DORCHESTER
Before setting out upon our journeys we stated that although the viewing of stained glass was our main purpose, we intended to be broad-minded and enjoy whatever other interesting sights might be encountered. When we approach the little hamlet that “Dorchester ys ycluped, that bysyde Oxenford ys” those of our company learned in archæology will doubtless point out the Dykes, those two great parallel earthworks twenty feet high, separated by a dry fosse twenty yards wide, which run for a distance of 900 yards round the south side of the town, from the banks of the Thames to those of the little Thame. Our archæological friend will not need to point out how strong a defence was provided for the ancient Briton by these walls and the two rivers, but he will doubtless earnestly set forth many arguments for and against the theory that this fortification was an outpost of the entrenched camp on Sinodun Hill near by. The writer well remembers how strongly these Dykes impressed him when he first saw them years ago. In company with two friends he was rowing down from Oxford to London, and having arrived at Dorchester after sunset, stopped there to spend the night. Early in the morning, on our way down to the boat, we came upon these earthworks overgrown with yellow wheat and red poppies sparkling with dew. Instantly one forgot the dull modern village, and went back in fancy to the days when these great lines of earth were thrown up to protect the early owners of this land, later to be so often harried by conqueror after conqueror. The greatest glory of Dorchester came much later, in fact even after the centuries of Roman occupation had come to an end and the last legions had left England for ever. It was under the rule of the West Saxons that Dorchester became the seat of a Bishop whose See was so important that it included all those now known under the names of Winchester, Salisbury, Exeter, Bath, Wells, Lichfield, Hereford and several others. The exact date of the present long stone church is not known, but it is generally believed to be about 1150. The interior will provide but little of interest that one does not often see in many another old English church, but a glance toward the eastern end reveals that some architect of the Decorated period there added a veritable bower of light. One must search far and wide to find so pleasing a combination of excellent glass, disposed in such light and noteworthy stone traceries. The walls which enclose this chancel on the north, east and south are nearly of equal length, but the architect’s treatment of each is quite different. That to the east seems almost entirely of glass, so greatly has the builder subordinated his stone structure to the glazing. In fact, so much is given over to the glazier as to necessitate the erection of a stout buttress which runs up the centre, and without the assistance of which the slender mullions would be unable to support so great a weight of glass. This buttress stops about three-fourths of the way up the window, the explanation of which is that the original roof was lowered to this point, and it was not until 1846 that it was again elevated to its original height, making necessary the modern glass in this restored portion. Very graceful is the adjustment of the cartouches into which the stone mullions divide the entire surface, and also the way in which they tend to become pointed in the upper part of the embrasure. Within each one we find evidence of the beginnings of the canopy style which was destined soon to emerge from the cramped methods of the glazier here visible. Upon the four lancets of the northern window appear large figures displaying much more freedom of drawing. Our first criticism tends to be that they would be more attractive if they had some background or framing and were not stationed alone upon white panes. The reason for this appears from a close inspection of the supporting mullions. Along each of these are little carved figures. The writer believes this window to be unique in the respect that the carvings on the stone and the figures on the panes combine to form a Tree of Jesse. Jesse, as usual, is reclining below; the stone mullions are used to represent the branches of the vine, and at their intersections are disposed the descendants, much as we have often seen them depicted on glass. They hold scrolls on which probably their names were once painted. The figures on the glass (some of them still labelled) supplement those in the carvings. Carved figures are also freely introduced at the intersections of the stone mouldings of the east window, but here they represent New Testament episodes, such as the cutting off of Malchus’s ear, the rousing of the sleeping guards, &c. So, too, along the transom that runs across the southern window are carved figures representing a religious procession. Above are coats of arms distributed upon the panes. Below is a handsome Gothic stone seat or sedilia which has for us a great interest in that four little star-shaped lights are let into the back of it, containing late twelfth century medallions. These earliest remains were doubtless preserved from the edifice which preceded the present one. One of them shows a scene in which appears St. Birinus, who converted the great kingdom of Wessex and was the first Bishop of Dorchester (635-49). This little chancel, with its delightful glass gracefully supported by the quaintly carved stone traceries, will remain in one’s memory as one of the loveliest nooks in England for the glass-lover.
OXFORD
Probably there is no city in all England where the average American tourist feels more at home than at Oxford. All of us have read a great deal about this city of colleges, and most American boys have perused “Tom Brown at Oxford” more than once. Besides, we all feel an interest in colleges and college men. While many realise the charms of this ancient city of learning, some of us know them in great detail; we have wandered in the lovely gardens of Magdalen, of New and of Worcester; we have heard the shouting of the multitudes along the banks of the Isis when one eight has succeeded in bumping another just ahead; we have canoed up the silent tree-shaded windings of the Cherwell—in a word, we are familiars of the place. Apart from its life as a university, as a city of students, its chief association in history may be said to be that it was a refuge and stronghold of the ill-fated Charles I., after his defeat at Edgehill. It was admirably suited for this purpose, because rendered well-nigh impregnable by the encircling streams of the Isis and the Cherwell, the surrounding morass of flooded fens, and, last of all, its stout city walls. Right loyally did both townspeople and students rally to the support of the unfortunate monarch. The colleges even melted down their plate to eke out his military chest. Of all the towns of England it can, therefore, best lay claim to having been the most loyal to the fortunes of Charles Stuart at a time when loyalty meant most. But it is not for reminders of that dreadful civil strife, terminated by bloody tragedy, that we are coming to the ancient town built on the river near the “ford of the oxen,” no, our researches lie a couple of centuries earlier than those bitter days. First of all we shall enter Merton College to see its windows of the first part of the Decorated period. Then we will repair to New College to view its glass so instructive of the transition from Decorated to Perpendicular. Lastly, All Souls’ Chapel must be inspected for its examples of the Perpendicular style. In many another college can be seen later glazing, but none so good or so important as those just cited. The presence here of such fine examples of the two best periods of English glass makes easy an instructive comparison of their methods and results. Furthermore, it justifies the selection of Oxford as the last stage of our second tour, because we have only to step from one college into another to begin our third tour.
Not only do the most ancient traditions of all Oxford linger about Merton, but it looks the part—it conveys the impression of its extreme age to any one who enters its gates. Mob Quad is the oldest quadrangle in the whole University. Bishop Walter de Merton, Chancellor of Henry III., devised the idea of segregating the students into colleges, so as to govern them better, and to render more difficult, if not impossible, the general lawlessness and bloody frays between nationalities that used to be so frequent. A visit to the chapel will not only show us glass of the early part of the Decorated period, but in such quantity and so well placed as to give one the best possible impression of it. The large east window is filled with modern glazing, only the upper half of the traceries above retaining the original red and blue diaper work. In addition to this great embrasure, the choir is lighted by seven ample three-lanceted windows on each side. These are filled with grisaille bordered in colour, while across them, about two-thirds of the way up from the bottom, is drawn a band of strongly hued canopied figures. Because of their early manufacture we are not surprised to find the canopies very crude, lacking pedestals, &c. The enclosed backgrounds are generally blue, although a few toward the east are red. In the central lancet of each embrasure the canopy usually contains an upright figure, while in the side lancets they are almost all kneeling. Each personage has a written label which either winds gracefully over his head and down behind his back, or runs along beneath him. The borders are not carried up into the traceries; their design is sometimes a vine, sometimes yellow castles, or fleur-de-lis of white or green. In addition to the band of canopies, the duller grisaille is further enlivened by three coloured bosses in each lancet, mostly containing heads. The western end of the choir opens into the antechapel, which lacks its ancient glazing except for the fragments gathered together into the central western embrasure, whose original tracery glass, however, remains intact. Before leaving Merton mount the stairs to the quaint Ｌ-shaped library and inspect its attractive remains of Renaissance glass. Along the lower side of the east wall of the north wing are seven narrow lancets filled with dainty grisaille quarries, bordered in faint colour and bearing a brightly toned boss. Of more importance to us, however, is the pleasing bay window at the east end of the south wing. Here we find quarries of soft grey, each containing a monogram in yellow stain. In the midst of these quarry panes are placed little scenes, circular in form and decorated with enamel paint in grey and stain, each bearing a German inscription. The central embrasure contains six of these, three above and three below, and the two side bays have two each, one above the other. They bear the date 1598.