Part 15

St. Augustine and his missioners had come from the monastery of St. Andrew, Rome. To St. Andrew, therefore, they dedicated the first Saxon cathedral. In 1542 the cathedral was re-dedicated to Christ and the Blessed Virgin Mary of Rochester. Till 1077 the cathedral was served by secular canons; Gundulph replaced them by Benedictine monks.

I. In 1888 the foundations of an early church were found. It had an apse, but neither aisles nor transepts; walls only 2 feet 4 inches thick; 42 feet long, 28 feet broad. From the resemblance of its plan to that of St. Pancras, Canterbury, and the presence of Roman brick in the walls, it seems as likely to be a Romano-British as an Anglo Saxon church.

II. Between 1080 and 1089 Bishop Gundulph completed a Norman cathedral, except the western part of the nave. In plan it was entirely different from any Norman cathedral of the day: one can hardly help believing that it must have been designed by an Englishman. The plan of it is given in the _Builder_. It was a long oblong aisled cathedral, with nave and aisles running on without a break from the west end of the nave to the east end of the choir. But in the choir the side-aisles were cut off from the central aisle by a solid wall, as in the contemporary choir of St. Albans and in the Premonstratensian abbey of St. Radigund, near Dover. There was probably no crossing, and therefore no central tower. There were no transepts proper; but, as in such Anglo-Saxon churches as Worth, low porch-like transepts projected north and south, with a breadth of only 14 feet. The east end, as in most Anglo-Saxon churches, was square; and there projected from it eastward a small square chapel. Beneath was a crypt, the western part of which remains. There were two towers, both abnormal in position. The southern tower was set in the angle of the choir and the south transept, and may have been the belfry. The other tower, fragments of which still remain, was set in a similar position, but entirely detached. Being detached, and having walls six feet thick, it was no doubt a military keep. Gundulph was fond of building keeps; those of the Tower of London and Malling still exist. Rochester was exposed to and had suffered from attacks of the Danes, sailing up the Medway, in 840, 884, and 999. There was a striking memento of them on the great west doors of the cathedral, which Pepys, as late as 1661, found “covered with the skins of Danes.” We may conjecture that it was as a refuge against similar attacks that Gundulph built the northern keep.

All this work of Gundulph’s is now gone except portions of the crypt, the keep, and the nave. The original monastery was built in the normal position, south of the nave. To enclose the cloister, therefore, on the north, the south side of the nave was proceeded with next. The south aisle-wall is very thin—as was customary in Anglo-Saxon architecture—and we may conjecture that English influence stopped at this point; for the piers and arches of the nave are quite Norman in character. Of Gundulph’s nave there remain on the south side five arches, together with the lower parts of the walls of both aisles. It is very doubtful whether he built any part of the triforium or clerestory. At present his work can only be seen in its original condition from the side of the aisles. The pier arches had originally two square orders, which remain unaltered on the side of the aisle (cf. Winchester transept). Gundulph’s masonry was in rough tufa.

III. LATE NORMAN.—The works on the church were now probably suspended for a considerable time, while the monks, as at Gloucester, replaced the temporary buildings of the monastery by permanent ones. These temporary wooden buildings seem to have been situated in the usual position—viz., south of the nave. It was probably not to interfere with these that the permanent monastic buildings were placed in an abnormal position, south of the choir. Much of this work was done by Bishop Ernulph (1115-1124), who had been a great builder at Canterbury, while prior, and at Peterborough, as abbot. Parts of the cloister, refectory, and chapter-house remain.

When at length the builders returned to the nave of the cathedral (_c._ 1120), fashions had changed. Gundulph’s eleventh-century design and his rough tufa masonry seemed archaic and barbaric. His tufa was therefore cased with good Caen stone, as was done later in the century at Chichester; his piers and capitals were remodelled, and on the side of the nave the outer square order of the pier-arch was covered with zigzag ornament. The aisles, as at Hereford, where a precisely similar transformation of eleventh-into twelfth-century work was taking place at the same time, were left unaltered. Gundulph had placed pilasters along the inner face of the aisle-walls, evidently intending that the aisles should be vaulted; but his successors apparently thought the walls too thin, as at Carlisle, to support a vault; so, instead of vaulting the aisles and obtaining thus a continuous passage the whole length of the church, they constructed a passage in the thickness of the wall of the triforium. Thus Rochester, like Vignory, has the distinction of possessing a sham triforium. Waltham Abbey also has a triforium arcade, but no triforium floor; but that is because the vaults which originally covered the aisles had subsequently to be taken down.

Still later—about the middle of the twelfth century—is the west front, with its magnificent doorway, and the diaper of the triforium.

IV. In 1179 the cathedral was greatly damaged by fire. Either because of this, or because the eastern half of the cathedral had been planned so inconveniently, or because the plan was not the fashionable one of Norman times, the monks set to work to rebuild the whole cathedral. As usual, they arranged their building operations so as to avoid interfering with the services in the choir as long as possible. First, they rebuilt the north aisle of the choir, but not so high as it is at present. The aisle remained narrow, because Gundulph’s tower was in the way. But the south aisle of the choir they doubled in width. Next, they set to work at the east end, planning it, as at Hereford, as an eastern transept with an eastern aisle, and projecting eastward an oblong sanctuary (cf. Southwell). The new transept was lofty and broad; and it is quite possible that it was built over the top of Gundulph’s east end without disturbing daily services within it. Then, when all was finished, Gundulph’s east end was pulled down. Unlike the Worcester monks they preserved the level of the eleventh-century choir, and consequently had to continue Gundulph’s crypt eastward. In the new presbytery is seen the same curious mixture of quadripartite and sexpartite vaulting as in St. Hugh’s eastern transept at Lincoln. All this work was finished in 1227.

Next they pulled down Gundulph’s narrow north transept and rebuilt it as broad as the central aisle of the nave. The new transept has a sexpartite vault with a longitudinal ridge rib, as in the great transept of Lincoln (_c._ 1245).

Then came the rebuilding of the south transept (_c._ 1280). They resolved also to have a central tower and to rebuild the nave. Of the nave they rebuilt the two easternmost bays, and then completed the piers and arches of the crossing; but not yet the tower.

Up to this point the works had gone on continuously for a century. What enabled the monks to undertake such a great work as the rebuilding of the whole cathedral, and why, after doing so much, they suddenly stopped, has now to be explained. The secret of the flush of money at Rochester was that in 1201 the monks acquired a new saint, St. William. “He was by birth a Scot, of Perth; by trade, a baker; in charity so abundant that he gave to the poor the tenth loaf of his workmanship; in zeal so fervent that in vow he promised, and in deed attempted, to visit the places where Christ was conversant on earth; in which journey, he made Rochester his way, where, after that he had rested two or three days, he departed toward Canterbury. But ere he had gone far from the city, his servant—a foundling who had been brought up by him out of charity—led him of purpose out of the highway, and spoiled him both of his money and his life. The servant escaped, but his master (because he died in so holy a purpose of mind) was by the monks conveyed to St. Andrew’s and laid in the choir. And soon he wrought miracles plentifully.” It was, then, from offerings at the shrine of St. Thomas of Perth, left by countless pilgrims on their way to the shrine of a yet greater Thomas at Canterbury, that the expenses of the new choir were paid. And it was simply because in the course of eighty years the repute of the murdered baker had paled and waned before the ever-growing fame of the murdered archbishop, that the monks had to renounce, once for all, their ambitious project of rebuilding the whole of the nave. It seems, however, that they were for a considerable time unwilling to give up hope; for one bay of the Norman triforium was pulled down, leaving a gap, which was not filled up till the fourteenth century; when, oddly enough, it was rebuilt in the same Norman style as before, but in greensand—a rare mediæval example of “architectural forgery” (cf. Durham Galilee).

V. But though the rebuilding of the nave was definitely abandoned, a good deal of work was done in the Curvilinear period (1315-1360). The central tower was at length erected; it was removed in 1749. A solid stone screen was built between the piers, as at Ripon; the south aisle of the choir was brought into its present form by the absorption of Gundulph’s southern tower; a grand doorway to the chapter-house was built, and monuments were erected to Bishop Hamo de Hythe (d. 1352), and Bishop John de Sheppey (d. 1360).

The monks now also provided a Lady chapel. This they got in a very inexpensive way—a proof that their resources had greatly fallen off—by appropriating for the purpose the southern transept, the two eastern bays of which they threw into one to form a recess for the altar of the Virgin.

VI. After this little was done at Rochester, except to build out a chapel of three bays westward from the south transept, giving a sort of nave to the Lady chapel.

VII. The windows, however, were, as usual, in the builders’ hands throughout the whole of the fourteenth century—especially those of the dark Norman nave.

In the Curvilinear period flowing tracery was inserted in the lower range of lights in the sanctuary, and improvements were made in the clerestory of the south transept, now that it was to be used as a Lady chapel.

In the Perpendicular period the narrow north aisle of the choir, darkened by Gundulph’s tower on one side and on the other by the solid wall of the choir, was raised, lighted, and vaulted. Then the nave was taken in hand; Perpendicular windows were inserted in the aisles, and a great window in the west end; the whole of the Norman clerestory was taken off, a new clerestory and a new wooden roof were put up. Thus the nave got plenty of light.

VIII. In 1664 the south aisle of the nave was recased; and in 1670 the third, fourth and fifth bays, counting from the west, in the north aisle of the choir, were rebuilt.

IX. In 1830 Cottingham put up the present central tower. In 1871 the cathedral was restored by Scott.

The Cathedral Church of St. Alban.

Of all our cathedrals none is so composite and heterogeneous as the ancient church of the Benedictine abbey of St. Alban. It is mainly built—even the fourteenth-century Lady chapel—of Roman tiles. Saxon balusters appear in the triforium of the transepts. In the nave and transepts and tower is Early Norman work, unequalled in extent and grandeur; in the south transept are built up the fragments of a Late Norman doorway, to which period, or to the first days of the Transitional period (1145-1190), belongs the interlacing arcade now placed above it. In the west front and the western bays of the nave is Lancet work of two periods (1190-1245). In the sanctuary is seen Early Geometrical work (1245-1280); the ante-chapel, commenced in the Early, was finished in the Late Geometrical period (1280-1315). The Lady chapel (1291-1326) is a most interesting example of the transition from the Late Geometrical to the Curvilinear style. The latter is represented by the five eastern bays on the south side of the nave, by the remains of the cloisters, by the shrines of St. Alban and St. Amphibalus, and by the Holy Rood screen (1315-1360). Perpendicular work is represented by the alterations to the cloisters, by the abbey gatehouse, by the triforium windows on the north side of the nave and choir, inserted when the aisle roofs were lowered, by the watching-loft, by the chantries of the Duke of Gloucester and Abbot Wheathampstead, and by the reredos and painted ceiling. Tudor work appears in the chapel of the Transfiguration, and in the admirable chantry of Abbot Ramryge; while the “Gothic revival” is stamped on every feature of Lord Grimthorpe’s façades to the west, north and south. There is not a single hiatus in the series. St. Alban’s is a veritable architectural handbook, written in brick and stone. The student should remember, however, that at St. Alban’s there is a good deal of what is called assimilation. The Lancet bays and the Curvilinear bays in the nave are not typical and characteristic of their respective periods. The architects of these bays had not a free hand. They were not able to compose the design simply to suit the fashion of the day. Their bays were to be Lancet and Curvilinear only so far as might be without ruining the general design and proportions of the nave as a whole. With these reservations, the tyro in architecture is recommended to select St. Alban’s as his “Introduction to Mediæval Architecture.” If he comes from London, he should choose the longer route, by the London & North-Western Railway: he will have less distance to walk on arriving, and will see the cathedral from the most picturesque point of view. If time permits, he should proceed direct from the railway station to Verulamium, and see the Roman walls and fosse, and the interesting church of St. Michael’s, with the famous monument of Lord Bacon, before visiting the cathedral.

In Roman times the town was on the other side of the little river, the Ver, a tributary of the Colne, and hence was called Verulamium. In the revolt of Boadicea it was burnt, but was soon rebuilt. In the year 303, “there was gret persecution of Christen pepell by the tyrant Diocletian”; and Alban, a citizen of Verulamium, who had given shelter to a Welsh priest, Amphibalus, was scourged, and then dragged along the ancient British causeway, which still exists, across the Ver, and up the lane to the top of the hill afterwards called Holmhurst, and there put to death. Amphibalus suffered the same fate. On the west wall of the north transept of the cathedral, just under a round-headed window, is a small black cross cut in stone. “This marks the traditional site of the martyrdom of St. Alban, when there was neither town nor abbey in this place, but only a flowery slope planted with trees.” In the fifth century the English conquered the district. They abandoned Verulamium, and built the present town on the hill of Holmhurst, calling it Watlingceaster, as Watling Street ran through it. In the year 793, Offa, king of Mercia, treacherously murdered Ethelbert, king of East Anglia (see HEREFORD). It was revealed to him in a vision that, by way of penance, he should seek out the body of St. Alban, and there erect a monastery. King, archbishop, bishops, priests, and a great multitude of common people, searched the hill of Holmhurst, and found the relics of the martyr. A church was built, and richly endowed, and was entrusted to Benedictine monks. It remained a Benedictine abbey-church till the Dissolution, in 1539. Then it became a parish church, and in 1875 a cathedral.

The relics of St. Alban had an eventful history. First they were carried off by pirates to Denmark, but were afterwards restored. Then, in expectation of another Danish raid, they were sent for safety to Ely. When the Danes had gone, the monks of Ely, being desirous to keep the precious bones in their possession, palmed on the monks of St. Alban’s some suppositious relics. Whereupon the monks of St. Alban’s asserted that neither had they sent to Ely the genuine relics, but only sham ones, to draw attention away from the fact that they had hidden the authentic bones of the martyr in a hole in the wall of their own church! “_Credat Judæus Apelles._”

Towards the end of the eleventh century Nicholas Breakspear was born at Abbots Langley, in Hertfordshire. He applied to the abbey of St. Alban to be admitted a monk, but was scornfully rejected, and rebuked for his impudence, being, as he was, son of one of the menials of the convent. This same man became Pope in 1154—the only Englishman who ever became Pope. And when he became Pope, under the title of Adrian IV., he forgot not the monks of St. Alban’s, but forgave them, and made their monastery free of episcopal jurisdiction for ever, and subject only to the see of Rome. And to the abbot he gave precedence over all other English abbots; which precedency, after much dispute with Westminster, St. Alban’s retained till the Dissolution.

In 1455 was fought the first battle of St. Albans, when Henry VI. was wounded in the neck by an arrow, and made prisoner by the Yorkists under the Earl of Warwick. The forces met in Holywell Street (where we entered the town), between the Key and the Chequer. In the second battle, 1461, the Earl of Warwick was defeated by Queen Margaret.

St. Alban’s was an exceedingly wealthy abbey; it had estates in almost every county in England, and at the present value of money its income would amount to at least a million. Its conventual buildings must have been immense. One of the guest-halls, in addition to parlours and bedrooms, had stables for three hundred horses. Of all these vast structures nothing remains but one of the gatehouses, built in 1380. In it were detained the French prisoners in the Napoleonic wars; afterwards it became a common gaol, now it houses the Grammar School.

Internally, the church is divided from west to east, in ancient monastic fashion, into (1) nave, (2) choir, (3) sanctuary, (4) Saints’ chapel, (5) retro-choir or ante-chapel, (6) Lady chapel. (1) The ritual nave occupies the ten western bays only of the architectural nave, and terminates at the Holy Rood screen. (2) The ritual choir is not placed in the eastern limb; but, following a far more ancient precedent, in the three eastern bays of the architectural nave, and in the crossing (that part of the transept which is beneath the central tower). This was the place of the choir in the primitive basilicas, and in the early monastic churches. The “Coro” of the Spanish cathedrals is still placed in the nave. The same arrangement survives in this country in Westminster Abbey and Norwich, and has lately been restored at Peterborough. (3) The sanctuary extends from the tower to the great reredos, and provided a free and unencumbered space in front of the high altar, which “dwelt apart.” (4) The Saint’s chapel was occupied, like the feretory at Winchester, by magnificent shrines which towered behind and above the high altar, visible far down the nave, at least before the great reredos was erected. (5) The retro-choir or ante-chapel provided a processional path, or ambulatory, or eastern choir aisle at the back of the shrines. Romsey and Hereford possess the earliest of these processional paths, Winchester the largest. (6) The Lady chapel occupies its normal position, to the extreme east. But where there was no room for farther eastward extension of the cathedral, the Lady chapel may be found on the north or south side of the choir, as at Bristol and Oxford. Here, as at Salisbury and Winchester, the high roofs do not extend over retro-choir and Lady chapel, which are only one story high; at York and Lincoln and Ely, the church retains its full height uninterruptedly to the extreme east end; the ritualistic divisions of the church being marked by screens only.

In Norman times the church did not extend so far eastward. The sanctuary ended in three semicircular apses, of which those of the aisles were semicircular inside but square outside, as at Romsey. And, in lieu of eastern aisles, the transepts had each a pair of little semicircular chapels, the arches leading into which may still be seen in their eastern walls.

“In 1077, Paul, a monk of St. Stephen’s, Caen (the Abbaye-aux-hommes), was elected Abbot, through the influence of Archbishop Lanfranc, whose kinsman he was.” In these words we have the origin of St. Alban’s Cathedral; and not of St. Alban’s only, but of all the mediæval architecture of our land, whether Romanesque or Gothic. Before the Norman conquest we had a native style of our own; a kind of primitive Romanesque, of which remains survive at Jarrow, Wing, Worth, Deerhurst, and elsewhere, as well as in the crypts of Ripon, Hexham, and Repton. But the invasion of the Normans changed all this. The primitive indigenous Romanesque of England was thrown aside in favour of the far more advanced Romanesque of Normandy. From the great monastery of St. Stephen, Caen, came Lanfranc, the first, and Anselm, the second Norman Archbishop of Canterbury. When Lanfranc set to work to rebuild Canterbury Cathedral, he made it in length and breadth and height an exact copy of the church of St. Stephen, Caen. What Lanfranc did at Canterbury, the Walkelins did at Winchester and Ely, and Abbot Paul at St. Alban’s. They set to work to rebuild their churches on the vast scale, and with all the improvements, of the Romanesque architecture of Caen and Normandy. St. Stephen’s, Caen, is therefore the link between the architecture of Normandy and that of England; it is the mother-church of all the cathedrals of our land. More than this: Lanfranc and Anselm were by birth, not Normans, but Italians; Lanfranc was born at Pavia, Anselm at Aosta. Paul was a kinsman of Lanfranc. All three, then, came from the great plain of Lombardy; and it was through such scholars and theologians as these that the architecture of Lombardy found its way into Normandy. For the architecture of Normandy is in character mainly Lombardic. Therefore, just as Canterbury and Winchester and St. Alban’s are the offspring of St. Stephen’s, Caen; so St. Stephen’s itself is the child of S. Ambrogio and S. Eustorgio, Milan; S. Stephen, Verona; S. Sophia, Padua; and other ninth- and tenth-century churches of Lombardy and the neighbourhood.