The New World honours him whose lofty plea,
For England’s freedom, made her own more sure;
Whose song, immortal as its theme, shall be
Their common freehold while both worlds endure.
The last line seeming rather prosaic, the author good-naturedly offered to substitute “heirloom” for “freehold.” But “freehold” stands. Another window celebrates Sir Erskine May, whose severe, thoughtful face is portrayed in various Scriptural attitudes—e.g., as the Faithful Steward, with the legend “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”
Another interesting memorial was set up on December 18th, 1888, thus further enriching the associations of the church. This was in honour of the gallant Admiral Blake, and takes the shape of a three-light window in the north aisle. The upper portions are of an allegorical kind; the lower depicts incidents from Blake’s life, such as the indignity of the ejection of his body from the Abbey in 1661, after the Restoration. Mr. Lewis Morris, another of the poets of our time, has furnished spirited verses, and sings:—
Strong sailor, sleeping sound as sleep the just,
Rest here: our Abbey keeps no worthier dust.
This fashion is interesting, and original too. For, as we pass from window to window, we can review our history, and the striking lines attached to each will linger in the memory. Thus we have five poets contributing to the glories of these windows.
The old tablets with which the walls are incrusted have an interest from the originality of the style and the richness of material. Here we find the rather grim likeness of the worthy Palmer, and of Emery Hill, whose almshouses and schools are still to be seen in Westminster. Many Court ladies find rest in the church: such as Lady Dorothy Stafford, “who served Queen Elizabeth forty years, lying in the bed-chamber;” or Lady Blanche Parry, “chief gentlewoman of Queen Elizabeth’s Privy Chamber, and keeper of her Majesty’s jewels, whom she faithfully served from her Highness’s birth;” or Anne Ellis, “who was born in Denmark, and was Bedchamber Woman to Queen Anne.” We come on a record “To the memory of the right virtuous and beautiful gentlewoman, Mistress Margaret Ratcliffe, one of the maids of honour to Queen Elizabeth, and who died at Richmond.” Many of the men, too, have served their King, like Cornelius Vandam, “souldier with King Henry at Turney, Yeoman of the Guard, and Usher to Prince Henry, King Edward, Queen Mary, and Queen Elizabeth;” or Peter Newton, “who served King James and King Charles, and was Usher of the Black Rod.”
Some of the inscriptions are quaint and touching, like that which celebrates “the late deceased Virgin Mistress Elizabeth Hereicke”:—
Sweet Virgin, that I do not set
Thy grave verse up in mournful jet
Or dappled marble, let thy shade
Not wrathful seeme, or fright the Maid
Who hither, at the weeping Howres,
Shall come to strew thy Earth with Flowres.
No: know, blest Soule, when there’s not one
Reminder left of Brasse or Stone
Thy living Epitaph shall be,
Though lost in them, yet found in me.
Deare, in thy bed of Roses then,
Till this world shall dissolve, as Men
Sleepe, while we hide thee from the light,
Drawing thy curtains round—Good night.
With much simplicity another lady, Dame Billing, frankly tells us of the happiness she enjoyed with her three husbands, whom she sets down in their order, “garnishing the tablet with their armes.” Another widow records on an old battered “brass” the merits of one Cole, her latest partner, at great length; whereof an extract:—
In Parliament, a Burgesse Cole was placed
In Westminster the like, for many years;
But now, with Saints above, his soul is graced,
And lives a Burgess with Heaven’s Royal Peers.