Bridge Street.—Ancient Crypt.—The Blue Posts and the Knave of Clubs.—Roman Bath.—Grosvenor Street.—New Savings Bank.—The Cemetery.—Curzon Park and Hough Green.—The Port of Saltney.—St. Michael’s Church.—St. Olave’s Church.—The Gamull House.—St. Mary’s Church.
Heigho! After our bootless lamentation over the deceased Port of Chester, it is refreshing to return once more to an atmosphere of life and activity.
Turning our faces towards the south, we have before usBridge Street, another of the four great Roman roads of the city. Here again we see the Rows,—those strange old Rows!—threading their tubelike course along both sides of the Street. The one upon the right hand is called theScotch Row, from the merchants north of the Tweed ‘clanning’ together there, during the two greatFairs, held annually at Chester from time immemorial. It should be remembered that, except at these privileged times, none but freemen were permitted to trade within the city; whence is to be attributed the large concourse of foreign tradesmen to these once important Fairs. Since the downfall of this monopoly, theScotch Rowhas become a desert wilderness, so far as business is concerned; but it will still serve as an admirable index to the stranger of what the Rows of Chester were a hundred years ago. The street fronts of the houses in this Row are more than ordinarily diversified,—the square red brick, the everlasting gable of every shape and size, the stately bow-window, and the ponderous, overhanging Dutch fronts, all flaunting their pretensions within this circumscribed space. Previous to 1839, no special archæological interest attached to this locality; but in that year while excavating for a warehouse behind the shop of Messrs. Powell and Edwards, cutlers, a discovery was made which at once set all the antiquaries of Chester “by the ears.” The late Rev. J. Eaton, Precentor of the Cathedral, an architectural authority in his day, made the following Report upon thisAncient Crypt, as it is called, for the use of the proprietors.To these gentlemen, and particularly to Mr. Edwards, the representative of the firm, the public are deeply indebted for their intelligence and courtesy, in not only preserving intact this relic of the past, but also for so readily affording admission to the structure:—
“The lower parts of several of the houses in the four principal streets of Chester exhibit indubitable signs that they have been built on the remains of the religious buildings with which, prior to the Reformation, this city abounded.“The ancient Crypt discovered by Messrs. Powell and Edwards is of an oblong form, running from east to west. The following are its dimensions, viz. length, forty-two feet; breadth, fifteen feet three inches; height, from the surface of the floor to the intersection of the groinings of the roof, fourteen feet. This Crypt was partially lighted through the upper part of the west end, in which there are three small windows, divided by stone mullions, and protected by iron bars. The upper part of the groining on the centre window appears to have been cut away to admit of more light. On examining the intersection of the groins, marks were discovered from the lead on the stone-work, that a couple of lamps had been used for lighting. The entrance to the east end is by a flight of steps cut out of the rock to the height of three feet. On the south side is an Anglo-Norman-Gothic doorway, which is attained by three or four semicircular steps, and forms an outlet within its inner and outer wall by another flight of steps to the surface above the building. In a niche on the south side of the window is a font in excellent preservation.“The architecture is Anglo-Norman-Gothic, and the groins are of the third class of groining, which came into common use about the year 1180, and was succeeded in the next class of groins in the year 1280, so that if we date this roof as being erected about the year 1230, we shall not be far from the era of its real construction.”
“The lower parts of several of the houses in the four principal streets of Chester exhibit indubitable signs that they have been built on the remains of the religious buildings with which, prior to the Reformation, this city abounded.
“The ancient Crypt discovered by Messrs. Powell and Edwards is of an oblong form, running from east to west. The following are its dimensions, viz. length, forty-two feet; breadth, fifteen feet three inches; height, from the surface of the floor to the intersection of the groinings of the roof, fourteen feet. This Crypt was partially lighted through the upper part of the west end, in which there are three small windows, divided by stone mullions, and protected by iron bars. The upper part of the groining on the centre window appears to have been cut away to admit of more light. On examining the intersection of the groins, marks were discovered from the lead on the stone-work, that a couple of lamps had been used for lighting. The entrance to the east end is by a flight of steps cut out of the rock to the height of three feet. On the south side is an Anglo-Norman-Gothic doorway, which is attained by three or four semicircular steps, and forms an outlet within its inner and outer wall by another flight of steps to the surface above the building. In a niche on the south side of the window is a font in excellent preservation.
“The architecture is Anglo-Norman-Gothic, and the groins are of the third class of groining, which came into common use about the year 1180, and was succeeded in the next class of groins in the year 1280, so that if we date this roof as being erected about the year 1230, we shall not be far from the era of its real construction.”
Messrs. Powell and Edwards make no charge for admission: we must not omit, therefore, ere we pass out from theCrypt, to drop a stray piece of silver into the hat of theBlue Coat Boywho stands modestly at the door. Charity is seldom ill-bestowed; but here we have the special privilege of contributing, in however slight a degree, to the gratuitous education of the orphan and the friendless.
The Row upon the left hand is the one most frequented, forming a junction at right angles with Eastgate Row, before described.In the sixteenth century this Row was distinguished by the name of theMercers’ Row, from the predominance here, probably, of that most enticing class of tradesmen. The love of dress and finery was evidently, even in those days, woman’s chief besetting sin!
A little way down this Row was an ancient tavern, called theBlue Posts, supposed to be the identical house now occupied by Mr. Brittain, woollendraper. In this house a curious incident is stated to have occurred in 1558, which tradition has handed down to us in the following terms. It appears that—
“Dr. Henry Cole, Dean of St. Paul’s, was charged by Queen Mary with a commission to the council of Ireland, which had for its object the persecution of the Irish protestants. The doctor stopped one night here on his way to Dublin, and put up at theBlue Posts, then kept by a Mrs. Mottershead. In this house he was visited by the mayor, to whom, in the course of conversation, he related his errand; in confirmation of which he took from his cloak bag a leather box, exclaiming in a tone of exultation, ‘Here is what will lash the heretics of Ireland!’ This announcement was caught by the landlady, who had a brother in Dublin: and while the commissioner was escorting his worship down-stairs, the good woman, prompted by an affectionate regard for the safety of her brother, opened the box, took out the commission, and placed in lieu thereof a pack of cards, with theknave of clubsuppermost! This the doctor carefully packed up, without suspecting the transformation; nor was the deception discovered till his arrival in the presence of the lord deputy and privy council at the castle of Dublin. The surprise of the whole assembly, on opening the supposed commission, may be more easily imagined than described. The doctor, in short, was immediately sent back for a more satisfactory authority; but, before he could return to Ireland, Queen Mary had breathed her last. It should be added that the ingenuity and affectionate zeal of the landlady were rewarded by Elizabeth with a pension of £40 a-year.”
“Dr. Henry Cole, Dean of St. Paul’s, was charged by Queen Mary with a commission to the council of Ireland, which had for its object the persecution of the Irish protestants. The doctor stopped one night here on his way to Dublin, and put up at theBlue Posts, then kept by a Mrs. Mottershead. In this house he was visited by the mayor, to whom, in the course of conversation, he related his errand; in confirmation of which he took from his cloak bag a leather box, exclaiming in a tone of exultation, ‘Here is what will lash the heretics of Ireland!’ This announcement was caught by the landlady, who had a brother in Dublin: and while the commissioner was escorting his worship down-stairs, the good woman, prompted by an affectionate regard for the safety of her brother, opened the box, took out the commission, and placed in lieu thereof a pack of cards, with theknave of clubsuppermost! This the doctor carefully packed up, without suspecting the transformation; nor was the deception discovered till his arrival in the presence of the lord deputy and privy council at the castle of Dublin. The surprise of the whole assembly, on opening the supposed commission, may be more easily imagined than described. The doctor, in short, was immediately sent back for a more satisfactory authority; but, before he could return to Ireland, Queen Mary had breathed her last. It should be added that the ingenuity and affectionate zeal of the landlady were rewarded by Elizabeth with a pension of £40 a-year.”
The first street we meet with on the right hand isCommonhall Street, so called from theCommon Hallof the city having been at one time situate there. This hall of justice stood upon the south side of the street, and close to those venerable-looking almshouses still situate there. It had previously been theChapel of St. Ursula, which was founded there, with anHospitalfor decayed persons, by Sir Thomas Smith, in 1532. The Hospital of St. Ursula still weathers the storm, in those odd-looking, totteringalmshouses on the south side of this street. Lower down Bridge Street, on the same side, is another break in the row, formed byPierpoint Lane, not now a thoroughfare, but through which went a passage in olden time to theCommon Hall, just referred to.
Scarcely so far down as this last-named lane, and on the opposite side of Bridge Street, is a new and handsome range of buildings, erected in 1853 by Mr. Alderman Royle. On the higher side of these premises, and adjoining the Feathers Hotel, exist aRoman HypocaustandSweating Bath, of surpassing interest, and in a state almost as perfect as when first erected. The following account of this “ancient of days” is the result of a recent personal visit to the bath.
It consists of two rooms, considerably below the present level of the street—the first being fifteen feet long, eight feet wide, and about six and a half feet deep. The Hypocaust is of rectangular shape, about the same size, but, except at the entrance, not more than half as deep as the first chamber. It was originally supported by thirty-two square pillars, two and a half feet high, and one foot in diameter at top and bottom: twenty-eight of these pillars still remain. Brick tiles, eighteen inches square, and three inches thick, surmount these pillars; and over these are placed tiles two feet square, perforated here and there with small holes, through which the heat ascended to thesweating chamberabove. The sweating room, or Sudatory, was immediately over the Hypocaust, and was fitted with seats for the bathers, who soon found themselves in a hot perspiration. They were then scraped carefully with an instrument constructed for the purpose, or else plunged into a cold water bath; after which they were rubbed down with towels, anointed with fresh oil, and then repaired to the tiring room: there they dressed themselves, deposited theirdenariifor the attendants, and then went their way, having enjoyed a luxury which few but Romans had then learned to indulge in.
As we have before stated, the buildings above and around have been only recently rebuilt: but Messrs. Royle, the proprietors, with that antiquarian zeal, and true public spirit, which have ever distinguished them, took especial precautions to preserve, both from injury and molestation, this curious relic of proud old Rome. Since the adjacent premises have been rebuilt, the bath is much easier of access than it was before; and visitors can now inspect these remains without any personal sacrifice, either of cleanliness or comfort.
Lower down than the Roman Bath, there was, until recently, a break in this Row, occasioned by a narrow lane, which leads up to the stables of the Feathers Hotel. This inconvenience has now been obviated by a neat wooden bridge, stretching across the passage from row to row; and we can now walk along, without the slightest obstruction, till we come to St. Michael’s Church.
The large and well-conceived street upon the right hand isGrosvenor Street, capable, under proper management, of being made the finest street of the city. It is flanked on the right side byWhite Friars, formerlyFoster’s Lane, in which the Church and Monastery of that fraternity was at one time situate.
Grosvenor Street, and King’s Head Inn
At the junction of White Friars with Grosvenor Street stands that capital, well-conducted establishment, theKing’s Head Inn. This is one of those quiet, cosy-looking houses, in which, the moment a traveller enters, he feels himself “at home;” andcertainly, under the presidency of Mr. and Mrs. Bedson, he will find that—“deny it who can!”—domestic comforts are still to be enjoyed in an old English inn.
Some thirty yards up the street, on the right hand, is Cuppin Street, before noticed; and nearly opposite to it, an old and narrow street calledBunce Lane, leading off to St. Mary’s Church and the Castle. Beyond, upon the same side, is an elegant structure of white freestone, erected in 1853, from the designs of Mr. James Harrison, of this city, to wit, the ChesterSavings Bank. The architecture of this building is of the Tudor style; and the genius of Mr. Harrison has accomplished a work which, while highly creditable to himself, is, at the same time, a genuine ornament to the city. The clock turret at the north-west corner, though it somewhat destroys the equilibrium of sight, yet, on the whole, adds much of beauty to the general fabric. The clock, which works four faces, and chimes the quarters on two melodious bells, was constructed by Mr. Joyce, of Whitchurch.
The ordinary business of this Bank is conducted in two large rooms, nearly twenty feet square, on the ground floor; over which a spiral staircase conducts to the committee and lecture-room, a noble apartment, forty-one feet long by twenty feet wide, lit on the north and west sides by four handsome traceried windows. The panelled ceiling, and other internal decorations of this room, are exceedingly chaste, and in happy unison with its exterior character. The Bank was formally transferred here from Goss Street in March, 1853. Here the poor and thrifty hoard up their little savings; the shillings grow into pounds, and provision is thus quietly, but surely, made against the rainy day. Let us never despise the day of small things, remembering that the foundation of many a rich man’s fortune has been laid with his first shilling deposited in a Savings Bank.
On the right is St. Bridget’s Church; and from this spot we obtain a capital view of theCastle, including the Grand Entrance, Shire Hall, Barrack Square, and Julius Cæsar’s Tower. We have noticed the Castle more particularly in our “Walk round the City Walls;” so we will now pass on towards the Grosvenor Bridge, one of the modern wonders of old Chester. From the parapet of this bridge we obtain a splendid view of the Roodeye and river, as well as of the Viaduct and Railway Bridge in the distance. This bridge has obtained an unenviable notoriety from its having broken down with a passenger train, on May 24, 1847, precipitating the whole of the carriages and passengers into the river below. By thisaccident four persons were killed upon the spot, and very many others more or less injured.
We are no sooner over the Grosvenor Bridge than we feel ourselves at once out of range of the town, and breathing the fresh and balmy air of the country. Bowers of trees are on either side of us, through which we can see, upon our left hand, something which seems like unto a Christian temple. The gateway we are approaching stands invitingly open; let us therefore step in, and cast a quiet glance at the prospect around. Despite the rose-clad lodge which guards the entrance, and the numerous flowers and shrubs that everywhere greet the eye, we are at once struck that this is a sacred scene, a royal domain of the grim King Death. “Tread lightly,” then, all who would venture in hither, for assuredly “this is holy ground;” and while we reverently scan the numerous memorials of the departed lying scattered around, let us all prepare, ere the day be too far spent, to follow them in peace and in hope to our last earthly home. There are few but have, at some time or other, borne a friend to the grave—perhaps even the soul and centre of their domestic hearth;our‘household god’ lies peacefullyhere. To all such these lines, coming thus from among the tombs, will lose nought of their original force and beauty:
Forget not the Dead, who have loved, who have left us,Who bend o’er us now from their bright homes above;But believe, never doubt, that the God who bereft usPermits them to mingle with friends they still love.Repeat their fond words—all their noble deeds cherish—Speak pleasantly of them who left us in tears;From our lips their dear names other joys should not perish,While time bears our feet through the valley of years.Yea, forget not the Dead, who are evermore nigh us,Still floating sometimes round our dream-haunted bed;In the loneliest hour, in the crowd they are by us!—Forget not the Dead,—oh! forget not the Dead!
Forget not the Dead, who have loved, who have left us,Who bend o’er us now from their bright homes above;But believe, never doubt, that the God who bereft usPermits them to mingle with friends they still love.
Repeat their fond words—all their noble deeds cherish—Speak pleasantly of them who left us in tears;From our lips their dear names other joys should not perish,While time bears our feet through the valley of years.
Yea, forget not the Dead, who are evermore nigh us,Still floating sometimes round our dream-haunted bed;In the loneliest hour, in the crowd they are by us!—Forget not the Dead,—oh! forget not the Dead!
TheChester Cemetery, for such is the beautiful spot we are exploring, seems as if formed by nature for the repose of the dead—all is so still, so serenely still, within its halllowed sphere. Nature and Art have alike combined to produce here a retreat worthy of the dead, and yet full of beauty and allurement for the living; while on the lake below us
See how yon swans, with snowy pride elate,Arch their high necks, and sail along in state;
See how yon swans, with snowy pride elate,Arch their high necks, and sail along in state;
In fine, the beautiful trees and shrubs, the serpentine walks, the rustic bridges, the isle-dotted lake, the ivied rock-work, the modest chapels, and, above all, the tombstones of chaste and mostly appropriate design which meet us at every turn—all point out the Chester Cemetery as a fitting refuge for all, who in serious mood would “commune with their own hearts, and be still.” But we must not longer linger here, save to cast a look towards the ancient city, the river, Castle, and the New and Old Bridges, which from the north side of the Cemetery present to the eye a varied and truly interesting panorama.
Opposite to the Cemetery, reached from the Grosvenor Road by a pretty little suspension bridge, isCurzon Park, the property of Earl Howe, and upon which some handsome, aristocratic villas have been erected. It is from Curzon Park whence that view of the city is obtained which figures as the frontispiece of this “Guide,” and certainly from no point is old Chester seen to greater advantage than from this elevated and commanding locality.
Continuing our course from the Cemetery, we come to what we who live in towns and travel only by rail, so seldom meet with—a turnpike-gate,—through which we see theGrosvenor Gateway, to be noticed more particularly hereafter. A road upon the left leads toHandbridgeandQueen’s Park, and that upon the right to one of the most thriving suburbs of Chester,Hough Green, andSaltney. Now,weare not troubled with a superfluity of grey hairs, yet do we well rememberSaltneywhen but two houses occupied the site of the present little town. There was nothing heardthenof thePortandtrade of Saltney! But since the cutting of the two great Railways which form a junction, though not an alliance, at this spot,Saltneyhas rapidly risen in importance and population. A large Ironworks and coal trade have been established, new streets have sprung up, yclept severally Cable Street, Curzon Street, Wood Street, &c., and the number of inhabitants is now computed at about 3000. The new Church, erected in 1854–5, comes scarcely within our province, standing just beyond the boundaries of the city, which is here separated only by a narrow lane from the Principality ofWales. Looking at the rapidity with which building is going on atSaltney, and at the causes which have induced it, we shall not go far wrong in predicting for this ‘child of the old city’ a long future of commercial health and prosperity.
Returning once more toBridge Street, we must pause awhile atSt. Michael’s Church, standing at the north-east angle of thisstreet and Pepper Street. A Church existed here, in connexion with a Monastery of the same name, almost coëval with the Conquest. In the year 1178, John de Lacy, constable of Chester, whose ancestor Roger de Lacy had devised theMonastery of St. Michaelto the Prior of Norton, gave a messuage adjoining this church to the Abbot of Stanlaw. Two years afterwards, viz., on Mid-lent Sunday 1180, this Church and monastery were, with a large portion of the city, destroyed by fire; and Bradshaw the poet-monk assures us, doubtless “on the best authority,” that if it had not been for the virtues attaching to the holy shrine of St. Werburgh, the whole city would have then “lain in dust and ashes!” He that hath faith enough to remove mountains, let him swallow this also—weare confessedly an infidel. TheMonasterydoes not appear to have been rebuilt after the Great Fire; but of theChurchfrequent mention is made in old charters and deeds. It has been several times rebuilt—the last time in 1849–50—so that it is, at this moment, the newest ecclesiastical edifice in the city. Mr. James Harrison, the architect of the Savings Bank and Music Hall, furnished the plans and elevations for the present Church of St. Michael.
St. Michael’s Church, and Lecture Hall
Perhaps the best view we can have ofSt. Michael’s Churchis from a little way down Bridge Street, just opposite to that useful building, theNew Lecture Hall. Chester has long stood in need of a room for such purposes, moderate in dimensions, and conveniently situate; and Dr. Norton, the proprietor of the newLecture Hall, has laudably ministered to that want, by providing a public room admirably adapted, from its size and situation, for popular lectures and musical entertainments. Our illustration embraces a view both of theLecture Halland ofSt. Michael’s Church.
Just behind where we have been standing is a curious relic of the timber architecture of Chester—the Falcon Inn. A few yards higher up than the Falcon, the street was for nearly two centuries blocked up by a strange-looking timber building, erected by Randle Holme in 1655, called theOld Lamb Row. While this house was in being it was the greatest curiosity of its kind in the city; but in 1821, the decaying timbers suddenly parted from their bearings, and the entire pile fell in with a great crash, to the unspeakable relief of the pent-up thoroughfare, but to the great chagrin and regret of the antiquary.
We are now descendingLower Bridge Street, which abounds, on either side, with those queer-looking tenements, not to be met with in such numbers and variety in any other city but Chester. Here is one with the date 1603, evidently the residence, in its earliest days, of some Cestrian magnate long since “returned to his dust.”
But see! yonder rattles a bus, with a party from the station, down to that first-class establishment, theAlbion Hotel. This house has no superior in the city; for while of handsome external proportions, its interior arrangements have all been conceived with especial regard to the comfort and convenience of visitors. TheAssembly Roomis the largest in the city; the other rooms are light and lofty; in short, under the zealous superintendence of Mr. and Mrs. Chambers, none who once make acquaintance with theAlbionwill ever sigh for better or more comfortable quarters. Behind theHotelare extensive pleasure-grounds, as well as a verdant and spacious Bowling-green, to which there is a carriage entrance fromPark Street.
Only a step or two from the Albion, and on the same side, near the residence ofMr. Snape, the eminent dentist, isSt. Olave’s Lane, so named from the Lilliputian church, dedicated to that saint, at its south-west corner. This Church dates back earlier than the Conquest. The advowson in the eleventh century was vested in the Botelers or Butlers; from whom it passed by gift of Richard Pincerna, in 1101, to the Abbey of St. Werburgh.St. Olave’sappears to have been always “in low water,” astarvingrather than aliving; for in 1393, on account of its poverty, the parish was temporarily united with St. Mary’s. Down to the seventeenth century, however, it eked out a precarious existence; but after the close of the civil war, the ordinary services of the church were discontinued for about a century; when they were again resumed, until the final extinction ofSt. Olave’sas a distinct parish, in 1841. In that year the Church was finally closed, and the parish united to that of St. Michael. The “powersthat be” are fast allowing this ancient structure to develop into a ruin.
Lower Bridge Street, and Albion Hotel
Opposite to St. Olave’s isCastle Street; beyond which, up a flight of steps, is a large tenement, of late years known as theBoarding-School Yard. This was in the seventeenth century the mansion-house of the Gamulls, a worthy Cheshire family; and here, on September 27, 1645, Sir Francis Gamull (Mayor of Chester in 1634) lodged and entertained Charles I. on his Majesty’s visit to Chester during the great Civil War. The house is now divided into tenements; but several of the rooms still retain evidence of their original splendour.
Still farther down, we have upon the leftDuke Street, and on the rightShipgate Street, through which, in old time, the citizens used to pass by way of the Ship Gate, across the river, into Handbridge. It leads also to St. Mary’s Hill; on the summit of which, half-embowered in trees, we are introduced to the ancient Church ofSt. Mary.
St. Mary’s Churchis in all probability of Norman foundation; and is in old writings termed indifferentlySt. Mary’s of the Castle, andSt. Mary’s upon the Hill, to distinguish it from the handsome Church of the White Friars, which was also dedicated to that saint. Randle Gernons, fourth earl of Chester, presented the advowson to the Monastery of St. Werburgh; but shortly after the dissolution it was wrested from the dean and chapter by that rapacious spoiler of churches and religious houses, Sir R. Cotton, who afterwards sold it for 100l.to John Brereton of Wettenhall. In this family it continued for about a century, when it passed by purchase to the Wilbrahams of Dorfold. From them it came by marriage to the Hills of Hough, whose representative sold it to the father of the present Marquis of Westminster. Of no external beauty, with a tower of miserably stunted proportions (so built in 1715, in order that it might not overlook the Castle),St. Mary’s Churchis nevertheless well deserving a visit from all lovers of true ecclesiastical order. Here is a Church which, whenwefirst remember it, was a disgrace alike to the authorities and to the parish—choked up with galleries of hideous shape and size—disfigured with pews of unsightly construction,—the walls and ceilings buried in plaster, whitewash, and dust, and the monuments and windows all alike in a state of ruin and decay. Let us step into the Church, and survey the change which has been effected within a few short years. We are no sooner inside, than we are at once convinced that this is indeed the House of God,gradually, and, under the auspices of the present worthy rector,judiciouslyreturning to its first estate, as a seemly temple, worthy of the Most High. Here is none of that venerable dust, that insidious mould, so painfully visible in other churches we might mention; but everything we see, from the floor to the ceiling, from the altar to the organ, is both correct in taste, scrupulously clean, and in most beautiful, Church-like order. The Church consists of a nave, with a clerestory of twelve lights, and a handsome panelled roof adorned with Christian monograms and devices,—two side aisles,—two chancel chapels, named respectivelyTroutbeck’sandSt. Catherine’s,—and a spacious chancel, in which are some elaborately carved stalls and open seats. So rapidly as stolid prejudice will admit, this uniform style of seat will be adopted throughout the Church.
The monuments within the Church are of considerable interest. One there is, in the north aisle, profuse in heraldic display, to the imperishable memory of the fourRandal Holmes, local antiquaries and heralds of considerable note, whose united Cheshire collections fill more than 250 MS. volumes in the British Museum. The third Randal was the author of that extraordinary and scarce heraldic work,—the “Academy of Armory” published in 1688. An elegant modern brass, and two altar-tombs of curious workmanship, adorn St. Catherine’s Chapel, at the end of this aisle. One of the latter remembers Thomas Gamull, Recorder of Chester in 1613, son of Edmund Gamull, aforetime Mayor of Chester, and father of the celebrated royalist Sir Francis Gamull, who suffered sequestration of his estates during the Usurpation. The recumbent figures of the Recorder and his wife Alice appear upon the tomb; and at the feet of the lady kneels their infant son, afterwards the loyal Sir Francis Gamull. Their three infant daughters, holding skulls in their hands, and two elaborate shields of arms, ornament the side of the tomb. A similar tomb near bears the half-recumbent effigy of Philip Oldfield of Bradwall, dressed in the costume of the period, with a long gown and ruff, and a roll in his left hand. The figures of his four sons, each bearing a shield of arms, support the slab on which he leans, and between them a painted skeleton, in a similar attitude to the effigy, appears on the side of the tomb. Two daughters kneel at his head, and these also bear shields, in token of their marriage. Both these monuments are deserving the attention of the curious.
One of the north windows, by the side of these relics, is filled with stained glass. The east window also of this aisle, attractingthe eye of the visitor the moment he enters, has just been adorned with an obituary memorial of intense national interest. Erected by public subscription, this window commemorates the glorious deeds of the gallant 23rd Regiment (Royal Welsh Fusileers) at the battles of Alma, Inkermann, and Sebastopol in 1854–5. The 23rd is a regiment highly esteemed by the Cestrians, nay, almost regarded by them as their own; and most of those brave spirits, officers and men, who nobly fell “with their faces to the foe” on those hard-won fields, had but a few months before regularly attended divine service atSt. Mary’s Church. The subject represented in the window is Aaron and Hur holding up the hands of Moses, while the patriarch blesses the warring hosts of Israel; for as we read, in Exodus xvii. ver. 11, 12, “Moses’ hands were heavy, and Aaron and Hur stayed up his hands, the one on the one side, and the other on the other; for it came to pass, that when Moses held up his hands Israel prevailed, and when his hands fell down, Amalek prevailed.” It is a pretty and appropriate subject for such a memorial as this, implying the Christian Soldier’s dependence upon the God of Battles!
The chancel, and Troutbeck chapel in the south aisle, also contain some tasteful and appropriate painted windows, ancient and modern; and on the south wall of the latter were discovered, a few years ago, some curious remains of ancient mural painting, representing theCrucifixionandResurrectionin curious juxtaposition with the figures of aKing, aBishop, and thered and white rosesof York and Lancaster. The many beautiful monuments once embellishing the Troutbeck aisle were destroyed by the falling in of the roof in 1660. In bidding adieu to the church ofSt. Mary the Virgin, we may confidently assert that “ne vile fano” is the motto of Mr. Massie, the present rector,[77]for a neater and better ordered church we have not yet met with in our tour through the city.
Once more returning to Lower Bridge Street, we have before us theBridgegate, and two or three choice but eccentric-looking houses of the wood and plaster type, as depicted in our engraving.
Passing under theBridgegate, by theDee MillsandOldBridge, we might, if we chose, wander forth intoHandbridge, were there anything in that suburb deserving our especial notice. As it is, however, we will make good our return toThe Cross, and pursue, in the next chapter, our peregrinations through the Streets of “rare old Chester!”
The Bridge Gate
The view here engraved affords a capital idea of the old timber houses still glorifying the city; while we gain, at the same time, such a prospect of theBridge Gateas is not to be obtained from any other point.
Northgate Street.—Commercial Buildings.—The Rows.—The Exchange.—Music Hall and Old Theatre.—Chester Cathedral.—St. Oswald’s Church.—The Cloisters and Chapter-House.—Promptuarium, Refectory, and King’s School.
Ourtours of inspection have, so far, been all down hill; let us now, then, take higher ground, and move glibly onward upNorthgate Street.
PassingSt. Peter’s Church, at the corner of the street, we come immediately to that classic pile of white freestone—theCommercial Buildings and News Room, erected in 1808, from the designs of Mr. T. Harrison, the architect of theCastleand of theGrosvenor Bridge.
To this succeedsShoemaker’s Row, extending about a hundred yards along the left side of the street. The Row upon the right hand used formerly to be known asBroken-shin Row, from the rugged and uneven character of the thoroughfare, and the manifest dangers that threatened theshinsof those who ventured along it. Originally it is said to have been double its present length; but modern innovation—that wolf in sheep’s clothing—has here, as elsewhere, played terrible havoc with “ye good olde citie.”
A little higher up than this latter-named Row, we may profitably turn round, and survey, from this slight eminence, the lower part of the Street we have just traversed, together with the curious architecture of the houses inShoemaker’s Row. The scene is a picturesque one, with its oddly-carved beams and overhanging gables, which look as if ready to fall down on the beholder. But in order more fully to impress it on your memory, we present you farther on with a faithful sketch ofNorthgate Street, as seen from this point.
Onward we go, until an open space upon our left introduces us to the Market-Place of Chester’s famed city. The market for vegetables is held in this area, with no other covering save the “bright blue sky;” but the sale of fish is conducted in that airylooking building, which occupies, we will not sayadorns, the lower end of the Market-Place.
Northgate Street
But what is yon new-looking structure, overlooking the Marketplace?New, did you say? Why, it is not very far from a couple of hundred years since that building, theExchange, first delighted the eyes of the old-fashioned citizens. True, the stone-work has been lately restored, and the bricks newly pointed; but practically this is the sameExchangewhich, in 1698, was completed at a cost of 1000l.,—Roger Whitley, the then Mayor, being a large contributor. The statue embellishing yonder niche on the south front is a graceful representation of Queen Anne, of glorious memory, in her coronation robes,—a work which must have emanated from no mean chisel. The superstructure of theExchangestood originally upon four rows of stone columns, the ground floor being otherwise entirely open; but in 1756, just a hundred years ago, owing to some well-grounded fears for the safety of the structure, the lower tiers of shops, &c., were erected,as an extra support to the fabric; the greater portion of these are now occupied as police-offices, lock-ups, &c. On the higher story are theAssembly Room, thePenticeorCouncil Chamber, and the spaciousTown Hall. TheAssembly Roomwas a popular resort in the last generation, when corporation feasts, redolent of venison and primest turtle, were perpetually being discussed there; but it is many a long day since these savoury viands graced the aldermanic board. Oh, for the good old days! The winter Assemblies, too, wont to be held here, are now transferred to more congenial quarters at the Royal Hotel. TheTown Hall, which is theCommon Hallof the city, is a noble apartment, the walls ornamented with full-length portraits of numerous city notables, among whom figure Recorders Townsend, Leycester, Comberbach, and Williams; and Sirs Henry Bunbury, and John Egerton, members for the city, of eminence in their day. Here are held the Quarter Sessions for the city, official public meetings, and the Elections forthe city representatives in parliament. Immediately beyond this room is thePenticeor Council Chamber, where the mayor and magistrates settle the accounts of the drunk and disorderly, and take preliminary depositions in cases of felony, &c. This room, in which the Mayor is also annually chosen by the Council, has on its walls full-length portraits of George III., several members of the Grosvenor family, and of William Cross, Esq., the first Reform Mayor of Chester. Yonder series of large panels, contain portraits of Owen Jones, Offley, and other famous benefactors to the poor of the city. In a room in Abbey Square, theCity Records, extending from the reign of the first Edward to the present time, are wretchedly huddled together—we wish we could saypreserved; but surely the day is not far distant when a custodian of these important documents shall be appointed by the Council,—one who shall not only understand, but alsoglorifyhis office; then will many a dark epoch in the city’s history be unravelled, and many a fact revealed which now lies hidden in the dust of obscurity.
Exchange, and Markets
Opposite to theExchangeisSaint Werburgh Street, down which we must straightway roam, having a glorious treat awaiting us, in our long-promised visit toChester Cathedral.
But before we set foot within the sacred fane, let us proceed a little further, in order to examine yonder stately-looking pile, only just completed,—to wit, theNew Music Hall. Perhaps no structure within the city has undergone greater or more numerous changes of character than the shell of the one we are now surveying. The first we hear of it is as the Chapel of St. Nicholas, built, it is supposed, early in the fourteenth century. About this time, we read that the monks of St. Werburgh (monks were greedy dogs!), wishing to have the whole Cathedral to themselves, transferred the parish Church of St. Oswald, then as now occupying the south transept of the Cathedral, to this Chapel of St. Nicholas, which latter had perhaps been built with that idea “looming in the future.” But the parishioners and corporation repudiated the change, and after much litigation recovered their old parish Church,—so the chapel of St. Nicholas was speedily deserted. After being “to let” for some fifty or sixty years, we next hear of it as theCommon Hallof the city, removed here from Common-hall Street in 1545. In this service it remained, the arena oflaw, if not ofjustice(for the two do not always go hand in hand), until 1698, when the magisterial chair was removed to its present resting-place in theExchange. The third phase inits existence was its conversion into the warehouse of a common carrier, and into a mart for the sale ofwool; the name it then bore was theWool Hall. Again was St. Nicholas the victim of transformation; for, at least as early as the year 1727, the walls, which once echoed forth the sounds of prayer and praise, were made to ring with the ribald jests of a commonplayhouse. Thirty years afterwards, there were two Theatres open at one time in Chester,—onehere, and the other at the Tennis Court in Foregate Street; but about 1768, the latter establishment was closed up, and its “galaxy of talent” transferred to the Wool Hall. In 1777, the necessary patent from the crown was obtained for the licensing of the premises, and the Wool Hall forthwith developed into aTheatre Royal. We will not stay to run over the numerous “stars” which have from time to time graced this theatrical firmament; it is enough to know that this “light of other days has faded” away, and that, so far as this building is concerned, theChester Theatre exists only as matter of history. In 1854–5, the Theatre was wholly obliterated, and the building in great part taken down; but the massive buttresses and sidelight arches of the original ecclesiastical structure were suffered to remain, and are yet plainly visible upon the north and south sides of the building. And now comes the last scene of the drama,—the scene we are now contemplating. On the ruins of the fallen Theatre, and on the foundation walls of the ancient Chapel of St. Nicholas, modern enterprise has raised a pile more in unison with its first estate, and far more worthy its close proximity to the Cathedral,—theNew Music Hall. The Hall has been erected from the designs of Mr. James Harrison, architect, whose other important works about the city we have already noticed. Its peculiar position, beset with heavy private buildings on three of its sides, prevented much attention being paid to the exterior; but the east front, being comparatively free, has afforded Mr. Harrison an opportunity for displaying his professional skill. Seen from the other end of St. Werburgh’s Place, the handsome Tudor windows and porch of this front have a rich and truly picturesque effect; our artist, however, has chosen a nearer view, in order to give strength and definition to his sketch. In addition to a refreshment room, ladies’ waiting and retiring rooms, and other offices, the interior presents to us a large and noble hall, 108 feet long, 40 feet wide, and 50 feet high, capable, with its two handsome galleries, of accommodating an audience of 1400 people. Its spacious orchestra, adorned with an organ of superior excellence, by Jackson, has ample room for 250 performers. The neatly panelled roof, resting upon shafted cross-beams tastefully ornamented, gives to theChester Music Halla richness and elegance wholly unapproached by any similar room in the city. The Hall is, in every respect, a credit alike to the architect and to the city; and it is not too much to add that Mr. J. D. Williams, the builder and decorator of the structure, has done his part of the work faithfully and well. One man only was killed during the progress of the works, by an accidental fall from the ceiling of the Hall. It was opened Nov. 26, 1855, with a grand concert, at which Clara Novello and others officiated.
Music Hall, and Consistory Court
And now for our long-deferred visit to the venerableCathedral. Turning aside from the Music Hall, we pass a small gate, and are at once in close communion with the south-west side of this massive structure. We can see from this point, distinctly enough, the ancient cruciform character of the edifice, that fittest symbolicalform of a Christian Church; the east end forming the choir and Lady Chapel,—the south transept the Parish Church of St. Oswald,—the north transept almost unappropriated,—and the west end the nave, into which latter we are now passing through a rich and handsome Tudor porch. And here let us observe that, as our knowledge of architectural detail is unhappily small, we must rely for our descriptions on the “dogmatic teaching” of other and abler heads. But first a word or two on the foundation and history of this fine oldCathedral.
Tradition avers that under the imperial dominion of pagan Rome, a temple, dedicated to Apollo, occupied the spot now consecrated to the Triune God; and that this temple had itself supplanted a still older fane of the superstitious Druids. However this may be, it is an historical fact, amply corroborated, that Wulpherus, King of the Mercians, who flourished aboutA.D.660, and Ermenilde, his queen, perceiving the attachment of their daughter, St. Werburgh, to a religious life, built an Abbey at Chester, for her and such other pious ladies who should, in like manner, prefer a conventual life. To St. Peter and St. Paul this Saxon Abbey was dedicated. St. Werburgh, being prioress or patron of three Abbeys—Chester, Trentham, and Hanbury—died and was buried in the latter edifice; but owing to the threatened incursions of the Danes, her sacred relics were thence removed, two hundred years afterwards, to Chester, for greater security, and lodged in the Abbey her royal father had founded in her honour. About 907, Ethelfleda, Countess of Mercia, erected on the same site a nobler Abbey, dedicated to her whose shrine then rested there—the immaculate St. Werburgh. Thus matters remained for nearly two centuries, when Earl Hugh Lupus, nephew and favourite of the Conqueror, having lived a life of debauchery and excess, compounded for his sins by the erection of an edifice larger and more splendid than the last, founding there a Monastery of St. Bennet’s order, under the superintendence of Anselm, then abbot of Bec, in Normandy, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury. A day or two before his death, Earl Hugh was shorn a monk of the Abbey his own remorseful bounty had founded. Immense possessions accrued to the Abbey, both from Hugh Lupus, the founder, and from his successors in the earldom. Early in the reign of Edward I., and in the abbacy of Simonde Albo Monasterio(Whitchurch), the rebuilding of the Abbey was commenced. It continued slowly to progress, under succeeding abbots, for about two hundred years, and until AbbotSimon Ripleyvirtually completed,in 1492, the erection of the Cathedral as we see it in the present day. Only fifty years afterwards, the foul blast of destruction fell like an avalanche upon the monastic institutions of Britain—Chester among the number. Bluff King Hal, that shameless polygamist, in a fit of pretended religious zeal, dissolved all these fraternities, and, pocketing the spoil, dealt out their lands to his creatures with right royal munificence. True, he left us theshell, in his new foundation of a Cathedral and Chapter; but he gulped up thekernelin the shape of the manorial possessions of the Abbey. John Bird was the first peculiar Bishop of Chester; and Thomas Clarke transposed himself from the last Romanist Abbot to the first Protestant Dean of Chester.
Entering theCathedralby the South Porch, we find ourselves in theNave, and close to a lofty chamber now used as the Consistory Court. Here are tried, before the chancellor of the diocese, the validity or otherwise of disputed wills, actions for slander, and other causes falling within the province of ecclesiastical law. Beyond, and to the left of this Court, near the baptismal font, is the great West Entrance of the Cathedral, built during the energetic rule of the Abbot Simon Ripley. It was the design of Ripley to erect two massive towers at this end of the Cathedral, and the foundations of these towers are still existing there; but owing to an unexpected “fall in the funds,” or to some other cause, the original intention was never carried out.
The West Entrance, as we now behold it, has a large and magnificent window of delicate tracery, recently filled with a series of designs in stained glass, illustrating the final sentence of the Apostles’ Creed, “The Resurrection of the Body, and the Life Everlasting.” In the centre of the main opening, we have the “Appearance of our Lord to St. Mary Magdalene in the Garden;” and beneath, “Our Lord’s Supper with the Disciples at Emmaus.” The three lights south of the centre illustrate the “Resurrection of our Lord,” above Whom are seen the Heavenly Host, while below are the affrighted soldiers, the angel at the tomb, with the apostles and holy women. In the three divisions on the north side is depicted “Our Lord in Judgment,” surrounded by the patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and saints: beneath is the Archangel Michael trampling upon Satan, with groups of “the Just” on their way up to Heaven, accompanied by guardian angels. The rich tracery overhead is filled with the “Genealogical Tree of our Lord,” commencing with the reclining figure of Jesse, and its branches spreading through more than one hundred openings, finishing with the birth, death, andglorification of Jesus Christ. This is a memorial window, erected by the widow of the Rev. P. W. Hamilton, of Hoole, near Chester, and cannot fail to be an object of surpassing interest to every visitor. It was designed and executed by Messrs. M. and A. O’Connor, of London.
West Entrance to the Cathedral
The door being open, let us step out to the open air, and refresh our eyes with a momentary glance at theWest Entrance of the Cathedral. This is, externally, the most beautiful remaining portion of this glorious edifice. Time has, of course, been at work here, as elsewhere, gnawing away at the old red sandstone;but there is still enough left to give us an idea of its ancient beauty.
Forms of saints are meekly kneelingThe Cathedral door above:
Forms of saints are meekly kneelingThe Cathedral door above:
the which door is a beautiful double Tudor arch of chaste design, supported on either side by four canopied niches, once ornamented with statuettes, but now fast going to decay. Over this is the great west window of eight lights, the whole flanked by two fine octagonal turrets with embattled parapets. Altogether, this front is a sight grateful to look upon, but one eminently suggestive of the ephemeral character of all things here below.
Returning to the Nave, we find at the head of the north aisle a flight of stairs leading up through the arched doorway into the Episcopal Palace; through this door the bishop ordinarily enters the Cathedral in his robes. The external wall of this aisle is one of the most ancient portions of the entire structure, being part of the Norman edifice of Hugh Lupus. It has two doors, one at each end, opening to the east and west walks of theCloisters, of which more anon. The windows of the Nave and of the clerestory above it, are all of the perpendicular character, and throw a flood of dim religious light into the interior. There is but one stained-glass window, andthatan obituary one, in the south aisle of the nave. Numerous monuments deck the walls, and disfigure the pillars of the nave, conspicuous among which are those to Dean Smith, translator of Longinus, Thucydides, and other classic authors; also memorials of the Mainwaring, Dod, Buchanan, Matthews, Ward, and Hilton families. One in the north aisle to the memory of Captain John Moore Napier, who died in India of Asiatic cholera, is worthy of special remark, from the spirited and touching epitaph, written by his uncle, that brave and gallant soldier, Sir Charles Napier, the veteran hero of Scinde. It runs thus:—
The tomb is no record of high lineage;His may be traced by his name.His race was one of soldiers;Among soldiers he lived, among them he died,A soldier falling where numbers fell with himIn a barbarous land.Yet there died none more generous,More daring, more gifted, more religious.On his early graveFell the tears of stern and hardy men,As his had fallen on the grave of others.
The tomb is no record of high lineage;His may be traced by his name.His race was one of soldiers;Among soldiers he lived, among them he died,A soldier falling where numbers fell with himIn a barbarous land.Yet there died none more generous,More daring, more gifted, more religious.On his early graveFell the tears of stern and hardy men,As his had fallen on the grave of others.
True poetry this, albeit expressed in modest prose! The Nave is 160 feet long, 74½ feet wide, and 78 feet high.
The following are the present dignitaries of the Cathedral:—
Bishop—The Right Rev. John Graham, D.D.Dean—The Very Reverend Frederick Anson, D.D.
ARCHDEACONS.
Ven. Isaac Wood, Middlewich.
Ven. John Jones, Liverpool.
CANONS.
Rev. James Slade, M.A.
Rev. Thomas Eaton, M.A.
Rev. George B. Blomfield, M.A.
Rev. Temple Hillyard, M.A.
HONORARY CANONS.
Rev. C. A. Thurlow, M.A.
Rev. Hugh Stowell, M.A.
Rev. Hugh McNeile, D.D.
Rev. William Cooke, M.A.
MINOR CANONS.
Rev. W. Harrison, M.A.
Rev. R. M. Smith, M.A.
Rev. E. F. Thurland, Precentor.
Rev. H. Venables, M.A.
Through an oaken door at the extremity of the north aisle, we pass into the north wing of the Transept,—like the Nave, not appropriated to any of the ordinary services of the church. The lower portion of its walls is indisputably Norman work, as is evidenced by the seven-arched triforium, which traverses midway its eastern side. A small doorway in the corner of this wall leads up, by a spiral staircase, to the triforium and great tower, as also to the clerestory gallery, which “threads its devious course” almost wholly round the sacred edifice. The archway under the great north window of the Transept conducts to the Chapter House and Cathedral Library. Two monuments in this wing deserve our notice,—one to the memory of Sir John Grey Egerton, Bart., sometime M.P. for Chester,—and the other to Colonel Roger Barnston, of Chester, erected by the subscriptions of his admiring friends and fellow-citizens. Immediately over the monument of Sir John Egerton is placed a piece of magnificent tapestry, copied from one of Raphael’s masterpieces, representing “Elymas the sorcerer struck with blindness before Sergius Paulus.” This is stated to have been brought over from a nunnery in France, and, until the recent alterations, usurped the place of the reredos at the back of the High Altar.
Thence returning to the Nave, we pass under the massive stone screen into theChoir, and are at once filled with admiration of its noble proportions, and of the taste and elegance which everywhere pervade it. The great features of the structure we have hitherto examined have been chiefly architectural, but here we are introduced to a scene in which all the resources of human art have beenbrought to bear by the creature man in honour of his Creator God. Look at this gorgeous canopy of ancient oak, adorning and supporting the fine organ overhead—at that magnificent range of Stalls, also of old oak, four-and-twenty on either side, crowned with canopies of the richest tracery, no one stall a copy of the other—at those pews of fairest form and choicest elaboration—at yon Shrine of St. Werburgh, now the Episcopal Throne—at the handsome stone pulpit—at the bold oak lectern, the eagle bearing upon his wings the glad tidings of salvation—at the graceful Altar-screen and Holy Table—and at the stained-glass enrichments of the two great east windows, through which gleams the morning sun,
DyedIn the soft chequerings of a sleepy light.—
DyedIn the soft chequerings of a sleepy light.—
As all these meet our wondering eyes, then do we awake to the consciousness that this is the Lord’s House, and, as it richly deserves to be, the Mother Church of the city and diocese. The seats of theStalls, ormisericordiæ, are worthy of our inspection, every one bearing some device different from its companions. TheThroneis composed, in great part, of the pedestal on which rested, in Romish days, the sacred relics of St. Werburgh,—those relics which, according to Father Bradshaw, performed such great and astounding miracles. The images surrounding it are supposed to be those of Mercian kings and saints, to which royal line St. Werburgh belonged. The Throne has been improved and raised some feet within the last fifteen years. The stonePulpitreplaced an older one of monarch oak, which has since been transformed into a long open seat for the Lady Chapel. The Communion Table and its appointments are all in good taste; and the elegant stoneReredos, which divides theAltarfrom the Lady Chapel, is of exceedingly chaste and appropriate character. The subjects in the east clerestory window represent “Our blessed Lord between the four Evangelists,” over whom are depicted five incidents in Christ’s career on earth,—the Agony in the Garden—Jesus bearing His Cross—the Crucifixion—the Resurrection—and the Ascension. The entire length of theChoiris 125 feet, breadth 74½ feet, and height 78 feet.
The north aisle of the Choir has one stained-glass obituary window, but no other object of interest, save a few old monuments, and a vestry for the Canons, the latter being a portion of the old Norman edifice. We pass hence to theLady Chapel, at the east end of the Choir, supposed by some to be the oldest portion of thepresent re-edified Cathedral. It is 65 feet long, 74½ feet wide, including the side aisles, and 33 feet high. The Chapel consisted originally of one central aisle only, the two side aisles having been added at a later period. At the east end stood the Shrine of St. Werburgh, until the Reformation saw it removed to the Choir, and converted thenceforward into the Bishop’s Throne. The east window of the Lady Chapel is embellished with stained glass of the richest description—the subjects being severally, the Annunciation, the Nativity, the Wise Men’s Offering, the Presentation in the Temple, Christ disputing with the Doctors, the Baptism of John, the Water turned into Wine, Healing the Lame, Walking on the Sea, Feeding the Multitude, the Transfiguration, the Raising of Lazarus, the Entry into Jerusalem, Washing the Disciples’ Feet, and the Last Supper,—the whole crowned with symbolical figures of the Twelve Apostles. In this Chapel George Marsh was condemned to be burnt for heresy in the days of Queen Mary.
The south aisle of the Choir and Lady Chapel has all its windows adorned with stained glass, the one at the east end being an obituary memorial for the late Hugh Robert Hughes, Esq., of the Bache, erected by his son, inheritor from his uncle, Lord Dinorben, of Kinmel Park, Flintshire. Obituary windows to the Humberston and Anson families, and two others piously erected by the present worthy Dean, complete the adornment of this aisle. Dean Anson has done more to beautify his Cathedral than all his predecessors put together! Under an indented arch in the east wall recline the dust and ashes of one of the abbots of St. Werburgh, the slab adorned with a crossfloree. In the centre of this aisle stands an altar-tomb, once built into the wall of the Sedilia. This tomb tradition assigns to Henry IV. of Germany; but it appears that monarch died and was buried in his own dominions: other and better authority surmises it to be the tomb of one of the later abbots.
From this aisle we pass into the south wing of the Transept, time out of mind appropriated to the parishChurch of St. Oswald. So early as the ninth century, a Church existed here, independent of the Abbey; but on the enlargement of the latter in the thirteenth century, St. Oswald’s became incorporated with the Abbey, as its southern transept. This was the Church, the functions of which were transferred by the monks to St. Nicholas Chapel, now theMusic Hall; but the parishioners could not forget their first love, and soon wormed their way back again toSt. Oswald’s. The Church contains some handsome monuments, worthy the attention of the visitor.
Crossing the nave, we see opposite to us a door, introducing us to theCloistersof this once powerful Abbey. The arch we are now passing under is a Norman specimen of exceeding purity; and disfigured as it has been by modernimprovements, yet affords a high degree of interest to the intelligent antiquary. TheCloistersonce formed a quadrangle of 110 feet square; but the south portion has almost entirely disappeared, the bases of some of the pillars alone remaining. The east walk has a doorway leading into theChapter House, through a vaulted Vestibule of great architectural beauty. These two apartments were the favourite places of sepulture of the puissant Norman earls, as well as of the earlier abbots of the Monastery. In the Chapter House, which is a noble building of the twelfth century, are deposited the Cathedral Library, as well as some vestiges of antiquity found within the Abbey and its precincts. Of these, a part of the stone coffin of Abbot Simon Ripley, and a Roman red sandstone inscription found near the present Deanery, are the most prominent and interesting. Over the door hang two bullet-tattered flags, once belonging to the 22nd (Cheshire) Regiment. A passage beyond the Chapter House leads, by the Maiden’s Walk, into the Abbey Court; and a doorway at the northwest corner to the Dormitory, now totally destroyed. A beautiful Norman chamber runs along the side of the western walk, and is variously designated the Promptuarium andAbbot’s Hall. This apartment, although an engraving of it appeared in Ormerod’s “History of Cheshire,” was but little known to Chester antiquaries until the year 1849, when this city was honoured with a visit from the British Archæological Association. A vast amount of rubbish, the accumulation of centuries, at that period blocked up the chamber; but the greater part of it was removed at the expense of the Association, and an able paper delivered on the subject, by Mr. Ashpitel, at their Chester Congress. That gentleman pronounced it to be thePromptuarium, orButteryof the Abbey; but a room, originally 105 feet long, seems of undue proportions for such a purpose. Mr. W. F. Ayrton, Secretary of the Chester Archæological Society, with greater apparent probability conceives it to be thesecunda aulaof the Monastery, such as we find described in the charter of Henry VIII. Here it was that audience was given to strangers and dependants, and where friends of the abbot were temporarily entertained during their visits to the Monastery.
The wall of the obliterated south walk, notwithstanding the cloister itself is ‘no more,’ is yet not without interest to the real lover of antiquity. Two rude arcades of late Norman work stretch along this wall, the arches of which mark the place of sepulture of four early abbots of the foundation. Some of the bases of the pillars once supporting the roof of the south walk are still visible on the Preese, or Cloister Green.
Returning to the north walk, we pass thence, under a richly ornamented arch, into another apartment on the right hand, now and for three centuries past occupied as theGrammar Schoolof the Cathedral. Few portions of the conventual buildings are so little known to visitors as the one we are now entering,—few will so amply repay their inspection as will this, the ancientRefectoryof this once famous Monastery. Time was,
And a gay time it was then, O!
And a gay time it was then, O!
when this noble apartment, theFrater Houseof the Abbey, re-echoed with the sounds of feast and revelry,—when the monks of St. Werburgh, and their privileged friends, discussed, in joyous mood, the good things of this life, dished up to them from the kitchens and buttery of the Abbey. Fancy how the tables groaned with the savoury venison and other titbits from the granges of the abbot,—with the products of their favourite kaleyards and fisheries,—and their wines and liquors brought from beyond sea,—and say, if you think these degenerate times can show aught to equal those palmy days! After all, though
Many have told of the monks of old,What a saintly race they were;Yet ’tis most true that a merrier crewCould scarce be found elsewhere.For they sang and laughed,And the rich wine quaffed,And lived on the daintiest fare.And the Abbot meek, with his form so sleek,Was the heartiest of them all,And would take his place, with a smiling face,When theRefectorybell would call;And they sang and laughed,And the rich wine quaffed,Till they shook the olden hall!
Many have told of the monks of old,What a saintly race they were;Yet ’tis most true that a merrier crewCould scarce be found elsewhere.For they sang and laughed,And the rich wine quaffed,And lived on the daintiest fare.
And the Abbot meek, with his form so sleek,Was the heartiest of them all,And would take his place, with a smiling face,When theRefectorybell would call;And they sang and laughed,And the rich wine quaffed,Till they shook the olden hall!
Say what you will of the austerities supposed to belong to the monastic life, those recluses of old lived a life as jolly, as careless,and as free, as the gayest of us in this 19th century! Yonder, at the head of that staircased recess in the south wall, is the ancient Oratory, from which one of the ‘knights of the cowl’ daily ‘said grace,’ and pronounced a classic oration, while his brethren were at meals in the spacious hall beneath him. Oh, what a sight for carnal eyes like his to dwell and gloat upon! But we must not soliloquise. The Fratry, or Refectory, in the days we are describing, was of nobler dimensions even than now; for it then extended some twenty or thirty feet farther westward, and was doubtless shorn of its fair proportions at the time the present road was constructed from the Abbey Square. This room, which is 98 feet long and 34 feet high, has a range of six pointed windows on the one side, and four on the other, and had once an eastern lancet-shaped window of considerable beauty. Of the window of the present day we forbear to speak; simply let us hope that the hour is at hand, when so hideous an abortion of all that is “chaste and beautiful in art” shall vanish from the scene, and be replaced by a window worthy of the apartment it was meant to adorn! The steps leading up to the Oratory communicated originally with theDormitoryof the Abbey, which prior to the present century occupied the higher range of the eastern cloister, but has now entirely disappeared.
At the Reformation, when King Henry VIII. transformed the Abbey into a Cathedral, he founded here, in the thirty-sixth year of his reign, aGrammar Schoolfor twenty-four boys, and endowed it with a Head Master, and numerous privileges, some of which it wasourlot, twenty years ago, personally to share. The history of the School, and of the many Cheshire worthies educated within its walls, would furnish matter for a distinct treatise, and it is not improbable that such may one day appear from our humble pen. For the present, then, we will retire from this scene of our boyhood’s delight, and ascending the range of steps near the entrance door, emerge from the “bosom of our spiritual mother” at a point very close to the head of Abbey Street.