Sand box 53946130493_c398e65961_b
Cathedral and Metropolitical Church of Christ, Canterbury Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
The long, dark and empty days of COVID are behind us, and although the streets were not packed, there were groups following guides, and it felt normal.
The reason for being here was the first ever public opening of the Corona Tower and then the chance to climb the 87 steps to the roof, for panoramic views of the city and surrounding downs.
Just one tour a day, with limited numbers, so I wanted to make sure my name was on the list. I got to the cathedral at five past ten, and was indeed the first name on the list, though a decision on whether the rooftop visit would go ahead depended on the winds dropping.
I went round the cathedral one more time, rattling of a couple of hundred shots, going down the crypt and around the Apse.
A short walk away is St Paul Without, which was open. So I went in to take some shots, I think I was there a couple of years back and was recognised in the guise of my Facebook avatar and name.
At midday, or just past, I was at the door of the Thomas Backet pub for a swifter. The landlord's two dogs made me feel very welcome.
The sun had got out and was warm outside, so I stayed inside for a second beer, and then they put their new house ale on, Troublesome Priest, named after the curse of King John of Thomas Becket. Its a dark best bitter, and very drinkable.
Three pints in, I thought I had better stop and go to meet up with Jools. The cathedral called to let me know the tour was on, so all was good.
I booked a table at a BBQ place for later, bought Jools a cider as she was parched, whereas I was well hydrated.
At quarter to three, I walked back to the cathedral, and was entertained by a choir while I waited. Their voices filled the huge space of the Nave, spinetingling stuff.
At half three, I met the guide at the lectern in the Quire, five others joined in to. So, after introductions, we walked to the Chapel at the very east of the Cathedral.
The public can look in the chapel, but have never been allowed inside, so this was a rare chance.
We swapped stories and news, me pointing out that the guide should really go to Nackington to see the ancient glass there, glass that gives the cathedral a good run for its money with the oldest stained glass in the country.
Then, time to climb to to roof of the chapel. An ancient door was unlocked, and beyond, medieval steps, unworn by many feet, so looking almost new, lead up and round.
Two glass doors look out onto the Quire, but are left dirty so people don't linger on the stairs to look. So, up and up, round and round, until the steps straighten up and with one last double-height step, we were out on the roof.
Not the very top of the cathedral: the roof of the Chancel rose to the west, and the central tower behind that, and in the distance, the two western tower just showed.
We look down on the city: a party in the grounds of the posh school nearby, the hustle of the streets and shops, and beyond, ground rose on all sides to the north Downs.
For half an hour we lingered and soaked the warm in.
Time ran out, so back down. With the first huge step a doosie, but once over that, just round and round, down and down until we were back in the Chancel, with the last visitors of the day looking in surprise as we emerged from the cathedral walls.
Jools was in the Thomas Becket, as was my colleague Peter. They were two beers up on me. Or Peter was. Jools would be driving, so she had the one cider.
The pub is city centre, but down a side street, so is good, but quieter than it might otherwise be. And their beer is good, which helps, and the food, if you eat there, very good indeed.
We talk for an hour, then walk to the smokehouse, which turned out not to be a smokehouse, but a fast food place, opposite the grand entrance to King's School. They di platters for us, and was pretty good, and not too pricey either.
Then back to the Thomas Becket for "one last beer", and more chatting.
Jools lead me to the car, as my health app ticked over 18,000 steps. I was pooped and ready to go home for a cuppa before bed.
The city was just waking up, as bright and beautiful young things tumbled out of cars for a night in the clubs and bars, just beginning their fun just as we were finishing up.
Out through Windcheap and onto the A2, a cruise in the gloaming back to Dover.
Needless to say, the cats were very pleased/annoyed to see us just after nine. So we fed them, fussed over them. Jools made a brew and I checked my shots, charged the battery ready for Saturday and another fine day out planned.
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History of the cathedral
THE ORIGIN of a Christian church on the scite of the present cathedral, is supposed to have taken place as early as the Roman empire in Britain, for the use of the antient faithful and believing soldiers of their garrison here; and that Augustine found such a one standing here, adjoining to king Ethelbert's palace, which was included in the king's gift to him.
This supposition is founded on the records of the priory of Christ-church, (fn. 1) concurring with the common opinion of almost all our historians, who tell us of a church in Canterbury, which Augustine found standing in the east part of the city, which he had of king Ethelbert's gift, which after his consecration at Arles, in France, he commended by special dedication to the patronage of our blessed Saviour. (fn. 2)
According to others, the foundations only of an old church formerly built by the believing Romans, were left here, on which Augustine erected that, which he afterwards dedicated to out Saviour; (fn. 3) and indeed it is not probable that king Ethelbert should have suffered the unsightly ruins of a Christian church, which, being a Pagan, must have been very obnoxious to him, so close to his palace, and supposing these ruins had been here, would he not have suffered them to be repaired, rather than have obliged his Christian queen to travel daily to such a distance as St. Martin's church, or St. Pancrace's chapel, for the performance of her devotions.
Some indeed have conjectured that the church found by St. Augustine, in the east part of the city, was that of St.Martin, truly so situated; and urge in favor of it, that there have not been at any time any remains of British or Roman bricks discovered scattered in or about this church of our Saviour, those infallible, as Mr. Somner stiles them, signs of antiquity, and so generally found in buildings, which have been erected on, or close to the spot where more antient ones have stood. But to proceed, king Ethelbert's donation to Augustine was made in the year 596, who immediately afterwards went over to France, and was consecrated a bishop at Arles, and after his return, as soon as he had sufficiently finished a church here, whether built out of ruins or anew, it matters not, he exercised his episcopal function in the dedication of it, says the register of Christ-church, to the honor of Christ our Saviour; whence it afterwards obtained the name of Christ-church. (fn. 4)
From the time of Augustine for the space of upwards of three hundred years, there is not found in any printed or manuscript chronicle, the least mention of the fabric of this church, so that it is probable nothing befell it worthy of being recorded; however it should be mentioned, that during that period the revenues of it were much increased, for in the leiger books of it there are registered more than fifty donations of manors, lands, &c. so large and bountiful, as became the munificence of kings and nobles to confer. (fn. 5)
It is supposed, especially as we find no mention made of any thing to the contrary, that the fabric of this church for two hundred years after Augustine's time, met with no considerable molestations; but afterwards, the frequent invasions of the Danes involved both the civil and ecclesiastical state of this country in continual troubles and dangers; in the confusion of which, this church appears to have run into a state of decay; for when Odo was promoted to the archbishopric, in the year 938, the roof of it was in a ruinous condition; age had impaired it, and neglect had made it extremely dangerous; the walls of it were of an uneven height, according as it had been more or less decayed, and the roof of the church seemed ready to fall down on the heads of those underneath. All this the archbishop undertook to repair, and then covered the whole church with lead; to finish which, it took three years, as Osbern tells us, in the life of Odo; (fn. 6) and further, that there was not to be found a church of so large a size, capable of containing so great a multitude of people, and thus, perhaps, it continued without any material change happening to it, till the year 1011; a dismal and fatal year to this church and city; a time of unspeakable confusion and calamities; for in the month of September that year, the Danes, after a siege of twenty days, entered this city by force, burnt the houses, made a lamentable slaughter of the inhabitants, rifled this church, and then set it on fire, insomuch, that the lead with which archbishop Odo had covered it, being melted, ran down on those who were underneath. The sull story of this calamity is given by Osbern, in the life of archbishop Odo, an abridgement of which the reader will find below. (fn. 7)
The church now lay in ruins, without a roof, the bare walls only standing, and in this desolate condition it remained as long as the fury of the Danes prevailed, who after they had burnt the church, carried away archbishop Alphage with them, kept him in prison seven months, and then put him to death, in the year 1012, the year after which Living, or Livingus, succeeded him as archbishop, though it was rather in his calamities than in his seat of dignity, for he too was chained up by the Danes in a loathsome dungeon for seven months, before he was set free, but he so sensibly felt the deplorable state of this country, which he foresaw was every day growing worse and worse, that by a voluntary exile, he withdrew himself out of the nation, to find some solitary retirement, where he might bewail those desolations of his country, to which he was not able to bring any relief, but by his continual prayers. (fn. 8) He just outlived this storm, returned into England, and before he died saw peace and quientness restored to this land by king Canute, who gaining to himself the sole sovereignty over the nation, made it his first business to repair the injuries which had been done to the churches and monasteries in this kingdom, by his father's and his own wars. (fn. 9)
As for this church, archbishop Ægelnoth, who presided over it from the year 1020 to the year 1038, began and finished the repair, or rather the rebuilding of it, assisted in it by the royal munificence of the king, (fn. 10) who in 1023 presented his crown of gold to this church, and restored to it the port of Sandwich, with its liberties. (fn. 11) Notwithstanding this, in less than forty years afterwards, when Lanfranc soon after the Norman conquest came to the see, he found this church reduced almost to nothing by fire, and dilapidations; for Eadmer says, it had been consumed by a third conflagration, prior to the year of his advancement to it, in which fire almost all the antient records of the privileges of it had perished. (fn. 12)
The same writer has given us a description of this old church, as it was before Lanfranc came to the see; by which we learn, that at the east end there was an altar adjoining to the wall of the church, of rough unhewn stone, cemented with mortar, erected by archbishop Odo, for a repository of the body of Wilfrid, archbishop of York, which Odo had translated from Rippon hither, giving it here the highest place; at a convenient distance from this, westward, there was another altar, dedicated to Christ our Saviour, at which divine service was daily celebrated. In this altar was inclosed the head of St. Swithin, with many other relics, which archbishop Alphage brought with him from Winchester. Passing from this altar westward, many steps led down to the choir and nave, which were both even, or upon the same level. At the bottom of the steps, there was a passage into the undercroft, under all the east part of the church. (fn. 13) At the east end of which, was an altar, in which was inclosed, according to old tradition, the head of St. Furseus. From hence by a winding passage, at the west end of it, was the tomb of St. Dunstan, (fn. 14) but separated from the undercroft by a strong stone wall; over the tomb was erected a monument, pyramid wife, and at the head of it an altar, (fn. 15) for the mattin service. Between these steps, or passage into the undercroft and the nave, was the choir, (fn. 16) which was separated from the nave by a fair and decent partition, to keep off the crowds of people that usually were in the body of the church, so that the singing of the chanters in the choir might not be disturbed. About the middle of the length of the nave, were two towers or steeples, built without the walls; one on the south, and the other on the north side. In the former was the altar of St. Gregory, where was an entrance into the church by the south door, and where law controversies and pleas concerning secular matters were exercised. (fn. 17) In the latter, or north tower, was a passage for the monks into the church, from the monastery; here were the cloysters, where the novices were instructed in their religious rules and offices, and where the monks conversed together. In this tower was the altar of St. Martin. At the west end of the church was a chapel, dedicated to the blessed Virgin Mary, to which there was an ascent by steps, and at the east end of it an altar, dedicated to her, in which was inclosed the head of St. Astroburta the Virgin; and at the western part of it was the archbishop's pontifical chair, made of large stones, compacted together with mortar; a fair piece of work, and placed at a convenient distance from the altar, close to the wall of the church. (fn. 18)
To return now to archbishop Lanfranc, who was sent for from Normandy in 1073, being the fourth year of the Conqueror's reign, to fill this see, a time, when a man of a noble spirit, equal to the laborious task he was to undertake, was wanting especially for this church; and that he was such, the several great works which were performed by him, were incontestable proofs, as well as of his great and generous mind. At the first sight of the ruinous condition of this church, says the historian, the archbishop was struck with astonishment, and almost despaired of seeing that and the monastery re edified; but his care and perseverance raised both in all its parts anew, and that in a novel and more magnificent kind and form of structure, than had been hardly in any place before made use of in this kingdom, which made it a precedent and pattern to succeeding structures of this kind; (fn. 19) and new monasteries and churches were built after the example of it; for it should be observed, that before the coming of the Normans most of the churches and monasteries in this kingdom were of wood; (all the monasteries in my realm, says king Edgar, in his charter to the abbey of Malmesbury, dated anno 974, to the outward sight are nothing but worm-eaten and rotten timber and boards) but after the Norman conquest, such timber fabrics grew out of use, and gave place to stone buildings raised upon arches; a form of structure introduced into general use by that nation, and in these parts surnished with stone from Caen, in Normandy. (fn. 20) After this fashion archbishop Lanfranc rebuilt the whole church from the foundation, with the palace and monastery, the wall which encompassed the court, and all the offices belonging to the monastery within the wall, finishing the whole nearly within the compass of seven years; (fn. 21) besides which, he furnished the church with ornaments and rich vestments; after which, the whole being perfected, he altered the name of it, by a dedication of it to the Holy Trinity; whereas, before it was called the church of our Saviour, or Christ-church, and from the above time it bore (as by Domesday book appears) the name of the church of the Holy Trinity; this new church being built on the same spot on which the antient one stood, though on a far different model.
After Lanfranc's death, archbishop Anselm succeeded in the year 1093, to the see of Canterbury, and must be esteemed a principal benefactor to this church; for though his time was perplexed with a continued series of troubles, of which both banishment and poverty made no small part, which in a great measure prevented him from bestowing that cost on his church, which he would otherwise have done, yet it was through his patronage and protection, and through his care and persuasions, that the fabric of it, begun and perfected by his predecessor, became enlarged and rose to still greater splendor. (fn. 22)
In order to carry this forward, upon the vacancy of the priory, he constituted Ernulph and Conrad, the first in 1104, the latter in 1108, priors of this church; to whose care, being men of generous and noble minds, and of singular skill in these matters, he, during his troubles, not only committed the management of this work, but of all his other concerns during his absence.
Probably archbishop Anselm, on being recalled from banishment on king Henry's accession to the throne, had pulled down that part of the church built by Lanfranc, from the great tower in the middle of it to the east end, intending to rebuild it upon a still larger and more magnificent plan; when being borne down by the king's displeasure, he intrusted prior Ernulph with the work, who raised up the building with such splendor, says Malmesbury, that the like was not to be seen in all England; (fn. 23) but the short time Ernulph continued in this office did not permit him to see his undertaking finished. (fn. 24) This was left to his successor Conrad, who, as the obituary of Christ church informs us, by his great industry, magnificently perfected the choir, which his predecessor had left unfinished, (fn. 25) adorning it with curious pictures, and enriching it with many precious ornaments. (fn. 26)
This great undertaking was not entirely compleated at the death of archbishop Anselm, which happened in 1109, anno 9 Henry I. nor indeed for the space of five years afterwards, during which the see of Canterbury continued vacant; when being finished, in honour of its builder, and on account of its more than ordinary beauty, it gained the name of the glorious choir of Conrad. (fn. 27)
After the see of Canterbury had continued thus vacant for five years, Ralph, or as some call him, Rodulph, bishop of Rochester, was translated to it in the year 1114, at whose coming to it, the church was dedicated anew to the Holy Trinity, the name which had been before given to it by Lanfranc. (fn. 28) The only particular description we have of this church when thus finished, is from Gervas, the monk of this monastery, and that proves imperfect, as to the choir of Lanfranc, which had been taken down soon after his death; (fn. 29) the following is his account of the nave, or western part of it below the choir, being that which had been erected by archbishop Lanfranc, as has been before mentioned. From him we learn, that the west end, where the chapel of the Virgin Mary stood before, was now adorned with two stately towers, on the top of which were gilded pinnacles. The nave or body was supported by eight pair of pillars. At the east end of the nave, on the north side, was an oratory, dedicated in honor to the blessed Virgin, in lieu, I suppose, of the chapel, that had in the former church been dedicated to her at the west end. Between the nave and the choir there was built a great tower or steeple, as it were in the centre of the whole fabric; (fn. 30) under this tower was erected the altar of the Holy Cross; over a partition, which separated this tower from the nave, a beam was laid across from one side to the other of the church; upon the middle of this beam was fixed a great cross, between the images of the Virgin Mary and St. John, and between two cherubims. The pinnacle on the top of this tower, was a gilded cherub, and hence it was called the angel steeple; a name it is frequently called by at this day. (fn. 31)
This great tower had on each side a cross isle, called the north and south wings, which were uniform, of the same model and dimensions; each of them had a strong pillar in the middle for a support to the roof, and each of them had two doors or passages, by which an entrance was open to the east parts of the church. At one of these doors there was a descent by a few steps into the undercroft; at the other, there was an ascent by many steps into the upper parts of the church, that is, the choir, and the isles on each side of it. Near every one of these doors or passages, an altar was erected; at the upper door in the south wing, there was an altar in honour of All Saints; and at the lower door there was one of St. Michael; and before this altar on the south side was buried archbishop Fleologild; and on the north side, the holy Virgin Siburgis, whom St. Dunstan highly admired for her sanctity. In the north isle, by the upper door, was the altar of St. Blaze; and by the lower door, that of St. Benedict. In this wing had been interred four archbishops, Adelm and Ceolnoth, behind the altar, and Egelnoth and Wlfelm before it. At the entrance into this wing, Rodulph and his successor William Corboil, both archbishops, were buried. (fn. 32)
Hence, he continues, we go up by some steps into the great tower, and before us there is a door and steps leading down into the south wing, and on the right hand a pair of folding doors, with stairs going down into the nave of the church; but without turning to any of these, let us ascend eastward, till by several more steps we come to the west end of Conrad's choir; being now at the entrance of the choir, Gervas tells us, that he neither saw the choir built by Lanfranc, nor found it described by any one; that Eadmer had made mention of it, without giving any account of it, as he had done of the old church, the reason of which appears to be, that Lanfranc's choir did not long survive its founder, being pulled down as before-mentioned, by archbishop Anselm; so that it could not stand more than twenty years; therefore the want of a particular description of it will appear no great defect in the history of this church, especially as the deficiency is here supplied by Gervas's full relation of the new choir of Conrad, built instead of it; of which, whoever desires to know the whole architecture and model observed in the fabric, the order, number, height and form of the pillars and windows, may know the whole of it from him. The roof of it, he tells us, (fn. 33) was beautified with curious paintings representing heaven; (fn. 34) in several respects it was agreeable to the present choir, the stalls were large and framed of carved wood. In the middle of it, there hung a gilded crown, on which were placed four and twenty tapers of wax. From the choir an ascent of three steps led to the presbiterium, or place for the presbiters; here, he says, it would be proper to stop a little and take notice of the high altar, which was dedicated to the name of CHRIST. It was placed between two other altars, the one of St. Dunstan, the other of St. Alphage; at the east corners of the high altar were fixed two pillars of wood, beautified with silver and gold; upon these pillars was placed a beam, adorned with gold, which reached across the church, upon it there were placed the glory, (fn. 35) the images of St. Dunstan and St. Alphage, and seven chests or coffers overlaid with gold, full of the relics of many saints. Between those pillars was a cross gilded all over, and upon the upper beam of the cross were set sixty bright crystals.
Beyond this, by an ascent of eight steps towards the east, behind the altar, was the archiepiscopal throne, which Gervas calls the patriarchal chair, made of one stone; in this chair, according to the custom of the church, the archbishop used to sit, upon principal festivals, in his pontifical ornaments, whilst the solemn offices of religion were celebrated, until the consecration of the host, when he came down to the high altar, and there performed the solemnity of consecration. Still further, eastward, behind the patriarchal chair, (fn. 36) was a chapel in the front of the whole church, in which was an altar, dedicated to the Holy Trinity; behind which were laid the bones of two archbishops, Odo of Canterbury, and Wilfrid of York; by this chapel on the south side near the wall of the church, was laid the body of archbishop Lanfranc, and on the north side, the body of archbishop Theobald. Here it is to be observed, that under the whole east part of the church, from the angel steeple, there was an undercrost or crypt, (fn. 37) in which were several altars, chapels and sepulchres; under the chapel of the Trinity before-mentioned, were two altars, on the south side, the altar of St. Augustine, the apostle of the English nation, by which archbishop Athelred was interred. On the north side was the altar of St. John Baptist, by which was laid the body of archbishop Eadsin; under the high altar was the chapel and altar of the blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the whole undercroft was dedicated.
To return now, he continues, to the place where the bresbyterium and choir meet, where on each side there was a cross isle (as was to be seen in his time) which might be called the upper south and north wings; on the east side of each of these wings were two half circular recesses or nooks in the wall, arched over after the form of porticoes. Each of them had an altar, and there was the like number of altars under them in the crost. In the north wing, the north portico had the altar of St. Martin, by which were interred the bodies of two archbishops, Wlfred on the right, and Living on the left hand; under it in the croft, was the altar of St. Mary Magdalen. The other portico in this wing, had the altar of St. Stephen, and by it were buried two archbishops, Athelard on the left hand, and Cuthbert on the right; in the croft under it, was the altar of St. Nicholas. In the south wing, the north portico had the altar of St. John the Evangelist, and by it the bodies of Æthelgar and Aluric, archbishops, were laid. In the croft under it was the altar of St. Paulinus, by which the body of archbishop Siricius was interred. In the south portico was the altar of St. Gregory, by which were laid the corps of the two archbishops Bregwin and Plegmund. In the croft under it was the altar of St. Owen, archbishop of Roan, and underneath in the croft, not far from it the altar of St. Catherine.
Passing from these cross isles eastward there were two towers, one on the north, the other on the south side of the church. In the tower on the north side was the altar of St. Andrew, which gave name to the tower; under it, in the croft, was the altar of the Holy Innocents; the tower on the south side had the altar of St. Peter and St. Paul, behind which the body of St. Anselm was interred, which afterwards gave name both to the altar and tower (fn. 38) (now called St. Anselm's). The wings or isles on each side of the choir had nothing in particular to be taken notice of.— Thus far Gervas, from whose description we in particular learn, where several of the bodies of the old archbishops were deposited, and probably the ashes of some of them remain in the same places to this day.
As this building, deservedly called the glorious choir of Conrad, was a magnificent work, so the undertaking of it at that time will appear almost beyond example, especially when the several circumstances of it are considered; but that it was carried forward at the archbishop's cost, exceeds all belief. It was in the discouraging reign of king William Rufus, a prince notorious in the records of history, for all manner of sacrilegious rapine, that archbishop Anselm was promoted to this see; when he found the lands and revenues of this church so miserably wasted and spoiled, that there was hardly enough left for his bare subsistence; who, in the first years that he sat in the archiepiscopal chair, struggled with poverty, wants and continual vexations through the king's displeasure, (fn. 39) and whose three next years were spent in banishment, during all which time he borrowed money for his present maintenance; who being called home by king Henry I. at his coming to the crown, laboured to pay the debts he had contracted during the time of his banishment, and instead of enjoying that tranquility and ease he hoped for, was, within two years afterwards, again sent into banishment upon a fresh displeasure conceived against him by the king, who then seized upon all the revenues of the archbishopric, (fn. 40) which he retained in his own hands for no less than four years.
Under these hard circumstances, it would have been surprizing indeed, that the archbishop should have been able to carry on so great a work, and yet we are told it, as a truth, by the testimonies of history; but this must surely be understood with the interpretation of his having been the patron, protector and encourager, rather than the builder of this work, which he entrusted to the care and management of the priors Ernulph and Conrad, and sanctioned their employing, as Lanfranc had done before, the revenues and stock of the church to this use. (fn. 41)
In this state as above-mentioned, without any thing material happening to it, this church continued till about the year 1130, anno 30 Henry I. when it seems to have suffered some damage by a fire; (fn. 42) but how much, there is no record left to inform us; however it could not be of any great account, for it was sufficiently repaired, and that mostly at the cost of archbishop Corboil, who then sat in the chair of this see, (fn. 43) before the 4th of May that year, on which day, being Rogation Sunday, the bishops performed the dedication of it with great splendor and magnificence, such, says Gervas, col. 1664, as had not been heard of since the dedication of the temple of Solomon; the king, the queen, David, king of Scots, all the archbishops, and the nobility of both kingdoms being present at it, when this church's former name was restored again, being henceforward commonly called Christ-church. (fn. 44)
Among the manuscripts of Trinity college library, in Cambridge, in a very curious triple psalter of St. Jerome, in Latin, written by the monk Eadwyn, whose picture is at the beginning of it, is a plan or drawing made by him, being an attempt towards a representation of this church and monastery, as they stood between the years 1130 and 1174; which makes it probable, that he was one of the monks of it, and the more so, as the drawing has not any kind of relation to the plalter or sacred hymns contained in the manuscript.
His plan, if so it may be called, for it is neither such, nor an upright, nor a prospect, and yet something of all together; but notwithstanding this rudeness of the draftsman, it shews very plain that it was intended for this church and priory, and gives us a very clear knowledge, more than we have been able to learn from any description we have besides, of what both were at the above period of time. (fn. 45)
Forty-four years after this dedication, on the 5th of September, anno 1174, being the 20th year of king Henry II.'s reign, a fire happened, which consumed great part of this stately edifice, namely, the whole choir, from the angel steeple to the east end of the church, together with the prior's lodgings, the chapel of the Virgin Mary, the infirmary, and some other offices belonging to the monastery; but the angel steeple, the lower cross isles, and the nave appear to have received no material injury from the flames. (fn. 46) The narrative of this accident is told by Gervas, the monk of Canterbury, so often quoted before, who was an eye witness of this calamity, as follows:
Three small houses in the city near the old gate of the monastery took fire by accident, a strong south wind carried the flakes of fire to the top of the church, and lodged them between the joints of the lead, driving them to the timbers under it; this kindled a fire there, which was not discerned till the melted lead gave a free passage for the flames to appear above the church, and the wind gaining by this means a further power of increasing them, drove them inwardly, insomuch that the danger became immediately past all possibility of relief. The timber of the roof being all of it on fire, fell down into the choir, where the stalls of the manks, made of large pieces of carved wood, afforded plenty of fuel to the flames, and great part of the stone work, through the vehement heat of the fire, was so weakened, as to be brought to irreparable ruin, and besides the fabric itself, the many rich ornaments in the church were devoured by the flames.
The choir being thus laid in ashes, the monks removed from amidst the ruins, the bodies of the two saints, whom they called patrons of the church, the archbishops Dunstan and Alphage, and deposited them by the altar of the great cross, in the nave of the church; (fn. 47) and from this time they celebrated the daily religious offices in the oratory of the blessed Virgin Mary in the nave, and continued to do so for more than five years, when the choir being re edified, they returned to it again. (fn. 48)
Upon this destruction of the church, the prior and convent, without any delay, consulted on the most speedy and effectual method of rebuilding it, resolving to finish it in such a manner, as should surpass all the former choirs of it, as well in beauty as size and magnificence. To effect this, they sent for the most skilful architects that could be found either in France or England. These surveyed the walls and pillars, which remained standing, but they found great part of them so weakened by the fire, that they could no ways be built upon with any safety; and it was accordingly resolved, that such of them should be taken down; a whole year was spent in doing this, and in providing materials for the new building, for which they sent abroad for the best stone that could be procured; Gervas has given a large account, (fn. 49) how far this work advanced year by year; what methods and rules of architecture were observed, and other particulars relating to the rebuilding of this church; all which the curious reader may consult at his leisure; it will be sufficient to observe here, that the new building was larger in height and length, and more beautiful in every respect, than the choir of Conrad; for the roof was considerably advanced above what it was before, and was arched over with stone; whereas before it was composed of timber and boards. The capitals of the pillars were now beautified with different sculptures of carvework; whereas, they were before plain, and six pillars more were added than there were before. The former choir had but one triforium, or inner gallery, but now there were two made round it, and one in each side isle and three in the cross isles; before, there were no marble pillars, but such were now added to it in abundance. In forwarding this great work, the monks had spent eight years, when they could proceed no further for want of money; but a fresh supply coming in from the offerings at St. Thomas's tomb, so much more than was necessary for perfecting the repair they were engaged in, as encouraged them to set about a more grand design, which was to pull down the eastern extremity of the church, with the small chapel of the Holy Trinity adjoining to it, and to erect upon a stately undercroft, a most magnificent one instead of it, equally lofty with the roof of the church, and making a part of it, which the former one did not, except by a door into it; but this new chapel, which was dedicated likewise to the Holy Trinity, was not finished till some time after the rest of the church; at the east end of this chapel another handsome one, though small, was afterwards erected at the extremity of the whole building, since called Becket's crown, on purpose for an altar and the reception of some part of his relics; (fn. 50) further mention of which will be made hereafter.
The eastern parts of this church, as Mr. Gostling observes, have the appearance of much greater antiquity than what is generally allowed to them; and indeed if we examine the outside walls and the cross wings on each side of the choir, it will appear, that the whole of them was not rebuilt at the time the choir was, and that great part of them was suffered to remain, though altered, added to, and adapted as far as could be, to the new building erected at that time; the traces of several circular windows and other openings, which were then stopped up, removed, or altered, still appearing on the walls both of the isles and the cross wings, through the white-wash with which they are covered; and on the south side of the south isle, the vaulting of the roof as well as the triforium, which could not be contrived so as to be adjusted to the places of the upper windows, plainly shew it. To which may be added, that the base or foot of one of the westernmost large pillars of the choir on the north side, is strengthened with a strong iron band round it, by which it should seem to have been one of those pillars which had been weakened by the fire, but was judged of sufficient firmness, with this precaution, to remain for the use of the new fabric.
The outside of this part of the church is a corroborating proof of what has been mentioned above, as well in the method, as in the ornaments of the building.— The outside of it towards the south, from St. Michael's chapel eastward, is adorned with a range of small pillars, about six inches diameter, and about three feet high, some with santastic shasts and capitals, others with plain ones; these support little arches, which intersect each other; and this chain or girdle of pillars is continued round the small tower, the eastern cross isle and the chapel of St. Anselm, to the buildings added in honour of the Holy Trinity, and St. Thomas Becket, where they leave off. The casing of St. Michael's chapel has none of them, but the chapel of the Virgin Mary, answering to it on the north side of the church, not being fitted to the wall, shews some of them behind it; which seems as if they had been continued before, quite round the eastern parts of the church.
These pillars, which rise from about the level of the pavement, within the walls above them, are remarkably plain and bare of ornaments; but the tower above mentioned and its opposite, as soon as they rise clear of the building, are enriched with stories of this colonade, one above another, up to the platform from whence their spires rise; and the remains of the two larger towers eastward, called St. Anselm's, and that answering to it on the north side of the church, called St. Andrew's are decorated much after the same manner, as high as they remain at present.
At the time of the before-mentioned fire, which so fatally destroyed the upper part of this church, the undercrost, with the vaulting over it, seems to have remained entire, and unhurt by it.
The vaulting of the undercrost, on which the floor of the choir and eastern parts of the church is raised, is supported by pillars, whose capitals are as various and fantastical as those of the smaller ones described before, and so are their shafts, some being round, others canted, twisted, or carved, so that hardly any two of them are alike, except such as are quite plain.
These, I suppose, may be concluded to be of the same age, and if buildings in the same stile may be conjectured to be so from thence, the antiquity of this part of the church may be judged, though historians have left us in the dark in relation to it.
In Leland's Collectanea, there is an account and description of a vault under the chancel of the antient church of St. Peter, in Oxford, called Grymbald's crypt, being allowed by all, to have been built by him; (fn. 51) Grymbald was one of those great and accomplished men, whom king Alfred invited into England about the year 885, to assist him in restoring Christianity, learning and the liberal arts. (fn. 52) Those who compare the vaults or undercrost of the church of Canterbury, with the description and prints given of Grymbald's crypt, (fn. 53) will easily perceive, that two buildings could hardly have been erected more strongly resembling each other, except that this at Canterbury is larger, and more pro fusely decorated with variety of fancied ornaments, the shafts of several of the pillars here being twisted, or otherwise varied, and many of the captials exactly in the same grotesque taste as those in Grymbald's crypt. (fn. 54) Hence it may be supposed, that those whom archbishop Lanfranc employed as architects and designers of his building at Canterbury, took their model of it, at least of this part of it, from that crypt, and this undercrost now remaining is the same, as was originally built by him, as far eastward, as to that part which begins under the chapel of the Holy Trinity, where it appears to be of a later date, erected at the same time as the chapel. The part built by Lanfranc continues at this time as firm and entire, as it was at the very building of it, though upwards of seven hundred years old. (fn. 55)
But to return to the new building; though the church was not compleatly finished till the end of the year 1184, yet it was so far advanced towards it, that, in 1180, on April 19, being Easter eve, (fn. 56) the archbishop, prior and monks entered the new choir, with a solemn procession, singing Te Deum, for their happy return to it. Three days before which they had privately, by night, carried the bodies of St. Dunstan and St. Alphage to the places prepared for them near the high altar. The body likewise of queen Edive (which after the fire had been removed from the north cross isle, where it lay before, under a stately gilded shrine) to the altar of the great cross, was taken up, carried into the vestry, and thence to the altar of St. Martin, where it was placed under the coffin of archbishop Livinge. In the month of July following the altar of the Holy Trinity was demolished, and the bodies of those archbishops, which had been laid in that part of the church, were removed to other places. Odo's body was laid under St. Dunstan's and Wilfrid's under St. Alphage's; Lanfranc's was deposited nigh the altar of St. Martin, and Theobald's at that of the blessed Virgin, in the nave of the church, (fn. 57) under a marble tomb; and soon afterwards the two archbishops, on the right and left hand of archbishop Becket in the undercrost, were taken up and placed under the altar of St. Mary there. (fn. 58)
After a warning so terrible, as had lately been given, it seemed most necessary to provide against the danger of fire for the time to come; the flames, which had so lately destroyed a considerable part of the church and monastery, were caused by some small houses, which had taken fire at a small distance from the church.— There still remained some other houses near it, which belonged to the abbot and convent of St. Augustine; for these the monks of Christ-church created, by an exchange, which could not be effected till the king interposed, and by his royal authority, in a manner, compelled the abbot and convent to a composition for this purpose, which was dated in the year 1177, that was three years after the late fire of this church. (fn. 59)
These houses were immediately pulled down, and it proved a providential and an effectual means of preserving the church from the like calamity; for in the year 1180, on May 22, this new choir, being not then compleated, though it had been used the month be fore, as has been already mentioned, there happened a fire in the city, which burnt down many houses, and the flames bent their course towards the church, which was again in great danger; but the houses near it being taken away, the fire was stopped, and the church escaped being burnt again. (fn. 60)
Although there is no mention of a new dedication of the church at this time, yet the change made in the name of it has been thought by some to imply a formal solemnity of this kind, as it appears to have been from henceforth usually called the church of St. Thomas the Martyr, and to have continued so for above 350 years afterwards.
New names to churches, it is true. have been usually attended by formal consecrations of them; and had there been any such solemnity here, undoubtedly the same would not have passed by unnoticed by every historian, the circumstance of it must have been notorious, and the magnificence equal at least to the other dedications of this church, which have been constantly mentioned by them; but here was no need of any such ceremony, for although the general voice then burst forth to honour this church with the name of St. Thomas, the universal object of praise and adoration, then stiled the glorious martyr, yet it reached no further, for the name it had received at the former dedication, notwithstanding this common appellation of it, still remained in reality, and it still retained invariably in all records and writings, the name of Christ church only, as appears by many such remaining among the archives of the dean and chapter; and though on the seal of this church, which was changed about this time; the counter side of it had a representation of Becket's martyrdom, yet on the front of it was continued that of the church, and round it an inscription with the former name of Christ church; which seal remained in force till the dissolution of the priory.
It may not be improper to mention here some transactions, worthy of observation, relating to this favorite saint, which passed from the time of his being murdered, to that of his translation to the splendid shrine prepared for his relics.
Archbishop Thomas Becket was barbarously murdered in this church on Dec. 29, 1170, being the 16th year of king Henry II. and his body was privately buried towards the east end of the undercrost. The monks tell us, that about the Easter following, miracles began to be wrought by him, first at his tomb, then in the undercrost, and in every part of the whole fabric of the church; afterwards throughout England, and lastly, throughout the rest of the world. (fn. 61) The same of these miracles procured him the honour of a formal canonization from pope Alexander III. whose bull for that purpose is dated March 13, in the year 1172. (fn. 62) This declaration of the pope was soon known in all places, and the reports of his miracles were every where sounded abroad. (fn. 63)
Hereupon crowds of zealots, led on by a phrenzy of devotion, hastened to kneel at his tomb. In 1177, Philip, earl of Flanders, came hither for that purpose, when king Henry met and had a conference with him at Canterbury. (fn. 64) In June 1178, king Henry returning from Normandy, visited the sepulchre of this new saint; and in July following, William, archbishop of Rhemes, came from France, with a large retinue, to perform his vows to St. Thomas of Canterbury, where the king met him and received him honourably. In the year 1179, Lewis, king of France, came into England; before which neither he nor any of his predecessors had ever set foot in this kingdom. (fn. 65) He landed at Dover, where king Henry waited his arrival, and on August 23, the two kings came to Canterbury, with a great train of nobility of both nations, and were received with due honour and great joy, by the archbishop, with his com-provincial bishops, and the prior and the whole convent. (fn. 66)
King Lewis came in the manner and habit of a pilgrim, and was conducted to the tomb of St. Thomas by a solemn procession; he there offered his cup of gold and a royal precious stone, (fn. 67) and gave the convent a yearly rent for ever, of a hundred muids of wine, to be paid by himself and his successors; which grant was confirmed by his royal charter, under his seal, and delivered next day to the convent; (fn. 68) after he had staid here two, (fn. 69) or as others say, three days, (fn. 70) during which the oblations of gold and silver made were so great, that the relation of them almost exceeded credibility. (fn. 71) In 1181, king Henry, in his return from Normandy, again paid his devotions at this tomb. These visits were the early fruits of the adoration of the new sainted martyr, and these royal examples of kings and great persons were followed by multitudes, who crowded to present with full hands their oblations at his tomb.— Hence the convent was enabled to carry forward the building of the new choir, and they applied all this vast income to the fabric of the church, as the present case instantly required, for which they had the leave and consent of the archbishop, confirmed by the bulls of several succeeding popes. (fn. 72)
¶From the liberal oblations of these royal and noble personages at the tomb of St. Thomas, the expences of rebuilding the choir appear to have been in a great measure supplied, nor did their devotion and offerings to the new saint, after it was compleated, any ways abate, but, on the contrary, they daily increased; for in the year 1184, Philip, archbishop of Cologne, and Philip, earl of Flanders, came together to pay their vows at this tomb, and were met here by king Henry, who gave them an invitation to London. (fn. 73) In 1194, John, archbishop of Lions; in the year afterwards, John, archbishop of York; and in the year 1199, king John, performed their devotions at the foot of this tomb. (fn. 74) King Richard I. likewise, on his release from captivity in Germany, landing on the 30th of March at Sandwich, proceeded from thence, as an humble stranger on foot, towards Canterbury, to return his grateful thanks to God and St. Thomas for his release. (fn. 75) All these by name, with many nobles and multitudes of others, of all sorts and descriptions, visited the saint with humble adoration and rich oblations, whilst his body lay in the undercrost. In the mean time the chapel and altar at the upper part of the east end of the church, which had been formerly consecrated to the Holy Trinity, were demolished, and again prepared with great splendor, for the reception of this saint, who being now placed there, implanted his name not only on the chapel and altar, but on the whole church, which was from thenceforth known only by that of the church of St. Thomas the martyr.
On July 7, anno 1220, the remains of St. Thomas were translated from his tomb to his new shrine, with the greatest solemnity and rejoicings. Pandulph, the pope's legate, the archbishops of Canterbury and Rheims, and many bishops and abbots, carried the coffin on their shoulders, and placed it on the new shrine, and the king graced these solemnities with his royal presence. (fn. 76) The archbishop of Canterbury provided forage along all the road, between London and Canterbury, for the horses of all such as should come to them, and he caused several pipes and conduits to run with wine in different parts of the city. This, with the other expences arising during the time, was so great, that he left a debt on the see, which archbishop Boniface, his fourth successor in it, was hardly enabled to discharge.
¶The saint being now placed in his new repository, became the vain object of adoration to the deluded people, and afterwards numbers of licences were granted to strangers by the king, to visit this shrine. (fn. 77) The titles of glorious, of saint and martyr, were among those given to him; (fn. 78) such veneration had all people for his relics, that the religious of several cathedral churches and monasteries, used all their endeavours to obtain some of them, and thought themselves happy and rich in the possession of the smallest portion of them. (fn. 79) Besides this, there were erected and dedicated to his honour, many churches, chapels, altars and hospitals in different places, both in this kingdom and abroad. (fn. 80) Thus this saint, even whilst he lay in his obscure tomb in the undercroft, brought such large and constant supplies of money, as enabled the monks to finish this beautiful choir, and the eastern parts of the church; and when he was translated to the most exalted and honourable place in it, a still larger abundance of gain filled their coffers, which continued as a plentiful supply to them, from year to year, to the time of the reformation, and the final abolition of the priory itself.
www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol11/pp306-383
Cathedral and Metropolitical Church of Christ, Canterbury Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
The long, dark and empty days of COVID are behind us, and although the streets were not packed, there were groups following guides, and it felt normal.
The reason for being here was the first ever public opening of the Corona Tower and then the chance to climb the 87 steps to the roof, for panoramic views of the city and surrounding downs.
Just one tour a day, with limited numbers, so I wanted to make sure my name was on the list. I got to the cathedral at five past ten, and was indeed the first name on the list, though a decision on whether the rooftop visit would go ahead depended on the winds dropping.
I went round the cathedral one more time, rattling of a couple of hundred shots, going down the crypt and around the Apse.
A short walk away is St Paul Without, which was open. So I went in to take some shots, I think I was there a couple of years back and was recognised in the guise of my Facebook avatar and name.
At midday, or just past, I was at the door of the Thomas Backet pub for a swifter. The landlord's two dogs made me feel very welcome.
The sun had got out and was warm outside, so I stayed inside for a second beer, and then they put their new house ale on, Troublesome Priest, named after the curse of King John of Thomas Becket. Its a dark best bitter, and very drinkable.
Three pints in, I thought I had better stop and go to meet up with Jools. The cathedral called to let me know the tour was on, so all was good.
I booked a table at a BBQ place for later, bought Jools a cider as she was parched, whereas I was well hydrated.
At quarter to three, I walked back to the cathedral, and was entertained by a choir while I waited. Their voices filled the huge space of the Nave, spinetingling stuff.
At half three, I met the guide at the lectern in the Quire, five others joined in to. So, after introductions, we walked to the Chapel at the very east of the Cathedral.
The public can look in the chapel, but have never been allowed inside, so this was a rare chance.
We swapped stories and news, me pointing out that the guide should really go to Nackington to see the ancient glass there, glass that gives the cathedral a good run for its money with the oldest stained glass in the country.
Then, time to climb to to roof of the chapel. An ancient door was unlocked, and beyond, medieval steps, unworn by many feet, so looking almost new, lead up and round.
Two glass doors look out onto the Quire, but are left dirty so people don't linger on the stairs to look. So, up and up, round and round, until the steps straighten up and with one last double-height step, we were out on the roof.
Not the very top of the cathedral: the roof of the Chancel rose to the west, and the central tower behind that, and in the distance, the two western tower just showed.
We look down on the city: a party in the grounds of the posh school nearby, the hustle of the streets and shops, and beyond, ground rose on all sides to the north Downs.
For half an hour we lingered and soaked the warm in.
Time ran out, so back down. With the first huge step a doosie, but once over that, just round and round, down and down until we were back in the Chancel, with the last visitors of the day looking in surprise as we emerged from the cathedral walls.
Jools was in the Thomas Becket, as was my colleague Peter. They were two beers up on me. Or Peter was. Jools would be driving, so she had the one cider.
The pub is city centre, but down a side street, so is good, but quieter than it might otherwise be. And their beer is good, which helps, and the food, if you eat there, very good indeed.
We talk for an hour, then walk to the smokehouse, which turned out not to be a smokehouse, but a fast food place, opposite the grand entrance to King's School. They di platters for us, and was pretty good, and not too pricey either.
Then back to the Thomas Becket for "one last beer", and more chatting.
Jools lead me to the car, as my health app ticked over 18,000 steps. I was pooped and ready to go home for a cuppa before bed.
The city was just waking up, as bright and beautiful young things tumbled out of cars for a night in the clubs and bars, just beginning their fun just as we were finishing up.
Out through Windcheap and onto the A2, a cruise in the gloaming back to Dover.
Needless to say, the cats were very pleased/annoyed to see us just after nine. So we fed them, fussed over them. Jools made a brew and I checked my shots, charged the battery ready for Saturday and another fine day out planned.
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History of the cathedral
THE ORIGIN of a Christian church on the scite of the present cathedral, is supposed to have taken place as early as the Roman empire in Britain, for the use of the antient faithful and believing soldiers of their garrison here; and that Augustine found such a one standing here, adjoining to king Ethelbert's palace, which was included in the king's gift to him.
This supposition is founded on the records of the priory of Christ-church, (fn. 1) concurring with the common opinion of almost all our historians, who tell us of a church in Canterbury, which Augustine found standing in the east part of the city, which he had of king Ethelbert's gift, which after his consecration at Arles, in France, he commended by special dedication to the patronage of our blessed Saviour. (fn. 2)
According to others, the foundations only of an old church formerly built by the believing Romans, were left here, on which Augustine erected that, which he afterwards dedicated to out Saviour; (fn. 3) and indeed it is not probable that king Ethelbert should have suffered the unsightly ruins of a Christian church, which, being a Pagan, must have been very obnoxious to him, so close to his palace, and supposing these ruins had been here, would he not have suffered them to be repaired, rather than have obliged his Christian queen to travel daily to such a distance as St. Martin's church, or St. Pancrace's chapel, for the performance of her devotions.
Some indeed have conjectured that the church found by St. Augustine, in the east part of the city, was that of St.Martin, truly so situated; and urge in favor of it, that there have not been at any time any remains of British or Roman bricks discovered scattered in or about this church of our Saviour, those infallible, as Mr. Somner stiles them, signs of antiquity, and so generally found in buildings, which have been erected on, or close to the spot where more antient ones have stood. But to proceed, king Ethelbert's donation to Augustine was made in the year 596, who immediately afterwards went over to France, and was consecrated a bishop at Arles, and after his return, as soon as he had sufficiently finished a church here, whether built out of ruins or anew, it matters not, he exercised his episcopal function in the dedication of it, says the register of Christ-church, to the honor of Christ our Saviour; whence it afterwards obtained the name of Christ-church. (fn. 4)
From the time of Augustine for the space of upwards of three hundred years, there is not found in any printed or manuscript chronicle, the least mention of the fabric of this church, so that it is probable nothing befell it worthy of being recorded; however it should be mentioned, that during that period the revenues of it were much increased, for in the leiger books of it there are registered more than fifty donations of manors, lands, &c. so large and bountiful, as became the munificence of kings and nobles to confer. (fn. 5)
It is supposed, especially as we find no mention made of any thing to the contrary, that the fabric of this church for two hundred years after Augustine's time, met with no considerable molestations; but afterwards, the frequent invasions of the Danes involved both the civil and ecclesiastical state of this country in continual troubles and dangers; in the confusion of which, this church appears to have run into a state of decay; for when Odo was promoted to the archbishopric, in the year 938, the roof of it was in a ruinous condition; age had impaired it, and neglect had made it extremely dangerous; the walls of it were of an uneven height, according as it had been more or less decayed, and the roof of the church seemed ready to fall down on the heads of those underneath. All this the archbishop undertook to repair, and then covered the whole church with lead; to finish which, it took three years, as Osbern tells us, in the life of Odo; (fn. 6) and further, that there was not to be found a church of so large a size, capable of containing so great a multitude of people, and thus, perhaps, it continued without any material change happening to it, till the year 1011; a dismal and fatal year to this church and city; a time of unspeakable confusion and calamities; for in the month of September that year, the Danes, after a siege of twenty days, entered this city by force, burnt the houses, made a lamentable slaughter of the inhabitants, rifled this church, and then set it on fire, insomuch, that the lead with which archbishop Odo had covered it, being melted, ran down on those who were underneath. The sull story of this calamity is given by Osbern, in the life of archbishop Odo, an abridgement of which the reader will find below. (fn. 7)
The church now lay in ruins, without a roof, the bare walls only standing, and in this desolate condition it remained as long as the fury of the Danes prevailed, who after they had burnt the church, carried away archbishop Alphage with them, kept him in prison seven months, and then put him to death, in the year 1012, the year after which Living, or Livingus, succeeded him as archbishop, though it was rather in his calamities than in his seat of dignity, for he too was chained up by the Danes in a loathsome dungeon for seven months, before he was set free, but he so sensibly felt the deplorable state of this country, which he foresaw was every day growing worse and worse, that by a voluntary exile, he withdrew himself out of the nation, to find some solitary retirement, where he might bewail those desolations of his country, to which he was not able to bring any relief, but by his continual prayers. (fn. 8) He just outlived this storm, returned into England, and before he died saw peace and quientness restored to this land by king Canute, who gaining to himself the sole sovereignty over the nation, made it his first business to repair the injuries which had been done to the churches and monasteries in this kingdom, by his father's and his own wars. (fn. 9)
As for this church, archbishop Ægelnoth, who presided over it from the year 1020 to the year 1038, began and finished the repair, or rather the rebuilding of it, assisted in it by the royal munificence of the king, (fn. 10) who in 1023 presented his crown of gold to this church, and restored to it the port of Sandwich, with its liberties. (fn. 11) Notwithstanding this, in less than forty years afterwards, when Lanfranc soon after the Norman conquest came to the see, he found this church reduced almost to nothing by fire, and dilapidations; for Eadmer says, it had been consumed by a third conflagration, prior to the year of his advancement to it, in which fire almost all the antient records of the privileges of it had perished. (fn. 12)
The same writer has given us a description of this old church, as it was before Lanfranc came to the see; by which we learn, that at the east end there was an altar adjoining to the wall of the church, of rough unhewn stone, cemented with mortar, erected by archbishop Odo, for a repository of the body of Wilfrid, archbishop of York, which Odo had translated from Rippon hither, giving it here the highest place; at a convenient distance from this, westward, there was another altar, dedicated to Christ our Saviour, at which divine service was daily celebrated. In this altar was inclosed the head of St. Swithin, with many other relics, which archbishop Alphage brought with him from Winchester. Passing from this altar westward, many steps led down to the choir and nave, which were both even, or upon the same level. At the bottom of the steps, there was a passage into the undercroft, under all the east part of the church. (fn. 13) At the east end of which, was an altar, in which was inclosed, according to old tradition, the head of St. Furseus. From hence by a winding passage, at the west end of it, was the tomb of St. Dunstan, (fn. 14) but separated from the undercroft by a strong stone wall; over the tomb was erected a monument, pyramid wife, and at the head of it an altar, (fn. 15) for the mattin service. Between these steps, or passage into the undercroft and the nave, was the choir, (fn. 16) which was separated from the nave by a fair and decent partition, to keep off the crowds of people that usually were in the body of the church, so that the singing of the chanters in the choir might not be disturbed. About the middle of the length of the nave, were two towers or steeples, built without the walls; one on the south, and the other on the north side. In the former was the altar of St. Gregory, where was an entrance into the church by the south door, and where law controversies and pleas concerning secular matters were exercised. (fn. 17) In the latter, or north tower, was a passage for the monks into the church, from the monastery; here were the cloysters, where the novices were instructed in their religious rules and offices, and where the monks conversed together. In this tower was the altar of St. Martin. At the west end of the church was a chapel, dedicated to the blessed Virgin Mary, to which there was an ascent by steps, and at the east end of it an altar, dedicated to her, in which was inclosed the head of St. Astroburta the Virgin; and at the western part of it was the archbishop's pontifical chair, made of large stones, compacted together with mortar; a fair piece of work, and placed at a convenient distance from the altar, close to the wall of the church. (fn. 18)
To return now to archbishop Lanfranc, who was sent for from Normandy in 1073, being the fourth year of the Conqueror's reign, to fill this see, a time, when a man of a noble spirit, equal to the laborious task he was to undertake, was wanting especially for this church; and that he was such, the several great works which were performed by him, were incontestable proofs, as well as of his great and generous mind. At the first sight of the ruinous condition of this church, says the historian, the archbishop was struck with astonishment, and almost despaired of seeing that and the monastery re edified; but his care and perseverance raised both in all its parts anew, and that in a novel and more magnificent kind and form of structure, than had been hardly in any place before made use of in this kingdom, which made it a precedent and pattern to succeeding structures of this kind; (fn. 19) and new monasteries and churches were built after the example of it; for it should be observed, that before the coming of the Normans most of the churches and monasteries in this kingdom were of wood; (all the monasteries in my realm, says king Edgar, in his charter to the abbey of Malmesbury, dated anno 974, to the outward sight are nothing but worm-eaten and rotten timber and boards) but after the Norman conquest, such timber fabrics grew out of use, and gave place to stone buildings raised upon arches; a form of structure introduced into general use by that nation, and in these parts surnished with stone from Caen, in Normandy. (fn. 20) After this fashion archbishop Lanfranc rebuilt the whole church from the foundation, with the palace and monastery, the wall which encompassed the court, and all the offices belonging to the monastery within the wall, finishing the whole nearly within the compass of seven years; (fn. 21) besides which, he furnished the church with ornaments and rich vestments; after which, the whole being perfected, he altered the name of it, by a dedication of it to the Holy Trinity; whereas, before it was called the church of our Saviour, or Christ-church, and from the above time it bore (as by Domesday book appears) the name of the church of the Holy Trinity; this new church being built on the same spot on which the antient one stood, though on a far different model.
After Lanfranc's death, archbishop Anselm succeeded in the year 1093, to the see of Canterbury, and must be esteemed a principal benefactor to this church; for though his time was perplexed with a continued series of troubles, of which both banishment and poverty made no small part, which in a great measure prevented him from bestowing that cost on his church, which he would otherwise have done, yet it was through his patronage and protection, and through his care and persuasions, that the fabric of it, begun and perfected by his predecessor, became enlarged and rose to still greater splendor. (fn. 22)
In order to carry this forward, upon the vacancy of the priory, he constituted Ernulph and Conrad, the first in 1104, the latter in 1108, priors of this church; to whose care, being men of generous and noble minds, and of singular skill in these matters, he, during his troubles, not only committed the management of this work, but of all his other concerns during his absence.
Probably archbishop Anselm, on being recalled from banishment on king Henry's accession to the throne, had pulled down that part of the church built by Lanfranc, from the great tower in the middle of it to the east end, intending to rebuild it upon a still larger and more magnificent plan; when being borne down by the king's displeasure, he intrusted prior Ernulph with the work, who raised up the building with such splendor, says Malmesbury, that the like was not to be seen in all England; (fn. 23) but the short time Ernulph continued in this office did not permit him to see his undertaking finished. (fn. 24) This was left to his successor Conrad, who, as the obituary of Christ church informs us, by his great industry, magnificently perfected the choir, which his predecessor had left unfinished, (fn. 25) adorning it with curious pictures, and enriching it with many precious ornaments. (fn. 26)
This great undertaking was not entirely compleated at the death of archbishop Anselm, which happened in 1109, anno 9 Henry I. nor indeed for the space of five years afterwards, during which the see of Canterbury continued vacant; when being finished, in honour of its builder, and on account of its more than ordinary beauty, it gained the name of the glorious choir of Conrad. (fn. 27)
After the see of Canterbury had continued thus vacant for five years, Ralph, or as some call him, Rodulph, bishop of Rochester, was translated to it in the year 1114, at whose coming to it, the church was dedicated anew to the Holy Trinity, the name which had been before given to it by Lanfranc. (fn. 28) The only particular description we have of this church when thus finished, is from Gervas, the monk of this monastery, and that proves imperfect, as to the choir of Lanfranc, which had been taken down soon after his death; (fn. 29) the following is his account of the nave, or western part of it below the choir, being that which had been erected by archbishop Lanfranc, as has been before mentioned. From him we learn, that the west end, where the chapel of the Virgin Mary stood before, was now adorned with two stately towers, on the top of which were gilded pinnacles. The nave or body was supported by eight pair of pillars. At the east end of the nave, on the north side, was an oratory, dedicated in honor to the blessed Virgin, in lieu, I suppose, of the chapel, that had in the former church been dedicated to her at the west end. Between the nave and the choir there was built a great tower or steeple, as it were in the centre of the whole fabric; (fn. 30) under this tower was erected the altar of the Holy Cross; over a partition, which separated this tower from the nave, a beam was laid across from one side to the other of the church; upon the middle of this beam was fixed a great cross, between the images of the Virgin Mary and St. John, and between two cherubims. The pinnacle on the top of this tower, was a gilded cherub, and hence it was called the angel steeple; a name it is frequently called by at this day. (fn. 31)
This great tower had on each side a cross isle, called the north and south wings, which were uniform, of the same model and dimensions; each of them had a strong pillar in the middle for a support to the roof, and each of them had two doors or passages, by which an entrance was open to the east parts of the church. At one of these doors there was a descent by a few steps into the undercroft; at the other, there was an ascent by many steps into the upper parts of the church, that is, the choir, and the isles on each side of it. Near every one of these doors or passages, an altar was erected; at the upper door in the south wing, there was an altar in honour of All Saints; and at the lower door there was one of St. Michael; and before this altar on the south side was buried archbishop Fleologild; and on the north side, the holy Virgin Siburgis, whom St. Dunstan highly admired for her sanctity. In the north isle, by the upper door, was the altar of St. Blaze; and by the lower door, that of St. Benedict. In this wing had been interred four archbishops, Adelm and Ceolnoth, behind the altar, and Egelnoth and Wlfelm before it. At the entrance into this wing, Rodulph and his successor William Corboil, both archbishops, were buried. (fn. 32)
Hence, he continues, we go up by some steps into the great tower, and before us there is a door and steps leading down into the south wing, and on the right hand a pair of folding doors, with stairs going down into the nave of the church; but without turning to any of these, let us ascend eastward, till by several more steps we come to the west end of Conrad's choir; being now at the entrance of the choir, Gervas tells us, that he neither saw the choir built by Lanfranc, nor found it described by any one; that Eadmer had made mention of it, without giving any account of it, as he had done of the old church, the reason of which appears to be, that Lanfranc's choir did not long survive its founder, being pulled down as before-mentioned, by archbishop Anselm; so that it could not stand more than twenty years; therefore the want of a particular description of it will appear no great defect in the history of this church, especially as the deficiency is here supplied by Gervas's full relation of the new choir of Conrad, built instead of it; of which, whoever desires to know the whole architecture and model observed in the fabric, the order, number, height and form of the pillars and windows, may know the whole of it from him. The roof of it, he tells us, (fn. 33) was beautified with curious paintings representing heaven; (fn. 34) in several respects it was agreeable to the present choir, the stalls were large and framed of carved wood. In the middle of it, there hung a gilded crown, on which were placed four and twenty tapers of wax. From the choir an ascent of three steps led to the presbiterium, or place for the presbiters; here, he says, it would be proper to stop a little and take notice of the high altar, which was dedicated to the name of CHRIST. It was placed between two other altars, the one of St. Dunstan, the other of St. Alphage; at the east corners of the high altar were fixed two pillars of wood, beautified with silver and gold; upon these pillars was placed a beam, adorned with gold, which reached across the church, upon it there were placed the glory, (fn. 35) the images of St. Dunstan and St. Alphage, and seven chests or coffers overlaid with gold, full of the relics of many saints. Between those pillars was a cross gilded all over, and upon the upper beam of the cross were set sixty bright crystals.
Beyond this, by an ascent of eight steps towards the east, behind the altar, was the archiepiscopal throne, which Gervas calls the patriarchal chair, made of one stone; in this chair, according to the custom of the church, the archbishop used to sit, upon principal festivals, in his pontifical ornaments, whilst the solemn offices of religion were celebrated, until the consecration of the host, when he came down to the high altar, and there performed the solemnity of consecration. Still further, eastward, behind the patriarchal chair, (fn. 36) was a chapel in the front of the whole church, in which was an altar, dedicated to the Holy Trinity; behind which were laid the bones of two archbishops, Odo of Canterbury, and Wilfrid of York; by this chapel on the south side near the wall of the church, was laid the body of archbishop Lanfranc, and on the north side, the body of archbishop Theobald. Here it is to be observed, that under the whole east part of the church, from the angel steeple, there was an undercrost or crypt, (fn. 37) in which were several altars, chapels and sepulchres; under the chapel of the Trinity before-mentioned, were two altars, on the south side, the altar of St. Augustine, the apostle of the English nation, by which archbishop Athelred was interred. On the north side was the altar of St. John Baptist, by which was laid the body of archbishop Eadsin; under the high altar was the chapel and altar of the blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the whole undercroft was dedicated.
To return now, he continues, to the place where the bresbyterium and choir meet, where on each side there was a cross isle (as was to be seen in his time) which might be called the upper south and north wings; on the east side of each of these wings were two half circular recesses or nooks in the wall, arched over after the form of porticoes. Each of them had an altar, and there was the like number of altars under them in the crost. In the north wing, the north portico had the altar of St. Martin, by which were interred the bodies of two archbishops, Wlfred on the right, and Living on the left hand; under it in the croft, was the altar of St. Mary Magdalen. The other portico in this wing, had the altar of St. Stephen, and by it were buried two archbishops, Athelard on the left hand, and Cuthbert on the right; in the croft under it, was the altar of St. Nicholas. In the south wing, the north portico had the altar of St. John the Evangelist, and by it the bodies of Æthelgar and Aluric, archbishops, were laid. In the croft under it was the altar of St. Paulinus, by which the body of archbishop Siricius was interred. In the south portico was the altar of St. Gregory, by which were laid the corps of the two archbishops Bregwin and Plegmund. In the croft under it was the altar of St. Owen, archbishop of Roan, and underneath in the croft, not far from it the altar of St. Catherine.
Passing from these cross isles eastward there were two towers, one on the north, the other on the south side of the church. In the tower on the north side was the altar of St. Andrew, which gave name to the tower; under it, in the croft, was the altar of the Holy Innocents; the tower on the south side had the altar of St. Peter and St. Paul, behind which the body of St. Anselm was interred, which afterwards gave name both to the altar and tower (fn. 38) (now called St. Anselm's). The wings or isles on each side of the choir had nothing in particular to be taken notice of.— Thus far Gervas, from whose description we in particular learn, where several of the bodies of the old archbishops were deposited, and probably the ashes of some of them remain in the same places to this day.
As this building, deservedly called the glorious choir of Conrad, was a magnificent work, so the undertaking of it at that time will appear almost beyond example, especially when the several circumstances of it are considered; but that it was carried forward at the archbishop's cost, exceeds all belief. It was in the discouraging reign of king William Rufus, a prince notorious in the records of history, for all manner of sacrilegious rapine, that archbishop Anselm was promoted to this see; when he found the lands and revenues of this church so miserably wasted and spoiled, that there was hardly enough left for his bare subsistence; who, in the first years that he sat in the archiepiscopal chair, struggled with poverty, wants and continual vexations through the king's displeasure, (fn. 39) and whose three next years were spent in banishment, during all which time he borrowed money for his present maintenance; who being called home by king Henry I. at his coming to the crown, laboured to pay the debts he had contracted during the time of his banishment, and instead of enjoying that tranquility and ease he hoped for, was, within two years afterwards, again sent into banishment upon a fresh displeasure conceived against him by the king, who then seized upon all the revenues of the archbishopric, (fn. 40) which he retained in his own hands for no less than four years.
Under these hard circumstances, it would have been surprizing indeed, that the archbishop should have been able to carry on so great a work, and yet we are told it, as a truth, by the testimonies of history; but this must surely be understood with the interpretation of his having been the patron, protector and encourager, rather than the builder of this work, which he entrusted to the care and management of the priors Ernulph and Conrad, and sanctioned their employing, as Lanfranc had done before, the revenues and stock of the church to this use. (fn. 41)
In this state as above-mentioned, without any thing material happening to it, this church continued till about the year 1130, anno 30 Henry I. when it seems to have suffered some damage by a fire; (fn. 42) but how much, there is no record left to inform us; however it could not be of any great account, for it was sufficiently repaired, and that mostly at the cost of archbishop Corboil, who then sat in the chair of this see, (fn. 43) before the 4th of May that year, on which day, being Rogation Sunday, the bishops performed the dedication of it with great splendor and magnificence, such, says Gervas, col. 1664, as had not been heard of since the dedication of the temple of Solomon; the king, the queen, David, king of Scots, all the archbishops, and the nobility of both kingdoms being present at it, when this church's former name was restored again, being henceforward commonly called Christ-church. (fn. 44)
Among the manuscripts of Trinity college library, in Cambridge, in a very curious triple psalter of St. Jerome, in Latin, written by the monk Eadwyn, whose picture is at the beginning of it, is a plan or drawing made by him, being an attempt towards a representation of this church and monastery, as they stood between the years 1130 and 1174; which makes it probable, that he was one of the monks of it, and the more so, as the drawing has not any kind of relation to the plalter or sacred hymns contained in the manuscript.
His plan, if so it may be called, for it is neither such, nor an upright, nor a prospect, and yet something of all together; but notwithstanding this rudeness of the draftsman, it shews very plain that it was intended for this church and priory, and gives us a very clear knowledge, more than we have been able to learn from any description we have besides, of what both were at the above period of time. (fn. 45)
Forty-four years after this dedication, on the 5th of September, anno 1174, being the 20th year of king Henry II.'s reign, a fire happened, which consumed great part of this stately edifice, namely, the whole choir, from the angel steeple to the east end of the church, together with the prior's lodgings, the chapel of the Virgin Mary, the infirmary, and some other offices belonging to the monastery; but the angel steeple, the lower cross isles, and the nave appear to have received no material injury from the flames. (fn. 46) The narrative of this accident is told by Gervas, the monk of Canterbury, so often quoted before, who was an eye witness of this calamity, as follows:
Three small houses in the city near the old gate of the monastery took fire by accident, a strong south wind carried the flakes of fire to the top of the church, and lodged them between the joints of the lead, driving them to the timbers under it; this kindled a fire there, which was not discerned till the melted lead gave a free passage for the flames to appear above the church, and the wind gaining by this means a further power of increasing them, drove them inwardly, insomuch that the danger became immediately past all possibility of relief. The timber of the roof being all of it on fire, fell down into the choir, where the stalls of the manks, made of large pieces of carved wood, afforded plenty of fuel to the flames, and great part of the stone work, through the vehement heat of the fire, was so weakened, as to be brought to irreparable ruin, and besides the fabric itself, the many rich ornaments in the church were devoured by the flames.
The choir being thus laid in ashes, the monks removed from amidst the ruins, the bodies of the two saints, whom they called patrons of the church, the archbishops Dunstan and Alphage, and deposited them by the altar of the great cross, in the nave of the church; (fn. 47) and from this time they celebrated the daily religious offices in the oratory of the blessed Virgin Mary in the nave, and continued to do so for more than five years, when the choir being re edified, they returned to it again. (fn. 48)
Upon this destruction of the church, the prior and convent, without any delay, consulted on the most speedy and effectual method of rebuilding it, resolving to finish it in such a manner, as should surpass all the former choirs of it, as well in beauty as size and magnificence. To effect this, they sent for the most skilful architects that could be found either in France or England. These surveyed the walls and pillars, which remained standing, but they found great part of them so weakened by the fire, that they could no ways be built upon with any safety; and it was accordingly resolved, that such of them should be taken down; a whole year was spent in doing this, and in providing materials for the new building, for which they sent abroad for the best stone that could be procured; Gervas has given a large account, (fn. 49) how far this work advanced year by year; what methods and rules of architecture were observed, and other particulars relating to the rebuilding of this church; all which the curious reader may consult at his leisure; it will be sufficient to observe here, that the new building was larger in height and length, and more beautiful in every respect, than the choir of Conrad; for the roof was considerably advanced above what it was before, and was arched over with stone; whereas before it was composed of timber and boards. The capitals of the pillars were now beautified with different sculptures of carvework; whereas, they were before plain, and six pillars more were added than there were before. The former choir had but one triforium, or inner gallery, but now there were two made round it, and one in each side isle and three in the cross isles; before, there were no marble pillars, but such were now added to it in abundance. In forwarding this great work, the monks had spent eight years, when they could proceed no further for want of money; but a fresh supply coming in from the offerings at St. Thomas's tomb, so much more than was necessary for perfecting the repair they were engaged in, as encouraged them to set about a more grand design, which was to pull down the eastern extremity of the church, with the small chapel of the Holy Trinity adjoining to it, and to erect upon a stately undercroft, a most magnificent one instead of it, equally lofty with the roof of the church, and making a part of it, which the former one did not, except by a door into it; but this new chapel, which was dedicated likewise to the Holy Trinity, was not finished till some time after the rest of the church; at the east end of this chapel another handsome one, though small, was afterwards erected at the extremity of the whole building, since called Becket's crown, on purpose for an altar and the reception of some part of his relics; (fn. 50) further mention of which will be made hereafter.
The eastern parts of this church, as Mr. Gostling observes, have the appearance of much greater antiquity than what is generally allowed to them; and indeed if we examine the outside walls and the cross wings on each side of the choir, it will appear, that the whole of them was not rebuilt at the time the choir was, and that great part of them was suffered to remain, though altered, added to, and adapted as far as could be, to the new building erected at that time; the traces of several circular windows and other openings, which were then stopped up, removed, or altered, still appearing on the walls both of the isles and the cross wings, through the white-wash with which they are covered; and on the south side of the south isle, the vaulting of the roof as well as the triforium, which could not be contrived so as to be adjusted to the places of the upper windows, plainly shew it. To which may be added, that the base or foot of one of the westernmost large pillars of the choir on the north side, is strengthened with a strong iron band round it, by which it should seem to have been one of those pillars which had been weakened by the fire, but was judged of sufficient firmness, with this precaution, to remain for the use of the new fabric.
The outside of this part of the church is a corroborating proof of what has been mentioned above, as well in the method, as in the ornaments of the building.— The outside of it towards the south, from St. Michael's chapel eastward, is adorned with a range of small pillars, about six inches diameter, and about three feet high, some with santastic shasts and capitals, others with plain ones; these support little arches, which intersect each other; and this chain or girdle of pillars is continued round the small tower, the eastern cross isle and the chapel of St. Anselm, to the buildings added in honour of the Holy Trinity, and St. Thomas Becket, where they leave off. The casing of St. Michael's chapel has none of them, but the chapel of the Virgin Mary, answering to it on the north side of the church, not being fitted to the wall, shews some of them behind it; which seems as if they had been continued before, quite round the eastern parts of the church.
These pillars, which rise from about the level of the pavement, within the walls above them, are remarkably plain and bare of ornaments; but the tower above mentioned and its opposite, as soon as they rise clear of the building, are enriched with stories of this colonade, one above another, up to the platform from whence their spires rise; and the remains of the two larger towers eastward, called St. Anselm's, and that answering to it on the north side of the church, called St. Andrew's are decorated much after the same manner, as high as they remain at present.
At the time of the before-mentioned fire, which so fatally destroyed the upper part of this church, the undercrost, with the vaulting over it, seems to have remained entire, and unhurt by it.
The vaulting of the undercrost, on which the floor of the choir and eastern parts of the church is raised, is supported by pillars, whose capitals are as various and fantastical as those of the smaller ones described before, and so are their shafts, some being round, others canted, twisted, or carved, so that hardly any two of them are alike, except such as are quite plain.
These, I suppose, may be concluded to be of the same age, and if buildings in the same stile may be conjectured to be so from thence, the antiquity of this part of the church may be judged, though historians have left us in the dark in relation to it.
In Leland's Collectanea, there is an account and description of a vault under the chancel of the antient church of St. Peter, in Oxford, called Grymbald's crypt, being allowed by all, to have been built by him; (fn. 51) Grymbald was one of those great and accomplished men, whom king Alfred invited into England about the year 885, to assist him in restoring Christianity, learning and the liberal arts. (fn. 52) Those who compare the vaults or undercrost of the church of Canterbury, with the description and prints given of Grymbald's crypt, (fn. 53) will easily perceive, that two buildings could hardly have been erected more strongly resembling each other, except that this at Canterbury is larger, and more pro fusely decorated with variety of fancied ornaments, the shafts of several of the pillars here being twisted, or otherwise varied, and many of the captials exactly in the same grotesque taste as those in Grymbald's crypt. (fn. 54) Hence it may be supposed, that those whom archbishop Lanfranc employed as architects and designers of his building at Canterbury, took their model of it, at least of this part of it, from that crypt, and this undercrost now remaining is the same, as was originally built by him, as far eastward, as to that part which begins under the chapel of the Holy Trinity, where it appears to be of a later date, erected at the same time as the chapel. The part built by Lanfranc continues at this time as firm and entire, as it was at the very building of it, though upwards of seven hundred years old. (fn. 55)
But to return to the new building; though the church was not compleatly finished till the end of the year 1184, yet it was so far advanced towards it, that, in 1180, on April 19, being Easter eve, (fn. 56) the archbishop, prior and monks entered the new choir, with a solemn procession, singing Te Deum, for their happy return to it. Three days before which they had privately, by night, carried the bodies of St. Dunstan and St. Alphage to the places prepared for them near the high altar. The body likewise of queen Edive (which after the fire had been removed from the north cross isle, where it lay before, under a stately gilded shrine) to the altar of the great cross, was taken up, carried into the vestry, and thence to the altar of St. Martin, where it was placed under the coffin of archbishop Livinge. In the month of July following the altar of the Holy Trinity was demolished, and the bodies of those archbishops, which had been laid in that part of the church, were removed to other places. Odo's body was laid under St. Dunstan's and Wilfrid's under St. Alphage's; Lanfranc's was deposited nigh the altar of St. Martin, and Theobald's at that of the blessed Virgin, in the nave of the church, (fn. 57) under a marble tomb; and soon afterwards the two archbishops, on the right and left hand of archbishop Becket in the undercrost, were taken up and placed under the altar of St. Mary there. (fn. 58)
After a warning so terrible, as had lately been given, it seemed most necessary to provide against the danger of fire for the time to come; the flames, which had so lately destroyed a considerable part of the church and monastery, were caused by some small houses, which had taken fire at a small distance from the church.— There still remained some other houses near it, which belonged to the abbot and convent of St. Augustine; for these the monks of Christ-church created, by an exchange, which could not be effected till the king interposed, and by his royal authority, in a manner, compelled the abbot and convent to a composition for this purpose, which was dated in the year 1177, that was three years after the late fire of this church. (fn. 59)
These houses were immediately pulled down, and it proved a providential and an effectual means of preserving the church from the like calamity; for in the year 1180, on May 22, this new choir, being not then compleated, though it had been used the month be fore, as has been already mentioned, there happened a fire in the city, which burnt down many houses, and the flames bent their course towards the church, which was again in great danger; but the houses near it being taken away, the fire was stopped, and the church escaped being burnt again. (fn. 60)
Although there is no mention of a new dedication of the church at this time, yet the change made in the name of it has been thought by some to imply a formal solemnity of this kind, as it appears to have been from henceforth usually called the church of St. Thomas the Martyr, and to have continued so for above 350 years afterwards.
New names to churches, it is true. have been usually attended by formal consecrations of them; and had there been any such solemnity here, undoubtedly the same would not have passed by unnoticed by every historian, the circumstance of it must have been notorious, and the magnificence equal at least to the other dedications of this church, which have been constantly mentioned by them; but here was no need of any such ceremony, for although the general voice then burst forth to honour this church with the name of St. Thomas, the universal object of praise and adoration, then stiled the glorious martyr, yet it reached no further, for the name it had received at the former dedication, notwithstanding this common appellation of it, still remained in reality, and it still retained invariably in all records and writings, the name of Christ church only, as appears by many such remaining among the archives of the dean and chapter; and though on the seal of this church, which was changed about this time; the counter side of it had a representation of Becket's martyrdom, yet on the front of it was continued that of the church, and round it an inscription with the former name of Christ church; which seal remained in force till the dissolution of the priory.
It may not be improper to mention here some transactions, worthy of observation, relating to this favorite saint, which passed from the time of his being murdered, to that of his translation to the splendid shrine prepared for his relics.
Archbishop Thomas Becket was barbarously murdered in this church on Dec. 29, 1170, being the 16th year of king Henry II. and his body was privately buried towards the east end of the undercrost. The monks tell us, that about the Easter following, miracles began to be wrought by him, first at his tomb, then in the undercrost, and in every part of the whole fabric of the church; afterwards throughout England, and lastly, throughout the rest of the world. (fn. 61) The same of these miracles procured him the honour of a formal canonization from pope Alexander III. whose bull for that purpose is dated March 13, in the year 1172. (fn. 62) This declaration of the pope was soon known in all places, and the reports of his miracles were every where sounded abroad. (fn. 63)
Hereupon crowds of zealots, led on by a phrenzy of devotion, hastened to kneel at his tomb. In 1177, Philip, earl of Flanders, came hither for that purpose, when king Henry met and had a conference with him at Canterbury. (fn. 64) In June 1178, king Henry returning from Normandy, visited the sepulchre of this new saint; and in July following, William, archbishop of Rhemes, came from France, with a large retinue, to perform his vows to St. Thomas of Canterbury, where the king met him and received him honourably. In the year 1179, Lewis, king of France, came into England; before which neither he nor any of his predecessors had ever set foot in this kingdom. (fn. 65) He landed at Dover, where king Henry waited his arrival, and on August 23, the two kings came to Canterbury, with a great train of nobility of both nations, and were received with due honour and great joy, by the archbishop, with his com-provincial bishops, and the prior and the whole convent. (fn. 66)
King Lewis came in the manner and habit of a pilgrim, and was conducted to the tomb of St. Thomas by a solemn procession; he there offered his cup of gold and a royal precious stone, (fn. 67) and gave the convent a yearly rent for ever, of a hundred muids of wine, to be paid by himself and his successors; which grant was confirmed by his royal charter, under his seal, and delivered next day to the convent; (fn. 68) after he had staid here two, (fn. 69) or as others say, three days, (fn. 70) during which the oblations of gold and silver made were so great, that the relation of them almost exceeded credibility. (fn. 71) In 1181, king Henry, in his return from Normandy, again paid his devotions at this tomb. These visits were the early fruits of the adoration of the new sainted martyr, and these royal examples of kings and great persons were followed by multitudes, who crowded to present with full hands their oblations at his tomb.— Hence the convent was enabled to carry forward the building of the new choir, and they applied all this vast income to the fabric of the church, as the present case instantly required, for which they had the leave and consent of the archbishop, confirmed by the bulls of several succeeding popes. (fn. 72)
¶From the liberal oblations of these royal and noble personages at the tomb of St. Thomas, the expences of rebuilding the choir appear to have been in a great measure supplied, nor did their devotion and offerings to the new saint, after it was compleated, any ways abate, but, on the contrary, they daily increased; for in the year 1184, Philip, archbishop of Cologne, and Philip, earl of Flanders, came together to pay their vows at this tomb, and were met here by king Henry, who gave them an invitation to London. (fn. 73) In 1194, John, archbishop of Lions; in the year afterwards, John, archbishop of York; and in the year 1199, king John, performed their devotions at the foot of this tomb. (fn. 74) King Richard I. likewise, on his release from captivity in Germany, landing on the 30th of March at Sandwich, proceeded from thence, as an humble stranger on foot, towards Canterbury, to return his grateful thanks to God and St. Thomas for his release. (fn. 75) All these by name, with many nobles and multitudes of others, of all sorts and descriptions, visited the saint with humble adoration and rich oblations, whilst his body lay in the undercrost. In the mean time the chapel and altar at the upper part of the east end of the church, which had been formerly consecrated to the Holy Trinity, were demolished, and again prepared with great splendor, for the reception of this saint, who being now placed there, implanted his name not only on the chapel and altar, but on the whole church, which was from thenceforth known only by that of the church of St. Thomas the martyr.
On July 7, anno 1220, the remains of St. Thomas were translated from his tomb to his new shrine, with the greatest solemnity and rejoicings. Pandulph, the pope's legate, the archbishops of Canterbury and Rheims, and many bishops and abbots, carried the coffin on their shoulders, and placed it on the new shrine, and the king graced these solemnities with his royal presence. (fn. 76) The archbishop of Canterbury provided forage along all the road, between London and Canterbury, for the horses of all such as should come to them, and he caused several pipes and conduits to run with wine in different parts of the city. This, with the other expences arising during the time, was so great, that he left a debt on the see, which archbishop Boniface, his fourth successor in it, was hardly enabled to discharge.
¶The saint being now placed in his new repository, became the vain object of adoration to the deluded people, and afterwards numbers of licences were granted to strangers by the king, to visit this shrine. (fn. 77) The titles of glorious, of saint and martyr, were among those given to him; (fn. 78) such veneration had all people for his relics, that the religious of several cathedral churches and monasteries, used all their endeavours to obtain some of them, and thought themselves happy and rich in the possession of the smallest portion of them. (fn. 79) Besides this, there were erected and dedicated to his honour, many churches, chapels, altars and hospitals in different places, both in this kingdom and abroad. (fn. 80) Thus this saint, even whilst he lay in his obscure tomb in the undercroft, brought such large and constant supplies of money, as enabled the monks to finish this beautiful choir, and the eastern parts of the church; and when he was translated to the most exalted and honourable place in it, a still larger abundance of gain filled their coffers, which continued as a plentiful supply to them, from year to year, to the time of the reformation, and the final abolition of the priory itself.
www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol11/pp306-383
Cathedral and Metropolitical Church of Christ, Canterbury Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
The long, dark and empty days of COVID are behind us, and although the streets were not packed, there were groups following guides, and it felt normal.
The reason for being here was the first ever public opening of the Corona Tower and then the chance to climb the 87 steps to the roof, for panoramic views of the city and surrounding downs.
Just one tour a day, with limited numbers, so I wanted to make sure my name was on the list. I got to the cathedral at five past ten, and was indeed the first name on the list, though a decision on whether the rooftop visit would go ahead depended on the winds dropping.
I went round the cathedral one more time, rattling of a couple of hundred shots, going down the crypt and around the Apse.
A short walk away is St Paul Without, which was open. So I went in to take some shots, I think I was there a couple of years back and was recognised in the guise of my Facebook avatar and name.
At midday, or just past, I was at the door of the Thomas Backet pub for a swifter. The landlord's two dogs made me feel very welcome.
The sun had got out and was warm outside, so I stayed inside for a second beer, and then they put their new house ale on, Troublesome Priest, named after the curse of King John of Thomas Becket. Its a dark best bitter, and very drinkable.
Three pints in, I thought I had better stop and go to meet up with Jools. The cathedral called to let me know the tour was on, so all was good.
I booked a table at a BBQ place for later, bought Jools a cider as she was parched, whereas I was well hydrated.
At quarter to three, I walked back to the cathedral, and was entertained by a choir while I waited. Their voices filled the huge space of the Nave, spinetingling stuff.
At half three, I met the guide at the lectern in the Quire, five others joined in to. So, after introductions, we walked to the Chapel at the very east of the Cathedral.
The public can look in the chapel, but have never been allowed inside, so this was a rare chance.
We swapped stories and news, me pointing out that the guide should really go to Nackington to see the ancient glass there, glass that gives the cathedral a good run for its money with the oldest stained glass in the country.
Then, time to climb to to roof of the chapel. An ancient door was unlocked, and beyond, medieval steps, unworn by many feet, so looking almost new, lead up and round.
Two glass doors look out onto the Quire, but are left dirty so people don't linger on the stairs to look. So, up and up, round and round, until the steps straighten up and with one last double-height step, we were out on the roof.
Not the very top of the cathedral: the roof of the Chancel rose to the west, and the central tower behind that, and in the distance, the two western tower just showed.
We look down on the city: a party in the grounds of the posh school nearby, the hustle of the streets and shops, and beyond, ground rose on all sides to the north Downs.
For half an hour we lingered and soaked the warm in.
Time ran out, so back down. With the first huge step a doosie, but once over that, just round and round, down and down until we were back in the Chancel, with the last visitors of the day looking in surprise as we emerged from the cathedral walls.
Jools was in the Thomas Becket, as was my colleague Peter. They were two beers up on me. Or Peter was. Jools would be driving, so she had the one cider.
The pub is city centre, but down a side street, so is good, but quieter than it might otherwise be. And their beer is good, which helps, and the food, if you eat there, very good indeed.
We talk for an hour, then walk to the smokehouse, which turned out not to be a smokehouse, but a fast food place, opposite the grand entrance to King's School. They di platters for us, and was pretty good, and not too pricey either.
Then back to the Thomas Becket for "one last beer", and more chatting.
Jools lead me to the car, as my health app ticked over 18,000 steps. I was pooped and ready to go home for a cuppa before bed.
The city was just waking up, as bright and beautiful young things tumbled out of cars for a night in the clubs and bars, just beginning their fun just as we were finishing up.
Out through Windcheap and onto the A2, a cruise in the gloaming back to Dover.
Needless to say, the cats were very pleased/annoyed to see us just after nine. So we fed them, fussed over them. Jools made a brew and I checked my shots, charged the battery ready for Saturday and another fine day out planned.
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History of the cathedral
THE ORIGIN of a Christian church on the scite of the present cathedral, is supposed to have taken place as early as the Roman empire in Britain, for the use of the antient faithful and believing soldiers of their garrison here; and that Augustine found such a one standing here, adjoining to king Ethelbert's palace, which was included in the king's gift to him.
This supposition is founded on the records of the priory of Christ-church, (fn. 1) concurring with the common opinion of almost all our historians, who tell us of a church in Canterbury, which Augustine found standing in the east part of the city, which he had of king Ethelbert's gift, which after his consecration at Arles, in France, he commended by special dedication to the patronage of our blessed Saviour. (fn. 2)
According to others, the foundations only of an old church formerly built by the believing Romans, were left here, on which Augustine erected that, which he afterwards dedicated to out Saviour; (fn. 3) and indeed it is not probable that king Ethelbert should have suffered the unsightly ruins of a Christian church, which, being a Pagan, must have been very obnoxious to him, so close to his palace, and supposing these ruins had been here, would he not have suffered them to be repaired, rather than have obliged his Christian queen to travel daily to such a distance as St. Martin's church, or St. Pancrace's chapel, for the performance of her devotions.
Some indeed have conjectured that the church found by St. Augustine, in the east part of the city, was that of St.Martin, truly so situated; and urge in favor of it, that there have not been at any time any remains of British or Roman bricks discovered scattered in or about this church of our Saviour, those infallible, as Mr. Somner stiles them, signs of antiquity, and so generally found in buildings, which have been erected on, or close to the spot where more antient ones have stood. But to proceed, king Ethelbert's donation to Augustine was made in the year 596, who immediately afterwards went over to France, and was consecrated a bishop at Arles, and after his return, as soon as he had sufficiently finished a church here, whether built out of ruins or anew, it matters not, he exercised his episcopal function in the dedication of it, says the register of Christ-church, to the honor of Christ our Saviour; whence it afterwards obtained the name of Christ-church. (fn. 4)
From the time of Augustine for the space of upwards of three hundred years, there is not found in any printed or manuscript chronicle, the least mention of the fabric of this church, so that it is probable nothing befell it worthy of being recorded; however it should be mentioned, that during that period the revenues of it were much increased, for in the leiger books of it there are registered more than fifty donations of manors, lands, &c. so large and bountiful, as became the munificence of kings and nobles to confer. (fn. 5)
It is supposed, especially as we find no mention made of any thing to the contrary, that the fabric of this church for two hundred years after Augustine's time, met with no considerable molestations; but afterwards, the frequent invasions of the Danes involved both the civil and ecclesiastical state of this country in continual troubles and dangers; in the confusion of which, this church appears to have run into a state of decay; for when Odo was promoted to the archbishopric, in the year 938, the roof of it was in a ruinous condition; age had impaired it, and neglect had made it extremely dangerous; the walls of it were of an uneven height, according as it had been more or less decayed, and the roof of the church seemed ready to fall down on the heads of those underneath. All this the archbishop undertook to repair, and then covered the whole church with lead; to finish which, it took three years, as Osbern tells us, in the life of Odo; (fn. 6) and further, that there was not to be found a church of so large a size, capable of containing so great a multitude of people, and thus, perhaps, it continued without any material change happening to it, till the year 1011; a dismal and fatal year to this church and city; a time of unspeakable confusion and calamities; for in the month of September that year, the Danes, after a siege of twenty days, entered this city by force, burnt the houses, made a lamentable slaughter of the inhabitants, rifled this church, and then set it on fire, insomuch, that the lead with which archbishop Odo had covered it, being melted, ran down on those who were underneath. The sull story of this calamity is given by Osbern, in the life of archbishop Odo, an abridgement of which the reader will find below. (fn. 7)
The church now lay in ruins, without a roof, the bare walls only standing, and in this desolate condition it remained as long as the fury of the Danes prevailed, who after they had burnt the church, carried away archbishop Alphage with them, kept him in prison seven months, and then put him to death, in the year 1012, the year after which Living, or Livingus, succeeded him as archbishop, though it was rather in his calamities than in his seat of dignity, for he too was chained up by the Danes in a loathsome dungeon for seven months, before he was set free, but he so sensibly felt the deplorable state of this country, which he foresaw was every day growing worse and worse, that by a voluntary exile, he withdrew himself out of the nation, to find some solitary retirement, where he might bewail those desolations of his country, to which he was not able to bring any relief, but by his continual prayers. (fn. 8) He just outlived this storm, returned into England, and before he died saw peace and quientness restored to this land by king Canute, who gaining to himself the sole sovereignty over the nation, made it his first business to repair the injuries which had been done to the churches and monasteries in this kingdom, by his father's and his own wars. (fn. 9)
As for this church, archbishop Ægelnoth, who presided over it from the year 1020 to the year 1038, began and finished the repair, or rather the rebuilding of it, assisted in it by the royal munificence of the king, (fn. 10) who in 1023 presented his crown of gold to this church, and restored to it the port of Sandwich, with its liberties. (fn. 11) Notwithstanding this, in less than forty years afterwards, when Lanfranc soon after the Norman conquest came to the see, he found this church reduced almost to nothing by fire, and dilapidations; for Eadmer says, it had been consumed by a third conflagration, prior to the year of his advancement to it, in which fire almost all the antient records of the privileges of it had perished. (fn. 12)
The same writer has given us a description of this old church, as it was before Lanfranc came to the see; by which we learn, that at the east end there was an altar adjoining to the wall of the church, of rough unhewn stone, cemented with mortar, erected by archbishop Odo, for a repository of the body of Wilfrid, archbishop of York, which Odo had translated from Rippon hither, giving it here the highest place; at a convenient distance from this, westward, there was another altar, dedicated to Christ our Saviour, at which divine service was daily celebrated. In this altar was inclosed the head of St. Swithin, with many other relics, which archbishop Alphage brought with him from Winchester. Passing from this altar westward, many steps led down to the choir and nave, which were both even, or upon the same level. At the bottom of the steps, there was a passage into the undercroft, under all the east part of the church. (fn. 13) At the east end of which, was an altar, in which was inclosed, according to old tradition, the head of St. Furseus. From hence by a winding passage, at the west end of it, was the tomb of St. Dunstan, (fn. 14) but separated from the undercroft by a strong stone wall; over the tomb was erected a monument, pyramid wife, and at the head of it an altar, (fn. 15) for the mattin service. Between these steps, or passage into the undercroft and the nave, was the choir, (fn. 16) which was separated from the nave by a fair and decent partition, to keep off the crowds of people that usually were in the body of the church, so that the singing of the chanters in the choir might not be disturbed. About the middle of the length of the nave, were two towers or steeples, built without the walls; one on the south, and the other on the north side. In the former was the altar of St. Gregory, where was an entrance into the church by the south door, and where law controversies and pleas concerning secular matters were exercised. (fn. 17) In the latter, or north tower, was a passage for the monks into the church, from the monastery; here were the cloysters, where the novices were instructed in their religious rules and offices, and where the monks conversed together. In this tower was the altar of St. Martin. At the west end of the church was a chapel, dedicated to the blessed Virgin Mary, to which there was an ascent by steps, and at the east end of it an altar, dedicated to her, in which was inclosed the head of St. Astroburta the Virgin; and at the western part of it was the archbishop's pontifical chair, made of large stones, compacted together with mortar; a fair piece of work, and placed at a convenient distance from the altar, close to the wall of the church. (fn. 18)
To return now to archbishop Lanfranc, who was sent for from Normandy in 1073, being the fourth year of the Conqueror's reign, to fill this see, a time, when a man of a noble spirit, equal to the laborious task he was to undertake, was wanting especially for this church; and that he was such, the several great works which were performed by him, were incontestable proofs, as well as of his great and generous mind. At the first sight of the ruinous condition of this church, says the historian, the archbishop was struck with astonishment, and almost despaired of seeing that and the monastery re edified; but his care and perseverance raised both in all its parts anew, and that in a novel and more magnificent kind and form of structure, than had been hardly in any place before made use of in this kingdom, which made it a precedent and pattern to succeeding structures of this kind; (fn. 19) and new monasteries and churches were built after the example of it; for it should be observed, that before the coming of the Normans most of the churches and monasteries in this kingdom were of wood; (all the monasteries in my realm, says king Edgar, in his charter to the abbey of Malmesbury, dated anno 974, to the outward sight are nothing but worm-eaten and rotten timber and boards) but after the Norman conquest, such timber fabrics grew out of use, and gave place to stone buildings raised upon arches; a form of structure introduced into general use by that nation, and in these parts surnished with stone from Caen, in Normandy. (fn. 20) After this fashion archbishop Lanfranc rebuilt the whole church from the foundation, with the palace and monastery, the wall which encompassed the court, and all the offices belonging to the monastery within the wall, finishing the whole nearly within the compass of seven years; (fn. 21) besides which, he furnished the church with ornaments and rich vestments; after which, the whole being perfected, he altered the name of it, by a dedication of it to the Holy Trinity; whereas, before it was called the church of our Saviour, or Christ-church, and from the above time it bore (as by Domesday book appears) the name of the church of the Holy Trinity; this new church being built on the same spot on which the antient one stood, though on a far different model.
After Lanfranc's death, archbishop Anselm succeeded in the year 1093, to the see of Canterbury, and must be esteemed a principal benefactor to this church; for though his time was perplexed with a continued series of troubles, of which both banishment and poverty made no small part, which in a great measure prevented him from bestowing that cost on his church, which he would otherwise have done, yet it was through his patronage and protection, and through his care and persuasions, that the fabric of it, begun and perfected by his predecessor, became enlarged and rose to still greater splendor. (fn. 22)
In order to carry this forward, upon the vacancy of the priory, he constituted Ernulph and Conrad, the first in 1104, the latter in 1108, priors of this church; to whose care, being men of generous and noble minds, and of singular skill in these matters, he, during his troubles, not only committed the management of this work, but of all his other concerns during his absence.
Probably archbishop Anselm, on being recalled from banishment on king Henry's accession to the throne, had pulled down that part of the church built by Lanfranc, from the great tower in the middle of it to the east end, intending to rebuild it upon a still larger and more magnificent plan; when being borne down by the king's displeasure, he intrusted prior Ernulph with the work, who raised up the building with such splendor, says Malmesbury, that the like was not to be seen in all England; (fn. 23) but the short time Ernulph continued in this office did not permit him to see his undertaking finished. (fn. 24) This was left to his successor Conrad, who, as the obituary of Christ church informs us, by his great industry, magnificently perfected the choir, which his predecessor had left unfinished, (fn. 25) adorning it with curious pictures, and enriching it with many precious ornaments. (fn. 26)
This great undertaking was not entirely compleated at the death of archbishop Anselm, which happened in 1109, anno 9 Henry I. nor indeed for the space of five years afterwards, during which the see of Canterbury continued vacant; when being finished, in honour of its builder, and on account of its more than ordinary beauty, it gained the name of the glorious choir of Conrad. (fn. 27)
After the see of Canterbury had continued thus vacant for five years, Ralph, or as some call him, Rodulph, bishop of Rochester, was translated to it in the year 1114, at whose coming to it, the church was dedicated anew to the Holy Trinity, the name which had been before given to it by Lanfranc. (fn. 28) The only particular description we have of this church when thus finished, is from Gervas, the monk of this monastery, and that proves imperfect, as to the choir of Lanfranc, which had been taken down soon after his death; (fn. 29) the following is his account of the nave, or western part of it below the choir, being that which had been erected by archbishop Lanfranc, as has been before mentioned. From him we learn, that the west end, where the chapel of the Virgin Mary stood before, was now adorned with two stately towers, on the top of which were gilded pinnacles. The nave or body was supported by eight pair of pillars. At the east end of the nave, on the north side, was an oratory, dedicated in honor to the blessed Virgin, in lieu, I suppose, of the chapel, that had in the former church been dedicated to her at the west end. Between the nave and the choir there was built a great tower or steeple, as it were in the centre of the whole fabric; (fn. 30) under this tower was erected the altar of the Holy Cross; over a partition, which separated this tower from the nave, a beam was laid across from one side to the other of the church; upon the middle of this beam was fixed a great cross, between the images of the Virgin Mary and St. John, and between two cherubims. The pinnacle on the top of this tower, was a gilded cherub, and hence it was called the angel steeple; a name it is frequently called by at this day. (fn. 31)
This great tower had on each side a cross isle, called the north and south wings, which were uniform, of the same model and dimensions; each of them had a strong pillar in the middle for a support to the roof, and each of them had two doors or passages, by which an entrance was open to the east parts of the church. At one of these doors there was a descent by a few steps into the undercroft; at the other, there was an ascent by many steps into the upper parts of the church, that is, the choir, and the isles on each side of it. Near every one of these doors or passages, an altar was erected; at the upper door in the south wing, there was an altar in honour of All Saints; and at the lower door there was one of St. Michael; and before this altar on the south side was buried archbishop Fleologild; and on the north side, the holy Virgin Siburgis, whom St. Dunstan highly admired for her sanctity. In the north isle, by the upper door, was the altar of St. Blaze; and by the lower door, that of St. Benedict. In this wing had been interred four archbishops, Adelm and Ceolnoth, behind the altar, and Egelnoth and Wlfelm before it. At the entrance into this wing, Rodulph and his successor William Corboil, both archbishops, were buried. (fn. 32)
Hence, he continues, we go up by some steps into the great tower, and before us there is a door and steps leading down into the south wing, and on the right hand a pair of folding doors, with stairs going down into the nave of the church; but without turning to any of these, let us ascend eastward, till by several more steps we come to the west end of Conrad's choir; being now at the entrance of the choir, Gervas tells us, that he neither saw the choir built by Lanfranc, nor found it described by any one; that Eadmer had made mention of it, without giving any account of it, as he had done of the old church, the reason of which appears to be, that Lanfranc's choir did not long survive its founder, being pulled down as before-mentioned, by archbishop Anselm; so that it could not stand more than twenty years; therefore the want of a particular description of it will appear no great defect in the history of this church, especially as the deficiency is here supplied by Gervas's full relation of the new choir of Conrad, built instead of it; of which, whoever desires to know the whole architecture and model observed in the fabric, the order, number, height and form of the pillars and windows, may know the whole of it from him. The roof of it, he tells us, (fn. 33) was beautified with curious paintings representing heaven; (fn. 34) in several respects it was agreeable to the present choir, the stalls were large and framed of carved wood. In the middle of it, there hung a gilded crown, on which were placed four and twenty tapers of wax. From the choir an ascent of three steps led to the presbiterium, or place for the presbiters; here, he says, it would be proper to stop a little and take notice of the high altar, which was dedicated to the name of CHRIST. It was placed between two other altars, the one of St. Dunstan, the other of St. Alphage; at the east corners of the high altar were fixed two pillars of wood, beautified with silver and gold; upon these pillars was placed a beam, adorned with gold, which reached across the church, upon it there were placed the glory, (fn. 35) the images of St. Dunstan and St. Alphage, and seven chests or coffers overlaid with gold, full of the relics of many saints. Between those pillars was a cross gilded all over, and upon the upper beam of the cross were set sixty bright crystals.
Beyond this, by an ascent of eight steps towards the east, behind the altar, was the archiepiscopal throne, which Gervas calls the patriarchal chair, made of one stone; in this chair, according to the custom of the church, the archbishop used to sit, upon principal festivals, in his pontifical ornaments, whilst the solemn offices of religion were celebrated, until the consecration of the host, when he came down to the high altar, and there performed the solemnity of consecration. Still further, eastward, behind the patriarchal chair, (fn. 36) was a chapel in the front of the whole church, in which was an altar, dedicated to the Holy Trinity; behind which were laid the bones of two archbishops, Odo of Canterbury, and Wilfrid of York; by this chapel on the south side near the wall of the church, was laid the body of archbishop Lanfranc, and on the north side, the body of archbishop Theobald. Here it is to be observed, that under the whole east part of the church, from the angel steeple, there was an undercrost or crypt, (fn. 37) in which were several altars, chapels and sepulchres; under the chapel of the Trinity before-mentioned, were two altars, on the south side, the altar of St. Augustine, the apostle of the English nation, by which archbishop Athelred was interred. On the north side was the altar of St. John Baptist, by which was laid the body of archbishop Eadsin; under the high altar was the chapel and altar of the blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the whole undercroft was dedicated.
To return now, he continues, to the place where the bresbyterium and choir meet, where on each side there was a cross isle (as was to be seen in his time) which might be called the upper south and north wings; on the east side of each of these wings were two half circular recesses or nooks in the wall, arched over after the form of porticoes. Each of them had an altar, and there was the like number of altars under them in the crost. In the north wing, the north portico had the altar of St. Martin, by which were interred the bodies of two archbishops, Wlfred on the right, and Living on the left hand; under it in the croft, was the altar of St. Mary Magdalen. The other portico in this wing, had the altar of St. Stephen, and by it were buried two archbishops, Athelard on the left hand, and Cuthbert on the right; in the croft under it, was the altar of St. Nicholas. In the south wing, the north portico had the altar of St. John the Evangelist, and by it the bodies of Æthelgar and Aluric, archbishops, were laid. In the croft under it was the altar of St. Paulinus, by which the body of archbishop Siricius was interred. In the south portico was the altar of St. Gregory, by which were laid the corps of the two archbishops Bregwin and Plegmund. In the croft under it was the altar of St. Owen, archbishop of Roan, and underneath in the croft, not far from it the altar of St. Catherine.
Passing from these cross isles eastward there were two towers, one on the north, the other on the south side of the church. In the tower on the north side was the altar of St. Andrew, which gave name to the tower; under it, in the croft, was the altar of the Holy Innocents; the tower on the south side had the altar of St. Peter and St. Paul, behind which the body of St. Anselm was interred, which afterwards gave name both to the altar and tower (fn. 38) (now called St. Anselm's). The wings or isles on each side of the choir had nothing in particular to be taken notice of.— Thus far Gervas, from whose description we in particular learn, where several of the bodies of the old archbishops were deposited, and probably the ashes of some of them remain in the same places to this day.
As this building, deservedly called the glorious choir of Conrad, was a magnificent work, so the undertaking of it at that time will appear almost beyond example, especially when the several circumstances of it are considered; but that it was carried forward at the archbishop's cost, exceeds all belief. It was in the discouraging reign of king William Rufus, a prince notorious in the records of history, for all manner of sacrilegious rapine, that archbishop Anselm was promoted to this see; when he found the lands and revenues of this church so miserably wasted and spoiled, that there was hardly enough left for his bare subsistence; who, in the first years that he sat in the archiepiscopal chair, struggled with poverty, wants and continual vexations through the king's displeasure, (fn. 39) and whose three next years were spent in banishment, during all which time he borrowed money for his present maintenance; who being called home by king Henry I. at his coming to the crown, laboured to pay the debts he had contracted during the time of his banishment, and instead of enjoying that tranquility and ease he hoped for, was, within two years afterwards, again sent into banishment upon a fresh displeasure conceived against him by the king, who then seized upon all the revenues of the archbishopric, (fn. 40) which he retained in his own hands for no less than four years.
Under these hard circumstances, it would have been surprizing indeed, that the archbishop should have been able to carry on so great a work, and yet we are told it, as a truth, by the testimonies of history; but this must surely be understood with the interpretation of his having been the patron, protector and encourager, rather than the builder of this work, which he entrusted to the care and management of the priors Ernulph and Conrad, and sanctioned their employing, as Lanfranc had done before, the revenues and stock of the church to this use. (fn. 41)
In this state as above-mentioned, without any thing material happening to it, this church continued till about the year 1130, anno 30 Henry I. when it seems to have suffered some damage by a fire; (fn. 42) but how much, there is no record left to inform us; however it could not be of any great account, for it was sufficiently repaired, and that mostly at the cost of archbishop Corboil, who then sat in the chair of this see, (fn. 43) before the 4th of May that year, on which day, being Rogation Sunday, the bishops performed the dedication of it with great splendor and magnificence, such, says Gervas, col. 1664, as had not been heard of since the dedication of the temple of Solomon; the king, the queen, David, king of Scots, all the archbishops, and the nobility of both kingdoms being present at it, when this church's former name was restored again, being henceforward commonly called Christ-church. (fn. 44)
Among the manuscripts of Trinity college library, in Cambridge, in a very curious triple psalter of St. Jerome, in Latin, written by the monk Eadwyn, whose picture is at the beginning of it, is a plan or drawing made by him, being an attempt towards a representation of this church and monastery, as they stood between the years 1130 and 1174; which makes it probable, that he was one of the monks of it, and the more so, as the drawing has not any kind of relation to the plalter or sacred hymns contained in the manuscript.
His plan, if so it may be called, for it is neither such, nor an upright, nor a prospect, and yet something of all together; but notwithstanding this rudeness of the draftsman, it shews very plain that it was intended for this church and priory, and gives us a very clear knowledge, more than we have been able to learn from any description we have besides, of what both were at the above period of time. (fn. 45)
Forty-four years after this dedication, on the 5th of September, anno 1174, being the 20th year of king Henry II.'s reign, a fire happened, which consumed great part of this stately edifice, namely, the whole choir, from the angel steeple to the east end of the church, together with the prior's lodgings, the chapel of the Virgin Mary, the infirmary, and some other offices belonging to the monastery; but the angel steeple, the lower cross isles, and the nave appear to have received no material injury from the flames. (fn. 46) The narrative of this accident is told by Gervas, the monk of Canterbury, so often quoted before, who was an eye witness of this calamity, as follows:
Three small houses in the city near the old gate of the monastery took fire by accident, a strong south wind carried the flakes of fire to the top of the church, and lodged them between the joints of the lead, driving them to the timbers under it; this kindled a fire there, which was not discerned till the melted lead gave a free passage for the flames to appear above the church, and the wind gaining by this means a further power of increasing them, drove them inwardly, insomuch that the danger became immediately past all possibility of relief. The timber of the roof being all of it on fire, fell down into the choir, where the stalls of the manks, made of large pieces of carved wood, afforded plenty of fuel to the flames, and great part of the stone work, through the vehement heat of the fire, was so weakened, as to be brought to irreparable ruin, and besides the fabric itself, the many rich ornaments in the church were devoured by the flames.
The choir being thus laid in ashes, the monks removed from amidst the ruins, the bodies of the two saints, whom they called patrons of the church, the archbishops Dunstan and Alphage, and deposited them by the altar of the great cross, in the nave of the church; (fn. 47) and from this time they celebrated the daily religious offices in the oratory of the blessed Virgin Mary in the nave, and continued to do so for more than five years, when the choir being re edified, they returned to it again. (fn. 48)
Upon this destruction of the church, the prior and convent, without any delay, consulted on the most speedy and effectual method of rebuilding it, resolving to finish it in such a manner, as should surpass all the former choirs of it, as well in beauty as size and magnificence. To effect this, they sent for the most skilful architects that could be found either in France or England. These surveyed the walls and pillars, which remained standing, but they found great part of them so weakened by the fire, that they could no ways be built upon with any safety; and it was accordingly resolved, that such of them should be taken down; a whole year was spent in doing this, and in providing materials for the new building, for which they sent abroad for the best stone that could be procured; Gervas has given a large account, (fn. 49) how far this work advanced year by year; what methods and rules of architecture were observed, and other particulars relating to the rebuilding of this church; all which the curious reader may consult at his leisure; it will be sufficient to observe here, that the new building was larger in height and length, and more beautiful in every respect, than the choir of Conrad; for the roof was considerably advanced above what it was before, and was arched over with stone; whereas before it was composed of timber and boards. The capitals of the pillars were now beautified with different sculptures of carvework; whereas, they were before plain, and six pillars more were added than there were before. The former choir had but one triforium, or inner gallery, but now there were two made round it, and one in each side isle and three in the cross isles; before, there were no marble pillars, but such were now added to it in abundance. In forwarding this great work, the monks had spent eight years, when they could proceed no further for want of money; but a fresh supply coming in from the offerings at St. Thomas's tomb, so much more than was necessary for perfecting the repair they were engaged in, as encouraged them to set about a more grand design, which was to pull down the eastern extremity of the church, with the small chapel of the Holy Trinity adjoining to it, and to erect upon a stately undercroft, a most magnificent one instead of it, equally lofty with the roof of the church, and making a part of it, which the former one did not, except by a door into it; but this new chapel, which was dedicated likewise to the Holy Trinity, was not finished till some time after the rest of the church; at the east end of this chapel another handsome one, though small, was afterwards erected at the extremity of the whole building, since called Becket's crown, on purpose for an altar and the reception of some part of his relics; (fn. 50) further mention of which will be made hereafter.
The eastern parts of this church, as Mr. Gostling observes, have the appearance of much greater antiquity than what is generally allowed to them; and indeed if we examine the outside walls and the cross wings on each side of the choir, it will appear, that the whole of them was not rebuilt at the time the choir was, and that great part of them was suffered to remain, though altered, added to, and adapted as far as could be, to the new building erected at that time; the traces of several circular windows and other openings, which were then stopped up, removed, or altered, still appearing on the walls both of the isles and the cross wings, through the white-wash with which they are covered; and on the south side of the south isle, the vaulting of the roof as well as the triforium, which could not be contrived so as to be adjusted to the places of the upper windows, plainly shew it. To which may be added, that the base or foot of one of the westernmost large pillars of the choir on the north side, is strengthened with a strong iron band round it, by which it should seem to have been one of those pillars which had been weakened by the fire, but was judged of sufficient firmness, with this precaution, to remain for the use of the new fabric.
The outside of this part of the church is a corroborating proof of what has been mentioned above, as well in the method, as in the ornaments of the building.— The outside of it towards the south, from St. Michael's chapel eastward, is adorned with a range of small pillars, about six inches diameter, and about three feet high, some with santastic shasts and capitals, others with plain ones; these support little arches, which intersect each other; and this chain or girdle of pillars is continued round the small tower, the eastern cross isle and the chapel of St. Anselm, to the buildings added in honour of the Holy Trinity, and St. Thomas Becket, where they leave off. The casing of St. Michael's chapel has none of them, but the chapel of the Virgin Mary, answering to it on the north side of the church, not being fitted to the wall, shews some of them behind it; which seems as if they had been continued before, quite round the eastern parts of the church.
These pillars, which rise from about the level of the pavement, within the walls above them, are remarkably plain and bare of ornaments; but the tower above mentioned and its opposite, as soon as they rise clear of the building, are enriched with stories of this colonade, one above another, up to the platform from whence their spires rise; and the remains of the two larger towers eastward, called St. Anselm's, and that answering to it on the north side of the church, called St. Andrew's are decorated much after the same manner, as high as they remain at present.
At the time of the before-mentioned fire, which so fatally destroyed the upper part of this church, the undercrost, with the vaulting over it, seems to have remained entire, and unhurt by it.
The vaulting of the undercrost, on which the floor of the choir and eastern parts of the church is raised, is supported by pillars, whose capitals are as various and fantastical as those of the smaller ones described before, and so are their shafts, some being round, others canted, twisted, or carved, so that hardly any two of them are alike, except such as are quite plain.
These, I suppose, may be concluded to be of the same age, and if buildings in the same stile may be conjectured to be so from thence, the antiquity of this part of the church may be judged, though historians have left us in the dark in relation to it.
In Leland's Collectanea, there is an account and description of a vault under the chancel of the antient church of St. Peter, in Oxford, called Grymbald's crypt, being allowed by all, to have been built by him; (fn. 51) Grymbald was one of those great and accomplished men, whom king Alfred invited into England about the year 885, to assist him in restoring Christianity, learning and the liberal arts. (fn. 52) Those who compare the vaults or undercrost of the church of Canterbury, with the description and prints given of Grymbald's crypt, (fn. 53) will easily perceive, that two buildings could hardly have been erected more strongly resembling each other, except that this at Canterbury is larger, and more pro fusely decorated with variety of fancied ornaments, the shafts of several of the pillars here being twisted, or otherwise varied, and many of the captials exactly in the same grotesque taste as those in Grymbald's crypt. (fn. 54) Hence it may be supposed, that those whom archbishop Lanfranc employed as architects and designers of his building at Canterbury, took their model of it, at least of this part of it, from that crypt, and this undercrost now remaining is the same, as was originally built by him, as far eastward, as to that part which begins under the chapel of the Holy Trinity, where it appears to be of a later date, erected at the same time as the chapel. The part built by Lanfranc continues at this time as firm and entire, as it was at the very building of it, though upwards of seven hundred years old. (fn. 55)
But to return to the new building; though the church was not compleatly finished till the end of the year 1184, yet it was so far advanced towards it, that, in 1180, on April 19, being Easter eve, (fn. 56) the archbishop, prior and monks entered the new choir, with a solemn procession, singing Te Deum, for their happy return to it. Three days before which they had privately, by night, carried the bodies of St. Dunstan and St. Alphage to the places prepared for them near the high altar. The body likewise of queen Edive (which after the fire had been removed from the north cross isle, where it lay before, under a stately gilded shrine) to the altar of the great cross, was taken up, carried into the vestry, and thence to the altar of St. Martin, where it was placed under the coffin of archbishop Livinge. In the month of July following the altar of the Holy Trinity was demolished, and the bodies of those archbishops, which had been laid in that part of the church, were removed to other places. Odo's body was laid under St. Dunstan's and Wilfrid's under St. Alphage's; Lanfranc's was deposited nigh the altar of St. Martin, and Theobald's at that of the blessed Virgin, in the nave of the church, (fn. 57) under a marble tomb; and soon afterwards the two archbishops, on the right and left hand of archbishop Becket in the undercrost, were taken up and placed under the altar of St. Mary there. (fn. 58)
After a warning so terrible, as had lately been given, it seemed most necessary to provide against the danger of fire for the time to come; the flames, which had so lately destroyed a considerable part of the church and monastery, were caused by some small houses, which had taken fire at a small distance from the church.— There still remained some other houses near it, which belonged to the abbot and convent of St. Augustine; for these the monks of Christ-church created, by an exchange, which could not be effected till the king interposed, and by his royal authority, in a manner, compelled the abbot and convent to a composition for this purpose, which was dated in the year 1177, that was three years after the late fire of this church. (fn. 59)
These houses were immediately pulled down, and it proved a providential and an effectual means of preserving the church from the like calamity; for in the year 1180, on May 22, this new choir, being not then compleated, though it had been used the month be fore, as has been already mentioned, there happened a fire in the city, which burnt down many houses, and the flames bent their course towards the church, which was again in great danger; but the houses near it being taken away, the fire was stopped, and the church escaped being burnt again. (fn. 60)
Although there is no mention of a new dedication of the church at this time, yet the change made in the name of it has been thought by some to imply a formal solemnity of this kind, as it appears to have been from henceforth usually called the church of St. Thomas the Martyr, and to have continued so for above 350 years afterwards.
New names to churches, it is true. have been usually attended by formal consecrations of them; and had there been any such solemnity here, undoubtedly the same would not have passed by unnoticed by every historian, the circumstance of it must have been notorious, and the magnificence equal at least to the other dedications of this church, which have been constantly mentioned by them; but here was no need of any such ceremony, for although the general voice then burst forth to honour this church with the name of St. Thomas, the universal object of praise and adoration, then stiled the glorious martyr, yet it reached no further, for the name it had received at the former dedication, notwithstanding this common appellation of it, still remained in reality, and it still retained invariably in all records and writings, the name of Christ church only, as appears by many such remaining among the archives of the dean and chapter; and though on the seal of this church, which was changed about this time; the counter side of it had a representation of Becket's martyrdom, yet on the front of it was continued that of the church, and round it an inscription with the former name of Christ church; which seal remained in force till the dissolution of the priory.
It may not be improper to mention here some transactions, worthy of observation, relating to this favorite saint, which passed from the time of his being murdered, to that of his translation to the splendid shrine prepared for his relics.
Archbishop Thomas Becket was barbarously murdered in this church on Dec. 29, 1170, being the 16th year of king Henry II. and his body was privately buried towards the east end of the undercrost. The monks tell us, that about the Easter following, miracles began to be wrought by him, first at his tomb, then in the undercrost, and in every part of the whole fabric of the church; afterwards throughout England, and lastly, throughout the rest of the world. (fn. 61) The same of these miracles procured him the honour of a formal canonization from pope Alexander III. whose bull for that purpose is dated March 13, in the year 1172. (fn. 62) This declaration of the pope was soon known in all places, and the reports of his miracles were every where sounded abroad. (fn. 63)
Hereupon crowds of zealots, led on by a phrenzy of devotion, hastened to kneel at his tomb. In 1177, Philip, earl of Flanders, came hither for that purpose, when king Henry met and had a conference with him at Canterbury. (fn. 64) In June 1178, king Henry returning from Normandy, visited the sepulchre of this new saint; and in July following, William, archbishop of Rhemes, came from France, with a large retinue, to perform his vows to St. Thomas of Canterbury, where the king met him and received him honourably. In the year 1179, Lewis, king of France, came into England; before which neither he nor any of his predecessors had ever set foot in this kingdom. (fn. 65) He landed at Dover, where king Henry waited his arrival, and on August 23, the two kings came to Canterbury, with a great train of nobility of both nations, and were received with due honour and great joy, by the archbishop, with his com-provincial bishops, and the prior and the whole convent. (fn. 66)
King Lewis came in the manner and habit of a pilgrim, and was conducted to the tomb of St. Thomas by a solemn procession; he there offered his cup of gold and a royal precious stone, (fn. 67) and gave the convent a yearly rent for ever, of a hundred muids of wine, to be paid by himself and his successors; which grant was confirmed by his royal charter, under his seal, and delivered next day to the convent; (fn. 68) after he had staid here two, (fn. 69) or as others say, three days, (fn. 70) during which the oblations of gold and silver made were so great, that the relation of them almost exceeded credibility. (fn. 71) In 1181, king Henry, in his return from Normandy, again paid his devotions at this tomb. These visits were the early fruits of the adoration of the new sainted martyr, and these royal examples of kings and great persons were followed by multitudes, who crowded to present with full hands their oblations at his tomb.— Hence the convent was enabled to carry forward the building of the new choir, and they applied all this vast income to the fabric of the church, as the present case instantly required, for which they had the leave and consent of the archbishop, confirmed by the bulls of several succeeding popes. (fn. 72)
¶From the liberal oblations of these royal and noble personages at the tomb of St. Thomas, the expences of rebuilding the choir appear to have been in a great measure supplied, nor did their devotion and offerings to the new saint, after it was compleated, any ways abate, but, on the contrary, they daily increased; for in the year 1184, Philip, archbishop of Cologne, and Philip, earl of Flanders, came together to pay their vows at this tomb, and were met here by king Henry, who gave them an invitation to London. (fn. 73) In 1194, John, archbishop of Lions; in the year afterwards, John, archbishop of York; and in the year 1199, king John, performed their devotions at the foot of this tomb. (fn. 74) King Richard I. likewise, on his release from captivity in Germany, landing on the 30th of March at Sandwich, proceeded from thence, as an humble stranger on foot, towards Canterbury, to return his grateful thanks to God and St. Thomas for his release. (fn. 75) All these by name, with many nobles and multitudes of others, of all sorts and descriptions, visited the saint with humble adoration and rich oblations, whilst his body lay in the undercrost. In the mean time the chapel and altar at the upper part of the east end of the church, which had been formerly consecrated to the Holy Trinity, were demolished, and again prepared with great splendor, for the reception of this saint, who being now placed there, implanted his name not only on the chapel and altar, but on the whole church, which was from thenceforth known only by that of the church of St. Thomas the martyr.
On July 7, anno 1220, the remains of St. Thomas were translated from his tomb to his new shrine, with the greatest solemnity and rejoicings. Pandulph, the pope's legate, the archbishops of Canterbury and Rheims, and many bishops and abbots, carried the coffin on their shoulders, and placed it on the new shrine, and the king graced these solemnities with his royal presence. (fn. 76) The archbishop of Canterbury provided forage along all the road, between London and Canterbury, for the horses of all such as should come to them, and he caused several pipes and conduits to run with wine in different parts of the city. This, with the other expences arising during the time, was so great, that he left a debt on the see, which archbishop Boniface, his fourth successor in it, was hardly enabled to discharge.
¶The saint being now placed in his new repository, became the vain object of adoration to the deluded people, and afterwards numbers of licences were granted to strangers by the king, to visit this shrine. (fn. 77) The titles of glorious, of saint and martyr, were among those given to him; (fn. 78) such veneration had all people for his relics, that the religious of several cathedral churches and monasteries, used all their endeavours to obtain some of them, and thought themselves happy and rich in the possession of the smallest portion of them. (fn. 79) Besides this, there were erected and dedicated to his honour, many churches, chapels, altars and hospitals in different places, both in this kingdom and abroad. (fn. 80) Thus this saint, even whilst he lay in his obscure tomb in the undercroft, brought such large and constant supplies of money, as enabled the monks to finish this beautiful choir, and the eastern parts of the church; and when he was translated to the most exalted and honourable place in it, a still larger abundance of gain filled their coffers, which continued as a plentiful supply to them, from year to year, to the time of the reformation, and the final abolition of the priory itself.
www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol11/pp306-383
A walk in Canterbury Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
The long, dark and empty days of COVID are behind us, and although the streets were not packed, there were groups following guides, and it felt normal.
The reason for being here was the first ever public opening of the Corona Tower and then the chance to climb the 87 steps to the roof, for panoramic views of the city and surrounding downs.
Just one tour a day, with limited numbers, so I wanted to make sure my name was on the list. I got to the cathedral at five past ten, and was indeed the first name on the list, though a decision on whether the rooftop visit would go ahead depended on the winds dropping.
I went round the cathedral one more time, rattling of a couple of hundred shots, going down the crypt and around the Apse.
A short walk away is St Paul Without, which was open. So I went in to take some shots, I think I was there a couple of years back and was recognised in the guise of my Facebook avatar and name.
At midday, or just past, I was at the door of the Thomas Backet pub for a swifter. The landlord's two dogs made me feel very welcome.
The sun had got out and was warm outside, so I stayed inside for a second beer, and then they put their new house ale on, Troublesome Priest, named after the curse of King John of Thomas Becket. Its a dark best bitter, and very drinkable.
Three pints in, I thought I had better stop and go to meet up with Jools. The cathedral called to let me know the tour was on, so all was good.
I booked a table at a BBQ place for later, bought Jools a cider as she was parched, whereas I was well hydrated.
At quarter to three, I walked back to the cathedral, and was entertained by a choir while I waited. Their voices filled the huge space of the Nave, spinetingling stuff.
At half three, I met the guide at the lectern in the Quire, five others joined in to. So, after introductions, we walked to the Chapel at the very east of the Cathedral.
The public can look in the chapel, but have never been allowed inside, so this was a rare chance.
We swapped stories and news, me pointing out that the guide should really go to Nackington to see the ancient glass there, glass that gives the cathedral a good run for its money with the oldest stained glass in the country.
Then, time to climb to to roof of the chapel. An ancient door was unlocked, and beyond, medieval steps, unworn by many feet, so looking almost new, lead up and round.
Two glass doors look out onto the Quire, but are left dirty so people don't linger on the stairs to look. So, up and up, round and round, until the steps straighten up and with one last double-height step, we were out on the roof.
Not the very top of the cathedral: the roof of the Chancel rose to the west, and the central tower behind that, and in the distance, the two western tower just showed.
We look down on the city: a party in the grounds of the posh school nearby, the hustle of the streets and shops, and beyond, ground rose on all sides to the north Downs.
For half an hour we lingered and soaked the warm in.
Time ran out, so back down. With the first huge step a doosie, but once over that, just round and round, down and down until we were back in the Chancel, with the last visitors of the day looking in surprise as we emerged from the cathedral walls.
A walk in Canterbury Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
The long, dark and empty days of COVID are behind us, and although the streets were not packed, there were groups following guides, and it felt normal.
The reason for being here was the first ever public opening of the Corona Tower and then the chance to climb the 87 steps to the roof, for panoramic views of the city and surrounding downs.
Just one tour a day, with limited numbers, so I wanted to make sure my name was on the list. I got to the cathedral at five past ten, and was indeed the first name on the list, though a decision on whether the rooftop visit would go ahead depended on the winds dropping.
I went round the cathedral one more time, rattling of a couple of hundred shots, going down the crypt and around the Apse.
A short walk away is St Paul Without, which was open. So I went in to take some shots, I think I was there a couple of years back and was recognised in the guise of my Facebook avatar and name.
At midday, or just past, I was at the door of the Thomas Backet pub for a swifter. The landlord's two dogs made me feel very welcome.
The sun had got out and was warm outside, so I stayed inside for a second beer, and then they put their new house ale on, Troublesome Priest, named after the curse of King John of Thomas Becket. Its a dark best bitter, and very drinkable.
Three pints in, I thought I had better stop and go to meet up with Jools. The cathedral called to let me know the tour was on, so all was good.
I booked a table at a BBQ place for later, bought Jools a cider as she was parched, whereas I was well hydrated.
At quarter to three, I walked back to the cathedral, and was entertained by a choir while I waited. Their voices filled the huge space of the Nave, spinetingling stuff.
At half three, I met the guide at the lectern in the Quire, five others joined in to. So, after introductions, we walked to the Chapel at the very east of the Cathedral.
The public can look in the chapel, but have never been allowed inside, so this was a rare chance.
We swapped stories and news, me pointing out that the guide should really go to Nackington to see the ancient glass there, glass that gives the cathedral a good run for its money with the oldest stained glass in the country.
Then, time to climb to to roof of the chapel. An ancient door was unlocked, and beyond, medieval steps, unworn by many feet, so looking almost new, lead up and round.
Two glass doors look out onto the Quire, but are left dirty so people don't linger on the stairs to look. So, up and up, round and round, until the steps straighten up and with one last double-height step, we were out on the roof.
Not the very top of the cathedral: the roof of the Chancel rose to the west, and the central tower behind that, and in the distance, the two western tower just showed.
We look down on the city: a party in the grounds of the posh school nearby, the hustle of the streets and shops, and beyond, ground rose on all sides to the north Downs.
For half an hour we lingered and soaked the warm in.
Time ran out, so back down. With the first huge step a doosie, but once over that, just round and round, down and down until we were back in the Chancel, with the last visitors of the day looking in surprise as we emerged from the cathedral walls.
A walk in Canterbury Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
The long, dark and empty days of COVID are behind us, and although the streets were not packed, there were groups following guides, and it felt normal.
The reason for being here was the first ever public opening of the Corona Tower and then the chance to climb the 87 steps to the roof, for panoramic views of the city and surrounding downs.
Just one tour a day, with limited numbers, so I wanted to make sure my name was on the list. I got to the cathedral at five past ten, and was indeed the first name on the list, though a decision on whether the rooftop visit would go ahead depended on the winds dropping.
I went round the cathedral one more time, rattling of a couple of hundred shots, going down the crypt and around the Apse.
A short walk away is St Paul Without, which was open. So I went in to take some shots, I think I was there a couple of years back and was recognised in the guise of my Facebook avatar and name.
At midday, or just past, I was at the door of the Thomas Backet pub for a swifter. The landlord's two dogs made me feel very welcome.
The sun had got out and was warm outside, so I stayed inside for a second beer, and then they put their new house ale on, Troublesome Priest, named after the curse of King John of Thomas Becket. Its a dark best bitter, and very drinkable.
Three pints in, I thought I had better stop and go to meet up with Jools. The cathedral called to let me know the tour was on, so all was good.
I booked a table at a BBQ place for later, bought Jools a cider as she was parched, whereas I was well hydrated.
At quarter to three, I walked back to the cathedral, and was entertained by a choir while I waited. Their voices filled the huge space of the Nave, spinetingling stuff.
At half three, I met the guide at the lectern in the Quire, five others joined in to. So, after introductions, we walked to the Chapel at the very east of the Cathedral.
The public can look in the chapel, but have never been allowed inside, so this was a rare chance.
We swapped stories and news, me pointing out that the guide should really go to Nackington to see the ancient glass there, glass that gives the cathedral a good run for its money with the oldest stained glass in the country.
Then, time to climb to to roof of the chapel. An ancient door was unlocked, and beyond, medieval steps, unworn by many feet, so looking almost new, lead up and round.
Two glass doors look out onto the Quire, but are left dirty so people don't linger on the stairs to look. So, up and up, round and round, until the steps straighten up and with one last double-height step, we were out on the roof.
Not the very top of the cathedral: the roof of the Chancel rose to the west, and the central tower behind that, and in the distance, the two western tower just showed.
We look down on the city: a party in the grounds of the posh school nearby, the hustle of the streets and shops, and beyond, ground rose on all sides to the north Downs.
For half an hour we lingered and soaked the warm in.
Time ran out, so back down. With the first huge step a doosie, but once over that, just round and round, down and down until we were back in the Chancel, with the last visitors of the day looking in surprise as we emerged from the cathedral walls.
A walk in Canterbury Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
The long, dark and empty days of COVID are behind us, and although the streets were not packed, there were groups following guides, and it felt normal.
The reason for being here was the first ever public opening of the Corona Tower and then the chance to climb the 87 steps to the roof, for panoramic views of the city and surrounding downs.
Just one tour a day, with limited numbers, so I wanted to make sure my name was on the list. I got to the cathedral at five past ten, and was indeed the first name on the list, though a decision on whether the rooftop visit would go ahead depended on the winds dropping.
I went round the cathedral one more time, rattling of a couple of hundred shots, going down the crypt and around the Apse.
A short walk away is St Paul Without, which was open. So I went in to take some shots, I think I was there a couple of years back and was recognised in the guise of my Facebook avatar and name.
At midday, or just past, I was at the door of the Thomas Backet pub for a swifter. The landlord's two dogs made me feel very welcome.
The sun had got out and was warm outside, so I stayed inside for a second beer, and then they put their new house ale on, Troublesome Priest, named after the curse of King John of Thomas Becket. Its a dark best bitter, and very drinkable.
Three pints in, I thought I had better stop and go to meet up with Jools. The cathedral called to let me know the tour was on, so all was good.
I booked a table at a BBQ place for later, bought Jools a cider as she was parched, whereas I was well hydrated.
At quarter to three, I walked back to the cathedral, and was entertained by a choir while I waited. Their voices filled the huge space of the Nave, spinetingling stuff.
At half three, I met the guide at the lectern in the Quire, five others joined in to. So, after introductions, we walked to the Chapel at the very east of the Cathedral.
The public can look in the chapel, but have never been allowed inside, so this was a rare chance.
We swapped stories and news, me pointing out that the guide should really go to Nackington to see the ancient glass there, glass that gives the cathedral a good run for its money with the oldest stained glass in the country.
Then, time to climb to to roof of the chapel. An ancient door was unlocked, and beyond, medieval steps, unworn by many feet, so looking almost new, lead up and round.
Two glass doors look out onto the Quire, but are left dirty so people don't linger on the stairs to look. So, up and up, round and round, until the steps straighten up and with one last double-height step, we were out on the roof.
Not the very top of the cathedral: the roof of the Chancel rose to the west, and the central tower behind that, and in the distance, the two western tower just showed.
We look down on the city: a party in the grounds of the posh school nearby, the hustle of the streets and shops, and beyond, ground rose on all sides to the north Downs.
For half an hour we lingered and soaked the warm in.
Time ran out, so back down. With the first huge step a doosie, but once over that, just round and round, down and down until we were back in the Chancel, with the last visitors of the day looking in surprise as we emerged from the cathedral walls.
Jools was in the Thomas Becket, as was my colleague Peter. They were two beers up on me. Or Peter was. Jools would be driving, so she had the one cider.
The pub is city centre, but down a side street, so is good, but quieter than it might otherwise be. And their beer is good, which helps, and the food, if you eat there, very good indeed.
We talk for an hour, then walk to the smokehouse, which turned out not to be a smokehouse, but a fast food place, opposite the grand entrance to King's School. They di platters for us, and was pretty good, and not too pricey either.
Then back to the Thomas Becket for "one last beer", and more chatting.
Jools lead me to the car, as my health app ticked over 18,000 steps. I was pooped and ready to go home for a cuppa before bed.
The city was just waking up, as bright and beautiful young things tumbled out of cars for a night in the clubs and bars, just beginning their fun just as we were finishing up.
Out through Windcheap and onto the A2, a cruise in the gloaming back to Dover.
Needless to say, the cats were very pleased/annoyed to see us just after nine. So we fed them, fussed over them. Jools made a brew and I checked my shots, charged the battery ready for Saturday and another fine day out planned.
A walk in Canterbury Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
The long, dark and empty days of COVID are behind us, and although the streets were not packed, there were groups following guides, and it felt normal.
The reason for being here was the first ever public opening of the Corona Tower and then the chance to climb the 87 steps to the roof, for panoramic views of the city and surrounding downs.
Just one tour a day, with limited numbers, so I wanted to make sure my name was on the list. I got to the cathedral at five past ten, and was indeed the first name on the list, though a decision on whether the rooftop visit would go ahead depended on the winds dropping.
I went round the cathedral one more time, rattling of a couple of hundred shots, going down the crypt and around the Apse.
A short walk away is St Paul Without, which was open. So I went in to take some shots, I think I was there a couple of years back and was recognised in the guise of my Facebook avatar and name.
At midday, or just past, I was at the door of the Thomas Backet pub for a swifter. The landlord's two dogs made me feel very welcome.
The sun had got out and was warm outside, so I stayed inside for a second beer, and then they put their new house ale on, Troublesome Priest, named after the curse of King John of Thomas Becket. Its a dark best bitter, and very drinkable.
Three pints in, I thought I had better stop and go to meet up with Jools. The cathedral called to let me know the tour was on, so all was good.
I booked a table at a BBQ place for later, bought Jools a cider as she was parched, whereas I was well hydrated.
At quarter to three, I walked back to the cathedral, and was entertained by a choir while I waited. Their voices filled the huge space of the Nave, spinetingling stuff.
At half three, I met the guide at the lectern in the Quire, five others joined in to. So, after introductions, we walked to the Chapel at the very east of the Cathedral.
The public can look in the chapel, but have never been allowed inside, so this was a rare chance.
We swapped stories and news, me pointing out that the guide should really go to Nackington to see the ancient glass there, glass that gives the cathedral a good run for its money with the oldest stained glass in the country.
Then, time to climb to to roof of the chapel. An ancient door was unlocked, and beyond, medieval steps, unworn by many feet, so looking almost new, lead up and round.
Two glass doors look out onto the Quire, but are left dirty so people don't linger on the stairs to look. So, up and up, round and round, until the steps straighten up and with one last double-height step, we were out on the roof.
Not the very top of the cathedral: the roof of the Chancel rose to the west, and the central tower behind that, and in the distance, the two western tower just showed.
We look down on the city: a party in the grounds of the posh school nearby, the hustle of the streets and shops, and beyond, ground rose on all sides to the north Downs.
For half an hour we lingered and soaked the warm in.
Time ran out, so back down. With the first huge step a doosie, but once over that, just round and round, down and down until we were back in the Chancel, with the last visitors of the day looking in surprise as we emerged from the cathedral walls.
Dover to Canterbury: the long way round Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
Dover to Canterbury: the long way round Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
Dover to Canterbury: the long way round Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
The long, dark and empty days of COVID are behind us, and although the streets were not packed, there were groups following guides, and it felt normal.
The reason for being here was the first ever public opening of the Corona Tower and then the chance to climb the 87 steps to the roof, for panoramic views of the city and surrounding downs.
Just one tour a day, with limited numbers, so I wanted to make sure my name was on the list. I got to the cathedral at five past ten, and was indeed the first name on the list, though a decision on whether the rooftop visit would go ahead depended on the winds dropping.
I went round the cathedral one more time, rattling of a couple of hundred shots, going down the crypt and around the Apse.
A short walk away is St Paul Without, which was open. So I went in to take some shots, I think I was there a couple of years back and was recognised in the guise of my Facebook avatar and name.
At midday, or just past, I was at the door of the Thomas Backet pub for a swifter. The landlord's two dogs made me feel very welcome.
The sun had got out and was warm outside, so I stayed inside for a second beer, and then they put their new house ale on, Troublesome Priest, named after the curse of King John of Thomas Becket. Its a dark best bitter, and very drinkable.
Three pints in, I thought I had better stop and go to meet up with Jools. The cathedral called to let me know the tour was on, so all was good.
I booked a table at a BBQ place for later, bought Jools a cider as she was parched, whereas I was well hydrated.
At quarter to three, I walked back to the cathedral, and was entertained by a choir while I waited. Their voices filled the huge space of the Nave, spinetingling stuff.
At half three, I met the guide at the lectern in the Quire, five others joined in to. So, after introductions, we walked to the Chapel at the very east of the Cathedral.
The public can look in the chapel, but have never been allowed inside, so this was a rare chance.
We swapped stories and news, me pointing out that the guide should really go to Nackington to see the ancient glass there, glass that gives the cathedral a good run for its money with the oldest stained glass in the country.
Then, time to climb to to roof of the chapel. An ancient door was unlocked, and beyond, medieval steps, unworn by many feet, so looking almost new, lead up and round.
Two glass doors look out onto the Quire, but are left dirty so people don't linger on the stairs to look. So, up and up, round and round, until the steps straighten up and with one last double-height step, we were out on the roof.
Not the very top of the cathedral: the roof of the Chancel rose to the west, and the central tower behind that, and in the distance, the two western tower just showed.
We look down on the city: a party in the grounds of the posh school nearby, the hustle of the streets and shops, and beyond, ground rose on all sides to the north Downs.
For half an hour we lingered and soaked the warm in.
Time ran out, so back down. With the first huge step a doosie, but once over that, just round and round, down and down until we were back in the Chancel, with the last visitors of the day looking in surprise as we emerged from the cathedral walls.
Dover to Canterbury: the long way round Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
Dover to Canterbury: the long way round Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
Dover to Canterbury: the long way round Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
Preserved - OJD903R; Scottish Vintage Bus Museum, Lathalmond; 18-08-2024 Chassis type/no: Leyland National 10351A/2R - 04497
Seating: B36D
New to London Transport (LS103) in August 1977. After withdrawal in September 1990c it passed Port of Ramsgate (2) in November 1990 for use as a courtesy bus. Then to Easton, Ramsgate, (2) in May 1994 before purchase by Ensignbus Ltd (509) in August 1998. Entered preservation in April 1999 and now restored to original condition.
Preserved - OJD903R; Scottish Vintage Bus Museum, Lathalmond; 18-08-2024 Chassis type/no: Leyland National 10351A/2R - 04497
Seating: B36D
New to London Transport (LS103) in August 1977. After withdrawal in September 1990c it passed Port of Ramsgate (2) in November 1990 for use as a courtesy bus. Then to Easton, Ramsgate, (2) in May 1994 before purchase by Ensignbus Ltd (509) in August 1998. Entered preservation in April 1999 and now restored to original condition.
Unrebuilt 'Battle of Britain' 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere' at Leeds with 1Z67, 09:28 York to Carlisle - 'The Waverley' 18th August, 2024.
Leeds, Platform 12
'Battle of Britain' Class 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere'. Built by Southern Railway at Brighton Works, 1947, New to Ramsgate, withdrawn 1963 from Exmouth Jctn.
Unrebuilt 'Battle of Britain' 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere' at Leeds with 1Z67, 09:28 York to Carlisle - 'The Waverley' 18th August, 2024.
Leeds, Platform 12
'Battle of Britain' Class 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere'. Built by Southern Railway at Brighton Works, 1947, New to Ramsgate, withdrawn 1963 from Exmouth Jctn.
Unrebuilt 'Battle of Britain' 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere' at Leeds with 1Z67, 09:28 York to Carlisle - 'The Waverley' 18th August, 2024.
Leeds, Platform 12
'Battle of Britain' Class 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere'. Built by Southern Railway at Brighton Works, 1947, New to Ramsgate, withdrawn 1963 from Exmouth Jctn.
Unrebuilt 'Battle of Britain' 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere' at Leeds with 1Z67, 09:28 York to Carlisle - 'The Waverley' 18th August, 2024.
Leeds, Platform 12
'Battle of Britain' Class 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere'. Built by Southern Railway at Brighton Works, 1947, New to Ramsgate, withdrawn 1963 from Exmouth Jctn.
Unrebuilt 'Battle of Britain' 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere' at Leeds with 1Z67, 09:28 York to Carlisle - 'The Waverley' 18th August, 2024.
Leeds, Platform 12
'Battle of Britain' Class 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere'. Built by Southern Railway at Brighton Works, 1947, New to Ramsgate, withdrawn 1963 from Exmouth Jctn.
Unrebuilt 'Battle of Britain' 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere' at Leeds with 1Z67, 09:28 York to Carlisle - 'The Waverley' 18th August, 2024.
Leeds, Platform 12
'Battle of Britain' Class 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere'. Built by Southern Railway at Brighton Works, 1947, New to Ramsgate, withdrawn 1963 from Exmouth Jctn.
Unrebuilt 'Battle of Britain' 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere' at Leeds with 1Z67, 09:28 York to Carlisle - 'The Waverley' 18th August, 2024.
Leeds, Platform 12
'Battle of Britain' Class 4-6-2, 34067 'Tangmere'. Built by Southern Railway at Brighton Works, 1947, New to Ramsgate, withdrawn 1963 from Exmouth Jctn.
P1230101 King George V park Ramsgate Kent Uk