A plague on Egypt’s arts, I say!
Embalm the dead! On senseless clay
Rich wines and spices waste!
Like sturgeon, or like brawn, shall I
Bound in a precious pickle lie,
Which I can never taste?
Let me embalm this flesh of mine
With turtle fat, and Bourdeaux wine,
And spoil th’ Egyptian trade!
Than good Duke Humphrey, happier I,
Embalmed alive, old Quin shall die
A Mummy ready made!
<g>The Chapel</g> of Our Lady, which is now converted into a public school,
presents in its architecture the same style and embellishments which
distinguish the most highly-finished ecclesiastical structures of its
time. The entrance from the south in the “olden time,” as here
represented in the engraving, is one of the most effective points of
view. To describe minutely, would be only to load our pages with
unnecessary repetition; for nothing in the form of words can adequately
convey the great elegance and beauty which predominate throughout the
whole edifice. To be rightly understood and appreciated, it must be
seen; and of this the admirers of antiquity seem fully aware, for the
numbers who continually resort to the Abbey church for the study and
improvement of architectural science, bear ample testimony to the
exquisite materials which it offers for that purpose. The erection of
new churches, and the restoration of others in a dilapidated state, are
greatly facilitated by the numerous models, in every department, which
are here thrown open for imitation. Artists are seen taking casts;
others measuring the proportions, comparing the drawings, selecting the
beauties, and copying the example of whatever is chaste in design or
exquisite in workmanship. In short, the Abbey of St. Albans may be
considered as a vast museum, or school of arts, where the student may
improve and perfect his designs upon the best models; and which, were
every other lost, might still supply the elements for constructing a
masterpiece of ecclesiastical Architecture.
[Illustration]
All the subjects in this superb Abbey, to which we have thus briefly
adverted, are more or less striking in their kind; yet the effect is
peculiarly enhanced or diminished according to the season and hour
selected for the visit. The glare of noon, and the sober light of
evening, produce effects which are scarcely credible to those who are
not familiarized to such contrasts; but in no instance have we ever seen
this venerable and majestic pile to such advantage as during our recent
visit, when we resolved to take a view after the twilight had passed
away, and the still deep shadows of night had thrown their mantle over
the scene. One of our party, who is an excellent judge and an
enthusiastic admirer of “Gothic grandeur,” strongly advised us to make a
survey by torch-light; but to this certain objections were started,
which it became necessary to respect. Reluctantly abandoning the torch,
we sallied forth into the sacred precincts under the dim light of a
westering moon, and, sauntering along in a silent contemplative mood,
enjoyed a treat of which the noon-day visitor can form no adequate
conception. It afforded what may be truly called a “night at St.
Alban’s,” and seemed to address us in the words of the poet--
“Ye, whose high spirit dares to dwell
Beyond the reach of earthly spell,
And tread upon the dizzy verge
Of unknown worlds, or downward urge,
Thro’ ages dim, your steadfast sight,
And trace their shapes of shadow’d light;
Oh! come with meek, submitted thought,
With lifted eye by rapture taught,
And o’er your head the gloom shall rise
Of monkish chambers, still and wide,
As once they stood: and to your eyes
Group after group shall slowly glide,
And here again their duties ply--
As they were wont, long ages by.”
The entrance to Lady-chapel from the north, of which a view has been
already given at page 80, is particularly characteristic and
picturesque. The massive square tower, showing at intervals its Roman
materials and ancient masonry, throws a solemn and stately grandeur over
the scene. It seems, while we look upon its scars, as if covered with
hieroglyphics which embody the sacred and political history of a
thousand years, during which it has been a cherished landmark to the
pilgrim, a home to the weary, and an object of sanguinary contention
between rival armies.
“Here to its hospitable gate,
In want or woe, the pilgrim came;
For at its portal Pity sate,
To dry the tears of sin and shame.
And here have armies on their march,
And monarchs with their chiefs of fame,
Paused, as beneath that lofty arch
Their lips invoked St. Alban’s name.”
The great western entrance has a very imposing aspect, and conveys to
the spectator’s mind those ideas of ecclesiastical magnificence which
can only be inspired by the noblest constructions of art--such as are
here presented to his contemplation. It consists of a projecting porch,
elaborately ornamented, niched and pillared, and subdivided into
numerous compartments, upon which the artist’s chisel has been most
skilfully employed.
“Beside this porch, on either hand,
Giant buttresses darkly stand,
And still their silent vanguard hold
For bleeding knights, laid here of old;
And Mercian Offa and his queen,
The portal’s guard and grace, are seen.
This western front shows various style,
Less ancient than the central pile.
It seems some shade of parted years
Left watching o’er the mouldering dead,
Who here for pious Henry bled;
And here, beneath the wide-stretch’d ground
Of nave, of choir, of chapels round,
For ever--ever rest the head.”
Over the entrance is the magnificent window, shown in the steel plate:
it occupies nearly the whole breadth of the nave, and through its
numerous mullioned and transomed squares, pours a flood of light upon
the long Gothic aisles as far as the high Altar. To see the interior of
the church to the greatest advantage, the spectator should take his
station at this entrance, and at that hour after mid-day when the light
and shade are brought into strongest contrast.
[Illustration]
In the south Aisle, nearly opposite the steps leading into the Chapel of
St. Alban, is the subject of the annexed cut. It is an oblong table of
stone, covered with a massive slab of dark marble, which is considered
to be of a rare and precious quality. It is marked with several small
crosses, rudely traced, and, as we were told by our cicerone, is the
original Altar-table of the Monastery, which, after the suppression of
the latter in 1539, was removed from the choir.
This Aisle, including the exterior of Abbot Whethamstead’s monument on
the left--that of Duke Humphrey in the distance--the entrance to the
shrine of the patron saint between, and with the outer doorway arches,
windows, and altar on the right, is one of the most interesting scenes
in the church. Standing by this altar of a thousand years, the lines of
the French poet possess a force which in any other situation would be
scarcely felt:
Les arcs de ce long clôitre, impénétrable au jour,
Les degrés de l’autel usés par la prière,
Ces noirs vitraux, ce sombre et profond sanctuaire,
Où peut-être des cœurs, en secret malheureux,
A l’inflexible autel se plaignoient de leurs nœuds,
Et, pour des souvenirs encore trop pleins de charmes,
A la religion dérobaient quelques larmes--
Tout parle, tout émeut dans ce séjour sacré!
<g>The Gate-House</g>, with its ponderous oaken doors still closing the lofty
pointed archway, is a massive and cumbrous pile of building, and has all
the rude
[Illustration]
strength of a fortress crowned with embattled walls. It stands parallel
with the west end of the church, at the distance of about one hundred
and fifty feet, and formed the original grand entrance to the
Abbey-court, which was bounded, at the distance of about three hundred
feet, by a lower gate leading to the Abbey Mills. Both these gateways
were originally crowned with turrets. The smaller gate has long since
disappeared; and the larger fabric, which still survives the shock of
centuries, has undergone many alterations in recent times, as is
sufficiently apparent in the view annexed. The massive oak doors, still
firm on their hinges, are good specimens of ancient carpentry. This gate
is said to have been built in the reign of Richard the Second, and is
every way characteristic of that age of treason and feudal splendour.
The lower apartments were appropriated to malefactors under the
jurisdiction of the Lord Abbot; and, with the exception of the order
having been reversed--by converting the upper rooms to a similar
purpose--it is still the prison for the borough and liberty of St.
Albans.
The high and distinguishing privileges enjoyed by the spiritual lords of
this Abbey gave them precedence of every other in the kingdom. “The
king,” says Weever, “could make no secular officer over them but by
their own consent; they were alone quit from paying that apostolical
custome and rent which was called Rom-scot, or Peter-pence; whereas
neyther kinge, archbishop, bishop, abbot, prior, nor any one in the
kingdom, was freed from the payment thereof. The Abbot also, or monk
appointed archdeacon under him, had pontifical jurisdiction over all the
priests and laymen, of all the possessions belonging to this church, so
as he yielded subjection to no archbishop, bishop, or legate, save onely
to the Pope of Rome. This Abbot had the fourth place among the Abbots
which sate as Barons in the Parliament House.” “Howsoever, Pope Adrian
the Fourth, whose surname was Breakspeare, born hereby at
Abbots-Langley, granted this indulgence to the Abbots of this
monasterie, namely--that as Saint Alban was distinctly known to be the
first martyr of the English nation, so the Abbot of this monasterie
should at all times, among other Abbots of England, in degree of
dignity, be reported first and principal. The Abbot and convent of this
house were acquitted of all toll throughout England. They made Justices
‘ad audiendum et terminandum,’ within themselves, and no other Justice
could call them for any matter out of their libertie. They made
Bayliffes and Coroners; they had the execution and returne of all writs,
the goodes of all outlaws, with gaole and gaole deliverie within
themselves.”--These particulars have been carefully embodied in a poem
on the subject, from which we have already quoted. In the prosperous
days of the Abbey, several apartments were built exclusively for the use
of strangers.[75] These adjoined the cloisters; and beyond them, in a
separate range of buildings, were the king’s and the queen’s
apartments.[76] But notwithstanding this preparation for visitors, and
these indirect invitations, it would seem, on the authority of Matthew
Paris, that some of the earlier “monarchs came too often, or at least
with too cumbrous suites.”
The princely state which the Abbots maintained in their style of living,
in their table and retinue, partook much more of regal splendour than of
religious restriction. The scene, as exhibited on a festal day in the
Abbey, is thus effectively sketched by Mrs. Ann Radcliffe:--
... The stately walls, with tapestry richly dight,
Of the <g>Abbot’s</g> banquet-hall, where, as on throne,
He sat at the high dais, like prince alone,
Save when a Royal guest came here,
Or papal Legate claimed a chair.
Here marble platforms, flight o’er flight,
Slow rising through the long-lined view,
Showed tables spread at different height,
Where each for different rank he knew.
And, with pleased glance adown the hall,
Saw Bishops in their far-sought palle,
The Abbey’s noble Seneschal;
Barons and Earls in gold array,
And warrior knights in harness gray.
There was the Prior’s delegated sway;
The grave Archdeacon sat below,
And the hundred Monks in row and row,
Not robed in dismal sable they
Upon a high and festal day,
But all in capes most costly and most gay.
There too the Abbey Marshal shone;
And there, beside the Abbot’s throne,
Chaplain of honour from the Pope alone.”
The battles, of which the immediate vicinity of St. Albans has been the
theatre, are familiar to every reader of history.[77] In connection with
our immediate subject, however, we may briefly advert to them as
melancholy contrasts to that peace and religious tranquillity which were
supposed to be the cherished inmates of this magnificent sanctuary.
[Sidenote:
The first {
battle. {
1455. {
]
It was now, says Newcome, when the first battle of St. Albans happened;
the causes of which it is unnecessary to relate. Suffice it to say, that
the king attended with his nobles, or such as were of his council, and a
number of armed troops came down from London; and probably with the view
that a treaty with the Duke of York might be carried on with less
interruption or danger from the military. The duke was coming from the
north; and brought with him 3000 men of that body which he had raised
there, and took part in the great field on the east side of the town,
called Key-field. The king’s men had barricadoed all the avenues on that
side. The cry among the Yorkists was, “Give up the Duke of Somerset;”
but no concession of this sort being made, the duke’s men broke into St.
Peter’s Street; and being there met by the royalists, a dreadful
conflict ensued; where, after many were slain, the king’s party lost
courage and fled, leaving their sovereign alone, and standing under his
standard. He, perceiving himself thus deserted, walked away into a small
house, that of a baker; and here the duke finding him, led him out, and
conducted him to the Abbey, where he first placed him close to the
shrine, whether for safety and sanctuary, or to induce him to return
thanks for his safety. He then conducted him to the royal apartments,
and the next day to London. The effeminacy of the king’s men, and to
which is ascribed the loss of the battle, is thus described by our
author, who saw both parties, and writes of them thus:--
Quicquid ad Eoos tractusque regni tepores
Vergitur, emollit animos Clementia Cœli: et
Omnis in arctois sanguis quicunque pruinis
Nascitur, indomitus bellis, et mortis amator.
The duke’s men fell to plundering the town, but, by the commands of the
duke, they abstained from doing any injury to the Abbey; but the Abbot
[Illustration]
thought it necessary to send out to them great quantities of victuals
and wine, and this, together with the protecting hand of the martyr, as
my author asserts, preserved the Abbey and church from any injury by
spoil and depredation. The slain lay thick in the upper street, and at
the division of the ways about the market; and among them were seen the
dead bodies of Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset; of Henry Percy, Earl
of Northumberland; and of Thomas Clifford, Lord Clifford. But because
they were persons well known to be hateful to the Duke of York when
alive, none ventured to prepare for their funerals, or showed any decent
regard to their dead bodies. Whereupon Abbot John addressed the duke,
and begged him to spare the vanquished, and suffer some honours to be
paid to the deceased--“Not enemies will I call them,” says he, “but your
relations by blood,--your fellow patriots.” And saying more to recommend
moderation in his victory, the duke commanded him to take the bodies and
provide for their funerals. The Abbot then caused some of the brethren
to go forth and take up the deceased. This being done, and the dead
bodies received into the church and laid out in decent order, in a few
days the funeral obsequies were performed, and the bodies had interment
in the chapel of the Blessed Virgin. They were laid in the ground
“lineali ordine, juxta statum, gradum, et honorem, dignitatis. Unde de
his dominis et de eorum sepulturâ scribitur in ista formâ:”[78]--
Quos Mars, quos Martis sors sæva suæque sororis,
Bello prostrarunt, villæ medioque necarunt.
Mors sic occisos tumulaverat his simul ipsos,
Postque necem requiem causavit habere perhennem,
Est medium sine quo vult sic requiescere nemo:
Hic lis, hic pugna, mors est quæ terminat arma;
Mors, sors, et mavors, qui straverunt dominos hos.
During a period of more than seven centuries, “this Abbey continued to
flourish with various improvements, under the government of no less than
forty-one Abbots, many of whom enriched it with additional buildings and
treasures; so that its extent was in proportion to its immense estates,
and more resembled a town than a religious establishment. To its
apartments we have already adverted. Here, in 1215, King John, during
his opposition to the Barons, ‘held a grand consultation’ in the
Chapter-house; here also Louis the Dauphin, who arrived shortly after,
exacted a heavy contribution for carrying on the war, in which he had
been invited to take part. Henry the Second and Henry the Third were
often entertained by the Abbots of St. Albans, and were liberal
benefactors to the monastery;” but the eighth Henry, as every reader is
aware, pursued the opposite course. Its funds were appropriated to state
purposes, its privileges abolished, its inmates dismissed; but the
fabric itself, comparatively, suffered little from the violence of the
transition.
In a careful perusal of the history of this monastery, the reader will
find abundant materials for reflection. The lives of the Abbots, as
recorded by a member of their own body, present many instructive
anecdotes and examples of the civil and religious government, the state
of society, the progress of science, and that encouragement of the arts
over which they exercised so direct and beneficial an influence.
“Although originally subject to the Diocesan, the Lord Abbot gradually
advanced in external splendour till the Abbey-church became a rival to
the Cathedral; and this,” as Newcome has observed, “went on till, at
the Dissolution, the mitred Abbots, who had laboured for pre-eminence,
outnumbered the Bishops in the House of Lords, amounting in 1514 to
twenty-eight, whilst the Bishops were only eighteen or nineteen.”
There were many other considerations that tended to give the Monks power
and consequence; and Abbeys were found to be such beneficial
institutions, that they would have stood their ground to the present
day, had not their great possessions and revenues tempted indigent
courtiers “to combine and plot against them.” “Their utility,” continues
the same author, “appeared in these respects, that they exercised great
hospitality towards the poor; and this was done at one-tenth of the
expense which the poor now (1790) create, by being maintained by a legal
provision. The monastery was the house of reception for all the sick,
who were here nursed, spiritually consoled, and cured. The monastery
generally employed masters to teach the poor children of the
neighbourhood; entertained all persons who were ingenious in any art or
science, and transcribed books when few understood the art, or could
undertake it. There is now extant a chronicle composed and printed at
St. Albans, in 1484, under the countenance then given to this particular
Abbey by Richard the Third.”
“These old religious houses kept public registers of all great public
transactions; and to them we are indebted for all our English historians
down to the period of the Dissolution. They were possessed of all the
learning that was in any repute at the time prior to the coming of the
friars. The monasteries, in general, furnished the men who were fit for
embassies abroad, or for offices of trust and distinction at home: and
to their honour it is recorded, that all the inferior officers, both in
the courts of law and in the civil departments of the Government, who
are called clerks, owe this appellation to the religious houses, Abbeys
or Cathedrals, from which the first officers were taken. The landed
property belonging to these houses at the time of the Dissolution was so
great, that it was computed at one-third of the kingdom. Yet, whatever
were their temporal possessions, they were always found to be good
landlords, ever ready to forward improvements, and accomplishing many
great works in draining, enclosing, and planting, which could never have
been undertaken by individuals.” “In truth,” adds the historian quoted,
“they did more to civilize mankind, and to bring them within the
comforts of society, than any set of men of any denomination have ever
done. And yet the ungrateful world, that was enjoying the fruits of
their labours and their riches, now that it beheld the edifice
completed, cast down the builders and the scaffoldings as if no longer
useful! In spite of all the calumny thrown out against these monastic
institutions, nothing so well proclaims their utility as this--that they
maintained themselves in credit and repute, some of them a thousand
years; and many of them during the space of three hundred, four hundred,
and five hundred years; and that, when they were dissolved, Edward the
Sixth and his counsellors found it necessary to endow new hospitals, to
build new schools, and to provide new relief for the poor and helpless.”
Such is the testimony of a liberal-minded clergyman of the Church of
England, who spent a great portion of his leisure in investigating the
history of monastic institutions, particularly that of St. Albans.
“These religious foundations,” he adds, “fell with such undeserved
calumny and slander, that it is but common justice to restore their
character, and give them their due praise, wherever that can be done;
and if all others were as free from corruption and ill government as the
Abbey of St. Albans, it would be seen how unjustly they were accused,
and that their overthrow was effected for other reasons than pretended
misrule and corruption. But as they had been ever the main pillar and
support of the Papal dominion, it was natural and consistent to abolish
the members after the Head was rejected. They were bodies so nearly
allied to the Papal power, that they must of necessity fall with it; and
although a gradual reformation might have been effected in them, yet, in
the new plan of church government, they were deemed unnecessary; for the
new Head of the
[Illustration]
Church and his counsellors wished to have as few subjects in the Church
to be governed as might be. Accordingly, by dissolving the regular
clergy, and limiting the Church, to the episcopal order of seculars,
they rejected above one hundred thousand of the former, and retained
about eight thousand of the latter. Whatever was the pretext, the real
truth appears to have been this--that their temporal power and wealth
tempted their downfall; and in spite of all the good and real merit that
was to be found in them, they fell a prey and spoil to an extravagant
monarch, and his ‘needy and profligate’ courtiers. In the legislature of
those times, there were many great and able men; but whatever cause
there may be to charge them with want of _piety_, there is no room to
accuse them of any want of worldly wisdom, or of their embracing that
self-denial and contempt of the world, which they were so ready to
condemn in the monks. They made laws and ordinances to support a new
religion, when they could enrich themselves by suppressing the _old_.”
“But,” continues this able writer, “the bright examples of the bishops
and clergy who submitted to the flames at that time, will appear more
illustrious when it is seen how just and rational was their opposition
to the worship then in use, as well as to the doctrine; the first having
in it as little of true piety and devotion, as the latter had of reason
and revealed truth. It was the blood of those men who could die for the
truth, that gave the new Establishment a firm and solid foundation, when
neither the will of the Prince nor the laws of his Parliaments could
have been able, without that cement, to effect a new construction and
edifice.”[79]
The Abbey of St. Albans has the credit of having introduced a printing
press soon after the invention of types; and may thus truly be said to
have fostered within itself the elements of its own dissolution. One of
the first works issued was by the lady prioress of the adjacent nunnery
of Sopwell, Dame Juliana Berners, who composed several treatises on
hawking, hunting, and heraldry, which were so well received that two
editions were printed at St. Albans, between 1481 and 1486.
<g>The local scenery</g> around St. Albans is pleasing, occasionally
picturesque, and, owing to its including the ancient Verulam, is never
without deep interest to all who have a knowledge of ancient history,
and a taste for antiquarian research.
The finest point of view is that which was chosen by the artist for the
steel engraving, namely--from the south near the walls of the ancient
city; the streets of which are still discernible in the green field, by
the thin short grass that covers them, and under which the Roman brick
yet retains its original bed. A great portion of the ancient
substructure, matted with weeds and shaded with trees and brushwood,
still invites the curious stranger, and offers him every facility for
investigation. But, except the horizontal layers of brick, mortar, and
shingle--the brick generally carbonized in the centre--there is nothing
left to repay investigation. The soil has been ransacked too effectually
by the antiquaries of monastic times to encourage further research; but
the situation will please every one who delights in classic
associations, while the Abbey, which crowns the adjoining eminence,
gives a rich hallowing interest to the whole scene:--
“Whose Norman tower lifts its pinnacled spire:
Where the long Abbey-aisle extends,
And battled roof o’er roof ascends;
Cornered with buttresses shapely and tall,
That sheltered the Saint in canopied stall.”
[Illustration]
There is no single object, however, after the Abbey, half so attractive
as the old church of St. Michael’s, the sacred repository of the great
Lord Bacon. It is built within the precincts of the ancient city, and,
crowning a gentle undulation of the surface, forms a beautiful feature
in the landscape. The interior still preserves its simple antique
appearance, and is rich in sepulchral objects. It was founded about the
middle of the tenth century, by Abbot Ulsinus; and its massive piers and
plain semicircular arches still show unquestionable evidence of the
original Saxon architecture. It is kept remarkably neat, and has, what
we have rarely observed in other churches, small fire-places in several
of the family pews.
But the tomb and statue of Bacon soon arrest the eye, and claim, for a
time, the stranger’s undivided attention. The statue we need not
describe; it speaks for itself in the beauty of the sculpture, and in
the classic elegance of the inscription. But how appropriate are these
lines:--
“Unfit to stand the civil storm of state,
And through the rude barbarity of courts,
With firm but pliant virtue, forward still
To urge his course; him for the studious shade
Kind nature form’d, deep, comprehensive, clear,
Exact and elegant; in one rich soul,
Plato, the Stagyrite, and Tully joined.
The great deliverer he! who, from the gloom
Of cloister’d monks, and jargon-teaching schools,
Led forth the true Philosophy, there long
Held in the magic chain of words and forms.”--THOMSON.
Lord Bacon, “the illustrious subject of the following inscription, was
the son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, lord-keeper of the great seal under
Elizabeth, who was married to Anne, daughter of Sir Anthony Cooke, a
lady of the most profound erudition and brilliant talents. Francis, the
illustrious son of such distinguished parents, was born in the year
1560, and even in his infancy gave indications of the most uncommon
abilities, united with the greatest and most unwearied assiduity in the
pursuit of knowledge and investigation of truth; his cleverness gained
him, even in his earliest youth, the admiration of Elizabeth. At
Cambridge, where
[Illustration:
FRANCIS. BACON. BARO DE VERULAM. S. ALBANS VICᵐᵉˢ. SEU NOTIORIBUS
TITULIS. SCIENTIARUM LUMEN. FACUNDIÆ LEX. SIC SEDEBAT. QUI.
POSTQUAM OMNIA NATURALIS SAPIENTIÆ ET CIVILIS ARCANA EVOLVISSET
NATURÆ DECRETUM EXPLEVIT--‘COMPOSITA SOLVANTUR’ Aⁿᵒ. Dⁿⁱ. MDCXXVI.
ÆTAT. LXVI. TANTI VIRI MEM. THOMAS MEAUTYS SUPERSTITIS CULTOR
DEFUNCTI ADMIRATOR. H. P.[80]
]
he completed his education, his talents obtained universal applause.
While prosecuting his studies at the university, he detected the
fallacies of the then customary mode of philosophizing, which at a more
mature age he published to the world, and laid down those laws which
opened the way to all the brilliant and surprising discoveries of modern
days. His university education being completed, he commenced his
travels, from which the unexpected death of his father suddenly recalled
him; upon which he applied himself to the study of the common law, at
Gray’s Inn, and soon elevated himself to the highest dignities of his
profession. But his character was not without a blemish--‘humanum est
errare;’ and even the illustrious Bacon fell from the giddying height he
had so proudly attained. After his disgrace, he applied himself wholly
to literary and philosophical pursuits, enriching the world with his
discoveries, and enlightening it by his reasonings. His love for
philosophy was the immediate cause of his death, of which the following
narrative is given by Aubrey, in his MSS., which are now deposited in
the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford:--
“The cause of his lordship’s death was trying an experiment as he was
taking the aire in the coach with Dr. Witherborne, a Scotchman,
physitian to the king, towards Highgate: snow lay upon the ground, and
it came into my lord’s thoughts, why flesh might not be preserved in
snow, as in salt. They were resolved they would try the experiment
presently. They alighted out of the coach, and went into a poor woman’s
house at the bottome of Highgate-hill, and bought a hen, and made the
woman exenterate it, and then stuffed the body with snow; and my lord
did help to do it himself. The snow so chilled him he immediately fell
so ill, that he could not return to his lodgings (I suppose then at
Gray’s Inn), but went to the Earl of Arundell’s house at Highgate, where
they put him into a good bed, warmed with a panne; but it was a damp
bed, that had not been lain in for about a yeare before, which gave him
such a cold, that in two or three days, as I remember he told me, he
died of suffocation.”--Topographical Library, page 113-5.
<g>Sopwell Nunnery</g> is thus described in the History of the Abbey. It was
founded by “Abbot Geoffry about 1140, on his observing two poor women
dwelling there in a wretched hut of their own constructing, and living a
most austere life on bread and water, and in regular devotion to God.
Their piety induced him to build a house for their comfortable living;
and to bestow on them some possessions. He appointed also a chapel and a
church-yard; ordaining that none should be buried there except the nuns;
none to be admitted into that house but maidens; and the number not to
exceed thirteen.
“Henry de Albini or Albeney, of the house of Todenei, gave to this house
two hides of land, with his wife’s consent, in their manor of Cotes, in
Beaulieu. His son Robert, and his mother Cicely, gave a rood more, in
the same manor. Richard de Tany, or Todenei, gave them the land called
Black hides in Ridge parish.
“Abbot Michael, about 1338, ordained certain rules for the regulation of
this house, and enjoined a better order and observance than they had
before practised. They are as follows: 1. That the commemoration of St.
Alban should be kept as usual. 2. That no more than three nuns should
sit in the chapter. 3. That silence be observed, as by the rule of St.
Benedict, in the church or chapel, in the cloister, in the refectory,
and the dormitory. 4. That a little bell do ring in the morning, as
notice to rise and appear; and that none leave the dormitory before the
bell rings. 5. That the garden door be not opened (for walking) before
the hour of prime, or first hour of devotion; and in summer, that the
garden and the parlour doors be not opened until the hour of none (nine)
in the morning; and to be always shut when the corfue rings. 6. That no
sister hold conversation in the parlour without her cowl on, and her
face covered with her veil. 7. That tailors, or other artists, be
persons of good character, but to work in some place assigned them
without the monastery; and never to be admitted into chambers or other
private places. 8. That if any sister be under a sentence of penance,
this shall not exclude her from the duties of the church. 9. The sick to
be kept in the infirmary. 10. No nun to lodge out of the house; and no
guest within it. 11. All the sisters to be present at the mass of our
Lady.”--History of St. Albans, page 468.
[Illustration]
Returning from the ruins of Sopwell, we take a parting view of the great
west entrance to the Abbey Church, the principal features of which we
have already noticed, page 94. The ground in front of the porch is
entirely occupied as a public cemetery; but none of its sepulchral
antiquities are of a character to demand particular notice as works of
art.
The ceremony represented in the woodcut is the “distribution of alms,”
which usually took place at the church door, on particular festivals,
when “give-ale” and the “dole” drew together the neighbouring poor. The
“give-ale,” so called, was distributed on anniversaries, often with
bread and other dole, to the poor, for which purpose land had been left
to the church by the person whose birth-day, saint’s-day, or burial-day,
was to be commemorated. Anniversaries were sometimes kept on the
birth-day of a donor, during his life-time, or on the saint’s-day of the
church where it was appointed. The doles of money and bread were
distributed at some altar in the church, or at the tomb of a deceased
benefactor. The “give-ale,” being chiefly allotted to great festivals,
was usually distributed in the church-porch, where the people assembled,
and where they sometimes remained wassailing in the church-yard till it
became a scene of merriment and tumult. Some of these anniversaries, as
it is well known, gave rise to Fairs, which were once most improperly
held in churchyards.--Gaston de Blondeville, vol. iv. p. 68.
[Illustration]
In the preceding notice of St. Albans, the narrow limits assigned to
this work has made it necessary to confine our sketches and observations
to the more striking features of the Abbey and its vicinity. Where the
materials are so abundant and inviting, and where only a few
characteristic portions can be admitted, their selection must be always
attended with more or less difficulty; but in the present instance, it
is hoped, the order of subjects has been so arranged as to present the
reader with a faithful picture of the Abbey as it now is, and such as,
with the vast improvements in contemplation, it may continue to be for
ages to come. For the lives and acts of its “forty abbots and one,” we
must refer our readers to the chronicles of the Abbey, and the other
sources of information hereunto annexed.
“Now closes the scene; and here,” in the words of the historian, “may we
behold fallen and set for ever the glory and splendour of this and all
other of those religious corporations, which, with most pious intentions
in the founders, with general good conduct in the rulers, with most
grateful acceptance in the sober and virtuous of all ranks, had provided
for the wants and necessities of men; and the revenues, which had
cheered the hearts of the naked and hungry, now turned out of the
channel of hospitality and beneficence, to be dissipated and wasted in
the voluptuous pleasures and base gratifications of the court and its
followers.”
“Here forty <g>abbots</g> have ruled and one,
Twenty with palle and mitre on,
And bowed them to the Pope alone.
Their hundred monks, in black arrayed,
The Benedictine rules obeyed;
O’er distant lands they held their sway;
Freed from Peter’s-pence were they;
The gift of palle from Pope they claimed,
And cardinal-abbots were they named;
And even old Canterbury’s lord
Was long refused the premier board;
For this was the first British martyr’s bier,
And the Pope said ‘His priest shall have no peer.’
Now know ye <g>St. Alban’s</g> bones rest here!
Kings and heroes here were guests
In stately halls, at solemn feasts.
But now, nor dais nor halls remain;
Nor fretted window’s gorgeous pane
Twilight illuminated throws,
Where once the high-served banquet rose.”--ANNE RADCLIFFE.
[Illustration]
APPENDIX.[81]--1. The present roof of the Abbey was erected at the
expense of Abbot Whethamstead, after the original, which is said to have
been of stone, had been blown down in a tempest. The “Wallingford
Screen” was built, in 1480, by the Abbot of that name, at an expense of
eleven hundred marks. It reaches from the ground to the eastern window,
and for beauty and magnitude is said to surpass everything else of the
kind in Europe. It was adorned, in the palmy days of the Abbey, with “a
profusion of gold and silver ornaments;” but in its present condition,
stripped of all such glittering ornaments, and its elegant simplicity so
much more apparent, it is thus “unadorned, adorned the most.”
2. The Abbey Church of St. Albans was “chiefly erected by Paul, the
first Norman Abbot, early in the reign of William Rufus, at which period
the edifice erected by Offa had become extremely ruinous. The Norman
architecture is consequently preserved in the greater part of the
building, particularly in the choir, nave, transepts, and great tower;
but a very considerable portion has been rebuilt in the various styles
of the times when repairs became necessary, the particulars of which may
be seen in the lives of the different Abbots. For the purposes of
repair, the materials were chiefly furnished by the ruins of Verulam;
among which was a profusion of Roman brick.”--Archt. of St. Albans.
3. We are aware of the difference of opinion which once subsisted among
writers as to the true era and character of the round and pointed arches
which distinguish the Abbey Church. But the round arches which were
formerly considered Norman, have been lately, we understand, pronounced
Saxon by a distinguished architect, who has bestowed great pains in the
investigation; and has at last, it is to be hoped, settled the question
“And proved, when Mercian Offa was anointed,
Arches were broad and round--not lancet-pointed.”
4. P. 87.--The epitaph on the two hermits, Roger and Sigarius, states,
that thinking themselves unworthy to rest within the church, they chose
a resting-place in the wall below. Legendary inscriptions on the
clustered pillars are still dimly visible through the modern whitewash.
[Illustration: ARMS OF ST. ALBANS.]
5. This Abbey Church, venerable alike for its antiquity, and admirable
for its design and workmanship, “possesses all the magnitude and dignity
of the largest Cathedral. It is cruciform, measures from east to west,
including the Lady Chapel, six hundred and six feet in length; the
extreme breadth, at the intersection of the transepts, is two hundred
and seventeen feet. The height of the body is sixty-five feet, and that
of the tower is one hundred and forty-four feet.”
AUTHORITIES:--M.
Paris.--Grafton.--Harding.--Holinshed.--Speed.--Camden.--Archæologia.--Newcome.--Clutterbuck.--Topography
of Great Britain.--Guide to St. Albans Abbey.--St.
Augustine.--Radcliffe’s St. Albans Abbey.--Holcroft’s Margaret of
Anjou.--Memoir of Lord Bacon.--Blome’s
Britannia.--Weever.--Willis.--Tyrrell.--Burnet.--Dugdale.--Visit to
St. Albans, January 1842, MS. Notes by an Artist, MS.
The Society of Antiquaries has published very splendid illustrative
plans, elevations, and sections of the Abbey Church of St. Albans.
[Illustration: HALL OF ELTHAM PALACE.