THE INTERIOR.[10]

Table of
Contents

The cathedral church of Rochester is, as has been already said, a very small one, and we must not expect to find in it the grandeur and impressiveness that great size often confers. As a whole, too, it is not remarkable for beauty, though special parts may claim to possess this attribute. Its chief claim to attention is its excellence as an example of the gradual additions and successive alterations made to and in old buildings during the long periods of their existence. In different parts of the fabric specimens can be seen of almost all the noteworthy variations of style that appeared in English ecclesiastical architecture from the Early Norman to the Perpendicular period. Some opinion as to the merits or demerits of various restoring architects during the last three centuries may also be formed in it, for a very considerable amount of their work remains in evidence. Many features of the building are indeed remarkable in other respects, but we are probably correct in saying that, as a whole, it is, to students of architecture, chiefly historically interesting.

The Ground Plan is of the double cross form, frequent in buildings of this class. The nave and choir both have aisles, but those of the choir are walled off from it. The main transept is aisleless, but the north and south choir transepts have each an aisle, or small chapel, on the eastern side. Beneath the whole eastern part of the church extends the magnificent crypt. The total length of the building is 305½ feet, of which 147½ feet belong to the eastern arm. The main transept is 120 feet long, the choir transept 88 feet.

plan of rochester cathedral

The Nave.—After passing beneath the great west doorway, through its new richly-hinged doors, we descend by a flight of four steps into the nave. On the inner side of the doorway arch are found a fine cable moulding, occurring also on its outside, and the billet moulding, of which the omission is so noticeable there. In the blind arcades that decorate the nave end inside, we see, besides plain mouldings, specimens of both the zigzag and the billet. The two upper arcades are so abruptly cut by the great Perpendicular window as to make most conspicuous the fact that this is a later insertion.

Of the aisle ends the northern contains the early fourteenth century doorway, inserted for the use of the parishioners of St. Nicholas’ altar, while the lower part of the southern has a blind arcade of three arches like those at the same level on either side of the great west door. Each aisle end has also a round-headed Norman window, with a plain circular moulding, and of the two small lights above, the northern belongs to the recent restoration. In the south-west corner of the nave is a beautiful little Norman doorway, which, opening into the tower flanking the front on that side, has a fine embattled moulding round its arch. The shafts of this small door, of the great west door, and of the aisle end windows, all have scalloped caps, and other caps of this form are seen in the arcades.

We will now, leaving the inside of the front, direct our attention to the nave arcades. Rochester and Peterborough possess probably the best examples of the Norman nave in this country, and the former is interesting, also, as possibly giving us some idea of the appearance of this part of the Norman church at Canterbury. The connection between the archiepiscopal cathedral and this its eldest daughter was always close, and the resemblances that can be pointed out in them are still numerous. Mr. Parker, by the way, was so struck by the similarities in later, Early English, work, as to suggest that the Rochester William de Hoo may have been the William the Englishman, the younger William, of Canterbury.

It has been noticed that the architecture is plainer here than in contemporary examples in France, but lighter, probably because intended to have a wooden roof. From the west wall the Norman work extends as far as the sixth bay of the nave arcades, the seventh and eighth bays being, with part of the sixth, the work of Early Decorated builders. The half piers at the west wall and the Norman piers facing each other in the nave arcades form pairs, but each pair differs from the rest. The pier capitals are flat, with scalloped ornaments. The semi-cylindrical shafts starting from them are now stopped by the plain string course that divides this from the next story. If they were continued further they would only emphasize the irregular placing of the Perpendicular clerestory windows, but they probably rose originally to bear the main timbers of the roof. The arches of the lowest story are semicircular, of course, and are in two orders. Both orders were, it is believed, plain throughout, in early Norman times, and they still continue to be so on the aisle side of the south arcade. The inner order is still plain everywhere, but the outer has zigzag and other mouldings. In each bay of the triforium, the tympanum is filled with an elaborate diaper around a central ornament. This decoration varies in every bay, and is thought to be a later insertion. It is noteworthy that the triforium arcades open into the aisles as well as into the nave, an unusual arrangement, which seems, however, here to be part of the design of the twelfth century. This opinion is supported by the existence of the narrow gallery, now blocked up, in the thickness of the wall. The early Norman triforium arcades seem to have been removed by the architects of the following period, and replaced in the present form. The aisles were perhaps originally vaulted; the flat pilasters of their outer walls might then have been built as vaulting shafts. If such was the case, the vaulting must have been found too heavy for the walls, and a wooden roof have been therefore adopted in its stead. The easternmost bay of the triforium, on each side, is apparently later Norman like the rest, but is really the work of masons of the Decorated period. It had been demolished in connection with the rebuilding of the nave, in progress at that time but abandoned when only two bays were finished. It was then found that the best way to make the junction of the styles good would be to restore the old work as accurately as possible. This was well done, but differences of material and in methods of working save us from being deceived.

The two bays of Early Decorated work, just alluded to, complete the nave eastwards. The transition from the round-arched to the pointed style is made still more conspicuous by an increase in the height of the arcades, which involved the discontinuance of the triforium; and the banded shafts of dark Purbeck marble clustered round the later piers also emphasize the change. The two piers at the junctions of the styles do not pair, but we cannot regret the difference on the south side, as we owe thereto the beautiful foliated capital here illustrated (p. 68).

The clerestory of the nave is divided from the stories below by an enriched string course. It is of the same style throughout and dates from the Perpendicular period. The predilection of the architects of that time to substitute work of their own for that of their predecessors in clerestories and great west windows of ecclesiastical buildings, has been noticed by many writers. At Rochester they could not in either case resist temptation. Their clerestory contains plain and uninteresting three-light windows, which are, moreover, unsymmetrically placed with regard to the arches beneath them. The roof is apparently of the same date; it is flat and of wood, carried by corbels carved and painted to represent angels bearing shields.

the nave, looking west
(from a photograph by h. dan).

The two tower piers at the end of the nave, where the latter joins the main transept, have their Purbeck marble shafts stopped at some height from the ground. The most likely explanation of this is, that there used to be here a solid stone screen [1], or rood loft, against which the parish altar of St. Nicholas stood before 1423. On the west side of the northern of the two rises a mass of masonry, so high as to partly block the arch. It is built, to a great extent, at any rate, of old materials, for on both sides of it are to be seen stones with fragments of plaited Norman diapers. The purpose of this masonry has been the subject of much discussion. It was at one time generally believed to have been raised, as a buttress, to aid the pier in supporting the weight of the tower, but this notion has since been ridiculed. The tower, we are reminded, was not raised until 1343; the stability of its piers had been secured before this date by the two new bays of the nave, and additional support can not have been needed. Others suppose that the masonry belonged to the stone screen spoken of above. A fine walled up arch on the north side adds to rather than lessens our difficulties. It has good mouldings,—springing from the capitals of two Purbeck marble shafts, of which the eastern has unfortunately been broken away,—and the dripstone terminates in a head, so mutilated that the face is quite lost. This archway seems too wide to have been the entrance to the stairs leading to the rood loft, a use which has been suggested for it. The occurrence of the above-mentioned fragments of diapers on the wall within the arch, as well as on the other side of the mass, may perhaps justify us in concluding that these two surfaces are both of the same date, and that the archway was walled up originally.

It seems possible that we have, after all, a buttress to deal with here. It is known that the north transept and the north-west tower pier were raised before the adjoining parts to the south and west, but many have supposed that the north tower-arch was not thrown across until later. If it was built at the earlier time, a temporary support to the pier against its thrust may have been judged expedient, until the new work at the end of the nave should be completed. The mass that we are discussing seems to have been hurriedly raised with old materials at hand, and, from the carelessness which allowed fragments of old ornament to appear here and there on the surface, not to have been intended to be permanent. It was not until 1320, or later, apparently, that the design of rebuilding the nave was finally abandoned, and a junction of the new and the Norman work made. It seems, therefore, no great thing to suppose that the originally temporary support lingered on until 1327, to be then retained in connection with the oratory made, in angulo navis, for the Reserved Sacrament, for the parishioners of St. Nicholas. I have never seen or heard of any record as to which corner is the angulum referred to. It is known, however, that provision for the reservation of the Blessed Sacrament was often made to the north of the altar, and that we find Sacrament Houses in this position in churches that possess them.

The Aisle Walls have the bays marked by flat pilasters, to be traced back perhaps to Early Norman vaulting shafts. Springings of the Early Decorated vaulting, that once covered the two eastern bays, are still to be seen, but the aisles are now roofed with wood throughout. String courses are continued beneath the windows, which latter have been described and commented on in our chapter on the exterior of the church.

The so-called Lady Chapel was really built as a nave to the Lady Chapel proper in the south transept. On the east side a single broad arch opens into the transept, and in the wall above are to be seen traces of the outer mouldings of the two arches (like those on the north side) that this single wide one replaced. A tablet on the south wall records that the chapel was restored, in 1852, by M. E. G., i.e., the wife of Canon Griffith. It is now used for morning prayers by the Grammar School, and for some sparsely-attended services. From 1742 until well into the present century the Bishop’s consistory court sat here, after having been held formerly at the western end of the south aisle of the nave. The chapel seems to have been vaulted, and we have, perhaps, to regret here the loss of a fine fan-traceried roof.

The South Transept is of the Early Decorated period, and rather later than its fellow. In the east wall, opposite the wide arch leading into the so-called Lady Chapel, two bays were, about 1320, included under one arch to form a larger recess for the altar of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The king and queen corbel heads of this arch were once painted, and the colours are said to have been still tolerably fresh in 1840. The clerestory windows on each side are two-lighted, with quatrefoil heads. They have a gallery running before them, but the screens to this vary. On the east side the screen before each window has a broad pointed arch of the width of the window, flanked by a pair of narrow ones; on the west it copies the window. The occurrence of the dog-tooth moulding should be noticed. The transept end has an upper range of five single-light pointed windows, graduated in height towards the centre, divided by narrow blind arches, and having a screen arcade of five arches in front, one arch before each light. The whole arrangement of the end is shown in our illustration. Figures in fresco could, in 1840, in spite of coats of whitewash, still be traced on the lower part of the wall.

The roof of the transept is almost entirely of wood, though in the form of a quadripartite stone vault with longitudinal and transverse ridge pieces. The springings of the ribs are indeed of stone but otherwise the ceiling is of wood throughout. Sir G. Scott found the whole greatly in need of repair,—the ribs rotten and decayed, and the spaces between them filled principally with plaster,—and thoroughly restored it.

This part of the church, and all the rest to the east of the nave, is enriched with shafts of the famous dark marble from the quarries of the Isle of Purbeck. The vaulting shafts of this material are generally carried to the ground, but over the head of the wide outer arches in the east and west walls here, they rise from finely carved console heads.

At the southern end of the great altar recess in the east wall, a small pointed doorway opens into the little room [2], so noticeable outside, in the angle between the transept and the south choir aisle. This room, like so many other parts of the building, has had considerable vicissitudes. Here are said to have been kept at one time the valuables belonging to the altars in this part of the church. Then, at the end of the eighteenth and during the earlier part of this century, the room is mentioned and marked on plans as the coal hole. It is now more honourably used again, as the vestry of the masters and king’s scholars of the Grammar School, who have to attend the cathedral services on Sundays and Saints’ Days. The Crossing is noticeable for the finely clustered shafts—the tower piers. The clearance hence, in 1730, of a ringers gallery has been already mentioned. In 1825 Mr. Cottingham found the space vaulted. His changes in the tower included a replacing of the vault with a flat wooden ceiling, of which the main beams ran from east to west. This he changed again in 1840 for the present more elaborate, but not altogether satisfactory ceiling, with its great cross beams and pendant bosses. An admiring contemporary account tells us that the largest of these bosses, though looking so small from below, are 3 feet 3 inches in diameter, while the beam mouldings are 5 feet 3 inches in girth, and the wall mouldings 5 feet 7½ inches. The ceiling is coloured, but for neither colouring nor ornament does it deserve praise.

The North Transept was erected about 1235, in the Early English period and style. The screens to the gallery before the clerestory lancets have a main arch in each bay, with dog-tooth moulding, divided into three by Purbeck marble shafts placed the width of the window apart. In each bay without a window there is a row of blind arcading, which, like the mouldings of the arches by which the gallery passes through the wall piers, springs from carved corbel heads. In the transept end the screens before the three lancets of the clerestory are of the usual form, but are adapted to their graduated heights, and there are small additional arches, one at each side.

The arch opening into the north aisle shows a curious device for preserving a different level on each of its sides. On the transept side we see the mouldings of an arch like, and on the same level as, its neighbours to the north. The western half of the whole thickness of the wall is, however, continued lower, exhibiting a plain surface to the east, but terminating on the aisle side, at the height of the eastern arches of the nave, in mouldings that we should have expected to find higher up. This lower level was necessary on account of the vaulting at this end of the aisle, of which traces still remain, but the whole arrangement was clumsy, and we cannot be surprised at not finding it repeated on the other side of the church.

The next bay has on the triforium level a curious windowless recess, the mouldings of whose arch spring from two shafts on each side. There is another very similar recess opposite, but with only single side shafts.

The two northern bays of the east wall are occupied by a wide and deep recess [3], the arched ceiling of which rises to within 3 or 4 feet of the clerestory level. The outside shafts, and those from which the central ribs of the ceiling used to spring, have all gone, though their caps remain. Within this great recess there is, on the spectator’s right, a small one, with side shafts, containing a piscina. On the left, in the church’s north wall, is a window, which rises to only half the height of the pointed arch, with side shafts, within which it is inclosed. It was at one time the general belief that this recess used to be the site of the parochial altar of St. Nicholas, which may possibly have stood here during the short time between the completion of the north transept and that of the new work at the east end of the nave, for a document published in the “Registrum Roffense” tells us that, after a dispute about a removal, the position before the pulpitum was assigned to it in 1322. Arrangements were then made to avoid any mutual disturbance of the services of the monks and the parishioners, and the new church for the latter was already talked of. The writer of the “History and Antiquities of Rochester,”[11] quotes a will that suggests a possibility that an altar of Jesu stood on this spot.

The transept end and its west wall have windows of the same form at the triforium level, and there is a similar resemblance in the blind arcades below, except for the doorway restored by Sir G. Scott, and surmounted by an obtuse arch. The arch to the east of this doorway was cleared of masonry in 1840. A large figure, in distemper, of St. Christopher bearing the Infant Christ was then uncovered, but only to fall away as the air was admitted to it. Miss Stevens, daughter of the dean, made as complete a copy of it as possible, as stone by stone was carefully removed to disclose only a small piece at a time, and her drawing, with a note by Mr. Spence, is preserved in the British Museum.

The vaulting of this transept is rather remarkable. It is octopartite in plan, developed from the sexpartite form by the addition of a longitudinal ridge-rib which divides its larger cells. The fine bosses in both transepts merit attention, and so do the corbel-heads to the intermediate vaulting shafts in this one.

The Font [4] standing in the centre of the nave, only a short distance from the west door was erected in memory of the late Canon Burrows, who held a stall here from 1881 until his death in 1892. Executed for the subscribers, in Hopton Wood stone, by Mr. T. Earp, it is round in form, supported by a central column, of quatrefoil section, and four shafts placed corner-wise, rising from a double plinth, on which, facing the door, is the brass inscription tablet. Round the bowl are four groups in relief, facing the cardinal points, with eight single figures inserted in pairs between them. The subject of the west group is “Suffer little children to come unto me;” then passing round to our left we see, in order, figures of Noah and Moses, the Baptism of the Gentile (typified by the Ethiopian), figures of St. Bartholomew and St. Mary Magdalene, the Baptism of our Lord, figures of St. Barnabas and St. Cornelius, the Baptism of the Jew (typified by St. Paul), and finally, figures of St. Lydia and St. Winfred.

The old font, now removed to Deptford parish church, used to stand beneath the second arch, from the west, of the south nave arcade. Made in 1848, this was first used in 1850. In form, it was square and enriched, and borne by a circular column and four corner shafts. A still earlier font is to be seen in an engraving made by John Coney during the second decade of the present century. This stood under the eastern side of the third arch of the same nave arcade, was octagonal in form, with panelled sides, and had a substantial railing round it.

The Pulpit [5] in the nave is more elaborate in form and decoration than that now in the choir. It was designed for the choir by Mr. Cottingham, in 1840, and stood there, opposite the bishop’s throne, until it was removed to its present position by Sir Gilbert Scott. The Stalls are modern and very plain. A tablet on them tells us that they were erected in memory of Mr. Philip Cazenove, who died in 1880, by his son Arthur, an honorary canon. The Lectern is of carved wood, of the well-known form in which the book is borne by an eagle’s out-spread wings.

Monuments.—The nave and main transept possess none that are very old or very remarkable, but the following seem to deserve mention. Against the south wall, in the fourth bay from the west, is the monument of John, Lord Henniker [6], who died in 1803. Over the sarcophagus in relief Honour is crowning Benevolence, while a medallion of the deceased, with a coronet and an unfolded patent of peerage, and his coat of arms are seen against the base. This monument was erected by J. Bacon, jun., in 1806, and is signed with his name.

The next bay to the east contains no window, but is occupied by the monument to Lady Henniker [7], who died in 1792, before her husband was ennobled. This monument is, to a great extent, constructed of “Coad’s artificial stone,” and rises beneath “a neat Gothic arch” of that material. It shows, on a base of gray marble, a sarcophagus of white marble between two figures of Time and Eternity. In this case the sarcophagus is detached and not in relief, and the figures also stand free.

On the wall at the end of the south transept, under the central window, is a monument to Richard Watts, Esq. [8], erected in his memory by the mayor and citizens in 1736. A coloured bust, with long gray beard, stands forth curiously above the inscription. This bust was given, to be placed here, by Joseph Brooke, Esq., whose family had acquired possession of Watts’s house by purchase. There has been much discussion as to its material, which seems, however, to be not terra-cotta or some other composition, but firestone. Watts sat as member for Rochester in Queen Elizabeth’s second Parliament, and we have already told how he had the honour of entertaining her 1573, at his house, “Satis.” He is famous for the provisions that he made in his will for the relief of the poor of Rochester, Watts’s Almshouses on the Maidstone road being one of the sights of the town; but he is perhaps best known of all for his foundation of the “House of the 6 poor travellers.” Poor wayfarers, to this number nightly, “not being Rogues or Proctors,” are here provided with supper, bed and breakfast, and presented besides with 4d. each when they leave. Wonderful tales of wicked lawyers have at times been current in explanation of this coupling of Proctors with Rogues, but the true explanation is that Proctor is used in a quite obsolete sense here. It has the same meaning, probably, as in the following passage from Harrison’s “Description of Britain,” 1577: “Among Roges and idle persons we finde to be comprised all Proctors that go up and down with counterfeit licences, cosiners, and such as go about the countrey using unlawful games,” etc. It was used also of mendicant lepers, the “Proctors to some spittal house,” and of men who carried dispensations about the country. Watts’s will was proved on the 20th of September, 1579.

Just beneath the Watts monument is a brass tablet in memory of the writer who has made the House of the six poor travellers so well known throughout the English-speaking world. This tablet was placed here by the executors of Charles Dickens “to connect his memory with the scenes in which his earliest and latest years were passed, and with the associations of Rochester Cathedral and its neighbourhood which extended over all his life.”

The same transept contains on its east wall a monument, with a medallion bust, to another charitable Roffensian, Sir Richard Head, an alderman of the city after the Restoration, and one of its members of Parliament in 1667. He was again member in 1678-79, and before this had been made a baronet. It was at his house that King James II. stayed, at Rochester, after his flight from London. Sir Richard died on the 18th of September, 1689, at the age of eighty, arranging by his will that the profits of some cottages and land at Higham should be distributed, to the amount of two shillings a week, in bread, to the poor at St. Nicholas Church. The overplus was at the end of the year to be divided among four of the most ancient men, and four of the most ancient women of the parish. The charity still remains, but its scheme has been to some extent modified by the Charity Commissioners.

In the same transept, near the entrance to the south choir aisle, stands a bust of Dr. Franklin, who died in 1833. This monument is by S. Joseph, and near it on the south wall is a tablet, with a medallion bust, in memory of Joseph Maas, the great tenor singer, whose name is not yet forgotten in the musical world.

The recess on the east side of the north transept contains a mural tablet in memory of Dr. Augustine Caesar, who died in 1683. This is chiefly remarkable for its pompous Latin inscription, which tells how he came, saw, and conquered diseases invincible to others, and calls on fevers and all human ills to exult now that their great foe has passed away in a happy death, and is as a Caesar, enrolled among the gods. From other sources we learn how he obtained his degree of M.D. from Oxford, in 1660, after a petition in which he explained that it was to escape oaths contrary to his loyalty, that he had forborne to take it during “the late troubles.”

The Pavement of this part of the church is of plain stone. In the floor are still to be seen many Memorial slabs, but more have been either covered up or lost. In the centre of the south transept there still remains the matrix of what was once a splendid brass, representing a bishop, in his episcopal robes and with his crozier, beneath a rich canopy with a shield of arms on either side of his head. In the great recess in the north transept there is placed against the wall, lozenge-wise, the matrix of a brass of several figures. We are told, by Mr. Spence, of the existence, as recently as 1840, of three matrices in the south aisle, six in the nave, one in the north aisle, nine in the north transept, besides a tenth on the wall, and five in the south transept. Of the six in the nave, one near the steps at the west end had evidently held a fine episcopal brass, and another very ancient, had once contained the figure of a knight. There was also here a slab with a hollow, said to have been a socket for an axe, but evidently due to a wearing of the stone, a piece of Sussex marble. The death of Cardinal Fisher was said to have been commemorated by this. The specimen in the north aisle was very elaborate, intended for the figure of a bishop, in whose dress it was noticeable that both peaks of the mitre were intended to be shown. The matrix that Mr. Spence especially described in the south transept is evidently the one that still remains there. Besides all these matrices or sockets of brasses he mentions a slab to the north of the steps leading to the choir which he thought to be, probably, a coffin-lid reversed.

The Stained Glass in the western part of the church is all modern. In it we see specimens of the work of Messrs. Clayton and Bell, whose later windows are certainly finer than their earlier ones. Even with their best before us we cannot, however, help wishing for old work. We hope to see soon all the clerestory and aisle windows bright with colour. They will then be more beautiful in themselves, and they will also moderate the glaring light which detracts much from the effect of the nave.

The great west window is, below the springing of its arch, separated into eight lights, which are divided into two tiers by a transom or horizontal mullion. Beginning from the left or south side we have, in the eight spaces of the lower tier, Abraham, blessed by Melchisedec after his victory over the five kings; Moses and the overthrow of the Egyptians in the Red Sea; Joshua commanding the sun to stand still; Gideon, overthrowing the Midianites; Jephthah’s victorious return; Samson carrying off the gates of Gaza; David slaying the lion; and finally Nehemiah at the building of the walls of Jerusalem. In the upper eight spaces are single figures of the heroes celebrated in these scenes. In the next row, of twelve complete spaces, the lowest in the head of the window are the figures of other heroes. These are, in order, from the left, Caleb, Othniel, Deborah, Barak, Samuel, Jonathan, Beraiah, Jehosophat, Hezekiah, Josiah, Matthias, and Judas Maccabeus. Next above come ten military saints: SS. Maurice, David, Edmund, Alban, George, Andrew, Louis, Martin, Patrick and Gereon. There are besides in the head of the window devices of the corps of Royal Engineers; the badges of the grenade and crown; the national emblems of the rose, thistle, shamrock and leek; emblematic subjects, such as the Helmet of Salvation and the Breastplate of Righteousness; and armed angels. The arrangement of the window is well seen in our view of the nave looking west. It is in memory of the officers and men of the Royal Engineers who fell in the South African and Afghan campaigns. Their names are recorded in crudely coloured mosaic tablets in the upper of the two arcades below.

The window at the end of the north aisle is in memory of Lieut. T. Rue Henn, R.E., killed at Maiwand in 1880. It contains three medallions, of scenes from the life of Jonathan:[12] his victorious onslaught on the Philistines, made when attended only by his armour-bearer; his bestowal of his robes and arms on David; and his death, slain by the Philistines in the battle of Mount Gilboa.

The corresponding window at the end of the south aisle is in memory of Col. A. W. Durnford, R.E., who fell at Isandlwhana in 1879. This has three similar medallions illustrating great deeds of Judas Maccabeus:[13] his taking of the spoils of the “great host out of Samaria,” with the sword of Apolonius their general; his exhortation of the small part of his army that had not fled to die manfully; and finally his death in this his last battle.

The only window with stained glass in the aisle walls is the first from the west on the south side, in memory of Lieut. R. da Costa Porta, who died in the Egyptian expedition of 1882. It has two scenes: Peter walking on the water, and Christ stilling the tempest.

The windows in the north transept end are filled with stained glass in memory of Archdeacon King. In the lower tier of three, we see, beginning from the left, a figure of St. Philip, the deacon, with a representation below of the laying on of hands (Acts, vi. 6); the Lord Jesus, with three angels on either side, and underneath a scene with six figures, including a saint in chains before a judge; St. Stephen, the proto-martyr, with the scene of his death beneath. Some money remained after the completion of these windows, so the upper range was also filled. In it are figures of the three archangels: St. Raphael, St. Michael slaying the dragon, and St. Gabriel.

The upper range of five windows in the south transept end commemorates the officers of the corps of Royal Engineers, who died in the Peninsular and Waterloo campaigns. Their names are recorded in the mosaic tablets in the lowest arcade at the west end of the nave. The subjects, from the left, are St. Maurice, St. Nicholas, St. George, St. James and St. Adrian. The three central of these windows have small scenes beneath the figures. The lower windows, given by the same corps, are in memory of General Gordon and others of its members who died in the Egyptian campaign. The three windows are each two-lighted, and each light contains a single figure. There are represented in them, in order, St. Florian, St. Gereon, St. Martin, St. Alban, St. Denis, and St. Longinus. The Royal Engineers, it will be seen, have appropriately chosen Old Testament heroes, and military saints for representation in all their glass.

The North Choir Aisle and the southern are both walled off from the choir itself. One of the screens that used to divide the monastic from the parochial part of the church halves the four bays of the north aisle, the door in it being approached by a flight of eight wooden steps, which cover those of stone so worn by the passage of the pilgrims who in old times thronged to St. William’s shrine. The westernmost door in the north wall formerly gave access to Gundulf’s tower, the easternmost now leads to the belfry.

Monuments.—Coming from the north transept we see, to the right, the tomb ascribed to Bishop Hamo de Hythe, who died in 1352. It is certainly in the style of that time. The elaborate ornamentation of the arch under the canopy is worthy of attention. At the back, beneath the canopy, is the demi-figure of an angel, holding a shield, but the high, panelled tomb has lost its effigy, if it ever bore one. The monument has suffered much, but still bears many traces of colour. Just opposite it is a mural monument commemorative of William Streaton, who died in 1609, after having been no less than nine times mayor of the city.

In the plain stone pavement there are crowded together, to the west of the steps, as many as eleven matrices of brasses.

The Organ, on the screen beneath the choir arch, owes its present form to Sir G. Scott, who divided it, placing half at either end of the screen, and thus preserved the vista of the choir, when he designed the new case.

In early times we read of the gift of an organ by Bishop Gilbert de Glanvill and that, during the terrible visitation of Simon de Montfort’s troops, the “organs were raised in the voice of weeping.” Such casual references are all that we find before the seventeenth century. In 1634, however, Archbishop Laud is informed of a recent great expenditure on the “making of the organs.” This new purchase narrowly escaped rough usage at the hands of the Roundhead soldiery in 1642, for the troops, in their journey into Kent, left “the organs to be pluckt downe” on their return, but found them, then, already removed, of course with more gentle handling than they themselves would have used. The instrument was soon set up again after the Restoration, and Pepys, on April 10th, 1661, heard “the organs then a-tuning.” In 1688, £160 was spent on its renovation and on a new “chair organ,” a smaller, portable form. In 1791 a fine new organ was constructed by Greene, which stood over the middle of the screen and its case, with pinnacles, etc., “in the Gothic style” was designed by the Rev.—Ollive. This instrument was added to by Hill towards the middle of the present century at Canon Griffith’s expense. The choir arch, above, continued draped until Scott’s time, though many complained of the tawdriness of this decoration, which hid also from the nave the vaulting of the choir.

tomb of bishop hamo de hythe
(from a drawing by r. j. beale).

The Organ Screen, at the head of the flight of ten steps by which the higher level of the choir is reached, has had its face towards the nave decorated recently, in memory of the late Dean Scott, joint compiler of the famous lexicon. The four figures on each side of the original fourteenth century doorway, represent, in order from the left, St. Andrew, King Ethelbert, St. Justus, St. Paulinus, Bishop Gundulf, the sacrist William de Hoo, Bishop Walter de Merton, and Cardinal John Fisher. The whole was designed by Mr. John Pearson, R.A., and the statues were executed, in Weldon stone, by Mr. Hitch. The work is careful, but it is amusing to notice that in the model held by Gundulf, and presumably intended for his own church, there appears the great Perpendicular window, now so prominent in the west front.

Sir Gilbert Scott had, with archÆological correctness, left this side of the screen bare. It was kept so originally on account of the position before it of the other screen, the one against which St. Nicholas’ altar stood. Earlier attempts than the present one have, however, been made to ornament it. In 1730 an order was given for the face towards the nave to be wainscoted, and in the “Gentleman’s Magazine” for October, 1798, we read a criticism of some work then just carried out. We are told of pointed arches and tracery merely punched out, of crockets and finials barely hinted without any fine forms or beautiful relief, and of the lack of any “deep-shadowed infinity of mouldings.”

The Choir is entered through the iron gates in the central doorway of the screen. The height of its floor above that of the nave is due to the splendid crypt on which it stands. It is all, excepting one or two features which we must point out later, in the Early English style, and was finished early in the thirteenth century.

Very noticeable to everyone coming into this part of the church is the great, some think excessive, use made of the famous dark marble from the quarries of Purbeck, in the vaulting and other shafts, in their bands, and in the string-courses that divide the stories. These, though now so dull, will admit of a high polish, but, unfortunately, do not retain it long. A small specimen in the south choir transept shows how beautiful the polished stone is. Polishing would probably also relieve them of their present rather heavy effect. The shafts generally spring from the ground, from bases of the coarser Petworth or Bethersden marble, and some of them have caps of hard stone. Above the choir stalls the main groups of vaulting shafts rise from finely carved brackets, of which two are here illustrated (pp. 88, 91), and the intermediate single ones from carved corbel heads, all of the same fine material as the shafts themselves. Some of these ornaments were, when uncovered in 1840, “very skilfully restored in mastic by Mr. Hamerton, a sculptor in the employ of Mr. Cottingham.”

the choir screen: dean scott memorial
(from a drawing by r. j. beale).

The vaulting is worthy of attention and is generally sexpartite in plan, although the simpler quadripartite form occurs in places. An inequality in the division of the side cells of the transept vaulting, due to the difference in width of the bays, has a rather curious effect. The ribs of the vaulting, throughout the eastern arm, are painted with simple lines of colour, with a rather pleasing effect.

the choir, looking east
(from a photograph by messrs. carl norman and co.).

The gallery before the single light clerestory windows gave once an open passage all round, but it is now blocked at the end of the south transept. In front of each window it has a triple screen of which the general form is shown in our illustration of a window of the choir proper and in our view of the east end. It is owing to the existence over the transept aisles of two rooms, known as the Treasury and the Indulgence Chamber, that no clerestory windows are to be seen there, but only blind arcading and blank wall. In the inner, wider bays of the transepts we notice that the usual triple screens are extended by two additional arches of the lower height towards the centre of the church.

The clerestory gallery is, on each side of the choir proper, quite in the thickness of the wall. The core of the latter is Norman, but its facing, including the blind arcade at the triforium level, belongs to the Early English period.

On either side of the presbytery the clerestory gallery springs from wall-piers with clustered Purbeck shafts. The tracery of the windows, thus ornamented here, is later than the windows themselves, and is an insertion of the Decorated period. So is also that of the windows on the east side, and at the end, of the south transept aisle. The latter is unique in this cathedral, and we have thought it worthy of illustration. Remains of clustered columns, to be seen in the east wall of the north transept aisle, remind us of the numerous changes that so many parts of the fabric have undergone.

The east end has only taken its present form since Sir G. Scott’s work, between 1870 and 1875. In 1825 Cottingham removed a huge altar screen thence, and opened and renewed the lower range of windows, of which the central had been quite, and the other two partly, blocked with brickwork. He, however, still left the communion table against the wall, and, instead of doing away with the great upper window then existing, only repaired it. This great window, occupying the whole space from the gallery to the vaulting, was divided into nine lights, of which the inner seven were cut by a transom or horizontal mullion. Photographs of three drawings by Mr. Gunning, made in 1842, are preserved in the chapter room, and show this east end, and the two sides of the organ screen, as they were before Scott’s alterations.

The north transept end is very like the east end in its general design, but has, low down, the two windows lighting the Merton tomb, and the tiny one over the same bishop’s Elizabethan effigy. The south transept end is again much the same, but has the spaces between the wall-piers and under its outer windows filled in with masonry, in which are the openings to two passages, now blocked, which led respectively up to the Indulgence Chamber and down to the crypt.

There are three other doorways, the uses of which we must also mention. One at the north-west corner of the north transept leads to the staircase in the angle turret there; another, on the other side of the transept, is the way to the Treasury, to the clerestory gallery, and, by the gallery, to the Indulgence Chamber. The third is the splendid chapter-house doorway in the south transept aisle. To this one a special section will presently be devoted.

We have spoken more than once of the Treasury and the Indulgence Chamber. The latter is little used now, if at all, possibly because of the rather adventurous approach to it; but in the former the cathedral plate is still kept.

In the Paving of the choir there is a considerable variety. Up the choir proper we see slabs of variously coloured stones arranged in a not very elaborate pattern, part of the north transept and the whole of its aisle are also paved with stones of different colours “beautifully disposed,” and there is a similar but simpler flooring behind the altar. To nearly all the rest of the eastern arm was given by Sir G. Scott a glittering floor of encaustic tiles; but much of the pavement of the south transept and its aisle is still of plain stone. The tiles have mostly old designs, taken from some mediÆval examples still to be seen in the south choir transept and under an arch on the east side of the northern. To the east of the crossing is the matrix of a fine brass, of a bishop in full robes with mitre and crosier, with two shields of arms on each side of the figure. Farther on, between the altar and its rails, the tiling is very elaborate and, in a ring of it there, the signs of the zodiac appear. At the top of the dark marble altar steps there are tiles again. Those in front have representations of the seven virtues, and two others, with angels, are to be seen on each side.

The Stalls of the dean and canons stand against the organ screen and face towards the east. They were designed, in the Gothic style, by Sir G. Scott, and have no canopies on account of the painted decoration above. The choir stalls also owe their present form to Scott, but he incorporated in them as much old work as possible. The seats against the wall on each side (the misericords) are all new, but not so are the trefoil-headed arcade and the massive oak beam which bear the standards supporting their book-rests. This arcade still has some of its original colouring, and belongs probably to the original furniture of the choir at the time of its completion, early in the thirteenth century. Many sections of the heavy beam above are also old, perhaps of the same age. The backs of the front row of seats, bearing the book-rests to the middle row, are chiefly constructed of old Tudor panelling, which once belonged to the book-desks made for the new establishment in 1541. Tracing the history of the furniture from this time, we find Archbishop Laud, in 1634, ordering a new fair desk to be provided without delay. After the Civil War considerable repairs were no doubt needed, but it is not until 1742-43 that we find any great works undertaken. Wainscoting and pews were then erected, and we read of a furnishing of choir seats, and of stalls for the dean and prebendaries under the organ. Only slight alterations were made in these by Mr. Cottingham, but they were, in 1840, cleared of paint under his direction, and “beautifully grained as panel oak.” Finally, in 1870-75, they were done away with by Scott, whose new stalls were, together with other interior fittings of the choir, paid for with a sum of £3,000 generously given by Dr. and Mrs. Griffith, to whom the cathedral was already greatly indebted.

The old pews mentioned above rose in tiers, high and plain, on either side of the central alley, and the wainscoting behind them shut off the transepts, turning them into separate chapels. They and it were only removed in 1867.

Decorative Mural Painting.—On removing the panelling at the back of the old choir stalls, Sir Gilbert Scott found that the whole length of the walls had once been painted. The old stalls were fortunately so high that they had saved not only the lower border, which, with its ribbon pattern and yellow six-petalled roses, is the same on each wall, but nearly a complete row of the main design as well. Scott retained this, and repeated it over the rest of the space, up to the top border, of which traces remained just under the first string-course. This upper border varies slightly on the different sides. The shields in it, formerly blank, are now occupied with the coats-of-arms of bishops of the see.

The pattern that covers the space between the borders is certainly heraldic. The lions in the red quatrefoils, and the fleurs-de-lis in the alternate blue spaces, correspond in every possible way—in form, colour, and ground—with those of the royal arms of England and of France. Dating, as they almost certainly do, from the fourteenth century, they remind us of the attempts of Edward III. and his brave son to unite both realms under his sway. The idea of the design may have come from Canterbury, where an earlier border, of similar materials, alluded perhaps to Edward II.’s marriage with Isabella of France. After making this suggestion, Canon Scott Robertson[14] records a mention of the use, at much the same time, of a similarly constituted pattern on some altar-cloths at Westminster Abbey.

The painting is continued on oak panelling across the organ screen. A piece of the original panelling, with a fragment of an earlier rather tartan-like pattern also, is now hung, under glass, on a pier opposite the chapter-house door.

The Bishop’s Throne, on the south side, just to the west of the crossing, is of carved oak, in the Gothic style, and has a rich canopy. It was designed by Scott, and was a present to the cathedral from Lord Dudley, a brother-in-law of Bishop Claughton. Of two of its predecessors some particulars can be given. In 1743 Bishop Wilcocks gave a throne, classical in style, with a flat pedimental canopy supported by massive columns. The place of this was taken in 1840 by a new work of Cottingham’s, which was still more quickly supplanted by the present throne. Cottingham’s did not, however, long remain unused; it was taken to St. Albans in 1877 for the enthronement of Dr. Claughton as the first bishop of that new see.

On the north wall, directly opposite the bishop’s throne, there still remains a portion, about 5 ft. 10 in. high and 2 ft. 2 in. wide, of an old fresco painting of that favourite mediÆval subject, The Wheel of Fortune. This was uncovered when the older pulpit was taken down to make room for Mr. Cottingham’s in 1840. At that time, we are told, the background had a diaper of small flowers, and there was the outline of a shield above, in which, however, no charges could be traced. Fortune, pictured as a queen, is robed in yellow, and regulates the movement of her wheel, of the same colour, with her right hand. It is interesting to trace the changes in the dress of the other figures. At her feet a man, plainly clad in a dark red gown, with green stockings and black shoes, is trying to gain a position on the wheel. Above this poor struggling one we see one who has risen halfway to the summit, and whose attire is correspondingly richer. His gown is a little lighter in colour, and has a hood to match; his sleeves are yellow, his stockings green, and his shoes ornamented. At the top is proudly and comfortably seated the present favourite, richly arrayed in a full robe of red turned up with white, with furs round his neck, a white belt and green hose. He looks towards the missing half of the picture, where others were no doubt represented as falling or fallen from the high place that he now holds, and his countenance seems to express mingled satisfaction and inquietude.

This fresco dates probably from as far back as the thirteenth century. Attempts have been made to attach a more particular interpretation to it, to make it represent the rapid rise of Gundulf, for instance; but it seems correct to give it a general signification, to look on it as typical of the uncertainty and changeableness of earthly things.

The Pulpit, of plain wood, designed by Sir G. Scott, stands at the north-east corner of the crossing. Its predecessor, by Cottingham, used to be directly in front of the bishop’s throne, and is now in the nave. The Lectern, of brass, and in the well-known eagle form, is a gift from Bishop Claughton, and the stand to it was presented by Dean Scott.

The Altar stands, it will be noticed, some distance in front of the east end, and there is a free passage all round. This position was proved to be archÆologically correct when Sir G. Scott lowered the floor of this part of the church. The reredos, one of the fittings provided by Dr. and Mrs. Griffith, and designed by Scott, projects beyond the altar-table on each side in a way that is unusual and not altogether pleasing. It is of Caen stone, and contains a representation of the Last Supper in rather high relief, within a three-gabled canopy. The dark marble columns supporting the central gable are beautifully veined.

The altar seems to have kept its old position until 1634, when Laud, greatly shocked, gave orders to “place the communion-table at the end of the choir in a decent manner, and make a fair rail to go across the aisle as in other cathedral churches.” The dean and chapter protested slightly, pointing out that, if placed quite at the end it would be almost out of hearing of the congregation, and suggested as an alternative the erection of a screen behind it where it then stood. In 1642 some soldiers of the Parliament visited the cathedral, moved the altar, broke up the steps on which it was raised, and tore down its rails, leaving the wood as firing for the poor. Repairs must have been needed here, therefore, when the Restoration came. Later, by a chapter act of the 2nd June, 1707, the clerk was empowered to sign an agreement with a Mr. Coppinger for a new altar-piece, which seems to have been still in existence in 1788, and to be the one then described as of Norway oak, plain and neat, by the Rev. S. Denne. A resolution had been passed a little before, on the 6th December, 1706, that “the piece of rich silk and silver brocade given by the Bishop of Rochester should be put up.” If applied to the new altar-piece this did not last long, for in 1752 a large piece of rich velvet, in a frame elegantly carved and gilt, was purchased with £50 given by Archbishop Herring, a former dean, to take the place of the central panel of plain wainscot. This was itself removed in 1788, when a picture by Sir Benjamin West, P.R.A., “The Angels appearing to the Shepherds,” was inserted in its stead. This picture was presented anonymously, but the name of the donor, J. Wilcocks, Esq., a son of the bishop, transpired after his death. When Mr. Cottingham removed the old “Corinthian” altar-piece, West’s work was, in 1826, lent to St. Mary’s church, Chatham, on the condition that it should be returned when no longer needed. Archdeacon Laws was then rector. A later rector, Canon Jelf, was, in 1886, able to announce to his vestry that the dean and chapter waived all their rights, so the picture is still to be seen hanging over the vestry door. It cannot be called a great work, and we can scarcely wonder that it was thought by many unworthy of its high place in the cathedral.

The three great panels of Mosaic occupying the lower part of the east end, behind the altar, are a memorial to Mrs. Scott, the wife of the late dean. When the whitewash was scraped off, after the removal of the altar-piece in 1825, this wall was found to have been enriched with elaborate decorative paintings “of birds and beasts, fleurs-de-lis, lilies, crescents, stars, scroll foliage, fleury crosses, lace work borders, etc., arranged in most beautiful order and finely contrasted in colours, which consist of the brightest crimsons, purples, azures, greens, etc.”

The fine Piscina in the easternmost bay on the north side, just behind the altar, deserves notice. Its recess has a richly cusped arch, and in the wall below is a curious cupboard, intended probably for the sacramental vessels.

The Sedilia stand on the other side, in the third bay from the east. The stalls are of stone, three in number, and in date late Perpendicular. The arms on their canopies are those of the see of Rochester, of the Priory of St. Andrew, Rochester, and of that of Christ Church, Canterbury. Within the sedilia, at one time often mis-named “confessionals,” painted figures of bishops were formerly visible, even within the present century. The brass book-rest at the foot of the polished marble steps in front was given in Dean Scott’s memory by his sons and daughters. Opposite, on the other side of the chancel, stands a richly carved episcopal chair upholstered with blue velvet.

The Communion Plate is still kept in an old iron-bound chest in the “Treasury,” over the north choir transept aisle.

The chief service, consisting of two cups with covers, two flagons, an alms-dish and two patens with covers, was made for James, Duke of Lenox and Richmond, in London in 1653-54. Sir Joseph Williamson, a later resident at Cobham Hall bequeathed it to the cathedral by his will of 1701. The whole service was gilt, and the bequest included also a pair of magnificent pricket candlesticks, each nearly 20 inches high, with rich stems and massive scrolled bases. It is described by Canon Scott Robertson in “ArchÆologia Cantiana,” vol. xvi., and illustrated in vol. xvii.

Two other gilt cups and two patens, made at London in 1662-63, were given to the cathedral by Dr. R. Cooke, who had, the inscriptions tell us, become a prebendary in 1660. Each cup has engraved on it a copy of the common seal of the dean and chapter, with Dr. Cooke’s arms above. The button bases of the patens bear the donor’s crest.

The oldest and most interesting pieces at Rochester are, however, two alms-basins or patens (perhaps originally ciboria), made at London in 1530-31. The insides of the bowls, except the nearly vertical rims, are embossed with a honeycomb pattern, and beneath each hexagon here, there is a plain circle outside. The knops are ornamented with flowers and half-flowers, and the stems beneath have each a frilled collar and a pattern in repoussÉ of overlapping scales or leaves. The foot, under a cable moulding, is beaten into an egg-and-tongue pattern. One has on its rim, in Lombardic capitals, the inscription, Benedicamus Patrem et Filium cum Sancto Spiritu, and the other, the same except for the curious contraction, Sper., for the last word. There is also a cover of silver gilt, which was made at London in 1532-33. Its button handle has four supports, moulded like cords, and it is itself decorated in repoussÉ.

One solitary survivor of the old monastic plate remains, and some mention of it seems appropriate here. We allude to the famous Rochester mazer, made in 1532, and given to the refectory per fratrem Robertum Pecham. This is now in the possession of Sir A. W. Franks, by whom it was acquired at the sale of the Fontaine collection at Narford Hall. It is illustrated in “ArchÆologia,” xxiii., 393, and described by Mr. St. John Hope in the same publication, vol. 1., 168.

Monuments, etc.—When the great bishop, Walter de Merton, died, in 1772, a sumptuous monument was erected over his remains at the end of the north choir transept. His executors’ accounts give us particulars as to the cost. The chief feature was the enamel work by Jean de Limoges, who was paid £40 5s. 6d. for executing it, bringing it over and setting it up. The balance between this sum and the total amount of £67 14s. 6d. was paid for the rich, vaulted canopy and other masonry, the two stained glass windows and the iron railing.

This tomb suffered much at the time of the Reformation, and the Merton College authorities undertook its repair, during Sir Henry Savile’s wardenship, in 1598. It was then opened, and the body of the bishop, who had been buried in his robes, with his pastoral staff and chalice, disclosed. The staff on being touched fell to pieces but the chalice was removed to the college to be treasured there. The original enamelled work seems to have been injured beyond repair, so was replaced by the alabaster effigy now in the next bay. This effigy is remarkable for the anachronisms it shows. The bishop wears the rochet, the episcopal dress of the Reformed church instead of his proper robes, and the plain crook beside him bears no resemblance to the rich crosiers of the thirteenth century. The ruff round his neck and his broad-toed shoes are also plainly out-of-date. The mantle of estate refers of course to his rank as Chancellor, as did also the bag or purse that used to hang on the wall above. The inscriptions were on the front of the tomb, whence came also the death’s head panels to be seen with the effigy now.

Fresh injuries, suffered during the Civil War period, were made good by the college in 1662, and a tablet recording this, and balanced by the bishop’s arms, was placed at the back of the tomb where the windows had been blocked up. There were fresh renovations in 1701, and in 1770, when all the whitewash was cleaned off. The College also made an annual payment for care of the tomb.

The monument received its present form in 1849, when the Elizabethan effigy and details, and the old railing, were removed to the next bay, where they are still to be seen. The skeleton was then once more uncovered showing the bishop to have been a fine tall man, and a trace of the former opening of the tomb was found in a misplacement of the bones of the right arm, which had probably been disturbed when the chalice was removed. Fragments of wood and cloth, presumably remains of his staff and robes, were still to be seen. The two windows under the canopy were reopened and filled with stained glass, and on the tomb was placed a stone slab, “engraved according to the style of the thirteenth century,” with an ornamented cross having foliations on each side. “A new ornamental railing,” coloured and gilt, and of a tawdry character was placed in front of all. The canopy, with its crockets and pinnacles, and the quatrefoils of carved foliage in its gables are worthy of attention.

The tomb in the easternmost bay of the transept end is reputed to be that of St. William of Perth, the great Rochester saint. This transept formed his chapel, and his shrine is believed to have stood on a slab marked with six crosses, that lay in the centre of the floor until the present elaborate pavement was put down. Lambarde gives the following account of the saint, saying that he derives it from the “Nova Legenda” itself. “He was by birth, a Scot, of Perthe (now commonly called Saint Johns Town), by trade of life a Baker of bread and thereby got his living: in charity so aboundant, that he gave to the poore the tenth loafe of his workmanship: in zeale so fervent, that in vow he promised, and in deede attempted, to visit the holy land (as they called it) and the places where Christ was conversant on earth: in which journey, as he passed through Kent, hee made Rochester his way: where after that he had rested two or three daies he departed toward Canterbury. But ere he had gone farre from the Citie, his servant that waited on him, led him (of purpose) out of the high way, and spoiled him both of his money and life. This done, the servant escaped, and the Maister (bicause he died in so holy a purpose of minde) was by the Monkes conveied to Saint Andrewes, (and) laide in the quire.” In Baring-Gould’s “Lives of the Saints” (under May 23rd) we read that the murderer was a foundling, who had been brought up out of charity by him whom he slew. The pilgrim’s death occurred in 1201, and soon “he moalded miracles plentifully” at his tomb, so plentifully that with the offerings consequently there made, the choir of the cathedral was completed, ready for the solemn entry in 1227. His fame continued to grow so much, that in 1266 Bishop Lawrence de St. Martin went to Rome and procured his canonization, and he did not pass out of repute until Protestant times. The high coffin tomb, of dark marble, has on its lid a foliated cross in relief, and on its front four circular medallions with crosses of four sculptured leaves. The arch of the recess, springing from corbels of elaborately carved foliage, retains traces of colouring, and the wall within is painted with green foliated scroll-work on a dark red ground.

Under the northern arch on the east side of the transept is the curious sarcophagus tomb of Bishop Lowe, who died in 1467. This stood, until the time when the transept was thrown open, against the centre of the wainscot that separated the chapel of St. William from the choir. The arms on the shield at the end of the front are those of the bishop, and they occur again, borne by an angel carved in relief, on the right end, impaling there the coat of the see on the sinister side.

We pass now to the railed-off transept aisle, known as St. John the Baptist’s Chapel, or as the Warner Chapel from the three seventeenth century monuments that it contains. These are all in the “Palladian” style in vogue at that time, and constructed chiefly of touch (black marble) and white marble. They are in memory of Bishop John Warner (d. 1666), of his nephew Archdeacon John Lee Warner (d. 1679), and of the latter’s eldest son, Lee Warner, Esq. (d. 1698). The bishop’s monument is signed by the sculptor, Jos. Marshall, of London.

In the same chapel, in a recess beside Bishop Warner’s monument, is an old and weather-worn statue traditionally said to represent the great architect-bishop Gundulf. This was brought hither by Mr. Pearson, when he rebuilt the north-west tower, in the lower arcade of which it had been carefully replaced in the changes of about 1770. The mitre is almost lost, the face has suffered greatly, and the hands, feet and parts of the crosier are quite gone. The chasuble hangs in curious, close, U-like folds and the crosier staff passes diagonally across the body. From an etching published in the “Journal of the British ArchÆological Association,” in 1853, when the sculpture was, of course, less worn than now, there seems to be under the chasuble a dalmatic, and then under the dalmatic an alb over which the ends of the stole appear.

Under the arch between the aisle and the choir, is the most remarkable of all the monuments in the church, the tomb of Bishop John de Sheppey. Its very existence had long been forgotten, when Mr. Cottingham, in 1825, removed the chalk and masonry, with which it had for many years been covered and concealed. Whether this covering was to save it from the Roundhead soldiery or from earlier iconoclastic reformers is not known. Alluding to the bishop, Bishop Weever wrote, in 1631, “his portraiture is in the wall over his place of buriall.” We have here an evident reference to this effigy, and I think that Weever probably used “in” in its most literal sense, implying that “the portraiture” was already walled up in this time, though it has been taken to express merely the position within an arch of the choir wall. If the effigy had been long hidden the mere tradition of its existence might have died out during the troubled period between 1640 and 1660, but if it had been open to view in the earlier of these years it is not likely that all recollection of it would have passed so quickly away. We must remember too that this monument is more perfect than most others in the cathedral; and that they suffered, as we have already told, the greatest damage in early Protestant times. It seems, therefore, only reasonable to suppose that this most gorgeous of all had been already hidden and protected. So universal was destruction then and earlier, that in the second year of her reign Queen Elizabeth found it necessary to issue a stringent proclamation “against breakinge or defacing of monuments of Antiquitie, being set up in Churches or other publique places for memory and not for superstition.”

The bishop’s effigy lies, where it was found, on a high tomb with panelled sides, each having seven recesses separated by tiny buttresses. The canopy, ogee-shaped above, and with a plain elliptical arch below, was much mutilated, but seems to have been crocketed and terminated by a finial. It owes its present form to Mr. Cottingham, who restored it in 1840.

tomb of bishop john de sheppey
(from a photograph by j. l. allen).

The effigy itself has been much praised, and deservedly. The sculpture, in stone, is excellent, and the colours have a fine effect. It is surprising to see how general is the belief that this is “probably the most perfect specimen of ancient colouring now existing in England,” and how even great authorities refer to “its very perfect original colouring;” for in the “Gentleman’s Magazine” (September, 1825) we can read how the monument was treated just after its discovery. A Mr. Harris, in Mr. Cottingham’s employ, made two drawings of the effigy, one showing it as it was, the other as the architect thought it had been. The restoration of the colours, according to the second drawing, was then resolved on and carried out, and, as a result, “the dalmatic, instead of being a pink, is now a dull scarlet, with a green lining, and the shoes are painted yellow.” Matters are still worse when we see Mr. Harris complaining (in a letter now at the British Museum) that the renovation according to his drawing was done “by an unskilful hand, consequently the remains of the beautiful colouring were destroyed, which was much regretted by the dean, Dr. Stevens, at the time.” The sculpture seems fortunately not to have been tampered with; some fragments luckily discovered were fitted in their places, but no further restoration was attempted. These fragments were the top of the mitre, most of the fingers, the feet, and the head of one of the little dogs lying thereby.

The bishop’s face, naturally coloured like the rest of the effigy, is rather mutilated, but seems to have been close shaven. Under his outermost robe, the chasuble, comes the dalmatic, through the side openings of which the rich green of the tunic appears. The colour of the latter robe used, however, to be scarcely visible. The ends of the stole do not appear, but, under all, the alb hangs down to the feet. The apparel of the alb, the amice round his neck, and the maniple of his left arm are shown as richly embroidered with gold. The bishop wears jewelled gloves, and on the fourth finger of his left hand the episcopal ring, of gold set with a ruby. His head, with the precious mitre, rests on two cushions, and finally against his left shoulder lies the splendid crosier, of which, unfortunately, the crook is gone.

On the side towards the choir, of the slab on which he rests, we read “hic iacet dns iohans de schepeie epus huius ecclie.” The same words appear on the other side, except that istius takes the place of huius, a change which implies some independence in the chapel.

The railing before the tomb perhaps belonged to it originally. Along the upper band should be noticed the curious pounced pattern, and its three massive lily spikes cannot but attract attention. It was the occurrence of the letters i s, the bishop’s initials, just under the central spike, that led to the railing being brought hither from another part of the church.

A rare set of six lithographs, published by Mr. Cottingham, to which the text seems never to have been printed, shows us the monument as it was when found. Its present appearance can be judged, without a visit to Rochester, from the cast at the Crystal Palace, a fine set of drawings by Mr. Lambert at the South Kensington Museum, or the engravings published in an article by Mr. Kempe in the “ArchÆologia,” vol. xxv. The author of this paper, which was read to the Society of Antiquaries only seven years after the restoration, seems to have been unaware of any thing of this sort having been attempted.

In the rubbish over the effigy some remarkable fragments of polychrome sculpture were found. These are still preserved in the crypt.

Passing along the north side of the church, we see in the third bay from the east end, the curious shrine-like monument of dark marble, ascribed to Bishop Gilbert de Glanvill, who died in 1214. A very similar monument at Canterbury was once the subject of much discussion, but has lately been opened and proved to be the tomb of the renowned Archbishop Hubert Walter. He and Gilbert were contemporaries and friends, so the ascription of the Rochester example to the latter is very probably correct.

In the next bay is a coffin-shaped tomb of dark marble, with the recumbent effigy of a bishop, whose features are much mutilated, and whose hands and feet are gone. This tomb is assigned, it seems rightly, to Bishop Lawrence de St. Martin (d. 1274). The canopy over the head of the effigy is a fine and rich example of architectural work of the Early Decorated style.

Behind the altar is a great slab, which once bore the effigies, in brass, of a lady and of a knight in armour. When the slab had to be removed, during the erection of the new reredos, a leaden coffin was found, and a female body closely wrapped in lead. The knight here buried was Sir William Arundel, K.G., governor of the city and castle of Rochester, whose will, dated 1st August, 1400, gave directions for his “body to be buried in the Priory at Rochester, at the back of the high altar.” His lady, afterwards, in her will of the 6th September, 1401, arranged for her dead body to be laid “in the Priory of St. Andrews in Rochester, under the tomb where my husband and me are pictured.” Sir Richard Arundel, a brother of Sir William, and the next constable of the castle, was possibly also buried in this church when he died in 1412. In his will of the 8th July, 1417, he had expressed the wish that his grave should be made in the Lady Chapel.

On the south side of the chancel, in the easternmost bay, is a plain, dark-coloured marble coffin, without any inscription or ornament. This is ascribed to Bishop Gundulf, who died in 1107, but as it is rectangular and not of the old coffin form, Mr. Bloxam thinks that it cannot be placed earlier than the fifteenth century. Gundulf’s remains may, however, have been moved when the great eastward extension was made, and have been subsequently placed here. This would justify the tradition that the monument has contained his bones.

tombs of bishops glanvill and st. martin
(from a photograph by j. l. allen).

In the next bay to the west we have a dark marble monument, very like that of Bishop Lawrence de St. Martin, and possibly even by the same artist. Its canopy is, however, simpler. This tomb seems to be correctly attributed to Bishop Inglethorp, who died in 1291.

Passing the sedilia we come to a peculiar, probably thirteenth century, coffin, which still contained a skeleton when it was found in the crypt under the north choir transept during the clearance of some rubbish in 1833. The lid rises in dos d’Âne form, and along the ridge run two leafed rods, in relief, which bend outwards in scrolls, at the centre, just before they meet (see p. 105).

We now turn, finally, to notice another interesting stone coffin in the middle of the south choir transept end. This, also probably of the thirteenth century, has on its lid a cross in relief, the stem of which, with three pairs of curious drooping leaves, rises from a graduated base. This is probably one of two coffins, to which the Rev. S. Denne alludes as having existed in this part of the church. This, or the other, had been, he says, broken open by the Parliamentarians, and a chalice and crucifix removed therefrom.

Stained Glass in the Choir.—The six windows of the east end were given, in 1873, by ladies and gentlemen of the neighbourhood. They celebrate the successive dedications of the church to St. Andrew, and to Christ and the Blessed Virgin Mary. The middle window of the upper range contains a representation of Our Lord in Glory, that of the lower tier the scene of his Ascension. On the right hand is a figure of the Blessed Virgin above a picture of the Nativity, while on the other side a figure of St. Andrew, and the Call of that Apostle and St. Peter, are to be seen.

The four upper windows on the south side of the presbytery contain single figures of the four Evangelists, and commemorate, in order, Dean Stevens, T. H. Day, Esq., Mrs. Day and Mrs. Thorold. In the corresponding windows on the other side are pictured four writers of Epistles, St. Paul, St. James, St. Jude, and St. Peter.

It has been arranged that the four lower, three-lighted windows on the south side shall contain the twelve Apostles, one figure in each light. In the second from the east end we see (in memory of Alfred Smith, Esq.) St. John, St. Bartholomew, and St. Philip; and in the fourth (which commemorates Miss Nicholson), St. Jude, St. Simon, and St. Matthias appear. The others are still unfilled. The similar windows opposite illustrate scriptural allusions to Christ as the Good Shepherd. They are in memory of Dr. T. Robinson, Mrs. Griffith, General Travers, R.M., and Dr., once Canon Griffith; and show the Shepherd tending his sheep (St. John, x. 14-16); the Shepherd smitten and the sheep scattered (Zech., xiii. 7, St. Matt., xxvi. 31); the Crucifixion, where the Shepherd gives his life for the sheep (St. John, x. ii); and lastly, the Son of Man dividing the good from the evil, as a Shepherd divides the sheep from the goats (St. Matt., xxv. 31-46).

In St. John the Baptist’s Chapel there is a single stained window, with our Lord’s Ascension, in memory of Lieut. F. N. Hassard, R.E. Passing to the north transept we find the outer upper windows filled only with plain glass, while the middle one has a figure of St. Gregory, inserted in memory of Captain W. Walton Robinson, R.E., who died at Aden in 1887. The windows of the lower range contain figures of St. Gundulf, St. Paulinus, and Walter de Merton, and commemorate respectively Canon S. Dewe (d. 1885), Dr. G. Murray, Bishop of Sodor and Man and afterwards of Rochester (d. 1860), and Mrs. Maxwell Hyslop (d. 1888). Each of these four windows of the transept end contains a small scene beneath the single figure. The tiny light over Walter de Merton’s Elizabethan effigy was glazed, after the recovery of Mr. Thomas Aveling from a serious illness, by his family, and illustrates the miracle of the healing of the nobleman’s son.

All the glass described above is the work of Messrs. Clayton and Bell. The two plainer windows to the Merton tomb are by J. Miller.

Of the two windows in the south choir transept aisle, the first, by Gibbs, and given by the officers of the Royal Engineers in memory of their comrade, General Ballard, represents the Raising of Lazarus. The other, with Our Lord’s Resurrection was given by the Rev. T. T. Griffith, precentor, in memory of Thos. Griffith, Esq., and was executed by Hardman.

The windows of the south choir transept are also by Clayton and Bell. Those of the upper tier commemorate Major S. Anderson, C.M.G., Capt. W. J. Gill, R.E., and Capt. J. Dundas, V.C., and their respective subjects are: Moses during the fight against Amalek (Exod., xvii. 11, 12), Joshua and the Captain of the Lord’s Host (Josh., v. 13-15), and David advancing to do battle with Goliath (I. Sam., xvii. 48-49). Those of the lower range,—in memory of Major R. Hume, C.B., Capt. R. Nichols Buckle, R.E., and Capt. C. W. Innes, represent the centurion’s appeal to Christ for his servant’s healing (St. Luke, vii. 9), the Crucifixion, with the centurion at the foot of the Cross (St. Mark, xv. 39), and the appearance of the angel to another centurion, Cornelius, with the legend: “What is it, Lord (Acts, x. 4).”

The famous Chapter House Doorway, one of the finest pieces of English Decorated in existence, dates from the middle of the fourteenth century, probably from the episcopate of Hamo de Hythe.

The full-length figures, one on each side of the door, symbolizing the Church and the Synagogue, were both headless when Mr. Cottingham restored the doorway, between 1825 and 1830. Much fault has been found with him for turning the first, which is thought to have been like the other a female figure, into a mitred, bearded bishop holding a cross in his right hand and the model of a church in his left. The blindfolded “Synagogue,” by her broken staff, and the tables of the law held reversed in her right hand, typifies the overthrow of the Mosaic dispensation. Above are figures, two on each side, seated at book desks under canopies. These are supposed to be the four great Doctors of the Church: Saints Augustine, Gregory, Jerome, and Ambrose. Quite at the head of the arch, under a lofty pyramidal canopy, we see a tiny nude figure which represents probably a pure soul just released from Purgatory. If this is so, it would account for the flames from which the angels, on each side, bearing scrolls, seem to be rising. It has been suggested likewise that the distorted heads, which alternate with squares of foliage in the wider inside moulding of the doorway typify the sufferings of the soul in its passage. The outside moulding is also interesting, being a wide hollow in the bottom of which circular holes are cut at intervals. Through these can be seen the broad stem from which spring the leaves that ornament the intervening spaces. The arch head is ogee-shaped outside, with large external, and smaller, but not less rich, internal crockets. The square back to it, and the spaces beneath the corbels, on which the Church and Synagogue figures stand, are filled with noteworthy diapers. The first is divided diagonally into sunken squares, each containing a flower; and the others have lion masks in quatrefoils, with five petalled roses in the alternate spaces. The present door dates from Cottingham’s time. He had found the archway partially blocked, so that an ordinary square-headed door might be inserted, a most barbarous arrangement. In the passage within is a portrait of Bishop Sprat, and in the Chapter Room itself one of King James I. and a view in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin.

The Cathedral Library, also contained in the Chapter Room, is a small, rather general collection, which, though increased from time to time by the dean and chapter, had no regular provision made for its increase until “an excellent regulation was made (some years before 1772) ... that every new dean and prebendary should give a certain sum of money, or books to that value, in lieu of those entertainments that were formerly made on their admission.” This arrangement dates from the deanship of Dean Prat, who is recorded to have given a large book-case, which had once belonged to H.R.H. the Duke of York.

In the library there are several valuable bibles, including a copy of the famous first polyglot, known as the Complutensian, which was printed in six volumes at Alcala in Spain between 1502 and 1517, but was not published until 1522, owing probably to the death of its great promoter, Cardinal Ximenes. The Greek New Testament seems to have been first printed herein, though the edition of Erasmus (1516) forestalled it in publication. Brian Walton’s Polyglot, published, also in six volumes, at London in 1657, is likewise on the shelves. Of rare English bibles the cathedral possesses a copy of Miles Coverdale’s first complete edition in English (of 1535), of the rare and valuable Great Bible (Cranmer’s) printed under Cromwell’s patronage and published in 1539, and one of the first edition of Parker’s or the Bishop’s Bible, which dates from 1565. There is no early Book of Common Prayer, but a Missal (Salisbury use) of 1534 has been noticed.

the chapter house doorway
(from a photograph by messrs. carl norman and co.).

To turn now to manuscripts, disregarding the other classes of printed books, the cathedral possesses a great treasure in the Textus Roffensis, which is said to be the work of Bishop Ernulf and dates from early in the twelfth century. It contains old English codes of law, beginning with Ethelbert’s, much ecclesiastical and historical information, records of privileges of the cathedral, and some interesting forms of excommunication, oaths, etc. In 1633 the dean (Dr. Balcanqual) and chapter had to obtain a bill in chancery to enforce its restitution by a Dr. Leonard who had got it into his possession. During the Civil Wars it was in the charge of Sir Roger Twysden and was used by Dugdale for his great work. The book was at London in 1712 for Dr. Harriss, a prebendary of the cathedral, to use for his “History of Kent” (published in 1719). It was taken thither and back by water, and on the return journey fell into the Thames. It was, fortunately, recovered, not much damaged, but was re-bound afterwards. Lambarde, as well as later historians, used it. Parts were printed by Wharton in his “Anglia Sacra” (1691) and by Willems in his “Leges Anglo-SaxonicÆ” (1721). Hearne edited most of it, from a transcript by Sir Edward Dering, in 1720.

The Custumale Roffense (per fratrem J. de Westerham), another famous manuscript, dates from about 1300, its author, then a monk, became prior later, in Bishop Hamo’s time. In this book is much information about manors and the priory’s income from them, and it contains many interesting particulars of ancient tenures and rents, some details about the Rome-scot, notes as to the duties of various servants, etc. A printed edition of it, by Thorpe, appeared in 1788.

Two other manuscripts, relics of the old monastic library, have been found on the shelves, but the rest are scattered. This library must have been a rich one, for in a list, of as early as 1202, discovered by Mr. Rye in the Royal MSS. at the British Museum, there are as many as 241 works enumerated, mostly theological. Leland probably carried off many of them, since, out of eighty-six manuscripts in the British Museum, indexed there as having once belonged to the Rochester Monastery, no less than eighty-three are in the old Royal Collection. They are on vellum, partly illuminated, and many contain terrible anathemas against any who should deface or steal them. Two others have been found among Archbishop Parker’s MSS. at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, and one in Archbishop Laud’s bequest to the Bodleian. The famous Gundulf Bible has an interesting history. All traces of it are lost between the time of the Suppression and 1734, when it was sold from the possession of a clergyman, Herman Van de Wall, at Amsterdam. Later, in the 1788 edition of the Custumale, we read that it had been again sold, not many years before, at Louvain, for 2,000 florins. It came back to England afterwards and, at the sale of the Rev. Theodore Williams in April, 1827, passed into the famous collection of Sir Thomas Phillipps for £189.

Leaving the library we pass to the South Choir Aisle. This is twice as wide as that on the north side, and has acquired its present form by a curious series of changes. It was originally of the same width, and the south tower stood in the angle between it and the south transept. After the great twelfth century fires, a wall was carried eastwards from the middle of the tower to form the north side of the cloisters, which were then being repaired. A little later, possibly at the time when the south choir transept was built, the original aisle wall was removed and the whole space between the choir proper and the new cloister included in the aisle. The tower was not yet removed, in fact its demolition did not occur until about one hundred years later, towards the end of the thirteenth century. The present wooden roof was then erected, instead of a fine vaulting springing from a central pillar, which seems to have been originally intended.

The flights of twelve and ten steps, which together take up the whole width of the aisle, lead respectively, up to the eastern part of the church and down to the crypt. The wooden enclosure over the crypt entrance is used as a vestry. Two doors open into the south choir transept, one from the vestry and one directly from the aisle itself.

The massive buttress supporting the choir wall, at the head of the steps to the undercroft, is divided into stages by a flat niche or panel with side-shafts of Purbeck marble. This was found, in 1840, to contain a mural painting of the Crucifixion, with the Blessed Virgin and St. John at the foot of the cross. The principal face below had a gigantic representation of the Madonna and Child, more than 12 feet in height. At about the same time the elegant little doorway at the west end of the aisle was found. It could not be reopened, but its mouldings were uncovered. It is of the Early English period and has a dripstone ending in a bishop’s and a female head.

In this aisle, on its north side, is the tomb thought to be that of Bishop John de Bradfield, who is stated by Edmund de Hadenham to have been buried on the south side of the church, “juxta ostium excubitorum,” i.e., by the watchers’ door. It has a very battered figure of a bishop in low relief.

The Crypt, or undercroft, is approached by the flight of steps in the south choir aisle, but its original entrance seems to have been on the other side of the church. Just inside the doorway, with its peculiar flatly-pointed head under a pointed arch, there is, to the right, a small square cell which may have been used as a place of confinement.

The crypt is one of the finest in England, and the later, main portion of it is the last great work of the kind carried out in this country. The two western severies, consisting of the old Norman work, are now shut off to contain the organ bellows and their machinery, and the whole southernmost aisle has been partitioned off into a series of new vestries, erected with the proceeds of Dean Hole’s recent lecturing tour in America. The whole width is divided into seven aisles, three under the choir proper and two under each transept. Each seems to have had an altar at its east end; several piscinas still remain. The main walls above are carried by heavy masses of masonry, which rather break the vistas, while other masses help the usual columns to bear the steps on which the altar stands.

In the early Norman work extending for two bays from the west we see circular shafts, with rough, convex, cushion capitals, and the lower corners chamfered. The plain rubble cross-vaults here have no ribs but the groins are pinched down to make them more prominent. The rest of the crypt is Early English, with circular and octagonal columns both occurring and having quadripartite vaulting. The clever way in which the architects overcame the difficulty caused by differences of span is worthy of attention. On the vaults, traces of painting, of floral diapers, etc., can still be seen, and in “The New British Traveller” (1819) we have a description of a subject medallion then to be seen beneath St. William’s Chapel. “In a circle is a representation of a vessel sailing, with a large fish in the water in front, and on one side the upper part of a monk, with his hands uplifted as in prayer,” apparently an illustration of the story of Jonah.

In the crypt are preserved many interesting fragments, including the pieces of polychrome sculpture found with Bishop John de Sheppey’s monument. The most important is a statue of Moses, who bears his name on the tablet of stone that he holds.

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