' \ ' THE CATHEDRALS OF ENGLAND AND WALES BY Charles W hibley > b.a. (Formerly Scholar of Jesus College, Cambridge) WITH A PREFACE BY The Right Rev. Henry C. Potter, D.D, LL.D. BISHOP OF NEW YORK ILLUSTRATED With SIXTEEN COLOURED PLATES After Water-colour Drawings by A. WILDE PARSONS NEW YORK E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY 31 West Twenty-third Street 1888 . x Copyright 1888 E. P. Dutton and Company. Produced and printed by - Ernest Nister at Nuremberg. * COPYRIGHT. Warriors Chapel Canterbury CatKedral Lijt °f I llvjt ration/ ■ COLOURED PLATES BY A . W . PARSONS St. Paul’s, from the S.W. . . . Frontispiece Exeter, from the S.E. Page 30 Canterbury, from the S.W. Page 2 Norwich, from the S.E. ,.36 Durham, W. Front.„ 6 York, W. Front. ,,40 Lincoln, from the S.W. .,10 Salisbury, from the Bishop’s Palace . ,, 44 Hereford, from the N.W. >>14 Gloucester, from the N.W.,48 Ely, W. Tower .,, iS Worcester, from the N.E.,, 54 Carlisle, from the N.W.,, 22 Lichfield, from the SAN’. ,>56 Chester, from the N.E.. 26 Wells, W. Front.„ 60 VIGNETTES Canterbury, Warriors’Chapel By A . W. Parsons Southwell, W. By Allan Barraud 32 Salisbury, Close of Sarum . . A . Wilson Peterborough, W. Front . ,, A . F . Lydon 34 Lincoln, Doorway.„ A . W . Parsons i Ripon, E.,, A . F . Lydon 35 Ely, Doorway.„ A . W . Parsons iv Oxford.„ A . F . Lydon 38 Canterbury Cloisters . . . ,, A . W. Parsons 5 St. David's.„ A . W . Parsons 39 Do. Interior.. Allan Barraud 8 Lincoln, N. Porch .... „ Allan Barraud 41 Do. Baptistery . . . ,, A . W . Parsons 9 Lichfield, W. Door ... ,, A . W . Parsons 43 Winchester, N.W.,, W . G . Addison 11 Bristol, N.E.,, A . W . Parsons 4O St. Alban's, N.E.,, Allan Barraud 11 St. Asaph.,, A . W . Parsons 46 Rochester, W., Front . . . ,, Allan Barraud 14 Newcastle.,, A . W . Parsons 48 Hereford, Altar Screen . . ,, A . W . Parsons 16 Bath.,, W . G . Addison 50 Ely, Lantern Tower . . . „ A . W . Parsons 18 Bangor.,, Allan Barraud 50 Worcester, Nave, E. . . . „ A . W . Parsons 19 St. Paul’s, from Ludgate Hill ,, Allan Barraud 52 St. Alban's Shrine .... ,, Minnie Lawson 22 St. Paul’s, Interior. Allan Barraud 53 Lincoln, Column, Chapter-House A . W . Parsons 23 Manchester, S.E.. Allan Barraud 55 Durham, Sanctuary Knocker . ,, G . E . Moira 25 Liverpool, S.W.. A . W . Parsons 55 Li.andaff, W. Front ....,, Allan Barraud 27 Truro, S.E.,, A . F . Lydon 57 Chichester . H . Austin 30 Exeter, Pulpit. . A . W . Parsons 60 Introduction Canterbury Lincoln. St. Albans Winchester Rochester. Hereford . Ely . . . Worcester Gloucester Carlisle Durham . . Norwich Chester Llandaff. . Chichester Southwell Exeter . . G OA.teiv.tj PAGE 5 8 IO 12 13 1 5 16 18 20 21 22 2 3 2 5 26 28 2 9 3 ° 3 1 Peterborough Ripon Oxford St. David's Wells . York. . Lichfield Salisbury Bristol. St. Asaph Newcastle Manchester Bangor . . Bath. . . St. Paul’s Liverpooi Truro . Epilogue R'eface. C i -HE increased facilities of modern travel have made Americans, of late years, _Z widely familiar with the English Cathedrals, and a growing appreciation of their varied interest and beauty has contributed to prepare the way for such a volume as this. More extended histories of the English Cathedrals already exist; but the costly and now rare works of Winkles and others are out of the reach of most readers, and contain much that is of value mainly to specialists. There is room for something not so extensive, and yet sufficiently rich in fact and illustration, and it is the aim of this volume to supply such a want, and to provide a Souvenir for those whose privilege it has been to visit the Cathedrals of England and Wales. In one sense, the age of the Cathedrals can never come again. The Church finds itself amid conditions differing widely, in many respects, from those of the generations that witnessed the large planning and slow building of Ely, Durham, Canterbury, and their peers; and the tasks to which it is called are more urgent and “practical,” as it seems to many, than the building of stately sanctuaries. And yet the least devout mind owns the spell of a Cathedral, and recognises its impressive witness amid the impatient pressure of things temporal, to the enduring interests of a life and world that are eternal. And nowhere is a temper that owns the sanctions of such a world, and the means for its education and development, more needed than in our fevered and material American civilisation. To build something that will endure, and to build our best for God, these may well be aims which enlist the enthusiasm of a Christian people; and if these pages contribute in any measure to awaken and deepen such enthusiasm, they will not have been printed in vain. New York. St. Mark's Day, 18SS. Henry C. Potter. But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloisters pale, And love the high embowed roof, With antic pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light: There let the pealing organ blow, To the full voiced choir below, In service high, and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all heav'n before mine eyes. MILTON. NE of the greatest glories of England is, undoubtedly, the beauty of her cathedral churches. In many a quiet corner of the land, miles away from a large centre of population, we see standing out strongly against the sky a Gothic Church, with its massive towers and graceful arches. Often it occupies a piece of rising ground apart from the habitation of men, and, as the sun sets over its western portal, its solitary majesty impresses the beholder with a sense of weirdness which he would scarcely experience elsewhere in Europe. Sometimes, it is true, the cathedral church has been built in the midst of a thriving district, in which, as was the case with Norwich, the city preceded it. Sometimes, too, a busy town has grown up round the cathedral, industries have been developed in its neigh¬ bourhood, and a crowded market, perhaps, established under the very shadow of the sacred walls. And even then the domain of the church has not been encroached upon, and an open space has been left from which we may look up to the grand, though simple, outline of the house of prayer. In many cases, however, as at Ely, the church stands in a bleak, sparsely populated country, and makes us wonder what the monks of old were thinking of, when, in apparent defiance of practical utility, they reared their noble monuments in a desert. Nor is it enough to allege in explanation that the services and ceremonials of the early church required vast spaces for their performance. We must realise at once that the primary object of the magnificent abbey and cathedral churches of England was not one of worship. Their enormous size, which is, as a rule, out of all proportion to the surrounding population, convinces us that they were erected with an entirely different purpose. Their pious founders were animated by a spirit of reverence and devotion which took no count of utility, and with loving hands made their churches as beautiful and imposing as possible, to serve as monuments to the glory of God. When we pass beneath the arched doorway and gaze up at the “ storied windows richly dight,” through which the sunlight falls in a thousand colours on to the white pillars opposite; or when, at twilight, we hear the “ Pealing organ blow To the full-voiced choir below,” we feel that it is possible sometimes to escape from the hurry of niodern life, and, as it were, to stand aside and let the crowd go by. And then, if we stroll through the cloisters and into the quiet close, where, centuries ago, monks prayed and caroused, studied and slept, we seem to get a peep into the middle ages; the spirit of medisevalism hovers over the place just as it does over the nooks and corners of many a small German town. At such times as this we forget that a cathedral is really the seat of a bishop and the centre of a mighty organisation; we only regard it as a treasury of holy 6 monuments and revered associations. Time, too, has hallowed these ancient churches, and history has left its mark on gateway, tower, and window. The majority of them did not spring at once into being, but grew up gradually; added to now and then by a pious abbot; altered century after century to conform to successive canons of taste; plundered now and again to satisfy the cupidity, or pay for the campaigns of ambitious monarchs; and too often mutilated and defaced by the misplaced ardour of fanatics. And yet this very compositeness increases their interest a hundredfold. The vicissitudes through which they have passed have given them a historic as well as an aesthetic value. The history of the Church, in early times at any rate, was the history of the country, and the vaulted roof and grey-grown traceries of many a cathedral are to-day historical documents no less valuable than records of wars or dry-as-dust chroni¬ cles. Curiously enough, too, all the cathedrals have suffered the same shocks, and endured common disasters. The Reformation came as a blow upon them all, and the zeal of the Puritans made itself felt upon every one of them. They all experienced the neglect of the 18th century, and suffered from the ignorant restorers of a hundred years ago. In our own time they have, with scarcely an exception, known the benefit of the Gothic revival, and been saved from dilapidation by the intelligent care of such artists as Sir Gilbert Scott. The Story of the Cathedrals, then, is the life-story of many generations of skilful architects and earnest bishops, whose energy and devotion made it possible to build them, and whose zeal and knowledge have repaired what time, fire, and fanaticism have destroyed. It should be explained, at the outset, that there is no real distinction, either of architecture or plan, between a cathedral church (or cathedral, as it is generally called) and an ordinary parish church. When we speak of a building as a cathedral, we mean nothing more than that it contains a Bishop’s throne. Many of our grandest cathedrals were originally only the houses of prayer attached to the larger abbeys. For instance, th< great Norman Church at Ely did not become a cathedral until it was nearly finished; the churches at Peterborough and Gloucester remained in the hands of the monks until the suppression of the monasteries at the Reformation; while St. Albans was only made a bishopric in 1877, when the noble abbey was very properly chosen as the centre of the newly-con¬ stituted diocese. This fact must be borne in mind, as later on we shall have to say something about the monasteries and their abbots, who were, as a rule, not only ecclesiastics, but architects. Before the introduction of Christianity into England, the religion of the English was that of the rest of the German race. They worshipped Woden, the mighty god of war, the patron of letters, on whose shoulders sat two ravens, named Thought and Memory; next to him they reverenced Thor, the cloud-compeller, who sent the thunder and rain; and the peace-loving Freya, whose gifts were sunshine and fruitfulness. To the English, too, every wood and lake was the home of sprites and nixies; and from these fancies sprung up a kind of nature-worship, which required for its administration neither priest nor temple. It is not to be wondered at, then, that our remote forefathers had little or no religious architecture. They did not unite in the worship of their gods, but each on his own hearth offered up his own sacrifice. But with the conversion of our island to Christianity a great change took place. At the end of the 6th century, Ethelbert, who was King of Kent, married Bertha, daughter of King Charibert of Paris. This, though unimportant in itself, led to important results, for Bertha was a Christian, and she brought with her to Canterbury a Christian bishop. The Church of St. Martin at Canterbury, which was then a ruin, but is said to have once been a church of the British Christians, became the centre of the new worship. Encouraged by Bertha, Gregory the Great, Bishop of Rome, sent Augustine over to England in 597 to preach Christianity. Sixty years later, after a terrible struggle, the new faith triumphed over heathenism, and the Church of Christ was firmly established in England. A period of architectural and ecclesiastical activity began at once; dioceses were formed and cathedrals and churches built in every district of the country. Of*these Saxon churches very few ti ices now remain. They were of stone, and being built under Roman auspices, and on the Roman model, almost invariably had a semi-circular apse at their east end. Their walls were of the rudest workmanship; the heads of their doors and windows were either round or triangular; for the capitals and bases of their columns they had only square blocks of stone, roughly cut; and their ornament throughout was of the meagrest description. These churches, however, served their purpose for some hundreds of years; but fire and the incursions of the Danes destroyed a large number of them. Those that did survive until the Norman Conquest were razed to the ground—partly, perhaps, because they were made the strongholds of the most deter¬ mined opponents of William of Normandy, and partly because they were repugnant to the principles of architecture in which the conquering Normans had been educated. Whatever was the cause of their destruction, we can scarcely for a moment 1 ret ii. Any interest which they might have possessed, had they survived to our own day, would have been purely antiquarian ; and we may well congratulate ourselves that the productions of a people unskilled in the arts perished to make way for some of the most splendid examples of archi¬ tecture which Europe has ever known. The Story of the English cathedrals, as we see them to-day, in reality begins with the Conquest of England by the Normans. As we shall see, a brilliant outburst of activity followed William l.’s invasion of our 7 island. After the Conquest of England by William of Normandy, an extraordinary religious revival took place. The new king realised at once how powerful a check a well-organised church would be to the ambition of the baronage. He therefore lost no time in deposing Stigand from the see of Canterbury, and appointing the Norman Lanfranc archbishop in his stead. A similar change was made in every diocese and abbey in England. Normans were every¬ where elected abbots and bishops, and, aided by the immense wealth of the king, they began at once to cover England with abbeys and cathedrals, built on the vast scale to which their own country had accustomed them. We are lost in amazement at the gigantic enterprises which these ecclesiastical architects undertook. The existing churches, the work of the Saxons, they pulled down and rebuilt with a lavish splendour which was then unparalleled. In every corner of the land they built up new churches in the style which they had learned at home, carrying out in many cases plans which they had already em¬ ployed on the other side of the Channel. Speaking of Norman architecture, Prof. Freeman says: “Majestic and awful rather than beautiful, no style is more truly religious or more imbued with the spirit and position of the church in its own day;" and he goes on to say that no period has “ produced structures whose number, size, splendour and richness, bear more honourable testimony to the zeal and bounty of their founders." And this does not at all over-state the case. Some idea may be given of the influence of the Normans on our architecture by the statement, that of all our cathedrals only seven show no trace what¬ ever of Norman workmanship. In some churches, it is true, these traces are only discernible to the antiquarian eye; existing, perhaps, nowhere but in the crypt or in the foundations; still, the fact that they are there at all is no less significant. As we have already indicated, the most pro¬ minent characteristic of Norman architecture is a dignified severity. In buildings belonging to this period we notice that the arches are generally semi¬ circular, the windows narrow and round-headed. The ornamentation is not, as a rule, highly finished, the capitals being often carved in outline, and the mould¬ ings imperfectly formed. One other peculiarity in the style must be noticed, namely, the semi-circular or apsidal termination at the east of the church. To carry out the complete plan of a Norman church three towers were necessary: one over the centre, and two at the west end. The cathedral churches of Peterborough and Norwich will, perhaps, give us the clearest idea of both the strength and weakness of the Norman style. Soon, however, the fashion in architecture began to change. The brilliant and wealthy bishops and abbots of the latter part of the 12th and of the 13th century found the Norman churches too small and simple for their taste. It was then that the new style, which is now generally known as Early English, developed itself. After a brief period of transition, during which the characteristics of the Norman and Early English styles were gracefully blended, the latter completely predominated and flourished for upwards of a hundred years, to the ineffaceable glory of the English architects. The distinguishing quality of the churches built during this period is a lightness and elegance of proportion in marked contrast to the noble restraint of their predecessors. The round arch is no more seen; the pointed, or lancet-shaped, has entirely taken its place. A good deal of speculation and dis¬ cussion has been wasted upon the origin of the pointed arch. Some critics have held that it was suggested by the interlacing of two round arches; but in all probability it was no new thing, and was adopted because it was not only beautiful, but structurally con¬ venient. The churches of the 13th century, too, are marked by their increased height, and by the slender¬ ness of their pillars and columns. The builders no longer confine themselves to hewn stone, but freely employ Purbeck marble. Ornamentation is more pro¬ fuse, and executed with far greater skill and delicacy. The most complete example of this style is Salisbury Cathedral. In the 14th century the Lancet, or Early English style, disappeared, and was replaced by what was called, on account of its increase of ornament, the Decorated style. The proportions of the latter are less lofty than those of the Early English; its win¬ dows are wider and divided by mullions into several lights. A profusion of decoration is to be observed in the tracery of the windows, while the mouldings throughout are far richer and more elaborate. The final form which Gothic architecture assumed in England began to show itself in the reign of Richard II. In consequence of the recurrence of perpendicular lines in the buildings of this period, the style is generally known as Perpendicular; its arches are wider, and more depressed; its windows are often of vast size and divided into stories. Its walls are invariably ornamented with panelling, and in the later development of the style, the Tudor rose, the portcullis, and fleur-de-lis, are everywhere found as decorations. Though few English cathedrals are free from Perpendicular additions, it is not in any of our cathedral churches that we can best study this, the declining stage of Gothic architecture. The most complete examples of it are to be found in the cloisters and King Henry VII.’s chapel at Westminster. Towards the end of the 16th century, the Renaissance, or revived classical style, began to assert itself in England. It reached us late, and perhaps never really satisfied our national taste. Only one cathedral in England, the great church of St. Paul, in London, is built in this style, and we will postpone anything we may have to say upon the subject until we come to the discussion of that edifice. The architectural taste of modern England is due to an extraordinary Gothic revival which took place some fifty years ago. This revival, which was due in a great measure to the genius of Sir Gilbert Scott, has resulted in the building of one cathedral church 8 in the Gothic style, and in the careful, perhaps too careful, restoration of many others. It is but fitting that our Story of the Cathedrals should begin with (Cantfrbuq?- Canterbury; for not only is it here that the seat of the Arch¬ bishop is placed, but the site upon which the cathedral now stands is one of the oldest connected with Christianity in England. The glorious pile which to-day overshadows the quiet city in Kent may be said to epitomise the growth and progress of our religion. Every struggle which the English Church has endured, every reformation which it has witnessed, is in- effaceably written upon the high-arched windows and grey walls of the edifice which contains the primate's throne. When, in the reign of the Christian King Ethelbert, St. Augustine came as a missionary to Kent, it was Canterbury which was granted to him as a home. There a small Saxon church was already in existence, and this, probably enlarged by St. Augustine, became the cathedral when the latter received the title of Archbishop from Pope Gregory. For some centuries quiet reigned at Canterbury, and then the Danes came, laying waste with fire and sword wherever they went. The invaders partially de¬ stroyed the old Saxon church, but in 938 Archbishop Odo rebuilt it. Odo’s church lasted less than a century, and in its turn fell before the ravages of the Danes. Once again, in 1017, the cathedral was rebuilt, but calamity soon overtook it, and in 1067 a terrible fire levelled it with the ground. Lanfranc, the first Norman appointed to the archiepiscopal see, found his church a heap of ruins. He at once began to build it from the very foundations; and it is with his enterprise that the history of the present cathedral really begins. During the ten years of his primacy the whole structure was completed in the pure Norman style, but only slight traces of his work are discernible to-day. The nave and western towers, perhaps, stand upon the ancient foundations, while a portion of the crypt may be ascribed to Lanfranc. No sooner, however, was the latter succeeded by Anselm, than the choir was found inadequate and pulled down. Under the super¬ vision of Prior Conrad, a larger and finer eastern limb was constructed, which has since been known as “Conrad's glorious choir.” In 1130 the cathedral was solemnly consecrated, and the ceremony was witnessed by a brilliant assem¬ blage of monarchs and prelates. It was only forty years later that the north transept was the scene of that deed of blood with which Canterbury will ever be associated. At dusk on a wintry afternoon, when the year 1170 was hastening to its end, Archbishop Thomas a Becket, after a stormy interview at his palace, was murdered by the four knights, whose names have ever since been notorious. The murdered prelate was silently buried in the crypt. “ No mass,” says Dean Stanley, “was said over the archbishop’s grave ; for from the moment that armed men had entered, the church was supposed to have been desecrated; the pavement of the cathedral was taken up; the bells ceased to ring; the ere divested of their hangings, the crucifixes were veiled; the altars stripped as in Passion week, and the ser¬ vices were conducted without chanting in the chapter-house.” In the following year the church was reconsecrated, and in 1174 the penitent king did absolution for the crime of which he shared the re¬ sponsibility. He went bare¬ footed to St. Thomas’s tomb and submitted to a flogging at the hands of the monks; but even then the “vengeance of God” was not assuaged. Im¬ mediately after the pilgrimage of the repentant king, Con¬ rad’s choir was destroyed by fire. William of Sens, an in¬ genious architect, at once began to repair the ruin. But after he had devoted himself to the work for four years, he received such serious injuries from a fall from a scaffold that he was compelled to surrender his task. The work was carried to completion in 1184 by William “the Englishman.” The choir, thus finished, is the largest known to us, and is built in the Transitional style. Although round arches are still used, Early English features are noticeable. The extreme east end was termi¬ nated by an octagonal structure called Becket’s Crown, which still remains one of the glories of the cathedral. Of the new choir a contemporary description has come down to us by Gervase, a monk, which agrees in detail with the edifice we see now. It was, he says, distinguished by the use of marble instead of 9 stone, by the loftiness of its pillars, and by the beauty of its capitals, which were worked by the chisel, not roughly hewn with the axe. On July 7, 1220, took place the imposing cere¬ mony of the translation of St. Thomas a Becket's body from the crypt to a new shrine in the Trinity Chapel. Henceforth, until the Reformation, this day was observed as a solemn festival of the church. Thousands of pilgrims travelled on foot to the shrine of St. Thomas, bearing with them costly gifts, and carrying away small bottles containing a few drops of the martyr’s blood diluted with water. That such pilgrimages were sometimes made the occasion for a good deal of innocent merriment, we learn from the “ Canterbury Tales.” Vast wealth now began to accumulate at Canterbury. St. Thomas’s shrine was always ablaze with gold, silver, and pre¬ cious stones, and some of the treasure thus gathered was devoted to the improvement of the church. Accord¬ ingly, we hear that, at the end of the 14th century, Prior Chil- lenden rebuilt the nave in the Perpen¬ dicular style, while Prior Molash placed a mighty bell, which he named Dunstan, in the tower standing at the south-west corner of the church. The chapel of the Virgin Mary, or the Dean’s chapel, was built by Prior Goldstone about 1450. But the out¬ burst of architectural energy did not cease here. The great cen¬ tral tower, now known as the Bell Harry Tower, was designed to replace the Angel steeple by Prior Selling, who died in 1494 before the work was completed. It was finished, however, by his successor, Prior Thomas Goldstone, who lavished many gifts upon the cathedral of Canterbury. At this period the appearance of the church must have been barbaric in its splendour. The choir was hung with the costliest tapestries. St. Thomas’s shrine was lavishly heaped up with jewels, many of them “larger than the egg of a goose," as Erasmus says. What a gorgeous pageant must have been witnessed on high festival days, when the church was thronged with visitors from afar, when Harry Bailey led in his crowd of pilgrims, and when the Knight, the Clerk of Oxenford, and the Wife of Bath, joined in doing reverence to the memory of the great saint! But at the Reformation all this was changed. The name of St. Thomas fell into disrepute. He was no longer regarded as a saint, but rather as a traitor to his prince. His magnificent shrine was destroyed, and the treasure which three centuries had accumulated was appropriated by the Crown. That no respect for the name of Becket might linger in the country, all festivals were prohibited between July 7th and September 29th. The popular estimate of Thomas a Becket has undergone another re¬ volution since the 16th century. Our Pro¬ testantism does not allow us to canonise him again, but he is to-day held in almost the same respect with which his name was honoured in the three centuries after his un¬ happy death. In Queen Eliza¬ beth’s reign a crowd of Flemish refugees, driven by religious persecution from their own country, came to Canterbury. There they set up their looms, and in the crypt of the cathedral they were allowed to carry on undisturbed their religious services. In 1643 a par¬ ticularly active and zealous Puritan was entrusted with the “purification” of Can¬ terbury Cathedral. Richard Culmer was his name, but later ages have generally known him as “Blue Dick.” Under the direction of this energetic reformer, all idolatrous images, especially the representations of St. Thomas, were industriously destroyed. The stained glass, for in¬ stance, of the great window in the north transept, which dated from the 15th century, was broken to pieces, with the exception of tiie portraits of Edward IV. and his family. Then began the period of restoration. In the 17th century fresh stalls of the Renaissance style were put up in the choir. A century later, through the muni¬ ficence of one Captain Humphrey Pudner, Becket’s Crown was repaired. Within the last two generations IO the north-west tower has been rebuilt, the west front thoroughly restored, and much else done to beautify the cathedral. With Canterbury Cathedral a long l'st of dis¬ tinguished men has been associated. Many of them now lie buried beneath the shelter of the cathedral walls. Of the archbishops, whose monuments are to be seen within the eastern limit of the church, few are more distinguished than Stephen Langton. To this primate, who regarded himself, not only as the head of the church, but as the defender of the rights and liberties of Englishmen, we owe in a great measure our great Charter. Throughout his career he unflinchingly opposed himself to the tyranny of John, and at his death received the honour of a monument in his own cathedral. To the south of St. Thomas’s shrine lies buried that pattern of chivalry and idol of his age, Edward the Black Prince. He always devoted himself to the interests of Canterbury, and in 1363 founded a chantry chapel in the south transept of the crypt. It was from Canterbury, too, that he was carried to West¬ minster just before his death. And now within the Trinity Chapel, beneath a canopy, is an effigy, which is our best memorial of him. It is of brass, and represents the most brilliant warrior of the 14th cen¬ tury in full armour. Above the monument are hung the prince’s helmet, surcoat, and shield, as well as the scabbard, from which Cromwell is said to have taken the sword. Not far from the Black Prince, on the north side of the shrine, Henry IV. and his Queen are buried. To the many other nobles and prelates in whose honour monuments have been raised at ' .ill not allow i The diocese of Lincoln was formed in the year 1072 by the amalgamation ILilUOln. of the three lesser dioceses of Lindsey, Leicester, and Dorchester. Remigius of Fescaup, the first Norman bishop, immediately on his appointment began to build a cathedral for the newly-established diocese. The church was modelled on the Cathedral of Rouen, and, from the scanty materials upon which we can form a judgment, was of the plain and ineagrest style, and terminated at its east end in a small apse. Bishop Remigius was in some respects a remarkable man, and endowed with immense energy. Though small of stature, as it was said, he was great of soul. And certainly he must have devoted himself persistently to the completion of his cathedral, for in 1092, in the episcopate of Robert Bloet, his successor, it was far enough advanced to be consecrated. The latter was a typical Norman prelate. For some years he had been Chancellor to William Rufus, and was by nature rather a courtier than an ecclesiastic. He outlived his first master by some years, and died with mys¬ terious suddenness while riding at Woodstock with Henry I. But even after death he did not gain peace. The church, to the building of which he had given his aid, was disturbed by his “ sowle and other walking spretes," and many prayers were necessary to purge the spot of his presence. In 1141 fire destroyed the roof of Remigius’ church. The accident, how¬ ever, was hardly cause for regret, as in consequence of it the whole edifice was vaulted with stone. This work was carried out by-Bishop Alexander, who, like his predecessor, Robert Bloet, was given over to pomp and luxury, and paid but scanty attention to his ecclesiastical duties. He was, however, a lover of architecture, and added to his cathedral the western doors, and perhaps began to build the towers. An earthquake fell upon Lincoln in 11S5, and wrought havoc in the Norman church. Fortunately tin brated Hugh of Avalon was appointed bishop of the diocese in the following year. Under his auspices an attempt was at once made to repair the ruin. The eastern transept, as we see it to-day, was first of all completed, and before Hugh's death in 1200 con¬ siderable progress had been made with the western arm of the cathedral. Especial interest attaches to Bishop Hugh's work, because in it we see one of the earliest examples of the pure Early English style. The immediate successors of Hugh of Avalon carried on the restoration so worthily begun. By them the nave was finished, the Galilee porch built, and the west front practically reconstructed. To them, too, we must ascribe the exquisite chapter-house. In 1237, in the episcopate of Robert Grosseteste, a serious feud was waging between the bishop and his chapter. A canon who led the opposition against the bishop was delivering an impressive sermon, in the course of which he exclaimed — “ Were we silent, the very stones would cry out 1 ” At that moment the central tower fell with a terrible shock, partially destroyed the roof of the nave, and buried in its ruins some of the refractory canon’s audience. Grosseteste at once rebuilt it as far as the first story, but it was not finished until nearly a century later. Throughout his tenure of office Grosseteste bore him¬ self like a strong man. He fearlessly opposed the Pope when the latter attempted to force a boy-canon upon Lincoln. At his death strange sounds of music were heard in the air, church bells mysteriously tolled, and many other miracles were wrought. A shrine was built in his honour in the cathedral, but it is now entirely destroyed. We must for a few minutes revert to Hugh of Avalon. In 1220 Pope Honorius had canonised this distinguished prelate, and five and thirty years later the “ Angel Choir ” was commenced in his honour. The foundations of this marvellous structure were laid by Bishop Lexington in 1256. In 1282, in the episcopate of Oliver Sutton, it was completed. When we glance at its wealth of sculptured figures and its delicate traceries, we can only feel surprise that so consummate a work was accomplished in rather more than five and twenty years. Tradition fixes the vear in which the Angel Choir was begun as tte "t tin- martyrdom of the lesser Si. Hugh of Lincoln. A child named Hugh is said to have been beguiled into a Jew’s house, and there cruelly slain. According to an old ballad suggested by the legend, - * Vi r\ckejter Cathedral N W. the deed of blood was done by the Jew’s daughter: “ She wiled him into ae chamber, She wiled him into twa; She wiled him into the third chamber, And that was warst ava. “And she has ta’en out a little pen-knife, Hung low down by h'er gair; She has twined the young thing o’ his life, A word he ne’er spak mair.” We are told that a signal vengeance was wreaked upon the Jews, many of whom were put to death, and their property confiscated. Probably the story is only a picturesque expression of the hatred which was for centuries fostered against the Jews. Stories of the like nature were common throughout the middle ages, Chaucer’s “ Prioress’s Tale ” being, perhaps, the best known example. But whether the murder was ever committed or not, there still exists a shrine to the Little St. Hugh in one of the choir aisles of Lincoln Cathedral. Within the shrine there is still to be seen to-day a small coffin containing the bones of a child. The great tower, which Grosseteste began, was finished with a spire early in the 14th century by Bishop Alderly. Some thirty years later the monu¬ ment to Henry Burghersh was erected. This bishop deserves more than a passing notice. “ He was neither good for church nor state, sovereign nor subjects; but was covetous, ambitious, injurious. Yet he was twice 5 t. Albai\' Abbey lord treasurer, once chancellor, and once sent ambas¬ sador to Bavaria.” So says Fuller. In the time of Burghersh, and indeed for centuries after, Buckingham¬ shire was within the diocese of Lincoln. In that county the Bishop of Lincoln owned a small manor called Fingest. Here it was the practice of Burghersh to retire and enjoy the pleasures of the chase. To increase his own park, he enclosed a large piece of common ground, turning a deaf ear to the protests of the people. For this act of injustice we are told that after his death his spirit, in a suit of green, wandered about the park of Fingest. At last he appeared to one who had been his friend in life, and entreated him to urge the chapter of Lincoln to return to the people the common ground of which he had robbed them. This was done. And then the restless soul of Burg¬ hersh found peace. N,ot far from the tomb of Burghersh stands the monument of Richard Fleming, who was bishop from 1420 to 1431. There are two effigies of this prelate: one represents him habited in all his priestly vest¬ ments, the other shows him a skeleton wrapped in a winding sheet. From this arose the legend that he had starved himself to death, but in reality his emaciated body was only placed where it is to remind us all that “ to this complexion we must come at last.” To William Alnwick (1436—50) we must ascribe, in blame rather than in praise, the great west Per¬ pendicular window, which he inserted in place of the previously existing triplet. He it was, too, who built the upper story of the west towers, the spires of which were taken down in 1S07. The last architec¬ tural additions to Lincoln Cathedral were the two chapels of Bishops Russell (1420—1431) and Longland (1521—47), which stand one on each side of the south porch. We must not omit to mention the bell which hangs in the north-west tower. It was first cast at Lincoln in 1610, and has always been known as “ Great Tom.” Being cracked in 1827, it was recast seven years afterwards, and now once more breaks the stillness of the eastern city. Lincoln Cathedral sustained terrible injuries at the hands of the Parliamentarian Army. Many monu¬ ments were wantonly destroyed, and brasses and metal-work torn from their places and sold. In one respect it has been lortunate ; hitherto it has escaped the zeal of the modern restorer. This immunity is, no doubt, due to the fact that, having been almost. rebuilt during the 13th and 14th centuries, it is struc¬ turally secure. No excuse, therefore, could have been given had an architect been allowed to rob it of its old-world air and rebuild it in accordance with his own taste. As we have seen, since the day when Remigius began to build his church, Lincoln Cathedral has passed through countless changes. The original fabric has almost entirely disappeared; it is only at the west end that we find traces of Norman workman¬ ship. When we look at its glorious nave and its incomparable choir, it is not of the Bishops Remigius and Bloet that we think, but of Hugh of Avalon and rh< ■ n rising ground above the town, cannot fail to impress the spectator. With the exception of Durham, and perhaps Ely, no other English cathedral has the same natural advantages. Of the magnificence of its exterior it is difficult to speak without exaggeration. It is true that fault may be found with the western towers, the upper story of which is as late as the 15th century. It may be objected, too, that the profuseness of its ornamentation has robbed it of some of its pristine dignity. Yet scarcely anyone would deny that, in exchanging the severity of the Norman style for the splendour of its Early English architec¬ ture, its gain has been far greater than its loss. The next church, St. Albans Ab¬ bey, whose story we shall attempt ct. dlLm.'j. to tell, has only been a cathedral for ten years; for the diocese, of which it is now the centre, was not organised until 1877. Historically speaking, how¬ ever, this ancient abbey takes us back more than a thousand years. Few spots in England are so rich in legend and association as St. Albans, the ancient Verulam. St. Alban, from whom the little Hertford¬ shire town is said to have taken its name, has gene- rail}' been regarded as the first who suffered martyrdom in Britain. During the cruel persecution of Diocletian, Alban, a prominent citizen of the town of Verulam, sheltered a Christian priest named Amphibalus, whom for some time he concealed in his house. When concealment became no longer possible, he aided him in making his escape by exchanging clothes with him. For this act Alban was beheaded, and so won a crown :: yrd<'in. Immediately aft< r t which took place about 300, a church is said to have been built in his honour; but of this we know nothing. In 793 Offa, King of Mercia, as a penitential act for having killed Ethelbert, King of the East Anglians, “founded a monastery of Black Monks at the city of Verulam in honour of God and of St. Alban, the proto-martyr of the English." Whether any other church was built during the next 250 years, we cannot tell; but soon after the Conquest, Paul of Caen, a kinsman of Lanfranc, Archbishop of Canterbury, was appointed Abbot of St. Albans. Paul, like many Norman priests in other parts of England, found the Saxon Abbey far too small to satisfy his ambition. In 1077 he began to build the church which still stands on the rising ground above the market town of St. Albans, as well as a vast abbey, which has now entirely disappeared. The ruins of ancient Verulam supplied part of the materials out of which the new church was built, and in addition to this contributions were levied on all in the neighbourhood. One worthy burgher, we are told, sold his sheep and goats to give money to the abbot, and afterwards, when he heard the church bells solemnly tolling, he would say, “ Hark at my sheep and goats bleating!” The church as originally completed was archaic in style and of the simplest construction, its east end terminating in the semi¬ circular apse which, though commonly found in Normandy, is rare in England. For a hundred years the Abbey Church underwent no structural alteration; but in the time of John of Celia, who was abbot in 1195, the Early English style began to prevail, and plans were formed for rebuilding the west end of the abbey. But John of Celia, though endowed with an admirable taste for the arts, was a scholar, and unable to deal with the practical affairs of life. Having pulled down the two western towers, and a portion of the nave, he failed to complete the contemplated work of recon¬ struction. This, however, was carried out by his successor, John of Trumpington, who built a fine western front, but omitted to rebuild the two towers which his predecessor had removed. In 1323 a serious accident occurred in the abbey. Two huge Norman columns on the south side of the nave fell in with a crash while the people were at mass, and carried away with them a large portion of the roof. Hugh of Eversdon, who was then abbot, immediately began the necessary repairs, and rebuilt five bays of the nave in the style of his own time. To the same abbot we probably owe the Lady Chapel, the style of which is Decorated, with flowing tracer}'. Thomas de la Mare (1342—1396) devoted himself to beautifying the interior of his church. He not only erected St. Cuthbert's screen, but he fresh paved the nave with tiles, some of which are still to be seen, and in many other ways adorned the abbey. A handsome brass was laid down to his memory; but it was afterwards taken up, and it is now placed against a blank wall in the presbytery. In 1420 the brilliant John of Wheathamstead was made abbot, and he proceeded at once to what he considered the restoration of the church. He seems to have been a man of restless ambition, more fitted to shine in society than to direct the fortunes of a pious foundation. Under his rule the hospitality of St. Albans Abbey was known far and wide, and many royal and noble personages were entertained under the roof of the generous abbot. And it would have been better if he had confined himself to feasting and conviviality, but, unfortunately, he considered it his duty to carry out architectural improvements. He put in new Per¬ pendicular windows at the west end, where the work of John of Trumpington then existed, as well as in the aisles. He also placed a new ceiling in the choir, and built a richly-adorned chapel to serve as a monument to himself, as well as a chantry in honour of Humphry, Duke of Gloucester. In carrying out these alterations, he displayed a lamentable ignorance of the structure of the abbey. In order to make room for his large Perpendicular windows, he did not hesitate for a moment to weaken the solid walls of the building. In fact, it is to Abbot Wheatham- stead’s ill-considered action that we may ascribe the subsequent dilapidation of the church, which has now happily been arrested. The setting up of an altar-screen by Abbot Wallingford, and the building of the chapel to commemorate Abbot Ramryge in 1509, are the last two facts which we need mention in connection with the history of St. Albans. At the Reformation the monastery of St. Albans was put down, and the buildings ruthlessly destroyed. The church itself was only saved by being purchased by the inhabitants of the town for the sum of ^"400, to serve as a parish church. Then followed a period of long neglect, during which the noble church was allowed to fall into decay, the good people of St. Albans finding it utterly impossible to keep in repair so vast a structure. A passage was made through the building east of the choir, and for many years the Lady Chapel was used as a school. And yet we can scarcely blame the good people of St. Albans for these acts of vandalism. The public spirit which prompted them to rescue the building from the hands of the Reformers is rather entitled to our respect. But for their timely purchase the Abbey Church might have been utterly destroyed. About thirty years ago it was decided to thoroughly restore the church, and the work was placed in the hands of Sir Gilbert Scott. Much has already been done. The great central tower was, in 1870, prevented just in time from tumbling to pieces; the eastern portion has been admirably restored. Many interesting frescoes on the walls have been brought to light; and the fragments of St. Albans shrine have been discovered and ingeniously put together. So much was necessary, and it has been excellently performed; but it may be doubted whether the restoration, or rather reconstruction, of the west end, which forms the last chapter of the story of St. Albans, was either prudent or justified by the circumstances of the case. The most interesting monument in St. Albans Abbey is the shrine of its patron saint. For many centuries the only trace left of this shrine was the marble slab upon which it once stood. During the recent excavations, however, many fragments of carved stone were discovered. These have been pieced together with the utmost skill, and the result is that the famous shrine once more occupies its place in the choir. It was in 1077 that Abbot Paul of Caen began the building of 5 lJLlinrijrStfl‘. St. Albans Abbey. Two years later, Bishop Walkelyn, finding the Saxon church at Winchester too small, and, moreover, partially dilapidated by the Danes, commenced the Norman cathedral which still stands in the quaintest old city of southern England. But the history of Winchester Cathedral does not begin with Bishop Walkelyn. The spot on which he founded his church was already full of holy associa¬ tions. In 635 Birinus paid a visit to the court of King Cynegils at Winchester, and converted the monarch to Christianity. Tradition says that Birinus impressed the simple folk of Winchester by walking back to the shore on the sea to fetch some altar-cloths which he had left behind. Shortly after his departure he was canonised as a saint, and King Cynegils began to build a church in honour of him and St. Peter. This first building having been destroyed in 971, St. Ethelwold, in 980, completed a second cathedral, in which St. Swithin's bones were placed. A hundred years later Bishop Walkelyn laid the foundations of the present cathedral, which, in spite of the changes it has undergone in the last 800 years, still gives us some idea of the grand style of the early Norman architects. The east end of the church originally terminated in an apse; but this is now lost, and the choir has been considerably en¬ larged. The length of the cathedral, however, remains unaltered, for the increase at the east end is counter¬ balanced by the destruction of a portion of the west end, as is proved by the existence outside the church of the foundations of the two massive western towers. The cathedral was built of stone from quarries in the Isle of Wight, and the timber which Bishop Walke¬ lyn used from Ilempage Wood. The legend goes that the b i sh o p, he wanted asked the kin< he might take ever he could cut in Ilempage Wood in four days and four nights. By making almost superhuman efforts, he managed to entirely clear the wood in the time agreed upon, and though William was at first enraged, he was obliged to treat Walke- lvn's practical joke with good humour. In 1100, when William the Red was killed in the New Forest, his body was taken to Winchester and buried beneath the central tower. The ceremony of his interment must have been impressive in its silence, for “no bell was tolled, no prayer was read, no alms were given for the soul of the one baptized and anointed ruler, whose eternal damnation was taken for granted by all as a thing about which there could be no doubt.” Seven years afterwards the threat tower fell down, and this catastrophe was said by some to be the judgment of God for the burial of William Rufus beneath it. This, however, is un¬ likely, as the chronicler of Malmesbury naively remarks, “more especially as the building might have fallen through imperfect construction, even though he had never been buried there.” Walkelyn was a far-seeing man, and at his death he bequeathed a sum of money that the church, which his own devotion had reared, should not be allowed to fall into decay. The tower, therefore, was immediately rebuilt, and still bears the name of Walkelyn’s Tower. The alterations which were carried out in the next century and a half were comparatively unimportant. In 1202 Bishop Toclyme introduced some Early English work in the retro-choir, and in 1299 carved stalls were put up in the monks’ choir. A refectory' for travellers, too, was built—a fact which speaks well for the kindly hospitality of Winchester. The apse at the east end of the presbytery' was replaced in 1318 by a polygonal termination; but it was not till the time of Bishop Edington that any positive reconstruction of the church took place. This prelate actually pulled down forty feet of the western portion of the nave, and put up the facade which exists at present. Not content with this, he destroyed the Nor¬ man clerestory and tri- forium, and replaced them by windows of the Decorated style. This wholesale work of “ restoration ” was carried on by Wyke- ham and Cardinal Beaufort, and that portion of the nave, which escaped the destructive hands of Edington, was entirely transformed by later prelates. It may be some consolation to us in these days of indis¬ criminate rebuilding to reflect that the vice of restoration is not ex¬ clusive!}' a modern one. This feverish rest¬ lessness still con¬ tinued. At the end of the 15th century Bishop Courtenay re¬ decorated the interior, and a few years later Bishop Langton, whose punning device of a musical note (long) and a tun we see in the ceiling, built a chapel to contain his own monument. Langton’s successor, Bishop Fox, the founder of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, destroyed some more Norman work in the presbytery, and put up flying buttresses outside, which have no structural value, and, from an artistic point of view, cannot be too strongly con¬ demned. Then came the Reformation, and for a season at least the builder was unheard in Winchester Cathedral. St. Swithin’s Priory was put down, and the Reformers ruthlessly plundered the cathedral, taking from it gold, silver, and jewels. In 1540 Henry VIII., thinking, perhaps, that where he had destroyed so much, it was his duty to replace something, salved his conscience by erecting a few mean desks in the choir. In the 17th century the classical spirit was allowed to prevail, and a Grecian stone screen, the work of Inigo Jones, took the place of the old rood loft. This was bad enough ; but worse treatment was in store for the cathedral at the hands of the Puritans, who plundered it for the second time, expelled the bishop and the dean, and replaced the latter by an Independent tinker. The. false taste of the 18th century was the next disaster which Winchester had to encounter; but this she survived, and all traces of the Grecian taste of that period are now removed. In i860 the west front was repaired, and in 1875 a new choir- screen was built in memory of Bishop Wilberforce; and thus the architectural activity of 800 years— sometimes prudent, but too often misplaced—was brought to an end. From the sketch it will be seen that Winchester Cathedral has been robbed of a good deal of the Norman character which once belonged to it. Yet much still remains. Its plan has in the main been unaltered; and though its nave shows too clearly the baleful influence of such ignorant prelates as Edington and Wykeham, its transepts are among the noblest specimens of Norman architecture that have come down to us, and by a rare good fortune they have scarcely been touched since they were completed in 1073 by Bishop Walkel)-n. Rochester is one of the ancient dioceses of England. It was con- i\OCl)fStrr. stituted by St. Augustine in 604, and Justus was its first bishop. A Saxon church was built on the site of the present cathedral in very early times, but it was destroyed by the invading Danes, and was allowed to remain a ruin until the time of Bishop Gundulf (1077—1107). This prelate was, in many respects, a remarkable man. Before his consecration as Bishop of Rochester, he had been a monk of the Abbey of Bee, near Rouen. He was no less famed for his skill in architecture than for his consistent piety. As a military architect he was especially noteworthy, and the Tower of London owes much to his energy and intelligence. He is also reported to have built the Keep of Rochester Castle, which to this day faces the cathedral. This, however, is a matter of much doubt, as its style belongs to a considerably later date. It is, at any rate, certain that Rochester Cathedral was designed, and a great part of it built, by its first Norman bishop. The powerful Lanfranc encouraged him in his work, and aided him with considerable grants of money. In some respects the plan of the church differed from the orthodox Norman pattern. For instance, its east end, which, by the way, was abnormally long, was square instead of circular. No central tower stood above its crossing, nor did the usual two towers flank its west end. But, as if to make up for this departure from the generally accepted plan, Gundulf built a massive tower in the angle between the north transept and choir. The lower part of this “ campanile,” which served, not only as a bell-tower, but, in case of need, as a fortress, is still to be seen. For the rest, Gundulfs work is chiefly to be observed in the western portion of the undercroft or crypt, and in the nave aisles. The rest of the nave, though of distinctly Norman character, is somewhat later in date. In 1107 Gundulf was gathered to his fathers, and during the episcopate of Ralph, his successor, the building of the cathedral progressed but little. In 1114, however, the last- named prelate became archbishop, and Ernulf, who had served his architectural apprenticeship at Canterbury, succeeded him at Rochester. Under Bishops Ernulf and John, the latter of whom was appointed to the see in 1125, the work was actively carried on, and in 1130 the church was solemnly dedicated in the presence of Henry I., and many ecclesiastical dignitaries. It is to these later Norman builders that the greater part of the existing nave may be attributed. In 1137, serious damage was done to the church by a disastrous fire. A catastrophe of a like nature, but more terrible in its consequences, occurred in 1179. No time was lost in beginning the repairs thus rendered necessary. Gilbert de Granville, however, who was enthroned as bishop in 1185, did not display very great activity in the work. He was, throughout his episcopate engaged in a quarrel with the monks of the convent, and at his death the east end of the cathedral was still unrestored. In 1201 a pious baker of Perth, William by name, whose custom it was to give every tenth loaf to the poor, set out on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. His intention was to visit Canterbury on the way, but he had scarcely reached Rochester when he was foully murdered. His body was brought to Rochester Cathedral, a shrine erected to his honour, and in 1256 he was canonised as a saint. This event, apparently trivial, brought good fortune to Rochester. Thousands of pilgrims visited William’s shrine, and with their offerings William de Hoo, the sacrist, built the eastern portion of the church. The choir was entered by the monks in 1227. In the early part of the 13th century, too, the north and south transepts were built, the former by Richard de Estgate, the latter by Richard de Waldene, both sacrists. In 1240 the cathedral was formally recon¬ secrated by Bishop de Wendover. When Simon de Montfort besieged Rochester, he stabled his troops in the cathedral. Happily the soldiers, though they wantonly destroyed a good deal, were not filled with iconoclastic zeal, and for a time the stained glass of the windows was spared. In 1274 Walter de Merton was appointed Bishop of Rochester. This prelate, it is true, contributed nothing to the architectural glory of his church, but his fame claims for him a passing notice. He was the founder of Merton College, Oxford, the first insti¬ tution which was established merely for the purposes of secular study. So far from being a religious foundation, it was enacted in its statutes that any member who became a monk should at once lose his fellowship. i6 Haymo de Hythe (1319—1352) was the last great benefactor of Rochester Cathedral before the Refor¬ mation. He spent large sums on the repair of the church. The central tower was considerably raised Altar 3creerv ; Herejord Cathedral by him, and fitted with four bells, to which he gave the names of Dunstan, Paulinus, Ithamar, and Lan- franc. The door of the chapter-house, which is Decorated in style and of exquisite workmanship, may probably be ascribed to him. The two easternmost bays of the nave also belong to the Decorated period, but are rather earlier in date than Haymo de Hythe. The most celebrated Bishop of Rochester in the 16th century was, undoubtedly, John Fisher, the opponent of Henry VIII. and the Reformation. In 1535 lie was punished for his staunch adherence to the old and revered forms of his church by losing his head on Tower Hill. But when the Reformation came, the Priory at Rochester quietly surrendered, and the last prior was appointed the first dean under the new charter. The cathedral itself suffered a good deal. Many of its monuments were defaced, and its stained glass was destroyed. Nor did it escape the fury of the Puritans. In that dread year, 1643, th e followers of Cromwell quartered themselves within the cathedral walls, and on their departure the nave was used as a saw-pit. On the return of Charles II. a large sum of money was spent on Rochester Cathe¬ dral, the north wall of the nave being rebuilt in 1670. In the 18th centwy, fortunately no doubt, few alter¬ ations were carried out. Fresh stalls were placed in the choir by Sloane. who also rebuilt the central tower. In 1825—1830 Cottingham undertook the restoration of the church ; but his action will hardly meet with approval now. The central tower, as we see it to-day, is his work, and is not wholly satisfactory. He also rebuilt the Perpendicular west window. The principal part of Sir Gilbert Scott’s handiwork at Rochester Cathedral is to be seen in the east end, which he restored from the Perpendicular to its original Lancet style. With the opening of the choir in 1875, the story of Rochester Cathedral for the present ends. Taking a general glance at it, we have no diffi¬ culty in finding in it a good many points of interest. Its ground plan forms a double cross, which is in itself somewhat unusual. Its nave is an admirable specimen of the Norman style, while the Early English of its choir and transepts deserves a close study. Its exterior is, perhaps, scarcely so satisfactory, yet the charm of its west end cannot be denied. It is true that the insertion of a Perpendicular window has gone far to spoil it, but the beauty of the doorway is still left to us. The latter dates from the reign of Henry II., and is said by Mr. Fergusson to be Con¬ tinental in style, and perhaps the work of a French architect. Rochester, too, is fortunate in its situation. The quiet atmosphere of the old Kentish town is singularly in keeping with the traditions of an old cathedral church. The great Church which stands upon the bank of the Wye, and contains the throne of the Bishop of Hereford, suggests many a sad reflection to us. Though it is one of the oldest foundations in England, pitiless destruction and wanton restoration have obscured almost all traces of its ancient origin. If from the open space on the north side of the building we glance up at its massive central tower and the clerestory of the nave, we find it difficult to realise that we are standing beneath a cathedral which dates back more than 800 years. In the interior, it is true, we do catch a glimpse of the handiwork of the old Normans, but it is only enough to make us regret the more the depredations of time and ignorance. The bishopric of Hereford is one of the oldest in England. Tradition says it was established in the time of the British Church in the 6th century. Whether this is true or not, it is at least certain that the succession of bishops has been unbroken from the time of Putt a, who was appointed to the see in 676, to the present day. Several churches were built at Hereford before the nth century. King Ethelbert having been slain in the neighbourhood, and many miracles having been wrought at his tomb, a cathedral was founded in his memory in 830. Two hundred years later this edifice was rebuilt by Bishop Athelstan, only to be destroyed in 1056 by the Welsh. It is with the arrival of the first Norman bishop that the history of the present church really begins. In 1079 Robert Losinga, a relative of the builder of Norwich Cathedral, of whom we shall have something to say presently, was appointed to the see of Here¬ ford. He immediately set himself to build a church on the model of Charlemagne’s cathedral at Aix-la- Chapelle. It was severely Norman in style, and in the form of a Latin Cross, its east end terminating in an apse. Though not finished in the time of Losinga himself, it was far enough advanced in mo, in the episcopate of Reinhelm, to be dedicated, with ‘7 due pomp and solemnity, to the Blessed Virgin and St. Ethelbert. For some years it was allowed to remain unaltered. Gilbert Foliot, the most energetic Bishop of Hereford in the 12th century, was too much occupied with affairs of state to undertake any archi¬ tectural enterprise. This worthy prelate opposed with might and main the aggrandisement of Thomas a Becket. When the latter was raised to the see of Canterbury, Foliot congratulated the king on working a miracle; “ you have converted," said he, “ a layman to an ecclesiastic." But more peaceful days returned, and then began the work of pulling down and building up, which has been going on ever since. The first addition to the cathedral was made in 1186 by Bishop de Vere, to whom we owe the retro- choir. At the beginning of the 13th century the Lady Chapel and the crypt were built. Fifty years later a period of extraordinary activity set in. In 1240 Peter de Acquablanca was appointed to the see of Hereford. This bishop was one of the foreign favourites of Henry III., whose exactions and injus¬ tice were the cause of the rising of the barons under Simon de Montfort. He was apparently an utterly unscrupulous man ; but he had an interest in archi¬ tecture, and planned several alterations in his cathe¬ dral. It is uncertain, however, whether he carried any of them to completion. He probably built the clerestory of the choir, and began the reconstruction of the north transept. His memory will ever be kept green by the wonderful tomb which was erected in his honour in 1268. It is exquisite in style, and belongs to the Early English period. The bishop lies habited in his vestments beneath a finely-executed canopy. The delicacy of its bar-tracery gives it a lightness and beauty which we find in few other monuments. The work which Acquablanca began was carried on by Bishop Cantilupe (1275—12S2). The latter, besides finishing the north transept, built a portion of the north porch, the chapter-house, and the south¬ east cloister. Throughout his career he displayed both independence of spirit and firmness of purpose. Having opposed the archbishop, he was excommuni¬ cated by the Pope, but received absolution just before his death in 1282. He Avas buried in his own cathe¬ dral, and we are told that 425 miracles were performed at his shrine. In consequence of these manifesta¬ tions, he was canonised as a saint in 1320, and he has since been known as St. Thomas of Hereford. His tomb now stands in the north transept, which he himself built, and is ornate Early English in style. It is curious to note that he was the last Englishman canonised before the Reformation. To Bishop Swin- field, Cantilupe’s successor, may be ascribed with tolerable certainty the eastern transept, the commence¬ ment of the north porch and the aisles of the nave, as well as the central tower. The great west front, which was originally Soft, broad, and was sur¬ mounted by a steeple 130 ft. high, was built about 1350. To the 15th century belong Bishop Audley’s octagonal chapel on the south side of the cathedral and Stanbury’s chantry. About the same period an important structural alteration was carried out in the west front. A large Perpendicular window was sub¬ stituted for the three windows which were then in existence. This reckless piece of rebuilding led to a serious disaster, to which we shall presently refer. The edifice was finally completed in 1520, when the last stone was put to the Perpendicular porch on the north side of the church. With this ends the story of the cathedral’s growth. Almost a century of in¬ action, perhaps of neglect, intervened before its decline began. The Reformation did not touch Hereford very nearly, as it was the centre of no great monastic house. But the Puritans by no means passed lightly over the old western city. The chapter-house attached to the cathedral was destroyed by Cromwell’s soldiers; while in 1645 seventy-five memorial brasses were torn up and sold for a paltry sum. During the next hundred }'ears the church seems to have been allowed to fall gradually into ruin. In 1786 the crash came. On Easter Monday in that year the great west front, which, as we have seen, had been materially weakened by the insertion of a Perpendicular window in the reign of Henry VI., fell heavily to the ground, involving in its own ruin four complete bays of the nave. Another terrible calamity befell the cathedral two years later. The work of repairing the damage done by the collapse of the west end was entrusted to the hands of Wyatt. Whatever this ill-omened architect touched, he never failed to deface. At Hereford he shortened the nave by one whole bay, restored the west front in the meanest style, and rebuilt the clerestory of the nave. He also effected many changes in the interior of the church. For instance, he so heedlessly moved from their places the sepulchral monuments in which Hereford Cathedral is particularly rich, that it was afterwards a work ol no little labour to identify them. In 1841 destruction again threatened the church, but this time it was happily averted. Dean Mere- wether, who was devoted to the interests of his cathedral, discovered that the four great arches of the central tower were no longer safe. Cottingham, the architect, removed all the additions which had been made to them from time to time, the cause of their insecurity. He also took away the oaken screen, which then closed the east of the choir, as well as the large window above it. A very fine Norman arch, a remnant, no doubt, of Robert Losinga’s work, was then brought to light. Many other distinct improve¬ ments are due to the care and intelligence of Cottingham ; but the most important restoration was commenced in 1856. Sir Gilbert Scott in that year undertook the thorough repair of Hereford Cathedral, and his work was not finished until twenty years later. He proceeded with the utmost caution, and used old materials wherever possible. His object throughout was not to introduce any new element into the building, but only to bring it back to what it was before accident and Wyatt had done their worst upon it. How far he has succeeded a visit to Here-