ndows would be worth knowing. They were evidently
not wholly made for the tracery, though parts of them may have been.
According to one account, they were purchased by Archbishop Abbot from
the Dominican Friary which used to stand at the end of Guildford North
Street, and which was converted into a Manor House after the dissolution
of the monasteries. But the glass belongs to more than one period, and
some of it was evidently added by the Archbishop, for among the heraldic
devices above the Jacob and Esau lights are the Abbot arms impaling the
Canterbury arms. Also--a point which the antiquarians have no doubt
noticed, but I can find no reference to it in any book--the initials
S.R., which appear in the centre top opening of the north window under
the date 1621, are evidently part of another inscription. On the left
side of the S is part of a V or U, as if the end of a Latin word ending
in "us" had had its tail chopped off. The letters must have been
selected from the original inscription for some definite reason; what
can it have been?

Archbishop Abbot's bones lie opposite his hospital, in the church of
Holy Trinity. Of the three churches which stand on the High Street,
Trinity Church is the highest up the hill, and was called the Upper
Church in the days when Puritanism preferred not to mention dedications.
It is, comparatively speaking, a modern building, red-brick and heavy;
it was built after the old church fell down in 1740. An admirable calm
must have pervaded the citizens of Guildford on that occasion. Russell,
one of Guildford's historians, observes that the inhabitants, "desirous
of improving" the church, had recently repaired it at a cost of L750. He
then adds, reflectively, that "As the arches and pillars which supported
the steeple were then taken away, it was soon after supposed to be in a
very ruinous condition." On April 18, 1740, an order was given for the
church to be inspected. On the 19th it was inspected, and the steeple
was reported to be very unsafe. On the 20th, therefore, which was
Sunday, service was performed for the last time. On the 23rd the steeple
fell in and took the roof with it; the workmen had left the church a few
minutes before. Even then there was at least one untroubled soul in
Guildford. The verger was told that the steeple had fallen. "That cannot
be," he replied, "I have the key in my pocket."

The vault in which the archbishop lies was accidentally opened in 1888,
when the ch