of the abbots and one of the most striking figures on the
roll was Clement Lichfield. To him we owe much of the architectural
beauty of both the parish churches; and besides erecting the bell
tower he adorned the choir of the "great church," as it was called,
with perpendicular decoration.

THE DISSOLUTION

Philip Hawford cannot be counted on the list of abbots. After having
borne and yielded much, Lichfield resigned, and Hawford was appointed
in his place, merely that he might surrender his charge in due form to
the King, an act to which it was impossible for Abbot Lichfield to
condescend, Hawford afterwards became Dean of Worcester, and there in
the cathedral, in a recess behind the reredos, his effigy may still be
seen, in full abbatial vestments, mitre and staff. Abbot Lichfield was
allowed to retire to the manor house of Offenham, where he died in
1546, and was buried in the lovely chapel he had built in early life
on to the church of All Saints beneath the shelter of his own Abbey.

* * * * *

The story of the Monastery has now come to an end. In 1536 the lesser
priories and monasteries were suppressed, and we can well imagine the
tremor which this daring act of Henry must have sent through the
religious world. We can be sure the blow was unexpected by the monks
themselves. Only a few years before this Clement Lichfield had devoted
much labour and money to the decoration of the great church, and his
last work was the building of the tower which stands to this day. We
can never know whether the architectural additions which he made to
the parish churches were suggested by the suspicion that they might
survive that glorious edifice under whose shadow they reposed; but in
his later years of retirement surely we may believe that he
experienced a sorrowful gratification at the thought that some of his
work would remain for the admiration of future ages, and that his
mortal remains would lie in peace within the chapel which, in his
youth, he had planned and adorned.

While Thomas Cromwell and his agents were engaged in their grim work
of destruction we can fancy how Rumour first made herself busy; how
the people talked of royal commissions and inquiries; tales would
reach them of priories and convents which were seized, and of monks
and nuns thrown upon the world. Messengers were seen to come and go,
and the great gatehouse of the Abbey was eagerly watched by the
curious and anxi