Of Decorated Fonts in the county of Norfolk, that of Upton must be accounted facile princeps. In beauty of design, in fulness of symbolism, in richness of detail, it is a faithful type of the elaborate art of the Decorated Period. It was originally coloured, fragments of red and blue [p 149] paint being still visible. A massive base is formed by three octagonal steps rising tier upon tier, the upper step divided from the second by eight sets of quatrefoils, flanked at the corners by sitting dogs with open mouths. Upon the stem of the font there are eight figures in bas relief, standing upon pediments beneath overhanging canopies exquisitely carved. These canopies are adorned with crocketed pinnacles, and the interior of each has a groined roof, with rose boss in the centre. Some of the pediments are garnished with foliage, others exhibit quaint animals, e.g., a double dragon with but one head connecting the two bodies, two lions linked by their tails, and two dogs in the act of biting each other; all, of course, highly symbolical of various types of sin. The canopied figures around the pedestal represent the two Sacraments, an indication that even in the fourteenth century the two Sacraments of the Gospel were esteemed as of the first importance. Holy Communion is symbolised by five figures. A bishop in eucharistic vestments, his right hand raised in blessing, his left holding the pastoral staff, while the double dragon is beneath his feet. It is not unlikely that this ecclesiastic was de Spenser, the [p 150] contemporary Bishop of Norwich, of military fame. The bishop is supported to right and left by angels robed and girded, circlets and crosses on their heads, each holding a candle in a somewhat massive candlestick. The graceful lines of the wings suggest the probability of the artist having belonged to a continental guild of stone carvers. The next two figures are priests, each vested in dalmatic, maniple, stole, and alb, acting as deacon and sub-deacon, the first holding an open service book, the second the chalice and pyx.
The three remaining figures portray
Holy Baptism. Of the two godmothers and the godfather in the lay dress of the fourteenth century, the first holds a babe in her arms in swaddling clothes, the swathing band being crossed again and again. The other sponsors carry each a rosary.
To digress for a moment; here is an interesting deduction. The infant is a girl—witness the two godmothers. The font cannot have been made later than about 1380, at which time the Decorated merged into the Perpendicular. Now the lord of the manor of Upton from 1358 onwards, for many years, was one [p 151] John Buttetourt, or Botetourt, who, with his wife Matilda, had an only daughter and heiress, to whom was given the baptismal name Jocosa. It appears highly probable that the lord of Upton, rejoicing at the birth of his little heiress, caused the font to be designed and built as a memorial of her baptism. But it would seem that he did not live to see her settled in life, for in 1399 she had grown to early womanhood, had won the affection of Sir Hugh Burnell, who made her his wife, and by the following year, if not before, she had inherited the manor in her own right.
To return to the description of the font. Resting on the canopies above described, and supported by eight half-angels with musical instruments, etc., is the large and handsome laver. The principal panels are occupied by reliefs of the four living creatures of the Revelation—the historic emblems of the four Evangelists—the flying lion, the flying bull, the man, and the eagle, the last named with scroll facing east. The four alternative panels represent angels, two holding instruments of music, two with heraldic shields. The panels are separated from each other by crocketed buttresses. The musical [p 152] instruments shewn upon the font are of great interest. A kind of rebeck or lute twice occurs, and once a curious pair of cymbals. One half-angel is playing on a crowth, an early form of the fiddle, consisting of an oblong box, a couple of strings, a short straight and round handle, and a bow. Another of the half-angels holds an open music book, containing the ancient four-line score.
The font has suffered some amount of mutilation in the five centuries of its existence; three or four heads have disappeared, also the right hand of the bishop, and the top of the pastoral staff; the chalice has been broken off, and the flying lion is fractured. And as a reminder of the iconoclastic century which was most likely responsible for the damage, these dates are roughly cut into the leaden lining of the bowl: 1641, 1662, 1696.
[p 153]
Watching Chambers in Churches.
By the Rev. Geo. S. Tyack, B.A.
The smallest acquaintance with the inventories, or the ceremonial, of our mediæval churches is sufficient to show anyone a glimpse of the extraordinary wealth of which the larger churches especially were possessed in those days. Vestments of velvet and silk and cloth of gold, adorned with jewels and the precious metals; crosses and candlesticks of gold, studded with gems; reliquaries that were ablaze with gorgeousness and beauty; and sometimes shrines and altars that were a complete mass of invaluable treasure; such were the contents of the choirs and sacristies of our cathedrals and abbey churches. This being the case, it is obvious that the greatest care had to be taken of such places. Then, even as now, there were desperadoes from whom the sanctity of the shrine could not protect it, if they could get a chance of fingering its jewels; men who would exclaim, with Falconbridge in the play of “King John” (Act III., Sc. 3)—