The strong ale which he brewed in October, is tapped in March by roystering troopers.

The rich muscadel and malmsey, and the wines of Gascoigne and the Rhine, are no longer quaffed by the abbot and his more honoured guests, but drunk to his destruction by his foes.

The great gallery, a hundred and fifty feet in length, the pride of the abbot's lodging, and a model of architecture, is filled not with white-robed ecclesiastics, but with an armed earl and his retainers.

Neglected is the little oratory dedicated to Our Lady of Whalley, where night and morn the abbot used to pray.

All the old religious and hospitable uses of the abbey are foregone.