INTERIOR.
Dean Stanley tells us that in the days of our Saxon forefathers and for
some time after, "all disputes throughout the whole kingdom that could not
be legally referred to the king's court or to the hundreds of counties"
were heard and judged on in the south porch of Canterbury Cathedral. This
was always the principal entrance, and was known in early days as the
"Suthdure" by which name it is often mentioned in "the law books of the
ancient kings." Through this door we enter the nave of the cathedral; this
part of the building was erected towards the end of the fourteenth
century; Lanfranc's nave seems to have fallen into an unsafe and ruinous
state, so much so that in December, 1378, Sudbury, who was then
archbishop, "issued a mandate addressed to all ecclesiastical persons in
his diocese enjoining them to solicit subscriptions for rebuilding the
nave of the church, '_propter ipsius notoriam et evidentem ruinam_' and
granting forty days' indulgence to all contributors." Archbishop Courtenay
gave a thousand marks and more for the building fund, and Archbishop
Arundell gave a similar contribution, as well as the five bells which were
known as the "Arundell ryng." We are told also that "King Henry the 4th
helped to build up a good part of the Body of the Chirch." The immediate
direction of the work was in the hands of Prior Chillenden, already
frequently mentioned; his epitaph, quoted by Professor Willis, states that
"Here lieth Thomas Chyllindene formerly Prior of this Church, _Decretorum
Doctor egregius_, who caused the nave of this Church and divers other
buildings to be made anew. Who after nobly ruling as prior of this Church
for twenty years twenty five weeks and five days, at length on the day of
the assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary closed his last day. In the
year of the Lord 1411." It is not certain that Chillenden actually
designed the buildings which were erected under his care, with which his
name is connected. For we know that work which was conceived and executed
by humble monks was ascribed as a matter of course to the head of the
monastery, under whose auspices and sanction it was carried out. Matthew
Paris records that a new oaken roof, well covered with lead, was built for
the aisles and tower of St. Alban's by Michael of Thydenhanger, monk and
_camerarius_; but he adds that "these works must be ascribed to the abbot,
out of respect for his office, for he who sanctions the performance of a
thing by his authority, is really the person who does the thing." Prior
Chillenden became prior in 1390, and seems at any rate to have devoted a
considerable amount of zeal to the work of renovating the ruined portions
of the church.
[Illustration: THE MURDER OF ST. THOMAS A BECKET.
(Restoration, by T. Carter, of a painting on board hung on a column near
the tomb of Henry IV.).]
[Illustration: THE SHRINE OF ST. THOMAS A BECKET.
(Specially reproduced from a drawing among the Cottonian MSS. Brit. Mus.)]
The new #Nave# replaced the original building of Lanfranc. Professor Willis
says: "The whole of Lanfranc's piers, and all that rested on them, appear
to have been utterly demolished, nothing remaining but the plinth of the
side-aisle walls.... The style [of Chillenden's new work] is a light
Perpendicular, and the arrangement of the parts has a considerable
resemblance to that of the nave of Winchester, although the latter is of a
much bolder character. Winchester nave was going on at the same time with
Canterbury nave, and a similar uncertainty exists about the exact
commencement. In both, a Norman nave was to be transformed; but at
Winchester the original piers were either clothed with new ashlaring, or
the old ashlaring was wrought into new forms and mouldings where possible;
while in Canterbury the piers were altogether rebuilt. Hence the piers of
Winchester are much more massive. The side-aisles of Canterbury are higher
in proportion, the tracery of the side windows different, but those of the
clerestory are almost identical in pattern, although they differ in the
management of the mouldings. Both have 'lierne' vaults [_i.e._, vaults in
which short transverse ribs or 'liernes' are mixed with the ribs that
branch from the vaulting capitals], and in both the triforium is obtained
by prolonging the clerestory windows downward, and making panels of the
lower lights, which panels have a plain opening cut through them, by which
the triforium space communicates with the passage over the roof of the
side-aisles." Chillenden, then, setting to work with the thoroughness
that marks his handiwork throughout, rebuilt the nave from top to bottom,
leaving nothing of Lanfranc's original structure save the "plinth of the
side-aisle walls," which still remains. The resemblance between the naves
of Canterbury and Winchester, pointed out by Professor Willis, will at
once strike a close observer, though the greater boldness of character
shown in the Winchester architecture is by no means the only point of
difference. The most obvious feature in the Canterbury nave--a point which
renders its arrangement unique among the cathedrals both of England and
the Continent--is the curious manner in which the choir is raised aloft
above the level of the floor; this is owing to the fact that it stands
immediately above the crypt; the flight of steps which is therefore
necessarily placed between the choir and the nave adds considerably to the
general effect of our first view of the interior. On the other hand, the
raising of the choir is probably to some extent responsible for the great
height of the nave in comparison with its length, a point which spoils its
effectiveness when we view it from end to end. Stanley, in describing the
entrance of the pilgrims into the cathedral, points out how different a
scene must have met their eyes. "The external aspect of the cathedral
itself," he says, "with the exception of the numerous statues which then
filled its now vacant niches, must have been much what it is now. Not so
its interior. Bright colours on the roof, on the windows, on the
monuments; hangings suspended from the rods which may still be seen
running from pillar to pillar; chapels, and altars, and chantries
intercepting the view, where now all is clear, must have rendered it so
different, that at first we should hardly recognize it to be the same
building." The pilgrims on entering were met by a monk, who sprinkled
their heads with holy water from a "sprengel," and, owing to the crowd of
devout visitors, they generally had to wait some time before they could
proceed towards a view of the shrine. Chaucer relates that the "pardoner,
and the miller, and other lewd sots," whiled away the time with staring at
the painted windows which then adorned the nave, and wondering what they
were supposed to represent:
"'He beareth a ball-staff,' quoth the one, 'and also a rake's end;'
'Thou failest,' quoth the miller, 'thou hast not well thy mind;
It is a spear, if thou canst see, with a prick set before,
To push adown his enemy, and through the shoulder bore.'"
[Illustration: CAPITALS OF COLUMNS IN THE EASTERN APSE.]
None of these windows now remain entire, though the west window has been
put together out of fragments of the ancient glass. The latter-day
pilgrims will do well to look as little as possible at the hideous glass
which the Philistinism of modern piety has inserted, during the last
half-century, in the windows of the clerestory and the nave. Its obtrusive
unpleasantness make one wish that "Blue Dick" and his Puritan troopers
might once more be let loose, under judicious direction, for half an hour
on the cathedral. When Erasmus visited Canterbury, the nave contained
nothing but some books chained to the pillars, among them the "Gospel of
Nicodemus"--printed by Wynkyn de Worde in 1509--and the "tomb of some
person unknown." The last words must refer either to the chapel in the
south wall, which was built by Lady Joan Brenchley in 1447, and removed in
1787, or to the monument of Archbishop William Wittlesey, who died in
1374, and was interred in the south side of the nave in a marble tomb with
a brass, now destroyed. At present the south aisle contains a monument, in
alabaster, to Dr. Broughton, sometime Bishop of Sydney, who was educated
in the King's School, under the shadow of the cathedral. The figure is
recumbent, and the base of the monument, which is by Lough, is decorated
with the arms of the six Australian sees. In the north aisle we find
monuments to Orlando Gibbons, Charles I.'s organist; Adrian Saravia,
prebendary of Canterbury, and the friend of Hooker, the author of the
"Ecclesiastical Polity;" Sir John Boys, who founded a hospital for the
poor outside the north gate of the town, and died in 1614; Dean Lyall, who
died in 1857; and Archbishop Sumner, who died in 1862. These last two
monuments are by Phillips and H. Weekes, R.A., respectively.
#The Central Tower.#--In the nave the whole of Lanfranc's work was
destroyed, but in the central tower, which we will next examine, the
original supporting piers were left standing, though they were covered
over by Prior Chillenden with work more in keeping with the style in which
he had renewed the nave. "Of the tower piers," says Willis, "the western
are probably mere casings of the original, and the eastern certainly
appendages to the original.... Of course I have no evidence to show how
much of Lanfranc's piers was allowed to remain in the heart of the work.
The interior faces of the tower walls appear to have been brought forward
by a lining so as to increase their thickness and the strength of the
piers, with a view to the erection of a lofty tower, which however was not
carried above the roof until another century had nearly elapsed." It was
Prior Goldstone the second who, about 1500, carried upward the central
tower, which Chillenden seems to have left level with the roof of the
cathedral. "With the countenance and help of Cardinal John Morton and
Prior William Sellyng he magnificently completed that lofty tower
commonly called Angyll Stepyll in the middle of the church. The vaulting
of the tower is his work--_testudine pulcherrima concameratam
consummavit_--and he also added the buttressing arches--with great care
and industry he annexed to the columns which support the same tower two
arches or vaults of stonework, curiously carved, and four smaller ones, to
assist in sustaining the said tower." The addition of these buttressing
arches, not altogether happy in its artistic effect, was probably rendered
necessary by some signs of weakness shown by the piers of the tower, for
the north-west pier, which was not so substantially reinforced as the
others, now shows a considerable bend in an eastward direction. The "two
arches or vaults of stonework" were inserted under the western and
southern tower arches. "The eastern arch having stronger piers did not
require this precaution, and the northern, which opened upon the
'Martyrium,' seems to have been left free, out of reverence to the altar
of the martyrdom, and accordingly to have suffered the dislocation just
mentioned." The four smaller arches connected the two western tower-piers
with the nearest nave-pier and the wall of the transept. The buttressing
arches are strongly built, and are adorned with curious bands of
reticulated work. The central western arch occupies the place of the
rood-loft, and it is probable that until the Reformation the great rood
was placed over it. The rebus of Prior Thomas Goldstone--a shield with
three gold stones--is carved upon these arches.
#The Western Screen#, which separates the nave from the choir, is now more
commonly known as the organ-screen: it is a highly elaborate and beautiful
piece of work, and the carvings which decorate it are well worthy of
examination. In the lower niches there are six crowned figures: one
holding a church is believed to be Ethelbert, while it has been assumed
that the figure on the extreme right represents Richard II.: probably
Henry IV., who, as has been already mentioned, "helped to build a good
part of the body of the Church" has a place of honour here, but no
certainty on this matter is possible. The thirteen mitred niches which
encircle the arch once contained figures of Christ and the twelve
Apostles, but these were destroyed by the Puritans. The exact date of this
outward screen is uncertain, but it was set up at some time during the
fifteenth century. "A little examination," says Willis, "of its central
archway will detect the junction of this new work with the stone enclosure
of the choir." In fact, this archway is considerably higher than that of
De Estria which still remains behind it. The apex of this arch reaches but
a little above the capitals of the new arch, and the flat space, or
tympanum, thus left between the two, is filled with Perpendicular tracery.
#The Choir.#--"In the year of grace one thousand one hundred and
seventy-four, by the just but occult judgment of God, the Church of Christ
at Canterbury was consumed by fire, in the forty-fourth year from its
dedication, that glorious choir, to wit, which had been so magnificently
completed by the care and industry of Prior Conrad" ("Gervase," translated
by Willis). The work of rebuilding was immediately begun by William, the
architect of Sens. At the beginning of the fifth year of his work, he was,
by a fall from the height of the capitals of the upper vault, "rendered
helpless alike to himself and for the work, but no other person than
himself was in the least injured. Against the master only was the
vengeance of God or spite of the devil directed." He was succeeded in his
charge by one "William by name, English by nation, small in body, but in
workmanship of many kinds acute and honest." Now in the sixth year from
the fire, we read that the monks were "seized with a violent longing to
prepare the choir, so that they might enter it at the coming Easter. And
the master, perceiving their desires, set himself manfully to work, to
satisfy the wishes of the convent. He constructed, with all diligence, the
wall which encloses the choir and presbytery. He carefully prepared a
resting-place for St. Dunstan and St. Elfege. The choir thus hardly
completed even with the greatest labour and diligence, the monks were
resolved to enter on Easter Eve with the 'new fire,'" that is, the
paschal candle which was lit on Easter Eve and burnt until Ascension Day.
The kindling of this light was carried out in a very ceremonious manner as
enjoined in Lanfranc's statutes. A fire was made in the cloister and duly
consecrated, and the monks, having lit a taper at this fire carried it on
the end of a staff in solemn procession, singing psalms and hymns and
burning incense, and lit the paschal candle in the choir with it.
Thus was the new choir completed, in the sixth year after the burning of
Conrad's. This part of the cathedral will be peculiarly interesting to the
architectural student, owing to the curious mixture of styles, which
enables him to compare the Norman and Early English characteristics side
by side. A striking feature in the aspect of the building, as seen from
the choir, is the remarkable inward bend with which the walls turn towards
one another at the end of the cathedral. The choir itself is peculiar in
the matter of length (180 feet--the longest in any English church), and
the lowness of the vaulting. The pillars, with their pier-arches and the
clerestory wall above are said by Willis to be without doubt the work of
William of Sens: but the whole question as to where the French William
left off and his English namesake began is extremely uncertain, as there
can be no doubt that William of Sens had fully planned out the work which
he was destined never to complete, and it is more than probable that his
successor worked largely upon his plans. We are on safer ground when we
assert that the new choir was altogether different from the building which
it replaced. The style was much more ornate and considerably lighter: the
characteristics of the work of the Williams are rich mouldings, varied and
elaborately carved capitals on the pillars, and the introduction of
gracefully slender shafts of Purbeck marble. Gervase, in pointing out the
differences between the works before and after the fire, mentions that
"the old capitals were plain, the new ones most artistically sculptured.
The old arches and everything else either plain or sculptured with an axe
and not with a chisel, but in the new work first rate sculpture abounded
everywhere. In the old work no marble shafts, in the new innumerable ones.
Plain vaults instead of ribbed behind the choir." "Sculptured with an
axe," reads rather curiously, but Professor Willis points out that "the
axe is not quite so rude a weapon in the hands of a mason as it might
appear at first sight. The French masons use it to the present day with
great dexterity in carving." The mouldings used by Ernulf were extremely
simple, and were decorated with a "peculiar and shallow class of notched
ornament", of which many examples exist in other buildings of the period;
while the mouldings of William of Sens "exhibit much variety, but are most
remarkable for the profusion of billet-work, zigzag and dogtooth, that are
lavished upon them." The first two methods of ornamentation are Norman,
the last an Early English characteristic. This mixture is not confined to
the details of decoration but may be observed also in the indiscriminate
employment of round and pointed arches. This feature, as Willis remarks,
"may have arisen either from the indifference of the artist as to the
mixture of forms or else from deliberate contrivance, for as he was
compelled, from the nature of his work, to retain round-headed arcades,
windows, and arches, in the side-aisles, and yet was accustomed to and
desirous of employing pointed arches in his new building, he might
discreetly mix some round-headed arches with them, in order to make the
contrast less offensive by causing the mixture of forms to pervade the
whole composition, as if an intentional principle."
[Illustration: THE CHOIR, LOOKING EAST
(FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY CARL NORMAN AND CO.).]
Whatever the motive, this daring mixture renders the study of the
architectural features of our cathedral peculiarly interesting. In the
triforium we find a semicircular outer arch circumscribing two inner
pointed ones. The clerestory arch is pointed, while some of the transverse
ribs of the great vault are pointed and some round.
The inward bend of the walls at the end of the choir was necessitated by
the fact that the towers of St. Anselm and St. Andrew had survived the
great fire of 1174. Naturally the pious builders did not wish to pull down
these relics of the former church, so that a certain amount of contraction
had to be effected in order that these towers should form part of the new
plan. This arrangement also fitted in with the determination to build a
chapel of the martyred St. Thomas at the end of the church, on the site of
the former Trinity Chapel. For the Trinity Chapel had been much narrower
than the new choir, but this contraction enabled the rebuilders to
preserve its dimensions.
#The Altar#, when the choir was at first completed by William, stood
entirely alone, and without a reredos; behind it the archbishop's chair
was originally placed, but this was afterwards transferred to the corona.
The remarkable height at which the altar was set up is due to the fact
that it is placed over the new crypt, which is a good deal higher than the
older, or western crypt. Before the Reformation the high altar was richly
embellished with all kinds of precious and sacred ornaments and vessels:
while beneath it, in a vault, were stored a priceless collection of gold
and silver vessels: such of these as escaped the rapacity of Henry VIII.
were destroyed by the bigotry of the Puritan zealots: the latter made
havoc of the reredos which had been erected behind the high altar,
probably during the fourteenth century, and also a "most idolatrous costly
glory cloth," the gift of Archbishop Laud. The reredos was replaced by a
Corinthian screen, which was of elaborate design, but must have been
strangely out of keeping with its surroundings; it was removed about 1870,
to make way for the present reredos which was designed in the style of the
screen work in the Lady Chapel in the crypt, but which cannot be commended
as an object of beauty. The altar coverings which are now in use were
presented to the cathedral by Queen Mary, the wife of William III., when
she visited Canterbury. A chalice, given by the Earl of Arundel in 1636,
is among the communion-plate. In his account of the building of the new
choir, Gervase tells us that "the Master carefully prepared a
resting-place for St. Dunstan and St. Elfege--the co-exiles of the monks."
When the choir was ready, "Prior Alan, taking with him nine of the
brethren of the Church in whom he could trust, went by night to the tombs
of the saints, so that he might not be incommoded by a crowd, and having
locked the doors of the church, he commanded the stone-work that inclosed
them to be taken down. The monks and the servants of the Church, in
obedience to the Prior's commands, took the structure to pieces, opened
the stone coffins of the saints, and bore their relics to the
_vestiarium_. Then, having removed the cloths in which they had been
wrapped, and which were half-consumed from age and rottenness, they
covered them with other and more handsome palls, and bound them with linen
bands. They bore the saints, thus prepared, to their altars, and deposited
them in wooden chests, covered within and without with lead: which chests,
thus lead-covered, and strongly bound with iron, were inclosed in
stone-work that was consolidated with melted lead." This translation
was thus carried out by Prior Alan on the night before the formal re-entry
into the choir: the rest of the monks, who had not assisted at the
ceremony, were highly incensed by the prior's action, for they had
intended that the translation of the fathers should have been performed
with great and devout solemnity. They even went so far as to cite the
prior and the trusty monks who had assisted him before the Archbishop, and
it was only by the intervention of the latter, and other men of authority,
and "after due apology and repentance," that harmony was restored in the
convent.
[Illustration: THE CHOIR BEFORE RESTORATION.]
The bones of St. Dunstan were long a cause of contention between the
churches of Canterbury and Glastonbury. The monks of Glastonbury
considered that they had a prior claim on the relics of the sainted
archbishop, and stoutly contended that his body had been conveyed to their
own sanctuary after the sack of Canterbury by the Danes; and they used to
exhibit a coffin as containing Dunstan's remains. But early in the
fourteenth century they went so far as to set up a gorgeous shrine in
which they placed, with much pomp and circumstance, the supposed relics.
Archbishop Warham, who then ruled at Canterbury, accordingly replied by
causing the shrine in our cathedral to be opened, and was able to declare
triumphantly that he had found therein the remains of a human body, in the
costume of an archbishop, with a plate of lead on his breast, inscribed
with the words "SANCTUS DUNSTANUS." In the course of the subsequent
correspondence which passed between the two monasteries, the Abbot of
Glastonbury, after trying to argue that perhaps part only of the saint's
relics had been conveyed to his church, at last frankly confesses "the
people had believed in the genuineness of their saint for so long, that he
is afraid to tell them the truth." This shrine of St. Dunstan stood on the
south of the high altar, and was erected after the manner of a tomb:
though the shrine itself perished at the time of the Reformation, there
still remains, on the south wall of the choir, between the monuments of
Archbishops Stratford and Sudbury, some very fine open diaper-work, in
what is known as the Decorated style, which once formed part of the
ornamentation of St. Dunstan's altar. The shrine of St. Elfege, or
Alphege, who was archbishop at the time of the sacking of Canterbury by
the Danes, and was murdered by them, has been altogether destroyed.
#The Choir Screen#, a solid structure of stone we know to be the work of
Prior de Estria, _i.e._, of Eastry in Kent, who was elected in 1285, and
died in 1331. According to the Obituary record, he "fairly decorated the
choir of the church with most beautiful stone-work cunningly carved." In
his Register there is an entry which evidently refers to the same work:
"Anno 1304-5. Reparation of the whole choir with three new doors and a new
screen (_pulpito_)." The three doors referred to are the north and south
entrances and the western one. It has already been pointed out that the
present western screen is a later addition. Professor Willis, whose great
work on the Architectural History of Canterbury Cathedral should be
studied by all who wish to examine the details of the building more
closely than is allowed by the scope of this work, describes De Estria's
screen as follows: "The lateral portions of this wall of enclosure are in
excellent order. In the western part of the choir, namely, between the
eastern transepts and the organ-screen, this wall is built so that its
inner face nearly ranges with the inner faces of the pillars; but eastward
of the transepts it is built between the pillars. The north doorway
remains perfect. The present south doorway, which is in a much later
style, is manifestly a subsequent insertion. This enclosure consists of a
solid wall, seven feet nine inches in height from the pavement of the
side-aisles. It has a stone-bench towards the side-aisles, and above that
a base, of the age of William of Sens; so that it is clear that the work
of De Estria belongs to the upper part only of the enclosure, which
consists of delicate and elaborately worked tracery, surmounted by an
embattled crest.... The entire work is particularly valuable on account
of its well-established date, combined with its great beauty and
singularity."
A portion of the choir-pavement, lying between the two transepts, is
interesting as being undoubtedly part of the original flooring of Conrad's
choir, and probably the only fragment of it that was left undisturbed
after the great fire which destroyed "that glorious choir which had been
so magnificently completed by the care and industry of Prior Conrad." This
part of the pavement consists of large slabs of a peculiar "stone, or
veined marble of a delicate brown colour. When parts of this are taken up
for repair or alteration, it is usual to find lead which has run between
the joints of the slabs and spread on each side below, and which is with
great reason supposed to be the effect of the fire of 1174, which melted
the lead of the roof, and caused it to run down between the paving stones
in this manner." It is said that when the choir was filled with pews in
1706, and it was necessary to remove part of the pavement, the men engaged
on the work picked up enough of this lead to make two large gluepots.
[Illustration: A MISERERE IN THE CHOIR.]
The original wooden #stalls of the choir# were described by the writer of a
book published in 1640. He relates that there were two rows on each side,
an upper and a lower, and that above the stalls on the south side stood
the archbishop's wooden chair, "sometime richly guilt, and otherwise
richly set forth, but now nothing specious through age and late neglect."
Perhaps the battered and shabby condition of this part of the cathedral
furniture accounts for its having survived the Puritan period; it is at
least certain that it remained untouched until 1704, when the refurnishing
of the choir was begun by Archbishop Tenison; he himself presented a
wainscoted throne with lofty Corinthian canopy adorned with carving by
Gibbons, while the altar, the pulpit, and the stalls for the dean and
vice-dean were provided with rich fittings by Queen Mary II. The tracery
of the screen was hidden by a lining of wainscoting, which was put before
it. This arrangement lasted little more than a century. In the time of
Archbishop Howley, who held office from 1828 to 1848, the wainscoting
which concealed the screen was taken away, and Archbishop Tenison's throne
has made way for a lofty canopy of tabernacle work. Some carved work,
which has been ascribed to Gibbons, still remains before the eastern front
of the screen, between the choir and the nave.
The position of the organ has been frequently shifted. In Conrad's choir
it was placed upon the vault of the south transept; afterwards it was set
up upon a large corbel of stone, over the arch of St. Michael in the same
transept. This corbel has now been removed; subsequently it was placed
between two pillars on the north side of the choir, and, later on, it was
again transferred to a position over the west door of the choir, the usual
place for the organ in cathedral churches; finally it has been
"ingeniously deposited out of sight in the triforium of the south aisle of
the choir; a low pedestal with its keys stands in the choir itself, so as
to place the organist close to the singers, as he ought to be, and the
communication between the keys and the organ is effected by trackers
passing under the pavement of the side aisles, and conducted up to the
triforium, through a trunk let into the south wall." This arrangement not
only secures the retirement from view of the organ, which, with its
tedious rows of straight and unsightly pipes, is generally more or less an
eyesore in cathedrals, but is said to have caused a great improvement in
the effect of its music. The present organ, which was built by Samuel
Green, is believed to have been used at the Handel Festival in Westminster
Abbey in 1784. It was enlarged by Hill in 1842, and entirely reconstructed
in 1886. In this connection we may mention that Archbishop Theodore first
introduced the ecclesiastical chant in Canterbury Cathedral.
The tombs in the choir are all occupied by famous archbishops and
cardinals. On the south side, hard by the site of the shrine of St.
Dunstan, is the tomb of Simon of Sudbury, who was archbishop from 1375 to
1381. He built the west gate of the city, and a great part of the town
walls; in consideration of these benefits the mayor and aldermen used at
one time to make an annual procession to his resting-place and offer
prayers for his soul. Outside Canterbury his acts were not regarded with
so much gratitude, for he was the inventor, or reviver, of the poll tax,
and was in consequence beheaded on Tower Hill by Wat Tyler and his
followers. Stanley relates that "not many years ago, when this tomb was
accidentally opened, the body was seen within, wrapped in cere-cloth, a
leaden ball occupying the vacant place of the head." Sudbury is also
famous as having spoken against the "superstitious" pilgrimages to St.
Thomas' shrine, and his violent death was accordingly attributed to the
avenging power of the incensed saint. Westward of his monument stands that
of Archbishop Stratford (1333-1348), who was Grand Justiciary to Edward
III. during his absence in Flanders, and won fame by his struggle with the
king. Between this tomb and the archbishop's throne lies Cardinal Kemp
(1452-1454), who was present at Agincourt in the camp of Henry V.; his
tomb is surmounted by a remarkable wooden canopy. Opposite, on the north
side, is the very interesting monument of Archbishop Henry Chichele
(1414-1443). Shakespeare tells us that he was the instigator of Henry V.'s
war with France, and it is supposed that out of remorse for this act he
built, during his lifetime, the curious tomb which now conceals his bones;
it is kept in repair by All Souls' College, which was founded by the
penitent archbishop that its fellows might pray for the souls of all who
had perished during the war; the effigy, in full canonicals, with its head
supported by angels, and with two monks holding open books, kneeling at
its feet, lies on the upper slab; and underneath is a ghastly figure in a
winding-sheet, supposed to represent the archbishop after death; the
diminutive figures which originally filled the niches were destroyed by
the Puritans, but have been to some extent replaced. The gaudy colours of
the tomb enable one to form some idea of the appearance of the churches in
the Middle Ages, when they were bedizened with painted images, hangings,
and frescoes: to judge from this specimen the effect must have been
distinctly tawdry. Further east we find the monument of Archbishop Howley;
he was chiefly remarkable as having crowned Queen Victoria and married her
to the Prince Consort, and his monument is noticeable as being the first
erected to an archbishop, in the cathedral, since the Reformation; he
himself lies at Addington. Beyond is a fine tomb well worthy of
examination, crowned by an elaborate canopy which shows traces of rough
usage at the hands of the restoring enthusiasts, who surrounded the choir
with classical wainscoting after the Restoration. It is the monument of
Archbishop Bourchier, a staunch supporter of the House of York; he was
primate for thirty-two years, from 1454 to 1486, and crowned Edward IV.,
Richard III., and Henry VII. The "Bourchier knot" is among the decorations
which enrich the canopy of his tomb.
#The South-East Transept.#--According to the present custom of the
Canterbury vergers, the visitor is led from the choir to the south-east
transept. "In the choir of Ernulf," says Willis, "the transepts were cut
off from the body by the continuity of the pier-arches and the wall above,
and each transept was therefore a separate room with a flat ceiling....
But in the new design of William the transepts were opened to the central
portion, and the triforium and clerestory of the choir were turned at
right angles to their courses, and thus formed the side walls of the
transepts.... The entire interior of the eastern transept has been most
skilfully converted from Ernulfian architecture to Willelmian (if I may be
allowed the phrase for the nonce). It was necessary that the triforium and
clerestory of the new design should be carried along the walls of these
transepts, which were before the fire probably ornamented by a
continuation of those of Ernulf. But the respective level of these
essential members were so different in the old and new works that the
only parts of them that could be retained were the windows of the old
clerestory, which falls just above the new triforium tablet, and
accordingly these old windows may still be seen in the triforia of the
transepts, surmounted by the new pointed clerestory windows. But the whole
of the arcade work and mouldings in the interior of these transepts
belongs to William of Sens, with the sole exception of the lower windows.
Even the arches which open from the east wall of these transepts to the
apses have been changed for pointed arches, the piers of which have a
singularly elegant base."
In the two apses of this transept altars to St. Gregory and St. John once
stood, and here were shrines of four Saxon primates. There is a window in
the south wall erected to the memory of Dean Alford; below it is the spot
on which the tomb of Archbishop Winchelsea (1294-1313) was placed. He was
famous for his contest with Edward I. concerning clerical subsidies, and
for having secured from the king the confirmation of the charter. He was
more practically endeared to the people by the generosity of his
almsgiving--it is said that he distributed two thousand loaves among the
poor every Sunday and Thursday when corn was dear, and three thousand when
it was cheap. His tomb was heaped with offerings like the shrine of a
saint, but the Pope refused to confirm the popular enthusiasm by
canonizing the archbishop; the fact, however, that it had been so
reverenced was enough to qualify it for destruction in the days of Henry
VIII. This transept is used at present as a chapel for the King's School,
a direct continuation of the monastery school, at which Archbishops
Winchelsea and Kemp were both educated. It contains the Corinthian throne
which was set up in the choir early in the last century.
#The South-West Choir Aisle.#--At the corner of this aisle we may notice
the arcade which shows the combination of the Norman rounded arch and
double zigzag ornamentation with the pointed arch and dogtooth tracery of
William. Here also are two tombs, which have given rise to a good deal of
speculation. The more easterly one used to be regarded as the monument of
Hubert Walter, who was chancellor to Richard Coeur de Lion and followed
him and Archbishop Baldwin to Palestine, and, on the death of the latter,
was made primate in the camp at Acre: it is thought more probable,
however, in the light of recent research, that he is buried in the Trinity
Chapel. The other tomb used to be the resting place of Archbishop
Reynolds, the favourite of Edward II., but it also affords food for
discussion, as there is no trace of the "pall"--a Y-shaped strip of lamb's
wool marked with crosses, a special mark of metropolitan dignity which was
sent to each primate by the Pope--on the vestments of the effigy. Hence
conjecture doubts whether these tombs are tenanted by archbishops at all,
and inclines to the theory that they contain the bones of two of the
Priors, perhaps of d'Estria. From this point we can notice the ingenious
apparatus connected with the organ.
#St. Anselm's Tower and Chapel.#--Proceeding eastward, towards the Trinity
Chapel, we pause to examine the chapel or tower of St. Anselm, which
corresponds to that of St. Andrew on the north side of the cathedral. Both
these chapels probably at one time were much more lofty, as they are
described as "lofty towers" by Gervase; it was in order to bring them into
the church, when it was reconstructed after the fire, that the eastward
contraction, which presents such a curious effect as seen from the choir,
was found necessary. They are now, as Willis points out, "only of the same
height as the clerestory of the Norman Church, to which they formed
appendages, and consequently they rose above the side-aisles of that
church as much as the clerestory did. The external faces of the inward
walls of these towers are now inclosed under the roof of William's
triforium, and it may be seen that they were once exposed to the weather."
The arches in St. Anselm's tower were originally set up by Ernulf, but
there is reason to believe that they were rebuilt after the great
conflagration. "The arch of communication," says Willis, "is a round
arch, at first sight plainly of the Ernulfian period, having plaited-work
capitals and mouldings with shallow hollows. A similar arch opens on the
eastern side of the tower into its apse. But a close examination will shew
that both these arches have undergone alteration.... I am inclined to
believe that both these arches were reset and reduced in space after the
fire, probably to increase their strength and that of their piers, on
account of the loss of abutment, when the circular wall of the choir-apse
was removed." The alterations that were made in these arches were probably
not important, and did not extend beyond the re-modelling of the mouldings
on the side of the arch towards the choir-aisle; for we may notice that
above both the arches we can still trace the notched decoration which is
peculiar to Ernulf's work. This chapel was originally dedicated to St.
Peter and St. Paul, and a very interesting relic of this saintly patronage
has lately been discovered. Apparently, in order to strengthen the
building, two of the three windows in the chapel were blocked up, and a
buttress was built across a chord of the apse, in the early part of the
thirteenth century. In the course of the restoration of the tower which
was recently carried out, this buttress was taken away, and its removal
laid bare a fresco painting, representing St. Paul and the viper at
Melita. This piece of decoration, as need hardly be said, must have been
put in before the construction of the buttress which has concealed and
preserved it for nearly seven centuries; it is conjectured, with a good
deal of reason, that a similar presentment of St. Paul
[Transcriber: St. Peter?] was painted at the same time on the opposite
wall, but as it had no buttress to protect it, it has been altogether
effaced. A copy of the fresco of St. Paul has been placed in the cathedral
library. The altar of SS. Peter and Paul stood at the east end, and behind
it was the tomb of the celebrated Archbishop Anselm, by whose name the
chapel is now commonly called. A very interesting feature of this tower
is a large and elaborate five-light window of the Decorated period. It
replaced the original south window of the chapel, and was inserted by
Prior d'Estria in 1336; it is remarkable as being one of the few instances
of Decorated architecture in the cathedral, and also because of the
detailed account that has been preserved of its erection and cost. The
passage in the archives runs as follows:--"Memorandum, that in the year
1336, there was made a new window in Christ Church, Canterbury, that is to
say, in the chapel of the Apostles St. Peter and St. Paul, upon which
there were expended the following sums:
_L s. d._
"Imprimis, for the workmanship, or labour of the
masons 21 17 9
Item, for the breaking down of the wall, where the
window now is 0 16 9
----for lime and gravel 1 0 0
----for 20 cwt. of iron bought for said window 4 4 0
----for the labour of the smiths 3 5 4
----for Caen stone bought for same 5 0 0
----for glass and the labour of the glaziers 6 13 4
-----------
Total 42 17 2."
On the heads of the lights of this window were pendent bosses, like those
of the door in the choir-screen, which, as has been said, was also the
work of Prior de Estria. These bosses and the stones from which they were
suspended, have altogether disappeared, otherwise the internal tracery of
the window is in good preservation. "The outside, however, is in a very
bad condition for the purpose of the antiquarian; for, apparently on
account of the decayed state of its surface, the tracery has undergone the
process of splitting, namely, the whole of the outer part has been faced
down to the glass, and fresh worked in Portland stone; Portland stone
mullions, or _monials_ as they are more properly called, have also been
supplied. And as this repair was executed at a period when this class of
architecture was ill understood, the mouldings were very badly wrought,
which, with the unfortunate colour and surface of the Portland stone, has
given the window a most ungenuine air. However, the interior is as good as
ever it was, and it is on account of its date, as well as for its beauty,
a most valuable example" (Willis).
The insertion of the window in question probably had the effect of
weakening the walls of the chapel; at any rate they show signs of a
tendency to settle. Beneath it is the tomb of Archbishop Bradwardine, a
great scholar and divine, whose primacy only lasted three months. Opposite
to him lies Simon de Mepeham--archbishop from 1328 to 1333--whose tomb
forms the screen of the chapel. It is a black marble monument well worthy
of examination, with a double arcade and a richly decorated canopy; the
ornamentation has been greatly damaged, but the shattered remains show
traces of beautiful work. Mepeham's short primacy was brought to an
untimely end by the contumacy of Grandisson, Bishop of Exeter, who refused
to allow him to enter Exeter Cathedral, actually guarding the west door
with an armed force. The pope sided with the recalcitrant bishop, and
Mepeham died, according to Fuller, of a broken heart in consequence of
this humiliation.
#The Watching Chamber.#--Above the Chapel of St. Anselm is a small room,
which is reached by a staircase from the north-west corner. A window in
it commands a view into the cathedral, and from this circumstance it has
been inferred that a watcher was stationed here at night to protect the
priceless treasures of St. Thomas's shrine from pillage by marauders. Some
doubt has been thrown on this assumption, since the site of the shrine is
not fully seen from the window, but the room is still generally known as
the Watching Chamber. Probably the shrine was much more efficiently
guarded than by the presence of a solitary monk in a chamber, from which
even if he could see thieves he certainly could not arrest them; for we
know that "on the occasion of fires the shrine was additionally guarded by
a troop of fierce ban-dogs" (Stanley). It is also said that King John of
France was imprisoned in this chamber during his stay at Canterbury, but
this is most unlikely, seeing that he was treated by the Black Prince more
as a sovereign than as a captive.
[Illustration: SOME MOSAICS FROM THE FLOOR OF TRINITY CHAPEL.]
#Trinity Chapel.#--Passing further east, we ascend the flight of steps,
deeply worn by innumerable pilgrims, and enter the precincts of the
Trinity Chapel. All this part of the cathedral, from the choir-screen
to the corona, was rebuilt from the ground, specially with a view to its
receiving the shrine of St. Thomas. It is still, however, called by the
name of the Trinity Chapel, which previously occupied this site, and was
burnt down by the fire which destroyed Conrad's choir. In this chapel
Thomas a Becket celebrated his first mass after his installation as
archbishop, and his remains were laid for some time in the crypt below
it. This portion of the building was all carried out under the direction
of English William. Gervase relates that when William of Sens, after his
accident, "perceiving that he derived no benefit from the physicians,
returned to his home in France," his successor, English William "laid the
foundation for the enlargement of the church at the eastern part, because
a chapel of St. Thomas was to be built there; for this was the place
assigned to him; namely the Chapel of the Holy Trinity, where he
celebrated his first mass--where he was wont to prostrate himself with
tears and prayers, under whose crypt for so many years he was buried,
where God for his merits had performed so many miracles, where poor and
rich, kings and princes, had worshipped him, and whence the sound of his
praises had gone out into all lands." As to the extent to which the second
William was guided by the plans of his predecessor we have no means of
judging accurately. Certainly the general outline of this part of the
building must have been arranged by William of Sens, for the contraction
of the choir, in order to preserve the width of the ancient Trinity Chapel
had been carried out up to the clerestory before his retirement. Willis
deals with the subject at some length: "Whether," he says, "we are to
attribute to the French artist the lofty elevation of the pavement of
the new chapel, by which also so handsome a crypt is obtained below, must
remain doubtful. The bases of his columns, as well as those of the shafts
against the wall are hidden and smothered by the platform at the top of
these steps and by the side steps that lead to Becket's chapel. This looks
like an evidence of a change of plan, and induces me to believe that the
lofty crypt below may be considered as the unfettered composition of the
English architect.... The Trinity Chapel of the Englishman is under the
influence of the French work of which it is a continuation, and
accordingly the same mouldings are employed throughout, and the triforium
and clerestory are continued at the same level; but the greater level of
the pavement wholly alters the proportion of the piers to their arches,
and gives a new and original, and at the same time a very elegant
character to this part of the church compared with the work of the
Frenchman, of which, at first sight, it seems to be a mere continuation.
The triforium also of this Trinity Chapel differs from that of the choir,
in that its four pointed arches instead of being, like them, included
under two circular ones, are set in the form of an arcade of four arches,
of two orders of mouldings each. The mouldings are the same as in the
choir, but the effect of their arrangement is richer. Also in the
clerestory two windows are placed over each pier-arch, instead of the
single window of the choir. The mixture of the two forms of arches is
still carried on, for although the semicircular arch is banished from
the triforium, it is adopted for the pier-arches.
"However, in the side-aisles of the Trinity chapel, and in the corona,
our English William appears to have freed himself almost as completely
from the shackles of imitation, as was possible. In the side-aisles the
mouldings of the ribs still remain the same, but their management in
connection with the side walls, and the combination of their slender
shafts with those of the twin lancet windows, here for the first time
introduced into the building, is very happy. Slender shafts of marble are
employed in profusion by William of Sens, and Gervase expressly includes
them in his list of characteristic novelties. But here we find them either
detached from the piers, or combined with them in such a manner as to
give a much greater lightness and elegance of effect than in the work of
the previous architect. This lightness of style is carried still farther
in the corona, where the slender shafts are carried round the walls, and
made principal supports to the pier-arches, over which is placed a light
triforium and a clerestory; and it must be remarked that all the arches in
this part of the building are of a single order of mouldings, instead of
two orders as in the pier-arches and triforium of the choir."
So much for the architectural details of the Trinity Chapel. To the
ordinary visitor its interest lies rather in the fact that it contained
Becket's shrine, and that we here see the curious old windows portraying
the sainted Archbishop's miracles, and what is, perhaps, most important of
all to many, #the tomb of Edward the Black Prince#. This monument is the
first feature that we notice as we enter by the south-west gate of the
chapel; it stands between the two first pillars, and by the side of the
site of the shrine. By the Prince's will he had left directions that he
should be buried in the crypt, where he had already founded a chantry,
at the time of his marriage with the "Fair Maid of Kent" in 1363. But for
some unknown reason, probably in order that the dead hero's bones might be
placed in the most sacred spot possible--he was laid to rest by the side
of the martyr, then in the zenith of his sanctity. One of the most
romantic figures in English history is that of Edward the Black Prince,
who "fought the French" as no Briton, except perhaps Nelson, has fought
them since; he was sixteen years old when he commanded the English army
in person at the battle of Cressy, and was wounded in the thickest of that
most sanguinary fray: ten years later, facing an army of 60,000 men with
a mere 8,000 behind him, he inflicted a still more severe defeat on the
French at Poitiers, and captured their king, whom he took with him to
Canterbury on his triumphant return to London. In all our list of national
heroes there is not one who upheld the prowess of the English arms more
gallantly than this mighty warrior who was cut off while still in the
flower of his years, leaving England to the miseries of sedition and civil
war. His tomb is one of the most impressive of such monuments. The gilding
and bright colours have almost entirely disappeared, but the striking
effect of the effigy is probably only enhanced by the solemn sombreness of
its present appearance. It is a figure clad in full armour, spurred and
helmeted, as the Prince had ordained by his will. The head rests on the
helmet and the hands are joined in the attitude of prayer. The face, which
is undoubtedly a portrait, is stern and masterful. "There you can see
his fine face with the Plantagenet features, the flat cheeks, and the
well-chiselled nose, to be traced, perhaps, in the effigy of his father in
Westminster Abbey, and his grandfather in Gloucester Cathedral." The tomb
itself is worthy to support the figure and guard the ashes of the Black
Prince. Carved on its side clearly, that all might read it, is the
inscription which he had himself chosen; it is in Norman French, which was
still the language spoken by the English Court, and in the same spirit
which moved the designer of Archbishop Chichele's tomb to portray the
living man and the mouldering skeleton, this epitaph contrasts the glories
of the Prince's life--his wealth, beauty, and power--with the decay and
corruption of the grave. It is distinctly pagan in thought, and reminds
one strongly of the laments of the dead Homeric heroes as they wail for
the joys of life and strength and lordship. Stanley states that it is
"borrowed, with a few variations, from the anonymous French translation of
the 'Clericalis Disciplina' of Petrus Alphonsus composed between the years
1106 and 1110." But it is strangely un-Christian in sentiment as a few
lines will show--
"Tiel come tu es, je autiel fu, tu seras tiel come je su,
De la mort ne pensay je mie, tant come j'avoy la vie.
En terre avoy grand richesse, dont je y fys grand noblesse,
Terre, mesons, et grand tresor, draps, chivalx, argent et or.
Mesore su je povres et cheitifs, perfond en la terre gys,
Ma grand beaute est tout alee, ma char est tout gastee
Moult est estroite ma meson, en moy ne si verite non,
Et si ore me veissez, je ne quide pas que vous deeisez
Que j'eusse onges hom este, si su je ore de tout changee."
Below this inscription are ranged coats-of-arms, bearing the ostrich
feathers and the motto _Ich Diene_ ("I serve"), which, according to
time-honoured but unauthenticated tradition, the prince won from the blind
King of Bohemia, who was led into the thick of the fighting at Cressy, and
died on the field. Welsh archaeologists, however, maintain that these words
are Celtic, and mean "behold the man;" their theory suggests that this was
the phrase used by Edward I. when he presented his firstborn son to the
Welsh people as their prince, and that the words thus became the motto of
the princes of Wales. This is a rather far-fetched piece of reasoning, and
one would certainly prefer to accept the more picturesque tradition which
connects the phrase with the glories of Cressy. The other word found on
these escutcheons--_Houmont_--is still more puzzling. We know that the
Black Prince was wont to sign himself _Houmont, Ich Diene_. Stanley
explains the combination gracefully, but not very convincingly. "If, as
seems most likely, they are German words, they exactly express what we
have seen so often in his life, the union of 'Hoch muth,' that is _high
spirit_, with 'Ich Dien,' _I serve_. They bring before us the very scene
itself after the battle of Poitiers, where, after having vanquished the
whole French nation, he stood behind the captive king, and served him like
an attendant."
[Illustration: THE BLACK PRINCE'S TOMB
(FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY CARL NORMAN AND CO.).]
The tomb is surmounted by a canopy on which is painted an interesting
representation of the Trinity. The work is a good deal faded, but still
worthy of notice; the absence of the figure of the dove is curious, but is
not unparalleled in such designs. At the corners are symbols of the four
evangelists. The Holy Trinity--on whose feast-day he died--was held in
peculiar veneration by the Black Prince. The ordinance of the chantry
founded by him in the crypt contains the phrase, _Ad honorem Sancte
Trinitatis quam peculiari devocione semper colimus_. A curious metal
badge, preserved in the British Museum, is stamped with the figure of the
prince kneeling before the Almighty and our Saviour, whose representation
is almost identical with the design on the canopy over the tomb; here also
the figure of the dove is absent. Round the canopy and in the pillars we
can still see the hooks which upheld the black tapestry, bordered with
crimson and embroidered with _cygnes avec tetes de dames_, which was hung,
as ordained by his will, round the prince's tomb and Becket's shrine.
[Illustration: SHIELD, COAT, ETC., OF THE BLACK PRINCE.]
Lastly, above the canopy, on a cross-beam between two pillars, are
suspended the brazen gauntlets, the helmet, the wooden shield with its
moulded leather covering, the velvet coat emblazoned with the arms of
England and France, and the empty sheath. The gauntlets were once
embellished with little figures of lions on the knuckles; these have been
detached by "collectors," vandals almost as ruthless as Blue Dick and his
troopers, and without their excuse of mistaken religious zeal. The helmet
still has its original lining of leather, showing that it was actually
worn. The sword which fitted the now empty sheath is said to have been
taken away by Oliver Cromwell; it appeared in Manchester at the beginning
of this century under circumstances so curious, that we may be excused for
quoting the following letter from Canon Wray, given in Stanley's Appendix
on the Black Prince's will. "The sword, or supposed sword, of the Black
Prince, which Oliver Cromwell is said to have carried away, I have seen
and many times have had in my hands. There lived in Manchester, when I
first came here, a Mr. Thomas Barritt, a saddler by trade; he was a great
antiquarian, and had collected together helmets, coats of mail, horns,
etc., and many coins. But what he valued most of all was a sword: the
blade about two feet long, and on the blade was let in, in letters of
gold, 'EDWARDUS WALLIE PRINCEPS'.... He was in possession of this sword
A.D. 1794. He told me he purchased many of the ancient relics of a pedlar,
who travelled through the country selling earthenware, and I think he said
he got this sword from this pedlar. When Barritt died, in 1820, his
curiosities were sold by his widow at a raffle, but I believe this sword
was not amongst the articles so disposed of. It had probably been disposed
of beforehand, but to whom I never knew; yet I think it not unlikely that
it is still in the neighbourhood. The sword was a little curved,
scimitar-like, rather thick, broad blade, and had every appearance of
being the Black Prince's sword." Truly a most remarkable story. This
historic blade, which may have hewn down the French ranks at Poitiers, is
disposed of by an itinerant crockery vender to an antiquarian saddler; on
his death is, or is not, "sold at a raffle" and--vanishes!
[Illustration: WEST GATE.]
These arms that hang over the prince's tomb are all that are left of
two distinct suits, one for war, and one for use in the joust and the
ceremonials of peace, which were, according to directions given in the
will, carried in the funeral procession through the West Gate and along
the High Street to the cathedral. The pieces which remain all belong to
the suit worn in actual warfare.
The centre of the chapel looks curiously blank, being left so by the
thoroughness with which all trace of Becket's shrine was removed by the
reforming zeal and insatiable rapacity of Henry VIII. and his minions. The
effect of the bare stone pavement presents an impressive contrast to the
vanished glories of the shrine blazing with gold and jewels, as we read of
it. (For a description of the shrine and its history, see Chapter I.) The
exact place on which it stood is plainly shown by the marks worn in the
stones by the knees of generations of pilgrims as they knelt before it,
while the prior, with his white wand, pointed out the choicest of its
treasures. To the west, between the altar-screen--the unhappy effect of
which is painfully conspicuous from this point--and the site of the
shrine, there is some very interesting mosaic pavement, containing the
signs of the zodiac, and emblems of virtue and vice, an example of the
_Opus Alexandrinum_, which appears in the floors of most of the Roman
basilicas. A similar piece of mosaic work may be seen round the shrine of
Edward the Confessor at Westminster. Above the eastern end of the shrine a
gilded crescent was fixed in the roof, which still remains; the origin and
meaning of this emblem have been disputed with considerable heat, and many
ingenious conjectures have been framed to account for its presence here.
One theory regards it as an allusion to the tradition according to which
Becket's mother was a Saracen. But this legend is believed to be
comparatively modern, and, as Mr. George Austin points out, "even if the
legend of Becket's mother had obtained credence at that early period, it
may be observed that in the painted windows around no reference is made
to the subject, though evidently capable of so much pictorial effect."
Another solution would connect the crescent with the worship of the Virgin
Mary, who is often pictured as standing on the moon (comp. Rev. xii. 1).
Supporters of this theory lay stress on the fact that the Trinity Chapel
at Canterbury occupies the extreme east end of the church, which is
generally the site of the Lady Chapel, and that therefore the presence of
this emblem--if it can be connected with the Virgin--would be peculiarly
appropriate here. Mr. Austin propounded the explanation which is now most
generally accepted. "When the groined roof," he says, "was relieved of the
long-accumulated coats of whitewash and repaired, the crescent was taken
down and regilt. It was found to be made of a foreign wood, somewhat like
in grain to the eastern wood known by the name of iron-wood. It had been
fastened to the groining by a large nail of very singular shape, with a
large square head, apparently of foreign manufacture." He comes to the
conclusion that the crescent is one of a number of trophies which he
supposes to have once decorated this part of the cathedral, and he is
led to his conclusion by the fact that "more than one fresco painting of
encounters with the Eastern infidels formerly ornamented the walls (the
last traces of which were removed during the restoration of the cathedral
under Dean Percy, afterwards Bishop of Carlisle), and in one of which the
green crescent flag of the enemy seems borne away by the English archers.
Might not these frescoes have depicted the fights in which these trophies
were won?" Also, in the hollows of the groining which radiate from the
crescent, there were a number of slight iron staples, which Mr. Austin,
having shown that they cannot have supported either hanging lamps or the
covering of the shrine, believes to have upheld flags, horsetails, etc.,
which formed the trophy of which the gilded crescent was the centre. We
know that Becket received the title of St. Thomas Acrensis owing to his
close connection with the knights of the Hospital of St. John at Acre. But
none of these explanations seem very convincing, and the history and
significance of the crescent in the roof seem likely to remain a mystery.
Before we turn from Becket and his shrine to the other monuments in the
Trinity Chapel, we must call the attention of our readers to the stained
windows which depict the miracles of the sainted martyr. The chapel was at
one time entirely surrounded with glass of this sort, but only a portion
has survived the ravages of the Puritans. "Of these windows," says Austin,
"unfortunately but three remain, but they are sufficient to attest their
rare beauty; and for excellence of drawing, harmony of colouring, and
purity of design, are justly considered unequalled. The skill with which
the minute figures are represented cannot even at this day be surpassed;
it is extraordinary to see how every feeling of joy or sorrow, pain and
enjoyment, is expressed both in feature and position. But in nothing is
the superiority of these windows shown more than the beautiful scrolls and
borders which surmount the windows, and gracefully connect the groups of
medallions." Most of these windows probably contained representations of
Becket, and so were doomed to destruction by the decree of Henry VIII., in
which "his Grace straitly chargeth and commandeth, that henceforth the
said Thomas Becket shall not be esteemed, named, reputed, nor called a
saint, but Bishop Becket, and that his images and pictures throughout the
whole realm shall be put down and avoided out of all churches and chapels,
and other places; and that from henceforth the days used to be festivals
in his name shall not be observed, nor the service, office, antiphonies,
collects and prayers in his name read, but rased and put out of all
books." This proclamation was rigorously carried out though the stained
windows which come within its terms have, in some cases, escaped
destruction. For instance there remains a window in the south transept of
Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford, representing the martyrdom of Becket, but
it is interesting to note that even here the archbishop's head was removed
from the glass. Three of the windows of the Trinity Chapel have survived,
and fragments of others are scattered over the glass of the building. They
are entirely devoted to depicting the miracles of the martyr, which began
immediately after his death and reception--according to a vision of
Benedict--in a place between the apostles and the martyrs, above even St.
Stephen.
The window towards the east on the north side of the shrine is divided
into geometrical figures, each figure composed of a group of fine
medallions; every group tells the story of a miracle, or series of
miracles, performed by the influence of the saint. The lower group
portrays the story of a child who was drowned in the Medway, and
afterwards restored to life by the efficacy of the saint's blood mixed
with water. The first medallion shows the boy falling into the stream,
while his companions pelt the frogs in the reeds by the river side; the
next shows the companions relating the story of the accident to the boy's
parents, and in the third we see the grief-stricken parents watching their
son's corpse being drawn out of the river. "The landscape in these
medallions is exceedingly well rendered; the trees are depicted with
great grace" (Austin). Unfortunately the medallions which complete this
story have been destroyed. The next group depicts the quaint story of a
succession of miracles which were wrought in the family of a knight called
Jordan, son of Eisult. His ten year old boy died, and the knight, who had
been an intimate friend of Becket in his lifetime, resolved to try to
restore his son with water mixed with the saint's blood. At the third
draught, as Benedict tells the story, the dead boy "opened one eye, and
said, 'Why are you weeping, father? Why are you crying, lady? The blessed
martyr, Thomas, has restored me to you!' At evening he sat up, ate,
talked, and was restored." But the father forgot the vow which he made in
the first moment of joy at his son's recovery, namely, that he would offer
four silver pieces at the martyr's shrine before Mid Lent. And once more
all the household was stricken with sickness, and the eldest son died.
Then the parents, though sore smitten themselves, dragged themselves to
Canterbury and performed their vow. The whole of this story with other
details for which we have no space may be accurately traced on this unique
window. The most striking is the central medallion of the group in which
the vengeance of the saint is shown forth. In the middle of a large room
we see a bier on which lies the dead son; the father and mother, overcome
with despair, stand at the head and feet of the body. Behind the bier are
several figures, which, from their "unusually violent attitudes expressive
of grief," Mr. Austin considered to be professional mourners. Above,
unseen by the group below, the figure of St. Thomas, clad in full
episcopal robes, holding a sword in his right hand, and pointing to
the corpse with his left, is seen appearing through the ceiling. "The
expression," says Austin, "of the various figures in the above
compartments, both in gesture and feature, is rendered with great skill.
In the execution of this story, the points which, doubtless, the artists
of the monastery were chiefly anxious to impress upon the minds of the
devotees who thronged to the shrine are prominently brought out: the
extreme danger of delaying the performance of a vow, under whatever
circumstances made, the expiation sternly required by the saint, and the
satisfaction with which the martyr viewed money offerings made at the
shrine."
One of the other groups is noteworthy as proving that severe penances were
sometimes performed before the shrine. One medallion shows a woman
prostrating herself before a priest at the altar, while two men stand
near, holding formidable-looking rods. The next picture represents the two
men vigorously flagellating the woman with the rods; while, in the third,
one of the men is still beating the woman, who now lies fainting on the
ground, while the other is addressing the priest, who sits hard by
composedly reading his book. The other two windows contain representations
of the healings effected by the saint, which seem to have been of a very
varied character, to judge from the catalogue with which Benedict sums
them up. "What position," he asks, "in the Church, what sex or age, what
rank or order is there, which could not find something beneficial to
itself [_aliquid sibi utile_] in this treasure-house of ours? Here the
light of truth is furnished to schismatics, confidence to timid pastors,
health to the sick, and pardon to the deserving penitent [_paenitentibus
venia ejus meritis_, the last two words probably implying an offering].
The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the
dead rise again, the dumb speak, the poor have the gospel preached to
them, the paralytic recover, the dropsical lose their swellings
[_detumescunt hydropici_], the mad are restored to sense, the epileptic
are cured, the fever-stricken escape, and, to sum up, _omnimoda curatur
infirmitas_."
The last of these windows to which we must call the special attention of
our readers is one on the north side, representing a vision which Benedict
tells us that he saw himself. The martyr is seen coming forth from his
shrine in full pontifical robes, and making his way towards the altar as
if to celebrate mass. This window is noticeable as containing the only
representation that now exists of the shrine itself--for the picture in
the Cottonian MSS. evidently shows us, not the shrine, but its outer
shell, or covering. "The medallion," says Austin, "is the more
interesting, from being an undoubted work of the thirteenth century; and
having been designed for a position immediately opposite to and within a
few yards of the shrine itself, and occupying the place of honour in the
largest and most important window, without doubt represents the main
features of the shrine faithfully."
On the north side of the Trinity Chapel, immediately opposite the tomb of
the Black Prince, is that of King Henry IV., who died in 1413, and his
second consort, Joan of Navarre, who followed him in 1437. This king had
made liberal offerings towards the rebuilding of the nave of the
cathedral, and it has been conjectured that one of the figures on the
organ-screen represents him: his will ordered that he should be laid to
rest in the church at Canterbury, and here accordingly he was buried on
the Trinity Sunday after his death. The tomb, with its rich canopy, is a
beautiful piece of work, and the figures of the king and queen are
probably faithful representations. A curious story was circulated by the
Yorkists, to the effect that Henry was never buried here, but that his
body was thrown into the water between Gravesend and Barking, during the
voyage of the funeral _cortege_ to Faversham, and that only an empty
coffin was laid in the Trinity Chapel. That this point might be cleared
up, the tomb was opened in 1832 in the presence of the Dean, and there the
king was found in perfect preservation, and bearing a close resemblance to
the effigy on the monument--"the nose elevated, the beard thick and
matted, and of a deep russet colour, and the jaws perfect, with all the
teeth in them, except one foretooth."
In the wall of the north aisle, just opposite the king's tomb, is a small
chapel, built according to the directions contained in his will "that ther
be a chauntre perpetuall with twey prestis for to sing and prey for my
soul." The roof shows the first piece of fan-vaulting admitted into the
cathedral. On the eastern wall an account is scratched of the cost of a
reredos which once stood here, but has been entirely destroyed: it tells
us that the cost of "ye middil image was xix^s 11^d." This chapel was
doubtless used at one time as a storehouse of sacred relics. Two recesses
in the west wall have lately been chosen to receive certain archiepiscopal
vestments which were discovered in a tomb on the south side of Trinity
Chapel, which was long believed to be that of Archbishop Theobald.
To the east of Henry IV.'s monument is the tomb of Dean Wotton, adorned
with his kneeling figure. He was the first Dean of Canterbury after the
reorganization by Henry VIII. Opposite to him is an unsightly brick
erection which was once intended as a temporary covering for the remains
of Odo Coligny, Cardinal of Chatillon and brother of Admiral Coligny, who
was one of the victims of the massacre of St. Bartholomew. The Cardinal
fled from France in 1568, on account of his leanings towards the tenets of
the Huguenots, and was welcomed by Queen Elizabeth. It is believed that
he died from the effects of a poisoned apple given to him by a servant. It
seems curious that the French Huguenots who settled in Canterbury never
provided him with a more fitting monument.
Between this tomb and that of the Black Prince is the monument of
Archbishop Courtenay, who was primate from 1381 to 1396, and was
celebrated for his severity towards Wycliffe and his followers. He was
a large contributor to the fund for the re-building of the nave, which
perhaps accounts for the distinguished position of his tomb; the fact also
that he was executor to the Black Prince may be responsible for his being
buried at his feet. It is not, however, certain that his body actually
lies here, though the ledger book of the cathedral states that he was
buried within the walls of the church. It is known, however, that he died
at Maidstone, and that he ordered in his will that his remains should rest
there, and a slab in the pavement of All Saints', Maidstone, shows traces
of a brass representing the figure of an archbishop, whence it has been
concluded that Courtenay was in fact buried there, and that his monument
in Canterbury is only a cenotaph.
[Illustration: TRINITY CHAPEL, LOOKING INTO THE CORONA, "BECKET'S CROWN,"
WITH CHAIR OF ST. AUGUSTINE.]
#Becket's Crown.#--The circular apse at the extreme east end of the church
is known as Becket's Crown. The name has caused a good deal of discussion.
The theory once generally received was to the effect that the portion of
Becket's skull which was cut away by Richard le Breton was preserved here
as a relic of special sanctity. We know that the Black Prince bequeathed,
by his will, tapestry hangings for the High Altar and for three others,
viz., "l'autier la ou Mons'r Saint Thomas gist--l'autier la ou la teste
est--l'autier la ou la poynte de l'espie est." The first and last are
evidently the altars at the shrine and in the Chapel of the Martyrdom, and
it has been contended that the altar "where the head is" was the altar of
which traces may still be seen in the pavement of the corona, or Becket's
Crown. Against this notion we must place the authority of Erasmus, whose
words plainly show that the martyr's head was displayed in the crypt:
"_hinc digressi subimus cryptoporticum: illic primum exhibetur calvaria
martyris perforata_ (the martyr's pierced tonsure): _reliqua tecta sunt
argento, summa cranii pars nuda patet osculo_." While Willis considers
that the term corona was a common one for an apse at the end of a
church, citing "Ducange's Glossary," which defines "Corona Ecclesiae" as
_Pars templi choro postica, quod ea pars fere desinat in circulum_; "at
all events," he concludes, "it was a general term and not peculiar to
Christ Church, Canterbury. The notion that this round chapel was called
Becket's Crown, because part of his skull was preserved here as a relic,
appears wholly untenable. There is at least no doubt that a relic of
some sort was preserved here, because we know from a record of the
offerings--Oblaciones S. Thomae--during ten years in the first half of the
thirteenth century, that the richest gifts were made at the shrine and in
the corona. And we know that the spot was one of peculiar sanctity from
the fact that the shrines of St. Odo and St. Wilfrid were finally
transferred thither. _Corpus S. Odonis in feretro, ad coronam versus
austrum. Corpus S. Wilfridi in feretro ad coronam versus aquilonem._"
[Illustration: CHAIR OF ST. AUGUSTINE.]
On the north side of the corona is the tomb of Cardinal Pole, the last
Archbishop of Canterbury who acknowledged the supremacy of the Pope. He
held office from 1556 to 1558, and died the day after Queen Mary. Here
stands also the patriarchal chair, made out of three pieces of Purbeck
marble. It is called St. Augustine's chair, and is said to be the throne
on which the old kings of Kent were crowned; according to the tradition,
Ethelbert, on being converted, gave the chair to Augustine, from whom it
has descended to the Archbishops of Canterbury. It is needless to say
that this eminently attractive legend has been attacked and overthrown
by modern criticism. It is pointed out that the original archiepiscopal
throne was of one piece only, and that Purbeck marble did not come into
use until some time after Augustine's death. From its shape it is
conjectured that the chair dates from the end of the twelfth century or
the beginning of the thirteenth, and that it may have been constructed for
the ceremony of the translation of St. Thomas' relics. It is in this
chair, and not in the archiepiscopal throne in the choir, that the
archbishops are still enthroned. From the corona we have a view of the
full length of the cathedral, which measures 514 feet, and is one of the
longest of English cathedrals. Of the windows in Becket's Crown, the
centre one is ancient, while the rest are modern and afford a most
instructive contrast.
#St. Andrew's Tower, or Chapel.#--Leaving the Trinity Chapel, and
descending the steps, we find on our right the door of St. Andrew's Chapel
which is now used as a vestry. Formerly, it was the sacristy, a place from
which the pilgrims of humble rank were excluded, but where those of wealth
and high station were allowed to gaze at a great array of silken vestments
and golden candlesticks, and also the Martyr's pearwood pastoral staff with
its black horn crook, and his cloak and bloodstained kerchief. Here also
was a chest "cased with black leather, and opened with the utmost
reverence on bended knees, containing scraps and rags of linen with which
(the story must be told throughout) the saint wiped his forehead and blew
his nose" (Stanley). Erasmus describes this exhibition with a touch of
scorn. "_Fragmenta linteorum lacera plerumque macci vestigium servantia.
His, ut aiebant, vir pius extergebat sudorem e facie_," etc. The walls of
this chapel show many traces of fresco decoration: the pattern seems to
have consisted of a clustering vine tree spread over the roof. In the
north wall is a Norman chamber which originally served as the Treasury;
the door is still secured by three locks, the keys of which were held by
different officials. St. Andrew's Chapel is part of Ernulf's work, and the
peculiar ornamentation which marks his hand may be noticed over the arch
of the apse which terminates it.
#The North-East Transept.#--Passing along the choir aisle, we see the old
Bible desk, holding the Bible which was originally placed there, and was
restored to this position by the late Bishop Parry. Next we enter the
north-east transept, which in its architectural features is practically a
repetition of the south-east transept, with which we have already dealt.
The monument to Archbishop Tait, designed by Boehm, is well worthy of its
surroundings. Above it, in the north wall, about ten feet from the ground,
we may notice three slits in the wall. These are what are called
hagioscopes. On the other side of the wall was a recess connected with the
Prior's Chapel. Through these hagioscopes--or "holy spy-holes"--the prior
could see mass being celebrated at the high altar and at the altars below
in the transept, without entering the cathedral. These transeptal altars
are in the Chapels of St. Martin and St. Stephen which occupy two apses in
the eastern wall. St. Martin is represented in a medallion of ancient
glass preserved in the modern window, as dividing his coat with a beggar.
Scratched on the walls are the names "Lanfrancus" and "Ediva Regina;" the
bodies of Lanfranc and Queen Ediva were removed to this transept after the
fire. Lanfranc originally lay in the old Trinity Chapel, and when this
building was levelled to the ground, he was "carried to the vestiarium in
his leaden covering, and there deposited until the community should decide
what should be done with so great a Father." Apparently the heavy sheet of
lead was removed, for Gervase goes on to say that "Lanfranc having
remained untouched for sixty-nine years, his very bones were consumed with
rottenness, and nearly all reduced to powder. The length of time, the damp
vestments, the natural frigidity of lead, and above all the frailty of the
human structure, had conspired to produce this corruption. But the larger
bones, with the remaining dust, were collected in a leaden coffer, and
deposited at the altar of St. Martin." Queen Ediva, as we learn from the
same authority, "who before the fire reposed under a gilted _feretrum_ in
nearly the middle of the south cross, was now deposited at the altar of
St. Martin, under the _feretrum_ of Living," an archbishop who died in
1020. Ediva, the wife of Edward the Elder, and a generous benefactress
to the cathedral, died about 960.
From an early list of the subjects represented in the windows of the
cathedral, it appears that the north windows of the north-east transept
depicted the Parable of the Sower. The ancient glass, however, has been
displaced, and a good deal of it has been moved to the windows of the
north choir aisle, between the transept and the Chapel of the Martyrdom,
which are of great beauty, and should be examined carefully. In the
transept itself are windows in memory of Dean Stanley, Dr. Spry, and
Canon Cheshyre.
On the wall of the choir aisle, close to the transept, we can trace the
remains of a fresco representing the conversion of St. Hubert. Further on,
there hangs a picture, by Cross, which is intended to represent the murder
of Becket. As a work of art it is not without merit, but its details are
entirely inaccurate.
#The North-West Transept, or Chapel of the Martyrdom.#--The actual site
of the tragedy which rendered Becket and his cathedral famous throughout
Christendom was the North-West Transept, or as it was more commonly called
the Chapel of the Martyrdom. Hardly any portion, however, of this
structure as it stands actually witnessed the murder. In the time of
Becket the transept was of two storeys, divided by a vault, which was
upheld by a single pillar. The upper partition was dedicated to St.
Blaise, and the lower to St. Benedict. In the west wall, as now, was
a door which opened into the cloister.
[Illustration: THE MARTYRDOM, NORTH-WEST TRANSEPT.]
The story of Becket and his quarrel with Henry II. will be dealt with
in the next chapter. But before examining the spot on which he was
assassinated it is perhaps fitting to recall the events which immediately
preceded his death. Henry's wrathful exclamation, which stirred the four
knights to set out on their bloodthirsty mission, is well known. Whatever
we may think of the methods employed by these warriors--Fitzurse, de
Moreville, de Tracy, and le Bret were their names--we must at least
concede that they were gifted with undaunted courage. To slay an anointed
archbishop in his own cathedral was to do a deed from which the boldest
might well shrink, in the days when excommunication was held to be a
living reality, and the Church was believed to hold the power of eternal
blessing or damnation in her hand. These men--who were all closely
attached to the king's person, and were sometimes described as his
"cubicularii," or Grooms of the Bedchamber--arrived at the gate of the
archbishop's palace in the afternoon of Tuesday, December 29th, 1170. With
a curious want of directness they seem to have left their swords outside,
and entered, and had a stormy interview with Becket; enraged by his
unyielding firmness, they went back for their weapons, and in the
meantime the archbishop was hurried by the terrified monks through the
cloister and into the cathedral, where the vesper service was being held.
The knights quickly forced their way after him, and the monks locked and
barricaded the cloister door. But Becket, who bore himself heroically
through the whole scene, insisted that the door should be thrown open,
exclaiming that "the church must not be turned into a castle." Then all
the monks but three fled in terror. Those who stayed urged Becket to hide
himself in the crypt or in the Chapel of St. Blaise above. But he would
not hear of concealment, but preferred to make his way to the choir that
he might die at his post by the high altar. As he went up the steps
towards the choir the knights rushed into the transept, calling for "the
archbishop, the traitor to the king," and Becket turned and came down, and
confronted them by the pillar of the chapel. Clad in his white rochet,
with a cloak and hood over his shoulders, he faced his murderers, who were
now girt in mail from head to foot. They tried to seize him and drag him
out of the sacred precinct, but he put his back against the pillar and
hurled Tracy full-length on the pavement. Then commending his cause and
the cause of the Church "to God, to St. Denys, the martyr of France, to
St. Alfege, and to the saints of the Church," he fell under the blows of
the knights' swords. The last stroke was from the hand of le Bret, it
severed the crown of the archbishop's head, and the murderer's sword was
shivered into two pieces. Then the assassins left the church, ransacked
the palace, and plundered its treasures, and, lastly, rode off on horses
from the stables, in which Becket had to the last taken especial pride.
Such is the brief outline of the events of this remarkable tragedy, for
a fuller account of which we must refer our readers to the excellent
description in Stanley's "Memorials of Canterbury." As we have already
said, the present transept has been entirely rebuilt; although not damaged
by the fire, it was reconstructed by Prior Chillenden at the time when he
erected the present nave. It is even doubtful whether the present pavement
is the same as that which was trodden by Becket and his murderers. A small
square stone is still shown in the floor of the transept, as marking the
exact spot on which the archbishop fell; it is said to have been inserted
in place of the original piece which was taken out and sent to Rome, but
there is little or no authority for this statement. On the other hand, we
read that Benedict, when he became Abbot of Peterborough, in order to
supply his new cathedral with relics, in which it was sadly deficient,
came back to Canterbury and carried off the stones which had been
sprinkled with St. Thomas's blood, and made therewith two altars for
Peterborough.
In this transept an altar was erected, called the Altar of the Martyrdom,
or the Altar of the Sword's Point (_altare ad punctum ensis_), from the
fact that upon it was laid the broken fragment of le Bret's sword, which
had been left on the pavement. Also, a portion of the martyr's brains were
kept under a piece of rock crystal, and a special official, called the
Custos Martyrii, was appointed to guard these relics.
The chief window in this chapel was presented by Edward IV.; in it we can
still see the figures of himself and his queen and his two daughters, and
the two young princes who were murdered in the Tower. It originally
contained representations of "seven glorious appearances" of the Virgin,
and Becket himself in the centre, but all this portion was destroyed by
Blue Dick, the Puritan zealot. The west window was the gift of the Rev.
Robert Moore, sometime Canon of Canterbury; it is an elaborate piece of
work depicting Becket's martyrdom and scenes in his life.
Here also we see the very beautiful and interesting monument to Archbishop
Peckham (1279-1292), the oldest Canterbury monument which survives in its
entirety; even it has been encroached upon by the commonplace erection
adjoining it, which commemorates Warham who was archbishop from 1503 to
1532, and was the friend of Erasmus.
#The Dean's Chapel.#--Eastward of the north-west transept is the chapel
which was formerly known as the Lady Chapel, but has latterly been named
the Dean's Chapel from the number of deans whose monuments have been
placed here. It stands on the site of the Chapel of St. Benedict, and was
built by Prior Goldstone, who dedicated it to the Blessed Virgin in 1460.
The usual place for the Lady Chapel in cathedrals is, of course, at the
extreme east end; but at Canterbury the situation was occupied by the
shrine of St. Thomas. The principal altar to the Virgin in our cathedral
was that in the crypt, in the "Chapel of Our Lady Undercroft." The
vault of the Dean's Chapel is noticeable. It is a fan vault, of the style
developed to so great perfection in the Tudor period, as shown in Henry
VII.'s Chapel at Westminster, and in the roof of the staircase leading to
the dining-hall of Christ Church, Oxford. The architecture of this chapel
is Perpendicular in style, and its delicate decoration should be carefully
noticed; the screen which separates it from the Martyrdom Transept is also
worthy of close attention. The monuments here are interesting rather than
beautiful. Dean Fotherby is commemorated by a hideous erection bristling
with skulls. Dean Boys is represented as he died, sitting among his books
in his library; it is curious that the books are all apparently turned
with the backs of the covers towards the wall, and the edges of the leaves
outwards. Here also is the monument of Dean Turner, the faithful follower
of Charles I.
[Illustration: PART OF SOUTH-WESTERN TRANSEPT.]
#The South-West Transept.#--Crossing the cathedral through the passage
under the choir steps, we find ourselves in the south-west transept,
which, together with the nave and the north-west transept, was rebuilt
by Prior Chillenden. In the pavement we see memorial stones to canons
and other departed worthies. Among them is the tombstone of Meric Casaubon,
Archbishop Laud's prebendary, and son of Isaac Casaubon, the famous
scholar.
#St. Michael's, or the Warrior's Chapel.#--Eastward of the south-west
transept is a small chapel, generally known as that of St. Michael. In
position and size it closely corresponds with the Dean's Chapel on the
north side of the church. In general style there is also some resemblance,
but the vaulting of the roof is quite different; it is described by
Professor Willis as "as a complex lierne vault of an unusual pattern, but
resembling that of the north transept of Gloucester Cathedral, which dates
from 1367 to 1372." The exact date and the name of the builder of this
chapel are alike uncertain, but it probably replaced the old Chapel of St.
Michael at some time towards the end of the fourteenth century, and Willis
comes to the conclusion that it is most probable that its erection may be
ascribed to Prior Chillenden, and that "it formed part of the general
scheme for the transformation of the western part of the church."
A curious effect is presented by the tomb of Stephen Langton, who was
archbishop from 1207 to 1228, and is famous as having compelled King John
to sign the Great Charter, and also as having divided the Bible into
chapters. His tomb, shaped like a stone coffin, is half in the chapel and
half under the eastern wall, and Professor Willis considers that it was
originally outside the wall, in the churchyard; "and thus the new wall,
when the chapel was rebuilt and enlarged in the fourteenth century, was
made to stride over the coffin by means of an arch." The reverence in
which Langton's memory was held is attested by the fact that his remains
must have lain under the altar of the chapel, a most unusual position
except in the case of celebrated saints. In the middle of the chapel is a
very beautiful and interesting monument erected by Margaret Holland, who
died in 1437, to the memory of her two husbands and herself. The monument
is of alabaster and marble, and represents the lady reposing with her
first spouse, John Beaufort, Earl of Somerset, and son of John of Gaunt,
on her left, and Thomas, Duke of Clarence, her second husband, on her
right. The latter was the second son of Henry IV., and, so, nephew of John
of Somerset the first husband; he was killed at the battle of Bauge in
1421. Leland thinks that this chapel was built expressly for the reception
of this tomb: "This chapel be likelihood was made new for the Honor of
Erle John of Somerset," but it is probably of rather earlier date than
would be allowed by this theory. The figures of Margaret and her two lords
are very fine and are interesting examples of fifteenth century costume.
As such they may be contrasted with the effigy of Lady Thornhurst, who
exhibits all the beauty of an Elizabethan ruff. Sir Thomas Thornhurst,
whose monument is hard by, was killed in the ill-fated expedition to the
Isle of Rhe. In the corner of the chapel is the bust of Sir George Rooke,
Vice-Admiral, who led the assault on Gibraltar by which it was first
captured. And the title of "Warrior's" Chapel is further justified by the
presence here of tattered standards, memorials of dead comrades, left by
the famous Kentish regiment, "the Buffs."
[Illustration: THE CRYPT.]
#The Main Crypt.#--Returning through the passage under the steps that lead
up to the choir, we turn to the right into the crypt which originally
supported Conrad's "glorious choir." On the wall as we enter we may notice
some diaper-work ornamentation, interesting from the fact that a similar
decoration may be traced on the wall of the chapter house at Rochester
for Ernulf who built the westward crypt, was afterwards made Bishop of
Rochester. Willis tells us that there are five crypts in England under the
eastern parts of cathedrals, namely, at Canterbury, Winchester,
Gloucester, Rochester, and Worcester, and that they were all founded
before 1085. "After this they were discontinued except as a continuation
of former ones, as in Canterbury and Rochester." This crypt of Ernulf's
replaced the earlier one set up by Lanfranc; Willis thinks it not
impossible that the whole of the pier-shafts may have been taken from the
earlier crypt. "The capitals of the columns are either plain blocks or
sculptured with Norman enrichments. Some of them, however, are in an
unfinished state." He describes minutely one of the capitals on the
south-west side. "Of the four sides of the block two are quite plain. One
has the ornament roughed out, or "bosted" as the workmen call it, that is,
the pattern has been traced upon the block, and the spaces between the
figures roughly sunk down with square edges preparatory to the completion.
On the fourth side, the pattern is quite finished. This proves that the
carving was executed after the stones were set in their places, and
probably the whole of these capitals would eventually have been so
ornamented had not the fire and its results brought in a new school
of carving in the rich foliated capitals, which caused this merely
superficial method of decoration to be neglected and abandoned. In the
same way some of the shafts are roughly fluted in various fashions. The
plain ones would probably have all gradually had the same ornament given
to them, had not the same reasons interfered." The crypt then stands as
it was left by Ernulf except that some of the piers were afterwards
strengthened and one new pillar was inserted in the aisle by William of
Sens, in order to fit in with the new arrangement of the pillars in the
choir which he was then rebuilding. It is therefore, of course, the oldest
part of the church, and remains a most beautiful and interesting relic of
Norman work in spite of the hot water pipe apparatus which now disfigures
it, and its general air of unkempt untidiness. There are signs, however,
that in this respect there is likely to be some improvement. The floor is
being lowered to its original level by the removal of about a foot of
accumulated dirt which had been heaping itself up for the last eight
hundred years and had at last entirely smothered the bases of the columns,
and it is even whispered that the part now cut off and used as the French
church, may be opened out and restored to its original position as part of
the main crypt.
According to Gervase, the whole of the crypt was dedicated to the Virgin
Mary. Here stood the Chapel of Our Lady Undercroft, surrounded by
Perpendicular stone-work screens, from which the altar-screen in the choir
above was imitated. The shrine of the Virgin was exceedingly rich and was
only shown to privileged worshippers: traces of decoration may still be
seen in the vault above. It was at the back of this shrine that Becket
was laid between the time of his murder and his translation to the
resting-place in the Trinity Chapel.
In the main crypt we may notice the monument of Isabel, Countess of Athol,
who died in 1292; she was heiress of Chilham Castle, near Canterbury, and
grand-daughter of King John. She was twice married, her second husband
being Alexander, brother of John Baliol, King of Scotland. The monument
of Lady Mohun of Dunster is in the south screen of the Chapel of Our Lady.
She was ancestress of the present Earl of Derby, and founded a perpetual
chantry. Lastly, here is the tomb of Cardinal Archbishop Morton, the
friend of Sir Thomas More, and the faithful servant of the House of
Lancaster; it was he who brought about the union of the Red and White
Roses by arranging the marriage of Henry of Richmond with Elizabeth of
York. As Henry VII.'s Chancellor he made great exactions under the
euphonious title of "Benevolences," and propounded the famous dilemma
known as "Morton's Fork," by which he argued that those who lived lavishly
must obviously have something to spare for the king's service, while those
who fared soberly must be grown rich on their savings, and so were equally
fair game to the royal plunderer. He lies in the south-west corner of the
crypt, and his monument, which has suffered considerably at the hands of
the Puritans, bears the Tudor portcullis and the archbishop's rebus, a
hawk or _mort_ standing on a tun.
[Illustration: ST. GABRIEL'S CHAPEL.]
In the south-east corner, under Anselm's Tower, is a chapel generally
known as that of St. John, sometimes as that of St. Gabriel. It has been
divided into two compartments by a wall. There are some very interesting
paintings[2] on the roof, representing Our Lord in the centre of the
angelic host, the Adoration of the Magi, and a figure of St. John; this
work is believed to be of the thirteenth century. The central pillar of
this chapel, with the curved fluting in the column and the quaintly
grotesque devices of the figures carved on the capital, is well worthy of
close examination. The grate that we see here was erected by the French
Protestants, large numbers of whom fled to England during the persecution
which was instituted against their sect in 1561. They were welcomed by
Queen Elizabeth, and allowed to settle in Canterbury, where the cathedral
crypt was made over to them to use as a weaving factory. It is possible
that the ridges in the floor of St. John's Chapel are marks left by their
looms, but more evident trace of their occupation is afforded by the
inscriptions in French painted on the pillars and arches of the main
crypt, and again by the custom which still survives of holding a French
service in the south aisle of the crypt; this part has been walled off
especially as a place of worship for the descendants of the French exiles,
and here service is still held in the French tongue. Alterations have been
lately made by which the French service is held in the Black Prince's
Chantry, and the part of the crypt formerly walled off has been merged
with the rest of the crypt, which is thus completely thrown open. Access
to the French church is now obtained from the crypt, and not from outside.
This chantry was founded by the Black Prince in 1363 to commemorate his
marriage with his cousin Joan, the "Fair Maid of Kent." Here, according to
the prince's ordinance, two priests were to pray for his soul, in his
lifetime and after; the situation of the two altars, at which the priests
prayed, can still be traced. On the vaulting we see the arms of the
prince, and of his father, and what seems to be the face of his wife. In
return for the permission to institute this chantry, the prince left to
the monastery of Canterbury an estate which still belongs to the Chapter,
the manor of Fawkes' Hall. This was a piece of land in South Lambeth,
which had been granted by King John to a baron called Fawkes. His name
still survives in the word "Vauxhall."
[2] The above paintings are illustrated in Dart's "History of
Canterbury," 1726, and in "Archaeologia Cantiana," vol. xviii.
[Illustration: IN THE MAIN CRYPT, WITH TOMB OF CARDINAL MORTON
(see p. 99).]
#The Eastern Crypt.#--The eastern portion of the crypt, under the Trinity
Chapel and the corona, is a good deal more lofty than Ernulf's building.
We noticed the ascent from the choir and presbytery to the Trinity Chapel,
and it is, of course, this greater elevation of the cathedral floor at the
east end which accounts for the greater height of the eastern crypt. The
effect, both above and below, is exceedingly happy. The most striking
thing about the interior of the cathedral is the manner in which it
rises--"church piled upon church"--from the nave to the corona, and this
characteristic enabled William the Englishman to build a crypt below which
has none of the cramped squatness which generally mars the effect of such
buildings. "The lofty crypt below," says Willis, "may be considered the
unfettered composition of the English architect. Its style and its details
are wholly different from those of William of Sens. The work, from its
position and office, is of a massive and bold character, but its unusual
loftiness prevents it from assuming the nature of a crypt.... There is one
detail of this crypt which differs especially from the work above. The
abacus of each of the piers, as well as that of each central shaft, is
round; but in the whole of the choir the abacuses are either square, or
square with the corners cut off."
It was in the smaller eastern crypt, which formerly occupied the site of
William's building which we are now examining, that Becket was hastily
buried after his assassination, when his murderers were still threatening
to come and drag his body out, "hang it on a gibbet, tear it with horses,
cut it into pieces, or throw it in some pond to be devoured by swine or
birds of prey." And from that time until the translation of the relics in
1220, this was the most sacred spot in the cathedral, and it was known,
down to Reformation times, as "Becket's tomb." Hither came the earliest
pilgrims in the first rush of enthusiasm for the newly-canonized martyr.
And here Henry II. performed that penance, which is one of the most
striking examples of the Church's power presented by history. We are told
that he placed his head and shoulder in the tomb, and there received five
strokes from each bishop and abbot who was present, and three from each of
the eighty monks. After this castigation he spent the night in the crypt,
fasting and barefooted. His penitence and piety were rewarded by the
victory gained at Richmond, on that very day, by his forces over William
the Lion of Scotland, who was taken prisoner, and afterwards, recognizing
the power of the saint, founded the abbey of Aberbrothwick to Saint Thomas
of Canterbury.