the arms, of the choir transepts, more important than usual. Indeed,
the exquisitely proportioned and balanced symmetry of every portion,
as of the whole, which almost places Salisbury among classic
buildings, is as marked in its ground plan as in any part of the
building. As an appreciative student of the building has written:
"This is the great beauty of Salisbury, the composition of its mighty
body as a whole. So finely proportioned and arranged are its square
masses of different heights and sizes, so splendid are the broad
effects of light and shadow they produce, so appropriate is the slant
of the roof lines, and so nicely placed and gracefully shaped are the
simple windows, that for once we can give no thought of regret either
to the circling apses of continental lands or the rich traceries and
surface carvings and figures--sculptures of later generations. The
whole effect is in the strictest sense architectural. Few large
buildings teach so clearly the great lesson that beauty in a building
depends first of all upon composition, not decoration; upon masses,
not details; upon the use and shaping, not the ornamentation of
features; and very few show half so plainly that mediaeval architects
could realize this fact. We are too apt to think that Gothic art
cannot be individual without being eccentric, or interesting without
being heterogeneous ... but Salisbury is both grand and lovely, and
yet it is quiet, rational, and all of a piece, clear and smooth, and
refined to the point of utmost purity. No building in the world is
more logical, more lucid in expression, more restful to the mind and
eye."[7]
[Illustration: THE NAVE, LOOKING WEST.
_From a Photograph by Messrs. Poulton._]
The number of its pillars, windows, and doorways is said to equal the
hours, days, and months of the year; hence the local rhyme,
attributed, on the authority of Godwin, to a certain Daniel Rogers:
"As many days as in one year there be,
So many windows in this church we see;
As many marble pillars here appear
As there are hours throughout the fleeting year;
As many gates as moons one year does view--
Strange tale to tell! yet not more strange than true."
Fuller, speaking of these, by a curious lapse falls into the vulgar
error of believing Purbeck marble to be an artificial product melted
and poured into moulds, says: "The cathedral is paramount of its kind,
wherein the doors and chapels equal the months, the windows the days,
the pillars and pillarets of fusile marble (an ancient art now
shrewdly suspected to be lost) the hours of the year; so that all
Europe affords not such an almanac of architecture. Once walking in
this church (whereof then I was prebendary) I met a countryman
wondering at the structure thereof. 'I once,' said he to me, 'admired
that there could be a church that should have so many pillars as there
be hours in the year, and now I admire more, that there should be so
many hours in the year as I see pillars in this church.'"
=The Nave.=--The first glimpse as we enter by the west door is
undoubtedly impressive, notwithstanding the absence of colour and the
lack of mystery for which the complete vista obtained at such a cruel
cost by Wyatt is insufficient compensation. The whole scheme of
decoration in its pristine state must have been extremely beautiful.
"If you can imagine it with the walls and piers exhibiting strong
contrasts of colour in the dark and polished Purbeck shafts and the
lighter freestones, the arches picked out with colours, the groining
elaborately decorated, and the whole lighted by brilliantly painted
windows with a preponderance of dark blue and ruby, together with a
flood of white light showing through the lancet of the centre, we may
be allowed a doubt whether Tintern or York could have compared with
it." Add to this picture the movable hangings and decorations of its
many altars, and we cannot honestly attribute the coldness of the
present effect to any fault in the original design. Elsewhere this
austerity of monochrome is modified to a great extent by the variety
(anachronisms though they be) of later architectural insertions.
Salisbury, through the very purity of its design, especially suffers
from its translation from chromatic harmony to monotone, for although
possibly the architectural details are thereby rendered more apparent,
yet the exaggeration of what is after all but the skeleton of the
building, destroys the effect of the whole as its architect imagined
it.
Clustered columns of unpolished Purbeck marble on a quatrefoil plan,
with smaller detached shafts of lustrous marble at the cardinal
points, support, on either side, the ten great arches of the first
story of the nave. These polished shafts are generally in two pieces,
with a brass ring covering the joint; Francis Price discusses, at
great length, this constant feature of the whole building, and points
out, that although most of the shafts were probably not in place until
after the masonry was fairly set, yet frequently subsequent settlement
has crushed them; although, in the nave, the main piers in small
blocks laid according to the natural bed of the stone, are still
perfectly sound. The large arches are gracefully moulded with masses
of carved foliage at the intersections.
[Illustration: THE NAVE--SOUTH SIDE.]
In the nave of this cathedral we have a very uncommon feature in the
connected base of the main columns, which was doubtless introduced to
aid in distributing the weight over a larger surface, and so to
overcome the treacherous character of the foundation.
The triforium, which, from its style, naturally suggests comparison
with Westminster, and the Angel Choir of Lincoln, is simple, but
extremely beautiful. Each of its rather flat-pointed arches, equalling
in span that of the main arch below, is subdivided into pairs, which
again each inclose two smaller ones. These are decorated with trefoils
and quatrefoils, alternately with cinquefoils and octofoils.
Immediately above the carving, at the intersection of the main arches,
is a corbelled head, from which rises a triple vaulting-shaft with
foliated capitals, on a line with the base of the clerestory. This
upper story has, in each bay of the vaulting, simple lancet windows
grouped in threes. The arches here, as in almost every instance
throughout the building, are supported by Purbeck marble shafts. The
nave aisles are lighted by double lancet-windows in each bay. The most
noticeable feature of these aisles is the stone bench which extends
the whole length of the building on both the north and south sides.
[Illustration: NORTH AISLE.]
The west wall is panelled in three main arches, with an upper story
reaching to the height of the triforium base, and containing an arcade
of four arches, subdivided each into two smaller trefoiled ones, with
cinquefoil heads. Above these is the triplet lancet of the great west
window. The effect of the nave looking west is clearly shown in the
photograph here reproduced.
Of the chapels and altars once existing we have records in various
documents. In the "Sarum Processional" twelve altars are mentioned,
dedicated respectively to SS. Andrew, Nicholas, John the Baptist,
Margaret, Mary Magdalene, Laurence, Michael, Martin, Catherine,
Edward, Edmund the King, and Edmund, Archbishop of Canterbury. The
sites of these so far as they can be traced appears to have been: St.
Catherine and St. Martin in the north choir transept, St. Nicholas and
St. Mary Magdalene in the south, and St. Edmund of Canterbury and St.
Margaret respectively in the north and south great transepts.
Throughout the nave it is evident that the first plans were rigidly
obeyed, although the severity of the early years of the style had
become much modified before the work was finished. The absence of
ornate decoration, the simplicity of the mouldings, and the
plate-tracery of the triforium all indicate the first period of "Early
English."
[Illustration: NAVE TRANSEPT.]
The dimensions of the nave are: 229 feet 6 inches long, 82 feet wide,
and 81 feet high. The aisles are 17 feet 6 inches wide, and 39 feet 9
inches high.
=The Nave Transepts= are in three stories, with eastern aisles
divided into three bays. The screens inclosing chapels in these were
demolished by Wyatt. Above the entrances to the great transepts are
arches inserted by Bishop Beauchamp (1450-1481) to withstand the side
thrust of the great tower. These are of perpendicular work, with their
spandrils panelled and their cornices battlemented, as shown in the
engraving. Canterbury and Wells, in a far more prominent fashion, have
similar features; in this instance the addition appears to have
succeeded in its purpose to insure the stability of the tower. In the
choir transepts these additional features take the form of an inverted
arch, above the main arch. The vaulting of the tower roof is also in
the perpendicular style and shows excellent groined work. Both Sir
Christopher Wren and Francis Price, call its four main pillars the
legs of the tower.
Of the transept Fuller says: "The cross aisle of this church is the
most beautiful and lightsome of any I have yet beheld. The spire
steeple (not founded on the ground, but for the main supported by four
pillars,) is of great height and greater workmanship. I have been
credibly informed that some foreign artists beholding this building
brake forth into tears, which some imputed to their admiration (though
I see not how wondering could cause weeping): others to their envy,
grieving that they had not the like in their own land."
=Monuments in the Nave.=[8]--The peculiar arrangements of the ancient
monuments in two long rows on the continuous plinth that connects the
bases of the pillars on each side of the nave is another of Wyatt's
freaks during his terrible innovations in 1789. Not only did he sever
the historical associations of centuries by these arbitrary removals,
but paid so little attention to consistency that portions of monuments
belonging to entirely different periods were combined with curious
results, and remains transferred to other "receptacles" than those
designed for them. It is true that the effect of the present
arrangement is not entirely bad, but it was not worth achieving at
such a cost.
The first monument on the south side as we enter by the great west
door, is in memory of Thomas Lord Wyndham of Finglass, Lord Chancellor
of Ireland, (1) who died in 1745; the marble figure of Hibernia which
surmounts it is by Rysbrack. At the western base of the first south
pillar is a Purbeck marble slab, (2) coffin-shaped, probably the
oldest monument in the building. This is usually assigned to Bishop
Herman, whose tomb it is supposed to have covered in Old Sarum; but no
evidence exists to support this theory. In the first place his
original burial-place is entirely unknown, and William de Wanda, who
chronicles minutely the removal of the bodies of other bishops from
the old cathedral, does not even mention Herman's name.
[Illustration]
The next (3) is an effigy of a bishop in full pontificals, also
believed to have been originally at Old Sarum. The carving is rich,
and the design a fine example of the early Norman style. The chasuble
is decorated with stars, and the dalmatic has a rich border.
Elaborately carved foliage, with birds, frames the figure, which has
its right hand raised in the attitude of benediction, and grasps a
pastoral staff in the left. It is usually believed that it
commemorates Bishop Jocelin, who died in 1184, and was probably
removed from Old Sarum at the translation of the bodies of the three
bishops. The head of the effigy is evidently a much later restoration,
probably, from the style of the richly ornamented mitre, about the
time of Henry III. or Edward I. As the face is cleanly shaven, while
the seal of Bishop Jocelin depicts him as bearded, some antiquaries
hold this monument to belong to Bishop Roger, and assign to Bishop
Jocelin the one formerly attributed to Bishop Herman. If, however,
differences of opinion exist concerning the identity of these two
effigies, they are as nothing compared to the uncertainty regarding
the next, (4) which represents a bishop holding a pastoral staff. Down
the front of this cope are the words, "Affer opem devenies in idem."
Hatcher and Duke believe that it represents Bishop Jocelin. Britton,
Gough and Planche, prefer to think that it commemorates Bishop Roger.
Its inscription on the edge of the slab runs:
"Flent hodie Salesberie quia decidit ensis
Justitie, pater ecclesiae Salisberiensis
Dum viguit, miseros aluit, fastusque potentum
Non timuit, sed clava fuit terrorque nocentum
De Ducibus, de nobilibus primordia duxit
Principibus, propeque tibi gemma reluxit."
A version given in the Wilts Archeo. Mag. vol. xvii. runs: "They mourn
to-day at Salesberie because there has fallen the sword of justice,
the Father of the Church of Salesberie. While he lived he sustained
the oppressed and wretched, and feared not the arrogance of the
powerful, but himself was the scourge (literally, the club) and terror
of the guilty. He traced his ancestry from dukes and noble princes,
who shone near thee as a precious gem." Another item of indirect
evidence supplied by this inscription is worth noting, namely, the "l"
in Sa_l_isberie. The period when this letter superseded the "r" was
about the time of Jocelin's death. Only a single coin of Stephen's has
the "l."
To Bishop Roger reference is made on page 100, and it is evident that
even the fulsome praise of an epitaph would hardly go out of its way
to describe him as "sprung from dukes and noble princes." Planche,
despite this objection, does not deem it convincing, as poor priests
were often of noble lineage. If, however, we assume it represents
Bishop Jocelin, one of the house of Bohun, a great Norman family, and
compare the effigy with the seal of that bishop, the later theory that
deprives Bishop Roger of this much discussed monument will probably be
chosen as the most acceptable. In a record at least three centuries
old his burial-place is said to be near the chapel of St. Stephen; and
in a plan of the Cathedral, dated 1773, and in Price's account, 1774,
a plain slab with a cross upon it, in a shallow recess of the wall
east of the north aisle, is assigned to Bishop Roger.
But this and the other disputed monuments are undoubtedly genuine
memorials of the earliest bishops, and not merely interesting for that
reason, but as (with the exception of two slabs dated 1086 and 1172 in
Westminster Abbey) the earliest examples of their class in England.
Although the question of their identity of the individuals they
commemorate were best left to those few who are peculiarly concerned
with the history of the period that includes them.
Near these effigies is a slab with faint traces of an incised figure,
which may possibly have represented an abbot or prior. It can hardly
be intended for a bishop, as no mitre can be traced, and the staff is
held in the right hand. The monument (5) on the plinth under the next
arch is also beyond identification.
Next in order comes the altar tomb (6) which now contains the remains
of Bishop Beauchamp, who died in 1481. When this was removed from the
aisle at the north end of the great transept it was empty, and showed
no trace of its original dedication. During the wanton demolition of
the Beauchamp chantry, where, "in marble tumbes," with his father and
mother on either hand, the remains of Bishop Beauchamp had been
unmolested for over three hundred years, his own tomb was "mislaid"
and never recovered. It is pleasant to note that even the apologists
for Wyatt felt this incident was beyond their sympathy. Dodsworth
naively remarks, "After this the greatest possible care was taken that
nothing of the kind should again occur," and so far as we know, not
even a prior was subsequently lost. Of this bishop much is said
elsewhere in this book, and his beautiful chantry described on page
90.
The elaborate effigy (7) beneath the next arch represents Robert Lord
Hungerford clad in a superb suit of fifteenth century plate armour,
with the collar of SS. round his neck, and with "his hair polled" in
the fashion of Henry V. A superbly decorated sword and dagger hang
from his jewelled girdle at his side, while his feet rest upon a dog
wearing a rich collar. This monument was placed originally between the
Lady Chapel and the (Hungerford) chantry founded by Margaret, his
widow. By his will Lord Hungerford directed that his body should be
interred before the altar of St. Osmund. The tomb beneath the effigy
is made up from portions of the chapel.
The monument known as Lord Stourton's (8), removed from the east end
of the Cathedral, is next in order. Its three apertures on each side
are said to be emblematic of the six sources of the river Stour, which
rises at Storrhead, the ancient family seat, from whence the name is
derived. The whole shape of the tomb is so unusual that in spite of
the theory that it represents the six sources of the Stour, the
curious arched openings appear as if pierced to exhibit something
behind them. Yet this could not have been an effigy, for the interior
is divided by a solid partition of stone. The pillars which stood
between the arches are gone. Lord Stourton, to whom it is attributed,
was hanged with a silken cord on March 6th, 1556, in the Salisbury
market-place. The tragedy is too long to give in detail, as it is
told in the country histories and elsewhere, here a brief summary must
suffice:--When his mother became a widow Lord Stourton attempted to
induce her to sign a bond promising that she would never re-marry. The
family agents, a father and son named Hartgill, sided with Lady
Stourton and seemed to have influenced her in declining to assent to
the scheme. The Hartgills after much physical maltreatment at the
hands of Lord Stourton's mercenaries, took legal action against him,
with the result that he was fined and imprisoned for awhile in the
Fleet. When let out on parole he invited the Hartgills to meet him
that he might pay them the fine. Upon their appearance at Kilmington
Churchyard, the appointed place, they were seized by armed men,
carried away and murdered in cold blood in full sight of Lord Stourton
himself the same night. For this he was committed to the Tower, tried
at Westminster and hanged with four of his men at Salisbury. So late
as 1775 a wire twisted into a noose was suspended above his tomb.
The mutilated effigy (9) of Bishop de la Wyle (died 1271) rests on a
base made up of portions of later work. The last monument on this side
(10) is of the famous William Longespee, 1st Earl of Salisbury, the
natural son of Henry II. by Fair Rosamond. This effigy still shows
traces of the gorgeous ornament in gold and colours with which it was
originally decorated. Westmacott, the sculptor, says: "The manly,
warrior character of the figure is particularly striking even in its
recumbent attitude, while the turn of the head, and the graceful flow
of lines in the right hand and arm, with the natural heavy fall of the
chain armour at the side, exhibit a feeling of art that would not do
discredit to a very advanced school." The figure is clad in mail
armour, which covers the mouth in a peculiar fashion, and wears a
surcoat falling in simple folds, almost Greek in feeling, that are
somewhat curious in connection with the rich mediaeval luxuriance of
the surface ornament. On his shield are borne six heraldic leopards or
lions. The slab and effigy are stone, but the base is of wood
encircled by an arcade of trefoiled arches. One of its compartments
protected with glass yet shows a piece of the beautiful diaper work,
in silver overlaid on white linen, remains of the rich colourings of
two successive periods are present on the effigy itself. (See p. 94.)
Crossing the nave, and following the northern base of the pillars, we
find a very beautiful alabaster monument (11), with the effigy of Sir
John Cheyney (died 1509) clad in military garb, and wearing the collar
of SS. with the portcullis badge of Henry VII. suspended therefrom.
Sir John Cheyney was the standard-bearer of Henry of Richmond at
Bosworth Field. To quote from Hall's "Chronicle"--"King Richard set on
so sharply at the first brount that he ouerthrew th'erle's standard
and slew Sir William Brandon, his standard-bearer, and matched hand to
hand with John Cheynye, a man of great strength, who would have
resisted him, and the said John was by him manfully ouerthrowen."
Wyatt, in his ghoulish explorations exhumed Sir John's bones, and
confirmed the legend of his gigantic stature; the thigh-bone was found
to be twenty-one inches in length, four inches more than the standard
average. His original tomb was destroyed with the rest of the
Beauchamp chapel, and his remains now lie beneath this effigy. Under
the next arch to the westward are two tombs (12,13) deprived of the
brasses they once bore, which represented Walter, Lord Hungerford, and
his first wife, Catherine Peverell. The famous iron chapel has been
removed to the choir by their descendant, the Earl of Radnor, who
converted the monument into a family pew.
The plain altar tomb of St. Osmund, that, moved hither by Wyatt, stood
until 1878 below the next arch of the nave; is now replaced in the
Lady Chapel on its former site.
The effigy of Sir John de Montacute (14) (died 1389) clad in mail and
chain armour, is, according to Meyrick, "a good specimen of highly
ornamented gauntlets, of a contrivance for the easier bending of the
body at the bottom of the breastplate, and of the elegant manner of
twisting the hanging sword belt, pendant from the military girdle,
round the upper part of the sword." The head of the figure reposes on
a helmet, a lion couches at his feet. Armorial bearings appear on
shields at the sides of the tomb. (See p. 79.)
Then we come to Chancellor Geoffrey's tomb (15), and the next (16) has
not been identified. The larger effigy (17) on the last portion of the
northern plinth is of William Longespee, fourth Earl of Salisbury; the
figure wears chain armour, and lies with its legs crossed and hands
grasped upon his sword. He was twice a Crusader, in 1240-1242, and in
1249, when he served with St. Louis of France at Damietta, he fell in
battle near Cairo in 1250, and was buried in the church of the Holy
Cross near Acre. The night he was killed, according to Matthew Paris,
his mother, the Countess Ela, saw in a vision "the heavens opened, and
her son armed at all points, with the six lioncels on his shield,
received in triumph by a company of angels." Many strange marvels were
reported to have been worked by his bones.
=The Boy Bishop.=--Near this monument is the one (18) known as the
"Boy Bishop." Hidden for a long time underneath some seats near the
pulpit, it was brought to light in 1680, and moved to its present
position. At first it was covered with a wooden box; for which later
on, owing to the great curiosity shown by the public, the strong iron
grating which now protects it was substituted. (See p. 98.)