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APPENDIX II

ON THE RESTORING OF ANCIENT WINDOWS

Let us realise what is done.

And let us consider what ought to be done.

A window of ancient glass needs releading. The lead has decayed and the whole is loose and shaky. The ancient glass has worn very thin, pitted almost through like a worn-out thimble with little holes where the alkalis have worked their way out. It is as fragile and tender as an old oil-painting that needs to be taken off a rotten canvas and re-lined. If you examine a piece of old glass whose lead has had time to decay, you will find that the glass itself is often in an equally tender state. The painting would remain for years, probably for centuries yet, if untouched, just as dust, without any attachment at all, will hang on a vertical looking-glass. But if you scrape it, even only with the finger-nail, you will generally find that that is sufficient to bring much—perhaps most—of the painting off, while both sides of the glass are covered with a "patina" of age which is its chief glory in quality and colour, and which, or most of which, a wet handkerchief dipped in a little dust and rubbed smartly will remove.

In short, here is a work of art as beautiful and precious as a picture by Titian or Holbein, and probably, as being the chief glory of some stately cathedral, still more precious, which ought only to be trusted to the gentle hands of a cultivated and scientific artist, connoisseur, and expert. The glass should all be handled as if it were old filigree silver. If the lead is so perished that it is absolutely impossible to avoid taking the glass down, it should be received on the scaffold itself, straight from its place in the stone, between packing-boards lined with sheets of wadding—"cotton-wool"—attached to the boards with size or paste, and with, of course, the "fluffy" side outwards. These boards, section by section, should be finally corded or clamped ready for travelling before being lowered from the scaffold; if any pieces of the glass get detached they should be carefully packed in separate boxes, each labelled with a letter corresponding to one placed on the section as packed, so that there may be no chance of their place ever being lost, and when all is done the whole window will be ready to be gently lowered, securely "packed for removal," to the pavement below. The ideal thing now would be to hire a room and do the work on the spot; but if this is impossible on account of expense and the thing has to bear a journey, the sections, packed as above described, should be themselves packed, two or three together, as may be convenient, in an outer packing-case for travelling. It should be insured, for then a representative of the railway must attend to certify the packing, and also extra care will be taken in transit.

Arrived at the shop, the window should be laid out carefully on the bench and each bit re-leaded into its place, the very fragile pieces between two bits of thin sheet-glass.

Unless this last practice is adopted throughout, the ordinary process of cementing must be omitted and careful puttying substituted for it. While if it is adopted the whole must be puttied before cementing, otherwise the cement will run in between the various thicknesses of glass. It would be an expensive and tedious and rather thankless process, for the repairer's whole aim would be to hide from the spectator the fact that anything whatever had been done.

What does happen at present is this. A country clergyman, or, in the case of a cathedral, an architectural surveyor, neither of whom know by actual practice anything technically of stained-glass, hand the job over to some one representing a stained-glass establishment. This gentleman has studied stained-glass on paper, and knows as much about cutting or leading technically and by personal practice, as an architect does of masonry, or stone-carving—neither more nor less. That is to say, he has made sketch-books full of water-colour or pencil studies, and endless notes from old examples, and has never cut a bit of glass in his life, or leaded it.

Well, he assumes the responsibility, and the client reposes in the blissful confidence that all is well.

Is all well?

The work is placed in the charge of the manager, and through him it filters down as part of the ordinary, natural course of events into the glazing-shop. Here this precious and fragile work of art we have described is handed over to a number of ordinary working men to treat by the ordinary methods of their trade. They know perfectly well that nobody above them knows as much as they, or, indeed, anything at all of their craft. Division of labour has made them "glaziers," as it has made the gentlemen above stairs, who do the cartoons or the painting, "artists." These last know nothing of glazing, why should glaziers know anything of art? It is perfectly just reasoning; they do their very best, and what they do is this. They take out the old, tender glass, with the colour hardly clinging to it, and they put it into fresh leads, and then they solder up the joints. And, by way of a triumphant wind-up to a good, solid, English, common-sense job, with no art-nonsense or fads about it, they proceed to scrub the whole on both sides with stiff grass-brushes (ordinarily sold at the oil-shops for keeping back-kitchen sinks clean), using with them a composition mainly consisting of exactly the same materials with which a housemaid polishes the fender and fire-irons. That is a plain, simple, unvarnished statement of facts. You may find it difficult of belief, but this is what actually happens. This is what you are having done everywhere, guardians of our ancient buildings. You'll soon have all your old windows "quite as good as new." It's a merry world, isn't it?

APPENDIX III

Hints for the Curriculum of a Technical School for Stained-Glass—Examples for Painting—Examples of Drapery—Drawing from Nature—Ornamental Design.

Examples for Painting.—I have already recommended for outline work the splendid reproductions of the Garter Plates at Windsor. It is more difficult to find equally good examples for painting; for if one had what one wished it would be photographed from ideal painted-glass or else from cartoons wisely prepared for glass-work. But, in the first case, if the photographs were from the best ancient glass—even supposing one could get them—they would be unsatisfactory for two reasons. First, because ancient glass, however well preserved, has lost or gained something by age which no skill can reproduce; and secondly, because however beautiful it is, all but the very latest (and therefore not the best) is immature in drawing. It is not wise to reproduce those errors. The things themselves look beautiful and sincere because the old worker drew as well as he could; but if we, to imitate them, draw less well than we can, we are imitating the accidents of his production, and not the method and principle of it: the principle was to draw as well as he could, and we, if we wish to emulate old glass, must draw as well as we can. For examples of Heads nothing can be better than photographs from Botticelli and other early Tuscan, and from the early Siennese painters. Also from Holbein, and chiefly from his drawings. There is a flatness and firmness of treatment in all these which is eminently suited to stained-glass work. Hands also may be studied from the same sources, for though Botticelli does not always draw hands with perfect mastery, yet he very often does, and the expression of them, as of his heads, is always dignified and full of sweetness and gentleness of feeling; and as soon as we have learnt our craft so as to copy these properly, the best thing is to draw hands and heads for ourselves.

Examples of Drapery.—To me there is no drapery so beautiful and appropriate for stained-glass work in the whole world of art, ancient or modern, as that of Burne-Jones, and especially in his studies and drawings and cartoons for glass; and if these are not accessible, at least we may pose drapery as like it as we can, and draw it ourselves and copy it. But I would, at any rate, earnestly warn the student against the "crinkly-crankly" drapery imitated from Dürer and his school, which fills up the whole panel with wrinkles and "turnovers" (the linings of a robe which give an opportunity for changing the colour), and spreads out right and left and up and down till the poor bishop himself (and in nine cases out of ten it is a bishop, so that he may be mitred and crosiered and pearl-bordered) becomes a mere peg to hang vestments on, and is made short and dumpy for that end.

There is a great temptation and a great danger here. This kind of work, where every inch of space is filled with ornament and glitter, and change and variety and richness, is indeed in many ways right and good for stained-glass; which is a broken-up thing; where large blank spaces are to be avoided, and where each little bit of glass should look "cared for" and thought of, as a piece of fine jewellery is put together in its setting; and if craftsmanship were everything, much might be said for these methods. There is indeed plenty of stained-glass of the kind more beautiful as craftsmanship than anything since the Middle Ages, much more beautiful and cunning in workmanship than Burne-Jones, and yet which is little else but vestments and curtains and diaper—where there is no lesson taught, no subject dwelt on, no character studied or portrayed. If we wish it to be so—if we have nothing to teach or learn, if we wish to be let alone, to be soothed and lulled by mere sacred trappings, by pleasant colours and fine and delicate sheen and the glitter of silk and jewels—well and good, these things will serve; but if they fail to satisfy, go to St. Philip's, Birmingham, and see the solemnities and tragedies of Life and Death and Judgment, and all this will dwindle down into the mere upholstery and millinery that it is.

Drawing from Nature.—There is a side of drawing practice almost wholly neglected in schools, which consists, not in training the eye and hand to correctly measure and outline spaces and forms, but in training the finger-ends with an H.B. pencil point at the end of them to illustrate texture and minute detail. It is necessary to look at things in a large way, but it is equally necessary to look at them in a small way; to be able to count the ribs on a blade of grass or a tiny cockle-shell, and to give them in pencil, each with its own light and shade. I find the whole key to this teaching to lie in one golden rule—not to frighten or daunt the student with big tasks at first. A single grain of wheat, not a whole ear of corn; some tiny seed, tiny shell; but whatever is chosen, to be pursued with a needle-pointed pencil to the very verge of lens-work. I must yet again quote Ruskin. "You have noticed," he says,⁹ "that all great sculptors, and most of the great painters of Florence, began by being goldsmiths. Why do you think the goldsmith's apprenticeship is so fruitful? Primarily, because it forces the boy to do small work and mind what he is about. Do you suppose Michael Angelo learned his business by dashing or hitting at it?"

Ornamental Design.—It is impossible here to enter into a description of any system of teaching ornament. At p. 294 I have given just as much as two pages can give of the seed from which such a thing may spring. In some of the collotypes from the finished glass the patterns on quarry or robe which spring from this seed may be traced—very imperfectly, but as well as the scale and the difficulties of photography and the absence of colour will allow.

What I find best, in commencing with any student, is to start four practices together, and keep them going together step by step, side by side, through the course, one evening for each, or some like division.

Technical Work.—Cutting, glazing, &c.

Painting Work.—By graduated examples, from simple outline up to a head of Botticelli.

Ornament, as described; and

Drawing from Nature, in the spirit and methods we have spoken of.

Moulding the whole into a system of composition and execution, tempered and governed as it goes along by judiciously chosen reading and reference to examples, ancient or modern.

NOTES ON THE COLLOTYPE PLATES

It is obvious that stained-glass cannot be adequately shown in book-illustration.

For instance, we cannot have either the scale of it or the colour—two rather vital exceptions. These collotypes are, therefore, put forth as mere diagrams for the use of students, to call their attention to certain definite points and questions of treatment, and no more pretending than if they were black-board drawings to give adequate pictures of what glass can be or should be.

This is one reason, too, for the omission of all attempt to reproduce ancient glass. It was felt that it should not be subjected to the indignity of such very imperfect representation, and especially as so many much larger books on the subject exist, where at least the scale is not so ill-treated.

But, besides, if one once began illustrating old glass, one would immediately seem to be setting standards for present-day guidance, and this could only be done (if done) with many annotations and exceptions and with a much larger range of examples than is possible here.

The following illustrations, therefore, show the attempts of a group of workers who have endeavoured to carry into practice the principles set forth in this book. It has not been found possible in all cases to get photographs from the actual glass—always a very difficult thing to do. The illustrations can be seen much better by the aid of a moderately strong reading-lens.

PLATE I.—Part of East Window, St. Anselm's, Woodridings, Pinner, by Louis Davis. The design, cartoons, and cut-line made, all the glass chosen and painted, and the leading superintended by the artist.

I.—Part of Window. St. Anselm's, Woodridings, Pinner.

PLATE II.—Another portion of the same window, by the same. Scenes from the Life of St. Anselm. Executed under the same conditions as the above. The freehand drawing and the varying thickness of the leads in the quarry work should be noted.

II.—Part of Window. St. Anselm's, Woodridings, Pinner.

PLATE III.—Window in St. Peter's Church, Clapham Road—"Blessed are they that Mourn," by Reginald Hallward. The whole of the work in this instance, including cutting, leading, &c., is done by the artist himself. As an instance of how little photography can do, it is worth while to describe such a small item as the scroll above the figure. This is of glass most carefully selected (or most skilfully treated with acid), so that the ground work varies from silvery-white to almost a pansy-purple, and on this the verse is illuminated in tones varying from pale primrose to the ruddiest gold—the whole forming a passage of lovely colour impossible to achieve by any system of "copying." It is work like this and the preceding that is referred to on p. 266.

III.—Window. St. Peter's Church, Clapham.

PLATE IV.—Central part of Window in Cobham Church, Kent, by Reginald Hallward. Executed under the same conditions as the preceding.

IV.—Part of Window. Cobham Church, Kent.

PLATE V.—Part of Window in Ardrahan Church, Galway—"St. Robert" by Selwyn Image. From the cartoon. See p. 83.

V.—Part of Window. Ardrahan, Galway.

PLATE VI.—Two Designs for Domestic Glass, by Miss M. J. Newill. From the cartoons.

VI.—From Cartoons for Domestic Glass.

PLATE VII.—"The Dream of St. Kenelm," by H. A. Payne. The author had the pleasure of watching this work daily while in progress. It was done entirely by the artist's own hand, by way of a specimen "masterpiece" of craftsmanship, and the aim was to use to the full extent every resource of the material.

VII.—Window. "The Dream of St. Kenelm.

PLATE VIII.—Six "Quarries"—"Day and Night," "The Spirit on the Face of the Waters," "Creation of Birds and Fishes," "Eden," and "The Parable of the Good Seed," by Pupils of H. A. Payne, Birmingham School of Art. These lose very much by reduction, and should be seen with a lens magnifying 2-1/2 diameters. They are the designs of the pupils themselves (boys in their teens), and are examples of bold outline untouched after tracing. They are more elaborate than would be desirable for ordinary quarry glazing; being intended for interior work on a screen, to be seen close at hand with borrowed light.

VIII.—Quarries. (Size of originals, 4-1/2 by 4 ins.)

PLATE IX.—Micro-photographs. 1. A piece of outline that has "fried" in the kiln. Magnified 20 diameters. See p. 104.

2. A small Diamond seen from above. Magnified 10-1/2 diameters. The white horizontal line is the cutting edge.

3. A larger Diamond that has been "reset." That is to say, re-ground: the diagonal marks like a St. Andrew's Cross show the grinding down of the old facets by which the new cutting edge has been produced. Magnified 10-1/2 diameters.

4. No. 2 seen from the side. Magnified 10-1/2 diameters; the cutting edge faces towards the left.

IX.—Micro-photographs from details connected with Glass Work.

PLATE X.—Micro-photographs of Glass-cutting Very difficult to explain. "A" is a sheet of glass seen in section multiplied 15-1/2 diameters. The black marks along the top edge are diamond-cuts, good and bad, coming straight towards the spectator. The two outside ones are very bad cuts, far too violent, and have split off the surface of the glass. Of the two inner ones the left-hand one is an ideally good cut, no disturbance of the surface having occurred; the right-hand a fairly good one, but a little unnecessarily hard. Passing over B for the present—C is a similar piece of glass also magnified 15-1/2 diameters, with wheel-cuts seen endwise (coming towards the spectator). The one on the left is a very bad cut, the surface of the glass having actually split off in flakes, the next to it is a perfect cut where the surface is intact, and note that though not a quarter so much pressure has been employed, the split downward into the glass is deeper and sharper than in the violent cut to the left, as is also the case with the two other moderately good cuts to the right.

D, E—Wheel-cuts. In these we are looking down upon the surface of the glass. They are bad cuts, multiplied 20 diameters; the direction of the cut is from left to right. In the upper figure the flake of glass is split completely off but is still lying in its place. In the lower one the left-hand half is split, and the right-hand only partially so, remaining so closely attached to the body of the glass as to show (and in an especially beautiful and perfect manner) the rainbow-tinted "Newton's rings" which accompany the phenomenon of "Interference," for an explanation of which I must refer the reader to an encyclopædia or some work on optics. Good cuts seen from above are simply lines like a hair upon the glass, but the diamond-cut is a coarser hair than the wheel-cut.

If you now hold the illustration upside down, what then becomes the top edge of section C shows a wheel-cut seen sideways along the section of the glass which it has divided, the direction of this cut being from left to right.

In the same way section "A" seen upside down gives the appearance of a diamond-cut, also from left to right, and multiplied 15-1/2 diameters, while "B" held in the same position gives the same cut multiplied 78 diameters. The nature of these things is discussed at p. 48.

In their natural colour, and under strong light, they are very beautiful objects under the microscope. Even a 10-diameter "Steinheil lens," or still better its English equivalent, a Nelson lens, will show them fairly, and some such instrument, opening out a new world of beauty beyond the power of ordinary vision, ought, one would think, to be one of the possessions of every artist and lover of Nature.

The illustrations that follow are from the work of the author and his pupils conjointly. Those in which no design has been added are for clearness' sake described as "by the author"; but it is to be understood that in all instances the transcribing of the work in the glass has been the work of pupils under his supervision. All design of diaper, canopy, lettering, and quarries is so, in all the examples selected.

X.—Micro-photographs. Diamond and Wheel Cuts seen in Section and Plan.

PLATE XI.—From Gloucester Cathedral—"St. Boniface" by the author and his pupils.

XI.—Part of Window. Gloucester Cathedral.

PLATE XII.—From the same—"The Stork of Iona" and "The Infant Church," by the same. Canopies from Oak and Ivy.

XII.—Part of Window. Gloucester Cathedral.

PLATE XIII.—Portion of a Window in progress (destined for Ashbourne Church), by the author. This has been specially photographed on the easel, to show how near, by the use of false lead lines, &c., the work can be got, during its progress, to approach to its actual conditions when finished.

XIII.—Portion of Unfinished Window, photographed from Work on the Easel.

PLATE XIV.—Drawings from Nature, by the author's pupils. Pieced together from various drawings by three different hands; made in preparation for design of Oak "canopy." See p. 324 and Plate XI.

XIV.—Drawings from Nature, in Preparation for Design.

PLATE XV.—Part of East Window of School Chapel, Tonbridge, by the author. From the cartoon: the figure playing the dulcimer is underneath the manger, above which is seated the Virgin and Child.

XV.—Part of Window. Tonbridge School Chapel, photographed from the Cartoon.

PLATE XVI.—Figure of one of the Choir of "Dominations." From Gloucester, by the author and his pupils.

XVI.—Part of Window. Gloucester Cathedral.

The names of the pupils whose work appears in Plate VIII. are J. H. Saunders and R. J. Stubington. In Plate XIV. A. E. Child, K. Parsons, and J. H. Stanley; and in the Plates XI. to XVI. J. Brett, L. Brett, A. E. Child, P. R. Edwards, M. Hutchinson, K. Parsons, J. H. Stanley, J. E. Tarbox, and E. A. Woore. The cuts in the text are by K. Parsons and E. A. Woore.