THE REMAINS OF THE ABBEY
"_... work, that stood inviolate_
_When axe and hammer battered down the state_
. . . . . . . .
_... the tall Belfry of the Abbey Gate_
_Yet stands majestic, pinnacled, elate,_
_And fills the Vale with music far and wide._"
--HERBERT NEW.
The earliest architectural remains are the work of Norman abbots. The
most perfect relic of this period is Abbot Reginald's Gateway, now
leading from the market-place into the churchyard, which consists of
side walls both decorated with round arches and shafts. The building
above has been much "restored." As there are no signs of stone
groining, the superstructure was, in all probability, always of
timber, but the design of the arcades, and certain moulded arch stones
found embedded in the soil below would seem to point to the existence
in former times of two stone arches, one at each end, which would add
much to the strength of the building. This gateway stood in a line of
wall enclosing the monastic precincts and the outer yard in which
stand the parish churches, and stretching to the river eastwards and
westwards. The lower portions of the walls have recently been cleared
of earth and exposed to view. It will be noticed that the soil has
risen by gradual accumulation to a height of several feet above its
original level in the seven hundred and fifty years which have elapsed
since the construction. In monastic times this gateway figured in the
important ceremony attending the installation of a new abbot. Before
entering the precincts of the monastery the destined prelate,
accompanied by his chaplains and personal following, halted in this
corner of the market-place, and after entering one of the adjoining
houses where his shoes were removed he proceeded barefoot into the
churchyard. The whole convent, duly accoutred, were in waiting, and as
soon as the new abbot appeared in the gate they emerged in ordered
procession from the north porch of the great church to meet him. After
various formalities he was solemnly escorted to the church, where
further important ceremonials were performed.
[Illustration: ABBOT REGINALD'S GATEWAY]
To the previous century may be assigned the bases of the substantial
piers which stood at the crossing of the nave and transept, and
supported the tower of the great church. These remains may be seen in
the excavated hollow a few steps from the southern side of bell tower.
The tower of the church was begun by Abbot Walter soon after the
Conquest, and there can be little doubt that these massive foundations
belong to his time. If we follow the line of wall to the south from
this point we come to an arch, bare on this side but elaborately
carved on the other with two rows of figures under canopies. This
archway was in the east walk of the cloisters, and gave entrance to a
vaulted passage connecting the cloisters with the chapter-house.
Though the figures have been considerably mutilated and weather-worn
it will be seen that the carving is of great beauty; the outer figures
are seated while the inner ones stand, and over both are placed
canopies of tabernacle work. We know this as the work of Abbot
Brokehampton, by whom it was erected early in the fourteenth century.
The bare face of the arch was originally hidden by the stone vault
forming the roof of the passage already referred to. The chapter-house
stood out in the field; but much farther, even to the edge of the bank
which slopes down to the monks' fish ponds, did the choir and Lady
chapel extend.
As we retrace our steps we follow the line of the transepts. When we
reach the exposed foundations, let us pause awhile and allow our
imagination full sway. We are standing in the midst of the choir, in
the "dim religious light" of a great mediæval church. Above is the
"high embowed roof" of the central tower; around are the stalls set in
a screen of woodwork intricately carved. All is mellowed by the
"storied windows," which break the light into many coloured rays.
Looking westward, over the blank wall, we should see in vision the
tall rood screen and gallery, and, stretching far beyond, the long
vista of Norman arches and painted roof: and through the screen
glimpses would reach us of the many-coloured west window. Let us turn
round, and in place of sunlit trees and river conjure up the broad
flight of stone steps, the stately sanctuary above, with its glorious
reredos enriched with tabernacle work and carving, gold, silver, and
colours; and the clerestory lights shedding that sweet lustre we have
seen somewhere never to forget!
The bell tower rising in solitary state beside us cannot wait for its
true chronological order. It is one of the few existing examples of
many separate belfries built to hold the bells either for convenience,
or in cases where the towers of the church were of insufficient
strength. As a rule these buildings were much broader and less
graceful in design. This tower has been critcised as "squat," but
considering its use it will be seen that a broad base is essential to
its character. In reality, it is remarkable how much delicacy and
grace have been given by form and proportion, without lessening the
strength or utility. The tower was built by Clement Lichfield in the
last years of his abbacy, and hardly finished at his resignation in
1539. That the builder and his local contemporaries were proud of this
last ornament to the town, is proved by the inscription on Lichfield's
grave, which concludes with the line "in whose time the new tower of
Evesham was built."
The bell tower is indeed Evesham's chief glory, from some standpoints
her principal cause for pride. Unique in its character, it strikes
every beholder with surprise and pleasure in proportion to his
capacity for the appreciation of stately form and exquisite
workmanship. Built by the accomplished and learned Lichfield in the
pure perpendicular style, at a time when Gothic architecture was fast
sinking in its decline, it would seem to be, not only one of the
triumphs of mediæval art, but one of the very last efforts of a dying
tradition; in it we see embodied the lofty thought of one of our
noblest abbots. Though it has not witnessed the beginnings of the
conventual life, the early struggles, nor the palmy days of
monasticism, it forms a connecting link between the dim past and this
present time. It is, as it were, a monument perpetuating the memory of
a great period and a great institution.
If the atmosphere be clear we should ascend the spiral staircase, and
from the summit, no great height indeed, we shall gain a view of the
town with the encircling river, and the vale with the surrounding
hills. The tower still performs its function, and every day the chimes
play a different tune, all familiar airs that never tire, but with
repetition seem rather to gain in association and charm.
If we take the path from the tower which brings us to the left side of
Saint Lawrence's church, we skirt an old wall which bounded the great
courtyard of the Abbey, and joined the great church to the gate-house.
We soon come to a door of fifteenth century workmanship, and close by
is a curious Gothic chimney of about the same date. On the inner side
was the porter's lodge, and from here to the adjacent church of Saint
Lawrence ran a covered way, probably a vaulted passage like a cloister
walk, through which the officiating priest would enter. If we proceed
we soon find ourselves at the bottom of Vine Street, and looking
across Merstow Green; and over the house-tops, bounding the horizon we
see Clark's Hill, a steep bank on the opposite side of the river,
traditionally said to have been planted by the monks as a vineyard. On
our left is a large plastered building enclosed within substantial
iron railings. This was once the great gatehouse of the Monastery, and
was built in the fourteenth century by Abbot Chiriton, who obtained a
special licence from King Edward the Third to fortify the abbey
precincts. The windows and the wing projecting outwards are
comparatively modern, but a Gothic window may be seen in the wall
facing the churchyard, and the original arches can be traced on the
garden front. Close by, and possibly adjoining, was the Barton Gate
which led to the stables and outhouses. The long low building of
stone and timber, washed over in the old manner with lime, which rises
from the grass on our left was once the Almonry of the Abbey. It is
now occupied as offices and separate dwellings. The front is extremely
picturesque with its buttresses, perpendicular window and quaint
openings. The western portion, built mainly of timber, with here and
there the remains of carving, and a diaper imprinted on the plaster,
contains the great fireplace, clearly indicated on this side by the
mass of solid stonework. Turning the corner into Little Abbey Lane we
come to the yard at the back, and we may be allowed to view the
interior of the Almoner's kitchen, which still retains some of its
primitive character. From this apartment a passage runs through the
entire length of the building, and this was no doubt originally
continued, forming a communication with the main buildings of the
Monastery. In the corner of the courtyard, beneath a brick gable which
is mere modern patchwork, the passage takes an abrupt turn, and in the
angle is placed a curious "lantern" of stone, which, from its
character, may very probably be the work of the Gloucester school of
masons of the fifteenth century. The proper position and use of this
curious relic is only guessed at. The chambers below are said to have
served the purpose of a prison at one time, the prisoners' food being
placed in the lantern, and taken by the unfortunate inmates through
the hatch cut in the wall behind. The passage is continued from this
corner to the outer wall of the building where it abruptly terminates
in a screen of modern construction. If we go farther round this block
into the garden we shall come to another cottage, and in the front
room we may see a well-carved fireplace ornamented with five
quatrefoils. It is composed of the oolite stone used for all the finer
and more important work in the Monastery, but has been lately painted,
with unfortunate result. Beyond a partition is a beautifully carved
fragment which would seem to have formed part of an elaborate shrine
or chantry, but now serves as the lintel of the scullery window.
Overlooking the garden in which we stand as we leave the door is the
gable end of a plain rectangular building, now cottages, but formerly
the Abbot's stables.
One more relic completes the list of the remains of the "late Abbey,"
as Leland pathetically alludes to that important establishment.
Walking across the Green we see before us an old stone porch embattled
above, and behind it a plain building of two storeys. This was the
Grammar School of Abbot Lichfield, and his inscription over the door
may still be deciphered, "ORATE PRO ANIMA CLEMENTIS ABBAT." The
schoolhouse is of timber, and has been little altered, except that the
front is spoiled by the substitution of brick for wood and plaster;
the ornamental battlement on the porch is also of recent date.
For more than a hundred years after the destruction of the noble pile
the site was used as a stone quarry, and fragments may be found in
almost all the older houses in the town, and in many farm buildings in
the neighbourhood. There is hardly an old garden near that has not
some carved stones of curious shape recognisable by the antiquary as
having once formed part of a shaft, a window, or an archway of the
proud Abbey. Of these scattered fragments the most important is the
lectern of alabaster, Romanesque in style, now, after long misuse and
neglect serving its original purpose in the church of Saint Egwin at
Norton, a village lying nearly three miles to the north of the town. A
description of this relic will be found in the last section of this
work.
The local tradition of the splendour of the Monastery is no doubt
handed down to us by Thomas Habington, the antiquary, who visited the
town in 1640. "There was not to be found," he writes, with pardonable
exaggeration, "out of Oxford or Cambridge, so great an assemblage of
religious buildings in the kingdom"!