IT is not easy to define exactly what is at the present day. There is the city, there is the parliamentary borough, there is the outlying division near Kensington-in short, has undergone many vicissitudes and changes, and has been influenced in turn by kings, by monks, by bishops, by parliaments, by courts of law, until we are compelled, if we would find the original , to commence our inquiries by going back more than a thousand years.

The name itself seems to tell us something. If we could be sure that it has always been " we might argue that the western monastery is later than St. Paul's, that St. Paul's was in existence as the eastern minster when St. Peter's was founded. But the first charter in which it is mentioned gives it three different names. Offa, of Mercia, in 785,[1]  making it a grant of land, calls it, first, St. Peter's; secondly, Thomey; thirdly, "Westminster." We cannot, therefore, found any argument or theory on this last form. St. Peter's speaks for itself. It is likely, on the whole, as we have seen in considering the dedications of city churches, that dedications to the apostles are older than dedications to

The second name is , and Thorney is spoken of as a "locus terribilis," a venerable place.[2]  It must, therefore, have been considered sacred, perhaps by long custom, perhaps on account of association with some eminent person. A king Sebert[3]  was invented later to account for this veneration. Widmore is very unwilling to put Sebert aside, but is obliged to conclude that the monastery was founded

about the time when Bede died, or between the years

730

and

740

;

Although the name of Thorney tells us nothing about the abbey, it tells us much about its site. The word " terribilis" in Offa's charter has indeed sometimes been supposed to refer to the nature of the place, a thorny

Thorney, according to a well qualified authority,[5]  was 470 yards long and 370 broad, and was washed by the Thames on the east; by a rivulet which ran down College Street on the south; by a streamlet which crossed King Street on the north; and by a moat called the Long Ditch, which united the two streams and ran along the line of Prince's and Delahay Streets. Stone walls defended the whole precinct, pierced by handsome gates, one of which was in King Street, one near New Palace Yard, one opening on Tothill Street,[6]  and one in College Street where stood the abbey mill. Bridges crossed the brooks, and are said to exist still, but far beneath the present streets, for Thorney has been raised about nine feet, on the average, above its ancient level.

How early our kings had a palace here we have no means of knowing. It may have preceded the monastery, as St. Margaret's may have preceded St. Peter's, but neither supposition is probable. The earliest reference to a palace is in the story of Canute's rebuking the tide, which some of the chroniclers have made to take place at .[7]  There is no contemporary evidence to go upon; and whatever of palace or monastery existed before the middle of the ninth century, disappeared later, and for many years lay in ruins, deserted even by the monks. The Danes were at large in Middlesex, and London Wall[8]  kept them out, but there was nothing to withstand them on Thorney, and when Dunstan became powerful under Edgar, the abbey was re-founded

First up from Temese, along Merfleotes, to pollene- stocce so to Bulunga fenn ; afterwards from the fenne along the old ditch to cuforde; from cuforde up along Teoburn to the wide herestreet; along the herestreet to the old stoccene of St. Andrew's Church, so into Lundene fenn; along south on Tamese in midstream; along the stream 'be lande and be strande' to Merfleote.

I have given the Saxon names in their original spelling. It is a question if we can identify the places mentioned. If we take a map which shows the undivided parish of St. Margaret, we find it bounded on the west and southwest by ; on the north by Oxford Street, as far as St. Giles's; on the east by St. Clement Danes. But from the evidence of this charter, there was apparently a time when all these boundaries were different. The Merfleet must, from its name, have been a tidal creek. Pollenstock speaks of an osier bed, or something like it. Bulunga Fen is a marshy place. All these conditions were fulfilled in the land which lies between Millbank and , though the old names are lost. From the reference to the Tyburn,

on midstream,

It will have been observed that with these boundaries the abbot had a larger tract eastward, and a smaller one westward than afterwards constituted the parish of St. Margaret. A great part of the city ward of Farringdon Without belonged to . There is no mention

The other end of the parish was extended. We saw[13]  that a second stream ran into the Thames to the westward of the Tyburn, the brook which is commemorated in the modern district of Westbourne. Shortly after the conquest Geoffrey de Mandeville gave the abbot of the land which lay between the Tyburn and the Westbourne, that is to say, all Hyde Park as far as the modern Serpentine and all the Thames bank between the modern King's Scholars' Pond Sewer, and the Ranelagh Sewer: and the northern and southern parts of this great accession of territory were divided into Ebury, or. Eybury and Hyde, both names being very likely derived from the same word Ey, or by which the manor is distinguished in Domesday. Furthermore the abbot acquired three other estates. Of and I shall speak in a subsequent chapter: but the manor of Neat, or Neyt, brought the boundary of St. Margaret's up to that of . This manor comprised all the land south and west of the Serpentine, most of Kensington Gardens, and the south side of the Kensington Road into High Street. Its boundaries are interesting. If we begin in the Uxbridge or Bayswater Road, we find the line runs down the ornamental water halfway to the bridge, thence passes westward through the

The notice of in the Domesday Book is apparently very precise, yet from the difficulty involved in all attempts to estimate exactly the modern value of a hide of land, it has caused much controversy among those learned in such matters. The hide in , a holding fairly well defined, contained seventy-nine acres. But in which comprised sixteen hides and a half, it must, if our geography is right, have been only seventyhides. The discrepancy maybe partially resolved by remembering that in there was more land than in occasionally, if not constantly submerged. Of the sixteen hides and a half which constituted

The abbot's manor contained all the elements of truly rural life. There were cottages and ploughs, cattle and hogs, meadow and woodland, but only twenty-five houses

of the abbot's knights and of other men.

Such was the estate which belonged to the abbey of at the beginning of the twelfth century. But disintegration was already in progress. In the eleventh century, at what exact date is not known, the

Some fragments of his work may still be identified. Among them are the arches which lead from the cloister southward to the school, which have a series of very curious ancient chambers of the same period adjoining them. The passage into Little Dean's Yard is modern,

There continued, however, an altar, called the for the parishioners in the abbey church. There

Although St. Margaret's cannot compete with the abbey church in its interesting associations, there is yet much to record of it. Restoration after restoration has removed every trace of antiquity from its walls. Even the churchyard, with its venerable gravestones, has been desecrated, the inscriptions obliterated or covered, and much that was curious or interesting destroyed. It is sad to think that such vandalisms should have been carried out within the past two years, and under the name of improvements. The work, indeed, was begun at a time when there was, if possible, even less reverence than at present for antiquity, for one of the earliest parliamentary grants for the repair of St. Margaret's was made the year after the execution of Charles I.[22]  There were further repairs several times before , which is the date on the leaden spouting; and in there was a vote of

There are a few names connected with St. Margaret's, however, that even the omnipotence of an act of parliament, or the marauding hand of the restorer, cannot quite obscure. It requires an effort of mind to remember in the new church such ancient worthies as Chaucer, Caxton, and Sir . Until last year there remained also a tangible memorial to . There is now only a memory, and he is as unreal at St. Margaret's as the other three. It would be curious to know if Caxton when he wrote with such warm admiration of Chaucer. was aware that the great poet lived close to St. Margaret's, in a house on the site of Henry VII.'s chapel, while he was clerk of the works at the abbey. It was in St. Margaret's that the heralds held their inquiry as to the Scrope and Grosvenor arms in , when Chaucer gave the evidence before them which has proved of such importance to his biographers.[23]  Caxton lived near the western end of the abbey, in a house called the which may be translated, perhaps, by which stood very near the spot marked now by the Crimean memorial column-a of red granite. He probably died in , as, though registers had not yet been invented, the churchwarden's accounts record the expenditure, midway between and , of 6s. 8d. for torches, and 6d. for bell ringing at the

bureyng of

William Caxton.

Although the probable site of his house is that which I have indicated, it must be remembered that before this quarter of the town was rased to the ground, the building which was locally called by his name, and which stood here, was not two hundred years old. It may, of course, have occupied an older site. The house of Caxton was in the Almonry. The Almonry was just here. Therefore, to put the matter in logical form, one of the houses on this site was his. Caxton was a member of the mercers' company, as we saw above.[25]  There were many houses in held by the company from the abbot, and he may, as Mr. Blades, his latest and best biographer asserts, have hired one of them. This is by no means certain.[26]  Nor is it as certain as Mr. Blades would wish us to believe that this was Caxton's only connection with the abbot. At the same time, in the absence of trustworthy information to the contrary, we had best withhold our final judgment, and agreeing that

The woollen market, or wool staple, at was looked upon with jealous eyes by the neighbouring citizens of . The market house stood just where the modern Westminster Bridge springs from its abutments. It was destroyed in , being then surrounded by other buildings, for all of which the sum of £840 was paid by authority of an act of parliament.[28]  A new place on which to hold a market was obtained from the dean

Although Raleigh's headless body was laid in the chancel more than a century after Caxton's death, the appearance of had not, in spite of the suppression

The domestic buildings of Abbey have been so effectually disguised and altered that it is almost if not quite impossible to make any complete plan of what they were. Mr. Middleton's map gives the results of the latest investigations. Though, as I have said, there is not much in proportion of the Confessor's work still to be seen its remains are in reality more extensive than is generally supposed. Many people were

Two buildings stood at right angles to each other, the chapel of St. Stephen and the so-called Painted Chamber. The house of commons sat in the chapel, the house of lords in the painted chamber, which was also sometimes described as the white hall[31]  and the court of requests.

There is evidence that the southern end, at least, of Westminster Hall is of very early work. But the present hall is due to Richard II., and the previous building was that of , and must have been smaller. We can therefore say nothing of what the Confessor built here. When the cloister court was formed on the east side, the buildings came to the river's edge, and the site afterwards occupied by the Speaker's Garden, and now by the principal buildings of the houses of parliament, was under water. The Speaker's house stood almost where the lobby of the House of Commons is now, having been formed out of a row of lodgings for the priests connected with the collegiate chapel of St. Stephen.

Henry III. added much to the palace. When we consider the magnitude of this king's architectural schemes, we need not seek further for any explanation of his constant want of money, and the endless demands he made upon the citizens of . In a future chapter I shall have something to say of his buildings at the Tower. At he not only almost rebuilt the Confessor's church, but spent lavish sums on his own palace. Some of his chambers were fancifully named, perhaps from the

Of the law courts at we have heard much in late years. The king's judges used to travel with him, but many of our early sovereigns sat as a matter of course to hear cases. Henry III. sat in the Court of Exchequer in and . James I. is the last king who Westminster Hall very gradually became the head quarters of the law courts, but that they were at least occasionally fixed here appears from a report of pleas as early as . They were not, however, absolved from travelling after the king till , when the judges commenced to sit in the hall, as they have, nominally at least, sat ever since until now. There are some curious views extant of the different courts,[35]  and various chambers were at different times appropriated to them. Edward I., however, took the judges to Shrewsbury in to assist in trying Llewellyn, Prince of Wales. In he made inquiries into the administration of justice at Westminster and punished nearly all his judges for taking bribes. It is said that a bell tower,

Of the modern houses of parliament much might be said did space and time permit. The new palace is the result of a long series of more or less stupid mistakes, and more or less ignorant experiments. That it is so satisfactory can only be accounted for by the enormous amount of money spent. Seen from the river the front has a symmetry not wholly unpleasing; but marred by the comparative lowness of the central part of the facade, which deprives it of dignity. The landward side is wanting in unity and seems to straggle. Much the most picturesque parts of the building are the little known courts, where no attempt at ornament or symmetry was made, and where the irregular beauties of the style assert themselves rather in spite of the architect than with his help. The ground plan looks well on paper. The way in which Westminster Hall was worked into the design, the octagon, with the four passages leading to it and the simplicity of the lobby arrangements, account for the ease with which a stranger can find his way about. The royal entrance under the southern tower, by an archway sixty feet high, and a wide staircase leading to the splendid but meaningless royal gallery, is very fine and grand. It is but too easy to find fault. The decorations are oppressive in their number and monotony. The architect knew little about the Tudor style, and could give no variety. On the exterior the pannelling is simply tiresome, while only the central tower can be considered beautiful. The

Westminster hall was, practically, renewed by Barry, who removed the southern end, placed the window a few feet back, and made room for a broad platform or landing for the staircase which opens from the western side, facing Henry VII.'s chapel. It is difficult to realise now the old appearance of the hall.[36]  The little shops, as archbishop Laud notes in his diary,[37]  took fire in , but the damage was insignificant: and the noble oak roof was spared. It was found to be in a very rickety

were hung and trimmed sumptuously,

The palace of was occasionally inhabited by Henry VIII.: but after he had taken Whitehall from Wolsey, and St. James's from the nuns of the hospital, it ceased to be a royal residence. It had been much damaged by fire in the early part of Henry's reign, and when he obtained or seized Whitehall, he must have been very poorly lodged at , which may account for his love of Bridewell. When the papal ascendancy had been thrown off, and the monks had been banished from St. Peter's abbey, the king can have had little object in residing among some ruinous buildings, disendowed chapels, desecrated shrines, and-if Henry had anything like sentiment or superstition left in his selfish mind-the graves of his father and his mother, which he had deprived of the services they had thought so needful to their repose, and had tried to secure by so many safeguards. It was but a few years before the final suppression that Henry VIII. received the renewed oath of an abbot of , to provide the accustomed masses in the chapel of Henry VII.[41]  Some of the ancient observances continued to be celebrated in the chapel of Henry VII. till the end of his son's reign: but ceased immediately on

Since Henry III. had consecrated the mound of holy earth he had obtained from Palestine, by the translation of the body of Edward the Confessor, most of his descendants had chosen the chapel behind the high altar for their tombs. Many of Henry VII.'s descendants were buried in his chapel, but the body of George III. was laid beside those of Charles I., Henry VIII., Edward IV., and Henry VI. in the chapel of St. George, adjoining the royal palace at Windsor. Henry III. reserved the Confessor's ancient coffin for himself and the bones of the saint were laid in a magnificent shrine, the mere remains of which are all we can now see. It is even doubtful, if any of the are still in the tomb, which was renewed by queen Mary and again by James II. At the north side is the monument with its effigy of Henry III., completed ten years after his death by the piety of Edward I., whose own tomb is as plain and solid as if it had been hewn out of one of the Welsh or Scottish hills among which he wrought his mighty deeds. The plainness of Edward's tomb is the more remarkable because of the magnificence he bestowed on the tombs of his father and of his wife, whose figure, if it be indeed a portrait, is the first we have of any English sovereign, since it was completed before that of her father-in-law, Henry III. The cross Edward made in her honour at Charing remains there still in name, though the statue of Charles I. occupies the site; but the modern cross which so unmeaningly decorates the approach to the neighbouring

the very extremity of Scotland.

It has several times been found easy to fill a volume with accounts of the tombs and monuments of Westminster Abbey. I shall notice here only a few. Edward III. rests near his grandfather, and close to him his wife. Near them is their unfortunate grandson Richard II. and his first wife, Anne of Bohemia. The effigy of the king was placed beside that of his consort in his own lifetime his hand clasping hers. Below was formerly the touching inscription,

I have been most happy and most miserable,

One more royal tomb must be mentioned. The chantry

Scarcely less important than the tombs of kings are those of their greatest ministers. Though lord Beaconsfield, who knew how the mighty dead jostle each other, so to speak, in Westminster Abbey, and how one's feelings of reverence at seeing the grave of one remarkable man, are immediately diverted to see another, chose rather to be buried in a country churchyard, yet few of his predecessors escaped the questionable honour. It comes to pass from their number, that one overlooks even the tombs of such men as the Pitts, whereas the solitary monument of lord Melbourne, in St. Paul's, is always conspicuous. But it may be safely said that of the thousands of altar tombs, tablets, cenotaphs, statues, busts, and other memorials, in the abbey, there is not one so simple, so mournful, so beautiful that it is not excelled by the black doorway in

Of late years, with a view to economising space and fees, it has been the custom to put up little busts on brackets in all sorts of corners. The effect is intolerable. We talk of the incongruous monuments of General Wolfe or Mrs. Nightingale, but at least they are fine works of art. A naked quarter length of the late Mr. John Keble on a Greek pedestal, is fifty times more incongruous, and bad, besides, in itself. It is impossible not to regret that Dickens's dying wish was disregarded and that his body does not rest among the scenes he loved best, and where it would have been in a sense, an honour to the place. Here it is lost. In fact, the monuments[47]  have become so numerous and so often commemorate people whom futurity will consider entitled to be called eminent chiefly because they have their memorials here, that a visit to the church is not what it was in the days of Addison and Sir Roger de Coverley, or Johnson and Goldsmith.

The triforium of Westminster Abbey is just as full of objects of interest as every other part of the church. Yet it is not altogether a pleasant place to visit. One does not always wish to get behind, or, as in this case, above, the scenes. Even ancient abbeys have their seamy side. It is not at first possible to realise the value of every little heap of dust and rubbish which has accumulated here during so many centuries. A bundle of broken boards was once the canopy of a great king's tomb, removed to make way for the tomb of a greater than he. A heap of red fragments of terra-cotta were once the priceless images with which Torregiano decorated the high altar of Henry's sumptous chapel. A magnificently modelled worthy of Michael Angelo, is among them, and some pedestals which still bear the of little angels. Tied up into faggots are the iron rails that bore the pall which concealed the plainness of the tomb of Edward I. In one corner is the sole remaining cope chest. In another are the curious little wooden obelisks which stood at either side of the choir gate when Dart made his view. Perched high up on beams are more than a hundred helmets, some of them still bearing their crests, which like that of Henry V. have come into the abbey with funerals. At the western end of the south side is a room which Bradshaw occupied in the days of the commonwealth. It communicates with the deanery which was granted to him, and here it is said by tradition he died. His ghost haunts the gloomy chamber still, and walks the triforium on the nights of the 30th January and the 22nd November.

In a chantry over the Islip chapel is the very curious and interesting collection of waxworks. For some reason the later deans have not been anxious that the public should see these characteristic figures, and some of the

The transfer of Westminster from the abbot and his monks to the dean and his canons was made gentle by two circumstances. There were only 17 monks in the house at the suppression: and the last abbot became the first dean. The short-lived bishopric which made a city, and the or royal chapel, a cathedral, helped also to keep alive the old feeling of the greatness of the place, for though a dean was nothing in comparison with a lord abbot, controlling an income which would now be reckoned at about 6o,oool. a year, a bishop was a peer of Parliament, and bishop Thurlby turned the late abbot, now dean, out of the abbot's house and made it his palace. The dean made a house of the old Misericorde, already mentioned. Dean Benson, who had reigned for a brief period as abbot Boston, a name he derived from his birthplace, was one of these implements which kings like Henry, and ministers like , always find ready to hand. He lived to repent of his misdeeds, and died, it was reported of In , the lord abbot's chair being vacant by the death of Islip, [49]  Boston was

Queen Elizabeth founded Westminster School, and it

Infandum, regina, jubes renovare dolorem.

Ashburnham House requires more than a passing mention. It stands as I have said, across the very wall of the Misericorde, and its garden looked on the little that is left of the Refectory. How far the school will injure it I know not, but visitors who remember its delicate carved panelling and the fragile stucco work, will tremble for its fate. There seems to be no authentic proof that it was designed by : but the negative proof that he only could have designed it is very

In is described in an act of parliament as a When the short lived bishopric was established in , the town became a and after the suppression of the see ten years later, the title still stuck to it. In an act passed in it is called the

manor and city of

Westminster

.

tempore Regis Edwardi

.

The modern government of remains very much as it was when first organised by dean Goodman.

He was the virtual founder of the corporation of

Westminster

, of which the shadow still remains in the twelve burgesses and the high steward of

Westminster

-the last relic of the 'temporal power' of the ancient abbots His high steward was no less a person than lord Burleigh.

[1] This charter (Kemble, i. No. 149) is marked with a star, and is not, therefore, existing except in a copy which may not be genuine. At the same time there is nothing in it inconsistent with the fidelity of the copy, and Widmore (' Enquiry,' p. 7) accepts it.

[2] This interpretation has been suggested by Mr. Henry Middleton,F.S.A., and commends itself to our common sense. The reader will recall the expression of Jacob (Genesis, xxviii. 17) "How dreadful is this place! This is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." Quam terribilis est locus iste, are the words of the Vulgate. In a poem on the life of Edward the Confessor, published in the Rolls Series, there is a similar reference to Jacob's dream. "King Edward calls this holy place the gate of heaven."-P. 198.

[3] There was a king called Sebert or Seberht, as already mentioned (chap. iii.), but his connection with Westminster was not thought of till after the Conquest, when the place had become important.

[4] See Stanley, 'Memorials,' p. 9.

[5] William Bardwell, 'Westminster Improvements,' p. 8, and Smith's ' Westminster,' p. 27.

[6] Built in the reign of Edward III., by Walter Warfield, the Abbot's butler.-Bardwell, p. 11.

[7] Southampton is usually the scene of this legend. See Stanley, 'Memorials,' p. 7.

[8] See above, chap. iii.

[9] Widmore, p. 21.; Saunders, 'Archaeologia,' xxvi. 223; Kemble, ' Codex Diplomaticus,' No. 569. There are many marks about this charter to show that it is a copy, but an early one. The date, 951, should, as Kemble thinks, be 971 ; and there is a mistaken reference to Wulfred as being archbishop in the time of Offa. But the definition of boundaries is in Anglo-Saxon, and even if it does not belong to Edgar's time is of antiquity before the Conquest, and in every way valuable.

[10] See above, chap. i.

[11] Here, an army, expedition, host, legion, multitude, troop, chiefly of enemies, any number of men above thirty-five.-Bosworth's Dictionary.

[12] Now the Rolls.

[13] Chapter i.

[14] I am inclined to think another and much later Baynard will be found to have been the abbot's tenant, and to have given his name to Bayswater.

[15] It seems to me quite plain from this that either Fleet Street was no longer in the manor, a theory no one has ever started, or it was still unbuilt, which latter hypothesis will best square with known facts. For an opposite view, however, the reader is referred to Mr. Saunders's paper in Archaeologia, xxvi., already mentioned.

[16] A glance at the accompanying plan will explain this. I have to thank Mr. J. Henry Middleton, F.S.A., for leave to use it. In conjunction with Mr. Micklethwaite, he has been engaged in researches in the abbey for many years, and it is probable that this plan will prove to be the most accurate hitherto published.

[17] Printed in 'Lives of Edward,' Rolls Series, p. 417.

[18] See full account in Scott's 'Gleanings,' p. 3.

[19] Widmore, p. 12.

[20] There are five saints of the name in Husenbeth's ' Emblems,' p. 109. Of these the dates exclude St. Margaret of Cortona, St. Margaret of Scotland, and B. Margaret of Hungary. B. Margaret of Castello is the fourth; and the fifth, who must be identified with the church of Westminster, is St. Margaret, a virgin martyr in the fourth century. She is frequently represented in local sculpture as rising from a dragon which has her robe in his mouth.

[21] I am much indebted to Mr. Middleton for this information.

[22] Walcott, ' Westminster,' a compilation which must be referred to with caution, though it is the most accessible book on the subject. It is somewhat unfortunate that both the modern historians of the abbey and of the adjacent church should have been so little characterised by historical accuracy that none of their assertions can be received without proof. I have avoided in this chapter as far as possible references to Dean Stanley's and Precentor Walcott's books.

[23] It is noticed above, chap. ix. p. 257.

[24] The volume in which the entry occurs was shown in the Caxton Exhibition at South Kensington in 1877.

[25] Chap. ix. p. 267.

[26] The mercers have a good many houses in and about Long Acre, adjoining the Convent, or Covent Garden. Their badge is still to be seen in St. Martin's Lane and Long Acre.

[27] ii. 56.

[28] Smith, p. 261.

[29] See above, vol. i. chap. v.

[30] Smith, in his 'Antiquities of Westminster,' and Archer in his 'Old London,' have preserved many of the picturesque features left standing in the present century.

[31] A name which misled Brayley into confounding it with Whitehall, otherwise York Place, 'Ancient Palace,' p. 357. There was a white chamber in the palace, as well.

[32] Fergusson.

[33] In one of the canons' houses at Canterbury there is still an ancient room called Paradise.

[34] The reader is referred to Smith's ' Westminster,' and to Brayley and Britton's 'Ancient Palace of Parliament,' for full and accurate accounts of the old buildings.

[35] See some fine plates in 'Archaeologia,' vol. xxxix.

[36] A copy of a view made early in the eighteenth century is among the accompanying plates.

[37] Quoted by Timbs, p. 829.

[38] See view in Brayley and Britton, plate viii.

[39] See several of these trials in Mr. Bell's ' Chapel in the Tower.'

[40] It is often asserted that queen Anne Boleyn was tried in Westminster hall. Mr. Bell has shown that the high steward and his court sat in the "King's hall " in the White Tower, p. 101.

[41] Syllabus of Rymer's' Foedera,' p. 773, 12 May, 1533. Abbot Benson, or Boston, surrendered on the 16th January, 1540, and was appointed first dean.

[42]

[43] Noticed above, vol. i. p. 251.

[44] Dean Stanley seems to have thought they were his veritable arms, p. 149.

[45] Had Marochetti never executed any work but this he would have been reckoned a great sculptor. But he also made the statue of Richard I. in Old Palace Yard.

[46] Chapter xiv.

[47] The best account of the illustrious dead here interred is in the lamented Colonel Chester's book on the ' Registers of Westminster Abbey.'

[48] Dean Stanley is careful to say very little about them, and excludes the word " waxwork" from his index.

[49] One of Newcourt's very rare mistakes is in his list of abbots, i. 717, where he says Islip was abbot from 1483 to 1510: thus wholly omitting Fascet. Islip became abbot in 1500, and died in May 1532. (Stanley, 355.)

[50] It is the opening of the speech of Æneas to Dido. Thou dost desire me, O queen, to recall unspeakable woe. Book ii., line 3.

[51] Ashburnham House is figured in Smith's 'Additional Plates,' and in Edifices of London' by Britton and Pugin, ii. 90, where there are two engravings showing the staircase, from drawings by Gwilt. Sir John Soane made a series of drawings of it, which are, presumably, in his Museum in Lincoln's Inn Fields.

[52] Stanley, p. 422.