THE ABBEY OF TEWKESBURY,

<g>Gloucestershire.</g>

Ampla foro, et partis spoliis præclara, THEOCI

Curia, Sabrinæ quà se committit Avona,

Fulget; nobilium sacrisque recondit in antris

Multorum Cineres, quondam inclyta corpora bello.--LELAND.

<g>FOUNDATION.</g>--In his desire to do more especial honour to Tewkesbury,

William of Malmesbury has fancifully traced its etymon to the Greek word

_Theotocos_[152]--the Mother of God--because the monastery which was

built here was dedicated to the Virgin Mother. It is certain, however,

that the town occupied the ground long before the monastery was erected.

The popular tradition is, that a religious recluse, named Theocus, had

a Christian cell or chapel in this place about the end of the seventh

century--“ubi quidam heremita manebat nomine Theokus, unde

Theokusburia”--and that from him the “Curia Theoci” was in process of

time modified into Tewkesbury. In Weever’s Funeral Monuments, however,

there is an ancient Saxon inscription, discovered in the church of

Leominster at the close of the sixteenth century, which states that, in

the Saxon era, Tewkesbury was called [Illustration], that is,

Theotisbyrg, from which it would appear that Tewkesbury was the town,

castle, or borough of Theot. Others, by conjectures equally vague or

plausible, have laboured to prove that the name is derived from Dodo or

Thodo, one of the first lords of the manor, and founder of the

monastery, adducing as corroborative evidence that the Ð and _Th_ are

frequently substituted for each other in the Saxon language; wherefore,

say they, from Thodo comes the Latin derivative Theodocus, and from

that, Teodechesberie, as in Domesday Book. But further, it has been

conjectured that Theocus and Dodo, or Thodo, were one and the same

person; and those who are curious in the investigation of such questions

will find the subject elaborately discussed in all the principal

histories of the county[153] and abbey.

The foundation of this Abbey takes precedence of most others in the

kingdom, and dates from the first fifteen years of the eighth century.

In the reigns of Ethelred, Kenred, and Ethelbald, kings of Mercia, two

brothers, with the euphonious names of Odo and Dodo, flourished in this

beautiful district, and adorned their high station by the practice of

many Christian virtues and pious examples. Of their zeal for the honour

of God they were resolved to leave some permanent evidence to posterity,

and with this view selected a suitable spot on their manor of

Tewkesbury, and there erected[154] the monastery which in after times

became famous throughout the land. They endowed the abbey with much

landed property--Stanwey cum membris, sic dicta, Tadington Prestecote et

Didcot[155]--which continued to form part of the abbey revenues till the

Dissolution. The institution gradually extended its authority temporal

and spiritual, and acquired a reputation for so much sanctity, that to

obtain a grave in its sacred enclosure became an object of devout

competition among the pious, and brought no little treasure to the

prior’s exchequer.

The first personage of royal dignity who was buried in the Abbey was

Brictric, king of the West Saxons, and son-in-law to King Offa. The next

was Hugh, a Mercian noble, and patron of the abbey, who had procured

for it the distinction of a royal mausoleum in St. Faith’s Chapel; to

which his own remains were afterwards consigned, with all the monks

attending in solemn procession, and chanting his requiem.

[Illustration]

Towards the middle of the tenth century, Haylward Snew, descended from

King Edward the Elder, founded a monastery on his own manor at

Cranburne,[156] in Dorsetshire, and to this he subjected the priory of

Tewkesbury, of which he was patron. Historians give him the credit of

having possessed, in an eminent degree, the virtues of personal valour

and earnest piety; and of the latter, no better proofs could be adduced

than the fact of his having bestowed much of his substance upon the

church. Algar, his eldest son and successor, did not long enjoy his

inheritance; and to him succeeded his younger brother, Brictric, of whom

the annexed adventure is recorded.[157]

[Illustration]

When the Battle of Hastings had secured a vacant throne to William the

<g>Conqueror</g>,[158] Brictric was among those patriotic chiefs who survived

that decisive field, and afterwards retired to the banks of the Severn,

to concert measures for the recovery of the Saxon throne, or to bury his

vain regrets in the bosom of his faithful friends and retainers. By one

of those strange accidents, however, which frustrate all preconcerted

schemes, Brictric’s hopes of freedom were completely blasted. Great as

the grief of Maud had been at his abruptly quitting her father’s court

in Flanders, as stated in the preceding note, it was not of long

duration; for the Duke of Normandy having shortly after solicited her

hand, and as such a union offered her no distant prospect of avenging

herself, she at once assented. The marriage was solemnized. She was

carried in triumph to Normandy; and now, when the subjugation of England

had been effected, she did not lose the opportunity thereby afforded of

resenting the slight which the impolitic Brictric had offered to her

beauty. He was accordingly denounced as an enemy to the new dynasty; and

the strongest argument produced against him being that he was a brave

man, with a broad tract of country which he called his own, the evidence

in proof of his disaffection to the Conqueror was conclusive. Maud, the

queen, too, was actively employed in expediting the measures instituted

against him--

Could she forgive him!--no! it was her duty

To crush a wretch that could resist such beauty.

One night, therefore, while returning from vespers, Brictric was seized

at the door of his own manor of Hanley, and sent under a Norman guard to

Winchester, where he pined for some time, oppressed with the double

weight of degradation and imprisonment, and at length died without

issue. His estates, in the meantime, had been given to Queen Maud, who

enjoyed their revenues till her death; after which they were

incorporated with the other royal demesnes of King William.

At the death of the Conqueror, they passed to his son Rufus, who some

time afterwards bestowed Brictric’s Honor of Gloucester upon Robert

Fitz-Hamon, son of Hamon Dentatus, Lord of Corboile in Normandy, as a

reward for many important services performed in defence of his father’s

crown.[159]

This Robert Fitz-Hamon may be considered the second founder of

Tewkesbury Abbey; for, at the instance of Sybil his wife, and

Giraldus[160] Abbot of Cranburne, he rebuilt the church with all its

appendages, and endowed it with many large possessions.[161] In

confirmation of the elegance and liberality with which this was

accomplished--“It cannot be easily reported,” says William of

Malmesbury, on two several occasions, “how highly Robert Fitz-Hamon

exalted this monastery, wherein the beauty of the buildings ravished the

eies, and the charity of the holy brotherhood allured the hearts of all

who repaired thither.”[162] This great and pious undertaking is stated

to have been accomplished as an act of atonement and public satisfaction

for the destruction of the church of Bayeux in Normandy, which King

Henry had burnt in order to liberate him from prison; but which, struck

with remorse at the sacrilege, he afterwards re-edified and restored.

[Illustration]

Having rebuilt the Abbey of Tewkesbury in the manner stated, and finding

that it became more and more an object of attraction among pilgrims and

devotees, Fitz-Hamon changed the Abbey of Cranburne into a priory, and

made it subject from that time forward to the “<g>Blackfriars</g>” of

Tewkesbury[163]--so called from the black habit worn by monks of the

Benedictine order.

But, to preserve the name of the founder in that sanctity to which his

piety and good works had given him so just a title, a prior and two

monks were left to minister in holy offices at Cranburne, so that the

cause of true religion might suffer no detriment by the transfer thus

effected. The situation of the New Abbey, in the centre of a fair and

fertile country, variegated with beautiful landscapes, curtained almost

round by green-wooded hills, and watered by noble rivers, presented all

that could be desired for the advancement of those worldly objects in

which men so spiritually-minded might be supposed to take any interest.

With the completion of the New Abbey prosperity took up her abode under

its immediate wing: habitations multiplied, trade was introduced, the

produce of the adjoining vale increased with the demand, and the

population was rapidly improved. In process of time the abbey was almost

surrounded by a thriving town; while money, freely circulated by

commerce, as well as by the better class of pilgrims, improved the

general appearance of the habitations, and gave an air of cheerfulness

and prosperity to the town and abbey.

Fitz-Hamon, who just lived long enough to witness the first prosperous

days of the abbey, being general of the king’s army in France, repaired

to the siege of Falaise,[164] in Normandy, where he received a wound on

the temple, and died shortly after,[165] His remains were carefully

brought home and deposited with great solemnity in the <g>Chapter-house</g> of

the Abbey, of which the arcade mouldings, vaulted ceiling, pillars,

buttresses, and pointed doorway, retain

[Illustration]

much of their original beauty. It is now the grammar-school of the

place. But in this part of the abbey, hereafter to be described, his

relics were not permitted to rest more than a hundred and thirty-four

years; they were then removed by Robert, the third abbot of that name,

and interred in a plain tomb between two pillars on the right side of

the Chancel, which, with the Chapter-house, will be noticed in a

subsequent page.

[Sidenote: 1397. {]

One hundred and fifty-six years later, Thomas Parker, the eighteenth

abbot, caused the original tomb to be enclosed within a richly-carved

chapel, “satis mirifice tabulatam,” and appointed a mass to be

celebrated every day for the souls of Robert Fitz-Hamon, and Sybil his

wife. By this lady he left issue four daughters, co-heiresses to vast

possessions which, during his active services in places of the highest

trust under government, had greatly accumulated during the last two

reigns. But King Henry, who was averse to seeing the Honor of Gloucester

thus subdivided, adopted such arbitrary measures as effectually

prevented the execution of the testator’s will, and disposed of his

daughters in the following manner:--Hawise he made Abbess of Chichester;

Cecilia he appointed Abbess of Shaftesbury; Amicia he gave in marriage

to his firm adherent, the Earl of Brittany; and to Robert, his natural

son, by the daughter of Rhys ap Tewdwr, Prince of Glamorgan, he united

Mabilia, the eldest. Thus the four daughters of Fitz-Hamon were fairly

settled by “royal authority,” and the estates concentrated upon his son,

Earl Robert, and his descendants. But Mabilia, it appears, expressed

some reluctance when this alliance was first proposed by the king,

alleging that, as his son Robert had then no baronial title nor high

military standing in the country, such a union was neither agreeable to

her taste nor suitable to the rank and possessions bequeathed to her by

so many illustrious ancestors. These objections, as stated by the

monk[166] of Gloucester, were too reasonable and well grounded to be

confuted by the mere art of logic; but the king found a much more speedy

and effectual way of removing them, by creating his son Earl and Consul

of Gloucester, and installing him in the various high offices therewith

connected. Of this earl, as the reader may remember, we have already

spoken in a previous division of this work, when adverting to the

Empress Maud, daughter of King Henry. “He was unquestionably,” says

Lyttleton, “the wisest man of those times; and his virtues were such

that even those times could not corrupt it.” It is to Count Robert of

Gloucester that William of Malmesbury dedicates his work, and speaks of

him in these terms: “Nullum enim magis decet bonarum artium esse

fautorem quam te; cui adhæsit magnanimitas avi, munificentia patrui,

prudentia patris, &c.... Consentaneous ergo sibi mores experiuntur in te

literati, quos citra intellectum ullius acrimoniæ benignus aspicis,

jucundus admittis, munificus dimittis. Nihil plane in te mutavit fortunæ

amplitudo nisi ut pene tantum benefacere posses, quantùm velles.”

But the trait of character which connects Earl Robert more immediately

with our subject is, that every Sunday throughout the year he had the

Abbot of Tewkesbury and twelve of the monks to dine with him, thereby

keeping up a most friendly understanding with the Church, patronizing

learning and all who excelled in the arts, and building various castles

and priories. He founded the priory of St. James in Bristol, and made it

subject to the Abbey of Tewkesbury. But although he patronized the

latter in an eminent degree, he chose the priory for his last

resting-place, and was there buried in the choir, under a tomb of green

jasper.[167]

It was during the life of this earl, that Walleran de Beaumont, a

younger son of the Earl of Leicester, and Count of Meulant, ransacked

the town of Tewkesbury, which, judging by the quantity and value of

plunder carried off, must have been, even at that early period, a town

of no little opulence.[168] In this raid, however, the goods of the

Abbey were respected; for to such men an interdict from the Church was

more terrific than “an army with banners.”

William, son and heir to Earl Robert, and his wife Matilda, confirmed

all the charters which had been granted by his ancestors to the Abbey of

Tewkesbury, and certified his approbation by conferring upon it several

fresh endowments. He died in 1283, when the estates of the earldom were

again vested in three daughters. But the policy which had been adopted

by King Henry was again employed by King Richard, who had bestowed the

youngest of the three heiresses with the earldom and its domains upon

his brother John--a name sufficiently notorious in these pages--but by

whom she was divorced shortly after his accession to the throne. Mabel

or Mabilia, the eldest daughter of Earl William, married the Count

d’Evreux in Normandy, by whom she had a son, Almeric Montfort, who died

about the year 1221, leaving no children by his marriage. But the second

daughter, who had married Richard de Clare,[169] Earl of Hertford, had a

son, Gilbert de Clare, who, on the failure of the previous branches, was

admitted to the honours of Gloucester and Glamorgan, as his legal

inheritance, and was the first who held conjointly the earldoms of

Gloucester and Hertford. He resided at Holme Castle, a feudal residence

which crowned an eminence in the near vicinity of Tewkesbury, and

married Isabel, daughter of William Marshall,

[Illustration: IN ECCLES. NOSTRA DE THEOKES. IN MEDIO PRESBYTERIO. A.D.

MCCXXX.]

Earl of Pembroke. He was a great benefactor of the monastery, and dying

in 1230, was buried in the middle <g>Chancel</g> of the Abbey church--the view

of which is strikingly grand--with all the ceremony due to his rank and

liberality.

His son Richard de Clare succeeding to the family titles and estates,

supported the baronial character of his ancestors, and is recorded to

have held a magnificent Christmas in his castle at Tewkesbury, where

sixty knights were in waiting. In July 1262, “beyng with King Henry in

Fraunce, this Richard Counte de Glocestre dyed of the febre quartane,

and was buryed at Tukesbyri Abbay, where aboute his toumbe be wryten his

noble actes.”[170] Of his body there was a tri-partition: the bowels

were bequeathed to the church of Canterbury; his heart to that at

Tunbridge, and in the Abbey of Tewkesbury, on the right side of his

father’s tomb, his body was deposited with great pomp, graced by the

presence of two bishops, twelve abbots, and a great company of barons,

knights, and other personages, who had repaired from all quarters to

offer their testimony of respect to his memory. His tomb was

subsequently adorned at vast expense by his Countess Matilda, daughter

of the Earl of Lincoln. It was embellished with gold and precious

stones, with an effigy in silver of the sword and golden spurs which he

had lately worn in battle. The inscription was: _Hic. pudor. Hippolyti:

Paridis. gena: Sensus. Ulyssis: Æneæ. pietas: Hectoris. ira. jacet._

This monument has long been removed or demolished.

To Earl Richard[171] succeeded Gilbert the Red--so named, like Rufus,

from the colour of his hair. He married Alice, daughter of Guy Count of

Angoulême, niece to King Henry the Third, but having obtained a divorce

against this lady, took for his second wife Joan d’Acres, daughter of

Edward the First. This earl, according to Leland, dealt hardly with the

Abbey of Tewkesbury, and took away the benefactions of his grandfather,

Earl Gilbert, but which were subsequently restored by his son. He died

at his castle of Monmouth, and was buried in the Abbey of Tewkesbury,

near the tomb of his predecessors, leaving issue one son, Gilbert, the

third earl of that name, who married the lady Matilda, a daughter of

John de Borow, Earl of Ulster, and by this union had one son, who died

in early life, and was buried with his ancestors. The earl himself was

one of those chivalrous nobles who surrounded the throne of Edward the

Second, and fought under his banner. He held a command in the disastrous

expedition into Scotland headed by that unhappy monarch in 1314, and

fell at the battle of Bannockburn, in the twenty-third year of his age,

When the best names that England knew

Claim’d in that death-prayer dismal due.[172]

From the field of battle, the body of the gallant earl was conveyed by

his friends and retainers to the Abbey of Tewkesbury, and there, in the

Chapel of the Blessed Virgin, consigned to kindred dust, in the midst of

prayers and lamentations. His death was more especially felt by the

Abbot and brotherhood, because he had liberally repaired the injury

inflicted upon the monastery by his father, and was the last of that

honoured name who held the title and territories of the De Clares in the

county of Gloucester.

In the former part of this work, we have had more than once occasion to

remark how frequently these old family estates and honours passed away

with the female line: and here was another instance. Leaving no issue by

his marriage, the Gloucester and Glamorgan estates devolved upon his

three sisters, among whom they were divided. Elianora, the eldest,

married Hugh le Despenser--a name of tragical association in English

history; and with her the earldom of Gloucester, the third part of the

estates, and the patronage of the Abbey of Tewkesbury, passed into that

family. Five years later, this unhappy nobleman was apprehended, and put

to the cruel and ignominious death related in a former part of this

work. Some portions of his dismembered body, after their miserable

exposure in different parts of the kingdom, “were buried in Tewkesbury

Abbey, near the lavatory of the high altar.” He left by his wife three

sons, Hugh, Edward, and Gilbert, but with no inheritance save the pains

and penalties entailed upon them by his own forfeiture. The <g>Monument</g> of

the <g>Despenser</g> family, hereafter noticed, is one of the finest objects in

the Abbey church.

[Illustration]

The widow of this nobleman--who had lost both her brother and husband by

violent deaths--sought consolation in a second marriage with William,

Lord le Zouch, by whom she had a son, named Hugh. But she survived her

second husband only two years. He was buried in the Abbey chapel of Our

Lady; and at her own demise, the earldom of Gloucester was conferred on

her sister Margaret’s husband, Hugh de Audley.

Hugh le Despenser, eldest son of the unfortunate Hugh by his wife

Elianora, succeeded him in the inheritance of Hanley Castle, Tewkesbury,

Yairford, and other baronies--which were occasionally disunited from the

honour of Gloucester--and married Elizabeth, the widow of Giles de

Badlesmere, and daughter of William de Montacute, Earl of Salisbury.

This earl, among other good gifts, appropriated the church of

Lantrissant to the abbot and convent in succession, from which they

received fifty marks annually. Dying without issue, he was buried on the

right side of the high altar at Tewkesbury. His widow was afterwards

united in marriage to Gwido de Bryen, knight--said by some writers to

have been of the Thomond family in Ireland, and by others, of the

O’Briens of Castle Walwaine in Pembrokeshire--who was buried along with

a numerous line of illustrious persons near the high altar in St.

Margaret’s--or, as it was subsequently called, O’Brien’s

Chapel[173]--one of the chief sepulchral ornaments of the church. This

posthumous distinction was secured by very substantial benefits

conferred on the church in his lifetime.[174]

The tombs of the illustrious individuals above mentioned are all more or

less visible from the same point, and the coup-d’œil is very impressive.

[Sidenote: 1390.]

This distinguished <g>Patron</g> of the monastery died near the close of the

fourteenth century; when the nephew of his wife--Edward, the second son

of Hugh le Despenser the younger--took possession, in right of his aunt,

of the old family estates of De Clare, among which were Hanley Castle,

Tewkesbury Manor, and Malvern Chase. This nobleman espoused Anne,

daughter of Lord Ferrers, and by this marriage left issue four sons,

Edward, Thomas, Henry, and Gilbert. Edward, who was made Knight of the

Garter and summoned to Parliament in the thirty-first year of Edward the

Third, succeeded to the estates of Earl Hugh, his uncle, and married

Elizabeth, daughter of Lord Bartholomew de Burghurst, the king’s

chamberlain. He commanded the rear of the English army during their

fatiguing and perilous march from Calais to Bordeaux in 1373. He gave a

cup of gold to the monastery, and a precious jewel, says the Chronicle

of Tewkesbury, “wonderfully contrived to hold the sacrament on solemn

days.” His eldest son, Edward, died early at Cardiff Castle, and, with

two other children, a brother and sister, was buried in the family vault

at Tewkesbury. At his death, two years after the expedition above

mentioned, Edward left a son, named Thomas, and three daughters,

Elizabeth, Anne, and Margaret, and was buried in the Abbey church of

Tewkesbury, before the vestry door, near the chancel; where his widow,

Dame le Despenser, to perpetuate his memory, built the Chapel of the

Holy Trinity, hereafter mentioned. This lady survived her husband

thirty-three years, and retained, as “her dowry, the lordships of

Hanley, Fairford, and Tewkesbury,” and died at the commencement of the

fifteenth century, when they fell to her grandson Richard, whose father,

Thomas--the second son of the last-named Edward--had fallen a victim to

<g>the axe</g> at the accession of Henry the Fourth. She was buried near her

husband; and during her life, among various other benefactions, she

bequeathed to the Abbey a suit of scarlet vestments, embroidered with

lions of gold--namely, one coat with three royal robes and white

vestments, and fifteen mantles or copes.[175]

[Illustration]

[Sidenote: 1400.]

[Sidenote: 1439.]

Thomas, her nephew above mentioned, married Constance, daughter of

Edmund Langley, Duke of York, and was created Earl of Gloucester by

Richard the Second, in right of his descent from Elianora, wife of Hugh

Despenser the younger. But having taken an active part in the conspiracy

formed to dethrone Henry the Fourth, he was apprehended at Bristol and

executed, and a sentence of attainder passed upon his titles and

estates. He was afterwards buried in the middle of the <g>Choir</g> in

Tewkesbury church, where a lamp was kept constantly burning before the

host. He left two children, Richard, who died at the age of

eighteen,[176] and Isabel, who, succeeding to the family estates, was

married by the Abbot of Tewkesbury to Richard Parker, son and heir of

William Lord Beauchamp, and afterwards Earl of Worcester. At the siege

of Meuse-en-Bry (Meaux) in France, this nobleman was wounded by a stone

cast from a sling, ‘lapide balistæ,’ and dying in consequence, his body

was sent home and interred near the founder’s chapel, between the

pillars at the bottom of the Choir; where the lady Isabel, his widow,

erected a chapel to his memory and dedicated it to St. Mary Magdalen. It

was covered with pictures of our Saviour, the twelve apostles, and

emblazoned with coats of arms--long since defaced. This lady afterwards,

by a papal dispensation, married her late husband’s cousin, Richard

Beauchamp, fifth earl of Warwick, who was governor of France under King

Henry the Sixth, and died at the city of Rouen, leaving issue by the

said marriage a son and daughter, named Henry and Anne. The lady Isabel

was a munificent benefactress of the Abbey of Tewkesbury, having

settled upon it, for the support of six additional monks, lands worth

three hundred pounds per annum. At her death she also left to it all her

jewels and other personal ornaments, valued at three hundred marks

additional, and procured the church of Farrande in the diocese of

Salisbury, and the church of Penmarshe in that of Llandaff, to be

appropriated to this Abbey. Furthermore, she ordered four masses to be

said in the new chapel which she had founded, for the good of her soul

and the souls of her ancestors and successors; and bequeathed to each of

the priests who should officiate two shillings, to be paid weekly. She

also confirmed all the privileges granted to the monastery by her

ancestors, and was buried near the chapel which she had built, with

great funeral pomp, by the bishop of Hereford, her confessor, and the

lords abbots of Tewkesbury and Winchcomb, as specified in the Abbey

Chronicle.

[Sidenote: 1446.]

[Sidenote: 1471.]

Henry Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, son of Richard by Isabel, heiress of

the Despenser family, was about fourteen years old at his father’s

death. He was crowned King of the Isle of Wight by Henry the Sixth, and

at the age of eighteen was created Duke of Warwick, and declared premier

Earl of England. He had the Castle of Bristol given him, with the

islands of Guernsey and Jersey, the patronage of the church and priory

of St. Mary Magdalen of Goldcliff, with leave to annex it to the church

of Tewkesbury. He confirmed the grants made by his predecessors to the

church of Tewkesbury; gave all the ornaments he wore to purchase

vestments for the monastery; died in the twenty-second year of his age;

and was buried in the middle of the <g>Choir</g>. He left issue by his marriage

with Cecilia, daughter of the Earl of Salisbury, one daughter, Anne, who

died in infancy; whereby Anne, his sister, became sole heiress to his

estates. This lady married Richard Nevil, Earl of Salisbury, who in

right of his wife succeeded to the vast united inheritance of the

Despensers and the Beauchamps--families in which the original

possessions had been accumulating for ages. Nevil, in order that his

rank in the peerage might keep pace with this great accession of

property, was now created Earl of Warwick--familiarly known in the

writings of his day as the stout Earl of Warwick, or the King-maker--for

both King Henry the Sixth and Edward the Fourth held or lost the sceptre

at his dictation. His deeds and prowess are familiar to every reader of

history, and will be more particularly noticed when we arrive at that

portion of the work with which the name is more intimately connected.

His death at the battle of Barnet, and the results of the still more

sanguinary battle of Tewkesbury,[177] placed the crown on the head of

Edward,[178] and introduced a new order of affairs in the state.

After the fall of this renowned earl, Anne his countess, “reduced to

great distress, was forced to abscond. King Richard would have willingly

seized on her estates, had not her two daughters, Isabel and Anne, been

his own sisters-in-law; but he put these ladies in possession of them

all by an equal partition of the vast inheritance between them, which

was confirmed by act of parliament.” Isabel, the elder of these

daughters, married <g>George, Duke of Clarence</g>, brother to Edward the

Fourth; and in her division of the family domains, the ancient manor of

Tewkesbury was included. With this lady, therefore, the subject under

consideration is more particularly connected. But she was destined not

long to survive her renowned father, and died in child-bed in the

twenty-fifth year of her age, at Warwick Castle, from which her remains

were conveyed to the Abbey of Tewkesbury, and made the object of a grand

funeral solemnity, which was prolonged to an unusual duration.

[Illustration]

The annexed particulars may give some idea of the gorgeous ceremonial

practised on that occasion:--Lord John Strensham, Abbot of Tewkesbury,

with several other abbots, in the ecclesiastical habits of their order,

and all the brethren of the convent, received her body in the middle of

the choir. The funeral office was first performed by the Lord Abbot and

his brother abbots there present, with the whole of the convent, in nine

lessons; then by the suffragans of the bishops of Worcester and

Llandaff; and lastly, by the dean and chaplains of the Duke of Clarence.

The vigils were observed by the Duke’s own family till the following

day, which was the vigil of the Epiphany. The suffragan of the bishop of

Lincoln celebrated the first mass of St. Mary in the Chapel of the

Virgin; the second mass of the Trinity was celebrated by the Lord Abbot

at the high altar; the suffragan of the bishop of Worcester said the

third mass of “Eternal Rest,” at which Dr. Weld, of the Grey Friars of

Worcester, preached a sermon in the choir before the prelates and monks

there assembled. Mass being ended, the body was left under the <g>Herse</g>, a

fabric erected for that purpose in the middle of the choir, for the

space of thirty-five days, on every one of which the same solemn

obsequies were repeated. The body of this lady was then buried in a

vault behind the high altar, before the door of the Lady Chapel,

opposite that of St. Edward the Martyr’s.--To the fate of George Duke of

Clarence, who only survived his lady about a twelvemonth, we need not

particularly advert in this place. He was also buried at Tewkesbury,

and left issue two children, Edward and Margaret. This Edward

Plantagenet, entitled Earl of Warwick, and heir of Tewkesbury, was first

seized and imprisoned by his uncle, the tyrant Richard; next, for safer

custody, removed to the Tower, by his cousin, Henry the Seventh, and

beheaded on the charge of a pretended conspiracy. But the only crime

that could be alleged against him was his being heir male of the house

of York; and to this and the king’s invincible jealousy he fell a victim

in the flower of his age. But as we shall have occasion to revert to

this subject hereafter, we omit in the meantime this part of the family

history.

Margaret, the only sister of this unfortunate young noble, met with a

fate equally tragical and unmerited on her own part, and disgraceful to

the tyrant by whom it was inflicted. She was married to Sir Richard Pole

in early life, by whom she had a family, and upon an act of attainder

passed against her for corresponding with her son Cardinal Pole, she was

beheaded in the thirty-third year of the reign of Henry the Eighth.

Anne, youngest daughter of Richard Nevil, Earl of Salisbury and Warwick,

was first married to Edward Prince of Wales, son of King Henry the

Sixth, who, being taken at the battle of Tewkesbury, was there murdered

by Richard Duke of Gloucester, whom she afterwards married, and had

issue Edward Prince of Wales, who died not long before his mother, who

is said to have been poisoned by Richard to facilitate his intended

union with his niece, Elizabeth, daughter of Edward the Fourth, and

afterwards queen of King Henry the Seventh.[179]

[Sidenote: 1609.{]

From this period till the accession of Edward the Sixth, the lordship of

Tewkesbury was annexed to the crown. It was then granted to Sir Thomas

Seymour, who held it till his attainder; when it reverted back again,

and continued vested in the crown till the seventh of the reign of James

the First, when it was granted, by letters patent from that monarch, to

the corporation of Tewkesbury, for the sum of “two thousand four hundred

and fifty-three pounds seven shillings and fourpence halfpenny.”[180]

<g>Such is the descent</g> of the manor of Tewkesbury in connexion with the

Abbey to which it gave origin, and with which it was intimately

associated during the long lapse of six or seven centuries.

During the many ages of prosperity which intervened between the period

of its foundation down to that of its dissolution the Abbey of

Tewkesbury is a name of frequent recurrence in history. Its abbots were

generally men of learning, moderation, and piety; and possessed an

influence in public affairs which extended far beyond the jurisdiction

of their convent. They had possessions in ten different counties, and,

with few exceptions, exerted a mild and benignant sway over the monastic

brotherhood, of whose moral and intellectual improvement they were the

watchful guardians. The compliment paid to this Abbey and its numerous

inmates by William of Malmesbury,[181] already quoted, appears to have

been well merited. But in later times it was still more deserving of

admiration. The magnificent style of its architecture, the number and

richness of its shrines, tombs, and chapels, the elegance of design and

beauty of workmanship by which they were distinguished, did honour to

the classical taste of the abbots, and fostered that national love of

the fine arts which has never found more zealous or more munificent

patrons than among the old English Hierarchy.

They loved the arts: what taste and truth approved,

What genius formed they patronized and loved.

The Abbey cloisters and offices have almost disappeared; they were

demolished by the commissioners; but, like those of St. Albans, their

remembrance is perpetuated in the sacred edifice of the conventual

church to which they belonged, and which has happily escaped those

violent state commotions which have exploded more than once under its

very walls. Its dimensions bespeak the early importance to which it laid

claim as one of the great temples of the national religion;[182] whilst

the style and elaborate execution exhibited in detail, do full justice

to the noble design of the general mass as it first meets the eye. This

church contains a rich and varied series of monuments, from the “early

style to that of the late perpendicular. They amount to at least a

dozen--all of excellent workmanship, and several of very singular

composition. It contains also several good specimens of stone and iron

work.” It is also enriched with a series of genealogical portraits in

stained glass of the De Clares, the Despensers, and other benefactors of

the Abbey--

---- who struggled to keep alive

The lamp of Hope o’er man’s bewildered lot.

But the <g>Gateway</g> is the only remaining feature that conveys to the

spectator’s mind some idea of what the Abbey itself must have been in

the days of its prosperity. It is a structure of great solidity, finely

proportioned, crowned with embattled walls, and is much admired by

architects and others for the beauty of its Norman arch. In its minuter

features, it displays much of the fine and graceful workmanship usually

observed in <g>Gateways</g> of

[Illustration]

its class and period. Like that of St. Albans, it is said to have been

the prison of the Abbot’s jurisdiction; and certainly no building

connected with the monastery could have been more adapted for a place of

“durance.” It was the strongest portion of the conventual buildings, and

in cases of emergency served the double purpose of prison and barbican.

At the period of the Dissolution it was particularly specified as one of

the conventual buildings that were to be kept up.

When yonder broken Arch was whole,

’Twas there was dealt the weekly dole;

And where yon mouldering columns nod,

The Abbey sent the hymn to God.

So fleets the world’s uncertain span;

Nor zeal for God, nor love to man,

Gives mortal monuments a date,

Beyond the power of time and fate.--SCOTT.

The Abbey church of Tewkesbury presents in design and construction the

characteristic features of its class and era. It is built in the usual

form of a cross; with the central tower, erected over the great arcade

which divides the transepts, and separates the nave from the choir.

“This tower is considered the finest Norman specimen of its kind in

England, and was only equalled by that of Malmesbury, now in ruins. It

was built early in the twelfth century, by Robert, Consul and Earl of

Gloucester, and patron of the Abbey.

[Sidenote: 1130. {]

In the first era of Norman architecture, towers of very large dimensions

and great height were placed within the centre or at the west end of the

cathedral and abbey churches. Many of these now lose the appearance of

their real height from their extreme solidity. This abbey tower, like

those of St. Albans, Lincoln, and others, was originally finished with a

lofty wooden spire, covered with lead;” a plan which is still observed

in Germany, where the church spires, constructed of wood and covered

with tin or iron, serve as distant landmarks to the traveller. In forest

countries this was not only ornamental but necessary. “One of the

earliest deviations from the original timber spire to that of stone was

in that of Salisbury Cathedral.”

The height of the abbey tower is upwards of a hundred and thirty feet.

The height of spires and towers is usually found to be equal to the

height and length of the nave--or, more accurately perhaps, of the

transept. (Mitred Abbeys, Architect. Discourses: Notes.) Externally,

this tower is a very striking feature in the landscape, and is much

improved by the pinnacles at each corner, which, however, are

comparatively modern. The three tiers of arcade mouldings on the outer

walls are highly ornamental, and in the intermediate row intersect each

other, so as to give the whole square mass a light and graceful

appearance.

<g>Cloisters.</g>--There are some traces of the cloisters remaining on the

_South_ side of the _nave_. They were in the perpendicular style, very

rich, and contain the remains of several stalls and screen-work carved

in oak. The windows are very elegant. In several instances the tracery

is quite fresh and highly ornamental. The upper windows are nearly of

the same character, but those underneath are of richer workmanship, with

mullions, transoms, and all the minute chisel-work of the florid style.

This part of the conventual remains is full of interest, and carries

back the spectator into times when the genius of architecture, fostered

by the spirit of religion, shed unrivalled lustre over the land.

Now, if this <g>Cloister</g>, fallen and gone,

Ye fain would view as once it shone,

Pace ye with reverend step, I pray,

The moss-grown and forgotten way;

While murmurs low the fitful wind,

Winning to peace the meeken’d mind;

And evening, in her solemn stole,

With stillness o’er those woods afar,

Leads in blue shade her bright’ning star,

As spreads the slow gloom from the pole.

Cloisters were first introduced as an appendage to the larger

monasteries, and in this variable climate their use is sufficiently

obvious. They are common to all the chief conventual houses in England;

but the most remarkable and capacious are those of Canterbury,

Salisbury, Norwich, Exeter, and Gloucester. They were particularly

adapted to conventual life; the “ambulatory” round the square, its open

windows that descended by a dividing mullion to the floor,[183] and the

small grass-covered cemetery that occupied the centre of the

enclosure--the silence of the place--the sanctity of every object

around--all favoured a spirit of monastic seclusion, while, at the same

time, the inmates found under these solemn arcades that healthful air,

exercise, and social intercourse which they were not permitted to enjoy

in public.

[Illustration]

The modern entrance to the church is from the north side through a

portal of considerable width and elevation, and is furnished with iron

gates. Over the entrance is a mutilated image of the Madonna, under

whose tutelary guardianship the abbey enjoyed many ages of prosperity.

In one of the round massive columns near the entrance into the north

aisle, is an ancient <g>Piscina</g>, or vessel for holy water; and attached to

the same pillar are two antique alms-boxes, which appear to have been

the expressive monitors of charity during many generations.

The internal area of the church consists of the nave, the transepts,

with two extensive side aisles, and a semicircular aisle surrounding the

chancel. The lateral aisles, which are rather lower than the body of the

church, are divided from the nave by double rows of massive pillars,

which bear the stamp of the twelfth century. In the aisle, which forms a

semicircular sweep from the north to the south ends of the transept is

the modern vestry--an apartment in which the archives of the abbey were

formerly kept. The whole of the interior--the nave, choir, aisles, and

transepts, are rich in the monuments of past ages. Shrines,

tabernacle-work, sacella, tombs, inscriptions, religious imagery,

military and heraldic badges, impart an air of solemn magnificence to

the scene, and address the spectator from every part of the walls. The

principal arcades, by which the nave is divided from the aisles, are

circular, like those in the Cathedral of Gloucester.[184] The centre, or

nave, was highest in most of the great churches, and had a breadth

scarcely less than the space of the pier arches.

<g>The Grand Entrance</g> from the west is the most striking point of view in

the whole structure. The Great West Window is “perpendicular,” converted

into a very lofty Norman arch of great depth, with shafts and mouldings.

“The clerestory windows of the nave are inserted in the Norman arcade;

those of the <g>Choir</g> are of the finest decorated tracery, with

considerable remains of ancient stained glass.” In design and

workmanship the arch possesses nearly every feature that can enter into

the combination of what is beautiful and even sublime in architecture.

The perspective, though injured by modern arrangement--the introduction

of the organ, and the consequent interruption of the grand

coup-d’œil--is still solemn and impressive, and readily suggests to the

mind a clear idea of what it must have been when the eye could range at

once through the whole nave, with nothing between that and the choir to

intercept the view.

[Illustration]

The nave in style and construction is Norman; the piers are round,

massive, and lofty. At the intersection of the cross is the fine Norman

tower, so much admired by all connoisseurs and men practically skilled

in the science of architecture. It is ornamented with rows of arches in

successive stages, both within and without, which give lightness to the

mass, and take off the heaviness that would otherwise mark the

structure.

The choir has a multangular east end, with additional chapels and a

Chapter-house, all of excellent decorated character. Of the windows in

the aisles, some of them are decorated, others perpendicular. The great

window of this arch was thrown down in a storm in 1661, and twenty years

elapsed before it was restored.

King selects the <g>Western Portico</g> of Tewkesbury as the grandest in

England in point of extent and effect. The western front, or façade, has

always occupied a prominent part in every large church. “It exhibits in

various instances a gradual alteration of style, from the early Norman

to that at the close of the fifteenth century. In the principal feature,

the entrance doorway, there is a remarkable difference between those in

England and upon the Continent. The German and French _portail_ forms

nearly one half of the total space, and is surmounted by a circular or

rose window of vast diameter;” while in the instance before us, as also

at St. Albans, the doorway bears no relative proportion to the

magnificent window which rises above it.

[Illustration]

<g>Font.</g>--In the south transept is a beautiful baptismal Font, with a

cover, richly carved, and finished with a cross. “The variety exhibited

in the design of these is infinite, and upon no subject connected with

ecclesiastical rites did sculptors exert more fancy and taste than in

the design and workmanship bestowed on the font.” No genuine Saxon work

is so frequent as this; fonts have often survived the church in which

they originally stood, and been preserved as venerable relics of

primitive Christianity. In the present specimen, however, elegance,

design, and execution, not antiquity, are what chiefly claim attention,

and which never fail to receive it from all who are curious in subjects

of this kind.

Towards the close of the fourteenth century, a very ornamental appendage

to fonts was introduced, and chiefly in the eastern counties. These

consisted of carved oaken covers, exquisitely wrought and embellished,

which were suspended from the ceiling, moveable at pleasure, and not

unfrequently consisting of a pinnacle or frame several feet high. They

have been classed by Mr. F. Simpson, in his Series of Baptismal Fonts,

into Saxon, early English, and decorated English of the lower era.--See

Dallaway, Bapt. Fonts, p. 205.

<g>The Roof</g> of this church has a great advantage over that of St. Albans,

being of stone, and forming a magnificent groined vault, the ribs of

which are richly carved at their points of intersection with curious

devices, and ornamented with much beautiful tracery, which at that

height has a particularly delicate appearance. The carvings, where the

ribs cross each other or meet in clusters, are all emblematical of some

passage in Scripture history, commemorative of events in that of the

order of Benedictines, or obscurely referring to others against which

the sculptor’s ingenuity indulged in a satirical humour. But here the

latter is by no means so conspicuous as in others; for in those early

times the ornaments of the churches were made the frequent vehicles of

bitter satire against some rival brotherhood, whose vices, true or

imputed, were hieroglyphically represented in the capitals, corbel

heads, and archways of their respective buildings.

“No instance of a genuine Anglo-Norman building,” says a well-known

authority, “possesses, or was intended to possess, a stone roof, which

is indicated by the position of the capitals. The Norman wooden roof was

open to the timbers, and hence the conflagration of the ancient churches

were disasters of frequent occurrence. That of Tewkesbury was completely

destroyed by fire--“igne consumpta.”

Far o’er the Severn’s crimson’d flood

That blazing Abbey flung its fire,

Till roof, and stall, and shrinèd rood

Their mass of smoking embers strew’d

On chancel, nave, and choir.

[Illustration]

<g>Cloister Bell-case.</g>--Among other striking remains of elaborate

workmanship with which the church was so profusely adorned, is a richly

carved fragment, with pinnacles, supposed to have been the case in which

was suspended the Cloister Bell, which at stated hours summoned the

monastic brotherhood to prayers. It is at once elegant in design, and

delicate in execution; and were larger models wanting, it would be

sufficient of itself to illustrate the beautiful style of architecture

to which it belongs.

Summoned by this bell, the whole brotherhood, with the Lord Abbot at

their head, were wont to assemble for vespers; when the well-known hymn,

in commemoration of the early life of their founder, Saint Benedict, was

chanted in full chorus:--

Ille florentes peragebat annos

Cum puer dulces patriæ penates

Liquit, et solus latuit silenti

Conditus antro.

Inter urticas, rigidosque sentes

Vicit altricem scelerum juventam;

Inde conscripsit documenta vitæ

Pulchra beatæ.

<g>The Tombs</g> and sepulchral antiquities which here proclaim the virtues of

the dead, and the sorrows of the living, are still numerous, though far

from what they are known to have been at the dissolution of the

monastery. Some of these are elaborate productions, and ably illustrate

that period when the purchase of masses and the erection of costly

sepulchres for the dead were the highest testimonies that could be

offered to their memory. But to secure posthumous fame, liberality to

the church was the surest channel, and of those erected to the great

benefactors of Tewkesbury several remain in good preservation. The most

interesting are those of Isabel, Countess of Warwick; of Hugh, Lord le

Despenser; of Sir Edward le Despenser; of Sir Guy d’O’Brien; of Abbot

Cheltenham; of Abbot Wakeman, &c. But the first in right of precedence,

though not in beauty of design or workmanship, is the tomb of the

founder, Robert Fitz-Hamon, to whose life the reader’s attention has

been already directed. It stood originally in the Chapter-house, where

he was buried in 1107; but in 1241 it was removed to its present

situation in the church, where his bones were deposited with great

solemnity in a tomb of grey marble, and afterwards enclosed with an

altar-chapel by the Lord Abbot Parker. During the improvements which

were made in the church about the end of the last century, this tomb was

opened and examined, when the mortal relics, after an interval of more

than six centuries, were brought once more to the light. At the head of

the stone coffin, between two and three feet long, was a circular sheet

of lead, in the inner fold of which were deposited the thigh-bones and

one arm entire, and which were, beyond doubt, the last earthly remains

of the venerable founder. It was originally ornamented with the

founder’s effigy and other ornaments in brass; but these were all

abstracted during the course of open spoliation which, subsequent to the

dissolution of religious houses, mutilated or destroyed many of the

finest sepulchral antiquities in the kingdom. The inscription which

formerly, in short and simple phrase, directed the stranger to the

founder’s tomb, was cut round the frieze of the chapel:--“In hac capella

jacet Dns. Robertus Filius Hamonis, hujus loci fundator.”--Antiq. of

Tewkesb.

<g>The Chancel</g> (p. 169), where this tomb, with several others, is still

shown, exhibits a combination of magnificent features. It is supported

by six pillars of noble proportions, and over these are seven windows of

stained glass, richly ornamented with effigies and armorial bearings of

the ancient Earls of Gloucester.

There the lone MONK would muse and read,

And meditate on sacred lore;

Or view the WARRIOR on his tomb,

With raised hands seeming to implore

Of Heaven a mitigated doom!

So shaded would each figure lie,

Tall arches pointing overhead,

That, though a window placed on high,

Its gloom through distant colours shed,

So dim would lie in shades below,

That whether living shape or dead,

The monk who gazed might hardly know.

<g>Le Despenser’s Chapel</g>, or that dedicated to St. Mary Magdalen, is a

beautiful specimen of the style called Gothic. The roof is elaborately

carved, supported on slender pillars of marble--now much destroyed. It

was originally adorned with representations of our Saviour and his

apostles, and emblazoned with armorial bearings of the families with

which the Despensers claimed relationship. Under a canopy of state, on

the same side, is another--consisting of three compartments, each

diminishing as it ascends, till the last terminates in a point--with the

effigies of Lord and Lady Despenser, in white marble. The whole of this

shrine is richly carved, and, with its arches and pinnacles gradually

tapering off in the form of an obelisk, is a very elegant and beautiful

object, and well illustrates the florid style so prevalent in the

fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. It was founded by the Lady Isabella

Despenser, the Countess of Warwick already mentioned, in honour of St.

Mary Magdalen. The countess died in the Minories, London, in 1439, and

was buried at the right hand of her father in the choir.--See, _ante_,

p. 179.

The chapel of <g>the Holy Trinity</g>, on the south side of the chancel, was

erected by the Lady Elizabeth, to the memory of her husband, Edward le

Despenser, whose figure as an armed knight, with the bearings of the

family emblazoned on his surcoat, occupies the top in a posture of

supplication. What remains of these chapels is sufficient to show how

highly they must have been ornamented, particularly the roof, upon which

great taste and ingenuity have been displayed.

Nearly opposite the Despenser monument, and in the aisle surrounding the

chancel, is the tomb of Guy d’O’Brien, already mentioned in the

genealogical descent of the manor, as the second husband of the Lady

Despenser. It is of open tabernacle-work, and under the arch is a

recumbent figure of a knight in armour, with the arms of the O’Briens

(Lords of Thomond) and the Montacutes.

Not far from the preceding, is the chapel of <g>St. Edmund the Martyr</g>. The

monument is supported by an arch, under which, according to the fashion

of those days, is a monk in the last stage of emaciation, stretched upon

a shroud, and serving as a moral lesson to his brethren and all

spectators, that to such complexion they must come at last. It is richly

ornamented with Gothic ornaments, all minutely carved; and is understood

to have been designed and executed by Wakeman, who was Abbot of

Tewkesbury at the dissolution of the abbey; but he was not buried here.

In a small chapel adjoining that of the Holy Trinity before mentioned,

is the tomb traditionally known as that of the twelfth abbot, who

presided in this monastery twenty years, and died in the middle of the

thirteenth century. In Willis’s time, says Dyde, there appears to have

been an effigy of this abbot, as that author mentions, that “under this

arch are the effigies of a man lying in full proportion, which,” he

adds, “is said to have been for Robert Fortington, the last abbot.”

Near this are the tombs of two other abbots; one a monument of dark

marble, with the inscription in Saxon letters, of “Johannes Abbas hujus

loci;” and another in the south wall, to the memory of “Alanus Dominus

Abbas.” The latter is a fine example of its kind, and has often been

engraved.

[Illustration]

On the south side, at <g>the Abbots’ Entrance</g> into the church, is a

monument with the arms of the De Clares, Earls of Gloucester, erected,

as it has been conjectured, to the memory of Beaufort, Duke of

Somerset,[185] who was beheaded after the battle of Tewkesbury. But it

is probable, from the arms and other circumstances, that it is rather a

memorial of the De Clares, several of whose name and family are interred

within these precincts. The tomb is close to a rich-pointed doorway in

the south transept, called the Abbot’s entrance, which communicated with

the adjoining cloisters.

On the north side, and under an arch not unlike the preceding, is a

recumbent figure of the unfortunate Lord Wenlock, whom, in a moment of

fierce exasperation, Somerset struck down with his battle-axe in the

field adjoining: but his body, as Leland reports, “was removed to some

other place.”

Under the Tower is a brass plate with an inscription to the memory of

Edward, Prince of Wales, only son of Henry the Sixth, the circumstances

of whose death will be more particularly noticed hereafter. The spot

where he was interred, however, is a mystery; it is merely stated that,

in the common fosse, dug for the reception of the other victims, in the

abbey, the body of the unfortunate prince was included.[186]

No useless coffin enclosed his breast,

Nor in sheet, nor in shroud, they bound him.

The epitaphs in the church are numerous--some curious, and all more or

less illustrative of feelings by which, in general, the mourners were

actuated, and of times when a mixture of classic taste and monkish

superstition was the chief characteristic. Out of the many, that which

follows is selected as a specimen. It is taken from a brass plate, on a

stone in the body of the church, and has often been copied. (Histor. and

Antiq. of Tewkes.) “In hoc Tumulo sepulta jacet Amia uxor Johannis

Wiatt, Tewkesburiensis generosi, quæ spiritum exhalavit xxv August., Ao.

Dni.” [Year effaced.] It is an acrostic--_Amie Wiatt._

In cujus obitum versiculos perlegito subsequentes.

<g>A</g>: A me disce mori, mors est sors omnibus una;

<g>M</g>: Mortis et esca fui mortis et esca fores.

<g>I</g>: In terram ex terra terrestris massa meabis;

<g>E</g>: Et capiet cineres urna parata cinis.

<g>V</g>: Vivere vis cœlo, terrenam temnite vitam:

<g>V</g>: Vita pijs mors est; mors mihi vita pia.

<g>J</g>: Jejunes, vigiles, ores, credasq potenti,

<g>A</g>: Ardua fac: non est mollis ad astra via.

<g>T</g>: Te Scriptura vocat, te sermo, ecclesia Mater.

<g>T</g>: Teque vocat Sponsus, Spiritus atque Pater.

<g>N.B. The Area</g> consists of a grand principal aisle or nave, a transept or

cross aisle, and two spacious side aisles, somewhat lower than the main

body of the church, and separated from the nave by two rows of massive

pillars. Also a handsome semicircular aisle surrounding the chancel,

from the north to the south ends of the transepts, in which are the

vestry (where the abbey records were formerly kept), several recesses

and chapels dedicated to the founder, the benefactors, and other persons

of distinction, with several Gothic tombs of splendid execution. We

_recapitulate_ these as the chief features of the Area.

Taking his position in the centre of the chancel, the stranger commands

the most imposing features in the church; the rich groined roof, the

bold massive pillars, the richly-sculptured tombs, the painted windows,

blazoned shields, emblematic groups and Gothic inscriptions--all strike

the mind with feelings of deep solemnity, and carry us back into the

gorgeous imagery of the middle ages. Well may we exclaim with

Quintilian--“En morti sacratos lapides!”--See, _ante_, p. 169.

<g>There</g>, in their sepulchres of costly art,

Where still the gold clings to the Parian stone,

Legend and shield and effigy impart

The accumulated fame of ages flown,

O’er sainted dust the classic wreath is strewn.

But now no mass is said--no requiem sung,

The priest is mute, the choristers are gone;

No votive “rose” upon the shrine is hung,

No flowers upon the FOUNDER’S tomb are flung.

<g>The Chapter-house.</g>--This appendage to the Abbey--in which was the

original tomb of the founder--is considered from the best evidence to be

coeval with the building. Chapter-houses were introduced by the early

Norman prelates, and formed an indispensable adjunct to every cathedral

and monastery subsequently erected under their superintendence. They

were not, however, built as merely necessary to the conventual

establishments, and for assembling the members of the church at their

elections, but they were likewise the depositaries of deceased superiors

and noble benefactors. Here Fitz-Hamon, the great benefactor, or rather

founder of Tewkesbury Abbey, was buried, as already mentioned, but

afterwards removed to a more sacred dormitory within the church. The

approach to the Chapter-house was uniformly through the cloisters, and

in certain instances, as at Chester and Bristol, it had a large

vestibule. That of Tewkesbury is now used as a school. The windows are

lancet-pointed, and round the base and walls are pannellings and arcade

mouldings after the Norman style.--See Discourses on Architecture, with

the Analysis of Conventual Churches.

On the outside of the south wall is “a very beautiful arch, now closed,

which opened a communication between the south aisle and the remaining

abbey and cloisters.” From the style of the remaining arches in the side

walls, the latter appear to have been extremely handsome. In the south

wall, near the vestry door, is the tomb of <g>Alanus</g>--already named--the

friend and biographer of Thomas-à-Becket, who died in 1202. The body is

“deposited in a coffin of Purbeck marble, laid under a very plain

semi-quatrefoil arch.” The coffin was opened in 1795; when the lid was

taken off, the body appeared surprisingly perfect, considering that it

had lain there nearly six hundred years. The folds of the drapery were

very distinct, but from being exposed to the air, the whole very soon

crumbled away, and left little more than a skeleton. The _boots_,

however, still retained their shape and a certain degree of elasticity,

and hung in large folds about the legs. On his right side lay a plain

crosier of wood, neatly turned, the top of which was gilded, having a

cross cut in it. It was five feet eleven inches in length and remarkably

light. On his left side lay the fragments of a chalice.--Sepulch.

Antiq.

<g>Stalls</g> are of the same early introduction as the other Norman

appendages. “When composed of stone,” says the author already quoted,

“they were first used near the altar by the officiating priests in

choirs, and as subsellia in parish chancels.” Those of oak, now seen in

the <g>North Transept</g> of the abbey, formerly stood in the choir. They are

tolerably perfect; and in their canopies much intricate design and

delicate carving are apparent. “In choirs, where many were united in one

general plan, oak was soon introduced in place of stone,” as a material

much better adapted to the purpose of elaborate carving.

[Illustration]

The cenotaph of Abbot Wich is at the entrance of St. Edward’s Chapel; it

represents, as already stated, an emaciated figure, surrounded by the

ensigns of mortality, which seem to address every ear in these emphatic

words--Memento mori!

The east end is hexagonal, separated from the aisles by six short

massive columns supporting pointed arches. Beneath these are some larger

monuments, and over them are windows fitted with painted glass. In two

of them are very curious figures of knights in armour, eight in number,

and represented standing under very rich Gothic canopies, each filling

nearly one of the principal compartments of the windows, some in mail,

others in plated armour. They are said to represent Robert first earl of

Gloucester, the three Gilberts de Clare, Richard de Clare, Hugh le

Despenser the younger, and one of the La Zouch family; all of whom have

been already noticed in the genealogical introduction to this

subject.--History of the County, art. Tewkesbury.

<g>Benedictine.</g> To fashion my reply to your demand

Is not to boast, though I proclaim the honours

Of our profession. _Four emperors_,

Forty-six kings, and one-and-fifty queens,

Have changed their royal ermines for our sables.

These cowls have clothed the heads of fourteen hundred

And six kings’ sons; of dukes, great marquises,

And earls, two thousand and above four hundred

Have turn’d their princely coronets into

An humble coronet of hair, left by

The razor--thus.--SHIRLEY.

<g>Tewkesbury Abbey</g> was the last of the monastic establishments in

Gloucestershire which surrendered to the mandate of Henry the Eighth.

The surrender was made, under the convent seal, by John Wich, with

fifteen of the brotherhood, on the 9th day of January, 1539, being the

thirty-first year of the king’s reign, and began in these terms:--“To

all Christian people to whom these presents shall come, We the Abbot,

etc., and Brothers of the said monastery, send greeting. Know ye, that

we upon full consideration, certain knowledge, and mere motion, and for

divers causes just and reasonable moving our souls and consciences

thereto, have freely and voluntarily given and granted to our Lord the

King,” etc.

The clear annual “value of all the possessions belonging to the said

monastery, as well spiritual as temporal, besides £136 8_s._ 1_d._,

granted in fees and annuities to several persons by letters patent,

under the convent seal, for their lives, was £1595 17_s._ 6_d._ The

pensions assigned by the royal commissioners--Southwell, Petre, Kairn,

Price, Kingsmen, Paulett, and Bernars--to the abbot, the prior, and

other members of the establishment, amounted to £532 6_s._ 8_d._,

leaving a handsome balance of £1063 10_s._ 10_d._ in favour of his

Majesty’s exchequer. The keys of the treasury were delivered to Richard

Paulett, receiver; but the records and evidences belonging to the

monastery, which were deposited therein, and the houses and buildings

which were to remain undefaced, were committed to the keeping of Sir

John Whittington. Of the houses and buildings to be preserved were,--the

lodging called Newark, leading from the gate to the <g>Abbot’s Lodgings</g>,

with the buttery, pantry, cellar, larder, kitchen, and pastry thereto

adjoining: the late abbot’s lodging; the hostrey; the great gate

entering into the court, with the lodging over the same; the Abbot’s

stable, bakehouse, brewhouse, and slaughter-house; the almary, barn, and

dairy-house; the great barn next the river Avon; the malt-house, with

the garners in the same; the ox-house in the Penton gate, and the

lodging over the same.”--These afford some notion of the domestic

offices of a lord abbot of that day.

The buildings “deemed to be superstitious or superfluous, and therefore

to be demolished, were the church--but which was happily preserved with

its appendages, and made parochial--the chapels, the cloister, the

chapter-house, the two dormitories; the infirmary, with the chapels and

lodgings within the same; the workhouse, with another house adjoining to

the same; the convent kitchen, the library, the misericorde, the old

hostrey, the chamber and lodgings, the new hall, the old parlour

adjoining the abbot’s lodgings, the cellarer’s or butler’s lodging, the

poultry-house, the garner, the almary, and all other houses and lodgings

not before reserved.”

The list of materials to be converted to the king’s use, and delivered

to the commissioners, were as follows:--the leads remaining on the

choir, aisles, and chapels annexed; “the cloister, chapter-house,

fratery, St. Michael’s chapel, halls, infirmary, and gatehouse, were

estimated at 180 fodder. The bells remaining in the steeple were eight

poizes, by estimation 14,600 lbs. weight.”

The jewels reserved for his Majesty’s use were,--two mitres, gilt,

garnished with rugged pearls and counterfeit stones. The silver plate

consisted of silver-gilt, 329 oz.--parcel of do. 605 oz.--plain silver,

497 oz.--making a total of 1431 ounces, which evinced no great luxury in

that department. The ornaments reserved for his Majesty’s use were,--one

cope of silver tissue, with one chesible and tunicle of the same; one

cope of gold tissue, with one chesible and two tunicles of the same. The

ornaments, goods, and chattels belonging to the said monastery were sold

by the said commissioners, as in a book of sales thereof made appears,

for the sum of £194 8_s._ To money given to thirty-eight religious

persons of the said monastery, £80 13_s._ 4_d._ To one hundred and

forty-four servants, for their wages and liveries, £75 10_s._ Paid the

debts of the said monastery, £18 12_s._ These together made a sum of

£174 15_s._ 4_d._, which deducted from the proceeds of the sale, left a

balance in the commissioners’ hands of £19 12_s._ 8_d._--History of the

Abbey, referring to the Record in the Augmentation-office, dated 38 Hen.

VIII.--Dyde.

The ecclesiastical livings in the gift of the monastery were

numerous;[187] the abbots, who successively presided as the spiritual

lords of Tewkesbury, were twenty-six in number, and filling a long

interval of four hundred and thirty-four years. Their names

are,--Giraldus, 1104; Robert, 1110; Benedict, 1124; Roger, 1137;

Fromund, 1162--during whose abbacy the conventual church was burnt. (A

vacancy occurs here.) Robert II., 1182. (Another vacancy.) Alan, prior

of Canterbury, 1187; Walter, 1202; Hugh, 1213; Bernard, a monk of

Tewkesbury, 1215, but not approved; Peter, a monk of Worcester, 1216;

Robert Fortington, prior of the Abbey, 1232; Thomas Stoke, 1253; Richard

de Norton, 1276; Thomas Kemsey, 1282; John Cotes, 1328; Thomas de Legh,

1361; Thomas Chesterton, 1362; Thomas Parker, 1390; William Bristow,

1414; John Abingdon, 1443; John de Salys; (?) John Strensham--supposed

that in his time the abbey was made parliamentary; Richard Cheltenham,

1481; Henry Bewly, 1509; John Wich or Wakeman, the last abbot, and first

bishop of Gloucester, 1531. The abbey demesnes consisted of Stanway,

modified and enlarged by Abbot Cheltenham; Forthampton, on the right

bank of the Severn, about a mile below Tewkesbury; and Tewkesbury Park,

Manor Place, on the east or left bank of the Severn.--Hist. and Antiq.

of Tewkes. Chron. Series of the Abbots.

<g>Domesday Survey.</g>--In Teodechesberie were fourscore and fifteen hides in

the time of King Edward. Of these forty-five were in demean, and free

from all royal service and tax, except the service due to the lord of

the manor. The manor was in _capite_. There were in demean twelve

plough-tillages, and fifty between the _servi_ and _ancillæ_, and

sixteen _bordars_ in waiting about the hall, and two mills of 20 _sol._,

and one fishery, and a salt-pit at Wich, belonging to the manor.... In

all Teodechesberie there are 120 acres of meadow, and a wood one mile

and a half long, and as much broad.... There are now thirteen burgesses

paying 20 _sol._ a-year; a market, established by the queen,[188] pays

11 _sol._ and 8 _den._ And there is one plough-tillage more, and

twenty-two between the _servi_ and _ancillæ_, a fishery, and a salt-pit,

&c.... This manor of Tewkesbury, when entire in the time of King Edward,

was worth 100 _lib._ Whereas Radulf received 12 _lib._ because it was

spoiled and disordered.... Brictric, the son of Algar, held this manor

in the time of King Edward; and at that time had the underwritten

estates of other thanes under his jurisdiction, &c. &c.--Dyde, 135. [The

Norman pound or _lib._ equal to 12 ounces solid silver = £3 2_s._

sterling; the _sol._ = 3 shillings sterling; 48 Saxon shillings = £1

sterling.[189]--Ibid.]--See References and Authorities.

<g>Environs.</g>--The first locality in the immediate neighbourhood to which

the stranger’s attention is directed is the ancient battle-field, or, as

it is now emphatically called, the “Bloody Meadow.” It was on this

spot--the “field of Tewkesbury,”--that, on the 4th of May, 1471, the

grand question between the rival houses of York and Lancaster was

finally decided. The subject is familiar to every reader of history and

the drama. It is commemorated, with many interesting details, by the old

chroniclers; it is chosen by Shakspeare himself as the closing scene of

one of his most powerful dramas; while the fair author of “Margaret of

Anjou” has made it the theme of a spirited and graceful poem, in which

the morning of the battle is thus introduced:--

“’Tis May--a bright and cloudless morn

Smiles on the world--on every thorn

The newly-open’d blossom glows,

And rich the woodland music flows;

Each hails the promise for his own,

As if the beam on nature’s face

Shone forth his single crest to grace,

And spake to him alone.

Alas! the welkin’s dazzling eye

But mocks the fleeting pageantry.”

[Illustration]

“When <g>Queen Margaret</g>,” says Grafton, “knew that King Edward was come so

near her, she tarried not long at Bath, but, removing in great haste to

Bristow, sent out certain horsemen to espie whether she might safely

pass ouer the riuer Seuerne, by Gloucester, into Wales, whither she

determined first to go to augment her armie; and then without any delay,

with speere and shielde, to set on her enemyes wheresoeuer they would

abyde.” But having learned from the spies that the city of Gloucester

had been intimidated by Richard, the king’s brother; that the Governor,

Lord Beauchamp, had peremptorily refused to allow her to pass over their

bridge; and that the townspeople were neither to be won by promises nor

deterred by threats, “she shortly departed from Bristow with her armie

to a propre towne on Seuerne-syde, called <g>Tewkesbury</g>. The Lord Beauchamp

tooke from her rere-ward more ordinance than she might have well spared,

which did to her no small prejudice.” The march lasted from sun to

sun--impeded by the wretched cross-roads, and in continual skirmishes

with the enemy.

“In weary march the night had pass’d,

And Lancaster with joy espied

Fair <g>Tewkesbury’s</g> hoary towers at last

Reflected in Sabrina’s tide.

Gloster had closed her gates, and sent

Loud insults from each battlement:

Nor did the rebel town make known

Her enmity in scoffs alone;

For many a mile, from copse and dell,

As onward passed the arméd train,

An arrowy shower around them fell,

And many a gallant form was slain--

Unseen the hand that brought his bane.

Bold Beaufort, who the vaward held,

As morning’s dewy mists dispell’d,

And Tewkesbury’s turrets tipt with light

Rose on his view--a welcome sight--

Through all his host the signal pass’d.”

Here, after their harassing night march, the troops were permitted to

halt for some slight rest and refreshment; and, drawn up close to the

banks of the Severn, could scan during their hasty repast the verdant

field, now bright with the morning sun, over which the angel of

destruction was hovering with outstretched but invisible wings. But full

of hope, and encouraged by the words and presence of the Queen and her

son Prince Edward, who had both shared with them the terrors of the

night, and now anticipated a triumphant day, no thoughts of discomfiture

once crossed the soldier’s mind.

“On Severn’s banks, in gladsome groups,

In thoughtless mirth, the scatter’d troops

Waste the free hour; some cast aside

Their heavy harness; some divide

With vigorous arm the opposing tide.

Nor did the crested CHIEFTAINS scorn

Their cumbrous helms aside to throw,

And woo the freshness of the morn

To fan each gallèd brow.

And many a richly blazon’d shield

Lay scatter’d on the dewy field.

But the loud laugh, the song, the jest--

Blithe echoes of the careless breast--

Rose from the _humbler_ swarm; the rest,

Though thrown aside their _outward_ gear,

Did still their bosom-burthens bear!”

“When the Queen,” continues the chronicle, “was come to Tewkesbury, and

knew that Kinge Edward followed her with his horsemen at the very backe,

she was sore abashed, and wonderfully amazed, and determined in

herselfe to flie into Wales, to Jasper, Earle of Pembroke. But the Duke

of Somerset willyng in no wise to flie backward, for doubts that he

casted might chaunce by the way, determined there to tarrye to take

suche fortune as God woulde sende.” When Oxford advised that, for

another day at least, and until Pembroke’s reinforcements should have

arrived, the Queen should not hazard a battle, where in point of numbers

the chances were so much against her,--and added that if she did, her

advisers would “think of it ere night,”--

“Not fight to-day!” cried Somerset:

“Thy words would tempt me to forget

That I have seen thee play a part

Which vouches for thy manly heart.

‘Think on’t ere night!’ Why, what care I?

’Tis _now_ we’re call’d by Destiny!

Yes, Oxford, I do hope thy sword,

Ere this bright morn has pass’d away,

Shall proudly contradict thy word--

Yes, Oxford, _we must fight to-day_!”

This resolution having been confirmed by the sanction of the Queen; the

Prince, her son, exclaims, in bitter remembrance of the field of Barnet,

in which both the Nevils had perished--

“Is’t not time

To close the scene of woe and crime!

This hour _shall_ close it! Ne’er again

Will I turn back from battle-plain

A beaten fugitive! Ere Even

With parting smile shall gild the west,

This sword shall triumph win, or rest--

Victory on earth, or--peace in heaven.”

Hereupon “the Duke of Somerset, like a pollitike warriour, trenched hys

campe round about of such an altitude, and so strongly, that his enemyes

by no means easily could make any entry; and further, perceiuyng that

his part could neuer escape without battaile, determined there to see

the ende of hys goode or yll chaunce; wherefore he marshalled his hoste

after this maner: he and the lord Iohn of Somerset, his brother, led the

forewarde; the middle warde was gouerned by the Prince, under the

conduyte of the Lord of Saint Iohns and Lorde Wenlocke, whome King

Edward had highly before preferred, and promoted to the degree of a

baron.” [This fact the chronicler mentions in order, probably, to

account for his subsequent conduct, and to justify the suspicion that he

was not a hearty partisan in the queen’s cause.] “The rere-warde was put

in the rule of the Earle of Deuonshire. When all these battayles were

thus ordered and placed, the Queene and her sonne, Prince Edwarde, rode

about the fielde encouraging their souldiors, promisyng to them, if

theye did shew themselves valiaunt against their enemyes, great rewardes

and high promocions, innumerable gaine of the spoyle and bootye of their

adversaryes, and, above all other, fame and renoune through the whole

realme.”

“Give me earth’s triumphs,” Margaret cries,

“This nether world concludes my schemes!

Ne’er could I teach my soul to prize

The moping beadsman’s dreams.

‘_Victory on Earth!_’--Friends! to this hour

A whole life’s energies are due!

Whate’er of ardour, skill, or power,

Your noble breasts imbue,

Call to the conflict! loudly call,

This grasping hour demands them all

’Tis a vast moment! ’tis the goal

Toward which, through years of strife, the soul

With untied vigour bent its force--

And _now_ we touch the limits of the course!”

“In the meantime,” says the chronicler, “King Edward, which the day

before had come within a mile of Tewkesbury, put his brother, the Duke

of Gloucester, in the forewarde, and himselfe in the middlewarde; the

Lorde Marques and the Lorde Hastyngs led the rere garde. The Duke of

Gloucester, which lacked no pollicy, valiauntly with his battayle

assaulted the trenche of the Queene’s campe, whome the Duke of Somerset

with no less courage defended. Then the Duke of Gloucester, for a very

pollitik purpose, with all his men reculed backe, the which Somerset

perceiuying, like a knight more couragious than circumspect, came out of

his trenche with his whole battayle and followed the chase, not doubting

but the Prince and the Lorde Wenlocke, with the middlewarde, had

followed just at his backe. But whether the Lorde Wenlocke dissimulated

the matter for King Edward’s sake, or whether his harte serued him not,

still he stoode lookyng on. The Duke of Gloucester, takyng the advantage

that he adventured for, turned again face to face to the Duke of

Somerset’s battayle; which, nothyng lesse thinkyng on than of the

returne, were within a small space shamefully discomfited. <g>Somerset</g>,

seeyng hys unfortunate chaunce, returned to the middlewarde, where,

seeyng the Lorde <g>Wenlocke</g> standyng still, and after having reuyled and

called hym traytor, with hys axe strake the braynes out of his heade.

“The Duke of Gloucester entered the trench, and after him the King,

where, after no long conflict, the Queene’s part went almost all to

wrecke, for the most part were slaine. Some fled for succour in the

thicke of the Parke, some into the Monastarye, some into other places.

The Queene was founde in her chariot almost dead for sorow, the Prince

was apprehended and kept close by Sir Richard Croftes. The Duke of

Somerset and the Lorde Prior of St. Johns were by force taken prisoners,

and many other also. In the field and chase were slaine John, Lord

Somerset, the Earle of Deuonshire,

[Illustration]

Sir John Delues, Sir Edward Hampden, Sir Robert Wychingham, Sir John

Lewkenor, and three thousand other.” In this battle the last blood and

strength of the House of Lancaster being spent, Edward was established

----“On England’s royal throne,

Repurchased by the blood of enemies.--

What valiant foemen, like to autumn’s corn,

Have we mow’d down, in tops of all their pride!

Three Dukes of Somerset, threefold renown’d

For hardy and undoubted champions:

Two Cliffords, as the father and the son,

And two Northumberlands; two braver men

Ne’er spurr’d their coursers to the trumpet’s sound.

With them the two brave bears, Warwick and Montague,

That in their chains fetter’d the Kingly Lion,

And made the forest tremble when they roar’d.

Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat.”----

The chronicle then proceeds with the sad detail as follows:--“After the

field ended, King Edward made a proclamation that whosoever could bring

Prince Edward to him alive or dead should have an annuitie of an hundred

pound duryng his lyfe, and the Prince’s lyfe to be saved. Sir Richard

Croftes, a wise and a valiaunt knight, nothing mistrustyng the king’s

former promise, brought forth his prisoner, Prince Edward, beyng a

goodly feminine and a well-featured young gentleman, whome when King

Edward had well advised, he demanded of him howe he durst so

presumptuouslye enter into his realme with banner displayed. The Prince

beyng bold of stomack, and of a good courage, answered, saying, ‘To

recover my father’s kingdome and enheritage, from his father and

grandfather to him, and from him, after him, to me lineally descended.’

At these wordes King Edward sayde nothing, but with his hand thrust him

from him, or as some say stroke him with his gauntlet, whom incontinent

they yᵗstoode aboute, which were George, Duke of Clarence, Richard, Duke

of Gloucester, Thomas, Marques Dorset, and William, Lord Hastyngs,

sodainly stroke and cruelly murthered him. The bitternesse of which

murder some of the doers after in their latter dayes tasted and assayed

by the very rod of justice and punishment of God”--each of them, the

king excepted, having met with a tragical and untimely death. “His bodye

was homelye interred with the other simple corses in the churche of the

Monastarye of Blacke Monkes, in Tewkesbury.”

[Illustration]

This interview between the king and the prince is powerfully drawn by

Shakspeare,--in scene fifth of the third Part of “King Henry the

Sixth”--who takes the old chronicles of his day as his authority for the

death of <g>Prince Edward</g>, who received the daggers of the King,

Gloucester, and Clarence, in quick succession:--

_K. Edw._ Take that, the likeness of this railer here. (_Stabs him._)

_Glo._ Sprawl’st thou? take that to end thy agony.

_Clar._ And there’s for twitting me with perjury. (_Each stabs him in turn._)

It is supposed that, when the queen was found and introduced into the

presence of the conqueror, she was not aware of the extent of her

misery. She believed that her son at least had escaped the carnage of

the field, and believing this, all her agony was assuaged. But when the

dreadful truth flashed upon her, and she beheld in the looks of those

around her a ferocious exultation which could not be mistaken,--

“She look’d upon their weapons red,

She guess’d what blood their points had shed--

‘Where is my child? Mine only one!

Oh God--oh God! Is this my son?

Monsters! a mother’s curse lie strong

And heavy on ye! May the tongue--

The ceaseless tongue--which well I ween

Lives in the murderer’s murky breast--

With goading whispers, fell and keen,

Make havoc of your rest!

For ever in your midnight dream,

May the wan smile, which yet delays

On yon cold lips, appal your gaze--

And may a madden’d mother’s scream

Ring in your ears till ye awake,

And every limb with horror’s palsy shake!’--

An impulse like the grasp of death

Now hardly held her gasping breath.

Dire was the conflict. Mute she stood,

Striving--and fain to utter more,

Her writhing features struggled sore

With black convulsion, till the blood

Burst from her lips, a ghastly flood.

Then nature gave the combat o’er,

And the heart-stricken queen fell senseless on the floor!”

Queen Margaret, adds the chronicle, “lyke a prisoner, was brought to

London, where shee remayned till King Reyner, her father, raunsomed her

with money, which summe, as the French writers affirme, he borrowed of

King Lewis XI.; and because he was not of power nor abilitye to repaye

so great a dutye, he sold to the French Kinge and hys heyres the

kingdomes of Naples and both the Sicilies, with the countie of Prouynce,

which is the very tytle that King Charles the Seaventh made when he

conquered the realme of Naples. After that raunsome payde, shee was

conveyed into Fraunce with small honor, which with so great triumph and

honorable enterteynment was with pompe above all pride receyved into

this realme xxvii. yeres before. And where in the begynning of her tyme

she lyved lyke a queene; in the middle shee ruled like an empresse;

towards the ende she was vexed with trouble, never quyet nor in peace.

And in her very extreme age she passed her dayes in Fraunce, more like

death than lyfe, languishing and mourning in continuall sorow, not so

much for herselfe and her husbande, whose ages were almost consumed and

worne, but for the losse of Prince Edwarde, her sonne, whome shee and

her husbande thought to have bothe overlyver of their progeny, and also

of their kingdome, to whome in thys lyfe nothing could be more

displeasant or grievous.”

Of the ancient lords of the manor of Tewkesbury we have given a brief

account in tracing the descent of that honor; but in a future portion of

the work, the “doings and sufferings” of the De Clares and the Le

Despensers, with various biographical anecdotes, will be introduced. In

the meantime, we take leave of this venerable Abbey--every feature of

which is eloquent of the past--with a legend which, as connected with

its founder, Robert Fitz-Hamon, has often been told and listened to in

these very <g>Cloisters</g>, and with that implicit belief which nothing but

the revival of miracles and monachism can restore! These apartments are

now laid open to the blast; and over the grave of the beadsman “the

stones of the sanctuary” are piled in mouldering heaps. Through the

fretted shrines and casements, the March winds are now whistling a cold

and shrill matin. The labourer has paused from his toil to discuss the

merits of the New Parliament, the Gloucester Railway, and the Corn Laws!

Shade of Fitz-Hamon, beholdest thou this!

[Illustration]

<g>Legend.</g>--“On the day preceding his death in the New Forest, King Rufus

had a dream, and behold he felt as if grievously wounded by a javelin,

and that forthwith there gushed a stream of blood which reached even to

the sky, cast its shadows over the sun, and diminished the very light of

day. Starting from his sleep, the king invoked the name of the Blessed

Virgin, and calling for lights, ordered his chamberlains to stay by him,

and so passed the remainder of the night wide awake, being sorely

troubled with the vision.

“But in the morning very early, a monk from beyond seas, who was then in

attendance upon the king for certain affairs of the church, beckoning to

<g>Robert Fitz-Hamon</g>, a man of great weight and influence about the king,

said unto him that his rest had been troubled with a frightful dream,

which he thus related:--‘As I lay on my pallet in sound sleep, methought

I saw the king enter a certain church with a proud step and haughty

demeanour, as is his wont, and shewing his contempt for those who were

there gathered around him. Anon, seizing the crucifix with his teeth,

he gnawed off its arms (brachia illius corrosit), and left it hardly a

limb to stand upon. Now, when the crucifix had quietly borne with this

horrible treatment for some time, at length, provoked beyond sufferance,

and drawing back its right foot into a kicking attitude, it spurned the

king’s person with such terrific strength that he fell prostrate on the

pavement; and there, issuing from his mouth as he lay insensible, I

beheld a flame widely diffused around me, and a cloud of smoke, like

chaos, rising towards the sky.”

When the monk had thus related the terrific vision, Fitz-Hamon rehearsed

it to the king, who, bursting into a loud incredulous fit of laughter,

exclaimed “A monk, a monk! who for his own lucre hath dreamt a monkish

dream. Give the friar a hundred shillings, that he may see that he has

dreamt to some purpose.” But these signs and wonders were not yet over.

The king himself had another dream within a few hours of his death.

There appeared unto him a Child of surpassing beauty standing at a

certain altar, whereupon the king, unable to overcome a strong

propensity which he felt to taste the infant’s flesh, went up to it, and

took a mouthful of the flesh, which was so remarkably sweet that he

would have greedily devoured the whole body. But the Child putting on a

stern and forbidding aspect, said to him in a threatening tone,

“Forbear! thou hast already had too much!” Hereupon the king suddenly

wakening, consulted a certain bishop as to the interpretation of this

strange vision. The bishop suspecting that some fearful retribution was

at hand, said to him, “Forbear, O king, to persecute the Church as

hitherto; for in this dream behold the warning voice and paternal

admonition of God, and go not forth to hunt this day as thou hast

purposed.”

But the king, despising this ghostly counsel, went forth into the forest

to commence his sport; when lo, as a mighty stag passed before him, he

called out to the attendant, Walter Tyrrell, who stood near, “Draw,

devil, draw!” Tyrrell instantly drew and let fly his arrow, but instead

of hitting the stag, it glanced against a tree and struck the king in

the heart. Thus was there a fearful confirmation of all the omens which

had haunted the king’s pavilion the preceding night.

But without the following particulars, gravely related by the same

author--Matthew of Saint Albans--the picture would be incomplete.

All the king’s followers having fled in alarm at this terrible accident,

the dead body was removed from the spot where it lay by a char-burner,

but so unaccountably heavy was the load, that the car broke down under

it, and it was again left unattended in the depths of the forest. Here,

however, a certain count having lost his companions in the chase, beheld

to his utter amazement a huge, black, bristly stag carrying off the

king’s body; whereupon he halted and adjured the stag by the Holy

Trinity to declare what this fearful sight meant. “I am carrying your

king,” said the stag, “even the tyrant William Rufus, the enemy of the

Church, to the bar of judgment!”

For the sake of those who are curious in such matters we add the

original Latin,[190] by which it appears the “stag was no other than the

‘foul Fiend!’”

AUTHORITIES:--Malmesbury.--Dugdale, Monasticon.--Dyde, History and

Antiquities of Tewkesbury.--Atkyns.--Mitred Abbeys.--Willis’s

Cathedrals.--Saxon History.--Robert of Gloster.--History of the

Clares.--Notes on Magna Charta.--Leland.--Dugdale,

Baronage.--Tyrrel.--Wars of York and Lancaster.--MS. Hist. of the

Abbey.--Dallaway.--Analogies of Cathedral Churches.--History of

Gloucester.--Margaret of Anjou.--Drayton.--Domesday Survey.--Matth.

Par.--Ord. Vital.--Fabyan.--Speed.--Sepulch. Antiquit.--Hist. Civil

War.--Hist. Church,.--&c. &c. &c.

[Illustration: KENILWORTH CASTLE.]

[Illustration]