These men were guilty of the most daring acts
of shameless sacrilege, the grossest robbery. With them nothing was
sacred. Buildings consecrated to God, holy vessels used in His
service, all the works of sacred art, the offerings of countless pious
benefactors were deemed as mere profane things to be seized and
polluted by their sacrilegious hands. The land was full of the most
beautiful gems of architectural art, the monastic churches. We can
tell something of their glories from those which were happily spared
and converted into cathderals or parish churches. Ely, Peterborough
the pride of the Fenlands, Chester, Gloucester, Bristol, Westminster,
St. Albans, Beverley, and some others proclaim the grandeur of
hundreds of other magnificent structures which have been shorn of
their leaden roofs, used as quarries for building-stone, entirely
removed and obliterated, or left as pitiable ruins which still look
beautiful in their decay. Reading, Tintern, Glastonbury, Fountains,
and a host of others all tell the same story of pitiless iconoclasm.
And what became of the contents of these churches? The contents
usually went with the fabric to the spoliators. The halls of
country-houses were hung with altar-cloths; tables and beds were
quilted with copes; knights and squires drank their claret out of
chalices and watered their horses in marble coffins.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255