Chapter XIV: Fifteenth Century Glass at York

The very well-defined and distinctive style I have described, which became universal in English fifteenth century work, and which, from the architecture with which it is associated, we call Perpendicular, was not, I think, evolved by the Winchester School, although no doubt they influenced it. Where it began must always be something of a mystery, but some work in the east window of Exeter Cathedral is very suggestive in this connection.

[Sidenote: Lyen's work at Exeter.]

This window, glazed originally at the beginning of the fourteenth century, was enlarged and rebuilt with Perpendicular tracery in 1390-91 through the munificence of one of the canons, Henry Blakeborn; and in 1392 Robert Lyen, glazier, citizen of Exeter, and master glazier to the Cathedral, was commissioned to adapt the old glass to its new setting, adding what was necessary of his own work to fill the space. Robert Lyen's work is easily to be distinguished from the earlier work (which, besides that of 1302, includes four figures of about 1340-50, which he may have brought from other windows to fill up with). It consists of six figures, of which only three are under canopies of Lyen's time, and of a row, across the bottom, of short double-arched canopies enclosing coats of arms of past bishops of Exeter. The drawing is about equal to that of the Winchester School, but the canopies, with their multitude of crocketted pinnacles in strong outline, are far nearer to the regular Perpendicular type, such as we find at York, than anything that was being done by the Winchester School at that date.

Was the work of Robert Lyen an example of a style which had become general throughout the west, and of which the influence extended as far as Coventry? For in 1405 John Thornton of Coventry was commissioned to fill with stained glass the huge east windows of the new choir of York Minster, and this is the earliest existing window, of which the date is known, in which the Perpendicular style in glass has taken definite form.

[Sidenote: The east window of York Minster.]

This great window is the glory of English stained glass. It is 78 feet high from top to bottom, and below the great mass of Perpendicular tracery, which fills the mighty pointed arch of it, there are the three tiers of lower lights divided by horizontal transoms, with nine lights in every tier. Each of these lights measures 3 feet 6 inches across, and is divided again by the thick iron frame-bars into roughly square panels, each of which contains a subject from the Bible. The canopy work which, in the hands of a fourteenth century artist, would have filled half the window space with its towering spires, is here reduced to a small many-pinnacled canopy just filling the head of each light (where it would have been an awkward shape for a subject), a narrow shafting forming a border down the side, and a very shallow flat arch dividing each subject from the one above. There has been no question here of eking out a poverty of ideas; on the contrary, the artist's aim seems rather to have been to get as much space as possible for the expression of them.

There are one hundred and seventeen of these subject panels. Thornton would seem to have begun at the top with the idea of telling the whole story of the Old Testament, or perhaps that of the entire Bible, but by the time he had finished the upper tier, which contains three rows of panels, as compared with five in each tier below, and carried the story as far as the death of Absalom, he, or more probably his clients, seem to have changed their minds, for the rest of the window, with the exception of the bottom row panels, is devoted to the illustration of the Apocalypse, beginning with the torture of St. John under Domitian and his banishment to Patmos.

John Thornton was a greater draughtsman than Thomas of Winchester, and the portrayal of these scenes is far in advance, from the pictorial point of view, of anything that had been done in glass up to that time. Here again one feels, as in the best days of the Early Period, that one can take pleasure in the actual technique of the painting, but it is a different technique to that of the Early Period. The line work is still wonderfully precise and expressive, but it is more delicate than before, and is helped by delicate modelling in "matt shading," while the drawing itself is in a much more modern convention. It is, indeed, the first example in stained glass of a style of drawing which was to hold the field in England till nearly the end of the century, and to John Thornton is due, probably, the credit of its introduction.

[Sidenote: Its colouring.]

As a colourist, however, John Thornton is even greater. This window stands almost alone in England, if not in Europe, for the way in which colour is made use of as a means of expression. Elsewhere in York the successors of John Thornton seem to have been content with a merely decorative distribution of red, blue, and silver stain in their subjects, but here each scene has its appropriate colour scheme, the creation of fishes, for instance, being a lovely harmony of blue and silvery white, while the scenes in Eden are a glory of spring-like greens and gold.

[Sidenote: Its construction.]

The necessary element of strength in the construction of this huge window, which, at Gloucester was, as we have seen, obtained by building the whole window on the plan of a bow, is here provided by doubling the mullions below the second transom. An inner set has been constructed between three and four feet on the inside of those which sustain the glass, being connected with them by little flying arches and so acting as buttresses to them. This double set of mullions carries a gallery along its top at the level of the upper transom, while another runs across the base of the window, and from these it is possible to study the upper and lower tiers of lights at close quarters. Unfortunately access to these galleries is nowadays only granted as a great favour, but for those that can obtain it, it is well worth the trouble, for it is only from this position that the pages of this vast picture-book can be studied, and its story unravelled. Indeed I think the only adverse criticism that can be made of John Thornton's work is to question the artistic wisdom of putting so much beautiful work, on such a small scale,--for the delicate drawing and finish of the work is wonderful,--in a position in which it was invisible to the ordinary observer below. Perhaps John Thornton did not realize how small his panels would look,--panels three and a half feet square seem a fair size when you are working at them,--and no doubt access to the galleries was freer then than now; but a thirteenth century artist would not have made the mistake.[16]

Yet the architectural effect of the whole is little, if at all, the worse for it. The smallness of the panels only increases one's sense of the size of the window and gives the glass a jewel-like quality. It is all a twinkle of beautiful colour. Neither have the repairs effected by the eighteenth century glaziers hurt it much--pieces of clear coloured glass put in to fill up holes, and on which the glazier has usually scratched his name and the date with his diamond. Rather, I think, these tiny touches of pure colour (for they used quite a good blue) add to it and give it a quality.

What does detract from its beauty is the dirty quarry glazing which has been put outside it to protect it. Beautiful as the window still is, quite a third of its beauty of light and colour has been sacrificed by this means.

[Sidenote: A transitional window.]

There is some glass in the Lady Chapel which seems older than the east window. I have already alluded to the third window from the east in the south aisle which represents a stage of development corresponding to the earlier work of the Winchester School in the west window of Winchester Cathedral and the east windows of New College antechapel. The three lights contain three figures, St. Edward the Confessor between St. James and St. John the Evangelist, unless the former figure is also St. John appearing to the king as a pilgrim, as in the well-known story. Below are small scenes of the Massacre of the Innocents, Christ among the Doctors, and the Baptism in Jordan. The figures still have something of the S-like curve of the fourteenth century, but the canopies are white and of the transitional type. Perhaps the most interesting things in the window are the quarry panels at the bottom, which have a continuous flowing pattern of oak foliage running through the quarries, but with birds perching on it, so arranged that a bird comes in the centre of each quarry.

[Sidenote: Thornton's successors.]

There is some similar glass to this in the clerestory, but, with this exception and that of a fourteenth century window in the south aisle which has evidently been moved from the nave, the rest of the glass in the choir and Lady Chapel is the work of the school which was either founded by John Thornton at York, or at least profoundly influenced by him. It seems probable to me that it was in their work, which is found not only in the Cathedral but also in most of the parish churches of York, that the Perpendicular style in glass finally crystallized into the form which, with minor local differences, became universal throughout England.

Details from their work may be seen in Plates XXXIV.-XLIII. In one respect, namely in colour, they did not, as I have said, follow John Thornton, limiting themselves, for some reason unknown, very much to ruby, blue, and yellow stain. Plate XXXVIII. is a good instance of their method (the background of Plate XXXVI., it must be remembered, is modern). The blue is of a greyish quality, quite different from that of early times, but pleasant, and with a good deal of variety in it; a blue-black was sometimes used, as in Plate XXXVII., for monks' dresses.

[Sidenote: A Jesse Tree.]

The only exception to this rule is a window in the south aisle of the Cathedral choir, which contains parts of a Jesse Tree, in which the blue is combined with some very beautiful rich dark greens and a strong orange stain. Mr. Westlake thinks the glass is not York work at all. To me it seems not quite impossible that it is the work of John Thornton himself, the use of the deep orange stain in the east window being very similar. There is, however, no certainty of his authorship of any existing window but the east window. The glass in the Guildhall of Coventry is sometimes claimed for him, but I do not know of any evidence for it, and as it contains a portrait of Henry VI. as a grown man it can hardly be much earlier than 1440, thirty-five years later than the east window at York.

[Sidenote: The St. William and St. Cuthbert windows.]

Next to the great east window, the most important windows in the choir are those which fill the two choir-transepts, and which tell the histories respectively of St. William of York and St. Cuthbert. They are only five lights wide, but extend upwards to the full height of the church, and have double tracery and galleries like the east window. Except for their prevailing red and blue colouring, their general design resembles that of the east window, the whole window being divided, in the same way, into a series of small square subject panels with a short many-pinnacled canopy just filling the head of each light. The St. Cuthbert window, however, has, in addition, a life-size figure of the saint, which occupies two panels in the middle of the window. The two windows are evidently by the same hand, but the northern or St. William window is a good deal the older, having been presented, as it would seem from the portraits it contains, by Baron Ros of Hamlake about 1420, while the St. Cuthbert window cannot have been given till after 1426, and probably not till 1430 or later. No doubt, however, the execution of the first window would occupy a large part of the intervening time. Of the two, I rather prefer the effect of the St. William window, to which the larger amount of dark blue in the monks' dresses gives greater depth and richness, but the St. Cuthbert window shows perhaps more accomplishment in drawing. It is a fascinating occupation on a bright day to trace, with the aid of a strong field-glass, the stories unfolded in these rows upon rows of pictures in glass, to which a key may be found in monographs on the two windows, by the Rev. J. T. Fowler and his brother, published in the _Yorkshire Archæological Journal_, vols, iii.-iv.

[Sidenote: St. Martin's, Coney Street.]

[Sidenote: All Saints', North Street.]

More easily studied, because nearer to the eye, are the windows, again by the same hand, in the churches of St. Martin's, Coney Street, and All Saints', North Street. The former has a large west window containing a life-size figure of St. Martin, surrounded by small scenes from his life, the gift of a former vicar, Robert Semer, who has most obligingly recorded the date--1437--in an inscription. This would probably make it just a little later than the St. Cuthbert window, which its arrangement resembles. The glass at All Saints' is particularly interesting. The east window has three lights with large figures under canopies of the type shown in Plates XXXIV. and XXXV., which, though elaborate enough, have none of the unwieldiness of the fourteenth century type and are properly subordinate to the figures. These are St. Peter and St. Christopher (always a favourite subject in England), and, between them, St. Anne, teaching the Virgin to read. This last is a very beautiful group; the Virgin, a graceful girlish figure in white and yellow stain, with a wreath of white flowers round her head, is pointing with a short stick to the letters in a book held by her mother, who wears a deep ruby mantle over a blue dress, and a most curious red turban-like headdress[17] with ermine stripes, which is one of the most striking things in the window.

Below are the donors, Nicholas Blackburn, twice Mayor of York, and his wife Margaret (Plate XXXVI.), facing his son, also named Nicholas, and his wife, also named Margaret. The window has unfortunately been a good deal restored, and the background to the Blackburns is modern and was, I should think, originally blue. Modern, too, is the vivid green of the younger Nicholas's cloak. Margaret Blackburn, the elder, carries a book with the words, "Domine, labia mea aperies et os meum." The same verse occurs also, if I remember right, in a lady's hand at Selby Abbey. Were Yorkshire women, one wonders, so very silent?

Some of those in the north aisle are designed on the same plan as the St. William and St. Cuthbert windows, small subject panels arranged in rows. One shows the Six Corporal Acts of Mercy--Feeding the Hungry, Giving Drink to the Thirsty, Receiving Strangers, Clothing the Naked, Visiting the Sick, and Visiting the Prisoners. The little scenes are full of verve and "go," the fifteenth century artist having regained much of the life and vigour which makes the medallions of the Early Period so delightful, with an even greater power of expression. Plate XXXIX. represents the Merciful Man visiting the prisoners in the stocks. I wish Mr. Saint could have found time to have copied the whole of the scene, of which the humour is, I feel sure, not unconscious. Plates XXXVII. and XXXVIII. are from the bottom of this window, and show the donor and his wife with the priest saying mass for them.

Another window illustrates in a number of scenes the Last Fifteen Days of the World, as described in Richard Rolle's _Pricke of Conscience_, and is well calculated to make the evil-doer take thought and mend his ways.

Through the energy of the present rector, a full and careful catalogue and description of all the old glass in the church has been prepared and published. I only wish this were done for the Cathedral and other churches in York, which is richer, perhaps, in the quantity of its old stained glass than any other city in the world.

FOOTNOTES:

[16] Perhaps it is unfair to blame Thornton, for in the contract he undertakes to work "secundum ordinationem Decani et Capituli."

[17] This is thought by some to be a piece of something else inserted here, but its effect on the design is very happy.