height from the ground, in order to allow the stalls of the first
ritual choir to be set flat against the wall. This shows that Bishop
Reginald, when he rebuilt the church, kept to the old Romanesque
arrangement and made his choir under the tower, reserving his three
bays of what is now the choir for the presbytery--a very dignified
arrangement. The square holes for fixing the wooden screen of this
earlier choir can still be traced on the aisle walls in a line with
the ninth piers of the nave.
THE SCREEN was built in the fourteenth century; but Salvin altered and
spoilt it by bringing forward the middle portion to carry the
unsightly organ. Mr Freeman objected very strongly to the choir being
shut off from the nave by this screen, and urged the authorities to
pull it down and throw the whole church open from end to end. The
remedy suggested by Mr St. John Hope, on the other hand, is that a
second screen should be erected under the western arch of the tower,
against which the nave or rood altar should stand, with seats for the
choir on either side. Such a screen as this was certainly used in
conventual churches, and would be more in accord with the spirit of
medieval architecture, which was content to sacrifice the grandeur of
great space in order to gain the qualities of seclusion and mystery,
and inexhaustible variety.
Two things, at least, are certain. The long-established custom of
crowding the Sunday congregation into the choir should be abolished,
and the organ should be modified or removed. Magnificent Sunday
services could be held in the nave, either with a second screen and
altar or without a screen at all; but, as the former plan could be
tried without any destruction of old work, it should be tried first.
[Illustration: Choir, Looking West.]
As for the organ, the cathedral will always be defaced while it
remains as a whole in the midst of the screen. Musical experts could
no doubt distribute it so that it would no longer be an offence to the
eye, and yet would sound more effectively than at present. Perhaps
galleries for the swell, pedal, and great organs might be built above
the pier-arches in the western bay of the choir on either side, and
the consol, with the choir organ, might remain on the screen. Some
fragments of tabernacle work on the triforium level would thus be
hidden, but it is unremarkable work, exactly similar to that of the
adjoining bays, and, moreover, it was so blocked and patched when the
tower was strengthened that it would not be a disadvantage to hide it.
As it is, the organ, unsightly in shape, and garishly painted, blocks
up the view of the splendid east window, and makes the nave a mere
vestibule to the choir. The inverted arches are generally thought to
block up the church, but were the organ removed it would be found that
they do not.
THE ORGAN is a modern instrument by Willis. Dean Creyghton, a musician
whose services are still sung in the cathedral, built the old organ in
1664, and S. Green of London repaired it in 1786, but only one
diapason remains of the old stops. The case also disappeared, the
present one being among the ugliest in England. There are three
manuals; thirteen speaking stops on the great organ, ten on the swell,
nine on the choir, and eight on the pedal organ. The swell organ is
rather small, but has been recently improved; the pedal organ is the
best feature of the instrument. The wind is supplied by hydraulic
machinery. There are four pneumatic pistons, six couplers, and seven
composition pedals. The organist now sits on the south side, so that
he can see his choristers, whether they sing in the choir or the nave.
THE CHOIR.--The western part of the choir should be particularly
noticed. For, while the three eastern bays which form the presbytery
are Late Decorated, the three western bays of the choir are
twelfth-century work of Bishop Reginald's time, being, in fact, the
oldest part of the interior. That they were finished before Reginald's
other work in the transepts and nave is not only likely from the
general custom of medieval architects, but is made probable by the
carving of the capitals, which is less advanced than that in any other
part of the church.
It will be noticed, however, that, though the three arches remain of
the earlier bays, the two easternmost _piers_ of the old part are
Decorated, like those in the three later bays; and some of their arch
mouldings have been cut away in order to fit the new capitals. The
reason for this peculiar combination of a new pier with an old arch is
an interesting one. The original pier marked the east end of
Reginald's church, and it was taken from under its arch because, being
at the junction of the east wall with the side walls, it was a large
compound pier quite unfitted to stand as one of an arcade. The three
bays then formed the presbytery of the church, and the choir was
placed, Norman fashion, under the tower. A further evidence of this
being the original east end of the church is presented by the two
early buttresses outside at this point, which are much wider than any
of the others. But there must have been an ambulatory beyond the east
end of the old church, since Reginald's work is carried a bay farther
east in the choir aisles. There may, too, have been a small chapel
beyond.
Speaking of the contrast between the three early bays and the later
work, Freeman says: "The new work, though exceedingly graceful, is
perhaps too graceful; it has a refinement and minuteness of detail
which is thoroughly in place in a small building like the Lady Chapel,
but which gives a sort of feeling of weakness when it is transferred
to a principal part of the church of the full height of the building.
The three elder arches are all masculine vigour; the three newer
arches are all feminine elegance; but it strikes me that feminine
elegance, thoroughly in its place in the small chapels, is hardly in
its place in the presbytery."
Certainly, the mouldings of the later arches will not bear comparison
with those of the earlier. The suave strength of the transitional
mouldings forms a most instructive contrast to the less effective
minuteness of the decadent work. The same is true of the capitals:
those of the later period have little architectural significance, and
many of them are further weakened by the fact that not the capital
only, but the adjoining part of the shaft as well, is cut out of white
stone.
With the exception, however, of the three pier-arches themselves,
there are few signs of the twelfth-century work. For, when the new
presbytery was finished, the clerestory over the old arches was
altered, and the triforium cased with tabernacle work (though not in
quite so rich a style), so as to bring them into harmony with the
fourteenth-century work, and to fit them to carry the new vault. The
tabernacle work of the presbytery must have been completed first; for
no attempt was made to keep it at the same level with the old part,
which, when the builders determined to adapt it to the new, caused a
very marked break at the juncture.
[Illustration: CHOIR, LOOKING EAST. PROCESSION PATH AND LADY PATH
BEYOND.]
There is, strictly speaking, no triforium, the space being occupied by
the rather florid tabernacle work, the effect of which is, of course,
considerably impaired by the absence of statuary. The niches in the
presbytery are deeper than those in the choir; they spring direct from
the pier-arches, having no spandrel, and they contain richly-foliated
brackets, which rest on triple shafts. This part is also marked by
triple vaulting shafts of Purbeck, which are carried down to the
floor.
The clerestory windows contain flowing tracery of an advanced and not
very good type. In some the plain mullions are carried on through the
head of the window and intersect each other.
Above the tabernacle work of the east end is the east window of seven
lights, the last bit of the fourteenth-century reconstruction, the
last flicker of Decorated freedom. Its curious tracery is still
beautiful, doubly so for the glass it enshrines, but the rule and
square of Perpendicular domination have already set their mark upon
it; the two principal mullions run straight up to the window-head, and
part of the tracery between them is rectangular.
The inhabitants of Wells are, or were, exceedingly proud of the
"vista" into the procession-path and Lady Chapel, which is afforded by
the three dainty pointed arches of the east end. So proud were they
that they would suffer nothing to stand behind the high altar but a
low stone wall, barely higher than the altar itself, an arrangement
which, it is hardly necessary to point out, defeated its own end by
reducing the whole effect to absolute baldness. Mr Freeman wisely
pointed out the need of a respectable reredos, remarking that the
original founders never dreamed of the Lady Chapel acting as a
"peep-show to the choir." A Lady Chapel, he added, was built specially
not to be peeped into, but to be a thing apart from the great whole of
the church, from the high altar westward. After a while, a reredos was
offered to the church, and approved by Mr J.D. Sedding, who was then
the cathedral architect; but there was much opposition, and the scheme
was dropped. Dean Plumptre, with characteristic temerity, went so far
as to appeal to the witness of the _vox populi_ that the open view was
the best. Since then, wiser counsels have prevailed, and a curtain
(small and dingy, it is true, but still a curtain) now hangs behind
the altar. While giving a measure of dignity to the east end, it, of
course, emphasises, as every architect must have known that it would,
the charm of the "peep" into the chapels beyond.
A larger reredos would further enhance the peculiar charm of the east
end. There can, indeed, be little doubt that the ancient reredos was
of tabernacle work, so as to carry on the effect of niches of the
triforium storey. Their present disconnectedness can be no part of the
original plan, and a reredos full of statues, which was high enough to
group adequately with the rich canopies above could have been the only
way to secure dignity and unity of effect. Till an architect is found
capable of mastering so delicate a problem of proportion as such a
reredos must present, we may well be content with a larger and
brighter curtain. The low east wall, with its ugly cresting, warns us
not to embark too rashly upon modern stonework.
The lierned stone vault, with its heavy, angular ribs, is of a very
unusual kind. Mr Freeman described it as "a coved roof, such as we are
used to in woodwork in this part of England, only with cells cut in it
for the clerestory windows." The restorers have gilded the bosses, but
the space between the ribs is smoothed in a way that gives the
appearance of there being no masonry in the construction. One can
hardly judge the ceiling, therefore, by its present appearance, which
is not further improved by the green wash with which some of the
clerestory windows are covered.
The general appearance of the choir suffers pitiably from the
ill-advised restoration of 1848 and the following years. Before that
time its aspect must have been curious and encumbered; but the
judicious removal of the pews and galleries, and the restoration of
the truncated oak canopies of the stalls, would have made matters
right at a small cost, and without the destruction of any old
woodwork. As it was, everything was ruthlessly swept away. The
tabernacled stalls, which eighteenth-century vandalism had respected,
vanished utterly before the restoring mania of the Gothic revivalist,
even their traditional position and order being changed.
The result is just what might have been expected. The place has been
completely modernised. Chilly stone canopies cover the stalls; they
are of the kind of workmanship which forty years ago was considered
excellent. That is to say, they are covered with frigid, ungainly, and
pompous ornament, cut with mechanical regularity, and without one
trace of feeling or one line of beauty from beginning to end. Below,
and between them, the choir is encumbered, much as it was before 1848,
with rows of stalls, which are continued in the presbytery almost up
to the tawdry brass altar-rails. Two more pale ghosts of medieval art
front each other in complacent parody of the work their makers could
not even copy--the pulpit and the bishop's throne. The former is Early
Victorian; the latter is worse, it is a restoration of Perpendicular
work so relentless that not a sign of the original conception remains.
Plate-glass fills the tracery at the sides, and the door is a piece of
solid swinging stone. On the completion of this terrible work, the
restorers seem to have felt dimly the want of colour, which previously
had been so abundant. They therefore proceeded to furnish with that
peculiar musty red which used to cast a gloom over our childhood--red
cushions on the seats, red cushions on the desks, red hassocks on the
floor, red edges to the books, hot red in the bishop's throne, dull
red on the altar, before the altar, and behind the altar, it is all
red but the chilly white stone, and the all-pervading woodwork of the
seats, which adds the muddy gloom of oak that has been stained and
varnished to the miserable poverty of the whole.
The cause of all this desolation was just the ignorance of its
promoters as to the functions of a cathedral. The choir was looked
upon as a select church for the leading families of the town, and the
seats in it were appropriated; the nave was a vast empty space that
was never used for worship at all. Hence the organ on the screen,
hence the setting back of the stalls, so that the choir might be
widened, and more seats "rammed, jammed, crammed," to use Freeman's
indignant words, into the space. Instead of the long continuous range
of stalls which formerly existed, there are now groups of five under
each arch, with the result that ten of the prebendaries are without
accommodation. Such is the heavy legacy of blunders with which the
dean and chapter are burdened. It will take many a year before the
choir can be redeemed from its unfortunate state; but the present
arrangement of the altar is a great improvement on its position only a
few years ago, and no doubt similar measures will in time completely
efface the traces of 1850.
Of the old woodwork the MISERICORDS have alone escaped destruction.
Sixty-four of these remain, fifty of which belonged to the prebendal
stalls of the upper row, though they were removed from their proper
position at the restoration. Sixty of the seats are now in the lower
rows of the stalls, the other four are preserved in the library. It is
enough to say of them that no finer examples of wood-carving can be
seen in England. The following description of the wonderfully fresh
and varied subjects was supplied by Mr St. John Hope for a paper read
by Canon Church before the _Society of Antiquaries_ in March 1896:--
_South side, first row._--1, a goat (broken); 2, a griffin
fighting with a lion(?); 3, a man in hood and drawers riding with
his face to the tail of a barebacked horse; 4, a hawk preying on
a rabbit; 5, a mermaid (unfinished); 6, two popinjays in a fruit
tree; 7, an ape carrying a basket of fruit on his back (broken);
8, a double-bodied monster; 9, a dog-headed griffin; 10, two
goats butting (unfinished); 11, a monkey holding an owl
(unfinished); 12, two dragons interlocked and biting each other's
tails; 13, an ewe suckling a lamb (unfinished); 14, a wyvern and
a horse fighting. _South side, second row._--15, a mermaid
suckling a lion; 16, a man holding a cup? (broken), sitting on
the ground, and disputing with another man holding a pouch; 17, a
cat preying on a mouse (unfinished); 18, a monster with bat's
wings; 19, a griffin devouring a lamb; 20, a puppy biting a cat;
21, a man in a contorted position upholding the seat; 22, a
serious-looking dog; 23, a cat playing a fiddle; 24, a man seated
on the ground and thrusting a dagger through the head of a dragon
with feathered wings; 25, bust of a bishop, in amice, chasuble,
and mitre (unfinished); 26, a peacock in his pride; 27, a fox
preaching to four geese, one of which has fallen asleep (broken);
28, a cock crowing. _North side, first row._--29, a lion dormant;
30, a dragon with expanded wings, asleep; 31, a man with his left
eye closed, wearing a cloak and squatting on the ground with his
hands on his knees; 32, a fox running off with a goose in his
mouth; 33, head of a man with donkey's ears; 34, two monsters
with male and female human heads, caressing (unfinished); 35, a
man on his back upholding the seat with his right hand and right
foot; 36, a lion with the ears of an ass; 37, a hawk scratching
its head; 38, a sleeping cat (unfinished); 39, a woman with
dishevelled hair and agonised expression, crouching on the ground
with the right hand on her shoulder, the other extended; 40, a
dragon with hairy belly biting his back; 41, two ducks addorsed,
one with his beak open; 42, two dragons fighting (unfinished);
43, a bat's head (unfinished). _North side, second row._--44,
head of a man with bushy hair and beard, with a lion's leg
growing out of each side; 45, a man in tunic and hood, lying on
his side and clasping his hands; 46, a man in girded tunic, with
his head downwards, upholding the seat with his back and left
hand; 47, head of a lady with hair in a caul on each side,
covered with a veil confined by an ornate fillet; 48, a
gentle-looking lion; 49, a bat displayed; 50, head of an angel,
with amice round neck and expanded wings; 51, a lion; 52, two
doves about to drink from a ewer standing in a basin
(unfinished); 53, a squirrel with a collar round his neck, trying
to escape from a monkey who holds him by a cord; 54, a
wood-pigeon feeding; 55, a man riding on a lion, to whose
buttocks he is applying a whip; 56, a boar and a cat with cloven
feet, walking in opposite directions; 57, an eagle displayed
(unfinished); 58, head and shoulders of a man who upholds the
seat with his hands; 59, a rabbit regardant; 60, a two-legged
beast regarding its tail, which is formed of three oak-leaves on
one stem. _In the Library._--61, a man in hood and loose tunic,
kneeling on the ground and thrusting a spear down the throat of a
dragon; 62, a boy in gown, with long, wavy hair, lying on his
side and drawing a thorn out of his left foot (of coarse late
seventeenth-century work); 63, a dove or pigeon feeding her
young; 64, a sorrowful-looking king sitting cross-legged on a
cushion between two rampant griffins, who are secured by straps
buckled round their necks.
GLASS IN THE CHOIR.--Over the high altar is a superb specimen of the
Jesse window. It is so intricate, that at first nothing can be
distinguished in the glow of jewelled colour but the twining branches
of the vine, and a little time is needed to enter into the spirit of a
window that is all the more enduring for not being very obvious. The
following excellent description by Canon Church (in a sermon preached
in the cathedral on May Day 1890) will make the legend easy to
decipher:--
"In the central light are the foremost figures of the Bible story. At
the base is the recumbent figure of Jesse with name inscribed, with
head resting on hand as in meditation. From that figure, as from the
vine stem, issues upward the leading shoot, bearing upon it the
figures of the Virgin Mother crowned with ruby nimbus, and the Holy
Child with gold nimbus, both under a golden canopy. Above, in line, is
the Crucifixion. On either side, the waving tendrils of the vine
shoots intertwine themselves in rings of light round figures of those
who prepared the way for the advent of the Word Incarnate. On the
lower tier, in line with Jesse, are, we may believe, the ancestors of
Jesse. Amminadab and Obed are inscribed on two of the pedestals--others
are nameless. Stately figures they are in face and form, in flowing
mantles of green, and ruby and gold, like Arab chiefs, some with the
Arab head-covering such as is worn to-day--figures such as some artist
in the last crusading host might have seen and designed, so different
from the conventional portraiture of Bible characters.
"In the second tier are the Kings and Prophets chosen to represent the
heralds of the Babe of Bethlehem, the Word Incarnate. Three
kings--David with his 'immortal harp of golden wires'; Solomon, with
Temple model in his hand, in robes of emerald, and ruby, and gold, are
on either side of the central Figures; and Jechonias, the link in the
pedigree between the royal David and the captive exile. Three
Prophets--Abraham, misplaced indeed in order of time, but most fitly
in place as 'the father of the faithful, unto whom and through whom
the gospel was before preached to the Gentiles' (Gal. iii. 8); Hosea,
and Daniel. All these are clad in the magnificence of Oriental
drapery, the colours of each pair on either side of the central light
answering like to like. Some are looking upward, some are pointing
with outstretched hand towards The Child, towards the Crucified One.
"There in central light in the mid-panel of the window is the Virgin
Mother and the Holy Child, The Child born in Bethlehem the home of
Jesse, not in David's royal Palace, the flowering shoot of the stem of
Jesse. Now from His throne on His Mother's knee He looks out over the
world and as with outstretched arms to embrace. A ray of white light
on the Mother's head gives a natural halo of purity to Her 'the highly
favoured' 'with grace replete,' whom all generations have called
'blessed,' as she looks down wondering on the Holy Child.
"A subdued and sadder colour seems to veil the subject of the highest
panel in the central light. There is the green Cross in the
background, and upon it are affixed the attenuated arms and the bent
form of the Crucified--the head drooping on the breast. On either side
of the Cross stand, the sorrowing Mother on the right, in attitude of
calm resignation, very different from the conventional garb of
mourning, and the exaggerated expression of grief in so many
paintings; on the other hand St. John, in sadder colours and the gloom
of grief. Again above, in two of the smaller six-cusped lights, are
figures rising from the tomb, and in the two at the side are angels
blowing trumpets calling to judgment. At the head and apex of the
window are outstretched wings as of the Holy Spirit like the Dove
brooding over the world re-created by the Word made Flesh, giving
Himself for our redemption."
The clerestory windows contained a figure under a canopy in each of
the lower lights. Four of these old windows remain. One light in the
north-east window contains a St. George, thus described by Mr C.
Winston (_Arch. Soc., Bristol vol._): "He is clad in a surcoat which
reaches to the knee. He wears a helmet, avant and rerebras,
shin-pieces and sollerets of plate, or rather cuir boulli; the rest of
his person is defended with mail, on his shoulders are aiglettes." In
the next window are St. Egidias with very distended ears, and St.
Gregory in a tiara. There are also two modern windows; a glaring one
by Willement has St. Dunstan and St. Benignus, who were both abbots of
Glastonbury and St. Honorius; another, by Bell, has Augustine,
Ambrose, and Athanasius.
THE AISLES OF THE CHOIR are entered from the transepts by ogee arches,
which have crockets and finials, and are flanked by a pair of
pinnacles on either side. The aisles are of the same character as the
choir itself, as they were vaulted when the choir vault was made, and
new windows of the Decorated style were inserted in the western bays
as well as in the newer part. There is a stone bench along the aisles
on both sides, and on the north side some very fine specimens of Early
English carving lie on the bench. The vaulting is lierned with four
bosses at each intersection. The foliage of the third group of
capitals on the north side consists of a single leaf which runs
horizontally round the caps.
Two old wooden doors, with fine hinges, close the entrance to the
presbytery on the north and south sides.
The body of Bishop Jocelin lies buried in the midst of the choir,
where he was laid in the place of honour as a founder. Bishop Godwin
relates that the tomb was "monstrously defaced" in his time, and all
traces of the burying-place were lost until, in 1874, an ancient
freestone coffin was found under the pavement in the midst of the
choir. Its covering stone had been broken, and the bones within
disturbed; but on its discovery the stone was renewed, and the
inscription _Jocelinus de Welles, Ep._ 1242 cut on it.
THE SOUTH-EAST TRANSEPT is the chapel of St. John the Evangelist, but
it is mainly occupied by a stove, one of those characterised by Mr
Freeman as "the most hideous stoves with which human perversity ever
disfigured an ancient building." Odds and ends are also kept here, in
accordance with the extraordinary idea, not yet quite extinct, that a
chapel is a place where rubbish may be shot. There is, nevertheless, a
decorated piscina in the east wall to remind one of its former
purpose. Against the south wall is the tomb of the learned _Dean
Gunthorpe_ (1472-98), who built the present Deanery, and gave to the
cathedral a silver image of our Lady, 158 oz. in weight. His initials
occur on the panels, I.G. on a blue ground, and also his arms, which
include guns, in allusion to his name. There are traces of colour,
especially a strong light blue on the panels. Unless one has good
nerves, it is advisable not to look at the window, which was given by
the students of the Theological College under Canon Pindar, its first
Principal. The middle of this unfortunate chapel is encumbered with a
monument to _Dean Jenkyns_ (_ob._ 1854), the ornamentation of which may
be taken as marking the lowest point to which the debasement of Gothic
design has descended. A row of tiles round it serves to make it more
conspicuous, and its unhappy prominence is further secured by a low
brass railing of unutterably bad workmanship. It was Dean Jenkyns who
restored the choir, and Professor Freeman remarks that on his tomb "is
written, with an unconscious sarcasm, _Multum ei debet ecclesia
Wellensis_," words which, he slily points out, seem to be borrowed
from Lucan's address to Nero, the destroyer of Rome, _Multum Roma
tamen debet_, etc.
MONUMENTS IN THE SOUTH CHOIR AISLE.--Besides two of the
thirteenth-century effigies of earlier bishops, there are in this
aisle two ancient monuments of great interest. In the second bay is
the tomb of _Saint William Bytton_ (1267-1274), a low slab of Purbeck
marble, with the figure of a bearded and fully-vested bishop, in the
act of benediction, cut upon it. This is the oldest incised slab in
England; and it was at this tomb that the offerings were made which
helped to finish the church. Godwin says that "many superstitious
people (especially such as were troubled with the tooth-ake) were wont
(even of late yeeres) to frequent much the place of his buriall, being
without the North [a mistake for south] side of the Quier, where we
see a Marble stone, having a pontificall image graven upon it."
It may have once been more raised than now, and four small plugged
holes in the masonry of the wall opposite suggest the existence of
some arrangement in connection with the devotions here. In the
restoration of 1848 the tomb was discovered between the second and
third piers of the south choir aisle. It is thus described by Mr J.R.
Clayton, an eye-witness on the occasion:
"On the coffin being opened in the presence of Dean Jenkyns, it
contained a skeleton laid out in perfect order, every bone in its
right place; an iron ring, and a small wooden pastoral staff in two
fragments; a leaden tablet, 10 in. by 3-1/3, with inscription most
beautifully rendered in Lombardic characters.
_Hie jacet Willelmus de Button secundus Bathoniensis
et Wellensis episcopus sepultus XII.
die Decembris anno domini MCCLXXIIII_."
It was noted at the same time that "the teeth were absolutely perfect
in number, shape, and order, and without a trace of decay, and hardly
any discoloration." From this one would infer that the saint was
famous in his lifetime for his beautiful teeth, and that it was for
this reason that his aid came to be invoked after his death by those
suffering from toothache. It is certainly curious that men now living
should have discovered his teeth to be still in such perfect
preservation. His contemporaries would, no doubt, have called it a
miracle.
A little farther east is the remarkable tomb of _Bishop Beckington_,
surrounded by an exquisite iron screen of the same period. Its canopy
formerly projected into the choir, being large enough to form a small
chantry; but, when the choir was so stupidly restored, the canopy was
dragged from its place, and set up in St. Calixtus' chapel, where it
still is (p. 99,) a hard-looking stone screen being built between the
tomb and the choir in its stead. The tomb is divided into two parts,
the arcade which forms the canopy of the lower effigy supporting the
slab on which rests the figure of the bishop. The carving is very
beautiful, and the delicately-wrought wings of the angels, which
spread over the arches so as to fill the spandrels, are especially
fine. Traces of colour are strong on the tomb, as they are on the
canopy from which it has been divorced, so that one can form some
little idea of what the whole must have been like in its first
magnificence.
The effigy of the bishop rests upon it, the old and wrinkled face
(best seen from within the choir) bearing deep traces of that active
public life which did so much for the city and the church. Below, in
strange contrast to the gorgeous vestments, which have still the
remnants of the painted pattern on them, lies a corpse, almost a
skeleton, in its open shroud. At first one's feeling is that of
repulsion, but it is lessened when we remember that Beckington himself
had the tomb made, and consecrated it before a vast concourse of
people, saying mass for his own soul, for those of his parents, and of
all the faithful departed in the January of 1452. Thus for thirteen
years did this great and famous prelate live with his tomb standing as
a witness to all that, under those sumptuous robes of office which we
are told he wore at its consecration, he knew himself to be but as
other men, and could wait humbly for his end.
A little farther east is a large and rather clumsy effigy of _Bishop
Harewell_ (_ob._ 1386), whose name and arms are suggested, in the
playful fashion of the time, by two hares at his feet. Harewell is
known to have been a portly man.
To the west of Beckington's monument an altar tomb in reddish
alabaster has been placed in memory of _Lord Arthur Hervey,_ the late
bishop, with an effigy by Mr Brock. It may be hoped that it is the
last of its kind, since there is little room for more tombs, and great
need of other and more useful forms of memorial.
_Bishop Drokensford's_ tomb, at the entrance to the south-east
transept, is of unusual design, the ogee heads of its panels being
through-cut from side to side. Only the bases remain of its canopy,
which was taken down in 1758, as it was thought to be in danger of
falling. There is a good deal of colour on the tomb; the chasuble is
red with green lining, its orphreys are painted on the stone. The
apparel is also painted on the alb, the orphreys and ornaments on the
mitre, and a lozenge-shaped pattern on the cushion. Two shields are
emblazoned over and over again on the spandrels, the ground being
alternately red and green with white sprays of foliage; the coat with
four swans' heads, couped and addorsed, is Drokensford's. He was
bishop when Dean Godelee's great works were going on, and he gave
money towards building the central tower.
MONUMENTS OF THE NORTH CHOIR AISLE.--One of the Early English
effigies, which were made probably by Bishop Jocelin, lies here, with
a modern inscription, to _Bishop Giso_. There are four others, to
_AEthelwyn, Leofric, Duduc_, and _Burwold_, all having the same
characteristics, in the ambulatory chapels and opposite aisle.
Graceful and solemn as they are, they seem rough in outline, as if
they were carved by a hand used to calculating for the distant views
of the west front, and almost weather-worn, by the side of the more
highly-finished effigies in marble and alabaster which are near them.
In the year 1848, when these monuments were set back and placed on
their present ugly bases, they were found to contain boxes with bones
therein, and leaden tablets with the name of each bishop inscribed
upon them.
A different monument is that of _Ralph of Shrewsbury_ (_ob._ 1363),
whose marble effigy, scored by the names of long-departed vandals,
affords a good example of the episcopal ornaments, the mitre, gloves,
maniple, the apparel round the neck, and the vexillum round the
crozier. The tomb formerly stood surrounded by a grating, in the midst
of the presbytery, for Ralph was the "finisher" of the church. But it
was afterwards moved, and, says Godwin, it "lost his grates by the
way." At the entrance to the little transept is the tomb of _Dean
Forrest_ (_ob._ 1446), similar to that of Drokensford in the opposite
aisle, but more mutilated. The canopy is gone, but fragments of it are
in the undercroft of the chapter-house.
THE NORTH-EAST TRANSEPT is the chapel of St. John Baptist, and
contains a Decorated piscina. On its east wall is a sculpture of the
Ascension, which formerly was fixed in the east cloister above the
I.H.S. in the fourth bay. St. Andrew with his cross may be noticed
among the Apostles. There are traces of blue in the background, and of
red in one of the cloaks. Most noticeable among its monuments is the
handsome marble sarcophagus and effigy _of Bishop Creyghton_, who gave
the lectern. The figure is vested in cope, mitre, and alb, a fact
which is worth noting, as the bishop lived in the reign of Charles II.
There is also an effigy of _John de Myddleton_ or Milton, who, after
being chancellor for a very short time, became a friar and died in
1337. The plain tomb of _Bishop Berkele_ (_ob._ 1581) bears a curious
inscription, which assumes more than the character of its subject
would seem to warrant: _Spiritvs, ervpto, salvvs, gilberte novembre,
carcere principis en(c) aethere barkle, crepat. an: dat ista salutis._
Which may thus be translated, "Thy soul is safe, Gilbert Barkley,
having broken from its prison in the beginning of November, it speaks
from the sky. These words give the year of its safety," The words
referred to are in the middle part of the tomb--
_Vixi, videtis praemium:
83 Lvxi, redux quieascibus.
Pro, captua gendo praesulis
Septem per annos triplices_
The figures 83 at the side of _Vixi_ and _Lvxi_ suggested to Mr J.
Parker that the letters stood also for figures thus--vi (6) xi (11) lv
(55) xi (11), the total being 83, which was the age at which Berkeley
died. The quatrain may be translated--
"I have lived, you see my reward:
I have shone, returning to my rest.
Having held the office of bishop
For seven times three years."
The east end of the north aisle forms a roomy chapel which is
dedicated to St. Stephen, and contains a piscina of the same type as
those in the neighbouring chapels. Its east window has five lights,
and that in the side wall has three, with good reticulated tracery;
the principal mouldings are already assuming the large flat hollow
form which was to become characteristic of the Perpendicular style.
The chapel of St. Catherine on the south side corresponds to it
exactly.
[Illustration: Procession Path And Lady Chapel.]
THE PROCESSION PATH, or, to use the uglier and more accurate word, the
Retro-choir, is a rectangular space between these chapels and the
transepts, on the north and south, and the Lady Chapel and presbytery
on the east and west. This space is vaulted; and the vault is carried
by four slender piers of Purbeck marble, with attached shafts, in the
midst, by a group of Purbeck shafts on each of the two piers which
lead into the Lady Chapel, and by the light blue Purbeck shafts of the
eastern arches of the presbytery. As two of the middle piers (which
are set diagonally from north-east to south-west, and from south-east
to north-west) are in a line with the pier-arches of the choir, while
the other two, though in a line with those of the Lady Chapel (which
themselves project into the Path), are without those of the choir, a
complicated system of vaulting and a charming arrangement of piers is
the result. Indeed, this exquisite group of piers has never been
surpassed, and nothing can be found that better illustrates the
subtlety and extreme refinement of the last stages of Gothic
architecture at their best. At whichever point one stands fresh beauty
is apparent. It is merely a device for connecting Lady Chapel with
choir, while leaving a wide path free for processions, yet what a gem
of perfection has been drawn from the need! As one sits at the corner
near the south wall of the Lady Chapel, one can best appreciate the
range of vaulting, which, though it is doubled here, is of the same
height as that of the aisles, running faithfully round to cover the
ambulatory which encircles the choir, while on either side the pillars
soar upward to the higher vault of the Lady Chapel and the yet higher
ceiling of the choir. Opposite are the painted fragments of glass in
the north choir aisle, seen through the arches of the presbytery, and
the windows over the range of tabernacle work in the choir itself. On
the left the south aisle can be seen stretching onwards, across the
bright break of the transept, to the west end, and on the right are
the gorgeous windows of the Lady Chapel. Everywhere the slender
pillars stand, and the mouldings branch away from their rich capitals,
each doing its appointed work, calculated and exact, in what would
seem at first but a lavish profusion of marble shaft and moulded
stone. Yet we can hardly now imagine what it all was like before the
richly-decked altars were torn down, the painted windows knocked to
fragments, the canopies, tombs, and images defaced or destroyed.
The vault is lierned with richly-carved bosses still warm with the
marks of gilding; both on the bosses and the capitals the foliage is
of the crumpled character suggestive of the oak-leaf.
Unlike the piers of the Lady Chapel, the bases here are of marble,
though the plinths are of stone. Two grotesque heads, lower than the
bosses, at the north and south-western angles, hold three ribs in
their mouths, the ribs, which end there in seeming futility, being
used to cover an awkward corner of the vaulting.
GLASS IN THE CHOIR AISLES AND CHAPELS.--A good deal of glass in a more
or less fragmentary condition survives in the eastern portion of the
church. It is fine work of the first half of the fourteenth century.
In the south aisles there is good glass in all the upper lights; the
third window has later glass in the lower lights, which bears the date
1607, and consists of coats of arms and a series of small square
pictures of foreign type. The east window of St. Catherine's chapel is
composed of fragments fitted together at random; in the upper lights
of the south window are rather coarse heads of St. Aldhelm, St.
Erkenwald, and other saints: two of them should be noticed for the
early form of papal tiara. In the corresponding chapel of St. Stephen
both the east and north windows are the same, the north window even
containing a second head of St. Erkenwald; the other saints are
inscribed--"St. Stephanas Papa" (the Pope Stephen, who died 257), "S.
Blasii Epi" (St. Blaise), and "S. Marcellus Papa"; in the topmost
light of both windows is a small figure of Our Lord.
In the north aisle, the first window (counting from the east) contains
a St. Michael; the next a crucifix and a figure of St. Mary Magdalen,
with some sixteenth-century coats (including the curious arms of
Bishop Knight, p. 87) in the lower lights. Similar coats are in the
third window, which has a figure of St. John Baptist. The fourth
window contains modern glass erected in honour of Bishop Ken (p. 157),
as a memorial to Dean Plumptre, who died in 1891. In the centre Ken is
represented in full pontifical vestments, below him angels are
supporting his arms impaled with those of the see; over his head is
the favourite superscription of his letters, "All glory be to God,"
and at his feet his rule of life "_Et tu quaeris tibi grandia? Noli
quaerere_" (Jer. xlv. 5). The left-hand panels represent St. Paul
teaching Timothy (because Ken wrote the "Manual for Winchester
Scholars," and the "Exposition of the Catechism"), Christ's charge to
St. Peter; the right panels represent St. Paul before Agrippa and St.
Peter in prison (because Ken was one of the seven bishops imprisoned
by James II.). The two lower panels represent labourers going to their
work singing _Benedicite_, and a priest and choristers chanting _Nunc
Dimittis,_ in allusion to Ken's morning and evening hymns.
THE LADY CHAPEL was finished in 1326, before the presbytery was added
to the present choir, and thus it belongs to the middle of the
Decorated period. In plan it is octagonal, the three western sides
consisting of the three arches by which it is opened to the rest of
the church. It could, in fact, stand perfectly well as a detached
building like the Lady Chapel at Gloucester, and doubtless it did so
stand while the presbytery was a-building; but its connection with the
church itself allows its apsidal west end to be cunningly combined
with the beautiful pillars which support the vault of the ambulatory.
The arrangement by which these three western sides project into the
ambulatory is more easy to see than to describe; from the west side of
the piers which support them spring the vaulting ribs of the
retro-choir, while on the east side of the piers the shafts rise much
higher up to carry the loftier vault of the Lady Chapel. As the chapel
is not a perfect octagon like the chapter-house, but is elongated from
east to west, this vault was difficult to manage, and its lines are
somewhat distorted in consequence. The vault springs from triple
shafts between fine traceried windows of five lights, and its ribs
meet in a boss containing a beautiful figure of our Lord seated on a
throne with outstretched arms; the colour and gilding are well
restored.
Professor Willis said that "the polygonal Lady Chapel and the vaulted
work which connects it with the presbytery is a most original and
unique piece of architecture, of pure and beautiful design." As to the
first part of this sentence there can be no difference of opinion, and
all will agree as to the fineness of the general effect of the chapel;
yet there may well be two opinions as to the purity of the work. I
confess that the following criticism (_Builder_, Aug. 1862) from a
lecture of Mr E.W. Godwin seems to me to be not entirely without
justification:--"With the single exception of the way in which the
vaulting is managed, I look upon this Lady Chapel as no better than
the other work of the same date. There is a weakness about the
constant recurrence of the same form in the tracery of the windows;
the lines of the vault are, in some cases, clumsy to a degree; and the
capitals have lost their constructional character altogether. The
growth and vitality, the change and joyfulness, so visible in the
earlier caps, especially those with figures, are no longer to be seen.
Leaves are now stuck on; or, at the best, wreathed round the bell of
the capital; and so the _function_ of the capital--the upbearing
principle--is lost." So much for its defects. The peculiar excellence
of the chapel is that it gives that apsidal ending to the church which
adds so much to its beauty both within and without, and yet does not
interfere with the square end of the presbytery.
The Lady Chapel has been fitted up for the use of the Theological
College, and its furniture contrasts favourably with that of the
choir. A litany desk, stalls, and credence-table in oak have recently
been given, and a retable carved by Miss Neville; the altar cross,
however, is too stunted for its position. The eagle lectern, in spite
of its dark appearance, is modern, of Dean Goodenough's time. The
doorway on the south side led to the old vestry, so wantonly destroyed
in the present century: now that the chapel is in daily use the need
of the vestry is much felt, and a cupboard in St. John's chapel has to
serve for a makeshift. The gas-brackets are of later and more pleasant
work than those elsewhere.
Mr Ferrey discovered fragments of a reredos at the east end of the
chapel, and set them up as best he could to form the present reredos:
the original arrangement seems to be lost, for some of the pedestals
are on the level of the floor, while some of the niches at the top are
cut in half. Mr Ferrey restored the whole chapel at the same time, and
paved it with tiles.
GLASS IN LADY CHAPEL.--The large windows of this chapel are all filled
with beautiful fourteenth-century glass, but alas! in a marred
condition. The side windows contain fragments packed together anyhow.
The eastern window was made up out of old pieces by Willement at Dean
Goodenough's restoration, and its colour almost completely spoilt by
modern insertions. The harm, however, is not irreparable, for the
figures are almost entirely genuine, and the bad effect is mainly due
to Willement's blue background. A careful examination would easily
separate the new from the old, and it would be quite easy at the
present day to remove the bad work and replace it by glass that would
carry out the old harmony of colour. The lower lights are filled with
two tiers of figures in canopies, David and other patriarchs in the
upper tier, and the following well-chosen series in the lower:--The
Madonna in the midst, on her right the Serpent and Eve, on her left
the Brazen Serpent and Moses. The upper lights of this window contain
angels bearing the instruments of the Passion, which are unspoilt, as
are also the busts of patriarchs in the north-east window, and of
bishops in that on the south-east. Three of the topmost lights contain
emblems of the Evangelists, the fourth is lost. One inscription
remains, _Ista capella constructa est_ ... but the date is gone.
A tall and light monument stands between the Lady Chapel and St.
Catherine's; its crocketed finials, filled with tracery, rise almost
to the ceiling. The canopy is open at the sides and western end, but
the eastern end forms a niche; this part has been restored in colour
and gilding, it is powdered with _fleurs-de-lys,_ and bears a shield
containing the _Agnus Dei_. No other part shows any trace of colour.
The base is much higher than that of an ordinary tomb, and the canopy
seems to have been somewhat altered at Ferrey's restoration.
The spot where the altar of St. Catherine and All Virgins stood is now
"Sacred to the memory of John Phelips Of Montacute in this county
esquire. Descended from a line of ancestors, Whose names for two
centuries and a half abound in the annals of the county, He succeeded
at an early age to the paternal estates, And sustained the wonted
hospitality of his house. He soon became a most active and intelligent
magistrate," etc., etc.
THE CHAPTER-HOUSE STAIRCASE is entered by the doorway in the eastern
aisle of the north transept. There are few things in English
architecture that can be compared with it for strange impressive
beauty; the staircase goes upward for eighteen steps and then part of
it sweeps off to the chapter-house on the right, while the other part
goes on and up till it reaches the chain-bridge; thus the steps lie,
worn here and there by the tread of many feet, like fallen leaves, the
last of them lost in the brighter light of the bridge. Here one is
still almost within the cathedral, and yet the carts are passing
underneath, and their rattle mixes with the sound of the organ within.
The date of the staircase is clearly somewhere between that of the
chapter-house and that of the church itself. It is later than the
church, for it is built up against the transept buttresses, and it
contains some of the best examples of simple geometrical tracery,
while there are nothing but lancet windows in the church of Reginald
and Jocelin. But the simple geometrical tracery of its two four-light
windows prove that it was finished before the chapter-house was begun.
The arches of these windows are rampant, to follow the level of the
stairs; their beautiful circular tracery is massive, deeply-moulded,
and filled with remnants of rich glass; their shafts of blue lias have
naturalistic capitals which are in striking contrast both to the Early
English carving in the church and the full Decorated of the
chapter-house itself. Below the windows is a stone bench rising in
steps with a foot-pace of similar construction; this arrangement adds
much to the effect of the staircase, though it is marred by a modern
hand-rail.
Before the Chain Gate was made, the vestibule ended with a graceful
window of four lights similar to those at the side. The upper part of
the window remains, but the lower part is occupied by a Perpendicular
doorway, and the whole now forms a screen which, by breaking the
light, adds considerably to the charm of the staircase. Through this
doorway, where they are cut away to allow the door to open, the steps
continue for two stages, but in a narrower flight. Here the windows
are Perpendicular, and the vaulted ceiling has given place to a wooden
roof, for this is the Chain Gate, as light and pretty within as
without. It was only an after-thought, a matter of convenience, thus
to connect the chapter-house with the Vicars' Close, and the screen
that now breaks the light had for a century and a half been the
outside window, just as the blocked window of the transept had been
the outer light for the fifty years before the staircase itself was
thought of. It was just a practical matter-of-fact device; but what
magnificent utilitarianism, what an inspired after-thought!
[Illustration: Steps Of Chapter-house Vestibule And Passage Over Chain
Gate.]
The main gallery of the Chain Gate is shut off by a door which, if it
were kept open, would make the prospect even more beautiful than it
is. Two corbels which support the vaulting-shafts of the lower
staircase should be noticed; they both represent figures thrusting
their staves into the mouth of a dragon, but that on the east (wearing
a hood and a leathern girdle round his surcoat) is as vigorous in
action as the figure on the west side is feeble. A small barred
opening in the top of the east wall lights a curious little chamber,
which is reached from the staircase that leads to the roof.
THE CHAPTER-HOUSE is entered by a double-arched doorway, the small
vault between the arches having an odd boss composed of four bearded
heads. There are marks in the wall which lead one to think that the
doors were hung in a wooden screen under this vault. The old doors are
now used in the house of the Principal of the College, where they were
identified by Canon Church. They have little slits in them, through
which those in the chapter-house could speak with those without, who
no doubt waited for admittance on the stepped stone bench of the
staircase. Grooves in the two inner shafts of the doorway seem to have
been made for the insertion of some light screen, by which the
entrance was divided into two passages for ingress and egress. The
absence of doors certainly adds to the rather cold unfurnished
appearance of the chapter-house in its present condition.
[Illustration: Chapter-House--Doorway.]
The room itself ("a glorious development of window and vault" it has
been called) is one of the best examples of that type of chapter-house
which belongs mainly to the thirteenth century, and is a peculiar
glory of English architecture. Of octagonal plan, its vaulting ribs
branch out from sixteen Purbeck shafts which cluster round the central
pillar, typifying the diocesan church with all its members gathered
round its common father, the bishop. Each of the eight sides of the
room is occupied by a window of four lights, with graceful tracery of
an advanced geometrical type. These windows, which are among the
finest examples of the period, have no shafts, but their arch
mouldings are enriched with a continuous series of the ball-flower
ornament. Most of the old glass, in which ruby and white are the
predominant colours, remains in the upper lights.
[Illustration: Chapter-House--Interior.]
Under the windows runs an arcade which forms fifty-one stalls,
separated into groups of seven by the blue lias vaulting-shafts at the
angles, but in the side which is occupied by the doorway there are
only two stalls, one on either side of the entrance. Two rows of stone
benches are under the stalls, and there is a bench of Purbeck round
the base of the central pier. The arcade strikes one as too shallow:
its canopies, which rest on blue lias shafts, are ornamented with
feathering, crockets, finials, and an interesting series of small
heads. Some of the heads wear crowns, mitres, hoods, and square caps;
others are grotesque, though I cannot detect the "jesters" to which
some writers refer. Some of the heads have the same formal twist in
the hair as those of the large corbels in the nave (p. 81). The heads
on the side opposite the door are all (with the exception of one
modern head in plaster) covered with the early form of papal tiara, a
conical hat with a crown round its rim. On this side, in the middle
stall, is the bishop's seat, and here are traces of colour; the little
heads are still pretty with pink cheeks and painted eyes and hair, and
above the canopy the saltire of St. Andrew is discernible.
Thus the bishop still retained, at least in theory, the head-ship of
the chapter. The dean sat on one side of him, the precentor on the
other, and the rest in due order from the archdeacons and officers
down to those in minor orders. Even the boys of the school were
admitted to part of the meetings, and they stood on the floor round a
desk which was in front of the chief pastor. "There every morning,"
says Canon Church (_Chapters in Hist, of Wells_, p. 333), "after the
prayers of the third hour and the morning mass, the chapter of the
whole body was held for the daily lection and commemoration of
brethren departed, for maintaining discipline, hearing complaints,
passing judgment, inflicting punishment; for ordering the services of
the day and of the week--for sitting in council and drawing up
statutes."
Beautiful as is the general effect of the chapter-house, it must be
admitted that its detail is inferior to that of the staircase, which
is just one stage earlier in the development of architecture. Nor can
its capitals be compared for a moment with those in the nave; the
lighter form of structure doubtless calls for a lighter cap, but these
are distinctly untidy in their decoration. The crockets are very near
having that wholesale look which has caused nineteenth-century
architects to make so much of this easily debased ornament. The
arrangement, too, by which the fine doorway rises into a window of
unmodified pattern seems a rather awkward compromise, especially as
the line of the staircase roof cuts slantwise across the lights. One
cannot help thinking that an earlier architect would have departed
from his uniform pattern at this point, and have inserted a window or
arcade better adapted to the position, with the addition, perhaps, of
sculpture in the vacant space.
Between the roof and the vault there is a curious chamber which
reminds one of the crater of a volcano, and the impression is
increased by the sponge-like stone, which has some resemblance to
tufa. The open arcade under the roof has served to keep the woodwork
in remarkably sound condition.
[Illustration: Chapter-House--Vault.]
THE UNDERCROFT.--Much of the external beauty of the chapter-house, as
well as the charm of its staircase, is due to its unusual height above
the ground. It rests upon a vaulted chamber or undercroft, which is
popularly called the crypt, though that term is not very accurate, as
the chamber is not sunk underground, but stands almost on a level with
the floor of the church. The innumerable springs in the soil of Wells
do not, indeed, admit of a subterranean building. The undercroft was
finished before the chapter-house staircase was begun; perhaps its
walls were built at the end of Jocelin's episcopate; at any rate it
was finished by 1286, and represents the last development of the Early
English style. It was used as the treasury, where the vestments,
ornaments, registers, and other precious things, both of the bishop
and chapter, were kept, and, to increase the security of its massive
walls, the sacristan had to sleep within them every night.
[Illustration: Chapter-House--Undercroft.]
It is reached by a dimly-lit, impressive passage, which is entered
from the north choir aisle through a doorway with deeply-sunk
mouldings and carved capitals. Two heads, slanting inwards in a rather
awkward manner, support the curious pediment-shaped canopy over the
doorway. At the commencement of this fine passage, just within the
doorway, is a small vault supported on extremely odd corbels, as if
the mason had taken advantage of the obscurity to wanton with his
craft. One is a large head with enormous cheeks, apparently suffering
from acute neuralgia; a handkerchief, under which a few
comically-stiff curls escape, covers the head and is tied under the
chin; another represents two dragons biting each other, with a head
upside down beneath them; another, which reminds one of the worst
eccentricities of modern crockery, is formed by a hand holding a
foliated capital. I suppose that the head with swollen cheeks is
really another testimony to St. William Bytton's power over the
toothache. The undercroft itself was finished before 1286, perhaps
some time before; but the more advanced sculpture of the passage looks
as if that part were built in the "toothache" period--that is to say,
some ten years or so after Bytton's death in 1274.
[Illustration: Chapter-House--Undercroft.]
Certainly the bosses of the vault in the passage beyond the doorway
are of a character that suggests the transition to Decorated which was
in progress at this time. They are elaborate, and, with one exception,
through-carved. The first from the door represents a head, the next an
_Agnus Dei_, the next two grotesque heads joined together, then
apparently the Serpent tempting Eve, then an ox, dragons, two small
grinning heads, with animals apparently biting them on one side. The
corbels are carved into heads, some crowned, others reversed with the
shaft in their mouths. On the right-hand side, as one enters the
undercroft, a pretty stone lantern projects from the wall; of the
little mullions which form its face, one is set far enough from the
wall to admit of the insertion of a lamp.
Two heavy wooden doors at the entrance leave no doubt as to the
purpose for which the undercroft was built. The outer door is the most
massive; it is studded with nails, and has two great bolts and a huge
lock: on the outer side a kind of escutcheon is formed round the
keyhole by a heart-shaped piece of iron, surmounted by a cross; on the
same side there is an iron bar, and the hook to hold it across the
doorway. A deep hole has been worn in the pavement by the feet of
those who pulled open the door. The inner door is lighter, and
ornamented with beautiful elaborate hinges: on this side are deep
sockets in the wall, into which the inner bars were run.
In the undercroft itself the walls are impregnably thick, the windows
narrow, with wide splays. The vaulting, somewhat later in style than
the walls, is an admirable piece of construction, well-fitted to bear
the weight of the lofty chamber above. It is also remarkable,
Professor Willis points out, for the way in which the arches are
disposed without the introduction of ribs. From the round shafts which
are grouped about the octagonal pier in the centre spring the vaulting
ribs, the extremities of which rest upon eight round pillars; and
another set of vaulting ribs spans the space between these pillars and
the eight walls, where they rest upon twelve shafts between the lancet
windows. Could anything be more simple and secure in construction, and
more varied in effect?
Here, on one of the capitals and on a moulding near the door, we meet
with the dog-tooth moulding usually so characteristic of the Early
English style. The piscina in the doorway should be noticed for its
carving of a dog gnawing a bone.
[Illustration: Section Of Chapter-house.]
A large aumbry is formed by a recess in the thickness of the wall. The
parapeted structure opposite is a modern coal-hole, for which some
other place might surely be found. There are several stone coffins in
the undercroft, and a good many fragments of carved stone, some of
which are very fine. Here also is a cope-chest of the usual shape,
which allows the copes to be put away with only one fold. Near it
there is a large oblong chest covered with iron bands. An iron door
which is also kept here is thus described by Mr H. Longden
(_Archaeological Journal_, 1890, p. 132): "It is made of slabs of iron
nailed to an oak frame-work, and liberally braced across with hinges
and diagonal cross-straps, stiffening the door in the best way known
at the time. This is not an iron-plated door, but an iron door; it is,
in fact, a 'safe' door of the time, and is an uncommon instance. It
must be remembered that the slabs of which this door is formed were
all beaten out of lumps of iron, and that iron was not then made, as
now, in plates, bars, or rods, but ... The lump of iron had to be
heated and drawn out on the anvil at a great expenditure of time and
labour. Much of the charm of old work arises from the irregularity of
the shapes, never quite round, or square, or flat, which the iron
took, and we miss this in the neat and mechanically-finished work of
the present time."