-= sa mrt BOTTA 
 6 TT param MTITATTf 
 ee METTTTTET TITEL | 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 a 
 8 
 a 
 ra 
 al 
 2 
 (3 
 A 
 z 
 a 
 a 
 a 
 a 
 a 
 a 
 is} 
 
 
 
 
 
Westminster 
 Abbey: 
 
 IEEE, SI OM OIE 
 OU TIN ATT ON Aes rie ie Olele 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES DUDLEY MORGAN, 
 
 Editor of ‘ Architecture.” 
 
 
 
 Lonpon : 
 
 Offices of ‘ Architecture,” 
 
 Talbot House, Arundel Street, Strand, W.C. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The First Volume of “ARCHITECTURE” for 1896, Now Ready, 
 
 
 
 contains, among other important features, 
 Articles on :— 
 
 THE WORK OF NORMAN SHAW, R.A. By THE EprrTor. 
 
 THE RENAISSANCE IN ENGLAND. By J. A. Gorcn. 
 
 SCOTTISH DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE. By A. N. PATERSON. 
 THE ANCIENT CROSSES OF ENGLAND. By CuHarves G. HARPER. 
 VIOLLET-LE-DUC. 
 
 FURNITURE AND JOINERY. By E. Guy Dawser. 
 
 MODERN ENGLISH IRONWORK. 
 By J STaARKIE GARDNER and HENRY LONGDEN. 
 
 THE NEW VOLUME will not only maintain the high degree of excellence 
 
 
 
 which has characterised the first, and has rendered ‘“ ARCHITECTURE ” 
 the foremost authority on matters of Architectural taste: it aims 
 
 
 
 at surpassing the brilliant record which the Editor and Proprietors 
 
 have already established. 
 

 
 Westminster Abbey: 
 
 Tue Srory or our NarionaL Cuurcu, 
 
 one of us has it in his power to increase the 
 glory, to strengthen the stability, to insure the perpeluity 
 of this Abbey. 
 thal is the best service we can render, to all those, dead 
 
 Every 
 
 That is the best memorial we can raise, 
 
 or living, who have loved, or who still love, this holy 
 and beautiful house, wherein our fathers worshipped 
 in the generations of the past, and wherein, if we be 
 but true to its glorious mission, our children and our 
 children’s children shall worship in the generations that 
 are yel to come.’—Dean Stanley on the death of 
 Sir Gilbert Scott, 6th April, 1878. 
 
 Iv savours of the irreligious, in these hours of open 
 conviction and plain eventful fact, to touch upon the 
 delightful fictions that cloud the early days of our 
 oldest fabrics. For nearly thirteen hundred years 
 a Church of some character has stood upon the spot 
 where the present Abbey buildings of Westminster 
 now stand. Legendary lore and most modern men 
 tell of the day when one Sebert, King of the East 
 
 Saxons, builded himself a Church on Thorney Js/and, 
 
 
 
 a peat waste—on the banks of the Thames—cut off 
 
 oy the ‘“ Eye” brook, which emptied itself into the 
 
 
 
 
 
 river somewhere on the near west side of the Houses 
 
 of Parliament, and by (what one historian unblush- 
 
 ingly terms) an open sewer, which we may take to 
 
 
 
 yave been a ditch. The legend goes that Sebert 
 ordered Melitus, the Bishop of 
 
 consecration, 
 
 London, to perform 
 but that on 
 function, 
 
 the ceremony of the 
 
 previous night, the eve of that solemn 
 
 
 
 Edric, a fisherman, was accosted by a stranger who 
 
 sought ferry across the Thames. Edric was invited 
 o moor and attend the stranger to the 
 
 Church, and there he witnessed such a sight as surely 
 
 
 
 
 
 his boai 
 
 no mortal eyes have since encountered. It was 
 St. Peter, determined to be beforehand in the 
 ceremony .of consecration; and on the morrow 
 
 Edric had such a story of rushing wings and lights 
 and holy incense to tell of, that had the floor not 
 
 been covered with the drippings of the angels’ 
 
 
 
 candles, heaven only knows what would have 
 
 happened to the affrighted fisherman. Nothing, of 
 course, can be derived from these interesting legends 
 which go down in our history, century after century, 
 for the want of one clear item of fact; yet it may 
 safely be granted that both this ancient Church, 
 dedicated to St. Peter—of which not a fragment has 
 come down to us—and the one originally dedicated 
 to St. Paul and erected on Ludgate Hill at the same 
 time, were among the earliest works of the Christian 
 converts in Britain. 
 
 THE CONFESSOR’s CHURCH. 
 
 Immediately after Sebert’s death, his sons began 
 o neglect the sacred edifice ; eventually the Danes 
 
 ruthlessly desecrated the place, and for several 
 
 centuries the ‘‘ whole thing remained a monument of 
 he sacrilegious fury of the times.’’ When, however, 
 King Ethelred and his queen, the beautiful Norman 
 princess Emma, had to seek refuge in Normandy 
 from the Danes, their son Edward was brought up 
 in the Norman Court, and for five and twenty years 
 he busied himself in the erection of those fine 
 ecclesiastical works in Caen, which to this day are 
 It was until 
 
 examples we are glad to study. not 
 
 1041 that Edward (in after years to be known to 
 
 
 
 sor) determined to 
 
 
 
 history and all men as the Confe 
 return to England and establish himself upon the 
 throne of his fathers, and in 1049 he commenced the 
 rebuilding of the Church of St. Peter, that had laid 
 in ruin so long. Sixteen years he spent in his task 
 of reconstructing the royal fane and in establishing 
 a Benedictine Monastery in connection with it. 
 
 Like its predecessor, we know very little about the 
 Confessor’s Abbey, except that it was the first 
 And it 
 
 have been a noble one, for Matthew Paris, writing 
 
 cruciform Church built in England. must 
 
 
 
 in the thirteenth century upon the death of the 
 
 
 
 that he was “buried in the Church 
 
 5 
 
 Confessor, said 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Che 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE ABBEY FROM DEAN’S YARD 
 
 which he had constructed in that mode of composition 
 from which many of those afterwards constructing 
 Churches, taking example, had emulated in its costly 
 expenditure.” Sir Gilbert Scott was “much disposed 
 to think” that the Confessor’s Church may have been 
 nearly or quite as large in its elementary scale as the 
 present structure. In proof of this, there can be no 
 doubt that his Choir, for a time, co-existed with the 
 
 sresent Nave and agreed with 
 
 DRAWN BY HERBERT RAILTON 
 
 
 
 he The 
 dimensions of the old Nave are less easy of conjec- 
 ture, except by inference from the site of the 
 Refectory and by the fact that Cloisters extended 
 to within three bays of the existing western Towers. 
 As Cloisters rarely reached to the full extent of the 
 Nave, it suggests the probability that the old Nave 
 The 
 
 began the rebuilding of the Church itself. 
 
 did not fall much short of the present one. 
 
 
 
 it inelementary scale. Again, 
 1ere is no reason to believe 
 that the Choir of Wes 
 Abbey was rebuilt 
 
 ininster 
 setween 
 1e days of Edward and those 
 of Henry III., which would 
 have been inevitable had its 
 scale been diminutive ; and, 
 
 f it did exist through that 
 
 period, we have full proof 
 
 
 
 nat it was as long as the 
 
 present eastern arm of the 
 
 
 
 Abbey, from the fact of the 
 
 of 
 
 abutting against it 
 
 remains his Dormitory 
 
 Thay Toe) 
 
 
 
 while the east- 
 ward of the old 
 Church is certainly defined 
 
 usual way, 
 
 extension 
 
 
 
 by the fact that Henry con- 
 Chapel 
 
 rs before 
 
 structed his Lady 
 
 
 
 
 against it some ye 
 6 
 
 THE EAST END SHEWING 
 
 
 
 
 
 HENRY VII,’S CHAPEL 
 
 
 

 
 ‘WS'd ‘ALIVMHLATHOIN “Lf AT NMVUG 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 GLSL ~ 00C/ FEE 
 
 
 
 
 
 ost ~ ose/| ; 
 
 off ~ oC Cf 
 696/ ~ 096/ 
 096/~ Sh oh 
 ool/~SSo! ia 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ew, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 4aa4 40 3NVO¢ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 of of of oB/ off oof 06 Sey Bey ee ee eT a 
 NWT ANAOXS) 
 AUAAW WALSNIN ISA 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 Confessor must, therefore, have erected a beautiful 
 and wonderful pile, but all that remains of it—in 
 that 
 Nave floor some fifty years 
 Dormitory 
 
 addition to various “rich fragments” were 
 
 discovered under the 
 the 
 
 back—are the sub-structure of 
 
 running southwards from the south Transept, and 
 the Chapel of the Pyx. 
 > CHURCH. 
 
 he present Abbey Church was 
 
 THE PRESE 
 
 
 
 The founding of 
 entirely due to Henry III., one of England’s most 
 
 
 
 enlightened monarchs. Henry was passionately 
 
 fond of’ritual, had a keen artistic sense, and desired 
 
 
 
 nothing better than to create a right royal burying 
 place, and a Church that should be incomparable for 
 its beauty. For fifty years out of the fifty-six he 
 occupied the throne, he diligently attended to his 
 task, finishing the Lady Chapel, the entire east end 
 of the Church, the Confessor’s shrine behind the high 
 Altar, the Transepts—including the first bay west- 
 ward from the crossing, the Chapter House and the 
 Chapel of St. Faith.’ 
 
 dward I. constructed the first four bays of the 
 
 Nave, and the corresponding bays in the north walk 
 
 
 
 of the Cloisters. The next six bays were added by 
 various Prelates during*the reigns of Edward II. and 
 IIl., Abbot, Litlington completing the Nave about 
 385 A.bD., by adding the last bay, and building the 
 Abbot 
 
 Litlington was also responsible for the Refectory on 
 
 lower portions of the western Towers. 
 
 
 
 the Confessor’s sub-structure previously referred to, 
 
 the Abbot’s House, Jerusalem Chamber, the whole 
 
 
 
 of the west and the greater portion of the south walks 
 he Solomon Porch in front of 
 Henry V. 
 
 Abbot Estney, in 1498, 
 
 of the Cloisters, and 
 
 
 
 the north Transept portal. erected the 
 Shrine over the Ambulatory. 
 was responsible for and 
 Henry VII. it was who pulled down the Lady Chapel 
 ouilt thereon tha 
 
 is, and always will be, 
 
 the great west window, 
 
 of Henry Ty eand remarkable 
 
 edifice which one of the 
 
 
 
 wonders of the Architectural world. 
 Henry VII’s CHapet, 
 King Henry commenced his immorta 
 
 
 
 
 
 work in the 
 
 
 
 Leland 
 
 
 
 called it “the miracle of the 
 World,” and it remains to this day the finest and the 
 most sumptuous Perpendicular building in England. 
 
 year 1502. 
 
 The king meant it to be his Chantry as well as his 
 tomb, and almost a second Abbey was needed for the 
 
 
 
 monks who were to sing in their stalls “as long as the 
 World shall endure.” 
 
 Scott says that “the Chapel is the richest specimen 
 in existence of that peculiarly English style commonly 
 
 known as Tudor. It is too much the fashion to 
 
 
 
 (* This portion of the work and all succeeding additions are clearly defined on 
 Mr. Micklethwaite’s chronological plan here reproduced, but there appears to be 
 some discrepancy in his dating of the work. Henry III. clearly had not completed 
 the Transepts so early as 1260, nor had the four succeeding bays of the Nave and 
 the north walk of the Cloisters been begun in 1269, in which 
 Micklethwaite records them as being comple/ed. 
 these works at quite ten years later.—J. D. M.] 
 
 8 
 
 
 
 
 year Mr. 
 Our own personal research puts 
 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 depreciate and run down this style because it belongs 
 to the latest period of Gothic art, and naturally, 
 therefore, wants the boldness and vigour of the early 
 styles ; but it is far from being devoid of merit, and 
 the strong hold which it has on the popular mind, 
 to which it is always more attractive than the more 
 
 We 
 
 very much 
 
 severe earlier style, is itself a proof of merit. 
 may consider the elaborate ornament as 
 overdone to the eye of a more pure taste, but there 
 
 is no denying that it has great richness of effect, and 
 
 
 
 for the vaulting, that fan tracery vaulting is the 
 highest development of skill in construction, not only 
 in the Architect but in the workman.” 
 
 Bu 
 
 enlarging upon richness of effect and skill 
 
 
 
 in his apology for Tudor Architecture, while 
 in con- 
 
 
 
 have forced 
 Not 
 
 stone, nor all the carven pendants, 
 
 struction, he misses a point which must 
 
 
 
 itself upon the hearts and minds of eccles 
 all the fretted 
 poised fairy-like, over-head, can compensate for the 
 oss of that quiet dignity and reverence-compelling 
 style which is known as Early English, a style which 
 has, perhaps, no better exponent than the glorious 
 Choir and Nave, the tall and slender Transepts, of 
 his very Abbey. Those portions of the building 
 have power to beget reverence in the most sullen : 
 in this Chape 
 he design and at the engineering skill which went 
 
 
 
 of Henry VII., while you marvel at 
 
 owards rearing it, prayer and praise do not occupy 
 your thoughts so much as wonderment at the infinite 
 cost and labour that its building and its furnishing 
 
 must have entailed. That is the very point: decora- 
 ion and furnishing—the marvellous wealth of stone 
 carving, the profligacy of pinnacled stall-work and 
 joinery, obscure the purely architectural and con- 
 structional character, and the devotional intention, o 
 the Chapel, and 
 ine flower of the Tudor age, this veritable Palace of 
 \ Bu 
 the first entrance into Henry VII.’s Chapel is an 
 
 event not 
 
 
 
 give you earnestly to think that this 
 
 
 
 
 
 Art, is more truly palatial than ecclesiological. 
 
 
 
 o be forgotten in a lifetime. Passing the 
 
 darkened porch, shown in 
 
 through those 
 
 our illustration, and 
 wonderful brazen gates that Scot 
 
 ) 
 
 
 
 the 
 whole richness of the interior becomes apparen 
 
 describes so thoroughly in his “ Gleanings,’ 
 
 
 
 ata glance. Did ever arches spring up with such 
 fairy grace, or guide the entranced eye to a more 
 surpassingly beautiful and almost miraculous roof ? 
 where, in the words of Washington Irving, “stone 
 he cunning labours of the chisel, to have 
 been robbed of its weight and density, suspended 
 aloft as if by magic, and the fretted roof achieved with 
 the wonderful minuteness and airy security of a 
 
 
 
 seems, by 
 
 cobweb.” There must have been something truly 
 magnificent in a King who could determine on the 
 erection of such a Temple; select the genius that 
 could erect it, and then give such unlimited scope 
 
 
 
 
 
a 
 me 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 = 
 iS 
 
 BS) = 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE SOUTH CHOIR AISLE, SHEWING THE 
 ENTRANCE TO HENRY YVII.’S CHAPEL. 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 to the development of its loftiest and most daring 
 imaginings. And the artist or the architect is mn- 
 known. 
 
 The desire of fame, which is so proverbially a 
 characteristic of high minds, seems to be little felt 
 by the highest. In the breasts of the great men who 
 have bequeathed to this country its most precious 
 
 Architectural wealth we find no traces whatever of its 
 
 
 
 existence. A few words deeply cut on a stone would 
 have made their names immortal, but none of the 
 artist-constructors of Henry VII.’s Chapel seem to 
 have thought it worth the trouble. There is some 
 reason to believe that the Prior of St. Bartholomew’s, 
 Smithfield, was the guiding spirit of the place, for 
 he “ Master of the 
 out beyond that nothing is definite. 
 
 Henry, in his will, calls him 
 Works,” 
 
 To the 
 Having safely secured his soul, Henry made suitable 
 
 5 
 
 tomb itself special attention is desirable. 
 
 
 
 
 
 provision for his body. Of his burial he said bu 
 little further than to charge his executors to perform 
 it with a “ special respect and consideration to the 
 laud and praising of God, the wealth of our soul, and 
 somewhat to our dignity royal, eschewing always 
 damnable pomp and outrageous superfluities.” And 
 yet he proceeded to arrange for the construction of 
 
 a tomb, which for richness, if not for pompousness, 
 
 
 
 
 
 is not surpassed in the kingdom. Pietro Torregiano, 
 
 a Florentine, was selected to do the work. In early 
 
 
 
 life Pietro had been a fellow student with Michae 
 Angelo, and he came to England with a great repu- 
 The 
 
 a basaltic stone not unlike black 
 
 
 
 tation. tomb consists of a base of “touch,” 
 marble, on which 
 and his Consort, 
 
 sculptured in a style of great simplicity and adher- 
 
 repose the effigies of the King 
 
 ence to nature; the whole is adorned with pilasters, 
 
 
 
 relievos, rose-branches—depicting the .adhesion of 
 the two rival houses—and graven “tabernacles,” as 
 Henry called them in his will, of his patron saints ; 
 St. Michael, St. John 
 the Baptist and St. John the Evangelist, St. George 
 and St. Anthony, on the south side, and St. Mary 
 Barbara, St. 
 St. Anne, Edward the Confessor and John, and 
 
 viz., the Virgin and Saviour and 
 
 
 
 Magdalen and St. Christopher and 
 
 
 
 lastly, St. Vincent, on the north, all of copper and 
 gilt. Torregiano was six years engaged in the work, 
 and received for it the immense sum of £1,500. 
 
 The brass screen which surrounds the Tomb is 
 entirely English, and at one time was adorned with 
 no less than thirty-six statues, of which only six now 
 remain. 
 
 In addition to the Tomb itself, Torregiano made 
 and adorned in costly marble inlay and carving a 
 lofty Reredos, with a wonderful figure of the dead 
 
 Christ surrounded by angels, all exquisitely modelled 
 
 
 
 in terra cotta. This Reredos appears to have been 
 utterly destroyed by a certain Sir Robert Harlow in 
 
 10 
 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 fragments remain in the 
 
 1643, and the broken-up 
 Triforium to this day. It used to be described as 
 the monument to Edward VI., who was buried under 
 it. Some of the fragments of the marble altar were 
 identified by Professor Middleton among the Arundel 
 to the 
 
 Chapel, forming the supports of the present altar. 
 
 marbles at Oxford, and have been restored 
 
 It is worth while reproducing Malcolm’s impression 
 of Henry VII.’s Chapel before the Reformation :— 
 
 “ Divesting the subject of every vestige of super- 
 
 stitious veneration,” he says, ‘and viewing it merely 
 
 asa spectacle of extreme grandeur, I cannot avoid 
 
 
 
 calling to my readers’ recollection the superb scene 
 
 
 
 
 
 Henry VII.’s Chapel must have presented when just 
 completed. Then the windows were filled with painted 
 glass, and the light which streamed through them was 
 tinged with a warm glow of colour that heightened 
 
 
 
 the brilliancy of the gold and silver utensils of the 
 various altars and the embroidered vestments of the 
 te) 
 
 Priests, at the same time touching one pendan he 
 
 
 
 roof with purple, another with crimson, and a third 
 with yellow. The burning tapers, waving with every 
 current of air, varied the strong shadows on the 
 exquisite statues above them, and shewed their 
 
 features in every lineament. In the middle stood the 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 vast cross of gold, in the centre of the high altar, 
 behind it the polished brazen screen, and within it 
 
 the tomb and altar glowing with the light of tapers. 
 
 
 
 The sculptured walls and exquisite minutely carved 
 roof bounded this unparalleled view, which, thanks 
 to the skill of its Architect, still enchants us, though 
 all its accompaniments are buried in irretrievable 
 ruin.” 
 
 It is here, perhaps, pardonable, and is distinctly 
 interesting, if we make a lengthened quotation from 
 the recent book on Westminster Abbey, by Mr. 
 W. J. Loftie, F.S.A. In the chapter dealing with 
 Henry VII.’s Chapel, he says this :—‘‘Before giving, 
 
 
 
 in technical terms, a brief description of the roof, it 
 may be worth while to observe what was the object 
 or tendency o 
 
 medieval Architecture. Every 
 
 Architect then endeavoured to move forward, not, 
 
 
 
 as now, to move backward.* There can be little 
 
 
 
 doubt that it is to the imperfect knowledge they had 
 of statics and other branches of science that we owe 
 the introduction 
 
 of the pointed arch. The theory 
 
 of Architecture 
 
 
 
 was that arches should, if possible, 
 The builders of the roof of the 
 Chapel of Henry VII., in their last and crowning 
 
 have round heads. 
 
 effort of Gothic art, endeavoured to make it as nearly 
 flat as possible, and to get rid finally of the point. 
 In this object they all but succeeded. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Here is the 
 technical description of the wonderful roof as-nearly 
 as possible given by Brayley, who probably had it 
 
 * I am afraid Mr, Loftie's sweeping assertion here will have to be greatly 
 discounted.—J D. M. 
 
 
 
 
 
(a 
 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 from Jeffrey Wyatt :—‘The main ribs or groins 
 spring from the capitals of triplicated columns, 
 wrought in the face of the side piers, and they unite 
 
 in the middle of the vaulting, forming a series of very 
 
 slightly pointed arches. 
 
 Every groin appears to go 
 
 
 
 
 
 through the centre of a vast circular pendant, which, 
 growing from an octagonal base, extends the rich 
 embroidery of its ramifications over the vaults till the 
 All the 
 
 so that the stones composing 
 
 extreme circles of each meet at the apex. 
 pendants are contrived 
 hem may have the effect of 
 keystones ; and as the groins 
 
 which intersect them abut 
 
 against the crossed springers, 
 
 
 
 
 
 which stretch over the aisles 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 rom the exterior buttresses, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 he whole vaulting is as stead- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ast as any vaulting can be. 
 To prevent the groins from 
 spreading at the haunches, the 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 between them and the 
 
 
 
 
 
 space 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 side piers is occupied by per- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 forated masonry, and the angles 
 
 a) 
 
 of the piers are half-pendants 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Architecturally speaking, the 
 Chapel consists of a Nave, two 
 side Aisles, and five smaller 
 apsidal Chapels. 
 
 
 
 There is no 
 entrance but from the interior 
 of the Abbey, as shown in our 
 illustration, but there is a small 
 workman’s door in one of the 
 turrets, giving access to the 
 south Aisle. The vaulting itself 
 is supported by 
 outtresses, or turrets, between 
 
 fourteen 
 
 which are thirteen windows, 
 urrets and walls being covered 
 with lace-like patterns, every 
 part being enriched by minute 
 racery and thousands of roses, 
 portcullises, flowers - de - luce 
 lions, dragons and greyhounds. 
 In one of the small Chapels at 
 
 the east end there still exists 
 
 
 
 
 
 he slab which at one time 
 
 covered Cromwell’s grave ; 
 
 but it will be remembered that 
 
 
 
 he Protector’s body was re- 
 moved a few years after its 
 interment. Mary Queen of 
 
 Scots and Queen Elizabeth lie 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 buried beneath their monu- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ments in the north and south 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Aisles. Since Queen Elizabeth’s 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 death, twelve sovereigns of 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 England have been buried in 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 AN ANGLE OF HENRY VII.’S TOMB. 
 
 
 
 the Chapel, and yet, remark- 
 
 
 
 able to relate, in no instance 
 
 has any monument whatever 
 
 been erected to their memory, 
 II 
 
 
 

 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 HENRY VII.’S CHAPEL, 
 
 nor even so much as a line of inscription carved. 
 Dean Stanley, who is himself buried in the Chapel, 
 and to whom the royal sepulchres owe so much, 
 placed the names of these neglected sovereigns as 
 nearly as possible over the place where each was 
 buried. James I., Charles II., William and Mary, 
 Queen Anne, and George II. (the last of the royals), 
 were laid in vaults ; the Stuarts at the east of the 
 North Aisle, those of the House of Hanover in the 
 centre of the Chapel, near the west door. 
 
 In addition to these and the vault under the Shrine 
 of Henry VII., there are at least two others ; in fact, 
 the whole area of the Chapel is honeycombed with 
 them. Anne of Denmark is buried on the north side 
 
 
 
 of the Shrine ; her son Henry, with his elder brother, 
 a child, in the South Aisle, with a great many other 
 
 12 
 
 
 
 DRAWN BY HERBERT RAILTON. of what had existed, the exact detai 
 
 scions of royalty, among whom rests, 
 after her troubled life, Mary, Queen of 
 Scots. Here, also, lie no fewer than 
 
 eighteen children of Queen Anne. 
 These facts were elicited upon the 
 opening of the vault by Dean Stanley. 
 For three hundred years after the 
 
 death of its royal builder, however, 
 
 hardly anything was done in the: way 
 
 
 
 of’ repairs, either to the Chapel itself 
 or even to other portions of the Abbey 
 proper. Spoliation had been going on 
 in areckless fashion until Dean Vincent, 
 ate ime: le 
 century, approached Lord Grenville 
 
 
 
 2) 
 
 eginning of the present 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 or national support, and his Lordship 
 
 
 
 advised him to present a memorial to 
 he House of Commons. The memorial 
 
 
 
 being successful, restoration of the 
 
 
 
 Chapel was commenced, and under 
 
 
 
 the care of the Dean and James Wyatt, 
 the Architect, Jeremiah Glanville, the 
 clerk of works, and Thomas Gayfere, 
 he mason, over £40,000 was spent, al 
 
 
 
 the external walls being most carefully 
 restored in their exuberant detail of 
 enriched panelling, embossed niches, 
 fretted tracery, and heraldic and 
 
 
 
 ecorative sculpture. 
 
 fal 
 
 Perhaps no finer piece of restoration 
 has ever been accomplished in the 
 history of our country. We have, o 
 course, no means of telling how far 
 
 
 
 actual restoration was adhered to and 
 what amount of old work was pre- 
 served. We fear very little, so tha 
 Wyatt's labour must have devolved 
 
 
 
 into a very careful and exact copying 
 
 
 
 of which was fairly easy to ascertain, 
 owing to the intense repetition of parts. It was ata 
 period more than a hundred years anterior to this 
 restoration that it had been found necessary to tie 
 the roof, in order to prevent the destruction of the 
 whole mass. Of this we can speak when we come 
 to treat of more recent restorations and repairs, but 
 
 
 
 it may be remarked here that it was to the judicious 
 care of Sir Christopher Wren, the exponent of the 
 Classic Renaissance, that this gorgeous Gothic roof 
 owes its preservation to this and future ages. The 
 tie-rods which he inserted are clearly shown in our 
 illustration on a previous page. 
 
 In 1861, Sir Gilbert Scott wrote this in his 
 “Gleanings from Westminster” :—‘‘We hope that 
 the advice given by Lord Grenville to Dean Vincent 
 (to apply to Parliament, &c.), and so judiciously 
 
 
 
 
 
ee siete 7 Sree - — 
 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 acted upon by him, will not be lost sight of by the treasure will form the fitting opening of another 
 present Dean and Chapter, and that the Parliament chapter of its history. To Sir Gilbert Scott, more 
 of Queen Victoria will treat the Chapter House with than to any other man of the century, the lovers of 
 the same good taste and liberality which the Parlia- this venerable pile must always be indebted. 
 
 ment of George IV. showed in the case of Henry 
 
 VII.’s Chapel. The claim is a far stronger one, for THE Cuaprer House. 
 
 in place of the decay of time only, as in the instance We have now to deal with Scott's restoration of 
 of the Chapel, we have in the case of the Chapter the Chapter House, before the interior of the Church 
 House actual violence, committed by Parliament proper. To do this accurately, we cannot do better 
 itself, which first took possession of it for its own than quote Sir Gilbert himself: “I had ”—he 
 meetings, and then mutilated it for the purpose of writes—‘‘ almost immediately after my appointment 
 urning it into a public Record Office, for which it as Architect of the Abbey, devoted a great amount 
 was singularly ill-suited. . . . We hear that, if of time to investigating, and making measured 
 Parliament will grant the ‘ruins’ and £20,000 sketches of, the Chapter House, and I was therefore 
 owards the dilapidations, the Dean and Chapter are well prepared when, many years later, the work was 
 
 
 
 
 
 intending to undertake the perfect restoration of this actually placed in my hands. I may truly say that 
 beautiful building, the present state of which is a this was a labour of love, and that not a point was 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 missed which would enable me to ascertain the 
 Sir Gilbert Scott could hardly have deemed it pos- actual design of any part; nor was any old feature 
 sible at this time that he himself should be called in renewed of which a trace of the old form remained. 
 o reinstate and restore the Chapter House over I know of no parts which are conjecturally restored 
 
 disgrace to the country.’ 
 
 
 
 
 
 which he had always waxed enthusiastic. That he but the following :—The external parapet, the pin- 
 
 a 
 
 was so Called in, and that he rescued a fine and _nacles, the gables of the buttresses, and the roof. In 
 
 
 
 
 
 noble piece of work from the degradation into which my drawings, made long before, I had shewn the 
 it had been gradually falling for several centuries, is shortened window over the internal doorway as of 
 known to all men; but how he accomplished his five lights. I did so because some of the bases of 
 
 
 
 ask, how he became intimately connected with the the mullions remained which shewed the window to 
 abric of the Abbey, and what he did for its priceless have been of five lights. Why, then, in the restora- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 HENRY VII,’S CHAPEL, 
 
 wo 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 tion, it may well be asked, has it been made of only 
 four lights like the other windows? I will explain 
 why. All the other windows have ancient iron ties 
 at, or near, the springings. These are of round iron, 
 but hammered flat where they pass the mullions. 
 Now the west, or shortened, window had lost all its 
 
 tracery, and was walled up with the voussoirs of the 
 
 
 
 we 
 lat- 
 hree (not four) mullions. 
 
 vaulting ribs. On removing these, however, 
 
 found the iron tie-piece in its place, and it was 
 
 tened, like the others, for 
 
 
 
 It was clear, therefore, that the west window had 
 How comes it, then, that the 
 
 Why, it was clear, 
 
 seen like the others. 
 mullion bases tell another tale ? 
 
 
 
 from fragments of tracery, that the window had been 
 renewed ‘vy Abbot Byrcheston when he rebuilt the 
 pays of the Cloisters opposite to the Chapter House 
 IBN, 
 
 ive-light 
 
 e with them. 
 
 
 
 entrance, and in the same sty 
 
 therefore, had altered it from a four to a 
 window, and 
 1e left the old tie in its place, flattened out 
 
 mullions as he had found it.” 
 
 aad moved the mullion bases, although 
 
 
 
 
 
 or three 
 
 
 
 Amoreelegant and exquisitely-proportioned interior 
 
 than the lofty octagonal Chapter House  coulc 
 
 scarce be found. The diameter of the octagon 
 is about 18 ft., and the height to the crown of the 
 vaulting about 54 ft. The diameters of those others a 
 o be abou 
 35 ft. high, 
 
 marble, consisting of a 
 
 Salisbury, Lincoln, and York seem all 
 the same. The cer 
 
 ral pillar is about 
 and is entirely of Purbeck 
 central shaft surrounded by eight subordinate shafts. 
 
 
 
 The doorway itself has been a truly noble one. I 
 
 was double, divided by a 
 
 
 
 single central pillar, and a 
 
 circle in the head. The jambs and arch are mag- 
 
 
 
 nificent, and the former contains on the outer side 
 
 four large shafts of Purbeck marble. Their caps are 
 
 
 
 
 
 of the same material and most beautifully carved, 
 
 
 
 and the spaces between the shafts richly foliated. 
 
 
 
 “To get at some of the details of this doorway,” 
 
 
 
 wtites Sir Gilbert in those argumentative and apolo- 
 getic “ Recollections ” of his, “I had to creep on a 
 mass of parchment and dust ten feet deep, and, after 
 taking out the boarding at the back of the cases, to 
 examine and draw by the help of a little bull’s-eye lan- 
 tern 
 
 
 
 a most laborious operation, and giving one more 
 the look ofa master chimney-sweep thanan Architect.” 
 
 The walls below the windows are occupied by 
 arcaded stalls with trefoiled heads ; the details are of 
 great richness, but one of the most remarkable 
 features is the painting at the back of the stalls, 
 most probably representing our Lord exhibiting the 
 
 mysteries of the Redemption to the heavenly host, 
 
 
 
 and presumably executed about the middle of the 
 
 fourteenth century. 
 
 
 
 The entrance to the Chapter House from the 
 
 
 
 Cloisters is formed by an outer and an inner vestibule. 
 
 
 
 The outer vestibule is exceedingly low, owing to the 
 
 14 
 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 necessity for the dormitory to pass over it to effect a 
 communication with the Church. It is vaulted in 
 two spans, but a brick wall existed longitudinally 
 down the centre, entirely hiding the marble pillars. 
 Sir Gilbert removed this wall, and also a staircase 
 which had actually been constructed to gain access 
 to the room above, the vaulting having been destroyed 
 He immediately set to work and 
 
 
 
 for that purpc 
 restored the vaulting, two bays of which had com- 
 pletely gone. The detail of the entrance gateway 
 from the Cloisters he does not seem to have touched, 
 COTM avis) 
 
 s, which has proved perfectly suc- 
 
 except to apply to it a solution of shellac. 
 process,” he s: 
 cessful in the interior of the Abbey, was tried as an 
 experiment in the bay of the Cloister which aligns 
 As to its 
 
 success in f/is case, under conditions intermediate 
 
 
 
 with the entrance to the Chapter House. 
 
 between those of external and internal Architecture, 
 I am myself very doubtful.” And his doubt was 
 justified, for the application has in no way retarded 
 the gradual decay of the stone. But Scott hoped 
 that it would—he loved the fabric so. In one place 
 in his ‘“ Recollections” he tells how tenderly the 
 walls were treated. The decayed surface of the 
 work, “like so much powder,” was blown off by a 
 bellows, and then the shellac applied through a fine- 
 nozzled syringe to prevent any friction from a brush. 
 Veneration could surely go no further than this, and 
 we hold the memory of that busy Architect in honour 
 for it. 
 
 benediction upon his 
 
 But let us not be understood to pronounce a 
 restoration of the Chapter 
 He did no 
 ry, and that much according 
 
 
 
 House and of other parts of the Abbey. 
 more than was necess. 
 
 
 
 to his lights ; but, academically correct though his 
 work may be, it is characterised by a mechanical and 
 spiritless appearance infinitely distressing. 
 
 AND CHOIR. 
 
 
 
 THE Nave, 
 And now we come to the glorious interior of the 
 Church itself—the long-drawn Aisle and fretted vault 
 —the incomparable Transepts, the Chapels which 
 itself, the Choir, 
 
 The period of the erection of the 
 
 encircle the Sanctuary, the Apse 
 
 and the Nave. 
 
 
 
 Abbey was undoubtedly one of the greatest transi- 
 
 tional epochs of our Architecture. he latter 
 the 
 
 sothic arch had, both in France and in England, 
 
 During 
 
 
 
 half o: twelfth century, the Romanesque or round 
 
 
 
 transformed 
 
 
 
 itself by a thoroughly consecutive and 
 
 
 
 
 
 logical series of changes into the First Pointed style, 
 
 
 
 and in both countries that style had been worked 
 into a state of perfect consistency, and in each it had 
 hat the 
 works in the Choir at Lincoln, the Lady Chapel at 
 Westminster, and 
 
 and Ely 
 
 assumed its national characteristics; so 
 
 
 
 the western portals of St. Albans 
 
 
 
 all of which date from 1195 to 1215—mark 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 the perfectly developed Early English style, and are 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 wboirs gs 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE ROOF OF HENRY VII.'S CHAPEL 
 
 
 
 If this page be inverted andl held horizontal ator’s head the 
 exact impression of the roof can be obtained.—J. D. M. 
 
 H 
 Ur 
 
 
 
WWresominetce Abbey. 
 
 readily distinguishable from the contemporary works in France. 
 Judging from internal evidence, which is all we have to go upon unti 
 the published documents and archives of the Abbey are more thoroughly 
 reached, it is probable that an English Architect or Master of the Works 
 was commissioned to visit the great Cathedrals then in progress in 
 France. The result is precisely what might have been expectec 
 from such a course. Had a French Architect been sent for, we should 
 have had a plan really like some French Cathedral, and it would have 
 
 
 
 been carried out with French details, as was the case with William o 
 
 
 
 Sens’ work at Canterbury. As it is, however, the plan, though founded 
 
 
 
 on that most common in France, 
 
 
 
 jf PT : differs greatly from any existing 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Church, and it contains no French 
 
 
 
 
 
 details whatever, except the work 
 of one French carver. 
 Unquestionably, the best point 
 to gain a fine glimpse of the 
 interior of the Abbey is by 
 
 entering at the great west door, 
 
 ST. AMBROS 
 SIX STATUES FROM HE} 
 
 
 
 
 
 ¥Y Vil. S CHAPEL, 
 
 underneath those extraordinary 
 towers of Wren or Hawksmoor, 
 which we shall deal with when 
 we come to treat of the exterior. 
 There one gets a faithful idea of 
 the nobleness of the entire in- > 
 terior, enhanced, perhaps, by the 
 extent of the floor space being 
 foreshortened by the Choir com- Fo ee Reg PE 
 ing down so far into the Nave, 
 
 and by Blore’s screen being thrown across the entire width, giving a 
 double distance to the upper portion of the Choir and Sanctuary, until 
 the vista dimly ends in the eastern windows. The most striking fact, 
 which is not apparent in many other Cathedrals and Abbeys, is the 
 carefulness with which the builders, who added piecemeal to the Abbey 
 during several centuries, faithfully continued the leading lines of the 
 design of Henry III. The casual observer, unacquainted with the 
 ttle details which form the history of Architecture, would never ENON 
 
 16 
 
 
 

 
 Westminster Abbey, 
 
 discover the fact, as he enters at the west end, that the Nave arches imme- 
 
 diately on his right and left are centuries older than the extreme end of the 
 Church. The whole appears to be the design and execution of one master- 
 And here we see a striking faculty of those Architects of the middle 
 centuries, who could all build, not for their own gratification, but in 
 furtherance of the noble works of men who had gone before them. 
 
 mind, 
 
 width. 
 dim 
 from 
 Triforium, which is unquestionably the 
 fines 
 
 
 
 in existence ; and higher still to 
 nat remarkable Clerestory, which is in 
 
 
 
 t 
 such magnificent proportion to the 
 
 eatures below it. If we compare closely 
 
 f 
 
 the most western bays with those nearing 
 the crossing, we detect with some 
 d 
 d 
 
 ifficulty that the only difference is in the 
 
 
 
 etail of moulding here and there, and 
 
 
 
 ST. JOHAN. 
 
 
 
 The great charm of Westminster is its noble height in comparison with its 
 As one stands upon the floor of the Nave, and looks upward into the 
 neights of that fine vaulting, one can watch the mounting up of detail 
 
 those magnificent Nave piers and superb Nave arcading to the 
 
 ’ 
 
 
 
 t 
 
 
 
 ST. ROCHE. 
 
 not quite so elaborate ; but beyond this 
 
 of the arches, and the 
 
 details of 
 identically similar throughout the ent 
 virtue, the value of which it is impossi 
 
 Edward determined to go “one be 
 
 a@®in the earlier work. 
 
 on 
 
 dispenSe@ with. 
 
 w 
 
 ST. EDWARD. 
 
 DRAWN BY W. 
 
 hat the shafting to the 
 
 Nave piers is not detached, 
 
 We 
 
 hall notice also that the 
 
 spandrels of the arcading 
 
 ré plain—the diaper work 
 
 a 
 of ‘the earlier period being 
 
 We shall 
 
 ee that the cusps and 
 
 bosses of the groining are 
 
 , all the lines, the contours 
 he Triforium are almost 
 All this is a 
 Had 
 (or worse) than his 
 
 ire Church. 
 le to over-estimate. 
 tere? 
 
 
 
 distinguished father, he would have 
 
 been the means of utterly 
 
 
 
 ruining the uniformity and the grandeur of one of the finest 
 
 Churches in the kingdom. 
 
 But he knew better than that, and so 
 
 17 
 
 
 
 S. WEATHERLEY, 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 did the Abbots who came after him. 
 It is only when we get nearer to 
 modern times, and when we get closer 
 under the influence of modern minds, 
 or at any rate when we lose touch 
 with the high artistic character of the 
 best builders, that we endeavour to 
 neglect the rules then laid down, and 
 show the progression of Art in such 
 incongruities as Wren’s western towers. 
 We almost feel inclined to thank God 
 that the Nave of Westminster Abbey 
 was completed before his day. What 
 would have happened if Wren or 
 Hawksmoor had found themselves 
 called upon to add to or to complete 
 the interior of the Church, would be 
 too terrible for contemplation. It is 
 more apparent in Westminster than in 
 most Abbeys and Cathedrals that, 
 owing to the shortness of the eastern 
 
 
 
 
 
 arm of the Church, the Choir has been 
 
 
 
 brought down in the Nave four bays 
 beyond the crossing. Up to 1847 the 
 Choir was screened from both Tran- 
 septs, so that the view which is now 
 obtained from the north and south porches was 
 foreshortened. But Blore very wisely removed 
 these screens, and terminated the Nave end of 
 the Choir by the erection of the stone screen 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 oad ths xh ovens tag Dresn ae RTI see °F 
 
 
 
 
 
 A BAY OF THE CLOISTE*S MEASURED AND DRAWN BY 
 
 BURKE DOWNING. 
 
 18 
 
 
 
 DRAWN BY HERBERT RAILTON. 
 
 already mentioned, which we are, perhaps, not 
 sufficiently enamoured of. The Choir, therefore, 
 reaches from Edward the Confessor’s screen at the 
 east end, to Blore’s on the west. The organ at one 
 ime was built across the Nave, but it has for some 
 years been removed in two sections, occupying a 
 Nave arch on either side, which adds very greatly 
 o the scale of the interior. One must not forget to 
 ook at the very fine pavement of the Choir, which 
 was laid down at the cost of Dr. Busby, Master of 
 Westminster School, who was buried under it two 
 centuries ago. The mosaic pavement—or what is 
 eft of it—of the sanctuary shows very clearly that 
 Henry III. designed one of the most remarkable 
 pavements in existence. The old altar-piece, which 
 stood for more than a century, was a composition of 
 he Classical orders presumed to have been designed 
 by Inigo Jones, and given to the Church 
 by Queen Anne. But, although the entire 
 
 
 
 thing must have.been quite remarkable, 
 its existence in a purely Gothic Church 
 was intensely inharmonious. It was 
 Wyatt who removed it, and designed and 
 placed in position the more appropriate 
 Altar and screen which we see to-day. Curiously 
 to relate, the vaulting of the Choir proved to have 
 been of much inferior workmanship than other 
 portions of Henry’s work, but Wren, in his restor- 
 ation, put it into very excellent condition, and 
 it will be noticed that it is in character and quite 
 
 
 
 
 
aan eterna 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE CHAPTER HOUSE. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 DRAWN BY 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 W. H. WEATHERLEY 
 
 109 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 similar to the vaulting of other parts of the main 
 structure. When the Lantern, however, was rebuilt 
 by Wyatt, in 1803, the groining, for some reason 
 or another, was constructed of a plastic composi- 
 The bosses were gilt, 
 to correspond with the decoration of the eastern 
 
 tion, instead of stone. 
 portions, and, we believe, were “thrown up” from 
 the surfaces of the vaulting, by means of a little 
 decorative trickery, which, however, impossible of 
 detection from the Nave, only requires to be known 
 to be described as iniquitous. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 pages, that there is no western aisle to the South 
 Transept, but that the space between the roof of the 
 Cloisters and the floor of the Triforium level is used 
 as a muniment room, a view of which can be obtained 
 —from the Triforium of the eastern aisle—through 
 the tops of the arches which are open to the Transept. 
 
 A photograph shewing this is in our possession, but 
 
 was unfortunately 
 In the North Transept, 
 Chapels, dedicated to St. John, 
 . Andrew, but the screens dividing 
 
 oo poor for adequate reproduction. 
 he eastern aisle was originally 
 devoted to three 
 St. Michael, and S 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 eels 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 INTERIOR ELEVATION OF THE ENTRANCE 
 TO THE CHAPTER HOUSE. 
 
 Of the Transepts, Scott considered that the interior 
 design of the ends was ‘truly magnificent,” and he 
 doubts whether their equals could be found. It will 
 be noticed, from the plan which we publish in these 
 
 20 
 
 MEASURED AND DRAWN BY 
 ERNEST C. SHEARMAN. 
 
 one from the other have gradually disappeared or 
 been removed, so that the demarcations of the Chapels 
 no longer exist. The North Transept itself is 
 destroyed by the abundance of statues and monu- 
 
Westminster Abbey. 
 
 ments to the dead, detracting, in many instances, 
 from the scale of the Transept arcade, and making 
 altogether an incongruous mass of sculptural detail, 
 much to be regretted. It is not an altogether fortunate 
 thing that Westminster Abbey should have become, 
 by long custom and common consent, the national 
 Walhalla and the dumping-ground of so much 
 atrocious statuary. 
 
 Scott discovered that the original design for the 
 
 rose window in the 
 
 
 
 North Transept was 
 repeated, curiously 
 enough, on several of 
 the encaustic tiles in 
 the Chapter House, 
 and in his“ Gleanings” 
 he gives a restored de- 
 sign of the window, 
 
 based upon his dis- 
 covery. The sculpture 
 and the spandrels of 
 the Triforium, known 
 as the Angel arcading, 
 
 fine, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 are extreme y 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 and we have been 
 
 
 
 fortunate in obtaining 
 a very excellent photo- 
 
 
 
 graph of the principal 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 reproduced 
 The detail 
 drawing also, of the 
 Triforium of the South 
 Transept, wil 
 
 figure, 
 
 
 
 herewith. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 TIS 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 [HBTS 
 
 
 
 give an 
 
 
 
 
 writers of England, a few 
 artists in other media. 
 
 Upon the Poets’ Corner, Mr. W. J. Loftie speaks 
 very pertinently in his book upon the Abbey, and so 
 accurately does he portray our own feelings upon the 
 
 of its Architects, and 
 
 subject, that we shall offer no excuse for quoting him 
 fully. 
 
 “at the number of cenotaphs we see here. A cenotaph 
 
 “T confess to a feeling of weariness,” he says, 
 
 is defined as a monument of a person. buried else- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 adequate idea of the 
 
 
 
 aS) 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 remarkable beauty of 
 this portion of the 
 
 
 
 work. More than one 
 writer has dwelt upon 
 the extraordinary area 
 of the Triforium right 
 Church, 
 but it must be granted 
 
 oe 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 round the 
 
 37395) 
 
 Be 7) 
 
 that it was originally 
 intended for the ac- 
 commodation of vast 
 
 SE 
 
 “ag 
 
 concourses of people 
 were collected 
 
 Si. 
 
 who 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 together upon  cere- 
 monial occasions. The 
 construction of the 
 floor of the Triforium, 
 
 and the position of 
 
 
 
 the windows, which detract somewhat from the scale 
 of the exterior, go to prove that this was the case. The 
 South Transept has always been known as the Poets’ 
 Corner, and therein lie buried many of the poetical 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 SECTION LOOKING WEST, FROM THE ENTRANCE 
 TO THE CHAPTER HOUSE. 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 RTT 
 
 iS CS 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 MEASURED AND DRAWN BY 
 E. C, SHEARMAN. 
 
 
 
 where ; and the Poets’ Corner is crammed with such 
 
 memorials, and especially with busts. Ansley, Sharp, 
 
 Goldsmith, Coleridge, Thomson, Thackeray and 
 
 many others, are buried elsewhere ard have no need 
 21 
 
 
 

 
 iq 
 i 
 5 
 
 
 
 
 
 Westminster A bbey. 
 
 for representation here. This is especially true of 
 Shakespeare and Milton; the one sleeps in the 
 Church of St. Giles, Cripplegate, and the other at 
 Stratford-on-Avon. An opposite case is that of 
 Dr. Johnson, who, though he is buried here, has a 
 monument in St. Paul’s. The busts, set simply on 
 brackets, and not forming part of any architectural 
 composition, are also disagreeable to the eye in 
 proportion as, from their prominence, they intrude 
 themselves upon the sight. Keble’s absurd’ nude 
 dust ig not, as it should be, in Poets’ *@®Brner, but in 
 
 
 
 he Baptistery, which has, indeed, been sometimes 
 called the deputy Poets’ Corner. But in reality all 
 he monuments of poets here—Keble’s, Herbert's, 
 Cowper’s, Wordsworth’s and Kingsley’s—are ceno- 
 
 
 
 taphs. There is only a gravestone over Charles 
 Dickens, in the South Transept, and it is a pity his 
 body was not buried—as it is understood he wished 
 nimself—in Rochester Cathedral. Another very 
 
 
 
 ypical example of the professional literary men of 
 the generation just gone by was Lord Lytton, whose 
 grave is very near. He rests among princes and 
 princesses in the Chapel of St. Edmund.” It is an 
 extraordinary fact, and one extremely sad, that the 
 
 
 
 POETS’ CORNER (SOUTH TRANSEPT). 
 
 to 
 ie) 
 
 
 
 poets actually buried in Poets’ Corner died in the 
 most abject poverty. Chaucer—one of the first to be 
 buried here— fell into poverty in his old age.” 
 Spencer ‘‘died for lack of bread”; and yet he had 
 something like a public funeral. 
 
 The remarkably long and varied series of monu- 
 ments contained within this glorious Church, mark, 
 indeed, the resting-places of the most of them tha 
 have made the English tongue the strong and 
 nervous speech it is in this our time. They serve to 
 
 show, also, wherecourtiers and favourites, statesmen, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 musicians, actors} d,.men of science have been 
 
 
 
 laid, with the app®val%f their contemporaries, if 
 not always with that of posterity. Contemporary 
 opinion has often been too amiable, and to its neces- 
 sary want of historical perspective we owe the 
 inclusion within these storied walls of nonentities 
 not afew and notorieties too many and too outrageous 
 for sepulture in this place. The company of the 
 illustrious dead is not unmixed with those who have 
 no right in their society, and their monuments are 
 equally 
 
 Macaulay rests at the foot of Addison’s statue, and 
 near by are the simple inscriptions that mark where 
 
 
 
 fal 
 
 ivided between good and bad. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 DRAWN BY HERBERT RAILTON. 
 
 
 
Westminster Abbey. 
 
 two great Victorian poets—Tennyson and Browning 
 —lie. It is strange to reflect upon the numerous 
 actors and actresses buried here in the past century, 
 during periods in which their profession was in full 
 receipt of that contumely which branded the his- 
 trion as a rogue. Anne Oldfield died in 1730, and 
 was brought in state to the Jerusalem Chamber, and 
 buried, with the utmost pomp, at the west end of the 
 Nave, in (to quote the testimony of her maid, Eliza- 
 beth Saunders) “a very fine Brussels lace head, a 
 Holland shift, and double ruffles 
 
 and a new pair of kid gloves.” 
 
 of the same lace, 
 Fhis was not lost 
 upon that malicious satirist, Pope, who wrote :— 
 “« Odious ! in woollen! ‘twould a saint provoke,’ 
 
 Were the last words that poor Narcissa spoke ; 
 
 ‘No, let a charming chintz aud Brussels lace 
 
 Wrap my cold limbs, and shade my lifeless face ; 
 
 
 
 One would not, sure, be frightful when one’s dead— 
 
 And—Betty—give this cheek a little red.’” 
 
 Anne Bracegirdle, the most popular actress of her 
 time, died in 1748, and lies in the East Cloister ; 
 Mrs. Cibber in the North. “ Cibber 
 
 claimed Garrick, “then Traged 
 
 dead!” ex- 
 
 y expired with her.” 
 Betterton, ‘the Roscius of 
 
 male actor buried in the Ab 
 
 his age,” was the first 
 bey, May 2nd, 1710; and 
 the first whose name has come down familiarly to 
 our own time was Samuel Foote, who pleased Doctor 
 ohnson against his will—<t 
 
 
 
 he dog was so very 
 
 comical, sir, he was irresistible !” This was in 1777. 
 
 Two years later came that “stroke of death which 
 
 eclipsed the gaiety of nations and impoverished the 
 
 public stock of harmless pleasures.” Garrick was 
 
 dead. He was buried at the foot of Shakespeare’s 
 
 
 
 statue, and his monument towers aloft on the oppo- 
 
 
 
 site wall. To it Charles Lamb refers: “Taking a 
 he Abbey the other day, I was struck with 
 
 the affected altitude of a figure which, on examina- 
 
 urn in t 
 
 ion, proved to be a whole length representation of 
 rated Mr. Garrick. 
 go so far, wit 
 
 he cele Though I would not 
 h some good Catholics abroad, as to 
 shut players altogether out of consecrated ground, 
 
 yet I own I was a little scandalised at the introduc- 
 
 
 
 
 
 ion of theatrical airs and gestures into a place set 
 
 apart to remind us of the saddest realities. Going 
 
 nearer, I found inscribed under this harlequin figure 
 
 a farrago of false thoughts and nonsense.” 
 
 Among musicians, Purcell is foremost. He was 
 
 organist of the Abbey, and died in 1695. He lies in 
 the North Aisle of the Choi 
 which under his hands had filled 
 The Latin 
 Opposite lies John Blow, his suc- 
 cessor as organist, and succeeding him William 
 Croft. Above 
 it is his monument, by Roubiliac, with that fine 
 
 r, close to that organ 
 hese vaulted roofs 
 so long with melody. inscription of his 
 
 tomb is effaced. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Handel’s grave is in Poet’s Corner. 
 
 
 
 inscription, “1 know that my Redeemer liveth.” 
 ) y 
 
 Artists, by some wicked disposition of ironic 
 circumstance, find no resting-place at Westminster, 
 and only one is represented here—and that merely 
 by a cenotaph, for Kneller’s monument does not 
 St. Paul’s 
 enshrines the artists, who would, surely, much prefer, 
 could they have the choice, to rest in this 
 fane, rather than under the heavy, uninspiring Classic 
 
 cover his body, which is laid elsewhere. 
 
 soaring 
 
 
 
 Architecture of St. Paul’s. Of Architects and sculp- 
 tors, the graves of Sir William Chambers and Wyatt, 
 and the monument of Taylor are in the South Tran- 
 sept, and the tablet of Banks in the North Aisle ; 
 while in the Nave lies Sir Charles Barry, whose 
 grave is covered with a very odd modern attempt at 
 a monumental brass. Perhaps it was not to be 
 expected that 1860 could produce anything more 
 nearly in touch with Gothic work. 
 
 Sir Isaac Newton, who died March 28th, 1727, is 
 buried in the Nave, in front of the entrance to the 
 Choir. 
 which the more sacred recesses of the Church were 
 Dean Stanley very oddly 
 his was the interment of “the only dust of 
 
 The selection of this spot marks the time at 
 considered to be closed. 
 says that t 
 unquestionably world-wide fame that the floor of 
 Westminster covers.” The physicians and men of 
 science here are many, but few of their names mean 
 much to the present generation. The remains of 
 John Hunter, the famous surgeon, who died in 1773, 
 were transferred from the Church of St. Martin-in- 
 the-Fields to the Abbey in 1859, by Frank Buckland, 
 
 who searched sixteen days in the dreary catacombs 
 
 
 
 of that edifice for the bones of that founder of scien- 
 tific surgery before he found them. 
 
 James Watt, the engineer, is not buried at West- 
 minster, but a gigantic statue of that “Improver of 
 Of 
 all the monuments in the Abbey, this, perhaps, is 
 
 the Steam Engine,” by Chantry, is his memorial. 
 
 the one which provokes the loudest execrations from 
 those who look for uniformity of design with the 
 Gothic Architecture of the place. Near by sleep 
 those mighty men of science who have made this era 
 ie 
 
 With their inclusion within the Abbey’s 
 
 of steam and railways : ford, Robert Stephenson, 
 and Brunel. 
 solemn bounds the functions of her guardianship are 
 become, what, perhaps, they never were before, 
 
 truly national. 
 
 Well may the pavement 
 as the enormous monster 
 disclosed to the eyes of 
 
 rave cracked and yawned 
 moved into its place, and 
 the astonished workmen 
 
 
 
 rows upon rows of gild 
 
 ed coffins in the vaults 
 
 beneath, into which, but for the precaution of plank- 
 the 
 descended, joining the dead in the chamber of death. 
 
 ing area, workmen and work must have 
 
 Well may the standard-bearer of Agincourt, and the 
 worthies of the Courts of Elizabeth and James have 
 started from their tombs if they could have seen this 
 
 2) 
 
 
 

 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 colossal champion of a new plebeian art enter 
 their aristocratic resting-place, and take up his 
 position in the centre of the little Sanctuary, regard- 
 less of all proportion or style in all the surrounding 
 objects. 
 
 The romance of history, even in times comparatively 
 recent, is recalled by the bust of Pascal Paoli, the 
 n independence, who died in 
 
 
 
 - champion of Cors 
 1802, in his eighty-second year, far from his native 
 island, for which he struggled so desperately, and to 
 
 But out- 
 
 hese walls, in the Cloister’s humble space, lie 
 
 which his remains were removed in 1867. 
 
 
 
 side 
 
 many unrecorded retainers of the Court and of the 
 
 
 
 ) 
 
 Hercules. He was the “Prince of Prizefighters’ 
 in his time, a time which ended in 1789; and a 
 blank space was left on his tombstone, after his name, 
 which was to have been filled up with the words 
 “Champion of England.” But the Dean objected, 
 and the space has yet to be filled. 
 
 In this instance we are at one with the dignified 
 clergy, for it would have been nothing less than a 
 scandal, thus to have handed down to posterity 
 this record of the Prize Ring, within the shadow 
 of the great Minster. The surprising thing is. to 
 find, in these godless times, anyone objecting to 
 
 anything of the kind. But, nowadays, we have 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE NAVE FROM THE WEST 
 
 Chapter. One there is, indeed, whose virtues are 
 set forth at some pains, one William Laurence, who 
 
 died in 1621 :— 
 
 “With diligence and trust most exemplary, 
 Did William Laurence serve a Prebendary 
 And for his paines now past, before not lost, 
 Gain'd this remembrance at his master’s cost. 
 O read these lines againe: you seldome find 
 A servant faithful, and a master kind. 
 Short-hand he wrote : his flowre in prime did fade, 
 
 And hasty Death short-hand of him hath made 
 
 Well covth he slumbers, and well mesur’d land ; 
 
 Thus doth he now that ground whereon you stand, 
 
 Wherein he lyes so geometricall : 
 
 Art maketh some, but this will nature all.” 
 
 Another is that of John Broughton, one of the 
 Yeomen of the Guard. He was aman of gigantic 
 strength, and in his youth sat to Rysbrach for his 
 
 24, 
 
 
 
 DRAWN BY HERBERT RAILTON. 
 
 swung the pendulum of taste violently the other 
 way; the literature of epitaphs is severely over- 
 looked in town or country, and even such as that to 
 William Laurence are impossible. 
 
 Before we come to review the exterior of the 
 Abbey Church and its precincts, a few details of the 
 materials used in its construction during the centuries 
 will be of paramount interest and value to all 
 Architects, and to not a few of those intellectual 
 laymen who find a keen pleasure in sifting the actual 
 history of our Churches. Mr. Alfred Waterhouse, 
 R.A., is an authority upon “ material,” and we cannot 
 do better than quote his description of the 
 be found in the Abbey. That most largely used was 
 the green sandstone, called “firestone ” 
 
 stone to 
 
 rom its 
 
 “ Godstone” in 
 Surrey—a name implying the sacred use 
 
 the stone was put. 
 
 resistance to fire. It came from 
 
 
 
 o which 
 It was of a fine warm greenish- 
 

 
 ‘IdASNVYL AHL AO NOILVUYOLSAU S,NOSUVAd “YW 
 
 
 
 
 
 NIMAHS—LNOUI HLYON AHL 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
Westminster Abbey. 
 
 yellow tone, and easily worked. Associated with it 
 was chalk-from the lower beds at Merstham in the 
 same county—an excellent material when kept from 
 damp, most perishable when subjected to it. The 
 good effect of colour produced in the filling in of the 
 vaults, both in the Cloisters and the Church itself, is 
 due to the alternate banding of these stones. In 
 addition, the curious in such matters may find tufa, 
 a coarse, loosely-compacted, and very light limestone, 
 used in the east wall of the dormitory, where the 
 Westminster boys now 
 
 
 
 have their gymnasium. Caen 
 stone was also used, or an oolite from Normandy 
 very like Caen, which was really one of the most 
 easily procurable stones for building in London, 
 owing to difficulties of land transit in those days. 
 In addition to the firestone, the chalk, the tufa, and 
 he Normandy oolite, which appear to have been 
 used by the great builders of the Abbey—Edward, 
 Henry III. and his successors—Purbeck marble was 
 argely employed for the detached shafts 
 quently for both bases and capitals, sometimes also 
 
 or the piers 
 
 
 
 and fre- 
 
 
 
 hemselves, although, owing to its 
 extreme hardness, it was seldom used when elaborate 
 carving was intended. There is a notable exception 
 o this in the centre pier to the Chapter House, 
 which has a splendidly carved capital in Purbeck. 
 The old 
 in colour than that now to be obtained. A sample of 
 he original polish still lingers in the Chapel of St. 
 Michael, North Transept. 
 
 into the 
 
 Purbeck was much richer and more varied 
 
 
 
 It was introduced also 
 
 
 
 pavements, for steps, and played an impor- 
 tant part in the priceless pavements of the Shrine of 
 the Confessor and the Sacrarium. 
 
 Abbot Litlington, in the fourteenth century, appears 
 Roche Abbey stone, and Abbot Islip, 
 in the sixteenth, an oolite from Oxfordshire, in the 
 
 to have used 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE ANGEL TRIFORIUM (NORTH TRANSEPT). 
 north-west tower. In the upper part of the western 
 towers, rebuilt by Sir Christopher Wren, Portland 
 stone was employed. The stone, though too cold in 
 durability in London, and 
 the six western Clerestory windows on the south 
 But the 
 
 surveyors of the Abbey—says Mr. Waterhouse 
 
 colour, is unequalled for 
 
 side were rebuilt externally with it in 1730. 
 after 
 
 
 
 Wren, Dickinson (who restored the great rose window 
 in the North Transept) 
 have employed, in their day, the Oxfordshire stone. 
 the 
 ex- 
 
 and Tufnel, are said to 
 
 It was the last-named who scraped off 
 
 exposed surface of the stone 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ternally, to get rid of the decay, 
 
 
 
 thereby destroying the contour of the 
 
 mouldings, reducing their size and 
 effect, and 
 to the corroding air, leading to the 
 
 necessity, 
 
 by exposing another surface 
 
 in our 
 the 
 
 day, of replacing 
 
 much of masonry with entirely 
 
 new work to save the fabric from 
 
 
 
 
 
 utter ruin. In the restoration of the 
 Cloisters, Scott used Ketton or Mans- 
 stone in the south 
 walk, Bath 
 
 for the front of the buttresses on the 
 
 field Woodhouse 
 
 
 
 walk, Tadcaster in the wes 
 
 north side of the Nave, Tisbury in the 
 
 Chapter House, and Chilmark else- 
 
 where. Westminster Abbey, there- 
 
 fore, may justly be considered a 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE TRIFORIUM OF THE NAVE, 
 
 geological museum of the greatest 
 interest, as it enables us to watch the 
 
 27 
 
 
 
——————eEeEEE—EeEeeeeeeoee ee 
 
 
 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CHAUCER'S TOMB. 
 
 effect of the climate of London on almost every de- 
 scription of building stone in general use, except 
 the sandstone so much used in the North. 
 
 Sir Gilbert gives a striking instance of the effect of 
 When 
 he was engaged in the rebuilding of the Chapter 
 House he came across some ashlar of Henry III.’s 
 time, with delicate mason’s marks which had been 
 exposed for three centuries without any deterioration 
 and afterwards cased with brickwork. These iden- 
 tical stones were used on the same spot by Sir 
 Gilbert, but with their surfaces exposed to the air, 
 and in less than one year the whole of the marks had 
 disappeared, thanks to the sulphurous atmosphere of 
 London in general and the Lambeth potteries in 
 
 the London atmosphere upon building stone. 
 
 
 
 particular, 
 THE EXTERIOR: 
 
 We have now to deal with-the exterior of the 
 Church, having reversed the usual order of things by 
 leaving to the last that which is the least interesting 
 portion of the Abbey of Westminster. There is 
 naturally not an atom of the external work of 
 Henry III. now left, or of those abbots who came 
 after him and who added to the fabric which he 
 himself commenced; neither have we any proof, 
 beyond the supposition that bases itself upon the 
 
 28 
 
 
 
 DRAWN BY HERBERT RAILTON. 
 
 probable, that the restorers or re- 
 pairers of the centuries copied the work 
 previously. On these 
 grounds alone the external aspect of the 
 fabric is far less interesting, and far less 
 worthy of study than that glorious in- 
 that 
 magnificent fascination. 
 “How many a sacred pile in this fair land, 
 Touched, and re-touched by some,unholy hand, 
 A modern motley garb, incongruous wears, 
 Veiling the venerable form of years.” 
 
 which existed 
 
 terior, never seems to lose its 
 
 There is really no point from’ which 
 a good view of the Abbey can be obtained. 
 From the north-east the Church of ‘St. 
 Margaret entirely blocks the way, al- 
 though it adds scale to the Mother Church. 
 From the north-west one gets a fairly 
 good sweep of the west front, the western 
 towers, and the North Aisle. From the 
 south no view is possible except the 
 picturesque glimpse from Dean’s yard, 
 so beautifully depicted in the drawing 
 which appears on p. 6. 
 
 The new view opened up by the de- 
 molition of the old houses previously 
 Corner certainly ex- 
 
 existing in Poets’ 
 
 poses the fine Chapter House, but very 
 little else. .-The 
 the east end of 
 good elevation of which can be obtained, 
 
 east end is, of course, 
 Henry VII.’s Chapel, a 
 
 and. the “exuberant luxuriance” 
 difficulty. 
 
 of which may 
 “Tt would 
 the exterior of 
 
 also be Studied without 
 seem,” says one early writer on 
 this Chapel, ‘‘as though the Architect had intended 
 to give the stone the character of embroidéry ; and 
 enclose his walls within:the meshes of lace!work.” 
 With the exception of the plinth, every ‘part is 
 covered by sculptural .decorations; the buttress 
 by ornamental domes, and 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 towers crested 
 enriched by niches and elegant 
 springers are perforated with airy forms; and the 
 cornices and parapets charged, even to profusion, 
 entwined foliage. 
 
 Transept we have the 
 We are 
 
 are 
 
 
 
 racery ; the cross 
 
 with armorial cognizances and 
 
 In the front of the North 
 most interesting bit of exterior 
 enabled to put, side by side with each other, engrav- 
 ings of this front previous and subsequent to its 
 restoration. The old engraving gives us the eleva- 
 tion after all the restorers, up to Wyatt, had put their 
 The later view shows what Scott in 
 
 work. 
 
 touch upon it. 
 a small measure and Pearson ina greater 
 completed. The fagade itself may be described as 
 consisting horizontally of four compartments. The 
 central and western porches open into the Transept, 
 the eastern being a “blind” entry, filled by a 
 panelling of trefoil arches-resting on slender columns, 
 
 began and 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
‘IdASNVUL HLAOS ‘AAVONV WOAIMOATYL 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 LHI 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 als fcenay, YNOS 2 Pay SPealp) cu ply 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 AQKC YY IDISAUCYICOAA. 
 
 
 
 
 
 \ 
 ‘ 
 ( 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Westminster Abbey. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE CHANTRY OF HENRY V. DRAWN BY REGINALD T 
 
 A detail of the 
 central porch is given on another page, and it must 
 be admitted—laymen’s opinion to the contrary not- 
 withstanding—that this is about the finest piece of 
 
 much of which is Wren’s work. 
 
 ’? known. 
 
 “restoration ’ It will be easy to detect 
 where Mr. Pearson has departed from the “ design ”’ 
 of this front as he found it, and, except in one 
 instance, departed from it with very excellent success. 
 
 ” 
 
 The curved gable “hood” of the central porch he 
 discarded with great good judgment. The cresting 
 over the second “compartment” he removed with 
 much excellent effect ; the terminations of the butt- 
 resses he “restored,” in keeping with the others on 
 the north side of the Church ; and altered the great 
 rose window—unhappily we think —into quite 
 different detail, unrestful detail which compares but 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ill with the simple but dignified tracery of Wren’s 
 1722, 
 shown in the older engraving, whether it was a 
 The gems of this front are the 
 porches and the colonnade arches, which are fully 
 
 design. We much prefer the window of 
 
 replica or not. 
 
 
 
 proportioned, and evidently follow the “scheme” 
 of the reforms in the interior. 
 
 The north side of the Nave and Aisle exterior is 
 supported by nine graduated buttresses which 
 terminate in pyramids, from which a double tier of 
 flying buttresses springs. The parapet of the Aisle is 
 battlemented, and at this level the buttresses possess 
 niches in which statues of the benefactors of this 
 
 part of the work were originally placed. What 
 
 
 
 statues now exist are modern. Between 
 every two buttresses is a large, pointed 
 arched window, divided by a mullion 
 into the compartments below and above 
 by tracery, into circular and quatrefoil 
 lights reaching to the crown of the 
 arch, and having smaller lights in the 
 angles, Another range of windows, 
 each consisting of three circles in- 
 scribed within a triangle, extends over 
 the former range, and rises to the water 
 tables of the under part of the Aisle 
 battlements. 
 
 
 
 A third and upper range 
 
 ( 
 
 f£ windows, of corresponding character 
 with those first described, but not of 
 
 equal height, forms the Clerestory, an 
 embattled parapet terminating all. 
 
 The west front, shown in the fine 
 engraving, from a photograph specially 
 
 
 
 taken, consists of a deeply recessed 
 
 
 
 entrance porch, having a large and 
 elegant pointed arched window above, 
 and the square towers at the angles to a 
 The Architectural 
 
 anomalies displayed in this front are 
 
 height of 225 feet. 
 BLOMFIELD. 
 
 peculiarly remarkable, and they are 
 still more apparent in the towers than in the 
 central divisions. This arises from the heightening 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 IN THE CHOIR, 
 
 of the towers and the other alterations com- 
 
 menced in 1697. The credit of completing the 
 
 31 
 e) 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE EAST END FROM THE CHOIR. 
 
 west front as i 
 
 Ab 
 
 fin 
 
 wrote Wren, “t 
 fec 
 still 
 
 of 
 
 carried to an equal 
 
 of 
 in 
 do 
 
 the 
 
 to 
 of 
 
 bots Estney and 
 ished till the time 
 hat 
 t, the one much 
 too low for bel 
 
 he roof above t 
 
 il 
 
 an 
 
 he Nave roof, s 
 
 
 
 
 
 he stone work 
 ne to strengthen 
 pediment is only 
 be of stone.” Fr 
 Sir Christopher 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 S; 
 
 anciently appeared is due to the 
 
 slip, but it was never entirely 
 
 of George II. “It is evident,” 
 
 the two towers were left imper- 
 
 higher than the other ; though 
 which are stifled by the height 
 
 hem ; they ought, certainly, to be 
 height, one story above the ridge 
 
 continuing the Gothic manner 
 
 d tracery. Something must be 
 
 he west window which is crazy ; 
 
 
 
 boarded but ought undoubtedly 
 
 ‘om the “draughts and models” 
 his front was subsequently com- 
 
 pleted, and the towers carried up to their present 
 elevation, and they furnish a memorable example of 
 his failure to assimilate the principles of Grecian 
 
 Architecture to those of the Pointed Style 
 * We think a very striking fact 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 y be drawn from the work of those great 
 ‘ 
 
 Architects who, in their time, were intimately connected with Westminster Abbey, 
 and who, each in their own particular style, created works of which we are now 
 very proud, Nothing could have been more disastrous than Wren's attempt to add 
 two Western Towers to a Gothic Church, excent, perh tps, Scott's idea of a Classic 
 
 building, as depicted in the Foreign Office. 
 
 Had only time and_ circumstance 
 
 reversed this order of things and given the Towers to Scott and the Foreign Office 
 
 to Sir Christopher ! 
 
 It would be interesting to hear what that delightful literary 
 
 man, Frederick Harrison, would do with these Western Towers when decay and 
 
 desolation come upon them. 
 
 Would he cail in an engineer to save them, or would 
 
 he ask some reputable Architect to replace them with something less incongruous | 
 
 —F 
 
 ‘DITOR, 
 
 32 
 
 The south side of the Abbey Church ex- 
 
 he walls of the 
 
 he South Aisle 
 westward from 
 
 of this 
 
 
 
 Pearson, but the 
 is far less elegan 
 
 one. 
 between 
 
 recently thrown open. 
 
 window is far more in 
 the North Transept. The old window, which 
 Sir Christopher 
 “well rebuilt” forty years before the date of 
 his report to Bishop At 
 
 ake the thrust 
 vaulting in a seri 
 buttresses, the up 
 right over the Cloister and Aisle. 
 exterior 
 
 hibits many singular peculiarities, arising 
 from the contiguity of the cloisters and the 
 ingenuity that was necessary in supporting 
 
 Nave and the thrusts of the 
 
 vaulting beyond the Cloisters, which adjoin 
 
 The first six buttresses, 
 he South Transept, have 
 
 heir bases within the Cloister green, and 
 
 of the Nave and Aisle 
 es of four immense flying 
 permost of which extends 
 The whole 
 portion of the Church, 
 
 ogether with the external front of the 
 Cloister, and cer 
 
 Transept have just been restored by Mr. 
 
 ain portions of the South 
 
 
 
 ront of the South Transept 
 
 
 
 than that of the northern 
 
 There is no entrance porch, the space 
 the four 
 occupied by the Chape 
 
 huge buttresses being 
 of St. Blaise, but 
 The great 
 ricate than that in 
 
 rose 
 
 mentions as having been 
 
 
 
 erbury, had become 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE NIGHTINGALE TOMB IN THE NORTH TRANSEPT 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 = 
 
 aos, 
 
 
 
 i) 
 a 
 
 
 
 eeree 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ie 
 zs 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 6he 
 Goons 
 oOo er 
 
 =(DIDSGER, 
 ABBEY. 
 
 ° =} 
 
 JRYMeER ve VAIENCAE . ny Ggnesé C.Shearwan. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 eo | | 
 1 Fe fed ee ee eee | 
 | ! | 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 a 
 
 FRon6 co SACRARIU@ Mensur § DRAan 
 
 
 
 
 C-HENTSCHEL SE 
 
 
 
 THE TOMB OF AYMER DE VALENCE 
 
 
 
 w 
 ws) 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE NAVE LOOKING EAST.—SHEWING BLORE’S SCREEN AND THE NAVE POLPIT. 
 
 so ruinous as to be dangerous. Dean Vincent and 
 the Chapter therefore gave orders for its restoration, 
 and the present window was constructed under the 
 superintendence of Benjamin Wyatt, by Gayfere, on 
 whose ability it certainly reflects great credit. One 
 word upon the Cloisters, where every “Architectural” 
 youngster has sat and dreamed the dream of the days 
 when he should follow Pearson and be called upon 
 to restore the hallowed spot. The southern arm, 
 which is illustrated here, is erected against the old 
 Refectory. At the west end—at the point where our 
 view is taken—is the chief entrance from Dean's 
 Yard. On two of the keystones of the vaulting is 
 
 34 
 
 just decipherable the initials N. L., for Nicholas 
 Litlington, and a shield sculptured with his arms. 
 
 The East Cloister is the most irregular, though the 
 most elaborate in its sculpture. It has eight divisions 
 on the east side and six on the west, not any two of 
 which are precisely similar. The five arches towards 
 the north are very massive, as they support the 
 western wall of the South Transept, in which it will 
 be remembered the Cloister takes the place of what 
 otherwise should have been an Eastern Aisle- 
 From this Cloister are the entrances to the Chapter 
 House, the Chapel of the Pyx, and the Little 
 Cloisters. 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CLOISTERS 
 
 OF 
 
 WALK 
 
 
 
 THE SO 
 
 
 

 
 ‘NEUVIOW “L Ad NMVUG GNV GayaASvaW 
 
 
 
 IMbe 
 
 LoL Gulyo 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 O] UO1IIDEC jELPNyLGUo7} 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 :SUdISIOF 10 
 
 [Q\SeF] OM |: 
 
 
 
 GB yoysu ILLUS 
 
 
 

 
 ‘NHAVI OW “L Ad NMVUC GNV dayonsvaw 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ® 
 
 <SADISIOF A YPErny UWoL:sAeg U42ISOT OM |: 
 KO B AOISUILUISIAA, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 7 
 

 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE NORTH TRANSEPT, BEFORE SIR GILBERT SCOTT'S RESTORATION. 
 
 From the North Cloister are the two doors into 
 the South Aisle of the Nave of the Church, one of 
 which, including the bay in which it stands, is 
 detailed in Mr. McLaren’s measured drawings. 
 
 Not always has Saint Peter’s Abbey of Westminster 
 been well cared for. Neglect was its portion in the 
 godless years of the eighteenth century, and the 
 boys of Westminster School were allowed to skip 
 from tomb to tomb in the Confessor’s Chapel. The 
 38 
 
 vergers, too, whiled away the tedious hours of their 
 office by playing football, and the whole length of 
 the building, from Poets’ Corner to the western 
 doors, was a public thoroughfare. A Chapter order 
 of May 6th, 1710, mentions the ‘ Appointment of 
 a constable to restrain divers disorderly beggars daily 
 walking and begging in the Abbey and Cloisters, and 
 many idle boys daily coming into the Cloisters, who 
 there play at cards and cther plays for money, and 
 
 
 
 
 
Westminster Abbey. 
 
 are often heard to curse and swear.” One of the 
 Minor Canons, who preached most often on Sundays, 
 made it by week-days a pot-house. He sat in one of 
 the Royal Chapels, with a tankard of ale beside him, 
 in receipt of threepences from the curious visitors to 
 that portion of the Church. 
 
 The statues in the tabernacle3 that decorate the 
 
 exterior of Henry the Seventh’s Chapel were taken 
 
 down, lest they should fall on Members of Parliament 
 who passed by to St. Stephen’s. 
 
 And yet, while these barbarisms were being perpe- 
 trated by those to which the Abbey should have 
 been the most precious charge, a tender feeling for 
 this historic fane was springing up among the 
 
 lieges in general. 
 of Elizabeth 
 
 Even so far back as the times 
 and James the First, distinguished 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 DETAILS OF THE NORTH PORCH 
 
 RESTORED BY SIR GILBERT SCOTT 
 
 i 
 No} 
 
 
 
Westminster Abbey. 
 
 foreigners visiting these shores were taken “in 
 gondolas along the Thames to the beautiful and 
 large Royal Church called Westminster,” to see ‘the 
 Chapel built eighty years ago by King Henry the 
 Seventh, the Royal Tombs, and the Coronation 
 Stone.” Even then “ guide books to the monuments 
 were printed, and sold by the vergers. 
 
 ised Got 
 a patron in days when it sorely neec 
 
 In Horace Walpole the generally desy 
 taste found 
 one. “I love Westminster Abbey,” he writes, “much 
 more than levées and circles, and—no treason, I hope 
 
 —am fond enough of Kings as soon as they have a 
 
 
 
 canopy of stone over them.” He prevented the 
 
 destruction of the beautiful tomb of Aymer de 
 
 Valence, when the Dean and Chapter had actually 
 
 
 
 consented to its removal in order to raise in its stead 
 a monument to 
 General Wolfe. 
 
 ture of the Abbey being 
 
 “the little red-haired Corporal,” 
 not prevent the Architec- 
 stultified by the gigantic 
 
 He could 
 
 
 
 Classical monuments of those great seamen, Earl 
 Howe, Blake, and Dundonald. It is curious that 
 Nelson, who fell with the 
 Abbey, or a glorious victory,” is buried in St. Paul’s. 
 
 Wale,” 
 tectural taste for which he was remarkable, “one 
 thinks not of the builder; the religion of the place 
 makes the first impression, and, though stripped of 
 
 aspiration ‘‘ Westminster 
 
 
 
 continues Walpole, with that fine Archi- 
 
 
 
 its shrines and altars, it is nearer converting one to 
 Popery than all the regular pageantry of Roman 
 
 
 
 domes. One must have taste to appreciate the 
 beauties of Grecian Architecture; one only wants 
 passion to feel Gothic.” 
 
 One thing we can never be sufficiently thankful 
 for. The Abbey seems to have entirely escaped the 
 whitewash brush that, immediately Gothic had fallen 
 into disuse, séems to have daubed almost every public 
 building in Europe. This is the one religious build- 
 ing in the kingdom that stands in its original finish- 
 ing, 
 
 with the proper hues of its stones displaying 
 
 themselves, mellowed only by time. 
 
 
 
 Westminster Abbey is the fortress of the Church 
 
 
 
 
 
 of England, the Dean and Chapter its garrison. 
 
 While it stands the Church remains, and, although 
 
 
 
 we know not what the future has in store for it, 
 
 
 
 surely never again will the desecrations that befell 
 in the past centuries be permitted to recur in those 
 yet to come. 
 
 
 
 And here we end the story of Westminster. If 
 elsewhere greater magnificence, and tales more softly 
 told impress us, our heart remains where it learned 
 those lessons not easy to forget. 
 
 The Aisle and fretted vault” of 
 Westminster mothered the 
 
 thousand years. Upon jer bosom men have forgotten 
 
 “Jong-drawn 
 have sorrows of a 
 the stress of life—the greed, the sickening disloyalty 
 of it. And yet amidst it all, within the influence of 
 the Abbey’s grace, how near we reach the everlasting 
 
 love and peace of God.