FOR the discerning Georgian tourist in search of health as well as amusement, nothing could beat John Feltham’s Guide to all the watering and sea-bathing places. First published in 1803, it was an invaluable authority on resorts from Aberystwyth to Yarmouth. Unsurprisingly, it devoted many pages to Bath, “where Fashion has long established her court, and where Beauty and Elegance are seen in her train”. Not least of the attractions, it noted, was Bath Abbey and the memorials with which the place was filled. “Not a pillar, a portion of the walls, or a yard of the floor, but records mortality,” Feltham observed.
It was true. By the start of the 19th century, as Oliver Taylor shows in this detailed study, the Abbey was indeed a place best known for its memorials. It rested on more than 6000 graves, and 1500 individuals were commemorated on plaques, in sculpture, and through ledgerstones set into the pavement. For Feltham, such a profusion of memento mori was affecting — even dangerous. “On invalids”, he wrote, such an inescapable reminder of death “must have a very injurious effect”.
Only 14 years later, in 1817, another writer was provoked to a still more powerful (and negative) response. The cantankerous antiquary John Britton was disgusted with what he found in Bath and in Westminster Abbey, which was similarly jam-packed with memorials. He railed against these “monstrous masses of marble”, these “broken-backed horses, rampant and tame lions, figures of Time, Fame, Angels, and Cherubim”. For Britton, these modern accretions were a blight on the beauties of ancient architecture.
© BATH ABBEYLedgerstones record members of the Harvey family of sculptors, including “The Very Ingenious” John Harvey (d.1742) and, to the left of that stone, his sisters Sarah (d.1691/92) and Ann (d.1696). From the book reviewed here
Fashion favoured Britton’s approach and, under subsequent restorations, the memorials of Bath would be cut down, relocated, obscured, or removed. The plaques and sculptures were stripped from the pillars of the Abbey and trimmed so that they could be rearranged along the walls. The ledgerstones were hidden by pews. Recent archaeological work has found 4000 large fragments of stone which resulted from this process. The memorials were still inescapable, but they were no longer overwhelming, having been sorted, organised, and downgraded in importance as a result.
Bath Abbey’s Monuments is an exhaustive account of this story. Drawing on a mountain of evidence and Dr Taylor’s unrivalled experience as Head of Interpretation at Bath Abbey, it explains why the memorials were placed there, why they were removed, and how they play a part in the church’s life today. Handsomely illustrated and full of insight, his book will be of real value to anyone interested in the history of the Abbey, of the city, and of memorials more generally. A work of social history, it also illuminates the lives of those who were memorialised, those who cared for the place, and those who visited it.
The Revd Dr William Whyte is Fellow and Tutor of St John’s College, Oxford, and Professor of Social and Architectural History in the University of Oxford.
Bath Abbey’s Monuments: An illustrated history
Oliver Taylor
The History Press £22
(978-0-7509-9373-9)
Church Times Bookshop £19.80