s of wrath,
of strife, of warfare, the clangour of armour, the din of war, was now
made musical with the chorus of praise, or was gently stirred by the
breath of prayer or the sigh of penitence; and where contending hosts
were marshalled in proud array, or the phalanx rushed impetuous to the
battle, were seen the stoled monks in solemn procession, or the holy
brother peacefully wending on his errand of charity.

But the grey and time-honoured walls waxed aged as they beheld
generation after generation consigned to dust beneath their shelter.
Time and change have done their worst. A few scattered ruins, seen
dimly through the mist of years, are all that remain to point to the
inquiring wanderer the site of the stupendous struggle of which the
results are felt even after the expiration of eight hundred years.

These may be deemed trite reflections: still it is worthy of remark,
that many of the turbulent spirits who then made earth echo with their
fame would have been literally and altogether as though they never had
been--for historians make little or no mention of them--were it not
for the lasting monument raised to them in this tapestry by woman's
industry and skill.

Matilda the Queen's character is pictured in high terms by both
English and Norman historians. "So very stern was her husband, and
hot, that no man durst do anything against his will. He had earls in
his custody who acted against his will. Bishops he hurled from their
bishoprics, and abbots from their abbacies, and thanes into prison;"
yet it is recorded that even his iron temper was not proof against the
good sense, the gentleness, the piety, and the affection of a wife who
never offended him but once; and on this occasion there was so much to
palliate and excuse her fault, proceeding as it did from a mother's
yearnings towards her eldest son when he was in disgrace and sorrow,
that the usually unyielding King forgave her immediately. She lived
beloved, and she died lamented; and, from the time of her death, the
King, says William of Malmsbury, "refrained from every gratification."

Independently of the value of this tapestry as an historical
authority, and its interest as being projected, and in part executed,
by a lady as excellent in character as she was noble in rank, and its
high estimation as the oldest piece of needlework extant--independently
of all these circumstances, it is impossible to study this memorial
closely, "rude and skilless" as i