The Children's Story of Westminster Abbey

by G. E. Troutbeck

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PHOTOGRAVURES
Westminster Abbey from Dean’s Yard	[Frontispiece]
From a Photograph by W. Rice, F.R.P.S.
	FACING PAGE
The Norman Cloister	[14]
From a Photograph by W. Rice, F.R.P.S.
Tomb of Prince John of Eltham	[68]
From a Photograph by W. Rice, F.R.P S.
Henry vii’s Chapel	[122]
From a Photograph by W. Rice, F.R.P.S.
PHOTOGRAPHS
King Sebert’s Tomb	[10]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
Coronation Chair, with Sword and Shield of State	[20]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
North Ambulatory, with Tombs of Henry iii and Edward i	[30]
From a Photograph by W. Rice, F.R.P.S.
Shrine of King Edward the Confessor	[40]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
Richard ii	[56]
From a Photograph by G. A. Dunn.
Tombs of Edmund and Aveline of Lancaster and of Aymer de Valence	[62]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
Chaucer’s Tomb	[74]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond, and Mary Queen of Scots	[90]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
Shakspeare’s Monument	[104]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
Poets’ Corner	[136]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
Monument of General Wolfe	[142]
From a Photograph by W. Rice, F.R.P.S.
Monument of the Earl of Chatham	[150]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
Statue of William Wilberforce	[168]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
Charles James Fox	[178]
From a Photograph by W. Rice, F.R.P.S.
Statesmen’s Corner, Eastern Aisle	[186]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
Graves of Newton, Herschel, Darwin, and Kelvin	[198]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
Wax Effigies of Queen Elizabeth and Charles ii	[208]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
South Cloister	[215]
From a Photograph by W. Rice, F.R.P.S.
The CHAPTER-HOUSE	[222]
From a Photograph by G. A. Dunn.
The Jerusalem Chamber	[238]
From a Photograph by D. Weller.
Little Dean’s Yard—Entrance to Great School	[248]
From a Photograph by W. Rice, F.R.P.S.

CHAPTER I
THE FOUNDATION AND BUILDING OF THE ABBEY

“It is finished!

The Kingliest Abbey in all Christian lands,

The lordliest, loftiest minster ever built

To Holy Peter in our English Isle!

Let me be buried there, and all our Kings,

And all our just and wise and holy men

That shall be born hereafter. It is finished!”

Tennyson (Harold).

The writer of this little book was once showing Westminster Abbey to a party of foreigners—they were Germans,—and after hearing something about the Abbey and the people who are either buried or commemorated there, one of them turned and said: “I can understand the pride of English people when I see a place like this.”

Now, it must be remembered that this German visitor was not thinking of our wealth, or of our Empire, or of our commercial prosperity. He was thinking of the “great cloud of witnesses,” the people of our race who have gone before us, and who are gathered together, resting and remembered in our chief national church. He was thinking, too, of the wide and catholic spirit which would shut out no one who had done good service to God and man.

If one who was not our own countryman could feel this so strongly, is it any wonder that the name of Westminster Abbey is dear to all British folk, men, women, and children, whether at home or across the wide seas? Westminster Abbey is a name that means “home,” and the story of home, almost from the very earliest times of our nation.

And if any one asks how and why this is, it is easy to show him that Westminster Abbey has been part of English history all along, and that if you can read what is written on the old grey stones of Westminster you will know more about the British race and Empire than many books could teach you.

Around the venerable and stately church, where all our Kings, from Edward the Confessor onwards, have been crowned, and where many of our sovereigns and most of our famous men are buried, are memories which speak to us even of the Roman rule in Britain, taking us back nearly to the days of brave Queen Boadicea, whose statue stands on the bridge close by.

Then follow memories of the wild Saxon days, of the conversion of England by St. Augustine, of the Danes, the Normans, the Plantagenets, Tudors, Stuarts, and of many others.

We are reminded too, of the signing of Magna Charta, of the Barons’ War, of the Crusades, of the beginning of the House of Commons, of the long Hundred Years’ War with France, of the Wars of the Roses, of the great Civil War, of the rise of our Indian and Colonial Empire, and indeed of all the important things that have happened in our country until this very twentieth century, when the Abbey is still just as much a part of our history as it ever was.

If we want to see and understand how this is, we can learn a good deal from the history of the building itself, that is, of how, when, and where it was built.

To begin with, what do we mean when we speak of the “Abbey”?

An abbey was really a place where a number of monks or nuns lived, under the rule of an abbot or abbess,—the name abbot being taken from “abbas,” the Syriac word for father. The actual church was only a part of the “Abbey,” to which belonged many other buildings, besides gardens, orchards, fields and farms, and often large estates in various places.

The Abbey of Westminster was for monks of the Benedictine Order. The Abbot of Westminster was a very great person, and many well known places belonged to the Abbey, such, for instance, as Covent Garden (the Convent Garden) and Hyde Park, besides others which were far away from London. Windsor at one time belonged to the Abbey of Westminster, but the Conqueror wanted it himself, and so made the monks exchange Windsor for land in other places.

The Church, then, which we now call the Abbey, was the Abbey Church of St. Peter in Westminster. Since the days of Queen Elizabeth, the proper title of the church has been “The Collegiate Church of St. Peter in Westminster,” but every one likes to keep the old name, and to call it Westminster Abbey. As we shall see later on, a good deal still remains of the old monastic buildings besides the church. Such are the beautiful cloisters, the Chapter-House, and parts of the library and dormitory.

Now, as to where the Abbey is built. It stands on what was long ago a desolate little island in the Thames, an island which was overgrown with great thorns and thickets, and in which wild beasts, such as the wild ox and the huge red deer, used to roam about. It was perhaps not unlike the Isle of Athelney, where King Alfred hid from his enemies and made his plans.

It is interesting to remember that the great Cathedral Church of Paris, Notre Dame, is also built on an island,—a little island in the river Seine. In those days, when there were so few roads, it was a great matter to be near a big river, where boats and ships could go up and down, and so we find that most important cities, like Rome, Paris, Vienna, and London, are built on the banks of rivers.

The island on which the Abbey stands was called “Thorney Isle” in those old days, and it is described in a charter of King Offa as “the terrible place,” probably because of its wild forests and fierce beasts. The little streams which once separated Thorney Isle from the mainland still run underground, but in those early days the island was also surrounded by a great marsh, which stretched out to Chelsea on the north bank of the Thames, and to Lambeth and Battersea on the south bank.

The early stories of the foundation and building of the church on Thorney Isle have been handed down from far-off times, and although they cannot all be proved to be quite true, we may be sure that there is a great deal of truth deep down in them, as there is in most of the tales that people have loved and told to their children through all the ages.

To begin with the oldest story of all. We are told that in the second century after Christ, while the Romans were still in Britain, a certain Lucius, a British King, became a Christian. His people also became Christian, and Lucius built a church at Thorney, where a temple of Apollo had once stood. Lucius is also said to have built a church where St. Paul’s now stands, on the site of a temple of Diana.

Another very interesting story is that of the rebuilding of the church at Thorney in the Saxon times. The Venerable Bede tells us that Sebert, King of the East Saxons, and nephew of Ethelbert, King of Kent, was converted to Christianity by St. Augustine in A.D. 603 or 604. The Norman monks said that this King Sebert built a church and founded a monastery at Thorney Isle, and a very beautiful story is told about the consecration of this church of King Sebert’s.

One stormy Sunday night—the very night before Mellitus, Bishop of London, was to come and consecrate the church—a fisherman named Edric was casting his nets into the Thames. While he was doing this he heard a voice calling to him from Lambeth, on the other side of the river, and when he had crossed over in his boat he found a venerable looking man in foreign dress, who asked to be ferried over to Thorney Isle. Edric took him across the river, and when they landed at Thorney the stranger went at once to the church, leaving the fisherman waiting by the shore. Then, while Edric watched, a heavenly light seemed to fill all the air, and angels ascended and descended on a ladder which reached from heaven to earth. Edric heard the angels singing, and saw how they burned sweet incense and held flaming tapers. At last the stranger came back, and said to Edric: “I am Peter, keeper of the keys of Heaven. When Mellitus arrives to-morrow, tell him what you have seen, and show him the token that I, St. Peter, have consecrated my own Church of St. Peter, Westminster, and have anticipated the Bishop of London. For yourself, go out into the river; you will catch a plentiful supply of fish, whereof the larger part shall be salmon. This I have granted on two conditions—first, that you never fish again on Sundays; secondly, that you pay a tithe of them to the Abbey of Westminster.”

When King Sebert and Bishop Mellitus arrived the next day for the solemn consecration, Edric met them, bringing a salmon, which he presented to the Bishop from St. Peter, at the same time telling him the wondrous story. It is told that the Bishop saw on the church the crosses and all the marks of consecration, and was satisfied that the fisherman’s tale was true.

King Sebert is said to have died about the year 616, and he and his wife Ethelgoda were buried in the church at Thorney. His tomb was replaced in the great church built on Thorney Isle by Edward the Confessor, and was finally moved into the present church, where it still remains.

It is supposed that the church at Thorney was left neglected until it was restored by Offa, King of the Mercians. After his day it was probably overrun and robbed by the heathen Danes, but it is said to have been again restored by the great St. Dunstan, who brought some Benedictine monks from Glastonbury to the monastery at Thorney.

Harold the Dane, son of Canute, was buried at Thorney, but his brother, Hardicanute, ordered the body to be taken out of its grave and thrown into the Thames. An old story says: “And he (Hardicanute) caused to be hurled out the body of Harold, and to be thrown, beheaded, all out of church; head and body he throws into the Thames. The Danes drew it from the water, and caused it to be buried in the cemetery of the Danes.” (St. Clement Danes).

[D. Weller
KING SEBERT’S TOMB.

Now we come to the time of Edward the Confessor, when we feel we know more about the real history.

Edward the Confessor had been in exile in Normandy during the reigns of the Danish Kings. When Hardicanute died, Edward came back to England, and was crowned King at Winchester. After he was once settled in his kingdom he remembered a solemn vow he had made while he was in a foreign land, and when he doubted whether he would ever get back to England. This was the vow: “Sire Saint Peter, under whose aid I put myself and my property, be to me a shield and protection against the tyrant Danish plans: Be to me lord and friend against all my enemies. To thy service I will entirely give myself up, and well I vow to you and promise you, when I shall be of strength and age, to Rome I will make my pilgrimage, where you and your companion Saint Paul suffered martyrdom.”

The English were most unwilling that their King should leave them, and go away on such a long and dangerous journey as it was in those days. So they begged the King to remain, and he sent to ask the Pope what he might do instead of going to Rome. The Pope answered that he might build or restore some monastery in honour of St. Peter. There is a beautiful old story which tells that while the King was thinking over this matter, and wondering where to build his monastery, a message was brought to him from a holy hermit of Worcestershire, one Wulsinus, and the message was as follows: “I have a place in the west of London, which I myself chose, and which I love. This formerly I consecrated with my own hands, honoured with my presence, and made it illustrious by divine miracles. The name of the place is Thorney, which once, for the sins of the people, being given to the fury of barbarians, from being rich is become poor, from being stately, low, and from honour is become contemptible. This let the King, by my command, repair and make it a house of monks, adorn it with stately towers, and endow it with large revenues. There shall be no less than the House of God and the Gates of Heaven.”

This, and other reasons, decided the King to rebuild the church at Thorney Isle, and this great “Minster of the West” was probably begun about the year 1055. In 1065 the eastern part of the church, that is to say, the choir and transepts, was ready, and it was consecrated by Archbishop Stigand on Innocents’ Day, 28th December 1065. King Edward was too ill to be at the service, so his wife, Queen Editha, had to represent him.

Edward the Confessor died on 5th January 1066, and was buried the next day, the Feast of the Epiphany, in front of the high altar of his new church.

That church was very different to look at from the Abbey we all know at the present day. It was built in what is called the Norman style, with massive pillars, round arches, and round-headed windows. It must have been a very large and splendid church, almost as large as the present one, only that it was not so high.

The church and the surrounding monastery buildings were finished during the reigns of the early Norman kings, and William the Conqueror confirmed the charters granted to the Abbey by the Confessor, and bestowed yet more lands upon it.

We must now pass over nearly two hundred years, and speak of the time of King Henry III. In the year 1220, Henry III began to build a very beautiful chapel, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, at the eastern end of the Abbey church. It was just about this time that some of the grand cathedrals of France, such as those of Amiens, Reims, and Chartres, were being built in that lovely and graceful pointed style which is called Gothic, but which really comes from France.

Henry III, when visiting his brother-in-law, St. Louis, King of France, had no doubt seen some of these glorious new churches, and was very anxious to build one like them in honour of King Edward the Confessor, for whom he had a great reverence.

Photo W. Rice, F.R.P.S. Allen & Co (London) Ltd Sc
The Norman Cloister.

Accordingly, in 1245, he began to have the Confessor’s Norman church pulled down, and in its stead he built the splendid church we now see, a church which has been called “the most lovely and lovable thing in Christendom.”

The choir and transepts, the Chapter-House, and some of the cloisters were built during Henry’s reign. The monks sang service in the new choir and transepts for the first time on 13th October 1269, when the body of Edward the Confessor was placed in the magnificent new shrine made for it by Henry III.

Some of the nave was then gone on with, but it was not built to its present length until the reign of Henry V. The first time it was used for a procession was when the Te Deum was sung in thanksgiving after the Battle of Agincourt in 1415. The money for building this part of the Abbey was given into the care of a man named Dick Whittington, whom some people think to have been the famous Lord Mayor of that name. This, however, is doubtful.

The church built by Henry III is very different from a Norman church. Instead of round arches, it has very pointed ones; the windows are long and pointed; the pillars are tall, slender, and graceful. The wonder seems to be how such a building can have stood for all these hundreds of years. And indeed it would not stand, if it were not for the beautiful flying buttresses which support it on the outside.

In the reigns of Edward III and Richard II the cloisters were finished, and Abbot Litlington built the celebrated rooms known as the Jerusalem Chamber and the College Hall. A very fine North Porch, called “Solomon’s Porch,” was built in Richard II’s reign, but unhappily none of it now remains.

In the year 1503, King Henry VII began the chapel which is known by his name, and which is so famous for its beauty. It stands on the place where Henry III’s Lady Chapel stood, but it is much larger than the older chapel, and some houses had to be pulled down to make room for it, among them being the house where the poet Chaucer is said to have lived. Henry VII’s chapel is too elaborate to describe here. The decoration is so rich and so delicate that it looks almost like lace-work, and the badges carved on the walls, the Tudor roses, the Beaufort portcullis, and the fleur-de-lys are a kind of history lesson in themselves. The fan-tracery vault is most wonderful, both in its lovely design and splendid masonry work.

We have now come almost to an end of the story of the actual building of the Abbey,—at any rate of the chief parts of it. The tracery of the great west window was put up in the year 1498, in Abbot Esteney’s time, but the glass in it dates only from the reign of George II. The western towers, which were begun long before, were finished in 1739 or 1740, from a design made by a pupil of Sir Christopher Wren.

In 1540, King Henry VIII made great changes in the monasteries all over England. The monks were sent away from Westminster, and their place was taken by a Dean and twelve prebendaries. For just ten years, from 1540 to 1550, the Abbey was made into a cathedral, or church where a bishop has his throne. During these years there was a Bishop of Westminster, but when the bishop resigned, in 1550, his diocese was joined once more to the See of London.

Henry VIII also made new arrangements for the old School, which had existed in the monastery from the Confessor’s time.

When Queen Mary Tudor came to the throne she brought the monks back, with Abbot Feckenham to rule over them, and the old services were restored for a time.

Queen Elizabeth changed this again, and established the Abbey as a Collegiate Church, with a Dean and Prebendaries. The present arrangements are not very different from those of her time, in spite of certain changes which have had to be made in modern days.

Queen Elizabeth also re-established the School, much on the same plan as her father had done. She settled that there should be a Head-Master, an Under-Master, and forty Scholars, who are called either King’s Scholars or Queen’s Scholars, according as the Sovereign is a king or a queen.

Westminster School always remembers what Queen Elizabeth did for it, and her name is commemorated in the prayers.

Now, having described something of the foundation and building of the Abbey, it is time to turn our thoughts to the many important and interesting things that have happened there, and to the great people of our nation who are resting within its walls.

CHAPTER II
THE CORONATIONS

“Zadok the priest and Nathan the prophet anointed Solomon king; and all the people rejoiced and said: God save the king, Long live the king, May the king live for ever.”—1 Kings i. 39, 40.

The greatest and most important ceremonies which have taken place in Westminster Abbey are, of course, the Coronations of our Kings and Queens, and so we will speak first of this most interesting part of the Abbey history.

Such a wonderful succession of coronations has never been seen in any other building in the world. Ever since 1066 our sovereigns have been crowned close to the spot where Edward the Confessor was first buried, and where the Saxon Harold and Norman William stood more than 800 years ago.

[D. Weller.
CORONATION CHAIR, WITH SWORD AND SHIELD OF STATE.

Dean Stanley tells us that the coronation-rite of the Kings of Britain is the oldest in Europe, and that the inauguration of Aidan, King of the Dalriadic Scots, by St. Columba, in the sixth century, is the oldest ceremony of the kind in Christendom. It is good for us to remember these days of old, for it helps us to understand much better what is going on now, and teaches us the meaning of many of the solemn services and ceremonies of Church and State.

The Coronation Service has been slightly changed, of course, from time to time, but its chief parts are much the same as they were when William the Conqueror was crowned at Westminster in 1066. From very early times the coronations had been partly religious and partly civil ceremonies, and had taken place in a church, the day chosen being either a Sunday or some high festival, like Christmas Day, Whitsunday, or a Saint’s Day. The Saxon Kings were usually crowned in Winchester Cathedral. Canute was crowned at St. Paul’s.

Before speaking of any of the old Westminster Coronations, it will be a good plan to describe, very shortly, what is done at Coronations in our own day. We will take the little book of the “Form and Order for the Coronation of King Edward and Queen Alexandra,” and see what it says.

To begin with, the Sacred Oil for the anointing of the King was consecrated in the Confessor’s Chapel, and then placed on the altar. The Litany was said, and a hymn was sung as the clergy, carrying the Regalia, went down to the west door to meet the King and Queen.

When the King and Queen came into church the choir sang an anthem beginning with the words: “I was glad when they said unto me, We will go into the house of the Lord.”

The Westminster scholars have for long years had the right of acclaiming the King and Queen at the Coronations, and their shouts of “Vivat Regina Alexandra,” “Vivat Rex Edwardus,” were heard in the anthem as the sovereigns, first the Queen and then the King, walked up the Abbey.

At Coronations a great platform, called the Theatre, is put up, and covers a wide space in front of the high altar. On this platform the Coronation Chair (King Edward’s Chair, as it is called) is placed, and also the thrones. Here all the principal people stand, and here the whole great ceremony is performed.

When the King and Queen reached this platform the Archbishop of Canterbury turned to the people, and asked for what is called the Recognition, that is to say, he asked whether the people of England were willing to accept the King, and to do him homage. They answered by shouting out: “God save King Edward.”

The Regalia were then placed on the altar, and the Archbishop began the Communion Service. After the Creed the actual Coronation began. The King first took the solemn Oath to observe the statutes, laws, and customs of the land, and to cause “law and justice, in mercy, to be executed in all his judgments.” He also promised to maintain and preserve the Church of England as by law established. The King then kissed the Book of the Gospels, and signed the Oath. The Archbishop then began the beautiful hymn “Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire,” sung as a prayer for the blessing of the Holy Spirit on the King and Queen. After the hymn, the King, sitting in the Coronation Chair, on the Stone of Scone, was solemnly anointed with the Holy Oil. Then the Lord Great Chamberlain girt the King with the Sword of State, and after that the Sub-Dean of Westminster, acting for the Dean, put on him the Imperial Robe, and the Archbishop presented him with the Orb. The King then received the Ring, as a sign of kingly dignity, and then the two Sceptres,—the sceptre with the cross and the sceptre with the dove.

After this came the putting on of the Crown itself, which was brought by the Sub-Dean and placed on the King’s head by the Archbishop. The people again shouted “God save the King”; the peers put on their coronets; the trumpets sounded, and the great guns at the Tower were fired off.

The Archbishop then presented the Holy Bible to the King, saying these beautiful words: “Our Gracious King, we present you with this Book, the most valuable thing that this world affords. Here is wisdom; this is the royal law; these are the lively oracles of God.”

After this came the Benediction. The King was then led to his throne, and received the homage of all the princes and peers, the Prince of Wales being the first to do homage to his father. When that splendid ceremony was over the Queen was crowned by the Archbishop of York. As Queen Alexandra was Queen-Consort, she did not sit in King Edward’s Chair, as of course Queen Victoria did, but she knelt at the altar-step to be crowned. As she was led to her throne she made a deep obeisance to the King, who rose and bowed to her.

The actual Coronation being finished, the Archbishop proceeded with the Communion Service, and the King and Queen received the Holy Communion, which was administered to them by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Dean of Westminster.

At the end of the service the “Te Deum” was sung, and the whole assembly cheered as the King walked down the Abbey, in his Royal Robe and Crown, and bearing the Sceptre and Orb.

This is an outline of the Coronation Service of King Edward VII, and it is especially interesting because, in spite of some few small changes, it shows us what the Coronations of our Kings have been like ever since the Confessor’s days. It may be well just to explain what is meant by the word “Regalia,” because the history of the Regalia carries us back to times even before Edward the Confessor, as Offa, King of the Mercians, is said to have placed the Regalia and Coronation Robes in the church at Thorney Isle. We should notice that the Regalia, that is, the crowns, sceptres, and orbs, had Anglo-Saxon names. The King’s crown was called the crown of Alfred, or of St. Edward; the Queen’s crown was called the crown of Editha, wife of Edward the Confessor. The sceptre with the dove was a remembrance of the peaceful days of the Confessor’s reign, after the Danes were driven out. The Coronation oath used to be taken on a copy of the Gospels which was said to have belonged to Athelstane. The orb appears in the famous Bayeux tapestry, showing that it must have been used in Saxon days.

Now let us turn for a little to some of the Coronations of particular Kings. As we have seen, the Saxon Kings were usually crowned at Winchester, as Edward the Confessor himself was.

The first Coronation to take place in the great church founded and built by the Confessor was that of Harold the Saxon, son of Earl Godwin, and brother-in-law of the Confessor. There was much anxiety in the country about the succession, and Harold was crowned at Westminster in great haste and confusion the day after the Confessor died, and the very day of his funeral, January 6th, 1066.

The next coronation was indeed different, for many things had happened in England meanwhile. As we all know, William Duke of Normandy, cousin of Edward the Confessor, had claimed the throne of England by right of inheritance. He had sailed over to England, had defeated and slain Harold at the Battle of Hastings (or Senlac), and was now King. When we remember that Charlemagne was crowned Emperor in St. Peter’s at Rome by Pope Leo III on Christmas Day, A.D. 800, it makes it all the more interesting to think that the day chosen for the Conqueror’s Coronation was also Christmas Day. He stood there in the Abbey, close to the grave of the Confessor, having on one side of him the Saxon Aldred, Archbishop of York, and on the other the Norman Bishop of Coutances. Archbishop Stigand, of Canterbury, had fled.

In the church were many of the Saxon people of London, and mixed with them were a number of Normans. Outside, the Norman horsemen kept guard. When the people began to acclaim the King in the usual English fashion, the Norman soldiers did not understand what was going on, and thought it was a riot. Being afraid of what might happen, they set fire to some of the thatched buildings near the Abbey. The crowd rushed out in alarm, leaving William alone in the church, with the bishops and other clergy. A terrible tumult followed, and even the Conqueror trembled. The rest of the Coronation was hurriedly finished, Archbishop Aldred making William promise to defend the Saxons before he would put the crown on his head.

The Conqueror, like the Saxon Kings before him and the Norman Kings after him, used to appear in church on the great festivals wearing his crown.

From this time onward the Coronations always took place in Westminster Abbey. All the Regalia were kept in the Treasury at Westminster until the time of Henry VIII, and some of them until the time of the Commonwealth. It was part of the duty of the Abbot of Westminster to instruct and prepare the King for his Coronation. Further, it was settled by Lanfranc, the first Norman Archbishop of Canterbury, that the Archbishop of Canterbury, and not the Archbishop of York, was to have the right to crown the King.

The next Coronation of special interest is that of Henry III, the King who built the present Abbey Church. When Henry succeeded to the throne in 1216, after the sad and unfortunate reign of his father, King John, London was in the hands of the Dauphin of France, Prince Louis. Henry, therefore, could not be crowned at Westminster, and was first crowned at Gloucester, by the Bishop of Winchester, not with the crown, but with a chaplet or garland. It will be remembered that King John’s baggage and treasures, with the Regalia, had been swept away by the tide as he was crossing the Wash.

[W. Rice, F.R.P.S.
NORTH AMBULATORY, WITH TOMBS OF HENRY III. AND EDWARD I.

It was not until Whitsunday 1220 that Henry was solemnly crowned in the Abbey by Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury. He was the last King to be crowned in the Confessor’s Norman Church. The day before his Coronation he had laid the foundation-stone of the Lady Chapel, that beautiful chapel which once stood where Henry VII’s Chapel now stands.

Edward I was in the Holy Land when his father died, and therefore was not crowned until the year 1274, when he and his beloved Queen, Eleanor of Castile, were crowned together,—the first King and Queen who had been jointly crowned. At this Coronation five hundred great horses, which had been ridden by the princes and nobles, were let loose among the crowd for any one to catch who could.

The Coronation of Edward I brings two very interesting things to our mind. These two things are, first, that Edward I was the King who brought the Stone of Scone from Scotland to England; and secondly, that it was he who ordered the present Coronation Chair to be made. This Coronation Chair, which was made in 1307 to contain the Stone of Scone, is perhaps the most precious thing in all the Abbey, excepting the Confessor’s shrine.

Some beautiful old stories are told about the Stone of Scone. One of these stories says that it was the Stone on which Jacob laid his head in Bethel when he had the wonderful vision of angels ascending and descending on the ladder which reached from earth to heaven. The sons of Jacob are said to have taken this sacred stone with them into Egypt, whence it was carried in after years to Spain, and then to Ireland, where it was used at the coronations of the Irish Kings. It was placed on the sacred hill of Tara, and was called “Lia Fail,” or the “Stone of Destiny.” If a true King sat upon it to be crowned, the stone made a noise like thunder, but if the King elect was only a pretender the Stone was silent. One story tells us that the Stone was carried across from Ireland to Scotland about 330 B.C., by Fergus, the founder of the Scottish monarchy, and that it was placed, first at Dunstaffnage, and then at Iona. In A.D. 850 it was brought by Kenneth II to Scone, where it was enclosed in a wooden chair, as it now is at Westminster. The Kings of Scotland, from Malcolm IV to John Baliol, sat on the Stone to be crowned. Edward I himself is said to have been crowned King of Scotland on the Sacred Stone of Scone after he had defeated John Baliol at the Battle of Dunbar in 1296. Whether this was so or not, Edward I carried off the Stone and the Scottish Regalia to Westminster, and placed them near the Confessor’s shrine.

In the last year of his reign Edward I ordered a chair to be made in which the Stone was to be enclosed, and in which the Kings of England were to sit to be crowned. In this very chair every English sovereign has been crowned, from Edward II to Edward VII. It has only once been taken out of the Abbey, and that was when it was taken into Westminster Hall for the inauguration of Cromwell as Lord Protector of the Realm on December 16th, 1653.

In Edward III’s reign the Scots tried very hard to get the Stone back again, and the King, who wished to content them, very nearly allowed them to have it. But the people of London would not hear of such a thing, and, as an old writer says, “would not suffer the Stone to depart from themselves.”

We must now speak of some other Coronations. Richard II’s Coronation was very splendid, and the ceremony was so long and tiring that the King, who was still quite a boy, fainted from fatigue. Two interesting ceremonies began at this Coronation. One was the first appearance of the “Champion,” as he was called. The Champion was a knight who threw down his glove as a challenge to any one who disputed the King’s claim to the throne. The last appearance of the Champion was at the Coronation of George IV, in 1820, so this curious old custom lasted for more than four hundred years.

Again, Richard II was the first King to be accompanied at his Coronation by a body of Knights, the Knights who were afterwards called the “Knights of the Bath.” It became the custom for the King to create a number of Knights on the eve of his Coronation, and these Knights accompanied him in his procession. Part of the solemn ceremony of receiving Knighthood was the taking of a bath, as a sign of purity both of body and soul.

The Knights of the Bath once used to be installed in Henry VII’s Chapel, and the Dean of Westminster is always the Dean of the Order. However, no Knights have been installed at Westminster for a long time past. Many of the old banners of the Knights of the Bath still hang over the stalls in Henry VII’s Chapel, just as the banners of the Knights of the Garter hang in St. George’s Chapel at Windsor. On the backs of the stalls are the coats-of-arms of the Knights, emblazoned on gilded metal plates.

But to return for a moment to the Coronation of Richard II. It has an especial interest for Westminster, as the Abbey possesses a most valuable book, called the “Liber Regalis,” which was drawn up by Abbot Litlington, and which gives the whole order of the Coronation service. This has been followed, more or less, at all the Coronations since that time.

We must now pass over nearly two centuries, and pause to think of the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth, remembering that it was she who finally founded Westminster Abbey as a Collegiate Church, and who re-established the School much on the present plan. Elizabeth’s accession was a very happy event for her subjects, and there were great rejoicings everywhere. Her Coronation was the last at which the ancient Latin Coronation Mass was celebrated, and the Abbot of Westminster took his part in the service for the last time. His place is now, of course, taken by the Dean, or by the Sub-Dean, should the Dean be ill or unable to attend. At Queen Elizabeth’s Coronation the Litany was said in English, instead of in Latin, and the Epistle and Gospel were read in both Latin and English, showing that, for the future, our own English language was going to be used for our Church services.

At the Coronation of Charles I several things happened which people considered unlucky, and as a sign that misfortunes were coming upon the King. To begin with, Charles wore white instead of the usual red or purple, and this was thought to be a bad omen, as if meaning that the King was to be a victim, there having been some old prophecy of trouble for a “White King.” Then the sceptre with the dove was broken, and as the dove could not be mended without the mark being seen, a new dove had to be made. In the later part of the day a shock of earthquake was felt. All these things were regarded as signs of coming evil, and were no doubt remembered in the sad days of the Civil War, and at the time of the King’s imprisonment and death.

Westminster is a Royal foundation, and the old Royalist spirit always remained strong there, especially among the boys of Westminster School; and this in spite of the changes made at the Abbey by the Puritans during the Commonwealth.

The famous Archbishop Laud, the friend of Charles I, was one of the twelve Prebendaries of Westminster, and took the Dean’s place at Charles I’s Coronation.

Charles II and James II were both crowned on St. George’s Day, the festival of the Patron Saint of England.

William and Mary were crowned as joint sovereigns, Mary sitting in a Chair of State made for the occasion, a chair which is now to be seen in Henry VII’s Chapel. She also had the sword and other symbols of sovereignty given to her, just as her husband, King William, had.

The Coronation of George IV is remembered partly for its magnificence, but chiefly, perhaps, on account of the sad and foolish attempt to get into the Abbey made by poor Queen Caroline, and the manner in which she was turned away from the doors.

The Coronation of Queen Victoria brings us nearer to our own time, and the thought of that day reminds us of the good Queen whose long life of anxious work and responsibility began in her early girlhood. She took upon her the cares of sovereignty at an age when most girls think mainly of amusing themselves, and we all know how well she kept the solemn promises made on her Coronation Day at the Abbey.

King Edward VII’s Coronation has already been described. That beautiful and stately ceremony was all the more touching and impressive because of the thankfulness of the people for the King’s recovery from a dangerous illness, a feeling which made their gladness and enthusiasm all the greater.

This short account of some of the Coronations will help to explain still further how and why the Abbey has always held such an important place in our national life. We see that the Norman, Plantagenet, Tudor, Stuart, and Hanoverian sovereigns have all come here to be crowned, close to the shrine of the last Saxon King, much in the same way as the French Kings used to go for their coronations to the great cathedral at Reims, and as the Tsars of Russia go to the Kremlin at Moscow.

We must now leave the Coronations, and turn to think of some of the great people who are buried and commemorated in the Abbey.

[D. Weller.
SHRINE OF KING EDWARD THE CONFESSOR.

CHAPTER III
KING EDWARD THE CONFESSOR

“There is

One great society alone on earth:

The noble Living and the noble Dead.”

Wordsworth (Prelude).

King Edward the Confessor is such an important person in the history of the Abbey that his Chapel and Shrine must be described in a chapter by themselves.

As has already been told, the Confessor died on January 5th, 1066, and was buried the next day, January 6th, the Feast of the Epiphany. He was laid in front of the high altar of his newly built church, and the Conqueror afterwards presented splendid hangings to cover the simple tomb which was erected over the grave.

There is an interesting old story of something that happened at this tomb in the reign of William the Conqueror.

When Lanfranc became Archbishop of Canterbury, most of the Saxon bishops were sent away and Normans were put in their places. Among the Saxon bishops was the good old St. Wulfstan, Bishop of Worcester. He was made bishop in 1062, in the Confessor’s time. The Normans despised him, and thought him ignorant because he could not speak French, and they thought he would not be able to give any good advice to the King. Wulfstan was told that he must come to Westminster to meet the other bishops. They then said to him that he must give up the pastoral staff, which belonged to him as a bishop. Wulfstan showed no anger, but only said quite simply that he would resign his staff, not to the archbishop, “but rather to St. Edward, by whose authority I received it.” He then went into the Abbey, walked up to the Confessor’s tomb, and, raising his arm slowly, he struck the pastoral staff into the stone, saying: “Receive, my lord the King; and give it to whomsoever thou mayst choose.” It is said that the staff remained firmly fixed in the stone, so that no one could pull it out. The King and the Archbishop were amazed, and acknowledged that they had done wrong in trying to turn Wulfstan out of his bishopric. They begged Wulfstan to take his staff once more. The old man came near, and drew the staff out quite easily. The King and the Archbishop went down on their knees and begged his forgiveness, but, as the old story says: “He, who had learned from the Lord to be mild and humble in heart, threw himself in his turn upon his knees.”

We are told that in 1098 the Confessor’s tomb was opened, and that his body was found to be still in perfect preservation. Bishop Gundulph, of Rochester, alone ventured to uncover the face. The memory of Edward’s pure life, and of his goodness and charity, together with the miracles that were believed to be worked at his tomb, caused the people to honour him more and more as a saint, and in the year 1161, Pope Alexander III caused his name to be formally added to the names of the Saints of the Christian Church. In our Prayer-Books his name appears on October 13th, as King Edward the Confessor. A “confessor” means some one who has suffered for the faith of Christ without actual shedding of blood. In King Edward’s case it alludes to his exile in the time of the heathen Danes. The “Translation” of which the Prayer-Book speaks means the moving of the body into the shrine. This “Translation” took place on October 13th, 1163, when the Confessor’s body was placed in the new and splendid shrine made for it by King Henry II. This ceremony took place at midnight, and both Henry II and Archbishop Becket were present.

While the Abbey was being rebuilt in the reign of Henry III, the Confessor’s coffin was taken for the time to the Palace of Westminster close by. On October 13th, 1269, it was brought back with great pomp, and placed in another shrine, more gorgeous even than the former one.

The coffin was carried by the King himself, his brother, Richard, Earl of Cornwall, his two sons, Edward and Edmund, together with many of the nobles of the land. Dean Stanley says that this great ceremony must have reminded Henry III of an equally splendid one which he saw at Canterbury Cathedral when he was a boy. This was the “Translation” of the relics of St. Thomas à Becket in 1220, when Henry III walked in the procession. Pandulf, the Papal Legate (who had come to England in King John’s reign), and Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury, were there also, to see Becket’s body placed in the shrine prepared for it.

The chapel in which the Confessor’s shrine stands, and in which so many of our Kings and Queens are buried, is raised above the rest of the church by a mound of earth brought from Holy Land. What we now see of the shrine is only the remains of its former splendour. It was adorned at first with mosaic-work, and with many gold and jewelled images. The materials for the decoration were brought from Rome, and the shrine was made by Italian workmen. In Henry VIII’s time the beautiful decorations of the shrine, and the various treasures kept near it, were taken away. The monks were afraid that even the Confessor’s body might be destroyed, so they buried it in another part of the church. When Queen Mary Tudor came to the throne the shrine was set up again, and King Edward’s body was restored to its place. The Queen presented images and jewels for the adornment of the shrine. Under the Commonwealth the ornaments of the shrine were again removed, but the Confessor’s body was not removed or disturbed.

Another interesting story about the Confessor’s shrine must be told here. When James II was crowned, in 1685, one of the “singing men” thought he saw a hole made in the Confessor’s coffin by the fall of some bit of the wooden scaffolding. On going to see, he found that there was a hole, and he could see something shining inside the coffin. He put in his hand, and drew out a gold cross and chain, which he gave to the Dean. The Dean, in his turn, gave this precious cross and chain to the King. James II, seeing that the coffin was so unsafe, had it enclosed in another strong and solid one, and since that time the body has rested in peace. On the north side of the Confessor lies his wife, Queen Editha, the daughter of Earl Godwin. She is usually supposed to have been a sweet and gentle woman, but opinions differ a little on this point. At any rate, she appears to have been very well instructed for those days, and, we are told, very clever with her needle,—a valuable accomplishment for any woman. On the south side of the shrine lies the “Good Queen Maud,” wife of Henry I, and great-niece of Edward the Confessor. As she was a Saxon princess, her marriage with Henry I made the Saxons and Normans much better friends than they had been before. Queen Maud was a very good woman, and very kind to the poor. Neither of these Queens have any monument.

The Confessor’s shrine was always held to be a most important and sacred place, and many precious and beautiful things were placed near it, as if to do it honour. Among these the Stone of Scone was chief. We have already heard how and when it came to Westminster, and why it was so greatly prized. But the Stone of Scone was not alone. The coronet of Llewellyn, the last Welsh Prince of Wales, was taken by Edward I, and hung up in the Confessor’s Chapel by Edward’s little son Alfonso. Every one will remember that Edward II—Edward of Carnarvon, as he was called—was the first Prince of Wales who was the son of an English King.

If we could have visited the Abbey in those old days we should have seen yet another very interesting thing in the Confessor’s Chapel. This was a golden cup containing the heart of Prince Henry d’Almayne, son of Richard Earl of Cornwall, and nephew of Henry III. The story of this heart takes us back both to the Barons’ War and to the Crusades. It also takes us back to the great Italian poet Dante, who writes of Prince Henry’s heart in his famous poem, the Divine Comedy.

The story is as follows. At the Battle of Evesham, in 1265, when Simon de Montfort and the other Barons were fighting against Henry III, Simon de Montfort was slain. It must be remembered that Simon de Montfort had married Eleanor, daughter of King John, and that he was therefore brother-in-law of King Henry III, and of Richard Earl of Cornwall. That is rather an important part of the story.

Some years afterwards, in 1271, there was a great council held at the town of Viterbo, in Italy, for the purpose of electing a new Pope. The King of France, Prince Edward and Prince Edmund of England, and Prince Henry d’Almayne, came there also, on their way home from the Crusade. Guy and Simon, sons of the great Simon de Montfort, were also in Italy, and they, too, went to Viterbo. One day they were all at service in the Church of San Silvestro, when suddenly, just at the most solemn part of the Mass, Guy de Montfort rushed forward and stabbed his cousin, Prince Henry, even while the prince clung to the altar for protection. Not content with killing Prince Henry, Guy de Montfort dragged him out by the hair of the head into the square in front of the church. This was all done in revenge for the death of Simon de Montfort at Evesham. Guy de Montfort escaped, but was afterwards excommunicated. Prince Henry’s body was brought home, and buried in the monastery-church of Hayles in Gloucestershire, where his father also was buried, as being the founder of the monastery. Prince Henry’s heart was put into a golden cup, and brought to the Abbey, where it was placed close to the Confessor’s shrine,—some say, in the hand of a statue.

The shield of Richard Earl of Cornwall is carved on the Abbey walls, in the spandrels of the beautiful arcade which runs round the interior of the whole Church. It will be found in the South Aisle.

In the North Aisle, also in the arcade, is the shield of Simon de Montfort, with its double-tailed lion. When we look at this shield, we remember Simon de Montfort’s great work for his country, and how he helped to form our English Parliament. But his name reminds us of something else that happened in Southern France, and for which we feel sorry. Simon’s father, Count Simon de Montfort, had a great deal to do with the persecution of the Albigenses in 1209–1229, a cruel war which was called the Albigensian Crusade. These terrible religious wars are sad to think of, although, at the same time, it is interesting to find this link between the Abbey and the history of other parts of Europe.

But it is time to come back to Edward the Confessor himself. If we want to learn something about his character, and to understand why the people loved him so much, we cannot do better than study the sculptures on the screen behind the Coronation Chair. This delicately carved stone screen was made about the time of Edward IV, and along the top of it is a row of sculptures representing scenes from the life of the Confessor.

These scenes—beginning on the left hand as you face the screen—are as follows:—

1. The nobles swearing to be loyal to Queen Emma, widow of Ethelred the Unready, and mother of the Confessor.

2. Edward’s birth at Islip in Oxfordshire.

3. Edward’s Coronation at Winchester. The Archbishops of Canterbury and York are represented standing on either side of the King.

4. The abolition of the Danegelt, or tax which Ethelred had made the people pay in order to bribe the Danes to leave England. The carving represents an old story which says that the Confessor saw a demon dancing on the casks which held the money, and so he at once did away with the tax.

5. This is a very curious story. A scullion, thinking that the King was asleep, came into his room no less than three times to steal money out of the treasure-chest. The third time the King startled him very much by speaking. He did not scold him, however, but told him to make haste and get away before Hugolin the Treasurer came. When Hugolin did come, he was very angry with the King for letting the thief get off, but Edward was very merciful, and perhaps remembered that it is sometimes a great temptation to be very poor.

6. This picture shows the King kneeling in the old church at Thorney, where he is said to have had a vision of our Lord, who appeared to him as a child.

7. This represents a very curious, almost funny, story. One Whitsunday, when the King was at church, his courtiers saw him laugh, just at a very solemn part of the service too. They asked him afterwards why he had behaved in such a strange way. He answered that he had seen the Danes and Norwegians preparing to come and attack England, but as the Danish King was going on board his ship he fell into the sea and was drowned. This was what had made Edward laugh.

8. This represents a quarrel between Harold and Tosti, sons of Earl Godwin, and brothers-in-law of the Confessor.

9. This is a vision, in which the Confessor saw that the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus had all turned over from their right side to their left. This meant that dreadful troubles and disasters were to come upon the world for seventy years.

10, 12, and 13. These three pictures tell the beautiful story of the pilgrim’s ring. One day the Confessor met a poor pilgrim who asked an alms, and as the old book tells it, “the king is in distress because neither gold nor silver he finds at hand. And he reflects, remains silent, looks at his hand, and remembers that on his finder he had a cherished ring, which was large, royal, and beautiful. To the poor man he gives it, for the love of St. John his dear lord: and he takes it with joy, and gently gives him thanks; and when he was possessed of it he departed and vanished.”

Some time after, two English pilgrims from Ludlow were travelling in Palestine, and they met an old man “white and hoary, brighter than the sun at midday,” who showed them kindness and entertained them hospitably. He told them that he was John the Evangelist, and that he had a special love for the King of their country. He then gave them back the ring, and bade them restore it to King Edward, who had given it to him when he was disguised as a poor pilgrim. They were also to tell the King that in six months’ time he would be with St. John in Paradise. The pilgrims returned to England, and the thirteenth carving shows them bringing back the ring and delivering the message, whereupon the King began to prepare himself for his death.

These stories, together with others told of Edward’s kindness to the sick and to the leper, show us the power of this simple goodness and piety, and explain why the Confessor’s memory was so much loved and revered.

His tomb has been the centre round which not only many of our Kings and Queens, but gradually most of our best and greatest men, have been laid to rest.

At the time of King Edward VII’s Coronation a covering, or “pall”, in red velvet and gold was placed over the upper part of the Confessor’s shrine, where it still remains. Round the edge of the pall is embroidered a beautiful Latin inscription, which runs as follows—

“Deo carus Rex Edwardus non mortuus est, sed cum XPO viaturus de morte ad vitam migravit.”

“King Edward, dear to God, has not died, but has passed from death to life, to live with Christ.”

[G. A. Dunn.
RICHARD II.

CHAPTER IV
THE PLANTAGENETS OF THE DIRECT LINE FROM HENRY III TO RICHARD II, 1216–1399

“This England never did, nor never shall,

Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,

But when it first did help to wound itself.

Now these her princes are come home again,

Come the three corners of the world in arms

And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue

If England to itself do rest but true.”

Shakspeare (King John).

A little more than two hundred years passed between the burial of the Confessor in the Abbey and the burial of the next English King who rests there, namely, Henry III. William the Conqueror is buried in the church which he founded at Caen, in Normandy, and William Rufus, the “Red King,” lies at Winchester, close to the New Forest, where he was shot by Walter Tyrrell. Henry I was buried at Reading, and King Stephen at Faversham. Henry II, the first King of the Plantagenet line, was buried in the great Abbey of Fontevrault in Anjou, the ancestral home of the Plantagenets. His eldest son, Henry, “the young King,” who rebelled against him, is buried at Rouen, where the heart of Richard Cœur-de-Lion also rests. Richard’s body is buried at Fontevrault, at his father’s feet. The heart of King John was taken to Fontevrault in a golden cup, but his body lies in Worcester Cathedral, between two Saxon saints, Wulfstan and Oswald.

And now we come to the Plantagenets who are buried in the Abbey.

Henry III, as we have already seen, had a great love and reverence for the memory of Edward the Confessor, and began the rebuilding of the Abbey Church in his honour. It was no wonder, then, that he wished his tomb to be close to the Confessor’s shrine.

Only three of our Kings have been married in the Abbey, and of these Henry III was the first. He married Eleanor of Provence, one of four sisters who all made remarkable marriages. Eleanor’s sister Margaret married King Louis IX of France; her sister Sancha married Richard Earl of Cornwall, and her sister Beatrice married Charles of Anjou, brother of Louis IX of France, and afterwards King of Naples and Sicily. We are reminded of this close connection between the royal houses of France and England when we see on the Abbey walls the shield of Eleanor’s father, Raymond Berengar, Count of Provence. When Henry III died in 1272 he was buried, not where his tomb now is, but in front of the high altar, in the grave where the Confessor’s body had first rested. The beautiful tomb in the Confessor’s Chapel was not finished until 1291, Edward I having brought from France the precious marbles and porphyry slabs for its decoration. The tomb, like the Confessor’s, is of Italian design, but the fine effigy is the work of an Englishman, William Torel.

When Henry’s body was at last placed there, his heart, according to an old promise, was given in a golden cup to the Abbess of Fontevrault, who was present at the ceremony. Like the heart of his father, King John, it was to be taken back to the old Plantagenet home.

Thus began the circle of stately tombs which stand round the Confessor’s shrine in that tall, silent, shadowy chapel, now often called the Chapel of the Kings.

One thing to be remembered about the tombs of the Plantagenets is that they actually hold the body of the sovereign, and are not just monuments over a grave. In later days it became the fashion to bury in vaults.

Some years before Henry III’s death his beautiful little dumb daughter, Katherine, was buried in a small tomb in the South Ambulatory, close to St. Edmund’s Chapel. With her are buried two of her brothers who died young, and four young children of King Edward I.

We have already heard about the heart of another Plantagenet, Prince Henry d’Almayne, whose body, like that of his father, Richard Earl of Cornwall, is buried at Hayles, in Gloucestershire.

On either side of Henry III are buried Edward I, and his wife, Eleanor of Castile, daughter of Ferdinand III, King of Castile and Leon. Every one remembers how Queen Eleanor went out with her husband to the Crusades, and how she is said to have saved his life by sucking the poison from his wound. Eleanor, the “Queen of good memory,” died in Lincolnshire in 1290, and of the famous crosses which were put up at each place where her body rested, three still remain, at Northampton, Geddington, and Waltham. Queen Eleanor’s tomb is very beautiful, and so is her effigy, which was made by the same English artist who made the effigy of her father-in-law, King Henry III. The lower part of the tomb is decorated with shields, and one of them is the shield of Castile and Leon, with the castle and the lion upon it.

Edward I, the greatest soldier and lawgiver of all the Plantagenet kings, died in 1307 at the little village of Burgh-on-the-Sands, on the coast of Cumberland, when he was on his way to Scotland to try and crush the rising of the Scots under Robert Bruce.

He is buried in a very plain, rough-looking tomb, and it is thought that the tomb may have been left in an almost unfinished state in order that it might be easily opened, for, as we know, Edward I wished his bones to be carried at the head of the English army until Scotland was quite conquered. He also desired that his heart should be sent to Holy Land, where he had fought when he was young. But Edward II did not keep any of the promises he made to his father, and was very unworthy of his great name.

On Edward I’s tomb are some Latin words which mean, “Hammer of the Scots,” and “Keep troth.”

[D. Weller
TOMBS OF EDMUND AND AVELINE OF LANCASTER, AND OF AYMER DE VALENCE.

The tomb was opened in the year 1771, and an inner coffin of Purbeck marble was found, in which the King’s body lay. He must have been a very tall man, as, after all those centuries, he still measured 6 feet 2 inches. It is thus quite easy to understand why he was called “Longshanks.” The body was dressed in a red dalmatic, and over it a royal mantle of rich crimson satin, fastened with a splendid fibula or clasp. On the head was a gilt crown; in the right hand was the sceptre with the cross; in the left, the sceptre with the dove.

The coffin was afterwards securely closed, and has never been disturbed again.

Next to the tomb of Edward I, and just beyond the screen which separates the Chapel of the Kings from the Sacrarium, is the beautiful and highly decorated tomb of his brother, Edmund Crouchback, first Earl of Lancaster. He was the fourth son of Henry III, who named him after the Anglo-Saxon martyr-King, St. Edmund of East Anglia. There is a chapel dedicated to St. Edmund in the Abbey, and it was looked upon as coming next in honour after the Chapel of the Confessor.

Edmund Crouchback was a crusader, like his brother, King Edward I, and the cross or “crouch” he wore was probably the origin of his name, although some people have thought that he was perhaps hump-backed. Edmund and his first wife, the beautiful Aveline of Lancaster, were the first bride and bridegroom to be married in Henry III’s new church. They were married in 1269, but Aveline did not live very long. Her tomb is quite near her husband’s, and is considered to be one of the finest in the Abbey. Aveline was not only a great beauty, but also a great heiress, and her wealth descended to the House of Lancaster. After Aveline’s death, Edmund married Blanche, Queen of Navarre, a French princess. She was a widow when Edmund married her, and her daughter Joan afterwards married King Philip the Fair of France. Edmund and his second wife lived for some time at Provins, in Champagne, and from that town they brought to England the famous red roses which became the badge of the House of Lancaster. These roses were said to have been brought from the East by Crusaders. They still grow at Provins, and have a very sweet scent.

Edmund Crouchback died at Bayonne in 1296, while he was fighting for the English possessions in Gascony.

When Edmund was only eight years old, Pope Innocent II had given him the title of King of Sicily and Apulia, but this was only an empty honour, and meant that the English had to be heavily taxed in order to support Edmund’s claim and satisfy the Pope. All these exactions of Henry III’s helped to make the English more and more determined not to be taxed without their consent, and had a great deal to do with the beginning of the House of Commons in Simon de Montfort’s time.

Before passing on to the later descendants of Henry III, we must speak of two very interesting tombs which recall some important things in English history. These are, first, the tomb of William de Valence, in St. Edmund’s Chapel; and secondly, the tomb of his son Aymer, which stands in the Sacrarium, between the tombs of Edmund and Aveline of Lancaster.

It will be remembered that Henry III’s mother, Isabella of Angoulême, married again after King John’s death. She married the Count of La Marche and Poitiers, who belonged to the Lusignan family,—a family which was very well known in Europe, some of them being Kings of Cyprus and Jerusalem. The children of Isabella and the Count de la Marche came over to England, and the English people greatly disliked their insolence and greediness, complaining that Henry III gave too many titles and too much money to his French relations. William de Valence was the fourth son of the Count de la Marche, and was the most disliked of all Henry’s half-brothers. He was created Earl of Pembroke. He took an active part in the Barons’ War, and was finally sent on the expedition into Gascony with his nephew, Edmund Crouchback. Like Edmund, he died at Bayonne in 1296. His tomb is of French workmanship, and there are still some remains of the famous Limoges enamel which decorated it.

Aymer de Valence, William’s son, succeeded his father as Earl of Pembroke. He fought bravely in the Scottish wars, and was at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314. He was much blamed for his cruelty in having Nigel Bruce hanged at the Castle of Kentire. Aymer died in France in 1324, very suddenly, and many people thought it was a punishment for taking part in the condemnation and death of Thomas Earl of Lancaster, son of Edmund Crouchback, who was revered as a saint. Aymer’s tomb is celebrated for its beauty. It is very like Edmund Crouchback’s, with its pinnacled canopy and niches for statues. Aymer is represented on the canopy in full armour and riding his war-horse.

The three tombs of Edmund Crouchback, Aymer de Valence, and Aveline of Lancaster are among the most beautiful in the Abbey, and are thought by some people to be all three the work of one artist.

King Edward II, Edward of Carnarvon, as he was called from his birthplace in Wales, is not buried in the Abbey, but at Gloucester, that town being near Berkeley Castle, where he was murdered.

We are specially reminded of King Edward III in the Abbey, for not only is he buried there, but the great sword and shield of state which were carried before him during his wars with France are placed in the Confessor’s Chapel, close to the Coronation Chair. This sword and shield make us think of those famous Battles of Crécy and Poitiers, where Edward III and the Black Prince fought.

Edward III is buried in a beautiful tomb just opposite to Henry III, and his good Queen, Philippa of Hainault, is buried next to him, according to her own wish. Her tomb was made by a Flemish artist, and was also a very fine one, but, like many others in the Abbey, it has been sadly destroyed. Queen Philippa is, of course, always remembered for having begged for the lives of the brave citizens of Calais when the King had ordered them to be hanged.

Photo W. Rice, F.R.P.S. Allen & Co (London) Ltd Sc
Tomb of Prince John of Eltham. in S. Edmund’s Chapel.

Close to Philippa lies her son, Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester, murdered, it is to be feared, by order of his nephew, Richard II.

Eleanor de Bohun, widow of Thomas Duke of Gloucester, is buried in St. Edmund’s Chapel, and the memorial brass on her tomb is the most beautiful now left in the Abbey.

In St. Edmund’s Chapel is the tomb of another Plantagenet, Prince John of Eltham, Earl of Cornwall, brother of Edward III. He took his name from the old palace at Eltham, where he was born. Prince John died quite young, but he had already shown great promise as a soldier, and was three times Regent of the kingdom when Edward III was away in France and Scotland. He bears a shield with the lions of England and lilies of France upon it. His mother was a French princess, daughter of King Philip the Fair, and it was through her that Edward III thought he could claim the throne of France. Close to the tomb of Prince John of Eltham is the tiny tomb of two young children of Edward III, called, from their birthplaces, William of Windsor and Blanche of the Tower.

Two grandchildren of Edward I, Hugh and Mary de Bohun, are buried in the Chapel of St. Nicholas, another of the circle of chapels which crowns the eastern end, or apse, of the Abbey. (St. Nicholas is the patron saint of children.)

The Black Prince is buried in Canterbury Cathedral, close to where the shrine of Thomas à Becket once stood, but his son, the unhappy Richard II, had a great love for the Abbey, where he had not only been crowned, but also married to his beloved first wife, Anne of Bohemia, who was a descendant of the “Good King Wenceslas,” about whom we sing in the carol for St. Stephen’s Day.

Richard II is buried in the Abbey, and the great tomb in which he and Anne rest was made for her. Anne died in 1394, and her funeral was a very splendid ceremony, hundreds of wax candles having been brought over from Flanders to be lighted at the service. The tomb itself is very magnificent; the gilt-bronze decorations and the robes of the effigies are engraved with the leopards of England, the broomcods of the Plantagenets, the ostrich feathers and lions of Bohemia, and the sun rising through the clouds of Crécy. The ostrich feathers should remind us of the crest and motto of the Prince of Wales.

Richard himself was not placed in this tomb until fourteen years after his supposed murder, when his body was brought back from Friars’ Langley by Henry V, in obedience to the wish of Henry IV. In the Sacrarium is a beautiful portrait of Richard II, painted in his lifetime, and therefore the oldest painting of any British sovereign. This portrait was very carefully restored some years ago, and represents Richard in his crown and royal robes, sitting in the Chair of State, very probably as he used to appear in the Abbey on high festivals. Richard’s well-known badge of the White Hart was painted on more than one part of the Abbey, and it is interesting to see that, in old pictures of Richard, he and his followers wear the badge of the White Hart. Many inns in England are still called by this name.

With Richard II the direct Plantagenet line ends, and his is the last tomb in the circle round the Confessor’s shrine.

Before speaking of the Plantagenet Houses of Lancaster and York we must mention some of the chief men of this time who are buried in the Abbey. First and foremost of these is the great poet, Geoffrey Chaucer, author of the famous Canterbury Tales, and the father of English poetry.

He was born in 1328, the year after Edward III came to the throne, and died in 1400, a year after Richard II. Chaucer lived in a house close to the old Lady Chapel built by Henry III, and his house was one of those pulled down in later days to make room for the larger Chapel of Henry VII. Chaucer is buried in Poet’s Corner, and is the first of its glorious circle of poets. His monument, which is quite near his grave, was not put up until about 150 years after his death. Just above the monument is a modern stained-glass window in Chaucer’s memory, representing scenes from his life, and from the Canterbury Tales.

The only person not of royal blood who is buried in the Chapel of the Kings is Richard’s great friend, John of Waltham, Bishop of Salisbury, who was Lord Treasurer, Keeper of the Great Seal, and Master of the Rolls. He was the first statesman to be buried in the Abbey. In St. Edmund’s Chapel are buried Ralph Waldeby, Archbishop of York, a friend of the Black Prince and tutor to Richard II, and Sir Bernard Brocas, who was renowned for his fighting in the Moorish wars. He died in 1400. His son-in-law, Sir John Golofre, another great friend of Richard II, was buried in the South Ambulatory in 1396. He was Richard’s ambassador in France, and was buried in the Abbey by his master’s express command.

Our next chapter must be about those younger branches of the Plantagenet family, the Houses of Lancaster and York, who also hold a place in the Abbey.

[D. Weller.
CHAUCER’S TOMB.

CHAPTER V
THE HOUSES OF LANCASTER AND YORK: 1399 to 1485

Plantagenet:

“Let him that is a true-born gentleman,

And stands upon the honour of his birth,

If he suppose that I have pleaded truth,

From off this briar pluck a white rose with me.”

Somerset:

“Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer,

But dare maintain the party of the truth,

Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.”

Shakspeare (King Henry VI, part 1, ii, 4).

The name of Henry of Bolingbroke, son of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, reminds us that Richard II had been made to resign his crown, and that his cousin had been proclaimed King as King Henry IV. We think, too, of that sad death, or murder, of the unhappy Richard at Pontefract Castle. All these things, in one way or another, are connected with the history of the Abbey. Henry IV is not buried in the Abbey, but in Canterbury Cathedral, opposite the Black Prince, and, like him, near the shrine of St. Thomas. But although Westminster is not his last resting-place, Henry IV is connected with the Abbey in a very special way.

The story is familiar to us in the pages of Shakspeare. The King had intended to set out for Palestine on a pilgrimage or crusade, and he had heard a prophecy that he should die at Jerusalem. Just before he was going to start he came to the Abbey to pray at the Confessor’s shrine. While he was in the Chapel he was seized with mortal illness, and was carried into the famous “Jerusalem Chamber,” which was part of the Abbot’s house. The Jerusalem Chamber had been built not long before, and was probably the only room near with a proper fireplace in it. It was cold March weather, and Henry was laid in front of the fire. When he came to himself a little he asked what that room was, and being told its name, he said: “Praise be to the Father of Heaven! for now I know that I shall die in this chamber, according to the prophecy made of me beforesaid, that I should die in Jerusalem.”

Every one will remember how an old historian tells us that afterwards, when the young Prince Harry was watching by his father, he took the crown and put it on his own head, thinking that his father was dead. The King, however, was not dead, and, turning round, he reproached the prince for his heartless and undutiful hurry in taking the crown. Prince Harry was very much grieved, and explained why he had done such a thing.

After Henry IV’s death, Prince Harry, now King Henry V, spent all that day at Westminster, in sorrow and penitence for his wild life in the past. At night he went and confessed his sins to a holy hermit who lived close to the Abbey, and the hermit assured him that he would be forgiven. As we all know, Henry V became a religious and determined man, and a great soldier,—“Conqueror of his enemies and of himself.” Henry V was crowned in the Abbey on Passion Sunday, 1413, a cold, snowy day.

The wars in France soon began, and in 1415 a “Te Deum” was sung in the Abbey for Henry’s great victory at Agincourt, and the King attended this service in person.

Like his father, Henry V had a great wish to go to Holy Land and conquer the Holy Sepulchre from the infidels, but while he was hoping for this crusade, he was stricken with illness at Vincennes, and died in 1422, when he was only thirty-four.

It is said that the people of both Rouen and Paris were most anxious that Henry should be buried in their town, but the King had said clearly in his will that he wished to be buried at Westminster, and he had described most carefully what he wanted his Chantry Chapel to be like.

The funeral of Henry V was the most splendid ever seen in the Abbey. The great procession began in Paris, and escorted the body to Calais. It then came on from Dover to London. James I, King of Scots, headed the procession as chief mourner, and the widowed Queen, Katherine de Valois, followed it.

The King’s tomb stands at the extreme eastern end of the Abbey, and over it, between the tombs of Queen Eleanor and Queen Philippa, rises the famous Chantry Chapel, where prayers were to be offered up for ever.

Among the statues that adorn the Chantry are those of St. George, the patron saint of England, and St. Denys, the patron saint of France.

On a bar above the Chantry are hung King Henry V’s shield, saddle, and helmet, just as the Black Prince’s armour is hung above his tomb in Canterbury Cathedral.

The tomb below was once very splendid with gold and silver, and the figure of King Henry had a silver head. But in the reign of Henry VIII these magnificent decorations were stolen, and the robbers even carried off the silver head of the effigy. All that remains of the effigy is the figure of plain English oak.

We come next to the pious and gentle King Henry VI, who was so much loved by his people, in spite of all the misfortunes of his reign. It is sad to think how all Henry V’s conquests in France were lost one by one, although it was a good thing for England in the end. But there is one glorious memory connected with the wars of Henry VI’s reign, a memory which we all love and revere, whether we are French or English. That is the memory of Joan of Arc, that pure and noble young French girl whose faith and courage saved her country. When we stand in the Abbey and remember the Lancastrian Kings, it is good for us also to think of her.

Henry VI always intended to be buried in the Abbey, and one day, when he was there, some one suggested to him that his father’s tomb should be moved to one side, and that his own should be placed beside it. But Henry answered: “Nay, let him alone: he lieth like a noble prince. I would not trouble him.” At last Henry VI chose a grave for himself close to the Confessor’s shrine; the spot was all marked out, and indeed the tomb itself was ordered. Then came the Wars of the Roses, the defeat of the Lancastrian party, and the imprisonment of Henry VI in the Tower of London in 1461. After his mysterious death ten years later, his body was buried at Chertsey Abbey. Afterwards, in the reign of Richard III, it was moved to St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, where it still rests.

The French princess, Katherine de Valois, wife of Henry V and mother of Henry VI, is now buried in Henry V’s Chantry. It will be remembered that her second husband was Owen Tudor, and that their son, Edmund Tudor, was the father of King Henry VII. After Katherine married Owen Tudor she seemed to be quite forgotten, but when she died she was buried with all honour in the old Lady Chapel. While Henry VII’s new Lady Chapel was being built, the coffin was placed beside Henry V’s tomb, and remained there in a most neglected state for many long years. Then it was removed to a vault in the Chapel of St. Nicholas, and finally it was moved, by permission of Queen Victoria, into Henry V’s Chantry, where at last poor Queen Katherine rests in peace.

In 1461, when Henry VI was deposed, a prince of the House of York, Edward IV, came to the throne. He died at Westminster, and had a great funeral service in the Abbey, but he is buried in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, like his cousin, Henry VI.

The earliest monument of the House of York in the Abbey is the tomb of Philippa, Duchess of York, in the Chapel of St. Nicholas. She was the wife of Edward, second Duke of York, grandson of Edward III, who was killed at Agincourt. After his death, Philippa was made Lady of the Isle of Wight.

King Richard III is buried at Leicester, and after him came the poor little Edward V, who, with his brother, Richard Duke of York, was murdered in the Tower. Their bones remained at the Tower until the reign of Charles II, when they were found under a staircase. Charles II commanded that they should be brought to the Abbey, and they are placed in a tomb in Henry VII’s Chapel. Strangely enough, both these little princes are closely connected with Westminster. In 1470, Queen Elizabeth Woodville, wife of Edward IV, had taken refuge in the Sanctuary at Westminster. Nobody could dare to hurt any one who had taken sanctuary, and so the Queen felt she was safe in that time of war and trouble. Here Edward V was born. He was baptized in the Abbey, and the Abbot of Westminster was one of his godfathers.

Then later on, after Edward IV’s death, when Richard III was trying to get the crown for himself, Elizabeth Woodville again took shelter in the Sanctuary at Westminster, and brought her five daughters and her second son, the little Richard Duke of York. Edward V was already in the Tower. Richard III sent to Westminster, and insisted that his young nephew should be allowed to join Edward in the Tower. He dared not take him out of Sanctuary by force, but he made the Archbishop of Canterbury persuade the poor Queen to let the boy go. She was dreadfully grieved, and tried all she could to keep her son safely with her, but in vain. They parted with tears, and she never saw him again.

A little daughter of Edward IV, Margaret Plantagenet, is buried in a tiny tomb in the Confessor’s Chapel. In the Islip Chapel is the grave of Anne Mowbray, daughter of the Duke of Norfolk. She was betrothed to Richard Duke of York when they were both little children of only five years old.

Anne Neville, the unhappy wife of Richard III, and daughter of Warwick “the Kingmaker,” lies in a forgotten grave in the South Ambulatory.

We see, then, how much there is in the Abbey to remind us of the Houses of Lancaster and York, and of the Wars of the Roses, besides the great wars in France.

But further, we shall now find that it was becoming more and more the custom for the famous men of the age to be buried in the Abbey.

Richard Courtney, Bishop of Norwich, a great friend of Henry V, is buried there. He died just before the Battle of Agincourt, and was nursed by the King in his last illness. In St. Paul’s Chapel is the fine tomb of Ludovic Robsert, Lord Bourchier, who fought at Agincourt and was afterwards made the King’s Standard Bearer. Sir Humphrey Bourchier, who died fighting on the Yorkist side at the Battle of Barnet in 1471, is buried in Edmund’s Chapel. Sir Thomas Vaughan, Treasurer to Edward IV and Chamberlain to Edward V, is buried in the Chapel of St. John the Baptist.

While speaking of this time in English history, we must not forget one man who did a very great and important work in the world, and who was very closely connected with the Abbey, although he is not actually buried there. This was William Caxton, the first English printer. Caxton belongs almost entirely to the Lancastrian and Yorkist times, as he was born in 1410, during the reign of Henry IV, and died in 1491, in the reign of Henry VII. About the year 1471 (the year in which Henry VI died) Caxton came to live in Westminster. He set up his printing-press in a house quite close to the Abbey, and there he worked for the last twenty years of his life. It seems that the Abbot of Westminster was greatly interested in Caxton and his work, and one of his great friends and patrons was the Lady Margaret, mother of King Henry VII. Caxton printed several books for her. Caxton is buried quite near the Abbey, in St. Margaret’s Churchyard. There is a fine stained-glass window to his memory in St. Margaret’s Church. Caxton stood on the threshhold of the modern world, and, as we realise the great changes brought about in human life by the art of printing, we may think of that window in St. Margaret’s, where Caxton is represented holding his motto: “Fiat Lux” (let there be light), while below are Tennyson’s beautiful lines:

“Thy prayer was Light, more Light while time shall last,

Thou sawest the glories growing on the night;

But not the shadow which that light would cast

Till shadows vanish in the Light of light.”

With this thought in our minds we will turn to the next period of English history.

CHAPTER VI
THE HOUSE OF TUDOR

“Fair is our lot—O goodly is our heritage!

(Humble ye, my people, and be fearful in your mirth!)

For the Lord our God Most High

He hath made the deep as dry,

He hath smote for us a pathway to the ends of all the earth.”

Rudyard Kipling (The Seven Seas).

The famous House of Tudor, in which the Plantagenet lines of York and Lancaster were united, is in many ways very closely connected with the Abbey. All the Tudor sovereigns, except one, are buried in the Abbey. But this is not all, for the Abbey and the School owe their present establishment to Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth, as we shall find later on.

It was in the Tudor times that modern England really began, and most of the great changes that took place in the Church and the nation at that time are faithfully reflected in the Abbey history. We can read them there, just as we can read the story of the Norman Conquest, of the Conquest of Scotland, or of the French Wars.

We ought also to look beyond our own country, and remember what was going on in other parts of the world. While the Tudors were reigning in England, Christopher Columbus discovered America, and the Portuguese navigator, Vasco de Gama, sailed round the Cape of Good Hope, thus finding a new way to the East Indies. These two discoveries made a great change in the history of the world, and some of the monuments in the Abbey will speak to us of the difference which those discoveries made to England.

When we speak of the Tudors we naturally think first of King Henry VII, who built the beautiful chapel at the eastern end of the Abbey, directing that it should be the burial-place of himself and his family.

The foundation of the Chapel has an interesting history connected with the House of Lancaster. Through his mother, Margaret Beaufort, Henry VII descended from John of Gaunt, and therefore from Edward III, and he was very anxious that people should remember this. Partly for that reason, he wanted very much to bring the body of Henry VI from Windsor, and to bury it in the new, splendid chapel at Westminster. He also wished the Pope to declare Henry VI to be a saint; and indeed, many people at that time thought him to be so. However, it happened that the body of Henry VI was never moved from Windsor after all, but there was at that time an altar to his memory in Henry VII’s Chapel.

[D. Weller.
MARGARET BEAUFORT, COUNTESS OF RICHMOND, AND MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.

The great gates and the sculptured ornament of the Chapel are in themselves quite a lesson in English history. On the gates and on the walls we see the famous Tudor Roses, which are the red and white roses of Lancaster and York united. There is also the Portcullis of the Beaufort Castle in Anjou, which castle had belonged to Edmund Crouchback, and descended through him to John of Gaunt. Again, we see the crown caught in a bush on Bosworth Field, and two Yorkist badges, the Rose in the Sun, and the Falcon on the Fetterlock. On the gates, too, we find the daisy or “Marguérite,” the name-flower of Henry VII’s mother, the Lady Margaret. Last, but not least, we find the Red Dragon of the last British King, Cadwallader, from whom Henry VII claimed to descend, reminding us that the Tudors boasted of descent from the ancient British stock,—from King Arthur and Llewellyn. Round the Chapel, in the graceful little niches that adorn the walls, are statues of angels and saints. Among them are the Apostles, some of the martyrs, and also the royal saints of Britain, St. Edward, St. Edmund, St. Oswald, and St. Margaret of Scotland.

The first person to be buried in Henry VII’s Chapel was his wife, Elizabeth of York, daughter of Edward IV. She died in 1503, and was first buried in one of the side Chapels, until her husband’s new Chapel was ready.

In 1509, Henry VII died, and was buried in the middle of the nave of his Chapel. The funeral ceremony was very splendid, and over his grave rises one of the most magnificent tombs in the whole Abbey. The monument itself was made by the great Florentine sculptor, Torrigiano, who was a fellow-student and rival of Michael Angelo. We are told that Torrigiano broke Michael Angelo’s nose in a fight they had at Florence. At any rate, he knew how to design a beautiful monument.

The bronze screen round the tomb is of English work and Gothic design, and is in quite a different style from the Italian Renaissance tomb within.

Three months afterwards, Henry’s mother, Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond and Derby, died, and was buried in the South Aisle of her son’s Chapel. She died just at the time of the rejoicings for the Coronation of her grandson, Henry VIII, and of Catherine of Aragon. The “Lady Margaret” was greatly honoured and beloved. She was a patroness of learning, and founded two colleges at Cambridge, and Professorships of Divinity at both Oxford and Cambridge. She was also a good friend to William Caxton the printer, as we have already heard. Her tomb was made by the same Florentine artist, Torrigiano, and is most beautiful. The effigy represents the Lady Margaret in her widow’s dress, her hands uplifted in prayer. The epitaph round the edge of the monument was written by the great Erasmus, who was a friend of Lady Margaret’s, and who was one of the earliest Lady Margaret Professors of Divinity at Cambridge, Bishop John Fisher being the first.

Another of the family, Owen Tudor, uncle of Henry VII, took refuge in the Sanctuary at Westminster during the Civil Wars, and became a monk. He is buried in the South Transept. A little daughter of Henry VII, Elizabeth Tudor, is buried in a tiny tomb in the Confessor’s Chapel, close to Henry III. A little son, Edward, is also buried in the Abbey. Henry VIII had intended to be buried at Westminster with his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, to whom he was married in the Abbey. Indeed, he had actually ordered Torrigiano to make the effigies for the tomb. But, as we know, everything changed, and Henry VIII is buried in St. George’s, Windsor, with his third wife, Jane Seymour, mother of King Edward VI.

Anne of Cleves is the only one of Henry’s six wives who is buried in the Abbey. Her grave is in the South Ambulatory, and she has a large and rather ugly monument in the Sacrarium, just opposite to the tomb of Aymer de Valence. Anne of Cleves died at Chelsea in 1557.

One great name of Tudor times, that of Cardinal Wolsey, is brought back to us when we remember that in 1515 his Cardinal’s hat arrived from Rome, and was received with great pomp at the Abbey. A stately service was held; the Archbishop of Canterbury set the hat on Wolsey’s head, and a “Te Deum” was sung. Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon, and Henry’s sister Mary, the French Queen, were present at the ceremony.

The boy King, Edward VI, is buried close to his grandfather, Henry VII. He was buried by Archbishop Cranmer, who was his godfather, and who had baptized and crowned him. Edward VI has no monument, but the altar of the chapel stands over his grave. The original altar was the work of Torrigiano, and must have been very beautiful. It was destroyed in the time of the Commonwealth, but parts of it have been found and are used in the present altar. The cross on this altar has a special interest for us all, because it was given to the Abbey by Ras Makonnen, the Abyssinian envoy, at the time of King Edward VII’s serious illness, when the Coronation had to be put off. The cross is of a very ancient pattern, and there is an Ethiopian inscription upon it.

Not far from the grave of Edward VI there stood for many years a pulpit—now in the Nave—from which it is believed Archbishop Cranmer preached at the Coronation and funeral of his royal godson, Edward VI, in 1553.

In the north aisle of Henry VII’s Chapel the two Tudor Queens, Mary and Elizabeth, are buried. Poor Queen Mary had taken much care for the Abbey. During the reigns of Henry VIII and Edward VI great changes had been made there; the monks had been sent away, and, unfortunately, many of the precious and beautiful things that belonged to the church and monastery had been removed or destroyed. It was even said that Protector Somerset wanted to pull down the Abbey itself. Queen Mary brought the monks back, with Abbot Feckenham to rule over them; she restored the Confessor’s shrine, and had the church and the services arranged again as they had been in the old days before the Reformation.

After her short, unhappy reign, Mary Tudor was laid to rest in her grandfather’s chapel. No monument was erected to her, and it is sad to think that very few of her subjects mourned for her. We are told that when the various altars in the chapel were taken down, the stones were piled up over her grave. Perhaps it was intended to make them into a monument later on. Another forty-five years passed, and then, in 1603, Queen Elizabeth died, to the great grief of all her people, whose lamentations followed her to her grave in the Abbey. She rests there, in the same vault as her sister Mary, the vault being so narrow that Queen Elizabeth’s coffin had to be placed on the top of Queen Mary’s. The monument, which is a fine one of its kind, is to Queen Elizabeth alone, and was erected to her memory by her cousin and successor, King James I. The epitaph on the western end of the monument mentions both the Tudor sister-queens, and runs as follows: “Consorts both in throne and grave, here rest we two sisters, Elizabeth and Mary, in the hope of the resurrection.”

It is now time to speak of some other famous people who belonged to the Tudor times, and who are buried in the Abbey. Among these are the following:—

Sir Humphrey Stanley, who fought on Henry VII’s side at Bosworth, and was knighted by him after the battle. Sir Humphrey died in 1505, and is buried in the Chapel at St. Nicholas.

Sir Giles Daubeny and his wife, who are buried in St Paul’s Chapel. Sir Giles Daubeny was Lord Lieutenant of Calais in Henry VII’s time, when Calais still belonged to England. He died in 1508.

Then come some of the great ladies of the Tudor Court, namely:

Frances Grey, Duchess of Suffolk, granddaughter of Henry VII and mother of the unfortunate Lady Jane Grey, who, as every one remembers, was Queen of England for twelve days after the death of Edward VI. The Duchess is buried in St. Edmund’s Chapel, close to some of the Plantagenets, and on the spot where the altar used to stand.

Anne Seymour, the wife of Protector Somerset, is buried in the Chapel of St. Nicholas. She was sister-in-law to Queen Jane Seymour, mother of Edward VI. From what is told us about her she seems to have been both very clever and very fierce-tempered, and to have made people afraid of her. She lived on into the days of Elizabeth, and died in 1587, aged ninety.

In the same chapel is a tablet in memory of Jane Seymour, daughter of Protector Somerset. She was cousin to Edward VI, and it had been intended that he should marry her.

Another name of interest is that of Frances Howard, Countess of Hertford, sister of the Lord Howard of Effingham who defeated the Spanish Armada. She is buried in St. Benedict’s Chapel.

In St. Paul’s Chapel are the grave and monument of Frances Sidney, Countess of Sussex. She was the aunt of the famous Sir Philip Sidney, the soldier and poet. This lady was the foundress of Sidney Sussex College at Cambridge, which is called after her.

In the Chapel of St. John the Baptist is the enormous monument—thirty-six feet high—of Henry Cary, Lord Hunsdon, who died in 1596. His mother was a sister of Queen Anne Boleyn, and thus he was Queen Elizabeth’s first cousin. He was Lord Chamberlain to Queen Elizabeth, and was always a most devoted servant and friend to her. He had special charge of the Queen at the time of the Spanish Armada. It is said that he died partly of disappointment at having to wait a long time before Queen Elizabeth would make him Earl of Wiltshire. When he was dying the Queen came to see him, and, having brought the patent for the earldom and the robes, she had them put down on his bed. But Lord Hunsdon said to her: “Madam, seeing you counted me not worthy of this honour whilst I was living, I count myself unworthy of it now I am dying.”

In the Chapel of St. Nicholas are buried the wife and daughter of the great Lord Burleigh, Mildred, Lady Burleigh, and Anne, Countess of Oxford. Lord Burleigh’s own funeral service took place in the Abbey, but he is buried at Stamford. On the monument to his wife and daughter is a figure of Lord Burleigh himself, kneeling, “his eyes dim with tears for the loss of those who were dear to him beyond the whole race of womankind.” One of the figures on the tomb is that of Robert Cecil, first Earl of Salisbury, and this is especially interesting when we think of the monument to the Lord Salisbury of our own day (also a Robert Cecil) which has just been placed in the Abbey, close to the Great West Door.

Several other members of the Cecil family are buried in the Abbey, one of the chief among them being Thomas Cecil, first Earl of Exeter.

Two of the famous lawyers of the time buried in the Abbey are Sir Thomas Bromley and Sir John Puckering. Sir Thomas Bromley, who is buried in the Chapel of St. Paul, succeeded Sir Nicholas Bacon as Lord Keeper, and was the chief judge at the trial of Mary, Queen of Scots. Sir John Puckering, who is buried in the same chapel, had also to do with the trials both of Mary and of her secretary, Davison.

Some of Queen Elizabeth’s great soldiers rest in the Abbey. First among these we will mention Sir Francis Vere, who fought in the Flemish Wars and commanded the forces in the Netherlands. His monument, in the Chapel of St. John the Evangelist, is celebrated for its beauty. It is said to be copied from the tomb of Count Engelbrecht II of Nassau in the church at Breda.

Others of the Vere family are buried near Sir Francis. Close to this monument is that of George Holles, who fought in the same wars. Another young soldier of the same family, Francis Holles, is buried in St. Edmund’s Chapel. Both their monuments are interesting, because the statue of Sir George Holles is the first standing figure put up in the Abbey, and that of Francis one of the earliest sitting figures. And besides this, the statue of Sir George Holles is the first represented in Roman armour, instead of in the costume of the time.

The fashion of monuments changed a good deal in the Elizabethan days. In older times people were always represented lying down, with their hands clasped in prayer, like the figures of the Plantagenets, for instance. But the statues on the Elizabethan tombs represent people leaning upon their elbows, or sitting, or standing. We shall see that, later on, they are not content even with that, but wave their arms aloft, as if talking to a crowd of people.

Another very fine Elizabethan tomb is that of Lord and Lady Norris, who were great friends of Queen Elizabeth. This huge erection is in the Chapel of St. Andrew, not far from the monument of Sir Francis Vere. The kneeling figures round the tomb represent the six sons of Lord and Lady Norris, who were all fine, brave soldiers, and fought in the Netherlands and elsewhere.

But besides soldiers, lawyers, and great ladies, there are other Elizabethan names connected with the Abbey—three of these names more famous than any we have yet mentioned. These three are Edmund Spenser, William Shakspeare and Sir Walter Raleigh. It is true that the two last of these great men lived on some time after the death of Queen Elizabeth, but as they always seem to belong more to her reign than to any other, we will speak of them now, after Spenser. Edmund Spenser, author of the Faërie Queen, died in Westminster, and is buried in Poets’ Corner. A very plain monument marks the spot, but the epitaph is a beautiful one: “Here lyes, expecting the second comminge of our Saviour Christ Jesus, the body of Edmond Spenser, the Prince of Poets in his tyme, whose divine spirrit needs noe othir witnesse then the workes he left behinde him.”

[D. Weller.
SHAKSPEARE’S MONUMENT.

It is said that when Spenser was buried the poets who were present threw their elegies and their pens into the grave. Probably, then, Shakspeare’s pen is lying there, on Spenser’s coffin.

Then we come to Shakspeare himself,—the poet who is the glory of the English race, and famous throughout the whole of the civilised world. Shakspeare, as we know, is not buried in the Abbey, but in the Parish Church of his native town, Stratford-on-Avon. The monument in the Abbey was not put up until long years after his death. On it are the famous lines from The Tempest—

“The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherits, shall dissolve;

And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind.”

The connexion of Sir Walter Raleigh with the Abbey is not so direct, because he is not buried there, but in St. Margaret’s, close by. However, Raleigh was imprisoned in the old Gatehouse of the monastery the night before his execution, and the Dean of Westminster went to see him, and to pray with him. During that last night of his life Sir Walter Raleigh, after the final parting with his wife, wrote the following well-known lines on the blank leaf of his Bible—

“Ev’n such is Time, that takes on trust

Our youth, our joys, our all we have,

And pays us but with age and dust;

Who in the dark and silent grave

When we have wander’d all our ways,

Shuts up the story of our days.

But from this earth, this grave, this dust,

The Lord shall raise me up, I trust.”

As the colony of Virginia was first founded by Sir Walter Raleigh, his name will always remind us of the beginning of our great Colonial Empire. In St. Margaret’s Church there is a very fine window to Raleigh’s memory. This was given by some citizens of America, and the scenes in the window commemorate the founding of the New World.

One of the chief and earliest promoters of the Virginia Company was the brave soldier, Sir John Ogle, who fought in the Netherlands under Sir Francis Vere, and is buried in the Abbey. No inscription marks his grave.

Somewhere in the Abbey is buried another promoter of the South Virginia Company, Richard Hakluyt, author of a book of Voyages and Travels. Hakluyt was a Westminster scholar. He became a clergyman, and was Prebendary and Archdeacon of Westminster. In the first volume of his Voyages and Travels is a description of the defeat of the Spanish Armada.

Two more Elizabethan monuments may be mentioned before we leave the Tudor times altogether. One is the monument to William Camden, the famous antiquary, who was Head-Master of Westminster School in Queen Elizabeth’s time. He is buried in the South Transept, and his monument stands against its western wall. Camden, like Shakspeare, lived on into the Stuart time, but he seems to belong more especially to Elizabethan days.

The other monument is perhaps more curious than actually interesting. It is that of Elizabeth Russell, goddaughter of Queen Elizabeth, and daughter of a Lord Russell who is buried in the Chapel of St. Nicholas. Elizabeth Russell was born in the Abbey precincts, where her mother had taken refuge from the plague. She had a very grand christening in the Abbey, and the Earl of Leicester stood as godfather. She died young, and was buried in St. Edmund’s Chapel, where her monument represents her sitting in an osier chair. This is the first sitting figure in the Abbey. A curious old story says that Elizabeth Russell died from the prick of a needle, and people added to the story by saying that she had been working on Sunday! Most likely the idea arose because her finger points to a skull at her feet.

We have spoken of Queen Elizabeth’s having established the Abbey as a Collegiate Church, and those who are interested in Westminster may like to know that the first Deans of her time are buried in St. Benedict’s Chapel. These were Dean William Bill and Dean Gabriel Goodman. It was under their rule that the Abbey services were arranged much in their present form.

We have now recalled the chief memories of the Tudor days, so far as that great chapter in English history is recorded in the Abbey.

CHAPTER VII
THE HOUSE OF STUART AND THE COMMONWEALTH

“The old order changeth, yielding place to new,

And God fulfils Himself in many ways,

Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.”

Tennyson (The Passing of Arthur).

From the Tudors and the great people of their reigns we pass on to the House of Stuart, to the troubles of the great Civil War, and to the Restoration of the Stuarts in 1661.

The Abbey history at this time helps us to realise that it was an age of struggle between liberty and despotism, an age when the people were determined to become more and more self-governing. The Tudors had been clever enough and strong enough to rule without making their people discontented. The Stuarts were not wise enough to see that the English spirit of independence would not bear any tyrannical form of government, and as the Stuarts found it difficult to understand this, they ended by losing their kingdom altogether. We shall see how all these things left their mark upon the Abbey itself.

As this chapter has to do with a long and eventful time in English history, it will be divided into three parts. The first part will be about the earlier Stuarts; the second, about the Commonwealth; and the third, about the Stuart Restoration and the most famous men of the Stuart and Commonwealth times.