The curiosities of Westminster Abbey consist chiefly of twelve chapels, the principal of which were visited by Dashall and his cousin; but to the chapel of Henry VII. their chief attention was directed. This chapel is contiguous to the eastern extremity of the church, and opens into it: it is dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and is one of the finest specimens of Gothic antiquity in the world. On its site formerly stood a chapel dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and also a tavern, distinguished by the sign of the White Rose: Henry resolving to erect a superb mausoleum for himself and his family, pulled down the old chapel and tavern, and on the 11th of February in the year 1503, the first stone of the new structure was laid by Abbot Islip, at the King's command. It cost £14,000, an immense sum for that period, particularly considering the rapacious temper of the king. The exterior of the chapel is distinguished by the richness and variety of its form, occasioned chiefly by 14 towers, elegantly proportioned to the body of the edifice, and projecting in different angles from the outer-most wall: the inside is approached by the area at the back of the chapels of Edward the Confessor and Henry v. The floor of this chapel is elevated above that of the area, and the ascent is by a flight of marble steps: the entrance is ornamented with a handsome gothic portico of stone, within which are three large gates of gilt brass, of curious open workmanship, every pannel being enriched with a rose and a portcullis alternately. The chapel consists of the nave and two small aisles: the centre is 99 feet in length, 66 in breadth, and 54 in height, terminating at the east in a curve, and having five deep recesses of a similar form: the entrance to these recesses is by open arches, and they add greatly to the relief and beauty of the building: it is not improbable that they were originally so many smaller chapels, destined to various uses. The side aisles are in a just proportion to the centre, with which they communicate by four arches, turned on gothic pillars; each of them is relieved by four recesses, a window, with minute and curious divisions, running the whole height of each recess. The upper part of the nave has four windows on each side, and ten in the eastern extremity, five above and five below. The whole of the roof of the chapel, including the side aisles and the curve at the end, is of wrought stone, in the gothic style, and of exquisite beauty. An altar-tomb erected by Henry, at the cost of £1000, to receive his last remains, stands in the centre of the chapel. It is of basaltic stone, ornamented and surrounded with a magnificent railing of gilt brass. This monument was constructed by Peter Torregiano, a Florentine artist, and possesses extraordinary merit. Six devices in bas-relief, and four statues, all of gilt brass, adorn the tomb.
In addition to these venerable antiquities, which all deserve to be seen, a variety of figures in wax, and in cases with glazed doors, are shewn as curiosities to the stranger; but they ought to be removed, as disgraceful to the grandeur and solemnity of the other parts of the scene, and as a satire on the national taste, which can scarcely be excused, when such things are exhibited in a room for children's amusement.
Every lover of the arts must lament that this beautiful relic of gothic taste is falling rapidly to decay; notwithstanding, within the last twenty-four years, the Dean and Chapter of Westminster have expended the sum of £28,749 in general repairs of the abbey. Parliament, however, has at last granted the requisite aid, and the sum of £20,000 has been voted to commence the repairs, which are now going on. It has been estimated that the necessary repairs of Henry the VIIth's chapel will cost about £14,800 and the ornamental repairs about £10,400.
The prospect from the western tower of the abbey is more beautiful and picturesque, though less extensive, than that from St. Paul's. The west end of the town and its environs, the Banquetting-house at Whitehall, St. James's park, the gardens of the Queen's palace, the extremity of Piccadilly and Hyde-park, with the Serpentine River, and the distant groves of Kensington Gardens, present a varied and magnificent view towards the west. On the other hand, the bridges of Westminster, Waterloo, and Blackfriars, with the broad expanse of the Thames, and Somerset-house on its banks, and St. Paul's towering pile, together with the light Gothic steeple of St. Dunstan's in the East, present a most noble and interesting prospect. From this tower the exterior form of St. Paul's, when the sun falls upon it, is distinctly seen, and here its exquisite beauty will be more fully comprehended than in any part of the city, for a sufficient area to take in the entire outline is not to be found there.
This prolixity of description will not, we presume, be considered by our readers, as a tedious digression from the main subject.—Real Life in London cannot be better elucidated, than by uniting incident with appropriate anecdote, and amidst the perambulations of our respectable associates, which led them to the ancient and interesting edifice of Westminster Abbey, it necessarily followed that we should illustrate the subject, by a brief, yet accurate and interesting account of the antiquity, et cetera, of the object under consideration.
Having gratified their wishes by a cursory inspection of what their guides were pleased to denominate “Curiosities,” our two heroes were on the eve of departure from the Abbey, when Bob begged that the guide would repeat the terms of admission to view these repositories of mortality.
“The tombs,” said the conductor, “at the east end of the church, with the chapel of Henry VIIth, the price of admission to view these, sir, is six-pence; the models three-pence; the tombs at the northern part of the cross aisle three-pence; and the west end and tower of the abbey six-pence.”
Tallyho expressed his surprise that the house of God and the depository of the dead, should be so shamefully assigned over to the influence of Mammon, and a price of admission as into a place of public amusement, exacted by those to whose mercenary government the ancient structure of Westminster Abbey had devolved. “Was it thus, always,” asked he, “from the time of Henry IIId?” To this enquiry, the guide replied merely by a shrug of his shoulders, rather indicative of contempt than otherways, and to a further question of “Who is the receiver general of these exactions, and to what purpose are they applied?” he preserved a sullen taciturnity.
From the south aisle of the abbey there are two entrances into the cloisters, which are entire, and consist of four arched walks on the sides of an open quadrangle. There are many monuments in these walks, but four of them, beneath which are the remains of four of the abbots of Westminster, at the east end of the south walk, are all which merit particular attention.—
Amongst the ancient records deposited here, the two friends were gratified with a sight of those of the Court of Star-chamber, and of the original Domesday-book, which is still as legible as the first hour it was written.