I do not remember any cathedral with so fine a site as this, rising up out
of the center of a beautiful green, extensive enough to show its full
proportions, relieved and insulated from all other patchwork and
impertinence of rusty edifices. It is of gray stone, and looks as perfect
as when just finished, and with the perfection, too, that could not have
come in less than six centuries of venerableness, with a view to which
these edifices seem to have been built. A new cathedral would lack the
last touch to its beauty and grandeur. It needs to be mellowed and
ripened, like some pictures; altho I suppose this awfulness of antiquity
was supplied, in the minds of the generation that built cathedrals, by the
sanctity which they attributed to them.
Salisbury Cathedral is far more beautiful than that of York, the exterior
of which was really disagreeable to my eye; but this mighty spire and
these multitudinous gray pinnacles and towers ascend toward heaven with a
kind of natural beauty, not as if man had contrived them. They might be
fancied to have grown up, just as the spires of a tuft of grass do, at the
same time that they have a law of propriety and regularity among
themselves. The tall spire is of such admirable proportion that it does
not seem gigantic; and, indeed, the effect of the whole edifice is of
beauty rather than weight and massiveness. Perhaps the bright, balmy
sunshine in which we saw it contributed to give it a tender glory, and to
soften a little its majesty.
When we went in, we heard the organ, the forenoon service being near
conclusion. If I had never seen the interior of York Cathedral, I should
have been quite satisfied, no doubt, with the spaciousness of this nave
and these side aisles, and the height of their arches, and the girth of
these pillars; but with that recollection in my mind they fell a little
short of grandeur. The interior is seen to disadvantage, and in a way the
builder never meant it to be seen; because there is little or no painted
glass, nor any such mystery as it makes, but only a colorless, common
daylight, revealing everything without remorse. There is a general light
hue, moreover, like that of whitewash, over the whole of the roof and
walls of the interior, pillar, monuments, and all; whereas, originally,
every pillar was polished, and the ceiling was ornamented in brilliant
colors, and the light came, many-hued, through the windows, on all this
elaborate beauty, in lieu of which there is nothing now but space.
Between the pillars that separate the nave from the side aisles there are
ancient tombs, most of which have recumbent statues on them. One of these
is Longsword, Earl of Salisbury, son of Fair Rosamond, in chain mail; and
there are many other warriors and bishops, and one cross-legged Crusader,
and on one tombstone a recumbent skeleton, which I have likewise seen in
two or three other cathedrals. The pavement of the aisles and nave is laid
in great part with flat tombstones, the inscriptions on which are half
obliterated, and on the walls, especially in the transepts, there are
tablets, among which I saw one to the poet Bowles, who was a canon of the
cathedral....
Between the nave and the choir, as usual, there is a screen that half
destroys the majesty of the building, by abridging the spectator of the
long vista which he might otherwise have of the whole interior at a
glance. We peeped through the barrier, and saw some elaborate monuments in
the chancel beyond; but the doors of the screen are kept locked, so that
the vergers may raise a revenue by showing strangers through the richest
part of the cathedral. By and by one of these vergers came through the
screen with a gentleman and lady whom he was taking around, and we joined
ourselves to the party. He showed us into the cloisters, which had long
been neglected and ruinous, until the time of Bishop Dennison, the last
prelate, who has been but a few years dead. This bishop has repaired and
restored the cloisters in faithful adherence to the original plan; and
they now form a most delightful walk about a pleasant and verdant
enclosure, in the center of which sleeps good Bishop Dennison, with a wife
on either side of him, all three beneath broad flat stones.
Most cloisters are darksome and grim; but these have a broad paved walk
beneath the vista of arches, and are light, airy, and cheerful; and from
one corner you can get the best possible view of the whole height and
beautiful proportion of the cathedral spire. On one side of this
cloistered walk seems to be the length of the nave of the cathedral. There
is a square of four such sides; and of places for meditation, grave, yet
not too somber, it seemed to me one of the best. While we stayed there, a
jackdaw was walking to and fro across the grassy enclosure, and haunting
around the good bishop's grave. He was clad in black, and looked like a
feathered ecclesiastic; but I know not whether it were Bishop Dennison's
ghost or that of some old monk.
On one side of the cloisters, and contiguous to the main body of the
cathedral, stands the chapterhouse. Bishop Dennison had it much at heart
to repair this part of the holy edifice; and, if I mistake not, did begin
the work; for it had been long ruinous, and in Cromwell's time his
dragoons stationed their horses there. Little progress, however, had been
made in the repairs when the bishop died; and it was decided to restore
the building in his honor, and by way of monument to him. The repairs are
now nearly completed; and the interior of this chapter-house gave me the
first idea, anywise adequate, of the splendor of these Gothic church
edifices. The roof is sustained by one great central pillar of polished
marble--small pillars clustered about a great central column, which rises
to the ceiling, and there gushes out with various beauty, that overflows
all the walls; as if the fluid idea had sprung out of that fountain, and
grown solid in what we see. The pavement is elaborately ornamented; the
ceiling is to be brilliantly gilded and painted, as it was of yore, and
the tracery and sculptures around the walls are to be faithfully renewed
from what remains of the original patterns.
EXETER [Footnote: From "Cathedral Days." By arrangement with, and by
permission of, the publishers, Little, Brown & Co. Copyright, 1887.]