CHAPTER II

HISTORY OF THE CHURCH

Before coming to the more immediate history of St. Martin's Church, we must say a few words about the Roman occupation of Canterbury, and the events preceding the landing of St. Augustine.

The city is mentioned in the second "iter" of Antonine's Itinerary, under its ancient name of Durovernum or Duroverno, a word supposed to be compounded of _dour_, "water," and _vern_, which has been variously interpreted to mean "temple," "marshes," or "alders."

Its position is described as fifty-two miles distant from London, fourteen from Dover, sixteen from Lympne, and twelve from Richborough; and the road from London to each of these last-named places divided itself at this point into three, crossing the ford of the River Stour, so that it would be a natural station for troops on the march.

The Egyptian geographer, Ptolemy, apparently writing about the middle of the second century, gives Dur[)e]num as one of the three cities of the Cantii; while in the fragmentary map known as the _Tabula Peutingerii_ (called so from Conrad Peutinger, in whose library it was found, and supposed to have been compiled about the time of the Emperor Theodosius the younger) it is put down as "Buroaverus," evidently a corruption of copyists, with the conventional mark usually attached to a city or fortress of considerable size.

Horsley, in his _Britannia Romana_, suggests that Canterbury was the fortress taken by the seventh legion after Julius Cæsar's second landing; but this is purely conjectural, and founded on the mistaken belief that Cæsar landed at Richborough. Even though the fact is not directly mentioned in the "Notitia Imperii" (enumerating the garrisons of the Empire), it is far from impossible that at some period or other during the first four centuries there were some Roman soldiers quartered for a considerable time at Canterbury. If not wholly or partially surrounded by walls (which is more than probable), the city was at any rate defended by earthworks, and we have evidences of a fortified position held by the Romans immediately above the Whitehall marshes, north-west of the city; and of a stronghold or fort of masonry on the so-called Scotland Hills overlooking the Reed Pond.

Whether much stress be laid on this or not, one fact is absolutely certain, that the extensive Roman foundations discovered by Mr Pilbrow while constructing the deep-drainage system of the city in 1868, the number of Roman tesselated pavements, coins, and other relics found at various periods, and the traces of Roman cemeteries, abundantly prove that Durovernum developed at length into a large and populous place.

Among various discoveries may be enumerated Samian ware, coffins, conduit pipes, rings, bottles, urns, Upchurch pottery, spoons, arrowheads, and skeletons, as well as indications of a large iron foundry; and a long list of gold ornaments includes portions of châtelaines, fibulæ, studs, purses, combs; and (what is especially germane to this history) a purple enamelled Roman brooch of circular shape, and a looped Roman intaglio, found near St. Martin's Church. All these appear to show that the Roman occupation of Canterbury was at once complete and continuous.

Of Roman secular buildings above ground there are indeed no remains, and the ancient city must be traced some eight feet below the present level. But in St. Margaret's and in Sun Street there are undoubted evidences of Roman walls. It is not impossible that, when first occupied, the town of Durovernum was very small, consisting of a citadel surrounded by earth mounds, and that it gradually extended itself afterwards beyond its original limits.

The elegance of some of the enamelled brooches and rings, together with other discoveries, point to a considerable degree of luxury and civilisation. One writer fancied that he detected the remains of raised seats for spectators at a circus or amphitheatre in the so-called Martyr's Field, near the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway Station.

The exact dimensions and extent of the city are open to some doubt. Mr T. Godfrey Faussett fixed the site of the four gates as follows:--(1) _Worth Gate_, at the end of Castle Street; (2) _Riding Gate_, on the old road to Dover; (3) _North Gate_, near the present south-west tower of the Cathedral; and (4) a gate _at the Ford_, in Beer Cart Lane. Tracing the walls that lie between them, he concluded that the shape of the Roman town was an irregular oval, different from the usual square or rectangle, but accounted for by the low swampy ground that surrounded it, and not unlike the shape of Verulam and Anderida. The city's length, according to his plan, must have been nearly exactly double its breadth--namely 800 yards by 400.

For actual existing buildings that may possibly have been connected with the Roman occupation, we must have recourse to the _churches_, which supply us with traces of early Christianity more rich and numerous than that of any other town in England. These are to be found in St. Martin's, St. Pancras, and a church on the site of the present Cathedral. Detailed investigation of them would bring us to some controversial points, for the discussion of which one must be thoroughly conversant with all the recent discoveries and explorations that have been made. But we may, at any rate, state the _documentary_ evidence.

With regard to _St. Martin's_ Church, we have already quoted the statement made by the Venerable Bede.

The same historian also informs us that Augustine, "when the Episcopal See was granted to him in the royal city, recovered therein, supported by the king's assistance, a church which, he was informed, had been built by the ancient work of Roman believers; and consecrated it in the name of our Holy Saviour, God and Lord, Jesus Christ."

He does not mention _St. Pancras_, but we are indebted for an account of it (evidently based on older traditions) to Thorn, a Benedictine monk of St. Augustine's, in the fourteenth century. "There was not far from the city towards the east, as it were midway between the Church of St. Martin and the walls of the city, a temple or idol-house, where King Ethelbert, according to the rites of his tribe, was wont to pray, and with his nobles to sacrifice to his demons, and not to God--which temple Augustine purged from the pollutions and filth of the Gentiles; and having broken the image which was in it, changed it into a church, and dedicated it in the name of the martyr St. Pancras; and this was the first church dedicated by St. Augustine." St. Pancras, a Roman boy of noble family, was martyred under Diocletian at the age of fourteen, and was regarded as the patron saint of children. Dean Stanley reminds us that the monastery of St. Andrew on the Coelian Hill, from which St. Augustine came, was built on the very property which had belonged to the family of St. Pancras, so that the name would have been quite familiar to the Roman missionary.

Now, these are the written traditions with regard to the early churches of Canterbury. How far, then, are they confirmed by actual discoveries? A great deal of light has been thrown upon the point within the last few years. In the course of explorations conducted in the Cathedral crypt by Canon Scott Robertson, Dr Sheppard, and myself, there was found at the base of the western wall some masonry of Kentish ragstone covered by a smooth facing of hard plaster, manifestly older than the columns of Prior Ernulf's vaulting shafts, and than Lanfranc's masonry in the upper portion of the wall. We may, therefore, consider it as more than probable that a portion of this wall (which was laid bare to the length of twenty-seven feet) formed part of the original building granted to St. Augustine by King Ethelbert.

The ruins of St. Pancras have also been carefully and minutely investigated, and traces have been found there of both an undoubtedly Roman, and a somewhat later, building. Though Mr J. T. Micklethwaite has satisfied himself that the present foundations can only be assigned to an Early Saxon period, asserting, indeed, that "we have evidence that it was used by St. Augustine himself," his arguments can not yet be accepted as conclusive, and much may be said on the other side.

We may observe an apparent difference in the shapes of these three churches. Of _St. Martin's_ we shall speak at length hereafter, but we may note that, besides the different width of the nave and chancel, there is no sign of an apse at the west end, while indications of an eastern apse are more or less conjectural. In the plan of the original _Cathedral_, conjecturally drawn by Professor Willis from Edmer's description, and which he supposes was the old Christian church preserved by St. Augustine, the building was a plain parallelogram, with apses at both the east and west ends. The choir was extended into the nave, enclosed by a high breast-wall, and about the middle of the church (on the north and south) were two towers, the tower on the south side containing an altar, and also serving as a porch of entrance. This church was built, according to Edmer, "Romanorum opere," and in imitation of the Church of St. Peter, chief of the apostles, meaning the Vatican Basilica.

In _St. Pancras_ there is a tower, or square porch, at the west end, and two transepts of the same size branching off from the centre of the nave, while the foundations of the chancel walls start farther in than those of the nave wall; and, at the distance of twelve or thirteen feet from the point of junction, can be detected the commencement of an apse. In this church we have discovered no doorways, except the one at the west end through the tower, and the possible indications of one leading into the southern transept, where we may yet see remains of an interesting altar (size, 4 ft. 4 by 2 ft. 2), which, if not the identical one that St. Augustine erected on the site occupied by the idol of Ethelbert, is at any rate a very ancient memorial of it.

It is worthy of remark that these three churches are situated in almost a direct line from east to west, and were all outside the Roman walls, and apart from the Roman cemeteries. The orientation of all of them is nearly perfect.

* * * * *

In treating of the time between the departure of the Romans in 410 and the mission of St. Augustine in 597, we must remember that _history_ is almost silent; only a meagre outline of facts is given us, and these often of a very contradictory character. We must endeavour, however, to give a brief sketch of this intervening period as far as it concerns the south-eastern portion of our island, and of necessity, therefore, includes the fortunes of Canterbury. To account for the comparatively easy conquest of Britain in the middle of the fifth century, we are bidden to remember that the Roman rule, which had at first been of a civilising character, and had fostered commerce and the various arts, had in its latter period degenerated into corruption. Town and country alike were crushed by heavy taxation, aggravated by the arbitrary and ruinous oppression of the tax-gatherers. The population, too, had gradually declined as the estates of landed proprietors grew larger. Moreover, the Roman government had disarmed and enervated the people, and, by crushing all local independence, had crushed all local vigour, so that men forgot how to fight for their country, and constant foreign invasions found them without hope or energy for resistance.

Bishop Stubbs (in his "Constitutional History") remarks on the great contrast between the effects of the Roman occupation in Gaul and Britain. Gaul had so assimilated the cultivation of its masters, that it became more Roman than Italy itself, possessing more flourishing cities and a more active and enlightened church, as well as a Latin language and literature; while Britain, though equally under Roman dominion, had never become Roman. When the legions were removed, any union that may have existed between the two populations absolutely ceased. The Britons forgot the Latin tongue; they had become unaccustomed to the arts of war, and had never learnt the arts of peace, while their clergy lost all sympathy with the growth of religious thought. They could not utilise the public works, or defend the cities of their masters, so that the country became easy to be conquered just in proportion as it was Romanised.

After a continuance of internal dissensions, described by Gildas in high-flown and rhetorical language, the native chiefs were once more troubled by piratical attacks, and by their Irish enemies. It was impossible to resist this combination by the forces of the province itself, and so, imitating that fatal policy of matching barbarian against barbarian, which led to the fall of the Roman Empire, the Britons summoned to their aid a band of English or Jutish warriors, to whom they promised food, clothing, pay, and grants of land. And this application for help was not unnatural, as there was probably in many of the towns a leaven of Teutonic settlers, especially along the "Saxon shore," who had maintained a steady intercourse with their kinsmen that remained behind, and some of whom may have been German war-veterans, pensioned off by successive Roman emperors.

The statement by Mr Green that the "History of England begins in 449 with the landing of Hengist and Horsa in the Isle of Thanet" is principally applicable to the _Kingdom of Kent_, for the Jutes had been preceded by Angles in the north, who seem to have been for some time in more or less undisputed possession of the country between the mouth of the Humber and the wall of Antoninus; and the eastern shores of the island were to a great extent colonised by kindred tribes.

The leaders in this expedition naturally sent for reinforcements after their first successes, and it is probable that their followers were at the beginning contented with a settlement in the Isle of Thanet, where they would be secure against any possible treachery from the Britons, and would be near the sea, whence their compatriots would bring them aid if necessary--yet they gradually advanced, and their subsequent exploits culminated in the victory of Aylesford, six years after their landing, and the alleged death of the warrior Horsa.

This victory, it is said, was followed in Kent by a dreadful and unsparing massacre. The Jutes, merciless by habit, were provoked by the sullen and treacherous attitude of their victims, and destroyed all the towns which they captured. Some of the wealthier landowners of Kent fled in panic over the sea, but many of the poorer folk took refuge in forests, or escaped to Wales and Cornwall. Famine and pestilence devoured some, others were ruthlessly slaughtered. There was no means of escape, even by seeking shelter within the walls of their churches, since the rage of the English burnt fiercest against the clergy. The priests were slain at the altar, the churches burnt, and the peasants rushed from the flames, only to be cut down by the sword.

The above is the generally accepted theory, but probably in many respects it is an exaggerated account, such as is common in the traditions of conquered nations, and should be accepted with very great hesitation.

A few years after the victory of Aylesford, Richborough, Lympne, and Dover fell permanently into the hands of the invaders.

The Jutes, with whom Kent is more immediately concerned, were the northernmost of the three tribes of the Germanic family. They lived in the marshy forests and along the shores of the extreme peninsula of Denmark, which retains the name of Jutland to the present day. We know little of their early history, but it is probable that the Jutes, the Angles, and the Saxons, although speaking the same language, worshipping the same gods, and using the same laws, had no national or political unity--and the separate expeditions, resulting in the final conquest of Britain, were unconnected with one another, though almost continuous in point of time. It is certain that the invaders to a large extent declined to amalgamate with the people whom they had conquered; nor would they consent to tolerate their existence side by side. A few may have lingered on in servitude round the homesteads of their conquerors, but a large portion of the survivors (as we have said) took refuge in Western Britain.

As to their _religion_, we know that England for nearly a century and a half was almost entirely a heathen country, represented on a map as a black patch between the Christians of Gaul and the Christian Celts of our island. While the Goths, Vandals, Burgundians, and Franks in other parts of the Roman empire soon became Christians, the English went on worshipping their false gods, such as Woden, Thor, and others, who gave their names to river, homestead, and boundary alike, and even to the days of the week.

And yet their mythology was not so degraded but that it presented in fragments the outlines of Christianity. This was recognised afterwards by Pope Gregory's wise counsel to Augustine not to interfere needlessly with the religious faith of his pagan converts, but allow them to worship the old objects under new names; not to destroy the old temples, but to consecrate them as Christian churches, the reason being that "for hard and rough minds it is impossible to cut away abruptly all old customs, because he who wishes to reach the highest place must ascend by steps and not by jumps." Kemble (in his "Saxons in England") gives an insight into the character of their religion, and accounts for the ultimately rapid spread of Christianity among them by this process of adaptation, and also because the moral demands of the new faith did not seem to the Saxons more onerous than those to which they were previously accustomed. Bede not unnaturally reproaches the Britons for refusing or failing to convert their enemies to the true faith, whereas it had been the habit elsewhere for the Christian priesthood to act as mediators between barbarian invaders and the conquered.

_Canterbury_ seems to have been at once abandoned by the vanquished, because it would have been utterly untenable owing to its position on the main road between the sea-fortresses of Kent and the rest of the kingdom; and it was probably at first unoccupied by the Jutes, so that it remained for many long years uninhabited and desolate. We know that the very name of Durovernum had become forgotten, while the fortresses of the coast still retained their former names without any radical change. This opinion is confirmed by the fact that, while numerous Saxon cemeteries have been found in East Kent--such as at Ash, Kingston, Sarre, etc.--none whatever have been discovered in the district immediately round Canterbury, though the soil has been thoroughly and completely turned over for the purposes of road and drain making, as well as for pits of gravel, sand, and chalk. Moreover, not a single street of our city is on the site of a Roman street, with the partial exception of Watling Street and Beer Cart Lane.

Probably in the early days of the Jutish conquerors Richborough would have been their headquarters, as being conveniently near the coast; and it was not till they had pretty well settled themselves in the country that they fixed on a new capital, to which they gave the name of _Cantwarabyrig_, "the city of the men of Kent."

The curtain of Christian history is not again lifted over England till the year 597, when, according to the "Anglo-Saxon Chronicle," "Gregory the Pope sent into Britain very many monks, who gospelled God's Word to the English folk." And, connected closely as the mission was with St. Martin's Church, we must enter into it with some detail, though it is an oft-told story, and is familiar even to those who have never visited Canterbury, and know little else of ecclesiastical history.

Gregory had been appointed at an early age "Praetor of the City" by the Emperor Justin II., and had afterwards been sent by Benedict I. and Pelagius II. to Constantinople, where he resided for many years as the representative of the Bishop of Rome. He returned to Rome in 585, and it was near this date that the event occurred which we are now about to narrate. He was at that time about forty-five years old, a monk in the great monastery of St. Andrew on the Coelian Hill, which he had himself founded; and we may believe that he was remarkable, then as afterwards, for his comprehensive policy, his grasp of great issues, and his minute and careful attention to details in secular as well as religious matters. The vast slave trade prevalent in Europe was to him a special cause of sorrow; and for the purpose of trying to check the evil, to redeem the captives, or to mitigate their sufferings, he was wont to resort to the market-place in Rome whenever a new cargo of slaves arrived from distant countries.

One day, on his visit to the Forum of Trajan, he observed some (traditionally, _three_) boys with fair complexions, comely faces, and bright flowing hair, exposed for sale. When he saw them, he asked from what region or country they had been brought, and on being told "from the island of Britain, whose inhabitants were of similar appearance," inquired whether these islanders were Christians, or still involved in pagan errors. The answer was, "They are pagans." Then he heaved deep sighs from the bottom of his heart and said: "Alas! that men of such bright countenance should be subject to the author of darkness, and that such grace of outward form should hide minds void of grace within." Being told further, in answer to his question, that they were called _Angles_, "Rightly so called," said he, "for they have the faces of _Angels_, and are meet to be fellow-heirs with the angels in heaven. But what is the name of the province from which they were brought?" "_Deira_" (the land between the Tees and the Humber), said the merchant. "Right again," was the reply, "from wrath (_de ira_) shall they be rescued, and called to the mercy of Christ." Lastly, on hearing that the king of that province was named Ælla, he exclaimed: "Alleluia! the praise of God the Creator shall be sung in those parts."

Gregory went from the Forum to the Pope (probably Pelagius), and asked him to send to the English nation some minister of the word, by whom the island might be converted to Christ, saying that he himself was prepared to undertake this work with the assistance of the Lord. But though the Pope gave his consent, so great was the love of the Roman people for him, that he was obliged to start from the monastery in the strictest secrecy, accompanied by a few of his comrades. When his departure became known, the people were much excited, and, dividing themselves into three companies, assailed the Pope as he went to church, crying with a _terrible voice_ "What hast thou done? Thou hast offended St. Peter, thou hast destroyed Rome, since thou hast sent Gregory away." The Pope, greatly alarmed, despatched messengers with all possible speed to recall Gregory to Rome. He had already advanced three days along the great northern road when the messengers arrived, and led him back to the city.

Gregory afterwards become abbot of the monastery, and, much against his will, was elected Pope on the death of Pelagius, and consecrated on September 3, 590.

But he never forgot his project for the conversion of England, and in 595 wrote to Candidus, a priest in Gaul, directing him to use part of the Papal patrimony to purchase English youths of the age of seventeen or eighteen years, to be educated in monasteries, no doubt with the intention of sending them afterwards as missionaries to their countrymen.

It was not, however, till the following year that he was able to fulfil the desire of his heart, when he selected as the head of a mission to England Augustine, Prior of St. Andrew's Monastery, and charged him with letters to Vigilius, Bishop of Arles, to the Kings Theodoric and Theodebert, and to their grandmother, Queen Brunehaut or Brunichild. In the course of their journey, however, this missionary band was so terrified by the rumours they heard that they became faint-hearted on the road, and despatched Augustine to Rome to beg that they might be recalled. But Gregory would have no withdrawal, and sent him back again with letters of encouragement to his colleagues. So they went on, crossed the sea from Boulogne, and, either in the autumn of 596 or the early spring of 597, landed in England, somewhere in the Isle of Thanet.

The King of Kent at this time was _Ethelbert_, who was the most powerful King in England (reckoned by some as the third Bretwalda), and had established his supremacy over the Saxons of Middlesex and Essex, as well as over the English of East Anglia as far north as the Wash: and had driven back the West Saxons when, after an interval of civil feuds, they began again their advance along the Thames, and marched upon London. Ethelbert began to reign in 561. He was believed to be great-grandson of Eric, son of Hengist, a "son of the ash-tree." He had previously, when quite young, been engaged in an encounter with Ceawlin, King of Wessex, and been defeated at Wimbledon. But Ceawlin himself was worsted in 591 by his nephew Cedric at Woodnesbury, in Wiltshire; and Ethelbert had now asserted his supremacy.

Unlike most English kings then, and for a long time afterwards, he had married a foreign wife, Bercta, or _Bertha_, daughter of Charibert, one of the kings of the Franks in Gaul, reigning in Paris. Bertha was a Christian, and, as Ethelbert was a heathen, it had been expressly stipulated, either by her father, or by her uncle and guardian Chilperic, King of Soissons, that she should enjoy the free exercise of her religion, and keep her faith inviolate.

Bertha is one of the most interesting and romantic characters in English history--our first Christian Queen--possessing apparently much the same influence over Ethelbert as Clotilda had done over Bertha's great ancestor, Clovis, and (though not able to convert him yet) without doubt disposing him favourably towards the new religion. It is variously conjectured that she was born about 555 or 561. We do not know much of her early life, but St. Gregory of Tours, in his contemporary pages, informs us that King Charibert took to wife, Ingoberga, by whom he had a daughter, who afterwards "married a husband in Kent." Charibert was not a man of good character, and being annoyed with his wife Ingoberga, he forsook her, and married Merofledis, the daughter of a certain poor woolmaker in the queen's service. The unfortunate queen was thereupon obliged to fly, and, taking up her abode at Tours, devoted herself to a life of religious seclusion, bringing up her daughter Bertha under the direction of Bishop Gregory, and preparing her thus for the part she afterwards filled in the conversion of England. We may mention here that King Charibert, after the death of Merofledis, proceeded to marry her sister, for which outrage he was solemnly excommunicated by St. Germanus; and, refusing to leave her, "perished, stricken by the just judgment of God." Ingoberga died at the age of seventy, in the year 589.

Bertha was accompanied to England by her chaplain, Liudhard, who was sent with her to preserve her faith. Of Liudhard we know very little that is certain. His name is variously spelt Leotard, Liudhard, or even Liupard. By some he was supposed to be Bishop of Senlis, but his name does not occur in the list of bishops of that see, though it is inserted with a mark of interrogation in Gow's _Series Episcoporum_. By others he has been entitled Bishop of Soissons, though without any documentary authority. We may probably accept the notion that he was one of the "wandering bishops" who were very numerous at a later period in Gaul. Gocelin calls him the "faithful guardian of the queen." It seems strange that he, who could speak a language akin to that of the English, did not convert some of them previously to the coming of Augustine, who only spoke Latin, and was obliged to converse with them at first through the medium of an interpreter.

However that may be, he was undoubtedly the "harbinger" of Augustine, and had probably endeavoured to stir up his brother prelates of Gaul on behalf of the English, since Pope Gregory, writing at this time to Theodoric and Theodebert, severely condemns the supineness of the Gallic Church, in neglecting to provide for the religious wants of their neighbours, whose "earnest longing for the grace of life had reached his ears."

We may mention here that a coin was found some years ago in the churchyard of St. Martin's, with the inscription, "Lyupardus Eps"--and the Rev. Daniel Haigh (in his notes on the Runic monuments of Kent) says that he has no doubt that this coin belongs to Liudhard, who is called Liphardus in Floras' addition to Bede's _Martyro-logia_.

Queen Bertha and her chaplain used to worship in the little church of St. Martin, going there daily from Ethelbert's palace, near the site of the present cathedral, through the postern gate of the precincts opposite St. Augustine's gateway. To this circumstance, though by a somewhat fanciful etymology, is attributed its name of _Queningate_. Owing to long disuse, it is probable that the church had fallen into a state of partial decay, but it was again restored and made suitable for Christian worship--though the Queen, with her chaplain and attendant maidens, may only have used a portion of the ancient building.

But we must now return to Augustine. "On the east of Kent," says Bede, "is the large Isle of Thanet, containing, according to the English way of reckoning, six hundred families, divided from the mainland by the river Wantsum," which at that time was a channel nearly a mile in width, running from Richborough to Reculver, though it has since become a narrow ditch. Here was a small place called Ebbsfleet, still the name of a farmhouse, rising out of Minster Marsh, but, owing to the retreat of the sea, now situated among green fields. There is little to catch the eye in Ebbsfleet itself, which is a mere spit of higher ground, distinguished by its clump of trees, but must then have been a headland, running out into the sea. "Taken as a whole," says Mr Green, "the scene has a wild beauty of its own. To the right, the white curve of Ramsgate Cliffs looks down on the crescent of Pegwell Bay. Far away to the left, across grey marshlands, where smoke-wreaths mark the sites of Richborough and Sandwich, rises the dim cliff-line of Deal." It is unnecessary to enter into the controversy whether Augustine first set foot on English ground here or at Stonar, or beneath the walls of the Roman fortress of Richborough, as apparently stated by Thorn. The whole question is fully discussed in an appendix to the "Mission of St. Augustine," carefully compiled by Canon Mason.

The missionaries had no sooner landed than one or two of their body proceeded to Canterbury, where they duly acquainted King Ethelbert with the fact and object of their arrival. The king gave the messengers a favourable hearing, but bade them remain where they were, saying that he himself would visit them--making, however, this curious stipulation, that they should not hold their first interview under a roof, lest they should practise on him spells and incantations--"though they came," adds Bede, "furnished with Divine and not with magic power."

After some days, the king came to the island, where the interview took place, possibly under a large oak tree close to Cottington Farm, where a Sandbach Cross has been erected by the late Earl Granville as a memorial of the event--and it was at this place that the commemoration of the "Coming of St. Augustine" was held in 1897, by the bishops of both the Anglican and Roman communions. Other traditions name the centre of the island, or the walls of Richborough--but, where-ever it was, the missionaries, on hearing of the king's arrival with his attendant thanes, came to meet him, chanting litanies, with a tall silver cross before them, and a figure of the Saviour painted on an upright board. Besides Augustine himself, who was of great stature, head and shoulders taller than anyone else, were Laurence, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, Peter, who became first Abbot of St. Augustine, and nearly forty others.

When the procession stopped, and the chant ceased, Ethelbert courteously bade the missionaries be seated. Then Augustine, through the medium of a Frankish interpreter, having preached to the king the Words of Life and the mercies of the Saviour, was answered by the king in the well known passage:--"Fair indeed are your words and promises, but as they are new to us and of uncertain import, I cannot assent to them so far as to forsake that which I have so long held in common with the whole English nation. But because you have come as strangers from afar into my kingdom, and are desirous to impart to us those things which you believe to be true and most beneficial, we will not do you any harm, but rather receive you in kindly hospitality, and take care to supply you with necessary sustenance. Nor do we forbid you to preach, and win over as many as you can to the faith of your religion."

The king was as good as his word. Before his return to Canterbury, he gave orders that a suitable abode should be prepared for the missionaries near the "Stable Gate," which stood not far from the present church of St. Alphege.

From the Isle of Thanet, Augustine and his companions crossed the ferry to Richborough. Thence they proceeded for about twelve miles almost due west to Canterbury, passing by Ash and Wingham, and then between the villages of Wickham and Ickham, till they came to St. Martin's Hill. There they would catch sight of the little church of St. Martin, which (as they well knew) had been consecrated afresh to the worship of Jesus Christ, and of the city below with its wooden houses dotted about among the ash-groves. As soon as they beheld the city, they walked in procession down the hill, bearing aloft the silver cross and the painted board--and as they passed St. Martin's Church, the choristers, whom Augustine had brought from Gregory's school on the Coelian Hill, chanted one of Gregory's own litanies, "We beseech Thee, O Lord, in all Thy mercy, let Thy wrath and anger be turned away from this city and from Thy holy house, for we have sinned. Alleluia!"

We can well imagine that the heathen inhabitants of Canterbury must have been struck with astonishment at the unwonted sight, as well as at the swarthy complexions and strange dress of the Roman missionaries. And we may believe that Queen Bertha came forth to meet the band with a feeling of intense joy. Whether Bishop Liudhard was still alive or not, we have no evidence to determine.

Bede tells us that they began at once to imitate the course of life practised in the primitive church, with frequent prayer, watching, and fasting, preaching the word of life to as many as they could, receiving only necessary food from those whom they taught, living themselves conformably to their teaching, being always prepared to suffer, even to die, for the truth which they preached. In St. Martin's Church they met, sang, prayed, celebrated mass, preached, and baptised. And soon the first fruits of their mission began to appear in the conversion and baptism of Ethelbert.

Ethelbert was baptised, according to an early tradition, on the Feast of Pentecost (June 2nd) in the year 597--but where? Of one thing there can be little doubt, that we should certainly expect him to have been baptised in St. Martin's Church. It was here that his queen had worshipped for so many years. It was here that Augustine is distinctly stated by Bede to have baptised--and so it was here (we may conclude with little hesitation) that the baptism of Ethelbert took place--even though we can find no direct statement to that effect earlier than that of John Bromton, writing at the end of the twelfth century, who says that "_there_ (_i.e._ in St. Martin's) the king was baptised in the name of the Holy Trinity and the faith of the Church."

The rumours of the king's conversion had probably brought a vast multitude of strangers to the city, not only from other parts of Kent, but also from distant quarters. We cannot doubt that, as in the case of the baptism of Clovis, the ceremony was performed with much pomp, to impress the minds of the heathen Saxons. "On that occasion the Church was hung with embroidered tapestry and white curtains: odours of incense like airs of paradise were diffused around, and the building blazed with countless lights."

While Ethelbert remained at the entrance, Queen Bertha, with her attendants, repaired to her customary place of devotion. A portion of the service was performed at the altar, and then Augustine descended to the font, chanting a litany, and preceded by two acolytes with lighted tapers. Then followed prayers for the benediction of the font and the consecration of the water, over which Augustine makes the sign of the Cross three times. Then (according to one variation of the ancient Gallican rite) the two tapers are plunged into the font, and Augustine breathes into it (_insufflat_) three times, and the Chrism is poured into the font in the form of a Cross, while the water is parted with his hand. Ethelbert at this point is interrogated in the following simple form:--"Dost thou believe in God the Father Almighty? Dost thou too believe in Jesus Christ, His only-begotten Son, our Lord, who was born and suffered! and Dost thou believe in the Holy Ghost, the Holy Church, the remission of sins, and the Resurrection of the flesh?" To each of which questions the king answers, "_I believe_."

Here follows the actual _baptism_, after which Ethelbert is signed on the forehead with Chrism in the form of a Cross. Augustine returns to his seat, and another litany is chanted. Had Augustine been at that time a bishop, he would now have administered to the king the Sacrament of Confirmation, but he was not consecrated bishop of the English till a few months afterwards.

It has indeed been objected that the ceremony could not have taken place in St. Martin's Church, because at that time baptism was administered by immersion. This was indeed the general rule, and such expressions as being "let down into the water," "stepping forth from the bath," "coming up from the font," and so on, occur in the writings of Tertullian, Jerome, the Gelasian and Leontine Sacramentaries; and octagonal or circular baptisteries are found in ancient churches, sometimes as much as twenty feet in diameter and five feet deep, erected for this purpose.

On the other hand, this practice was by no means universal, and even as early as the second century _affusion_ was frequently used, with or without immersion. A picture of our Lord's baptism in the baptistery of St. John's at Ravenna (about 450) represents Jesus as standing in the water, and the Baptist pouring water over him from a shell. There is a similar representation in the church of St. Maria in Cosmedin (about 550), and one of earlier date in a fresco from the cemetery of St. Callixtus. On two sarcophagi, mentioned by Ciampinus, representations of a like character are engraved, supposed to be the Baptism of Agilulfus and Theodolinda (about 590), and of Arrichius, second Duke of Beneventum (591). In the latter case a man somewhat advanced in years, kneels to receive baptism, which is administered by _affusion_ only. Both of these are assigned to the same decade as that of King Ethelbert. We may conclude, therefore, that both forms of administering the rite were practised from early times, and it is by no means impossible that Ethelbert was baptised by _affusion_. It was probably not from the existing font, even though in the seal of N. de Battail, Abbot of St. Augustine's (1224-1252) and in the common seal of St. Augustine's Abbey, the king is represented as standing in a font, resembling in many respects the present one--while the baptism of Rollo, the first Christian Duke of Normandy, is illustrated in an early MS. of the twelfth-century Chronicle of Beuvit de St. More, with Rollo standing (or sitting) naked in a similar tub-like font.

_St. Martin's_, "a small and mean church," as it is unkindly called by Stukely, after the death of Augustine, Ethelbert, and Bertha, relapses into comparative obscurity, and its history is gathered chiefly from the testimony of architecture. We may, however, mention, as connected with the immediately succeeding period, that there were dug up in the churchyard (besides the Roman ornaments already described) a Saxon or Frankish circular ornament set with garnets, and other things which were of too costly a description to have belonged to any but persons of distinction, with whom they had probably been interred--also three gold looped Merovingian coins, fully described by Mr Roach Smith.

The first historical post-Augustinian record that we find in connection with the church is the well-known charter of 867 (from the Cottonian MSS. Augustus II. 95) granted, when the Kentish Wittenagemot was held at Canterbury, by King Ethelred, and entitled "Grant of a _sedes_ in the place which is called St. Martin's Church, and of a small enclosure pertaining to the same _sedes_ by King Ethelred to his faithful friend Wighelm, priest," endorsed in a contemporary hand, "An sett æt sc'e Martine." In this document Ethelred, King of the West Saxons and Kentishmen, gives and concedes to Wighelm a _sedes_ and _tun_ or enclosure pertaining thereto, of which the boundaries are named, but the Latin is very provincial and obscure. The grant is given to Wighelm for his life, and after his death to his heirs, and the king in strong language lays injunction on his successors "by the faith of St. Martin, confessor of Christ," not to presume to infringe the grant.

Now this charter is one of the most remarkable in the whole series of Anglo-Saxon documents, and confessedly one of the most difficult to comprehend, especially as to the word _sedes_, which is variously interpreted to refer to the episcopal character of St. Martin's, or to some official appointment in the church, or to a shop, dwelling, or stall for market purposes, in the parish. Whatever be the meaning of many difficult expressions, the charter is important as giving what is probably a complete list of the Canterbury clergy, all of whom attested it.

_Archbishop_ Ceolnoth. _Abbot_ Biarnhelm. _Archdeacons_ Sigefred, Bearnoth, Herefreth. _Priests_ Nothheard, Biarnfreth, &c. &c. &c.

It is also attested by King Ethelred, Duke Eastmund, Abbot Ealhheard, and many others, and is confirmed "in Jesus Christ with the sign of the Holy Cross" in the year 867.

We can hardly doubt that the church suffered some injury at the hands of the Danes, by whom Canterbury was wasted in 851 and again in 1009, though the most serious devastation took place in 1011, when, in the reign of Ethelred the Second, the Danes laid siege to, and captured, the city. On that occasion Archbishop Elphege was seized, bound, and dragged to the Cathedral to see it in flames. He was then carried off, and eventually murdered at Greenwich.

Not very long after this period we discover mention of the suffragan "Bishops of St. Martin's," who were evidently _Chorepiscopi_, an ancient order of bishops, dating from the third century, who overlooked the country district committed to them, ordaining readers, exorcists and subdeacons, but not (as a rule) deacons and priests, except by express permission of the diocesan bishop. It has been wrongly supposed, without any evidence or tradition, that the bishops of St. Martin's belonged to the great church at Dover, or the Oratory of St. Martin at Romney.

It is said by Battely that the succession of these bishops lasted for the space of nearly four hundred years; but of this there is no proof, and the idea may have sprung from the charter which we have discussed above, while the actual tradition is first mentioned in the "Black Book of the Archdeacons of Canterbury" (probably compiled in the fourteenth or fifteenth century), wherein it is said that "In the time of St. Augustine, first Archbishop of Canterbury, to the time of Archbishop Lanfranc of blessed memory, there was no archdeacon in the city and diocese of Canterbury. But from the time of Archbishop Theodore, who was sixth from St. Augustine, to the time of the aforesaid Lanfranc, there was in the church of St. Martin's, a suburb of Canterbury, a bishop ordained by Theodore, under the authority of Pope Vitalian, who in all the city and diocese of Canterbury undertook duties in the place of the archbishop, conferring holy orders, consecrating churches, and confirming children during his absence." Archbishop Parker speaks of the Bishop of St. Martin's as performing in all things the office of a bishop in the absence of the archbishop, who, for the most part, attended the king's court. "The bishop, himself being a monk, received under obedience the monks of Christ Church, and celebrated in the Metropolitical Church the solemn offices of Divine worship, which being finished he returned to his own place. He and the Prior of Christ Church sat together in synods, both habited alike."

The names of only two bishops are preserved to us--that of _Eadsi_ or _Eadsige_ (1032-38), subsequently Archbishop of Canterbury, who, soon after he had received the pall from the Pope, was afflicted with a loathsome disease which incapacitated him for a time; though he afterwards recovered and administered the see until his death on the fourth day before the Kalends of November in 1050. The other Bishop was _Godwin_, appointed in 1052 by Archbishop Robert of Jumiéges, who died, according to the Saxon Chronicle, in 1061. The Bishop of St. Martin's was practically merged into the Archdeacon of Canterbury in the time of Lanfranc, who refused to ordain another bishop, saying that "there ought not to be two bishops in one city."

After the Conquest, St. Martin's was partially restored by the Normans, and the interior of the church underwent considerable alteration in the thirteenth century.

The list of the rectors is given in an appendix. They were not persons of any distinction, but from time to time we glean a few interesting details concerning them.

Thus, for instance, in 1321, a dispute arose between _Robert de Henney_, rector of St. Martin's, and Randolph de Waltham, master of the Free Grammar School of the city of Canterbury, about the rights and privileges of their respective schools. A Special Commission was appointed by the Archbishop, including the chaplain of St. Sepulchre's, the vicar of St. Paul's, the rector of St. Mary de Castro, rector of St. Peter's, and others. The point of dispute was whether in the St. Martin's School (within the church fence or boundary) there should be more than thirteen _grammar_ scholars. The rector was limited to this number for fear of infringing on the privilege of the City Grammar School, though he was entitled to take as many scholars in reading and singing as he pleased. In fact, however, the rector took as many grammar boys as he could get, it being necessary only that when his school was visited by the city schoolmaster or his deputy, the surplus should conceal themselves for the time being. An injunction, however, was granted in the Archbishop's Court to restrain the rector from taking more than his bare thirteen.

This is an extremely interesting record, because it shows that there were two flourishing public schools in Canterbury, probably the most ancient Grammar Schools in England, early in the fourteenth century; and that the pupils _paid_ for their teaching, and learnt other subjects besides grammar.

Thorn, the monk of St. Augustine's, tells us also an amusing story of how _John de Bourne_, rector of St. Martin's, aided in the escape of one Peter de Dene from St. Augustine's Monastery by placing ladders against the monastery walls. They then rode on horseback together to Bishopsbourne, but Peter was at length recaptured.

In the fourteenth century we find no less than three rectors who were instituted to St. Martin's by the Prior of Christ Church during a vacancy in the see of Canterbury.

We have already mentioned the difficulty of obtaining information concerning the church in the Middle Ages, owing to its being exempt from the jurisdiction of the Archdeacon of Canterbury, and therefore not included in the Archidiaconal Registers, while the Archbishop's Visitations of the diocese were not, as a rule, parochial. By a lucky chance, however, we find some entries in Archbishop Warham's Visitation in 1511, one of which is to the effect that the churchwardens had not furnished accounts for five years, though they had received various monies for keeping graves in order. They were ordered to furnish accounts before the Feast of Purification, under pain of excommunication, &c.

There are many details of interest to be found in the pre-Reformation wills of parishioners, which are preserved in the "Consistory Court." In them we find bequests to the Light of the Holy Cross, the Light of the Blessed Mary, the Light of St. Martin, the Light of St. Christopher, the Light of St. Erasmus, for daily masses before the image of St. Nicholas, to the High Altar, for the purchase of a new Cross, for various ornaments, for paving,--together with tenements, real estate, legacies for the benefit of the poor, and sundry curious personal gifts which wonderfully illustrate the habits and customs of the period. And from an inventory of Parish Church goods in Kent, made in 1552, we find the following entry relating to St. Martin's under the head of "19th July vi., Edward vi.":--

Bartylemewe Barham gent. and Stevyn Goodhewe, churchwardens.

_Ffirst_, one chalys with the paten of sylver.

_Item_, one vestment of blewe velvett with a cope to the same.

_Item_, one vestment of whyte braunchyd damaske with a cope to the same.

_Item_, one other olde vestment with a cope to the same.

_Item_, two table clothes.

_Item_, one long towell, one short towell.

_Item_, ij corporas with their clothes.

_Item_, one velvet cushon and one saten cushon.

_Item_, ij chysts, iiij surplysys.

_Item_, iij bells and one waggerell bell in the steple. Whereof left in the churche for the mynystracion of dyvyne service: The chalys with the paten of sylver, one cope of blewe velvett, one cope of whyte braunchyd damaske, ij albes, ij table clothes, one long towell, and one short towell, iiij surplysys, the bells in the steple.

For any further particulars concerning the Church after the Reformation we may refer to the meagre account given by William Somner, and the additions made to his history by Nicholas Battely, who states that "St. Martin's claims the priority in the catalogue of Canterbury parish churches upon several titles of antiquity and dignity." He says that he cannot pretend that the present fabric is the same building which was erected in or near the days of King Lucius, or which was repaired and fitted up for Queen Bertha. "But yet it has at this day the appearance of ancientness, not from the wrinkles and ruins of old age, but from the materials (_i.e._ Roman bricks) used in the repairing or re-edifying of it." He then goes on to make the erroneous statement that "in the porch of this church were buried Queen Bertha, and Liudhard, Bishop of Senlis, and (Thorn saith) King Ethelbert." About ninety years after the time of Battely we come to a description of the church in the pages of Hasted, who, without assigning any reason, ventures on the suggestion that "the _Chancel_ was the whole of the original building of this church or oratory, and was probably built about the year 200: that is, about the middle space of time when the Christians, both Britons and Romans, lived in this island free from all persecutions." Hasted's history is, as a rule, extremely valuable, not only from the style of his writing, but from his extraordinary general accuracy, and the minuteness of his original researches: and we are often at a loss to imagine from what source he could have derived so much information, which at that period was not so accessible as at present.

_Gostling_, a minor canon of the cathedral, writes also at the end of the last century ("Walks in and about Canterbury"), but he adds nothing fresh except that "if the church was larger and more magnificent (as Mr Battely seems to believe) this might tempt the Danish invaders to make a ruin of that, but they had no provocation here!" and he calls it elsewhere "an obscure chapel."

It is probable that the church was much neglected during the last, and the first forty years of the present, century. Its existence was almost forgotten by the public at large. From an historical edifice it sank into the insignificance of a small parish church in a small village. It was the _site_ of great events, but only a site: and its condition is faithfully described in some verses beneath an old print now hanging in the vestry.

"A humble church recalls the scenes of yore To present memory, yet humbled more By lapse of years, by lack of reverent care, And ill-advised expedients for repair. Oh! would this age its taste and bounty blend, The faults of bygone ages to amend! And lib'rally adorn this lowly pile Where sleeps the first Queen Christian of our isle."