Colour and light: English stained glass

York Minster

When I was in York last year this was all that could be seen of the Minster's Great East Window...

But happily, conservation work on it is now almost completed and the window is once again on display.

The window, one of the largest surviving medieval windows in the country, tells the story of the beginning and end of the world, as well as incorporating various clerical figures connected with York and the north of England.

This is the St William window in York Minster, depicting William's rather eventful life and some of the miracles attributed to him. There is are more detailed pictures, and an article about the restoration of the window, here.

All Saints North Street

The St Anne window in All Saints North Street, donated by the Blackburn family. This window is now the East Window behind the altar, although this is probably not its original positioning. St Anne, to whom the Blackburns seem to have had a special devotion, is in the centre light, flanked by St John the Baptist on the left and St Christopher (also a favourite saint of the Blackburns) on the right.

And here are the junior Nicholas and Margaret Blackburn, kneeling piously in the bottom left corner of the window. Opposite them, in the bottom right corner [not shown here] are Nicholas and Margaret senior.

Church of St Mary Magdalene, Brampton
(Detailed historical and architectural information about this church, which dates back to the 13th century, can be found here.)

This window (not medieval!) shows, from left to right, St Fidelia, St Peter, St Stephen and St Perpetua (all early martyrs). The small bottom lights are memorials to the soldiers of World War I (detail below).

Ruth - who took my fancy because of the lovely red colouring of her dress, and because I have never seen her in any other window.

This is a tiny little window set low down into the chancel wall.

The West Window, above the West Door.

Der Untermieter

Plantagenet Rose's roses

Long time no blog! As most of you already know, I have been away for the past month, in England, indulging in walking, swimming, sightseeing, raspberries, strawberries, and Pimm's; rejoicing in the British 'summer;' marvelling at Brexit; attempting to drive a manual; taking far too many photographs of medieval stained glass; and smelling the roses.

The most famous medieval roses are of course the white rose of the Yorkists and the red rose of the Lancastrians:

via

The Wars of the Roses may have officially ended in 1485 with the triumph of the Earl of Richmond (who became Henry VII, the first Tudor king), but modern-day Lancashire and Yorkshire remain jealously proud of their respective roses. Both counties use the rose on their road signs (the brown ones pointing to sites of historical significance) and the roses are also a pretty common sight on flags, fluttering over the doorways of authentic olde worlde tourist shops!

Digging around for information on roses in the Middle Ages I came across a very interesting article in the gloriously-named Economic Botany journal, to which I refer the curious for further reference:

Mia Touw, "Roses in the Middle Ages," Economic Botany 36 no. 2 (1982): 71-83.

But now for some real roses (names are my own, not botanical!):

Rambling roses (Stonegarth)

Morning glory rose (Stonegarth)

Fiery rose (Stonegarth)

Wild rose - the sweetest of all roses (Hinchingbrooke County Park, Huntingdon)

One of the loveliest sights in all England is roses growing wild in the hedgerow... (Hinchinbrooke County Park, Huntingdon)

Austrian roses

Roses in the priest's cemetery at Stift Sankt Florian (Austria)

Beatrix Potter's roses (Hill Top, Lake District)

Sunset roses: perfect imperfection (Stonegarth)

I am the queen whom everybody knows:

I am the English Rose;

As light and free as any Jenny Wren,

As dear to Englishmen;

As joyous as a Robin Redbreast's tune,

I scent the air of June;

My buds are rosy as a baby's cheek;

I have one word to speak,

One word which is my secret and my song,

'Tis "England, England, England" all day long.

(Cicely Mary Barker, The Song of the Wild Rose Fairy)