The Cathedral Church of the Holy Trinity, Norwich.
FROM SOUTH-EAST.
The ancient kingdom of East Anglia was converted to Christianity by a Burgundian monk, Felix, who became the first bishop of East Anglia—the diocese, as usual, being coextensive with the kingdom—and fixed his see at Dunwich in 630. The see was subdivided by the Archbishop Theodore, the great organiser of the English Church, in 669. It was again reunited, and the cathedral was at Elmham, till the bishop migrated in 1070 to Thetford, and in 1094 to Norwich.
The present cathedral was commenced in 1096 by Herbert de Losinga, who is usually described as a Lorrainer. He is recorded to have finished the whole cathedral before his death in 1119 as far as the altar of the Holy Cross, which would stand in front of the choir-screen. His successor finished the nave and west front, and carried up the central tower (1121-1145). The plan is that of Gloucester and Leominster; the rudiments of it appear in the ancient church at Bethlehem and in St. Sepulchre at Jerusalem. There was an enormously long aisled nave of fourteen bays, aisleless transepts of three bays, an aisled presbytery of five bays, a semicircular apse, a processional aisle or ambulatory encircling the apse, and three segmental chapels radiating from the ambulatory; also eastern apses to the transepts. All this remains, except the easternmost apsidal chapel, which was replaced in the thirteenth century by an oblong Lady chapel, itself pulled down in the sixteenth century; and the apse of the south transept, which was replaced by an oblong chapel in the thirteenth century.
The history of Norwich cathedral, therefore, differs toto cœlo from that of every other English cathedral, except that of Gloucester. With the exception that both Gloucester and Norwich ultimately increased the dimensions of their eastern Lady chapels, no eastward extensions of any moment took place. This was not because the Norfolk people were more conservative than other people, or, in a remote corner of England, were behind the times; but because the plan of the Norwich cathedral was convenient for mediæval ritual, and the plan of the other cathedrals was not. Other cathedrals had to build a processional aisle at the back of the High Altar; at Norwich it was there already. Other cathedrals had to throw out eastern transepts to provide chapels for the great saints of the Church, St. James, St. John, St. Peter and the rest; Norwich cathedral from the first had five apsidal chapels. Other cathedrals had a local saint of the first water, and had to build a special saint’s chapel or feretory for his shrine: Canterbury for St. Thomas, Chester for St. Werburgh, Durham for St. Cuthbert, Ely for St. Audrey, Hereford for St. Ethelbert, Lichfield for St. Chad, Lincoln for St. Hugh, Oxford for St. Frideswide, Rochester for St. William, St. Albans for St. Alban, Winchester for St. Swithin, Worcester for St. Wolfstan. Norwich had no local saint of any great repute, except a poor little boy who was alleged to have been crucified by the Jews. Nor, again, did sacerdotalism much affect the growth of Norwich cathedral. The nave was so vast that, even when the monks had appropriated five bays of it for their ritual choir, as they did at first, there still remained nine bays for processions, and for the laity to worship at the nave-altar of the Holy Cross. There was no need to crowd the stalls into the eastern limb of the church as the Canterbury monks had to do because of the shortness of their Norman nave. It is true that, later on, the Norwich monks moved eastward a little, placing their sixty stalls under the tower and in the two easternmost bays of the nave, where they are at present; but this was probably done merely to get better light, partly from the lantern-tower above, partly from the enlarged windows of the transepts. The original position of the choir is marked by the cylindrical piers, the fifth from the tower; by a hole in the vault, inside a boss, from which hung down a light or a censer; and by the corbelling of the eastern vaulting-shafts to leave room for the stalls.
NAVE.
With these exceptions, the history of the cathedral mainly reduces itself to three sets of building operations: first, repairs necessitated by fire or storm; secondly, attempts to improve the lighting of the building; and, thirdly, to make it fireproof.
Taking these works in the above order, we first have to note the mischief done by fire and storm. In 1297 the tower seems to have had a wooden spire. This was blown down in 1361; and, falling eastward, damaged the clerestory of the Norman presbytery. Both the spire and clerestory had to be rebuilt; and in rebuilding the clerestory the monks took the opportunity to remedy what was the gravest defect in all the Norman cathedrals—viz., their extreme darkness. Now, it happened that, only some ten years before, the magnificent clerestory of Gloucester presbytery had been built; and the report of the brilliant illumination and gorgeous glass of this grand work was bruited, no doubt, all over England by pilgrims returning from the shrine of the murdered Edward II. at Gloucester. Therefore, just as at Gloucester, they determined to raise the new presbytery higher than the nave—they raised it ten feet—and to make the clerestory practically a continuous sheet of glass. In one thing, fortunately, they did not copy Gloucester, as Edington did in Winchester nave—which is of the same date as the Norwich work—they did not think it necessary to discard altogether the beautiful flowing tracery of the Curvilinear period; and so here, as in many Norfolk churches, we find inserted, side by side, at the same time, Curvilinear and Perpendicular windows. Another charming feature of Curvilinear work was the ogee niche, such as those of the arcade of Ely Lady chapel. These niches, too, were utilised at Norwich cleverly and beautifully, being used instead of corbels to support the ribs of the roof. This fourteenth-century roof seems to have been one of wood.
But, earlier than this, a determined attempt had been made to get rid of the darkness of the nave by inserting (1315-1360) a range of windows with flowing tracery all along the north aisle of the nave. In the Perpendicular period (1360-1485) the monks took the same course as at Ely: they raised the triforium walls, closed the external windows of the triforium, flattened the roof of the triforium, and thus managed to get in a range of tall windows, each of four lights, in the hope that the light from them might find its way into the nave across the triforium; and that the more easily as the openings of the inner arcade of the triforium were not obstructed by central shafts. The result is extraordinary, as seen from the garth. The south side of the cathedral, instead of the usual three or four stories, seems six stories high. First there are the openings of the cloister; then the upper story of the cloister; then the blind arcade of the triforium; then the Norman triforium windows; then the Perpendicular ditto; then the Norman clerestory.
CENTRAL TOWER.
Even this was insufficient. The eastern bays of the nave, where the stalls were placed, and where, most of all, light was needed, were the darkest of all, being obstructed by the stalls and by the cloister roof. So in the exterior of the two easternmost bays of the nave the Perpendicular triforium windows and the Norman clerestory windows were thrown into one, to give as much light as possible to the stalls below. For the same reason large Perpendicular windows were inserted in the transepts. Several of these, however, have recently been replaced by Norman windows: “genuine Perpendicular by sham Norman.” In the middle of the south aisle of the nave Bishop Nix (1501-1536) built himself a gorgeous chantry, to light which he inserted two large windows, high up so as to clear the cloister roof. Large square-headed windows were inserted in the triforium of the presbytery also; and an enormous Perpendicular window was inserted in the west front, still further to light the nave. These measures were fairly successful in nave and transept; but, fortunately for us, less successful than in the presbytery.
SOUTH-EAST APSE.
Now we come to the measures taken to make the building fireproof. These took the form of costly stone vaults, and they seem to have been undertaken by the monks most reluctantly. All the high vaults are the direct outcome of some great fire, and but for the fire they would not have been undertaken. There were conflagrations in 1170 and 1271, and in the fearful riots of 1272 the cathedral was set on fire by the citizens. Still, when the presbytery was repaired in 1362, it seems to have been roofed again in wood. In 1463 the wooden spire was struck by lightning, and set fire to the roofs both of nave and presbytery. At last the monks had to bestir themselves. To secure the spire against fire they rebuilt it in stone instead of wood; and, to make the nave and presbytery fireproof, they made up their minds to vault both in stone. Between 1463 and 1472 Bishop Lyhart put up over the nave the present magnificent lierne vault, and at his death bequeathed two thousand marks to his successor to continue the work. Bishop Goldwell vaulted the presbytery between 1472 and 1499. It seems to have been very difficult to get the funds for this costly work. Bishop Goldwell, however, was a personal friend of the Pope, who had consecrated him with his own hands; and he had not much difficulty in persuading the Pope to grant a perpetual indulgence in the terms that “all who came to the cathedral on Trinity Sunday and Lady Day, and made an offering towards the fabric, should be entitled to an indulgence of twelve years and forty days.” The transepts had still wooden roofs. It required another fire—in 1509—in which these roofs were consumed, to compel the monks to complete the vaulting of the cathedral. This was done in the time of Bishop Nix. At the end of four hundred years Norwich cathedral was at length fireproof.
And did they do nothing merely for prettiness’ sake? Well, here, as at Gloucester, they set to work to do what was quite unnecessary—to harmonise the Norman ground-story of the presbytery with the clerestory of 1631. By one of those marvellous pieces of engineering, of which the mediæval architects were so fond—we saw a conspicuous example at Carlisle—while retaining the Norman triforium and the Perpendicular clerestory above, they managed to remodel the Norman piers on either side of the presbytery, and to take out the semicircular arches bodily and replace them by the fashionable arch of the period—a depressed four-centered arch. This was done by Bishop Goldwell—no doubt before he put up the vault above (c. 1475).
CHOIR.
The only other great work was the rebuilding of the cloisters, also forced on the monks by a great fire—that of 1272. This work was executed exceedingly slowly, the window tracery ranging from Geometrical, through Curvilinear, to Perpendicular work.
One word more about the superb interior. It is hardly too much to say that the interior of this cathedral—but second-rate in point of dimensions—is unequalled in all England. One reason is that it is vaulted throughout. Ely, Peterborough St. Albans, Rochester, Romsey, Waltham, Southwell—with their paltry wooden ceilings—are not to be compared for a moment with Norwich. Gloucester and Chichester naves are vaulted, but the vaults are too slight and flimsy for the stern and massive work below. Durham vault is strong and satisfactory. But the lierne vault of Norwich is a far more glorious crown and finish than the rude work of Durham. It might be thought that the richness and magnificence of the lierne vault of Norwich would be out of harmony with the simplicity and heaviness of Norman piers and triforium and clerestory. It is not so. A tower, like that of Magdalen College, Oxford, may be ever so plain below, and yet terminate fitly with a glorious coronal of battlements, parapet and pinnacles. So it is with this interior.
Its rivals are to be found in Winchester and Tewkesbury. But at Winchester the vaults of nave and presbytery are cut in two by the unvaulted transept. Norwich and Tewkesbury are vaulted everywhere—from east to west and from north to south. And in both, the vaults being uniform in character, and not changing character half-way as at Gloucester, weld together the spreading limbs of the church into a marvellous unity.
But there is another fine feature about the interior of Norwich, as in that of Gloucester: it is the striking contrast of light and shade, of shadowy nave and brilliant choir. Hereford presents us with the reverse effect—bright nave and gloomy choir. Both effects are dramatic; both, doubtless, are unintentional. If they had known how, or could have afforded it, the Hereford people would have flooded their choir with sunshine, Norwich and Gloucester their naves. The mediæval builders wanted none of these dramatic contrasts of light and shade; they were always working to get rid of the dim religious light that nowadays we venerate; they would have liked their churches lighted thoroughly well throughout. What they wanted was the light, uniformly good, of Lichfield and Exeter: or Salisbury, bright and gay as a ball-room.
APSE OF CHOIR.
But the most subtle and most important element in the beauty of the interior of Norwich is to be found in its proportions. The nave is of an immense length, but it is very narrow. York, Canterbury, Lincoln, Durham, all have naves far too short for their breadth. And what is more important still is the ratio of the height of Norwich nave to its span. In most English cathedrals it is 2 to 1; but in Norwich nave the ratio rises to 2⁴⁄₇, and in the presbytery it is 3 to 1. In Norwich presbytery, then, we have just those proportions which we find in the great Gothic cathedrals of France, but in England hardly anywhere except in Westminster Abbey. People admire Norwich presbytery and Westminster presbytery for the same reason, and, no doubt, in most cases, without knowing what the reason is.
One thing more remains to be said in praise of Norwich, as of Gloucester. It is that all the glory of the church is concentrated at one spot, and that the most important spot in the church. It is in approaching the high altar that vaults and clerestory soar aloft, that loveliest vistas open out into ambulatory and chapels, while the noble windows above fill all with light and atmosphere. “I would back it,” says Dean Goulburn, “against any similar effect in almost any cathedral in Christendom.”