“St. Frideswide Church, now Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford, is a fine example of late Norman and transitional work of early character. It was consecrated in 1180, and was probably building for about twenty years previously: the confirmation, by Pope Hadrian IV. (Breakspeare, the only English Pope), of the charters granting the Saxon monastery of St. Frideswide to the Norman monks was not obtained until 1158, and it is not probable that they began to rebuild their church until their property was secured. The Prior at this period was Robert of Cricklade, called Canutus, a man of considerable eminence, some of whose writings were in existence in the time of Leland. Under his superintendence the church was entirely rebuilt from the foundations, and without doubt on a larger scale than before, as the Saxon church does not appear to have been destroyed until this period.

“The design of the present structure is very remarkable; the lofty arched recesses, which are carried up over the actual arches and the triforium, giving the idea of a subsequent work carried over the older work; but an examination of the construction shows that this is not the case, that it was all built at one time, and that none of it is earlier than about 1160. In this church the central tower is not square, the nave and choir being wider than the transepts, and consequently the east and west arches are round-headed, while the north and south are pointed: this would not in itself be any proof of transition, but the whole character of the work is late, though very rich and good, and the clerestory windows of the nave are pointed without any necessity for it, which is then a mark of transition.”—(J. H. P.)

“After they were meet, and injoyned fasting and prayers were past, as also those ceremonies that are used at such times was with all decency performed, then those bishops that were appointed, accompanied with Alexio, the pope’s legat for Scotland, went to the place where she was buried, and opening the sepulchre, took out with great devotion the remainder of her body that was left after it had rested there 480 yeares, and with all the sweet odours and spices imaginable to the great rejoycing of the multitude then present mingled them amongst her bones and laid them up in a rich gilt coffer made and consecrated for that purpose, and placed it on the north side of the quire, somewhat distant from the ground, and inclosed it with a partition from the sight hereafter of the vulgar.”—(A.-À-W.)

“In the Lancet period (1190-1245) the works went on apace. An upper stage was added to the tower and on that the spire was built—the first large stone spire in England. It is a Broach spire, i.e., the cardinal sides of the spire are built right out to the eaves, so that there is no parapet. On the other hand, instead of having broaches at the angle it has pinnacles. Moreover, to bring down the thrusts more vertically, heavy dormer windows are inserted at the foot of each of the cardinal sides of the spire,—altogether a very logical and scientific piece of engineering, much more common in the early spires of Northern France than in England.”—(F. B.)

“The whole church is exceedingly interesting. It fills a niche in the history of English architecture all by itself. It is not the early and rude Traditional work of the Cistercians. On the other hand, it has not yet the lightness and grace of Ripon; still less the charm of the Canterbury choir, Chichester presbytery, Wells and Abbey Dore—Gothic in all but name. In spite of a pointed arch here and there, it is a Romanesque design.

“The work commenced, as usual, at the east, as is shown by the gradual improvement westward in the designs of the capitals. The evidence of the vaulting, too, points in the same direction. In the choir-aisle the ribs are massive and heavy; in the western aisle of the north transept they are lighted; in the south aisle of the nave they are pointed and filleted.”—(F. B.)

“From the same position at the west of the cloister one can enjoy the best view of the tower and spire of the church. One is close enough to see all the detail and yet from this angle nothing is lost of the general effect. On a moonlit evening the effect is particularly solemn and beautiful. From this point also should be noticed the difference in the masonry of the south transept. The lower story is entirely rubble, while the upper story is partly of good ashlar work.

“On the south side of the cloister is the Old Library, as it is now called, which was formerly the refectory of the monastery, and is all that now remains of the conventual buildings. Its large Perpendicular windows, rising like a clerestory above it, look on to the cloister, but they were spoilt on the inside by a staircase, when the building was turned into undergraduates’ rooms. On the other side, facing the meadow buildings, there is a curious little oriel window, its lights now walled up, that once contained the pulpit whence the lessons were read during meals.”—(P. D.)

“Christ Church is the smallest of our cathedrals; for even with the new ante-chapel it measures about 175 feet in length. Instead of being of the usual cruciform plan, it is now almost square,—in fact, the length from the reredos to the organ-screen is 132 feet, while the breadth across from the Latin Chapel to St. Lucy’s Chapel is 108 feet. The church is made up of the shortened nave with its two aisles, and ante-chapel, the central tower, the north transept with its one aisle, the south transept, and the eastern half of the church, which itself contains no less than six divisions,—the choir, with its two aisles, the Lady-Chapel on the north, and the Latin Chapel (or St. Catherine’s) on the north again of that, while on the south is the small chapel of St. Lucy.

“If the unusual appearance of the cathedral is partly due to Wolsey’s destruction, it is partly due also to its being used as a college chapel, and partly to the fact that in general plan, and to some extent in detail, it is Ethelred’s design, commenced seventy years before the great developments of Norman architecture began.”—(P. D.)

“There are various opinions about this window, which represents Jonah sitting under his gourd, and the town of Nineveh in the distance. We must confess to a great admiration for it; the foliage is fine and rich, and if it is a little over-strong in its green, that only makes it more characteristic of its age. And, however that may be, there cannot be two opinions as to beauty of the town in the background, which reminds one irresistibly of DÜrer; and, with its rich brown houses, bluish roofs, touches of greenery, and fair purple hills beyond, makes the right-hand light of the window a picture of which one never wearies. The whole is leaded in rectangular panes, like Bishop King’s window.”—(P. D.)

“The figure of Hope has a greyish-blue drapery, varied in tint and diapered with the pattern of a flower in stain. The scarf floating round the figure is sky-blue in tone and lighter than the dress. The figure of Charity has a ruby over-mantle, with a white dress underneath; while the figure of Faith has a blue dress beautifully and richly diapered, the upper portion with a sumptuous Venetian design familiar on the brocades of the Sixteenth Century, and the lower portion with a sprig of foliage. The tone of the backgrounds is a rich, warm green, and is very carefully painted with foliage, and the contrast yielded by

the pale blue of the drapery, and the rich, warm green of the background in the two outside windows, is most harmonious and striking. The detail in this window is very elaborate, and every part of it bears traces of care and thought.”—(P. D.)

“Fergusson considers this work to be the most satisfactory attempt ever made to surmount the great difficulty presented in all fan-tracery by the awkward, flat, central space which is left in each bay by the four cones of the vault. At Gloucester, King’s College Chapel, Cambridge, Henry VII.’s Chapel, Westminster, and other places, various attempts were made to deceive the eye, and hide the unmanageable space; in Henry VII.’s Chapel the well-known pendants were boldly introduced with this object. None were wholly satisfactory, but, says Fergusson:—

“‘Strange as it may appear from its date, the most satisfactory roof of this class is that erected by Cardinal Wolsey over the choir of Oxford Cathedral. In this instance the pendants are thrust so far forward, and made so important, that the central part of the roof is practically quadripartite. The remaining difficulty was obviated by abandoning the circular, horizontal outline of true fan-tracery, and adopting a polygonal form instead. As the whole is done in a constructive manner and with appropriate detail, this roof, except in size, is one of the best and most remarkable ever executed.’

“Fan-tracery is a peculiarly English feature, and was invented, according to Fergusson, in order to get rid of the endless repetition of inverted pyramids which earlier vaulting produced. He therefore considers it an improvement on the vaulting of the early English and Decorated periods; and, as he thinks the ceiling of Christ Church Cathedral to be the best example of fan-tracery, he comes near to pronouncing it the finest in the world.”—(P. D.)

“Here the eye wanders among pillars and arches which branch away in so many directions that the grandest churches can scarcely give more thoroughly the idea of infinity. And here one stands on the site of St. Frideswide’s first little church, with the very arches that she had built for her, still standing in all their primitive simplicity.

“At the end of the north-choir-aisle is the St. Cecilia window, presented in honour of the patroness of music by Dr. Corfe, a former organist, in 1873. In the centre light the saint is represented playing her regal or small hand-organ; two angels holding other musical instruments, with palms in their hands, stand by her. The drapery is wrought in white glass, the angels have pale-blue wings, and the flesh tints matted over with red tell warm against the drapery. In the lower panels are three scenes from her life: ‘Here St. Cecilia teaches her husband,’ ‘Here an angel of the Lord teaches St. Cecilia,’ ‘Here St. Cecilia wins a heavenly crown;’ the saint’s figure in the last panel is most touchingly drawn. These lower panels are richer in colour than the rest, and a greater variety of tints is introduced; but the colours are so delicate, and so skilfully blended, that they fall in most harmoniously with the main parts of the window.”—(P. D.)

“The coffer or shrine, which was made for the translation in 1289 (its base being therefore the most ancient monument in the cathedral), was knocked to pieces at the Reformation (1538), and, being of wood, must have entirely perished. But gradually, and from different places, fragments of the base were brought together: first, several pieces of delicately carved marble were discovered in the sides of a square well in the yard south-west of the cathedral; then a part of the plinth on the south side was found to be in use as a step, luckily with the carved portion turned inwards; next a spandrel was detected by Mr. Francis, the head verger, in the wall of the cemetery; and last of all a piece of the plinth was found in a wall in Tom Quad. Though some portions are still wanting, it is not impossible that more may yet be found.

“As the monument stands now, it cannot, of course, impress one as it would have done in its perfect state, with the rich superstructure crowning it: especially as the restored shafts are merely square stone supports of the clumsiest description, so studiously careful has the restorer been not to confuse them with the original work. Still, though the base of St. Frideswide’s shrine is only a collection of fragments, these fragments are of remarkable beauty and interest. It is of Forest marble, measuring seven feet by three and a half; and consists of an arcade of two richly cusped arches at the sides and one at each end. On the top of this was fixed the feretrum, containing the jewelled casket that held the relics themselves. The spandrels are filled with wonderfully carved foliage, unusually naturalistic, and preserving still the traces of colour and gilding to remind one of its former glories. On the south side there is maple in the central spandrel, with a wreath of what is probably crow’s-foot in a boss below: the two side spandrels contain columbine and the greater celandine. On the north side the foliage is mostly oak, with acorns and numerous empty cups; sycamore and ivy filling the adjoining spandrels. At the east end one of the spandrels contains vine leaves and grapes, the other fig-leaves, but without the fruit; the cusp under the vine has a leaf which may be that of hog-leaf. At the west end there is hawthorn and bryony. The choice of all this foliage was doubtless made for symbolical reasons, referring first to St. Frideswide’s life in the oak woods near Abingdon, and next to her care for the sick and suffering at Thornberrie (now Binsey). And in this connection it is pleasant to think that the sculptor, with tender fancy, chose plants which were famous for their healing virtue.”—(P. D.)