Cathedral Cats. Richard Surman

– the ideal companion for such independent and idiosyncratic animals.

       Leofric, featured in Country Living

      As for the cathedrals, they are a strange combination of the magnificent and the everyday. On one hand there are the awe-inspiring architecture and settings of these great buildings, while on the other hand there are all the human elements that have brought about these monolithic expressions of faith and power. Even the grandest cathedral has its human aspect, in the lives of those who live and work in it, and in its history and construction.

      Many people helped me find a new line up of cathedral cats. In particular, I’d like to thank Pauline Hawkins at Lichfield Cathedral, Catherine Spender, Simon Lole and Alun Williams at Salisbury Cathedral, Tom Morton at Portsmouth Cathedral, Angela Prior at Canterbury Cathedral, Fiona Barnaby and Nicholas Fry at Chester Cathedral, Penelope Utting at Chichester Cathedral, Alison Chambers at Hereford Cathedral, Rosemary Murgatroyd at Ripon Cathedral, Sarah Friswell at St Edmundsbury Cathedral, Anna Davidson at St Mary’s Episcopal Cathedral, Jackie Pope and Joanne Green at Westminster Abbey, Fiona Price at Gloucester Cathedral, Susie Arnold at Worcester Cathedral, Chris Stone at Rochester Cathedral and Stephen Wickner at Ely Cathedral.

      I’m also very grateful to Adam Munthe for providing me with a suitably eccentric and secluded hideaway in which to write, and of course to Ian Metcalfe at Collins for providing me with the opportunity to tackle anew a cherished topic, Cathedral Cats.

Daisy and Lazarus

       St Edmundsbury

       ‘The cat, which is a solitary beast, is single minded and goes its way alone; but the dog, like his master, is confused in his mind’

       H.G. Wells

       THE CATHEDRAL

      Unlike many of Britain’s cathedrals, the final shapes of which were more or less determined in the middle ages, St Edmundsbury has acquired its present appearance since the 18th century, with the central lantern tower only recently completed.

      Little of the substance of the original Benedictine Abbey of St Edmund remains, but there are some interesting remnants – the rebuilt abbey gatehouse, the excavated footings of the eastern end of the abbey, and the curious site of houses incorporated into the ruined western end of the abbey church. The present cathedral is half the length of the old abbey, which gives a pretty good idea of the scale of the original monastic buildings.

      With a home that borders leafy abbey churchyard grounds, a ruined castle and a large cathedral, Daisy and Lazarus have one of the most extensive territories of all the cats in this book. And for a cat named Lazarus, what more suitable territory than a graveyard!

      Catherine Todd, Rector of the Horringe Benefices, her husband Andrew, Residentiary Canon at St Edmundsbury Cathedral, and their three children, Benedict, Hannah and Lydia, live in a Georgian house that fronts on to the main road. Bury St Edmunds is a busy town, so the world outside the front door is a no-go zone for the cats. Fortunately for Daisy and Lazarus, the back of the house gives onto safer territory. It overlooks the delightful tree-lined promenades and crumbling gravestones of the old abbey churchyard, and enjoys a fine view of the entire length of the cathedral, complete with its magnificent new crossing tower. I was curious to know how far the cats roamed within this vast area, and Catherine thought that they went no further than the old abbey church. But I saw Lazarus nipping around the east end of the cathedral and heading for the knot garden and castle with the determination of someone who knows exactly where he’s going.

       The graveyard is Lazarus’s favourite playground

      The cats came from different litters of British Short-hairs. Lazarus was a weak kitten who had been abandoned, and the breeder placed him in the same litter as Daisy to see if he would revive, which he did – and received his name in tribute to the unexpected recovery. My brief observations of both cats don’t entirely align with those of the family. I was told that Daisy is more adventurous than Lazarus, but it was Lazarus that was slinking along the side of the cathedral, Lazarus who stalked off confidently in the direction of the knot garden and ruined castle; Daisy was just rolling around on an old gravestone and hiding under a neighbour’s car.

      The two cats live together in a state of entente demi-cordiale. They’ll occupy the same room, pass relatively close to each other – and that’s as far as it goes. Lazarus will insist on having the occasional tussle with Daisy; no one is sure why, as he always comes off worse. With this relationship of grudging tolerance in place, both cats generally go their separate ways.

      The gardens and riverside meadows are a popular place for picnics, but the two cats have not yet worked out the tourist potential for acting as a team. Maybe neither has the need, as Daisy has found out that chapter meetings can be pretty productive, especially in other people’s houses, where she can anticipate a variety of menus. For his part, Lazarus has developed some very strange food habits, principal among which is a passion for granary bread.

       Daisy, lurking by the cathedral

      Both cats have followed the construction of the new cathedral tower, from the shelter of the ruined western end of the old abbey church. The scaffolding has provided limitless opportunities for Daisy to view her kingdom while Lazarus, unimpressed by her acrobatic feats, is more interested in finding a friendly baker.

       Lazarus: a passion for brown bread

Rhubarb, Fungus and Magic

       Canterbury Cathedral

       ‘One cat just leads to another’

       Ernest Hemingway

       THE CATHEDRAL

      Canterbury’s imposing cathedral almost overpowers the city that surrounds it, in physical terms and also in the weight of its history.

      The original cathedral, built by St Augustine, was destroyed in a fire in 1067, and again fire destroyed much of its Norman replacement, although the shrine of St Thomas à Becket was spared (only to be destroyed later by Cromwell’s troops). The tombs of Henry VI and his wife Joan of Navarre, and of Edward, the Black Prince survived the Reformation. Today Canterbury Cathedral remains not just a tourist destination but a place of pilgimage and a worldwide symbol for Christianity.

      There is a cacophony of cats at Canterbury Cathedral – choir cats, school cats, canonical cats and visiting cats. Such a vigorous feline population is hardly out of character for a place that has always been a hive of activity; down the centuries Canterbury Cathedral has thrived on the visits of pilgrims to the shrine of St Thomas à Becket, and tourists come to see the tombs of Henry VI, his wife Joan of Navarre, and Edward the Black Prince.

       Magic: unmusical