This section is from the book "The Art Of Decoration", by H. R. Haweis. Also available from Amazon: The Art Of Decoration.
In England, where so much of life is of necessity passed indoors; in London and all large towns, where the outlook is so uninteresting or so ugly as to be commonly outside the question of taste - why do we use so little painted glass? Why have we not fair pictures to look at, stories written in light and colour, to give the inmates some more pleasurable ideas than black chimney pots or wet slates? In early England coloured glass was the most beautiful ornament they could devise for their windows, the crown of their superb architectural effects; it was too costly for any but princes and the Church, and in the Church it survives to show us what they meant by it - but it had no exclusively religious significance, it was associated only with beauty and wealth. In 'Chaucer's Dream ' we read of A chamber peynt Ful of stories olde and diverse; and of the fair bird which, in its fear of the aged knight, took wing, missed the opening,
That backeward downe he fel From a window richely peynte With lives of many divers seynte, and broke the window. And Chaucer speaks of an Isle Where wal and gate was al of glasse.
That the beauteous carvings abounding in the architecture of the fourteenth century were coloured to imitate nature, Chaucer's words may again be quoted to prove; likewise the decorative iconceits,' as bird-shaped weathercocks, which with beaks open 'against the air' produced a sound like birds singing.
For every yate,1 of fine gold, A thousand fanes, ay turning Entuned had, and briddes2 singing Diverse: and on ecbe3 fane a paire With open mouthe, again the aire. And of a sute4 were alle the floures, Of uncouth5 colours, during ay, That never bene none6 sene in May.
Alas, May's colours do not 'dure' for aye. Stephen Hawes also describes this use of fanes in a London street. This objection does not apply to the many country-houses where coloured windows would be a vast improvement, but it is certainly true of many town-streets. It is, however, answered by the fact that much of the good modern glass, such as the pale diaper-patterned kind provided by Clayton and Bell, Morris, and Powell - and providable by any intelligent glass manufacturer - does not exclude light. In certain positions it occasionally even adds light, owing to the refractive property of uneven surfaces. It is not as interesting, of course, as glass artistically painted in subjects, but it is very useful as a screen, and often an ornament of considerable beauty.
Aloft7 the toures the golden fanes goode Dyde8 with the wynde make ful sweete armony.
It is quite certain that colour and glitter were sought by all who could afford it, and it was afforded by the Church in honour of God, as it was by the wealthier citizen in honour of himself. Why have we, rich or no, forgotten the charms of colour, and especially translucent colour, and banished it from our home surroundings? Why does the careless eye admit the most glowing tints on sofa and chair seats without feeling the want of it on our blank spaces of cold wall, and, above all, in our vast vacant windows?
Because, most persons will say, painted glass excludes the light, and all light that can be got is indispensable
1 Gate. 2 Birds. 3 Each. 4 Suit. 5 Strange, foreign. 6 Such as are never. 7 Above. 8 Did.
 
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