This Abbey of Oseney, which had been founded by Robert D'Oilgi in 1129, and rebuilt in 1247, was, like St. Frideswide's, a house of Augustinian Canons, but far larger. It was, indeed, one of the finest abbeys in England, its principal cloister being as large as Tom Quad, and its church no less than 352 feet by 100, with double aisles, and twenty-four altars. Gardens and courts, and comely outbuildings, ran along the side of the river; in every corner a busy life went on among the orieled windows and high-pitched roofs, within the fretted cloister, the schools and libraries, the refectory, and the kitchen, whither a conduit brought the water from the river side. A great gate looked on to the high road; and the abbot's lodgings were so spacious that six men could walk abreast up the steps which led into his hall. Yet others were not forgotten; besides the guest-house, there was a building reserved for poor clerks. But Henry's mania for destruction could not let the Abbey stand. In 1546 he moved the see to St. Frideswide's, reconstituting the old Priory, which Wolsey had turned into a college, as both college and cathedral. The doom of Oseney was pronounced, and in that year the demolition began. In 1566 Agar's map represents Oseney Abbey as still standing, but roofless; in 1644 a good deal remained, but Charles I. used the greater part to complete the fortifications of Oxford against the Cromwellians; in 1718 the abbot's chamber and the great stone staircase were all that was left. In Dr. Johnson's time a few ruins could still be seen, of which the great man said (at a time when such sentiments were uncommon)--"Sir, to look upon them fills me with indignation." At the present day the remains are almost invisible; they consist of a portion of a building attached to the mill, a fragment of the foundations of the gateway at the end of the same building, a small portion of the wall near the great gate, a few loose fragments of masonry, and some encaustic tiles. Bishop King's window in the cathedral gives one a vague reminder of its former aspect; and only the bells, which were transferred to Christ Church, remain intact. Thus perished the first cathedral church of the see of Oxford. Of it there now remains no memory Nor any little monument to see; By which the traveller that fares that way, That once she was may warned be to say.