Part 6

Perched high in a strong position at a bend in the River Teme rises the noble ruin of what was once the castle of Ludlow, visible from quite a distance, no matter from which direction one approaches it along the winding Shropshire lanes. It still retains enough of its ancient walls and towers to demonstrate what valiant service it must have rendered in keeping the turbulent Welsh back on their own side of the Border. Nor is the note of war the only one that echoes from the early history of this castle, for in its great hall was enacted for the first time Milton's "Comus." After a brief visit to the castle let us wend our way to St. Lawrence's Church in the town, for which an effective and judicious restoration has revived much of its original charm. A diverting legend relates that the arrow at the top of the north transept gable was shot hither by Robin Hood from the Old Field two miles away. Although many of the parishioners devoutly believe this to be true, it strikes the modern traveller that the great outlaw must on that occasion have drawn a very "long bow"! The ancient appearance of the fine hexagonal porch with the room above it makes a most inviting entrance. We shall find our glass in unusual parts of the church, nor is this the only unique feature of the edifice. The Lady chapel is not at the east, but at the south side of the chancel; in it is an interesting Tree of Jesse in the approved Decorated method, very like the one we have just seen at Shrewsbury. Unfortunately, the restorer has here been too thorough, but, nevertheless, the pattern has been preserved, and also many of the figures, for example, those just above the head and feet of Jesse. He lies recumbent along the bottom of three of the five lancets which compose the window, while above, in compartments formed by the convolutions of the vine, are his descendants. In accordance with the common practice, too much green was used. Although the chancel does not as usual afford the greatest attraction in the way of glazing, we must observe an interesting fifteenth century window in the middle of the southerly wall. Its five lancets each contain three tiers of figures in canopy, the details of which are much elaborated, especially in the pedestals. Notice also the jewelled borders to the robes. The red and blue glass is free from obscuring paint. Although our principal object was the Decorated glass, this church would repay a visit because of the Perpendicular glazing of the chapel of St. John which lies north of the chancel, from which it is shut off by a beautiful fifteenth century screen. The two most easterly windows in the north wall are much lower in tone than either the very golden Annunciation which adjoins them on the west, or the red, white and blue legend of Edward the Confessor and the Palmers, which is round the corner in the east wall. This latter dates from about 1430 and has two tiers of canopies across its four lancets. There is here illustrated an absurd contradiction into which this originally graceful style was developed;--within one of its elaborately pinnacled shrines we find a ship! and under another a rural scene with trees! most out-of-place substitutes for the customary and appropriate saint. Let us return to the two low-toned windows in the north wall, of which we have just spoken. The writer does not remember ever having seen any similar to them. Each embrasure has three lancets subdivided horizontally at the middle, making six spaces. The two windows thus afford twelve panels, which are used to display the Twelve Apostles. Local tradition says that there is here represented the Council at which the Apostolic Creed was composed. Each holy man sits on a bench behind a rail, but as they are drawn to a modest scale and occupy each the centre of his panel, they are thereby so far removed one from the other as to destroy utterly any appearance of a Council. There is a great deal of soft-hued architecture throughout, but it is used as background and not as a frame, thus differing radically from typical canopies. A more satisfactory result would have been attained if they had adhered closely to contemporary tradition, for here the figures, low-hued as they are, start out too abruptly from the over-spacious architectural background. The general effect is not that of a series of gracefully framed Apostolic portraits, but of lonely figures seated in empty halls. If for no other reason than that they have provoked this criticism, these windows should be carefully remarked, because they demonstrate how sound was the theory of employing the architectural canopy as a light-admitting frame for the coloured central figure. The east window of the south transept contains fragments of fourteenth and fifteenth century glass from other parts of the church. The wooden ceilings are well worthy of inspection.

HEREFORD

A very charming feature of English country life is the pleasure one can derive from boating on the small rivers. Our American watercourses are generally too wide or too turbulent to become such a domestic pet as we all know the river Thames to be. To one who has not seen Boulter's Lock on a bright Sunday, or who has never witnessed a Henley Regatta, that most brilliant of all athletic spectacles, it would be difficult to explain how thoroughly the Englishman enjoys and how constantly he uses the opportunity which Father Thames affords for a short outing. Nor is the Thames the only stream thus available. Small watercourses of the same sort are to be found all over the country, and afford delightful trips for those who are willing to travel in so leisurely a fashion. The writer remembers with the keenest pleasure certain canoe trips, one of three days from Bedford to Ely on the Ouse, another on the Stour, from Sudbury to Manningtree, lasting two days, and a third of similar duration from Petworth down the Rother into the Arun at Pullborough and thence to Arundel. All the preparation necessary is to buy your canoe a third-class ticket, put it into the luggage van at the railway station, and set out for the point at which you wish to begin. Jerome K. Jerome has immortalised a similar trip taken down the Thames from Oxford to London. One of the most charming of all English river journeys is that down the Wye. If one wishes to take a long trip, the start can be made at Hay, thirty-four miles above Hereford, or perhaps better at Whitney, twenty-eight miles above. The next stretch is from Hereford to Ross, twenty-seven miles, and, if desired, this can be lengthened by continuing on down to Monmouth, Tintern and Chepstow. The charming bits of scenery that unfold themselves as this little river lazily winds down the Welsh Marches are most varied and delightful. It must, however, be admitted that it is only the middle section of this agreeable trip that properly concerns one engaged in glass-hunting. We should, therefore, content ourselves with the stretch from Hereford to Ross, twenty-seven miles, if, indeed, we have the time to devote to this slow method of travelling. Over by the river end of the peaceful town of Hereford is the lovely green Close which lies about the sturdy reddish brown cathedral. Few churches, even those of great size, give such a square and solid impression as results here from the combination of the ruddy tones of the building material and the early type of its architecture. The defacing effects of an earlier restoration are being rectified by the erection of a new west front, now almost completed. The massive Norman columns that support the nave within, carry out in their grand simplicity the sturdy promise of the exterior. Every division of the church seems spacious, the ample transepts, wide choir aisles, and large Lady chapel, completing the effect begun by the nave and choir. Indeed, so commodious is the Lady chapel, that it is used as a parish church. The cathedral has a number of interesting possessions, chief among which is the large Mappa Mundi made in 1300, and showing the world as then known. It hangs in the south choir aisle. The world is represented as round like a plate, and in addition to the cities and countries marked thereon, there also appear the fabulous animals which were then a part of orthodox geography. It was about this time that there was written the adventures of that famous traveller, Sir John de Maundeville, whose voyages were only exceeded in extent by his imagination. His reports of fabulous beasts, &c., are in excellent accord with the pictures on this map.

The ancient glass here is somewhat limited, and is all of the Decorated period. On the south side of the Lady chapel we shall remark two windows, chiefly glazed in greenish grisaille, but each bearing four coloured decorations placed one above the other. In one case these prove to be geometrical designs outlined in colour, while in the other they are small coloured groups, the topmost scene showing Christ, on a red background, pointing upward. Glass even more typically Decorated is to be seen in the eastern wall of the north-east transept, and again in the most easterly embrasure of the south choir ambulatory. These windows each contain four lancets surmounted by tracery lights, and in each lancet is a coloured figure framed in an unusually lofty canopy--in fact the latter is three times as high as the figure it encloses. Note the brassy tone of the early golden stain used in the architecture. Modern grisaille has replaced its ancient prototype, which, in accordance with the conventions, surrounded these early canopies to increase the light-admitting power of the embrasures. This glass was formerly in St. Peter's Church, but about sixty years ago that church disposed of it for L5 to a purchaser who presented it to the cathedral. Limited though it be in amount, it will repay a careful examination.

TEWKESBURY

As one wanders through the streets of quiet Tewkesbury, the half-timbered houses on every side lend it an Old World flavour that most suitably prepares us for the sturdy Abbey, the dignity of whose recessed west front is all in harmony with the mediaeval gravity so characteristic of the place. It is as if that eloquently silent edifice had never been able to shake off the sombre memories of the sanguinary scenes enacted within it May 4, 1471, when, after the defeat of the Lancastrians under the Duke of Somerset by Edward IV. in the "Bloody Meadow" just outside the town, the slaughter of the wearers of the Red Rose was not only carried on through the streets of Tewkesbury, but even into the Abbey itself. An echo of this butchery is heard in Shakespeare's _Richard III._, when the ghost of the murdered Prince Edward (son of Henry VI.) appears to King Richard the night before the fatal battle of Bosworth and cries out:

"Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow! Think, how thou stabb'st me in the prime of youth At Tewkesbury."

With what reproach must not that splendid row of fourteenth century knights, victors over the French at Crecy, have looked down from the windows of the choir clerestory upon this bloody violation of the rights of sanctuary by those fifteenth century butchers of the House of York. Indeed, these effigies of the earlier warriors were fortunate to have escaped those later desperate struggles. The ravages of war do not seem to have dealt so harshly with stained glass in this country as elsewhere. A learned French contemporary of these tragic events, Philippe de Comines, remarked this fact, and spoke of England as a land where "there are no buildings destroyed or demolished by war, and where the mischief falls on those who make the wars." Although Tewkesbury's fame in history rests largely upon its having been the theatre of this wild closing scene of the War of the Roses, it is not because of any fifteenth century happening that we are moved to come here, but by reason of the seven large windows of the preceding, or Decorated, period which fill the choir clerestory. This is one of the few instances where we shall remark the absence of the square eastern end so usual in England. It is here omitted in favour of the rounded apse then prevalent in France. Advantage has been taken of this unusual shape to throw out a series of chapels around the chancel, which add greatly to the beauty of the Decorated choir, and contrast sharply with the sturdy Norman nave. The seven large embrasures that light the choir clerestory each contain a group of lancets, five in every case, except in the most westerly pair, where there are but four. Although the design is the same throughout (a large figure in colour surrounded by a canopy frame), these frames are differently occupied, those in the westerly pair containing armoured knights, while in all the others are saints. The depth of their colour scheme is due partly to the great quantity of rich greens and reds used, and partly to the opacity of the panes depicting the canopies. The figures generally occupy about one half the window height, the rest being given over to the canopy. Below the feet of the knights are their shields, which serve to provide the artistic balance later obtained from pedestals. The same conventional attitude has been assumed for all these warriors; each stands with his feet well apart, his left hand on the sword by his side, the right hand on the hip, holding up a sceptre. The pinnacles of almost all the canopies are outlined against red backgrounds. Note the little rose windows introduced in the upper part of the canopies. The most easterly window provides a variation in that the enshrined saints are higher up on the panes, thus making room below them for small groups consisting mostly of naked figures, with flesh tints glazed in brown. The right-hand lancet shows six kneeling figures praying, doubtless the donors. The borders are carried up and around all the tracery lights, which are very Decorated in form and do not yet show any hint of the stiffer Perpendicular treatment to follow. Perhaps here more effectively than anywhere in England shall we feel the warm colour-value of Decorated glass, with as yet no tendency toward the paler tints that are to come with the Perpendicular style. A similar warmth of tone is to be remarked in the east windows of Bristol and Wells Cathedrals, and the writer is moved to conjecture that the same glazier had to do with all these three. This conjecture is not only based on the still undiminished strength of colour throughout them all, but also on the marked similarity in the drawing and tinting of a certain white vine decoration upon a red ground, to be remarked in the upper tracery lights of all three, and also in the traceries of certain transept windows at Gloucester. Whoever this workman was, we feel his results so satisfactory to-day that it would be small wonder if contemporary appreciation caused his employment in these different towns.

DEERHURST

Possibly some of our travellers are proceeding in so leisurely a fashion that they may decide to sojourn a day or two in Tewkesbury. To them we address the suggestion that they visit the adjoining town of Deerhurst and see its venerable church. It is but a two-mile walk across the fields, or a pleasant trip by boat on the Severn. It may, however, by means of a small _detour_, be visited on the way to Gloucester. Although it can boast of but little Decorated glass, that little is lodged in an edifice of great interest, because it is the earliest dated one in England. The obviously Saxon architecture, with its "herring-bone" and "long and short" work, the window-tops composed of two slanting stones, or else of arches cut from one piece--these unmistakable signs would have told us that it antedated the Normans, but of such buildings there are many in this country. Here, however, we have an exact date given us, and, furthermore, the earliest known in all the land. A stone found here (now preserved at Oxford) relates that this chapel was dedicated in 1056, and that Earl Odda caused it to be erected "in honour of the Holy Trinity and for the good of the soul of his brother, Elfric, which at this place quitted the body." It goes on further to say that "Bishop Ealdred dedicated it on 12th April in the 14th year of Edward King of the English." Two other early Saxon edifices of even more modest dimensions lie close at hand. The ancient glass is contained in the four small lancets of the west wall on the right as one enters, and is obviously of the Decorated period. The most attractive bit is the small panel showing St. Catherine framed in a canopy, holding her wheel in one hand, and revolving it with the other. The background is red within the canopy, but green outside, a very frequent adjustment at that time. In both the upper and lower parts of these lancets are groups of three and four kneeling donors, about eight inches high, with labels above them. This glass has not always remained in its original embrasures, but, fortunately, did not stray far. Its travels were cut short by a gentleman who purchased it for L5 from an antiquary's shop in a neighbouring town, and restored it to its early home. More important and more beautiful sanctuaries will be encountered in our travels, but it is well to have halted for even a brief time at this ancient Saxon fane, if only to ponder upon how tenacious must have been the traits of those early ancestors of ours, to have persisted to these modern days with such vigour as to have made the adjective "Anglo-Saxon" so significant.

BRISTOL

Bristol is connected with London by the Old Bath Road. What memories that name arouses of beaux and belles of stage-coach days, gaily chatting to while away the fifteen-hour trip from London to Bath, or furtively glancing out to see if bold Dick Turpin, or some gentleman of his profession, be not lurking in the shadows of the trees, intent on relieving the tired horses by lightening the passengers' luggage. This stage-coach period is of peculiar interest to visitors from across the seas, because it takes one back to old Colony days, and the War of the Revolution. In England the improved facilities of travel provided by the stage coach had much to do with advancing parliamentary government and doing away with the system of "rotten borough" representation in Parliament. Bustling and hearty days were those of the four Georges, which produced a Prime Minister like William Pitt. In this progressive era of railroad construction and stock manipulation, it is interesting to read how Richard Palmer besought the Government to establish a regular mail-coach service on the Bath Road, alleging the great profits they could thereby secure, but really hoping in this way to increase the profits of his theatre in Bath. After a long struggle he finally got the ear of William Pitt. The service was established, and his subsidy (which was to be regulated by the amount saved in carrying the mails) proved so large that they cut it down to the lump sum of L50,000! The first coach started on August 8, 1784. Nowadays it causes us to smile when we read of the tremendous effect produced throughout the country by the news that this coach left London at eight o'clock in the morning and arrived at Bristol at eleven the same evening! Such unheard-of speed aroused wide interest, and had much to do with the great success of Bath as a fashionable watering-place. Bowling along this historic road we shall only stop long enough at Bath to see the remains of the baths built by the Romans, and the famous Pump Room, the scene of the triumphs of Beau Nash, and many another. We may also take a peep into the small, but fine, church whose great window surface has earned for it the title of the "Lantern of the West." It will not detain us long because its glass is all modern, except in the second embrasure from the west in the north aisle, where seven shields surmounted by elaborately plumed helmets are agreeably disposed across the five lancets. On we go out of Bath and along the narrow valley of the Avon, twelve miles further to smoky Bristol, squatted like a puffing Dutch burgher at the point where the Severn empties into the Bristol Channel. Although the great shipping industry that gave the town its early importance has of late years diminished, it still retains enough to be an active port of trade. To some fanciful folk the pall of smoke that hangs over the town may seem a gloomy retribution for the fact that from the days of the Saxon and the Norman down to the abolition of slavery, Bristol was the greatest port in England for that nefarious traffic. Changing to a brighter subject, this was the harbour from which John Cabot, the Anglicised Venetian, and his son Sebastian (who was born here), sailed upon their voyages of discovery across the little-known Atlantic.

The Mayor's Chapel contains some very interesting sixteenth century glass, but as it was bought abroad and fetched here, it has not, for us, the interest which we shall feel in the home-made Decorated windows of the cathedral. Bristol Cathedral lacks the pleasing setting of foliage and green lawns which one finds about almost every English church. Indeed, in this respect, it is more like the famous French ones, which nearly all rely upon architectural charm for their effectiveness. Inside, the chief matters of interest are the great Tree of Jesse which fills the east window, and the two large lights on each side of the chancel. These side windows are glazed in grisaille upon which are figures framed in canopy, two tiers, one above the other. The most westerly embrasure of the southerly pair has in its upper row three canopies which, taken together, show the martyrdom of St. Edmund. He is within the central canopy, while those on each side contain archers drawing their bows to shoot at him. The bent knees, the awkward pose of the heads, &c., show the drawing to be most primitive. The tracery lights are glazed in red, with white winding vines, and are remarkably like the traceries at Tewkesbury. The Berkeleys, who gave this glass, were related to the de Clares of Tewkesbury, so it is more than likely that they employed the same glazier. The great east window is in a very good state owing to its restoration in 1847 and is a graceful work of the Decorated period. The erudite Winston concludes that as it does not bear the arms of Piers Gaveston (murdered in 1312), and does show those of Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford (slain in open rebellion against his sovereign in 1322), the date of the window is probably about 1320, which furthermore is borne out by internal evidence. This great window rises above and behind the altar and has its nine lancets subdivided into three groups of three each by two mullions which, as was usual at that time, curve away from each other when nearing the upper part of the embrasure. Although the subject is a Tree of Jesse, the patriarch himself does not appear. The various branches of the vine rise perpendicularly from the lower sill and are then gracefully intertwined. The treatment of the personages is the same throughout, each being enclosed by a loop of the vine. The 1847 restoration was so well done that except for an occasional harsh note of colour in the robes, it conceals its modern substitutions quite successfully. The lancets each contain two figures, one above the other. It is fair to comment that the encircling vine is rather too light to harmonise well with the figures in the background.