have been written by Longlande, though also ascribed | founded A. D. 1104, by Juga, sister of Ralph to John Malvern, a monk. We present a short Baynard, (who held the manor at the time of the extract: In a summer season, when soft was the sun, That went forth in the world wonders to hear, Domesday survey) for a prior and eleven canons, of the order of St. Augustine, and consecrated by Maurice, Bishop of London. At the suppression, this monastery was given to Robert, Earl of Sussex, by that rapacious sovereign, Henry VIII.; but it has since been in the possession of several different families. It was on a bright and beautiful morning at the latter end of October, 1831, that I set out from the town of Dunmow, in quest of this little temple. I had more than one inducement to lead me there, for, besides its having been so long celebrated for the jocular ceremony of awarding the flitch, or gammon, of bacon (thrice performed within its walls previous to the Reformation), it is there that the fair Matilda lies buried, who, better known by the name of Maid Marian, shared the fortunes of Robin Hood. Malvern was a favourite resort of Henry VII., who built the Abbey Church. In its architecture you may trace the same hand which raised that beauteous edifice at Westminster. Its painted windows have long been celebrated, but they exhibit only a type of their olden beauty. Massive and imposing, yet airy in its details, the Abbey exhibits the ravages of the great destroyer on its walls, and a bazaar was held in the village to raise funds for its repair last summer. I was aware that Mr. Douce considers the story as Since the long visit of the Duchess of Kent and a dramatic fiction, and that the female character which Princess Victoria, we believe Malvern is fast growing figures in the old ballads was borrowed from a French in fame and extent. There are three springs, cele- pastoral drama of the eleventh century, entitled, “ Le brated for their medical efficacy, one of which is far Jeu du Berger, et de la Bergère," in which the prinup the acclivity; which combined with the airiness cipal persons are Robin and Marian, a shepherd and and salubrity of the situation, render it a desirable shepherdess; and I was well acquainted, on the other residence for the invalid. A little below the Wor-hand, with the opinion of Mr Steevens, Bishop cestershire Beacon is a circular half-ruined building, Percy, and Master Drayton, that the name Marian was originally assumed by a "lady of high degree," who was murdered at Dunmow priory. It was, therefore, with feelings of no common interest, that I first caught a distant view of the modest little fabrica field and spacious; burial ground dotted with headstones, decayed and covered with moss, separates it from the road. These were soon crossed, and having noticed a neighbouring farmhouse, which stands on the site of the monastery (and wherein is an oak table, of great age and huge dimensions, that groaned with the viands of the richer visitors, who came nearly a century ago to witness the last delivery of the flitch to Master Shakeshanks, wool-comber, and his worthy helpmate), and nearly stumbled over a stone coffin, (hollowed within to suit the shape of the body it once contained) I unlocked the nail-studded door, and entered the church. The No. I.—PRIORY CHURCH, LITTLE DUN MOW, ESSEX. sunbeams, which streamed through the delicate tra cery-work of three lofty windows, shed a mild radiance upon the surrounding objects, and the serenity which pervaded the whole scene, so different from the tur THIS interesting and venerable relic of the olden time stands in a cornfield, about four miles distant from the town of Dunmow, (the Villa Faustina of the Ro-moil of the world, seemed powerfully to whisper, mans). It was formerly the eastern end of the south "This is none other than the house of God." aisle of a magnificent collegiate church, erected for the joint use of the parish, and of a religious house, A beautiful airy screen of dark oak, curiously carved, and probably coeval with the pile itself, sepa rates the body of the church from the chancel; on the left side of which, between two pillars of the Tuscan order, I found, as I expected, the fair alabaster Effigy of the celebrated Matilda. The face, although much disfigured, bears traces of former beauty: her hands are clasped as in prayer. The following description of this figure, (together with the annexed representations,) is derived from Gough's Sepulchral Monuments. On the head, which reposes upon a cushion, is a covering like a woollen night-cap. She has a collar of SS; a necklace of pendents falling from a rich embroidered neckerchief; a rich girdle, and long robes, the sleeves close to the wrists, and slit there. Her fingers are loaded with rings, there being two on several of them. Her face is round and full, but rather inexpressive. At her head were two angels, now mutilated, and a dog on each side her feet. According to the "Chronicle of Dunmow," in the Monasticon, vol. ii. p. 76, she was buried between two columns in the south part of the choir; but her effigy, with its slab, is now placed upon a gray altar tomb in the position before mentioned. The tomb is decorated with shields in quatrefoils, parted by pairs of arches, and evidently of a more modern style than the incumbent figures. This lady's history is briefly as follows:-She was the daughter of Robert, Baron Fitz-walter, proprietor of Castle Baynard, who is distinguished in English History, as the "Marshal of the Army of God, and Holy Church;" and the leader of the illustrious barons, who extorted Magna Charta from King John. Upon her entering her eighteenth year, he invited the neighbouring nobles to a costly banquet. For three days, justs and tourneys delighted the assembled guests, and won honour and lady's love for many a new-made knight. On the fourth, a strange warrior, cased in mail, entered the lists, and vanquished the bravest of the combatants; his gallant bearing and handsome features enamoured the fair young queen of that high festival, and she blushed deeply when she hung the golden chain around the victor's neck, and kissed his lofty forehead. His countenance was clouded with sorrow, and as he came so he departed, none knew whither. Prince John (afterwards king), who had honoured the castle with his presence, became smitten by the charms of the high-born maiden, and basely endeavoured to obtain her for a mistress. The Baron Fitz-walter, her father, treated his proposals with just and natural indignation, which so enraged the headstrong prince, that (taking advantage of his brother's absence in Palestine, where the greater part of his followers were likewise fighting) he immediately attacked Castle Baynard, and slew its owner: but Matilda fled away to the green forest, and there, on the day following, was again met by the stranger knight; his burnished steel was laid aside, and he was clad in Lincoln green, the archer's garb. He told the lady that he was Robin Hood, the outlawed Earl of Huntingdon,-" at the mention of whose name the warrior trembled in his hall, and the ecclesiastic turned pale, although reclining on the episcopal throne," and that he would shield her innocence from the fierce and cruel ravisher. The prince discovered her retreat, and attacked the foresters; a sanguinary fray ensued, during which it is said that John and the lady (who was then in male attire) met and fought. The prince required her to yield, and she resolutely desired him to win her first, and so stoutly did she repulse him, that he was constrained to withdraw from the ungallant contest. This part of the story places Matilda in a somewhat unfeminine light, but great allowances must be made for the customs of that age, and the peculiar circumstances of her case. She afterwards married Robin Hood, and when king Richard restored him his earldom and estates, she became Countess of Huntingdon: when her husband was again outlawed by King John, she shared his misfortunes, and, at his death, took refuge in Dunmow Priory (which appears to have been enriched by some members of her family), trusting to spend the residue of her days in peace. The tyrant, however, who had never forgotten her bravery in Sherwood forest, dispatched a gallant knight, one Robert de Medewe (the common ancestor of the present Earl Manvers, and of the writer of these "Notes"), with a token to the fair recluse,-a poisoned bracelet. Ignorant of the accursed deed he went to perform, Sir Robert arrived at the priory, and was respectfully and cordially received. Matilda had lost the bloom and vivacity of youth, but her mien was stately, and her person still imposing. The rough warrior felt the flame of love kindling in his bosom, but he strove to stifle it, and, bidding the lady a hasty adieu, speedily departed. Whilst on the road to London, his fond feelings waxed stronger and stronger the farther he proceeded from the object of them, and, at length, being unable any longer to curb his passion, he turned his horse's head, and retraced his way. It was night when he reached the priory, but the light of many tapers streamed through the windows of the adjoining church on the weary soldier, and the solemn dirge of death awoke the slumbering echoes. With fearful forebodings he entered the house of prayer, and there in the chancel, on a bier and covered with flowers, was stretched the lifeless body of the unfortunate Matilda The bracelet was on her wrist, it had eaten its way to the bone, and the fiery poison had dried her life blood. The flesh was ghastly pale, but a heavenly smile irradiated her fine countenance: the priests were standing around, weeping, and the "Dies ira" died away on their quivering lips when the warrior entered. He flung himself upon the lady's corpse, invoking a thousand maledictions upon his own No persuasions could induce him to return to the camp and court, but, resigning his mail for the cowl and gown, he became a faithful brother of the order of St. Augustine. head. Facing the monument of this hapless female is another, erected to the memory of Walter, first of the name, who died A. D. 1198, and was buried with Matilda Bohun, his second wife, in the choir. Sir Walter is clad in plate armour, beneath which is a leathern shirt: his hair radiates from a centre curling inwards; the legs are broken off at the knees: the lady wears a tiara, decorated with lace, ear-rings, and a necklace: their heads repose on cushions, and their hands are raised in the usual supplicatory attitude. On the north side of the chancel is a mural monument to the memory of Sir James Hallet, knight; and near it stands the Chair, in which the happy couple, who AMONG the numberless discoveries to which the useful and ornamental arts are indebted, few are equal in importance to the invention of GLASS; an invention which has produced in none of those arts a greater change, or developed more striking beauties of combination, than in the department of Architecture. We cannot wonder at the feeling of surprise and admiration with which the ancient father beheld the rays of the rising sun streaming through the glazed chancelwindow, accustomed as he had been to the sight of a mere unfilled aperture, or at best to the insertion therein of a thin, semi-transparent plate of marble, or of horn. But, great as was the accession of beauty and convenience which architectural science thus derived, it remained for further discovery to show that the very light of heaven might be intercepted in its passage, and made to display a new world of varied imagery and gorgeous colour. The earliest notice that we have of so splendid an effort of refinement is instances wherein the whole window is a continued picture; but the former is the more frequent distribution,-a distribution which, while it is always attended with brilliancy of effect, is productive also of remarkable harmony of lines and of objects with those of the accompanying architectural masses. of the age of Pope Leo III., that is, about the year | branch, on a ruby or other ground. There are indeed 800, when an extreme of magnificence was effected in the ecclesiastical establishments of the day; but it was not until several centuries afterwards that the use of stained glass became a matter of frequent occurrence. The manufacture of this article was for a long period exclusively continental, and pursued at no place with so much success as at Venice. Proportionate, however, to the advancement of national liberty in this country on the ruins of feudal tyranny was the progress of the British arts, and among them of that now under consideration. Accordingly we find that, by the time when the Pointed style of architecture had attained its zenith of splendour in our land, we had artists of our own fully qualified for the execution of all those "painted stories" with which the windows of our old ecclesiastical and other edifices are so richly dight," without having recourse to foreign skill. As affording instances of this, we may refer to the fine windows of York Minster, executed by Thornton, about the year 1400; to several of those in the collegiate chapels and halls of Oxford; and to those also of the matchless chapel of King's College, Cambridge, the glazing of which last was performed in the time of Henry VIII. by Southwark artists, at the total price of one shilling and sixpence for every superficial foot, a pattern-sheet or "vidimus" having been previously prepared for all the various parts of the work, and submitted to the opinion of the official inspectors of the building. 66 But such being the nature of the old composition, the style in which the outlines so produced are filled up is characteristic and striking. With the general effect of chiaro-scuro, or the more detailed niceties of light and shade, our early artists were almost wholly unacquainted; and they endeavoured therefore to supply the want of these by the use of strong outline, and by a brilliant opposition of colours. Thus in the representation of niches, canopies, &c. so frequently borrowed from architecture, we find very sparing attempts at shadow, the whole object being usually boldly outlined in black and white, backed, it may be, by a bright ruby or azure ground; and, if further distiction of parts be wanted, it is gained by the substitution of various tints for some of the white or colourless. In the execution of the human figure, where the same minuteness of parts was not to be found, a more free use of shade in the features, limbs, and draperies, was unavoidable; yet this without any approach to the finished effects of modern art. This deficiency of course had a tendency to make colouring the great object of display, the brilliancy of which was further enhanced by the constant use of ground tints or carpetings, exhibiting rich diapers of foliage or of tracery, sometimes brought out on any colour by a darker shade of the same, and sometimes produced by blackening the piece of stained glass, and then removing the black in the required forms for the original tint to show through. To this we may add, that a glittering effect of colour was promoted, not only by the endless variety of heraldical achievements, but also by the circumstance of the ignorance of our old artists as to the means of using two distinct colours in conjunction on the same piece of glass; a limitation that obliged them, in sustaining the variety of their subjects, to add to their intricacy by making them masses of reticulated lead-work, the bands of which had the same effect as a distinct outline for subdivision and contrast. In directing a critical attention to the characteristics of this department of ancient art, we shall find in the primary point of composition much that is both distinctive and appropriate. The construction of our old windows necessarily limited the arrangements of design, by affording for the most part only long vertical compartments, divided by substantial stone mullions. Each of these compartments ordinarily contained one or more figures of patriarch, prophet, saint, king, warrior, founder, or benefactor, occupying frequently a sumptuous niche, whose rich canopy filled out the space above, while in that below were seen the armorial bearings either of the individual so depicted, or of some other of note, the whole being then circumscribed by a continued border of roses, oak or vine-leaves, fleur-de-lis, or other objects. A repetition of the same general features prevailed through- But besides originality of composition and vividness out the remaining lower compartments; and the head of colouring, there is, in the old productions of this of the window was then decorated, according to the description, much matter of general interest to engage forms produced by its ramifications, with, sometimes, a careful and minute attention. We have already similar devices of figures, grotesques, diapers of foliage, noticed the happy manner in which such subjects haror occasionally with the beautifully-flowing vine-monize and combine with the features of their asso to imitate their works with success. The chief occasion of this may be found in the imperfect acquaintance which the modern artists have with the princi it ciate architecture, producing, as they do, a succession of appropriate imagery, a subdued yet rich light, and a mysterious solemnity of effect, which give to some of our ecclesiastical interiors an air of enchant-ples of old English design, both pictorial and archiment. If we further investigate the same subjects in tectural. They seem to forget that these principles detail, we shall find abundant entertainment in con- are totally distinct from those observed in the painttrasting the grace and freedom of outline displayed ings of the later Italian masters, whose figures and in some figures with the highly grotesque and even groups are not unfrequently copied for the embellishabsurd management of others; in observing the pecu- ment of our windows in the pointed style, but always liarities of costume and habiliment, ecclesiastical, do- without success. Strict simplicity, solemn dignity, mestic or military, characteristic of the different per- and appropriate costume are primary points for consisonages depicted; and in remarking likewise the high deration in imitating the figures of our old windows. degree of finish often lavished on borders, carpetings, In the imitation also of those architectural decorations, and draperies, not unfrequently too minute to be dis- | with which such figures were anciently surrounded, tinguished by the eye of an ordinary observer. To is worse than puerile to suppose that mouldings and the antiquary and historian the armorial bearings also upon our old windows present on all occasions a valuable aid to the identification of individual characters, and to the discovery of family connexion; while the other subjects furnish them with constant information relative to the customs, the history, and the legends of the past, civil and ecclesiastical. country like ours, abounding with antique examples of vitrified painting, any one of which may be to some extent illustrative of the preceding remarks, it would be needless to particularize specimens beyond those already instanced. We have not yet indeed to lament the paucity of subsisting ancient productions; but we have to regret another, and scarcely an inferior, evil in the almost universally unsatisfactory attempts of modern times to restore or to imitate the old remains: a subject to some notice of which the foregoing observations naturally lead. Captivated with the vivid hues of the antique, persons have remarked with more frequency than judgment, "Such colours certainly cannot be equalled in the present day." With the exception perhaps of its reference to the ancient ruby, which appears to have been lost for the past two centuries, this assertion may be altogether denied; and, more than this, besides commanding all the resources of the old artists, ours of the present day are in possession of many practical advantages which the former had not, among which is that of their being able to lay every variety of colour on one and the same piece of glass, and thus often to execute with nicety, in ten pieces, a subject on which a hundred formerly would not have been so well bestowed. With these opportunities, therefore, and with greatly improved ideas upon the science of painting in general, our artists should be qualified for productions of a higher order than those of their ancient predecessors; and it remains then to be asked on what account they fail foliage borrowed from the Greek and Italian systems can by any possibility be so arranged as to bear a resemblance to the characteristic features of the old English style, a style as isolated as it is magnificent. Errors such as these can only be avoided by means of patient and attentive study, both of actual remains In a and of the numerous explanatory works now rendered generally accessible by the invaluable labours of able antiquaries and draughtsmen. But after an adequate acquaintance with the principles of design is attained, those of execution are no less to be observed; all the subjects of the painting, and especially those of an architectural character, being relieved more by strong black outline and variety of colour than by the use of decided shadows. Modern imitations are frequently injured by displaying too much of modern art; the work by being too highly finished, and that in few pieces, often loses the glittering effect that attends its more simple prototype. An additional precaution to be observed consists in the avoidance of excessive depth of colour; a consideration, the neglect of which has given to some modern imitations a vulgar gaudy appearance, totally dissimilar to the equalised and subdued yet lively colouring observed in the best specimens of the middle ages. But from observing what this beautiful art has done, and may do, after the ancient mode, a mode greatly deserving of attention, now that the public mind is somewhat awakened to a sense of the transcendent merits of the pointed style of architecture, we may pass on to welcome the successes of modern skill, in its more accustomed walk. In this department of the subject great advances toward perfection have latterly been made. It is not indeed in the trite decorations of sash doors and staircase windows that we shall find much proof of this; but we shall be better satisfied of the fact upon a stroll through the show-rooms of some |