The earliest architectural remains are the work of Norman abbots. The most perfect relic of this period is Abbot Reginald's Gateway, now leading from the market-place into the churchyard, which consists of side walls both decorated with round arches and shafts. The building above has been much "restored." As there are no signs of stone groining, the superstructure was, in all probability, always of timber, but the design of the arcades, and certain moulded arch stones found embedded in the soil below would seem to point to the existence in former times of two stone arches, one at each end, which would add much to the strength of the building. This gateway stood in a line of wall enclosing the monastic precincts and the outer yard in which stand the parish churches, and stretching to the river eastwards and westwards. The lower portions of the walls have recently been cleared of earth and exposed to view. It will be noticed that the soil has risen by gradual accumulation to a height of several feet above its original level in the seven hundred and fifty years which have elapsed since the construction. In monastic times this gateway figured in the important ceremony attending the installation of a new abbot. Before entering the precincts of the monastery the destined prelate, accompanied by his chaplains and personal following, halted in this corner of the market-place, and after entering one of the adjoining houses where his shoes were removed he proceeded barefoot into the churchyard. The whole convent, duly accoutred, were in waiting, and as soon as the new abbot appeared in the gate they emerged in ordered procession from the north porch of the great church to meet him. After various formalities he was solemnly escorted to the church, where further important ceremonials were performed.
To the previous century may be assigned the bases of the substantial piers which stood at the crossing of the nave and transept, and supported the tower of the great church. These remains may be seen in the excavated hollow a few steps from the southern side of bell tower. The tower of the church was begun by Abbot Walter soon after the Conquest, and there can be little doubt that these massive foundations belong to his time. If we follow the line of wall to the south from this point we come to an arch, bare on this side but elaborately carved on the other with two rows of figures under canopies. This archway was in the east walk of the cloisters, and gave entrance to a vaulted passage connecting the cloisters with the chapter-house. Though the figures have been considerably mutilated and weather-worn it will be seen that the carving is of great beauty; the outer figures are seated while the inner ones stand, and over both are placed canopies of tabernacle work. We know this as the work of Abbot Brokehampton, by whom it was erected early in the fourteenth century. The bare face of the arch was originally hidden by the stone vault forming the roof of the passage already referred to. The chapter-house stood out in the field; but much farther, even to the edge of the bank which slopes down to the monks' fish ponds, did the choir and Lady chapel extend.
As we retrace our steps we follow the line of the transepts. When we reach the exposed foundations, let us pause awhile and allow our imagination full sway. We are standing in the midst of the choir, in the "dim religious light" of a great mediæval church. Above is the "high embowed roof" of the central tower; around are the stalls set in a screen of woodwork intricately carved. All is mellowed by the "storied windows," which break the light into many coloured rays. Looking westward, over the blank wall, we should see in vision the tall rood screen and gallery, and, stretching far beyond, the long vista of Norman arches and painted roof: and through the screen glimpses would reach us of the many-coloured west window. Let us turn round, and in place of sunlit trees and river conjure up the broad flight of stone steps, the stately sanctuary above, with its glorious reredos enriched with tabernacle work and carving, gold, silver, and colours; and the clerestory lights shedding that sweet lustre we have seen somewhere never to forget!
The bell tower rising in solitary state beside us cannot wait for its true chronological order. It is one of the few existing examples of many separate belfries built to hold the bells either for convenience, or in cases where the towers of the church were of insufficient strength. As a rule these buildings were much broader and less graceful in design. This tower has been critcised as "squat," but considering its use it will be seen that a broad base is essential to its character. In reality, it is remarkable how much delicacy and grace have been given by form and proportion, without lessening the strength or utility. The tower was built by Clement Lichfield in the last years of his abbacy, and hardly finished at his resignation in 1539. That the builder and his local contemporaries were proud of this last ornament to the town, is proved by the inscription on Lichfield's grave, which concludes with the line "in whose time the new tower of Evesham was built."
The bell tower is indeed Evesham's chief glory, from some standpoints her principal cause for pride. Unique in its character, it strikes every beholder with surprise and pleasure in proportion to his capacity for the appreciation of stately form and exquisite workmanship. Built by the accomplished and learned Lichfield in the pure perpendicular style, at a time when Gothic architecture was fast sinking in its decline, it would seem to be, not only one of the triumphs of mediæval art, but one of the very last efforts of a dying tradition; in it we see embodied the lofty thought of one of our noblest abbots. Though it has not witnessed the beginnings of the conventual life, the early struggles, nor the palmy days of monasticism, it forms a connecting link between the dim past and this present time. It is, as it were, a monument perpetuating the memory of a great period and a great institution.
If the atmosphere be clear we should ascend the spiral staircase, and from the summit, no great height indeed, we shall gain a view of the town with the encircling river, and the vale with the surrounding hills. The tower still performs its function, and every day the chimes play a different tune, all familiar airs that never tire, but with repetition seem rather to gain in association and charm.
If we take the path from the tower which brings us to the left side of Saint Lawrence's church, we skirt an old wall which bounded the great courtyard of the Abbey, and joined the great church to the gate-house. We soon come to a door of fifteenth century workmanship, and close by is a curious Gothic chimney of about the same date. On the inner side was the porter's lodge, and from here to the adjacent church of Saint Lawrence ran a covered way, probably a vaulted passage like a cloister walk, through which the officiating priest would enter. If we proceed we soon find ourselves at the bottom of Vine Street, and looking across Merstow Green; and over the house-tops, bounding the horizon we see Clark's Hill, a steep bank on the opposite side of the river, traditionally said to have been planted by the monks as a vineyard. On our left is a large plastered building enclosed within substantial iron railings. This was once the great gatehouse of the Monastery, and was built in the fourteenth century by Abbot Chiriton, who obtained a special licence from King Edward the Third to fortify the abbey precincts. The windows and the wing projecting outwards are comparatively modern, but a Gothic window may be seen in the wall facing the churchyard, and the original arches can be traced on the garden front. Close by, and possibly adjoining, was the Barton Gate which led to the stables and outhouses. The long low building of stone and timber, washed over in the old manner with lime, which rises from the grass on our left was once the Almonry of the Abbey. It is now occupied as offices and separate dwellings. The front is extremely picturesque with its buttresses, perpendicular window and quaint openings. The western portion, built mainly of timber, with here and there the remains of carving, and a diaper imprinted on the plaster, contains the great fireplace, clearly indicated on this side by the mass of solid stonework. Turning the corner into Little Abbey Lane we come to the yard at the back, and we may be allowed to view the interior of the Almoner's kitchen, which still retains some of its primitive character. From this apartment a passage runs through the entire length of the building, and this was no doubt originally continued, forming a communication with the main buildings of the Monastery. In the corner of the courtyard, beneath a brick gable which is mere modern patchwork, the passage takes an abrupt turn, and in the angle is placed a curious "lantern" of stone, which, from its character, may very probably be the work of the Gloucester school of masons of the fifteenth century. The proper position and use of this curious relic is only guessed at. The chambers below are said to have served the purpose of a prison at one time, the prisoners' food being placed in the lantern, and taken by the unfortunate inmates through the hatch cut in the wall behind. The passage is continued from this corner to the outer wall of the building where it abruptly terminates in a screen of modern construction. If we go farther round this block into the garden we shall come to another cottage, and in the front room we may see a well-carved fireplace ornamented with five quatrefoils. It is composed of the oolite stone used for all the finer and more important work in the Monastery, but has been lately painted, with unfortunate result. Beyond a partition is a beautifully carved fragment which would seem to have formed part of an elaborate shrine or chantry, but now serves as the lintel of the scullery window. Overlooking the garden in which we stand as we leave the door is the gable end of a plain rectangular building, now cottages, but formerly the Abbot's stables.
One more relic completes the list of the remains of the "late Abbey," as Leland pathetically alludes to that important establishment. Walking across the Green we see before us an old stone porch embattled above, and behind it a plain building of two storeys. This was the Grammar School of Abbot Lichfield, and his inscription over the door may still be deciphered, "ORATE PRO ANIMA CLEMENTIS ABBAT." The schoolhouse is of timber, and has been little altered, except that the front is spoiled by the substitution of brick for wood and plaster; the ornamental battlement on the porch is also of recent date.