East and west across almost the whole width of Kent run three parallel lines of low hills affording many charming views which, however, are only part of the many beauties of that picturesque county. Upon the easterly end of one of these ridges lies Sevenoaks. Although the present town is by no means an ancient one, it possesses great interest in that just below its edge lies the large estate of Knole Park which, if we may play upon words, is a series of knolls that together with their intersecting glades are shaded by groves of great beeches whose soft green foliage has for many a long day sheltered the herds of deer wandering to and fro beneath them. Upon an eminence of greater size than its fellows stands the ancient dwelling known as “Knole,” a great series of courts and quadrangles combined into an abode of such size that it is said to contain, in addition to its superb state apartments, no fewer than 365 bedrooms. Enclosed within a wide sweeping battlemented wall are charming old-world gardens that nestle about the ancient grey mansion, and soften by their dainty setting of variegated flowers, green lawns and trees, the fortress-like appearance of its towers and long stretches of stone enclosure. Thanks to a fine combination of patriotism and hospitality so often seen in England, a large portion of this house is (upon payment of a trifling fee) thrown open to the study and appreciation of the public on the afternoons of Thursday and Saturday (2-5), as well as all day Friday (10-5). It is because it can be so conveniently seen by our glass-hunting pilgrim (owing to the generosity of the owners and the fact that it is under an hour by train from Charing Cross, London) that Knole has been selected to illustrate in how decorative a fashion the sixteenth century glazier could spread the gay tints of heraldic story upon his windows. Here can also be remarked one or two other minor manifestations of stained glass at that time. One of these is to be seen in the first stairway up which visitors are conducted. Upon some of its diminutive diamond-shaped panes are enamelled armorial crests, much in vogue at the end of the sixteenth century and the beginning of the following one. On one of these little panes in the chapel of Lullingstone Castle near here appears the date 1612: these on the Knole staircase are of about the same date. This house was long the property of the See of Canterbury; perhaps the pilgrim may have one of the rare opportunities to visit the bedroom so long occupied by Archbishop Cranmer and observe in the upper lights of the bay window the six large ovals containing coats of arms in enamel, bits of which have peeled off, as is so often the case with this method of applying colour. How mystified that worthy ecclesiastic would be to see the modern bathroom which now opens into his old bedroom! While speaking of Canterbury, it is of interest that we are enabled to date one of the Knole towers by the fact that a morsel of glazing high up in the traceries of one window (all that is left of the original equipment) bears a double knot, the insignia of Archbishop Bourchier, thus proving that it is at least as old as his tenancy here (1456-86). But let us come to the main reason for our visit—the Cartoon Gallery. Named after the set of Raphael’s cartoons especially copied for Charles I., and by him presented to the Earl of Dorset to decorate these walls, this long room is brilliantly lighted by a series of windows giving off upon the delightful gardens. This is no place to dwell upon the sumptuous silver furnishings of King James’ bedroom that opens out to the south, nor of the treasures of English portraiture in the rooms through which we have come to this gallery. We are here to enjoy the work of the glazier who set upon the windows the arms of the great houses allied to this one by marriage. One after another they unfold themselves all along the upper lights of this series of embrasures, and tell their story in a far more brilliant manner than can ever be attained by any musty tome on genealogy. This estate was more than once the property of the Crown, and an evidence of one of these periods is provided by the appearance on some of the westerly windows of the arms of certain Law Officers of the Crown, such as the Lord Chief Justice, Attorney-General, Chief Baron of the Exchequer, Master of the Requests, Judge of Admiralty, &c. These are somewhat earlier than those first mentioned and are freer from the unfortunate enamel painting.
Taking into consideration the dimensions of this superb apartment, and the paintings and glass that adorn it, together with the pleasing outlook upon the gardens below, it is doubtful if a more impressive gallery is to be found in any of the stately homes of England.
The chapel, which was built by Archbishop Cranmer, has an unpleasantly smeared east window, but upon its surface high up are a series of Apostles done in grey and stain which, if brought down to the level for which they were originally intended, would show themselves to be very attractive. At the south end of the little gallery used as the “Family Pew” are a group of about a dozen scenes in grey and stain of excellent execution, and so placed as to permit of a satisfactory examination of this agreeable form of Renaissance glass-painting.
If one be travelling by bicycle or automobile, a pleasant addition to this trip may be made, on the way back to London, by taking one small détour of about ten miles to visit Nettlestead, and another of about three to West Wickham Church. The glass at both these places is Perpendicular, but not of sufficient importance to have made them stations on that tour. However, they can be so conveniently seen at this stage of our rambles that they are here duly mentioned. It is only recently that, thanks to the skilful heraldic researches of W. E. Ball, LL.D., the date of the Nettlestead windows has been discovered, as well as the significance of the many coats of arms scattered over them. Recent restoration has made complete the glazing of the entire north side and also of the east window. Note the narrow one at the north of the small chancel—quarry background with a large figure standing on a bracket, very reminiscent of sundry prototypes at St. Neot in Cornwall. The other windows on this side (except the westmost) are rich, almost florid examples of the elaborated canopy style. Indeed, so deep are the tones that one is tempted to suspect that some Frenchman had a hand in their manufacture. The smaller chancel light just noted is much lower in colour and therefore more typical of the then prevailing English taste. This is also true of the westmost or “Becket window,” as it is called, because it shows scenes from that martyr’s life. The south windows retain their original glass only in the tracery lights, but it is planned to reglaze them as nearly as possible like those on the north side. Nettlestead Church is not easily noticed from the road because of some farm buildings and an orchard which mask it.
If, when we resume our journey Londonward, it be decided to take a peep at the West Wickham glass, one should be careful not to overshoot the church, for it lies at least a half-mile nearer the London road than does the village whose name it bears. The embrasures on the north and east of a chapel opening off the chancel contain examples of a saint standing on a bracket against a quarry background, which we have just observed in the Nettlestead chancel light and also on a former tour at St. Neot. The quarries here each bear the monogram “I.H.S.” in stain. The supports below the brackets are shorter than is customary. What painstaking care was used in the manufacture of these windows is revealed by an examination of the central one on the north side, bearing the familiar figure of St. Christopher carrying the infant Jesus. Notice that the little pool of water in which he stands contains small golden fishes; also remark the careful leading of the three tiny red trees in the background. This very attention to detail noticeable in all the panels has much to do with the satisfactory effect of these windows.