The Cod Brass: 15th Century Recycling in a Rochester Church
Congratulations to Mr Alan Moss from Rochester, the winner of the Churches Committee Competition. His winning entry appears below.
The subject of this short essay is not puzzling, nor particularly bizarre (to use the words of the invitation) but it is, we like to think, somewhat unusual and its survival somewhat remarkable. For reasons which will emerge, it could be described as an example of 15th century recycling.
In addition to its ancient Cathedral, this year celebrating its 14th centenary, the City and Liberty of Rochester once had four parish churches of ancient foundation: St Clement, St Nicholas (Rochester), St Nicholas (Strood) and St Margaret. Of these, St Clement has long gone, its last vestiges disappearing under the 19th century railway works and St Nicholas (Rochester) now serves as the offices of the diocese. St Nicholas (Strood) and St Margaret happily still fully functioning, both having been almost completely rebuilt in the early years of the 19th century. It is to St Margaret’s that we look for the object of the recycling of which I refer. It is in fact a small brass, measuring about 16 inches by 11 and commemorating the life and ministry of one Thomas Cod, Vicar of the said parish between 1448 and 1465. The inscription which accompanies it translates as follows: “Here lies a victim of death, the wise learned Reverend Thomas Cod, once belated and pious Vicar of this Church; for he rendered great service to this Church of Christ and departed to the Lord in a very sad, terrible time (in the worst times). This T.C. dies in the year 1465 in the month of November. In the arms of the Martyrdom of Saturninus (November 29th), O God of Thou, Oh Jesus, have mercy on him, O holy Andrew bring him trophies from his (spiritual) enemy. May eternal life be the reward of all his holy works.”
The enigmatic reference to his having repaired the belfry when in a very bad state or “in the worst times” leaves us uncertain as to what he really did. The reference to “the worst times” may have referred to the state of the nation, rather than the condition of the belfry itself. Whatever is meant, evidence suggests that the tower was completely rebuilt. The tower is, in fact, the only part of the medieval church which survived the rebuilding, in the classical style, between 1823 and 1840.
It was during the later stages of the rebuilding that the brass which had lain in the middle aisle was disturbed. It was lifted to the object of a clumsy attempt to take a cast in lead. This resulted in the body being torn away from the head; the detached head was taken into the care of the then incumbent, the Rev’d Mr Drage. On close inspection it was found to be engraved on the reverse side as well as the face. Careful cleaning revealed the head of a cleric in a remarkably pristine condition - some 400 years after its manufacture. Permission was given for the rest of the brass to be removed and the whole - by now in three pieces - was found to be a representation of a priest wearing the vestments of his day. The mystery remained as to why such an apparently perfect specimen should have lain concealed from view for so many centuries.
The brass was restored by a Mr J S Carlos. He replaced certain parts which had been lost, blackened the lines of the brass and filled parts of the priest’s apparel with red wax, presumably having noted traces of red wax used by the maker.
Writing about the Cod brass in 1907, the Rev’d Walter E Buckeridge, Vicar of East Malling, also gave his opinion that the intention of those who ordered the brass was: “... to represent Thomas Cod in processional vestments, which consist of (1) a Cossack, (2) Surplice, (3) Almuce (a hood of fur, worn by dignitaries from which came the college hood), and (4) Cape. The engraver made a mistake and instead of the almuce or hood of fur, engraved the Amice, which is one of the Eucharistic vestments. So the engraver merely turned it over and engraved the dress correctly on the back.”
One can only imagine the fuss which must have erupted when, having paid no doubt a princely sum for it, those who commissioned the brass then found it to contain a fundamental error in its representation of their beloved priest. One may also suppose that an argument probably ensued as to who was responsible and who should bear the cost of rectifying it: the engraver or those who instructed the engraver. There being no money for a wholly new brass, a compromise was reached, the original was turned over, a new engraving executed - correct this time, much to everyone’s relief. The brass was put in place, the error was covered up and forgotten, not to see the light of day again for 400 years.
The Cod brass is happily still in the possession of what has since become the Parish of St Peter with St Margaret in Rochester. The hinged frame in which it was saved, so that both sides could be seen, is still visible in St Margaret’s Church. But the brass is not there. It has become extremely fragile, its fragility exacerbated, no doubt, by its 19th century adventures. To prevent further deterioration it has been removed to a safe place. Let us hope that in due course further repair or stabilisation can be carried out and that it may once again adorn our church. It is curious to think that, but for a careless mistake in the 15th century, the Cod brass would have been completely into oblivion by now.