The conversion of this mutable building to military uses involved the taking down of all its former fittings—pews, galleries (of which there were three), etc. The space thus gained resulted in a vast room, 90 feet long by some 36 feet wide, and 24 feet high. A wainscot, about 4 feet high, ran round the wall, and on removing a portion of it at the north-east end of the apartment, a sort of niche or recess in the depth of the wall, which was very thick, disclosed itself, and was clearly, to men acquainted with such appearances, the place where the basin and discharge-pipes of an old fountain had been. It had remained hidden behind the wainscot from the time this had been put up. This was surprise the first; but ‘some time after’ (I will let my correspondent tell the story) ‘the workmen, who were cleaning the walls for recolouring, came to tell me that they had found some old paintings on the walls. On going to look at them, I found that there were just nine life-sized figures representing the Muses. There could be no doubt about this, for the name was painted under each figure—Clio, Euterpe, and so on. These paintings were seen by various people; but they were rather faint and much damaged, and, as the work of redecoration had to go on, they were again coloured over with distemper.’ Now, leaving the region of fact and entering that of speculation, I think that this large apartment, some 90 feet long by 36 feet wide, could not have been the chapel spoken of by various writers.[274] I cannot but think it was the old Pump Room, converted afterwards into a large chapel (with its galleries capable of holding some 1,000 persons). My correspondent adds: ‘Besides its great size, one can hardly imagine that such uncanonical figures as the Muses could ever have been painted on the walls of a chapel, and I am sure that the paintings I saw were as old as the building itself.’ [Illustration: _Assembly and Pump Rooms, Well Walk._]