may have warned the monks of Peterborough to see that the disaster was not repeated here. This alteration must have been made, judging by the details of the architecture, in the second quarter of the century. Above the lantern was a wooden octagon. The views that are given of this hardly warrant the admiration that has been sometimes expressed, or the regrets that have been uttered at its removal. It may have been designed to carry a wooden spire, such as was afterwards erected on the bell-tower. But most will agree with the criticism that it was "a low and unsightly structure." It hardly rose more than eight or ten feet above the top of the lantern, and the whole height of the central tower, including the octagon, was less than the height of the south-western spire of the front.

To this century belongs the transformation of the triforium windows all through the nave and choir. Parapets were at the same time added above the Norman corbel tables. The change effected in the apse was the most noticeable; not only were the two upper tiers of Norman windows replaced by Decorated ones of larger size, but the three lowest ones in the centre were altogether removed, and their place taken by lofty archways, when the new building was built. But we can judge of their appearance from the two side windows which still remain; these, being not now external, have had all the glass removed; but the mullions and tracery are perfect, and even the iron-bars across are still there. At the inner surface of the wall the five lower windows have very good hanging tracery, of different designs.

The south-western spire of the west front is also of this period, probably a little earlier in date than the lantern. This is of very remarkable beauty, and very much more elegant than the corresponding spire to the north. The triangular section of the pinnacles at the base of the spire, the crockets with which they are enriched, and the open canopies around, combine to produce a most graceful feature. To the latter years of this century may be assigned the central porch, with room above, inserted between the two middle piers of the west front. Some regard this as a blemish; others as a distinct improvement. One party maintains^[13] that it is "an unsightly encumbrance, in its present position, seeing that it violates the uniformity of design displayed in the west front"; the other party contends^[14] that it is "an extremely judicious insertion, and that it really does, just as if it was intended for that purpose only, restore its proper dignity to the central arch of the facade." It was most likely built as a matter of structural necessity, to secure the stability of the front. From a settlement of the foundations, or from a failure of the two central piers, or from the great weight of masonry above, for there are no western buttresses, the whole must have been in danger of falling. Mr Paley points out that the "construction of this elegant little edifice is extremely scientific, especially in the manner in which the thrust is distributed through the medium of the side turrets so as to fall upon the buttresses in front. These turrets being erected against one side of the triangular columns, on the right and the left hand, support them in two directions at once, viz., from collapsing towards each other, and from falling forward. The latter pressure is thrown wholly upon the buttresses in front, which project seven feet beyond the base of the great pillars." The room above is called by Browne Willis the Consistory Court. It is now used for the Minster Library.

The alterations and additions during the Perpendicular period can be detected at a glance. All the Norman windows which had remained unaltered were now filled with tracery, not of particularly good design; the great west window and the others in the west wall were similarly treated; the conical tops to the transeptal corner turrets were altered into battlements; the screens in the transepts were made, and, probably, the groined wooden ceiling in the choir. The most important addition was the New Building at the east end of the choir. This is often erroneously called the Lady Chapel; but when this edifice was erected the Lady Chapel to the east of the north transept, and for more than 150 years afterwards, was still standing. The new building was begun by Abbot Ashton (1438-1471), and finished by Abbot Kirton (1496-1528). The rebus of each of these abbots can be seen in its decorations: an ash growing out of a tun or barrel, and a church or kirk with a tun.

In 1540 the reign of the abbots came to an end, and in 1541 the church became a cathedral. For a hundred years the church itself, as well as all the buildings attached to it, appear to have remained in their full glory. There is no reason to discredit the account given of the preservation of this church, when so many others were dismantled or sold at the suppression of the monasteries. It was suggested to King Henry VIII, after the interment here of Queen Katharine of Aragon, that it would become his greatness to erect a suitable monument of her in the place where she was buried; and in reply the King said he would leave her one of the goodliest monuments in Christendom, meaning that he would spare the church for her sake. We conclude, however, from what we know of the state of the fabric in the reign of Charles I, that although no buildings may have been demolished, yet the church itself was falling into disrepair. No doubt the diminished resources of the establishment, as well as the numerous demands upon the stipends (never large) of the members of the chapter, most of whom had duties and claims elsewhere besides having families to support, materially reduced the amount that could be annually devoted to the sustentation of the fabric. In the time of the civil war much wanton destruction took place. Nearly everything in the nature of ornamentation or embellishment was destroyed. A full account of the mischief wrought has been preserved. Without particularly naming such things as books, documents, vestments, and the movable ornaments, we find the damage done to the fabric itself was terrible indeed. The organs, "of which there were two pair," were broken down. All the stalls of the choir, the altar rails, and the great brass chandelier, were knocked to pieces. The altar of course did not escape. Of the reredos, or altar-piece, and its destruction, Patrick writes as follows: "Now behind the Communion Table, there stood a curious piece of stone-work, admired much by strangers and travellers; a stately skreen it was, well wrought, painted and gilt, which rose up as high almost as the roof of the church in a row of three lofty spires, with other lesser spires, growing out of each of them, as it is represented in the annexed draught.^[15] This had now no Imagery-work upon it, or anything else that might justly give offence, and yet because it bore