulate, the distinctive features of the Decorated epoch may be
enumerated as follows:
1. Windows of several lancets, with tracery lights above them.
2. Decorative treatment of tracery lights.
3. Yellow stain.
4. Coated glass (several layers of different colours).
5. Deep rich colouring.
6. Canopies.
7. Use of leaves, vines, &c., copied closely from nature.
8. Tree of Jesse windows.
9. Shading which was smeared on.
DECORATED TOUR
Our Decorated tour will lead us far afield through the western part of
the beautiful English country. At the end of the Early English tour we
found ourselves in the interesting walled city of York. There we shall
also begin our study of the succeeding, or Decorated, period. We shall
next strike across to Norbury, in Derbyshire, then on to steep-streeted
Shrewsbury, and thence down through Ludlow with its church and ancient
castle, and stately Hereford beside the Wye to Tewkesbury, and its
ancient neighbour Deerhurst. Gloucester will be passed _en route_, and
then west to smoky Bristol, where the Severn meets the Bristol Channel.
From Bristol it is only a short trip south to Wells, then down to
Exeter, followed by a long one northeasterly to Saxon Dorchester, a few
miles from Oxford. This tour will end in that famous university town,
where, in like manner to the ending of the last tour in York, we shall
find ourselves able to begin the inspection of the next, or
Perpendicular, glass, without leaving the city.
YORK
An account of the Early English glass at York will be found on p. 57.
The Decorated glass in the cathedral is almost entirely confined to the
nave and the chapter-house (with the vestibule leading thereto).
Notwithstanding their early date, the nave windows are large and afford
more illumination than one would expect at that time. So much wall-space
is used for light apertures that of the entire height of ninety-nine
feet only thirteen feet of stone intervene between the bottom of the
clerestory windows and the top of the main arches. All this portion of
the edifice is dominated by the great west window, given by Archbishop
Melton in 1338, a splendid sheet (fifty-six feet by twenty-five feet) of
highly coloured glass, supported by curvilinear stonework. Its eight
lights retain their original glazing almost intact (as does also the
head of the door below). It is skilfully fitted to the elaborate pattern
of the supporting stone frame. First there is a row of archbishops, then
one of saints, and highest of all a line of smaller personages. The
[Illustration: MAP OF DECORATED TOUR]
windows in the west wall at the end of each aisle are of the same
period, and also display excellent workmanship, especially the
Crucifixion in the northern one. It should be remarked that all the
aisle embrasures but two, and all those of the clerestory but two,
retain their original glazing, and if to this we add the windows in the
west wall just described, it is clear that Winston was right in stating
that this nave contains the most perfect and extensive remains in
England of the early part of the fourteenth century. His studious
heraldic analysis of the first window from the east in the north aisle
yields him the conclusion that it was made in 1306 or 1307. He remarks
that the yellow stain there used to tint the hair of one of the
personages is the earliest instance he ever found of the use of that new
colour. Next this on the west is a very charming window given by Richard
Tunnoc, Lord Mayor of York, who died in 1330: above his effigy appears a
small reproduction of this gift window. This is perhaps the finest of
its type in England. It was in honour of the Bell-Founders' Guild, and
is appropriately ornamented by numerous bells in the borders as well as
other parts of the design. For the rest of the Decorated glass we must
go to the chapter-house and the vestibule which leads thereto. It would
be difficult to find a spot in which one becomes so thoroughly imbued
with the feeling of Decorated glazing as in this vestibule. Here we
have no distracting features from other periods. The tall, slender
lancets that light this L-shaped hallway are completely filled with
grisaille overrun with archaic figures and crude canopies, here
displayed to the greatest advantage. Passing through to the handsome
octagonal chapter-house, we are at first disappointed to notice that the
window facing us contains modern glass. Although this first glance is
unfortunate, one is soon consoled by observing that all the other six
have excellent Decorated glazing of the time of Edward II. and III.,
showing four bands of late medallions in colour drawn across a grisaille
background livened with occasional touches of red and blue. The
grisaille here leans to grey rather than to the usual greenish hue, and
moreover, the quarries are cut into irregular shapes, thus relieving the
monotony of the commoner diamond-shaped panes.
[Illustration: _F. Valentine, photo._
CHAPTER-HOUSE, YORK MINSTER
Note the grouping together, in each embrasure, of five narrow
lights below gracefully elaborated tracery openings. Later on,
in the Perpendicular period, these traceries lose their
individuality, become stiffly regular, and part of the window
below]
Even if the vast Minster were not one of the world's greatest
treasure-houses of glass, the many smaller churches of York would
provide ample grounds for its being included in this book of tours. So
numerous are these churches that, in several instances, there are found
to be more than one dedicated to the same saint, and therefore the
pilgrim will do well to note carefully the name of street or gate placed
after that of the saint's to indicate which one is intended. The most
interesting of these modest shrines is All Saints' (or, as it is
sometimes called, All Hallows'), in North Street. It alone is well worth
a visit to York. Not only is its Decorated glass in excellent repair and
in satisfactory quantity, but it evidences such careful attention to the
little touches which make a window successful that one concludes the
best artists must have been employed in its manufacture. For example,
the canopies in the eastern embrasure of the north aisle have pedestals
beneath them, a most unusual feature at that early date. Furthermore,
the scenes from the life of the Virgin are depicted in a very careful
manner, not only appearing in the three lancets below, but in the three
major lights of the traceries above, although not there surrounded by
canopies as below. Older than this window, but also typically Decorated,
is that at the east end of the south aisle. The brassy tint is more
noticeable in the canopies which run in two bands across its three
lancets, and the canopies themselves are cruder in drawing than those
just described, but are excellently illustrative of their period. These
two windows are assisted in their service of beauty by the fact that the
embrasures about them are not burdened with modern mistakes, but were
glazed during the Perpendicular period. Reference will be made to this
later glass further on (_see_ p. 188); although much more famous than
its earlier neighbours, it is not a whit more satisfactory. These two
sets contrive to set each other off in admirable fashion, and together
they effect a delightful illumination for this interesting church.
St. Dennis (Walmgate) has already been mentioned for its two Early
English panels (p. 63), but its chief interest lies in the really fine
Decorated remains. On entering you will not long be detained by the
fragments of Perpendicular canopies that are gathered into parts of the
central eastern window and two other embrasures, but will pass on to the
north aisle. The three most easterly windows in the north wall taken
with the eastern one of that aisle provide an excellent exposition of
the glazier's art during the epoch we are now considering. The eastern
one has a fairly well preserved Tree of Jesse, filling all of its five
lancets, except just along the lower sill. Note the green vine and the
use of many green leaves. Turning to the three lights in the north
wall we find the usual brassy canopies against a quarry background,
surrounded by a coloured border. The traceries, too, show the most
approved treatment of leaves, green vines, &c., as well as some small
heads. The diminutive kneeling donors on the quarry-panes below are very
interesting; note the pendent sleeves, and especially the tiny gift
window held up by one of these little people. It is upon the central
lancet of one of these windows that we find the two Early English
panels.
St. Martin-cum-Gregory boasts of ten windows of Decorated work, mostly
small brassy canopies enclosing coloured figures, all placed upon a
background of quarries. The best is that at the east end of the south
aisle; across its three lancets is carried a row of canopies larger than
then generally drawn--in fact, the space usually occupied by quarries at
the upper parts of the lights is here pre-empted by the lofty pinnacles
of the canopies; the quarries appear below, as usual, and upon them in
the two outer lancets are the small kneeling donors. Under the centre
canopy is St. Martin dividing his cloak with a beggar, and above in the
flowing tracery lights are kneeling angels. This window is rendered
especially brilliant by the generous use of red in the backgrounds.
There is also some unimportant Perpendicular glass in this church (_see_
p. 185).
NORBURY
Tucked away within the Peak of Derbyshire there is a "Happy Valley"
wherein, embowered in green woods and pleasant pastures, lie Chatsworth
and Haddon Hall, well known to and well beloved of all industrious
tourists. Sweeping around this valley as a protecting wall are rolling
hills, whose bare summits have their sombre treeless austerity clothed
by a mantle of purple heather. Not very far to the south of this
protecting girdle lies a little group of houses called Norbury, nestled
alongside a leaping stream that comes down from above. In the midst of
this hamlet stands a small church which knows not the industrious
tourist aforesaid, but to which we counsel the enlightened and eclectic
pilgrims of our company to repair. The chancel here is a delicious
morsel preserved for us out of the fourteenth century, complete,
enchanting. In its midst are stationed two splendid marble tombs, one
double, and both of the most exquisite workmanship. Upon them are
stretched the life-size effigies of the deceased, while along the sides
are sculptured in high relief angels supporting shields. Around the
walls runs mellow wood panelling, set off by carved oak stalls of great
beauty. To complete the picture the many windows which light the chancel
contain some of the finest Decorated pattern glass in England. Nor does
the quantity of it yield in any respect to the high quality. There are
four three-lanceted windows on each side, while a larger one of five
lights completely fills the eastern end. In those few parts of the
surface which have lost their original glazing, no attempt at modern
restoration has been made, but the space has been quite simply filled
with white glass. Across the pattern of the east window have been drawn
two bands of very light-hued figures (lacking the usual canopies) and
harmonising agreeably with the decorous tints of the background. Labels
appear above the heads. The figures in the upper row are slightly larger
than those below. Turning to the side windows, nothing of their type
could be more attractive than the graceful grisaille patterns pricked
out with points of colour and surrounded by broad borders which, in
diminished scale, are carried up, into and around the tracery lights.
Very satisfactory use of blue is made, and that, too, in an unusually
free manner. The heraldic blazons placed upon the panes add materially
to the charm of the glazing, and in very decorative fashion preserve the
names of the donors. Although a special emphasis has been deservedly
laid upon this altogether lovely chancel, the pilgrim must not leave the
church without a peep into the diminutive chapel that opens off to the
south. Here we shall see a cross-legged Crusader lying in effigy upon
his place of last repose. The light that falls upon him streams through
two small windows, one on the east and the other on the south, both
having three lancets. These lancets each contain a saint framed in a
Perpendicular canopy, while below, in the center, an armorial shield
separates two kneeling groups of donors. The southerly window shows the
father with two sons on one side, and the mother similarly attended by
her daughters on the other; while on the easterly lancets the father is
accompanied by no less than eight sons and the mother by five
daughters--a goodly company, and one which would have alarmed the
philosopher Malthus. Note the steeple head-dresses of the women, pendent
behind. "Tell it not in Gath" that this charming sanctuary lies hidden
away in Derbyshire, come away privately with us and enjoy its beauties
undisturbed--"Odi profanum vulgus et arceo."
SHREWSBURY
_"High the vanes of Shrewsbury gleam
Islanded in Severn stream;
The bridges from the steepled crest
Cross the water east and west._
_The flag of morn in conqueror's state
Enters at the English gate;
The vanquished eve, as night prevails,
Bleeds upon the road to Wales."_
So sang the "Shropshire Lad" (A. E. Housman) concerning that fair city
of the Welsh Marches, high-perched Shrewsbury. Most picturesque is the
fashion in which the river Severn knots itself about the foot of the
high peninsula upon which the town has been built, and to which access
is given by the two ancient bridges, named English and Welsh from the
direction in which they lead. The Kirkland Bridge is an addition of
modern times. Thoroughly mediaeval is the impression one receives as he
approaches and enters Shrewsbury. In the first place, the passage of a
bridge always affords an excellent adjustment of the traveller's mental
attitude; it lends a certain aloofness to the town on the other side.
It seems to say, "We are letting you across the natural barrier
established for us by this river; but remember, it is a privilege, and
not a right!" Directly we are arrived on the other side, there commences
the ascent of the steep streets, and on the way up there is unfolded
before us a series of old white and black half-timbered houses, which
will serve to complete the mental picture of those distant days when
protecting rivers and steep streets were not eschewed on the grounds of
inconveniencing the city's prospective growth. Safety was then vastly
more important than commercial convenience. That features hampering to
modern commerce were exactly suited to a border stronghold was proved by
the way this town withstood shock after shock of warring tribes, or
nations, or factions. In his play of _Henry IV._, Shakespeare tells how
the Prince of Wales here made his sudden transformation from dissolute
youth to resolute manhood by defeating and slaying Harry Hotspur, thus
in one day quelling the mutinous combination of the Scotch, the Welsh
under Owen Glendower, and the rebellious English Archbishop Scrope of
York. Quaint and ancient to the last degree is the flavour of this old
city, which has owned, first and last, thirty-one charters. Those
interested in half-timbered dwellings will do well to come here and
inspect their number, variety, and excellent state of preservation.
Perhaps the best are around Wye Cop, passed on the way up the steep
streets. The remains of the ancient castle and walls add still other
picturesque features to this artistically noteworthy town. An inspection
of St. Mary's Church brings home to us the fact that as this was a
fortress city, ground could not be spared to provide the usual Close
which so pleasantly surrounds most English churches; in fact, this
modest sanctuary is so set upon by other buildings that it seems almost
to shrink from public gaze. An outpost occupying a strategic position on
an embattled frontier required every foot of ground within its walls,
and could devote no space to artistic surroundings, even for a church.
St. Mary's is very rich in glass, and that, too, of varied epochs and
styles. Fortunately alike for that church and for us, the Rev. W. G.
Rowlands (Vicar from 1825 to 1850), was a discriminating collector of
stained glass. He secured not only the great St. Bernard window (of
which we will speak later), but also much of the other glass that
decorates the interior. We will begin our examination by inspecting the
large east window, which displays a fourteenth century Tree of Jesse in
the usual Decorated manner, of which we shall see prototypes at Ludlow,
Bristol, and Wells. Jesse is reclining across the bottom of three of the
lancets, the convolutions of the vine arising from him forming series
of oval enclosures in which appear his descendants. Note the skilful use
of the leads in providing the black outlines needed to draw the figure
of Jesse. In the row of panels below appear small figures of the donors.
The fine reds and blues are hurt by the use of too much green--a common
fault at that time. We must look to the nave windows (all of three
lancets) for the other glazing of that period. The middle embrasure on
the northerly side is beautified by the tasteful use of written scrolls,
which wind about the figures and the columns of simulated architecture.
Scrolls are also used in the next one to the east, but there they are
not so important a part of the decoration. On the southerly side of the
nave the embrasures nearest to the west and to the east have single
figures in canopy. That to the east displays shields below the figures,
a decoration which is absent in the western one. The central window on
this side dates from the sixteenth century, and is the best of that
period here. It contains three subjects in each side lancet, and two in
the central one. Such intelligent use has been made of the leads that
one concludes that the men who made the designs, and they who
constructed the window, were either identical or else worked side by
side. The result forms a pleasing contrast to the usual disregard during
the Renaissance for the decorative and useful purposes of the leads.
The most interesting and pleasing of all the windows is the large one of
three lancets on the north side of the choir showing fourteen scenes
from the life of St. Bernard, six in the central lancet, and four in
each of the side ones. Four more episodes from the same life are to be
seen in the middle one of the south aisle. This glass, originally in the
German Abbey of Altenberg, and then for many years in the vaults of St.
Severin at Cologne, was finally brought to London, where it was secured
for St. Mary's by the Rev. Mr. Rowlands. The designs are attributed to
Albrecht Duerer, but this is a common claim for German glass of that
time. The perspective throughout is good, and the colouring very
satisfactory. An unusual charm is added to the little figures by the use
of Latin labels issuing from their mouths. There are also inscriptions
below most of them, but these are frequently mutilated and misplaced. If
proof were needed that this glass was not specially constructed for its
present location, it is provided by the fact that the scenes do not
follow in their proper order. A field-glass can be had on application to
the clerk, and the use of it reveals many interesting and amusing
details. The second window on the east in the chapel, south of the
choir, has in its tracery-lights written music carried by angels. The
pilgrim will later observe a great deal of this in the Beauchamp
Chapel at Warwick. Although rare in England, it is rarer still in
France. A fine sixteenth-century Crucifixion scene, covering three
lancets, decorates the north window just off the north transept.
In the modest-sized east window of this transept are twelve small
sixteenth-century enamel panels placed on white, a demonstration of yet
another style of that later period. The rest of the glazing in St.
Mary's is either modern or so completely repaired with new glass as to
have lost all its ancient feeling. An inspection of this church would
not be complete without observing the fine wooden ceilings of both the
nave and the choir.
Devotees of the Ingoldsby Legends will remember that when the Great Dog
in the castle of "Bloudie Jacke of Shrewsberrie" was about to seize upon
Mary Anne, she vicariously appeased him with:
"A Shrewsbury cake, of Pallin's own make,
Which she happened to take
Ere her run she begun,
She'd been used to a luncheon at One."
Mindful of this dainty's historic existence, the traveller will
doubtless regale himself therewith, that product of the town being as
excellent and famous to-day as ever it was of yore.
From Shrewsbury our route lies southward over that centuries-old
battle-ground, the Welsh Marches. We shall find not only much
architectural beauty and fine glass, but also many inspiring memories of
the border warfare whose bitterness lasted so many centuries.
LUDLOW
Perched high in a strong position at a bend in the River Teme rises the
noble ruin of what was once the castle of Ludlow, visible from quite a
distance, no matter from which direction one approaches it along the
winding Shropshire lanes. It still retains enough of its ancient walls
and towers to demonstrate what valiant service it must have rendered in
keeping the turbulent Welsh back on their own side of the Border. Nor is
the note of war the only one that echoes from the early history of this
castle, for in its great hall was enacted for the first time Milton's
"Comus." After a brief visit to the castle let us wend our way to St.
Lawrence's Church in the town, for which an effective and judicious
restoration has revived much of its original charm. A diverting legend
relates that the arrow at the top of the north transept gable was shot
hither by Robin Hood from the Old Field two miles away. Although many of
the parishioners devoutly believe this to be true, it strikes the modern
traveller that the great outlaw must on that occasion have drawn a very
"long bow"! The ancient appearance of the fine hexagonal porch with the
room above it makes a most inviting entrance. We shall find our glass
in unusual parts of the church, nor is this the only unique feature
of the edifice. The Lady chapel is not at the east, but at the south
side of the chancel; in it is an interesting Tree of Jesse in the
approved Decorated method, very like the one we have just seen at
Shrewsbury. Unfortunately, the restorer has here been too thorough, but,
nevertheless, the pattern has been preserved, and also many of the
figures, for example, those just above the head and feet of Jesse.
He lies recumbent along the bottom of three of the five lancets
which compose the window, while above, in compartments formed by the
convolutions of the vine, are his descendants. In accordance with the
common practice, too much green was used. Although the chancel does not
as usual afford the greatest attraction in the way of glazing, we must
observe an interesting fifteenth century window in the middle of the
southerly wall. Its five lancets each contain three tiers of figures in
canopy, the details of which are much elaborated, especially in the
pedestals. Notice also the jewelled borders to the robes. The red and
blue glass is free from obscuring paint. Although our principal object
was the Decorated glass, this church would repay a visit because of the
Perpendicular glazing of the chapel of St. John which lies north of the
chancel, from which it is shut off by a beautiful fifteenth century
screen. The two most easterly windows in the north wall are much lower
in tone than either the very golden Annunciation which adjoins them on
the west, or the red, white and blue legend of Edward the Confessor and
the Palmers, which is round the corner in the east wall. This latter
dates from about 1430 and has two tiers of canopies across its four
lancets. There is here illustrated an absurd contradiction into which
this originally graceful style was developed;--within one of its
elaborately pinnacled shrines we find a ship! and under another a rural
scene with trees! most out-of-place substitutes for the customary and
appropriate saint. Let us return to the two low-toned windows in the
north wall, of which we have just spoken. The writer does not remember
ever having seen any similar to them. Each embrasure has three lancets
subdivided horizontally at the middle, making six spaces. The two
windows thus afford twelve panels, which are used to display the Twelve
Apostles. Local tradition says that there is here represented the
Council at which the Apostolic Creed was composed. Each holy man sits on
a bench behind a rail, but as they are drawn to a modest scale and
occupy each the centre of his panel, they are thereby so far removed
one from the other as to destroy utterly any appearance of a Council.
There is a great deal of soft-hued architecture throughout, but it is
used as background and not as a frame, thus differing radically from
typical canopies. A more satisfactory result would have been attained if
they had adhered closely to contemporary tradition, for here the
figures, low-hued as they are, start out too abruptly from the
over-spacious architectural background. The general effect is not that
of a series of gracefully framed Apostolic portraits, but of lonely
figures seated in empty halls. If for no other reason than that they
have provoked this criticism, these windows should be carefully
remarked, because they demonstrate how sound was the theory of employing
the architectural canopy as a light-admitting frame for the coloured
central figure. The east window of the south transept contains fragments
of fourteenth and fifteenth century glass from other parts of the
church. The wooden ceilings are well worthy of inspection.
HEREFORD
A very charming feature of English country life is the pleasure one can
derive from boating on the small rivers. Our American watercourses are
generally too wide or too turbulent to become such a domestic pet as we
all know the river Thames to be. To one who has not seen Boulter's Lock
on a bright Sunday, or who has never witnessed a Henley Regatta, that
most brilliant of all athletic spectacles, it would be difficult to
explain how thoroughly the Englishman enjoys and how constantly he uses
the opportunity which Father Thames affords for a short outing. Nor is
the Thames the only stream thus available. Small watercourses of the
same sort are to be found all over the country, and afford delightful
trips for those who are willing to travel in so leisurely a fashion. The
writer remembers with the keenest pleasure certain canoe trips, one of
three days from Bedford to Ely on the Ouse, another on the Stour, from
Sudbury to Manningtree, lasting two days, and a third of similar
duration from Petworth down the Rother into the Arun at Pullborough and
thence to Arundel. All the preparation necessary is to buy your canoe a
third-class ticket, put it into the luggage van at the railway station,
and set out for the point at which you wish to begin. Jerome K. Jerome
has immortalised a similar trip taken down the Thames from Oxford to
London. One of the most charming of all English river journeys is that
down the Wye. If one wishes to take a long trip, the start can be made
at Hay, thirty-four miles above Hereford, or perhaps better at Whitney,
twenty-eight miles above. The next stretch is from Hereford to Ross,
twenty-seven miles, and, if desired, this can be lengthened by
continuing on down to Monmouth, Tintern and Chepstow. The charming bits
of scenery that unfold themselves as this little river lazily winds down
the Welsh Marches are most varied and delightful. It must, however, be
admitted that it is only the middle section of this agreeable trip that
properly concerns one engaged in glass-hunting. We should, therefore,
content ourselves with the stretch from Hereford to Ross, twenty-seven
miles, if, indeed, we have the time to devote to this slow method of
travelling. Over by the river end of the peaceful town of Hereford is
the lovely green Close which lies about the sturdy reddish brown
cathedral. Few churches, even those of great size, give such a square
and solid impression as results here from the combination of the ruddy
tones of the building material and the early type of its architecture.
The defacing effects of an earlier restoration are being rectified by
the erection of a new west front, now almost completed. The massive
Norman columns that support the nave within, carry out in their grand
simplicity the sturdy promise of the exterior. Every division of the
church seems spacious, the ample transepts, wide choir aisles, and large
Lady chapel, completing the effect begun by the nave and choir. Indeed,
so commodious is the Lady chapel, that it is used as a parish church.
The cathedral has a number of interesting possessions, chief among which
is the large Mappa Mundi made in 1300, and showing the world as then
known. It hangs in the south choir aisle. The world is represented as
round like a plate, and in addition to the cities and countries marked
thereon, there also appear the fabulous animals which were then a part
of orthodox geography. It was about this time that there was written the
adventures of that famous traveller, Sir John de Maundeville, whose
voyages were only exceeded in extent by his imagination. His reports of
fabulous beasts, &c., are in excellent accord with the pictures on this
map.
The ancient glass here is somewhat limited, and is all of the Decorated
period. On the south side of the Lady chapel we shall remark two
windows, chiefly glazed in greenish grisaille, but each bearing four
coloured decorations placed one above the other. In one case these prove
to be geometrical designs outlined in colour, while in the other they
are small coloured groups, the topmost scene showing Christ, on a red
background, pointing upward. Glass even more typically Decorated is to
be seen in the eastern wall of the north-east transept, and again in the
most easterly embrasure of the south choir ambulatory. These windows
each contain four lancets surmounted by tracery lights, and in each
lancet is a coloured figure framed in an unusually lofty canopy--in fact
the latter is three times as high as the figure it encloses. Note the
brassy tone of the early golden stain used in the architecture. Modern
grisaille has replaced its ancient prototype, which, in accordance with
the conventions, surrounded these early canopies to increase the
light-admitting power of the embrasures. This glass was formerly in St.
Peter's Church, but about sixty years ago that church disposed of it for
L5 to a purchaser who presented it to the cathedral. Limited though it
be in amount, it will repay a careful examination.
TEWKESBURY
As one wanders through the streets of quiet Tewkesbury, the
half-timbered houses on every side lend it an Old World flavour that
most suitably prepares us for the sturdy Abbey, the dignity of whose
recessed west front is all in harmony with the mediaeval gravity so
characteristic of the place. It is as if that eloquently silent edifice
had never been able to shake off the sombre memories of the sanguinary
scenes enacted within it May 4, 1471, when, after the defeat of the
Lancastrians under the Duke of Somerset by Edward IV. in the "Bloody
Meadow" just outside the town, the slaughter of the wearers of the Red
Rose was not only carried on through the streets of Tewkesbury, but
even into the Abbey itself. An echo of this butchery is heard in
Shakespeare's _Richard III._, when the ghost of the murdered Prince
Edward (son of Henry VI.) appears to King Richard the night before the
fatal battle of Bosworth and cries out:
"Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow!
Think, how thou stabb'st me in the prime of youth
At Tewkesbury."
With what reproach must not that splendid row of fourteenth century
knights, victors over the French at Crecy, have looked down from the
windows of the choir clerestory upon this bloody violation of the rights
of sanctuary by those fifteenth century butchers of the House of York.
Indeed, these effigies of the earlier warriors were fortunate to have
escaped those later desperate struggles. The ravages of war do not seem
to have dealt so harshly with stained glass in this country as
elsewhere. A learned French contemporary of these tragic events,
Philippe de Comines, remarked this fact, and spoke of England as a land
where "there are no buildings destroyed or demolished by war, and where
the mischief falls on those who make the wars." Although Tewkesbury's
fame in history rests largely upon its having been the theatre of this
wild closing scene of the War of the Roses, it is not because of any
fifteenth century happening that we are moved to come here, but by
reason of the seven large windows of the preceding, or Decorated, period
which fill the choir clerestory. This is one of the few instances where
we shall remark the absence of the square eastern end so usual in
England. It is here omitted in favour of the rounded apse then prevalent
in France. Advantage has been taken of this unusual shape to throw out a
series of chapels around the chancel, which add greatly to the beauty of
the Decorated choir, and contrast sharply with the sturdy Norman nave.
The seven large embrasures that light the choir clerestory each contain
a group of lancets, five in every case, except in the most westerly
pair, where there are but four. Although the design is the same
throughout (a large figure in colour surrounded by a canopy frame),
these frames are differently occupied, those in the westerly pair
containing armoured knights, while in all the others are saints. The
depth of their colour scheme is due partly to the great quantity of rich
greens and reds used, and partly to the opacity of the panes depicting
the canopies. The figures generally occupy about one half the window
height, the rest being given over to the canopy. Below the feet of the
knights are their shields, which serve to provide the artistic balance
later obtained from pedestals. The same conventional attitude has been
assumed for all these warriors; each stands with his feet well apart,
his left hand on the sword by his side, the right hand on the hip,
holding up a sceptre. The pinnacles of almost all the canopies are
outlined against red backgrounds. Note the little rose windows
introduced in the upper part of the canopies. The most easterly window
provides a variation in that the enshrined saints are higher up on the
panes, thus making room below them for small groups consisting mostly of
naked figures, with flesh tints glazed in brown. The right-hand lancet
shows six kneeling figures praying, doubtless the donors. The borders
are carried up and around all the tracery lights, which are very
Decorated in form and do not yet show any hint of the stiffer
Perpendicular treatment to follow. Perhaps here more effectively than
anywhere in England shall we feel the warm colour-value of Decorated
glass, with as yet no tendency toward the paler tints that are to come
with the Perpendicular style. A similar warmth of tone is to be remarked
in the east windows of Bristol and Wells Cathedrals, and the writer is
moved to conjecture that the same glazier had to do with all these
three. This conjecture is not only based on the still undiminished
strength of colour throughout them all, but also on the marked
similarity in the drawing and tinting of a certain white vine decoration
upon a red ground, to be remarked in the upper tracery lights of
all three, and also in the traceries of certain transept windows
at Gloucester. Whoever this workman was, we feel his results so
satisfactory to-day that it would be small wonder if contemporary
appreciation caused his employment in these different towns.
[Illustration: CHOIR, TEWKESBURY ABBEY
A rare example of rounded apse, generally replaced in England by
a square ended chancel. Chief charm of these windows is their
rich colouring]
DEERHURST
Possibly some of our travellers are proceeding in so leisurely a fashion
that they may decide to sojourn a day or two in Tewkesbury. To them we
address the suggestion that they visit the adjoining town of Deerhurst
and see its venerable church. It is but a two-mile walk across the
fields, or a pleasant trip by boat on the Severn. It may, however, by
means of a small _detour_, be visited on the way to Gloucester. Although
it can boast of but little Decorated glass, that little is lodged in an
edifice of great interest, because it is the earliest dated one in
England. The obviously Saxon architecture, with its "herring-bone" and
"long and short" work, the window-tops composed of two slanting stones,
or else of arches cut from one piece--these unmistakable signs would
have told us that it antedated the Normans, but of such buildings there
are many in this country. Here, however, we have an exact date given us,
and, furthermore, the earliest known in all the land. A stone found here
(now preserved at Oxford) relates that this chapel was dedicated in
1056, and that Earl Odda caused it to be erected "in honour of the Holy
Trinity and for the good of the soul of his brother, Elfric, which at
this place quitted the body." It goes on further to say that "Bishop
Ealdred dedicated it on 12th April in the 14th year of Edward King of
the English." Two other early Saxon edifices of even more modest
dimensions lie close at hand. The ancient glass is contained in the four
small lancets of the west wall on the right as one enters, and is
obviously of the Decorated period. The most attractive bit is the small
panel showing St. Catherine framed in a canopy, holding her wheel in one
hand, and revolving it with the other. The background is red within the
canopy, but green outside, a very frequent adjustment at that time. In
both the upper and lower parts of these lancets are groups of three and
four kneeling donors, about eight inches high, with labels above them.
This glass has not always remained in its original embrasures, but,
fortunately, did not stray far. Its travels were cut short by a
gentleman who purchased it for L5 from an antiquary's shop in a
neighbouring town, and restored it to its early home. More important and
more beautiful sanctuaries will be encountered in our travels, but it is
well to have halted for even a brief time at this ancient Saxon fane, if
only to ponder upon how tenacious must have been the traits of those
early ancestors of ours, to have persisted to these modern days with
such vigour as to have made the adjective "Anglo-Saxon" so significant.
BRISTOL
Bristol is connected with London by the Old Bath Road. What memories
that name arouses of beaux and belles of stage-coach days, gaily
chatting to while away the fifteen-hour trip from London to Bath, or
furtively glancing out to see if bold Dick Turpin, or some gentleman of
his profession, be not lurking in the shadows of the trees, intent on
relieving the tired horses by lightening the passengers' luggage. This
stage-coach period is of peculiar interest to visitors from across the
seas, because it takes one back to old Colony days, and the War of the
Revolution. In England the improved facilities of travel provided by the
stage coach had much to do with advancing parliamentary government and
doing away with the system of "rotten borough" representation in
Parliament. Bustling and hearty days were those of the four Georges,
which produced a Prime Minister like William Pitt. In this progressive
era of railroad construction and stock manipulation, it is interesting
to read how Richard Palmer besought the Government to establish a
regular mail-coach service on the Bath Road, alleging the great profits
they could thereby secure, but really hoping in this way to increase the
profits of his theatre in Bath. After a long struggle he finally got the
ear of William Pitt. The service was established, and his subsidy (which
was to be regulated by the amount saved in carrying the mails) proved so
large that they cut it down to the lump sum of L50,000! The first coach
started on August 8, 1784. Nowadays it causes us to smile when we read
of the tremendous effect produced throughout the country by the news
that this coach left London at eight o'clock in the morning and arrived
at Bristol at eleven the same evening! Such unheard-of speed aroused
wide interest, and had much to do with the great success of Bath as a
fashionable watering-place. Bowling along this historic road we shall
only stop long enough at Bath to see the remains of the baths built by
the Romans, and the famous Pump Room, the scene of the triumphs of Beau
Nash, and many another. We may also take a peep into the small, but
fine, church whose great window surface has earned for it the title of
the "Lantern of the West." It will not detain us long because its glass
is all modern, except in the second embrasure from the west in the north
aisle, where seven shields surmounted by elaborately plumed helmets are
agreeably disposed across the five lancets. On we go out of Bath and
along the narrow valley of the Avon, twelve miles further to smoky
Bristol, squatted like a puffing Dutch burgher at the point where the
Severn empties into the Bristol Channel. Although the great shipping
industry that gave the town its early importance has of late years
diminished, it still retains enough to be an active port of trade. To
some fanciful folk the pall of smoke that hangs over the town may seem a
gloomy retribution for the fact that from the days of the Saxon and the
Norman down to the abolition of slavery, Bristol was the greatest port
in England for that nefarious traffic. Changing to a brighter subject,
this was the harbour from which John Cabot, the Anglicised Venetian, and
his son Sebastian (who was born here), sailed upon their voyages of
discovery across the little-known Atlantic.
The Mayor's Chapel contains some very interesting sixteenth century
glass, but as it was bought abroad and fetched here, it has not, for us,
the interest which we shall feel in the home-made Decorated windows of
the cathedral. Bristol Cathedral lacks the pleasing setting of foliage
and green lawns which one finds about almost every English church.
Indeed, in this respect, it is more like the famous French ones, which
nearly all rely upon architectural charm for their effectiveness.
Inside, the chief matters of interest are the great Tree of Jesse which
fills the east window, and the two large lights on each side of the
chancel. These side windows are glazed in grisaille upon which are
figures framed in canopy, two tiers, one above the other. The most
westerly embrasure of the southerly pair has in its upper row three
canopies which, taken together, show the martyrdom of St. Edmund. He is
within the central canopy, while those on each side contain archers
drawing their bows to shoot at him. The bent knees, the awkward pose of
the heads, &c., show the drawing to be most primitive. The tracery
lights are glazed in red, with white winding vines, and are remarkably
like the traceries at Tewkesbury. The Berkeleys, who gave this glass,
were related to the de Clares of Tewkesbury, so it is more than likely
that they employed the same glazier. The great east window is in a very
good state owing to its restoration in 1847 and is a graceful work of
the Decorated period. The erudite Winston concludes that as it does not
bear the arms of Piers Gaveston (murdered in 1312), and does show those
of Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford (slain in open rebellion against
his sovereign in 1322), the date of the window is probably about 1320,
which furthermore is borne out by internal evidence. This great window
rises above and behind the altar and has its nine lancets subdivided
into three groups of three each by two mullions which, as was usual at
that time, curve away from each other when nearing the upper part of the
embrasure. Although the subject is a Tree of Jesse, the patriarch
himself does not appear. The various branches of the vine rise
perpendicularly from the lower sill and are then gracefully intertwined.
The treatment of the personages is the same throughout, each being
enclosed by a loop of the vine. The 1847 restoration was so well done
that except for an occasional harsh note of colour in the robes, it
conceals its modern substitutions quite successfully. The lancets each
contain two figures, one above the other. It is fair to comment that the
encircling vine is rather too light to harmonise well with the figures
in the background.
After descending the hill, crowned by the cathedral, we cross over into
the other part of the town to see the fine church of St. Mary Redcliffe,
where, although there is but little glass, that little is arranged in a
unique manner. Each of the three easterly windows of the south transept
consists of three lancets. For each window there is provided a border
consisting of a series of fifteen small four-pointed openings fitted
over it in the shape of an inverted U. The glazing of these stars
reminds one of the ordinary Decorated treatment of tracery lights.
Within a narrow border is a red field upon the centre of which appears a
coloured boss from which radiate four leaves. The general effect is a
yellowish green. These windows date from about 1360. On the way out let
us stop in the north-west corner of the nave and notice in the north
wall a window filled with a collection of about eighty-five roundels and
heads, all helter-skelter, eked out with fragments from other
embrasures. The effect, though motley, is interesting. A window in the
westerly wall of this corner also contains _debris_, but here it is of
figures and canopies. This church, called by Queen Elizabeth "the
fairest, the goodliest, and the most famous parish church in England,"
is chiefly known for having been the literary browsing-ground of that
infant prodigy Thomas Chatterton, who announced that it was an old chest
in its muniment-room that yielded what he alleged to be transcriptions
from certain ancient Rowley manuscripts. So well were these forgeries
contrived that it took Horace Walpole, himself the constructor of an
imitation Gothic romance ("The Castle of Otranto"), to discover the
fraud. Although but seventeen years old when he committed suicide in
1770, Chatterton had already published a number of writings. No good
American should depart without a glance at the monument and armour of
Admiral Penn, father of our William Penn.
It will be no small relief to emerge from the smoky pall which hangs
over this enterprising city and escape again into the clearer atmosphere
of the charming English country.
WELLS
Off in Somerset, snugly tucked away at the foot of the Mendip Hills,
lies one of the most charming cathedrals to be seen anywhere, and, in
the opinion of Fergusson, certainly the most beautiful in England. The
fact that it has grouped about it more perfect ecclesiastical buildings
than any other church of its size, and also that the town which grew up
around is very interesting, combine to make Wells a peculiarly
delightful place. The distant prospects of it are very attractive,
whether you stand upon Moulton Hill and look toward its western facade,
or view the eastern end with the group of adjoining buildings from the
top of Thor Hill. Even when you have come down into the quiet town and
the cathedral is near at hand, the approach to it continues to be most
picturesque, first through a battlemented gateway in one corner of the
market square, and then across a lovely lawn shaded by fine trees. The
ample proportions of the rugged west front are saved from the appearance
of excessive breadth because of the perpendicular lines lent by the
buttresses built against it. A most attractive feature of this great
facade is the unusual collection of carved figures beneath canopies with
which, at the close of the thirteenth century, it was lavishly adorned.
There are over six hundred in all, carved of stone from a local quarry,
and originally gilded and coloured. Nearly all are of life-size, and
represent not only Biblical characters, but also kings and queens of the
Saxon, Norman, and Plantagenet dynasties. Within the building the scene
is one of exceptional splendour and beauty. Even what elsewhere might
prove ugly is here turned to artistic account, as, for example, when the
stability of the great central tower demanded a strengthening arch
across the nave at that point, it was rendered a decorative feature by
placing above it another arch inverted so that the lines should sweep
upward as well as downward. An odd and unusual position was selected for
the chapter-house--above and to the north of the chancel--and nothing
could be more delightful than the way in which the old stone stairway
bends gently up to it. East of the chancel is a fine roomy Lady chapel.
The entrance to this chapel is provided by the removal of the lower
third of the east wall of the chancel, the middle third being stone wall
with empty niches, and the upper third a great arched window of seven
lancets containing a Tree of Jesse in the Decorated manner, above
which, in the traceries, is shown the Judgment Day. This is known as the
"Golden Window," and Canon Church calls it "one of the most remarkable
in England for simplicity and harmony and richness of colouring, for the
force of character in the faces, and the stately figures in flowing
mantles of green and ruby and gold, like Arab chiefs; figures such as
some artists in the last Crusading host under Edward might have seen and
designed, and so different from the conventional portraiture of Bible
characters." Although this window is less lofty than the similar one at
Bristol, it does not seem so incomplete and cut off, because we have
here the recumbent figure of Jesse across the bottom of the five central
lancets, a feature lacking at Bristol. Another point of difference is
that the convolutions of the vine do not here enclose the seventeen
figures of the descendants, but instead they stand under canopies, of
which, however, only the topmost ones have pinnacles. The broad borders
have the same design throughout, viz., gold crowns alternated with
colour, which changes from red to blue in each successive lancet. The
backgrounds within the canopies also alternate red and blue, always
contrasting with the colour outside. Almost all the small personages
are draped in either green or yellow, and four have undergarments of
red. Though their colouring is splendid, the figures are rather too
crowded. The two most easterly lights on each side of the chancel are
contemporary with the east window--they are each of three lancets
and contain single figures, occupying about half the height of the
embrasure, and have no pedestals below them. So similar is the treatment
here to that at Bristol that it seems safe to assign the same date to
both (1320). The tracery lights around the choir ambulatory still retain
their Decorated glazing. To the right and left just before we enter the
Lady chapel are single windows containing fragments of ancient glass.
The Lady chapel itself is finely illuminated by five large windows of
five lancets each containing figure and canopy work. One should remark
the unique pedestals consisting of golden lions or bears surmounted by
the characteristic ball-flower ornament. Very interesting, also, are the
tracery lights, which consist of pyramids of small trefoil openings,
four at the base, then three, then two, then one. They are reminiscent
of the tracery lights of the Lichfield Lady chapel, but here the glazier
has been more adroit in the use of his opportunities. Instead of putting
a head alone in each opening, he has availed himself of the broader
space at the bottom to put in the shoulders as well. These little busts
adjust themselves admirably to the trefoils. Although the glass which
once filled the octagonal chapter-house is all gone save that up in the
traceries, those remnants are of interest because the disposal of the
designs against the red backgrounds is reminiscent of the work at
Tewkesbury and Gloucester. The great west window of the nave has
seventeenth and eighteenth century glass at the sides, and in the centre
a fine sixteenth century French panel showing the beheading of St. John.
This bears the date 1507 and a Gascon inscription, and was bought by
Bishop Creyghton during the time that he was sharing the exile of
Charles II. on the Continent. This provokes the comment that not only
is there a small amount of sixteenth century glass in England, but
curiously enough much of it proves upon inspection to have been made
across the Channel. Before leaving this noble interior one should notice
a feature of quaint interest. In the south choir aisle stands the
monument to Bishop Bytton (1524), long renowned for his cures of
toothache. After his canonisation this tomb was resorted to by pilgrims
seeking relief from that malady, and so famous were the cures that we
find carved upon the capitals of piers on the west side of the south
transept, and again in the north transept, little men whose sufferings
from toothache are reproduced in the most detailed and dramatic manner.
[Illustration: "GOLDEN WINDOW," WELLS CATHEDRAL
Notice graceful setting, permitting a glimpse through into the
Lady Chapel beyond. The large Tree of Jesse rising from the
loins of the Patriarch is portrayed in colours of almost
barbaric richness]
No matter by which road we leave Wells, one should look back more than
once to enjoy the charming views of the cathedral and its Close.
EXETER
In travelling about England one is struck by how greatly the colour of
the building-stone varies. One sees greenish grey around Tavistock in
West Devon; golden brown in the country just north of Oxford;
silver-grey in many parts of Yorkshire, &c. &c. One might continue to
enumerate instances, but in the end the most marked of all would surely
be the red seen about Exeter. Not only are many of the edifices built of
this ruddy stone, but the earth in any ploughed field thereabouts shows
the same unusual colouring. The Normans must have been struck by this
fact, for they called the hill on which they built their castle
"Rougemont." In view of this marked peculiarity of the Exe Valley, it is
noteworthy that the exterior of the rugged cathedral, with its mighty
transeptal towers, is blackish grey. Within, it shows the reddish hue
which one would expect hereabouts, but outside is similar in tone to
Westminster Abbey. If one be so whimsically-minded as to group
cathedrals by colour, one must class Exeter with Peterborough as black,
while Lincoln will be golden brown, York and Canterbury soft grey, &c.
&c.
Very fine as well as decorative glass is to be seen in this cathedral.
It fills the east window, and another near it in the north choir
clerestory, as well as a large window in each of the chapels that close
the easterly end of the choir aisles. These charming little chapels are
each reached by an entrance from the choir ambulatory, and are only
separated from the Lady chapel between them by a light screen. The east
window of the northerly chapel has five lancets, although the glass was
seemingly made for one of six, the number which still exists in that of
the southerly chapel. The treatment in both is the same, a handsome and
well-balanced combination of quarry-panes relieved by gaily-tinted
heraldic shields, and all surrounded by coloured borders. In the
northerly chapel there has been introduced into the central lancet a
Decorated panel, showing a kneeling chantry priest within a canopy
praying for the donor. This appears to have been removed hither from the
chapter-house, where there still remain a couple of similar panels. The
two windows just described are excellent examples of one of the glazing
methods of the epoch, while of still another style (the figure in
canopy), equally good ones are above in the choir clerestory, the fourth
from the east on the north side showing in each of its four lancets a
figure under a canopy with a shield of arms at the feet. It is
practically complete, except that the shields have lost their heraldic
bearings.
[Illustration: EAST WINDOW, EXETER CATHEDRAL
Perpendicular stone frame glazed chiefly with very typically
decorated figure-and-canopy glass preserved from the earlier and
smaller window. Below and beyond appears the Lady chapel]
The archives tell of a large purchase of glass in Rouen in 1301 and
again in 1317 for use in this cathedral. Much of these purchases is
still to be seen in the large east window. Here we are struck by a
strange anomaly of obviously Decorated glass in purely Perpendicular
masonry. Nothing could be more distinctive of the later period than the
Perpendicular mullions surmounted by stiffly upright tracery lights,
and yet the glazing could not be mistaken for anything but Decorated.
Evidently old wine has been put into new bottles. Although a great deal
of restoration is noticeable in this window, the strongly brassy tone of
the canopies in the three outer lancets on each side clearly indicate
that they antedate the discovery of yellow stain. An explanation of this
anachronistic clash between the glazing and its framing stonework
appears upon the rolls of the Chapter. April 21, 1389, one Henry de
Blakeborn, then Canon, moved by the fine appearance of the newly
constructed west window, offered 100 marks towards properly enlarging
the eastern one. This offer was accepted and the work at once put in
hand. The glazing of the earlier east window was saved to put into the
new and larger embrasure. As yellow stain was not known at the time of
glazing the first east window, it is absent from the early glass,
although it is plentifully used in the heads, &c., of the additions made
necessary in 1389 by the increased size of the window. One must not
quarrel with the judicious restoration which has preserved so charming
an _ensemble_. But this indulgent mood will be abruptly dismissed when
one examines the lights along the north side walls of the choir aisles,
for here the colour in the patterns upon the white panes proves to be
Decorated glass cut up into bits for this purpose by some modern
glazier! Any further comment upon his taste is unnecessary. It is one of
the instances which causes one to query if it be always wise to impose a
punishment for murder!
DORCHESTER
Before setting out upon our journeys we stated that although the viewing
of stained glass was our main purpose, we intended to be broad-minded
and enjoy whatever other interesting sights might be encountered. When
we approach the little hamlet that "Dorchester ys ycluped, that bysyde
Oxenford ys" those of our company learned in archaeology will doubtless
point out the Dykes, those two great parallel earthworks twenty feet
high, separated by a dry fosse twenty yards wide, which run for a
distance of 900 yards round the south side of the town, from the banks
of the Thames to those of the little Thame. Our archaeological friend
will not need to point out how strong a defence was provided for the
ancient Briton by these walls and the two rivers, but he will doubtless
earnestly set forth many arguments for and against the theory that this
fortification was an outpost of the entrenched camp on Sinodun Hill near
by. The writer well remembers how strongly these Dykes impressed him
when he first saw them years ago. In company with two friends he was
rowing down from Oxford to London, and having arrived at Dorchester
after sunset, stopped there to spend the night. Early in the morning, on
our way down to the boat, we came upon these earthworks overgrown with
yellow wheat and red poppies sparkling with dew. Instantly one forgot
the dull modern village, and went back in fancy to the days when these
great lines of earth were thrown up to protect the early owners of this
land, later to be so often harried by conqueror after conqueror. The
greatest glory of Dorchester came much later, in fact even after the
centuries of Roman occupation had come to an end and the last legions
had left England for ever. It was under the rule of the West Saxons that
Dorchester became the seat of a Bishop whose See was so important that
it included all those now known under the names of Winchester,
Salisbury, Exeter, Bath, Wells, Lichfield, Hereford and several others.
The exact date of the present long stone church is not known, but it is
generally believed to be about 1150. The interior will provide but
little of interest that one does not often see in many another old
English church, but a glance toward the eastern end reveals that some
architect of the Decorated period there added a veritable bower of
light. One must search far and wide to find so pleasing a combination of
excellent glass, disposed in such light and noteworthy stone traceries.
The walls which enclose this chancel on the north, east and south are
nearly of equal length, but the architect's treatment of each is quite
different. That to the east seems almost entirely of glass, so greatly
has the builder subordinated his stone structure to the glazing. In
fact, so much is given over to the glazier as to necessitate the
erection of a stout buttress which runs up the centre, and without the
assistance of which the slender mullions would be unable to support so
great a weight of glass. This buttress stops about three-fourths of the
way up the window, the explanation of which is that the original roof
was lowered to this point, and it was not until 1846 that it was again
elevated to its original height, making necessary the modern glass in
this restored portion. Very graceful is the adjustment of the cartouches
into which the stone mullions divide the entire surface, and also the
way in which they tend to become pointed in the upper part of the
embrasure. Within each one we find evidence of the beginnings of the
canopy style which was destined soon to emerge from the cramped methods
of the glazier here visible. Upon the four lancets of the northern
window appear large figures displaying much more freedom of drawing. Our
first criticism tends to be that they would be more attractive if they
had some background or framing and were not stationed alone upon white
panes. The reason for this appears from a close inspection of the
supporting mullions. Along each of these are little carved figures.
The writer believes this window to be unique in the respect that
the carvings on the stone and the figures on the panes combine to
form a Tree of Jesse. Jesse, as usual, is reclining below; the stone
mullions are used to represent the branches of the vine, and at their
intersections are disposed the descendants, much as we have often seen
them depicted on glass. They hold scrolls on which probably their
names were once painted. The figures on the glass (some of them still
labelled) supplement those in the carvings. Carved figures are also
freely introduced at the intersections of the stone mouldings of the
east window, but here they represent New Testament episodes, such as the
cutting off of Malchus's ear, the rousing of the sleeping guards, &c.
So, too, along the transom that runs across the southern window are
carved figures representing a religious procession. Above are coats
of arms distributed upon the panes. Below is a handsome Gothic stone
seat or sedilia which has for us a great interest in that four little
star-shaped lights are let into the back of it, containing late twelfth
century medallions. These earliest remains were doubtless preserved from
the edifice which preceded the present one. One of them shows a scene in
which appears St. Birinus, who converted the great kingdom of Wessex and
was the first Bishop of Dorchester (635-49). This little chancel, with
its delightful glass gracefully supported by the quaintly carved stone
traceries, will remain in one's memory as one of the loveliest nooks in
England for the glass-lover.
OXFORD
Probably there is no city in all England where the average American
tourist feels more at home than at Oxford. All of us have read a great
deal about this city of colleges, and most American boys have perused
"Tom Brown at Oxford" more than once. Besides, we all feel an interest
in colleges and college men. While many realise the charms of this
ancient city of learning, some of us know them in great detail; we have
wandered in the lovely gardens of Magdalen, of New and of Worcester; we
have heard the shouting of the multitudes along the banks of the Isis
when one eight has succeeded in bumping another just ahead; we have
canoed up the silent tree-shaded windings of the Cherwell--in a word, we
are familiars of the place. Apart from its life as a university, as a
city of students, its chief association in history may be said to be
that it was a refuge and stronghold of the ill-fated Charles I., after
his defeat at Edgehill. It was admirably suited for this purpose,
because rendered well-nigh impregnable by the encircling streams of the
Isis and the Cherwell, the surrounding morass of flooded fens, and,
last of all, its stout city walls. Right loyally did both townspeople
and students rally to the support of the unfortunate monarch. The
colleges even melted down their plate to eke out his military chest. Of
all the towns of England it can, therefore, best lay claim to having
been the most loyal to the fortunes of Charles Stuart at a time when
loyalty meant most. But it is not for reminders of that dreadful civil
strife, terminated by bloody tragedy, that we are coming to the ancient
town built on the river near the "ford of the oxen," no, our researches
lie a couple of centuries earlier than those bitter days. First of all
we shall enter Merton College to see its windows of the first part of
the Decorated period. Then we will repair to New College to view its
glass so instructive of the transition from Decorated to Perpendicular.
Lastly, All Souls' Chapel must be inspected for its examples of the
Perpendicular style. In many another college can be seen later glazing,
but none so good or so important as those just cited. The presence
here of such fine examples of the two best periods of English glass
makes easy an instructive comparison of their methods and results.
Furthermore, it justifies the selection of Oxford as the last stage of
our second tour, because we have only to step from one college into
another to begin our third tour.
Not only do the most ancient traditions of all Oxford linger about
Merton, but it looks the part--it conveys the impression of its extreme
age to any one who enters its gates. Mob Quad is the oldest quadrangle
in the whole University. Bishop Walter de Merton, Chancellor of Henry
III., devised the idea of segregating the students into colleges, so as
to govern them better, and to render more difficult, if not impossible,
the general lawlessness and bloody frays between nationalities that used
to be so frequent. A visit to the chapel will not only show us glass of
the early part of the Decorated period, but in such quantity and so well
placed as to give one the best possible impression of it. The large east
window is filled with modern glazing, only the upper half of the
traceries above retaining the original red and blue diaper work. In
addition to this great embrasure, the choir is lighted by seven ample
three-lanceted windows on each side. These are filled with grisaille
bordered in colour, while across them, about two-thirds of the way up
from the bottom, is drawn a band of strongly hued canopied figures.
Because of their early manufacture we are not surprised to find the
canopies very crude, lacking pedestals, &c. The enclosed backgrounds are
generally blue, although a few toward the east are red. In the central
lancet of each embrasure the canopy usually contains an upright figure,
while in the side lancets they are almost all kneeling. Each personage
has a written label which either winds gracefully over his head and down
behind his back, or runs along beneath him. The borders are not carried
up into the traceries; their design is sometimes a vine, sometimes
yellow castles, or fleur-de-lis of white or green. In addition to the
band of canopies, the duller grisaille is further enlivened by three
coloured bosses in each lancet, mostly containing heads. The western end
of the choir opens into the antechapel, which lacks its ancient glazing
except for the fragments gathered together into the central western
embrasure, whose original tracery glass, however, remains intact. Before
leaving Merton mount the stairs to the quaint L-shaped library and
inspect its attractive remains of Renaissance glass. Along the lower
side of the east wall of the north wing are seven narrow lancets filled
with dainty grisaille quarries, bordered in faint colour and bearing a
brightly toned boss. Of more importance to us, however, is the pleasing
bay window at the east end of the south wing. Here we find quarries of
soft grey, each containing a monogram in yellow stain. In the midst of
these quarry panes are placed little scenes, circular in form and
decorated with enamel paint in grey and stain, each bearing a German
inscription. The central embrasure contains six of these, three above
and three below, and the two side bays have two each, one above the
other. They bear the date 1598.
An account of the Perpendicular glass at Oxford will be found at p. 142.
PERPENDICULAR
Little proof is needed of how greatly the glazier depended upon the
architect, or of how necessary and proper it was that his glazing should
harmonise with the prevailing architectural style. The period we are
about to study affords a striking example of this subserviency of the
window to the building it lights. In no country can there be found a
school whose glass was so dominated by its architecture as was that of
the Perpendicular in England. This Perpendicular style never crossed the
Channel, for the French Gothic of that time, instead of becoming stiff
and regular, grew more flamboyant and elaborated. Another marked
difference is that all the time the English were softening their tints
and striving for a silvery sheet of low tones (Great Malvern, &c.), the
fifteenth century French were, on the contrary, using stronger and more
varied colours than during the century before. To such excellence of
delicate drawing and tints did the English attain in their Perpendicular
windows that it may safely be said that in those respects they were
never surpassed elsewhere. This is particularly noticeable at Ross and
Cirencester. An opportunity to compare the French with the English glass
of that time is afforded by the fact that the French windows of the
Beauchamp Chapel at Warwick will be visited between the distinctively
English ones of Great Malvern and York. This Warwick glass was brought
from France because the contract exacted "Glasse from beyond the Seas,"
and we at once notice the strong hues, which differ so markedly from the
then prevailing English ones. Nothing could be more convenient than the
way in which these particular windows enable us to differentiate between
contemporary glass on opposite sides of the Channel.
When the Perpendicular architect arrived upon the scene, he found the
canopy window already well developed. The shape of the embrasures which
he provided were peculiarly suited to this agreeable method of glazing.
The straight upward sweep of his mullions made easy an effective
adjustment of the narrow canopy-framed niches, and left the artist
little to do but elaborate the more modest sentry-box of the Decorated
period. This he did in a very artistic and pleasing manner. The signs of
development are easily distinguishable, and chief among them are the
elaboration of the architectural detail of the canopy (by increasing the
number of pinnacles and drawing them in relief instead of flat), and
the completing of the frame effect by adding elaborate pedestals below
the feet of the figures. We must remember that the earlier glazier
either placed nothing below the enframed figure or else, in a few
instances, heraldic shields (as at Tewkesbury). In many instances the
earlier solitary figures within the canopies now give way to groups,
although not so frequently as in France. The glazier did well to abstain
from this change as much as possible, for although it is logical to find
a saint within a shrine, nothing could be more absurd than to install
therein a rural scene or a small battle picture. The Perpendicular
architect, unlike his Decorated predecessor, was not content to leave
the tracery lights differentiated from the rest of the window below.
Instead, he tied the upper and lower lights together by carrying his
mullions straight up through them all, and thus deprived the tracery
ones of the independence as well as the decorative success they formerly
enjoyed. In a few instances (as at Great Malvern), the glazier
accentuates the stiff regularity of these upper lights by filling each
with a canopy-enclosed figure. Lest the upright parallel lines of the
mullions lend too monotonous an appearance, care was generally taken to
make two of them (usually thicker than the others) swerve outward when
nearing the top of the embrasure, one to the right and the other to the
left. These two thicker mullions served the further artistic purpose of
breaking the line of tall lights into groups of two or three each. This
can be observed in the illustration.
The chief features of this school are as follows:
(_a_) Increasingly lighter and softer tones;
(_b_) Stiff parallel lines of upright mullions;
(_c_) Tracery lights lose their independence;
(_d_) Greatly elaborated canopies;
(_e_) Stipple shading, replacing the earlier smear shading.
It can be said with no fear of contradiction that we have now arrived at
the finest period of English glazing.
PERPENDICULAR TOUR
Our Decorated tour was brought to a close by viewing the glass of that
period in Merton College at Oxford. Not only shall we be able to begin
our new tour in that same city, by inspecting the fully developed
Perpendicular windows at All Souls', but we are also afforded an
opportunity, thanks to the transition character of the New College
windows (1386), to learn the intermediate steps through which the change
of style was effected. On leaving Oxford, we will betake ourselves to
the famously glazed church at Fairford, and thence journey, _via_
Cirencester, to Gloucester. The next point will be Great Malvern and its
neighbour Little Malvern, and then over the bold uplift of the Malvern
Hills to Ross. A northerly _detour_ will take us first to Warwick and
then to Coventry, which will probably conclude this tour, for although
York appears as the last of this series, it is so placed for the sake
of regularity, and only for those who may not have taken the first or
second tours. York was visited on both of those, and occasion was given
to inspect the Perpendicular glass which there abounds.
[Illustration: MAP OF PERPENDICULAR TOUR]
In addition to the places just mentioned there are three so situated as
to make it inconvenient to include them in this tour--Salisbury,
Winchester, and St. Neot (Cornwall). Salisbury has already been visited
on our Early English tour. Winchester lies well to the south near
Southampton, while St. Neot is off in the west, a few miles beyond
Plymouth. These two towns should, however, be on no account omitted,
even though each require a separate trip.
OXFORD
An account of the Decorated glass at Oxford will be found at p. 129.
Having visited Merton, and, by examining its Decorated glass, concluded
our second tour, we must address ourselves to the third one, devoted to
the Perpendicular period. Nothing could be easier. We have only to walk
as far as New College to see how the forces of transition performed
their work, and then to All Souls' Chapel to study the fully fledged
product of the Perpendicular glazier.
New College is picturesquely alluring to all who visit Oxford, thanks to
the agreeable manner in which the college buildings are set off by
attractive gardens enclosed within remnants of the ancient city walls.
This corner of the old ramparts owes its preservation to a covenant for
its upkeep between the Founder and the city. We glass-lovers will remark
that in similar fashion a very advantageous placing enhances the beauty
of the glass which we are about to see. It is contained in the
antechapel, which adjoins the chapel proper on the west and opens into
it. A dim passage-way leads to the small portal by which one enters,
admirably preparing our eyes to appreciate the beauty of the glazing.
There is also some later work in the main chapel, but it is fortunately
shut off from our observation by a conveniently placed screen, thus
enabling us to enjoy the antechapel and its glazing without any
distraction. The original glass that once filled the large window in the
middle of the antechapel's west wall is now stored in boxes at that
other foundation of William of Wykeham, Winchester College, Winchester,
having been removed to make room for an ambitious effort by Sir Joshua
Reynolds. All the other embrasures retain the original glazing, given
about 1386 by the Founder, whose name frequently appears thereon. Let us
not be drawn into the violent discussion which has so long raged on the
subject of the rival merits of the earlier and later glazing. All
glaziers condemn the work of the great Sir Joshua, and even most art
critics agree with Horace Walpole that the painting of this large
subject is "washy." He has confined himself to the use of browns, greys,
and some pink in depicting the Virtues and the other figures assembled
in his composition; but, as was to be expected from one who was only a
painter, and not also a glazier, he used so much paint as to interfere
perceptibly with the translucence of the glass. Nevertheless, the
writer, although he vastly prefers the earlier windows, frankly states
that he began by liking the west one best. The advantage which stained
glass windows have over paintings on canvas is that while the latter
have only colour the former have both colour and light. For this reason
one should be disposed to admit a great deal on behalf of this picture
painted by a great artist on a medium which adds light to his colour.
There is no good reason why we should quarrel with a man who begins by
preferring Sir Joshua's window, because it may lead him to become
interested in stained glass. Almost every one unlearned in our subject
admires this west window;--if he will but come with us we will promise
sooner or later to open his eyes to far greater beauties, which he will
grow to love in the seeing! For those who have learned to enjoy the
Wykeham windows more than their showier neighbour, it is suggested that
there are two points from which to view them so as to eliminate the
contrasting presence of the later one--either stand close to the small
entrance door, or else near the chapel screen so that one of the columns
comes between you and the west window. Thus one sees only the Wykeham
glazing, and that, too, in a frame of mind receptive of the Latin
legends which unceasingly beseech us to pray for him. This glass is
not only beautiful, but very important, because it clearly illustrates
the transition from the Decorated to the Perpendicular. The sixty-four
personages ensconced in their canopies, while possessing traits of both
schools, demonstrate clearly how naturally one led into the other. The
figures are not yet well drawn, are rudely posed, and are still strongly
coloured. Although there is a general flatness in the composition,
indicative of the earlier school, tapestries are already hung across the
backs of the little niches, and handsome ones too, with crowned initials
powdered over them. So, too, pedestals appear below the canopies,
although, of course, not yet so complete or elaborate as those to be
seen presently in All Souls' Chapel. The canopies themselves are more
robust and not so finished as will be later encountered. An examination
of the method of shading also bears witness to a transition, for there
is observable both smear and stipple work. The learned Winston makes
a very interesting argument to the effect that the panels have been
considerably changed about since their original placing, based on the
seemingly disordered arrangement of the six varieties of canopies, the
unusual order of displaying the Apostles, &c. For us who are less
enlightened, however, the chief interest of this delightful series is
in the general harmony of the colour scheme, the judgment shown in
adjusting the figures to the canopies, and both to the embrasures, and
the graceful use of the written scrolls.
[Illustration: _Taunt, photo._
NEW COLLEGE ANTECHAPEL, OXFORD
Transition window presented by William of Wykeham, Founder of
the College. Stone frames are already Perpendicular: note the
"pepper-box" tracery lights. The glazing, as usual, lags behind
the architecture, and, because of its strong colour and flat
drawing, is more Decorated than Perpendicular]
The dining-hall possesses some interesting coats of arms glazed into
seven of its large lights. Half of these are contemporaneous with the
Founder, among them appearing his arms and those of his See; the other
half are of the time of Henry VIII.
From "the High" we enter All Souls' College, undaunted by the scathing
comment of Humphrey Prideaux in 1674, that "All Souls' is a scandalous
place and full of fast gentlemen." Without stopping to remark the beauty
of the full-domed Radcliffe Library, rising beyond the graceful stone
screen that walls in the westerly side of All Souls' inner quadrangle,
we press on to the chapel at the further end. We shall not spend much
time over the windows of the chapel proper, for they contain nothing of
interest, but for this there is ample compensation in the splendid
display all about the antechapel that opens off to the west. It is true
that some of the panels have been restored, but this has been done so
judiciously and patterned so closely after the originals that it is not
only no detriment, but, on the contrary, enables us to enjoy a completed
whole. As was to be expected, figures within canopies meet our eyes on
all sides. Owing to the date of their manufacture, the depicted
architecture of the shrines is very elaborately worked out. Pedestals
are provided, and in the westerly embrasures we find small supplemental
and supporting canopies on each side of the principal ones, which
latter, however, alone contain figures. These western lights show more
restoration than the others. There is a great deal of red and blue
everywhere, not only in the backgrounds, but even in the pedestals
below. The four large windows (each containing a double row of three
lancets) in the easterly wall are, perhaps, more interesting than their
more elaborate neighbours. Especially note, in the one just north of the
choir entrance, the charming group of Salome and two children in the
lowest panel on the left. Most pleasing of all is the scene of St. Mary,
with two children in her arms and two more at her feet, in the
right-hand lowest panel of the most northerly of these east windows. The
glass here is so conveniently placed as to afford every facility for
studying details, thus preparing us admirably for the highly interesting
tour upon which we are about to set out.
FAIRFORD
Lying in the midst of a pleasing but tame countryside the little
village of Fairford has nothing to recommend it to the seeker after
the unusual but the windows of its parish church. This glass is not
only historically famous, but also very complete and beautiful. On the
outer side of the little church door we are still in the midst of the
commonplace, nothing rises above the level of the unimportant; once
inside that modest portal, what a change do we not experience! Around us
on every side and above in the clerestory opens out a complete series
of windows--harmonious, excellent, delightful! And to add unneeded
supplement to the charm that meets the eye, our ears are regaled with
the strange tale of how these lovely panels found themselves here, and
why they so perfectly fit the church. This latter query is answered most
simply--the church was built to provide embrasures for these treasures.
The records state that Richard Tame caused the building to be erected
and finished in 1493 expressly for this glass, which had been captured
at sea from a Dutch vessel. From the same source we also learn that his
son, who died in 1534, completed the building--a rather anomalous
statement for, if it was finished in 1493, it would not seem to have
needed a further completion by the son. It is to the windows themselves
one must turn for some explanation of this seeming contradiction.
Although but little comment has hitherto been made upon the subject,
the writer was struck by the lack of any similarity between the
figure-and-canopy windows in the western half of the church (including
the clerestory), and those around the eastern half. The former show a
conscientious following of Perpendicular conventions and a careful
attention to the proper use of colours, but the latter enjoy an easy
victory in style, combination of hues and general artistic appreciation
of the possibilities of glass. The sexton relates the usual legend about
Albrecht Duerer having designed this latter series, but it is probably no
truer here than elsewhere in England, for it is the customary tale one
hears about German glass. There is no doubt, however, that in
composition and style it differs noticeably from anything made north of
the Channel. While the figure-and-canopy work is clearly of the
fifteenth century, it must be admitted that if the windows in the
eastern part of the church be likewise of that period, then they
certainly represent an early manifestation of a style that did not
generally prevail until the sixteenth century. May not this very
difference help to explain the second "completion" of the church?
Suppose we credit Richard Tame with having secured the canopy windows
for the edifice he completed in 1493, and leave to his son the honour
of having added the series showing later attributes when he finally
finished the structure in 1534. The first windows may have been captured
in the way reported in the legend, and the later ones secured in some
other manner from the Continent, for it is known that most of the
sixteenth century glass in England was procured from foreign sources.
Let us leave this moot point to be conclusively decided by others, and
turn to observing and enjoying the glass. The shape of the church is
unusual and requires a brief word of description in order to understand
the placing of the windows. The westerly half consists of the regulation
nave with a broad aisle on each side. Above the nave runs a glazed
clerestory, which, of course, does not extend over the aisles. There are
no transepts. At the middle of the church just where the nave ends there
rises the tower, of the same width as the nave. The clerestory stops on
the nave side of this tower; there is no clerestory above the eastern
half of the church. This easterly half is the same width as that to the
west, but it is all open and not separated into aisles like the other
part. In the southerly wall of the building are six windows and a door,
and in the northerly, seven windows. The clerestory has four lights of
three lancets on each side. Canopies containing figures standing upon
pedestals and with gracefully written scrolls about them are to be found
in all the clerestory windows, and also below in the four most westerly
aisle windows on each side. The figures on the north of the clerestory
represent Roman emperors, and above in the traceries are little devils
on a red ground. Opposite them on the south appear Martyrs and Prophets
of the Faith, appropriately attended in the traceries above by angels on
a blue ground. All the windows thus far described are clearly fifteenth
century; the workmanship is good but not of such marked excellence as is
shown in the eastern part of the church. These latter evidence
remarkably skilful designing, and, furthermore, demonstrate that the
artist understood the medium in which he had to work out his cartoons.
They lean strongly towards the Renaissance type: the colours used are
very good, especially some of the greens. Most of the subjects on the
north are taken from the life of the Virgin, while opposite, across the
choir, appear scenes from the life of Christ, such as the Last Supper,
the Miraculous Draught of Fishes, &c. The sexton delights to tell the
visitor that the towers in the background of the last-named scene are
faithful counterfeits of the towers of Nuremburg, thus proving
conclusively (except to hypercritical cavillers) that Albrecht Duerer
designed them. The story is picturesque, but it is fortunate that the
good man never saw Nuremburg, or his conscience might force the
suppression of this agreeable fiction. It must be admitted, however,
that some of this glass is sufficiently excellent to have been designed
by that great master. The five-lanceted window that fills the end of the
little eastern extension behind the altar has five scenes across its
lower half, while above them, occupying the entire width of the
embrasure, is a fine Crucifixion. The original background has been
replaced by white glass, which enables us to appreciate all the more
readily how well the picture is composed. The flowing garments and
certain other details are very German in character, while some of the
implements displayed are purely Teutonic--_e.g._, the swinging mace,
showing the spiked ball hanging from the handle by a chain. The
perspective displayed in all these scenes is noticeably good. We
must pass to the other end of the church in order to see its most
entertaining window, at least to all those not deeply interested in the
intricacies of technique. It fills the western end of the nave just
above the portal, and is one of the rare sort known as "doom windows."
There is here set forth a most edifying demonstration in glowing
colours of what will some day happen to those who are not wise
enough to be good! Even Foxe's "Book of Martyrs" cannot provide the
exhilarating horrors that the numerous ingeniously minded devils here
afford. Most delightful is the enthusiasm and earnestness with which
they are carrying on their presumably daily toil of keeping Hades up to
its unpleasant reputation.
CIRENCESTER
If the account of this town is not to be read aloud, everything will
pass off peacefully, but if sound is going to be given to written words,
then our trouble will begin at once, for the methods of pronouncing its
name have led to unlimited discussion. All the disputants may be divided
into two camps, in one the educated and refined citizens of the town,
who pronounce the word as it is spelt, and are aided and abetted therein
by all non-residents, while in the other camp we shall find an agreeable
company, headed by the late William Shakespeare, and consisting of all
the humbler townspeople and the country folk residing near by. This
latter group prefer the sound, which, reduced to spelling, approximates
"Cisseter." Notwithstanding this centuries-long dispute, the town has
declined in importance since the days of the Romans! Then it was the
cross-roads of three great highways, and when one reflects that the
Roman road was even more potential in its developing effect upon
territory than the modern railway, it is easy to see the advantages that
Cirencester enjoyed over towns not so favoured. While considering this
practical feature there must not be forgotten the romantic glamour lent
by the legend that King Arthur was crowned here. The parish church is
particularly delightful, not only because of its characteristically
Perpendicular Gothic exterior, but also because of the logical way in
which that same style has been carried out within, especially in the
charming fan tracery of the vaults. The stained glass must be studied in
detail in order to yield a full appreciation of its beauty, for we must
not expect to find here the splendid _ensemble_ often seen elsewhere.
There are few places in the land where Perpendicular glass shows so
clearly the delicacy of both design and colour which the art achieved in
England during that epoch. This fact is borne home with marked emphasis
because we are viewing it immediately after an examination of the much
better designed but less delicately painted windows of Fairford. As a
result of this careful treatment of tint and drawing there is derived an
unexpectedly satisfactory result from the collection of figures in
canopies assembled in the five tall lancets of the east window. Seen
from the nave this collection is quite cool and silvery, and does not
betray its composite nature. Where the ancient heads have been lost or
destroyed, their space has been frankly filled with white glass. Toward
the bottom are eight small panels containing kneeling donors. The large
west window is also a composite one, but here honesty proves to have
been the worst possible policy, because the original background having
been lost, they filled in between the canopies with splotches of hideous
modern blue! Of course this kills any chance for the softly toned effect
which we have often observed as the chief charm of the perfected canopy
style. In this instance it is peculiarly unfortunate, because the
canopies are carefully worked out in detail, showing as many little
spires above them as we shall find later at Great Malvern. The figures
which they enclose repay study. The centre three in the lower row are
almost enveloped by broad written scrolls, which lend a most decorative
effect. In the pedestals below the figures are little open galleries
containing diminutive kneeling donors, very modestly and appropriately
displayed. The colours here are noteworthy, especially the rich deep red
in the robe of the cardinal at the top of the second lancet from the
north; in the second to the south notice the combination of the mulberry
gown, blue cape, and golden halo. The use of the leads to delineate
folds in the cloth is as good as the colouring. It is evident that no
mean artist produced these satisfactory results, but it is fortunate for
him that he cannot see the atrocious blue that now strives to off-set
his delightful work. In the chapel to the right of the chancel, the
most easterly embrasure on the north has its three lancets filled with
agreeably arranged figures and fragments. Being on a level with the eye
of the observer, this glazing can be examined closely. Note the careful
adjustment of the leads to suit the drawing of the hands in the
right-hand lower corner. It is so evident that this glazier thoroughly
understood his art that we are not surprised at the richness of the reds
and the blues, or the mellow strength of his yellow stain. It is easy to
deduce from the Cirencester windows the lesson that design is not so
important as colour, and that, while excellent effects can be produced
by a collection of well-toned fragments, the best design done in bad
colouring is sure to be unsatisfactory.
GLOUCESTER
In our wanderings to see glass we have observed how many and varied were
the reasons for the presentation of those splendid offerings to
religious edifices, and also that these reasons are often storied upon
the windows themselves. Wide as is the range of such causes it is
reserved for Gloucester Cathedral to show us an ancient window erected
to commemorate the winning of a great battle. Thanks to the painstaking
studies of Charles Winston (1863), backed by his exhaustive knowledge of
heraldry, it is now known that the great expanse of coloured glass at
the eastern end of the Gloucester chancel is a thank-offering for the
epoch-making victory at Crecy of the little army of English over the
French hosts. How incongruous it seems that such a feat of arms should
be commemorated in this mild manner! The mind wanders off from this
glorious wall of colour back to a certain cloudy afternoon in August
1346. Edward III. and his young son the Black Prince, with a force of
only eight thousand Englishmen, had swept triumphantly through Normandy
up to the very gates of Paris. There the presence of a huge army of
French and mercenaries forced them to turn northward toward the Flemish
border. Fatigued by their dashing campaign, they were overtaken and
brought to bay by the French at Crecy, about fifteen miles east of
Abbeville. In the very front of the French hosts was stationed a body of
15,000 Genoese crossbowmen who, by their discharge of arrows, were to
disconcert the English, and disorder their ranks preparatory to the
onslaught of the French knights. Suddenly a great storm breaks upon the
embattled armies, terrifying the Genoese unaccustomed to the thunder,
lightning and driving rainbursts of a northern tempest. Nor is this all,
for when the storm passes and the sun darts out from behind the clouds,
the Genoese, ordered to discharge their crossbows, find to their dismay
that the bowstrings are rain-soaked and cannot be drawn. Just at this
juncture the English archers, taking their bows from water-tight cases,
loose such a pestilential shower of arrows upon the already harassed
Genoese that they break and flee, throwing into the wildest confusion
the ranks of the Frenchmen behind them. Effective as were the bows of
the English archers, the long knives of the Welshmen prove equally so,
stabbing the horses of the French and thus placing the riders _hors de
combat_. Together these two bands of yeomen reverse the verdict of
centuries of warfare;--they show the armoured knight to be an
anachronism, and thus in one day feudalism begins to totter to its fall.
The moment has come for the charge of the English chivalry. On they
dash, led by the sixteen-year-old Black Prince. They fall upon the
already panic-stricken French and what has been a battle becomes a rout.
The king witnessed the conflict from a windmill on a ridge, being
desirous that his son alone might have the glory of the victory. It is
doubtful if the annals of chivalry record a finer scene than the meeting
of the king and the Black Prince after the battle. In the blaze of the
great camp-fires, and before the whole army, the father embraced his
son, and would have given him alone the praise, but the Prince "bowed to
the ground and gave all the honour to the king his father." Ten years
later we find him of the same generous nature, for, in the evening after
the great victory at Poitiers, he caused the captured King John of
France and his son to be seated, and standing behind, served them
himself, modestly refusing to join in their repast. Long since hushed is
the din of that ancient strife, unless perhaps an harmonious echo
thereof comes to us from the great east window. Along its lower panes
are displayed the shields of the Black Prince and the Earls of Warwick
and Oxford, who were with him in the 1st Division on that glorious day,
and of the Earls of Arundel and Northampton who led the 2nd Division
(the 3rd being in command of King Edward III. himself). In this brave
array we also find the shields of Thomas Lord de Berkeley, his brother
Sir Maurice de Berkeley, Richard Lord Talbot, and Thomas Lord Bradeston,
who all served in this expedition. Here, also, are the arms of the Earls
of Lancaster and Pembroke, who, although at that time fighting in the
south at Aiguillon in Guienne, were included as companions-in-arms of
the same war. In this beautiful manner the glory and gallant memory of
these knights are preserved within this stately cathedral, far removed
from the din and carnage, the hissing flight of arrows, the clang of the
forward dash of knights, the clash of steel on steel, the battle-cries,
and the mingled roar of retreating hosts hotly pursued by exultant
victors. Here they dwell for ever in the midst of a great peace: around
the grey walls and sturdy tower are the quiet walks, the green swards,
the leafy foliage of a peaceful England--an England preserved inviolate
from foreign invasion by the splendid deeds of these gallant warriors,
and many another like them. So modestly are their blazons set out along
the lower part of the great window that the story of their gift and its
giving was forgotten, and lay hidden for centuries until rediscovered by
Mr. Winston. Much as our windows have hitherto revealed to us of quaint
episode and romantic story, never have we happened upon so portentous a
memory, nor one which so richly deserved this magnificent tribute. Its
huge expanse of 72 by 38 feet is only rivalled by that of the east
window of York (78 by 33 feet). Well did Winston say, "I know of no
window so likely as this to improve by a long contemplation the taste of
modern glass-painters and their patrons."
[Illustration: _J. Valentine, photo._
CHOIR, GLOUCESTER CATHEDRAL
Great east window commemorative of knights who fought at Crecy.
Backgrounds of pink and soft blue. Tracery lights no longer
differentiated from window below, as during decorated period.
Note elaborate masking of earlier walls by later Perpendicular
work]
A great deal of really fine glass is so badly placed as to appeal only
to the student, and not to the sightseer, but at Gloucester this
masterpiece exhibits itself to the greatest advantage. One should not
speak of this vast window as being in the eastern wall, for it is so
large that it takes the place of that wall. In fact it is somewhat wider
than the interior of the church at that point, which for this reason has
had its side walls slightly slanted out to receive the window. How great
is this disparity in size may be estimated if one sights along the
inside of either side wall, for you will miss entirely the outermost
tier of glass panels. The superficial area of the glass is also
increased by a slight bowing outward of the window structure. Behind and
to the east of this end of the cathedral was later built a Lady chapel
which, however, opens through into the older church. Of course the
shadow of this later structure could not help but fall upon the east
window, and to that extent obscure it, but what might have proved a
serious defect was avoided by stationing the chapel somewhat to the
east of the older building, and also by not beginning the coloured
canopied figures upon the east window until above the line of shadow
cast by the Lady chapel. The panes below that line are glazed in white
bordered by colour, here and there relieved by the coats of arms already
mentioned. Viewed from the crossing this great window is more than
delightful. Row upon row of canopy-framed personages on red or blue
backgrounds, are stationed one above another in splendid profusion.
Many of the books class it with the Decorated period, although always
explaining that its looks belie that early dating. Our errand is to see
how windows look, and therefore, because its stone framework is so
obviously Perpendicular, as is also the delicacy of the tones of its
glass (particularly in the canopies), it would be unwise for us to
consider it otherwise than as an early manifestation of the later style.
It is very Perpendicular in its lines and its colouring, and absolutely
unlike the deep rich windows at Tewkesbury, Bristol and Wells, which are
so typically Decorated. We must remember that the glazier had to conform
to the styles of the architect, and because it was the latter who
inaugurated the changes he was, perforce, always in advance of the
glazier, which helps
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