The east wall was falling, and in 1849 was rebuilt, and a stained window by Warrington inserted, given by the late Lord Clinton. It represents St. Morwenna teaching Editha, daughter of Ethelwolf,[18] between St. Peter and St. Paul. The window is very poor and coarse in drawing and in colour. The ancient piscina in the wall is of early English date. Mr. Hawker discovered under the pavement in the church, when reseating it, the base of a small pillar, Norman in style, with a hole in it for a rivet which attached to it the slender column it supported. This he supposed was a piscina drain, and accordingly set it up in the recess beside his altar. Mr. Hawker used an old stable, very decayed, on the north side of the chancel, as his vestry, and descended by a stair from it to the church. Floor and roof and stair are now in the last stage of decay. His altar was of wood, and low. He had on it a clumsy wooden cross, without figure, vases with bouquets of flowers, and two Cornish serpentine candlesticks. There was an embroidered frontal on his altar, given him in 1843, and used for all seasons alike. Considering the veneration in which Mr. Hawker held holy things and places, a little more tidiness might have been expected; but his altar was never very clean, the top having strewn over it the burnt ends of matches with which he had lighted his candles. It had also on it a large magnifying glass, like those often on drawing-room tables, to assist in the examination of photographs. For a long time Mr. Hawker used to say matins, litany and communion service standing at his altar; but in later years his curates introduced a reading-desk within the chancel near the screen. A deal kitchen-table likewise served for the furnishing of the chancel. On this he would put his mufflers and devotional books. The untidy condition of the church affected one of his curates, a man of a somewhat domineering character, to such an extent that one day he swept up all the rubbish he could find in the church, old decorations of the previous Christmas, decayed southernwood and roses of the foregoing midsummer festivity, pages of old Bibles, prayer-books and manuscript scraps of poetry, match-ends, candle-ends, etc.; and, having filled a barrow with all these sundries, he wheeled it down to the vicarage door, rang the bell, and asked for Mr. Hawker. The vicar came into the porch. “This is the rubbish I have found in your church.” “Not all,” said Mr. Hawker. “Complete the pile by seating yourself on the top, and I will see to the whole being shot speedily.” In the chancel is a vine, carved in wood, which creeps thence all along the church—an emblem, according to him, of the Christian life.