Lying in the midst of a pleasing but tame countryside the little
village of Fairford has nothing to recommend it to the seeker after
the unusual but the windows of its parish church. This glass is not
only historically famous, but also very complete and beautiful. On the
outer side of the little church door we are still in the midst of the
commonplace, nothing rises above the level of the unimportant; once
inside that modest portal, what a change do we not experience! Around us
on every side and above in the clerestory opens out a complete series
of windows--harmonious, excellent, delightful! And to add unneeded
supplement to the charm that meets the eye, our ears are regaled with
the strange tale of how these lovely panels found themselves here, and
why they so perfectly fit the church. This latter query is answered most
simply--the church was built to provide embrasures for these treasures.
The records state that Richard Tame caused the building to be erected
and finished in 1493 expressly for this glass, which had been captured
at sea from a Dutch vessel. From the same source we also learn that his
son, who died in 1534, completed the building--a rather anomalous
statement for, if it was finished in 1493, it would not seem to have
needed a further completion by the son. It is to the windows themselves
one must turn for some explanation of this seeming contradiction.
Although but little comment has hitherto been made upon the subject,
the writer was struck by the lack of any similarity between the
figure-and-canopy windows in the western half of the church (including
the clerestory), and those around the eastern half. The former show a
conscientious following of Perpendicular conventions and a careful
attention to the proper use of colours, but the latter enjoy an easy
victory in style, combination of hues and general artistic appreciation
of the possibilities of glass. The sexton relates the usual legend about
Albrecht Duerer having designed this latter series, but it is probably no
truer here than elsewhere in England, for it is the customary tale one
hears about German glass. There is no doubt, however, that in
composition and style it differs noticeably from anything made north of
the Channel. While the figure-and-canopy work is clearly of the
fifteenth century, it must be admitted that if the windows in the
eastern part of the church be likewise of that period, then they
certainly represent an early manifestation of a style that did not
generally prevail until the sixteenth century. May not this very
difference help to explain the second "completion" of the church?
Suppose we credit Richard Tame with having secured the canopy windows
for the edifice he completed in 1493, and leave to his son the honour
of having added the series showing later attributes when he finally
finished the structure in 1534. The first windows may have been captured
in the way reported in the legend, and the later ones secured in some
other manner from the Continent, for it is known that most of the
sixteenth century glass in England was procured from foreign sources.
Let us leave this moot point to be conclusively decided by others, and
turn to observing and enjoying the glass. The shape of the church is
unusual and requires a brief word of description in order to understand
the placing of the windows. The westerly half consists of the regulation
nave with a broad aisle on each side. Above the nave runs a glazed
clerestory, which, of course, does not extend over the aisles. There are
no transepts. At the middle of the church just where the nave ends there
rises the tower, of the same width as the nave. The clerestory stops on
the nave side of this tower; there is no clerestory above the eastern
half of the church. This easterly half is the same width as that to the
west, but it is all open and not separated into aisles like the other
part. In the southerly wall of the building are six windows and a door,
and in the northerly, seven windows. The clerestory has four lights of
three lancets on each side. Canopies containing figures standing upon
pedestals and with gracefully written scrolls about them are to be found
in all the clerestory windows, and also below in the four most westerly
aisle windows on each side. The figures on the north of the clerestory
represent Roman emperors, and above in the traceries are little devils
on a red ground. Opposite them on the south appear Martyrs and Prophets
of the Faith, appropriately attended in the traceries above by angels on
a blue ground. All the windows thus far described are clearly fifteenth
century; the workmanship is good but not of such marked excellence as is
shown in the eastern part of the church. These latter evidence
remarkably skilful designing, and, furthermore, demonstrate that the
artist understood the medium in which he had to work out his cartoons.
They lean strongly towards the Renaissance type: the colours used are
very good, especially some of the greens. Most of the subjects on the
north are taken from the life of the Virgin, while opposite, across the
choir, appear scenes from the life of Christ, such as the Last Supper,
the Miraculous Draught of Fishes, &c. The sexton delights to tell the
visitor that the towers in the background of the last-named scene are
faithful counterfeits of the towers of Nuremburg, thus proving
conclusively (except to hypercritical cavillers) that Albrecht Duerer
designed them. The story is picturesque, but it is fortunate that the
good man never saw Nuremburg, or his conscience might force the
suppression of this agreeable fiction. It must be admitted, however,
that some of this glass is sufficiently excellent to have been designed
by that great master. The five-lanceted window that fills the end of the
little eastern extension behind the altar has five scenes across its
lower half, while above them, occupying the entire width of the
embrasure, is a fine Crucifixion. The original background has been
replaced by white glass, which enables us to appreciate all the more
readily how well the picture is composed. The flowing garments and
certain other details are very German in character, while some of the
implements displayed are purely Teutonic--_e.g._, the swinging mace,
showing the spiked ball hanging from the handle by a chain. The
perspective displayed in all these scenes is noticeably good. We
must pass to the other end of the church in order to see its most
entertaining window, at least to all those not deeply interested in the
intricacies of technique. It fills the western end of the nave just
above the portal, and is one of the rare sort known as "doom windows."
There is here set forth a most edifying demonstration in glowing
colours of what will some day happen to those who are not wise
enough to be good! Even Foxe's "Book of Martyrs" cannot provide the
exhilarating horrors that the numerous ingeniously minded devils here
afford. Most delightful is the enthusiasm and earnestness with which
they are carrying on their presumably daily toil of keeping Hades up to
its unpleasant reputation.