Coventry

NO city in England mingles new and old in quite the same piquant juxtaposition as Coventry. The great bicycle city, the munitions city, has not quite submerged the ancient one of five hundred years ago—the city of the great monastery, of White Friars and Grey, of guilds and ancient merchandise, of glass and oak and tapestry, and of the forest of spires. Of some of these we have fragments and ruins—a few old stories, a carven black beam here and there; of the spires, three—the landmark and pride of “no mean city.”

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