Speculative reflections of a retiring Dean
/Edward Shotter, Dean of Rochester 1989-2003, shares some reflections on the history and fabric of the Cathedral. Featured in The Friends of Rochester Cathedral Annual Report for 2002-2003.
I should like to share with you some thoughts about the cathedral, which might best be described as: Some Speculative Reflections of a Retiring Dean.
In a recent 'Times' obituary, there was a description of how a well-known artist took a stanley knife to cut into strips and totally destroy a picture which did not reach the high standards to which he aspired.
We are all called to offer our best to God. This cathedral, as is every church, is a result of many such offerings, whether it be King Ethelbert, in 604, giving the land on which the Anglo-Saxon church was built, or Bishop Gundulf initiating the design and the building of the nave and west front, or William of Hoo who was prior at the time of the building of the eastern arm of the cathedral; a building programme which was funded by the offerings of pilgrims at the Shrine of St William of Perth. Just think of the craftsmanship involved in this third phase: architecture and engineering had moved on from the Romanesque semi-circular arch (visible in the great strength of Gundulf's nave) to the pointed arch of the thirteenth century. Now it was possible to roof the presbytery, eastern transepts and quire in stone. The strength and bulk of the Norman arches was superseded by the slender and elegant design of the Early English vaulting. The transition from the Norman round arch to the Gothic pointed arch was not simply a matter of aesthetics (but clearly aesthetics comes into it), but was also the result of a great advance in building technology.
The stonemason's tools, too, must have improved: witness the refined detail of carved stone in the quire as compared to the nave. Purbeck marble is polished, with decorative effect, notably in the thinnest of shafts that enhance the columns supporting the vaulting of the eastern end of the cathedral. But note, also, a decorative detail which is rarely used in the Norman work: the carved heads which preserve for ever a host of faces, presumably of those involved in this great endeavour of creating a building, fit not for a king, but for God.
We have no records about the personalities of those who raised this temple, but their faces invite speculation. Somewhere amongst these figures is the master mason, the man who approved the workmanship of a whole workforce and ensured, as best he could, that the different stonemasons, emploved on adjacent columns (and accounting for those fascinating variations which cause us to comment) did not depart too radically from the overall design. Doubtless, some were apprentices whose skills might not always match their enthusiasm.
There is, in the quire, visible from the Dean's stall, the cowled head of a Benedictine monk. turned towards the high altar, as would happen at the elevation of the host by the celebrant at a capitular Eucharist. Who he is, we cannot say but, somewhere, it is almost certain, there should be recorded in stone, the features of the monk who presided over this great work. Over the vears that I have taken my place in the Dean's stall in quire, I have wondered about this former member of our Chapter. Does the carving record the fine-drawn features of William of Hoo, who became prior 750 years before | became Dean?
As you walk up the Kent steps, at the top of the south quire aisle and enter the quire transept, to your right is the head of a woman, almost certainly a nun, and thus possibly a member of our sister foundation, also founded by Gundulf, the Benedictine community at St Mary's Abbey, West Malling. Perhaps she is a precursor to our present-day School of Embroidery; a cathedral is always in need of talented and dedicated embroiderers and needlewomen. We still rely on the nuns to look after our sacristy linen. Perhaps it was ever thus, Her habit is distinctive and not at all what we should expect in the west, but it is identical with the religious habit worn in Eastern Europe.
But to revert to the architecture. If the discovery of the pointed arch allowed for greater elegance, at the expense of the sheer bulk of Romanesque design, there is evidence that our thirteenth century craftsmen were pushing at the frontiers of design and technology. There is clear evidence that the Gothic cathedral was built from the east towards the west. That makes some sense, since the high altar could be used as soon as the presbytery had been vaulted and they could remove the scaffolding and (more importantly) the wooden framework that supported each arch and vault, until the keystone was in place, Working westwards, the completion of the quire would have enabled the community to celebrate the Opus Dei, or work of God, the daily singing of the Divine Office of psalms, readings, Benedictus, Magnificat and Nune Dimittis, according to the Rule of St Benedict, in the same place where Mattins and Evensong are still said or sung daily 'in quires and places where they sing' where, as the Prayer Book enjoins, 'here followeth the Anthem'.
The music of the liturgy, then as now, calls for excellence of composition and excellence of execution. The tradition of choral singing, certainly of Gregorian chant, must go right back to the foundation of the cathedral in 604, The singing 'daily throughout the year' of the services contained in the Book of Common Prayer, requires the commitment not only of the community, but also of the individual singers, and, in the case of choristers, the support of their parents.
In the sixteenth century, following the dissolution of the priory in 1541, the last prior, Walter Phillips, became the first dean and, as happened elsewhere, there is every suggestion that the members of the pre-Reformation and immediate post- Reformation community were one and the same. There is documentary evidence at Carlisle, for example, showing that the whole Cistercian community became members of the New Foundation. Here at Rochester we have only hints, but if the head gardener were a member of the Foundation and Walter Phillips continued as head of the Chapter, as dean not prior, the canons, minor canons, lay clerks, vergers, choristers and scholars represented a continuing community still dedicated to the support of the church's mission in this place.
Having completed the quire and the eastern arm of the cathedral, the Chapter was now faced with the central tower. It seems likely that, having kept the Romanesque and solid walls of the quire (which give Rochester one of the most enclosed cathedral quires in Europe), building above them the elegant and lightweight clerestorey which we see today, they embarked upon the next phase. However, building the tower meant dismantling the adjacent Norman arcade of the nave. And here there are signs that something went wrong. The evidence for movement, for a structure not strong enough to take the weight of the central tower, is there for all to see. Rebuilding stopped. The easternmost Norman arch of the northern arcade appears to have been reconstructed.
If only we had the Chapter Act Book for this moment. There is evidence, in stone, of panic. For a vast reinforcing buttress, within the new Gothic arches was thrown up. Those members of Chapter who had always argued that the newfangled lightweight building design, involving huge windows, was too risky, must have thought themselves proved right. The only thing to do was to abandon the re-building and insert massive, Norman-like, masonry to stabilise the tower before it collapsed, with how many deaths and injuries, no-one could tell.
If you examine this vast mound of masonry, there is every sign of speed: for throughout there are random stones containing carved strapwork, inserted everywhere and anywhere they would fit, regardless of their design.
So the Tower was saved. But, more importantly for the historic integrity of the cathedral, so was the Romanesque nave, reminiscent of the nave at Bec where Gundulf had been professed as a monk.
The crisis had passed, but so had the passion for rebuilding. We are bound to wonder: were there any red faces? There is one face, just over from the Tower, moon-faced, with a sheepish grin: is this the fellow who was to blame? We shall never know.
But the weight of masonry obviously continued to exercise the Chapter and its builders, for when the time came to complete the vaulted roof of the south nave transept, stonework was abandoned, and a lightweight timber structure used, simulating in every detail the vaulting in stone of the north nave transept opposite. It must have been in all details like a wooden model that would have been produced for the stone mason to copy: only now the carpenter has been called in to finish the job.
Wood and stone were not the only materials used in building and adorning a great cathedral. In the south nave transept, there remains evidence of wall painting. Above the arch over the original site of the Lady Chapel altar, the east wall is painted overall: the remains are tantalisingly faint: but with evidence from elsewhere in the cathedral, and from other churches right across Europe, it is clear that Rochester Cathedral was once a blaze of colour.
Just as the Victorians would not have understood our fashion for stripped pine, so no-one, until the Puritans, would have seen beauty in unpainted stone.
Marble could be polished, but the rest had been painted.
In other countries, in Eastern Europe for instance, where the art of fresco was not lost but has continued down the centuries, it is commonplace to repaint a damaged mural, as I have often witnessed.
Here, the rules of conservation have inhibited such a radical solution. In any event a passion for stained glass, especially here in Rochester, by our Victorian forebears led to the reintroduction of colour, and a rediscovery of the saints and heroes of the faith following the Catholic revival of the nineteenth century.
Benefactions appeared, and with Reynolds Hole, who was not only Dean of Rochester, but also Grand Chaplain, windows were commissioned and funded by the Freemasons of Kent as the windows of the eastern range of the south nave transept testify. And Dean Hole himself is commemorated in a magnificent memorial tomb - the only remaining free-standing memorial in the nave.
If operative masons are to be credited with the execution of the vast concept that is a cathedral church, then speculative freemasons have continued to care for and support the cathedrals of England to this day.
Following the vandalism which was inflicted on the cathedral by post-Reformation zealots and the iconoclasm of the Puritans, beautifying the cathedral was not just a fashionable Victorian activity. The Restoration of the monarchy, 'no bishop, no king', led to the restoration of the hierarchy and that meant, in Rochester, the return of Bishop John Warner, who had been deprived of the See during the commonwealth. When he died in 1666 there was erected a baroque tomb in the form of a chantry altar, one of the gems of Rochester. This was doubly significant, because Warner was the last bishop to be buried in his cathedral and the form of his memorial is a reflection of Restoration theology, in particular, prayer for the faithful departed. Together with two other Warner memorials, the oratory is unique in its concentration of Baroque decoration in the cathedral. It is, therefore, a fitting location for the Baroque crucifix given to the cathedral by the Surveyor to the Fabric, Martin Caroe, shortly before his death in 1999 and said to have been found on the battlefield at Salamanca. It is also adjacent to the supposed site of the tomb of St William of Perth, pilgrims to whose shrine funded the rebuilding of the eastern arm of the cathedral and where todays pilgrims light votive candles, The urge to beautify the cathedral as an aid to worship and personal devotion is as present today as in the past.
When I see the plaque in the pavement commemorating St William's Gate, and walk up the Pilgrim Passage from the High Street to the Cathedral and enter by the north door and climb the Pilgrim steps, I often wonder whether we should not be a little less reticent about Rochester's martyrs and heroes of the Faith. It would be a simple step to mark the site of St William's Shrine: it would certainly provide a focus for those who visit the cathedral, both as pilgrims and tourists. We seek to respond to our visitors with a shop selling commemorative artefacts and a refectory to refresh their bodies. Do we do enough to refresh their souls? Could a modern Shrine be a focus, turning visitors into pilgrims? I wonder.
Once the baptistery is completed, the fresco finished and the font in place, we shall have a major focus, as well as a major work of art. And once again we should praise God for the talents of the artist, Sergei Fodorov and the generosity of our benefactors the Freemasons of Kent.
Without doubt, the very existence of a major fresco, the first such painting in an English Cathedral for 800 years, depicting the baptism of Our Lord and the baptism of Kent, (King Ethelbert and many Anglo-Saxons being baptised in
604), will emphasise the significance of baptism - not as a naming ceremony for an infant - but as "an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace", the means whereby we become members of the Body of Christ, the Church
Baptism is the ecumenical sacrament, in that it is recognised by all the churches and admits us all into the one, holy catholic and apostolic church - Anglican, Orthodox, Protestant or Roman Catholic.
By marking the beginning of the third Christian Millennium by the painting of this baptistry fresco, we are acting out of prayer of Our Lord "that they may all be one" and preparing for the day when all Christians in West Kent can look upon this cathedral as their spiritual home and mother Church as it was at its foundation. The commissioning of this great work of art is, in itself, an act of faith.
Edward Shotter, Dean
An address given at Evensong attended by the Masonic Province of West Kent 11th May, 2003, the Third Sunday after Easter.
The Friends of Rochester Cathedral were founded to help finance the maintenance of the fabric and grounds. The Friends’ annual reports have become a trove of articles on the fabric and history of the cathedral.
Canons, colleagues, volunteers and staff have shared their memories and reflections in many forms over the years.
