If the account of this town is not to be read aloud, everything will
pass off peacefully, but if sound is going to be given to written words,
then our trouble will begin at once, for the methods of pronouncing its
name have led to unlimited discussion. All the disputants may be divided
into two camps, in one the educated and refined citizens of the town,
who pronounce the word as it is spelt, and are aided and abetted therein
by all non-residents, while in the other camp we shall find an agreeable
company, headed by the late William Shakespeare, and consisting of all
the humbler townspeople and the country folk residing near by. This
latter group prefer the sound, which, reduced to spelling, approximates
"Cisseter." Notwithstanding this centuries-long dispute, the town has
declined in importance since the days of the Romans! Then it was the
cross-roads of three great highways, and when one reflects that the
Roman road was even more potential in its developing effect upon
territory than the modern railway, it is easy to see the advantages that
Cirencester enjoyed over towns not so favoured. While considering this
practical feature there must not be forgotten the romantic glamour lent
by the legend that King Arthur was crowned here. The parish church is
particularly delightful, not only because of its characteristically
Perpendicular Gothic exterior, but also because of the logical way in
which that same style has been carried out within, especially in the
charming fan tracery of the vaults. The stained glass must be studied in
detail in order to yield a full appreciation of its beauty, for we must
not expect to find here the splendid _ensemble_ often seen elsewhere.
There are few places in the land where Perpendicular glass shows so
clearly the delicacy of both design and colour which the art achieved in
England during that epoch. This fact is borne home with marked emphasis
because we are viewing it immediately after an examination of the much
better designed but less delicately painted windows of Fairford. As a
result of this careful treatment of tint and drawing there is derived an
unexpectedly satisfactory result from the collection of figures in
canopies assembled in the five tall lancets of the east window. Seen
from the nave this collection is quite cool and silvery, and does not
betray its composite nature. Where the ancient heads have been lost or
destroyed, their space has been frankly filled with white glass. Toward
the bottom are eight small panels containing kneeling donors. The large
west window is also a composite one, but here honesty proves to have
been the worst possible policy, because the original background having
been lost, they filled in between the canopies with splotches of hideous
modern blue! Of course this kills any chance for the softly toned effect
which we have often observed as the chief charm of the perfected canopy
style. In this instance it is peculiarly unfortunate, because the
canopies are carefully worked out in detail, showing as many little
spires above them as we shall find later at Great Malvern. The figures
which they enclose repay study. The centre three in the lower row are
almost enveloped by broad written scrolls, which lend a most decorative
effect. In the pedestals below the figures are little open galleries
containing diminutive kneeling donors, very modestly and appropriately
displayed. The colours here are noteworthy, especially the rich deep red
in the robe of the cardinal at the top of the second lancet from the
north; in the second to the south notice the combination of the mulberry
gown, blue cape, and golden halo. The use of the leads to delineate
folds in the cloth is as good as the colouring. It is evident that no
mean artist produced these satisfactory results, but it is fortunate for
him that he cannot see the atrocious blue that now strives to off-set
his delightful work. In the chapel to the right of the chancel, the
most easterly embrasure on the north has its three lancets filled with
agreeably arranged figures and fragments. Being on a level with the eye
of the observer, this glazing can be examined closely. Note the careful
adjustment of the leads to suit the drawing of the hands in the
right-hand lower corner. It is so evident that this glazier thoroughly
understood his art that we are not surprised at the richness of the reds
and the blues, or the mellow strength of his yellow stain. It is easy to
deduce from the Cirencester windows the lesson that design is not so
important as colour, and that, while excellent effects can be produced
by a collection of well-toned fragments, the best design done in bad
colouring is sure to be unsatisfactory.