The "silent finger that points to heaven" has, beyond all comparison,
its finest exemplar at Salisbury, and this record, although common as
a household word, is, notwithstanding, none the less true and
impressive, and ever returns with Tithonic vigour at each renewed
contemplation. Graceful in the happiest degree in proportion, its
great altitude gives a power to its slender beauty of form, altogether
beyond the rivalry of its sister spires that spring with humbler
charms from this land of ours. Thus it stands in grand isolated
dignity, amid the long-swelling undulations of the Wiltshire hills,
with base trending earth-ward, yet lost before touching the ground
amid the blue mist that creeps with shrouding haze along the
wolds,--but its fine-drawn point pierces with no uncertain intention
the quiet amber of the evening sky.
It would be perhaps difficult to find any where, taken in sympathy
with its peculiar associations, a picture more impressive and
delightful. The purpose of its builders,--the object of its
dedication,--its majesty of size and height, lifting itself as it were
far from the busy haunts and homes of those, who living, nestle at its
feet, or in death are laid beneath its protective shadow,--its
dark-tinted, yet well-defined, heaven-ward rising, beautiful
outline,--so suggestive in its form of the design of this life, scarce
rooted in the earth, yet with apex cleaving the sky, and tinctured too
akin with the gloomy tints of human uncertainty, summon a host of
thoughts from the inner recesses of the soul, and bids the gazer on
its fair proportion and upward glance ask himself as he views it, how
far the resemblance reflects his own condition, what he was designed
for, what he has made himself.
And now the attraction of its wonderful presence has drawn us nearer,
and we are sitting contemplatively under one of the large elms in the
Close where the grand proportions of the fine cathedral are before us.
Almost oppressive for a while, is the realization of its great size,
and the glance upward from the spirelets of the west front to the apex
of the glorious spire, vanishing in the blue ether. But the eye must
not dally with, nor dwell too lovingly on the delicate interlacery it
is arrayed in, for however beautiful in itself, or when viewed
alone, its decoration scarcely harmonizes with the bolder and more
largely-defined ornamental details of the structure below; and the
comparison at once assures us that this splendid addition was the
offspring of a somewhat later age, but redolent of the truest and
purest perception of architectural beauty, and was placed there with
feeling akin to the tasteful hand that completes the cluster of
gathered flowers with a tall spikelet of harmonious form, but of
otherwise almost imperceptible contrasting beauty.
[Illustration: EFFIGY OF LORD CHENEY, SALISBURY CATHEDRAL]
What words may appropriately describe this almost unrivalled picture?
Two lines from one of our greatest bards suggest themselves,--
"Simple, erect, severe, austere, sublime--
Relic of nobler days, and noblest arts!"
to which may be added that rare impression of unbroken harmony, and
the pleasant satisfaction of this feeling clothes gratefully every
aspect presented.
Singularly pleasant to the eye, also, and giving a sense of stability
to this fine building, is the noble base-line of strong moulding that
follows every length, angle, and recess, and adds the finish of
completeness from spire to basement.
We enter, and within as without all is pure, severe, and uniform, the
offspring of an age before men's minds and hands were wooed of their
strength by the blandishments of ornament, and while yet they relied
on the rare and noble simplicity of perfected outline, ever the most
difficult of achievement, and, consequently when attained, ever the
more enduring of pleasure. Those dark, slender shafts, with their
deep-cut capitals, stand with airy but decided purpose from jutting
quoin, or flank the strong arches, perfectly harmonizing with the
contour of all about them; and while they relieve the monotony or
severity of their surroundings, do not intrude on the eye, nor
distract the attention further, but quietly and unobtrusively fill the
true subsidiary position that should ever be assigned to ornament, and
nothing beyond.
Were it possible to take a stranger into the cathedral, and, ignorant
of its existence, place him under the spire, the wildest flight of
imagination could not conjure within his mind the possibility of the
existence of the noble finial that rises above his head. The piers of
the arches on which it rests afford no clue, and although somewhat
larger than those near them, are nevertheless so comparatively slender
that they would attract no notice unless carefully pointed out, and
then a glance outside, and another survey within would startle him
into an almost awe-struck realization of the consummate boldness that
planned, and ability that carried to completion, this wonderful
afterthought, and impress him that there were indeed giants in
architectural resource, even in those "dark days," as we are sometimes
pleased to call them.
Another and most distinguished charm too, finds striking witness at
Salisbury. Its chaste and simple grandeur has fairly put to the rout
the modern decorator, with his paint-pots and gold leaf,--that sturdy
and well-patronized defacer of the real, with the garniture of the
cheat. No room for him here, or but scant and in soberest guise, and
his meretricious attractions are met everywhere with the declaration
mirrored in the gleaming Purbeck, or nestling in the ghost-like
shadows that haunt the deep-cut foliage that crowns it,--there is no
beauty like reality.
Thus much for our short survey of the stately fabric. Our next inquiry
is, what is the special purpose of our visit to-day--where is the
object we are in search of? It is for the memorial of one of those
half-courtier, half-soldier chieftains, so many of whom threw their
fortune in with his, and afterward found distinguished place and
occupation at the Court and government of the first Tudor king. Where
shall we find it? With a sort of shudder we take a survey of the
assemblage of monuments lying so regularly and suspiciously disposed,
in lines under the arches of the nave. In the long array we note
effigies of templars, bishops, and knights--interposed here and
there with brassless stones--reclining for the most part on
nondescript-looking tombs, composed of heterogeneous and patchwork
materials, having little or no relationship apparently to the figures
they support. Instantly we apprehend in its fullest sense, the
sacrilegious barbarism of Wyatt, who removed almost the whole of them
from their original places in other parts of the edifice, to their
present incongruous positions, making up the tombs piecemeal from such
fragments out of the general destruction, as happened to fit, or be
available,--probably the most deplorable desecration of its kind to be
found in the annals of archaeological record, and which we wish we
could not further think of.
Singularly, almost uniquely rich was this cathedral in tombs of every
age, before this ruthless resurrectionist and invader of sepulchres
was let loose therein, toward the close of the last century to wreak
his fury. Dowsing was almost a hero in desecration, compared with the
callous and equally destructive energies of Wyatt, for while the
fanatic iconoclast had that fiercest of all flames, ignorant bigotry,
to urge him on, it was left to the 'cultivated' imagination of one,
who aspired to be thought an architect and man of taste, to set
himself up as a rival in the detestable business of spoliation, and
scarce any escaped him from the Founder downward, for Bishop Poore was
meted out the same fate, impartially as others.
Emerging from under the modern brass screen that separates the choir
from the nave, slowly we pass down the south aisle. There, is the
beautiful effigy of William Longspee, the first Earl of Sarum, son of
Henry II. and fair Rosamond, reclining on his glorious tomb, once
covered with exquisite mosaic work, the embossed lions on his
enamelled shield, chafing at the indignity of their master having been
ousted from his olden station of honour in the Lady Chapel,--Bishop de
la Wyle the founder of St. Edmund's Collegiate Church in this city at
the close of the thirteenth century,--the tomb of the unfortunate Lord
Stourton of murderer's fame and silken halter,--the martial
proportions of the second Lord Hungerford, brought hither from the
demolished Chantry erected by his wife the last Bottreaux, on the
north side of the retro-choir,--next, the tomb of Bishop Beauchamp,
the "Wykeham of his age" (for he superintended the building of St.
George's Chapel at Windsor Castle), taken from his beautiful Chantry,
that once had place opposite to Lady Hungerford's; and following him,
the interesting effigies of two other early and distinguished Bishops,
Roger, and Joceline, A.D. 1184, and brought from old Sarum! The face
of Bishop Joceline, although so old and denuded, still exhibits the
marvellous placidity of sleep, all the more so from the partial
effacement of the features, but displaying an effect no modern
sculpture could imitate.
But he whom we seek is not found among this long succession of
departed greatness, and we carefully proceed with our investigation up
the north aisle.
Here the first we meet with, is the unique and mysterious "Boy
Bishop,"--lying at length and much denuded beneath his protective iron
grating. Then we pass two "unappropriated" tombs, and next a mail-clad
effigy said to be William Longspee, second Earl of Salisbury, son of
the William on the other side,--then a fine figure of a knight in
bascinet and surcoat, John de Montacute, with fortunately a
considerable portion of the original tomb below him. Whom does this
desolate-looking pair of brassless stones, side by side record, with
indent of man and wife still apparent on them? Ah! the emblem powdered
on the stone,--the _harvest sickle_,--unravels their story, and a
feeling of sadness pervades us, as we recognize in them the memorials
that once covered the dust of Walter, the first Lord Hungerford--father
of Robert on the opposite side--and Katharine Peverel his wife, shifted
here about a century since, as an inscription on them informs us, "by
Jacob C. Radnor," when he removed the beautiful iron-work Chantry in
which they originally had appropriate place, and carried it away to the
east end of the choir to do duty as a 'family pew.'
There is but one more effigy, you say,--as we turn from this last
memorial of the long sequence of departed and 'translated'
worthies--and that must be him whom we seek. A glance at the tall
armoured figure immediately assures us that he is found, Sir John
Cheney, Baron of that name; and a stout adherent of the first Tudor
sovereign, Henry VII.
The family of Cheney, as we have previously noted,[26] was a wide
spreading one in the south of England, and, according to Burke,
derived their descent from a common ancestor, Ralph de Caineto, who
came to England with the Conqueror.
[26] See page 4.
Sir John, of the monument before us, was of Kentish extraction.
William, the son of Sir Alexander Cheney, married Margaret, daughter
and heir of Sir Robert de Shurland, of Shurland in the parish of
Eastchurch, in the Isle of Sheppey. He died 8 Edward III., 1333,
leaving issue Robert, who left issue Sir Richard of Shurland, who
married Elizabeth, daughter of Robert Cralle, of Cralle, Sussex, by
whom he left two sons, William of Shurland, and Richard of Cralle.
Sir William Cheney of Shurland, Sheriff of Kent, 13 Henry IV.,
1412,--1 Henry V., 1414,--2 Henry VI., 1424, Knight of the Shire for
Kent, 3 Henry V., 1418, died 21 Henry VI., 1443, and was buried with
Margaret his wife in St. Benet's church, Paul's Wharf, London.
He was succeeded by his son Sir John, Knight of the Shire for Kent, 27
Henry VI., 1449, and Sheriff 33 Henry VI., 1455. He married Eleanor,
daughter and coheiress of Sir Robert de Shottisbroke, knt., and sister
to Margaret, Duchess of Somerset. There were two sons, John and
William.
Sir William, second son, was Sheriff of Kent 7 Edward IV., 1467, and I
Henry VII., 1486, was appointed Constable of Queenborough Castle, the
same year. He was twice married; by his first wife had one son, Sir
Francis Cheney, who succeeded his father as Constable of Queenborough
Castle, and died without issue; and by his second wife one son,
Thomas, who became his uncle John's heir. (Hasted.)
Sir John Cheney, the eldest son, of Shurland, is the subject of our
narrative. He appears to be the first of this numerous and influential
race that reached the honour of the peerage.[27]
[27] Sir William Cheney, Chief Justice of England, had summons to
Parliament among the barons of the realm,--4, 5 and 6 Henry VI.,
1426-8. (Hasted.) Query if the Sir William who died 1443. His
name does not appear among the extinct peerages. In the church of
"Saint Michaels Pater-noster in the old Royall," Weever notes the
following inscription:--"_Prey of yowr cherete for the souls of
Agnes Cheyney, wydow, late wyff vnto William Cheney, somtym
Esquyr for the Body vnto King Harry the seuenth. Whyche Agnes
dyed the fyfteenth day of July in the yere of our Lord God on
thowsand four hundred eyghty and seven. And for the souls of
William Cheyney, Robert Molyneux, and Robert Sheryngton her
husbands, and all Cristen souls._"
We first hear of him in 1465, when he was one of the Commissioners
sent to treat with the King of Denmark, accompanied by Dr. Goldwell,
Dean of Salisbury. He is here called "_strenuus miles_," probably from
his great stature and strength.
In 1475, where he is termed Esquire of the King's body, with a retinue
of seven men at arms, including himself, he accompanied the English
army to Calais, in the expedition to France by Edward IV., when that
king was first deceived and then out-manoeuvred by the Dukes of
Brittany and Burgundy, and afterward bought off from all his martial
intentions by the French king Louis XI., promising to pay him
seventy-two thousand crowns down, and a yearly pension of fifty
thousand crowns for life,--marry his son the Dauphin to Edward's
daughter Elizabeth (afterward wife to Henry VII.), and a further sum
of fifty thousand crowns as a ransom for the release of the widowed
Queen Margaret. Louis, remembering Crecy and Agincourt, was
exceedingly anxious to see the backs of the English turned on France,
and besides all this money, or the promise of it, sent to Edward
"three hundred waggon loads of wine," and further cartloads for the
use of his army; and "at length the French king's fears vanished with
the departure of the English, who went away extremely pleased with the
French gold and wine, while the pensions assigned to Edward's
principal courtiers amounted to sixteen thousand crowns a year."
Among the "principal courtiers" who were recipients of this inglorious
spoil, Sir John Cheney's name is given as one, and associated with him
were Thomas Grey, Marquis of Dorset, William, Lord Hastings, his
wife's father-in-law, the King's Chamberlain, and Dr. Thomas Morton,
born at Bere-Regis, in Dorset,--then Master of the Rolls, and
afterward Cardinal and Archbishop of Canterbury; all west-country
names of great interest connected with our little annals. It was
however stipulated by his French majesty, after seeing Edward, and
swearing the treaty, that John, Lord Howard, and Sir John Cheney,
Master of the Horse, should be left as hostages, until the King of
England (after receiving the seventy-two thousand crowns) had passed
the seas with his army. Edward, after receiving the money, embarked
his forces with all expedition, and Howard and Cheney remained until
his arrival in England, during which interval they were entertained
"very nobly" by the French king.
We do not find him further mentioned during the reign of Edward IV.,
or the short rule of his unfortunate son, but soon after the
usurpation of Richard III., he was among those who gave his adhesion
to the Countess of Richmond (mother of Henry VII.) being won over to
the interest of her son by her trusty envoy, Sir Reginald Braye, and
with him was Sir Giles Daubeney, and other influential men.
This being so, in due time, which occurred almost immediately, in 1483
he joined in the movement--so unfortunate as it turned out--of Henry
Stafford, Duke of Buckingham, and was associated with the Courtenays,
the Marquis of Dorset, and others forming the western contingent,
being in arms against the king, near Salisbury. On the dispersion of
Buckingham's followers through the Severn inundation, Sir John Cheney
and his companions made their escape safely across to France, where
they joined the Earl of Richmond. His name was included in the
Proclamation issued against the insurgent fugitives by Richard, with
rewards offered therein proportionate to their station, on
apprehension.
It is probable Sir John remained with, or near Richmond, in France,
until his final expedition to England, in which he doubtless
accompanied him, and on landing, proceeded with the Earl's army on
their march through Wales to Bosworth.[28]
This memorable engagement which took place on the 22nd of August 1484,
has been ably described by many pens, and its incidents, beyond those
having reference directly to our story, need not be
[28] Among the "Knightes made at the landinge of Kinge Henry the
Seventh at Mylforde Haven," fourth on the list occurs Sir John
Cheney. His arms are thus given,--Quarterly 1 and 4, _Azure, six
lioncels rampant argent, a canton ermine; 2 and 3, Ermine, a chief
per pale indented or and gules, in the dexter side a rose of the
last_ (SHOTISBROOKE). Crest, _Two bull's horns argent, separated
from the scalp, roots or, "fixed to the mantels without torce_."
(Metcalfe's _Book of Knights_.) recapitulated here. Our hero has
special traditional fame connected with the fray, if not of the
most fortunate kind, as will be seen.
In addition to the stream of deserters from his own army to that of
his rivals, which met Richard's eyes on that eventful day, the
defection of Lord Stanley, a misfortune of the first magnitude,
assured Richard that no time was to be lost, if he hoped to save his
crown. So, gathering a muster of as many as remained true to him, he
made a direct and magnificent charge into the centre of his foes'
line, striving gallantly to recover his fortune. Leading them in
person, he fought his way directly to his adversary's standard, and
"in his furie he manfully overthrew Sir William Brandon, the Earle's
Standard-bearer, and Sir John Cheney, both men of mightie force and
knowne valiancie," and he nearly reached Richmond himself. Hollingshed
thus describes it,--
"King Richard set on so sharplie at the first brunt, that he
ouerthrew the Erles standard, and slue Sir William Brandon, his
standard bearer, (which was father to Sir Charles Brandon by King
Henrie the eight created Duke of Suffolk,) and matched hand to
hand with Sir John Cheinie, a man of great force and strength,
which would haue resisted him, but the said John was by him
manfullie ouerthrowen. And so he making open passage by dint of
sword as he went forward, the Earle of Richmond withstood his
violence, and kept him at the sword's point without aduantage,
longer than either his companions thought or judged, which being
almost in despair of victorie, were suddenly recomforted by Sir
William Stanlie, which came to his soccour with three thousand
tall men. At which verie instant King Richard's men were driven
back and fled, and he himself manfullie fighting in the middle of
his enemies was slaine."
The old chronicler, as a matter of course, pays Richmond the
compliment of his "keeping him at the sword's point without
advantage," but other accounts relate that the Earl was in no hurry to
cross weapons with his redoubtable and now desperate antagonist, and
was doubtless greatly "recomforted" at Stanley's opportune defection,
with his "soccour of three thousand tall men."
That Richmond had a narrow escape is evident, Sir William Brandon his
Standard-Bearer, was killed, and Sir John Cheney, giant in stature as
he was, was unhorsed--"manfully overthrown"--by the comparatively
diminutive, deformed King himself. Then a swarm of assailants closed
round Richard, and he was hurled to the earth, and remorselessly
despatched with many wounds.
Whatever may be said of Richard as to the degrading characteristics of
his previous career, one thing stands out in strong relief, his
undoubted courage, which on this decisive occasion was of the highest
order, and claims its full meed of admiration, especially considering
the disadvantages of his person, and he closed his life with the fate
of a hero.
Simultaneously with Richard's death, if it was not its actual cause,
Sir William Stanley following the example of his brother, just at that
juncture crossed over with his forces to Richmond's side, which
virtually decided the combat, and the battle was ended. The grateful
Henry requited Stanley's inestimable service, thus so opportunely
given, by putting him to death a few years later, on a very
questionable and frivolous charge.
The naked, bloody, dirt-begrimed corpse of the last King of the White
Rose, having been picked out from amongst the slain, was thrown
contemptuously over the back of a horse,--"like a calf,"--head hanging
down on one side and legs on the other, behind a pursuivant of arms
called _Blanc Sanglier_, being the officer called after Richard's own
badge, the _White Boar_, or _Boar argent_, doubtless so done in
derision, and sent off to Leicester, and the battered, blood-stained
helmet-crown of the Plantagenet usurper was lifted from the mud and
placed upon the head of the Tudor invader.
But had fortune favoured Richard a little further, so that he could
have got within weapon's length of his adversary, the untoward fate
that befell him, may have been Richmond's instead, and a different
chapter altogether substituted as to the future sovereignty of
England.
In common with the associates of conquerors, the adherents of the
first Tudor king got their due proportion of rewards and honours at
his hands, and Sir John Cheney was not forgotten.
The first distinction he received was conferred a short time before
Henry's coronation, which took place in October, 1485. Three of the
king's highest adherents received patents of nobility, and twelve
others were created Knights-Banneret; among these Sir John Cheney
stood second on the list. He was also soon after created a Knight of
the Garter, being the two hundred and thirty-seventh in the
succession, and Dodsworth says, "it was on St. George's Day preceding
the coronation, and that he sat at the first table in the right aisle
of St. George's Hall, Windsor." At the end of the first Parliament,
toward the end of the year, the king called him to his Privy Council.
But the most considerable honour yet awaited him, which took place in
1487, when by writ of summons dated the first of September in that
year he was raised to the dignity of a Baron, and summoned to
Parliament as such from that period to the 14 October, 1495. He held
the office also of Royal Standard-Bearer to Henry VII.
In 1487, John de la Pole, Earl of Lincoln, "a man of talents and
enterprise, nephew to Edward IV., Richard III., and Margaret, widow of
Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy," Henry's uncompromising and
implacable enemy, accompanied by Francis, Viscount Lovel (who had been
Lord Chamberlain to Richard III.) Fitz-Gerald, Earl of Kildare, the
redoubtable Martin Swartz, with a large contingent of veteran Germans,
and Irish, having crossed over from Ireland, landed on the fourth of
June at Fourdrey in Furness in Lancashire. There they were joined by
Sir Thomas Broughton, and the English adherents, and with this motley
army was Lambert Simnel, and his tutor Richard Simons the Oxford
priest; they marched into Yorkshire, and thence bent southward to
Newark. Henry had assembled as numerous an army as he could muster and
marched to Nottingham, but was not in sufficient force to give his
antagonists battle. There he was reinforced by the Earl of Derby and a
body of troops, and also by Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, Lord Strange,
Sir John Cheney, "and other knights and gentlemen at least three
score," bringing with them large additional forces. The king succeeded
in occupying Newark before the Earl of Lincoln could reach it, and
advanced to East-Stoke, about three miles south of Newark. Here the
determined battle of Stoke took place on the sixteenth of June; the
Germans fought with great determination, but the Earl's forces were
totally routed and all their leaders, except Lord Lovel, slain,
fighting to the last sword in hand.
Lord Lovel is reported to have escaped, and his fate has been
enshrined in a halo of romance. By some he is said to have been killed
in the battle, by others "that he fled and swam over the Trent on
horseback, but could not recover on account of the steepness of the
bank, and so was drowned in the river." But there is also this
remarkable story of his disappearance,--
"On the 6th of May, 1728, the present Duke of Rutland, related in
my hearing, that about twenty years there before, in 1708, upon
occasion of new laying a chimney, at Minster Lovel, there was
discovered a large vault or room under ground, in which was the
entire skeleton of a man, as having been sitting at a table,
which was before him, with a book, paper, pen, &c., &c., in
another part of the room lay a cap all much mouldered and
decayed. Which the family judged to be this Lord Lovel, whose
exit, has hitherto been so uncertain." (Banks.) While another
account adds, "that the clothing of the body, seemed to have been
rich; that it was seated in a chair, with a table and mass-book
before it; and also that, upon the admission of the air, the body
soon fell to dust." (Gough.)
Previous to the battle another honour was conferred on him,--for among
the "Banerettes made by the Kinge at the batell of Stoke besydes
Newarke-upon-Trent the IX. day of June Anno Sec'do, whereof the first
three wer made before the batell,"--the second name occurring is that
of Sir John Cheney. (Metcalfe.)
In 1488 Sir John "received orders with other persons in Hampshire to
levy archers for the relief of Brittany then threatened by the
French," and in 1492 appears to have accompanied Henry's grand
expedition to France, the flotilla being under the command of Lord
Willoughby de Broke, as Admiral of the Fleet, and with Lord Daubeney
as one of the principal commanders and ambassadors.
Here again money, and not the sword, decided the fortune of war, and
it is curious, that one of the articles of this treaty of Etaples
should be, that "the king of France (Charles VIII.) should pay the
king of England the arrears of the yearly pension of fifty thousand
crowns paid by Louis XI. to Edward IV., amounting in all to one
hundred and twenty-five thousand crowns, which is twenty-five thousand
pounds sterling."
This was the payment of the old debt contracted by the French king in
1475, to Edward IV., who was also to have the English king's daughter
Elizabeth for his wife. Now, however, Henry was married to the lady
instead, but he did not forget, when opportunity offered, to press for
the arrears of the pension, due to her late father. Sir John Cheney
was credited with getting a little plunder out of the first
transaction in 1475, and it is probable that he did not come
empty-handed out of this, the second, although he does not seem to
have been one of the English ambassadors chosen to meet the astute
Marshal d'Esquerdes.
No further record appears of Lord Cheney's services, and he died
without issue in 1496, when the title became extinct. He devised his
estates to his nephew Sir Thomas Cheney, of Toddington, Bedfordshire.
Lord Cheney "was the friend, if not the relation of Bishop Beauchamp,
for he was appointed one of his executors, and was buried in the
Chapel erected by that prelate, in Salisbury Cathedral" (Dodsworth).
He now lies under the first arch from the choir, in the north aisle of
the nave. The Chapel of this prelate as it appeared before its
destruction by Wyatt is thus described in Sir R. C. Hoare's _Modern
Wiltshire_,--
"The Beauchamp Chapel as a specimen of art, was in every respect
worthy of the builder of the Collegiate Chapel of St. George at
Windsor. It was larger than that of Lord Hungerford, and
displayed the elaborate and richly ornamented style of the age.
It was lighted by three windows to the south, with buttresses
between, and a large window at the east end, and was finished
with an embattled parapet. The remains of the prelate reposed
under a plain marble tomb in the centre, and in the wall on the
north side, separating it from the Lady Chapel, beneath canopies
of exquisite tabernacle work, were those of his father and
mother. An altar tomb in the south-west corner, surmounted also
with a florid canopy covered those of Sir John Cheyney, his
friend, and one of his executors. The Chapel was divided into two
compartments, by an arch, on which were the armorial bearings of
the Founder. Round the wall ran a cornice of delicately wrought
fan-work and foliage, and the ceiling of carved oak, assimilated
perfectly with the rest of the edifice."
Some portions of this "delicately wrought fan-work" is still to be
seen among the _debris_ of sculpture remaining in the cloisters.
Bishop Beauchamp was younger son of Walter Beauchamp (younger son of
John, Lord Beauchamp of Powyke), by Elizabeth, daughter of Sir John
Roche, and brother to William Beauchamp, Lord St. Amand. He is
supposed to have been the first Chancellor of the Order of the Garter,
was consecrated Bishop of Salisbury in 1450, afterward translated to
Hereford; and died 1481.
The effigy of John, Lord Cheney, sculptured in alabaster, is of large
size, and the costume is of most interesting military character. He
appears clad in complete plate armour, with skirt and collar of mail,
and armed with sword and misericorde. The Garter is around the left
leg, and he wears a large dependant collar of S.S., from which hangs,
instead of the usual figure of St. George and the Dragon, an unique
Tudor jewel, or badge, formed of a Portcullis, on which is
super-imposed a Double Rose. Over the armour is the robe or mantle of
the Order, fastened across the chest with cordon and tassels. On the
left shoulder is embroidered the Garter. The head is bare, and the
hair parted in the centre of the forehead, descends in large waves to
the shoulders. The fingers and thumbs of both hands are adorned with
rings, the feet rest on a lion, and behind the sole of the left foot
is sculptured an oak leaf, on the right is apparently a scroll. Angels
support the head.
The structure on which the effigy reclines is composed probably of no
portion of the original tomb. It partly consists of traceried panels
of Purbeck marble, having shields in their centres, on which were
formerly brasses.
As has been observed, Lord Cheney was interred in the beautiful
Chantry of his friend, Bishop Richard Beauchamp, which was situate on
the north side of the Lady Chapel, opposite Lady Hungerford's. The
Bishop, who died in 1481, was also buried within it, and according to
Leland, with his father and mother on either side of him "in marble
tumbes." Wyatt demolished the Chantry, and removed both Bishop and
Knight to the nave, and during the confusion of the desecration, the
Bishop's tomb appears to have been lost or mislaid, his bones now rest
in some one else's, taken from one of the transepts, wherein no
remains at all were found. The Knight's tomb, probably formed of
Purbeck marble, was too far gone with decay to bear 'translation.'
"In the last repairs," says Dodsworth, "the effigy (Sir J. Cheney's)
was removed, and as the original tomb was totally decayed, the present
base was formed from part of the ornaments that belonged to the
Beauchamp Chapel. His skeleton was found entire, and justified the
fame of his extraordinary stature and strength. The thigh bone
measured above twenty-one inches, or near four inches longer than the
natural size. These bones were enclosed in a box, and entrusted to the
care of the writer, until the tomb was replaced, when they were
deposited within, and the name of the deceased, with the date of the
removal, inscribed on the cover." The act of a true and reverential
man.
The substituted tomb of Sir John Cheney's friend the Bishop, is on the
other side of the nave.
The arms of Cheney (of Shurland) are recorded as, _Argent, on a bend
sable, three martlets or_, quartering, _Azure, five lioncels argent, a
canton ermine_,--or according to another authority, _Azure, six
lioncels, three, two, one, argent_ (SHURLAND). No arms are visible at
Salisbury.
At the death of Lord Cheney, his property devolved to his nephew and
heir, Sir Thomas Cheney, son of his brother Sir William Cheney.
The scene of our little history now shifts from the broad chalk downs
of south Wilts, to the kindred chalk measures of south-west
Bedfordshire, and for a short time intermediately to northern Kent,
the original seat of the family of Cheney.
Sir Thomas Cheney, nephew and heir of John, Lord Cheney, K.G., married
first Frideswide, daughter and coheiress of Sir Thomas Frowyke, knt.,
Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas. By her he had three
daughters: Catherine married to Thomas Kemp, Esq., of Glendich, Kent;
Frances, to Nicholas Crips, Esq., son and heir of Sir Henry Crips,
knt.; Anne, to Sir John Perrot, knt.; and Margaret, to George Nevill,
Lord Abergavenny. (Burke.)
Secondly, he married Anne, daughter and coheiress of Sir John
Broughton, knight, of Toddington, Bedfordshire, by his wife Mary
daughter and heiress of Thomas Peyvre, lord of the manor of
Toddington, by whom he acquired the estate. By her he had one son
Henry (afterward Lord Cheney), his successor.
Sir Thomas is described as having been "a person of great gallantry
and note in the reign of Henry VIII., accompanied that monarch to the
field of the Cloth of Gold, where he was one of the challengers
against all gentlemen, who were to exercise feats of arms on horseback
or on foot for thirty days."
He was created by Henry VIII. Knight of the Garter, Warden of the
Cinque Ports, and Treasurer of the Household. Upon the death of Edward
VI., he espoused the interests of Queen Mary, and was called to the
Privy Council by Queen Elizabeth in the first year of her reign, which
same year he died, 1558-9, and was buried at Minster in Kent.