of Lichfield and Coventry, four of Worcester,
and two Bishops-Suffragan of Coventry.

The south aisle is 6 feet narrower than the north at the west end, but
its want of parallelism adds 7 feet to its width at its far eastern
end.

The south-west doorway has its original doors, though these have been
subjected to restoration. The first chapel on the south side belonged
to the Dyers' Company. When the principal trade of Coventry was the
manufacture of woollen and worsted stuffs and the production of a
special blue thread, so excellent that it gave rise to a proverbial
expression, "he is true Coventry Blue", the Dyers were an important
Company.[6] A chantry known as Tale's was probably attached to this
chapel, as the salary of the priest, _L5 6s. 8d._, was paid by the
Dyers' Company of London. An upper chamber for the priest existed as
late as 1607; the floor corbels still remain. A large marble monument
(removed hither from the chancel) has medallion portraits of two
ladies--Dame Mary Bridgeman and Mrs. Eliza Samwell. The former with
her husband, Sir Orlando (Lord Keeper of the Great Seal under Charles
II), both died in 1701. The latter, dying in 1724, "ordered this
monument to be erected as a remembrance of their great and loving
friendship."

The Chapel is now the =Baptistery=. A large eighteenth-century marble
font was removed to the Lady Chapel and a new Gothic one put in its
place, so that there are now three in the church.

The south porch (1300) is the earliest part of the existing church.
The inner doors appear to be of the early sixteenth century, the
outer, though old, are of much later date and are not part of the
original scheme. On the wall on each side of the inner doors are
brasses of some interest. That on the right hand has a curious epitaph
which runs thus:

Here lies the body of Captn Gervase Scrope, of the family of
Scropes, of Bolton in the County of York, who departed this life
the 26 of August, Anno Dni 1705, aged 66.

An Epitaph, written by himself, in the agony and dolorous paines
of the gout and dyed soon after.

Here lyes an old toss'd Tennis Ball
Was racketted, from spring to fall,
With so much heat and so much hast,
Time's arm for shame grew tyred at last.
Four kings in camps he truly served.
And from his loyalty ne'er swerved,
Father ruin'd and son slighted,
And from the Crown ne'er requited.
Loss of estate, relations, blood,