In England one is constantly coming upon manifestations only to be
observed in a land whose civilisation and habits of life were long ago
settled and have continued stable. One of the most interesting of these
is the different methods adopted for perpetuating one's memory by a
benevolent act toward the public--making it worth the public's while to
act as trustee for the preservation of the said memory, so to speak! A
very charming instance thereof is afforded by the buildings erected in
Guildford by Archbishop Abbott in 1619 as a permanent home for ten
elderly men and eight elderly women, all presided over by a Master:
according to the fashion of the times it was styled Bishop Abbott's
Hospital. Built on North Street in the quadrangular form so reminiscent
of an Oxford or Cambridge college, the rich plum-colour which age has
lent to the brick needs only the primly demure assistance of the formal
flower beds to make the altogether charming enclosure which we see
to-day. Entering this tranquil and ancient quadrangle one seems suddenly
whisked by some magic wand far from the twentieth century world
outside. The elderly resident of the establishment who escorts one about
the premises descants upon each admirable detail in measured phrase that
is pleasantly appropriate to the ancient flavour of the scene. One is
shown the old dining-room below and the library above, both of which
retain their Elizabethan panelling on the walls and the carved
overmantels, together with much of the original furniture. The large
table in the library is an interesting piece, the lumpy adornment of its
legs reminding one of the puffed sleeves and trunk hose then affected by
gentlemen, while the rail running along the floor and connecting the
legs prevents us from forgetting that rushes then strewed the floor, and
that these rails were used to provide a convenient place to put the
feet. The most interesting part of the building is the small square
chapel which forms the north-east corner of the quadrangle. It is
lighted by two large windows dating from the end of the Renaissance
period (1621) and contemporary with the chapel they adorn. They are
unusually agreeable examples of the day when colour was applied to glass
by enamelled painting. The serious technical defect of that method (the
tendency of the enamel to peel off) is here noticeable in several spots,
but not to such an extent as to impair seriously their decorative value.
Of these two ample embrasures, the easterly one is the larger, having
five lancets surmounted by elaborate tracery lights, while its neighbour
in the north wall has but four lancets with traceries of more modest
design. All these lancets contain scenes taken from the life of Jacob,
the four to the north show Rachel's subterfuge to obtain for Jacob the
parental blessing that should have been Esau's, while the five easterly
ones set forth Jacob's dream, and the trick played upon him by Laban in
substituting Leah for Rebecca, together with Jacob's retaliation by
marking the cattle. Remark Esau shaking his fist at Jacob for stealing
his blessing; the solidity of the stairway in Jacob's dream; the unusual
number of animals shown in all the scenes. There should also be observed
the very elaborate treatment of the eastern traceries. An examination of
the outside of these windows indicates that they were probably brought
from some other edifice, for the wall seems to have been cut away to
provide sufficient room for them.
[Illustration: BISHOP ABBOTT'S HOSPITAL, GUILDFORD
Charming and complete glazing of a small chapel. Renaissance
glass coloured by the process of enamelling, often
unsatisfactory because bits are apt to peel off]