Bells Cathedrals: The Cathedral Church of Norwich | Page 6

interval had gathered strength wonderfully; chapels dedicated to her naturally became important, and Bishop Suffield determined to pull down the old Norman work and rebuild a chapel in the Early English style then prevalent. Dean Goulburn, in his work on the cathedral, estimated the size of the later chapel at 90 feet long by 30 feet wide, and these dimensions are shown plotted in dotted lines on the plan in this book. This is longer and narrower than the size given in previous conjectures, but Dean Goulburn had the opportunity of inspecting the foundations of the chapel, which, with those of the still earlier one, lie buried but a few feet below the surface in a garden to the east of the cathedral. In the same place, and over the entrance arches remaining, the height and lines of the later roof can be seen still plainly marked on the stonework. These entrance arches are beautifully moulded and decorated on the inside with the "dog-tooth" ornament--a decoration peculiar to the Early English style.
The theological reaction which followed close on this movement led to the neglect of the chapel, and obviated the necessity of maintaining it as a place of worship. It had probably greatly decayed; that Dean Gardiner (1573-89), no longer needing it for services, was tempted to pull it down, as a cheaper expedient than keeping it in repair.
In 1271 Norwich was visited by a terrific thunderstorm, when the tower was struck by lightning. The damage, however, was not great, as, fortunately, the excessive rains which followed quenched the fire that had been kindled. This incident, however, was the precursor of one of the stormiest periods in the history of the city and its cathedral church. Roger de Skerning occupied the episcopal chair, and the prior was one William de Brunham, a man of fierce and truculent disposition. An outbreak of hostilities between the citizens on the one hand and the monks on the other, was brought about by his arbitrary assumption of power; the bishop throughout, ostensibly preferring the safer game of a somewhat anomalous position of neutrality, is nevertheless believed to have covertly sanctioned his proceedings.
A fair was held in Tombland--to the west of the precincts--annually on Trinity Sunday, and by right of ancient custom the priors reaped large revenues by the imposition of tolls on the sales. Tombland, derived from Tomeland, a vacant space, had originally formed part of the estate bequeathed by Herbert, the founder, to the monks; the boundaries in course of time had become matters of controversy, and it is probable that the citizens felt the imposition of these tolls and dues to be a real and serious grievance. A riot broke out and the monks were driven within their gates. Had the prior at this juncture chosen to act peacefully, it is probable that history would contain no record of the sacrilege that followed. He, however, decided to resist force by force, and carefully generaled his monks, disposing them at the various strategic points of his domain. At the same time he sent to Yarmouth for mercenaries--these arrived and the tables were turned; the prior's forces sallied forth from the gates and robbed and pillaged the town.
The citizens, roused to a pitch of madness, drove them and the soldiers back again within the walls of the monastery; the bishop, instead of acting as peacemaker, appears to have preserved his position of neutrality and quietly stopped in his palace. There was a short interval of truce, but it only served as a breath to fan the flames; the citizens besieged the cathedral precincts, and by the means probably of slings succeeded in hurling combustible materials into the buildings, with a result that the whole of the monastery and the cathedral itself was soon in flames. It seems to be an established fact that the prior had placed men in the tower to shoot at the citizens, and it is conjectured that they, and not the citizens, were the cause of the outbreak here.
The only part of the cathedral that escaped was the Lady Chapel; the rest was gutted, vestments and ornaments were carried off, and the monks for the most part slain.
So ended the first part of this lamentable chapter in the history of Norwich. A sentence of excommunication was passed on the city, and King Henry hastened to Norwich to preside at the trial of the prisoners.
The accounts which have come down to us are as varied as might be expected, the chroniclers of the one party, of course, blaming the other side; it seems, however, to have been proved "that, after all, the church was burnt by that accursed prior"; but many of the citizens were hung, drawn and quartered, and the city had to pay in all 3000 marks towards repairing