There are four modest shrines to which every glass lover should contrive
to repair, no matter what may be the difficulties in the way nor how
much time it may take. Of these four, one at Fairford (near Oxford) is
in England, while the other three are in France, and are the Ste.
Chapelle in Paris, the village church at Eymoutiers and Ste. Foy at
Conches. In each we find the church completely glazed in one period and,
furthermore, with the best glass then procurable. The scene that to-day
meets our eye in each of these small sanctuaries is practically the same
that rewarded the artist the day he completed his work. We have
frequently had occasion on our tours to notice how much certain glass
would have been improved if contrasting windows could but be removed
from the edifice, or the edifice itself in some way changed. There will
be no need for any such mental correction of the picture when we visit
Conches. Here, after you have closed the door on the twentieth century
life outside, you feel that you have turned back the finger of time and
are living in the days of that eloquent beauty which speaks out to you
from its windows. Perhaps nowhere else will you get the wonderful accord
of tone with tone and hue with hue that makes the colour at Conches so
radiantly lovely. We find ourselves in a very simple church about twice
as long as broad, the only departure from its rectangular plan being a
small five-sided chapel which projects from its eastern end. There is
nothing to aid the glass in its service of making splendid the interior.
In fact, one might add that there is nothing which dares insult it by an
offer of so obviously unnecessary assistance. Practically all the
windows are of the sixteenth century, and they are so fine that it seems
unfair to call particular attention to the elaborate set designed by
Aldegrevers, a pupil of Albrecht Duerer. These fill the seven tall
windows of two lancets each, which light the eastern chapel and are
dated 1520. Of the forty-two subjects upon these windows, those in the
upper range show scenes from the life of Christ and those in the lower
from that of Ste. Sophia. It is unfair to describe them; they should be
seen. At this point we may comment that although it is occasionally
possible to convey some idea of an individual panel by technical
description, it is useless to attempt, by means of words, to give a
reader a just conception of such an interior as the glass produces at
Conches. Beside these by Aldegrevers there are eighteen others whose
dates, running from 1540 to 1553, show them to be of slightly later
construction. In the fourth on the right the allegorical subject
contains an unusual detail. A group of figures represent the Liberal
Arts, and among them, Music: upon her insignia appears a musical phrase
expressed in proper notation. This representation of written music upon
glass is extremely rare. We shall see another of the very infrequent
instances when we visit Caudebec. Among the finest windows is the fifth
on the right, which represents the allegory of the Wine Press. Here the
subject is not treated in the usual gruesome fashion. It is not the
blood of Christ which serves as the wine but, instead, the juice of
grapes which He is crushing in the press. Throughout all these windows
the distant landscapes are depicted in much more convincing colouring
than is usually found at this time. This seems due to the fact that the
light blue glass used for that purpose is left clear of all paint except
that needed for delineation. Elsewhere these blue backgrounds often have
so much paint upon them as to be rendered partly opaque and therefore
incapable of simulating the depth necessary for great distances. In
strength as well as in judicious combination of a surprisingly wide
range of colours, their century can show few examples to rival these.
Not only is their value enhanced by the simplicity of the interior which
they decorate, and which, therefore, has nothing to distract our
attention from their beauty, but this very beauty is made all the more
impressive by the sharp contrast provided by the dullness of the little
town outside and the plain exterior of the church which it so glorifies.