A
s we walk round the building once more, I shall not attempt even to name the greater number of the Monuments, but confine myself to telling you something about the more remarkable ones. The earliest monuments were really the tombs of persons buried here; many of the modern ones simply commemorate illustrious men and women buried elsewhere.
We will first make the round of the chapels, and begin with that of St. Benedict, where once an indulgence of two years and forty days could be obtained by hearing mass at the altar. But the altar has gone, and in its place rises the stately tomb of Frances Howard, Countess of Hertford, whose effigy lies where once stood the candlesticks and sacred host. Close by is the tomb of Archbishop Langham, who was buried here in 1376, with his head towards the altar, little dreaming that that altar would ever be displaced to make room for the tomb of a heretic lady.
Through an ancient oaken screen we enter the adjacent Chapel of St. Edmund. Here is the once beautiful tomb of William de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, and half-brother to Henry III. Some of the monuments in this chapel are of great interest as examples of ancient art, but there is not much to say about their occupants. Frances Hokes, who died in 1622, is represented in Greek costume, and Horace Walpole and others have highly praised this statue. Close by lies Lady Knollys, who attended Anna Boleyn on the scaffold. In the monument of Elizabeth Russell we have the earliest of the sitting figures, which have been so strongly condemned by many who maintain that a recumbent or bowed figure is the only proper one for a tomb. Her marble finger points to a death's-head at her feet, and hence arose the story that she died from a prick of a needle, and some chose to add that it was a judgment upon her for working on Sunday. But we must leave the men and women "of high degree" who throng this chapel, and the tiny alabaster babies of Edward III. in their little cradle, and pass on to the Chapel of St. Nicholas. This chapel is rich in monuments of the Elizabethan era, and was once bright with gold and colouring.
Of the royal tombs in the Chapel of Henry VII. I have already spoken, but there are some others of great interest. One bay, or chapel, is nearly filled by the monument of James I.'s favourite "Steenie"—George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, who was assassinated by Felton at Portsmouth, in 1628. In another bay are two beautiful modern monuments, harmonising well with their surroundings: the one of the Duke of Montpensier, brother of Louis Philippe, the other of the late Dean Stanley. The Duke of Richmond and his beautiful Duchess, "La Belle Stuart," occupy a bay with their colossal canopied tomb. Of the other tombs in the Chapel of Henry VII., we should specially mention that of General Monk in the south aisle. He had a splendid funeral. For the three weeks that he lay in state forty gentlemen of good family stood as mutes with their backs against the wall, twenty each day alternately.
In the Chapel of St. Paul is the once gilded tomb of Lord Bourchier, the standard-bearer of Henry V. at the battle of Agincourt. The altar has given place to the tomb of Frances Sydney, the wife of Ratcliff, Earl of Sussex, who figures in Scott's story of "Kenilworth." Near at hand is the tomb of Sir Thomas Bromley, the Lord Chancellor, who presided at the trial of Mary, Queen of Scots. But the chief feature of this chapel is the colossal marble effigy of James Watt, the celebrated improver of the steam-engine—a splendid monument, from the chisel of Sir F. Chantrey.
The adjoining chapel, dedicated to St. John the Baptist, contains the tomb of one of Cromwell's officers, Colonel Edward Popham. Where the altar once stood stands the loftiest monument in the Abbey—the tomb of Queen Elizabeth's Chamberlain, Lord Hundsdon. The old statesman had waited long for an earldom, which the queen had granted and revoked three times over. She came at last to see him, and lay the patent and the robes of a peer on his bed. "Madam," said the old man, "seeing you counted me not worthy of this honour whilst I was living, I count myself unworthy of it now that I am dying."
Visitors are not admitted into the beautifully sculptured, but dark, little chapel of Abbot Islip. Just beyond it we enter what is now called the eastern aisle of the south transept, formerly the separate chapels. Here we find the celebrated tomb of Sir Francis Vere. Above the warrior's effigy, supported by four kneeling knights, is a plain canopy, upon which lies his helm and breastplate. Looking round, we see many interesting memorials: Admiral Kempenfelt, who went down in the Royal George; Sir John Franklin, who perished among Polar icebergs: Telford, the engineer; Sir Humphry Davy, the philosopher: all these and many others are commemorated in this aisle.
Emerging now into the north transept, we find ourselves amongst what has been termed "the dead Parliament of Britain." Famous statesmen look down upon us from their marble pedestals, and beneath the central pavement are the graves of Chatham, Pitt, Fox, Castlereagh, Canning, Wilberforce, Grattan, and Palmerston. The magnificent monument to the great Earl of Chatham cost £6,000. Close beside it stands the huge pile of sculpture by Nollekens, in memory of the three captains who fell in Rodney's famous victory over the French in April, 1782. Nearly opposite to Chatham's monument is Chantrey's fine statue of Canning. On each side the transept, and in the contiguous western aisle, the eye rests upon sculptured marble bearing honoured names—Warren Hastings, Richard Cobden, Palmerston, Beaconsfield, and others whose lives are part of our country's history. As we stand here we may well remember the words of Macaulay: "In no other cemetery do so many great citizens lie within so narrow a space. High over these venerable graves towers the stately monument of Chatham, and from above, his effigy, graven by a cunning hand, seems still, with eagle face and outstretched arm, to bid England to be of good cheer, and to hurl defiance at her foes."
From the north transept we pass to the nave along the north aisle of the choir. Here we enter what has been termed a "Musicians' Corner;" amongst a few other organists and composers lies Henry Purcell, whose epitaph (written by Dryden) declares that he has gone to "that blessed place where only his harmonies can be excelled." The sitting figure of the great philanthropist, William Wilberforce, a little farther on, is not generally admired.
Passing through the gate into the nave, we see against the choir screen on our left the monument of Sir Isaac Newton, with a tedious list of his discoveries. Proceeding along the north aisle we see to the left the new pulpit for the Sunday evening services, and near it is a brass of life-size on a slab covering the grave of the eminent engineer, Robert Stephenson. Another slab close by shows the Victoria Tower and a ground-plan of the Houses of Parliament. This is the grave of the great architect, Sir Charles Barry. The famous African explorer, David Livingstone, lies in the centre of the nave. Turning again to the north wall we see about the centre of the numerous monuments one to the Right Hon. Spencer Perceval, First Lord of the Treasury, who was shot in the House of Commons by Bellingham, in the afternoon of May 11th, 1812. In this aisle I was going to say lies, but more correctly stands the body of Ben Jonson, who is buried in an upright position.