Becket’s Crown forms the easternmost portion of the Cathedral. The old-time explanation that this chapel was so named as having contained once a part shorn off from the saint’s skull by the sword of one of his murderers, can scarcely be correct. On the north stands the tomb of Cardinal Archbishop Pole (1556-58), who died but two-and-twenty hours after his cousin and patron, Queen Mary; and, in the centre, the chair of St Augustine, carved out of three pieces of Purbeck marble. By some it has been called the chair of St Ethelbert, saying that he himself used it as a throne, and, after his conversion, gave it to the greater saint. Others, more cautious, hold that it dates only from the Translation of St Thomas in 1220. Indeed, it is a question of “may-be” and “may-not-be,” such an one as delights the hearts of militant archæologists. St Andrew’s and St Anselm’s towers, both Prior Ernulf’s work, stand opposite each other on the north and south sides of the Trinity Chapel, and are sturdy survivors of the great fire that destroyed Conrad’s choir. Dividing St Anselm’s tower from the aisle is the beautiful altar tomb of Archbishop Simon de Mepham (1328-33), with ornate canopy, who, so it is said, died of a broken heart, the Pope siding with Grandison, Bishop of Exeter, in his quarrel with the archbishop. At the east end of this chapel stood the altar of St Peter and St Paul, behind which St Anselm was buried. Of the saintly figures connected with the Cathedral, that of Anselm is one of the most fascinating; a personality purely mediæval in its saintly piety and its sturdy, unbreakable upholding of the rights of mother church against the encroachments of the temporal powers. After a life of turmoil and trial, he died here in Canterbury, and sleeps in this chapel that bears his name. Above is the watching chamber, where nightly and night-long a monk stood keeping watch and ward over the treasures of the shrine of St Thomas. At least this is one account of the uses made of this chamber--but there are others. But with whatever object it may have been, there can be small doubt that for one purpose or another a watcher was stationed there at night; solemn his task and his vigil, yet not without its moments of beauty, as all know who have wandered in a vast cathedral, when the moon pours its dim, misty light through the great windows.