No doubt the early part of the fifteenth century was the period when the cathedral was most glorious within and without. Fuller, in his "Church History," published in 1655, from which quotation has already been made, after giving an account of the building of the cathedral, says: "But now in the time of the aforesaid William Heyworth, the Cathedral of Litchfield was in the verticall height thereof, being (though not augmented in the essentials) beautified in the ornamentals thereof. Indeed, the West front thereof is a stately Fabrick, adorned with exquisite imagerie, which I suspect our age is so far from being able to imitate the workmanship that it understandeth not the Historie thereof. Surely what Charles the Fifth is said to have said of the citie of Florence, that it is a pittie it should be seen save only on Holy-dayes; as also that it was fit that so fair a Citie should have a Case and Cover for it to keep it from wind and weather, so in some sort, this Fabrick may seem to deserve a shelter to secure it. But alas! it is now in a pittiful case—indeed, almost beaten down to the ground in our civil dissensions. Now, lest the Church should follow the Castle—I mean quite vanish out of view—I have, at the cost of my worthy friend here exemplified the Portraiture thereof; and am glad to hear it to be the design of ingenious persons to preserve ancient churches in the like nature (whereof many are done in this, and more expected in the next part of Monasticon), seeing when their substance is gone, their verie shadows will be acceptable to posteritie."

In the fifteenth century a library was built outside the door of the north transept, but a little to the west; it was quite separate from the cathedral. This was one of the gifts of Dean Heywood (1457-1493). It is recorded that he gave £40 towards the building of it, but died before it was completed, and this was done by his successor, Dean Yotton, who also contributed to its erection. According to the statement in "Anglia Sacra" it was finished in the year 1500. It is marked in the plan of Browne Willis, 1727, and was taken down about 1750.

Some time in this century saw a change in the tracery of many of the windows. It may be that the introduction of printing was responsible for this change, and that the greater amount of light admitted by the windows of the Perpendicular style made their insertion advisable; or it may be that the tracery of windows being naturally fragile, in many cases a renewal became necessary, and the new Gothic style was naturally considered the best. Whatever the reason, the new Perpendicular tracery was inserted in many of the windows just as it was in a large number of cathedrals and churches all over England.

In reading the history of the building of this fabric, we cannot help noticing that even the great Gothic builders could not leave well alone. Then, as now, Fashion was the ruling power. Having a Norman church, they altered it into an Early English one; then they pulled down a good deal of this to get a more Decorated building; and finally they changed the windows in order to give the whole a Perpendicular appearance: side by side with other reasons that actuated them, they did their best to keep their cathedral in the fashion.

In the sixteenth century, Henry VIII., the great destroyer of religious houses, made but little difference to the fabric of this cathedral, but he laid his hands on the valuables. The shrine of St. Chad was denuded of its jewels, and everything which could be turned into money was taken away, much of it was fortunately returned for the "necessary uses" of the cathedral, but the services and ritual must have been much impaired and their beauty diminished. During that century, however, the cathedral gradually recovered, and we know that early in the next the services were again very much on the same scale of magnificence as they had been when the good bishops Patteshull and Weseham directed the diocese.

The next event in the history of the building is one which is necessarily referred to many times in this book. The siege of Lichfield Cathedral is probably the most famous incident in its long career; not only on account of the immense injury done to the fabric itself, to its monuments and its decorations, but also on account of the "miraculous intervention" on behalf of the holy building, an intervention which, viewed with nineteenth-century scepticism, does not appear to have done the cathedral any obvious good, but which at the time appears to have been treated with all the deference due to a genuine miracle.

The great Civil War began on August 22, 1642, when Charles I. set up his standard at Nottingham. At Lichfield, as everywhere else in England, there were partisans of both sides. The cathedral group was naturally for the king, while others, for one reason or another, joined either the Royal Party or the Parliamentarian. After Edgehill, which was fought in the autumn, matters became more and more serious in the Midlands; and finally, in February 1643, the Royalists at Lichfield, hearing that at any moment an outbreak might take place, garrisoned the close, which ever since the days of Walter de Langton had been strongly fortified. They hoisted the king's flag on the great steeple, and waited the result. They had not long to wait. With March Lord Brooke, one of the fiercest of anti-churchmen, arrived in command of a strong body of Roundheads, and on the 2nd the siege commenced.

[From Shaw's History and Antiquities of Staffordshire, 1798.