As one wanders through the streets of quiet Tewkesbury, the
half-timbered houses on every side lend it an Old World flavour that
most suitably prepares us for the sturdy Abbey, the dignity of whose
recessed west front is all in harmony with the mediaeval gravity so
characteristic of the place. It is as if that eloquently silent edifice
had never been able to shake off the sombre memories of the sanguinary
scenes enacted within it May 4, 1471, when, after the defeat of the
Lancastrians under the Duke of Somerset by Edward IV. in the "Bloody
Meadow" just outside the town, the slaughter of the wearers of the Red
Rose was not only carried on through the streets of Tewkesbury, but
even into the Abbey itself. An echo of this butchery is heard in
Shakespeare's _Richard III._, when the ghost of the murdered Prince
Edward (son of Henry VI.) appears to King Richard the night before the
fatal battle of Bosworth and cries out:
"Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow!
Think, how thou stabb'st me in the prime of youth
At Tewkesbury."
With what reproach must not that splendid row of fourteenth century
knights, victors over the French at Crecy, have looked down from the
windows of the choir clerestory upon this bloody violation of the rights
of sanctuary by those fifteenth century butchers of the House of York.
Indeed, these effigies of the earlier warriors were fortunate to have
escaped those later desperate struggles. The ravages of war do not seem
to have dealt so harshly with stained glass in this country as
elsewhere. A learned French contemporary of these tragic events,
Philippe de Comines, remarked this fact, and spoke of England as a land
where "there are no buildings destroyed or demolished by war, and where
the mischief falls on those who make the wars." Although Tewkesbury's
fame in history rests largely upon its having been the theatre of this
wild closing scene of the War of the Roses, it is not because of any
fifteenth century happening that we are moved to come here, but by
reason of the seven large windows of the preceding, or Decorated, period
which fill the choir clerestory. This is one of the few instances where
we shall remark the absence of the square eastern end so usual in
England. It is here omitted in favour of the rounded apse then prevalent
in France. Advantage has been taken of this unusual shape to throw out a
series of chapels around the chancel, which add greatly to the beauty of
the Decorated choir, and contrast sharply with the sturdy Norman nave.
The seven large embrasures that light the choir clerestory each contain
a group of lancets, five in every case, except in the most westerly
pair, where there are but four. Although the design is the same
throughout (a large figure in colour surrounded by a canopy frame),
these frames are differently occupied, those in the westerly pair
containing armoured knights, while in all the others are saints. The
depth of their colour scheme is due partly to the great quantity of rich
greens and reds used, and partly to the opacity of the panes depicting
the canopies. The figures generally occupy about one half the window
height, the rest being given over to the canopy. Below the feet of the
knights are their shields, which serve to provide the artistic balance
later obtained from pedestals. The same conventional attitude has been
assumed for all these warriors; each stands with his feet well apart,
his left hand on the sword by his side, the right hand on the hip,
holding up a sceptre. The pinnacles of almost all the canopies are
outlined against red backgrounds. Note the little rose windows
introduced in the upper part of the canopies. The most easterly window
provides a variation in that the enshrined saints are higher up on the
panes, thus making room below them for small groups consisting mostly of
naked figures, with flesh tints glazed in brown. The right-hand lancet
shows six kneeling figures praying, doubtless the donors. The borders
are carried up and around all the tracery lights, which are very
Decorated in form and do not yet show any hint of the stiffer
Perpendicular treatment to follow. Perhaps here more effectively than
anywhere in England shall we feel the warm colour-value of Decorated
glass, with as yet no tendency toward the paler tints that are to come
with the Perpendicular style. A similar warmth of tone is to be remarked
in the east windows of Bristol and Wells Cathedrals, and the writer is
moved to conjecture that the same glazier had to do with all these
three. This conjecture is not only based on the still undiminished
strength of colour throughout them all, but also on the marked
similarity in the drawing and tinting of a certain white vine decoration
upon a red ground, to be remarked in the upper tracery lights of
all three, and also in the traceries of certain transept windows
at Gloucester. Whoever this workman was, we feel his results so
satisfactory to-day that it would be small wonder if contemporary
appreciation caused his employment in these different towns.
[Illustration: CHOIR, TEWKESBURY ABBEY
A rare example of rounded apse, generally replaced in England by
a square ended chancel. Chief charm of these windows is their
rich colouring]