nting at
Cowdray, in Sussex, representing the procession of Edward VI. from the
Tower to Westminster, an engraving of which we have given on page 313,
we gather that the cross was both stately and graceful. It consisted of
three octangular compartments, each supported by eight slender columns.
The basement story was probably twenty feet high; the second, ten; the
third, six. In the first niche stood the effigy of probably a
contemporaneous pope; round the base of the second were four apostles,
each with a nimbus round his head; and above them sat the Virgin, with
the infant Jesus in her arms. The highest niche was occupied by four
standing figures, while crowning all rose a cross surmounted by the
emblematic dove. The whole was rich with highly-finished ornament.

Fox, the martyrologist, says the cross was erected on what was then an
open spot of Cheapside. Some writers assert that a statue of Queen
Eleanor first stood on the spot, but this is very much doubted. The
cross was rebuilt in 1441, and combined with a drinking-fountain. The
work was a long time about, as the full design was not carried to
completion till the first year of Henry VII. This second erection was,
in fact, a sort of a timber-shed surrounding the old cross, and covered
with gilded lead. It was, we are told, re-gilt on the visit of the
Emperor Charles V. On the accession of Edward VI., that child of
promise, the cross was altered and beautified.

The generations came and went. The 'prentice who had played round the
cross as a newly-girdled lad sat again on its steps as a rich citizen,
in robes and chain. The shaven priest who stopped to mutter a prayer to
the half-defaced Virgin in the votive niche gave place to his successor
in the Geneva gown, and still the cross stood, a memory of death, that
spares neither king nor subject. But in Elizabeth's time, in their
horror of image-worship, the Puritans, foaming at the mouth at every
outward and visible sign of the old religion, took great exception at
the idolatrous cross of Chepe. Violent protest was soon made. In the
night of June 21st, 1581, an attack was made on the lower tier of
images--_i.e._, the Resurrection, Virgin, Christ, and Edward the
Confessor, all which were miserably mutilated. The Virgin was "robbed of
her son, and the arms broken by which she stayed him on her knees, her
whole body also haled by ropes and left ready to fall." The Queen
offered a reward, but the offenders were not disco