The with pleasure the debasement of the Northern Porch. Wren family regarded the immense superiority of the Whitehall Banqueting House to Henry VII.'s Chapel as incontestable.' All manner of proposed changes were under discussion. One was to remove entirely the interesting Chapel of the Revestry, with the monuments of Argyll, Gay, and Prior.2 Another was to fill up the intercolumniations in the Nave with statues. The two first were already occupied by Captain Montague and Captain Harvey.3 The Chapter, in 1706, petitioned Queen Anne for the Altarpiece once in Whitehall Chapel, then at Hampton Court, which later on in the century was condemned as 'unpardonable, tasteless, and absurd;' and in erecting it, the workmen broke up a large portion of the ancient mosaic pavement, and, but for the intervention of Harley, Earl of Oxford, would have destroyed the whole. It was then proposed to remove the screen of the Confessor's Chapel, and to carry back the Choir as far as Henry VII.'s Chapel, 'huddling up the royal monuments to the body of the Church or the 'Transepts.' 5 4 8 6 The venerable Sanctuary disappeared in 1750. The Gatehouse, hardly less venerable, but regarded as 'that very dismal 'horrid gaol,' fell in 1777, before the indignation of Dr. Johnson, 'against a building so offensive that it ought to be 'pulled down, for it disgraces the present magnificence of the 'capital, and is a continual nuisance to neighbours and 'passengers.' The Clock-tower of Westminster Palace was a heap of ruins. In 1715 the Great Bell, which used to remind the Judges of Westminster of their duty, was purchased for St. Paul's Cathedral. On its way through Temple Bar, as if in indignation at being torn from its ancient home, it rolled off the carriage, and received such injury as to require it to be recast. The inscription round its rim still records that it came from the ruins of Westminster. The mullions of the Cloisters would have perished but for the remonstrance of the inhabitants of the neighbourhood. We have seen how narrowly the tomb of Aymer de Valence escaped at the erection of Wolfe's 1 Parentalia, p. 308. 2 Gent. Mag. 1772, xlii. 517. Malcolm, p. 175. 4 Seymour's Stow, ii. 541; Widmore, p. 165. Gent. Mag. 1799, pt, ii. p. 115; Walpole, vi. 223. Gwyn's London and Westminster (1766), p. 90. Chapter Order, July 10, 1776. See Chapter Book, March 3, 1708 8 See London Spy, p. 187. • Westminster Improvements, p. 15. See Chapter V. p. 346. 10 Six windows were already gone. (Gent. Mag. 1799, pt. i. p. 447.) monument, and how, at the funeral of the Duchess of Northumberland, the tomb of Philippa, Duchess of York, was removed to make way for the family vault of the Percys, and the screen of the Chapel of St. Edmund and the canopy of John of Eltham were totally destroyed.1 revival of mediæval art. Yet, amidst all this neglect and misuse, as we think it, a feeling for the Abbey more tender, probably, than had existed Gradual in the time of its highest splendour and wealth, had been gradually springing up. From the close of the sixteenth century we trace the stream of visitors, which has gone on flowing ever since. Already in the reign of Elizabeth and James I., distinguished foreigners were taken in gondolas to the beautiful and large Royal Church called 'Westminster,' and saw the Chapel built eighty years ago by King Henry VII.,' the Royal Tombs, the Coronation Stone, the Sword of Edward III., and the English ministers in white surplices such as the Papists wear,' singing alternately while the organ played. Camden's printed book on the Monuments was sold by the vergers. Possibly (we can hardly say more), it was in Westminster that the youthful Milton let his 6 1592. Due feet never fail To walk the studious cloisters pale, It is certain that, in the beginning of the next century, the feeling had generally spread. The coarse London Spy,' when he was conveyed from the narrow passage which brought him in sight of that ancient and renowned structure of the Abbey' to which he was an utter stranger, could not behold the outside of the awful pile without reverence and amazement. 'The 'whole seemed to want nothing that could render it truly ' venerable.' After going to afternoon prayers' in the Choir, amongst many others, to pay with reverence that duty which 'becomes a Christian,' and having their souls elevated by the 'divine harmony of the music, far above the common pitch of 'their devotions,' they made an entrance into the east end of 1 Gent. Mag. 1799, pt. ii. p. 733. 2 Rye's England as seen by Foreigners, pp. 9, 10, 132, 139. The choice lies between Westminster, Old St. Paul's, or King's College, Cambridge. 6 the Abbey, which was locked, and payed a visit to the venerable shrines and sacred monuments of the dead nobility;' and then ascended some stone steps, which brought them to a 'Chapel, that looks so far exceeding human excellence, that a 'man would think it was knit together by the fingers of angels, 'pursuant to the directions of Omnipotence." The testimony of Addison, Steele, and Goldsmith need not be repeated. Lord Hervey was taken by a Bishop 'to Westminster Abbey to show a pair of old brass gates to Henry VII.'s Chapel,' on which he enlarged with such particular detail and encomium' before George II. and Queen Caroline, that the intelligent Queen was extremely pleased and the King stopped the conversation 'short.' Burke 'visited the Abbey soon after his arrival in 'town,' and 'the moment he entered he felt a kind of awe pervade his mind, which he could not describe; the very 'silence seemed sacred.'2 Then arose the decisive verdict from an unexpected quarter. In Horace Walpole the despised mediæval taste found its first powerful patron. 6 Oh! happy man that shows the tombs, said I, I love was a favourite quotation of the worldly courtier. '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 was consulted by the successive Deans on the changes proposed in the Abbey. He prevented, as we have seen, the destruction. of Valence's tomb, and suggested an octagon canopy of open arches, like Chichester Cross, to be elevated on a flight of steps with the Altar in the middle, and semicircular arcades. 'to join the stalls, so that the Confessor's Chapel and tomb 'may be seen through in perspective.' In the whole building he delighted to see the reproduction of an idea which seemed to have perished. In St. Peter's at Rome one is convinced that it was built by great princes. In Westminster Abbey London Spy, p. 178. 2 Prior's Life of Burke, i. 39. The line is from l'ope's Imitation of Donne's Satire. Then, happy man who shows the Tombs!' said I, 'He dwells amidst the royal family; He every day from king to king can walk, 4 The original in Donne is this: 'At Westminster,' Said I, 'the man that keeps the Abbey-tombs, And, for his price, doth with whoever comes Of all our Harrys and our Edwards talk. From king to king and all their kin can walk. Your cars shall hear nought but kings; your eyes meet Kings only; the way to it is King's Street.' Suggested to Dean Pearce (Walpole's Letters, vi. 223), and to Dean Thomas (ibid. vii. 306.) .' one thinks not of the builder; the religion of the place makes the first impression, and, though stripped of its shrines and 'altars, it is nearer converting one to Popery than all the ' regular pageantry of Roman domes. One must have taste to be sensible of the beauties of Grecian architecture; one only 'wants passion to feel Gothic. Gothic churches infuse super'stition, Grecian temples admiration. The Papal See amassed its wealth by Gothic cathedrals, and displays it in Grecian 'temples.'1 6 2 In the last years of the eighteenth century, John Carter, the author of Ancient Sculptures and Paintings,' was the Old Carter, the Mortality of the past glories of Westminster. There antiquary. is a mixture of pathos and humour in the alternate lamentations over the 'excrescences which disfigure and destroy 'the fair form of the structure,' and the heartfelt satisfaction' with which he hangs over the remnants of antiquity still unchanged. He probably was the first to recognise the singular exemption of the Abbey from the discolouring whitewash which, from the close of the Middle Ages, swept over almost all the great buildings of Europe. There is one religious 'structure in the kingdom that stands in its original finishing, 'exhibiting all those modest hues that the native appearance of the stone so pleasingly bestows. This structure is the Abbey Church of Westminster. . . . There I find my happiness the most complete. This Church has not been white'washed.' In his complaints against the monuments setting at nought the old idea that the statues of the deceased should front the east,' and against the whimsical infatuation of their costumes; '5 in his ideal of the architect who should 'watch with anxious care the state of the innumerable parts of the pile;' in his protest against Queen Anne's altar-screen, as ill-calculated for its place as a mitre in the centre of a salt'cellar; ' in his enthusiastic visions of religious curiosities, 6 3 the Most Reverend Lord Don Pedro 'Gonzales de Mendoza, Cardinal of Spain, and all the Jews driven out 'from all the kingdoms of Castille, 'Arragon, and Sicily, this holy church repaired and whitewashed by Francis Ferdinand of Cuença, 'Archdeacon of Calatrava.' was myriads of burning tapers, clouds of incense, gorgeous vest'ments, glittering insignia, Scriptural banners '-we see the first rise of that wave of antiquarian, æsthetic, architectural sentiment which has since overspread the whole of Christendom. Its gradual advance may be detected even in the dry records of the Chapter, and has gone on, with increasing volume, to our own time. The Chapel of Henry VII., on the appeal of Dean Vincent, was repaired by Parliament. The houses on the north side of the Chapel were pulled down.3 He too removed the huge naval monuments which obstructed the pillars of the Nave.' The North Transept, at the petition of the Speaker, was for a time used 5 for a service for the children of the school in Orchard Street. Free admission was given to the larger part of the Abbey under Dean Ireland. The Transepts were opened to the Choir under Dean Buckland. The Nave was used for special evening services under Dean Trench. The Reredos, of alabaster and mosaic, was raised under the care of the Subdean (Lord John Thynne), to whose watchful zeal for more than thirty years the Abbey was so greatly indebted. Future historians must describe the vicissitudes of taste, and the improvements of opportunities, which may mark the concluding years of the nineteenth century. Two general reflections may close this imperfect sketch of Westminster Abbey before and since the Reformation : I. It would ill become those who have inherited the magnificent pile which has been entrusted to their care to undervalue the grandeur of the age which could have produced an institution capable of such complex development, and a building of such matchless beauty. Here, as often, other men have laboured, and we have entered into their labours.' Butcomparing the Abbots with the Deans and Headmasters of Westminster, the Monks with the Prebendaries, and with the Scholars of the College-the benefits which have been contomb. (Gent. Mag. 1799, pt. i. p. 880.) Gent. Mag. 1799, pt. ii. p. 861. 2 No monument was to be erected before submitting a draught of it to the Chapter. (Chapter Book, May 16, 1729.) The erection of Monk's monument was at first unanimously' prevented, as hiding the curious work manship of Henry VII.'s Chapel.' (Ibid. January 1, 1739.) No monument was henceforth to be attached to any of the pillars. (Ibid. June 6, 1807.) The shield and saddle of Henry V. were restored to their place over the King's 3 Chapter Book, 1804. Conti's Westminster, p. 268. liii. Vincent's Sermons, vol. i. Pref. p. |