=Hic jacet Joh'es Colshull miles quo'd'm d'n's de Tremethert et patron' huj's eccl'e qui obiit xviii die m'es m'cii an'o D'ni Mill' cccclxxxiii cuj' a'ie prop'ciet' Deu' a'="
Thus at the death of these brothers, the name of Cheney in the Devonshire branch became extinct.
A long genealogical digression this, but only the necessary putting together a portion of the skeleton of our little history, which we hope to clothe eventually with something of living interest. Our path has led us back again to the elevated platform of the railway bridge, and also at a mile's distance before us, the old town of Westbury, in which, says Leland, "there is a large churche, and the towne stondith moste by clothiers" appears dimly among the trees,--and its characteristics of to-day still accurately confirm the itinerant's description of three centuries ago. There, rises the lofty church tower much as he witnessed it, but the tall chimney shafts that bear it company have absorbed all the hand-looms that then made busy, by the weaving of kersey and serge, the cottage precincts when he paced its streets.
Through the long, and comparatively quiet main thoroughfare of the little borough, and our thoughts are busy, though our steps are stayed, as we halt to admire the large and handsome west window of the church, perpendicular in style, but with considerable originality of treatment in design; and rising behind it, the massive proportions of the tower.
Here we hope to find some memorials of Paveley, Cheney or Willoughby, for our historic memory recalls to us, that within the fabric there is a Chantry which was formerly attached to Broke Hall, and that its windows were said to be filled with _rudders_ as at their old seat. Our foot crosses the porch threshold, and with intuitive direction leads us at once to the east end of the south aisle, where some apparently well-preserved old oak screen-work, partition off what we rightly divine was the Broke Chantry. But as we draw near a vision of ominous newness, windows flaming with colour, and garish decoration of costly kind spread over every part, puts to the rout at once all hope of anything antient being found within it; and we learn that the Chantry has been recently elaborately 'restored' as a memorial chapel to the present owners of Broke, whose family have held its possession for about a century.