By the Rev. Arthur Fane. 51 
cusped trefoils meet at a centre, and the junction of the four sides 
forms a cross pattée of elegant design. The windows and exterior 
of the nave generally are inferior and certainly later than the 
chancel, especially on the north side, where the arches of the 
cloisters may be traced above the wall, and the malformation of 
the side aisle windows may be accounted for by the abstraction of 
the cloisters which formed an integral part of the original plan. 
On the north side of the church stood the conventual buildings, 
connected with the church by a continuous cloister. The traces of 
the abbot’s pond, the massive stone walls of the abbey gardens, 
and a majestic yew tree of colossal proportions, form a collection 
of objects which seem to complete the interest which the church 
itself must excite. 
But I must hasten to the inside. Here the decay and neglect 
of past ages form a sad contrast to the traces of glorious beauty 
with which this church must have been adorned when fresh from 
the chisel of William of Edington’s workmen. Pews unsightly 
and of all heights—the floor a chaotic plateau, with traces of 
stolen brasses and ruptured inscriptions—green and dank walls— 
a huge oven, similar to a brewing vat, to warm the church—the 
mutilated statuary of William of Edington—all speak of the wreck 
of magnificence and beauty caused by the hasty zealots of the 
Reformation, and of the apathy of many succeeding ages. Entering 
by a lofty southern porch, with a parvise or priest’s room above, 
we find the nave divided from the side aisles by six lofty arches on 
each side, under one of which is a singular altar tomb, of which I 
am able to present a drawing. The tomb seems to have combined 
a brass memorial to the dead, which has been removed by sacri- 
legious hands, with a small oratory wherein the priest might 
repeat the daily service for the souls of the departed. 
Resuming our walk through the nave, and hoping as we pass on 
_ that the day will come when the hand of restoration shall cleanse 
_ those noble pillars and arches from the three centuries’ white and 
ochre wash which cloaks their mouldings, begrimes their fair 
_ proportions, and disfigures the once beautiful stone—we arrive at 
the tower. Nothing can well be more graceful or elegant than 
H 2 
