STAINED GLASS, TILES, AND MURAL PAINTINGS
Destruction of old windows--Wilfrid's glass-window makers--Glass,
stained and painted--Changes in style--Work of foreign artists--Inlaid
tiles--Ironwork on doors and screens--Norman hinges--Mediaeval
plumbing work--Mural decoration, frescoes, and wall-painting--Cause
of their destruction--St. Christopher--Consecration crosses--Norman
art--Favourite subjects--Yew trees in churchyards--Lich-gates--The
churchyard--Curious epitaphs.
No branch of archaeology is more interesting than the study of our
stained-glass windows, which illustrate so clearly the faith, history,
and customs of our ancestors. We have again to thank the fanatics of
the Reformation and Cromwellian periods for the shameful destruction
of so many beautiful windows. How great has been the loss to art and
history caused by their reckless demolition! And in addition to this
miserable violence our windows have suffered greatly from the ignorant
indifference of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, which allowed
priceless examples of old glass to be removed and replaced by the
hideous specimens of the modern glass-painters.
In Saxon times this art found a home in England, the _artifices
lapidearum et vitrearum fenestrarum_ having been invited to this country
by Wilfrid, Bishop of York, in 709. The earliest specimen of ancient
glass now in existence is in the choir-aisles of Canterbury Cathedral,
where it was probably fixed when the cathedral was rebuilt after the
fire in 1174.
Coloured glass is of two kinds: (1) _Stained glass_, made by mixing
metallic oxides with the glass when in a state of fusion, the colours
thus going through the whole mass; (2) _Painted glass_, in which
colouring is laid upon the white or tinted glass, and fixed by the
action of fire. As the style of architecture changed, so the art of the
glass-painter changed with it. In the Early English period the colours
were very rich, and the designs consisted of medallions containing
subjects taken from Holy Scripture, or the lives of the saints, upon
grounds of ruby and blue. Mosaic patterns form the groundwork of the
medallions, and a border of scrolls and foliage incloses the whole
design. The outlines of the figures are formed by the lead. In the
Decorated period the medallions disappear, and in their place we find
single figures of large size under canopies. Instead of the mosaic
backgrounds diaper-work in whole colours is used. Lights and shades are
introduced in the dresses and canopies, and foliage is painted on the
panes. The artists of this period first introduced heraldic devices into
the windows. A border of white glass intervenes between the window and
the medallion.
When the Perpendicular style was in vogue the art of the glass-painter
degenerated, as did that of the architect. Stained glass was little
used, and the artists painted with enamel colours their designs upon the
glass. The figures were larger than before, and the canopies of great
size and with much architectural detail, landscapes and buildings
appearing in the background. During this period inscriptions began to be
used. In the sixteenth century the progress of the art was in the same
direction. Large figures, and groups of figures, fill the whole window,
and the existence of mullions is disregarded in the execution of the
design. Glass-painting flourished until the Civil War period, and then
died out.
English churches benefited much by the work of foreign artists. The
great Florentine Francesco di Lievi da Gambassi visited this country.
There is a letter dated 1434, written "to the master glass-painter
Gambassi, then in Scotland, and who made works in glass of various
kinds, and was held to be the best glass-painter in the world." How much
must we regret the destruction of the windows made by this excellent
artist in Holyrood chapel and elsewhere by fanatical mobs! The Fairford
windows are perhaps the finest and most interesting in England. The
story runs that they were made in Germany for a church in Rome, and that
the vessel conveying them was captured by an English ship; and as the
noble church at Fairford was then being built, the glass was sent there
and given to it. Shiplake Church, Oxfordshire, has some of the beautiful
glass which once adorned the ruined church of St. Bertin at St. Omer,
plundered during the French Revolution.
Some good work was accomplished in the seventeenth century by English
artists, who practised enamel painting, notably by Jervais, who in 1717
executed from designs by Sir Joshua Reynolds the beautiful west window
of New College Chapel, Oxford.
The floors of our churches were enriched with inlaid tiles. Various
patterns and designs were impressed upon them when the clay was moist, a
metallic glaze covered the surface, and then the tiles were placed in
the furnace. Many designs are found on ancient tiles, such as heraldic
devices, monograms, sacred symbols with texts, architectural designs,
figures, and patterns. The age of the tiles may be determined by
comparing the designs imprinted upon them with the architectural
decorations belonging to particular periods. In the sixteenth century
many Flemish tiles were brought to England, and superseded those of
English manufacture.
In the Middle Ages no branch of art was neglected. Even the smith, who
made the ironwork for the doors, locks, and screens, was an artist, and
took pains to adapt his art to the style of architecture prevailing in
his time. Norman doors are remarkable for their beautifully ornamented
hinges. They have curling scrollwork, and a large branch in the form of
the letter C issuing from the straight bar near the head. Early English
doors have much elaborate scrollwork, with foliage and animals' heads.
During the Decorated period the hinges are simpler, on account of the
carved panelling on the doors, and they continue to become plainer in
the subsequent period. The knockers on the doors often assume very
grotesque forms, as at Durham Cathedral. The mediaeval plumber was also
an artist, and introduced shields of arms, fleur-de-lis, and other
devices, for the enrichment of spires, and pipes for carrying off water
from the roof.
[Illustration: THE ANNUNCIATION, ENBORNE CHURCH]
No part of the ancient decoration of our churches has suffered more than
the paintings and frescoes which formerly adorned their walls. In the
whole of the country there are very few of the ancient edifices which
retain any traces of the numerous quaint designs and figures painted on
the inner surfaces of their walls during the Middle Ages. Our ancestors
used to make free use of colour for the purpose of architectural
decoration, and employed several means in order to produce the effect.
They sometimes used fresco, by means of which they produced pictures
upon the walls covered with plaster while the plaster was wet. Sometimes
they employed wall-painting, _i.e._ they covered the walls when the
plaster was dry with some pictorial representation. The distinction
between fresco and wall-painting is frequently forgotten. Most of the
early specimens of this art are monochromes, but subsequently the
painters used polychrome, which signifies surface colouring in which
various colours are employed. The vaulted ceilings, the timber roof, the
screens and canopies, the monuments with their effigies, as well as the
surface of the walls, were often coloured with diaper-work. Colour and
gilding were marked features in all mediaeval buildings, and even richly
carved fonts and sculptural monuments were embellished with this method
of decoration. The appearance of our churches in those times must have
been very different from what it is now. Then a blaze of colour met the
eye on entering the sacred building, the events of sacred history were
brought to mind by the representations upon the walls, and many an
unlearned rustic acquired some knowledge of biblical history from the
contemplation of the rude figures with which his village church was
adorned.
"Even the very walls of this dread place,
And the tall windows, with their breathing lights,
Speak to the adoring heart."
The practice of painting the walls of our churches dates as far back as
Saxon times; but very few fragments of pre-Norman art remain. Of Norman
work we have numerous examples, and sometimes it is found that the early
specimens of the art have been painted over in later Gothic times, and
ruder and larger figures have eclipsed the more careful work of previous
ages. An example of this was discovered in the church of St. Lawrence,
Reading, where no less than five distinct series of paintings were
discovered, painted one over another.
[Illustration: THE CRUCIFIXION, HATFORD, BERKS]
Several circumstances have combined to obliterate these specimens of the
art of former days. It was not the intention of the Reformers themselves
to destroy them. They distinguished carefully between "an embossed and
gilt image, and a process of a story painted with the gestures and
action of many persons; and commonly the sum of the story written withal
hath another use in it than one dumb idol or image standing by itself."
It was left to the Puritans, impelled by fanaticism and ignorance, to
make "a slanderous desolation of the places of prayer," and it is to
them we owe much of the destruction of the old mural paintings. At the
end of the eighteenth century there was a prejudice against these works
of art; for in 1773 we find the Bishop of London refusing to allow
Reynolds, West, and Barry to clothe the naked walls of St. Paul's
Cathedral with pictures painted by themselves. Coated over by layers of
plaster, or whitewashed until all traces were obliterated, these relics
of ancient art have remained for generations, and it is only when an old
church is being restored, and the coats of plaster and whitewash
removed, that their presence is revealed; and then too often the colours
fade away on exposure to the air.
[Illustration: ST. PAUL, KINGSTON LISLE]
One of the favourite subjects of mural decoration was a figure of St.
Christopher with the Infant Saviour on his shoulder.[8] He usually has a
staff, and strange-looking fish swim about his feet as he crosses the
river; on one side there is a hermitage, with the figure of a hermit
holding a lantern to guide the saint, and on the other a windmill. This
figure usually was painted on the wall opposite the principal entrance,
as it was deemed lucky to see St. Christopher on first entering a
church. Moreover the sight of the saint was a preservative against
violent death during the day, and also a preventive against drowsiness
during the service, as the following verses show:--
"Christophori sancti speciem quicunque tuetur
Illo namque die nullo languore tenetur."
Churchwardens' accounts record the painting of these figures--
"1503-4. It. payd to mylys paynter for payntyng
of Seynt X'fer viii's iiii'd"
"1521. It. payd to John Payne for payntyng
of Sent Leonard left by the wyffs
onpaynted xx'd"
A curious order was issued by Edward III. for arresting painters to work
in St. Stephen's Chapel at Westminster, to which artists of every
description were liable to surrender as often as the king required their
services.
[Illustration: ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST, KINGSTON LISLE]
In Saxon times Consecration crosses were painted on the interior walls,
twelve in number, on the spots where the bishop marked the cross with holy
oil; and sometimes twelve crosses were carved or painted on the exterior
walls. During Norman times the art made progress, and there are many
specimens of mural decoration of this period, which correspond with the
mouldings generally used then; but not many scenes and figures were
depicted. Representations of bishops, _Agnus Dei_, scenes from the life of
our Lord, the apostles, the Last Judgment, St. George, scenes from the
life of St. Nicholas, St. John writing the Apocalypse, were favourite
subjects. At Copford the painter evidently tried to make the chancel
figuratively to represent the glories of heaven.
During the reign of Henry III. great progress was made, and travelling
monks roamed the country leaving behind them in many a village church
traces of their skill in artistic decoration. The murder of St. Thomas of
Canterbury now became a favourite subject, also the lives of St. Catherine
of Alexandria, St. Nicholas, St. Margaret, St. Edmund, the Seven Acts of
Mercy, and the wheel of fortune. In the fourteenth century the Doom was
the usual decoration of the space over the chancel arch, and scenes from
the New Testament, legends of saints, "moralities," etc., were depicted on
the walls. In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the artists paid
little respect to the work of their predecessors, and frequently painted
new designs over the earlier mural decorations. They also adorned very
beautifully the roofs and screens. The arrival of the Flemings in the
eastern counties is shown by the portraying of subjects and saints not
usually worshipped in England. The figures of St. George become more
numerous and also of St. Christopher, who were regarded with much
superstitious reverence by all classes.
The vanity of human greatness is taught by the morality, "Les Trois Rois
Morts et les Trois Rois Vifs," representing three kings going gaily
hunting meeting three skeletons, the remains of kings once as powerful
as they. "The Dance of Death," so popular abroad, also appears in some
English churches. The wholesale destruction of so many specimens of
mediaeval art cannot be too strongly condemned and deplored. If any of my
readers should be fortunate enough to discover any traces of colouring
hidden away beneath the coats of whitewash on the walls of their church,
I would venture to advise them to very carefully remove the covering, and
then to consult Mr. Keyser's book on _Mural Decorations_, where they will
find an account of the best methods for preserving these valuable
specimens of early art.
[Illustration: ST. PETER, KINGSTON LISLE]
In the churchyard stands the old weather-beaten yew tree, looking like a
sentinel keeping watch over the graves of our forefathers. Some of these
trees are remarkable for their age; the yews at Fountains Abbey, in
Yorkshire, were probably in a flourishing condition so long ago as the
year 1132, and some are older still. Why they were planted in churchyards
it is difficult to ascertain. It has been conjectured that they were
planted in so secure a spot in order that the men might provide themselves
with bows, as all the bows used by the English, with which they did such
execution against their enemies, were made of yew. Others contend that its
green boughs were used instead of palms on Palm Sunday, or for funerals.
But I think that they were regarded with veneration by our forefathers
when they were still heathen, and that some religious symbolism--such as
of immortality--attached to them; and that when the Christian teachers
came they made use of this religious sentiment of the people, planted the
Christian cross by the side of the yew, and under its shade preached
lessons of true immortality, of which the heathen ideals were only corrupt
legends and vain dreams.
At the entrance of the churchyard there is often a lich-gate, _i.e._ a
corpse-gate, where the body may rest while the funeral procession is
formed. _Lych_ is the Saxon word for a dead body, from which Lich-field,
"the field of dead bodies," is derived. Bray, in Berkshire, famous for
its time-serving vicar, is also famous for its lich-gate, which has two
rooms over it.
"God's acre" is full of holy associations, where sleep "the rude
forefathers of the hamlet." There stands the village cross where the
preachers stood in Saxon times and converted the people to Christianity,
and there the old sundial on a graceful stone pedestal. Sometimes amid
the memorials of the dead stood the parish stocks. Here in olden days
fairs were held, and often markets every Sunday and holiday, and minstrels
and jugglers thronged; and stringent laws were passed to prevent "improper
and prohibited sports within the churchyard, as, for example, wrestling,
football, handball under penalty of twopence forfeit." Here church ales
were kept with much festivity, dancing, and merry-making; and here
sometimes doles were distributed on the tombstones of parochial
benefactors, and even bread and cheese scrambled for, according to the
curious bequests of eccentric donors.
And then there are the quaint epitaphs on the gravestones, of which many
have made collections. Here is one to the memory of the driver of a
coach that ran from Aylesbury to London:--
"Parker, farewell! thy journey now is ended,
Death has the whip-hand, and with dust is blended;
Thy way-bill is examined, and I trust
Thy last account may prove exact and just,
When He who drives the chariot of the day,
Where life is light, whose Word's the living way,
Where travellers, like yourself, of every age,
And every clime, have taken their last stage,
The God of mercy and the God of love,
Show you the road to Paradise above."
Here is another to the memory of a once famous Yorkshire actor, buried
at Beverley:--
"In memory of Samuel Butler, a poor player that struts and frets his
hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. Obt. June 15th, 1812,
Aet. 62."
Here is a strange one from Awliscombe, Devon:--
"Here lie the remains of James Pady, brickmaker, late of this parish,
in hopes that his clay will be remoulded in a workmanlike manner, far
superior to his former perishable materials.
"Keep death and judgment always in your eye,
Or else the devil off with you will fly,
And in his kiln with brimstone ever fry;
If you neglect the narrow road to seek,
Christ will reject you like a half-burnt brick."
Those interested in the brave mortals who go down to the sea in ships
will like to read the following verses which appear on the tomb of
William Harrison, mariner, buried in Hessle Road Cemetery, Hull:--
"Long time I ploughed the ocean wide,
A life of toil I spent;
But now in harbour safe arrived
From care and discontent.
"My anchor's cast, my sails are furled,
And now I am at rest;
Of all the ports throughout the world,
Sailors, this is the best."
The following original epitaph in a neighbouring churchyard compares very
favourably with the flattering and fulsome inscriptions prevalent at the
beginning of the nineteenth century, written in what has been called
"lapidary style ":--
"He was----
But words are wanting to say what;
Say what is just and kind,
And he was that."
[8] At Sedgeford the Infant is portrayed with three heads, illustrating
the doctrine of the Blessed Trinity.