But as we go through the country and find one after another of those majestic buildings in grey stone, made so perfect as to defy the centuries, we must gratefully remember that it was King Edward who first of all set up this "new style" as a model in our midst.
One characteristic was, that every great church should be built in the form of a cross; in the centre the nave, at the east end the High Altar, and where the nave merged into the choir cross arms on the right and on the left, and so it was that Westminster was the first cruciform church in England.
This is a description of Edward's building, given to us in a French Life of the king, written very shortly after his death:--
"Now he laid the foundations of the church With large square blocks of grey stone. Its foundations are deep, The front, towards the east he makes round, The stones are very strong and hard. In the centre rises a tower And two at the western front, And fine and large bells he hangs there. The pillars and mouldings Are rich without and within. At the basis and the capitals The work rises grand and royal. Sculptured are the stones And storied the windows. All are made with the skill Of good and loyal workmanship. And when he finished the work, He covers the church with lead. He makes then a Cloister, and Chapter-House in front, Towards the east, vaulted and round, Where his ordained ministers May hold their secret Chapter, Prater and dorter, And the officers round about."
Considering the size of Edward's building, for it was very little if any smaller than the Abbey as we know it to-day, it is unlikely that all the parts described by the French chronicler were finished during the lifetime of the king. Indeed, the royal builder seems to have known that his eyes would never rest on his work, perfected as he dreamt of it. His longing therefore was that church and choir might be completed and dedicated, and for the rest he made such munificent gifts in land and money, plate and jewels to the Abbot, that he had no fear but that the building of the monastery with its cloisters and dormitories, infirmary and refectory, would be easily accomplished, even if he did not live to see it.
Signs were not wanting to warn him that the hour of his death was near at hand. He had ever firmly believed in dreams and visions, and of late these had been full of solemn meaning to him. He had seen the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus turning from their right sides to their left, and this he judged to be an omen which told of a great upheaval, of wars, pestilence, and famine, which should last for seventy years. Then, too, the Christ Child had appeared to him as he stood near the High Altar in the newly finished choir, and had told him how soon he was to be called hence. And, most wonderful of all, two pilgrims, just returned from the Holy Land, came to the king with a strange story.