Probably there is no city in all England where the average American
tourist feels more at home than at Oxford. All of us have read a great
deal about this city of colleges, and most American boys have perused
"Tom Brown at Oxford" more than once. Besides, we all feel an interest
in colleges and college men. While many realise the charms of this
ancient city of learning, some of us know them in great detail; we have
wandered in the lovely gardens of Magdalen, of New and of Worcester; we
have heard the shouting of the multitudes along the banks of the Isis
when one eight has succeeded in bumping another just ahead; we have
canoed up the silent tree-shaded windings of the Cherwell--in a word, we
are familiars of the place. Apart from its life as a university, as a
city of students, its chief association in history may be said to be
that it was a refuge and stronghold of the ill-fated Charles I., after
his defeat at Edgehill. It was admirably suited for this purpose,
because rendered well-nigh impregnable by the encircling streams of the
Isis and the Cherwell, the surrounding morass of flooded fens, and,
last of all, its stout city walls. Right loyally did both townspeople
and students rally to the support of the unfortunate monarch. The
colleges even melted down their plate to eke out his military chest. Of
all the towns of England it can, therefore, best lay claim to having
been the most loyal to the fortunes of Charles Stuart at a time when
loyalty meant most. But it is not for reminders of that dreadful civil
strife, terminated by bloody tragedy, that we are coming to the ancient
town built on the river near the "ford of the oxen," no, our researches
lie a couple of centuries earlier than those bitter days. First of all
we shall enter Merton College to see its windows of the first part of
the Decorated period. Then we will repair to New College to view its
glass so instructive of the transition from Decorated to Perpendicular.
Lastly, All Souls' Chapel must be inspected for its examples of the
Perpendicular style. In many another college can be seen later glazing,
but none so good or so important as those just cited. The presence
here of such fine examples of the two best periods of English glass
makes easy an instructive comparison of their methods and results.
Furthermore, it justifies the selection of Oxford as the last stage of
our second tour, because we have only to step from one college into
another to begin our third tour.
Not only do the most ancient traditions of all Oxford linger about
Merton, but it looks the part--it conveys the impression of its extreme
age to any one who enters its gates. Mob Quad is the oldest quadrangle
in the whole University. Bishop Walter de Merton, Chancellor of Henry
III., devised the idea of segregating the students into colleges, so as
to govern them better, and to render more difficult, if not impossible,
the general lawlessness and bloody frays between nationalities that used
to be so frequent. A visit to the chapel will not only show us glass of
the early part of the Decorated period, but in such quantity and so well
placed as to give one the best possible impression of it. The large east
window is filled with modern glazing, only the upper half of the
traceries above retaining the original red and blue diaper work. In
addition to this great embrasure, the choir is lighted by seven ample
three-lanceted windows on each side. These are filled with grisaille
bordered in colour, while across them, about two-thirds of the way up
from the bottom, is drawn a band of strongly hued canopied figures.
Because of their early manufacture we are not surprised to find the
canopies very crude, lacking pedestals, &c. The enclosed backgrounds are
generally blue, although a few toward the east are red. In the central
lancet of each embrasure the canopy usually contains an upright figure,
while in the side lancets they are almost all kneeling. Each personage
has a written label which either winds gracefully over his head and down
behind his back, or runs along beneath him. The borders are not carried
up into the traceries; their design is sometimes a vine, sometimes
yellow castles, or fleur-de-lis of white or green. In addition to the
band of canopies, the duller grisaille is further enlivened by three
coloured bosses in each lancet, mostly containing heads. The western end
of the choir opens into the antechapel, which lacks its ancient glazing
except for the fragments gathered together into the central western
embrasure, whose original tracery glass, however, remains intact. Before
leaving Merton mount the stairs to the quaint L-shaped library and
inspect its attractive remains of Renaissance glass. Along the lower
side of the east wall of the north wing are seven narrow lancets filled
with dainty grisaille quarries, bordered in faint colour and bearing a
brightly toned boss. Of more importance to us, however, is the pleasing
bay window at the east end of the south wing. Here we find quarries of
soft grey, each containing a monogram in yellow stain. In the midst of
these quarry panes are placed little scenes, circular in form and
decorated with enamel paint in grey and stain, each bearing a German
inscription. The central embrasure contains six of these, three above
and three below, and the two side bays have two each, one above the
other. They bear the date 1598.
An account of the Perpendicular glass at Oxford will be found at p. 142.