Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1885-06-27
THE ROOF OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY.
The Elaborate Stone Work In Henry Wis
Chapel Strange Abode fer Pigeons
and CAS-.

henry v IL s. LEL2A MARKS great
break in English history. 1t is the
close of the middle ages. And the alb
hey tells US the story of this break in
a strangely vivid and emphatic fash
ion. AS you walk up the wide flight
of steps beyond the cOnfessor's chapel
at the extreme east Of the abbey, you
find yourself in a new world. The
4 grave, stately, medieval church is
left behind. And, entering Henry
/ VII. s matchless chapel, a sense of
/ fervOr and richness in the architecture
1 seizes on YOU. Your eye feasts on the
bayed windows with their innumerable
little diamond panes, the traceries and
holdings on the Walis-nOt q foot left
unwrOught-th the inches with figures of
saints and martyr, the grand bronze
/ gates with their Tudor arms, the rose
I and pOrtcullis, the falcon and fette-
/ lock, the rich hardwood carvings of
the stalls with banners of the knights
of the Bath hanging mOtiOnless above
each; and then the roof that marvellous
stone cObWeb, with its bosses. cary
iugs, and cOats-Of-arms, its Vaulungs
/ springing from the slenderest pillars
imaginable, like graceful palm stems,
and spreading out into the exquisite
fan-tracery that covers the whole
I network Of stone lace. Those prodig-
Gus pendants of stone, richly carved
over their whole surface, which hang
poised alOft in airy splendOr, may well
/ Ill the minds with wonder almost
akin to terror. How do they hold to-
getherP How has the cunning of man
been able to counterfeit the force of
/ graVityP What keeps them from fall
/ ing on us as we stand gazing up at the
stone miracle and grinding us to DOW
/ der? Not only we, but many wise
/ architects have marveled at that
/ prodigy of art, at the daring hardi-
hood % which keyed that roof together,
/ every block depending on the next,
and the whole structure cOhering by
the perfection OF each minutest part
The very richness of the work, the
seeming lavish tracery, the perforated
ornaments behind the spring OF the
main arches, all help to weld it into
one abiding whole. 1t is q fit type OF
the noble strength of perfect unity.
For. so say the masOns, if one stone
were to 1al, the whole roof would
/ collapse.
Nothing gives one a Just idea of the
awful weight of stone in that roof I'M
til one has climbed above it. Would
that L could take you, my readers, as
] have taken more than one American
child, for a wander about the roofs Of
the abbey. 1t is a world within a world.
Do not fancy it is all dark and dirty
and terrific. Not at all. 1 know few
more charming excursions. A little
door in the corner of the north
transept lets US into a turret staircase.
Up and up it winds, round the solid.
smooth shaft of stone, till we reach
the trifOrium. This is the row of dOub-
i, A,sae1iI baadnI hos III
around the abbey above the great pier
arches. From below you think, how
frightful to be up on atnarrOw ledge,
clinging to the wall. But when YOU
get up to it you find it anything but a
narrow ledge. 1t is a grand gallery,
twenty feet wide and large enough TO
drive a coach and four horses along it,
lighted at many points by rOse-win-
dOws in the outer walls. The double
arches and slender pillars which look
so beautiful from the ground air Just
as inteI esting when seen close. Hardly
two of them are alike. The builders
of those days did their work in no
grudging spirit, but laVished fresh de-
signs upon every yard.
1t IS a strange sensation ND alOfG in
this wide gallery, looking down
sheer sixty feet into the grand abbey,
peeping at the stalls of the cnOir, peer
ing down the pipes of the organ,
watching the people wandering like
flies over the pavement below US. But
the strangest experience of all is such
an excursion as L am describing at
night. One such wandering is espec-
tally impressed on my memory. Some
American friends were with us; and
lighted by our little lantern we thread
ed our way through the darkness,
through the solemn stiffness of the
wonderful building, and came out into
the trifOrium. Then suddenly three
or four clear, rich voices. one of which
is we'll known to all who frequent the
services at Westminster, came floating
up from the gulf Of gloom beneath
us, singing;
Lift III ne eyes, Oil lift thine eyes to the
mountains, whence cOmeth help.
do not think any one of us will ever
forget the startling, OVerpOwering eff
feet, or listen again TO Mendelssohn's
trio without a thrill.
But we must go on. In only one
place is the way perilOus-just under
the great window IN the north tran
sept, for there the passage does mar
row to a ledge; and the clerk of the
works, who always accompanies these
wanderings IN high places, bids the
untried hands be careful Once past
the window all is plain sailing again.
We make our way round. above the
cOnfessOr's chapel, and see his coffin
lying in his shrine. We pass great
rooms where all sorts of debris from
the building are kept old oaken
chars, bits OF stone carving, parapher-
MALTA for the coronation or for any
great ceremony. We walk under the
painted glass windows that we have
watched, shining like Jewels, at the
end of the apse, when we are at ser
vice in the choir. Then comes another
door, another narrow stair, and we
find ourselves in the strangest place Of