[2]. “Thorpe’s Northern Mythology,” vol. II., p. 244.
[3]. “Strange Survivals,” Baring Gould.
[4]. “Strange Survivals,” Baring Gould.
[5]. “Strange Survivals,” Baring Gould.
[p 46]
The Building of the English Cathedrals.
By the Rev. Geo. S. Tyack, B.A.
Of all the sins of the nineteenth century, the one which most militates against its attainment of excellence in art is its impatience. A work has been no sooner decided on, than there is a clamour for its completion. Our cathedrals were for the most part reared in far other times, and are therefore admirable. Growing with the stately, deliberate increase of the ponderous oak, they speak of days when art was original, sincere, patient, and therefore capable of great deeds; original, not in extravagance or eccentricity, but in the realization of the natural development of style, advancing from grace to grace, from the perfection of solidity to the perfection of adornment, by an unforced growth; sincere, in its confidence of its own capacity for fulfilling its appointed end, in its grasp of the possibilities in its materials, in its choice of the true, rather than the easy, method of working; and patient, finally, in its contentment to do in each age a little solidly and well, [p 47] rather than a great deal indifferently, in its aim at artistic perfection in preference to material completeness. Thus it is that none of our cathedrals are the work of one age, save those of Salisbury and London, and even they have details which they owe to succeeding times.
The above words are not intended to imply that our mediæval builders made no mistakes. The brief review of some of their work will show us proof to the contrary; but the mistakes were rare exceptions. If, for instance, a captious critic turns to Peterborough, and points us to the defective foundations, which have recently required the rebuilding of the central tower, and the supposed necessity of reconstructing the west front, all that the case will prove is that our great monastic architects’ work was not always absolutely eternal. “So there was jerry-building in those days too!” someone exclaims, with a note of triumph at the dragging down of the great ideals of the past to the level of the paltriness of the present. If such be the case, we reply, there were indeed giants in those days, the very “jerry building” of which rides out the storms of well-nigh seven centuries before revealing any fatal weaknesses.
[p 48]
In considering these splendid buildings, of which the present century has happily proved itself no unappreciative heir, it will be of interest to devote a few lines to the means which were employed to raise funds for their construction. Several illustrations of the methods employed in the case of cathedrals and other churches have come down to us. The story of the foundation of the new buildings at Crowland Abbey in 1112, exhibits an outburst of popular enthusiasm which irresistibly recalls the free gifts of the Hebrew people for the building of the first temple. “The prayers having been said and the antiphons sung,” says Peter Blesensis, vice-chancellor under Henry II., “the abbot himself laid the first corner-stone on the east side. After him every man according to his degree laid his stone; some laid money, others writings by which they offered their lands, advowsons of livings, tenths of sheep and other church tithes; certain measures of wheat, a certain number of workmen or masons, etc. On the other side, the common people, as officious with emulation and great devotion, offered, some money, some one day’s work every month till it should be finished, some to build whole pillars, others [p 49] pedestals, and others certain parts of the walls.”
Indulgences, remitting so many days’ penance, were sometimes issued to encourage the gifts of the faithful. Thus in the time of Henry VIII. a church brief was issued soliciting help towards the repair of Kirby Belers Church, in Leicestershire, part of which runs as follows:—“Also certayne patriarkes, prymates, &c., unto the nombre of sixtie-five, everie one of theym syngularly, unto all theym that put their helpyng handes unto the sayd churche, have granted xl dayes of pardon; which nombre extendeth unto vij yeres and cc dayes, totiens quotiens.” Sometimes, by way of penance itself, a fine was imposed, which was devoted to a local building fund. Gilbert, bishop of Chichester, in certain constitutions promulgated in 1289 rules that every priest in the diocese who shall be convicted of certain scandalous sins shall “forfeit forty shillings, to be applied to the structure of Chichester Cathedral.” In modern money this fine would amount to something like £40. Walter, Bishop of Worcester, also ordained in 1240 that beneficed priests who dressed unclerically should be fined to the extent of a tenth of their annual revenue for the benefit of the [p 50] building of his cathedral. A yet earlier order concerning laity as well as clergy was issued by the Witan at Engsham, in Oxfordshire, in the year 1009, which decides that “if any pecuniary compensation shall arise out of a mulct for sins committed against God, this ought to be applied, according to the discretion of the bishop,” to one of several pious purposes, of which two are “the repair of churches, and the purchase of books, bells, and ecclesiastical vestments.”