The old pews mentioned above rose in tiers, high and plain, on either side of the central alley, and the wainscoting behind them shut off the transepts, turning them into separate chapels. They and it were only removed in 1867.
Decorative Mural Painting.—On removing the panelling at the back of the old choir stalls, Sir Gilbert Scott found that the whole length of the walls had once been painted. The old stalls were fortunately so high that they had saved not only the lower border, which, with its ribbon pattern and yellow six-petalled roses, is the same on each wall, but nearly a complete row of the main design as well. Scott retained this, and repeated it over the rest of the space, up to the top border, of which traces remained just under the first string-course. This upper border varies slightly on the different sides. The shields in it, formerly blank, are now occupied with the coats-of-arms of bishops of the see.
The pattern that covers the space between the borders is certainly heraldic. The lions in the red quatrefoils, and the fleurs-de-lis in the alternate blue spaces, correspond in every possible way—in form, colour, and ground—with those of the royal arms of England and of France. Dating, as they almost certainly do, from the fourteenth century, they remind us of the attempts of Edward III. and his brave son to unite both realms under his sway. The idea of the design may have come from Canterbury, where an earlier border, of similar materials, alluded perhaps to Edward II.’s marriage with Isabella of France. After making this suggestion, Canon Scott Robertson[14] records a mention of the use, at much the same time, of a similarly constituted pattern on some altar-cloths at Westminster Abbey.
The painting is continued on oak panelling across the organ screen. A piece of the original panelling, with a fragment of an earlier rather tartan-like pattern also, is now hung, under glass, on a pier opposite the chapter-house door.
The Bishop’s Throne, on the south side, just to the west of the crossing, is of carved oak, in the Gothic style, and has a rich canopy. It was designed by Scott, and was a present to the cathedral from Lord Dudley, a brother-in-law of Bishop Claughton. Of two of its predecessors some particulars can be given. In 1743 Bishop Wilcocks gave a throne, classical in style, with a flat pedimental canopy supported by massive columns. The place of this was taken in 1840 by a new work of Cottingham’s, which was still more quickly supplanted by the present throne. Cottingham’s did not, however, long remain unused; it was taken to St. Albans in 1877 for the enthronement of Dr. Claughton as the first bishop of that new see.
On the north wall, directly opposite the bishop’s throne, there still remains a portion, about 5 ft. 10 in. high and 2 ft. 2 in. wide, of an old fresco painting of that favourite mediæval subject, The Wheel of Fortune. This was uncovered when the older pulpit was taken down to make room for Mr. Cottingham’s in 1840. At that time, we are told, the background had a diaper of small flowers, and there was the outline of a shield above, in which, however, no charges could be traced. Fortune, pictured as a queen, is robed in yellow, and regulates the movement of her wheel, of the same colour, with her right hand. It is interesting to trace the changes in the dress of the other figures. At her feet a man, plainly clad in a dark red gown, with green stockings and black shoes, is trying to gain a position on the wheel. Above this poor struggling one we see one who has risen halfway to the summit, and whose attire is correspondingly richer. His gown is a little lighter in colour, and has a hood to match; his sleeves are yellow, his stockings green, and his shoes ornamented. At the top is proudly and comfortably seated the present favourite, richly arrayed in a full robe of red turned up with white, with furs round his neck, a white belt and green hose. He looks towards the missing half of the picture, where others were no doubt represented as falling or fallen from the high place that he now holds, and his countenance seems to express mingled satisfaction and inquietude.