greatly mutilated. Above the arch are shields displaying the arms of Offa, three crowns, and the abbey arms, azure, a saltire or. The inside of the porch has been elegantly ornamented with pointed and trefoil arches, sustained on clustered pillars of Purbeck marble, some of which have capitals of foliage, and others of the upper parts of angels, but much defaced. In the centre are three pillars clustered, with a pointed arched doorway on each side, having three pointed arches above. The doors are of oak, finely carved into trefoils, quatrefoils, roses, finials, and other ornamental forms."
Those who would desire to find a more technical and elaborate account of the architecture of St. Alban's Abbey, should study the interesting volume of Messrs. Buckler on that subject. They show good reasons for believing that the west end of the nave was adorned with two towers, and that the central tower, which now stands, was surmounted by a lofty octagonal lantern.
One cannot but own that the vast dimensions of the fabric in point of length,[1] combined with the simplicity of its plan, render St. Alban's Abbey one of the most striking edifices in the kingdom, even to an eye which is utterly inexperienced in the details of Gothic architecture. But for the student of ecclesiastical art it has an additional charm in the fact that in it is to be found exemplified every era and style of architecture, from the earliest Norman down to the decadence which marks the age of the Tudors. In this respect it has been a complete school of art for the numerous restorations of pointed architecture which the spirit of the age has effected. Nor is it only in modern days that it has served this purpose, it is from the stone screens which bound the choir and ante-choir within, that William of Wykeham took many of the details of his plans for the chapels of New College and Magdalen College at Oxford. Perhaps the most beautiful portion of the entire fabric is to be found in the tall and admirably proportioned windows of the Lady Chapel and the adjoining buildings at the cast end, where the graceful and delicate outline receives an additional charm from the exquisite colours of the brick and stone which are employed, and which present a singular contrast to the bare and massive contour of the nave and the transepts as a whole.
But, indeed, it is no wonder that such great cost and labour were spent upon the fabric, when we remember that the Abbot of St. Alban's was one of the nine-and-twenty dignitaries of that degree who sat in the House of Lords as Peers of Parliament before the dissolution of religious houses, and that, as A. Butler assures us, "the Abbot of St. Alban's, however newly appointed he might be, always took in Parliament the first place among the mitred abbots, while the others sat according to the seniority of their summons, in virtue of a precedence granted to the house in a.d. 1154 by Pope Adrian IV.," who, as Nicholas Brakespear, began his religious life by becoming a brother in this monastery.
From the days of Offa to those of the Reformation, forty abbots here held sway, of whom the earliest was Willegod; the thirty-eighth (and, to all intents and purposes, the last), was Wolsey. The great cardinal and minister of state, however, never honoured his abbey by a visit, being content with receiving the income accruing therefrom; after his death, Henry VIII., who was breaking up all the religious houses in the kingdom, put in as abbots two creatures of his own—Robert Cotton, who lived to enjoy his honours only eight years—and Richard Boreman, who surrendered the abbey to the king, by whom it was destroyed. But the mayor and burgesses of the town retained so strong an affection for the fine old building, that they raised a sum of 400l., which they made over to Henry, in consideration of the abbey church being left standing, and it then became the parish church of St. Alban's.
Entering the venerable building by the great western porch, we are struck, as at Winchester, with the great length of the interior; which, though once adorned with rich decorations, is now what one might expect, a long bare empty nave.
A stone in the pavement is pointed out as the place where once stood the shrine of St. Alban, and where miracles are said to have been performed through his influence. The most singular object is a flight of stone steps leading down to a vault, the door of which is kept open, though an iron gate prevents the curious from entering; through the gate we perceive what are said to be the bones of the good Duke Humphrey of Gloucester, whose dinner parties for centuries have passed into a proverb. The magnificent sepulchre to his memory was erected in the time of Abbot Whethamsted, whom Mr. Gough has styled, in allusion to his architectural skill, "the Wykeham of his time." The sepulchre was richly painted and covered with niches, which were filled with exquisitely carved statues, some of which, supposed to represent the ancient kings of- ↑ Till lately it has been supposed to be 600 feet long, and 3 feet longer than Winchester Cathedral: but careful measurement has shown it to be only 548 feet from east to west.
