olour.

An old record of the screen of the chapel of St. Andrew
at Westminster mentions that it was "adorned with curious carvings
and engravings, and other imagery work of birds, flowers, cherubims,
devices, mottoes, and coats of arms of many of the chief nobility
painted thereon. All done at the cost of Edmond Kirton, Abbot, who
lies buried on the south side of the chapel under a plain gray
marble slab." H. Keepe, who wrote of Westminster Abbey in 1683,
mentioned the virgin over the Chapter House door as being "all
richly enamelled and set forth with blue, some vestigia of all
which are still remaining, whereby to judge of the former splendour
and beauty thereof." Accounts make frequent mention of painters
employed, one being "Peter of Spain," and another William of
Westminster, who was called the "king's beloved painter."

King Rene of Anjou was an amateur of much versatility; he painted
and made many illuminations: among other volumes, copies of his own
works in prose and verse. Aside from his personal claim to renown
in the arts, he founded a school in which artists and sculptors
were included. One of the chief sculptors was Jean Poncet, who
was followed in the king's favour by his son Pons Poncet. Poor
Pons was something of a back-slider, being rather dissipated; but
King Rene was fond of him, and gave him work to do when he was
reduced to poverty. The monument to his nurse, Tiphanie, at Saumur,
was entrusted to Pons Poncet. After the death of Pons, the chief
sculptor of the court was Jacques Moreau.

CHAPTER VIII

SCULPTURE IN STONE

(_England and Germany_)

A progressive history of English sculpture in stone could be compiled
by going from church to church, and studying the tympana, over
the doors, in Romanesque and Norman styles, and in following the
works in the spandrils between the arches in early Gothic work.
First we find rude sculptures, not unlike those in France. The
Saxon work like the two low reliefs now to be seen in Chichester
Cathedral show dug-out lines and almost flat modelling; then the
Norman, slightly rounded, are full of historic interest and
significance, though often lacking in beauty. The two old panels
alluded to, now in Chichester, were supposed to have been brought
from Selsea Cathedral, having been executed about the twelfth century.
There is a good deal of Byzantine feeling in them; one represents
the Raising of Lazarus, and the other, Our Lord entering the house
of Ma