"The haunted aisles, the gathering gloom, By some stray shaft of eve made fair; The stillness of the neighbouring air, The faded legends of the tomb. I loved them all..." Hathercourt Church is not beautiful, though the internal evidence in favour of its having at one time been so is considerable. It has suffered sorely at the hands of plasterers and white-washers; yet the utmost efforts of these misguided people have not altogether succeeded in effacing the traces of a better state of things--there is still grandeur in the sweep of the lofty roof, oak-raftered behind its dingy white covering; still "meaning and mystery" in the quaintly varying windows; much satisfaction for the learned in s…
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