An Anglo-Saxon man may get down to first principles in Canterbury. He
reaches the dividing point in England between the old faith of Pagans and
the new religion of Jesus the Christ. The founder of the new gospel had
been dead five hundred years when England accepted Him, and acceptance
came only after the Saxon King Ethelbert had married Bertha, daughter of a
Frankish prince. Here in Canterbury Ethelbert held his court. Bertha, like
her father, was a Christian. After her marriage, Bertha herself for some
years held Christian services here alone in little St. Martin's Church,
but Ethelbert still loved his idols; indeed, for many years, he continued
to worship Odin and Thor. St. Patrick had been in Ireland a full century
before this.
Bertha as a Christian stood almost alone in Saxon England, but her
persistence at last so wrought upon Ethelbert that he wrote a letter to
Pope Gregory the Great, asking that a missionary be sent to England. This
was in the sixth century. St. Augustine and forty monks were dispatched by
Gregory to the English shore. To-day I have seen the church where this
great missionary preached. It still contains the font from which he
baptized his many English converts. In this church King Ethelbert himself
embraced Christianity, and so it was that the union of Church and State
was here effected. Canterbury then became the mother of the Church of
England--a title she has retained through all succeeding years.
Few towns in England can interest an educated man more. Its foundation
dates from years before the Christian era--how long before no man knows.
It is rich in history, secular as well as ecclesiastical. The Black
Prince, beloved and admired as few princes ever were, had a strong
attachment for it, and here lies buried. Opposite his tomb sleeps Henry
IV, the king who dethroned Richard II, son of this same Black Prince.
Thomas à Becket, and those marvelous pilgrimages that followed his murder
for three hundred years, have given it lasting renown. The "father of
English poetry" has still further immortalized it in his "Tales." Indeed,
there are few towns possessing so many claims on the attention of the
churchman, the antiquarian, and the man of letters.
One of the densest fogs I ever knew settled upon the ancient town the
morning after my arrival. It was impossible to see clearly across streets.
This fog increased the gloom which long ago came over these ancient
monuments and seemed to add something unreal to the air of solemn
greatness that appeared in every street and corner. Chance threw me into
Mercury Lane. Here at once was historic ground. On a corner of the lane
stands the very old inn that is mentioned by Chaucer as the resort of the
pilgrims whose deeds he has celebrated. It is now used by a linen-draper.
The original vaulted cellars and overhanging upper stories still remain.
Pressing onward, I soon reached a Gothic gateway, handsomely carved, but
sadly old and decayed. It led into the grass-covered cathedral yard.
Through the thick fog could now be distinguished some of the lofty
outlines of the majestic cathedral. Its central tower, which is among the
best specimens of the pointed style in England, could be seen faintly as
it rose ponderously into the clouded air. No picture, no figures, no mere
letter, can place before the reader's mind this enormous edifice. Its
total length is 520 feet--Westminster Abbey is more than 100 feet less. As
we enter, the immensity of it grows. It is a beautiful theory that these
great Gothic churches, as outgrowths of the spirit of Christianity, in
their largeness and in the forms of their windows and aisles, were meant
to represent the universality and lofty ideals of the Christian faith.
Pagans worshiped largely in family temples which none but the rich could
build. The new faith opened its temples to all men, and it built churches
large enough for all classes and conditions to enter and find room.
Two styles of architecture are shown in the interior of Canterbury, Norman
and Early Gothic. In the former style are the transept, choir and Becket
chapel, each with its noble series of lofty columns and arches. Beneath
the choir and chapel is a crypt, also Norman and the oldest part of the
cathedral, some of it undoubtedly dating from St. Augustine's time. He is
known to have built a church soon after his arrival upon ground formerly
occupied by Christians in the Roman army, and this is believed to be its
site. The crypt, in a splendid state of preservation, extends under the
entire Norman portion of the building.
When the Gothic style came into vogue, succeeding the Norman, the
remainder of the present edifice was added. Either part--Norman or
Gothic--would in itself make a large church. One will meet few grander
naves anywhere than this Gothic nave in Canterbury, formed of white stone
and wonderfully symmetrical in all its outlines. A screen, richly wrought,
divides the Norman from the Gothic part. Two flights of stone steps lead
from one to the other. It will not be easy to forget the impression made
that dark December morning when I entered the little doorway of this
cathedral and first walked down its long, gray, lofty nave to this flight
of steps. The chanting in the choir of the morning service which echoed
throughout the vast edifice gave profound solemnity to a scene that can
never pass from recollection.
When the service had closed, an intelligent verger acted as my guide. New
chapels and aisles seemed to open in all directions. Before we had
completed the circuit, it seemed as if we were going through another
Westminster Abbey. In one cornear is the "Warrior's Chapel," crowded with
the tombs of knights whose effigies, in full armor, lie recumbent on
elaborate bases. Henry IV. and his second queen lie in the Becket Chapel
under an elegant canopy, between two immense Norman pillars. On the other
side, between two other pillars, lies the Black Prince, with recumbent
statue in full armor. Suspended above the canopy are his coat of mail and
the helmet and shield he wore at Cressy.
In the center of this chapel, and between these two monuments, formerly
stood Thomas à Becket's famous shrine. The chapel was added to the
cathedral for the express purpose of receiving his remains. At the height
of the pilgrimages, about 100,000 people are said to have visited it every
year. The steps that lead to it show how they were deeply worn by
pilgrims, who ascended in pairs on their knees. Where stood the shrine the
pavement has also been worn deeply down to the shape of the human knee by
pilgrims while in prayer. Each pilgrim brought an offering, and nothing
less than gold was accepted. Not alone the common people, but princes,
kings and great church dignitaries from foreign lands came with gifts.
Erasmus was here in 1510 and wrote of the Becket shrine that it "shone and
glittered with the rarest and most precious jewels of an extraordinary
largeness, some larger than the egg of a goose."
The brilliant duration of these pilgrimages came finally to a sudden end.
During the Reformation, Henry VIII. seized and demolished the shrine. The
treasure, filling two large chests, and which eight men could with
difficulty carry, was seized, and on the adjoining pavement the bones of
the saint were burned. Not a single relic of Becket now remains in
Canterbury. With no ordinary feeling does one stand amid the scene of this
most interesting and curious chapter in church history. Not far from the
shrine is the place where the murder of Becket was committed. You are
shown the actual stone that was stained with his blood. A piece of this
stone, about four inches square, was cut out of the pavement at the time
of the murder and sent to Rome, where it is still preserved. Among many
interesting tombs not already referred to are those of the great St.
Dunstan; of Admiral Rooke, the hero of Gibraltar; of Stephen Langton
(immortal with Magna Charta), and of Archbishop Pole, of Mary Tudor's
time, who died the same day as that queen, and thus made clear Elizabeth's
path to a restoration of Protestantism.
After the cathedral, the most interesting place in Canterbury is St.
Martin's Church. With few exceptions--including, perhaps, a very early and
well-preserved church in Ravenna--it is doubted if an older Christian
church now remains in Europe. There certainly is none that can claim more
interest for Englishmen and for descendants of Englishmen in the New
World. St. Martin's is somewhat removed from the town, where it stands
alone on a sloping knoll, and is very simple in form. The tower that rises
over the doorway is built of plain Roman brick and broken flint stones,
and has occasionally a piece of drest stone on corners. The tower is
square and rises about ten feet above the roof. Almost any mason could
have built this church. A luxuriant growth of ivy covers nearly all its
parts. Rude in outline and finish are all its parts, ivy has added to St.
Martin's the only beauty it could possibly claim.
The interior bears heavier marks of age than do the walls outside. The
chancel has walls built almost entirely of Roman brick, and the nave is
without columns. The old font--certainly one of the first constructed in
England--stands in the chancel. It was probably from this font that King
Ethelbert was baptized. Both chronicle and tradition say good Bertha was
buried here. A recess in the wall of the chancel contains an old stone
coffin, which is believed to contain the dust of England's first Christian
queen. Standing within this ancient structure, one feels that he has
reached the source for Anglo-Saxon people of this modern faith,
Christianity, and the civilization it has given to the world. A new race
of pilgrims, as numerous as those who went to Becket's shrine, might well
find as worthy an object of their gifts and their journeys in this
ivy-mantled relic of ancient days.
OLD YORK [Footnote: From "Gray Days and Gold." By arrangement with the
publishers, Moffat, Yard & Co. Copyright by William Winter, 1890.]