Lord Rich thought favourably of the proposal; but that fears were entertained elsewhere would seem probable from a second letter, in which Grindal writes as follows:
For S. Bartholomewes—I meane not to pulle it downe, but to change it for a Churche more conveniente ... unlesse some strange opinion shulde arise that prayer were more acceptable under leade than under sclate.
The long period of neglect and desecration which follows is rather to be inferred from the condition of the buildings in the early part of the nineteenth century than from any actual records respecting them. What that condition was in 1809 is described in two letters which appeared in "The Gentleman's Magazine" for March and April in that year. They were written in a spirit of indignation at the behaviour of "a powerful junto" which had been formed in the parish to sweep the whole structure away, church included, on the pretext that part of the choir was in danger of tumbling down. It had, however, been saved by the exertions and judicious repairs of Mr. Hardwick, to whom the writer pays a just compliment for his timely action against the particular committee. He then goes on with a lamentable picture of what met his eyes on a "recent survey" of the Priory, which he had previously examined in 1791, when it was pretty much in the same state.[14] The Lady Chapel was still in existence, but wholly filled up with modern tenements; the north transept was more or less destroyed, and the arch bricked up to reduce that side of the church to a level, while the south transept—a ruin without a roof—was walled off from the church, and used as a burial-ground. The eastern side of the cloister was all that remained of the quadrangle, and was turned to account as a "comfortable eight-stall stable" for horses. The site of the north cloister was occupied by a blacksmith's forge, a public house, and certain private offices; the south and west being covered with store-rooms and coach-houses. Of the Chapter House the remaining walls were "no higher than a dado," and under them the timber was stored after treatment in the sawpit of the enclosure. The dormitory to the south of the Chapter House had been demolished, and the crypt beneath it bricked off into divisions for stores, with a common thoroughfare open between them. It may here be mentioned that a close examination of the ground has shown that there was formerly the usual "slype," or open pathway, running from the cloister-garth, between the south transept and the Chapter House, to the canons' cemetery on the southern side of the Lady Chapel.
The building against the south wall of the choir (probably the sacristy, though called a chapel) is described as a magnificent structure, of about the time of Edward III, with windows on the eastern and southern sides, and a grand arch (then latticed up) which formerly connected it with the south transept. It was being used as a store-room for hops. The chapel to the east of this was destroyed in its upper part, and the windows had lost their arched heads, though the columns and architraves to the jambs remained, showing some very delicate and beautiful work, which was also remarkably fine in the dado mouldings. The ceiling of the church—the wreck of the Tudor open-worked timber roof—had been "pared down to a common pediment covering," supported on the heads of cherubim as corbels. The Doric altar-piece is contemptuously referred to as "a painted theatrical scene of architecture."[15]
While the subordinate buildings were dropping into ruin, the church, besides having suffered from fire and neglect, had been disfigured by a long series of repairs and embellishments, the character of which may be inferred from the glaring instances pointed out in the letters just quoted. The other alterations made in the interior may be briefly summarized as follows: The level of the floor was raised by a thick deposit of earth; the walls were enveloped in whitewash, to the concealment of the ancient mural paintings and certain delicate sculptured ornament; and high pews were erected, which reached almost to the capitals of the piers. The openings of the triforium were bricked up—in some cases entirely obliterated—and at the east end, above the altar-piece just mentioned, there rose a brick wall, pierced with two ugly round-headed windows, filled with square panes of glass, and destitute of mullions and tracery. The space between the termination thus formed and the original apse went by the name of "Purgatory," as a receptacle for human bones, some thousands of which were found to have accumulated when it was cleared out in 1836.[16]
The secularization of this extreme eastern part of the church is traced to the first purchaser from the Government, who held that the sanctuary was bounded by the straight wall which there ran across it. A more modern consequence than that just mentioned was the intrusion into the triforium of a Nonconformist school, which was held there during the eighteenth century, in connection with a chapel belonging to the particular denomination immediately outside, having a convenient access to the triforium from its own galleries. Another encroachment was a fringe manufactory, which extended westwards along the triforium so as to include Prior Bolton's window, and held its ground for some time after the main arcading of the apse had been restored. Visitors to the church before the restoration was complete will remember a substantial iron bar which was carried across the curve, above the altar, to strengthen the walls—an eyesore which could not be removed till the intruding factory was bought out (vide infra).
The real work of restoration was begun in 1863 by the late Rev. John Abbiss, then Rector of the parish, who raised something like £5,000, and spent it in reducing the floor to its original level, removing the pews (which had previously been lowered), repairing the walls and piers, and rebuilding the central part of the apse, which had been pulled down early in the fifteenth century, as already explained.
Outside the church a dry area was formed for the better protection of the fabric against the subsidence known to follow on the ignorance, or indifference, of early builders as to underlying strata. All this was accomplished in three years, when the money was exhausted, and a fresh fund had to be created for the continuation of the restorative work. In raising subscriptions the then patron of the living, the Rev. F. P. Phillips, was well supported by the parishioners, the City Companies, the Charity Commissioners (out of the City Ecclesiastical Funds), and the general public, with the result that a sum of over £28,000 was got together. The chief individual contributor was the patron himself, who purchased the projecting fringe factory for £6,500,[17] and completed the restoration of the apse at his own expense. At the same time the church was provided with a new roof, and the blacksmith's forge, which occupied the site of the north transept, was bought out. On the 30th November, 1886, the restored portions were formally opened, the actual work having started about two years before, under the active interest of the Rev. William Panckridge, who succeeded Mr. Abbiss in the Rectory.