THE INTERIOR.
The cathedral is best entered through the handsome porch in Tom Quad which
was cut by Mr. Bodley through one of the canonical houses; in order,
perhaps, to announce that the old _régime_ had passed away, and the
time at last arrived when "the teachers of theology no longer dwell on
the ruins of the church they should protect," as a writer fifty years
back had half-despairingly foretold. This porch is a happy compromise
between the old heart-breaking descent into a half-ruined nave, and
the rather impossible scheme of continuing the church into the middle
of the Quad. The former spoilt the cathedral, the latter would have
spoilt the college; but by the present arrangement the church serves
very creditably for both its purposes, and one may well spend a day
there without remembering what Wolsey did to the nave.
On entering the cathedral itself the visitor finds himself in a kind of
narthex which is in fact the ante-chapel of a college chapel. Before him
is the organ-screen, the entrance under which is veiled by a curtain at
service time; on either side he has a glimpse of the aisles. The effect
is peculiar, but not unpleasant, although the ante-chapel is a bare bit
of modern restoration, wisely left unsculptured, and unrelieved except
for some monuments, of which one may gratefully say that they are best
where they are. But passing under the screen, all is changed. We find
ourselves in one of the most charming and distinctive interiors of a
country of interesting churches. The curious and happy arrangement of
the great pillars and triforium, the variety and originality of the
sculptured capitals, the rich pendent vaulting of the choir, and the
touch of mystery in the further chapels, all combine to give to this
creation of a long and chequered history an attraction peculiarly its
own.
Yet the same bluntness of aspect which impresses one in the spire is
the leading characteristic of the interior also. Only in this case the
effect is not part of the original plan, but is due to the destruction
by Wolsey of the three Western bays. Things must have seemed far worse
before the new western bay added twenty feet to the nave, and brought
the church right back to the cloister around Tom Quad, for though it
only serves as an ante-chapel, it yet helps considerably to break the
enclosed appearance, which must have been almost oppressive before.
As it is, Christ Church is the smallest of our cathedrals; for even with
the new ante-chapel it measures but 175 feet in length. Instead of being
of the usual cruciform plan, it is now almost square,--in fact, the length
from the reredos to the organ-screen is 132 feet, while the breadth across
from the Latin Chapel to St. Lucy's Chapel is 108 feet. The church is
made up of the shortened nave with its two aisles, and ante-chapel, the
central tower, the north transept with its one aisle, the south transept,
and the eastern half of the church, which itself contains no less than
six divisions,--the choir, with its two aisles, the Lady Chapel on the
north, and the Latin Chapel (or St. Catherine's) on the north again of
that, while on the south is the small chapel of St. Lucy.
If the unusual appearance of the cathedral is partly due to Wolsey's
destruction, it is partly due also to its being used as a college
chapel, and partly to the fact that in general plan, and to some extent
in detail, it is Ethelred's design, commenced seventy years before the
great developments of Norman architecture began. Ethelred himself probably
only completed the choir and adjacent parts, and even there the work was
very much altered in late Norman times; while the nave itself seems to
be principally Norman (though built in imitation of Ethelred's work),
with the exception of the pillars, which must be earlier than the Norman
restoration, and may be of Saxon date, though we have no documentary
clue as to what happened from the reign of Canute to that of Henry I.,
except that the church was, during the latter part of the time, in a
very bad way.
The following are Mr. Park Harrison's conclusions as to the general plan
of the church, which he set before the British Archæological Association
in 1892:--"The design of the building is clearly derived from the original
pre-Norman church. The uniformity of plan throughout affords a remarkable
instance of the way in which early church-builders imitated previous
work, the process being, at Oxford, slow enough to make stages in the
construction, that must have occupied instead of thirty years, as stated
in the explanatory cards suspended in the cathedral, and quoted in some
of the guide-books, at least 160. There were three changes in the profiles
of the bases, and three in the abaci, all before the years 1170 or 1180."
Thus the cathedral is a most important evidence of the high state of
civilisation at which our Anglo-Saxon forefathers gradually arrived
after the landing of St. Augustine. It is some satisfaction to our
national pride to discover that they did not owe their culture to the
Norman settlement, nor worship in wooden sheds before the arrival of
the Conqueror, as was till recently supposed; but that the people who
produced poets like Caedmon, artists like Dunstan, and scholars like
Alfred and Bede, were also able to build churches worthy of such great
names. More will be said about their workmanship when we come to discuss
the capitals in the choir, but here we may refer the reader to a drawing
in Mr. Harrison's pamphlet, "The Pre-Norman Date," of the apse of a church
from the "Dunstan" MS., which shows at what elaborate architecture the
Anglo-Saxons had arrived by the year 1000, and illustrates the curious
foliage found on the cathedral capitals.
=The Nave= was probably completed during the priorate of Robert of
Cricklade (c. 1160-1180), the restoration being begun shortly after
1158, when the Pope's charter was secured. The clerestory, which is
transitional, may therefore have been still unfinished at the time of
his death.
The remarkable arrangement of the triforium is characteristic of all the
four main divisions of the church. From the large pillars spring circular
arches worked with heavy round mouldings. _Underneath_ these arches,
not above them, is the triforium which is a blind arcade of two arches
set in the tympanum beneath the main arch. The reason why there is this
space under the main arch is because corbels in the form of half-capitals
are set on the further side of the great pillars, a good way below the
true capitals, to support the vaulting of the aisles. In this way, says
Scott, "the pillars and arches have been divided, as it were, into two
halves in their thickness, the half facing the aisle retaining its natural
height and proportions, but that facing the central space being so raised
as to embrace the triforium stage, the openings of which appear between
the two ranges of arches; the clerestory ranging above." Of course, by
this arrangement, the pillars avoid the low and stumpy proportions they
would otherwise have, and the general effect of height in the nave (which
is actually only 41 feet 6 inches) is considerably increased; for, were
the triforium in the usual place above the main arches, the main pillars
would not come any higher than the lower half-capitals. The arrangement
is very unusual in England; though it is found in Italian Gothic, and
even in Renaissance work in that country, as in St. Petronio, Bologna.
It occurs in the transept of Romsey Abbey, in the choir at Jedburgh,
in Dunstable Priory, and in Tewkesbury Abbey. That it existed in Saxon
times is proved by a drawing in Cædmon's Paraphrase (c. 1000) in the
Bodleian (_c.f._ "The Pre-Norman Date"). Dr. Ingram, who wrote in 1830,
thought that this arrangement was made in order to raise the height of
the building in the twelfth century, the triforium being the clerestory
of the old Saxon church peeping out under the later work. And though
his zeal was not according to knowledge (he thought the chapter-house
doorway was Saxon), yet there is a possibility that this theory of his
may have some truth in it.
[Illustration: CHRISTCHURCH, OXFORD. PLAN.]
Until lately, the church was thought to belong altogether to Prior
Guimond's time. Sir Gilbert Scott fixed the date of the rather heavily
carved capital over Bishop Berkeley's monument at 1170-80, owing to its
close resemblance to certain capitals at Canterbury Cathedral of this
period. The others seem to be of earlier date than this, and possibly of
Ethelred's time. Strange as they are, however, they do not suggest a Saxon
origin so strongly as do those of the choir. They are unique in design,
and have neither the massiveness of Norman, nor the crisp severity of
Early English work. The light, graceful, and rather fantastic foliage of
the three eastern capitals on the south side--almost like iron-work--will
be noticed. The third capital on the north side bears some resemblance
to two of those in the choir.
The pillars of the nave also present problems of some difficulty. They
are alternately circular and octagonal, and the masonry of six of them
points with something like certainty to a date considerably earlier than
the twelfth century restoration. In the four western pillars the stones
are a good deal smaller than those in the two octagonal ones of the next
bay: this makes it highly probable that they are of earlier date than
the octagonal pillars, which are certainly Norman of the period of the
restoration c. 1160. Mr. Harrison believes there is also considerable
evidence that the two cylindrical pillars were reduced in girth in order
to make them of the same size as the octagonal pillars then introduced;
for the lower half-capitals project nine inches on either side beyond
the pillars, while in those of the choir, which are unreduced, their
projection is only five. There is also reason to suppose that the other
pair of octagonal pillars, those by the organ-screen, were cut out of
older ones at the same time.
[Illustration: EARLY ENGLISH MOULDING.]
The clerestory windows are transitional, as is proved among other things
by their being pointed, for purely æsthetic reasons, and not (as in the
case of the north and south tower-arches) from any structural necessity.
Each window has a smaller blind arch on either side of it, making a
triple opening within to a single window in the wall; and the shafts of
this triple opening are made to carry small attached shafts which bear
the arches above. The capitals of the larger and lower shafts spread in
an unusual manner, having to support a mass of walling.
=The Roof= is a fine example of sixteenth century woodwork, and doubtless
replaced a simpler Norman roof of wood; but the brackets which support it
were added later to the Norman shafts, in order to carry a Perpendicular
vault of stone, which was never carried out. It is divided into small
panels, whose ornament, though rich, is rather mechanical.
The nave and choir are used as the College Chapel of Christ Church. In
the returned stalls by the organ-screen sit the two censors; most of the
undergraduates occupy the benches of the nave (which are modern woodwork
carved by Chapman after Sir G.G. Scott's designs), as far as the raised
seats where the choir sits; the central benches under the tower are
reserved for the freshmen; while the dean, canons, students (_i.e._,
fellows), and graduates fill the stalls of the choir, the other seats
of the choir being occupied by the Scholars. The public use the aisles,
transepts, and chapels on Sundays, but on weekdays are free of the nave
for the two special cathedral services.
[Illustration: NAVE AND CHOIR, LOOKING EAST
(_from a photograph by Carl Norman & Co._).]
=Monuments of the Nave=.--Berkeley's monument is attached to one of
the north pillars, which it entirely defaces. _George Berkeley_ was
Bishop of Cloyne, and died in 1753, during a visit to Oxford; he was as
good as he was famous, and his monument is as large as it is ugly. The
epitaph, though not altogether untrue, and doubtless well meant, has the
unfortunate effect of prepossessing the reader against its subject,--_Si
Christianus fueris, si amans patriae, utroque nomine gloriari potes
Berkleium vixisse_. Beneath is inscribed the quotation from Pope,--
"To Berkeley every virtue under heaven."
On the pier by the pulpit the talented _Dean Aldrich_ is commemorated by
a bust, which shows him to have had a very good face, and bears by way
of further adornment a winged skull that is quite unnecessarily hideous.
Aldrich has been already referred to: he was the architect of Peckwater
and All Saints, the composer of many well-known anthems and services,
the author of the once standard "Oxford Logic," and "a most universal
scholar." He succeeded Massey, the Roman Catholic dean, who had to "make
off and retire across the seas" in 1689. Browne Willis says of Aldrich
that "as he spent his Days in Celibacy, so he appropriated his Income
to Hospitality and Generosity, and, like Bishop Fell, always encouraged
learning; as a celebrated Author tells us, 'to the utmost of his Power,
being one of the greatest then in England, if we consider him as a
Christian, or a Gentleman,' to which give me leave to add that he always
had the Interest of his College at heart; of which I may experimentally
say, he was an excellent Governor." He was very modest, and desired to be
buried without any memorial, a wish which was at first complied with by
his "thrifty nephew." Sunk into a pillar opposite is a curious old brass,
to the memory of John Walrond, student, who died young in 1602.
A marble slab on the pavement in the midst of the nave commemorates
_Dr. Pusey_, who was canon of Christ Church, in virtue of his Hebrew
Professorship, and lies buried here. The Latin inscription mentions also
his wife and daughter, and of him it speaks as "Professor of the Hebrew
tongue, and Canon of this church (_aedis_), who in the peace and pity of
Jesus fell asleep, September 16th, 1882, being 82 years and 24 days old."
=The Organ= stands on a fine Jacobean screen, dating from Duppa's
time (c. 1635); it was removed here from before the choir during
the restoration. The outer casing belonged to a former organ built by
Father Schmidt in 1680. The present instrument was built by Willis &
Son in 1884. It has four manuals and pedals, thirty-nine speaking stops,
nine couplers, ten pneumatic pistons, six composition pedals, and other
accessory movements. It has a very fine tone, and is well placed for
sound. Its external appearance is much improved by the pretty green
_appliqué_ curtain which now hangs in front of the organist's seat.
[Illustration: PULPIT.]
=The Pulpit=.--Christ Church is fortunate in possessing an old oak pulpit,
escaping thus the garish ventures in marble which have been disastrous
to so many other cathedrals. This pulpit is Jacobean (c. 1635). It is a
remarkable piece of workmanship, elaborately carved, and well designed:
the grotesques on the panels should be especially noticed, as well as the
light elevated canopy, surmounted by a pelican, which was at one time
transferred to the episcopal throne, and has recently been restored to
its original use.
=The Tower= is not square, the nave and choir sides being wider than
those of the transepts. For this practical reason (and not because of
the transitional character of the work, though transitional it is)
the north and south arches are pointed, while the east and west are
round-headed. The tower arches seem originally to have sprung from the
imposts ornamented with trefoil leaves which can still be seen, though
they were cut through when the present capitals were introduced at the
time of the Norman restoration. The Norman shafts and capitals were
attached to the older and ruder piers. Round these piers are the shafts
of very firm and graceful proportions, their capitals decorated with
foliage. The lower parts of the vaulting shafts of the great piers are cut
off and finished with a narrow beading, which shows that the ritual choir
originally stood here, and did not correspond with the structural choir.
[Illustration: CHOIR AND NAVE, LOOKING WEST.]
The lantern, which had been blocked up, was reopened at the time of the
recent improvements, and adds considerably to the appearance of the
church. Its first stage is ornamented with an arcade of stout Norman
shafts, whose capitals are carved with a breadth and simplicity well
suited to the height at which they stand: the arcade is bounded above
and below by a heavy round string course. The upper stage has another
arcade, of four large round arches on each side, the corner ones pierced
as windows. Above is an early sixteenth century roof: it is divided
into square panels, in most of which marks of the old ornaments (in
the form of Maltese crosses like those of the nave roof) can be clearly
discerned. At the springing of the main arches Fifteenth Century corbels
have been inserted. In the south-east pier of the tower occurs the break
in the masonry which marks, it is thought, the cessation of the building
operations when Ethelred was driven out of England by Sweyn. It can be
clearly seen from the south choir aisle. The tooling of the masonry half
way up the tower has also been found to be marked with the cross lines,
which distinguish Saxon from Norman mason's work.
During Mr. Billing's restoration in 1856 a remarkable crypt was opened
three feet beneath the paving of the choir between the north and
south piers of the tower. This crypt, which was covered up again after
investigation, was 7 feet long by 5 feet 6 inches, and just high enough
for a man to stand upright; its walls were of stone, and contained
aumbries or lockers at each end. There were also slight remains of
indented crosses on the western side, and at the east enough was missing
to suggest a doorway. The entrance to this chamber may have been through
a trap-door, or by a passage leading into the east side. It was clearly
not intended for sepulture, as its length was from north to south; and
the absence of passages giving convenient access on each side seems to
prove that it was not intended for the exhibition of relics. The most
likely theory is that it was used as a secret chamber to contain the
University chest, which was called the Frideswide chest, because it was
kept in a secure place in this church, its keys being in the hands of
certain canons by appointment of the chancellor. If this seems a very
public place for a secret chamber, it must be remembered that originally
it was immediately under the rood-loft, and therefore admitted of a
trap-door being concealed; though the resting-place of the chest may not
have been kept very secret for all we know. This crypt was probably made
in Norman times, and is unique of its kind.
=The Aisles of the Nave and Transepts= show the progress which was made
at the end of the twelfth century in vaulting: Mr. Ruskin says of the
work here that it is "bad and rude enough, but the best we could do
with our own wits, and no French help." Vaulting originally began with
square ribs, after wards the ribs became plain half-rounds, and later
were moulded Here we find good specimens of the development of all three
stages. In the choir aisles the vaulting arches are partly square and
the ribs on the groins half-round, of a heavy character. These ribs were
inserted at a later period, as is sufficiently clear from the awkward
way they are fitted to corbels at the side of the capitals which carry
the vault. In the west aisle of the north transept the vaulting is the
same, but lighter in character; and there are no corbels, though the
fitting is still awkward. In the north aisle of the nave the vaulting is
pointed but still with plain half-round ribs, a little lighter than in
the transept-aisles. But in the south aisle of the nave, as the builders
got on with their work to the westward, their style underwent a further
development, and a pear-shaped moulding with a fillet along the edge
proclaims that the Early English period had begun. With the completion of
this aisle they seemed to have become bolder; for the vaulting shafts in
the transepts with their unmistakable Norman capitals, and the solitary
ribbed stones resting on those of the south transept, prove that they
intended to go beyond the practice of Norman architects and throw a
vault across the wider span of the transepts themselves. Perhaps they
immediately afterwards discovered that the task was beyond them: at all
events the vaulting shafts were left as they are, and the transepts have
never been vaulted.
The windows of the nave and transept aisles are uniformly uninteresting.
They were originally plain Norman lights, then Perpendicular, then
seventeenth century Gothic, and finally "restored" by Scott, in
imitation of the Perpendicular work. The windows of Dean Duppa,
which they replaced, were certainly not beautiful in their tracery,
as may be seen by that at the west end of the north nave aisle, which
only the delightful Dutch glass of Van Ling redeems,--but they at least
had some character. In the south nave aisle an attempt has been made to
hark further back by the introduction of a window in Norman style; but
fortunately this has not been persevered with. Only one of the original
Romanesque windows remains, by which to judge the effect contemplated
by the first architects; it is that containing Bishop King's portrait.
=Glass in the Aisles=.--The glass in the restored Perpendicular windows
of the nave aisles (by Clayton and Bell) is very unsatisfactory both
in colour and design. Of that in the round-headed window of the south
aisle of the nave by an Irish artist (O'Connor) one can only say that
it was better conceived than executed. Over the door that leads into
the cloister is a half-window by Mr. Wailes.
The "Faith, Hope, and Charity" window next to this (namely, at the west
end of the aisle) was Sir Edward Burne Jones' second essay here in this
craft. If his first, that in St. Catherine's, the Latin Chapel, was a
wonderful success, this one is a not unpleasant failure, but a failure
none the less. None of the figures are very graceful; the firing seems to
have gone wrong in the most important places, especially in the faces,
which are coarse and expressionless, though one cannot help admiring
the fortitude of Charity in carrying the bulky infant who presents his
vast back to the spectator. The colour is strong, and free from the
miserable timidity of the work in the Perpendicular windows,--for the
whole thing is of course a work of art (and not of commerce), though an
unsuccessful one,--still it fails to harmonise. The window as a whole,
however, is saved by the beautiful foliage which forms the background,
and by the four slender figures in the tracery.
Others have admired it more. Here, for instance, is an appreciative
description from the columns of "The Builder" for April 1888:--"The figure
of Hope has a greyish-blue drapery, varied in tint, and diapered with
the pattern of a flower in stain. The scarf floating round the figure
is sky-blue in tone and lighter than the dress. The figure of Charity has
a ruby over-mantle, with a white dress underneath; while the figure
of Faith has a blue dress beautifully and richly diapered, the upper
portion with a sumptuous Venetian design familiar on the brocades of
the sixteenth century, and the lower portion with a sprig of foliage.
The tone of the backgrounds is a rich, warm green, and is very carefully
painted with foliage, and the contrast yielded by the pale blue of the
drapery, and the rich, warm green of the background in the two outside
windows, is most harmonious and striking. The detail in this window is
very elaborate, and every part of it bears traces of care and thought."
In a corner of this window is an inscription,--_In Memoriam Edwardi
Denison hujusce Aedis commensalis Curâ amicorum, A.D. 1870._ Edward
Denison, nephew of the Speaker, and son of the Bishop of Salisbury, was
the pioneer of those who have since founded the numerous settlements
in the neglected parts of London. At a period of acute distress he
convinced himself that no good could be done by sending money from
the West End unless educated people could be found who would give up
their lives to making friends with the poor. Accordingly he took the
novel step of going to live in the East End; there he founded a club,
and lived apart from the brilliant society to which he was accustomed.
Besides teaching and organising, he studied carefully the social
conditions of his neighbours, and many of the methods now universally
practised date from his experience. Shortly after he had been elected
M.P. for Newark he died, at the early age of twenty-nine, and there was
"hardly a home within his district that had not some memory left of the
love and tenderness of his personal charity."
In the west end of the north aisle of the nave is the last remaining
relic of the glass which the Dutchman Van Ling painted in Dean Duppa's
time. The rest, which filled the aisle, was removed about twenty-five
years since, on the ground that it made the church too dark. There are
various opinions about this window, which represents Jonah sitting under
his gourd, and the town of Nineveh in the distance. We must confess to
a great admiration for it; the foliage is fine and rich, and if it is a
little over-strong in its green, that only makes it more characteristic
of its age. And, however that may be, there cannot be two opinions as to
beauty of the town in the background, which reminds one irresistibly of
Dürer; and, with its rich brown houses, bluish roofs, touches of greenery,
and fair purple hills beyond, makes the right-hand light of the window
a picture of which one never wearies. The whole is leaded in rectangular
panes, like Bishop King's window.
=Monuments of the Nave Aisles=.--In the south aisle there are two
monuments of interest; that of _Corbet_ (1688) for the characteristic
decoration of cupids and wreath work; that of _Pococke_ for further
reasons. Edward Pococke (1604-1691), whose bust was moved here from the
north aisle by Scott, is represented with pointed beard and wearing the
old tufted college cap. He was the great Arabic scholar of his day;
the first text in Hebrew characters printed at Oxford was published
by him, and his 420 oriental MSS. were bought by the University. Yet
he was condemned, under the Commonwealth, by the Berkshire "Committee
of Scandalous Ministers," on the ground of "insufficiency," his real
offence being that he had used part of the Prayer Book in the public
service. There are two portraits of him in the Bodleian, representing
him with light hair and dark eyes; and a fig-tree which he planted still
flourishes on the south side of the Professor of Hebrew's house. A
striking biography of him has come down to us in a sentence--"His life
appeared to me one constant calm."
=The North Transept= has the unnoticeable peculiarity, that it turns
slightly westward. This is because the choir (into which it is built at
right angles) turns a little to the north, to symbolise, it is said,
the droop of our Lord's head upon the cross. The western aisle of this
transept still remains; the eastern aisle has been lost in the chapels,
of which it now forms the respective western bays.
The north bay of this transept bears the marks in its clerestory of
late Perpendicular restoration; the carved heads on the string-course
above the arch afford an interesting comparison with the Norman heads
above the capitals, and are vigorous sketches of contemporary life. The
capitals in this transept and those in the north aisle of the nave are
strong and varied. The wooden roof of both the transepts was made in the
early sixteenth century, earlier than that of the nave.
The tracery of the great north window had been altered and made ugly by
the seventeenth century restorers; it was accordingly restored back to
its original design by Sir Gilbert Scott.
Under this north window is a panelled tomb belonging to Henry VII.'s
time. It is attributed to _James Zouch_, a monk of the priory, who
died in 1503. In his will, dated October 16, 1503, and preserved in
the Prerogative Office in London, he directs that he shall be interred
under the window of the north transept, and a tomb be erected for him
in the midst of the same window. He also bequeathed £30 to the convent
for vaulting that part of the church, in consideration of his being
there buried.
On each of the shields in the quatrefoil compartments of the tomb is an
inkhorn and pen-case, indicating, it is said, that the monk was a notary
or scribe by profession, though Dr. Ingram speaks of "the pen-case and
inkhorn of Zouch" as an heraldic blazonry.
[Illustration: FROM THE NORTH TRANSEPT.]
In the north transept aisle there are curious thin, wavy scrolls of
brasses, commemorating "Leonardus Hutten," and hard by are two pleasant
kneeling figures also in brasses.
Some of the monuments that disfigured the church have fortunately been
removed; of these is Chantrey's great sitting figure of Cyril Jackson,
which took up most of the north transept, but is now removed to the
Library. Of these sequestrated monuments some have been placed in the
ante-chapel; among them are the large and simple memorial of Bishop Fell,
and those of Dean Gaisford (d. 1855) and Bishop Lloyd (d. 1829).
One cannot but admire the spirit which has caused so many brasses to be
set up in recent years to deceased members of the House; and yet it has
become an abuse which calls for serious protest. It is now so much a
precedent that every member of the foundation should have a brass set up
to his memory at his death, that the tribute is become mechanical, and
indeed it would now be a marked slight if any don should die without a
memorial brass being erected. At this rate the cathedral will in a few
generations be entirely defaced unless the tradition be interrupted. As
it is, the brasses are all the reverse of beautiful; and, after a period
of lacquered obtrusiveness, they become leprous, and afterwards black.
A modern brass, indeed, defaces a wall as much as a modern tablet. Surely
some more beautiful form of memorial could be devised. The cathedral is
in need of many things, of colour, and hangings, and furniture. Could
not those tributes of respect take in the future this more honourable
form? Then, when an inscription is necessary, the enamelled tablet, with
its endless possibilities of jewel-like colour, might be used in place
of brass or marble. Something has already been done by the erection of
the beautiful eastern windows, and the cathedral has been fortunate in
escaping an eruption of episcopal tombs; but latterly there has been
an epidemic of brasses, which makes one fear that the artist's work is
being forgotten in the temptation to set off an epitaph with a display
of Latinity.
=Glass in the Transepts=.--The great window of the north transept is by
Clayton and Bell. Mr. Tyrwhitt says of it that it "glows with all the
fires which a fervid fancy can bestow upon the inwards of the Dragon."
The glaring glass in the clerestory of the north and south transepts is
by Henri and Alfred Gérente (1854), artists famous in their day. It was
originally in the great east window (now destroyed), and must have thrown
the members of the House into a stupor when in that prominent position. As
it is, the clerestory windows are a very inappropriate place for colour,
violent enough to "scare a chameleon"; though the glass was evidently put
there as the least conspicuous position. It might now be taken out and
buried, on the chance that time and the earth may have a mellowing effect.
The half-window above the vestry in the south transept is filled with
glass, coloured to look as if it were old, by Clayton and Bell, and given
in memory of Dr. Liddon.
=The South Transept= was originally on the same plan as the north, but
its aisles have disappeared: that on the west to make room for the
cloister; while that on the east is now represented by the chapel of
St. Lucy. Its appearance has also been much altered by the division of
its southern bay into two stories, which reduces its length, since the
lower story is the slype or passage that leads from the cloister to the
cemetery, and is therefore to all intents and purposes outside the
church. The upper story is reached by steps from the transept floor.
The whole of this curious structure, which has the appearance of a small
house built into the transept, is a modern restoration, its immediate
predecessor having been literally a house where dwelt the verger and his
family. In earlier times, however, there had been some kind of erection
here, which was used as a sacristy, and of this traces were found by
Gilbert Scott which led to the present restoration. As these traces,
however, consisted principally of some fragments of a staircase, the
present Early English restoration is only conjectural. On the whole it is
tolerable, though the heavy and unnecessary central buttress one may well
suppose not to be part of the old design. Why the slope of this buttress,
which stands in the middle of the transept, should be so stoutly protected
against the weather, it is hard to imagine. The carving on the tympanum
over the door that leads into the slype is stiff and repulsive. Just
to the right of this door is a holy water stoup, very simply cut into
the pillar, which proves that this entrance from the slype was usual in
old times, when the monastic buildings lay on that side of the church;
at present, however, the door is commonly kept locked.
[Illustration: SAXON CLERESTORY WINDOW IN SOUTH TRANSEPT
(_from a drawing by J. Park Harrison_).]
The chamber above the slype, representing the old sacristy, is now used
as a vestry. It is reached from the transept, and a staircase in it leads
to the gallery above, whence in all probability a door led straight into
the dormitory of the monastery. A similar arrangement to this existed
at Bristol, which was also an Augustinian house; and there are traces
of a door in the wall of Canon Sanday's house which further substantiate
the conjecture. Some direct access to the church from the dormitory was
a great convenience in the days when matins was said in the middle of
the night.
The gallery is now used as a kind of museum for any odd fragments that
are discovered in the precincts. Among them is the quaintly carved base
of a Norman cross, which before the Reformation stood, together with a
pulpit, at the west end of the nave, near the place now occupied by the
fountain. The subjects represented are the Fall, Abraham's Sacrifice,
the Giving of the Law.
The open triforium directly over the Lyttleton monument in this transept
is an important relic of the second Saxon church, and a good instance of
the slight things which sometimes turn the scales in antiquarian disputes.
Professor Willis had in 1840 pronounced (as against Dr. Ingram, whose
pet theory it was that the triforium was the clerestory of Ethelred's
church) that the triforium must be of Norman design, because no grooves
could be found for the insertion of glass in the shafts, as would be the
case if it were Saxon.
Mr. Harrison accordingly, in December 1891, made a close examination of
the shaft and small arches in the open triforium which had struck him
as of Saxon character, with the result that the grooves for glass were
discovered to exist beyond a doubt, but so neatly stopped with mortar as
previously to have escaped notice. They can be clearly discerned inside
the arches, by anyone with good sight, from the floor of the church. The
base of the shaft which carries these arches is equally decisive, for it
is "pudding shaped," entirely different from the other bases, and most
unmistakably Saxon: it also can be seen from the floor, but is worth an
inspection from the gallery over the choir-vestry, whence there is also
an impressive view of the church. With this exception, the triforia and
clerestories of the transepts are similar to those of the nave, though
Saxon tooling has been found on the wall, and there is a break in some
of the masonry on the angle shaft near the vestry door, which possesses
a Saxon base. The principal arches of the clerestories are not pointed,
which proves that the transepts were rebuilt earlier than the nave. Two
corbels on the east side of the transept mark the site of a musicians'
gallery which once projected beyond the triforium.
=St. Lucy's Chapel= in the second bay of the old south transept aisle was
used as a vestry in the days when the transept was devoted to domestic
purposes. It must have ruined the effect of this part of the church,
and formed an extremely inconvenient vestry. Now the chapel is used, not
very appropriately, as a baptistery; it contains a font, well designed
and carved, which was executed in 1882. It is Norman or earlier, with
the exception of the eastern wall, which was rebuilt in order to hold the
present beautiful window. This window is of an uncommon type; the three
lights, less than half the height of the tracery above them, commence
considerably below the spring of the arch. The tracery, which reminds one
of that in Dorchester Abbey, a few miles away, is flamboyant in character,
suggesting the form which the decadence of Gothic architecture took in
France; only in this case it is a decadence that is vigorous as well as
graceful.
The chapel recalls the time when King Charles held his court in Christ
Church, at the time of the Civil War, many cavalier knights being buried
here.
=Monuments of the South Transept and Chapel=.--There are the tombs of
several prominent royalists in the transept as well as in St. Lucy's
little chapel, most of which might well be spared were it not for their
historic interest. That of Viscount Grandison, for instance, consists of
an urn on a pedestal, altogether huge and hideous; yet Grandison was a
brave and doubtless a graceful cavalier, who died in Oxford of wounds
received in the attack on Bristol in 1643. Another ugly, big monument
is that of Sir E. Littleton, keeper of the Great Seal, who took up arms
"for the royal majesty, during the execrable siege of this city." Sir
John Smith is also buried here: he "redeemed the banner royal" at the
battle of Edgehill, was knighted on the field by the King, and died of
his wounds in 1644, at the early age of twenty-eight.
A very odd monument is that to Viscount Brouncker, who died in 1645,
having been chamberlain to the young Charles, then Prince of Wales. A
smartly dressed gentleman and his wife are represented seated in
meditative attitudes, each with an elbow on the table, while between
their two elbows is propped a skull.
In the tracery of St. Lucy's chapel is to be found the finest old glass
in the cathedral. It belongs to the year 1330, or thereabouts, and
enables one to imagine what the church must have looked like when glass
of this magnificent description abounded, and hangings and altar-pieces
and wall-paintings, hardly less rich, filled every conspicuous position.
In the uppermost compartment of the tracery is a figure of our Lord seated
in glory; below there are angels with censers, and next two Augustinian
monks in blue and white robes, kneeling with outstretched arms; then come
coats of arms, and various grotesque beasts, all most richly coloured
in ruby and blue and green and gold. Below, in the principal spaces,
are (1) St. Martin on horseback giving his coat to the beggar; (2) the
martyrdom of St. Thomas à Becket: St. Thomas' head has been knocked
out by some fanatic, and replaced with white glass; the armour and shields
of the knights should be noticed; (3) St. Augustine, who holds a pastoral
staff, is teaching his monks and others. In the next four spaces are:--The
head of a king; St. Cuthbert, carrying the head of St. Oswald, and wearing
a green chasuble; St. Blaise, in a mulberry-coloured chasuble; the head
of a queen. The glass in the three main lights was destroyed, and then
replaced by some of seventeenth century work, but this too is now gone,
all except a portion of the upper part, which shows that the design was
architectural in character, and the colour that of fog-smitten stone-work.
[Illustration: THIRD CAPITAL OF CHOIR.]
=The Choir= is in four bays with a presbytery; it is in the same style
as the rest of the church, with the exception of the Perpendicular
alterations in the upper part. It was formerly filled with heavy,
ugly woodwork, and half way up all the pillars may be traced the modern
stone-work which had to be inserted when the stalls and panelling that had
encased the pillars were removed. Not a wreck of the old wood remains, and
the choir is now seated with walnut-wood stalls by Farmer and Brindley,
along which runs a light iron screen, very carefully wrought by Skidmore
of Birmingham in 1871. It is copied from Queen Eleanor's tomb in
Westminster Abbey. The pavement relaid in 1871 contains representations of
the cardinal virtues, copied from the church of the Knights of St. John at
Malta. Yet there were original artists to be found twenty-five years ago!
[Illustration: CAPITALS OF THE CHOIR
(_from a drawing by J. Park Harrison_).]
The pillars of the choir are larger than those of the nave, which appear
to have been reduced in girth (see p. 54). They are (according to the
theory of p. 9) part of Ethelred's church, dating from the first decade of
the eleventh century; but their bases belong to the Norman restoration,
and were probably put in by Cricklade. The triforium is also Late Norman,
here as throughout the church, with the single exception of the one
window in the south transept.
It is in the capitals of the choir that the most striking evidence of
Saxon work in the church is said to lie. Thus they are of remarkable
interest, besides being very fine specimens of stone-carving. If the
visitor sits in a stall in the middle of the south side of the choir
he will have the three most important capitals before him, and can study
them at leisure. One striking feature common to them all is that they bear
very evident traces of having been worn by the weather. It has been found
by Mr. Drinkwater that the stone of which they are made is too durable
to have been affected by the atmosphere while under cover; which would
prove that they must have been in their present position exposed to the
driving rains from the south, during the long period when the church was
in ruins, that is to say, before the restoration of the twelfth century.
Another significant feature which these three capitals have in common,
not only with each other but with all the others in the choir, is that
their abaci are extremely thick, just twice as thick as those in the
transepts and nave; and thick abaci are a mark of early work.
Their ornamentation is remarkable, partly Saxon and partly Oriental in
character, and said to be unlike Norman work. Sir Gilbert Scott himself
noticed the latter characteristic of these and other capitals in the
church. "The foliated ornament," he wrote, "assumes a noble character,
evidently evincing a study of the ancient Greek, which was effected
through a Byzantine medium." We have already seen, in the History of the
Cathedral, how this Byzantine influence is to be accounted for by the
fact that Greek clergy flocked to the court of Ethelred's brother-in-law
Richard; and further, it must be noted that many illuminated MSS. of
Saxon date show that Greek ornament was admired and studied at the time.
Professor Westwood, in his "_Lapidarium_," points out that in Saxon art
the designs of stone-carving are so completely identical with those in
the MSS. as to lead us to suppose that the artists of the illuminated
drawings were also the designers of the architecture. So much is this
the case that, "the age of a particular MS. being ascertained, we are
able approximately to determine also the age of the carving." Professor
Westwood was, in fact, among the first to be convinced of the Saxon
origin of the capitals we are discussing.
It is worth while to give a few illustrations of this very important
point. The first capital from the tower on the north side of the choir is
ornamented with that curious _spuma_ or wave-shaped work which has just
the dip and swing of a wave of the sea as it curls over before breaking.
In a Psalter of the beginning of the eleventh century (B.M. Har. 2904)
is to be found precisely the same vivid conventionalism.[2]
The second capital is the most curious one in the church, and is also
the most strikingly Saxon, the stalks issuing from pipes or tubes being
as characteristic almost of Saxon as interlaced work is of Celtic art.
Standing immediately under this capital, one is able clearly to
discern the faces on the corner volutes, which have each a crown of
leaves like one found in the famous tenth century "Dunstan" MS. in the
British Museum. One of these faces is that of a man, very heavy and
stupid-looking; the other that of a comely woman. It is hardly fanciful
to suppose that they are portraits of the blundering Ethelred and his
wife Emma.
The third capital is decorated with some branching work hardly less
curious, and above it is a head wearing the unbifurcated mitre, which
dropped out of use in the eleventh century. Of the three capitals on the
south side of the choir, which do not bear the same signs of weathering,
one has branching work, and the other two reworked leafage, such as is
found also in one on the north side of the nave.
As for the triforium and the rest of the work of the choir, it was all
so much restored in the twelfth century that one cannot find in it any
sign of pre-Norman work.
The pendent ceiling is one of the most striking features of the cathedral,
and is worth careful study. Ferguson considers this work to be the
most satisfactory attempt ever made to surmount the great difficulty
presented in all fan-tracery by the awkward, flat, central space which
is left in each bay by the four cones of the vault. At Gloucester,
King's College Chapel, Cambridge, Henry VII.'s Chapel, Westminster, and
other places, various attempts were made to deceive the eye, and hide
the unmanageable space; in Henry VII.'s Chapel the well-known pendants
were boldly introduced with this object. None were wholly satisfactory,
but, says Fergusson:--
"Strange as it may appear from its date, the most satisfactory roof of
this class is that erected by Cardinal Wolsey in the beginning of the
sixteenth century [this is a mistake, the roof having been built some
time before] over the choir of Oxford Cathedral. In this instance the
pendants are thrust so far forward, and made so important, that the
central part of the roof is practically quadripartite. The remaining
difficulty was obviated by abandoning the circular, horizontal outline
of true fan-tracery, and adopting a polygonal form instead. As the whole
is done in a constructive manner and with appropriate detail, this roof,
except in size, is one of the best and most remarkable ever executed."
Fan-tracery is a peculiarly English feature, and was invented, according
to Fergusson, in order to get rid of the endless repetition of inverted
pyramids which earlier vaulting produced. He therefore considers it an
improvement on the vaulting of the early English and Decorated periods;
and, as he thinks the ceiling of Christ Church Cathedral to be the best
example of fan-tracery, he comes near to pronouncing it the finest in
the world.
It certainly must strike every observer as possessing exceptional
beauty. At once rich and light, it yet accords wonderfully with the
homely Norman work that it crowns, and gives a happy finish to the most
important part of the cathedral. Even the lantern pendants seem more
graceful than is usually the case with those strange architectural
solecisms. Mr. Ruskin calls the ceiling "true Tudor grotesque, inventively
constructive, delicately carved, summing the builder's skill in the
fifteenth century."
[Illustration: TRACERY OF THE CHOIR CEILING, SHOWING TRANSEPT CLERESTORY
BEFORE THE RESTORATION.]
The ceiling is certainly too early in design to have been built by Wolsey,
as was supposed. But there are traces in the work which have led some
antiquaries to suppose that, though begun about 1480, its western bay
may not have been finished till the Cardinal's time, or even till the
end of Henry's reign. The head on the large corbel over the Dean's stall
certainly wears a Tudor crown, and is bearded. This would lead one to
suppose it to be a likeness of Henry VIII.: furthermore, the face is broad
but emaciated, with the beard straggling; and we learn from historians
that the King did let his beard grow longer at the end of his life,
when he was worn and ill, and expressed more penitence for his many
misdeeds than he is generally given credit for. The woman's head on the
corbel opposite, also wearing a Tudor crown, would probably be the last
of his wives, Katherine Parr. The face wears the happy expression of
one delivered from great anxiety.
In the arched space nearly above these heads are four canopied figures:
on the north, St. Peter with his keys, and St. Mary Magdalen (suggestive
of Wolsey's own college in Oxford); on the south St. Luke, over his bull
(possibly because of the connection of St. Frideswide's with the healing
art), and St. Catherine, holding the remains of a sword in her right hand,
and retaining a fragment of the wheel in her left. St. Katherine will be
found in the same attitude in a painted window of the Latin Chapel. The
central bosses of the roof are interesting. Over the altar is the head of
our Lord, surrounded by an aureole, the beard twisted into three points:
in the next bay is the Madonna and Child, and next a graceful figure,
identified as St. Frideswide by the curious sceptre with heavy foliage
at the end, which she is again represented with in the middle window
of the Latin Chapel. An angel is on either side of this figure. In the
next bay is an archbishop (Augustine?) with his cross; and on the last
a bishop (perhaps Birinus), holding his pastoral staff and supported by
two figures which may be chaplains or acolytes.
The clerestory of the choir was converted into Perpendicular at the
time when the roof was vaulted. The old walls were simply covered with
panelling, and the old windows enlarged into Perpendicular ones.
=The East End=, now one of the most characteristic features of the
cathedral, is the work of Sir G. Gilbert Scott, and is supposed to be a
reproduction of the original twelfth century design: for enough fragments
of the old work were said to remain on the walls to leave no doubt as to
its original plan. Of course the detail has the usual machine-made look
of modern carving; but it is something to have recovered the original
effect, especially as the Decorated window which it has replaced had been
spoilt in the seventeenth century, when it was altered from its original
five lights to three. The design, says Mr. J.H. Parker, is very rare in
England, and not common anywhere. It consists of a large wheel-window,
with an intersecting arcade under it, and _two_ round-headed windows
below: the wheel-window is set in a large round arch that seems to rest
on two stout pillars. This round window is an imitation of an old one in
Canterbury Cathedral. The arcade has a truer and less mechanical look than
most of the restored work. The whole effect of the East End is excellent;
dignified and varied, it has something of that refined homeliness which
is so strong a characteristic of the cathedral. The stained glass in the
windows by Clayton and Bell is not at all unpleasing when seen from a
distance. It is in character with the stone-work, and only just fails
to be really fine in colour. Dr. Liddon and Sir John Mowbray were the
donors of the glass.
It was formerly thought that the Norman presbytery was part of the
original choir, and therefore presumably the earliest portion of the
church; but Mr. Harrison gives the following technical reasons for
holding that it was an addition to an older building with an apse, built
by Ethelred:--
1. The arches of the two side windows cut through string courses
which run eastwards on both sides of the presbytery, being, in fact,
continuations of the abaci proper of the half-capitals at that end
of the choir. 2. If the east windows were designed from fragments of
previously existing Norman ones, these cannot have been of the same date
as the choir arches. The mouldings are later, and the old bases of the
windows still in the east wall are clearly of transitional character,
differing essentially from those belonging to corner shafts in the east
aisles of the transepts. 3. The east walls of the choir aisles, which
had been heightened to carry the vaulting, abut against and cover the
jambs of the two side windows of the presbytery on the outside, a thing
which could not have happened had the presbytery and choir aisles formed
part of the same design.
=The Reredos=, an anonymous gift, erected in 1881 in red Dumfries
sandstone, is a pleasant contrast to the chilly erections which now
deface so many of our cathedrals. It has been said to be "perhaps the
most exquisite piece of modern workmanship in Oxford," though this would
not necessarily be very high praise. But, though a little too small for
its position, a little wanting in breadth and overstrained in detail, it
is a sound and sincere piece of work. Nor can we agree with the criticism
which says that nothing can make it look like part of the structure, for
this is the fault of the structure in its present condition; when the old
colouring is revived, the reredos will certainly not be too rich for it,
and there is plenty of late Gothic in the choir to harmonise with its
carving. Mr. Bodley designed it, and Mr. Brindley was the sculptor of
the figures. They are of marble (rosso antico), and are excellent both
in feeling and execution. The central panel represents the Crucifixion,
with Our Lady and St. John at the foot of the cross, and Jerusalem in
the background. In the niches on the left are St. Michael in armour, and
St. Stephen in a dalmatic; on the right, St. Augustine, in cope and mitre,
and a very feminine looking St. Gabriel. Above the niches are carved and
gilt shields bearing the emblems of the Passion. The warm effect of the
whole is heightened by two handsome, green curtains on either side. The
inscription, under the crucifix is _Per crucem tuam libera nos Domine_.
=The High Altar=, of cedar wood, is less successful. Its eight clumsy
legs, which are the only part visible, are covered with unpleasant,
geometrical carving, most inappropriately accentuated by gilding: the
result is that an impression of some strange, many-legged insect fastens
on one in entering the church, and is hard to dislodge. One could wish
that the altar were panelled, or frontals used to cover the legs.
The two silver-gilt candlesticks are extremely fine examples of
seventeenth century plate; they are rather squat in shape, with large
bases richly embossed. The alms-dish which stands over the credence
is also silver-gilt of the same date, magnificently embossed. These
were given at the Restoration, and bear the date 1661-2. The chalices,
patens, and flagons have been made to match them in more recent times.
The altar books are good specimens of binding in velvet and precious
metal. They were given in 1638 by Canon Henry King. On the fly-leaf of
each book is a curious inscription in Latin, of which the following is
a translation:--"Bequeathed to the Church of Christ, Oxford. A brand
snatched from the burning, 1647, by the zealous care of R. Gardiner,
Canon of Ch. Ch., but displaced from his rightful position by the greed
of his times." These books were in use when Charles I. worshipped in the
cathedral during the civil war.
The lectern, of ancient, pale brass enriched with filigree work, and
garnished with amethyst, cornelian, and agate stones, is the gift of two
former censors of the House, the Rev. T. Vere Bayne and the Rev. H.L.
Thompson. The stem, surmounted by a globe and a good conventional eagle,
bears the figures of St. Frideswide, Cardinal Wolsey, and Bishop King.
At the base are three lions bearing the arms of the Priory, the College,
and the University. The bible bears the date 1674. A beautifully
illuminated lectionary on vellum, a relic of Cardinal Wolsey, and used
by him in this church, can be seen in the Christ Church library.
The Bishop's Throne (in Italian walnut) is a not very inspired work
of Messrs. Farmer and Brindley. It was put up as a memorial to Bishop
Wilberforce, at a cost of £1000, and has a medallion of the Bishop with
mitre and pastoral staff at the back.
=The South Choir Aisle= is of an earlier period than the nave and transept
aisles, the walls being, it is thought, of Ethelred's time. A stone
bench runs along its south side, adding to its bright and pleasant
appearance. The southern windows were rebuilt by Scott in Norman
style of a different character to the window containing Bishop King's
portrait which has its original capitals and bases. The corbels which
carry the vault are carved into heads of men and baboons: the vaulting
ribs have been unmistakably fitted on to the earlier Norman work. The
Decorated east window, which, owing to the Burne Jones glass, is such
a prominent feature of the cathedral, is restored, but there is a good
deal of the original ball-flower moulding around it. At the side is a
late Perpendicular piscina, with bold, square flowers cut on the jambs;
and on the pillars opposite there are traces of paintings, which must
have been very bright-coloured once, and would very likely be so still,
had it not been for Brian Duppa's wood-work.
=Monuments=.--There is an old brass on the wall, near the eastern end,
to Stephen Pence, who died in 1587. Near this is a not very pleasing
life-size medallion of Prince Leopold in statuary marble set in Sicilian
marble; it was sculptured by Mr. T. Williamson of Esher. The bronze
tablet, with the portrait in relief of Dr. Mackarness, the late Bishop,
is very much better both in colour and design. Further west another
medallion in statuary marble, set in giallo antico, commemorates Sarah
Acland, the wife of Sir Henry Acland, who is an Honorary Student of
the House, and was for many years Regius Professor of Medicine in the
University; the Sarah Acland Home for Nurses keeps her pious memory fresh
in Oxford.
The late Tudor monument to the first Bishop of Oxford, _Robert King_, has
been removed from its former place under his window to the bay between the
aisle and St. Lucy's Chapel, where it now forms a sort of small screen
to the little chapel. Bishop King died in 1557; his tomb is recessed,
canopied, and covered with shallow panel-work in minute divisions, but
without any effigy, sculptured or incised. Though it is among the last
works of the mediæval school of monumental architecture, it is still
graceful and restrained; and indeed a great contrast to the new style
of monument which came in a few years later. _Inscription:--Hic jacet
Robertus King sacre theologie Professor et primus Ep'us Oxon. qui obiit
quarto die Decembris Anno (Domini M.D. LVII)_.
Crossing to the north side of the choir, one reaches the beautiful
cluster of chapels which add so much to the grace of the cathedral,
relieving it of any grimness of aspect which its unbroken array of
massive columns might otherwise have produced, and by their unaffected
dissimilarity enhancing at once its historical interest and its visible
charm. Here the eye wanders among pillars and arches which branch away
in so many directions that the grandest churches can scarcely give more
thoroughly the idea of infinity. And here one stands on the site of St.
Frideswide's first little church, with the very arches that she had
built for her, still standing in all their primitive simplicity. These
three aisles, and the south aisle on the opposite side of the choir, are
indeed eloquent of the unpretentious, lasting work that brave women have
done for humanity: the latter has become, through its window, sacred to
the memory of St. Catherine, whose own Latin Chapel is now for the same
reason inseparably connected with St. Frideswide. St. Cecilia looks down
upon the aisle next the choir, and the chapel of Our Lady is separated
from it only by the monument of the Saxon maiden, while St. Lucy has
given her name to the fifth and smallest of these eastern chapels. Thus
has this great society of learned men taken pleasure in doing honour to
the good women of Christendom.
=The North Choir Aisle= and the two aisles which adjoin it were lengthened
one bay by the gradual inclusion of the eastern aisle of the transept.
A heavy pier has been left with no attempt at decoration on the transept
side but with a cluster of shafts on the side facing east; and the next
pier to the north has been similarly treated. It will be noticed that the
arches over these western bays of the north choir aisle and Lady Chapel,
being the arches of the old transept aisle, are extremely massive;
unlike anything else in the church, except the one remaining arch, is
the corresponding south transept aisle (now St. Lucy's Chapel): these
are therefore thought to be unrestored parts of Ethelred's works. The
fact that Norman vaulting shafts have evidently been inserted into the
pier walls of the aisles point also to the conclusion that the aisle
was erected at a date when vaulting shafts were not in use.
At the east end there is a small arch, extremely rough, its ragstone
voussoirs patched in one part with a block of modern stone. A similar
arch is to be seen in the wall of the next (Lady) Chapel, and between
these two are traces of another. These three arches led to one of the
most interesting architectural discoveries of recent years; and one can
hardly look at them unmoved, remembering that they form part of the
original church which was built by St. Frideswide and her father. They
were indeed the three "chancel arches" (if one may use the expression)
which led into the three apses, the discovery of which we have described
in our chapter on the exterior of the cathedral.
It was not till 1888 that the plaster was removed from the walls, and
these arches exposed to view. It was then obvious that they had been
part of a permanent church, and not merely temporary doorways for the
convenience of Norman masons. Rough as they seem, to the expert they
bear marks of care and repair, of having been, in fact, preserved as a
specially venerated part of the church. As an instance of this, Mr. Park
Harrison points out that one of the supporting stones is quite two feet
long (longer than any other in the cathedral), and has Norman tooling
upon it. It can scarcely be doubted, he says, that this was introduced
to support the springing-stones of the arch, for there are clear signs
that there had been some settlement. The head of the archways, too,
had been plastered. In both archways there is an impost (a projection,
that is, from which the arch springs), and this impost is continued
through the thickness of the wall. It will be noticed that the jambs of
these arches go more than two feet below the level of the floor, which
is another sign of their early date. Within the apse that was reached
through the southernmost archway lay the body of St. Frideswide in its
first resting-place, and for long this part seems to have been held in
special veneration, until the first translation in 1180, when the relics
of "The Lady" were moved into a more noted place in the church, and this
apse doubtless abandoned like the other two. Somewhere here the relics
were then placed (as they lie to-day in the ground beneath this chapel),
but the first monument has been lost. Of the second monument, which also
was lost but is found again, it is now the place to speak. But, first,
it may be well to explain that what is usually called the shrine of St.
Frideswide is really the marble monument, or base, upon which the shrine
itself formerly rested. In the Middle Ages, relics (with the two English
exceptions of Westminster and St. Albans) were preserved in a shrine,
usually of metal, which was enclosed in a coffer or _feretrum_.
=The Shrine of St. Frideswide=.--Foremost in historical interest,
as well as in actual beauty, are the remains of the marble monument
which have recently been put together and set up in the easternmost
arch between the Lady Chapel and the north choir aisle. The coffer
or shrine, which was made for the translation in 1289 (its base being
therefore the most ancient monument in the cathedral), was knocked to
pieces at the Reformation (1538), and, being of wood, must have entirely
perished. But gradually, and from different places, fragments of the base
were brought together: first, several pieces of delicately carved marble
were discovered in the sides of a square well in the yard south-west of
the cathedral; then a part of the plinth on the south side was found to
be in use as a step, luckily with the carved portion turned inwards;
next, a spandrel was detected by Mr. Francis, the head verger, in the
wall of the cemetery; and last of all a piece of the plinth was found
in a wall in Tom Quad. Though some portions are still wanting, it is
not impossible that more may yet be found.
As the monument stands now, it cannot, of course, impress one as it
would have done in its perfect state, with the rich superstructure
crowning it: especially as the restored shafts are merely square
stone supports of the clumsiest description, so studiously careful
has the restorer been not to confuse them with the original work. One
cannot but applaud this conscientious spirit (would, indeed, that it
had been adopted earlier!), but at the same time the modern supports
have been made quite unnecessarily hideous. Still, though the base
of St. Frideswide's shrine is only a collection of fragments, these
fragments are of remarkable beauty and interest. It is of Forest marble,
measuring seven feet by three and a half; and consists of an arcade of
two richly cusped arches at the sides and one at each end. On the top
of this was fixed the _feretrum_, containing the jewelled casket that
held the relics themselves. The spandrels are filled with wonderfully
carved foliage, unusually naturalistic, and preserving still the traces
of colour and gilding to remind one of its former glories. The plants
have been identified by Mr. Druce of High Street, the well-known Oxford
botanist. On the south side there is maple in the central spandrel,
with a wreath of what is probably crow's-foot in a boss below: the two
side spandrels contain columbine and the greater celandine. On the north
side the foliage is mostly oak, with acorns and numerous empty cups;
sycamore and ivy filling the adjoining spandrels. At the east end one
of the spandrels contains vine leaves and grapes, the other fig-leaves,
but without the fruit; the cusp under the vine has a leaf which may be
that of hog-leaf. At the west end there is hawthorn and bryony. The choice
of all this foliage was doubtless made for symbolical reasons, referring
first to St. Frideswide's life in the oak woods near Abingdon, and next
to her care for the sick and suffering at Thornberrie (now Binsey). And
in this connection it is pleasant to think that the sculptor, with tender
fancy, chose plants which were famous for their healing virtue.
The foliage at the angles takes the form of pastoral staves; and the
intermediate spandrels at the sides have women's heads carved in the
centre. The plinth, which has been set on a chamfered base and step of
white stone, is ornamented with a series of quatrefoils, containing the
head of a bishop at the north-west corner, and the heads of queens on
the south side. Foliage, instead of a head, occupies the centre and end
panels on the sides; and very delicate foliage is worked on a little
roll moulding extant at two of the angles.
Here is an account of the destruction of the shrine, and the treatment
of its relics, in the words of Dean Liddell[3]:--
"It is a strange story. It is well known that, before the Reformation,
the Church of St. Frideswide and her shrine enjoyed a high reputation as
a place of sanctity. Privileges were conceded to it by royal authority.
Miracles were believed to be wrought by a virtue attaching to it; pilgrims
from all parts resorted to it,--among the number we find the name of
Queen Catherine of Aragon, whose visit to the shrine shows the veneration
in which it was held. Twice a year the Vice-Chancellor and principal
members of the University visited the church in solemn procession,
being considered (as we are told) the 'Mother Church of University and
town,--there to pray, preach, and offer oblations at her shrine.'
"These practices and privileges not unnaturally seemed to the zealous
Reformers of those times to call for summary interference. The old
superstitions, which certainly gave rise to many abuses, must, they
thought, be abated at once; nothing but strong measures would avail to
withdraw the minds of the people, nurtured as they were in absolute belief
in these superstitions, from belief in them. Accordingly, we cannot be
surprised to find that this famous shrine was doomed to destruction,
and was actually destroyed. When this happened it is not easy to
determine,--probably in the time of Henry VIII. The fragments were used
either at the time, or not long afterwards, to form part of the walls
of a common well; and there we found them. The reliques of the Saint,
however, were rescued by some zealous votaries, and carefully preserved
in hope of better times. Meantime Catherine (the wife of Peter Martyr,
a foreign Protestant theologian of high repute, who had been appointed
Regius Professor of Theology here) died, and was buried near the place
lately occupied by the shrine. Over her grave sermons were preached,
contrasting the pious zeal of the German Protestant with the superstitious
practices that had tarnished the simplicity of the Saxon Saint. Then
came another change. The Roman Church under Mary Tudor recovered a brief
supremacy. The body of Peter Martyr's wife was (one regrets to learn),
by order of Cardinal Pole, contemptuously cast out of the church, and
the remains of St. Frideswide, preserved, as I have said, by the piety
of her devotees, were restored to their former resting-place. But it
does not appear that any attempt was made to restore the shrine. Party
zeal still prevailed. Angry contests continued between the adherents of
the two parties even after the accession of Elizabeth.
"In consequence, the Queen, soon after her accession, ordered Parker,
Archbishop of Canterbury, and Grindal, Bishop of London, to look into
this and other matters in dispute between the adherents of the Roman
Church and those of the Reformed Faith; and these eminent ecclesiastics
commissioned the authorities of this House to remove the scandal that
had been caused by the inhuman treatment of Catherine Martyr's body. The
matter was conducted by James Calfhill, lately appointed to a stall in
this church, and then acting as sub-dean. In a letter to Bishop Grindal
he gives an account of the ceremony that took place. He was resolved, if
we may judge from his action, not to give a triumph to either party. On
Jan. 11th, 1561, O.S., the bones of the Protestant Catherine and the
Catholic St. Frideswide were put together, so intermingled that they
could not be distinguished, and then placed together in the same tomb.
This solution of the difficulty could not have been displeasing to the
great Queen, who had been consistently endeavouring rather to win over
her opponents by conciliation than to crush them by persecution. We may
well suppose that she approved of the act of our Dean and Chapter. Death
is the great reconciler; enmities should, at all events, be buried with
the dead."
Calfhill, the sub-dean, wrote two epigrams on the burial of Catherine
Martyr with St. Frideswide. The first ends thus: _Ergo facessant hinc
rabida impietas, inde superstitio_; the other thus: _Nunc coeant pietas
atque superstitio_. Perhaps these apparently contradictory sentiments
led Isaac Disraeli (in his account of this curious transaction, which
he selects in his "Amenities of Literature" as an illustration of the
mutability of time) to remark that Calfhill "seems to have been at once a
Catholic and a Reformer." Sanders the Jesuit was indignant at the "impious
epithet," which he says was added, _hic jacet religio cum superstitione_;
"although," says old Fuller, "the words being capable of a favourable
sense on his side, he need not have been so angry."
The exact spot where the bones of The Lady now rest is supposed to be
marked by a brass on the floor of the Lady Chapel, lately placed there by
Canon Bright. But we can only be certain that, somewhere in this part of
the church, "the married nun and the virgin saint," to use Froude's words,
"were buried together, and the dust of the two still remains under the
pavement inextricably blended."
=The Lady Chapel=, which is the aisle next to the north choir aisle, is
sometimes called "the Dormitory," because many of the canons are buried
here: the word being a literal translation of the Greek _coemeterium_
(sleeping-place), applied to the catacombs of Rome. It was enlarged,
with the Early English pillars and vaulting of the period, in the
thirteenth century. The shafts are filleted, and the capitals carved
in the characteristic curling foliage. It owes its position possibly
to the original dedication of the eighth century church; though the
Elder Lady Chapel of Bristol Cathedral, another Augustinian house, is
similarly situated. Its eastern wall proves that it must have already
existed long before the thirteenth century. The most casual observer
will also be struck by the ingenuous clumsiness with which it has been
patched together. There is a fine Decorated four-centred window at the
East End, restored to its present condition from the mean two-light
window that the seventeenth century had made of it: underneath, at the
side of the blocked-up Saxon doorway, is a once richly coloured piscina,
the outer moulding much damaged. The roof and arches of the second bay
from the east bears many traces of colouring, which show among other
things that the capitals were all painted green alike, the abaci red,
and the ribs of the vault and arches red, green, and perhaps other
colours. The figures of angels can be made out on the roof, a swinging
censer being particularly clear. A glance from here at the high altar
makes one realise how much more bright and strong the old colour was,
and is indeed even now, than the modern. This decoration proves that in
the second bay stood something of particular importance. It is generally
agreed now that this was not the shrine of St. Frideswide but the altar
of Our Lady, for shrines were placed behind and not before the altars.
Such an arrangement would leave the eastern bay of the chapel free for
the two shrines, the large one (commonly called the "Watching Chamber")
and the small one recently discovered and placed opposite to it under
the south-east arch. The fact that this arch is also coloured, and is
the only other part which is thus treated, goes to prove that the small
shrine did originally stand where it now is. Another sign is that the
pillar nearest to the east end of it has been cut away, evidently to
allow of a free passage round the shrine.
The Lady Chapel is divided from the Latin Chapel by four arches. Of
these the first, being part of the original transept aisle, is very
plain and massive, without mouldings and of one order; it springs from
a square pier with shafts at the corners, and has an extremely broad
soffit. It is almost beyond doubt part of Ethelred's church, and proves
that the transept was finished early. The second arch is Early English,
cut irregularly through the wall, which bears traces of a round arch
above it. The first of the four arches which separate this chapel from
the north choir aisle is similar to the one just described. The rest are
very obtuse; for the two eastern bays of the Lady Chapel are two feet
wider than the others, perhaps in order to increase the accommodation
for worshippers at the shrine of St. Frideswide.
=The "Watching Chamber."=--Next in interest to the "shrine," and far more
imposing in appearance, is the large tomb or watching chamber under the
easternmost arch between the Lady Chapel and the Latin Chapel. Its real
nature is still a matter of dispute: some maintaining it to have been
used as a chantry chapel for the welfare of those who were buried below;
others that it served as a "watching chamber" to protect the gold and
jewels which hung about the shrine of St. Frideswide. But there is much
likelihood that is was built for the new shrine of St. Frideswide, when
the growing taste for elaboration in architecture tired of the comparative
simplicity of the old one. If this be the case, the "watching chamber"
would be in reality the third and last monument of St. Frideswide, the
second being that already described, while of the first (that made for
the Translation of 1180) no trace remains. The _feretrum_ would have been
removed from its position on the second monument, and placed within the
little wooden chapel of the chamber.
Most elaborately carved and crocketed, the "watching chamber" is a
beautiful example of full-blown Perpendicular workmanship; "most lovely
English work, both of heart and hand," according to Mr. Ruskin. It
consists of four stories, the two lower, in stone, forming an altar tomb
and canopy, and the two upper in wood. A door from the Latin Chapel
leads one up a small and well-worn stone staircase into the interior of
the little upper chapel, which is now a rough wooden room. Its extreme
roughness suggests that it was once panelled and otherwise adorned,
while there are marks at its east end, which may be the site of an altar,
or of the _feretrum_ itself.
The "watching chamber" belongs to the turn of the fifteenth century, and
may have been erected in 1500, under the patronage of Archbishop Morton,
the inventor of "Morton's fork," who died in that year, having been
Chancellor of the University, and a great benefactor of it. The stone
altar-tomb is of rather earlier date than the wooden superstructure, and
bears the matrices of two brasses, from which one can make out enough of
the horned head-dress of the female figure to settle the costume as one
that remained in fashion till about 1480.
In 1889 Mr. Park Harrison explored the interior of the tomb which forms
the lower portion of the "watching chamber." Entrance was effected by the
removal of two steps of the staircase which leads into the Latin Chapel,
and the whole space beneath the stone slab was found to be packed with
carved stones and rubble. The pretty battlemented coping, which is now
happily placed on the sill behind the altar of the Latin Chapel, was
thus found; and also a pillar piscina of Norman date, and a fine Early
English piscina, with two trefoiled arches, divided by a slender shaft
with foliated cap, and profusely enriched with the tooth ornament. This
latter find can now be seen lying on the slab itself.
By an accident it was discovered that what seemed to be the floor of
this tomb was really the ceiling of a vault beneath. The pavement was
opened in the Latin Chapel just outside the tomb, and steps were found
which led to the vault through a flat four-centred doorway. In the vault
was a single oak coffin, widest at the head and tapering in a straight
line to the foot, like the stone coffins of an earlier period. It was
apparently of fifteenth century date, and contained a body closely
swathed in cerecloth; but after the coffin was opened the dust within
the cerecloth rapidly subsided. The body was pronounced by experts to be
that of a woman about five feet six inches in height, and was probably
that of the lady in the mitred head-dress whose brass can be traced on
the altar-tomb.
[Illustration: LADY MONTACUTE'S TOMB.]
=Monuments in the Lady Chapel=.--In the bay of the west of the "watching
chamber" is the tomb of _Elizabeth, Lady Montacute_, who gave to the
Priory the large field now known as the Christ Church Meadow, in order to
maintain two priests for her chantry in the Lady Chapel. There seems to
be no ground for the statement that she built the Latin Chapel; in her
foundation-deed she expressly directs the masses and other offices to be
said "within the chapel of the Blessed Mary," and, so far from her bequest
proving sufficient to build a new chapel, it was soon found inadequate
for the maintenance of the two chantry priests. Lady Montacute was the
daughter of Sir Peter de Montfort, and was married first to William de
Montacute, by whom she had four sons and six daughters, and afterwards
to Thomas de Furnival. Her monument consists of a high tomb, the sides of
which are divided into three panelled compartments. In these compartments
are little statuettes of her children, and her own effigy rests on the
top; at the head and foot of the tomb are quatrefoiled compartments
containing sacred symbols and figures. It is very beautiful, and of
great interest as showing many specimens of the costume of the period;
but one can hardly imagine what its splendour must have been when the
rich hues, with which it is painted in every part, were fresh. The colours
mentioned in the following learned description by Mr M.H. Bloxham
have long tended to monochrome, and the hand of the mutilator has been
unusually painstaking and systematic.
"The head of the effigy reposes on a double cushion, and is supported on
each side by a small figure of an angel in an alb; these albs are loose,
and not girded round the waist. The heads of these figures are defaced,
and they are otherwise much mutilated. She is represented with her neck
bare, her hair disposed and confined on each side, the face within a
jewelled caul of network; over the forehead is worn a veil, and over this
is a rich cap or plaited head-dress with nébulé folds, with a tippet
attached to it and falling down behind. Her body-dress consists of a robe
or sleeveless gown, fastened in front downwards to below the waist by a
row of ornamented buttons. The full skirts of the gown are tastefully
disposed, but not so much so as we sometimes find on effigies of the
fourteenth century. The gown is of a red colour, flowered with yellow
and green, and at each side of the waist is an opening, within which is
disclosed the inner vest, of which the close-fitting sleeves of the arms,
extending to the wrists, form part; this is painted of a different colour
and in a different pattern to the gown. This was probably the corset worn
beneath the open super-tunic. The gown is flounced at the skirts by a
broad white border, and round the side openings, and along the border
of the top of the gown, is a rich border of leaves. The hands, which
are bare, are joined on the breast in a devotional attitude. Over the
gown or super-tunic is worn the mantle, fastened together in front
of the breast by a large and rich lozenge-shaped morse, raised in
high relief. The mantle, of a buff colour, is covered all over with
rondeaux or roundels connected together by small bands, whilst in the
intermediate spaces are _fleur de lis_: all these are of raised work,
and deserve minute examination. They are apparently not executed by means
of the chisel, but formed in some hard paste or composition [_gesso_]
laid upon the sculptured stone and impressed with a stamp. The feet of
the effigy appear from beneath the skirts of the gown in black shoes,
and rest against a dog."
Of the statuettes on each side of Lady Montacute's tomb, which are each
a foot and a half high, Mr Bloxham says:--
"The first and easternmost of these, on the north side, is the most
puzzling and difficult of all to describe, as regards the costume,
and the more so from the mutilated state in which it now appears. It is
that of a male, who is habited in a red cloak, the borders of which are
jagged. This is buttoned in front to the waist by lozenge-shaped morses,
and may have been the garment called the Courtepye, and discloses a short
white tunic or vest, plaited in vertical folds, with a bawdrick round
the body at the hips."
"Next to this is the effigy in relief of an abbess, in a long loose white
gown or robe, a black mantle over, connected in front of the breast by
a chain, with a tippet of the same colour. The head has been destroyed,
but remains of the plaited wimple which covered the neck in front are
visible, as also of the white veil on each shoulder. The pastoral staff
appears on the left side, but the crook is gone.
"Two daughters of Lady Montacute were in succession Abbess of Barking,
in Essex, and so, next to the last figure is another abbess similarly
dressed, with the exception that the left sleeve of the gown, which is
large and wide, is seen, as well as the close sleeve of the inner robe.
Sculptured figures of abbesses, especially of this period, are extremely
rare.
"The next figure is that of a female, in a green high-bodied gown or
robe, with small pocket-holes in front and sleeves reaching only to the
elbows. The fifth figure is also that of a female, in a white robe or
gown, with close sleeves, close fitting to the waist, where it is belted
round by a narrow girdle, and thence falls in loose folds to the feet;
over this is a black mantle. There are also indications of a plaited
wimple about the neck, but the head of this, as of the other effigies,
has been destroyed.
"On the south side, the easternmost figure, of which the mere torso
remains, is that of a male in a doublet, jagged at the skirts,
and buttoned down in front from, the neck to the skirts, with close
sleeves buttoned from the elbows to the wrists,--_manicae botonatae_,
with a bawdrick, round the hips, and buckled on the right side. From the
bawdrick on the left side the gipciere is suspended. This much mutilated
effigy presents a good specimen of the early doublet.
"Next to it is the figure of a male, in a long red coat or gown, the
_toga talaris_, with a cloak over, buttoned in front downwards from the
neck as far as the third button, from whence it is open to the skirts.
This dress, in the phrase of the fourteenth century, would be described
as _cota et cloca_. In the right hand is held a purse.
"Next to this is the figure of a Bishop, intended possibly to represent
Simon, Bishop of Ely, 1337-1344, one of the sons of Lady Montacute. He
appears in his episcopal vestments, a white alb, with the apparel in
front of the skirt, a black dalmatica fringed and open at the sides,
and a chocolate-coloured chesible, with orfreys round the border and
disposed in front pall-wise. The parures or apparels of the amice give
it a stiff and collar-like appearance. The head of this effigy has been
destroyed, and the outline of the mitre is only visible. The pastoral
staff has been destroyed, with the exception of the pointed ferrule with
which it was shod. It was, however, held by the left hand. The maniple
is suspended from the left arm, but no traces of the stole are visible.
In more than one instance we may notice on episcopal effigies the absence
of either the tunic or dalmatica, and sometimes of the stole.
"The fourth figure is that of a lady in a gown or robe buttoned down in
front from the breast to the waist, and with sleeves reaching only to
the elbows, from whence depend long white liripipes or false hanging
sleeves; small pocket holes are visible in front. From beneath this
gown or super-tunic the loose skirts of the under robe, of which also
the close-fitting sleeves are visible, appear. Behind this figure are the
remains of a mantle. The fifth and last figure is also that of a female in
a gown or super-tunic, close-fitting, and buttoned in front to the waist."
The quatrefoiled compartments at the ends of the tomb are particularly
good: they contain,--at the head, the Blessed Virgin and Child, between
a winged figure at a desk and an eagle, which are the symbols of St.
Matthew and St. John the Evangelist,--at the foot, the symbols of SS.
Mark and Luke, and between them a woman in gown and mantle with long
flowing hair, probably St. Mary Magdalene. The shields in the panels are
blazoned with the arms of Montacute, Furnival, and Montfort.
On a pillar near Lady Montacute's tomb there are two brasses; one bearing
a graceful kneeling figure of _Johañ, Bishop filii Geo. Bishop_, who
died March 23rd, 1588; the other of Thomas Thornton, who died August
17th, 1613.
The next tomb to the west of Lady Montacute is that of a Prior, supposed
to be _Alexander de Sutton_, prior from 1294 to 1316. It used to be
called Guimond's tomb, and Prior Philip's, but it cannot, of course,
be of their time: for the beautiful canopy, supported by Purbeck shafts
with vine-leaf capitals, and powdered with ball-flower without, and
groined within, as well as the figure beneath it, are Decorated, and
belong to the reign of Edward I., about a hundred and fifty years later
than Guimond's death in 1141. There were formerly figures at the angles,
of which one on the north-west remains with a little of its original
colour. The effigy, also of Purbeck marble, is thus described by Mr.
M.H. Bloxham:--"The head of the effigy, which is bare and tonsured, with
flowing locks by the sides of the face, reposes on a double cushion. The
Prior is represented vested, with the amice about his neck with the
apparel; in the alb, the apparels of which appear at the skirt in front
and round the close-fitting sleeves at the wrists; with the stole, and
dalmatica or tunic--which, it is somewhat difficult to say: these two
latter are not sculptured, but merely painted on the effigy, and are
only apparent on a careful examination; over these is worn the chesible.
This vestment is very rich, and ornamented with orfreys round the borders,
over the shoulders, and straight down in front. Hanging down from the
left arm is the maniple. The boots are pointed at the toes, and the
feet rest against a lion. There is no indication of the pastoral staff;
the hands are joined on the breast." Another proof of its fourteenth
century date is that the face is close-shaven: had it been an effigy of
the twelfth century the face would have been bearded.
[Illustration: ORNAMENT FROM A TOMB IN CHRIST CHURCH.]
West of this is the tomb of _Sir George Nowers_ (de Nodariis), who died
in 1425. His effigy gives one a good idea of the armour of his time--or
rather of a period slightly before his death. Mr. Bloxham, who devoted
special attention to these three monuments, thus describes the armour:--
"On the head is a conical basinet attached by a lace down the sides of the
face to a camail or tippet of mail, which covers the head and shoulders,
epaulières, rere, and vambraces, and coudes incase the shoulders, arms,
and elbows, and on the hands are gauntlets of plate. The body-armour
is covered with an emblazoned jupon, with an ornamental border of
leaves, and round this, about the hips, is a rich horizontally disposed
bawdrick. Beneath the jupon, which is charged with the bearing--three
garbs Or--is seen the skirt or apron of mail. The thighs, knees, legs,
and feet are incased in and protected by cuisses, genouillères, jambs,
and sollerets, the latter composed of movable lamina; or plates, and
rounded at the toes. The feet of this effigy rest against a collared dog,
and the head reposes on a tilting helm, surmounted by a bull's head as
a crest." On a scutcheon at the head of the tomb are the knight's arms:
they are--a fess between three garbs, impaling a chevron between three
greyhounds.
On the pier at the foot of Sir George Nowers' tomb is fixed the remarkably
characteristic monument of _Robert Burton_, the famous author of "The
Anatomy of Melancholy," who died in 1639, having been Student of Christ
Church for forty years, and also Vicar of St. Thomas', Oxford. His bust is
coloured, and surrounded by an oval frame; it should be a good likeness,
and one fancies that the face is drenched in melancholy.
On the frame are two medallions with a sphere, and a curious calculation
of his nativity, composed by himself, and placed here by his brother
William, the historian of Leicestershire. The inscription, written by
himself, is:--
Paucis notus, paucioribus ignotus
Hic jacet
Democritus Junior
Cui vitam dedit et mortem
Melancholia.
At the south side of the Montacute tomb there is a stone in the floor with
a large cross upon it, and an inscription in Lombardic characters of which
these words can be made out:--_Johan: de: col ... v. le: gist: id: Dieu
... Merci. Pour: lame: prier: dis: jours: de: pardon: aver: amen_.
In the north aisle of the choir a stone commemorates _Andreas de Soltre
quondam rector Ecclesiae de Kalleyn_; and a brass, James Coorthoppe,
Canon of Christ Church 1546, and Dean of Peterborough till his death in
1557. On the floor of this aisle there is also a small brass with the
figure of a youth, with the Courtenay arms, and this inscription:--_Hic
jacet Edvardus Courtenay, filius Hugonis Courtenay, filii Comitis Devomæ,
cujus animæ propicietur Deus_. This Hugh Courtenay, the father of the
lad, must have been either Hugh second Earl of Devon, or his son Hugh,
surnamed _le Fitz_, one of the heroes of Crécy.
=Glass in the Aisles=.--The three lovely east windows of the aisles and
Lady Chapel were designed by Sir Edward Burne-Jones and executed by Mr.
William Morris. The only possible criticism is that made by Mr. Ruskin,
who once said that they were beautiful pictures, but were they windows?
They are perhaps open to the objection, but a comparison of them with the
Reynolds windows in New College Chapel, which are flagrant offenders in
this way, makes one feel that the objection is purely formal, and that
these are true windows, adding colour and interest to the old cathedral
in a perfectly legitimate way. One is naturally prejudiced against large
figures pictorially treated, because of the atrocities of the Munich
school, but these were made, not at Munich but at Merton, by the most
accomplished craftsman of the century.
The first window, that in the Lady Chapel, was erected in memory of
Frederick Vyner, an undergraduate of the House, who was murdered by
brigands at Marathon in 1870. The figures represent Samuel the Prophet,
David, King of Israel, John the Evangelist, and Timothy the Bishop. In
the panels beneath are, Eli instructing the young Samuel, David slaying
Goliath, St. John at the last supper, and Timothy as a little boy learning
from his mother. The legends are:--(1) _Loquere Domine, quia audit servus
tuus_, and in the panel _Prope est Dominus quibus invocantibus eum_; (2)
_Deus, Deus, meus, ad te de luce vigilo_, and _Tua est Domine victoria_;
(3) _Qui recubit in coena super pectus ejus_, and _Quis nos separabit
a charitate Christi_; (4) _Dabit tibi Dominus in omnibus intellectum_,
and _Statuit super petram pedes meos_.
At the end of the north choir aisle is the St. Cecilia window, presented
in honour of the patroness of music by Dr. Corfe, a former organist,
in 1873. In the centre light the saint is represented playing her regal
or small hand-organ; two angels holding other musical instruments, with
palms in their hands, stand by her. The drapery is wrought in white glass,
the angels have pale blue wings, and the flesh tints matted over with red
tell warm against the drapery. In the lower panels are three scenes from
her life: "Here St. Cecilia teaches her husband," "Here an angel of the
Lord teaches St. Cecilia," "Here St. Cecilia wins a heavenly crown;" the
saint's figure in this last panel is most touchingly drawn. These lower
panels are richer in colour than the rest, and a greater variety of tints
is introduced; but the colours are so delicate, and so skilfully blended,
that they fall in most harmoniously with the main parts of the window.
As the neighbouring window just described is full of the robust strength
of manhood, so this one, in colour as well as in design, is graceful,
delicate, and feminine. Probably it will lead to the north choir aisle
being known by the name of St. Cecilia, whose art has certainly many
votaries in Oxford. Mr. Malcolm Bell, in his monograph on Burne-Jones,
gives the following description of the St. Cecilia window:--
"A still more beautiful instance of the use of simple figures with
complicated draperies is found in the lovely St. Cecilia window, executed
in 1874-5, a companion to the 'St. Catherine,' executed in 1878, in
Christ Church Cathedral at Oxford, in which, moreover, it is enhanced
by the soberness of the colouring, which, with the exception of a few
touches of stronger hues in the lower panels, is green, and white, and
gold, symbolic of the lily of heaven, into which mediæval commentators
tortured the meaning of her name. The saint herself stands in the middle,
with attendant angels on either side, bearing the palm of martyrdom,
who hush their harmony while she plays. Below the left-hand angel,
St. Cecilia, seated on her bed, reads to her husband Valirian the lesson
of chastity. In the centre the angel brings to them the miraculous proof
of the justification of her faith which he demanded from her:
"Valirian goth home, and sint Cecilie
Withinne his chaumbre with an aungel stonde,
This aungel had of roses and of lillie
Corounes two, the which he bar in honde.
[Illustration: THE "ST. CECILIA" WINDOW, BY SIR EDWARD BURNE-JONES.]
"The lilies, symbolical of virgin purity; the roses, of victory over
death. In the third, the executioner holds her by one hand as she
kneels on the floor of her bath-room, which is seen in the background,
the steam still rising in it after the ineffectual attempt to roast her
to death. With his sword raised he is about to strike the first of the
three blows which failed to cut off her head.
"And for ther was that tyme an ordinaunce
That no man sholde do man such penaunce
The ferthe stroke to smyten, softe or sore
This tormentour durste do no more."
At the end of the south choir aisle is the third figure window of
Burne-Jones. It is dedicated to St. Catherine, and is in memory of Edith
Liddell, a daughter of the late Dean, "who, having been scarcely five days
betrothed, seized by a sudden attack of illness, rendered her spirit to
God, June 26th, 1876." St. Catherine, crowned, is the central figure:
she is painted in the likeness of Edith Liddell. On the right is the
Angel of Suffering and Submission, with mutilated hands, the wheel of
torture and flames beneath; on the left is the Angel of Deliverance,
crushing the wheel of torture and scattering the flames. The draperies
are white, the wings of the angels are a pale blue, and the curtains
hanging at the back of the figures of a rich greenish blue, while
the detailed background is cut out of violet-coloured glass, a daring
but thoroughly successful arrangement. In the tracery above are angels
playing triumphant music. The whole is as beautifully executed as it is
finely conceived. In the three lower panels are scenes from the life and
death of the saint:--(1) She disputes with philosophers, pleading for her
fellow Christians, and demonstrating _avec force syllogismes_ the truth of
Christianity, and the falsity of paganism. This little panel has as large
an effect as if it were a fresco covering half a wall. (2) Her dream,
in which she is led through a wilderness by the blessed Virgin into the
presence of our Lord, who is seated amid a concourse of cherubim. The
way in which the cherubim are cut out of tones of ruby, full of depth,
and without a suspicion of crudeness, should be noticed, and compared
with the treatment of ruby glass elsewhere. This is perhaps the most
beautifully drawn picture of all; and the figure of St. Mary is something
not to be forgotten. (3) St. Catherine is laid in the tomb by angels.
The inscriptions are:--_Agnus reget illos, et deducet eos ad vitae fontes
aquarum, et absterget Deus omnem lachrymam ab oculis eorum. Timor Domini
ipsa est sapientia. Beati mundo corde quoniam Deum videbunt. Cum dederit
dilectis suis somnum._
The two first windows in the wall of the south choir aisle, in memory of
Dr. Jelf, Canon from 1830-1871, are by Hardman. Next is a most interesting
glass painting of Bishop King, last abbot of Oseney, and first Bishop of
Oxford, which is perhaps from the hand of Van Ling. This window, with
some others, was taken down during the Civil War, buried for safety by
a member of the family, and put up again at the Restoration. The Bishop
is represented standing vested in a jewelled cope of cloth of gold,
and mitre, a pastoral staff in his gloved hand. In the background, among
the trees, is a picture of Oseney Abbey in its already ruined condition
(c. 1630), drawn without much feeling for its architecture, but of great
value as almost the only picture of the place we possess. The western
tower was the first home of what are now the Christ Church bells. Three
coats of arms (being those of the Bishop, impaled with the abbey of
Oseney and the see of Oxford) complete the richness of what is a very
good example of seventeenth century _painted_ glass, in the strict sense
of the word.
It is to be regretted that some of the glass, which formerly was seen by
everybody in the cathedral, has been removed to the chapter-house, where
it is seen by few: among the glass thus removed the lovely I.H.C. should
not be missed.
=The Latin Chapel= (St. Catherine's, or the Divinity Chapel, St. Catherine
being the patroness of students in theology) was built on to the rest
in two parts, the walls of the Lady Chapel being cut into arches, and
duly fitted with shafts. The first bay from the west is, like that of
the Lady Chapel, part of the transept aisle; the second bay was built
in the thirteenth century, so as to form a chapel like that of St. Lucy
on the south side of the church; the third and fourth were added in
the fourteenth century, and make now one large chapel, very secluded
and self-contained, a kind of _hortus inclusus_ that has an attraction
peculiarly its own, and dwells pleasantly in the memory of every one who
sees it. It is that supremely excellent thing, a church within a church,
without which no cathedral can be what its builders intended it to be;
nor any religious building fulfil that instinctive desire of men for an
inner place, where they can find their way to the inner places of their
own hearts. In such a home of recollectedness, doubly guarded against the
dogging world without, is "rest without languor and recreation without
excitement"; in such a place one is "never less alone than when alone";
and the fine sympathy with the needs of workaday humanity, which led
mediæval architects to build such sanctuaries as this chapel here, or
the Lady Chapel of so many churches, had led men in far earlier ages to
find room even within the travelling tabernacle of a wandering tribe for
a holy place and a holy of holies. Such being the case, it was like the
crude instincts of the "dark ages of architecture" to choose this very
chapel as most suitable for a lecture-hall--out of all the lofty rooms
in the spacious college. Quite lately this practice has been dropped,
and the Latin Chapel restored to something of its ancient sanctity,
though a good deal remains to be done in a place where there is not as
yet even a chair to proclaim a _siste viator_.
[Illustration: WINDOW IN THE LATIN CHAPEL.]
The Decorated vaulting was built when the chapel was enlarged in
the fourteenth century. The foliage of its bosses is very beautiful;
the water-lilies especially of the third boss, so suggestive of Oxford
streams, and the roses a little further east, are a happy combination of
naturalistic treatment with decorative restraint. It will be noticed that
the vaulting does not run true in the third bay, the Decorated work there
having been somewhat awkwardly joined to the Early English of the second
bay. That part of the old wall which forms the pier at the juncture has
been left in a strangely rough condition; the builder having seemingly
given up the problem of fitting the vaults to the unequal spaces of
the bays, and left the pier as a simple bit of old wall, without even
a moulding to mark its juncture with the vault.
A prominent feature in the Latin Chapel is the old oak stalling, which
a second inspection proves to be patchwork. The returned stalls at the
west end probably belonged to the choir of the conventual church, and
in that case would have been fitted in here when Dean Duppa "adorned"
the choir by destroying the old wood-work. Near to these is some of
the work prepared for Cardinal Wolsey's new chapel. The poppy-heads are
good specimens of wood-carving, and contain a monogram I.H.S., a heart
in a crown of thorns, a cardinal's hat, and other devices. The pulpit,
with its delicate canopy, an excellent specimen of seventeenth century
wood-work, was formerly the Vice-Chancellor's seat in another part of the
church, occupied by him during university sermons. It was then used by
the Regius Professor of Divinity for his lectures, but since the altar
was restored six years ago, the chapel has been no longer used as a
lecture room. At the time when it was refitted, a handsome ogival arch
was found in the wall near the north end of the altar: the moulding is
deeply recessed, and once the arch terminated in what must have been an
ornate finial. The top of this finial has been cut down to a level with
the window ledge, and the face of the moulding hacked off to make the wall
flat for the panelling, which has now been removed. It was probably the
"Easter Sepulchre," where the Host was deposited on Good Friday, but it
may have been the tomb of the founder of the chapel. The curious break
in the masonry at the back has not been yet explained.
The wall behind the altar is pleasantly hung with Morris velvet. The
altar itself was the high altar before the restoration of 1870. In 1890
new legs were made for it out of the old organ screen, and it was placed
in its present position.
The eastern window (inserted as a memorial to Dr. Bull) is a pathetic
instance of the corrupt following of Mr. Ruskin, which also inflicted
upon Christ Church the gaunt Meadow Buildings. It is, of course, really
as unlike Mr. Ruskin's well-loved Venetian work as anything can possibly
be: as heavy as that is light, as clumsy as that is graceful, it is ugly
and cold and dead; but it represents a genuine enthusiasm of the fifties,
and commands our respect as an honest though mistaken effort, a landmark
in the history of the architectural revival. It also illustrates a truth
which one is apt sometimes to forget,--that it is easy to appreciate
beauty, and very hard to create it.
Fortunately it is nearly lost sight of in the splendid Burne-Jones glass
which fills it, and represents another side of the artistic revival not
less important than the architectural.
=Glass in Latin Chapel=.--The beautiful windows at the side are filled
with fine fourteenth century glass, which was replaced after a long period
of exile by Dean Liddell. In the middle of each light is a figure in
canopy work, the rest of the light being covered with "quarries,"--that
is, diamond-shaped pieces of glass with leaves and flowers lightly
burnt upon them. The spaces in the tracery are ornamented with curious
medallions, and the borders with various beasts, as in St. Lucy's Chapel,
monkeys among them. The Courtenay Arms--Three Torteaux--suggest that the
family may have contributed towards building the chapel. Beginning at
the west, the first window contains a St. Catherine in the first light,
next a Madonna and holy Child (the blue pattern at the back of these
figures should be noticed); next a figure of St. Frideswide, or her
mother Saffrida.
The second window contains the figure of an archbishop, holding a cross
curiously blended into a crooked pastoral staff; angels are on either
side.
The next has St. Frideswide in the centre, with St. Margaret and St.
Catherine at her side. The patroness holds the curiously foliated sceptre
which has led to the identification of her figure in the choir boss,
and Catherine handles her wheel and sword in the same way as her statue
over the dean's stall in the choir. The last window on this side is by
Clayton and Bell, and a particularly feeble one.
The St. Frideswide window at the east end of the Latin Chapel was designed
by Sir E. Burne-Jones and executed by Messrs. Powell of the Whitefriars
Glass Works, the firm which is now making the glass for the mosaics
at St. Paul's. "Burne-Jones, an Oxford undergraduate, destined for
the Church, but gifted with high powers of romantic design, sought out
Rossetti towards June 1856, and showed him some drawings. Rossetti told
him at once that he ought to be, and must be, an artist, and he became
one." In the next year Rossetti drew the attention of the Powells to the
young artist, and they had the penetration to recognise his worth and to
employ him. But though this is one of the first windows that Burne-Jones
ever designed, it is one of his best. Better suited (as many think)
to the purpose of a window, at all events in this enclosed chapel, than
the freer method of the other glass, it carries on the best traditions
of the craft, in its infinite variety of gem-like colour and complexity
of detail; while it attains a degree of perfection in pictorial effect
and figure-drawing which was impossible during the great era of mediæval
glass-painting. The death of the saint, with its lovely effect of light
through the latticed window, for instance, and the picture of her in the
pig-sty, would be perfect as finished pictures, and yet do not for an
instant outstep the convention which is necessary for their function as
part of a window. The fact that the subjects are a little crowded is not
the artist's fault. Mr. Woodward, the architect to whom the commission
was due, made an unlucky mistake about the measurements, being in very
ill-health at the time, and indeed on the point of death. Mr. Burne-Jones'
cartoon had therefore to undergo a mechanical reduction which has
slightly affected the clearness of the designs. The colour is, in spite
(or rather because) of its radiant variety, not so immediately attractive
to everyone as that of the other Burne-Jones windows; but when one has
sat down for five or ten minutes and deciphered the various scenes, its
unapproachable beauty becomes apparent, and each succeeding visit deepens
the impression of the splendour and poetry of this incomparable work.
The scenes depicted are, by the artist's own account, as follows:--
_First Light._
St. Frideswide and her companions brought up by St. Cecilia and St. Catherine.
St. Frideswide founds her first convent.
A messenger from the King of Mercia demands her in marriage.
The King comes to take her by force, and the first convent is broken up.
_Second Light._
Flight of St. Frideswide to Abingdon.
The King of Mercia and his soldiers in pursuit,
The Flight continued.
The Pursuit continued.
St. Frideswide takes refuge in a pig-sty.
_Third Light._
Flight of St. Frideswide to Binsey.
The King of Mercia in pursuit.
St. Frideswide founds a new convent at Binsey.
Her merciful deeds.
_Fourth Light._
Return of St. Frideswide to Oxford.
The Siege of Oxford by the King of Mercia.
The Siege continued.
The King struck blind.
The Death of St. Frideswide.
[Illustration: SECTION OF TOWER, WITH A COMPARTMENT OF BAY AND CHOIR,
BEFORE THE RESTORATIONS (_Britton_).]
In the tracery above are the trees of life and of knowledge, and a ship
of souls convoyed by angels.
This east window was purchased with money left by Dr. Bull (1853), to whom
there is a monument against the western wall. There are also brasses
to the eminent Dr. Mozley (Regius Professor of Divinity till 1878),
Dr. Ogilvie (1873), Dr. Shirley (1866), Dr Barnes (1859), Archdeacon
Clerke (1877).