its approaches. "Sailing up the
Channel," the narrator writes, "as we drew near to England we saw lofty
mountains full of chalk. These mountains seem from a distance to be clad
with snows. On them lies a citadel, built by devils, '_a Cacodaemonibus
extructa_,' so stoutly fortified that its peer could not be found in any
province of Christendom. Passing by these mountains and citadel we put in
at the city of Sandwich (_Sandvicum_).... But at nothing did I marvel more
greatly than at the sailors climbing up the masts and foretelling the
distance, and approach of the winds, and which sails should be set and
which furled. Among them I saw one sailor so nimble that scarce could any
man be compared with him." Journeying on to Canterbury, our pilgrim
proceeds: "There we saw the tomb and head of the martyr. The tomb is of
pure gold, and embellished with jewels, and so enriched with splendid
offerings that I know not its peer. Among other precious things upon it is
beholden the carbuncle jewel, which is wont to shine by night, half a
hen's egg in size. For that tomb has been lavishly enriched by many kings,
princes, wealthy traders, and other righteous men."

Such was Canterbury Cathedral in the middle ages, the resort of emperors,
kings, and all classes of humble folk, English and foreign. It was in the
spring chiefly, as Chaucer tells us, that

"Whanne that April with his showres sote
The droughte of March hath perced to the rote,
And bathed every veine in swiche licour,
Of whiche vertue engendred is the flour;
When Zephyrus eke with his sote brethe
Enspired hath in every holt and hethe
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,
And smale foules maken melodie
That slepen alle night with open eye,
So priketh hem nature in hir corages;
Than longen folk to gon on pilgrimages
And palmeres for to seken strange strondes
To serve hauves couthe in sondry londes;
And specially from every shires ende
Of Englelonde, to Canterbury they wende
The holy blissful martyr for to seke,
That hem hath holpen when that they were seke."

The miracles performed by the bones of the blessed martyr are stated by
contemporary writers to have been extraordinarily numerous. We have it on
the authority of Gervase that two volumes full of these marvels were
preserved at Canterbury, and in those days a volume meant a tome of
formidable dimensio