urch was being repaired, and some brickwork fell away.
Through the gap, it is said, the coffin could be seen on the floor; the
form of the body was distinct, and the beard was still there. The vault
was sealed again; it had been unopened for more than two hundred and
fifty years. It was during these alterations that the cenotaph standing
over the vault was removed further east to where it now stands. It is a
typical piece of Renaissance work, florid, intricate, insistent on the
ghastliness of death. The effigy of the archbishop, stern and noble,
lies on its marble bed supported by stacks of gilt-clasped books;
underneath, a grating reveals a medley of human bones, carved with the
minutest detail. The artist evidently enjoyed the work. But it is better
worth looking at, for all that, than the monument on the other side of
the church, where the recumbent form of Sir Arthur Onslow is apparently
giving vague directions to an imaginary audience. Wrapped in a Roman
toga, he waves a sleeveless right arm; his left is propped by a set of
Journals of the House of Commons. It is a relief to pass beyond such
tawdry pomposities into the solemn little chapel, sacred to one of the
great regiments of the Army, the Queen's, the old Second of the Line.
Their badge, the Lamb and Flag, and their name they get from Katherine
of Braganza, Charles the Second's queen. Later, as Kirke's Lambs, they
added to a dreadful fame at Sedgmoor; but rebellion breeds brutality,
and Kirke was probably no more ferocious than others who have had to
deal with insurgents. Since Sedgmoor, the Queen's, or to give them their
other and less distinctive name, the Royal West Surrey Regiment, have
served in practically every important campaign in which the Army has
been engaged. Their tattered banners, with the broken, proud
inscriptions of campaigns and battles, droop above long lists of dead.

Of the two other great Guildford churches, the lower, or Church of St.
Nicholas, stands at the bottom of the High Street on the far side of the
Wey. Probably it is the fourth church that has stood on this site; there
are at all events, records of three previous demolitions, though each
demolition has left one feature standing--the Loseley Chapel, belonging
to the Mores of Loseley Park. With the exception of this chapel, with
its brasses and monuments, dating back to the fourteenth century
memorial of Arnold Brocas of Beaurepaire (surely a name of names!), the
church is chiefly