pilgrimage to Rome.

Perhaps this was because there was constant fighting going on all these years between the people of Mercia and the Welsh; and Hereford, being just on the border of the two Kingdoms, was so constantly exposed to the danger of being raided, or looted, or burned down, that no one had any time to think about anything else.

But at last there came a period of peace, and the Bishop of Hereford who was living then, whose name was Æthelstan, determined that he would restore the Cathedral, which had got sadly knocked about in these border quarrels. When he had done so, he took King Ethelbert’s bones from their humble resting-place, and had them brought into his newly restored church and placed in a gorgeous shrine which he had prepared for their reception.

A great misfortune fell upon this good Bishop, for, for the last thirteen years of his life, he was blind, and I have no doubt that, during all the long period when he could not see, it must have been a great joy to him to think, as he was led out and in to Service, that he had been allowed, before the darkness fell on him, to repair the House of God, and to provide a fitting tomb for the royal youth in whose memory it had been erected.

Alas! he little knew what a few short years were to bring; and we almost wish that the poor old man had died before his life-work was all undone.

For in 1056 a quarrel took place between Elfgar, Earl of Chester, and Edward the Confessor, who was King of England at that time. I do not know what the quarrel was about, but at any rate Elfgar was summoned to appear before the ‘Witan,’ or Parliament in London, on a charge of high treason.

His guilt was not proved, but the King was so angry with him that he made him an outlaw, which was, of course, very unjust.

Elfgar, as was to be expected in these old warlike days, determined to have his revenge, so he went and hired the services of a band of Danish pirates who chanced to be cruising about in their ships round the coast of Ireland. Then he went to Gruffydd, King of North Wales, who was his friend and neighbour, and asked him if he would help him also. Gruffydd agreed readily, for he hated the English, and soon a fleet of Danish ships came sailing up the Severn, full of fierce pirates and wild Welshmen, all of whom were sworn to obey Elfgar and Gruffydd.

They came to the West Country because they knew there were a great many rich churches there that they could plunder, and as soon as the river became too shallow for their ships, they disembarked, and marched in the direction of Hereford.

Now, as perhaps you know, Edward the Confessor was very fond of the Normans, and he had made one of his favourites, a Norman noble named Ralph, Earl of Hereford. This Ralph was a brave man, and quite ready to lead the citizens and the people of the neighbourhood out against the lawless invaders, but he made one great mistake.

It was the custom, in his own land, for all the gentlemen to fight on horseback, instead of on foot, as was the way of the Anglo-Saxons, and he insisted on his followers following the foreign fashion, setting the example himself, with the result that everyone felt awkward and embarrassed, and very soon it became evident that Elfgar and his friends were going to have the best of it.

Seeing this, Earl Ralph lost his head, and ran away, and perhaps we cannot wonder that the simple country folk followed his example, although, alas! one or two hundred of them were overtaken and killed before they had gone very far.

Then the victorious hoard of savages, for they were little else, swept on, straight to the Cathedral, where they knew that the holy vessels, at least, and the ornaments on the altar, would be of gold or silver.

But if they thought that they could obtain these easily they were mistaken, for they had not reckoned on the kind of men with whom they had to deal. For the brave priests determined to defend their church to the last, and shut and barricaded the doors in their faces; and, although at last they were overcome and the church looted, it was not until seven of their number lay dead in the great Western doorway.

A scene of wild confusion followed, and when the wild invaders marched away again there was nothing left of the little city or of the great church which Æthelstan had restored with so much labour and pride but a few smouldering ruins.

Among other things, King Ethelbert’s shrine was destroyed, and, although we hope that his bones were taken care of, and buried somewhere in the church, or else burned up altogether, we cannot tell for certain what became of them.

Now, if there is one thing which we admire more than another about the grand old builders of the Middle Ages, it is their perseverance.

They would spend a hundred years over the planning and building of a church, when one man died another taking his place; and when—as happened here, and many times elsewhere—the church was destroyed, either by accident or design, they lost no time in useless lamentations, but just patiently began to build it up again, trusting that in the future a time would come when their work would be prized and taken care of, as it deserved to be.

So we find that in a very few years the work was begun once more from the beginning, this time by a Norman Bishop, named Robert de Losinga; and we are glad to know that his work remains, for if we go into the Cathedral we can see part of it still standing, for it was under his directions that parts of the choir and of the south transept were built.

Photochrom Co., Ltd.

HEREFORD CATHEDRAL: SCREEN.

That was more than eight hundred years ago.

Then followed the building of the nave, the Lady-chapel, the north transept, and the tower, until, some four hundred years after Bishop Losinga had begun it, the great church was completed, and stood much as it stands to-day, except that a wooden spire surmounted the square tower of stone.

This spire was taken down in 1790.

Now that we have learned all about its history, let us enter the Cathedral and look what it is like inside.

As you see, it is built of red stone, in the form of a cross, the choir being separated from the nave by a curious screen, which is made of four metals—iron, copper, brass, and bronze.

The nave is very grand and stately, with rows of massive Norman pillars and beautifully carved arches.

Although St. Ethelbert’s shrine no longer exists, if we go into the choir we can see the place where it stood—here, in this arch, between the two pillars nearest the altar on our right-hand side as we face it. A statue of the murdered King has been placed, as you see, on a pedestal, close to one of the pillars, and here, on the floor, in front of the altar, is a circular slab of marble, on which is traced a representation of his murder.

But if we cannot visit St. Ethelbert’s shrine, we can visit another, which is six hundred years old, and which was erected to hold the bones of a very celebrated Bishop of Hereford, who was such a good man, that, after his death, people thought he deserved the name of Saint;—Thomas de Cantilupe.

It stands in the north transept, and is just a great marble chest, with what looks like another ‘openwork’ chest, also of marble, above it.

Round the sides of the lower chest a great many figures are carved, and if we look at them closely we shall see that they are figures of Knights Templars, with their cloaks and crosses, for Bishop de Cantilupe was Grand Master of that Order.

Perhaps he obtained this office because he was very fond of soldiers, and when he was a little boy he wanted to become one.

This was a very natural wish, for he was the son of a powerful Baron, who had an estate and ‘manor’ in