"In England," wrote Mr J.H. Parker, in his Glossary, "Wells affords the most perfect example of a cathedral with all its parts and appurtenances. It was," he continues, after an enumeration of the parts of the church, "a cathedral proper, and independent of any monastic foundation, but with a separate house for each of its officers, either in the Close or in the Liberty adjoining to it. The bishop's palace was enclosed by a separate moat and fortified, being on the south side of the cloister, from which it is separated by the moat; the houses for the dean and for the archdeacon are on the north side of the Close, with some of the canons' houses; the organist's house is at the west end, adjoining to the singing-school and the cloister; the precentor's house is at the east end, near the Lady Chapel. The vicars-choral have a close of their own adjoining to the north-east corner of the canons' close, with a bridge across through the gate-house into the north transept; they were a collegiate body, with their own chapel, library, and hall." One need only add that all these sentences can still, with one exception, be read in the present tense to show that Wells possesses a beauty and interest which gives it an unique place among cathedral foundations. There is no other cathedral city in which so many of the old ecclesiastical buildings remain, or on which the modern world has made so little impression. The church itself, in Fergusson's opinion perhaps the most beautiful, though one of the smallest in England, is but one part of a "group of buildings, which," wrote Professor Freeman, "as far as I know, has no rival, either in our own island or beyond the sea." The little city to which these buildings belong is itself worthy of them, almost a part of them, so quiet and venerable is it, so picturesque in its lovely setting of green hills.Were size the main distinction of a church, Wells would sink comfortably into the second class; even in some of its best features it has many rivals, but the peculiar charm and glory of Wells lies (to quote again from Freeman's History) "in the union and harmonious grouping of all. The church does not stand alone; it is neither crowded by incongruous buildings, nor yet isolated from those buildings which are its natural and necessary complement. Palace, cloister, Lady Chapel, choir, chapter-house, all join to form one indivisible whole. The series goes on uninterruptedly along that unique bridge, which, by a marvel of ingenuity, connects the church itself with the most perfect of buildings of its own class, the matchless vicars' close. Scattered around we see here and there an ancient house, its gable, its windows, or its turret, falling in with the style and group of greater buildings, and bearing its part in producing the general harmony of all." Thus, in the first place, the group of buildings must be looked at as a whole from the north, from the east, from the south-east; then the superb, unrivalled picture from the rising ground on the Shepton Mallet road,1 outside the city, must be seen, and, when this little journey has been made, the most hurried visitor must find time at least to peep into the vicars' close, and walk round the moat of the palace. After some such general impression has been gained, the study of the exterior of the church will naturally begin with that part which is a peculiar distinction of Wells Cathedral—the west front.The West Front of Wells has been universally admired. Long ago, old Fuller wrote—"The west front of Wells is a masterpiece of art indeed, made of imagery in just proportion, so that we may call them vera et spirantia signa. England affordeth not the like." This verdict is but repeated by modern writers; the front is "quite unrivalled," says Fergusson, and comparable only to Rheims and Chartres. Mr Hughes, in Traill's Social England, goes farther and says2 that "nothing fit to rank with it was then being done in Northern Europe—for the monumental porches of France, formerly supposed to be contemporary, are now recognised as of a later date."

But there has been a discordant note in the general chorus of praise. Professor Freeman, whose admiration for nearly everything in Wells was so intense, could find little to praise in the west front of the cathedral.3 "It is doubtless," he wrote, "the finest display of sculpture in England; but it is thoroughly bad as a piece of architecture. I am always glad when I get round the corner, and can rest my eye on the massive and simple majesty of the nave and transepts. The west front is bad because it is a sham—because it is not the real ending of the nave and aisles, but a mere mask, devised, in order to gain greater room for the display of statues ... The front is not the natural finish of the nave and aisles; it is a blank wall built up in a shape which is not the shape which their endings would naturally assume. It is therefore a sham; it is a sin against the first law of architectural design, the law that enrichment should be sought in ornamenting the construction ... not in building up anything simply for the sake of effect." He then proceeds to criticise the way in which the windows and doorways "are stowed away as they best may be," as if they were felt to be mere interruptions to the lines of sculpture.

This latter objection to the doorways had often been made before, only that the "rabbit-holes on a mountain side" of earlier critics became "mouse-holes" with Mr Freeman. Mr E.W. Godwin, in a lecture in 1862, had also found fault with the crowding in of the niches over the central doorway, which he declared to be in the highest degree clumsy; with the bald appearance given by the shallowness of the reveals in the principal windows; and with the way in which "the solid work of the base suddenly crops up at the very summit of the two central buttresses, not altogether unlike the dog-kennel of modern Gothic."

Of these criticisms the most serious is Mr Freeman's general charge of unreality. But why should not a stone screen be erected for the display of statuary before the west end of a church, just as lawfully as behind the high altar? And, if a screen may be allowed as an end in itself, standing simply as a thing of beauty to glorify a building of which it is not a structural part, then the front of Wells may stand, like the reredos of Winchester, as the noblest example of its kind. It has no need to simulate lofty aisles which do not exist, for it covers, not the aisles, but the faces of the great towers themselves; and, as a consequence, the portion of really blank wall which stretches from them to the central gable is so small as to be more than justified by the cohesion it gives to the whole. The whole effect is singularly broad, but so is the space it covers within; for this breadth is legitimately attained by the happy device of planting the western towers beyond the aisles.

The massive front of Wells stands, therefore, on its own merits as a west front, and not merely a west end—a great stone screen that, so far from pretending to be a regular termination of the nave and aisles, is actually carried, in all its sculptured magnificence, round the sides of the two towers upon which it so frankly depends. It is a screen built at a period different from, and, we may now safely assume, later than, that of the nave, and built for the exhibition of a noble legend in stone, which has ever since been the glory of a county famed for its splendid churches.

Taking it then for what it is, and remembering that the lower tiers were once filled with statuary, can we regret that the doorways themselves were subordinated to the one grand design of accommodating this great multitude of silent teachers? The great doorways of French churches are magnificent in themselves, but that is surely no reason why we should make it an axiom that a front cannot be fine unless it have a great doorway. Striking as the effect of these foreign entrances may be, there is no structural reason why a door should be of an unwieldy size out of all proportion to the stature of the people who use it, so that a smaller door has to be cut for ordinary use out of the real door. It certainly, as even at Amiens, limits the sculptor's opportunities; and in a country like England, where doors can only be kept open for a few weeks in the year, great doorways would be as inappropriate as closed doors are forbidding. As a matter of fact, the usual entrance to Wells Cathedral in Jocelin's time was not from the west, but through the cloister and the south porch. And the central entrance of the west was made impressive, not by its size, but by the exquisite nature of its carving, and the blue and scarlet and gold with which it was coloured. It was not insignificant then. It had the prominence of a jewel. Moreover, in French churches, where the exterior is sacrificed to the internal effect, there is some wisdom in concentrating attention upon the doorway. But in English churches—and in Wells, perhaps, more than any other English church—the exteriors are perfect in themselves, and the visitor need not be tempted to hurry to their portals. After all, if the rabbit-holes on a mountain-side looked as large as quarries, the mountain would not look like a mountain.

There are, moreover, three faults in the front as it now stands which cannot be attributed to its maker. In the first place, it is undoubtedly a little formal, a little square, and this defect is particularly marked in the photographs which one sees everywhere. Unfortunately this picture, which is too small to show the detail, gives no idea whatever of the general external effect of the church. It gives the impression that Wells Cathedral is a glorified wall, because the photograph cannot show the other parts upon which the front depends. The architect, no doubt, intended the towers to be carried higher or surmounted with spires, and though no trace of any stone erection has been found on the tops of the present towers, they may once have been crowned with wooden spires covered with lead or shingle. One need hardly say how vast a difference such lofty towers as exist at Laon Cathedral, or spires like those of Lichfield, would make in the effect of the front. They would also account for the great size of the buttresses, which seem to have been built with a view to sustaining a great weight.

A disagreeable impression is also caused by the row of hip-knobs along the coping of the central gable, and the pinnacle in their midst. This collection of curiosities was probably added in the seventeenth century, and the pinnacle may have been taken from one of the denuded buttresses of the Lady Chapel to replace the gable cross which must have originally stood here: at all events it is a later addition, as was proved by an examination of the masonry. It would be an act of justice to the memory of Jocelin if these trivial excrescences were removed.

Perhaps one is even more distressed on first seeing the front by a third fault—the weak and stringy effect of the long, thin, dark, marble shafts. For this the restorer, Mr Benjamin Ferrey, must bear the blame. He complained with justice that the original blue lias shafts, when they were decayed, had been replaced by the ordinary Doulting stone.4 But, unhappily, he did not go back to the original material, but fitted the whole front with a complete set of shafts of Kilkenny marble, which is at once dark and cold. They absolutely refuse to blend with the old, warm, grey stone, and stand out, stark and stiff, like an array of gigantic slate pencils. Mr Ferrey was possessed with the idea that the blue lias shafts (having only lasted for a paltry half-dozen centuries) were not durable enough for the work. He therefore used this marble, which, doubtless, will stand in increased obtrusiveness when every stone of the cathedral has decayed. He further was impressed with the strange notion that the hideous Kilkenny marble is of the same colour as the exquisitely delicate grey of the blue lias. The result is a sad warning to all restorers not to be more clever than the original architect.

Let us, then, try to imagine the west front with its empty lowest tier filled with graceful figures, its gable in its first simplicity and surmounted by a cross, its towers of Early English form crowned with lofty spires, its delicate shafts of their original material, and its ranges of figures "all gorgeous in their freshly-painted hues of blue and scarlet and purple and gold." Then we shall have some idea of the front of Wells as Jocelin meant it to be and to remain.

As for the colour, its effect can be gathered from the traces which survive. There is ultramarine, gold, and scarlet in the tympanum of the central doorway, where there are also the marks of metal fittings. Ferrey found a deep maroon colour on the figures of the Apostles, and a dark colour painted with stars in the Resurrection tier. One of the chief glories of the front is the faithful care which is given throughout to the smaller features. The mouldings (a succession of rounds and hollows) are most bold and effective; the carving of the foliage in caps and canopies, tympana, pedestals, and terminals is singularly beautiful and free. This impression is deepened by a minute examination; indeed, it is almost a matter of regret that some of the finest work is at such a height as to be almost impossible to see; for in all the earlier work at Wells the Lamp of Sacrifice burns brightly. Mr Ferry pointed out an instance, which may be given here, of the care with which minor matters were thought out:—In order that the lowest tier might not look weak and yet might provide a sufficient shadow for the statues, the backs of the niches are set at a slightly recessed angle in the centre, and thus an effect of strength is given to the angular jambs. Indeed, there may be differences of opinion as to the general design of the west front, but there can be none as to the supreme excellence of its detail. It is beyond doubt the most rich example of Early English work to be found anywhere. The crown of its glories, the justification of its form, did it need justification, are the frail statues which line it, tier upon tier.

Vertically the west front is divided into three main parts—the centre, containing the three lancet windows of the nave and the main doorway, is surmounted by a gable receding in stages with a pinnacle at either angle; and the two lateral towers, the lower portion of which form one continuous screen with the centre, broken only by the boldly projecting buttresses, of which each division possesses two. Horizontally the front divides itself naturally into four parts—the plain base, which is high enough to contain the full height of the small north and south doorways. One of the stones in this division, about the level of the eye, and near the middle, which has evidently been moved from some other place, bears the inscription, Pur lalme Johan de Putenie priez et trieze jurs de ... Next is an arcade of niches interspersed with windows, the space above being pierced by quatrefoils. The third division contains the three lancet windows, the forms of which are repeated on the north and south, breaking the line of the two historical tiers of niches which, with the Resurrection tier, adorn this main division of the front. A bold string course marks it off firmly and decisively from the fourth and upper division, in which the three parts of the front become separate, the towers at each side and the stepped gable, flanked by two graceful Early English pinnacles, in the middle. The statuary is mainly confined to the arcading of the second division, to the buttresses of the third, with its continuous cornice of the Resurrection tier, and to the gable front of the fourth; but the amount of it is largely increased by the fact that the work is carried round three sides of the north-western tower, which only touches the church on one side. The niches on the sides of the south-western tower are almost empty.The Statuary.—The statuary is not only the finest collection of medieval sculpture to be found in England; but, separately, the figures are with few exceptions finer than any others in this country, while some of them are almost as beautiful as the greatest masterpieces in Italy or France. It is strange that here, at the outset of the Gothic period, the chief characteristics of the old Greek spirit should be so apparent, the same restraint, the same simplicity, the same exquisite appreciation of light and flowing drapery: in other things there is difference enough, the form is less perfect, the action is less free, though there is a deeper sentiment and a higher power of spiritual expression; but in the essentials of sublime statuary there is a singular agreement.

And, strange though it seems, it may well be that in these statues one must look for the first signs of the influence of the Renaissance in England. Romanesque work has but just died out, and already the old spirit, destined in time to supplant the architecture which sprung from it, is at work again. While the statues were being cut at Wells, Niccola Pisano was reviving sculpture in Italy under the inspiration of classical examples; and there can be little doubt but that it was Italian sculptors who produced the statuary at Wells. Some of the figures on the northern part of the front have been found to be marked with Arabic numerals (Somerset Proceedings 1888, i. 57, 62), and these numerals, which did not become common in England till the sixteenth century, were used in Italy long before, having been introduced by Bonacci of Pisa (a fellow-citizen of Niccola) in 1202. That they are found here before the middle of the century is a fairly conclusive proof that the workers were Italians, and very likely from Pisa itself. Jocelin, indeed, was English, but he had been in exile from 1208 to 1213, when he had ample opportunity of studying the work of the Italian artists. Pleasant as it would be to our national pride, we can hardly believe that Englishmen produced what seems to be the earliest example of such magnificent and varied sculpture in north-western Europe. At Jocelin's death, in 1242, when the work had been going on for some thirty years, Niccola Pisano was in his prime, Cimabue was two years old, and forty years had yet to elapse before the rival sculpture of Amiens Cathedral was executed.

Mr Ruskin, whose admiration of the work at Amiens is so intense, has given almost as high praise to the sculpture at Wells, and has presented sets of photographs of the statuary to various art schools. The verdict of enthusiastic approval is, in fact, unanimous. Flaxman, to his credit, in spite of his classicalism, was one of the first to draw attention to the work. Whoever was the general designer of the whole arrangement, he deserves as great praise as the sculptors themselves. There must have been several sculptors, both because no one man could have carved three hundred and fifty subjects (of which one hundred and fifty-two are life-size or colossal), and because a certain number of the figures in the fourth and fifth tiers are of obviously inferior design. But one master-mind must have conceived and directed the work. The height and lightness which is given to the gable by the tall row of the Apostles, the solemn prominence of the figure of our Lord above, the rich cornice-like effect of the small Resurrection tier, the difference in height between the fourth and fifth tiers, the concentration of the three lower tiers, the breadth which the seated figures give to the face of the buttresses, the arrangement of the statues and groups round the buttresses, which makes it impossible for them all to be seen at once, all show that one mind was busy, carefully subordinating the parts to the whole.

It may well have been Jocelin himself who planned the subject-matter of the statuary with such admirable breadth and balance of mind. It is easy to produce sermons in stones, easy to sermonise in very many ways; but Jocelin did not preach. He just tried to embody the Christian spirit at work in the world: God made manifest in man, the great truth of the Incarnation; and this he did in what we should call the most modern manner, though in truth it is medieval as well as modern. He did not conceive of Christianity as confined within the covers of the Bible, but he took all history, as he knew it, the patient education of man in the Old Testament, the fulfilment of man's aspirations and God's purpose in the New, from the birth of our Lord to the founding of the Church, and the continuation of this church up to his own time, with especial regard to the heroes, saints and rulers of the Church of England. He made a "kalendar for unlearned men," which is both a Biblia Pauperum and Annales Angliae, because the annals of England were to him a new Bible. "Slowly the Bible of the race is writ," a modern writer has said, "each age, each kindred, adds a word to it." That was the spirit of Jocelin's design; only that, through the pomp of mighty kings and fair women and honoured bishops, he looked to the naked truth of the judgment time, when mitres and crowns would remain but as signs of an awful responsibility, and the divine justice, so tried, so obscured on earth, would be vindicated before the angels who are quick to do God's will, and the twelve plain men who turned the mighty currents of the world. Such was the spirit of a man who lived in the days of St. Francis and St. Louis, Stephen Langton and Roger Bacon.

Before commencing a detailed description of the statuary, one must refer to Professor Cockerell, R.A., whose enthusiastic love of the work led him to construct a theory which he published in 1851, as an Iconography of the West Front. There can be little doubt that he was right in his general idea; there can be equally little doubt that he was wrong in nearly every application of it. Everyone now, for instance, takes it for granted that the south side of the front is mainly "spiritual," devoted to ecclesiastics, while the north is "temporal"; and that the whole of the fourth and fifth tiers do represent certain leading historical figures. But when we read Cockerell's reasons for identifying these figures we recoil in dismay. His knowledge of history is superficial, of costume he knows practically nothing; his drawings are as inaccurate as his imagination is fertile, and he states as obvious facts the wildest conjectures. Further reference will be found to his book in our description of the fourth and fifth tiers. It was at least an honest labour of love, and Cockerell deserves the honour, as he had to endure the disadvantages, of being the first in the field.

The central doorway may be taken before the lowest tier. Its soffit contains an evident addition, as if the architect felt that it needed emphasising by some enrichment. In the first of its four deeply-wrought mouldings a series of niches, five on each side, with small delicately-carved figures, has been inserted, evidently after the arch was made; they are cut from a different stone (white lias), and are skilfully fitted and grooved into the back of the large sunk moulding. They add considerably to the effect of the arch, although all the heads of the figures have been destroyed. It is characteristic of Cockerell's random method of conjecture, that he declared these figures to be representations of the Ten Commandments.

1. The tympanum under the arch and above the double opening of the doorway contains a quatrefoil, in which is a noble sculpture of the Madonna and Child. The head of the Mother and the upper half of the Child are gone, but the drapery that remains is of quite perfect grace and dignity. A serpent is under the feet of the Madonna, who is sitting on a throne; angels censing are on either side without the quatrefoil. A good deal of the old colour which once gave this central group a peculiar brilliancy can still be traced on this protected sculpture; the background was ultramarine, the mouldings red and gold. The figures were also gilded in part, and there are marks on the wall to show that a metal nimbus was once attached to it.

2. In a canopy above the arch is another sculpture of equal beauty, though, owing to its more exposed position, the treatment is a little broader. It represents the coronation of Our Lady; both the heads and all the hands are gone. The two figures are both seated on one long bench, and our Lord leans forward to place the crown upon his Mother's head.

THE TIERS.

In order to avoid any possible mistake I have taken each tier from right to left, specifying the gaps, windows, and buttresses, to facilitate identification, and commencing with the lowest tier. I have also numbered the figures afresh, because of the confusion which has hitherto caused great waste of time to every one who has attempted to identify them. Cockerell's numbers are the only ones that are at all accurate (and he omits the two figures on the extreme south of the fourth and fifth tiers); but, as he recommenced his enumeration with each series, they are not much use for purposes of identification. There are mistakes and omissions in the enumeration of the photographs, there are mistakes in the album in the cathedral library, the photographs in the South Kensington Museum are hopelessly muddled, and even the descriptions of the restorer, Mr Ferrey, are so arranged that it takes days to identify them, while some of them elude one's efforts altogether. I have, therefore, numbered the statues and groups in a continuous order from bottom to top, so that comparison with photographs will in the future be easy. In the case of work most of which can only be seen from a distance, the study of photographs is absolutely necessary for a full appreciation of their beauty, more especially as in very many cases the photographs reveal the form which the accidents of discoloration have partly concealed. Mr Phillips of 10 Market Place has an almost complete set of admirable photographs, which he was enabled to take when the scaffolding was up for the restoration of 1870-73: it is these which Mr Ruskin has so much admired.

As there are so many statues, some of inferior interest and beauty, I have ventured to put an asterisk (*) to those which I think no one should fail to see; and, in almost every case, I have but echoed the general verdict.

The Lowest Tier.—This tier contains sixty-two niches, forty-three of which are empty, so fatally convenient has their position been for the iconoclast. Of those which remain nearly all are on the north side of the tower, so that at first sight the tier seems to be quite empty. The loss here has been the greater because the figures were of the finest kind, as well as the most easily seen: those remaining are certainly of the most exquisite loveliness. Cockerell's theory that this tier represents the heralds of the gospel, prophets and missionaries, has nothing to support it.

It seems to me not unlikely that the tier was devoted to some of the most popular saints in the calendar; the position, so near the passer-by, would have suited this arrangement, and the front must have been singularly deficient in saints if it were otherwise. The figures which remain, a group of deacons, a group of bearded figures holding books, and of women bearing religious attributes, might well stand for saints.

3. South Tower. Male figure, much decayed, held by metal clamps.

4. Male figure, much decayed, held by metal clamps.

Rest of figures missing along west front up to—

5. North Tower. Male figure, much decayed, holds book.

6. A similar figure.

Missing.

7. North Buttress. Male figure, which held some drapery in front.

8. North Buttress. Male figure, holding a vessel in right hand covered with a cloth, the end of which was in left hand. [Cockerell calls this St. Augustine, erroneously supposing this cloth to be the pallium.]

9. Beautiful female figure,* drapery resembling a chasuble; hands gone.

10. Female figure with flowing hair; hands gone.

11. Female figure, wimple round head, in left hand holds a vessel, right hand is on the edge of the vessel, the fingers dipping in.

12. Female figure,* hood over head, holds in right hand the foot of a chalice, and with her left the fold of her dress in front.

13. Tall male figure, bearded, holding closed book; in good preservation.

14. Male figure, bearded; hands gone.

15. Buttress. Male figure, bearded, with flowing hair; hands gone.

16. Buttress. Male figure, bearded, holding open book in left hand; upper part moulding away.

17. Deacon* in dalmatic, alb, amice, holding open book in left hand, right hand gone; drapery is wonderfully fine. (This and the remaining figures are tonsured and shaven.)

18. Deacon,* a beautiful figure, (apparently in dalmatic), amice; left hand gone.

19. Deacon, in girded alb, ends of girdle hanging down, wears the folded chasuble (very rare in art) over left shoulder, maniple; holds book with both hands.

Missing.

20. Buttress. Deacon, in girded alb, amice, stole over left shoulder, book in left hand. Besides ends of girdle, end of a stole is visible on left side, as if a crossed stole had first been carved and this end forgotten.

21. Buttress. Deacon,* stole worn over left shoulder, maniple, but no amice and no girdle; wears instead of alb a surplice with full sleeves—an unusual combination.

Second Tier.—The next tier (22-53) consists of thirty-two quatrefoils, some of which are now empty. The rest contain half-length figures of angels, holding crowns, mitres, scrolls, or drapery in their hands.Third Tier.—This, which we may call the Bible Tier, consists of forty-eight quatrefoils, ranged close above the quatrefoils of the second tier, and broken in the centre by the larger sculpture of the Coronation of the Virgin (2). The subjects are all from the Bible, those on the south from the Old Testament, dealing with the first things, while those on the north and on the north and east sides of the northern tower are from the New Testament, and represent the life and mission of our Lord. The iconoclasts seem to have concentrated their attention on those earlier New Testament groups, which would contain the figure of our Lady, and they have made the Crucifixion almost unrecognisable. The figures are about two feet high.

Empty.

54. The Death of Jacob.

55. Isaac blessing Jacob, who leans over him.

56. Meeting of Isaac and Rebecca, probably.

57. Noah sacrificing on Ararat. Very fine.

58. The Ark. A curious structure, raised pyramidally in four tiers, with open arcades, in which birds and beasts are seen. Below is the Flood.

59. Noah building the Ark.* He is in workman's dress, and wears a cap; he is working at a bench, beneath which are his tools. Behind is the ark, and an "Early English" tree.

60. God decreeing the Deluge.* In great wrath Jehovah approaches a man who sits pensively on a hill-side: from behind the man's head springs a demon. The figure of Jehovah is admirably expressed.

Empty.

61. Abraham about to sacrifice Isaac, who is bound on a bundle of wood. Cockerell called this the Sacrifice of Cain, which certainly suits its position better.

62. Adam delves and Eve spins. Fine.

Empty.

63. Jehovah in the Garden. A draped figure, addressing two figures naked and ashamed.

64. The Temptation. The serpent's body is coiled round the tree near Adam, and his head hovers above with an apple in the mouth. Adam is already eating the fruit.

65. God placing Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.

66. The Creation of Eve.

67. The Creation of Adam. The figure of the Almighty in each of these three is magnificent, especially in the last.

Empty.

Over central doorway. 2. Coronation of the Virgin (p. 34).

Here follow eighteen New Testament subjects.

68. St. John the Evangelist*; he is winged. A book rests on the back of an eagle. The idea of inspiration could not be more finely expressed.

Empty. (Perhaps the Annunciation was here.)

Empty. (Perhaps the Visitation.)

69. The Nativity. Mutilated.

Empty.

Empty.

Empty.

Empty.

Empty.

Empty.

70. Christ among the Doctors: the Holy Child is a very small figure on a pedestal. A most expressive group.

71. St. John Baptist, clothed in camels' hair, in the wilderness. (An angel appearing from the clouds, broken off since 1862. The fragment is now in No. 72).

72. Figures in critical attitudes. Perhaps the Sermon on the Mount.

Empty.

73. Christ in the Wilderness, probably.

74. Figures in intent attitudes. Perhaps the Mission of the Apostles.

75. Five figures seated at a table. Perhaps the Anointing of Christ's feet.

76. Figure on a Mount surrounded by many figures. Perhaps the Feeding of the Five Thousand. North side of Tower.

77. Christ, sitting, with other figures. Perhaps the Feeding of the Four Thousand.

78. The Transfiguration.* A fine composition, two of the Apostles crouching in the foreground.

79. The Entry into Jerusalem. Under the city gate two men strew clothes and branches: from the walls and tower many people are looking.

80. The Betrayal. Chief priest with mitred head-dress in centre: winged devil holds up the train of right figure. On left a figure holds open a money-box.

81. The Last Supper.* The Virgin kneels to receive the Communion from her Son: St. John's head rests on His bosom. The drapery is very fine. Underneath are a bottle and a basket.

Empty.

82. Christ before Pilate.

83. Christ bearing the Cross. Mutilated.

84. The Elevation of the Cross. Much mutilated.

85. The Deposition. Much mutilated.

Empty.

86. The Resurrection. An angel on either side, guards below.

87. Pentecost: the Birthday of Holy Church. A dignified group of figures.

Fourth and Fifth Tiers.—The fourth and fifth tiers contained at least 120 figures (about a dozen of which are gone), varying in height from 7 ft. 10 in. to 8 ft. 1 in., a few running as high as 8 ft. 10 in. They no doubt represent the kings, bishops, and heroes of English history from Egbert to Henry II. Cockerell was probably right in his general interpretation of the series, but it is easy to prove that he is wrong in many of the names he gives. It is not so easy to suggest any better, and therefore his names have stuck to the figures, since people naturally like to know them by something more interesting than a number. I shall therefore adopt his nomenclature, with the admission that equally good grounds could be given in almost every case for some other theory. Besides Mr Ferrey's account (Inst. Brit. Arch., 1870), quoted in inverted commas, Cockerell's descriptions, inaccurate as they are, have been consulted, and also Mr PlanchÉ's criticism of Cockerell.

The word Buttress means that the figure (generally a sitting one) is on the west face of the buttress in question. Bishops ("Bp."), unless otherwise stated, wear the usual vestments—mitre, chasuble, dalmatic, tunicle, stole, maniple, alb, and apparelled amice. Kings ("K.") and Queens ("Q.") wear crowns. A favourite attitude is described as "holding cord"; this cord being the lace or cord of the mantle, which crossed the chest and prevented that garment from falling off the shoulders. The mantle seems to have had an uncomfortable tendency to slip down, and thus it became a habit constantly to pull the cord forward, whence the frequency of this attitude. This cord was wrongly described by Cockerell as a necklace, with which it has, of course, no connection. The word "trampling" refers to another common feature in these tiers; kings are generally represented as trampling on a small figure under their feet, to signify their success over their enemies. The figures of the fifth tier are rather taller than those of the fourth. The first twenty figures on our list, those of the fourth tier up to King Ina, may represent the twenty bishops of the diocese from Athelm to Jocelin, in direct order, since the corresponding series of the fifth tier contains figures which cannot be those of bishops. I have, however, kept to Cockerell's names to avoid confusion.

Fourth Tier.—88. South Tower—Buttress—Sitting Bp.; much decayed, supported by metal clamps.

89. Bp. Savaric. Much defaced, head grotesquely so.

90. Bp. Robert. Much defaced, head grotesquely.

Missing.

91. Buttress. Bp. Reginald de Bohun, sitting; somewhat decayed.

92. Bp. Ethelweard, good drapery, well—preserved; no hair or beard.

93. Sighelm, good drapery, well-preserved; ring of curly hair and beard.

94. Alfry, in hood; large curly beard.

95. Etheleage, monastic dress, cowl and scapular; large curly beard.

96. Bp. Asser. Short and stout figure, in attitude of benediction.

97. Bp. Heahmund. Short and stout figure, in attitude of benediction.

98. Buttress. Bp. Wolfhelm. Fine seated figure, in attitude of benediction.

99. Bp. Ealhstan. Stout common-place figure; rather mutilated.

100. Bp. Wilbert. Stout common-place figure; rather mutilated.

101. Bp. Denefrith. Stout common-place figure; better preserved.

102. Bp. Ethelnod. Stout common-place figure; better preserved.

103. Buttress. Bp. Aethelhelm, first Bishop of Wells* (reproduced on p. 22). Noble figure, sitting in attitude of benediction.

104. Bp. Herewald, in attitude of benediction.

105. Bp. Forthere, head bent slightly forward.

106. Bp. Ealdhelm. A fine figure. Central Window (South).

107. K. Ina, looking over right shoulder, hand gone. (These central figures, Ina and Ethelburga, are supposed to be of later date than the rest.) Central Window.

108. Q. Ethelburga. Wears the long kirtle with girdle, from which are hung an ink-bottle and aulmoniere. Central Window (North).

109. K. Egbert, trampling, bearded; cloak falls in a graceful sweep from right to left.

110. K. Ethelwulf, bearded. A very short figure, but raised on high stone (crouching figure?) higher than the others.

111. K. Ethelbald; decayed.

112. Buttress. K. Edgar, sitting, flat cap on head. 113. K. Ethelbert, smooth face, trampling; apparently holds fragment of sceptre in right hand, cord of mantle with left.

114. K. Ethelred I., smooth face, trampling, gracefully draped cloak, holds fragment of sceptre apparently in right, and something indistinct in left hand.

115. K. Edwy, left arm raised, holding cloak, which is over right shoulder.

116. K. Edward the Martyr, bearded, holding cup (his usual symbol) in left hand, trampling. This is one of the most likely ascriptions.

117. Buttress. K. Edmund, sitting, right arm uplifted, left resting on knee. Fast decaying.

118. K. Ethelred the Unready, bearded, short figure, trampling, but the trampled figure leans easily on its elbow.

119. K. Cnut, bearded, short figure, trampling, but the trampled figure is apparently still struggling.

120. Q. Osburga,* in long supertunic, with ample sleeves, falling in folds over the feet. The tight sleeve of her kirtle appears on left arm, which holds cord of mantle. Head and neck in the wimple which was not in thirteenth century distinctive of nun's dress. Book in right hand.

121. Q. Emma, in flowing supertunic with ample sleeves, and wimple; hands gone.

122. Harold I., no head covering, trampling; hands touching girdle.

123. Harthacnut, like II old, but hands and part of face gone.

124. Buttress. K. Edred, sitting, right hand on knee, left raised to cord, drapery crossed.

125. Q. Edgitha, mantle falls round over left foot.

126. Edmund Ironside.* Knight in surcoat over chain armour, hauberk but no helmet; right arm and left hand gone, but head turned to left and attitude is that of drawing or sheathing his sword.

127. Harold. Knight, hauberk and surcoat of mail, cylindrical helmet, shield on left side; delapidated.

128. North Side of Tower. Buttress. Edward the Confessor, in cap; sitting in attitude of judgment (PlanchÉ), left hand resting on right ankle, this leg being crossed over left knee.

129. Prince Richard.* Crowned figure of great beauty, bearded, head slightly bent to left with a melancholy expression; hands gone.

130. Robert Curthouse,* bearded, the right hand draws aside part of the surcoat, exposing right leg in curious hose; left leg covered by surcoat.

131. K. Rufus,* bearded, right hand holds cord of mantle, left holds border of mantle across his body.

132. Q. Matilda, flowing hair, holds mantle in left hand.

133. Emperor Henry, crowned, holds cord of mantle, with right hand fingering end of his girdle.

134. K. Stephen, right hand holds cord of mantle, left on girdle.

135. K. Henry II., end of cloak thrown over shoulder, holds the fold with both hands; in good preservation.

136. Buttress. K. William the Conqueror, sitting in menacing attitude, elbows projecting, and hands upon knees.137. Prince Henry. A dignified figure; hands gone.

138. Prince Geoffrey. Beautiful figure, head gone, holds cord of mantle, loose sleeves, and good drapery. (Ferrey is wrong in calling this a female figure.)

139. Q. Maude the Good, flowing hair, left hand on girdle of supertunic, dress fastened at neck with "a beautiful jewel" (Ferrey).

140. Adelais. Graceful figure, with flowing hair.

141. Buttress. K. Henry I., sitting in defiant attitude, right arm akimbo, left knee raised, foot on pedestal.

Missing.

Missing.

Missing.

142. K. John.* A beautiful figure.

143. Henry III., no crown, standing, but right knee raised to suit the weathering of aisle roof.

Fifth Tier.—144. South Tower. Buttress on the south side. Sitting Bp., supported by metal clamps.

145. Bp. J. de Villula; hands gone, much decayed, clamped.

146. Bp. Gisa; hands gone.

147. Bp. Duduc*; right hand gone, book in left.

148. Buttress. Bp. Lyfing; decayed.

149. Bp. Merewit; hands gone.

150. Bp. Brihtwine; hands gone.

151. Aethelwine. Fine figure with long wavy beard spreading at end, hood and mantle, aulmoniere at girdle.

152. Burwold, tall bearded figure in hood, satchel (?) hanging from girdle.

153. Bp. Aelfwine.* Beautiful figure in cowl, curly hair and beard, finely draped habit with loose sleeves.

154. Bp. Sigegar, book in left hand.

155. Buttress. Bp. Brithelm, head turned to right; decayed.

156. Bp. Cyneward.

157. Bp. Wulfhelm. A fine figure.

158. Bp. Elfege. A fine figure.

159. Edfleda, flowing hair, in supertunic or surcoat with long and wide sleeves, head covered with veil, which hangs behind, no wimple. Nothing conventual to suggest Edfleda.

160. Buttress. K. Edward the Elder. Fine figure, right hand on knees, left on cord of mantle.

Missing.

161. Edgitha. Very tall figure, right hand on cord, left holds end of veil.

Missing.

Central Window (South).

162. Q. Edgiva, kirtle only, with crown and veil, no wimple.

Central Window.

163. Ethilda. Wears supertunic over her kirtle, veil and wimple.

Central Window (North).

164. Hugh. A sword hangs from his girdle on left side.

165. Elgiva.

166. Q. Edgiva; hands gone.

167. Buttress. K. Ethelstan, defiant attitude, right foot on stool, wears brooch.

168. K. Charles the Simple. A squat figure with very big head, trampling.

169. Otho, close-fitting tunic, over which is mantle with handsome fastening.

Missing.

170. Guthrum. Knight in surcoat, mail hauberk and chausses, shield on left side.

171. Buttress. K. Alfred, seated; both hands gone, front decayed, and clamped.

172. Earl of Mercia.* Knight in helmet with cross-slit, holding right hand up and shield upon left arm; the surcoat turned over below the waist shows a suit of mail. Well preserved.

173. St. Neot (more probably St. Decuman, as St. Neot was not beheaded). Bp. holding with both hands the upper part of his head, which has been cut off across the brows.

174. Ethelfleda,* the Lady of the Mercians. A striking and beautiful figure with flowing hair, long veil hanging below the waist, supertunic held by brooch, but without sleeves, the tight sleeves of her kirtle being visible to the shoulders.

175. Ethelward. Woman with flowing hair, veil; hands gone.

176. Grimbald. Priest; hands gone.

177. St. Elfege, Archb.; hands gone; a noble figure.

178. Buttress. St. Dunstan, upper part decayed.

179. Turketul. Short figure, trampling, in very pointed cloak, big head in cap.

180. John Scotus.* A beautiful figure, with exquisitively fine drapery that looks as thin as gauze.

Missing.

181. North Side of Tower.—Buttress. Robert, Archbishop of Canterbury, standing, holding book in right hand, left hand gone; no mitre.

182. Q. Elgiva, drapery falls from left shoulder, is folded over right arm; book in left hand.

183. Q. Edgitha. Tall, gaunt figure; veil falls in long folds to knee, right arm close to side, left hand holds cord.

184. Q. Edburga, circlet round head, brooch on her breast, holds drapery in right hand.

Missing.

Missing.

185. Christina, Abbess of Romsey.* Beautiful female figure, holding box in left hand: "her dress is peculiar": one end of veil is caught over right shoulder, the other falls down in front on right side (p. 31).

186. Wulston of Winchester, bearded, "with distended ears"; right hand gone.

187. Buttress. Archb. Aldred of York, sitting; "mitre modern," it is conical in shape.

188. Edgar Atheling. Knight, spurred, in surcoat only, with sword girded outside, no mail, but close-fitting cap and fillet on head: the fillet was used for the large cylindrical helmet to rest on. He carries what may be a palmer's hat (Cockerell points out that Edgar went on a pilgrimage); but PlanchÉ says it must be a small Saxon buckler, as pilgrims did not carry swords. It certainly looks like a hat.

189. Robert the Saxon. Knight in hauberk, without mail, but feet spurred, cap on head, shield and sword.

190. Falk of Anjou. Knight in hauberk and chausses of mail, hood of hauberk enclosing whole head except a portion of the face: on head is the thick fillet. He covers his body with a shield. His surcoat is deeply jagged.

191. Robert of Normandy. Knight, in hauberk and complete suit of mail, in good preservation, shield with boss on it held down: he wears cyclindrical helmet, his eyes and nose being visible through the slit.

192. Buttress. B. Roger of Salisbury, sitting, without mitre.Missing.

Missing.

193. Female figure, holding drapery with right arm, left hand on side.

194. St. Nicholas, the patron saint of baptism, stands in water up to knees, holding a child in each arm. This ascription is approved by PlanchÉ. (He is commonly called by children "the pancake man," the conventional water suggesting round cakes).

195. Female figure, in good preservation, but clamped in a sloping position, drapery good.

The Resurrection Tier.—The sixth tier (195-283) consists of a series of small canopies which run continuously under the cornice that finishes the main division of the front. Above and around, the spandrels are filled with beautiful foliage most boldly undercut. Each of the eighty-eight canopies (of which thirty are on the north side) contains a figure, or group of figures, representing the Resurrection of the dead. In spite of a rather defective anatomy, these figures are singularly impressive, "startling in significance, pathos, and expression," are Cockerell's words. They are naked—crowns, mitres, and tonsures alone remaining to distinguish their office. They awaken by degrees, heave up the lids of their tombs, and draw themselves up slowly, as if scarcely yet awake. Some sit in a strange dreamy posture with folded arms, some seem expectant, others are in attitudes of fear, hope, defiance, and despair. There are none of the grotesque accessories which are too common in ancient representations of this subject, but the awful feeling of a great awakening shivers along this range of naked, grey, stone figures. It is probably the earliest representation of the subject in art; it is certainly the most profound and spiritual.

The Angels' Tier.—This is immediately above the Resurrection Tier, and occupies the lower part of the gable only. The angelic figures stand in nine low niches with well-moulded trefoil heads that rested on blue lias shafts; the two niches on the returns of the buttresses also contain angels, which are represented as blowing trumpets. In all probability the nine figures symbolise the nine orders of the heavenly hierarchy, and I have ventured to give the names which the attributes and position suggest to my mind as the most likely. Mr Ferrey's account is quoted in inverted commas: it must be remembered that he had the advantage of a close inspection from the scaffolding.

284. Thrones. "Angel holding an open book," two wings, long robe, facing to his right.

285. Cherubim. "Seraph," with four wings, "apparently holding a banner," decayed.

286. Seraphim. "Seraph," with four wings, "entirely feathered, with bare legs and feet," face gone.

287. Dominations. "Angel wearing a helmet," in vigorous attitude, two wings, "too dilapidated to make out what its attributes are."

288. (Central Figure). Powers. "Beautifully robed, holding a sceptre," two wings: the dress is very ample and majestic.

289. Virtues. "Robed in a short tunic, with an ornamental border, the legs are encased in armour," wears "a jewelled cap," two wings.

290. Principalities. "A Seraph, entirely feathered, holding a vessel shaped like a bowl," with flames issuing out of it, the legs and feet being also enveloped in "wavy lines of flames: probably the avenging angel"; four wings.

291. Archangels. "Apparently holding a crown in the right and left hands, close to his breast," long robe covering the feet; two wings.

292. Angels. "Carrying a regal or small hand organ," in left hand, four wings, decayed; apparently bearing a wand in right hand.

The Apostles' Tier.—The next tier, that of the Apostles, who are thus raised above the angels, contains twelve figures of imposing design, later in style than the rest of the statuary. The figures are hollowed out at the back so as to press less heavily on the tier beneath. The arrangement of these niches is very happily managed, so as to avoid any monotony in the range of twelve similar niches; for, besides the natural division formed by the small attached shafts between the figures, an additional projecting shaft in every third division forms the tier into four large bays with three figures in each. The capitals of these niches are remarkable, the graceful foliage being disposed in a very free manner, in some cases growing upwards, in others bent down, but always true to the outline of the capital. Of the figures themselves the central one, in the place of honour, and taller than the rest, is St. Andrew. The others are not all so easy to name, the attributes of some having disappeared; and, although Cockerell gave names to them all (some of which were certainly wrong), we may content ourselves with the following list, which at least is accurate so far as it goes:—

293. No symbol in hand, which is covered with drapery. (Carter's drawing represents a staff or spear, but he is quite unreliable, though it is occasionally possible that the attributes he draws did exist when he saw the figures a century ago.)

294. Book (?) in right hand, a vessel or bag of cylindrical form is apparently suspended from the left arm. Perhaps St. Matthew with his purse.

295. Holds something, which may be the fuller's club, in which case the figure is that of St. James the Less; forked beard.

296. Club (?) in hand, long curly hair and beard. There is something near the knee, which may be a palmer's hat. (Carter drew this figure as St. Bartholomew with knife and skin.)

297. Carter drew this figure as St. Peter with the keys.

298. St. Andrew with his cross; he is so tall that his head fills the upper portion of the canopy.

299. St. John holding the chalice, which has large bowl and short stem; wavy hair. This is the only figure not bearded.

300. St. James the Greater. Staff in right hand, large satchel on left side hung from hand over right shoulder, book in left hand (the book of the Gospels with which St. James is always represented, in addition to the pilgrim's stiff and scrip). He wears a high cap.

301. Perhaps St. Paul (who is often represented among the Twelve), with sword and book.

302. St. Philip holds drapery in right hand. Ferrey says the five loaves can be distinguished.

303. Long hair and head-dress like a veil bound by a fillet round the brows, forked beard, book in left hand, girdle.

304. This figure occasioned much controversy, owing to Carter having drawn it with a crown. Cockerell therefore attributed it to St. Peter, and said that the crown showed Bishop Jocelin's papistical tendencies! PlanchÉ scoffed at this, remarking with truth that none of the Apostles are ever represented with crowns, but he caused even greater confusion by suggesting that the figure stood for a Saxon king, and that the tier, in spite of the Apostolic number, did not represent the twelve Apostles. If he had looked at the actual figures instead of Carter's drawings he would have seen that there is no crown at all. In the photographs this is still clearer, the Apostle's head being evidently covered by nothing more imposing than his own long hair or a veil like that of the preceding figure.

The Uppermost Tier.—The whole magnificent series was fitly crowned by this group (305), of which only the lower part of the central figure remains. That, however, sufficiently attests the noble character of the rest: it represents our Lord seated in glory within a vesica-shaped niche. The feet are pierced. It seems to have been mutilated by Monmouth's followers, for it still bears the marks of their bullets. The two figures in the niches on either side must also have been destroyed at this time, for they are shown in a print in Dugdale's Monasticon. Ferrey cannot have seen this print when he suggested that the figures were of angels censing, for they are there given as representing Our Lady (new covenant) and John Baptist (old covenant).The Western Towers.—The projection of these towers beyond the aisles of the nave gives its great breadth to the west front, which is 147 feet across, as against the 116 feet of the almost contemporary cathedral of Amiens, which is twice its height. It is an unusual arrangement, of which there is no exactly similar example except at Rouen. Above the screen the towers are Perpendicular, the southern tower having been completed towards the end of the fourteenth, and the northern at the beginning of the fifteenth century. They are thus later additions to the original design of the front, and make it more difficult for us to realise the effect that was first intended.

These two towers are very nearly alike, but the southern, or Harewell, tower is some forty years the earlier of the two, and belongs to the earliest days of the Perpendicular style, Bishop Harewell having died in 1386. The northern tower was built with a sum of money left for the purpose by Bishop Bubwith, who died in 1424, and his arms are carved high up on a buttress upon the north side, those on the west being a modern copy. In one of its two western niches is a figure of the bishop in prayer. Both the towers have two belfry windows on each side, tiny battlements, and a stair-turret on the outer western angle; in both the buttresses are carried up, with but slight reduction in bulk, two-thirds of their height and then finished with small pinnacles. There are, however, certain slight differences between the two towers; their height is not exactly equal, and there are no niches on the earlier one. The south tower contains a peal of eight bells; that on the north is traditionally considered "rotten," but to all appearance it is sound enough.

The Central Tower is Early English to the level of the roof. The two upper stages are Decorated, but there is a curious inter-mixture of styles in them, owing to the repairs that were made after the settlements of 1321. The chapter seemed determined to allow no possibility of another accident, for besides the inverted arches and buttresses of the interior, the original high narrow windows of the upper part of the tower have been fortified by later insertions, by way of bonding and stiffening the structure, which had been so endangered by the sinking of its piers below. There are, however, no signs of any rents in the Decorated part. The tower has square angular turrets, and is divided vertically into three main compartments, each division being marked by a small pinnacle, and the turrets by large compound pinnacles. It is an interesting tower to ascend, the rents in the wall being plainly discernible; and from the summit there is a fine view of Wells and of the valley in which the city stands.

The North Porch is perhaps the finest piece of architecture at Wells, though it generally receives far less attention than it deserves. It is certainly the oldest part of the church, and must have been the first work which Bishop Reginald undertook, about 1185; in style it retains much of the Norman influence. The mouldings of the noble entrance arch are numerous and bold, and twice the Norman zig-zag occurs, though enriched with leaves in a manner that suggests the coming Gothic. A weather moulding, exquisitely carved with deeply undercut foliage, covers the arch. Its capitals on the east side contain figures among their leaves representing the martyrdom of St. Edmund the King: the first three of the caps have the saint in the midst, crowned, and transfixed with a number of conventionally-arranged arrows, and his enemies, two on either side, drawing their bows; the fourth cap shows an executioner cutting off the saint's head; in the fifth the head is found by the wolf; the sixth has been partly cut away, but the body of the wolf and the heads of two figures remain.

In the spandrels above are two square panels containing a cockatrice, and another strange beast. The gable is filled with an arcade, the central member of which is corbelled off to make room underneath for three little lancet windows which light the parvise chamber within. The buttresses of the porch have slender shafts at the angles, which are finished off with foliage of a remarkably free and graceful kind; it should be noticed as an example of those subtle touches that are so abundant in this porch. On the buttresses are pinnacles with an arcade, at the top of which little openings cast a shadow that gives a lightness to the whole effect. A smaller pinnacle is at the apex of the gable, and underneath it an ornament of twisted foliage.

Nothing could well surpass the interior of this porch; the delicacy, and refinement which are shown in every detail are the more amazing when we consider that the architect and his masons had only just emerged from the large methods of Norman building. A range of three arcades on either side is divided in the midst by three shafts boldly detached from the pear-shaped moulding round which they are grouped. These shafts carry the ribs of the groined vault, and divide the porch into two square bays. Their capitals are very boldly undercut, and bear distinct traces of Romanesque influence; indeed, the volutes of the cap on the west side give it almost the appearance of a very freely-carved Corinthian capital. Those at the angles are of like fashion, except that on the north-east, which has fuller and freer foliage, wherein stands a man shooting with his bow at a bird, the whole most vigorously conceived.

In the uppermost arcade the little touch of foliage that is worked on to the junction of the mullions (which are made up of four pear-shaped mouldings) illustrates the love of delicate things that is so characteristic of this architect. Below is a projecting double arcade, behind which, against the wall, is a third row of arches: the outer mouldings intersect and the abaci of the outer caps are finished off in a carefully restrained curl of foliage; those on the soffit are deeply undercut, by means of which a very black shadow is secured. All the capitals are carved with the stiff-leafed foliage; and in the spandrels are grotesque beasts, full of character. The string-course below is finished with dragons who bend round and swallow the end of the string, their tails (on the west side) twisting right along the moulding. It is significant of the free way in which the masons were employed, that the carving varies very much on the two sides. The grotesques in the spandrels above mentioned are finest on the east side, but the dragons of the string course are best on the west side, where their expressions, as they bite the moulding, are full of life and humour. On this western side, too, the foliage which fills the spandrels of the lowest arcade is at its best; it is indeed the purest and truest piece of decorative work in the whole cathedral. Each moulding in this beautiful porch, from the filleted ribs of the groins to the bands round the shafts, and the moulded edge of the stone bench, is most carefully thought out, and adapted to its position, in a way that every architect will appreciate. The double doorway which leads into the church has an unusual and most effective moulding on its jambs, very large and simple, with slight projections worked upon it: the inner moulding of the enclosing arch, however, is a boldly projecting zig-zag, the supporting capitals of which have two figures, one in a cope, the other a bishop in a very pointed chasuble. The central pillar is of much later date. Above is a square recess filled with later masonry, where perhaps a figure was once inserted.

Most happily, the North Porch has been spared from the restorer's hand. It is a unique and most beautiful example of early work; any restoration of it would practically destroy it, and would be an unpardonable crime. The hungry eye of the modern vandal is sure to seize on this piece of virgin work, sooner or later; for its very purity will tempt him. We only hope that when that day comes the Chapter will be faithful to their trust.

The gable end of the north transept, which must be very near to the north porch in date, is a very similar example of the early work. It is flanked by turrets which are capped with pinnacles; both turrets, pinnacles and wall are rich with arcading, the effect of which is especially charming in the gable, where, by a happy device, the weather moulding is made to curve suddenly over the two topmost arches, filling the angle at the apex of the coping, and leaving a little space between it and the two arches to be occupied by foliage.The general character of the walls is distinctly Transitional; the buttresses are almost as low, broad, shallow and massive as in Norman work; and the windows, though now filled with Perpendicular tracery, are so broad that, were they but round-headed, they would look more Norman than much real Norman work.

The richness of exterior effect is much increased by a most graceful Decorated parapet, which is carried all round the church on the wall of both nave and aisles. As for the masonry as a whole, with the exception of the west front nothing could be sounder and more skilfully executed. Mr Britton's opinion was that "perhaps there is not a church in the kingdom of the same age where the stone has been so well chosen, better put together, and where it remains in so perfect a state: this deserves the particular notice and study of architects."5

The Chain Gate, one of the peculiar glories of Wells, is really a bridge over the roadway, built by Bishop Beckington and his executors, to connect the chapter-house staircase with the vicars' close. Freeman spoke of it as a "marvel of ingenuity," yet perhaps its excellence consists rather in its simplicity. A covered way was needed to the close, but the road lay between, and so a bridge was built; the bridge had to rest on something: three arches were therefore made, one large for carts, and two small for foot-passengers; a further space had to be spanned between the road and the staircase: the bridge was therefore continued on the same level, but, as the ground here was lower, the arch on this side was built on a lower level. Furthermore, the two ends of the bridge not being exactly opposite to one another, the bridge had to turn at a slight angle where it reaches the road. It is just such simple adaptation of means to an end that gave his chance to a medieval architect; it is this that gives what is called its picturesqueness to an ancient town, it is this that makes nature so picturesque. A modern architect would have built his bridge in a straight line across the road, and have pulled down something to avoid the irregularity; he would not have had the sense of proportion which alone was needed to make utility supremely beautiful. The builder of the Chain Gate just used his opportunities to their very best. He saw that but a small thing was wanted, that the close must not be dwarfed; so he kept the work little and delicate, rich and light: he made its chief beauty to lie in its bijou character. Yet he preserved its dignity by the wide opening of the central arch, the height of which is emphasised by the smallness of the two arches on either side. But although the two small arches effect so much by their contrast with the large one, the harmony of the gateway is preserved by the panelling above them which marks this part of the bridge off from the rest. On the south of the gate is a blank wall, supported by a buttress which was wanted here, and so here was put. On the south of the buttress is the lower arch which is so admirable a foil both to the height of the main gateway and the delicacy of the windows. A correctly-minded architect would not have tolerated this blank wall and irregularly-placed arch; but substitute what you will for the wall, or alter the height of the arch, or replace both by an arcade, and the dignity of the little gateway is gone. It may further be noticed that the builder kept the upper and lower stages very distinct, and made the upper storey as clearly a bridge as the lower is a gateway: the charming little windows run in a continuous range over blank wall, gate, and all, but they are grouped closer together over the gate. A battlemented parapet finishes the top of the bridge. Niches are placed in the midst of the two windows over the gate; they contain graceful statues of St. Andrew and other saints. In the wide moulding of the string course there are angels, curiously placed in a horizontal position, as well as the stags' heads of Beckington's arms.

Passing under the Chain Bridge a good view of the chapter-house is obtained. It is a massive, buttressed octagon, the lower stage marked by the small broad barred windows of the undercroft, the next by the rather squat traceried windows of the house itself, while under the cornice is an open arcade. The gargoyles are interesting. A parapet, different in design and inferior to that of the church itself, finishes the building. From this part of the road, there is a good view of the cathedral in one of its most characteristic aspects;—the Lady Chapel, the low buildings of the north-eastern transept and retro-choir, the chapter-house in the foreground, all lying on ground below the level of the road, and over the Chain Bridge a glimpse of the north transept gable and the north-west tower.

A queer corner, hidden by a thick tree, is formed between the chapter-house and the choir aisle; in spite of the obscure position, a fine gargoyle of the head and shoulders of a man, carved in unusually colossal proportions, is placed here at a low altitude, to carry off the water that must gather at the junction of aisle with undercroft passage. Through the walls that rise high on either side a capital glimpse of the tower can be had.

From the same road, opposite the prebendal house (now allotted to the Principal of the Theological College), which has a picturesque Perpendicular doorway with a window above, the grouping of the Lady Chapel with the rest of the church can be well seen.

The rich and light appearance of the east end is due not only to the charm of its tracery, which contrasts so well with the network of the Lady Chapel windows, and to the parapet which rises slightly in the centre, but also to the three lights which pierce the gable; of these the upper is diamond-shaped, and thus the masonry that is left has the appearance of a stout Y cross.From the South-East.—One of the most interesting views of the exterior is from the lovely grass-plot on the east of the cloisters, where once stood the cloister Lady Chapel, and where the vicars were formerly buried. It is being again used as a cemetery, which is unfortunate, since there are few things more irreligiously dismal than a modern burial-ground, and already a cluster of marble and granite monuments has arisen to spoil one of the most peaceful and unspoilt places in Wells. If monuments there must be (and why need we so advertise the dead?), let them at least be quiet and humble and beautiful: those ostentatious erections of hard and polished stone ruin the grey walls before which they stand; their frigid materials are too obtrusive for Christian modesty, too enduring for human memory. May we not yet hope that this spot will be spared the fate of the cloister garth?

From here the Lady Chapel is well seen as quite a separate building, joined to the rest of the church only in its lower part, and with its own parapet round all its eight sides; its form harmonises most charmingly with the square presbytery behind it, and with the lofty chapter-house, like itself octagonal. A further beauty is added by the solitary flying buttress which stands out at the south-eastern corner; though certain rents in the southern wall show that the buttress was built for reasons of the gravest utility. On the south side of the chapel there is a little door, covered by what looks at first like a kind of porch, but it is really the passage of a small vestry (p. 132) which was built up against the wall; the roof of the vestry was a little higher than that of the passage, and must have leant against the wall just under the window, as is proved by its gargoyle near the passage door. This vestry was fatuously destroyed in the early part of this century by an official who did not even know that it was medieval work till the soundness of the masonry proved almost too much for his workmen.

The junction between the earlier and the later presbytery is well seen from here—too well seen, in fact, for it is awkwardly managed. The later choir windows, with their crocketed ogee hood-moulds, are a good feature, and so are the flying buttresses; but the high-pitched roof of the earlier aisle is discontinued at the break in order to give room for these windows and buttresses; and the effect of this sudden termination of an aisle roof half-way along a building is not pleasant. In the earlier part, too, the later windows have been clumsily inserted some distance below the Early English dripstone, as if only the internal effect had been considered. The same may also be said of the window in the south transept gable: the gable, by the way, is a much plainer affair than that of the north transept.

Here stood the two Cloister Lady Chapels, but unfortunately their sites were not marked on the grass after the excavations were finished three years ago. Thus nothing can be seen from here of the earlier chapel, and, of the later, only the doorway and the Perpendicular panelling against the cloister which marks its western end, and the commencement of the walls. A small quatrefoiled hagioscope may be noticed in the library above the cloister; it, no doubt, commanded a view of the high altar of the chapel.

The earlier Capella B.M.V. juxta claustrum is often referred to in the chapter documents, and was a favourite centre of devotion. It became a kind of family chapel for the numerous clan of Byttons, after the first bishop of that name was buried there; it was also sometimes used as a chapter-house. The Early English doorway which led to it can still be seen in the cloister wall, on the right of the present doorway; it is partly covered by an I.H.S. of later date, made with the instruments of the Passion. The excavations of 1894, when the foundations were laid bare under Mr Buckle's direction, showed that this chapel consisted originally of a plain oblong building, earlier even than the north porch in date (i.e. before 1185), which was afterwards (c. 1275) enlarged by the addition of an aisle on either side. The excavations showed that arches were used at this time to replace the western part of the older walls, and thus to throw the ancient chapel open to its new aisles. The original chapel, then, if it was not actually part of Bishop Gisa's buildings, spared when John de Villula destroyed Gisa's cloister, seems to have been built not long after Gisa's time, and at least on the site of Gisa's chapel. This would account for its orientation, which was in a more northerly direction than that of the cathedral, and probably was the same as that of the pre-Norman church. Excellent plans of the foundations both of this and the later chapel are to be found in the Somerset Proceedings for 1894, where the whole matter is discussed in detail by Canon Church and Mr Edmund Buckle.

The later chapel on this site was built by Bishop Stillington (1466-91): it followed the orientation of the cathedral, and was of much larger size than the former building, being about 107 ft. in length. It consisted of a nave, transepts and choir, with fan-tracery vault, of which some fragments have been lately fixed in the cloister wall. Most profusely ornamented and panelled within, as can be seen by the west end against the cloister wall, it is considered to have been the chef d'oeuvre of the Somerset Perpendicular, surpassing even Sherborne and St. Mary, Redcliffe.

But its glory was not to be for long. Stillington was buried in this "goodly Lady Chapell in the Cloysters," says Godwin, "but rested not long there; for it is reported that divers olde men, who in their youth had not onely scene the celebration of his funeral, but also the building of his tombe, chapell, and all did also see tombe and chapell destroyed, and the bones of the Bishop that built them turned out of the lead in which they were interred." This was in 1552, when Bishop Barlow and the chapter made a grant to that barbarous scoundrel, Sir John Gates, of "the chappie, sett, lyinge and beynge by the cloyster on the south syde of the said Cathedral Church of Wells, commonly called the Ladye Chapple, with all the stones and stonework, ledde, glasse, tymbre, and iron ... the soyle that the sayd chappie standeth upon only excepted." The condition was that the rubble should be all cleared away, and the ground made "fayre and playn," within four years; but before this period had elapsed, Sir John's head had gone the way of the Lady Chapel.

The Cloister in its more prominent features is Perpendicular, having been rebuilt in the fifteenth century. Nevertheless the outer walls are of Jocelin's date, together with the doorway leading into the palace (see illustration on this page); and the lower part of the east cloister wall, including the two small doorways therein, is said by Mr Buckle to be undoubtedly earlier than Jocelin's time, and contemporary with the north porch, c. 1185. Thus we have still the original plan at least of the thirteenth-century cloisters. This plan is characteristic of a non-monastic church, where the cloister is not the centre of a common life, but merely an ornamental convenience which might or might not be added, and when added might be of any fashion that was desired. There is no walk on the north side, no refectory or dormitory, and the plan is not square, as would be the case with a conventual building, but an irregular parallelogram, while the eastern walk is built up against the south end of the transept instead of against its western wall.

The inner part of Jocelin's cloister was probably a wooden penthouse like that of Glastonbury. At all events, it has entirely disappeared. The eastern alley was built by the executors of Bishop Bubwith, who died in 1424. That on the west, with its rooms, was built by Beckington (1443-65) and his executors. That on the south was completed soon after by Thomas Henry, the treasurer. Beckington, by the way, showed a reckless disregard of the earlier work by carrying his cloister right up against the south-west tower, and completely concealing the beautiful arcading of that part. Beckington's executors, in the time of Bishop Stillington, also built the singing school over the western cloister. Bubwith's executors built the northern part of the library over the eastern cloister; but the southern part was added at a later date. The square windows were inserted later still by the famous Dr Busby, about 1670. The fourteen bays of lierned vaulting over the east alley, and one on the south, were executed in 1457-8 by John Turpyn Lathamo, at the cost, we find from the fabric roll, of ¾d. per foot, or £6, 11s. 3d. for the whole, though an additional ten shillings was presented to him for his diligence.

Each alley consists of thirteen bays in the Perpendicular style; the windows are now all unglazed, of six lights, with transoms and tracery; between the windows are buttresses to support the rooms above, which extend, however, only over the east and west alleys. Turpyn's vaulting is of a curiously decadent character, which reminds one of the Jacobean Gothic of Oxford and Cambridge. The ribs spread at the start to enclose a trefoiled panel, and they curve into one another when they meet at the bosses. In the rest of the south walk, however, the bosses are square, and receive the ribs in the usual manner; in the west walk they are still square, and more varied in their ornament, bearing Beckington's initials, arms, and rebus, arranged in several different ways. Beckington's arms, which occur also on the gateways, are argent on a fess azure, between in chief three bucks' heads caboshed gules, and in base as many pheons sable, a bishop's mitre or. His rebus is a fire beacon lighted, a tun holding the fire.

Two small stone pent-houses, of which the purpose is uncertain, are built up against the windows of the fourth and sixth bays of the eastern alley. The vault of this alley was built without reference to the fine Early English doorway into the transept, one side of which it hides, the weather moulding being cut away. This doorway is mentioned in an Act of the Chapter of 1297, but it was probably made by Jocelin before he built the cloister wall, which comes uncomfortably near to the door, as if it were an afterthought. The companion doorway from the western alley, which was the usual entrance to the cathedral in the thirteenth century, has been similarly defaced by the vault. Three annual fairs used to be held in the cemetery, till Bishop Reginald set apart for the purpose the new ground which is still the market-place. The traditional entrance to the church by this south-western porch may have been due to the fact that the citizens gathered for secular business on the south-western side. At the south end of the eastern alley is the Early English bishop's doorway, which no doubt led straight to the palace in the days when there was no moat to obstruct this route. The door was originally hung to open inwards; a beautiful moulding was destroyed to hang it in its present position. There is a bracket of later date over this doorway.

The cloister-garth, which is hideous with modern tombstones, is traditionally called the Palm Churchyard, no doubt because of the yew which grows there. Yew trees, so common in churchyards, are still commonly called palms, because their branches were used for the procession on Palm Sunday. This churchyard was anciently the burial-place of the canons, the ground east of the cloister (now used again as a cemetery) being reserved for the vicars, while the space before the west front was the lay burial-ground.

An admirably contrived dipping-place was still standing in the Palm churchyard, near the second bay of the east cloister, within the memory of living persons, but now no trace of it remains above ground. A water-course, held within a channel of carefully-worked masonry, runs under the eastern cloister from St. Andrew's well, and passes on to fall ultimately into the old mill-stream. The oblong building over it that formed the dipping-place was entered at the south end, and a few steps (with aumbries for the linen at either side) led to the washing-place at the little stream. An arch covered this spot, where the water ran through two low arches on either side and was bridged in the midst by a pavement. The place was used for washing linen, and the water required for the cathedral was drawn here before the modern supply pipes were introduced.The Library is over the east walk of the cloister, and is entered from the south transept. It is a charming old-world place, full of ancient volumes, many of which are of great interest. A passage runs from end to end, along the east side of the long room, the other side being mainly occupied by the old desks, benches and bookcases, which project at right angles to the wall, many of the book-chains still hanging on them. There are said to be over three thousand volumes, including the bulk of Bishop Ken's library, a collection of early editions of his works, and his copy of Bishop Andrewe's "Devotions." There are also several books (including one Aldine "Aristotle") with MS. notes and autograph of Erasmus. The collection of old charters, which have recently been made to throw so much light on the history of the cathedral, is also preserved here. Some of the most interesting charters are displayed in glass cases; one of them, Edgar's grant to Ealhstane, is specially venerable for the signature of St. Dunstan—Ego Dunitan Ep.—which occurs third among the witnesses to the document.

Two precious relics of medieval times are also kept here. One, which is generally called a lantern, was till lately hung in the undercroft. There is no trace of its ever having been used as a lantern, and it is probably the wooden canopy of the pyx which hung before the high altar. The Blessed Sacrament was in medieval times reserved, not in a tabernacle, but in a hanging pyx of precious metal; and this graceful wooden canopy probably contained the pyx. There are only two other possible examples of the pyx-canopy (at Milton Abbas and Tewkesbury), and both are of later date than this, which is thirteenth century. Woodwork of this period is so rare that, even were it not a pyx-canopy, it would be of extreme interest. It is cylindrical in form, divided into three storeys of open tracery, and crowned with a cresting of three-lobed leaves. Its height is 3 ft. 11¼ in., its internal diameter 14½ inches. It is made of oak, certain parts of a later restoration being of deal. Mr St. John Hope (Proc. of Soc. of Antiquaries, 1897), thus enumerates the traces of colour: "The whole of the body and its upper and lower rings have been painted red, with gold flowers or other devices upon the transverse bands. The slender dividing shafts seem to have been coloured blue. The leaves of the cresting have apparently been painted white, but the circular boss in the middle of each leaf was entirely red." Two pairs of iron rods, with a ring and swivel hook, serve to suspend it in a steady position.

The other relic is the thirteenth-century crozier which was recently found in a tomb in the cathedral, and probably belongs to the time of Savaric, though there is no evidence, beyond its style, for describing it as his crozier. It was dug up in a stone coffin in the western burial-ground of the cathedral in the time of Dean Lukin (1799-1812). It is thus described in the Catalogue of the Burlington Fine Arts Club exhibition of enamels, June 1897: "A complete crozier, [the staff] wooden (modern), with enamelled head one foot in length. Limoges, thirteenth century. The volute is a serpent with blue scales and serrated crest, enclosing a winged figure of St. Michael and a dragon studded with turquoises. The knop is encased in pierced repoussÉ open work formed of dragons, and the socket ornamented with thirteenth-century foliated scrolls in these slightly spiral bands, separated by jewelled dragons whose tails form three rings under the knop." St. Michael is represented in the act of attacking the dragon with his spear.

A little Museum has been formed in one of the rooms over the western cloister. It contains a collection of seals, Mr Buckle's plans of the cloisters and the Cloister Lady Chapel excavations, and many other objects of interest.

The principal buildings in connection with the cathedral are the vicars' close, the bishop's palace, the deanery, the archdeaconry, and the canon's houses. There are also Beckington's fine gates,—the Chain Gate by the vicars' close, Brown's, or the Dean's Gate, near the deanery, the Penniless Porch, leading from the Market Place to the cathedral; and the Bishop's Eye, leading from the Market Place to the palace.

Most deservedly famous is the unrivalled Vicars' Close, which contains the houses built by Bishop Ralph and his successors for the vicars-choral. Passing through the gate, one sees the two long ranges of quiet and lovely houses, fronted by their little gardens, with a roadway betwixt them. Nothing can surpass this arrangement for its peaceful seclusion and constant charm, not even the square quadrangles and cloisters of Oxford, and yet, so convenient is it, that no better model could be chosen should there ever come any general return to the old collegiate life; for a settlement, for a model factory, one can imagine nothing better even now. There are forty-two houses, twenty-one on either side: each consisted originally of two rooms, one above the other, with a staircase; for the vicars were single men. Now that the vicars-choral are married, many of them live in the town, but all the theological students are lodged here, and there are always a few rooms to be let to those visitors who are wise enough to stay in this charming place.

The tall chimneys rise up through the eaves of the little houses; octagonal at the top, they are perforated like a lantern, with two openings on each side. On them are shields bearing the arms of the see, of Bishop Beckington and his executors, Swan, Sugar, and Pope, sugar-loaves and swans abounding in the decoration.

At the farther end of the close is the tiny chapel (finished by Bubwith, and finally consecrated in 1489, after Beckington had added the wooden ceiling and the chamber above), where compline is still said by the theological students. It is one of the most beautiful things in Wells—a jewel, like so much of its period—and it has been well decorated in sgraffitto and colour by Mr Heywood Sumner. An interesting feature of its exterior is that some of the old Early English carving was worked in with the masonry of the wall, by way of decoration, and very effective it is. A passage at the side leads to the Liberty, where are some of the prebendal houses.

Over the entrance, and leading into the bridge of the Chain Gate, are the hall and its offices, which are approached by a fine staircase. In the hall is a painting of much interest, which represents Bishop Ralph seated on his throne, the vicars kneeling before him; the petition which he holds runs—Per vicos positi villae, Pater alme rogamus, Ut simul uniti, te, Dante domos maneamus; and the answer, which has the episcopal seal, is—Vestra petunt merita, Quod sint concessu petita: Ut maneatis ita, Loca fecimus hic stabilita. On the right are seventeen figures with ruffles, evidently added in Elizabethan times; corresponding inscription has also been added—Quas primus struxit, etc.

There is also a pulpit over the fireplace, which is large, with good mouldings and an inscription, In vestris preci habeat^s comedatu do[=m] Ricardu Pomroy quem salvet Ihs. Amen. On the hearth are a pair of fine fire-dogs.

Just outside the entrance to the vicars' close is a beautiful oriel window, which has been much copied in modern times. It springs from a corbelled head, from which foliate four cinquefoiled panels. The window now has only three square-headed lights, the centre one being large. Under its sills are rich panels, and it is capped by a slight crenelated cornice with a boldly-carved drip, from which springs a conical roof surmounted by a fleur-de-lys.

The beautiful Bishop's Palace was mainly built by Jocelin, who died in 1242. It consists of three sides of a quadrangle, the bishop's house being on the east, the chapel on the south, the kitchen and offices running alongside the moat on the north: on the west side there was formerly a gate-tower and a wall having a cloister within which led to chapel and hall. In addition to these buildings the great hall, now in ruins—forming, with the walls and outhouses, an outer court—was built to the south-west of the chapel. The whole group of buildings stands on a piece of ground, rich with trees, surrounded by a lovely old wall and moat, the single approach being by the bridge and the gate-house, which has Renaissance windows and retains the slit for the portcullis and the drawbridge-chains. Bishop Ralph of Shrewsbury constructed the gate-house and fortifications, which form an irregular pentagon, with a bastion at each angle, and an extra one in the south-east side. The bastion in the western angle (on the south of the gate-house) contains two storeys, of which the lower, called the cow-house or stock-house, was used as a prison for criminous clerks. The moat is fed by a stream from St. Andrew's well hard by.

The palace itself is a most interesting example of medieval architecture, and remains very much in its original condition. It is oblong in plan, and divided lengthwise by a solid wall, running through both storeys from end to end, at about one third of its width; the long outer chamber formed by this wall on the ground floor is divided into the entrance hall of three bays (containing a fireplace, temp. Henry VIII.), and the passages to staircase and to chapel at either end. The wider chamber within the wall is lighted by plain lancet windows, and has a row of slender Purbeck pillars down the middle, which, with the corbels on the wall, carry a groined vault: this, the "crypt," or undercroft, was probably used as a storage-room; it is now the dining-room. To the north of this hall is a square chamber with a pillar in the centre; and to the east of the chamber a small room projects beyond the ground plan of the building, with a space at one end (probably a closet) now walled up.

On the first floor the great chamber (68 by 28 feet) stood over the undercroft, while on its north was the bishop's private room, both open to the roof, and to the east of this, his private chapel. The gallery above the entrance hall was formerly divided into three chambers, the two larger of which Mr Buckle thinks were used as a lobby and a wardrobe. The windows in the gallery were restored by Mr Ferrey in 1846, but nothing is new except the marble shafts and bases. The two windows at the north end of the great chamber are evidently later additions, as they have fully developed bar-tracery, while the other windows in the chamber consist of pairs of trefoil-headed windows with a quatrefoil in plate tracery above them.

The Great Hall, which is now but a beautiful ruin, was built by Bishop Burnell, who died 1292. It was a magnificent chamber, 115 feet by 59½, with high traceried windows. It was divided into nave and aisles by rows of pillars to carry the roof and the passage at the west end led between buttery and pantry to the kitchen; over these rooms was a large solar, and on the north side a porch with staircase at the side leading to the solar. Both hall and palace are well and fully described by Mr Buckle in the Somerset Proceedings for 1888. Bishop Barlow had the hall dismantled, employing Sir John Gates for the purpose; the walls, however, were left standing until Bishop Law's time, when they were partly demolished in order to make the ruin more "picturesque."

The chapel is very similar in style to the hall, and was built very shortly afterwards; it is at present defaced by bad decoration and fittings. The carving is very fine and varied; some of the capitals retain the old stiff-leaf foliage, while in some the leaves grow freely round the bell in the Decorated manner. The vaulted ceiling is also an excellent example of the transitional work of the period. The west window is of later date, and has been twice restored—once by Bishop Montague (1608-16), and again in the present century. On the north side, at some height from the ground, are the indications of what may have been a gallery used as a private pew.

Bishop Beckington (1443-66) added the northern block of buildings, now considerably altered, the kitchen and various offices, le botrye, cellarium, le bakehous, ad lez stues ad nutriendos pisces, in William of Worcester's words, as well as the gate now called the Bishop's Eye, aliam portam ad introitum de le palays, and the parlour (parlurum) and guest-chambers adjoining the kitchen. This block lies very prettily alongside the moat.

Unfortunately the palace, which had so wonderfully escaped the brutal adaptations of the eighteenth-century architect, was restored in 1846 by Mr Ferrey, and its west front completely altered. The upper storey, the porch, the buttresses were all added by Mr Ferrey; not to mention the tower at the north and the turret at the south, and the conservatory. Bishop Bagot, at whose order the work was done, also rebuilt the kitchen and offices; in fact, he did what he could to destroy the unique character and beauty of a block of buildings without parallel anywhere.

The Bishop's Barn, which stands in a field near the palace is remarkable for its length (110 ft. by 25½) and the number of its buttresses. Simple in character, stately in proportions, it is a striking instance of the perfect sense of fitness which marked the medieval builders: in fact, it is the exact opposite to what a modern builder would erect if asked to provide a barn in the Gothic style.The Deanery, rebuilt by Dean Gunthorpe (1472-98), is an almost perfect specimen of a fifteenth-century house, in spite of the modern sash windows and other alterations which deface it. As at the palace, the principal apartments were on the first floor; and of these the chief is the hall, an excellent example of the more comfortable late medieval arrangement. Two handsome oriel windows with vaults of fan-tracery are at the upper end, not quite opposite to each other, where the sideboards used to stand; and at the lower end a stone arch carries a small music-gallery, with three small windows opening to the hall. Under this arch is the lavatory, a stone niche, in which a small cistern was suspended, with a drain at the bottom; so that the diners could put their hands under the tap of the little cistern as they passed into dinner.

Over the hall are guest chambers with fine windows; and behind the partition at the back of the dais is another chamber with a large window, which Mr J.H. Parker thought to have been the chapel.

Fuller description of the various ecclesiastical buildings can be found in Mr Parker's paper in the Somerset Proceedings for 1863.

The Archdeaconry was built in the time of Edward I., but the front of the house has been entirely modernised. The hall is larger than that of the deanery, and occupies the whole height of the building, having a very fine early fifteenth-century open timber roof.The Choirmaster's House, at the east end of the cathedral, is a fairly perfect example of a fifteenth-century house, retaining its beautiful porch unspoiled. The roof and upper part of the windows of the hall remain, but are disguised and concealed by modern partitions. It is now the residence of the Principal of the Theological College.

An organist's house once communicated with the singing-school, which is over the western cloister; it was much defaced in the eighteenth century, and entirely removed a few years ago.

The Canons' Houses, which lie in the Liberty to the north of the cathedral, have been either entirely rebuilt, or much spoilt by alterations.

The Schoolhouse is partly of the fourteenth century, with wings added in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries; it retains some features of interest.

Bishop Bubwith's Almshouse is near St. Cuthbert's Church. It was much spoilt in the fifties: the original plan was a great hall, with a chapel at the end of it, and cells along the side for the almsmen. These cells were open at the top so that there was plenty of fresh air, and if an almsman became ill or infirm, he could hear the service chanted daily in the chapel without leaving his bed. At the west end of the hall is a building of two storeys built by the bishop's executors, given to the citizens of Wells as a Guildhall, and used for that purpose till about 1779. Here is preserved a very fine money chest of the fifteenth century, painted with a scroll pattern, and resting on a stand inscribed with curious doggerel of the date 1615.

St. Cuthbert's Church, which is kept open during the daytime, is thus described by Mr J.H. Parker in the Builder for 1862 (p. 655):—

"It was originally a cruciform church of the thirteenth century with a central tower, and with aisles to the nave; but of the church all that remains in the original state is a part of the north aisle. The central tower has been removed, the church entirely rebuilt in the fifteenth century. The pillars and arches of the nave have been rebuilt in the fifteenth century also, and the pillars lengthened considerably. The arches, with their dripstones, preserved and used again on the taller pillars, and most of the capitals have had the foliage cut off. The aisle walls, the clerestory, and roof, are all Late Perpendicular, about the time of Henry VII.; but the beautiful west tower is evidently earlier than the clerestory and roof, and has the mark of the old roof on the east side of it, coming below the present clerestory. This fine tower, which is certainly one of the finest of its class, and which Mr Freeman considers, I believe, to rank only second to one other [Wrington], is said to have been built in the time of Bishop Bubwith, or about 1430; and this appears to me probable. The character of the work is rather Early Perpendicular, and the groined vault under the belfry appears to be an imitation of the Decorated vault of the cathedral."

FOOTNOTES