The Cathedral Church of Canterbury [2nd ed.] / A Description of Its Fabric and a Brief History of the Archiepiscopal See

by Hartley Withers

The bones of St. Dunstan were long a cause of contention between the churches of Canterbury and Glastonbury. The monks of Glastonbury considered that they had a prior claim on the relics of the sainted archbishop, and stoutly contended that his body had been conveyed to their own sanctuary after the sack of Canterbury by the Danes; and they used to exhibit a coffin as containing Dunstan’s remains. But early in the fourteenth century they went so far as to set up a gorgeous shrine in which they placed, with much pomp and circumstance, the supposed relics. Archbishop Warham, who then ruled at Canterbury, accordingly replied by causing the shrine in our cathedral to be opened, and was able to declare triumphantly that he had found therein the remains of a human body, in the costume of an archbishop, with a plate of lead on his breast, inscribed with the words “Sanctus Dunstanus.” In the course of the subsequent correspondence which passed between the two monasteries, the Abbot of Glastonbury, after trying to argue that perhaps part only of the saint’s relics had been conveyed to his church, at last frankly confesses “the people had believed in the genuineness of their saint for so long, that he is afraid to tell them the truth.” This shrine of St. Dunstan stood on the south of the high altar, and was erected after the manner of a tomb: though the shrine itself perished at the time of the Reformation, there still remains, on the south wall of the choir, between the monuments of Archbishops Stratford and Sudbury, some very fine open diaper-work, in what is known as the Decorated style, which once formed part of the ornamentation of St. Dunstan’s altar. The shrine of St. Elfege, or Alphege, who was archbishop at the time of the sacking of Canterbury by the Danes, and was murdered by them, has been altogether destroyed.

The Choir Screen, a solid structure of stone we know to be the work of Prior de Estria, i.e., of Eastry in Kent, who was elected in 1285, and died in 1331. According to the Obituary record, he “fairly decorated the choir of the church with most beautiful stone-work cunningly carved.” In his Register there is an entry which evidently refers to the same work: “Anno 1304-5. Reparation of the whole choir with three new doors and a new screen (pulpito).” The three doors referred to are the north and south entrances and the western one. It has already been pointed out that the present western screen is a later addition. Professor Willis, whose great work on the Architectural History of Canterbury Cathedral should be studied by all who wish to examine the details of the building more closely than is allowed by the scope of this work, describes De Estria’s screen as follows: “The lateral portions of this wall of enclosure are in excellent order. In the western part of the choir, namely, between the eastern transepts and the organ-screen, this wall is built so that its inner face nearly ranges with the inner faces of the pillars; but eastward of the transepts it is built between the pillars. The north doorway remains perfect. The present south doorway, which is in a much later style, is manifestly a subsequent insertion. This enclosure consists of a solid wall, seven feet nine inches in height from the pavement of the side-aisles. It has a stone-bench towards the side-aisles, and above that a base, of the age of William of Sens; so that it is clear that the work of De Estria belongs to the upper part only of the enclosure, which consists of delicate and elaborately worked tracery, surmounted by an embattled crest.... The entire work is particularly valuable on account of its well-established date, combined with its great beauty and singularity.”

A portion of the choir-pavement, lying between the two transepts, is interesting as being undoubtedly part of the original flooring of Conrad’s choir, and probably the only fragment of it that was left undisturbed after the great fire which destroyed “that glorious choir which had been so magnificently completed by the care and industry of Prior Conrad.” This part of the pavement consists of large slabs of a peculiar “stone, or veined marble of a delicate brown colour. When parts of this are taken up for repair or alteration, it is usual to find lead which has run between the joints of the slabs and spread on each side below, and which is with great reason supposed to be the effect of the fire of 1174, which melted the lead of the roof, and caused it to run down between the paving stones in this manner.” It is said that when the choir was filled with pews in 1706, and it was necessary to remove part of the pavement, the men engaged on the work picked up enough of this lead to make two large gluepots.

The original wooden stalls of the choir were described by the writer of a book published in 1640. He relates that there were two rows on each side, an upper and a lower, and that above the stalls on the south side stood the archbishop’s wooden chair, “sometime richly guilt, and otherwise richly set forth, but now nothing specious through age and late neglect.” Perhaps the battered and shabby condition of this part of the cathedral furniture accounts for its having survived the Puritan period; it is at least certain that it remained untouched until 1704, when the refurnishing of the choir was begun by Archbishop Tenison; he himself presented a wainscoted throne with lofty Corinthian canopy adorned with carving by Gibbons, while the altar, the pulpit, and the stalls for the dean and vice-dean were provided with rich fittings by Queen Mary II. The tracery of the screen was hidden by a lining of wainscoting, which was put before it. This arrangement lasted little more than a century. In the time of Archbishop Howley, who held office from 1828 to 1848, the wainscoting which concealed the screen was taken away, and Archbishop Tenison’s throne has made way for a lofty canopy of tabernacle work. Some carved work, which has been ascribed to Gibbons, still remains before the eastern front of the screen, between the choir and the nave.

The position of the organ has been frequently shifted. In Conrad’s choir it was placed upon the vault of the south transept; afterwards it was set up upon a large corbel of stone, over the arch of St. Michael in the same transept. This corbel has now been removed; subsequently it was placed between two pillars on the north side of the choir, and, later on, it was again transferred to a position over the west door of the choir, the usual place for the organ in cathedral churches; finally it has been “ingeniously deposited out of sight in the triforium of the south aisle of the choir; a low pedestal with its keys stands in the choir itself, so as to place the organist close to the singers, as he ought to be, and the communication between the keys and the organ is effected by trackers passing under the pavement of the side aisles, and conducted up to the triforium, through a trunk let into the south wall.” This arrangement not only secures the retirement from view of the organ, which, with its tedious rows of straight and unsightly pipes, is generally more or less an eyesore in cathedrals, but is said to have caused a great improvement in the effect of its music. The present organ, which was built by Samuel Green, is believed to have been used at the Handel Festival in Westminster Abbey in 1784. It was enlarged by Hill in 1842, and entirely reconstructed in 1886. In this connection we may mention that Archbishop Theodore first introduced the ecclesiastical chant in Canterbury Cathedral.

The tombs in the choir are all occupied by famous archbishops and cardinals. On the south side, hard by the site of the shrine of St. Dunstan, is the tomb of Simon of Sudbury, who was archbishop from 1375 to 1381. He built the west gate of the city, and a great part of the town walls; in consideration of these benefits the mayor and aldermen used at one time to make an annual procession to his resting-place and offer prayers for his soul. Outside Canterbury his acts were not regarded with so much gratitude, for he was the inventor, or reviver, of the poll tax, and was in consequence beheaded on Tower Hill by Wat Tyler and his followers. Stanley relates that “not many years ago, when this tomb was accidentally opened, the body was seen within, wrapped in cere-cloth, a leaden ball occupying the vacant place of the head.” Sudbury is also famous as having spoken against the “superstitious” pilgrimages to St. Thomas’ shrine, and his violent death was accordingly attributed to the avenging power of the incensed saint. Westward of his monument stands that of Archbishop Stratford (1333-1348), who was Grand Justiciary to Edward III. during his absence in Flanders, and won fame by his struggle with the king. Between this tomb and the archbishop’s throne lies Cardinal Kemp (1452-1454), who was present at Agincourt in the camp of Henry V.; his tomb is surmounted by a remarkable wooden canopy. Opposite, on the north side, is the very interesting monument of Archbishop Henry Chichele (1414-1443). Shakespeare tells us that he was the instigator of Henry V.’s war with France, and it is supposed that out of remorse for this act he built, during his lifetime, the curious tomb which now conceals his bones; it is kept in repair by All Souls’ College, which was founded by the penitent archbishop that its fellows might pray for the souls of all who had perished during the war; the effigy, in full canonicals, with its head supported by angels, and with two monks holding open books, kneeling at its feet, lies on the upper slab; and underneath is a ghastly figure in a winding-sheet, supposed to represent the archbishop after death; the diminutive figures which originally filled the niches were destroyed by the Puritans, but have been to some extent replaced. The gaudy colours of the tomb enable one to form some idea of the appearance of the churches in the Middle Ages, when they were bedizened with painted images, hangings, and frescoes: to judge from this specimen the effect must have been distinctly tawdry. Further east we find the monument of Archbishop Howley; he was chiefly remarkable as having crowned Queen Victoria and married her to the Prince Consort, and his monument is noticeable as being the first erected to an archbishop, in the cathedral, since the Reformation; he himself lies at Addington. Beyond is a fine tomb well worthy of examination, crowned by an elaborate canopy which shows traces of rough usage at the hands of the restoring enthusiasts, who surrounded the choir with classical wainscoting after the Restoration. It is the monument of Archbishop Bourchier, a staunch supporter of the House of York; he was primate for thirty-two years, from 1454 to 1486, and crowned Edward IV., Richard III., and Henry VII. The “Bourchier knot” is among the decorations which enrich the canopy of his tomb.

The South-East Transept.—According to the present custom of the Canterbury vergers, the visitor is led from the choir to the south-east transept. “In the choir of Ernulf,” says Willis, “the transepts were cut off from the body by the continuity of the pier-arches and the wall above, and each transept was therefore a separate room with a flat ceiling.... But in the new design of William the transepts were opened to the central portion, and the triforium and clerestory of the choir were turned at right angles to their courses, and thus formed the side walls of the transepts.... The entire interior of the eastern transept has been most skilfully converted from Ernulfian architecture to Willelmian (if I may be allowed the phrase for the nonce). It was necessary that the triforium and clerestory of the new design should be carried along the walls of these transepts, which were before the fire probably ornamented by a continuation of those of Ernulf. But the respective level of these essential members were so different in the old and new works that the only parts of them that could be retained were the windows of the old clerestory, which falls just above the new triforium tablet, and accordingly these old windows may still be seen in the triforia of the transepts, surmounted by the new pointed clerestory windows. But the whole of the arcade work and mouldings in the interior of these transepts belongs to William of Sens, with the sole exception of the lower windows. Even the arches which open from the east wall of these transepts to the apses have been changed for pointed arches, the piers of which have a singularly elegant base.”

In the two apses of this transept altars to St. Gregory and St. John once stood, and here were shrines of four Saxon primates. There is a window in the south wall erected to the memory of Dean Alford; below it is the spot on which the tomb of Archbishop Winchelsea (1294-1313) was placed. He was famous for his contest with Edward I. concerning clerical subsidies, and for having secured from the king the confirmation of the charter. He was more practically endeared to the people by the generosity of his almsgiving—it is said that he distributed two thousand loaves among the poor every Sunday and Thursday when corn was dear, and three thousand when it was cheap. His tomb was heaped with offerings like the shrine of a saint, but the Pope refused to confirm the popular enthusiasm by canonizing the archbishop; the fact, however, that it had been so reverenced was enough to qualify it for destruction in the days of Henry VIII. This transept is used at present as a chapel for the King’s School, a direct continuation of the monastery school, at which Archbishops Winchelsea and Kemp were both educated. It contains the Corinthian throne which was set up in the choir early in the last century.