In complete repair, A.D. 1500;
Dissolved by order of Henry VIII. A.D. 1538; [118b]
Wholly decayed, as by Camden, 1586. [119]
Of the magnificence of this ancient Monastery no adequate description can now be given, and scarcely an idea formed of what it has been. The body and nave of the Church are disfigured, and nearly choked up with masses of ruins, and large and luxuriant forest trees, among which the ash and sycamore are most predominant. The length of the Church is about one hundred and eighty feet; the width I can only guess at, as the north side is wholly gone. An author before me says the nave was thirty-one feet broad, and the side aisle thirteen feet.
In the north transept are the remains of a chapel, said by some to have contained the tomb of the founder. In a wall in the cloister stands a double benetoir, or vessel for holy water. The cloister is small and gloomy, whose
“Storied windows, richly dight,
Have shed a dim religions light.”
The solemnity of the place, and the stillness that reigns, aided by the subdued light of the moon, and by a vivid fancy, may conjure up strange ideas, and
“Still may imagination’s ardent eye
In the tall grove the sage’s form espy;
See him intent with sacred zeal to plan
Some moral lesson for ungrateful man.”
The part of the Abbey now remaining is inhabited by a farmer, who will show the premises on proper application. There, is a Saxon or semicircular arched gateway in the farm-yard, adjoining a very curious gothic window, well worthy attention. The dormitory or sleeping cells were formerly entered by stone stairs from the outside, which have been removed within the last two years. The floor of the dormitory is supported by low massive pillars; and the arches which spring from their capitals form vaulted rooms, in which the family reside. There are many beautiful features in this interesting ruin, to amply repay the attention of the curious, and the research of the antiquarian. The front seems to have been extensive, and before it gurgles up a very pure spring of water. The Abbot’s apartments were contiguous to the church, and there opened from one of them a small space, where he might stand, and hear the holy services performed below.
The venerable ruin is lessened by every succeeding tenant, and some of the recently erected buildings exhibit stones with mutilated devices and inscriptions worked up in the walls. In one of the farmer’s bedchambers a stone forms part of a chimney-piece, which is carved with running foliage, and contains this imperfect inscription:—