The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1892-09-25

sprlngtlme pll2rimages, when
from every schires ende
81 Engelond. to Canterbury they wende
The holy bllStul martir for to seeke,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were
sseke.
We all remember his knight, prioress,
yeoman, friar, monk, merchant, sergeant
or law, clerk, haberdasher, carpenter
weaver, oyer, shipmaster. miller, reeve,
doctor, cook, goodwife of Bath and what
not OF all llk; and they form goodly though
Wralthtul company in which to sauuter
about ancient southwark, or mingle among
al the vlllagerul. countryside, way over
hill and through valley to historic Canter-
bury town.
ms olden pilgrims way undoubtedly
brings you with the most pleasant impress
slons 10 your first view of Canterbury its
Cathedral and the rich pastoral country
roundabout. At the outskirts OF Harble-
down, the last hating place, perhaps two
miles southwest of the cathedral, you are
hIEh above the city and the broad, blossom
ing valley of the Stour. The roadway here
runs to the northeast Tor "A mile, past the
ruins OF St Nicholas hospital, where the
pilgrims tarTied for rest and we're met bv
the olden monks who first liEhtened their
purses and sprinklei them with holy water.
reached
No city in England abounds in 80 large
q number Of almost unaltered churches of
the greatest antiquity as Canterbury. ST.
Dunstans chapel was q vestry room GU9
years ago. In the family vault OF the R3-
pers in this church still lies the head If Sir
Thomas More. From this venerable church.
Famous Tor its patron saint, Its great an
tiqulty and its chimes, the way, now a Cam
ter0ury street, intarsects the ancient city
from west to east, crossing the two arms OF
the river Stour, which make an island OF
the western precincts of the town, and
passes straight on to Dover-the verltable
street and way built by the legions Of Julius
Cesar.
Before You descs1d the hill at the east of
harbledoTn YOI cannot but long aud
earnestly study the interesting scene be-
low. The valley of the StOur reaches far
to the north and south, an almost limit
less lawn, broken only by blossoming
hedge, the CLASSY threadings Of the river,
half bid hsmletS and the city's central
mass of gray and red and green. Mossv
st. Dunstan's is here to your left. At the
northeastern edge of the city that huge
mass Of walls and towers is what is left of
the once world famous st. Augustines
monastery. Nearer to where you stand is
Dane John hill and ohelisS. Between this
and St Dunstan's that broken line Of gray
marks Inc ancient city walls. Some of this
masonry is more than 1, 100 years old Five
or six Of the turrets Of these ancient walls
still show like castle towers among the
bright red city roofs.
Spires and round and square towers here
and there push above the foliage of the
huge old city tees. To the north, along
the winding Stour. are the barracks of the
soldiery; for Canterbury 10 still a military
station, as In ancient Roman and Saxon
times. Along the horizon edge toward
hsmsRate and Dover, huge wind mills. ike
those of Holland, flap their winglike arms
with sudden energy, or high and still upon
some rounded down, stand like ghostlv
silhouettes between green of earth and blue
Of sky.
But all sights and seemings bring back
the eye to the one mass of white. to which
the city towers, roofs and foliage aud all
the valleys, fields aud hamlets are as
wide EtruscRn base. 1t scars from but.
tresses TO towers, from towers to spires and
from spires to pinnaoles, aescY aud glitter
ing In its wondrous dImen9ions and hight,
majestic, spotless, faultless, and as fauci-
fully light and delicate as q vast and
shapely craK of coral from which the sea
mas disappeared and left it among the dal-
lying clouds.
From st. Dunstan's church you pass
through historic old Westgate, which has
stood there 1000 years. 10 Is now a jail.
Underneath 1t flows the Stour. To the right
and left strange old structures oyerhaug the
str am and recall some of the Quie,sr sea
lanes Of Venice From We5tgate to the
eastern arm OF the Stour the thorough'are
is called st. Peters. Then, in the deAssst
part OF the city, the day is given the inc
vlta6le name Of High street, which you will
find in nearly every cathedral town of
England. Here are scores of the ancient
houses like those of Chester, Gloucester and
Exeter. Over them all seems to brood q
mournful air of departed glory.
AS you arrive opposite curious and von-
cradle st. Mary Bredman's church glimpse
is caught, to the wet and north, Of the
quaintest lane in all Canterbury. This is
MerceTy lane. In the olden days each trade
or class of merchants WAS given a separate
thoroughfare. The MERGERS or haberdash-
ers occupied Mercery laue. II is now filled
with all manner of little shops, where mer-
chants instead of monks set up the modern
pilgrim. Overhead che houses pro-
truds, story after story. until
the gables are within whispering
proximity. 1t is a pleasant place in which
TO loiter. this Mercery lane, and when You
have come 10 its northern end you sudde lily
face the great cathedral, and are given an
oblique view Of its southern walls, trausep,s
and its southerumost angle Of its far eastern
apse, while the top OF the great central
tower looms vast aud white and high above
and beyond the companion tower at either
side Of the vast west window.
While no one can deny the grandeur Of
the proportions and richness in "details Of
this splendid cathedral of Canterbury, the
feeling is irresistible that there is too little
room without and too much within.
mean by this that tue effect of 80 vast a
structure being closely crowded by masses
of inferior buildings, precisely az with the
cathedral Of Cologne is dwarfng and in
significant. The interior lacks warmth,
aud there is no doubt that unnecessary vast
ness in a sacred edifce lessons the desirable
effect Of repose.
or the student in ecclesiastic history
and architecture there is nowhere else in
England a so grand and comprehensive
study. The cathedral certainly embraces
every variety OF the styles OF English
ecclesiastic architecture from the rudest
Saxon TO the most finished Gothic art.
1t contains greater number, more fam
GUS and richer tombs, shrines and eff
gies than any other cathedral church Of
Britain. Since its erection, out Of Csnter-
bury's ninety archbishops eighteen have
been canonized, nine dlgnitaries have been
appointed cardinals and twelve have been
made lord chancellors. In its history con-
sruction aud all details OF cathedral en-
riohment it lacks no element of grandeur
and Ceep impr essiveness.
But to Toe there is an emptiness, a glaring
wilderness. a desolatiou, indeed a deserta-
ton, If that word may be used. about this