EXTERIOR AND PRECINCTS--THE MONASTERY.
The external beauties of Canterbury Cathedral can best be viewed in their
entirety from a distance. The old town has nestled in close under the
walls of the church that dominates it, preventing anything like a complete
view of the building from the immediate precincts. But Canterbury is girt
with a ring of hills, from which we may enjoy a strikingly beautiful view
of the ancient city, lying asleep in the rich, peaceful valley of the
Stour, and the mighty cathedral towering over the red-tiled roofs of the
town, and looking, as a rustic remarked as he gazed down upon it "like a
hen brooding over her chickens." Erasmus must have been struck by some
such aspect of the cathedral, for he says, "It rears its crest (_erigit
se_) with so great majesty to the sky, that it inspires a feeling of awe
even in those who look at it from afar." Such a view may well be got from
the hills of Harbledown, a village about two miles from Canterbury,
containing in itself many objects of antiquarian and aesthetic interest.
It stands on the road by which Chaucer's pilgrims wended their way to the
shrine of St. Thomas, and it is almost certainly referred to in the lines
in which the poet speaks of
"A little town
Which that yeleped is Bob Up and Down
Under the Blee in Canterbury way."
The name Harbledown is derived by local philologists from Bob up and Down,
and the hilly nature of the country fully justifies the title. Here stands
Lanfranc's Lazar-house, "so picturesque even now in its decay, and in
spite of modern alterations which have swept away all but the ivy-clad
chapel of Lanfranc." In this hospital a shoe of St. Thomas was preserved
which pilgrims were expected to kiss as they passed by; and in an old
chest the modern visitor may still behold a rude money-box with a slit in
the lid, into which the great Erasmus is said to have dropped a coin when
he visited Canterbury at the time when St. Thomas's glory was just
beginning to wane. Behind the hospital is an ancient well called "the
Black Prince's Well." The Black Prince, as is well known, passed through
Canterbury on his way from Sandwich to London, whither he was escorting
his royal prisoner, King John of France, whom he had captured at the
battle of Poitiers, A.D. 1357. We need not doubt that he halted at
Harbledown to salute the martyr's shoe, and he may have washed in the
water of the well, which was henceforward called by his name. Another
tradition relates that he had water brought to him from this well when
he lay sick, ten years later, in the archbishop's palace at Canterbury.
[Illustration: VIEW ON THE STOUR.]
Another good view may be had from the crest on which stands St. Martin's
Church, which was formerly believed to be the oldest in England, so
ancient that its origin was connected with the mythical King Lucius.
Modern research has decided that it is of later date, but there is no
doubt that on the spot on which it now stands, Bertha, the wife of
Ethelbert--who was ruling when Augustine landed with his monks--had a
little chapel, as Bede relates, "in the east of the city," where she
worshipped, before her husband's conversion, with her chaplain, Luidhard,
a French priest. Dean Stanley has described this view in a fine passage:
"Let any one sit on the hill of the little church of St. Martin, and look
on the view which is there spread before his eyes. Immediately below are
the towers of the great abbey of St. Augustine, where Christian learning
and civilization first struck root in the Anglo-Saxon race; and within
which, now, after a lapse of many centuries, a new institution has arisen,
intended to carry far and wide to countries of which Gregory and Augustine
never heard, the blessings which they gave to us. Carry your view on--and
there rises high above all the magnificent pile of our cathedral, equal in
splendour and state to any, the noblest temple or church, that Augustine
could have seen in ancient Rome, rising on the very ground which derives
its consecration from him. And still more than the grandeur of the outward
building that rose from the little church of Augustine, and the little
palace of Ethelbert, have been the institutions of all kinds, of which
these were the earliest cradle. From the first English Christian
city--from Kent, the first English Christian kingdom--has, by degrees,
arisen the whole constitution of Church and State in England which now
binds together the whole British Empire. And from the Christianity here
established in England has flowed, by direct consequence, first, the
Christianity of Germany--then after a long interval, of North America, and
lastly, we may trust in time, of all India and all Australasia. The view
from St. Martin's Church is, indeed, one of the most inspiriting that can
be found in the world; there is none to which I would more willingly take
any one who doubted whether a small beginning could lead to a great and
lasting good--none which carries us more vividly back into the past, or
more hopefully forward to the future."
In the town itself, the best point of vantage from which the visitor can
get a good view of the cathedral is the summit of the Dane John, a lofty
mound crowned by an obelisk; from this height we look across at the roof
and towers of the cathedral rising above thickly clustering trees: from
here also there is a fine view over the beautiful valley of the Stour in
the direction of Thanington and Chartham.
In the immediate precincts, a delightful picture is presented from the
Green Court, which was once the main outer court of the monastery. Here
are noble trees and beautifully kept turf, at once in perfect harmony and
agreeable contrast with the rugged walls of the weather-beaten cathedral:
the quiet soft colouring of the ancient buildings and that look of
cloistered seclusion only to be found in the peaceful nooks of cathedral
cities are seen here at their very best.
[Illustration: "BELL HARRY," THE CENTRAL TOWER.]
The chief glory of the exterior of Canterbury Cathedral is the central
#Angel or Bell Tower#. This is one of the most perfect structures that
Gothic architecture, inspired by the loftiest purpose that ever stimulated
the work of any art, has produced. It was completed by Prior Selling, who
held office in 1472, and has been variously called the Bell Harry Tower
from the mighty Dunstan bell, weighing three tons and three hundredweight,
and the Angel Tower from the gilded figure of an angel poised on one of
the pinnacles, which has long ago disappeared. The tower itself is of two
stages, with two two-light windows in each stage; the windows are
transomed in each face, and the lower tier is canopied; each angle is
rounded off with an octagonal turret and the whole structure is a
marvellous example of architectural harmony, and in every way a work of
transcendent beauty. The two buttressing arches and the ornamental braces
which support it were added at the end of the fifteenth century by Prior
Goldstone, to whom the building of the whole tower is apparently
attributed in the following quaint passage from a mediaeval authority: "He
by the influence and help of those honourable men, Cardinal John Morton
and Prior William Sellyng, erected and magnificently completed that lofty
tower commonly called Angyll Stepyll in the midst of the church, between
the choir and the nave--vaulted with a most beautiful vault, and with
excellent and artistic workmanship in every part sculptured and gilt, with
ample windows glazed and ironed. He also with great care and industry
annexed to the columns which support the same tower two arches or
vaults of stone work, curiously carved, and four smaller ones, to assist
in sustaining the said tower" ("Ang. Sac." i. 147, translated by Professor
Willis). The western front of the cathedral is flanked by two towers of
great beauty; a point in which Mediaeval architecture has risen above that
of all other ages is the skill which it displays in the use of towers of
different heights, breaking the dull straight line of the roof and
carrying the eye gradually up to the loftiest point of the building.
Canterbury presents an excellent example of the beauty of this
subordination of lower towers to the chief; we invite the visitor, when
looking at the exterior, to compare it mentally, on the one hand, with the
dull severity of the roof line of a Greek temple, and on the other, to
take a fair example of modern so-called Gothic, with the ugly straight
line of the Houses of Parliament, as seen from the Lambeth Embankment,
broken only by the two stark and stiff erections at each end. The two
towers at the west end of Canterbury were not always uniform. At the
northern corner an old Norman tower formerly uplifted a leaden spire one
hundred feet high. This rather anomalous arrangement must have had a
decidedly lopsided effect, and it is probable that the appearance of the
cathedral was changed very much for the better when the spire, which had
been taken down in 1705, was replaced by Mr. Austin in 1840, by a tower
uniform with the southernmost tower, called the Chicele or Oxford steeple:
this tower was completed by Prior Goldstone, who, during his tenure of
office from 1449-68, also built the Lady Chapel. On its south side stands
the porch, with a remarkable central niche, which formerly contained a
representation of Becket's martyrdom. The figures of the Archbishop's
assassins now no longer remain; but their place has been filled up with
figures of various worthies who have lived under the shadow of the
cathedral. Dean Alford suggested, about 1863, that the many vacant niches
should be peopled in this manner, and since then the work has proceeded
steadily. The western towers are built each of six stages: each of the two
upper tiers contains two two-light windows, while below there is a large
four-light window uniform with the windows of the aisles. The base tier is
ornamented with rich panelling. The parapet is battlemented and the angles
are finished with fine double pinnacles. At the west end there is a large
window of seven lights, with three transoms. The gable contains a window
of very curious shape, filled with intricate tracery. The space above the
aisle windows is ornamented with quatrefoiled squares, and the clerestory
is pierced by windows of three lights. In the main transept there is a
fine perpendicular window of eight lights; the choir, or south-east
transept, has a Norman front, with arcades, and a large round window; also
an arcaded west turret surmounted by a short spire. Beyond this, the line
is again broken by the projection of St. Anselm's so-called Tower; this
chapel hardly merits such a title, unless we adopt the theory that it, and
the corresponding building on the north side, were at one time a good deal
more lofty, but lost their upper portions at the time of the great fire.
The end of the cathedral has a rather untidy appearance, owing to the fact
that the exterior of the corona was never completed. On the northern side
the building is so closely interwoven with the cloister and monastic
buildings that it can only be considered in conjunction with them. The
length of the cathedral is 514 feet, the height of the central tower 235
feet, and that of the western towers 130 feet.
The chief interest of ancient buildings to the ordinary observer, as apart
from the architectural specialist, is the fact that they are after all the
most authentic documents in our possession from which we can gain any
insight into the lives and modes of thought of our ancestors. To tell us
how ordinary men lived and busied themselves is beneath the dignity of
history. As Carlyle says: "The thing I want to see is not Redbook Lists,
and Court Calendars, and Parliamentary Registers, but the _Life of Man_ in
England: what men did, thought, suffered, enjoyed; ... Mournful, in truth,
is it to behold what the business 'called History' in these so enlightened
and illuminated times, still continues to be. Can you gather from it, read
till your eyes go out, any dimmest shadow of an answer to that great
question: How men lived and had their being; were it but economically, as,
what wages they got, and what they bought with these? Unhappily they
cannot.... History, as it stands all bound up in gilt volumes, is but a
shade more instructive than the wooden volumes of a backgammon-board."
Most of us have felt, at one time or another, the truth of these words,
though it is only fair to add that the fault lies not so much at the door
of the modern historian as of our ancestors themselves, who were too busy
with fighting and revelling to leave any but the most meagre account of
their own lives behind them; so that "Redbook Lists and Parliamentary
Registers" are all that the veracious chronicler, who will not let his
imagination run riot, can find to put before us. But happily, in the
wildest days of the Middle Ages, there were found some peace-loving souls
who preferred to drone away their lives in quiet meditation behind the
walls of the great monasteries, undisturbed by the clash of swords. Some
outlet had to be found for their innate energies and their intense
religious enthusiasm; missionary zeal had not yet been invented, and the
writing of books would have seemed to them a waste of good parchment, for
in their eyes the Scriptures and the Aristotelian writings supplied all
the food that the most voracious intellect could crave for. So they
applied all their genius--and it is probable that the flower of the
European race, as far as intelligence and culture are concerned, was
gathered in those days into the Church--and all the ecstatic fervour of
their religious devotion, the strength of which men of these latter days
can hardly realize, to the construction of beautiful buildings for the
worship of God. They have written a history in stone, from which a
thoughtful student can supply much that is left out by the dry-as-dust
annalists, for it is not only the history, but the actual result and
expression, of the lives of the most gifted men of the Middle Ages.
If we would read this history aright it is necessary that we should look
at it as far as possible, as it was originally published. If the old
binding has been torn off, and the volume hedged in by a crowd of modern
literature, we must try to put these aside and consider the book as it was
first issued; in other words, to drop metaphor altogether, in considering
a building like Canterbury Cathedral, we must forget the busy little
country town, with its crowded streets and noisy railway stations, though,
from one point of view, the contrast that they present is agreeable and
valuable, and try to conceive the church as it once stood, the centre of a
harmonious group of monastic buildings.
The founder of the monastic system in the West was the famous Benedict of
Nursia, who had adapted the strict code of St. Basil, mitigating its
severity, and making it more in accordance with the climate, manners,
and general circumstances of Western peoples. His code was described by
Gregory the Great as "excellent in its discretion, lucid in its
expression"--_discretione praecipuam sermone luculentam_. He founded the
monasteries of Montecassino and Subiaco in the beginning of the sixth
century. In the ninth and tenth centuries--the worst period of the Dark
Ages--corruption and laxity pervaded society in general, and the
Benedictine monasteries especially. At the end of this deplorable epoch
many efforts were made in the direction of reform. Gregory the Great
himself was a member of the Benedictine brotherhood; so also was
Augustine, who founded the great monastery of Christ Church. The venerable
Bede relates that "when Augustine, the first Archbishop of Canterbury,
assumed the episcopal throne in that royal city, he recovered therein,
by the king's assistance, a church which, as he was told, had been
constructed by the original labour of Roman believers. This church he
consecrated in the name of the Saviour, our God and Lord Jesus Christ, and
there he established an habitation for himself and all his successors."
This was the Basilica-Church, mentioned in an earlier part of this work,
an imitation of the original Basilica of St. Peter at Rome. Augustine's
monastery was handsomely endowed. A large stretch of country was given to
the monks, and they were the first who brought the soil into cultivation,
and built churches and preached in them. "The monks," says Bede, "were the
principal of those who came to the work of preaching." In the city itself
there were thirty-two "mansurae" or mansions, held by the clergy, rendering
35_s._ a year, and a mill worth 5_s._ per annum. Augustine's monastery
lived and prospered--though, as we shall see, it did not escape the
general corruption of the eighth and ninth centuries--until the time of
the Norman invasion. In 1067 a fire destroyed the Saxon cathedral and the
greater part of the monastic buildings. But the year 1070 marks an epoch
in the history of the monastery, for it was then that William the
Conqueror having deposed Stigand, the Saxon Primate, invited Lanfranc, the
Abbot of Caen, to accept the vacant see. He "being overcome by the will of
God as much as by the apostolic authority, passed over into England, and,
not forgetful of the object for which he had come, directed all his
endeavours to the correction of the manners of his people, and settling
the state of the Church. And first he laboured to renew the church of
Canterbury ... and built also necessary offices for the use of the monks;
and (which is very remarkable) he caused to be brought over the sea in
swift sailing vessels squared stones from Caen in order to build with. He
also built a house for his own dwelling near the church, and surrounded
all these buildings with a vast and lofty wall." Also "he duly arranged
all that was necessary for the table and clothing of the monks," and "many
lands which had been taken away he brought back into the property of the
Church and restored to it twenty-five manors." He also added one hundred
to the original number of the monks, and drew up a new system of
discipline to correct the laxity which was rife when he entered on the
primacy. He tells Anselm in a letter that "the land in which he is, is
daily shaken with so many and so great tribulations, is stained with so
many adulteries and other impurities, that no order of men consults for
the benefit of his soul, or even desires to hear the salutary doctrine of
God for his increase in holiness." Perhaps the most interesting feature of
his reconstruction of the "regula," or rule for the monks' discipline, was
his enactment with regard to the library and the studies of the brethren.
In the first week in Lent, the monks had to bring back and place in the
Chapter House the books which had been provided for their instruction
during the previous year. Those who had not duly performed the yearly
portion of reading prostrated themselves, confessing their fault and
asking pardon. A fresh distribution was then made, and the brethren
retired, each furnished with a year's literary task. Apparently no
examination was held, no test applied to discover whether the last year's
instruction had been digested and assimilated. It was assumed that
anything like a perfunctory performance of the allotted task was out
of the question.
Another important alteration introduced by Lanfranc was his inauguration
of the system under which the monastery was in immediate charge, no longer
of the archbishop, but of a prior. Henceforward the primate stood forth as
the head of the Church, rather than as merely the chief of her most
ancient foundation.
We have dwelt at some length on the subject of the monastery at
Canterbury, because, as we have said, it is impossible to learn the
lesson of the cathedral truly, unless we regard the fabric in its original
setting, surrounded by monastic buildings; and it is impossible to
interest ourselves in the monastic buildings without knowing something of
the institution which they housed.
[Illustration: DETAIL OF ST. ANSELM'S TOWER.]
The buildings which contained a great #monastery# like that of Canterbury
were necessarily very extensive. Chief among them was the chapter house,
which generally adjoined the principal cloister, bounded by the nave of
the church and one of the transepts. Then there were the buildings
necessary for the actual housing and daily living of the monks--the
dormitory, refectory, kitchen, buttery, and other indispensable offices.
Another highly important building, usually standing eastward of the
church, was the infirmary or hospital for sick brethren, with its chapel
duly attached. Further, the rules of Benedictine monasteries always
enjoined the strict observance of the duty of hospitality, and some part
of the buildings was invariably set aside for the due entertainment of
strangers of various ranks. Visitors of distinction were entertained in
special rooms which generally were attached to the house of the prior or
abbot: guests of a lower order were lodged hard by the hall of the
cellarer; while poor pilgrims and chance wanderers who craved a night's
shelter were bestowed, as a rule, near the main gate of the monastery.
Lastly, it must not be forgotten that a well-endowed monastery was always
the steward of a great estate, so that many storehouses and
farm-buildings--barns, granaries, bakehouse, etc.--were a necessary part
of the institution. Extensive stabling was also required to shelter the
horses of illustrious visitors and their suites. Moreover, the clergy
themselves were often greatly addicted to the chase, and we know that the
pious St. Thomas found time to cultivate a taste for horseflesh, which was
remarkable even in those days when all men who wanted to move at all were
bound to ride. The knights who murdered him thought it worth while to
pillage his stable after accomplishing their errand.
[Illustration: THE CHRISTCHURCH GATE
(FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY CARL NORMAN AND CO).]
The centre round which all these manifold buildings and offices were
ranged was, of course, the cathedral. Wherever available space and the
nature of the ground permitted it, the cloister and chief buildings were
placed under the shelter of the church on its southern side, as may be
seen, for instance, at Westminster, where the cloisters, chapter house,
deanery, refectory (now the College Hall), etc., are all gathered on the
south side of the Abbey. At Canterbury, however, the builders were not
able to follow the usual practice, owing to the fact that they were hemmed
in closely by the houses of the city on the south side, so that we find
that the space between the north side of the cathedral and the city wall,
all of which belonged to the monks, was the site of the monastic
buildings. The whole group formed by the cathedral and the subsidiary
buildings was girt by a massive wall, which was restored and made more
effective as a defence by Lanfranc. It is probable that some of the
remains of this wall, which still survive, may be considered as dating
from his time. The chief gate, both in ancient and modern days, is Prior
Goldstone's Gate, usually known as #Christ Church Gate#, an exceedingly
good example of the later Perpendicular style. A contemporary inscription
tells us that it was built in 1517. It stands at the end of Mercery Lane,
a lofty building with towers at its corners, and two storeys above the
archway. In front there is a central niche, in which an image of our
Saviour originally stood, while below a row of shields, much battered and
weather-beaten, display armorial bearings, doubtless those of pious
contributors to the cost of the building. An early work of Turner's has
preserved the corner pinnacles which once decorated the top of the gate;
these were removed some thirty years ago.
[Illustration: THE SOUTH-WEST PORCH OF THE CATHEDRAL.]
[Illustration: CLOISTERS OF THE MONKS' INFIRMARY.]
Entering the precincts through this gateway we find ourselves in what was
the _outer_ cemetery, in which members of the laity were allowed to be
buried. The _inner_ cemetery, reserved as a resting-place for the brethren
themselves, was formerly divided from the outer by a wall which extended
from St. Anselm's chapel. A Norman door, which was at one time part of
this wall, has now been put into a wall at the east end of the monks'
burying ground. This space is now called "The Oaks." A bell tower,
_campanile_, doubtless used for tolling the passing bell, once stood on a
mound in the cemetery, close to the dividing wall. The houses on the south
side of this space are of no great antiquity or interest, and the site on
which they stand did not become part of the monastery grounds before a
comparatively late period. But if we skirt the east end of the cathedral
we come to the space formerly known as the "Homors," a word supposed to be
a corruption of _Ormeaux_, a French word, meaning elms.[1] Here stood the
building in which guests of rank and distinction were entertained; and the
great hall, with its kitchen and offices, is still preserved in a house in
the north-east corner of the inclosure, now the residence of one of the
prebendaries. The original building was one of great importance in a
monastery like Canterbury, which was so often visited, as has already been
shown, by royal pilgrims. It is said to have been rebuilt from top to
bottom by Prior Chillenden, and the nature of the architecture, as far as
it can be traced, is not in any way at variance with this statement. The
hall, as it originally stood, was pierced with oriel windows rising to the
roof, and at its western end a walled-off portion was divided into two
storeys, the lower one containing the kitchens, while the upper one was
either a distinct room separated from the hall, or it may have been a
gallery opening upon it.
[1] Though it is also derived from one Dr. Omerus, who lived on the spot
in the thirteenth century.
To the west of this house we find the #ruins of the Infirmary#, which
contained a long hall with aisles, and a chapel at the east end. The hall
was used as the hospital, and the aisles were sometimes divided into
separate compartments; the chapel was really part of the hall, with only a
screen intervening, so that the sick brethren could take part in the
services. This infirmary survived until the Reformation period, but not
without undergoing alterations. Before the fifteenth century the south
aisle was devoted to the use of the sub-prior, and the chancel at the east
end of the chapel was partially restored about the middle of the
fourteenth century. A large east window was put in with three-light
windows on each side. In the north wall there is a curious opening,
through which, perhaps, sufferers from infectious diseases were allowed to
assist at the services. On the southern side, the whole row of the pillars
and arches of the chapel, and some traces of a clerestory, still remain.
On the wall are some traces of paintings, which are too faded to be
deciphered. Such of the pillars and arches of the hall as still survive
are strongly coloured by the great fire of 1174, in which Prior Conrad's
choir was destroyed.
[Illustration: RUINS OF THE MONKS' INFIRMARY.]
[Illustration: THE BAPTISTERY TOWER.]
Westward of the infirmary, and connected with St. Andrew's tower, stands a
strikingly beautiful building, which was once #the Vestiarium, or
Treasury#: it consists of two storeys, of which the lower is open on the
east and west, while the upper contained the treasury chamber, a finely
proportioned room, decorated with an arcade of intersecting arches.
An archway leads us from the infirmary into what is called the Dark Entry,
whence a passage leads to the Prior's Gate and onward into the Prior's
Court, more commonly known as the Green Court: this passage was the
eastern boundary of the infirmary cloister. Over it Prior de Estria
raised the _scaccarium_, or checker-building, the counting-house of
the monastery.
Turning back towards the infirmary entrance we come to #the Lavatory
Tower#, which stands out from the west end of the substructure of the
Prior's Chapel. The chapel itself was pulled down at the close of the
seventeenth century, and a brick-built library was erected on its site.
The lavatory tower is now more commonly called the baptistery, but this
name gives a false impression, and only came into use because the building
now contains a font, given to the cathedral by Bishop Warner. The lower
part of the tower is late Norman in style, and was built in the latter half
of the twelfth century, when the monastery was supplied with a system of
works by which water was drawn from some distant springs, which still
supply the cathedral and precincts. The water was distributed from this
tower to the various buildings. The original designs of the engineer are
preserved at Trinity College, Cambridge. The upper part of the tower was
rebuilt by Prior Chillenden.
From the lavatory tower a covered passage leads into the great cloister,
which can also be approached from a door in the north-west transept. The
cloister, though it stands upon the space covered by that built by
Lanfranc, is largely the work of the indefatigable Prior Chillenden. It
shows traces of many architectural periods. The east walk contains a door,
leading into the transept, embellished with a triple arcade of early
English; under the central arch of the arcade is the doorway itself, a
later addition in Perpendicular. There is also a Norman doorway which once
communicated with the monks' dormitory: after the Reformation it was
walled up, but in 1813 the plaster which concealed it was taken away, and
since then it has been carefully restored. The rest of the work in this
part of the cloister is chiefly Perpendicular. The north walk is adorned
with an Early English arcade, against which the shafts which support
Chillenden's vaulting work are placed with rather unsatisfactory effect.
Towards the western end of this walk is the door of the refectory.
[Illustration: TURRET OF SOUTH-WEST TRANSEPT.]
The cellarer's quarters were outside the west walk, and they were
connected with the cloister by a doorway at the north-west corner:
opposite this entrance was a door leading to the archbishop's palace, and
through this Becket made his way towards the cathedral when his murderers
were in pursuit of him.
The great dormitory of the monks was built along the east walk of the
cloister, extending some way beyond it. It was pulled down in 1547, but
the substructure was left standing, and some private houses were erected
upon it. These were removed in the middle of the last century, and a good
deal of the substructure remained until 1867, when the vaulting which
survived was pulled down to make way for the new library, which was
erected on the dormitory site. Some of the pillars on which the vault of
the substructure rested are preserved in a garden in the precincts; and a
fragment of the upper part of the dormitory building, which escaped the
demolition in 1547, may be seen in the gable of the new library. The
substructure was a fine building, 148 feet by 78 feet; the vaulting was,
as described by Professor Willis, "of the earliest kind; constructed of
light tufa, having no transverse ribs, and retaining the impressions of
the rough, boarded centring upon which they had been formed." A second
minor dormitory ran eastward from the larger one, while outside this was
the third dormitory, fronting the Green Court. Some portion of the vaults
of this building is still preserved in the garden before the lavatory
tower.
#The Chapter House# lies eastward of the wall of the cloister, on the site
of the original Norman building, which was rather less extensive. The
present structure is oblong in shape, measuring 90 feet by 35 feet. The
roof consists of a "barrel vault" and was built by Prior Chillenden, along
with the whole of the upper storey at the end of the fourteenth century.
The windows, high and four-lighted, are also his work; those at the east
and west ends exceed in size all those of the cathedral, having seven
lights. The lower storey was built by Prior de Estria about a century
before the work was completed by Chillenden. De Estria also erected the
choir-screen in the cathedral, which will be described in its proper
place. The walls of the chapter house are embellished with an arcade of
trefoiled arches, surmounted by a cornice. At the east end stands a throne
with a splendid canopy. This building was at one time, after the
Reformation, used as a sermon house, but the inconvenience caused by
moving the congregation from the choir, where service was held, across to
the chapter house to hear the discourse, was so great that the practice
was not long continued. It has been restored, and its opening by H.R.H.
the Prince of Wales, May 29th, 1897, is announced just as this edition
goes to press.
[Illustration: THE CLOISTERS.]
#The Library# covers a portion of the site of the monks' dormitory. Stored
within it is a fine collection of books, some of which are exceedingly
rare. The most valuable specimens--among which are some highly interesting
bibles and prayer-books--are jealously guarded in a separate apartment
called the study. The most interesting document in the collection of
charters and other papers connected with the foundation is the charter of
Edred, probably written by Dunstan _propriis digitorum articulis_; this
room also contains an ancient picture of Queen Edgiva painted on wood,
with an inscription below enlarging on the beauties of her character and
her munificence towards the monastery.
In the garden before the lavatory tower, to the west of the prior's
gateway, two columns are preserved which once were part of the ancient
church at Reculver--formerly Regulbium, whither Ethelbert retired after
making over his palace in Canterbury to Augustine. These columns were
brought to Canterbury after the destruction, nearly a hundred years ago,
of the church to which they belonged. After lying neglected for some time
they were placed in their present position by Mr. Sheppard, who bestowed
so much care on all the "antiquities" connected with the cathedral. These
columns are believed by experts to be undoubted relics of Roman work: they
are of circular form with Ionic capitals. A curious ropework decoration on
the bases is said to be characteristically Roman, occurs on a monument
outside the Porta Maggiore at Rome.
#The Deanery# is a very much revised version of what once was the "New
Lodging," a building set up for the entertainment of strangers by Prior
Goldstone at the beginning of the sixteenth century. Nicholas Wotton, the
first Dean, chose this mansion for his abode, but since his day the
building has been very materially altered.
[Illustration: NORMAN STAIRCASE IN THE CLOSE
(FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY CARL NORMAN AND CO.).]
[Illustration: DETAILS OF THE NORMAN STAIRCASE IN THE CLOSE.]
The main gate of the #Green Court# is noticeable as a choice specimen of
Norman work; on its northern side formerly stood the Aula Nova which was
built in the twelfth century; the modern buildings which house the King's
School have supplanted the hall itself, but the splendid staircase, a
perfect example of Norman style and quite unrivalled in England, is
luckily preserved, and ranks among the chief glories of Canterbury.
The site of the archbishop's palace is commemorated by the name of the
street--Palace Street--in which a ruined archway, all that remains of the
building, may still be seen. This mansion, in which so many royal and
imperial guests had been entertained with "solemne dauncing" and other
good cheer, was pillaged and destroyed by the Puritans; since then the
archbishops have had no official house in their cathedral city.
[Illustration: DETAILS OF ORNAMENT.]