houses built on its site are falling to ruin; and now the Jews are going to remove them and erect a synagogue on the spot. But passing to the vast monastery of St. Augustine, we find tall and massive towers, beautiful gateways, and immense masses of wall, yet standing, and now likely to stand for at least as many years as they have hitherto stood. These splendid remains, and the modern works now almost completed within them, may well occupy the tourist the whole of a long summer's day. The site of St. Augustine is at the south-east angle of the city, without the walls, but very near to them. Its earliest traditional history is, that the spot was designed by King Ethelbert as a royal cemetery, and was thus selected, according to the law of the twelve tables, which prohibited the burying or burning of corpses within the walls of the cities and towns. By very ancient custom, the sepulchres of the dead were placed by the sides of the highways, of which there are examples without number in the neighbourhood of Canterbury. Accordingly, the cemetery here was on the straight road from Burgate to Richborough. The monks turned that road aside to Longport, in order to secure that burying-place within their own enclosure. "A common footway," adds Gostling, "lay through it for many years, even till Mr. Somner's memory; but the great gate of the cemetery, towards the town, is lately turned into a dwelling-house, and that which came into the road near St. Martin's, walled up." The monastery which St. Augustine began to build with the assistance of Ethelbert, very soon after the conversion of that Saxon king, was probably not very spacious; "it was dedicated to St. Peter and St. Paul." In the year 978, when it had been enlarged, St. Dunstan dedicated it afresh, not only to St. Peter and St. Paul, but also to its founder, Augustine, who had been canonized since the first building was erected. From this period the monastery has always been called by the name of St. Augustine. The beautiful seal of the monastery, both in its legend and in its sculptures, embodies the history of this religious house: the legend, being translated from its abridged monastic Latin, is-"The seal of the monastery of the blessed apostles Peter and Paul, and St. Augustine of Canterbury, the apostle of the English." The figures on the seal represent, in the upper part, St. Peter and St. Paul seated under arched canopies, and in the lower part St. Augustine baptizing king Ethelbert, who is placed in a font closely resembling that ancient one preserved in St. Martin's church. The reverse of the seal is occupied by a large figure of St. Augustine sitting beneath a canopy, with six other ecclesiastical figures of various sizes in other parts of the seal. This precious sygillion, of which there is a perfect impression in our record office, is supposed to be of the age of King Edward III. The monastery was gradually increased by the piety and munificence of successive kings and nobles, all progress made in architecture, in sculpture, in painting, or in glass staining, was applied here; so that the place grew even more in beauty than in size. King Athelstane granted to the Abbot of St. Augustine the license to have a mint for coining money. This privilege was enjoyed by the house until the year 1161, when Abbot Sylvester died, and the monastery was seized by King Stephen, who was hard pressed for money wherewith to maintain the war against the Empress Maud. The privilege was never restored afterwards. By the Pope's license, the Lord Abbot used a mitre and sandals like a bishop. Before King Stephen laid his hands upon the revenues of the house, the monastery had suffered much from the Danes. In the year 1011 the Danes destroyed the city of Canterbury with fire and sword. "Some of those sacrilegious men," says the monkish chronicler, Thorn, "entered the monastery not to say their prayers, but to carry away whatsoever they could lay hands upon. One of them, more desperately wicked than the rest, comes boldly to the sepulchre of our apostle, St. Augustine, where he lay entombed, and stole away the pall with which the tomb of the saint was covered, and hid it under his arm. But Divine vengeance immediately seized upon this sacrilegious man, and the pall which was hid under his arm stuck to the arm of the thief, and grew unto it, as if it had been new natural flesh; insomuch as it could not be taken away either by force or by art, until the thief himself came and discovered what he had done, and confessed his fault before the saint and the monks, and then implored their pardon. This example of Divine vengeance did so affright the multitude of the Danes, that they not only offered no violence to this monastery afterwards, but became the chief defenders of the same." In the year 1168 the greater part of the church of the monastery was burnt, and there perished in the flames, together with altars and shrines of saints, very many ancient charters and codicils. The extent of ground covered by the various buildings of the monastery, and enclosed as its precincts, was immense. So splendid was the place, that at the dissolution Henry VIII. appropriated it as a royal palace. In Queen Mary's time the monastery was granted to Cardinal Pole for his life. In 1573 Queen Elizabeth, making a royal progress, kept her court here. She attended divine service at the cathedral every Sunday, during her stay at Canterbury, and was magnificently entertained, with all her attendants and a great concourse of other company, by Archbishop Parker, on her birth-day, which she kept at the archiepiscopal palace. The site of the monastery was afterwards granted to Henry Lord Cobham. On the attainder of that nobleman in 1603, it was granted by James I. to Robert Cecil, Lord Essenden, (afterwards Earl of Salisbury). From the possession of Cecil it passed to that of Thomas Lord Wootton of Marley. Here King Charles I. consummated his marriage with the Princess Henrietta of France, on the 13th of June, 1625; he had met the princess at Dover, and had brought her to Canterbury that day. Mary, the dowager of Lord Wootton, resided in part of the monastery during the civil war between Charles I. and the Parliament; and at the restoration Charles II. lodged here while on his way first squared by the mason. There are extant enfrom Dover to London. A square facing one of the gravings and etchings which convey a good notion of the remaining gateways of the monastery is still called architecture of the tower. Somner supposes it to have Lady Wootton's Green. It is no longer possible to trace been the bell-tower of the church, having in it a bell the wide circuit of the walls of the monastery. In dedicated to St. Ethelbert. In 1655, when Dugdale's several places they have been knocked down in order 'Monasticon' was published, the tower was nearly comto admit the view of tasteless modern buildings; in plete, and the apartments were such as might and did other places they have been cleared away to make room serve for a palace. The walls of the monastery then for houses, for the Kent and Canterbury Hospital, and enclosed about sixteen acres of land; and it had an for the county gaol. This ruthless devastation has almonry beyond the walls. The gate at the southern been perpetrated within these seventy years, and great extremity of the western range is called St. Ethelbert's part of it within the last five-and-twenty years. In Gate, and was built by Thomas Ickham, a monk and Gostling's time the walls which enclosed the whole sacrist of the monastery: it is tolerably well preserved, Precincts were standing. The west wall, which was but it has been plastered over, and adapted to the purthe principal front, remains tolerably complete to the poses of a modern dwelling-house. Still it looks well extent of some three hundred feet, or from the great as you approach it through Burgate-street. The northgate at the northern end, to the cemetery gate at the ern or principal gate was, until lately, a most picturFar behind these two splendid gates there stood esque ruin, though sadly degraded in the uses to which St. Ethelbert's Tower, the pride of the edifice, and the it was applied. loftiest and most ancient remaining part of it. A portion of this magnificent tower had fallen, or had been brought down by the violence of man; but high and broad masses remained, and would have remained for many a century if they had been left to themselves or to the gentle dealings of the elements. Rent and riven, partly covered with ivy, and crowned and festooned with wallflowers, it was one of the most picturesque and most striking of ruins. Gostling tell us, that in his time a barbarous trial was made, "whether pulling down Ethelbert's Tower, towards building a seat in the neighbourhood, would answer the expense." It did east. not; neither, perhaps, did the digging up some stone coffins of the monks for that purpose; for that was also laid aside." It was the vile practice of turning these ancient edifices into the purposes of stone-quarries that destroyed so much, and left so much in a state of insecurity. The practice was very prevalent in the days of Queen Elizabeth. To some worshipful noodles living in Berkshire and on the borders of Oxfordshire, by Caversham, she bounteously gave a grant, allowing them to knock down and cart off as much of the stone of Reading Abbey as would build them good manor houses. But although St. Ethelbert's Tower had a happy escape from the barbarians of old Gostling's days, it had none from the tasteless imbecility and the groundless fears of the Canterbury Goths of our own day. Some wiseacres took it into their heads that the tower might fall, and, in its fall, crush the Kent and Canterbury Hospital, which had been built not far from its base-others coveted the fine old stone. They set to work in a hurry to knock it all down. So far was it from falling, that they found this work one of extreme difficulty. An immense battering-ram was employed for several days before the tower could be brought to the ground. When the deed was done, the generality of the good folks of Canterbury felt a useless regret. The stone which composed this fine tower was partly made use of to repair the plinths and shafts of Canterbury Cathedral, and was found to be as sound as when it was Vandalism had a long reign within these holy walls of St. Augustine. Two years ago the site was occupied by a brewery, and a dependent public-house and bowling-green. The great room over the archway of this principal gate was a cock-pit; and although the sport had decayed, it was not so many years since the time when mains used to be fought in that apartment. One ancient room, disfigured by modern windows, was a tap-room: they played at fives against one of the venerable walls of the edifice; and in the summer months the sound of skittle-playing, quoits, and singing-if singing it might be called-were never silent: but the scene is now changed. Two years ago, Mr. Henry Beresford Hope, member for Maidstone, and the tasteful son of a tasteful father (the late Thomas Hope, of Deepdene, author of 'Anastasius,' &c.), began to restore the great gateway, and to build within the walls a college for the education of missionaries of the Church of England. Brewery and public-house, fivecourts and skittle-grounds, were swept away to places more fitting for them. The college is now all but complete, and will be opened in the course of a few months. The buildings are admirable in style, and in their close adaptation to the remains of the ancient edifice. To copy servilely, in modern works, the architects of the monkish ages, is no very creditable exercise of ingenuity; but here a faithful copy was called for, in order that that which is new might harmonize with the old. When time shall have mellowed and softened these new works, this harmony will be very complete. Great praise is due to the taste and liberality of Mr. Hope, who has spent an enormous sum on the college and the restorations; and to the skill of Mr. Butterfield, his architect. The great gate now looks as it must have done in the period of its splendour. (Cut, No. 2.) The quadrangle, into which you enter on passing through the gate, is exceedingly fine; as are the chapel, the hall, the library, and all other parts of the college, which, on the whole, bears a close resemblance to an ancient Benedictine monastery of Italy. There are cloisters, eminently picturesque ; and up-stairs there is a corridor, lined and roofed throughout with solid oak, narrow and very long, which has a charming romantic effect. The apartments for the students are small, simple, primitive; but if they are to do the duties for which they are appointed in remote heathen countries, the nurture of those young men ought not to be too delicate. The greatest attention has been paid to details. In the chapel, in the hall, the sculptured ornaments, whether in stone or in wood, have been admirably executed; and they might stand a comparison with the works of the best times. Although very little has been publicly said of this college and of these restorations, they will, when complete, give a new character to this part of Canterbury, and a new charm and attraction to the whole city. If a few very ugly and very dirty houses which face the college, or stand between it and the southern gate, could be levelled with the soil, and the space they occupy covered with green sward, the change would be perfect. Obstructed as it is, the view from the restored gateway of the walls and turrets of the city, and of the towers and spires of the Cathedral, is a most noble view, and one never to be forgotten. Rarely have two such magnificent establishments as the Cathedral and Christ Church Monastery, and St. Augustine Monastery, stood so close to each other. It is, as it were, but a step from this restored gateway to the porch of the Cathedral. That step we now take. Nothing upon earth more picturesque, or more solemn and imposing, than the exterior of our Cathedral! Huge are its dimensions-of many different ages, and of various styles, is its architecture; yet there is some magic-differences become like similarities, and every part is in harmony and keeping with all the rest. The sober grey colouring, with here and there a darker hue which reigns throughout, is the very colour a painter would have chosen for such an object--is the best tint that the eye can rest upon. The great tower called Bell Harry Tower, is one of the most chaste and beautiful specimens of the pointed style of architecture in England. The two towers at the west end are full of grandeur and beauty. Part of this stupendous edifice was built by St. Augustine shortly after his arrival, upon ground which was said to have been occupied by some Christians of the Roman army. This edifice suffered from Danish fires. Archbishop Egelnoth, who presided from 1020 to 1038, repaired the mischief which the Danes had done, being aided by the royal munificence of Canute. But about the year 1067, in the time of Archbishop Stigan, the church was again injured by fire; and nothing appears to have been done towards its repair until after the year 1070, when Archbishop Lanfranc, with architects and masons from Normandy, began to rebuild and enlarge it. Then, too, rose into magnificence the Archbishop's palace and the monastery. Archbishop Anselm, who succeeded Lanfranc, made great improvements, and designed far more than he lived to finish; he was aided by Prior Ernulph, and by that prior's successor, Conrad, two men of eminent taste in architecture, whose names are preserved in different parts of the Cathedral. The choir is called "The glorious choir of Conrad." In 1174, in the fourth year after the murder of Thomas à Becket within its walls, the Cathedral again suffered greatly by fire. "On September 5, 1174, three small houses on the side of the church took fire, and the wind blowing a storm from that quarter, lodged some of the sparks which arose from them between the leads and the ceiling of the Cathedral: this not being observed, they kindled a fire there, which did not show itself till its violence was such that there was no possibility of putting a stop to it. "The leads were melted; the timber-work and painted ceiling, all on fire, fell down into the choir, where the stalls of the monks added fresh fuel in abundance; so that the flames, increased by such a heap of timber to fifteen cubits, burnt the walls, and especially the pillars of the church." He adds, also, that "not only the choir was consumed in these flames, but also the infirmary, with St. Mary's Chapel, and some other offices of the court."* Except in the great tower, nearly all the wood-work, with everything that was combustible, was consumed; but this left the solid walls and columns erect, though scorched and blackened. But Thomas à Becket was now canonized, and a new and unprecedented impulse was given to the spirit of pilgrimage. Pilgrims of the highest ranks crowded to visit the scene of the martyrdom, and did not quit it without leaving their oblations. In 1177, Philip, Count of Flanders, came hither to meet King Henry II. In June, 1178, King Henry, on his return from Normandy, paid another visit to the Cathedral; and, in the next month, William, Archbishop of Rheims, came over from France with a great retinue, to pay his vows to St. Thomas at Canterbury, where the king met and received him honourably. In the course of the following year, Louis VII., King of France, came to Canterbury with Henry II. and a great train of nobility of both nations, and were received by the archbishop and his com-provincials, the prior, and all the monks, with great honour and unspeakable joy. "The oblations of gold and silver, made by the French, were incredible. The French King came in manner and habit of a pilgrim; was conducted to the tomb of St. Thomas in solemn procession, where he offered his cup of gold, and a royal precious stone, with a yearly rent of one hundred muids of wine, for ever to the convent, confirming the grant by royal charter, under his seal, delivered in form." By the help of such munificent benefactors, the monks of Christ Church soon found themselves enabled not only to repair all the damage Lanfranc's church had suffered, but also to make it far more glorious than ever. A vast deal of this work was done within eight years after the fire. William of Sens appears to have been the chief architect. In the ninth year from the fire, the monks were brought to a stand-still for want *Gervase, the monkish chronicler, as rendered by Gostling. 6 pictures of the Virgin Mary, in seven several glorious appearances, as of the angels lifting her into heaven, and the sun, moon, and stars under her feet; and every picture had an inscription under it, beginning with Gaude, Maria; as Gaude, Maria, Sponsa Dei;' that is, 'Rejoice, Mary, thou Spouse of God.' There were in this window many other pictures of popish saints, as of St. George, &c. ; but their prime cathedral saint, Archbishop Becket, was most rarely pictured in that window, in full proportion, with cope, rochet, mitre, crosier, and his pontificalibus. And in the foot of that huge window was a title, intimating that window to be dedicated to the Virgin Mary." In afterwards describing his own share in the work, he lets out that he was not a little vain of the performance, although he withholds his name:"A minister," he says, was on the top of the city ladder, near sixty steps high, with a whole pike in his hand, rattling down proud Becket's glassy bones, when others then present would not venture so high." 66 of money. But soon a fresh tide flowed in, and brought | twelve apostles; and in that window were seven large so much more money than was necessary for the repairs they were employed upon, that they set about a grander design, which was, to pull down the east end of Lanfranc's church, with a small chapel of the Holy Trinity adjoining, to erect a most magnificent one instead of it, and to add to that another building in honour of the new object of their devotion-St. Thomas the Martyr. While they were thus employed, votaries continued to bring their oblations in abundance; and St. Thomas had visitors who soon put the monks in a state to erect a chapel for the reception of his relics. The ceremonial of removing the body of the saint was performed on the 7th July, 1220, with the greatest solemnities; the Pope's legate, the Archbishops of Canterbury and Rheims, with very many bishops and abbots carrying the coffin on their shoulders, and placing it in his shrine. King Henry III. was present, and the archbishop, Stephen Langton, was so profuse on the occasion, as to leave a debt on the see which his fourth successor could hardly discharge. During the two following centuries devotees to the saint increased daily, pilgrimages became more frequent and numerous, and gifts and offerings came in so fast, that his shrine grew as famous for its riches as for its holiness. Erasmus, who visited it about 1510, says, "Gold was the meanest thing to be seen there; all shined and glittered with the rarest and most precious jewels of an extraordinary bigness; some were larger than the egg of a goose." This chapel, at the east end of the chapel of the Holy Trinity, was called 'Becket's Crown.' The monks were still employed in adding glory and beauty to it, when Henry VIII. put a stop at once to the works and the oblations, seized on the treasures and estates of the monastery, and provided for the members of it as he pleased. The history of the building of the cathedral fills a large volume, but the history of its decline is soon told. These seizures of Henry VIII. left not money enough to keep the vast buildings in proper repair: fresh spoliations were perpetrated in the days of Edward VI. by the protector Somerset and his rapacious crew; during the civil war between Charles I. and the Parliament, the barbarous puritans smashed nearly all the beautiful old stained glass, destroyed much of the sculpture and carving, turned the nave of the church into stabling for their horses, and quartered themselves in the transepts and chapels. One of the actors in this work of ignorant zeal, Richard Culmer, more commonly called 'Blue Dick,' who was appointed one of the six preachers in the cathedral after the abolition of episcopacy, thus records the destruction of the great window in the northern wing of the western transept: "The commissioners fell presently to work on the great idolatrous window, standing on the left hand as you go up into the choir; for which window some affirm many thousand pounds have been offered by outlandish papists. In that window was now the picture of God the Father, and of Christ, besides a large crucifix, and the picture of the Holy Ghost in the form of a dove, and of the In the days of Queen Ann and the two first Georges, repairs were ordered; they were executed in execrable taste, and it is only within the last quarter of a century that these works have been done as they ought to be. No cursory view can give the visitor an adequate notion of this immense and complicated building, of this world of masonry, and it is impossible for us to attempt here anything like a detailed description. It may be sufficient to say that the choir is one of the most spacious in the kingdom, being nearly 200 feet in length, from the west door to the altar, and thirtyeight in breadth between the two side doors. The extreme length of the whole building, from east to west, is 514 feet, and the extreme breadth 71 feet. The height of the great tower is 235 feet. The interior, of which the restorations are now complete, is almost exhaustless in its objects of historical interest. In the northern portion of the western transept a spot is pointed out as that on which Becket was assassinated. Of the precious shrine of the martyr the only trace that now remains is afforded by the pavement around the spot where it stood, which is worn down by the knees of the crowds of worshippers that, during more than three centuries, offered here their oblations and their prayers. Tombs and monuments abound. Here lies Edward the Black Prince; here Henry IV.; here Archbishop Langton, the great promoter of the struggle which ended in the obtainment at Runnymede of Magna Charta; and numerous other monuments, interesting in themselves or through the character of those whom they record, are strewed thickly about. Under your feet there is the crypt or under-croft, a subterraneous church, the largest in England, the most curious in its construction, and the most solemn and picturesque in its effects. Its erection is commonly ascribed to Archbishop Lanfranc; but we are of opinion with those who believe the greater part, if not the whole of it, to be of considerably greater antiquity. This crypt has numerous chapels, and in one of these, which is rather difficult of access, are some perfect remains of paintings on walls, not in fresco, but in surface-painting. But why is this chapel difficult of access? Why was the crypt itself shut up for a quarter of a century, a hiding-place for rubbish? Why, we ask in conclusion, do not the doors of this cathedral stand open like those of York? Why, in the first place at which foreigners halt in Englandwhy, in the place most venerable in its Christian associations is the showman's hateful shilling still demanded? Outside of the cathedral church there is another world of masonry. The space enclosed within the Precincts of Christ Church is of vast extent, and contains many edifices more or less modernized or barbarized. Two gateways give access from the town into these Precincts. One called the Precinct Gate—a “very goodly, strong, and beautiful structure, and of excellent artifice," according to Somner, opens upon the ancient avenue from the High Street called Mercery-lane. This lane is traditionally said to have been the usual resort of the numerous pilgrims, who were wont to throng from all parts of the world to Canterbury. Thus Chaucer sings, "And specially from every shire's end Of Engle-land to Canterbury they wend. That them hath holpen when that they were sick." In this lane several of the adjacent tenements seem anciently to have formed only one house, or large inn, But the same appearances present themselves also in other parts of the city; and, doubtless, there were large inns elsewhere as well as in this short lane, which, if it had been entirely devoted to that purpose, certainly could not have nearly lodged the whole crowd of pious strangers which in those days Canterbury usually contained. Mercery-lane, however, may probably have anciently been the favourite and most honourable place of resort for this description of visitors, as being the avenue leading to the Cathedral and its holy precinct. We subjoin an interesting passage on the subject of Canterbury pilgrimages from Mr. Saunders's valuable Illustrations of Chaucer,' published in the 'Weekly Volume.' "William Thorpe, in the year 1407, was brought before Archbishop Arundel on a charge of heresy. Among the subjects introduced into his examination was that of pilgrimages. Thorpe is accused of having said, those men and women that go on pilgrimages to Canterbury, to Beverley, to Karlington, to Walsingham, and to any other such places, are accursed and made foolish, spending their money in waste.' Thorpe, in answer, supports the truth of these opinions, and says that people go on pilgrimages more for the health of their bodies than of their souls, 'more to have riches and prosperity of this world than to be enriched with virtues in their souls, more to have here worldly and fleshly friendship than for to have friendship of God and of his saints in heaven.' This curious passage shows us, that if Thorpe were right in his idea of the unspiritual tendencies of the custom, the custom still had its uses, and important ones; though no doubt pilgrims generally felt scandalized by such naked expositions of the true character of pilgrimages. Thorpe, however, can give us a picture of the actual thing, as well as of its objects. "Also, sir,' he says, 'I know well, that when divers men and women will go thus after their own wills,' they will arrange with one another 'to have with them both men and women that can well sing wanton songs; and some other pilgrims will have with them bagpipes; so that every town they come through, what with the noise of their singing, and with the sound of their piping, and with the jingling of their Canterbury bells, and with barking out of dogs after them, that they make more noise than if the king came there away with all his clarions and many other minstrels. And if these men and women be a month in their pilgrimage, many of them shall be an half year after great janglers, tale-tellers, and liars.' The Archbishop's answer, partly in justification, gives an odd instance of the advantages of pilgrims having with them such singers and pipers; 'when,' he says, 'one of them that goeth barefoot striketh his toe upon a stone, . . . . and maketh him to bleed, it is well done that he or his fellow begin then a song, or else take out of his bosom a bagpipe for to drive away with such mirth the hurt of his fellow. For with such solace the travel and weariness of pilgrims is lightly and merrily brought forth.'-(State Trials.) on "Persons of all ranks, from the highest to the lowest, were accustomed to fulfil this great duty, as it was esteemed, and which certainly was a great pleasure, of going on pilgrimages, and more especially to the shrine of the chief saint of sinners, Thomas à Becket. Thus one occasion Chaucer's own patron and king, Edward III., goes with his mother to Canterbury, in Lent; whilst, in reference to the other extremity of the social scale, the statute of 1388 tells us plainly that no one was too poor or humble for the privilege. That statute enacted that no servant or labourer, whether man or woman, should depart at the end of his term of service out of the hundred, rape, or wapentake where he was resident, under colour of going on pilgrimage, unless he had letters patent containing the cause of his going, and the time of his return. There was little difficulty in those days as to the means of support for such poor pilgrims. Their wealthier companions would no doubt aid them when necessary; there was a hospitable welcome for them at every monastery or hospital; above all, there was the little wayside chapels, erected for the accommodation of travellers, and more especially for pilgrims, where not only shelter was provided, but a pittance of food in addition for those who needed it. In our pedestrianism,' says a periodical writer,*we have traced the now desolate remains of several of these chapels along the old pilgrims' road to Canterbury."" We have thus hastily run over some of the more * In the Athenæum, Nov. 2, 1844. |