The cathedral church of this city is a fine Gothic edifice, which has lately undergone a thorough repair. It is some satisfaction to see, that if the English build no new cathedrals, they at least preserve the old ones, which I hope and trust are likely to survive that schism which threatened them with destruction, and to witness the revival and restoration of the true faith, whereof they are such splendid memorials.
St Wulstan was the founder. His name indeed is remembered here; but in this church, where the shrine of the founder was once devoutly visited, the tomb which is now pointed out to the notice and respect of travellers is that of the bishop who first set the example of disobedience to king James II. when he attempted to recall the nation to the religion of their fathers! It is not in this magnificent monument of his own rearing that the history of St Wulstan is to be learnt. I have found in the Chronicle of a Spanish Benedictine what I should never have heard at Worcester. This holy man was elected to the see against his own will, nor did he accept it till he had been convinced by signs that it was the will of God. After some years his enemies conspired to depose him. There are few finer miracles in hagiology than that which is recorded as having been vouchsafed upon this occasion. They complained that he was illiterate, and therefore unworthy of the dignity which he held. The true cause of the accusation was, that he was a Saxon; the Norman conquest had been effected since his appointment to the see, and it was wanted for a foreigner. A council was assembled in Westminster abbey. The king and the Norman prelates were prejudiced judges; and Lanfranc, the primate, though too holy a man ever to commit an act of wilful injustice, in his zeal for learning lent a ready ear to the charges, and, being an Italian, was easily deceived by the misrepresentations of the accusers. Accordingly he pronounced sentence of deposition against the saint, and required him to deliver up his ring and crosier. St Wulstan, neither feeling dismay at heart, nor manifesting sorrow in his countenance, rose up as soon as sentence was pronounced against him, and leaning upon his crosier, replied: "Certainly I know that I am unworthy of my honourable office, and unequal to the weight of my dignity; but it is no new thing for me to know this! I knew it and acknowledged it when my clergy elected me; and the bishops compelled me to accept it, and holy king Edward, my lord, by apostolical authority, imposed this weight upon my shoulders, and ordered this crosier to be given into my hands. You," said he, addressing himself to Lanfranc, "you demand from me the crosier which you did not give me, and take from me the office which I did not receive from you. I therefore, confessing my own insufficiency, and obeying the decree of the council, yield up my crosier, not to you, but to him from whose authority I received it." Saying this, he advanced to the tomb of holy king Edward the Confessor. "There are new laws in this land," he exclaimed, "a new king and new prelates, who promulgate new sentences! They accuse thee of error, O holy king, in promoting me, and me of presumption for having obeyed thee. Then, Edward, thou couldst err, for thou wert mortal; but now, when peradventure thou art enjoying the presence of the Lord, now,—canst thou now be deceived?—I will not yield up my crosier to these from whom I did not receive it; they are men who may deceive and be deceived. But to thee do I deliver it, who hast escaped the errors and darkness of the world, and art in the light of truth; to thee with the best willingness I resign my pastoral staff, and render up the charge of my flock. My lord and king, give thou the charge to whom thou thinkest worthy!" He then laid the crosier upon the tomb, disrobed himself of his episcopal insignia, and took his seat like a private monk in the assembly. The crosier entered the stone, as if it had been imbedded in melting wax, and could not be taken from it by any other hand than by that of the holy bishop who had laid it there.
The grave of king John is here, a monarch remarkable in English history for having signed the Great Charter, resigned his crown to the pope's legate, and offered to turn Mohammedan if the Miramolin would assist him against his subjects. As there were some doubts whether the grave which was commonly supposed to be his was really so, it was opened two or three years ago, and the tradition verified. It appeared that it had been opened before for other motives; for some of the bones were displaced, and the more valuable parts of his dress missing. As this was at the time when the revolutionary disposition of the people had occasioned some acts of unusual rigour on the part of government, it was remarked in one of the newspapers, that if king John had taken the opportunity to walk abroad and observe how things were going on, it must have given him great satisfaction to see how little was left of that Magna Charta, which he had signed so sorely against his will.
We waited in Worcester for the coach from Bristol to Birmingham, which passes through in the afternoon, and in which we were tolerably sure of finding room, as it is one of those huge machines which carries sixteen withinside. Its shape is that of a coffin[4] placed upside-down; the door is at the end, and the passengers sit sideways. It is not very agreeable to enter one of these coaches when it is nearly full: the first comers take possession of the places nearest the door at one end, or the window at the other, and the middle seats are left for those who come in last, and who for that reason, contrary to the parable of the labourers in the vineyard, may literally be said to bear the heat of the day. There were twelve passengers already seated when we got in; they expressed no satisfaction at this acquisition of company; one woman exclaimed that she was almost stewed to death already, and another cried out to the coachman that she hoped he would not take in any body else. The atmosphere of the apartment, indeed, was neither fresher nor more fragrant than that of a prison; but it was raining hard, and we had no alternative. The distance was only two stages, that is a long day's journey in our own country, but here the easy work of five hours; but I never before passed five hours in travelling so unpleasantly. To see any thing was impossible; the little windows behind us were on a level with our heads, the coachman's seat obstructed the one in front, and that in the door-way was of use only to those who sat by it. Any attempt which we made at conversation by way of question, was answered with forbidding brevity; the company was too numerous to be communicative; half of them went to sleep, and I endeavoured to follow their example, as the best mode of passing away time so profitless and so uncomfortable. But it was in vain; heat, noise, and motion, kept me waking. We were heartily rejoiced when the coach arrived at Birmingham, and we were let loose, to stretch our limbs at liberty, and breathe an air, cool at least, if not fresh.
[3] Hudibras might have added this illustration to his well-known simile of the new noses: but the experiments of Taliacotius have been verified in modern times; and this may teach us not too hastily to disbelieve an assertion which certainly appears improbable.—Tr.
[4] The author compares one of these coaches elsewhere, (vol. i. p. 35,) to a trunk with a rounded lid, placed topsy-turvy. It should appear, therefore, that coffins in Spain are shaped like trunks.—Tr.
LETTER XXXVI.
Birmingham.—Miserable State of the Artificers.—Bad Guns manufactured for the Guinea Trade.—Anecdotes of Systematic Roguery.—Coiners.—Forgers.—Riots in 1791.—More Excuse for Dishonesty here than in any other Place.
Thursday, July 7.—Birmingham.