Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1873-12-09
For the Spectator.
WESTMINSTER ABBEY!
FROM NOTES ABROAD.

| The most hallowed place, the most sacred
spot, TO the heart of every true American; tha
devoted shrine at which the faithful IraDsat
| lantic pilgrim first kneels; the time honored
the traditional, the true Mecca 20 which b.
hsstens, not with wearied step and slow =
what is it, and where is it, in all the British isles
| Surely it is not necessary that | should ever
pause moment but in the same breath tha
| asks the question also comes the answer iron
every loyal English heart, from every tongue
that speaks our mother language. That pane
so dear, SO well known to all Westmnlste
Abbey The simple mention of this venera
| Bile name calls up host of associations ACC
| awakens world Of heart echoes, still sound
| ing - the chambers of memory. This impo-
sing, tately and beautiful pile that had sc
! often rod of and seen in my dreams long be-
Z fore mysyes of flesh beheld it 10 all its archi-
II tectural aagniGcence, its wealth OF antiquity,
and the sblime grandeur of its history will fill
at least one niche in memory hall until time
shall crumble' nto dust each and every tene-
ment of mortaclay.
| j cannot weiconceive of apy purer intellec.
tual pleasure, O any more refned or cultivated
source OF recreation for an American to indulge,
than when in thughtful mood, land the place
| awakens grand thoughts, deep reflections, pro-
found meditatlors. and with appreciative taste,
he wanders for tae first time beneath that fret
| ted root, within those sacred walls and through
those stofied aisles, amid all that greatness oi
acts and deeds, and names so old in story,
whose earliest impress was made upon our
minds, through jinglng rhymes In our nursery
times And these early impressions became a
part of US, clinging to Us until, after the lapse
Of years, In our good fortune, some of us have
stood within this grand Mausoleum of Eng
land S illustrious dead. And if there was any
,,looo Iaaror hox fho vu1o e;lapt h,yt
eloquent tongue spoke to US of the glorious
past-it was the Poets Corner, where those
gentle spirits bade US linger the longest. Those
manly statues, those busts with well poised
heads. with intellect stamped upon every mar
BILE feature, the mural inscriptions and all that
relates to their quiet dust, that tells of their
tame, are nobler, prouder trophies by far, than
all the tattered banners, the dusty plumes, the
rusty arrnor from the most ensanguned and
victorious battle-felds, that the valorous arms
of old England have ever won with the sacrifice
of human blood. Westminster Abbey cannot
fail to interest Americans. They feel and claim
share and interest In every atom OF Its con-
secrated dust, and often you may see them with
uncovered heads, treading, with reverential
steps, among the narrow, silent homes of their
fore fathers. To an American mind and heart,
given to quiet reflection and deep feeling, visit
to this time-honored and sacred old Abbey
arouses a train of thought not once INDUCED
elsewhere, In all his sightseeing, though he
may have roamed far and wide through this
great world, seeking its wonders and every OBJ
ject of interest it might present to his admlrlng
gaze Not the hoary tombs of the Pbafoahs
and the 100 gated cities of the Nile. Not the
Acropolis and the Parthenon, the plains of
Marathon, the pass of Thermopyle. thrilling
as they are with heroic and patriotic emotion.
Not the Forum and the Colosseum, and the
triumphant arches of Rome Mo- none Of
these could interest him SO much, or summon
those pure and ennobling thoughts that would
old Westminster Abbey.
While on visit to the great English me-
tropolis [ would often spend hours walking
about in the Abbey 1t was source of much
sober recreation and sad pleasure to stroll
through the various chapels of The dead Kings
and Queens that had once been crowned within
its walls. and then ruled over thar mighty ma
ton, and finally, alter life ftful, feyered
dream was past. they were laid here in their
mortal dust. ashes, and clay. to await the COM
mands of the king of Kings" Surely the
place teaches us very many lessons OF the fleet
ing and transient nature of earthly greatness
and power Here quietly repose the monlder-
ing remains of great and honored men and
women, whose names are written high up on
the roll of fame' whose noble deeds in every
sphere and relation Of human life, have lllu-
mined many proud pages in their country 8
history And with what glorious wealth of
intellect is that nation endowed, which. after
centuries of immortal names already enshrined
there, has had The proud although the most
melancholy, honor of adding in one decade
scarcely more than ten years-the DameS Of
Macaulay and Grote, Dickens, Thackery, and
Lytton While these honored names these
gifted ones were not our couniYymen, yet they
are our contemporaries and We feel that we have
some claim at least, TO portion of their glory,
as never-fadiug illustrations of our common
language. And SO long as We enjoy those un-
rivaled masterpieces of their genius as none
others can, Americans and Engllshmen can
never be quite foreigners to each other, though
broad ocean may roll between US and three
thousand miles may part US. 1t was at
such shrine, with its myriad of balowed as
sociations, aud all the grand and sacred ties
and VOWS that its past worshippers have left
to their posterity, that we determined to re-
new and forever keep pure and untarnlshed.
that blood that once flowed 10 the veins Of our
ancestors
The antiquity Of the Abbey is very great it
is snpposed to have been founded by King
SeberC Ia the sixth century and was one of
the earliest works Of the first converts to chris
tianity ia Britain, and until the reign Of Ed
ward the Confessor, il remained monument
of the sacriigeous fury of the times but by
the prevailing influence Of Christianity in that
reign. the ruins OF the ancient building were
cleared away, and most magnificent struc-
ture for that age, erected IN their place. In
its form it bore the figure of cross, which
afterwards became pattern TOR cathedral
building throughout the kingdom. Henry III
not only pulled down and enlarged the plan of
this ancient Abbey but added Chapel which
he dedicated to the Blessed Virgin; but it was
not until the reign of the Henry VII that the
stately and magnificent Chapel now known by
his name was planned and executed. Of this
Chapel, the first stone was laid on the 24th OF
January, 1902, and when completed was dedl-
Gated, like the former Chapel, to the Blessed
Virein. Henry, desiring this as q burying-
place for himself and successors, expressly en-
ioiped by his will. that none but those of the
blood-f oyal should be iohumed therein. From
the death OF Henry VII till the reign of Will
liam and Mary, no care was taken to repair OF
nreserye the ancient church By the robberies
made upon it by Henry VII, and the ravage;
it sustained during the unhappy civil commo-
lions. its ancient beauty was in great meas
ure destroyed; nor did their Majesties &C
about to restore it, till it became an object OF
parliamentary attention, and till consldera
ble sum was voted for that purpose only. This
vote being passed, Sir Christopher Wren was
amnloyed to decorate it and give it thorough
renair. which that able architect SO skillfully
and faithfully executed, that the building is
thought at this day TO want none OF its orlgl-
nal strength. aud to have acquired even addl-