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Priory Remains-Present State of the Church—The Vicarage—
The Terrier.

WE

E are now brought, by the progress of our history, to notice what has justly been denominated the glory of modern Worksop-its Abbey Church; and this, without claiming for it the extravagant praise of a modern writer, as "striking the beholder with an impression equal to Westminster Abbey," may, nevertheless, be considered as an object no less of interest than of admiration. Previously, however, to entering into the more minute details connected with the fabric, it may not be improper to devote some attention to the present state of the conventual remains with which it is connected.

To a visitor in the town, the most direct, as well as the most interesting approach to the church, is by Potter Street; at the bottom of which, and opposite the Abbey gateway, stands the shaft of the old cross, elevated on a conical series of steps, and probably occupying the site of

one of the "cruces quas Willielmus de Lovetot pater meus, & Ricardus de Luvetot arus meus propriis manibus crexerunt."* On this, as well as on some other accounts, this fragment is not without its interest to the man of reflection; it was most probably hereabouts that the fair and market, granted to one of the De Furnivals, was anciently held, being convenient for the monks, who, on several accounts, were very fond of fairs. It was, moreover, usually considered, that the presence of so sacred a symbol in such places, might tend to enforce fairness and equity among buyers and sellers, and hence we frequently find them at this day in our market-places, where they were placed previous to the Reformation. The boundaries of estates were likewise indicated by crosses; and, in the Chronicles of Welbeck Abbey, one of these is expressly mentioned, at Worksop, as a land-mark, antecedently to the above period. During the reign of Elizabeth, the iconoclasts, not confining their rage to images, altars, and shrines, exerted themselves against crosses, which were generally demolished, except the steps, and perhaps a portion of the shaft, which, whether not broken down, or afterwards re-crected, became the more harmless supporter of a sun-dial. Here, likewise, proclamations, concerning the town or the kingdom, used to be made; and from these steps, during the protectorate, banns of marriage were proclaimed by the common crier. That the town-cross of Worksop has been so distinguished, we have express evidence.

The next objects, to which the eye of curiosity most naturally turns, are the venerable fragments of the once magnificent priory-venerable even in their decay; and I may be permitted here to observe, that the impression made upon my feelings and imagination, by the first view of these ruins, can never be forgotten. It was rather late, on a beautiful evening in autumn, when all was still and silent around, and the harvest moon "shed her silvery light o'er tower and tree," that I, and a beloved friend, found ourselves before the ancient gateway of the ruined abbey. Bright as the moon shone, we were on the shadowy side of the building; and, therefore, the objects in front assumed a deeper interest, from the dubious twilight in which we beheld them; while, in consonance with the dingy elevation of the roof, an immense wreath of ivy, growing from the gable to the ground, exhibited the appropriate badge of antiquity. A tranquil, but gloomy solemnity, suited to the dignity of its past history, and its fallen grandeur, seemed to rest upon this portion of the pile, affording a fine contrast to the naked light which illuminated the elegant fragment of arches below: our feelings were in unison with the scene before us, and we indulged in such reflections as our minds naturally suggested, on the striking peculiarities and departed importance of the monastic institution in this country.

"I do love these ancient ruins,

We never tread upon them but we set
Our foot upon some reverend history:
And, questionless, here, in the open court,
Which now lies naked to the injuries
Of stormy weather, some men lie interred,

• Ex Carta Matildis de Lovetot.

Loved the church so well, and gave largely to't;
They thought it should have canopied their bones
Till Doomsday: but all things have their end.
Churches, and cities, (which have diseases like men,)
Must have like death that we have."

Those moments of pleasing companionship, as connected with my first contemplation of this relic, are, it is true, gone for ever; but still the recollection remains: Vale! horam felicem

Καὶ, ἀπὸ τοῦ νῦν, ὑπερβολὴ τῆς εὐδαιμονίας σοὶ ἔστω, φιλτατὴ μου.

Independent of all sentimental associations, this gatehouse is an interesting specimen, not only of the building with which it stood connected, but of the masonry of past times, and conventual architecture in general. The south, or principal front, which is about nineteen yards in extreme breadth, comprising three divisions, and two divisions in height; with a well proportioned pediment over the centre, which is the widest space. For the greater strength of the walls, there are four buttresses, rising nearly to the cornice under the roof; the inner ones have very beautifully enriched niches, with brackets, but no figures. In the centre, is the great arch of entrance, about twelve feet wide, supported by stout clustered columns, resting on a plinth and bases. Over it, in the second division, is a very handsome window, the arch of which is the segment of a circle; and the weather cornice reaches nearly to the springing of the tracery, which is very ornamental. Six mullions divide the space into twenty-four compartments, leaded and glazed. On each side of this window is an ornamental niche, with figures as large as life, both in standing positions. That on the west side, exhibiting a knight armed, in full portraiture, bearing a shield, charged with a lion rampant, for Talbot: the other, on the east side, a similar figure, his shield bearing a bend between six martlets, for Furnival. These figures, although much less perfect than they were when Dodsworth copied the cognizances just mentioned, are still, notwithstanding the perishable nature of the material, and their exposure, for centuries, to the weather, in a very superior state of preservation to the monuments of the ancient lords, although the latter were wrought in alabaster, and sheltered in the church. The pediment likewise contains a niche, with a superb canopy of tabernacle work, under which is a figure, in a sitting posture, and a small circular window over it. The passage through the building, which is about fifteen yards,—and this determines its extent in that direction,-has for its ceiling the boards of the floor of the room above, curiously traversed, and supported by ribs of oak.

On the right hand of the arch of entrance, or easternmost division of the gateway, is the porch, a projection nearly square, and rising about two-thirds the height of the whole front. This elegant appendage more particularly claims our attention, as it is believed to be the only instance in the kingdom, of so magnificent and highly decorated an entrance attached to a gateway. The mutilated remains of its delicate buttresses, canopies, pinnacles, and ornaments, entitle it to the highest praise, while its graceful proportion, and beautiful execution, surpass our admiration. A

great novelty here observable is, that the entrance is not in the front of the porch, but by a door on each side, over each of which are two tiers of niches with ornamental canopies, the lower containing figures, that on the east front the salutation of the Virgin Mary. The front of the porch is occupied by one large window; the proportion of the arch is nearly that of a triangle, generally considered the most elegant: it originally contained very beautiful tracery, which is now diminished to a few fragments, and the space boarded up. Over this, in the desolated pediment, is a basso relievo, and two grotesque projecting figures. The whole porch was originally surmounted by a handsome parapet, which is now destroyed to a single stone, which being fast, and of great weight, has defied the hand of wilful spoliation, that has produced such general havock upon the whole.*

On entering to ascend the lofty stone staircase, we behold a most magnificent and highlywrought niche and canopy, the bracket remaining, but the figure gone. The roof of the porch is very ornamental, consisting of stout ribs cut into a variety of mouldings, with a boss, or knot of leaves and flowers at each intersection. Among the rubbish which time and destruction have accumulated on the outside of the roof, a pretty large sycamore-tree has taken root, and at the period of my last summer visit, presented a pleasing contrast by its cheerful green appearance upon the dingy aspect of the gateway front.

By the proportions, ornaments, and particularly the shape of the arches, canopies, &c., this erection is thought to refer itself to a date as early as Edward III. or that immediately following.

A writer in the Gentleman's Magazine, (Dec. 1813,) who recommends, as worthy of attention, these "remains of a once magnificent and extensive assemblage of buildings," observes, “While making my memoranda of this beautiful gateway, I had the mortification to see a number of boys amusing themselves, by climbing between the mullions of the windows, and mischievously destroying the parapet of the porch, by throwing down the stones."

This appears to have brought the abbey into notice. A second correspondent to this rich repository of antiquarian lore, bears a similar, but more elaborate testimony. "I cannot," says he, “suppress my feelings of indignation, when an eye-witness to these scenes of wanton mischief, and I am unable, by arguments on the spot, to stop its progress. No expostulations of mine could induce the juvenile destroyers to quit the roof of the porch which adorns the gateway, and is the entrance to the rooms above. Among other ornaments, which are destined to suffer from their situation, is a basso relievo in front, under the ruined pediment, containing three or four figures, much injured by time and violence, and every effort was made to separate the stones. From such frequent practices, it is painful to remark, that but one stone now remains of the ornamental parapet of the side walls, to convey a design of what the whole was originally. Other equally fatal instances of destruction might here be produced; but it is

hoped that these mentioned will be sufficient to excite the strenuous exertions of some few individuals, who may have the influence necessary to rescue from total destruction these proud remains of former grandeur; and, by a timely and well guided exertion, prevent the farther demolition of buildings, that have subsisted, and been the admiration, of ages."— Gents. Mag. August, 1814.

These seasonable and just animadversions were not without their effect, in arousing the attention of the few persons who could appreciate the worth of these venerable remains. The Duke of Norfolk liberally set about the work, upon which he expended £200, besides £50 more, given by his coadjutor, in this, as in other improvements, F. F. Foljambe, Esq.; so that a third correspondent to the above work writes, that, “passing through Worksop, he was glad to find that the whole had undergone a thorough and substantial repair. Great labour had been bestowed to clear the ornaments of the whole, particularly the beautiful and unrivalled porch; and no reparations had taken place, which were not consistent with the old work, except the roof, which is covered with common house tiling." He then suggests a restoration of the tracery and the mullions, the original character of which, he justly observes, might be collected from the original fragments.—Gents. Mag. Sep tember, 1814.

Its decorations accord with many distributed about the other parts of the building, though, doubtless, the walls and buttresses of the gateway are of an earlier period; the window in the pediment in the east end, when compared with those in front, and contrasted with the light and elegant niches, argue distinct styles, while the great arch, and the capitals which support it, agree with neither in character. Indeed, the alterations appear to have been numerous, the porch itself was no part of the original design, being evidently an after-thought, but it is now unquestionably the chief object of admiration, and contributes so materially by its beauty, to render the effect of the whole imposingly grand.

Immediately adjoining the east end of the gatehouse, an iron railing fences the southern boundary of the churchyard, the only ingress to which, is by a pair of light iron gates, which, when there are no services, are very commendably kept locked. The burial ground, which, although containing 3 roods 30 perches, appears to be too small for the parish, is well enclosed,* and contains, besides others, a great number of painted headstones; but these being all placed facing the east, and as there is no road on that side of the churchyard, the pleasing effect of their general appearance is quite lost to those who can only pursue the usual path by the western wall. The stones exhibit the usual specimens of epitaphic poetry, but none of them sufficiently good or bad to justify transcription: the following may be acceptable, as of the middling class:

On a railed tomb, near the entrance of the churchyard, erected to the memory of William Skynner, gent., of Cowbridge, Glamorganshire, there is the following inscription:—

What, though no flattering eulogy profanes

His shrine; or sculptured marble courts the eye;

Enough this simple record still contains,

To wake affection's tear, or friendship's sigh.

A headstone, nearer the church, exhibits the following effusion of parental tenderness:

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