The whole controversy as to the existence of an Eastern apse is so interesting and important, but at the same time so technical for the ordinary reader, that we have placed, in Appendix C, a contribution which Mr Livett has kindly sent to us, with the hope that it may be extensively read and pondered by all those, whether antiquaries or otherwise, who desire to weigh every point connected with the architecture and plan of the church.
While still examining the exterior of the church, we may notice on the east wall of the present chancel a nearly square insertion, measuring 14-½ by 13-½ inches. The matrix seems to represent traces of a brass, with a kneeling female figure, carrying a child in her arms, with an inscription underneath; and it may have been connected with a tomb in that portion of the churchyard. It is of the fifteenth century, but there is no evidence of its origin, though it has probably been in its present position for a considerable period. The date of 1662, and many subsequent dates and initials, have been cut into the stone, showing the continuous existence of that pernicious class of tourists who make a point of leaving their mark in places of interest!
Passing down the north side of the church, we may observe on the chancel wall a piece of masonry, composed of Roman bricks, which is a good imitation of Roman work; next the modern vestry which has no merit except that of utility, and the traces of the Early English porch, which has been described above—and then, rounding the north-west angle, we come to a curious Norman squint or hagioscope, partially hidden by the tower. The opening, sunk some three or four inches in the outer wall, is of an oblong character. The sides are formed of worked chalk and Kentish rag, with traces of a hinge and receptacle for a bolt, while the lintel is composed of a piece of oak greatly decayed by age. The squint is partially splayed on both sides, rather more on the right side than the left, extends 18 inches into the interior of the church, and commanded apparently a view of the high altar. Whether it was a lychnoscope, or leper's window, or used by penitents standing under cover of a porch, there are no grounds for determining. The actual opening does not measure more than 12 inches by 8, and was lined originally with Norman plaster. On the inside, where it is 15 inches across, it was till recently concealed by the woodwork of a pew, but this has happily been removed. The masonry inside is of a rugged character, and was evidently disturbed when the interior of the church was covered by thick coats of plaster. Among the fillings-up of the squint, we found three curious circular stones, each with an ornamental volute at the end. They are of oolite, and probably formed parts of a scroll at the top of a Roman (heathen) altar, and one of the fragments had small pieces of salmon-coloured mortar adhering to it. We may refer to an opening in the church of St. Mary, in Dover Castle, as being in a somewhat similar position, but there it is generally supposed to be a lychnoscope for the use of soldiers in the guard-room, so that they might watch the light burning at the altar on the south-east of the nave, which was specially reserved for them.
There is a great difference of opinion as to the proper name of these openings, two of which are certainly, and another possibly, found in St. Martin's Church. We are told that the squint is not to be confounded with low side-windows or lychnoscopes, originally unglazed. Squints, as a rule, may be defined as inside the church, and the others outside, primarily for the purpose of enabling persons in the aisles to see the elevation of the Host at the high altar, though they are sometimes found connected with a side-chapel, a parvise, or a tower-chamber. Their usual height is about 4 ft. from the ground, extending upwards from 2 to 10 ft. Narrow at first, they were gradually enlarged and broadened, as at St. Clement's and St. Peter's churches in Sandwich. Sometimes when near a side-altar they were utilised as a credence, or had a piscina sunk in them (cf. Crawley Church in Hampshire)—and it is not impossible that the only real squint or hagioscope in St. Martin's Church was through the back of the existing piscina. The other openings, as I have said, might have been used as lepers' windows, or for penitents.
The tower was added in the fourteenth century. It is somewhat squat, and crowned with a pyramidal top. It measures 16 ft. by 13 ft. 3 in. in length and width, with two large buttresses on the west side, each projecting 4 ft. 3 in. It is built principally of flint with a slight intermixture of thin mediæval tiles, and has three louvre windows, one of which, with the peculiar "long and short" features of Saxon stone work, may have been transferred there from some other portion of the church. The building of this tower has probably destroyed some interesting feature, that stood at the west end of the original church. This may have been a western apse (so common in early basilicas) or perhaps a baptistery, or a chamber with an arch on each of its four sides. Whatever it be, is at present a matter of conjecture, but further explorations may solve the mystery; and wise men will forbear to dogmatise, when their positive theories may at any moment be overthrown.
Description of the interior.—The gradual ascent to St. Martin's Church from the lych-gate is somewhat remarkable. After turning a sharp corner in the churchyard path, you walk up nine steps to the Western Door, and from this door there is an ascent of eleven steps to the altar. This much resembles what is so noticeable a feature in Canterbury Cathedral. On the south wall of the tower-porch there is inserted a monumental stone, about which there has been a good deal of discussion. It has been described as a piece of a Roman coffin, but this is clearly a mistake. Both the character of the inscription, and the chamfering of the upper part, not unlike the tomb of Stephen Langton in St. Michael's Chapel in the Cathedral, show that it may be attributed to the thirteenth century. The letters are fragmentary, and slightly indistinct. We can, however, make out † ι \, and on the other side ϶ARISCVS. It has been suggested that this word may have been "Mariscus," and then the stone might possibly have been the boundary-stone of a marsh; but I think there can be no doubt that it is an ordinary sepulchral slab.
Till two years ago, the first feeling of visitors to the church was one of profound disappointment. They had been informed that St. Martin's was the oldest church in England; but the proofs of antiquity were not obvious at a casual glance, and the Early English chancel arch presented itself most obtrusively to the view, the walls of the nave, too, being covered with a thick layer of modern-looking yellowish plaster. It is rather amusing, sometimes, to hear the comments and to observe the behaviour of casual visitors. Many of them are from the United States of America, where the church is placed on the "list of sights" to be seen during their European tour. A few of the more unintelligent put their heads inside the building for two or three minutes, say to one another "this is an interesting old church," and then walk away with a proud consciousness that they have done St. Martin's. The present writer remembers lionising a party of Americans, and completely failing to engross their attention by any historical or antiquarian description. At last, in despair, he asked them to write their names in the visitors' book kept in the vestry, where it so happened that the last names written were those of the Duchess of Edinburgh and her children. Then their interest was at once aroused, and they went away in a state of perfect happiness because their autographs were inscribed in the same page as those of Royalty! At another time the writer was preaching a sermon, on the festival of St. Martin, bishop and confessor. He was surprised to notice an allusion to his sermon in one of the leading London newspapers on the following day, with a general tone of satisfaction that Protestant England still entertained such devotion and reverence for the great Martin Luther, to whom (in the correspondent's imagination) the church was dedicated! Happily such ignorance is scarcely now possible, and the stripping of the plaster from the nave, and also from the lower portion of the chancel, reveals at once the antiquity of the church, so that the attention of every one of the 10,000 tourists who annually visit it is arrested (whether they will or no) by the rough uncoated walls.
This manifest improvement has been carried out with the kind consent and cordial assistance of the Rev. L. J. White-Thomson, the present rector.
It is very difficult now to realise what the church must have looked like in the earliest times. Even its shape then has been a fierce subject of dispute. Whether the chancel was added to the nave, or the nave to the chancel, or whether there was only the present chancel extended for a considerable distance westward, we may perhaps assume, in the light of very recent investigation, that there was an original chancel arch built of Roman bricks, not unlike the arch in St. Mary's Church at Dover Castle—and in the small, possibly apsidal, chancel the high altar would have stood, about 18 to 20 feet eastward of the arch.
At a later period there was a Rood-beam mentioned in the "Cross Light on the Rood-loft," and alluded to in the burial of John Hougham "before the High Cross in the Nave." The holes made for the insertion of this Rood-beam may still be seen in the north-east and south-east angles of the nave, about 6 ft. distant from the joints of the chancel arch, and 10 ft. above the ground. It at one time occurred to us as possible that the "High Cross in the Nave" might have had a parallel in the great stone cross found in front of the central arch between the nave and chancel at Reculver. "One of the fairest and most stately Crosses (says Leland) I ever saw—nine feet, as I guess, in height. It standeth like a fair column."