Near Canterbury there are some Early English fragments at Chartham, four miles west on the road to Maidstone. They are in the tracery lights on the north side of the chancel. In one of these small openings there has been inserted a baptismal scene, but because it is upside down the water seems like a cross between a shower-bath and the sword of Damocles! The chief reason for stopping at this church is the very agreeable lighting of its chancel in the Decorated manner. In the two embrasures on the north side have been collected all that remains of the original pattern glass, but the other lights have been glazed as much like these two as possible. A mellow richness, not often seen, is the chief characteristic of this low-toned grisaille, overrun with graceful coloured designs. In its perfection that style was most attractive. In a south-easterly suburb of Ashford called Willesborough there are in the chancel a couple of very complete and pleasing Decorated windows. They both have quarry backgrounds with coloured borders, but the one to the north is much more attractive. Upon its surface are not only the coloured bosses seen in the one across the chancel, but also some handsome canopy-framed figures. The leaf design on the borders should be noted, and also the labels below the figures.
LINCOLN
A golden-brown cathedral crowning the summit of a solitary hill rising from a wide plain—so Lincoln lingers in one’s memory!
Few towns have their situation more clearly described by their names than this one, derived, as it is, from “llin” a mere, and “dun” a hill, a hill above a mere. The plain is now drained of the marshes which formerly overspread it, but the great isolated mount remains always the same, and upon the summit is stationed, like a splendid sentinel, the mighty bulk of the cathedral. Rarely, indeed, does a great church have so dominating and superb a site, nor is it often that so prominent a point is crowned by such a noble structure. Near it is the ancient castle, built first by the Romans and later strengthened by warriors of other races equally quick to appreciate the military strength of its commanding position. From the tower at one corner of its perfectly preserved ramparts is afforded a most inspiring view in every direction. Nor were the great walls of the cathedral less serviceable in affording a strong refuge in war. It needs but a glance at the sturdy west front to show why Stephen in 1141, during the war of the Barons, finding the Earls of Lincoln and Chester in possession of the castle, threw himself into the adjacent cathedral and thus secured as strong a fortress as they. Not only is the western façade very beautiful, but it is also a manifestation, rare in England, of the practice usual in France of making this portion of the exterior the most important of all. Here at Lincoln it is as if a wide mask of stone had been built on to the end of the nave, lending as great an impression of width as one gets of height by a similar trick at Peterborough. These two are almost the only attempts in England to use this façade for other than simply closing the end of the edifice. The result at Lincoln is most imposing, but it produces its best effect when seen from a little distance, because then one gets the great sweep of the lines, relieved by the galleries of statues and warmed by the yellowish brown of the stone. A nearer inspection discloses how the later work has been pieced on to the older, which tends to distract our attention from the front as a whole. Not satisfied with the great strength of the building itself, permission was early obtained from the Crown to surround the Close with walls and gates, of which the picturesque Exchequer gate survives. This enclosure goes by the name of the Minster Yard. When visiting the little hamlet of Dorchester we will remark upon how great was once its glory and how widely the sway of its Bishop then extended. This glory departed when Bishop Remigius (who built the central and oldest part of the Lincoln west front) decided about 1072 to remove his seat to the more lofty and far safer site upon Lincoln Hill. Before concluding the inspection of the cathedral’s exterior, it is timely to remark that through all the centuries it has been famous in story and song for its chime of bells. During the period when that delightful industry, the making of ballads, prevailed throughout England, there were many whose scenes were laid at Lincoln, and in almost every one of these some reference is made to “The bells o’ merrie Lincoln.”
Sad havoc has been played with the ancient glass, but here we cannot blame the Puritans alone. To be sure, they exercised their usual zeal in destroying the windows as far up as they could reach, but it must be admitted that they only completed the task earlier begun by the citizens, who were wont to amuse themselves by shooting with arrows and crossbow bolts at the roof and at the windows. This appears in the defence set up by the Dean when, during the time of Henry VIII., charges had been brought against him for permitting the cathedral to fall into such shocking disrepair. Notwithstanding the efforts of the crossbow vandals and their successors, the Puritans, there has been preserved for us a very considerable amount of old glass, and that, too, of the Early English type, a period of which there are so few remains in England. These remnants are so placed as to be seen to great advantage. They fill the east windows of the north and south aisles of the choir, and the large windows in the end of the great northerly transept. The old glazing of the eastern windows of the north and south choir aisles is complete and very interesting. It is not so beautiful as it would have been if the spaces between the brilliant medallions had also been filled with colour instead of the greenish grisaille which the practical Englishman used so as to admit more light than would have been possible through the entirely coloured panes of his more artistic, if less utilitarian, French contemporary. He succeeded in getting his illumination, but he lost the jewelled shimmer that meets one’s eyes at Chartres and Reims. Moreover, there is also lacking the richness and solidity of tone which is so enjoyable in France. The French system was followed at Canterbury, and there is a marked difference in the effect of that glass from this at Lincoln. Unfortunately, the great east window between these two excellent aisle ones is filled with modern glass that suffers sadly by comparison with its ancient neighbours.
Passing to the transepts we shall encounter the pleasant custom so rare in England (though common in France) of giving a familiar name to a great window. Here the splendid northern rose is called “The Dean’s Eye,” and its sister to the south “The Bishop’s Eye,” which names they have borne for more than six hundred years. Many are the reasons that have been advanced for these titles, but probably the practical one is correct, viz., the Dean’s Eye faces the Deanery and the Bishop’s Eye the Bishop’s palace. Among the many fanciful and more poetic explanations there is one which, although it is less reasonable, we must be pardoned for finding more attractive, viz., as the north is the region of the Evil One, it is proper that the Dean’s Eye should look into that direction in order to guard against any attempt on his part to invade the sanctuary. The Bishop’s Eye is turned toward the sunny south, “The region of the Holy Spirit whose sweet influence alone can overcome the wiles of the wicked one.” The older of the pair, the Dean’s Eye, was probably glazed about 1220. It is best seen from the gallery or from the triforium which runs along just below it, and is a fine rose of the usual type. Below it there extends a row of five pointed lancets containing very light toned grisaille which almost entirely lacks the usual touches of colour. Below these are two larger lancets flanking the doorway; the one to the east has grisaille quarries as a border and within, geometric designs in colour. The westerly lancet shows a vine in whose branches are angels playing upon musical instruments, the whole surrounded by grisaille touched with colour. Across in the southern end of these transepts is one of the most delightful windows to be seen anywhere, the Bishop’s Eye. Not only is this rose window a jewel of the glazier’s art, but the mason as well has added a wondrous charm by the lightness of his stone traceries and the curious interpenetrated stone frame which he has placed about it. The architect, too, has joined in beautifying the ensemble by stationing below it four large lancets of such harmonious proportions as admirably to balance and set off their more important neighbour just above them. In these lancets are found some Early English glass—broad borders of grisaille enframing the rich-toned medallions within. The Bishop’s Eye was glazed about the middle of the fourteenth century and yields a warm greenish grey light. Instead of having its lines radiate from the centre in the customary manner, its gracefully curved mullions tend to flow up and down and suggest the fibres of five great leaves standing upright side by side.