Beautiful Britain | Page 9

the vast crowds reach Canterbury, for there was scarcely a road that at some period of the year did not send its contribution to the throng which jostled through the gates into the narrow streets leading to the monastery gateway. Year after year wealth poured into the Cathedral coffers, and pilgrims went away lighter in spirits and in purse, but each carrying with them the little leaden bottle in which the infinitely diluted blood of the martyr mixed with water was distributed.
Scarcely two months after Henry's penance the splendid choir of the Cathedral caught fire, and the townsfolk, in a state between grief and rage, found themselves unable to stay the progress of the flames until nearly everything that could burn had vanished. The nave suffered less than Conrad's splendid choir, and in that less ruined portion of the building a temporary altar was erected. But for this fire it might have been possible for the modern pilgrim to see the building as it appeared during the stirring events just recounted; for, notwithstanding the wealth of the monastery of Christ Church, it would have probably been thought desirable to retain the fabric as much as possible as it appeared in Becket's time. The fire came, however, and the choir was to a great extent rebuilt, but fortunately the chapels were only slightly affected.
After careful inquiry the monastery decided to employ William of Sens as architect for the reconstruction, and the excellent work of this clever Norman craftsman lives to-day in the eastern portion of the cathedral church. He set to work soon after the fire; but, after four years of labour, was so much injured by a fall from the scaffolding that he was obliged to abandon his unfinished work and return to his native Normandy. Upon an Englishman named William devolved the task of completing the work.
Either following the Frenchman's plans or adapting them to his own ideas, he finished the eastern parts of the church as they stand to-day in the year 1184. To one or both of these architects is due the unusual device of narrowing the choir to avoid altering the site of the Trinity Chapel of Becket's time. When the reconstruction of Conrad's Norman choir began, the Gothic style was just beginning to appear--an incipient tendency towards a pointed arch here and there which grew into what is called the Transitional Period; and to this style--in between the Romanesque semicircular arch, with its accompanying massiveness, and the first style of Gothic known as Early English, distinguished by the pointed arch, detached pillars decorating the triforium and clerestory, and elaborate mouldings and capitals--the choir belongs.
When the whole of the east end of the cathedral was finished, nearly two centuries elapsed before any further change took place beyond the beginning of the chapter-house. At the commencement of that period, however, one of Canterbury's most magnificent scenes of ecclesiastical pomp occurred in connection with the remains of Becket. The summer of 1220 saw the completion of the new shrine, and on July 7, the translation of the saint's remains was accomplished amid scenes of the most astonishing splendour, described by those who were present as being without a parallel in the history of England, the crowds including people from many foreign countries. Money was spent so lavishly on the entertainment of the innumerable persons of distinction who were present or took part in the great ceremony that for several years the finances of the see were unpleasantly reminiscent of the vast expenditure. Henry III. was present, but he was not old enough to be a bearer of the great iron-bound chest containing the poor remnants of Becket's human guise. In the presence of nearly every ecclesiastical dignitary in the land the remains were placed in the newly finished shrine all aglow with jewels set in gold and silver.
Throughout the centuries succeeding this crowning glory of Canterbury, the little walled city saw many great functions apart from the yearly stream of pilgrims of every grade of society, and the huge doles of food and drink given away by the two great monasteries and the lesser houses of the city must have brought together an unwholesome concourse of the needy.
Every fifty years after the translation of Becket's remains to the great shrine there was a special festival on July 7, when the people of the archiepiscopal city would find their resources strained to the very uttermost in feeding and housing the great assemblage. The martyrdom took place on December 29, but owing to the time of the year this festival did not draw so many as the summer one. All through the year the pilgrims came and went, and instead of falling off in numbers as the martyrdom receded, the popularity of the saint did not reach its zenith until