CHAPTER I.

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[Illustration: CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL FROM THE SOUTH.]

THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH OF

CANTERBURY

A DESCRIPTION OF ITS FABRIC

AND A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE

ARCHIEPISCOPAL SEE

BY HARTLEY WITHERS, B.A.

[Illustration: Arms of Canterbury.]

LONDON GEORGE BELL & SONS 1897

_First Edition December, 1896._

_Second Edition, Revised, with many Additional Illustrations, May, 1897._

* * * * *

GENERAL PREFACE.

This series of monographs has been planned to supply visitors to the great

English Cathedrals with accurate and well illustrated guide books at a

popular price. The aim of each writer has been to produce a work compiled

with sufficient knowledge and scholarship to be of value to the student of

archaeology and history, and yet not too technical in language for the use

of an ordinary visitor or tourist.

To specify all the authorities which have been made use of in each case

would be difficult and tedious in this place. But amongst the general

sources of information which have been almost invariably found useful

are:--firstly, the great county histories, the value of which, especially

in questions of genealogy and local records, is generally recognized;

secondly, the numerous papers by experts which appear from time to time in

the transactions of the antiquarian and archaeological societies; thirdly,

the important documents made accessible in the series issued by the Master

of the Rolls; fourthly, the well-known works of Britton and Willis on the

English Cathedrals; and, lastly, the very excellent series of Handbooks to

the Cathedrals, originated by the late Mr. John Murray, to which the

reader may in most cases be referred for fuller detail, especially in

reference to the histories of the respective sees.

GLEESON WHITE.

E.F. STRANGE.

_Editors of the Series._

* * * * *

PREFACE.

Among authorities consulted in the preparation of this volume, the author

desires to name specially Prof. Willis's "Architectural History of

Canterbury Cathedral" (1845), Dean Stanley's "Historical Memorials of

Canterbury" (Murray, 1855, and fifth edition, 1868), "Canterbury," by the

Rev. R.C. Jenkins (1880), and the excellent section devoted to Canterbury

in Murray's "Handbooks to the English Cathedrals, Southern Division,"

wherein Mr. Richard John King brought together so much valuable matter,

to which reference has been made too often to be acknowledged in each

instance. For permission to use this the publishers have to thank Mr. John

Murray.

For the reproduction of the drawings of the various parts of the

Cathedral, and the arms on the title page, by Mr. Walter Tallent Owen,

the editors are greatly indebted to the artist, from whose volume, "Bits

of Canterbury Cathedral," published by W.T. Comstock, New York, 1891, they

have been taken. Others are taken from Charles Wild's "Specimens of

Mediaeval Architecture," and from Carter's "Ancient Sculpture and

Paintings."

The illustrations from photographs in this volume have been reproduced

from the originals by Messrs. Carl Norman and Co.

H.W.

* * * * *

CONTENTS.

PAGE

CHAPTER I.--History of the Building 3

CHAPTER II.--Exterior and Precincts:

The Angel or Bell Tower 24

The Monastery 32

Christchurch Gate 35

Ruins of the Infirmary 38

The Treasury 38

The Lavatory Tower 40

The Chapter House 42

The Library 44

The Deanery 44

The Green Court 48

CHAPTER III.--Interior:

The Nave 52

The Central Tower 55

The Western Screen 56

The Choir 57

The Altar 61

The Choir 64

The Choir Stalls 65

South-East Transept 67

South-West Choir Aisle 69

St. Anselm's Tower and Chapel 69

The Watching Chamber 72

Trinity Chapel 72

Tomb of the Black Prince 75

Becket's Crown 88

St. Andrew's Tower 90

North-East Transept 90

Chapel of the Martyrdom 92

The Dean's Chapel 94

South-West Transept 95

St. Michael's Chapel 95

The Main Crypt 96

The Eastern Crypt 101

CHAPTER IV.--The History of the See 103

ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE

The Cathedral from the South _Frontispiece_

Arms of Canterbury _Title_

The Cathedral from the North 1

Plan of Canterbury Cathedral (_Circa 1165_) 4

The Cloisters 19

View on the Stour 22

The Central Tower, "Bell Harry" 25

Detail of St. Anselm's Tower 32

The Christchurch Gate 33

The South-West Porch of the Cathedral 36

Cloisters of the Monks' Infirmary 37

Ruins of the Monks' Infirmary 38

The Baptistery Tower 39

Turret of South-West Transept 41

The Cloisters 43

Norman Staircase in the Close 45

Details of the Norman Staircase in the Close 46

Details of Ornament 47

Old Painting, "The Murder of St. Thomas a Becket" 51

The Shrine of St. Thomas a Becket (from the Cottonian MS.) 52

Capitals of Columns in the Eastern Apse 54

The Choir--looking East 59

Do. before Restoration 62

A Miserere in the Choir 65

Some Mosaics from the Floor of Trinity Chapel 73

The Black Prince's Tomb 77

Shield, Coat, etc., of the Black Prince 80

West Gate 81

Trinity Chapel, looking into Corona, "Becket's Crown" 88

Chair of St. Augustine 89

Transept of "The Martyrdom" 92

Part of South-Western Transept 94

The Crypt 97

Do. St. Gabriel's Chapel 100

Do. Cardinal Morton's Monument 101

Plans of Cathedral at three periods 130

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE CATHEDRAL FROM THE NORTH

(FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY CARL NORMAN AND CO.).]

CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL.

CHAPTER I.

THE HISTORY OF THE BUILDING.

More than four hundred years passed by between the beginning of the

building of this cathedral by Archbishop Lanfranc (1070-1089) and its

completion, by the addition of the great central tower, at the end of the

fifteenth century. But before tracing the history of the construction of

the present well-known fabric, a few words will not be out of place

concerning the church which preceded it on the same site. A British or

Roman church, said to have been built by a certain mythical King Lucius,

was given to St. Augustine by Ethelbert in A.D. 597. It was designed,

broadly speaking, on the plan of the old Basilica of St. Peter at Rome,

but as to the latest date of any alterations, which may or may not have

been made by Augustine and his immediate successors, we have no accurate

information. It is, however, definitely stated that Archbishop Odo, who

held the see from A.D. 942-959, raised the walls and rebuilt the roof. In

the course of these alterations the church was roofless for three years,

and we are told that no rain fell within the precincts during this time.

In A.D. 1011 Canterbury was pillaged by the Danes, who carried off

Archbishop Alphege to Greenwich, butchered the monks, and did much damage

to the church. The building was, however, restored by Canute, who made

further atonement by hanging up his crown within its walls, and bringing

back the body of Alphege, who had been martyred by the Danes. In the year

1067 the storms of the Norman Conquest overwhelmed St. Augustine's church,

which was completely destroyed by fire, together with many royal deeds of

privilege and papal bulls, and other valuable documents.

A description of the church thus destroyed is given by Prof. Willis, who

quotes all the ancient writers who mention it. The chief authority is

Eadmer, who was a boy at the monastery school when the Saxon church was

pulled down, and was afterwards a monk and "singer" in the cathedral. It

is he who tells us that it was arranged in some parts in imitation of the

church of St. Peter at Rome. Odo had translated the body of Wilfrid,

Archbishop of York, from Ripon to Canterbury, and had "worthily placed it

in a more lofty receptacle, to use his own words, that is to say, in the

great Altar which was constructed of rough stones and mortar, close to the

wall at the eastern part of the presbytery. Afterwards another altar was

placed at a convenient distance before the aforesaid altar.... In this

altar the blessed Elphege had solemnly deposited the head of St. Swithin

... and also many relics of other saints. To reach these altars, a certain

crypt which the Romans call a Confessionary had to be ascended by means of

several steps from the choir of the singers. This crypt was fabricated

beneath in the likeness of the confessionary of St. Peter, the vault of

which was raised so high that the part above could only be reached by many

steps." The resting-place of St. Dunstan was separated from the crypt

itself by a strong wall, for that most holy father was interred before the

aforesaid steps at a great depth in the ground, and at the head of the

saint stood the matutinal altar. Thence the choir of the singers was

extended westward into the body of the church.... In the next place,

beyond the middle of the length of the body there were two towers which

projected beyond the aisles of the church. The south tower had an altar in

the midst of it, which was dedicated in honour of the blessed Pope

Gregory.... Opposite to this tower and on the north, the other tower was

built in honour of the blessed Martin, and had about it cloisters for the

use of the monks.... The extremity of the church was adorned by the

oratory of Mary.... At its eastern part, there was an altar consecrated to

the worship of that Lady.... When the priest performed the Divine

mysteries at this altar he had his face turned to the east.... Behind him,

to the west, was the pontifical chair constructed with handsome

workmanship, and of large stones and cement, and far removed from the

Lord's table, being contiguous to the wall of the church which embraced

the entire area of the building.

Lanfranc, the first Norman archbishop, was granted the see in 1070. He

quickly set about the task of building himself a cathedral. Making no

attempt to restore the old fabric, he even destroyed what was left of

the monastic building, and built up an entirely new church and monastery.

Seven years sufficed to complete his cathedral, which stood on the same

ground as the earlier fane. His work, however, was not long left

undisturbed. It had not stood for twenty years before the east end of the

church was pulled down during the Archiepiscopate of Anselm, and rebuilt

in a much more splendid style by Ernulph, the prior of the monastery.

Conrad, who succeeded Ernulph as prior, finished the choir, decorating it

with great magnificence, and, in the course of his reconstruction, nearly

doubling the area of the building. Thus completed anew, the cathedral was

dedicated by Archbishop William in A.D. 1130. At this notable ceremony the

kings of England and Scotland both assisted, as well as all the English

bishops. Forty years later this church was the scene of Thomas a Becket's

murder (A.D. 1170), and it was in Conrad's choir that the monks watched

over his body during the night after his death.

Eadmer also gives some description of the church raised by Lanfranc. The

new archbishop, "filled with consternation" when he found that "the church

of the Saviour which he undertakes to rule was reduced to almost nothing

by fire and ruin," proceeded to "set about to destroy it utterly, and

erect a more noble one. And in the space of seven years he raised this new

church from the very foundations and rendered it nearly perfect....

Archbishop Anselm, who succeeded Lanfranc, appointed Ernulf to be

prior.... Having taken down the eastern part of the church which Lanfranc

had built, he erected it so much more magnificently, that nothing like it

could be seen in England, either for the brilliancy of its glass windows,

the beauty of its marble pavement, or the many coloured pictures which led

the wondering eyes to the very summit of the ceiling." It was this part of

the church, however, that was completed by Ernulf's successor, Conrad, and

afterwards known as Conrad's choir. It appears that Anselm "allowed the

monks to manage their own affairs, and gave them for priors Ernulf, and

then Conrad, both monks of their own monastery. And thus it happened that,

in addition to the general prosperity and good order of their property,

which resulted from this freedom, they were enabled to enlarge their

church by all that part which stretches from the great tower to the east;

which work Anselm himself provided for," having "granted to the said

church the revenues of his town of Peckham, for seven years, the whole of

which were expended upon the new work." Prof. Willis, unable to account

for the haste with which the east end of Lanfranc's church was pulled

down, assumes that the monks "did not think their church large enough for

the importance of their monastery," and moreover wanted shrine-room for

the display of relics. The main body of Lanfranc's church was left

standing, and is described as follows by Gervase. "The tower, raised upon

great pillars, is placed in the midst of the church, like the centre in

the middle of a circle. It had on its apex a gilt cherub. On the west of

the tower is the nave of the church, supported on either side upon eight

pillars. Two lofty towers with gilded pinnacles terminate this nave or

aula. A gilded _corona_ hangs in the midst of the church. A screen with a

loft (_pulpitum_) separated in a manner the aforesaid tower from the nave,

and had in the middle and on the side towards the nave, the altar of the

holy cross. Above the _pulpitum_ and placed across the church, was the

beam, which sustained a great cross, two cherubim, and the images of St.

Mary and St. John the Apostle.... The great tower had a cross from each

side, to wit, a south cross and a north cross, each of which had in the

midst a strong pillar; this pillar sustained a vault which proceeded from

the walls on three of its sides," etc. Prof. Willis considers that as far

as these parts of the building are concerned, the present fabric stands

exactly on the site of Lanfranc's. "In the existing building," he says,

"it happens that the nave and transepts have been transformed into the

Perpendicular style of the fourteenth century, and the central tower

carried up to about double its original altitude in the same style.

Nevertheless indications may be detected that these changed parts stand

upon the old foundations of Lanfranc."

The building, however, was not destined to remain long intact. In A.D.

1174 the whole of Conrad's choir was destroyed by a fire, which was

described fully by Gervase, a monk who witnessed it. He gives an

extraordinary account of the rage and grief of the people at the sight of

the burning cathedral. The work of rebuilding was immediately set on foot.

In September, 1174, one William of Sens, undertook the task, and wrought

thereat until 1178, when he was disabled by an unfortunate fall from a

scaffolding, and had to give up his charge and return to France. Another

William, an Englishman this time, took up the direction of the work,

and under his supervision the choir and eastern portion of the church

were finished in A.D. 1184. Further alterations were made under Prior

Chillenden at the end of the fourteenth century. Lanfranc's nave was

pulled down, and a new nave and transepts were constructed, leaving but

little of the original building set up by the first Norman archbishop.

Finally, about A.D. 1495, the cathedral was completed by the addition of

the great central tower.

[Illustration: PLAN OF CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL, ABOUT A.D. 1165.

From a Norman drawing inserted in the Great Psalter of Eadwin, in the

Library of Trinity College, Cambridge. First published in _Vetusta

Monumenta_ (Society of Antiquaries, 1755). For full description and a

plan of the waterworks see _Archaeologia Cantiana_, Vol. VII., 1868.]

During the four centuries which passed during the construction and

reconstruction of the fabric, considerable changes had manifested

themselves in the science and art of architecture. Hence it is that

Canterbury Cathedral is a history, written in solid stone, of

architectural progress, illustrating in itself almost all the various

kinds of the style commonly called Pointed. Of these the earliest form of

Gothic and Perpendicular chiefly predominate. The shape and arrangement of

the building was doubtless largely influenced by the extraordinary number

of precious relics which it contained, and which had to be properly

displayed and fittingly enshrined. Augustine's church had possessed the

bodies of St. Blaize and St. Wilfrid, brought respectively from Rome and

from Ripon; of St. Dunstan, St. Alphege, and St. Ouen, as well as the

heads of St. Swithin and St. Furseus, and the arm of St. Bartholomew.

These were all carefully removed and placed, each in separate altars and

chapels, in Lanfranc's new cathedral. Here their number was added to by

the acquisition of new relics and sacred treasures as time went on, and

finally Canterbury enshrined its chiefest glory, the hallowed body of St.

Thomas a Becket, who was martyred within its walls.

Since, owing to an almost incredible act of royal vindictiveness in A.D.

1538, Becket's glorious shrine belongs only to the history of the past,

some account of its splendours will not be out of place in this part of

our account of the cathedral. It stood on the site of the ancient chapel

of the Trinity, which was burnt down along with Conrad's choir in the

destructive fire of A.D. 1174. It was in this chapel that Thomas a Becket

had first solemnized mass after becoming archbishop. For this reason, as

we may fairly suppose, this position was chosen to enshrine the martyr's

bones, after the rebuilding of the injured portion of the fabric. Though

the shrine itself has been ruthlessly destroyed, a mosaic pavement,

similar to that which may be seen round the tomb of Edward the Confessor

in Westminster Abbey, marks the exact spot on which it stood. The mosaic

is of the kind with which the floors of the Roman basilicas were generally

adorned, and contains signs of the zodiacs and emblems of virtues and

vices. This pavement was directly in front of the west side of the shrine.

On each side of the site is a deep mark in the pavement running towards

the east. This indentation was certainly worn in the soft, pinkish marble

by the knees of generations of pilgrims, who prostrated themselves here

while the treasures were displayed to their gaze. In the roof above there

is fixed a crescent carved out of some foreign wood, which has proved

deeply puzzling to antiquaries. A suggestion, which hardly seems very

plausible, connects this mysterious crescent with the fact that Becket was

closely related, as patron, with the Hospital of St. John at Acre. It was

believed that his prayers had once repulsed the Saracens from the walls of

the fortress, and he received the title of St. Thomas Acrensis. Near this

crescent a number of iron staples were to be seen at one time, and it is

likely that a trophy of some sort depended from them. The Watching Tower

was set high upon the Tower of St. Anselm, on the south side of the

shrine. It contained a fireplace, so that the watchman might keep himself

warm during the winter nights, and from a gallery between the pillars he

commanded a view of the sacred spot and its treasures. A troop of fierce

ban-dogs shared the task of guarding the shrine from theft. How necessary

such precautions were is shown by the fact that such a spot had to be

guarded not only from common robbers in search of rich booty, but also

from holy men, who were quite unscrupulous in their desire to possess

themselves and their own churches of sacred relics. Within the first six

years after Becket's death we read of two striking instances of the

lengths to which distinguished churchmen were carried by what Dean Stanley

calls "the first frenzy of desire for the relics of St. Thomas." Benedict,

a monk of Christ Church, and "probably the most distinguished of his

body," was created Abbot of Peterburgh in A.D. 1176. Disappointed to find

that his cathedral was very poor in the matter of relics he returned to

Canterbury, "took away with him the flagstones immediately surrounding the

sacred spot, with which he formed two altars in the conventual church of

his new appointment, besides two vases of blood and parts of Becket's

clothing." Still more striking and characteristic of the prevalent passion

for relics is the story of Roger, who was keeper of the "Altars of the

Martyrdom," or "Custos Martyrii." The brothers of St. Augustine's Abbey

were so eager to obtain a share in the glory which their great rival, the

neighbouring cathedral, had won from the circumstances of Becket's

martyrdom within its walls, that they actually offered Roger no less a

reward than the position of abbot in their own institution, on condition

that he should purloin for them some part of the remains of the martyr's

skull. And not only did Roger, though he had been specially selected from

amongst the monks of Christ Church to watch over this very treasure, agree

to their conditions, and after duly carrying out this piece of

sacrilegious burglary become Abbot of St. Augustine's; but the chroniclers

of the abbey were not ashamed to boast of this transaction as an instance

of cleverness and well-applied zeal.

The translation of Becket's remains from the tomb to his shrine took place

A.D. 1220, fifty years after his martyrdom. The young Henry III., who had

just laid the foundation of the new abbey at Westminster, assisted at the

ceremony. The primate then ruling at Canterbury was the great Stephen

Langton, who had won renown both as a scholar and a statesman. He had

carried out the division of the Bible into chapters, as it is now

arranged, and had won a decisive victory for English liberty by forcing

King John to sign the Great Charter. He was now advanced in years, and had

recently assisted at the coronation of King Henry at Westminster.

The translation was carried out with imposing ceremony. The scene must

have been one of surpassing splendour; never had such an assemblage been

gathered together in England. Robert of Gloucester relates that not only

Canterbury but the surrounding countryside was full to overflowing:

"Of bishops and abbots, priors and parsons,

Of earls, and of barons, and of many knights thereto;

Of serjeants, and of squires, and of husbandmen enow,

And of simple men eke of the land--so thick thither drew."

The archbishop had given notice two years before, proclaiming the day of

the solemnity throughout Europe as well as England: the episcopal manors

had been bidden to furnish provisions for the huge concourse, not only in

the cathedral city, but along all the roads by which it was approached.

Hay and provisions were given to all who asked it between London and

Canterbury; at the gates of the city and in the four licensed cellars tuns

of wine were set up, that all who thirsted might drink freely, and wine

ran in the street channels on the day of the festival. During the night

before the ceremony the primate, together with the Bishop of Salisbury and

all the members of the brotherhood, who were headed by Walter the Prior,

solemnly, with psalms and hymns, entered the crypt in which the martyr's

body lay, and removed the stones which covered the tomb. Four priests,

specially conspicuous for their piety, were selected to take out the

relics, which were then placed in a strong coffer studded with iron nails

and fastened with iron hasps.

Next day a procession was formed, headed by the young king, Henry III.

After him came Pandulf, the Italian Bishop of Norwich and Papal Nuncio,

and Langton the archbishop, with whom was the Archbishop of Rheims,

Primate of France. The great Hubert de Burgh, Lord High Justiciary,

together with four other barons, completed the company, which was selected

to bear the chest to its resting-place. When this had been duly deposited,

a solemn mass was celebrated by the French archbishop. The anniversary of

this great festival was commemorated as the Feast of the Translation of

the Blessed St. Thomas, until it was suppressed by a royal injunction of

Henry VIII. in 1536.

A picture of the shrine itself is preserved among the Cottonian MSS., and

a representation of it also exists in one of the stained windows of the

cathedral. At the end of it the altar of the Saint had its place; the

lower part of its walls were of stone, and against them the lame and

diseased pilgrims used to rub their bodies, hoping to be cured of their

afflictions. The shrine itself was supported on marble arches, and

remained concealed under a wooden covering, doubtless intended to enhance

the effect produced by the sudden revelation of the glories beneath it;

for when the pilgrims were duly assembled on their knees round the shrine,

the cover was suddenly raised at a given signal, and though such a device

may appear slightly theatrical in these days, it is easy to imagine how

the devotees of the middle ages must have been thrilled at the sight of

this hallowed tomb, and all the bravery of gold and precious stones which

the piety of that day had heaped upon it. The beauties of the shrine were

pointed out by the prior, who named the giver of the several jewels. Many

of these were of enormous value, especially a huge carbuncle, as large as

an egg, which had been offered to the memory of St. Thomas by Louis VII.

of France, who visited the shrine in A.D. 1179, after having thrice seen

the Saint in a vision. A curious legend, thoroughly in keeping with the

mystic halo of miraculous power which surrounds the martyred archbishop's

fame, relates that the French king could not make up his mind to part with

this invaluable gem, which was called the "Regale of France;" but when he

visited the tomb, the stone, so runs the story, leapt forth from the ring

in which it was set, and fixed itself of its own will firmly in the wall

of the shrine, thus baffling the unwilling monarch's half-heartedness.

Louis also presented a gold cup, and gave the monks a hundred measures,

medii, of wine, to be delivered annually at Poissy, also ordaining that

they should be exempt from "toll, tax, and tallage" when journeying in his

realm. He himself was made a member of the brotherhood, after duly

spending a night in prayer at the tomb. It is said that, "because he was

very fearful of the water," the French king received a promise from the

Saint that neither he nor any other that crossed over from Dover to

Whitsand, should suffer any manner of loss or shipwreck. We are told that

Louis's piety was afterwards rewarded by the miraculous recovery, through

St. Thomas's intercession, of his son from a dangerous illness. Louis was

the first of a series of royal pilgrims to the shrine. Richard the Lion

Heart, set free from durance in Austria, walked thither from Sandwich to

return thanks to God and St. Thomas. After him all the English kings and

all the Continental potentates who visited the shores of Britain, paid due

homage, and doubtless made due offering, at the shrine of the sainted

archbishop. The crown of Scotland was presented in A.D. 1299 by Edward

Longshanks, and Henry V. gave thanks here after his victory over the

French at Agincourt. Emperors, both of the east and west, humbled

themselves before the relics of the famous English martyr. Henry VIII. and

the Emperor Charles V. came together at Whitsuntide, A.D. 1520, in more

than royal splendour, and with a great retinue of English and Spanish

noblemen, and worshipped at the shrine which had then reached the zenith

of its glory.

But though the stately stories of these royal progresses to the tomb of

the martyred archbishop strike the imagination vividly, yet the picture

presented by Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales" is in reality much more

impressive. For we find there all ranks of society alike making the

pilgrimage--the knight, the yeoman, the prioress, the monk, the friar, the

merchant, the scholar from Oxford, the lawyer, the squire, the tradesman,

the cook, the shipman, the physician, the clothier from Bath, the priest,

the miller, the reeve, the manciple, the seller of indulgences, and,

lastly, the poet himself--all these various sorts and conditions of men

and women we find journeying down to Canterbury in a sort of motley

caravan. Foreign pilgrims also came to the sacred shrine in great numbers.

A curious record, preserved in a Latin translation, of the journey of a

Bohemian noble, Leo von Rotzmital, who visited England in 1446, gives a

quaint description of Canterbury and its approaches. "Sailing up the

Channel," the narrator writes, "as we drew near to England we saw lofty

mountains full of chalk. These mountains seem from a distance to be clad

with snows. On them lies a citadel, built by devils, '_a Cacodaemonibus

extructa_,' so stoutly fortified that its peer could not be found in any

province of Christendom. Passing by these mountains and citadel we put in

at the city of Sandwich (_Sandvicum_).... But at nothing did I marvel more

greatly than at the sailors climbing up the masts and foretelling the

distance, and approach of the winds, and which sails should be set and

which furled. Among them I saw one sailor so nimble that scarce could any

man be compared with him." Journeying on to Canterbury, our pilgrim

proceeds: "There we saw the tomb and head of the martyr. The tomb is of

pure gold, and embellished with jewels, and so enriched with splendid

offerings that I know not its peer. Among other precious things upon it is

beholden the carbuncle jewel, which is wont to shine by night, half a

hen's egg in size. For that tomb has been lavishly enriched by many kings,

princes, wealthy traders, and other righteous men."

Such was Canterbury Cathedral in the middle ages, the resort of emperors,

kings, and all classes of humble folk, English and foreign. It was in the

spring chiefly, as Chaucer tells us, that

"Whanne that April with his showres sote

The droughte of March hath perced to the rote,

And bathed every veine in swiche licour,

Of whiche vertue engendred is the flour;

When Zephyrus eke with his sote brethe

Enspired hath in every holt and hethe

The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne

Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,

And smale foules maken melodie

That slepen alle night with open eye,

So priketh hem nature in hir corages;

Than longen folk to gon on pilgrimages

And palmeres for to seken strange strondes

To serve hauves couthe in sondry londes;

And specially from every shires ende

Of Englelonde, to Canterbury they wende

The holy blissful martyr for to seke,

That hem hath holpen when that they were seke."

The miracles performed by the bones of the blessed martyr are stated by

contemporary writers to have been extraordinarily numerous. We have it on

the authority of Gervase that two volumes full of these marvels were

preserved at Canterbury, and in those days a volume meant a tome of

formidable dimensions; but scarcely any record of these most interesting

occurrences has been preserved. At the time of Henry VIII.'s quarrel with

the dead archbishop--of which more anon--the name of St. Thomas and all

account of his deeds was erased from every book that the strictest

investigation could lay hands on. So thoroughly was this spiteful edict

carried out that the records of the greatest of English saints are

astonishingly meagre. A letter, however, has been preserved, written about

A.D. 1390 by Richard II. to congratulate the then archbishop, William

Courtenay, on a fresh miracle performed by St. Thomas: "_Litera domini

Regis graciosa missa domino archiepiscopo, regraciando sibi de novo

miraculo Sancti Thome Martiris sibi denunciato._" The letter refers, in

its quaint Norman-French, to the good influence that will be exercised by

such a manifestation, as a practical argument against the "various enemies

of our faith and belief"--_noz foie et creaunce ount plousours enemys_.

These were the Lollards, and the pious king says that he hopes and

believes that they will be brought back to the right path by the effect

of this miracle, which seems to have been worked to heal a distinguished

foreigner--_en une persone estraunge_.

Another document (dated A.D. 1455) preserves the story of the miraculous

cure of a young Scotsman, from Aberdeen, _Allexander Stephani filius in

Scocia, de Aberdyn oppido natus_. Alexander was lame, _pedibus contractus_,

from his birth, we are told that after twenty-four years of pain and

discomfort--_vigintiquatuor annis penaliter laborabat_--he made a

pilgrimage to Canterbury, and there "the sainted Thomas, the divine

clemency aiding him, on the second day of the month of May did straightway

restore his legs and feet, _bases et plantas_, to the same Alexander."

Other miracles performed by the saint are pictured in the painted windows

of Trinity Chapel, of which we shall treat fully later on. The fame of the

martyr spread through the whole of Christendom. Stanley tells us that

"there is probably no country in Europe which does not exhibit traces of

Becket. A tooth of his is preserved in the church of San Thomaso

Cantuariense at Verona, part of an arm in a convent at Florence, and

another part in the church of St. Waldetrude at Mons; in Fuller's time

both arms were displayed in the English convent at Lisbon; while Bourbourg

preserves his chalice, Douay his hair shirt, and St. Omer his mitre. The

cathedral of Sens contains his vestments and an ancient altar at which he

said mass. His story is pictured in the painted windows at Chartres, and

Sens, and St. Omer, and his figure is to be seen in the church of Monreale

at Palermo."

In England almost every county contained a church or convent dedicated to

St. Thomas. Most notable of these was the abbey of Aberbrothock, raised,

within seven years after the martyrdom, to the memory of the saint by

William the Lion, king of Scotland. William had been defeated by the

English forces on the very day on which Henry II. had done penance at the

tomb, and made his peace with the saint, and attributing his misfortunes

to the miraculous influence of St. Thomas, endeavoured to propitiate him

by the dedication of this magnificent abbey. A mutilated image of the

saint has been preserved among the ruins of the monastery. This is perhaps

the most notable of the gifts to St. Thomas. The volume of the offerings

which were poured into the Canterbury coffers by grateful invalids who

had been cured of their ailments, and by others who, like the Scotch king,

were anxious to propitiate the power of the saint, must have been

enormous. We know that at the beginning of the sixteenth century the

yearly offerings, though their sums had already greatly diminished, were

worth about L4,000, according to the present value of money.

The story of the fall of the shrine and the overthrow of the power of the

martyr is so remarkable and was so implicitly believed at the time, that

it cannot be passed over in spite of the doubts which modern criticism

casts on its authenticity. It is said that in April, A.D. 1538, a writ of

summons was issued in the name of King Henry VIII. against Thomas Becket,

sometime Archbishop of Canterbury, accusing him of treason, contumacy, and

rebellion. This document was read before the martyr's tomb, and thirty

days were allowed for his answer to the summons. As the defendant did not

appear, the suit was formally tried at Westminster. The Attorney General

held a brief for Henry II., and the deceased defendant was represented by

an advocate named by Henry VIII. Needless to relate, judgment was given in

favour of Henry II., and the condemned Archbishop was ordered to have his

bones burnt and all his gorgeous offerings escheated to the Crown. The

first part of the sentence was remitted and Becket's body was buried, but

he was deprived of the title of Saint, his images were destroyed

throughout the kingdom, and his name was erased from all books. The shrine

was destroyed, and the gold and jewels thereof were taken away in

twenty-six carts. Henry VIII. himself wore the Regale of France in a ring

on his thumb. Improbable as the story of Becket's trial may seem, such a

procedure was strictly in accordance with the forms of the Roman Catholic

Church, of which Henry still at that time professed himself a member:

moreover it is not without authentic parallels in history: exactly the

same measures of reprisal had been taken against Wycliffe at Lutterworth;

and Queen Mary shortly afterwards acted in a similar manner towards Bucer

and Fagius at Cambridge.

The last recorded pilgrim to the shrine of St. Thomas was Madame de

Montreuil, a great French dame who had been waiting on Mary of Guise, in

Scotland. She visited Canterbury in August, A.D. 1538, and we are told

that she was taken to see the wonders of the place and marvelled at all

the riches thereof, and said "that if she had not seen it, all the men in

the world could never 'a made her believe it." Though she would not kiss

the head of St. Thomas, the Prior "did send her a present of coneys,

capons, chickens, with divers fruits--plenty--insomuch that she said,

'What shall we do with so many capons? Let the Lord Prior come, and eat,

and help us to eat them tomorrow at dinner' and so thanked him heartily

for the said present."

Such was the history of Becket's shrine. We have dwelt on it at some

length because it is no exaggeration to say that in the Middle Ages

Canterbury Cathedral owed its European fame and enormous riches to the

fact that it contained the shrine within its walls, and because the story

of the influence of the Saint and the miracles that he worked, and the

millions of pilgrims who flocked from the whole civilized world to do

homage to him, throws a brighter and more vivid light on the lives and

thoughts and beliefs of mediaeval men than many volumes stuffed with

historical research. No visitor to Canterbury can appreciate what he sees,

unless he realizes to some extent the glamour which overhung the resting

place of St. Thomas in the days of Geoffrey Chaucer. We have no certain

knowledge as to whether the other shrines and relics which enriched the

cathedral were destroyed along with those of St. Thomas. Dunstan and

Elphege at least can hardly have escaped, and it is probable that most of

the monuments and relics perished at the time of the Reformation. We know

that in A.D. 1541, Cranmer deplored the slight effect which had been

wrought by the royal orders for the destruction of the bones and images

of supposed saints. And that he forthwith received letters from the king,

enjoining him to cause "due search to be made in his cathedral churches,

and if any shrine, covering of shrine, table, monument of miracles, or

other pilgrimage, do there continue, to cause it to be taken away, so as

there remain no memory of it." This order probably brought about the

destruction of the tombs and monuments of the early archbishops, most

of whom had been officially canonised, or been at least enrolled in the

popular calendar, and were accordingly doomed to have their resting-places

desecrated. We know that about this time the tomb of Winchelsey was

destroyed, because he was adored by the people as a reputed saint.

Any monuments that may have escaped royal vandalism at the Reformation

period, fell before the even more effective fanaticism of the Puritans,

who seem to have exercised their iconoclastic energies with especial zeal

and vigour at Canterbury. Just before their time Archbishop Laud spent a

good deal of trouble and money on the adornment of the high altar. A

letter to him from the Dean, dated July 8th, A.D. 1634, is quoted by

Prynne, "We have obeyed your Grace's direction in pulling down the

exorbitant seates within our Quire whereby the church is very much

beautified.... Lastly wee most humbly beseech your Grace to take notice

that many and most necessary have beene the occasions of extraordinary

expences this yeare for ornaments, etc." And another Puritan scribe tells

us that "At the east end of the cathedral they have placed an Altar as

they call it dressed after the Romish fashion, for which altar they have

lately provided a most idolatrous costly glory cloth or back cloth."

These embellishments were not destined to remain long undisturbed. In A.D.

1642, the Puritan troopers hewed the altar-rails to pieces and then "threw

the Altar over and over down the three Altar steps, and left it lying with

the heels upwards." This was only the beginning: we read that during the

time of the Great Rebellion, "the newly erected font was pulled down, the

inscriptions, figures, and coats of arms, engraven upon brass, were torn

off from the ancient monuments, and whatsoever there was of beauty or

decency in the holy place, was despoiled."

A manuscript, compiled in 1662, and preserved in the Chapter library,

gives a more minute account of this work of destruction. "The windows

were generally battered and broken down; the whole roof, with that of the

steeples, the chapter-house and cloister, externally impaired and ruined

both in timber-work and lead; water-tanks, pipes, and much other lead cut

off; the choir stripped and robbed of her fair and goodly hangings; the

organ and organ-loft, communion-table, and the best and chiefest of the

furniture, with the rail before it, and the screen of tabernacle work

richly overlaid with gold behind it; goodly monuments shamefully abused,

defaced, and rifled of brasses, iron grates, and bars."

The ringleader in this work of destruction was a fanatic named Richard

Culmer, commonly known as Blue Dick. A paper preserved in the Chapter

library, in the writing of Somner, the great antiquarian scholar,

describes the state in which the fabric of the cathedral was left, at the

time of the Restoration of King Charles II., in 1660. "So little," says

this document, "had the fury of the late reformers left remaining of it

besides the bare walles and roofe, and these, partly through neglect, and

partly by the daily assaults and batteries of the disaffected, so

shattered, ruinated, and defaced, as it was not more unserviceable in the

way of a cathedral than justly scandalous to all who delight to serve God

in the beauty of Holines." Most of the windows had been broken, "the

church's guardians, her faire and strong gates, turned off the hooks and

burned." The buildings and houses of the clergy had been pulled down or

greatly damaged; and lastly, "the goodly oaks in our common gardens, of

good value in themselves, and in their time very beneficial to our church

by their shelter, quite eradicated and _set to sale_." This last touch is

interesting, as showing that the reforming zeal of the Puritans was not

always altogether disinterested.

After the Restoration some attempt was made to render the cathedral once

more a fitting place of worship, and the sum of L10,000 was devoted to

repairs and other public and pious uses. A screen was put up in the same

position as the former one, and the altar was placed in front. But, in

A.D. 1729, this screen no longer suited the taste of the period, and a

sum of L500, bequeathed by one of the prebendaries, was devoted to the

erection of a screen in the Corinthian style, designed by a certain Mr.

Burrough, afterwards Master of Caius College, Cambridge. A little before

this time the old stalls, which had survived the Puritan period were

replaced: a writer describes them, in the early half of the seventeenth

century, as standing in two rows, an upper and lower, on each side, with

the archbishop's wood throne above them on the south side. This chair he

mentions as "sometime richly guilt, and otherwise well set forth, but now

nothing specious through age and late neglect. It is a close seat, made

after the old fashion of such stalls, called thence _faldistoria_; only in

this they differ, that they were moveable, this is fixt."

Thus wrote Somner in A.D. 1640: the dilapidated throne of which he speaks

was replaced, in A.D. 1704, by a splendid throne with a tall Corinthian

canopy, and decorated with carving by Grinling Gibbons, the gift of

Archbishop Tenison, who also set up new stalls. At the same time Queen

Mary the Second presented new and magnificent furniture for the altar,

throne, stalls of the chief clergy, and pulpit. Since then many alterations

have been made. The old altar and screen have been removed, and a new

reredos set up, copied from the screen work of the Lady Chapel in the

crypt; and Archbishop Tenison's throne has given place to a lofty stone

canopy. In 1834 owing to its tottering condition the north-west tower of

the nave had to be pulled down. It was rebuilt on an entirely different

plan by Mr. George Austin, who, with his son, also conducted a good deal

of repairing and other work in the cathedral and the buildings connected

with it. A good deal of the external stonework had to be renewed, but the

work was carried out judiciously, and only where it was absolutely

necessary. On the west side of the south transept a turret has been pulled

down and set up again stone by stone. The crypt has been cleared out and

restored, and its windows have been reopened. The least satisfactory

evidences of the modern hand are the stained glass windows, which have been

put up in the nave and transepts of the cathedral. The Puritan trooper had

wrought havoc in the ancient glass, smashing it wherever a pike-thrust

could reach; and modern piety has been almost as ruthless in erecting

windows which are quite incredibly hideous.

In September, 1872, Canterbury was once more damaged by fire, just about

seven hundred years after the memorable conflagration described by

Gervase. On this occasion, however, the damage did not go beyond the outer

roof of the Trinity Chapel. The fire broke out at about half-past ten in

the morning, and was luckily discovered before it had made much progress,

by two plumbers who were at work in the south gutter. According to the

"Builder" of that month, "a peculiar whirring noise" caused them to look

inside the roof, and they found three of the main roof-timbers blazing. "The

best conjecture seems to be that the dry twigs, straw, and similar

_debris_, carried into the roof by birds, and which it has been the custom

to clear at intervals out of the vault pockets, had caught fire from a

spark that had in some way passed through the roof covering, perhaps under

a sheet raised a little at the bottom by the wind." Assistance was quickly

summoned, and "by half-past twelve the whole was seen to be extinguished.

At four o'clock the authorities held the evening service, so as not to

break a continuity of custom extending over centuries; and in the

smoke-filled choir, the whole of the Chapter in residence, in the proper

Psalm (xviii.), found expression for the sense of victory over a conquered

enemy."

Thus little harm was done, but it must have been an exciting crisis while

it lasted. "The bosses [of the vaulting], pierced with cradle-holes,

happened to be well-placed for the passage of the liquid lead dripping on

the back of the vault from the blazing roof," which poured down on to the

pavement below, on the very spot which Becket's shrine had once occupied.

"Through the holes further westward water came, sufficient to float over

the surfaces of the polished Purbeck marble floor and the steps of the

altar, and alarmed the well-intentioned assistants into removing the

altar, tearing up the altar-rails, etc., etc. The relics of the Black

Prince, attached to a beam (over his tomb) at the level of the caps of the

piers on the south side of Trinity Chapel, were all taken down and placed

away in safety. The eastern end of the church is said to have been filled

with steam from water rushing through with, and falling on, the molten

lead on the floor; and, in time, by every opening, wood-smoke reached the

inside of the building, filling all down to the west of the nave with a

blue haze." The scene in the building is said to have been one of

extraordinary beauty, but most lovers of architecture would probably

prefer to view the fabric with its own loveliness, unenhanced by numerous

streams of molten lead pouring down from the roof.

Since that date Canterbury Cathedral has been happy in the possession of

no history, and we pass on, therefore, to the examination in detail of its

exterior.

[Illustration: THE CLOISTERS.]

The Cathedral Church of Canterbury [2nd ed.] A Description of Its Fabric and a Brief History of the Archiepiscopal See · 第 1 / 4 章