the middle of last century. On the dais, raised two steps above the rest of the Hall, the Abbot, and afterwards his successor the Dean, had his place of honour; the ancient oak tables are supposed to have been made out of the wrecks of the Spanish Armada, and undoubtedly date from Elizabeth's reign, when the newly founded Queen's scholars used to dine with the Dean and Prebendaries. A small door in the corner admits us, by a passage-way, into the Jerusalem Chamber, but here we look round in vain for traces of our friend Litlington, for the room has been so modernised and restored that practically only the cedar wood and the architectural details belong to his time. More fragments of ancient glass, dating from the fourteenth to the sixteenth centuries, {137} remind us that once not only these but the church windows were filled with painted glass, most of which was destroyed by the early Protestants, and all that was left was broken by the Puritans. The tapestry was brought here from the choir and from the great school in 1821, when the Chamber was restored. The tiles and fireplace were added in Queen Victoria's reign, while the overmantel was put up by Dean Williams, to commemorate the marriage of Charles I. to Henrietta Maria--on either side are grotesque heads of the bride and bridegroom; Williams entertained the French Ambassador at a banquet in this room while the negotiations were proceeding. Dean Stanley placed the busts of Henry IV. and Henry V. against the wall, and thus all who visit this historic chamber are reminded that a king died on the spot before the hearth where we now stand. Shakespeare has made the scene of Henry the Fourth's death very familiar, and we remember the King's words when he recovered consciousness after his swoon. Henry was taken ill when praying at St. Edward's shrine, before starting for the Holy Land; the dying man asked the name of the room into which he was carried from the church, and receiving the reply "Hierusalem," he broke out into thanksgiving:-- {138} Laud be to God! even there my life must end. It hath been prophesied to me many years I should not die but in Jerusalem; Which vainly I suppos'd the Holy Land. But bear me to that chamber; there I'll lie; In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. * * * * * * [Illustration: The Abbot's Courtyard and the Entrance to the Jerusalem Chamber] * * * * THE ABBOT'S COURTYARD AND THE ENTRANCE TO THE JERUSALEM CHAMBER