William Somner the Antiquities of Canterbury London 1640
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
William Somner The antiquities of Canterbury London 1640 <i> <sig *> THE ANTIQUITIES OF CANTERBVRY. OR A SVRVEY OF THAT ANCIENT CITIE, WITH THE SVBVRBS, AND CATHEDRALL. Containing principally matters of Antiquity in them all. Collected chiefly from old Manuscripts, Lieger-bookes, and other like Records, for the most part, never as yet Printed. With an Appendix here annexed: Wherein (for better satisfaction to the learned) the Manuscripts, and Records of chiefest consequence, are faithfully exhibited. All (for the honour of that ancient Metropolis, and his good affection to Antiquities) Sought out and Published By the Industry, and Goodwill of WILLIAM SOMNER. Cic. in Oratore. Nescire quid antea quam natus sis acciderit, est semper esse puerum. London, Printed by I. L. for Richard Thrale, and are to be sold at his Shop at Pauls-Gate at the signe of the Crosse-Keyes. 1640. <ii> <archbishop Laud’s coat of arms> <iii> TO THE MOST REVE= REND FATHER IN GOD, WILLIAM, BY THE DIVINE PROVIDENCE, LORD ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBVRY, PRIMATE OF ALL England and Metropolitan, one of the LL. of his Majesties most Honourable Privy Councell, and Chancellor of the Vniversity of OXFORD. May it please Your Grace. As without the concurrence of divers good reasons to induce me, I had not pre= sumed to present unto Your Grace the following Discourse: So I conceive it very fitting, and my bounden duty, to give Your Grace, and the world, an Accompt in <iv> briefe, of the inducements whereby I have been animated to appeare in this kinde before Your Grace. The chiefe whereof hath been, and is, Your Graces interest both in the Author, and in the Worke. In the Author, as subsisting in his place and profession, under God, chiefly by your Graces favour and Goodnesse. In the Worke, in a double respect: the one, as it is a Discourse of Antiquities; Your Graces extraordinary care and cost for the Collection where= of, of all sorts, from all parts, Crow= ned by Your singular Piety and Noble= nesse in disposing them to the good and service of the publike; as they are thankfully acknowledged and wor= thily celebrated by all the Lovers of Antiquities; so doe they give Your Grace an especiall interest to all their Labours who are that way inclined. The other; as it handleth more espe= cially the Antiquities of two such Parti= culars as are of very neere relation to <v> Your Grace, the Church, and City of Can= terbury. These reasons (may it please Your Grace) not to trouble You with more, in all Humility I hope, may prevaile with Your Grace for Your pa= tience and pardon of this presumption: and though not procure Your Graces acceptance and protection of the Worke, yet Your excuse of the Authors bold= nesse, who most humbly craves it at Your Gracious Hands: and with his hearty Prayers, both for the long con= tinuance of Your Graces Health and Happinesse here, to Gods Glory and the good of His Church, and for Your endlesse blisse hereafter, prostrates both Himselfe and His Labours at Your Graces Feete with that reverence which becomes The meanest of Your Graces Servants, William Somner. <vi> <blank> <vii> THE PREFACE TO THE READER. It is the observation of some anci= ent Philosophers (who also prove it by divers good arguments) that all men, for the most part, have a naturall desire to immortality. But this we all know by common approv’d experi= ence, that ‘Man that is borne of a Woman is of short continuance. He commeth forth like a Flower and is cut downe, he flyeth also as a shadow and continueth not.’ Some therefore who knew not of any other world after this, in defence of natures wayes and providence, maintained, that she had in some manner satisfied the desire of man in making him generative. Nam quodammodo ipse putatur vivere, cujus progenies vivit, (‘For that man in some sort may be thought yet alive, whose progeny is living’) as I may say in the words of Cassiodore with little al= teration. But if there be any immortality in this, <viii> it can be but an immortality of the body, not of the minde, the best and chiefest part of man. The immortality of the minde (all that it is capa= ble of in this world, which though it be not im= mortality properly, yet may certainely much conduce to allay the complaints of mortall men concerning their shortnesse of life) doth, as I conceive, especially depend from that Memoria præteritorum, and Providentia futurorum, (‘Re= membrance of things past,’ and ‘Foresight of things to come’) which the Latine Orator speakes of. As for the first, he certainly that knowes no more of the world (the time of a mans life be= ing so short as it is) then what hath happened in his time, though he may be in yeares, and per= chance very old in regard of his body, yet in re= gard of his minde and knowledge, he can be accounted but a very child. Which is the very answer that an ancient Egyptian Priest and Anti= quary gave to Solon concerning the Grecians of his time: that they were all, the best and ancien= test of them, but very babes and children. And his reason was, because none of them could say any thing of the state of their owne countrey be= yond their owne and their fathers memory: whereas the Egyptians, out of their ancient holy Records, could tell them many memorable things, both concerning Greece in generall, and the state of their then famous Athens in particular, <ix> <sig 2*> for many hundred, if not thousand, of yeares before. If therefore a man living in a place of note, can by his industry, out of undoubted Re= cords and Monuments (if such be the happy con= dition of the place, that it afford them) certainly finde, what have beene the severall both materi= all alterations (as in respect of buildings, and the like) and historicall events, that have happened to it for divers ages before, and can derive the present times and places that he lives in, by a continuall series of chances and alterations from such or such a beginning, I doe not see (if know= ledge be granted to be the life of the soule, as the soule is the life of the body) but he may reckon his yeares according to the proportion of his know= ledge, accounting himselfe to have lived so many yeares, as he is able truely and historically to give an account of. Now for that other part of immortality, which is Providentia futurorum, even this hath such dependance of the former, as that he that is well vers’d in the knowledge of things past, may probably foresee what will happen in time to come. As for example; It was no difficult thing for one of the ancient Grecians (who lived in the dayes of Pythagoras, and was one of his Audi= tors) having observed the course of the world, and what had already hapned to Greece it selfe, and to other places in that kinde, to foretell of <x> old Greece, then flourishing, that the time would come when it should be the seate of Ignorance and Barbarisme; as it is at this day. Vpon the same grounds of former ages experience, did ano= ther of the ancients both foresee and foretel, above a thousand yeares before any such thing happen= ed, the discovery of a new world, in these re= markeable words of his: —- Venient annis Secula seris, quibus Oceanus Vincula rerum laxet, & ingens Pateat tellus, Tiphysque novos Detegat orbes: nec sit terris Vltima Thule. As the knowledge of ancient things is pleasant, so is the ignorance as shamefull, and oftentimes exposes men to the scorne and contempt of stran= gers. Tully relates of himselfe, that being sent with authority to Syracusa, a quondam renowned City of Sicilia, for his owne private satisfaction, he enquired of the chiefest of the City about the sepulcher and monument of their famous Archi= medes; who (through shamefull ignorance of their City-Antiquities) denyed that he had any. But Tully knowing the contrary by what he had read, and by good luck remembring some cer= taine verses that mentioned some particulars of his monument, whereby it might be knowne from others, taking along with him those ‘vene= <xi> rable blocks’ (who, as ordinary worldly men, had no care but for their profit, no curiosity but for their belly) he repaired to the place, being neer the City-gates, where ancient sepulchers and monuments were most frequent, and so negle= cted (whereby you may judge of the temper of the Inhabitants) that they were almost all over= growne with thickets and bushes. But the place being cleered by men that were on purpose set on worke, he found at last by helpe of the fore said directions, the monument that he sought, with the very markes (a Sphæra, and a Cylindrus) and the inscription (though now halfe worne out, more through neglect then age) that he looked for. And so, to the great shame of that City, and the inhabitants thereof (noted abroad for their luxurious life and great excesse in all worldly things) concludes with these upbraiding insul= ting words: Ita nobilissima Græciæ civitas, quondam vero etiam doctissima, sui civis unius acutissimi monu= mentum ignorasset, nisi ab homine Arpinate didi= cisset. As if a man should scoffingly object to us here of Canterbury, that he was faine to come out of Wales or Scotland, of purpose to shew us the monument and place of buriall of some one of our famous Abbats, or renowned Archbishops, whose credit, and bounty, when living, had re= dounded much to the honour and benefit of the City.