“In Italy the bones of a saint or martyr were almost invariably deposited either beneath or immediately in front of the altar. But in the Gothic nations this original notion of the burial-place of the Saints became obscured, in the increasing desire to give them a more honourable place. According to the precise system of orientation adopted by the German and Celtic nations, the eastern portion of the church was in those countries regarded as pre-eminently sacred. Thither the high altar was generally moved, and to it the eyes of the congregation were specially directed. And in the eagerness to give a higher and holier even than the highest and holiest place to any great saint, on whom popular devotion was fastened, there sprang up in most of the larger churches during the Thirteenth Century a fashion of throwing out a still further eastern end, in which the shrine or altar of the saint might be erected,—and to which, therefore, not merely the gaze of the whole congregation, but of the officiating priest himself, even as he stood before the high altar, might be constantly turned. Thus, according to Fuller’s quaint remark, the superstitious reverence for the dead reached its highest pitch, ‘the porch saying to the churchyard, the church to the porch, the chancel to the church, the east end to all—“Stand further off, I am holier than thou.”’ This notion happened to coincide in point of time with the burst of devotion towards the Virgin Mary, which took place under the Pontificate of Innocent III., during the first years of the Thirteenth Century; and, therefore, in all cases where there was no special local saint, this eastern end was dedicated to Our Lady and the chapel thus formed was called The Lady-Chapel. Such was the case in the Cathedrals of Salisbury, Norwich, Hereford, Wells, Gloucester and Chester. But when the popular feeling of any city or neighbourhood had been directed to some indigenous object of devotion, this at once took the highest place, and the Lady-Chapel, if any there were, was thrust down to a less honourable position. Of this arrangement, the most notable instances in England are, or were (for in many cases the very sites have perished), the shrines of St. Alban in Hertfordshire, St. Edmund at Bury, St. Edward in Westminster Abbey, St. Cuthbert at Durham, and St. Etheldreda at Ely.”—(A. P. S.)
Sedilia, seats used by the priest, deacon and sub-deacon during the pauses in the mass, are generally cut into the south walls of churches, separated by shafts or species of mullions and surmounted by canopies, pinnacles or other elaborate adornments. The piscina and aumbry are sometimes attached to them.
The piscina is a hollowed out niche with drain to carry away the water used in the ablutions during mass. After the Thirteenth Century there is scarcely an altar in England without one. Sometimes the piscina is in the form of a double niche.
Beneath the cathedral there is often a crypt—in reality a second church, often of great size.
“We may be tempted to ask, what is the purpose of a crypt? Some have said that it was merely meant to give dignity to the church, or to avoid the damp. It appears, however, to be a custom taken from the very early Christian churches at Rome, which were in many cases built over the tomb of a martyr, and had therefore a lower and an upper church. Indeed if we imagine the central portion of the choir steps removed so that the nave floor might extend without interruption to the crypt, and a clear view of the crypt be open to the nave, we should have an arrangement precisely similar to that of several Italian churches, notably that of San Zenone, at Verona.”—(F. and R.)
As a rule, the monastic buildings, refectory, dormitory, infirmary, etc., were built on the south side, and here were also the cloisters, those pleasant walks and seats for exercise and recreation surrounding a peaceful quadrangle. The slype, or passage on the east side, led to the monks’ cemetery.
In the chapter-house the monks transacted their business.
The chapter-house, often one of the richest and most beautiful portions of the cathedral, may be of any form. Those of Canterbury, Exeter, Chester and Gloucester are oblong; those of Salisbury, Wells, Lincoln, York and Westminster are octagonal; and that of Worcester is circular. At Salisbury, Wells, Lincoln and Worcester a single massive shaft supports the vault.
In examining a cathedral we must remember that many changes have taken place since the first stone was laid. If the monks were fortunate enough to have a full treasury, they kept up with the architectural styles. They would pull down the old nave, or choir, or transepts, and erect new buildings, lower the pitch of the roof, add a new porch or door, or insert new windows in the ancient walls. Fires were frequent and lightning and winds often played havoc with towers and spires. Such manifestations of the displeasure of the elements or saints necessitated rebuilding; and, as a rule, this rebuilding was undertaken in the latest fashion. Therefore, we find in most cathedrals specimens of many styles of architecture.
“As we see our cathedrals now, the view that meets us differs much from that which would have greeted us in mediæval times. Then all was ablaze with colours. Through the beautiful ancient glass the light gleamed on tints of gorgeous hues, and rich tapestries and hangings, on walls bedight with paintings, and every monument, pier and capital were aglow with coloured decorations. We have lost much, but still much remains. At the Reformation the avaricious courtiers of Henry VIII. plundered our sacred shrines, and carried off under the plea of banishing superstition vast stores of costly plate and jewels, tapestry and hangings. In the Civil War time riotous, fanatical soldiers wrought havoc everywhere, hacking beautifully-carved tombs and canopies, destroying brasses, and mutilating all that they could find. Ages of neglect have also left their marks upon our churches; and above all the hand of the ignorant and injudicious ‘restorer’ has fallen heavily on these legacies of Gothic art, destroying much that was of singular beauty, and replacing it by the miserable productions of early Nineteenth Century fabrication.”—(P. H. D.)