EARLY CHRISTIAN GLASS, BYZANTINE GLASS, AND THE GLASS OF THE MIDDLE
AGES IN THE EAST AND THE WEST.
The vague and indefinite use of the terms ‘Byzantine Period’ and
‘Byzantine Art’ has been the cause of much confusion in many branches
of history, and nowhere more than in the history of architecture. Were
I treating of the latter art I should prefer to use the term in its
narrower sense, confining it within definite limits of time and space.
With the minor arts, however—illuminated manuscripts, ivories, and
metal ware—the case is different. Here the term Byzantine may often be
conveniently applied to cover a very wide field; so in the case of
glass, the rare specimens that come to us from widely scattered sources
find, for a long period, a common centre, as it were, in Constantinople.
After the end of the third century the East begins once more to assert
itself. The spread of the Christian religion, the transference of the
capital of the empire to Constantinople, and again the advance of the
barbaric tribes, were all important factors in this movement. As far as
our northern lands are concerned, the importance of this last factor as
an orientalising influence has perhaps not been sufficiently
recognised. We think of this advance chiefly as a descent of Germanic
tribes from the north upon Italy. But this last movement was only a
side issue—the general progress was from East to West. We know now
that for whatever culture these tribes brought with them at the time of
their advance, they were at least as much indebted to the early
civilisations of Western Asia as to that of Greece and Rome. It was
only with the fringe of this latter civilisation, and that
comparatively lately, that they had come into contact. In a measure we
may look upon the influence of what we call classical civilisation as
merely a temporary interruption, a breaking in upon the old established
route by which the peoples, and still more the produce, of the East
reached Western Europe. This is what gives that Oriental _nuance_,
often so difficult to define, to so much of our Western European art of
the early Middle Ages,[59] up to the time when the Roman culture, under
the lead of the Western Church, asserted itself once more.
So in the somewhat miscellaneous assortment of glass from many lands,
and often of uncertain date, that we treat of in this chapter, it is
this new wave of Oriental influence working upon the now decadent Roman
types which gives in some measure a common note to objects otherwise so
divergent.
In another way the spread of the new religion had an even more direct
and practical bearing on our subject-matter. If between the fourth and
thirteenth century—between the later Gallo-Roman glass and the
enamelled glass of the Saracens—there is in our collections a gap
representing nearly a thousand years, only sparingly filled up by a few
rare examples, the immediate cause is to be found in the abandonment of
the practice of cremation, and of the habit of burying objects of value
with the deceased. Fortunately for us, however, there was at first one
important exception to this rule, and to this exception we owe the
survival of so many specimens of a family of glass which is essentially
both Christian and Roman, a family which should therefore rightly find
its place at the commencement of the present chapter.
[Illustration:
_PLATE X_
GILT GLASS OF THE CEMETERIES
1. FROM COLOGNE. 2 AND 3. FROM ROME ]
The GILT GLASS OF THE CEMETERIES is, indeed, strictly Roman, both in
_provenance_ and in its artistic and technical relationships. The
essential character of this early Christian glass depends upon the
inclusion of a foil of thin gold between two plates of glass united by
fusion. This is the principle of the decoration of the two bowls from
Canosa that I have already described, and, indeed, in the technical
difficulties overcome, and still more in artistic merit, these bowls
far excel any later work of this class. As it is, the interest of these
_vetri a fondi d’oro_, as the Italians call them, depends rather upon
the fact that they constitute one of the earliest records of the art of
the primitive Church, than upon any especial merit they may possess as
examples of glass.[60]
It is now well known that nearly all these little discs of glass have
formed the base of tazza-shaped bowls, or of cups of conical form. Most
of them have been extracted from the plaster in which they were
embedded at the sides of the _loculi_, where in the passages of the
catacombs the corpses were deposited. There is also a class of smaller
medallions or studs, covered with thick lenticular glass, which were
inserted round the body of a glass cup; in a few rare examples, chiefly
from Cologne, the medallions remain in their original position on the
cup (Pl. X.). These studs are sometimes of blue glass, and we are then
reminded of a style of decoration in use in earlier times—blue bosses
or ribs, _appliqués_ or fused into the body of the bowl.
Apart from a few remarkable specimens found beneath some of the old
churches of Cologne, as at St. Ursula and St. Severinus, these gilt
glasses come almost exclusively from the catacombs of Rome. The Roman
collections naturally contain the most numerous specimens; in the
British Museum, however, may be seen an important and typical series,
illustrating most of the points of interest.
In the preparation of these _vetri a fondi d’oro_, the gold leaf was
laid down upon the glass with some gum or varnish; the superfluous gold
was then scraped away, and the internal lines of the draperies
accentuated with a sharp metallic point; a covering of glass was then
superimposed. So far all are agreed; but as to the actual process by
which the two sheets of glass were united, there is some difference of
opinion. The problem had already appealed to Heraclius, the writer of
some barbarous hexameters treating _De Coloribus et Artibus Romanorum_.
Heraclius was probably a monk living at Rome, perhaps about the end of
the tenth century. The fifth of his little didactic poems is inscribed
‘_De fialis auro decoratis_.’ In this he tells us how he produced some
small cups of pure glass, smeared them with gum with a brush, and then
proceeded to lay down on them leaves of gold. On the gold leaf, when
dry, he inscribed birds, men, lions, as it pleased his fancy.
‘Finally,’ says Heraclius, ‘I fitted over the surface, glass rendered
thin by a skilful blast of the fire; but when the glass had yielded
equally to the heat, it united itself admirably to the phials as a thin
sheet.’[61]
Theophilus, writing a few generations later, probably in Germany, knew
nothing of this cemetery glass. He describes, however, the process by
which the Byzantine Greeks made their gold mosaics by sprinkling a
layer of powdered glass over the gold leaf covering the surface of the
tesseræ; this coating was then fused on. But this was an enameller’s
process, and the coating must have consisted of a somewhat fusible
glass, perhaps containing lead. The Greeks employed, he tells us, a
similar process in decorating their glass cups.
Signor Andrea Rioda, the art director of the _Impresa Venezia-Murano_,
tells me that in the case of some clever imitations of _fondi d’oro_
made by his firm, the gold leaf was fixed upon a thickish sheet of
glass, a thinner sheet was then placed over it, and the whole heated to
the softening-point. A third method has been adopted in the preparation
of some experimental imitations made by Mr. Westlake: that gentleman
soldered together the two sheets of glass round the edges only, by
means of a flux.
In the general treatment of the figure, and in the choice of the
subject, we are reminded in the case of this cemetery glass of the
reliefs upon contemporary Christian sarcophagi—that is to say of the
more rudely executed of these reliefs. But among these _fondi d’oro_
there is a small class of portrait heads, highly finished by means of a
sort of _pointillé_ or stipple process, which are of a somewhat
superior artistic merit. In these circular medallions—miniatures, we
might call them[62]—the large eyes, the small mouth, and a peculiar
affable but sad and ‘worn-out’ expression, remind us of the portrait
heads on late mummy cases brought from the Fayum. These highly finished
miniatures are probably of somewhat earlier date than the typical glass
from the catacombs.
We find occasionally in this cemetery glass a sparing use of coloured
enamels, above all on the draperies.[63] In others the outlines, it
would seem, were cut into the glass and filled up with coloured pastes,
a process of great technical interest; I have not, however, myself seen
an example of such work.
A few rare pieces with Jewish symbols have been found, but not in any
case, I think, from Jewish cemeteries. We see the scrolls of the law
lying on the _aron_, and the seven-branched candlestick. I have already
pointed out that at this time in Rome the working of glass was very
probably to some extent in the hands of Jews and Judaising
Christians.[64]
The cemetery glass dates, it would seem, from the fourth and from the
first half of the fifth century, but some of the finer pieces may be a
little older. The disasters of the fifth century and the rapid decline
of Rome after the time of Honorius help to explain the total extinction
of this _genre_ soon after the latter period.
Apart from these gilt medallions, the examples of glass that may be
classed as early Christian present no special feature. There is in the
British Museum a series of cameo medallions, some of _hæmatinum_ and
others of sapphire-blue glass paste. In these the treatment of the
figures—the Virgin and Child and St. George (or possibly St. Theodore)
are the favourite subjects—is quite Byzantine in character. In the
Vatican Museum, among many other such medallions, are some cast from
the same moulds as our English examples. The little _pendeloques_ of
stamped glass remind one of the late Roman and Saracenic glass weights
found in Egypt; they have formed probably parts of a necklace, or they
may have been attached to drapery.
The early Christian engraved glass is of more importance, but it in no
way differs in technique from that carved with pagan subjects; some of
the vases may possibly have served as chalices for use in the service
of the Eucharist. In the British Museum is a conical cup from Cologne;
the figures are roughly cut with the wheel, and the subjects from the
Old and New Testaments are the same as those found on contemporary
sarcophagi. The design on the Podgoriza bowl,[65] perhaps the finest
example of early Christian engraving on glass, shows the influence of
the northern barbarians; there is a Viking air about some of the
subjects. Notice especially the ship from which Jonah is being thrown,
and the gaping monsters in the sea, more like dragons than whales. (See
Mr. Arthur Evans’s paper in _Archæologia_, vol. xlviii.)
As I have already said, the gap which exists between the later Roman
and the great school of enamelled Saracenic glass of the thirteenth
century can only be filled by a few scattered examples from widely
distant sources. The tombs now fail us, and we are thrown back for the
most part upon the treasures and relics preserved in the churches of
Italy, France, and Germany. Such objects represent but one aspect of
the glass produced at the time: they reflect above all the skill now
acquired in staining glass so as to imitate precious stones. We shall
see later that there has been preserved an interesting literary record
bearing especially on such imitations. The alchemists now begin to come
into touch with the glass-workers—a connection that has been
maintained even to quite recent times. The Jews, too, were early
occupied with the manufacture of coloured pastes, and their interest in
the subject has continued, as we know, up to the present day.
It would be impossible to neglect the importance of Constantinople when
treating of the art of the early mediæval—the so-called dark ages. But
so far as glass, in our narrower sense of the word, is concerned, there
is little that can be definitely attributed to that city. For us,
however, the interest of the Greek Empire lies in the fact that we have
in it a common middle term with which to correlate the art of the Copts
in Egypt, of the Sassanians in Persia, and at a later time, in some
measure, that of the early Saracen dynasties and even of the
Anglo-Saxons and the Franks in the north. At two widely separated
periods the influence of Constantinople has been more directly felt.
The first centres round Justinian in the sixth century; we are brought
at that time into relation with the Copts and the Sassanian rulers of
Persia. The other is the time of the great revival of Byzantine power
in the tenth century, when, chiefly through alliances with the emperors
of the Saxon house, the renewed art of the Greeks spread through
Germany and even reached, not for the first time indeed, the shores of
England.
The great work, no doubt, of the Byzantines in the domain of glass is
to be found in the manufacture of the mosaics with which they lined the
walls of their churches, and when we hear that glass was made at
Thessalonica, and again that one of the gates of the capital was named
after the adjacent glass-works, it is of this branch of the art that we
must first think.[66] Byzantine artists travelled to Cordova on the one
hand, and to Damascus on the other, to work in mosaic for Mohammedan
masters; we find them, too, at Rome, at Ravenna, and at Aachen. No
doubt these _musivi_ took with them, at first at least, the materials
with which they built up their pictures.
For the use of coloured glass in the windows of churches, we may
probably find a similar origin. In Justinian’s great church glass was
not used for mosaics only; there were windows filled with stained
glass, some of which may even now be in place. In the seventh century
we hear of Greek workmen summoned to France for such work, just as from
Merovingian France, as Bede tells us, Benedict Biscop obtained, a
little later, skilled craftsmen to make the glass for his new church at
Monk Wearmouth.
[Illustration:
_PLATE XI_
HANGING LAMPS OF SCULPTURED GLASS
BYZANTINE. FROM TREASURY OF ST. MARK’S]
In the ode that Paul the Silentiary wrote for the opening ceremony at
St. Sophia (563 A.D.), he speaks of silver discs, hanging from chains
and pierced to receive vessels of ‘fire-wrought’ glass, shaped like the
butt of a spear (οὐρίαχος) (Lethaby’s _Santa Sophia_, p. 50 _seq._).[67]
We have here in these lamps what is probably the first mention of a new
use for our material—one which became before long, for a time, the
dominant one. In the ‘spear-butt’ shaped lamps of St. Sophia we may see
the prototypes of the conical oil-cups of the Saracens.
Glass, however, was never held in great honour in the ceremonies of the
Christian Church. Chalices and patens of glass are indeed mentioned in
the _Liber Pontificalis_ as in use at the end of the second century:
St. Jerome writes of ‘the Lord’s blood being borne in a vessel of
glass,’ and some early miracles have reference to the making good of
glass that had been broken. Of a ninth-century saint we are told that
his Eucharistic vessels were first of wood, then of glass, and finally
of pewter! In later times the use of so fragile a material fell out of
use, and was even forbidden by the Church.
In shape it would seem that these early chalices resembled the Greek
_cantharus_. Of this form is what is perhaps the oldest example of a
metal chalice that has survived—the cup found at Gourdon, now in the
Bibliothèque Nationale. We have, or rather had, another example of this
type in the golden chalice inlaid with jewels which was formerly
preserved at Monza. In fact, this form is especially characteristic of
early Byzantine art; we see such vases represented over and over again
on marble reliefs and mosaics. Now in the British Museum there are two
vases, distinctly of this _cantharus_ shape; they are of blue, somewhat
bubbly glass, with fluted body: one which is perfect was found at
Amiens (Plate XII.); the other, from the Slade collection, has lost its
handles. These vases may well date from the sixth century, and they may
very probably have served as chalices.
Let us now turn to some of the rare specimens of early glass to be
found in the treasuries of churches, chiefly in the north of Italy.
At Rome, in the church of St. Anastasia, is a bowl of opaque glass,
with ornaments in relief, mounted on a metal foot. This claims to be
the chalice used by St. Jerome.
More famous is the _sacro catino_ preserved in the cathedral of St.
Lorenzo at Genoa. There is no reason to doubt the story that this bowl
fell to the share of a Genoese when the town of Cæsarea was sacked by
the Crusaders in the year 1101. It seems to have suffered no diminution
in sanctity from a want of uniformity in the tradition as to its
earlier history.[68] The _sacro catino_ is a shallow hexagonal bowl
with feet and handles; the slight ornaments on the surface are finished
with a tool. It was carried off to Paris during the revolutionary war,
and then discovered to be not an emerald, as had been always
maintained, but a piece of admirably tinted glass, containing, however,
a few air-bubbles. The bowl was broken before its return to Genoa, and
the pieces are now united by a filigree mounting of gold.
[Illustration:
_PLATE XII_
VASE OF BLUE GLASS, PROBABLY A CHALICE
ABOUT FIFTH CENTURY, A.D.]
It is claimed for the famous treasures preserved in the royal basilica
at Monza, that they date from the time of Theodolinda, Queen of the
Lombards (589-625 A.D.). Among them is a cup of a deep blue material
which is stated to be a sapphire. It is almost three inches in
diameter, and Mr. Nesbitt, who examined it, failed to discover any
air-bubbles. If, however, as is probable, this cup is of glass, it
gives evidence of the technical skill of the craftsman who made it. In
the same treasury are a number of little flasks in which were preserved
the oil exuding from the bodies of martyrs—whether these flasks came
originally from Rome or from Palestine, I am unable to say. In any case
they closely resemble certain little bottles said to be of Coptic
origin, found in Upper Egypt. There are some very similar flasks,
claiming to date from the sixth century, in the treasury of St. Croix
at Poitiers.
But it is to the treasury of St. Mark at Venice that we must go to find
what is by far the largest collection of Byzantine glass in existence.
The tradition that refers this collection as a whole to the time of the
fourth crusade, when in the year 1204 Constantinople was subjected to a
systematic pillage by the combined forces of the Venetians and the
Franks, is doubtless in the main true. But long before this the
Venetians had been in close commercial relations with the Greek
capital. The nucleus of the _Pala D’Oro_, undoubtedly a Byzantine work,
dates from the last years of the tenth century. On the other hand,
there are some objects in the treasury of considerably later date than
the twelfth century. As the little that we know of the glass of the
Byzantines is mainly founded upon this collection, I will extract from
Passini’s great work[69] a complete list of the examples of glass that
it contains.
I. Among a series of ten chalices of which the metal mountings bear
inscriptions in Greek relating to the consecration of the holy wine, is
a hemispherical cup of common glass, some 5 inches in height, studded
with conical points, and another of clear glass with an arcading in low
relief (xxxi. 76 and 77). In the same series is a bowl of green glass,
decorated with four quaint animals rudely carved in low relief (xlv.
99).
II. Among a set of so-called chalices, without inscriptions or symbols,
we find—1st, A vase of plain blown glass of greyish colour, 7-1/2
inches in height; it is without ornament, but is richly mounted in
filigree and jewels (l. 116). 2nd, A bowl of plain glass, some 6 inches
in height; at the base is a series of circular button-like projections
with a stud in the centre of each (xlii. 87). 3rd, A cup of clear glass
(some 6 in. high); the surface is decorated by a series of shield-like
projections similar to those on the last (xl. 79). 4th, Another cup of
coarse glass (5 in. high) is not illustrated in Passini’s work.
III. Among a series of so-called patens of various materials we find
four of glass—1st, A plate-like paten of greenish glass (7 in. diam.),
the outside incised with a number of small circular depressions (xlix.
109). 2nd, A paten of milky-white semi-transparent glass with shaped
margin (9 in. diam.); not illustrated. 3rd, An unmounted shallow dish
or bowl of plain glass (14 in. diam.) shaped like the pan of a balance;
eight ringed discs, standing out in relief from the surface, surround a
central circular shield; between are facetted, pointed projections[70]
(lix. 110_a_) (Plate XI. 3). 4th, A smaller pan-like paten or hanging
lamp similar to the above (10 in. diam.) is not illustrated.
[Illustration:
_PLATE XIII_
GLASS VESSEL CARVED IN LOW RELIEF AND MOUNTED AS A ‘FALSE’ EWER
PROBABLY EARLY SARACENIC]
IV. Lamps—1st, A vessel in the shape of a balance-pan, mounted as a
lamp, and hung by three chains (liv. 125). We are reminded by this of
the lamps that hung in St. Sophia, as described by Paul the Silentiary
(p. 97). The decoration of discs and facetted points is almost
identical with III. 3. The inscription in Greek on the silver rim maybe
rendered: ‘✠ Saint Pantaleone, help your slave Zachariah, Archbishop of
Iberia! Amen!’ This connection with Iberia (Georgia) is of the greatest
interest as bearing upon the origin of this family of glass (Plate XI.
1). 2nd, A bucket-shaped lamp of plain glass hanging from three chains
(hgt. 6 in.) (liv. 124). 3rd, An ellipsoid hanging lamp of common glass
(chief diam. 8 in.). On the exterior, projecting in high relief, are
carved shells, fishes, and other animals. From the silver rim project
six cloisons which formerly held jewels; one alone remains, an oval
paste of opaque blue. Above project eight little cylindrical sockets,
as if to contain candles (liv. 123).
V. Amphora-shaped vessels—1st, A cylindrical vase of common glass,
with rich mounting (total height, 20 in.) (xxxvi. 65). 2nd, A
pear-shaped vase, set with a false metal spout to resemble an ampulla
or cruet; the mounting is of Oriental character. The glass is carved
with a design containing two long-horned rams among a conventional leaf
pattern (the glass alone 4 in. high) (li. 115) (Plate XIII.). 3rd, An
unmounted vase of common glass, with handles (10 in. diam.). 4th, An
unmounted conical vase of common glass with conical neck, carved in low
relief with three conventionalised four-legged monsters with
tendril-like limbs and bodies (hgt. 5 in.) (xl. 80).[71]
VI. Situlæ, or bucket-shaped vases, 1st, A situla of clear glass of a
violet tint. The design—somewhat rudely cut with a wheel—consists of
a series of figures, with pastoral and Bacchic emblems. The decoration
is similar in style to the engraved work found on some late Roman glass
from the Rhine district (hgt. 8 in.) (liii. 121). 2nd, The famous
situla that I have already described when treating of the _diatretum_
glass (p. 72). The Canonico Passini thinks that the rings of glass have
been fitted on subsequently, and that is the impression that I formed
when examining the vase (hgt. II in.) (liii. 122). (Plate XIV.)
VII. The vase enamelled with classical medallions which has already
been described in connection with the enamelled glass of the Romans (p.
66). Although, as I have said, the figures are purely classical in
style, yet the scroll-work reminds one of the decoration on Coptic
bowls and fragments brought from Egypt (xl. 78, and xli. 82).
VIII. There remains the turquoise basin, richly mounted in gold and
gems, presented in 1472 by the Shah of Persia to the Signoria of
Venice. The only ornament is a conventionalised hare carved in low
relief on each of the five compartments that divide the sides. On the
base is a brief dedication in Arabic to Allah. As to the material of
this vase, all I can say is that it is _carved_; this is seen by the
light reflected on the somewhat unctuous surface; it is therefore not
porcelain or other ceramic ware, as some have thought. The slightly
waxy lustre is in favour of its being a natural stone of the turquoise
order. Some, however, have held this dish to be of a glass paste, on
the ground of the minute bubbles on the translucent edge; but the
existence of these bubbles is denied by others, and I myself failed to
discover them (hgt. II in.) (liii. 122).
I have dwelt in some detail on this little-known Byzantine glass at St.
Mark’s, for it is, as a group, of unique interest for our history,
throwing light on so many obscure problems.
[Illustration:
_PLATE XIV_
SITULA OF LATE ROMAN OR BYZANTINE GLASS
_DIATRETUM_ WORK]
We may obtain some slight hints as to the commoner kinds of glass in
use by the Byzantine Greeks from the illustrations of contemporary
manuscripts. I will give an instance of frequent occurrence. The
Evangelist who on the opening page is represented seated at his desk
engaged in writing his gospel, dips his pen into a little flask of
clear glass, of cylindrical body and straight neck. This is a simple
form, easily turned out by the blowing-tube, without the use of the
pontil. We may trace it all through the Middle Ages, and a flask very
similar in shape is still used in the laboratory of the chemist.
Apart from the more or less conventional rendering of the human
figure—and this is what we usually think of in connection with
Byzantine painting—we find two tendencies in the minor arts of the
time; one classical, carrying on the old Greco-Roman tradition, the
other Oriental in motive and feeling. For more than three hundred years
the frontiers of the Roman and Sassanian empires were continually
fluctuating, and in this border region, which included Armenia,
Georgia, Western Persia, and the upper waters of the Tigris and the
Euphrates, there were at this time many flourishing centres of
industry. It was probably in some of these lands, rather than in
Constantinople itself, that we may look for the home of the school of
carving in rock crystal and in glass that we associate vaguely with the
Lower Empire.[72] Nor did the Arab conquests of the seventh and eighth
centuries make at once any great changes in the arts of these
districts. It was through these lands probably that so many Oriental
motives filtered through to the west, not only to Constantinople, but
to the north and west coasts of the Black Sea also, and thence through
Poland and Hungary to Germany. Nowhere is this Oriental influence
better seen than in the vases of rock crystal and other hard stones
preserved in the treasuries of our Western churches, nor can we
separate these vases from the even rarer objects carved in glass. The
carving on the so-called Hedwig glasses is, as we shall see, executed
in an allied if somewhat degenerate style; some of these glasses can be
traced back to the borderlands of Poland.
Of the glass in use among the Persians and the other subjects of the
Sassanian empire (which lasted from the end of the third to the
beginning of the seventh century) we know practically nothing.
Doubtless many examples of Sassanian glass have been turned up during
the gigantic explorations around Nineveh, Babylon, and Susa, but till
quite lately little attention has been paid to objects of so
comparatively late a date. In the Louvre are some fragments of glass
lately brought from Susa. One piece calls for mention here. This is a
large fragment of thick clear glass which has formed the half of a
shallow circular dish, about fourteen inches in diameter. There are
some eight or nine shallow circular depressions cut out from the sides,
with a stud rising in counter-relief from the centre of each. We are at
once reminded of certain ‘balance-pan’ hanging lamps in the treasury at
Venice—in fact, this fragment from Susa must have formed part of a
vessel almost identical with these.
But our one undoubted example of Sassanian glass forms part of a bowl
now in the Bibliothèque Nationale. This famous vessel was long
preserved in the treasury of the Abbey of St. Denis; as in the case of
an enamelled cup preserved at Chartres, it was claimed for it that it
had been a present from Harun-ar-Rashid to Charlemagne. The body of
this bowl consists of a framework of gold, the openings of which are
filled with rosettes of rock crystal and glass. The central medallion
of rock crystal is carved to represent a king seated on his throne; for
this reason the vessel was formerly known as the ‘Cup of Solomon.’ The
seated king has, however, now been identified as Khosroes II. (Kosrou
Parviz), one of the last of the Sassanian monarchs (590-628). The
rosettes of glass and the lozenges between them are white,
emerald-green, and purple, and the colours are still brilliant. M. de
Longperier, who first identified the subject of the central medallion,
has brought forward passages from early Arab writers in which mention
is made of glass drinking-cups in use in the court of the Sassanian
kings.
The question, however, of the origin of the enamelled glass of the
Saracens—one of the most burning ones in the history of
glass—receives no light from this quarter. Nor is the problem much
advanced if we turn to Egypt to study the interesting middle period
between the first introduction of Christianity and the Mohammedan
conquest. It is only quite lately that the exploration of Coptic tombs
has thrown some quite unexpected light on the culture of these
long-neglected centuries. Not a little glass has been found, chiefly in
fragments, and of these the date can only be inferred from the style of
the decoration. The use of thin opaque ‘painted’ enamels, quite
different from the brilliant jewel-like enamels of the Saracens, seems
to have been much in vogue in Egypt at this time. What has been found
is not very accessible so far, nor has much been done in the way of
classification. A small collection, derived chiefly, I think, from the
excavations at Achmin in Upper Egypt, has lately been purchased by the
Victoria and Albert Museum (from M. Richard). The little bottles of
various simple shapes call to mind those preserved in the treasuries of
certain European churches (see above, p. 99). One slim spindle-shaped
vessel reminds one a little of the vase with Greek inscription found in
the South-Saxon cemetery near Worthing (p. 107). Among the fragments is
one delicately painted in thin enamels in Egypto-Roman manner—we see a
flying bird and the stalks and seed-vessels of the lotus; others are
decorated with _entrelacs_ of Byzantine character, also in a thin
opaque enamel; but on the majority of these fragments the subject and
the design are thoroughly Saracenic. Some ribbed bowls (in shape
identical with those from the later Celtic tombs of North Italy) have
been added lately to the British Museum collection; they come from
Upper Egypt; the scroll-like decoration in a manganese brown enamel is
of distinctly Byzantine character. Though these ribbed bowls may
possibly be of later date, they at any rate carry on the tradition of
pre-Arab times.
Those who have visited the natron lakes of Lower Egypt (three days’
journey to the south-west of Cairo), declare that there is evidence
that the brine and the saline deposits have been worked more or less
continuously from Roman times. The natron is still extracted from the
lakes by the _fellahin_ in the dry season. The impure sub-carbonate of
soda forms a cake beneath the coating of common salt, and lies also
upon the ground around. Near the village of Zakook fragments have been
found that point to the existence of glass-works in former days—this
is indeed probably the site of the town of Nitria. A French traveller
of the eighteenth century speaks of seeing near here ‘_trois verreries
abandonnées_’ (_Voyages en Égypte par le Sieur Granger_, 1745). Indeed
the ruins of three conical buildings are still to be seen; the stones
are fused on the edges, and plentiful scoriæ of common green glass lie
around. Some of the enamelled lamps of Saracenic style, now so much
prized by collectors, may perhaps have come from monasteries in this
neighbourhood. There are besides these a few lamps (as that from Siti
Mariam, reproduced in the late Mr. Butler’s _Coptic Churches of Egypt_)
which are of quite a distinct character. These lamps are set round with
blue bosses and little plaques; there is, however, no ground for
attributing any great antiquity to such work.