“One never enters the Abbey Church without a thrill of admiration for the daring genius who raised those lofty vaults. That they were the first of their kind in England is almost certain, but the name of their designer does not seem to have been preserved. It is more likely that he was an Englishman who had studied in France, than that he was a Frenchman. Certain it is that though the plan, if not all the design, is purely French, the arrangement of the chapels being in fact peculiar to Westminster amongst English churches, the workmanship is very superior to that in any contemporary building on the Continent.”—(W. J. L.)
The Nave is the loftiest in England. It is two feet higher than that of York Minster.
“The view of the interior is very impressive. Standing at the west end of the nave we cannot fail to admire the magnificent beauty of this noble shrine. This nave of twelve bays, with its clustered columns, its beautiful triforium, and its lofty and firmly proportioned roof soaring to the height of 101 feet, is very striking. A close inspection will show the difference between the piers of the portion finished by Henry III. and the newer work of the Fourteenth Century. The tracery of the triforium openings is very fine. The choir-screen which crosses the nave at the eighth pier, is modern, and also the pulpit. The west window is Perpendicular, and has some Georgian glass containing figures of the Patriarchs. Much architectural beauty has been sacrificed for the sake of ponderous monuments, but many of these have much interest and for many visitors will prove the most attractive features of the Abbey.”—(P. H. D.)
The general effect of the interior has changed little since Washington Irving wrote his sympathetic essay on England’s Walhalla:
“I pursued my walk to an arched door opening to the interior of the Abbey. On entering here the magnitude of the building breaks fully upon the mind, contrasted with the vaults of the cloisters. The eye gazes with wonder at clustered columns of gigantic dimensions with arches springing from them to such an amazing height; and man wandering about their bases shrunk into insignificance in comparison with his own handiwork. The spaciousness and gloom of this vast edifice produce a profound and mysterious awe. We step cautiously and softly about as if fearful of disturbing the hallowed silence of the tomb; while every footfall whispers along the walls, and chatters among the sepulchres, making us more sensible of the quiet we have interrupted.
“It seems as if the awful nature of the place presses down upon the soul, and hushes the beholder into noiseless reverence. We feel that we are surrounded by the congregated bones of the great men of past times who have filled history with their deeds and the earth with their renown.
“I passed some time in Poets’ Corner, which occupies an end of one of the transepts, or cross aisles of the Abbey. The monuments are generally simple; for the lives of literary men afford no striking themes for the sculptor. Shakespeare and Addison have statues erected to their memories, but the greater part have busts, medallions and sometimes mere inscriptions.
“From Poets’ Corner I continued my stroll towards that part of the Abbey which contains the sepulchres of the kings. I wandered among what once were chapels, but which are now occupied by the tombs and monuments of the great. At every turn I met with some illustrious name, or the cognizance of some powerful house renowned in history. As the eye darts into these dusky chambers of death, it catches glimpses of quaint effigies: some kneeling in niches, as if in devotion; others stretched upon the tombs, with hands piously pressed together; warriors in armour, as if reposing after battle; prelates, with crosiers and mitres; and nobles in robes and coronets, lying as it were in state. In glancing over this scene, so strangely populous, yet where every form is so still and silent, it seems almost as if we were treading a mansion of that fabled city, where every being had been suddenly transmuted into stone.”
The West Window dates from the reign of George II., whose arms are in the centre. It contains twenty-four large and fourteen small compartments depicting Moses, Aaron and the patriarchs.
The North-west Tower, also called Belfry Tower, has been called the “Whigs’ Corner,” on account of the monuments there. The glass in the window is old. The south-west, or Baptistery Tower, used to contain the font (now in Henry VII.’s Chapel). Here are also many monuments and busts. The stained glass window, in memory of George Herbert and William Cowper, was the gift of Mr. G. W. Childs, of Philadelphia.