cheerfully and thankfully paid to their good priest from the produce of the soil seemed to bring a blessing on their agricultural labours. Little alteration was made in the internal arrangements of the church, beyond a few occasional gifts of more seemly decoration. A quaintly-carved representation in stone of the Virgin and Child within a Vesica Piscis was placed over the doorway in the south wall of the nave, and figures of the Crucifixion and of several saints were built into the chancel-wall. A new altar of stone, marked with five crosses, and with the characteristic Norman ornaments, was erected and consecrated with due form. A screen of wood was placed in the chancel arch to divide the people from the Throne of the adorable Mysteries.

CHAPTER II. THE MONASTERY.

IN the year of Grace 1235, Sir Aubrey de Kynastone, a renowned warrior, and a confidential counsellor of King Henry III., was presented by his Sovereign, for his service in the wars, with a mighty lordship, comprising Letherton and all the surrounding domain as far as the eye could reach. It was then a wild uncultivated tract of forest and fen, producing little beyond noble timber trees, and pasturage for deer, cattle, and abundance of game. There were, however, in these wild woodlands, which were seldom penetrated by the foot of man, a large Abbey, and more than one dependent priory, or smaller religious house, each maintaining around its walls a colony of agriculturists and foresters, the vassals of the monks and their superiors, whose lands, possessions, and rights were preserved strictly inviolate in the King's grant to Sir Aubrey. The Abbey was even then of very great antiquity; but it had been destroyed by the Danes, and entirely refounded towards the close of the eleventh century, so that no part of the original building remained. Though the new lord of

the manor had no power to interfere with or in any way molest the Religious within his vast domain, yet, as it was manifestly to their interest to find in him a kind patron and protector against aggressions from other quarters, they naturally awaited with some anxiety the development of his feelings and disposition towards them. Happily they had no cause for apprehension. Sir Aubrey, though a stern old baron, whose hands and sword had been imbrued in many a hard-fought battle, and who had borne the fatigues of the long and laborious third Crusade, was a strict and conscientious churchman, far more desirous to benefit than to molest any ecclesiastical institution. At the age of sixty-five, when he first bethought himself of repose from a life of turmoil and danger, he had placed himself entirely under the spiritual governance of his venerable capellanus, who had held a chantry endowed by the Kynastone family, and now desired to follow his lord to his new place of abode. Gulielmus de Bardwell was the name of this priest; and the first step taken by Sir Aubrey was to send his chaplain to have an interview with the Lord Abbat of Wardley, in whose patronage was vested the church at Letherton, though the tithes were not impropriated, as in other cases, to the monastery, with the condition that it should provide a priest at a certain annual stipend. It was Sir Aubrey's wish to have

his own chaplain appointed to the rectory on the first vacancy; for, as he observed, the then rector, John de Beauchamp, was getting an old and infirm man; though in truth there was very little difference in age between the baron and the priest.

So William de Bardwell departed on his mission a few weeks before the arrival of Sir Aubrey at Letherton, to negotiate some preliminary matters respecting tithe and vassalage, as well as to convey the professions of duty and respect from his lord. He travelled on a mule, attended by a guide and three stout servants of Sir Aubrey's household; and he arrived at Wardley on the night of the fifth day. The monastery was about a day's journey to the south of Letherton; so he had resolved to sojourn with the monks till he had transacted his business.

It was a glorious sight, on emerging from a forest-path on the brow of a hill, to look down on that grey abbey. The moon shone clear and bright upon the dense mass of foliage which filled the valley beneath, and embosomed the monastery in its peaceful seclusion. The lofty towers of the church, with their tall wooden spires, covered with leaden plates, glistened in the pale light, and reflected back the beam as it played and lingered on the hallowed walls. The great bell Gabriel, brought from over the seas by a benefactor of the abbey, and consecrated by the hand of Pope

Innocent III., was tolling for matins, or midnight prayers; and softly did its silver sound steal over the entranced ear of the watchful and timid inhabitants of the vale. For the lonely forest glades had an ill name among the simple and credulous people; but the deep tone of that mighty bell was well known to all as a charm against storms and lightnings, conflagrations, meteors, and every evil influence of the powers of the air. No one failed to cross himself and say Pater noster at its heavenly note. It was the consolation and assurance against the perils of the night. How beautiful, how holy was the scene, and how unlike anything that we now behold! The shadowy buttress and spiry pinnacle stood forth in dark relief as the light of the tapers within the church streamed through the stained windows of the choir. Soon there came forth from the cloister a long procession of vested monks, headed by the Abbat, with torches and a fair silver cross. they slowly ascended a pathway to the door of the church, their voices could faintly be heard chaunting a Latin hymn. The priest proceeded to the gate of the abbey, when the service had commenced, in which he had arrived too late to join, and was admitted with much respect and a hearty "Save your reverence," by the keeper of the portal. Refreshments and lodgings for the night were most freely and kindly bestowed; nor did the

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