A. The Abbots Kitchin. B. His Lodgings. C. St Iosephs Chappel. D. The Town Church. E. the Abby Church. F. the Tower. G. St Marys Chappel. H. Edgars Chappel. I. the Choir. K. the Cloysters. L. the Hall. M. the Monks Lodgings. N. the Almery.
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The Inside Section of St. Joseph of Arimathea’s Chapel at Glasenbury.
Tho. Tanner D.D. Sacra Tabula.
G. Vder. Gucht. Scul.
Stukeley delin.
In the town are two churches; the upper a handsome fabric, with a fine tower of good design, adorned with figures in niches: at the east end of the church-yard is a curious old tomb inscribed with ancient English letters, but so worn with trampling on, that I could make little out of it, except the name of the interred Alleyn. The George inn is an old stone building, called the Abbot’s inn, where chiefly the pilgrims were lodged that came strolling hither, and idling their time away for sanctity: stone and timber are liberally bestowed on it: a coat of arms of the kings of England, supported by a lion and a bull, over the gate, and many crosses: the bed I lay in was of large timber, with great embossed gilt pannels, and seemed to have been the abbot’s.
When I left this place, I passed through a great gate built across the road under the abbey wall, with a lesser portal by the side of it; which I suppose was some boundary of the abbey-lands, and part of their extravagance; for the abbot’s revenues being inconsumable in their way of life, they prodigally threw it away in building, as one method of perpetuating their name: another they had which was very useful, the making great and high causeways, along this moory country, for facilitating travelling and commerce; the remains of which I saw here and there, and wished they had been in better repair. I passed by the side of Werial hill, where grew the famous hawthorn that blossomed at Christmas; I suppose, an early blooming white-thorn: but that it so strictly observed Christmas day to an hour, nay a minute, as they here assert, I believe no more than the vulgar derivation of the hill, with more of the dregs of monkery. Somerton is an old town, that gives name to the whole county, once the royal seat of the West-Saxon kings: the steeple is octangular: probably it was a Roman town. I saw a camp upon a great copped high hill on the right hand, as I travelled. At Ilchester town end I fell into the Foss road again.
Ischalis.