Cathedral Cities of England

by George Gilbert

Two other scholars were Brooke and Lord Nelson. Brooke entered the East India Company's army in 1819 at the age of sixteen. In his remarkable career he assisted the Sultan of Brunti to reduce the marauding Dyak tribes of Sarawak, and with such success that the Sultan created him rajah of the province of Sarawak in 1841.

A famous school of landscape painting was that at Norwich. It flourished in the first part of the nineteenth century, the principal artists of which were Crome,—who by the way was a native of Norwich,—Cotman, Vincent, and Stark.

Of recent years the Cathedral has undergone extensive restoration, namely, in 1892 and 1900.

Before closing this account we think it would be of interest to outline the causes that embittered the existence of the Jews and led to their persecution through the disappearance of a Christian boy in 1144 from Norwich.

We have had occasion, under Lincoln, to mention the attitude adopted by the citizens towards the Jews. If anything, the feeling was more intense at Norwich. It is uncertain when they first resided in England, though it is supposed they visited before the Conquest for purposes of the slave trade, of which they held a monopoly. The position of the Jews in a Christian State entirely depended upon the attitude of the Church, whose stringent measures effectually precluded any Semitic from the exercise of any public office unless the reception was confirmed by oaths of a Christian character. As this clause was foreign to the tenets of the Hebrew religion, and as the Church regarded the means of loans lent out on interest as prohibited by the Gospel, and as a disreputable calling and unworthy of a Christian, usury became the only means of subsistence to the Jew in England. They were not affected by the views of the Church, and soon made themselves felt. As, however, capital was needed for the building of monasteries, abbeys, and cathedrals by the Church, and the kings of England, especially John and Henry III., found it convenient to extort tallage, the Jews were tolerated. The rate of interest demanded for what was in the first place a trifling loan in a few years increased to a formidable debt. The means adopted by the Christian Church and kings of the middle ages to free themselves from this bondage in no way reflect any honour. The custom appears to have been for the king to seize the whole of the estate, both treasure and debts, of the Jew on his demise, though there may have been sons to inherit. Another was to burn the proofs of indebtedness after having slain the creditors, as the attack against the Jews organised by a set of nobles, who were deep in their debt, is recorded to have taken place at York. For the Jew being a usurer, the estate fell into the hands of the King, who might be influenced to cancel the debt for a much smaller amount. We cannot then wonder that the lower classes followed in the steps of their superiors. But above all, in the twelfth century the Church encouraged the circulation of a suspicion that the Jews sacrificed Christian children in their Passover. However, the suspicion or "blood accusation," as it was called, first took root with a case in which a boy of the name of William disappeared at Norwich. This terrible accusation against the Jews has since been proved to have been founded on the shallowest pretexts, but at the time the myth was nevertheless encouraged by the clergy, since it attracted vast numbers of pilgrims to any cathedral or church which might contain the martyred remains of these boy-saints. The example of Norwich was followed in the same century by one at Gloucester and Edmondsbury, whilst in the following century the supposed martyrdom of Hugh of Lincoln served only to increase and confirm the popular belief. Hence the intense ill-feeling between the Christian and the Jew.

St. Paul's.
Si quaeris monumentum, circumspice.

O epitaph more noble and impressive can have possibly been conceived than the simple Latin inscription placed upon the modest tomb of Christopher Wren: "If ye seek my monument, look around." When building this magnificent structure, the great architect was preparing a glorious sepulchre to receive his remains. Some thirty-five years it took Wren to realise this great achievement—an achievement the more astounding when we learn that he was actively engaged throughout the whole time in the planning and personal superintendence of some thirty churches in London, no two of which are alike. Daily he walked around jotting down a sketch of the next detail to be worked upon, deciding, as the work progressed, and maturing his plans, throwing out one day a course, another day realising an idea that had just occurred to him. Thus the fabric rose higher day by day, month by month, year by year. He adhered to no carefully prepared plans; he entrusted nothing to his subordinates; he hugged the entire responsibility. They did not know what phase of work the morrow would bring. On the day each workman would receive a rough section and plan jotted down on the spot, accompanied with verbal instructions. If, even when finished according to his directions, Wren was dissatisfied with this gem of his brain, down it had to come, to be substituted by some other improved idea. Of course Wren had in the first place to submit plans for the proposed cathedral. It is not likely that any committee would engage in anything so important blindfolded. But these plans only formed the shell on which to peg any new suggestions that might crop up in the progress of the work, very much after the fashion of a plastic sketch submitted by the sculptor to a committee, who look wise and generally make foolish comments. The sketch is merely an indication of what is to come after, and is intended as some guarantee. Without this no conscientious committee would commit themselves to any agreement. They control the expenditure of the public subscriptions. If the finished work does not come up to the promised standard of excellence, the committee can fall back upon the sketch and get exonerated of all culpable blame. The artist gets the abuse for the failure or departure from the original. When such necessarily rough sketches are faithfully carried out, they often are failures; for what look well in a rough sketch often become serious blemishes in the completed work. The true artist is never satisfied—that is, that extraordinary being who has a greater love for art than for mere coin—and will alter and improve upon his original design at every suggestion (and they crowd thick upon him) that makes itself manifest, with a total disregard to his own pocket and that punctuality so essential to the successful city man. He has got his ideal, and he is determined to reach it if he has to go through a brick wall.