Dorchester, Oxon, has not the slightest resemblance to Dorchester, Dorset: the two have little in common save their name, which might well have been much more than duplicated, seeing how many must have been the camps and fortresses upon various waters. Fortunately, with the result of saving us from the confusion of dozens of Dorchesters, our very remote ancestors were possessed of sufficient resourcefulness to enable them to fit distinctive names to those places. The great days of Dorchester are done, and the place is so quiet and slumberous, although on a high road, that the first part of the place-name might almost be held to derive from the French verb dormer, to sleep. The one street, long and somewhat picturesque, the fine stone open-balustraded bridge across the Thame, and the church: in that inventory you have an outline of Dorchester. The great parish church that was once an Abbey church, the successor of an early Cathedral, although an architectural and archÆological feature of great interest, does not form so striking a picture as it should; for the building is long and low, with level, unbroken roof-line, and an ineffective tower at the west end; and it displays its inordinate length prominently to the road. SEDILIA, DORCHESTER ABBEY.
The cathedral that once stood here was that of the great bishopric of Dorchester, founded in A.D. 635 by Birinus, who had been sent by the Pope, Honorius, the year before, to preach Christianity to the Saxons. The see of Dorchester lasted, with some intermissions, until 1086, and comprised the greater part of England, including what are now the bishoprics of Winchester, Salisbury, Exeter, Bath and Wells, Lichfield, Hereford, Worcester, and Oxford. A few traces remain of that abandoned Saxon cathedral, but they are such that only expert archÆologists can point them out; and of the Early English Abbey church begun by the Augustine monks to whom it had then been granted, in 1140, the nave alone is left. The nave in an ordinary building would be an important item, but the Abbey church of Dorchester is an extraordinary structure, and of such a plan that the architectural features of its nave cannot well be very striking. The building was originally without aisles. It adjoined the Abbey cloisters, which were situated on the north side, and consequently the north wall of the nave has few openings. The choir was rebuilt grandly, in the Decorated style, about 1330; and at a slightly earlier date a north aisle had been added to it, circa 1280. In 1300 a south-choir aisle was built, and twenty years later, a south-nave aisle. To this was added the Perpendicular porch. The tower was constructed about 1680, in a debased manner. Thus the northern wall, from end to end, is largely blank, and the architectural graces of the building are reserved chiefly for the south aspect. The remarkable east end is built upon ground abruptly sloping to the east, and is, moreover, closely set about with trees. The choir is the most notable portion, containing finely-carved stone sedilia, with small spherical triangular windows at the back, filled with twelfth- and fourteenth-century stained glass, setting forth the story of St. Birinus. The arrangement of these sedilia and the shape and design of these windows, profusely decorated with the “ball-flower” ornament, form probably an unique architectural composition. The great east window, for beauty easily in the front rank among elaborately-designed windows, is as remarkable as it is beautiful, being intricately traceried in its entire length, instead of, in the usual way, plainly mullioned for two-thirds of its height, with the enrichment confined to the head. The surpassing beauty of this design is perhaps even thrown into more prominent relief by the stark ugliness of the bare stone pillar dividing it in half. It seems probable that in olden times this was filled with a Crucifixion. The presence of this undesirable feature is a structural necessity. It is, in fact, a buttress, necessitated by the sharp fall in the ground outside. There is no excuse, however, for the stupidity which has caused some hangings to be erected at the back of the altar, by which a portion of the window is obscured. THE EAST WINDOW, DORCHESTER ABBEY.
But certainly the most extraordinary and interesting of windows is that on the north side of the choir, immediately adjoining the east window. It is the famous “Jesse Window,” of which the centre mullion represents the genealogical tree of Jesse, whose figure, in a reclining posture, is seen below. From the centre mullion spring branches at regular intervals on either side, worked decoratively in stone. Twenty-seven little figures, also carved in stone, represent the various personages of the House of David, and sixteen others are in stained glass. The exterior of this remarkable window is extraordinarily mean and thin, and gives no hint of the beauty of the interior. Some altar-tombs and brasses remain, sadly mutilated, and the west end of the church is more or less of a stone-heap, where many fragments of the building are preserved. The chapel at the east end of the south choir-aisle was rebuilt by Sir Gilbert Scott. The work was largely a conjectural reconstruction, a type of undertaking Scott above all things delighted to engage upon, generally with results far from satisfactory; but in this case it is an unquestioned artistic success. It may, however, be observed that the constructional part of it is poor, for it is bodily subsiding into the deep gully that runs past the east end; and must soon be underpinned, or heavily buttressed, if it is not to fall into ruin. The Norman font is of lead; a very fine example, exhibiting, within arcading, seated figures of the twelve apostles, in high relief. Another leaden THE JESSE WINDOW (ON THE LEFT), DORCHESTER ABBEY. Between Dorchester and Wallingford, whether we proceed by the Oxfordshire side of the river or the Berkshire, we are in a level district of many springs, to which the place-names of the villages numerously bear witness. Thus in Berkshire there are the two conjoined delightful villages of Brightwell and Sotwell, where a little rill goes rippling by, until early summer dries it up. The name “Brightwell” thus speaks for itself. Sotwell, I presume, means “sweet well.” And in Oxfordshire, beyond the scope of these pages, is another Brightwell, with the family name of “Salome” added to it; while the name of Ewelme, a beautiful and historic village near by, means simply “wells.” Just beyond Wallingford, too, is Mongewell. The river runs between, with the beautiful stone bridge of Shillingford, and the water-side village of Benson on the way: Benson, by common consent lopped of much of its name, being really “Bensington.” So unanimously has the locality agreed upon the shorter form, and for such a length of time, that even map-makers have adopted it. Of the clan of Bensings, whose chief settlement this was, we can know nothing; and the later conflicts between the Saxon kingdoms of Wessex and Mercia, in which Bensington changed hands with great frequency, until Mercia at length assimilated it, are such far-off, remote doings that it is perhaps a little difficult to take even a languid interest in them. Even the old coaching days seem remote, although large and imposing specimens of |
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