Full text of "Father Thames"

See other formats

I. IT

TEA

WALTER

fammmm

WEtr:.'J

-\\<\p of the

River Thames

from j ft Source 16 "Windsor

Sca/e of Miles

V—Zj*^ S/rpa//pv J

i/ey Mitt

Nuneham
.Courtenay

Clifton G°cZ%»

*porchesrer

WollintfforfiV Crow- ^$£V " ^wF-'^T---
i holsey kMoR0ewlf *^ £ d

MouUford\N. Strike ^ %

S. Stoke

S%*tktfGon^ / lsrpy)l

JSasildorA / r '

Writclturch / S^H/tVfcro™
y~ • Maple dur ham >*^ *

P^JboiirAe^X^Cwerelim/SonmTiJi

Gre&T Bourne End

ljuxty Cookhwn

Maidenhead /Wlaw

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2008 with funding from

Microsoft Corporation

http://www.archive.org/details/fatherthamesOOhigg

FATHER THAMES

is....;?..*......c».

"^orh'of Jon dor.

[Ftontispicce

FATHER THAMES

WALTER HIGGINS

WELLS GARDNER, DARTON & CO., LTD.
3 & 4 PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, LONDON, E.C.

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN

FATHER THAMES

Book I.— London River.

Book II.— The Great City which the River made.

Book III.— The Upper River.

This book is also issued in separate parts, as above.

CONTENTS

BOOK I
LONDON RIVER

CHAPTER PAGE

introduction: the river and its VALLEY - I

I. LONDON RIVER - - - - " J5

II. THE ESTUARY AND ITS TOWNS - - 3 1

III. THE MEDWAY AND ITS TOWNS - - - 40

IV. GRAVESEND AND TILBURY - - - j2
V. THE MARSHES - - - - - 64

VI. WOOLWICH - - - - " 77

VII. GREENWICH - 87

VIII. THE PORT AND THE DOCKS - - IOI

BOOK II
THE GREAT CITY WHICH THE RIVER MADE

I. HOW THE RIVER FOUNDED THE CITY - - 123

II. HOW THE CITY GREW (ROMAN DAYS) - "13°

III. HOW THE CITY GREW (SAXON DAYS) - - 1 37

IV. HOW THE CITY GREW (NORMAN DAYS) - - I43
V. THE RIVER'S FIRST BRIDGE ... j_^y

VI. HOW THE CITY GREW (iN THE MIDDLE AGES) - I57

VII. THE TOWER OF LONDON - 166

VIII. HOW FIRE DESTROYED WHAT THE RIVER HAD MADE - l8l

vi CONTENTS

CHAPTER l'AGE

IX. THE RIVERSIDE AND ITS PALACES - 193

X. ROYAL WESTMINSTER THE ABBEY - - 209

XI. ROYAL WESTMINSTER THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT 220

XII. THE RIVERSIDE OF TO-DAY - 227

BOOK III

THE UPPER RIVER

I. STRIPLING THAMES ----- 237

II. OXFORD ------ 246

III. ABINGDON, WALLINGFORD, AND THE GORING GAP - 263

IV. READING ------ 27I

V. HOLIDAY THAMES HENLEY TO MAIDENHEAD - 279

VI. WINDSOR ------ 285

VII. ETON COLLEGE ----- 298

VIII. HAMPTON COURT - - - 305

IX. KINGSTON - - - - - 317

X. RICHMOND - - - 326

XI. RICHMOND TO WESTMINSTER - - 332

INDEX

349

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

BOOK I
LONDON RIVER

CHART OF THE THAMES FROM THE SOURCE TO WINDSOR

Front end. papers
PORT OF LONDON OFFICES - - Frontispiece

PAGE

how the thames was made - - - - 4

the birth of the river - - -8

mouth of the thames - - - - - l6

the nore lightship - - - - - 17

sheerness - - 20

training ships off greenhithe - zz

London's giant gateway - - 25

THE POOL- - - - - - 27

a thames-side wharf - - - - zg

rochester castle - - - - - 48

rochester cathedral - - - - "5°

gravesend - "54

a river-side cement works - - - 56

tilbury fort - - 5s

bugsby's reach - - - 69

woolwich - - - - - 79

greenwich park - - 88

greenwich hospital - - - - - 94

the royal observatory - - 98

dockland - - - io3

dockhead, bermondsey - i07

wapping and limehouse - io9

a giant liner - - - - - -ii7

BOOK II
THE GREAT CITY WHICH THE RIVER MADE

THE THAMES AT LAMBETH, FROM THE AIR - 120, 121

THE LONDON COUNTY HALL - - - I 22

ROMAN LONDON (PLAN) ----- 133

BASTION OK ROMAN WALL, CRIPPLEGATE CHURCHYARD - 135

THE CONQUEROR'S MARCH ON LONDON (PLAN) - - I43

OLD LONDON BRIDGE ----- 148

AN ARCH OF OLD LONDON BRIDGE - - I50

vii

viii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

WAGE

CHAPEL OF ST. THOMAS BECKET ON THE BRIDGE - I52

LONDON BRIDGE IN MODERN TIMES ... 155

BAYNARD'S CASTLE BEFORE THE GREAT FIRE - - 160

GROUND PLAN OF THE TOWER - 168
TRAITOR'S GATE - - - - - -178

THE MONUMENT ------ 182

OLD ST. PAUL'S (A.D. I500) - 189

THE FLEET RIVER AT BLACKFRIARS (A.D. I760) - 194

OLD TEMPLE BAR, FLEET STREET ... 2OI
THE STRAND FROM THE THAMES (SIXTEENTH CENTURY) 202, 203

THE WATER-GATE OF YORK HOUSE - 206

THE BANQUETING HALL, WHITEHALL - - 208

THE RIVER AT THORNEY ISLAND (PLAN) - 2IO

HENRY VII. 'S CHAPEL, WESTMINSTER ABBEY - - 214

WESTMINSTER ABBEY - - - - 2l6

THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT - - - 221

ST. PAUL'S FROM THE SOUTH END OF SOUTHWARK BRIDGE 23 1

BOOK III
THE UPPER RIVER

THE CASTLE KEEP, OXFORD - 236

THAMES HEAD ------ 238

LECHLADE FROM THE FIRST LOCK - 24O

KELMSCOTT MANOR ----- 242

MAGDALEN TOWER, OXFORD - - - 252

ABINGDON ------ 264

THE GATEHOUSE, READING ABBEY - - - 273

SONNING ------- 280

HENLEY ------- 281

DIAGRAM OF THE THAMES VALLEY TERRACES - - 283

WINDSOR CASTLE - - 286

ETON COLLEGE ----- 299

HAMPTON COURT, GARDEN FRONT - 306

KINGSTON ------ 322

TEDDINGTON WEIR - - 324
RICHMOND HILL FROM PETERSHAM MEADOWS - "32 7

FROM THE TERRACE, RICHMOND - - - - 330

KEW GARDENS ------ 334

PUTNEY TO MORTLAKE (CHAMPIONSHIP COURSE) - 338

FULHAM PALACE ------ 34O

RANELAGH - - - - - "341

THE POWER STATION, CHELSEA - - 345

THE LOLLARDS' TOWER, LAMBETH PALACE - 346
CHART OF THE THAMES FROM WINDSOR TO THE NORE

Back end-papers

FATHER THAMES

INTRODUCTION

The River and its Valley

England is not a country of great rivers. No
mighty Nile winds lazily across desert and
fertile plains in its three and a half thousand
miles course to the sea ; no rushing Brahmaputra
plunges headlong down its slopes, falling two
or three miles as it crosses half a continent from
icy mountain-tops to tropical sea-board. In
comparison with such as these England's biggest
rivers are but the tiniest, trickling streams.
Yet, for all that, our little waterways have
always meant much to the land. Tyne, Severn,
Humber, Trent, Thames, Mersey, Ouse — all
these, with many smaller but no less well-
known streams, have played their part in the
making of England's history; all these have had
much to do with the building up of her com-
mercial prosperity.

i A

FATHER THAMES

One only of these rivers we shall consider in
this book, and that is old " Father Thames ":
as it was and as it is, and what it has meant to
England during two thousand years. In our
consideration we shall divide the River roughly
into three quite natural divisions — first, the
section up to the lowest bridge; second, the part
just above, the part which gave the River its
chief port and city; third, the upper river.

However, before we consider these three parts
in detail, there is one question which we might
well ponder for a little while, a question which
probably has never occurred to more than a
few of us; and that is this: Why was there
ever a River Thames at all ? To answer it we
must go back — far, far back into the dim past.
As you know, this world of ours is millions of
years old, and like most ancient things it has
seen changes — tremendous changes. Its sur-
face has altered from time to time in amazing
fashion. Whole mountain ranges have dis-
appeared from sight, and valleys have been
raised to make fresh highlands. The bed of
the ocean has suddenly or slowly been thrust

THE RIVER AND ITS VALLEY

up, yielding entirely new continents, while vast
areas of land have sunk deep enough to allow
the water to flow in and create new seas. All
this we know by the study of the rocks and the
fossil remains buried in them — that is, by the
science of geology.

Now, among many other strange things,
geology teaches us that our own islands were at
one time joined on to the mainland of Europe.
In those days there was no English Channel, no
North Sea, and no Irish Sea. Instead, there
was a great piece of land stretching from Den-
mark and Norway right across to spots miles
out beyond the western limits of Ireland and
the northern limits of Scotland. This land,
which you will best understand by looking care-
fully at the map, p. 4, was crossed by several
rivers, the largest of them one which flowed
almost due north right across what is now the
North Sea. This river, as you will see from
the map, was chiefly produced by glaciers of
the Alps, and, in its early stages, took prac-
tically the same course as the River Rhine of
these days. As it flowed out across the Dogger

FATHER THAMES

district (where now is the famous Dogger Bank
of our North Sea fishermen) it was joined by a
number of tributary rivers, which flowed down

How the Thames was made.

eastwards from what we might call the " back-
bone of England " — the range of mountains and
hills which passes down through the centre of
our islands. One of these tributaries was a

THE RIVER AND ITS VALLEY

river which in its early stages flowed along what
is now our own Thames Valley.

In those days everything was on a much
grander scale, and this river, though only a
small tributary of the great main continental
river, was a far wider and deeper stream than
the Thames which we know. Here and there
along the present-day river valley we can
still see in the contours of the land and in the
various rocks evidences of the time when this
bigger stream was flowing. (Of this we shall
read more in Book III.) Thus things were
when there came the great surface change
which enabled the water to flow across wide
tracts of land and so form the British Islands,
standing out separately from the mainland of
Europe.

All that, of course, happened long, long ago — ■
many thousands of years before the earliest
days mentioned in our history books — at a time
about which we know nothing at all save what
we can read in that wonderful book of Nature
whose pages are the rocks and stones of the
earth's surface.

FATHER THAMES

By the study of these rocks and the fossil
remains in them we can learn just a few things
about the life of those days — the strange kinds
of trees which covered the earth from sea to
sea, the weird monsters which roamed in the
forests and over the hills. Of man we can learn
very little. We can get some rough idea of
when he first appeared in Britain, and we can
tell by the remains preserved in caves, etc.,
in some small degree what sort of life he lived.
But that is all: the picture of England in those
days is a very dim one.

How and when the prehistoric man of these
islands grew to some sort of civilization we
cannot say. When first he learned to till the
soil and grow his crops, to weave rough clothes
for himself, to domesticate certain animals to
carry his goods, to make roads along which
these animals might travel, to barter his goods
with strangers — all these are mysteries which
we shall probably never solve.

Just this much we can say: prehistoric man
probably came to a simple form of civilization
a good deal earlier than is commonly supposed.

THE RIVER AND ITS VALLEY

As a rule our history books start with the year
of Caesar's coming (55 B.C.), and treat every-
thing before that date as belonging to absolute
savagery. But there are many evidences which
go to show that the Britons of that time were
to some considerable extent a civilized people,
who traded pretty extensively with Gaul (France,
that is), and who knew how to make roads and
embankments and, perhaps, even bridges.

As early man grew to be civilized, as he
learned to drain the flooded lands by the side
of the stream and turn them from desolate fens
and marshes to smiling productive fields, and
as he learned slowly how to get from the hill-
sides and the plain the full value of his labour,
so he realized more and more the possibilities
of the great river-valley.

*****

The Thames flows in what may be regarded
as an excellent example of a river-basin. A
large area, no less than six thousand square
miles, is enclosed on practically all sides by
ranges of hills, generally chalk hills, which
slope down gently into its central plain; and

FATHER THAMES

across this area, from Gloucestershire to the
North Sea, for more than two hundred miles
the River winds slowly seawards, joined here
and there by tributaries, which add their share
to the stream as they come down from the
encompassing heights.

On the extreme west of the basin lie the Cots-

\ \ \ ' ■ — ■ ■ —

j ' PLRriEABLL ' * ^^_^-4-4r -c- -,-" i .,.-■■■ v

The Birth of the River.

wold Hills of Gloucestershire. Here the Thames
is born. The rain which falls on the hill- tops
makes its way steadily into the soil, and is
retained there. Down and down it sinks
through the porous limestone and chalk, till
eventually it reaches a layer of impenetrable
material — clay, slate, or stone — through which

THE RIVER AND ITS VALLEY

it can no longer pursue its downward course.
Its only way now is along the upper surface of
the stratum of impermeable material. Thus it
comes in time to the places on the hill-sides
where the stratum touches the open air (see
diagram on p. 8), and there it gushes forth in
the form of springs, which in turn become tiny
streams, some falling westwards down the steep
Severn valley, others running eastwards down
the gentler declivity.

At their northern end the Cotswolds sweep
round to join Edge Hill; and then the hill-wall
crosses the uplands of that rolling country which
we call the Central Tableland, and so comes to
the long stretch of the East Anglian Heights,
passing almost continuously eastward through
Hertfordshire and North Essex to Suffolk. On
the south side the ring of hills sweeps round by
way of the Marlborough Downs, and so comes
to the long scarp of the " North " Downs, which
make their way eastwards to the Kentish coast.

Within the limits of this ring of hills the
valley lies, not perfectly flat like an alluvial
plain, but gently, very gently, undulating,

FATHER THAMES

seldom rising more than two or three hundred
feet above sea-level, save where that great
ridge of chalk — the Chiltern-Marlborough range
— straddles right across the basin at Goring.

Standing on one of the little eminences of the
valley we can survey the scene before us: we
can watch the River for many miles winding its
way seawards, and note in all directions the
same fertile, flourishing countryside, with its
meadows where the soft-eyed cattle browse on
the rich grass ; its warm, brown plough-lands ; its
rich, golden fields of wheat, oats, and barley;
its pretty orchards and farms close at hand; its
nestling, tidy villages; its little pointed church
steeples dotted everywhere. We can see in
the distance, maybe, one or two compact little
towns, for towns always spring up on wide,
well-farmed plains, since the farmers must have
proper markets to which to send their supplies
of eggs, butter, cheese, and milk, and proper
mills where their grain may be ground into flour.

It is a pleasant, satisfying prospect — one
which suggests industrious, thrifty farmers
reaping the rich reward of their unsparing

THE RIVER AND ITS VALLEY

labours; and it is an interesting prospect, too,
for this same prosperous countryside, very little
altered during half a dozen centuries, has done
much to establish and maintain the position of
the Thames as the great river of England.

The usefulness of a river to its country depends
on several things. In the first place, it must be
able to carry goods — to act as a convenient
highway along which the traffic can descend
through the valley towards the busy places near
the mouth. That is to say, it must be navigable
to barges and small boats throughout a con-
siderable portion of its length. In the second
place, there must be the goods to carry. That is
to say, the river must pass through a country-
side which can produce in great quantity things
which are needed. In the third place, the chief
port of the river must lie in such a position that
it is within comparatively easy distance of good
foreign markets.

Now let us see how these three conditions
apply to the River Thames.

Firstly, with regard to the goods themselves.
If we take our map of England, and lay a pencil

FATHER THAMES

across it from Bristol to the Wash, we shall be
marking off what has been through the greater
part of English history the boundary of the
wealthy portion of Britain, for only in modern
times, since the development of the iron and
coal fields, and the discovery that the damp
climate of the north was exactly suited to the
manufacture of textiles, has the great industrial
North of England come into being. England
in the Middle Ages, and on till a century or more
ago, was an agricultural country; its wealth lay
very largely in what it grew and what it reared;
and the south provided the most suitable
countryside for this sort of production. The
consequence was that the Thames flowed right
down through the centre of wealthy England.
All round it were the chalk-ranges on which
throve the great herds of long-fleeced sheep
that provided the wonderful wool for which
England was famous, and which was in many
respects the main source of her prosperity.
In between the hills were the cornfields and the
orchards. And dotted all down the course at
convenient points were thriving towns, each of

THE RIVER AND ITS VALLEY

which could, as it were, drain off the produce
of the area behind it, and so act as a collecting
and forwarding station for the traffic of the
main stream.

The River, too, was quite capable of dealing
with the great output, for it was navigable for
barges and small boats as far as Lechlade, a
matter of 150 miles from the mouth, and its
tributaries were in most cases capable of bearing
traffic for quite a few miles into the right and
left interior. Moreover, its current at ordinary
times was neither too swift nor too sluggish.

So that, with the wealth produced by the
land and the means of transport provided by
the River, the only things needed to make the
Thames one of Europe's foremost rivers were
the markets.

Here again the Thames was fortunate in its
situation, for its mouth stood in an advan-
tageous position facing the most important
harbours of Normandy, Flanders, Holland, and
Germany, all within comparatively easy dis-
tance, and all of them ready to take our incom-
parable wool and our excellent corn in exchange

FATHER THAMES

for the things they could bring us. Moreover,
the tides served in such a way that the double
tides of the Channel and the North Sea made
London the most easily reached port of all for
ships coming from the south.

Thus, then, favoured as it was by its natural
situation and by its character, the Thames be-
came by far the most important highway in our
land, and this it remained for several centuries —
until the coming of the railways, in fact.

Now the River above London counts for very
little in our system of communications. Like
all other English waterways, canals and rivers
alike, it has given place to the iron road, not-
withstanding the fact that goods can be carried
by water at a mere fraction of the cost of rail-
transport. But our merchants do not seem to
realize this; and so in this matter we find our-
selves a long way behind our neighbours on the
Continent.

LONDON RIVER

CHAPTER ONE

London River

From its mouth inwards to London Bridge the
Thames is not the Thames, for like many
another important commercial stream it takes
its name from the Port to which the seamen
make their way, and it becomes to most of those
who use it — London River.

Now where does London River begin at the
seaward side ? At the Nore. The seaward
limit of the Port of London Authority is some-
what to the east of the Nore Light, and consists
of an imaginary line stretching from a point
at the mouth of Havingore Creek (nearly four
miles north-east of Shoeburyness on the Essex
coast) to Warden Point on the Kent coast, eight
miles or so from Sheerness; and this we may
regard quite properly as the beginning of the
River. The opening here is about ten miles

FATHER THAMES

wide, but narrows between Shoeburyness and
Sheerness, where for more practical purposes
the River commences, to about six miles.

Right here at the mouth the River receives
its last and most important tributary — the
Medway.

For some miles up the estuary and the

:S5E1X

lower reaches the character of the River is such
that it is difficult to imagine anything less
interesting, less impressive, less suggestive of
what the river-approach to the greatest city in
the world should be; for there is nothing but
flat land on all sides, so flat that were not the
great sea-wall in position the whole countryside

LONDON RIVER

would soon revert to its original condition of
marsh and fenland. Were we unfamiliar with
the nature of the landscape, a glance at the map
would convince us at once, for in continuous

^~ :

yr-

WhereJondon 7\//er

Joins /je&ea.

stretch from Sheerness and the Medway we find
on the Kentish bank — Grain Marsh (the Isle
of Grain), St. Mary's Marshes, Halslow Marshes,
Cooling Marshes, Cliffe Marshes, and so on.

17 B

FATHER THAMES

Nor is the Essex bank any better once we have
left behind the slightly higher ground on which
stand Southend, Westclifr, and Leigh, for the
low, flat Canvey Island is succeeded by the
Mucking and East Tilbury Marshes.

The river-wall, extending right awa}^ from
the mouth to London on the Essex side, is a
wonderful piece of engineering — man's con-
tinuously successful effort against the persist-
ence of Nature — a feature strongly reminiscent
of the Lowlands on the other side of the narrow
seas. Who first made this mighty dyke ? No
one knows. Probably in many places it is not
younger than Roman times, and there are
certain things about it which tend to show an
even earlier origin.

Indeed, so long ago was it made that the
mouth and lower parts of the River must have
presented to the various invaders through the
centuries very much the same appearance as
they present to anyone entering the Thames
to-day. The Danes in their long ships, prowling
round the Essex and Thanet coasts in search
of a way into the fair land, probably saw just

LONDON RIVER

these same dreary flats on each hand, save that
when they sailed unhindered up the River they
caught in places the glint of waters beyond
the less carefully attended embankment. The
foreign merchants of the Middle Ages — the men
of Genoa and Florence, of Flanders and the
Hanseatic Towns — making their way upstream
with an easterly wind and a flowing tide; the
Elizabethan venturers coming back with their
precious cargoes from long and perilous voyages ;
the Dutch sweeping defiantly into the estuary
in the degenerate days of Charles II. — all these
must have beheld a spectacle almost identical
with that which greets our twentieth-century
travellers returning from the East.

Perhaps, at first sight, one of the most striking
things in all this stretch of the River is the
absence of ancient fortifications. True, we have
those at Sheerness, but they were made for the
guarding of the dockyard and of the approach to
the important military centre at Chatham, which
lies a few miles up the River Medway. Surely
this great opening into England, the gateway
to London, this key to the entire situation,

FATHER THAMES

should have had frowning castles on each shore
to call a halt to any venturesome, invading
force. Thus we think at once with our twen-
tieth-century conception of warfare — forgetting

onCv

C'Cdv

that the cannon of early days could never have
served to throw a projectile more than a mere
fraction of the distance across the stream.
Not till we pass up the Lower Hope and
20

LONDON RIVER

Gravesend Reaches and come to Tilbury and
Gravesend, facing each other on the two banks,
do we reach anything like a gateway. Then
we find Tilbury Fort on the Essex shore, holding
the way upstream. Here, at the ferry between
the two towns, the River narrows to less than
a mile in width; consequently the artillery of
ancient days might have been used with some-
thing like effectiveness.

From Gravesend westwards the country still
lies very low on each bank, but the monotony is
not quite so continuous, for here and there, first
at one side and then at the other, there rise from
the widespread flats little eminences, and on
these small towns generally flourish. At North-
fleet and Greenhithe, for instance, where the
chalk crops out, and the River flows up against
cliffs from ioo to 150 feet high, there is by
contrast quite a romantic air about the place,
and the same may be said of the little town of
Purfleet, which lies four miles up the straight
stretch of Long Reach, its wooded chalk bluffs
with their white quarries very prominent in the
vast plain. But, for the most part, it is marshes,

FATHER THAMES

>4m

^Sraimng Ships

off Qreenfritlie. I

"Arefhusev
for Homeleis Boys

" Worcester"

Nauhcfrl Training'
Gollege

LONDON RIVER

marshes all the way, particularly on the Essex
shore — marshes where are concocted those
poisonously unpleasant mixtures known as
" London specials/' the thick fogs which do so
much to make the River, and the Port as well,
a particularly unpleasant place at certain times
in winter. When a " London special " is about*
— that variety which East Enders refer to as the
" pea-soup " variety — the thick, yellow, smoke-
laden mist obscures everything, effectively put-
ting an end to all business for the time being.

Passing Erith on the Kent coast, and Dagen-
ham and Barking on the Essex, we come to the
point where London really begins on its east-
ward side. From now onwards on each bank
there is one long, winding line of commercial
buildings, backed in each case by a vast and
densely-populated area. On the southern shore
come Plumstead and Woolwich, to be succeeded
in continuity by Greenwich, Deptford, Rother-
hithe, and Bermondsey; while on the northern
side come in unbroken succession North Wool-
wich, Canning Town, and Silvertown (backed
by those tremendous new districts — East and

FATHER THAMES

West Ham, Blackwall and Poplar, Millwall,
Limehouse, Shadwell, and Wapping. In all the
eleven miles or so from Barking Creek to London
Bridge there is nothing to see but shipping and
the things appertaining thereto — great cargo-
boats moving majestically up or down the
stream, little tugs fussing and snorting their way
across the waters, wind-jammers of all sorts
and sizes dropping down lazily on the tide,
small coastal steamers, ugly colliers, dredgers,
businesslike Customs motor-boats and River
Police launches, vast numbers of barges, some
moving beautifully under their own canvas,
some being towed along in bunches, others
making their way painfully along, propelled
slowly by their long sweeps; there is nothing to
hear but the noises of shipping — the shrill cry
of the syren, the harsh rattling of the donkey-
engines, the strident shouts of the seamen and
the lightermen. Everything is marine, for this
is the Port of London.

Here where the River winds in and out are
the Docks, those tremendous basins which have
done so much to alter the character of London

LONDON RIVER

JonHon^)

FATHER THAMES

River during the last hundred years, that have
shifted the Port of London from the vicinity
of London Bridge and the Upper Pool, and
placed it several miles downstream, that have
rendered the bascules of that magnificent
structure, the Tower Bridge, comparatively
useless things, which now require to be raised
only a very few times in the course of a day.

In its course from the mouth inwards to the
Port the River is steadily narrowing. At
Yantlet Creek the stream is about four and a half
miles across ; but in the next ten miles it narrows
to a width of slightly under 1,300 yards at
Coalhouse Point at the upper end of the Lower
Hope Reach. At Gravesend the width is 800
yards, at Blackwall under 400, while at London
Bridge the width at high tide is a little less than
300 yards.

Just above and just below the Tower Bridge
is what is known as the Pool of London. Stand-
ing on the bridge, taking in the wonderful
picture up and down stream — the wide, filthy
London River, with its craft of all descriptions,
its banks lined with dirty, dull-looking wharves

LONDON RIVER

and warehouses, we find it hard to think of this
as the River which we shall see later slipping
past Clevedon Woods and Bablock-hythe or

The Pool.

under Folly Bridge at Oxford. Up there all
is bright and clean and sunny: here even on
the blithest summer day there is usually an
overhanging pall of smoke which serves to dim

FATHER THAMES

the brightest sunshine and add to the dreariness
of the scene.

Yet, despite its lack of beauty, despite all the
drawbacks of its ugliness and its squalor, this
is one of the most romantic places in all England :
a place to linger in and let the imagination have
free rein. What visions these ships call up —
visions of the wonderful East with its blaze of
colour and its burning sun, visions of Southern
seas with palm-clad coral islands, visions of the
frozen North with its bleak icefields and its
snowy forest lands, visions of crowded cities and
visions of the vast, lonely places of the earth.
For these ordinary-looking ships have come
from afar, bearing in their cavernous holds the
wealth of many lands, to be swallowed up by the
ravenous maw of the greatest port in the world.

Every minute is precious here. Engines are
rattling as the cranes lift up boxes and bales
from the interiors of the ships and deposit them
in the lighters that cluster round their sides. In-
shore the cranes are hoisting the goods from
the vessels to the warehouses as fast as they can.
Men are shouting and gesticulating; syrens are

FATHER THAMES

wailing out their doleful cry or screaming their
warning note. Everything is hurry and bustle,
for there are other cargoes waiting to take the
place of those now being discharged, and other
ships ready to take the berths of those unload-
ing; and there are tides to be thought of, unless
precious hours are to be wasted.

It is a fascinating place, is the Pool, and one
which never loses its interest for either young
or old.

CHAPTER TWO

The Estuary and its Towns

Sheppey, on the coast of which is the Warden
Point that forms one end of the Port of London
boundary line, is an island, separated from the
mainland of Kent by the Swale. People fre-
quently speak of it as the " Isle of Sheppey,"
but this title is not strictly correct, for the name
Sheppey really includes the word " island."
William Camden, that old writer on geographical
subjects, informs us that " this Isle of Sheepe,
whereof it feedeth mightie great flocks, was
called by our ancestours Shepey — that is, the
Isle of Sheepe."

Though it is only eleven miles long and five
miles broad, this little island presents within
its compass quite a variety of scenery, es-
pecially when the general flatness of the whole
area round about is borne in mind ; for, in addi-
tion to its riverside marshes, it has a distinctly
hilly ridge, geologically related to the North

FATHER THAMES

Downs, surmounted by a little village rejoicing
in the high-sounding name of Minster-in-Shep-
pey, wherein at one time was the ancient Saxon
" minster " or " priory " of St. Saxburga.
But the oft-repeated words concerning " pro-
phets " and "honour" apply to this little out-
of-the-way corner, for the men of Kent are wont
to say that when the world was made Sheppey
was never finished.

Naturally, from its situation, right at the
entrance to the Thames, Sheppey always played
some considerable part in the warfare of the
lower river. What happened in these parts in
very early days we do not know. We can only
conjecture that Celts, coming across from the
mainland of Europe in their frail vessels, found
this way into Britain, and without hindrance
sailed up the River to found the tiny settlement
of Llyndin hill: we can only surmise that later
some of the Saxons worked their way guardedly
up the wide opening while the main body of
their comrades found other ways into this fair
land. Not till the ninth century do we begin
to get any definite record of invasion. Then

THE ESTUARY AND ITS TOWNS

in 832 we find the Vikings, with their long-boats,
hovering about the mouth of the River, landing
in Sheppey and raiding that little island with its
monastery on the hill. They returned in 839;
and in 857 they came with a great fleet of their
long-boats — 350 of them — in order that they
might advance up the River and make an
attack on the city. In 893 they came yet
again, landing either at Milton Creek on the
Swale, or at Milton nearly opposite Tilbury (it
is uncertain which); but the men of London
drove them off. So it went on for many years,
invasion after invasion, till the days of Canute,
when the River played a very great part in
the warfare, now favouring, now hampering the
Danish leaders.

From the time of the Norman Conquest on-
wards there was, of course, nothing in the way
of foreign invasions; and the Thames, ceasing
to be a gateway by means of which the stranger
might enter England, became a barrier impeding
the progress of the various factions opposing
each other in the national struggles — the War
of the Barons, the Wars of the Roses, and the

33 c

FATHER THAMES

great Civil War. In these, however, the Thames
below London played no very great part. Not
till the days of Charles II., when the Dutch
helped to write such a sorry chapter in our
history, did the Thames again loom large in our
military annals.

Sheerness is, of course, the most famous place
on the island, for it has long been a considerable
dockyard and port. The spot on which it was
built was reclaimed from the marshes in the
time of the Stuarts, and was chosen in the days
of Charles II. as the situation for a new dock-
yard. If we turn up the " Diary " of old
Samuel Pepys, the Secretary of the Admiralty
of those days, we shall find under the date of
August 18, 1665: " Walked up and down, laying
out the ground to be taken in for a yard to lay
provisions for cleaning and repairing of ships,
and a most proper place it is for the purpose;"
while on February 27, two years later, His
Majesty was at Sheerness to lay those fortifica-
tions which were destined within less than six
months to be destroyed by the Dutch.

The other important town in Sheppey is

THE ESTUARY AND ITS TOWNS

Queenborough, a well-known packet-station.
Originally this was Kingborough, but it was
rechristened by Edward III. in honour of his
Queen, Philippa, at the time when William
Wykeham (of whose skill as a builder we shall
read in the chapter on Windsor in Book III.)
erected a castle on the spot where the railway-
station now stands. Eastchurch, towards the
other end of the island, developed a splendid
flying-ground during the War.

On the other side of the Medway, forming a
peninsula between that river and the Thames,
lies the Isle of Grain — a place which is not an
island and which has nothing whatever to do
with grain. It consists of a marshy promon-
tory with a packet-station, Port Victoria, and a
seaplane base, Fort Grain, and very little else
beside. At its western extremity is the dirty
little Yantlet Creek, close to which stands the
well-known " London Stone," an obelisk set up
to mark the point where, prior to the Port of
London Act, ended the power of the Lord
Mayor of London in his capacity as Conser-
vator of the Thames.

FATHER THAMES

Westwards from Yantlet Creek are great flats
out of which rise the batteries of Shornemead
and Cliffe, considerable forts designed to serve
with that of Coalhouse Point, opposite on the
Essex shore, as a defence of the River. They
were built in no very remote times, but were
practically never anything else than useless
against modern artillery, and were destined, so
later military engineers said, to do more damage
to each other than to any invading foes.

On the Essex coast, opposite Sheerness, are
two famous places, Southend and Shoeburyness
— the one a famous resort for trippers, the other
an important school of artillery.

Not so very long ago Southend was unheard
of. Defoe, who covered the ground hereabouts
pretty thoroughly, makes no mention of it even
as a hamlet; yet to-day it is a flourishing and
constantly growing town — not so much a water-
ing-place nowadays as a rather distant suburb
of London. For here and in the adjacent
district of Westcliff, now by the builders and
the trams joined on, and even in Leigh still
farther west, live many of London's more sue-

THE ESTUARY AND ITS TOWNS

cessful workers, making the daily journey to
and from town. Nor is this surprising, for
Southend is an enterprising borough — one that
makes the most of its natural advantages, and
endeavours to cater equally well for the residents
and the casual visitors. Of course, the town
will always be associated with day-trippers from
London, folk who come down with their families
to get a " whiff of the briny,' ' and a taste of
the succulent cockles for which Southend is
noted, and to enjoy a ride in one of the numerous
boats, or on the tram that runs along the mile
and a half length of Southend's vaunted pos-
session, the longest pier in England. And while
we laugh sometimes at these trippers with their
ribald enjoyment of strange scenes, we must
admit that they choose a most healthy and
enjoyable place.

At Shoeburyness, approached by way of the
tramcars, things are far more serious. Cockney
joviality seldom gets so far from the pier as this.
Off the land here is a very extensive bank of
shallows, and here the artillerymen carry out
their practice, the advantage being that in

FATHER THAMES

such a spot the costly projectiles fired can be
recovered and put in order for future use.

Canvey Island, which lies tucked away in a
little corner to the west of Leigh, is yet another
example of man's triumph over nature, for it
has veritably been stolen from the waters. It
was reclaimed as long ago as 1622, by one Joas
Cropperburgh, who for his labours received
about two thousand of its six thousand acres.
And Dutch most assuredly Canvey is — with
quaint Dutch cottages, one of them a six-sided
affair, dated 162 1, and set up by the very Dutch-
men who came over to construct the dams, and
with Dutch dykes dividing the fields instead of
hedges. Robert Buchanan, in his novel " An-
dromeda," wrote of it in these terms: "Flat
as a map, so intermingled with creeks and run-
lets that it is difficult to say where water ends
and land begins, Canvey Island lies, a shapeless
octopus, right under the high ground of Ben-
fleet and Hadleigh, and stretches out muddy and
slimy feelers to touch and dabble in the deep
water of the flowing Thames. Away across the
marshes rise the ancient ruins of Hadleigh

THE ESTUARY AND ITS TOWNS

Castle, further eastwards the high spire and
square tower of Leigh Church."

At the village of Benfleet, which he mentions,
the Danes landed when in 874 they made one
of their characteristic raids on the Thames
Estuary; and here they hoarded up the goods
filched from the Essex villages till such time as
there should come a wind favourable for the
journey home.

Like various other places on the Estuary and
the lower reaches of the River, Canvey Island
has on occasions been proposed as a place for
deep-sea wharves, so that unloading might be
carried out without the journey up river, but
so far nothing definite has come of these sug-
gestions.

CHAPTER THREE

The Medway and its Towns

From its position right at the entrance to the
River the Medway tributary has always offered
a considerable contribution to the defence of
London. Going off as it does laterally from the
main stream, the Medway estuary has acted
the part of a remarkably fine flank retreat.
Our forces, driven back at any time to the refuge
of the River, could always split up — part pro-
ceeding up the main stream towards London,
and part taking refuge in the protected network
of waterways behind Sheppey and the Isle of
Grain. So that the indiscreet enemy, chasing
the main portion of the fleet up the estuary of
the River, would always be in danger of being
caught between two fires. Which fact probably
accounts for the tremendous importance with
which the Medway has always been regarded in
naval and military circles.

Passing between the Isle of Grain and Shep-

THE MEDWAY AND ITS TOWNS

pey, and leaving on our left hand the Swale, in
which, so tradition says, St. Augustine baptized
King Ethelbert at Whitsun, 596, and on the
other bank Port Victoria, the packet-station,
we find nothing very striking till we catch sight
of Upnor Castle, on the western bank of the
river, facing the Chatham Dockyard Extension.
This queer old, grey-walled fortress with its
cylindrical towers, built in the reign of Queen
Elizabeth, is not a very impressive place. It
does not flaunt its strength from any impreg-
nable cliff, or even fling defiance from the top
of a little hill. Instead, it lies quite low on the
river bank. Yet it has had one spell of real life
as a fortress, a few days of activity in that
inglorious time with which the tributary will
ever be associated — the days of " the Dutch in
the Medway," when de Ruyter and van Ghent
came with some sixty vessels to the Nore and
in about two hours laid level with the ground
the magnificent and recently-erected fortifica-
tions of Sheerness. This and the happenings
of the next few weeks formed, as old John
Evelyn says in his " Diary," " a dreadfull spec-

FATHER THAMES

tacle as ever Englishman saw, and a dishonour
never to be wiped off \"

In the pages of Charles Macfarlane's story,
" The Dutch in the Medway," is to be found a
most interesting account of these calamitous
days, from which we cull the following extracts :
" On the following morning — the memorable
morning of the 12th of June — a very fresh wind
from the north-east blew over Sheerness and the
Dutch fleet, and a strong spring-tide set the
same way as the wind, raising and pouring the
waters upward from the broad estuary in a
mighty current. And now de Ruyter roused
himself from his inactivity, and gave orders to
his second in command, Admiral van Ghent, to
ascend the river towards Chatham with fire-
ships, and fighting ships of various rates.
Previously to the appearance of de Ruyter on
our coasts, his Grace of Albemarle had sunk a
few vessels about Muscle Bank, at the narrowest
part of the river, had constructed a boom, and
drawn a big iron chain across the river from
bank to bank, and within the boom and chain
he had stationed three king's ships; and having

THE MEDWAY AND ITS TOWNS

done these notable things, he had written to
Court that all was safe on the Medway, and that
the Dutch would never be able to break through
his formidable defences. But now van Ghent
gave his Grace the lie direct; for, favoured by
the heady current and strong wind, the prows
of his ships broke through the boom and iron
chain as though they had been cobwebs, and
fell with an overwhelming force upon the ill-
manned and ill-managed ships which had been
brought down the river to eke out this wretched
line of defence. The three ships, the Unity,
the Matthias, and the Charles V., which had
been taken from the Dutch in the course of the
preceding year — the Annus Mirabilis of Dry den's
flattering poem — were presently recaptured and
burned under the eyes of the Duke of Albe-
marle, and of many thousands of Englishmen
who were gathered near the banks of the
Medway.

" On the following morning (Thursday, the
13th of June) at about ten o'clock, as the tide
was rising, and the wind blowing right up the
river, van Ghent, who had been lying at anchor

FATHER THAMES

near the scene of his yesterday's easy triumph,
unfurled his top-sails, called his men to their
guns, and began to steer through the shallows
for Chatham.

"The mid-channel of the Medway is so deep,
the bed so soft, and the reaches of the river
are so short, that it is the safest harbour in the
kingdom. Our great ships were riding as in a
wet dock, and being moored to chains fixed to
the bottom of the river, they swung up and
down with the tide. But all these ships, as well
as many others of lower rates, were almost
entirely deserted by their crews, or rather by
those few men who had been put in them early
in the spring, rather as watchmen than as
sailors ; some were unrigged, some had never been
finished, and scarcely one of them had either
guns or ammunition on board, although hurried
orders had been sent down to equip some of
them and to remove others still higher up the
river out of the reach of danger.

" It was about the hour of noon when van
Ghent let go his anchor just above Upnor Castle.
But his fire-ships did not come to anchor. No !

THE MEDWAY AND ITS TOWNS

Still favoured by wind and tide, they pro-
ceeded onward, and presently fell among our
great but defenceless ships. The two first of
these fire-ships burned without any effect, but
the rest that went upward grappled the Great
James, the Royal Oak, and the Loyal London,
and these three proud ships which, under other
names, and even under the names they now
bore, had so often been plumed with victory, lay
a helpless prey to the enemy, and were presently
in a blaze.

" Having burned to the water's edge the
London, the James, and the Royal Oak, and some
few other vessels of less note, van Ghent
thought it best to take his departure. Yet,
great as was the mischief he had done, it was
so easy to have done a vast deal more, that
the English officers at Chatham could scarcely
believe their own eyes when they saw him
prepare to drop down the river with the next
receding tide, and without making any further
effort . . . the trumpeters on their quarter
decks playing ' Loth to depart ' and other tunes
very insulting and offensive to English pride."

FATHER THAMES

What shall we say of Chatham, Rochester,
and the associated districts of Stroud and New
Brompton ? It is difficult, indeed, to find a
great deal that is praiseworthy. They may
perhaps still be summed up in Mr. Pickwick's
words: "The principal productions of these
towns appear to be soldiers, sailors, Jews, chalk,
shrimps, officers, and dockyard men."

Formerly the view from the heights of
Chatham Hill must have been a splendid one,
with the broad Medway and its vast marsh-
lands stretching away for miles across to the
wooded uplands of Hoo. Now it appears almost
as if a large chunk of the crowded London
streets had been lifted bodily and dropped
down to blot out the beauties of the scene,
for there is little other to be seen than squalid
buildings huddled together in mean streets,
with just here and there a great chimney-stack
to break the monotony of the countless roofs.

The dockyard at Chatham is much the same
as any other dockyard, and calls for no special
description. From its slips have been launched
many brave battleships, right down from the

THE MEDWAY AND ITS TOWNS

days of Elizabeth to our own times. Here at
all seasons may be seen cruisers, battleships,
destroyers, naval craft of all sorts, dry docked for
refitting. All day long the air resounds to the
noise of the automatic riveter, and the various
sounds peculiar to a shipbuilding area.

For many years the dockyard was associated
with the name of Pett, a name famous in naval
matters, and it was on one member of the
family, Peter Pett, commissioner at Chatham,
that most of the blame for the unhappy De
Ruyter catastrophe most unjustly fell. Some-
body had to be the scapegoat for all the higher
failures, and poor Pett went to the Tower.
But not all people agreed with the choice, as we
may see from these satirical lines which were
very popular at the time:

" All our miscarriages on Pett must fall;
His name alone seems fit to answer all.
Whose Counsel first did this mad War beget ?
Who would not follow when the Dutch were bet ?
Who to supply with Powder did forget
Languard, Sheerness, Gravesend and Upnor ? Pett.
Pett, the Sea Architect, in making Ships
Was the first cause of all these Naval slips;
Had he not built, none of these faults had bin:
If no Creation, there had been no Sin."

FATHER THAMES

"RpcHesl'er C^sl'teT.

THE MEDWAY AND ITS TOWNS

The river here is a very busy place, and is
under certain circumstances quite picturesque.
There is a weird blending of ancient and modern,
of the dimly-comprehended past and the blatant,
commercial present, along Limehouse Reach,
with its tremendous coal-hoists, and its smoking
stacks, and its brown-sailed barges and snorting
tugs — with the great masses of Rochester Castle
and Cathedral looming out behind it all.

Limehouse Reach is, indeed, an appropriate
name, for all along this part, especially in the
suburbs of Stroud and Frindsbury, the lime
and cement-making industries are carried on
extensively. Throughout a great deal of its
length the Medway Valley is scarred by great
quarries cut into the chalk hills ; for it is chalk
and the river mud, mixed roughly in the pro-
portion of three to one and then burned in a
kiln, which give the very valuable Portland
cement, an invention now about a century old.

Rochester itself is a quaint old place, standing
on the ancient Roman road from Dover to
London, and guarding the important crossing
of the Medway. It can show numbers of

49 d

FATHER THAMES

THE MEDWAY AND ITS TOWNS

Roman remains in addition to its fine old
Norman castle, and its Cathedral with a tale
of eight centuries. The town stands to-day
much as it stood when Dickens first described
it in his volumes. The Corn Exchange is still
there — " oddly garnished with a queer old clock
that projects over the pavement out of a grave,
red-brick building, as if Time carried on business
there, and hung out his sign;" and so are Mr.
Pickwick's " Bull Hotel," and the West Gate
(Jasper's Gateway), and Eastbury House (Nuns'
House) of "Edwin Drood"; also the famous
house of the " Seven Poor Travellers."

CHAPTER FOUR

Gravesend and Tilbury

The dreary fenland district which stretches
from the Isle of Grain inland to Gravesend is
that so admirably used by Dickens for local
colour in his novel, " Great Expectations."
Some of his descriptions of the scenery in this
place of " mudbank, mist, swamps, and work "
cannot be bettered.

Here is Cooling Marsh with its quaint, four-
teenth-century relic, Cooling Castle Gatehouse,
built at the time of the Peasants' Revolt, when
the rich folk of the land found it expedient to
do little or nothing to aggravate the peasantry.
The builder, Sir John de Cobham, realizing the
danger, saw fit to attach to one of the towers
of his stronghold a plate, to declare to all
and sundry that there was in his mind no
thought other than that of protection from
some anticipated foreign incursions. This

GRAVESEND AND TILBURY

plate is still in position on the ruin, and

reads :

" Knowyth that beth and schul be
That I am mad in help of the cuntre
In knowyng of whyche thyng
Thys is chartre and wytnessynge."

According to Dr. J. Holland Rose, the
authority on Napoleonic subjects, it was at a
spot somewhere along this little stretch that
Napoleon at the beginning of the last century
proposed to land one of his invading columns.
Other columns would land at various points
on the Essex and Kent coasts, and all would then
converge on London, the main objective. In
fact, the Thames Estuary was such a vulnerable
point that it occupied a considerable position
in the scheme of defence drawn up for Pitt by
the Frenchman Dumouriez.

Gravesend itself from the River is not by any
means an ill-favoured place, despite its rather
commercial aspect. Backed by the sloping
chalk hills, and with a goodly number of trees
breaking up the mass of its buildings, it presents
a tolerably picturesque appearance. Particu-
larly is it a welcome sight to those returning to

FATHER THAMES

England after a long voyage, for it is frequently
the first English town seen at all closely.

At Gravesend the ships, both those going up

GjrdVe^end

and those going down, take aboard their pilots.
The Royal Terrace Pier, which is the most
prominent thing on Gravesend river-front, is

GRAVESEND AND TILBURY

the headquarters of the two or three hundred
navigators whose business it is to pilot ships to
and from the Port of London, or out to sea as
far as Dungeness on the south channel, or
Orfordness, off Harwich, on the north channel.
These men work under the direction of a
"ruler," who is an official of Trinity House, the
corporation which was founded at Deptford
in the reign of Henry VIII. , and which now
regulates lighthouses, buoys, etc.

Gravesend is famous for two delicacies, its
shrimps and its whitebait, and the town pos-
sesses quite a considerable shrimp- fishing fleet.

As in the Medway Valley, the cement works
form a conspicuous feature in the district round
about. In fact, all this stretch, where the chalk
hills crop out towards the River's edge, has been
famous through long years for the quarrying of
chalk and the making of lime, and afterwards
cement. As long ago as Defoe's time we have
that author writing: " Thus the barren soil of
Kent, for such the chalky grounds are esteemed,
make the Essex lands rich and fruitful, and the
mixture of earth forms a composition which out

FATHER THAMES

of two barren extremes makes one prolific
medium; the strong clay of Essex and Suffolk

•A 'Ri^r-sita Cement"'

is made fruitful by the soft meliorating melting
chalk of Kent which fattens and enriches it."
On the Essex coast opposite Gravesend are

GRAVESEND AND TILBURY

the Tilbury Docks and the Tilbury Fort — elo-
quent reminders of the present and the past.
At the Fort the ancient and the new lie in close
proximity, the businesslike but obsolete bat-
teries of modern times keeping company with
the quaint old blockhouse, which at one time
formed such an important point in the scheme
of Thames defence.

This old Tilbury Fort, with its seventeenth-
century gateway, has been so frequently painted
that many folk who have never seen it are quite
familiar with its outline. At the beginning of
the fifteenth century the folk of Tilbury,
realizing how vulnerable their settlement was,
set to work to fortify it, and later Henry VIII.
built a blockhouse here, probably on the site of
an ancient Roman encampment. This, when
the Spanish Armada threatened, was altered
and strengthened by Gianibelli, the clever
Italian engineer. Hither Elizabeth came, and,
so tradition says, made a soul-stirring speech to
her soldiers:

" My loving people, we have been persuaded
by some that are careful of our safety, to take

FATHER THAMES

heed how we commit ourselves to armed mul-
titudes for fear of treachery. But I assure you,
I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and

The Gate-house, Tilbury Fort.

GRAVESEND AND TILBURY

loving people. Let tyrants fear. I have
always so behaved myself that, under God, I
have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard
in the loyal hearts and goodwill of my subjects.
And therefore I am come among you at this
time, not as for any recreation or sport, but
being resolved, in the midst of the heat and
the battle, to live or die amongst you all ; to
lay down for my God, and for my kingdom, and
for my people, my honour and my blood, even
in the dust. I know I have but the body of a
weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart
of a king, and of a king of England, too; and
think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any
prince of Europe, should dare to invade the
borders of my realm. To which, rather than
any dishonour should grow by me, I myself will
take up arms; I myself will be your general,
judge, and re warder of every one of your
virtues in the field."

She had need to feed them on words, for by
reason of her own meanness and procrastination
the poor wretches had empty stomachs, or
would have had if the citizens of London had

FATHER THAMES

not loyally come to the assistance of their
soldiers. In any case Elizabeth's exertion was
quite unnecessary, for the winds and the waves
had conspired to do for England what the
Queen's niggardliness might easily have pre-
vented our brave fellows from doing.

An earlier and no less interesting drama was
enacted at Tilbury and Gravesend in the reign
of Richard II. Close in the train of that
national calamity, the Black Death, came in
not unnatural consequence the outbreak known
as the Peasants' Revolt. Just a short way east
of Tilbury, at a little village called Fobbing,
broke out Jack Straw's rising; and almost simul-
taneously came the outburst of Wat Tyler, when
the Kentish insurgents marched on Canterbury,
plundered the Palace, and dragged John Ball
from his prison ; then moved rapidly across Kent,
wrecking and burning. At Tilbury and Graves-
end these two insurgent armies met, and thence
issued their summons to the King to meet them.
He, brave lad of fifteen, entered his barge with
sundry counsellors, and made his way down-
stream. How he met the disreputable rabble,

GRAVESEND AND TILBURY

and how the peasants were enraged because he
was not permitted to land and come among
them, is a well-known story, as is the furious
onslaught on London which resulted from the
refusal.

Thus far up the River came the Dutch in those
terrible days of which we read in our last chapter.
They sailed upstream on the day of their
arrival, firing guns so that the sound was heard
in the streets of London, but they came to a
halt slightly below the point where the barricade,
running down into the water from the Essex
shore, largely closed up the waterway, and
where the little Fort frowned down on the in-
truders. No attempt was made to stay them;
indeed, none could have been made, for while
the little blockhouse was well provided with
guns, it was practically without powder; and
the invaders could have proceeded right into the
Pool of London without hindrance had they but
known it. However, they were content for the
time being with merely frightening the country-
side with their terrible noise. As Evelyn says
in his " Diary " (June 10) : " The alarm was so

FATHER THAMES

great that it put both country and city into a
panic, fear and consternation, such as I hope
I shall never see more; everybody was flying,
none knew why or whither." Having done this,
the Dutch passed downstream to Sheerness,
where their companions were engaged in de-
stroying the fortifications. How long they
stayed in these parts may be judged by this
other extract from Evelyn, dated seven weeks
after (July 29) : "I went to Gravesend, the
Dutch fleet still at anchor before the river,
where I saw five of His Majesty's men-of-war
encounter above twenty of the Dutch, in the
bottom of the Hope, chasing them with many
broadsides given and returned towards the
buoy of the Nore, where the body of their fleet
lay, which lasted till about midnight. . . .
Having seen this bold action, and their braving
us so far up the river, I went home the next day,
not without indignation at our negligence, and
the Nation's reproach."

In 1904 it was proposed in the House of
Commons that there should be made at Graves-
end a great barrage or dam, right across the

GRAVESEND AND TILBURY

River Thames, with a view to keeping a good
head of water in the stream above Gravesend,
much as the half-tide lock (about which we shall
read in Book III.) does at Richmond. This, the
proposers said, would do away with the cost of
so much dredging, and would make the building
of riverside quays a much simpler and more
satisfactory matter, for by it the whole length
of river between Gravesend and London would
be to all intents converted into one gigantic
dock-basin. It was proposed that the barrage
should have in it four huge locks to cope with
the large amount of shipping, also a road across
the top and a railway tunnel underneath. But
many weighty objections were urged, and
numerous difficulties were pointed out, so that
the scheme fell through; and so far the only
semblance of a barrage known to Gravesend has
been that which was thrown right across the
lower River for defensive purposes during the
Great War.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Marshes

The stretch between Gravesend and the begin-
nings of the Metropolis can scarcely be regarded
as an interesting portion of the River. True,
there are one or two places which stand out
from the commonplace level, but for the most
part there is nothing much to attract; and
certainly from the point of view of the navigator
of big ships there is much in this stretch to
repel, for here are to be found the numerous
shoals which tend to make the passage of the
River so difficult.

Indeed, the problem of the constant filling of
the bed of the River has always been a difficult
one with the authorities. The River brings
down a tremendous quantity of material (it is
estimated that 1,000 tons of carbonate of lime
pass beneath Kingston Bridge each day), and
the tides bring in immense amounts of sand and
gravel. Now, what becomes of all this insoluble

THE MARSHES

material ? It passes on, carried by the stream
or the tidal waters, till it reaches the parts of the
River where the downflowing stream and the
incoming sea-water are in conflict, and so
neutralize each other that there is no great
flow of water. Then, no longer impelled, the
material sinks to the bottom and forms great
banks of sand, etc., which would in time grow
to such an extent that navigation would be
impeded, were not dredgers constantly engaged
in the work of clearing the passage. It was
largely this obstacle to efficient navigation that
led to the creation of the great deep-sea docks at
Tilbury.

Northfleet, formerly a small village straggling
up the side of a chalk hill, is now to all intents
a suburb of Gravesend, so largely has each
grown in recent years. Here, officially at any
rate, are situated (about a mile to the west of
Gravesend proper) those notorious Rosherville
Gardens which in the middle of last century
made Gravesend famous, and provided Lon-
doners with a plausible reason for a trip down
the River. The gardens were laid out in

65 E

FATHER THAMES

1830 to 1835 by one Jeremiah Rosher, several
disused chalk- pits being used for the purpose;
and here the jovial Cockney visitors regaled
themselves within quaint little arbours with
tea and the famous Gravesend shrimps, and
later danced to the light of Chinese lanterns till
it was time to return citywards from the day's
high jinks.

The Dockyard at Northfleet, constructed to-
wards the end of the eighteenth century, was at
one time a place of considerable importance, for
here were built and launched numbers of fine
vessels, both on behalf of the Royal Navy and
of the East India Company. Now it has
dwindled to comparative insignificance. Indeed,
from a shipping point of view, the only interest
lies in the numerous and familiar tan-sailed
barges of the Associated Portland Cement
Manufacturers ; for Northfleet is one of the main
centres of the cement industry so far as the
Thames-side is concerned — an industry which is
in evidence right along this stretch till the
chalk hills end at Greenhithe, the town from
which Sir John Franklin set out in 1845 on

THE MARSHES

his illfated expedition to the North-West
Passage.

At Grays (or Grays Thurrock, as it is more
properly called), on the Essex bank, are numbers
of those curious subterranean chalk caves
which are a feature of most of the chalk uplands
on both sides of the River, and which have
caused so much discussion among the archaeo-
logists. These consist of vertical shafts, 3 or
4 feet in diameter, dug down through anything
from 50 to 100 feet of sand into the chalk below,
where they widen out into caves 20 or more feet
long. As many as seventy-two of them have
been counted within a space of 4 acres in the
Hangman's Wood at Grays. What they were
for no one can tell. All sorts of things have
been conjectured, from the fabulous gold-mines
of Cunobeline to the smugglers' refuges of com-
paratively modern times. One thing is certain:
they are of tremendous age. Probably they
were used by their makers mainly as secret store-
houses for grain. They are commonly called
Dene-holes or Dane-holes, and are said to have
served as hiding-places in that hazardous period

FATHER THAMES

when the Danes made life in the valley anything
but pleasant. But this, while it may have been
true, in no way solves the mystery of their
origin.

Purfleet, especially from a distance, is by no
means unattractive, for quite close to the
station a wooded knoll, quaintly named Botany,
rises from the general flatness, and its greenery,
contrasting strongly with the white of the chalk
pits, lifts the town out of that dreariness,
merging into the positively ugly, which is the
keynote of this part of the River beside the
Long and Fiddler's Reaches. The Government
powder-magazine sets the fashion in beauty
along a stretch which includes lime-kilns,
rubbish heaps of all sorts, and various small and
dingy works. Here at Purfleet (and also at
Thames Haven, lower down the River) have in
recent years been set down great installations
for the storage of petrol and other liquid fuels —
a riverside innovation of great and increasing
importance.

To the west of Purfleet lies a vast stretch of
flats, known as Dagenham Marshes, in many

THE MARSHES

places considerably lower than the level of
the River at high tide, but protected from its
advances by the great river-wall. Apparently
the wall at this spot must have been particu-

larly weak, for right through the Middle Ages
and onwards we find it recorded that great
stretches of the meadows were laid under water
owing to the irruption of the tidal waters into
the wall. There were serious inundations in
1376, 1380, and 1381, when the landowners

FATHER THAMES

combined to effect repairs. Again in 1594 and
1595 there was a serious failure of the dyke>
with the result that the whole adjacent flats were
covered twice a day. Now, this in itself would
not have been so extremely serious; but the
constant passing in and out of the water caused
a deep hole to be washed out just inside the
wall, and made the material bank up and form
a bar on the opposite side of the stream. For
a quarter of a century nothing was done,
but eventually the Dutchman Vermuyden was
called in, and he repaired the wall successfully.
But in the days of Anne came an even more
serious irruption, when the famous Dagenham
breach was formed. One night in the year
1707, owing to the carelessness of the official in
charge, the waters broke the dyke once more,
and swamped an area of a thousand acres or
more, doing a vast deal of mischief. Once
again the danger to navigation occurred, as the
gravel, etc., swept out at each tide, formed a
shoal half-way across the River, and fully a
mile in length. So dangerous, indeed, was it
that Parliament stepped in to find the £40,000

THE MARSHES

needed for the repairs — a sum which the owners
of the land could not have found. The waters
were partially drained off, and the bank re-
paired ; but a very big lake remained behind the
wall, and remains to this day, as most anglers
are aware.

Towards the end of last century a scheme was
set on foot for the construction of an immense
dock here, because, it was urged, the excava-
tions already done by the water would render the
cost of construction smaller. Parliament agreed
to the proposal, and it appeared as if this lonely
part of Essex might become a great commercial
centre ; but the construction of the Tilbury Docks
effectively put an end to the scheme. Now there
is a Dagenham Dock, but it is merely a fair-
sized wharf, engaged for the most part in the
coal trade.

Barking stands on the River Roding, a tribu-
tary which comes down by way of Ongar from
the Hatfield Forest district near Epping, and
which, before it joins the main River, widens out
to form Barking Creek, which was, before the
rise of Grimsby, the great fishing harbour.

FATHER THAMES

Barking is a place of great antiquity, and of
great historic interest, though one would scarcely
gather as much from a casual glance at its very
ordinary streets with their commonplace shops
and rows of drab houses — just as one would
scarcely gather any idea of the charm of the
Roding at Ongar and above from a glimpse of the
slimy Creek. The town, in fact, goes even so far
as to challenge the rival claims of Westminster
and the City to contain the site of the earliest
settlements of prehistoric man along the River
valley. And certainly the earthworks dis-
covered on the north side of the town — fortifica-
tions more than forty acres in extent and quite
probably of Ancient British origin — even if they
do not justify the actual claim, at least support
the town in its contention that it is a place of
great age.

Little or nothing is known, however, till we
come to the time of the foundation of its Abbey
in the year 670. In that year, perhaps by
reason of its solitude out there in the marshes,
the place appealed to St. Erkenwald, the
Bishop of London, as a good place for a

THE MARSHES

monastic institution, and the great Bene-
dictine Abbey of the Blessed Virgin, the first
English convent for women, arose from the
low-lying fenlands, and started its life under
the direction of the founder's sister, St. Ethel-
burgha.

It was destroyed by the Danes when they
ventured up river in the year 870, but was
rebuilt by King Edgar, after lying practically
desolate for a century. By the time of the
Conquest it had become a place of very great
importance in the land, and to it came William
after the treaty with the citizens of London, and
to it he returned when his coronation was over,
and there established his Court till such time as
the White Tower should be finished by the monk
Gundulf and his builders.

Certainly it is a strange commentary on the
irony of Time that this present-day desolation
of drab streets should once have been the centre
of fashion, to which came all the nobles in the
south of England, bringing their ladies fair,
decked out in gay apparel to appear before the
King.

FATHER THAMES

In 1376 the Abbey met with its first great
misfortune. In that year Nature conspired to
the undoing of man's great handiwork on the
River, and the tide made a great breach at
Dagenham, thereby causing the flooding of
many acres of the Abbey lands, and driving the
nuns from their home to higher ground at Bil-
lericay. So much was the prosperity of the
Abbey affected by this disaster that the
Convent of the Holy Trinity, in London,
granted the Abbess the sum of twenty
pounds annually (a large sum in those
days) to help with the reclaiming of the
land.

Now of all the fine buildings of the Abbey
practically nothing is left. At the time of the
Dissolution of the Monasteries it passed into
the King's hands, and was afterwards sold to
Lord Clinton. It has since gone through many
ownerships, but no one has seen fit to preserve
it. So that now practically all we can find
is a sadly disfigured gateway at the entrance to
the churchyard. This was at one time referred
to as the " Chapel of the Holy Rood Loft atte

THE MARSHES

Gate/' but the name was afterwards changed
to the more conveniently spoken " Fire-bell
Gate." Of the actual Abbey buildings nothing
remains.

The London church of All-Hallows, Barking,
standing at the eastern end of Tower Street,
quite close to Mark Lane Station, bears witness
to the privileges and great power of the nunnery
in ancient days, for the church was probably
founded by the Abbey, and certainly the
patronage of the living was in the hands of
the Abbess from the end of the fourteenth
century to the time of the suppression of the
monasteries.

Just to the west of the Creek mouth is the
outfall of the northern drainage system of
London. Vast quantities of sewage are brought
daily, by means of a gigantic concrete outfall
sewer, which passes across the flats from Old
Ford and West Ham to Barking ; and there they
are deposited in huge reservoirs covering ten
acres of ground. The sewage passes through
four great compartments which together hold
thirty-nine million gallons; and, having been

FATHER THAMES

rendered more or less innocuous, is dis-
charged into the Thames at high tide. This
arrangement was one of the chief objec-
tions urged against the great barrage at
Gravesend.

CHAPTER SIX

Woolwich

For many years there was a local saying to
the effect that " more wealth passes through
Woolwich than through any other town in the
world," and, though at first sight this may seem
a gross exaggeration, yet when we remember
that Woolwich is in two parts, one on each side
of the River, we can see at once the justice of
that claim, for it simply meant that all the vast
traffic to and from the Pool of London went
along the Thames as it flowed between the two
divisions of the town.

To-day as we look at the drab, uninteresting
place which occupies the sloping ground ex-
tending up Shooter's Hill and the riverside
extent from Charlton to Plumstead, we find it
difficult to believe that this was ever a place of
such great charm that London folk found in it
a favourite summer-time resort. Yet we have
only to turn up the " Diary " of good old Pepys

FATHER THAMES

to read (May 28, 1667) : " My wife away down
with Jane and Mr. Hewer to Woolwich, in order
to a little ayre, and to lie there to-night, and so
to gather may-dew to-morrow morning, which
Mrs. Yarner hath taught her is the only thing
in the world to wash her face with; and I am
contented with it."

Of course, in those days Woolwich was in the
country, surrounded by fields and woods, in the
latter of which lurked footpads ever ready to
relieve the unwary traveller of his purse. Thus
we have Pepys writing in 1662: " To Deptford
and Woolwich Yard. At night, I walked by
brave moonlight with three or four armed men
to guard me, to Rotherhithe, it being a joy to
my heart to think of the condition that I was
now in, that people should of themselves provide
this for me, unspoke to. I hear this walk is
dangerous to walk by night, and much robbery
committed there"; and again in 1664: "By
water to Woolwich, and walked back from Wool-
wich to Greenwich all alone ; saw a man that had
a cudgel, and though he told me he laboured in
the King's yard, yet, God forgive me ! I did

WOOLWICH

doubt he might knock me on the head behind
with his club."

Even a hundred years ago Woolwich was a
comparatively small place, consisting largely of

Woolwich

the one main street, the High Street, with
smaller ways running down to the river-
side. Shooter's Hill was then merely wild

FATHER THAMES

heathland, ill-reputed as the haunt of high-
waymen.

Yet, for all that, Woolwich has been an im-
portant place through long years, for here have
existed for centuries various Government fac-
tories and storehouses — at first the dockyards,
and afterwards the Arsenal.

Just when the dockyards were founded it is
difficult to say, but it is generally agreed that it
was either at the end of the reign of Henry VII.
or at the beginning of that of Henry VIII.
Certain it is that from the latter's reign down
to the early days of Victoria the dockyard
flourished. From its slips were launched many
of the most famous of the early old " wooden
walls of England " — the Great Harry (after-
wards called the Henry Grace de Dieu), the
Prince Royal, the Sovereign Royal, and also
many of those made famous by the glorious
victories of Drake and Cavendish, and in the
wonderful voyages of Hawkins and Frobisher.
The Sovereign Royal, which was launched in the
time of Charles I., was a fine ship of over 1,600
tons burden, and carried no less than a hundred

WOOLWICH

guns. " This royal ship/' says old Stow, " was
curiously carved, and gilt with gold, so that when
she was in the engagement against the Dutch
they gave her the name of the ' Golden
Devil,' her guns, being whole cannon,
making such havoc and slaughter among
them."

With the passing away of the " wooden walls "
and the advent of those huge masses of steel
and iron which have in modern times taken the
place of the picturesque old " three-deckers,"
Woolwich began to decay as a Royal dockyard ;
for it soon became an unprofitable thing to build
at Thames-side, and the shipbuilding industry
migrated to towns nearer to the coalfields and
the iron-smelting districts.

Yet Woolwich continued, and has continued
right down to this very day, its activities as a
gun-foundry and explosives factory. Just when
this part of the Royal works was founded we do
not know. There is a story extant (and for
years the story was accepted as gospel) to the
effect that the making of the Arsenal was due
entirely to a disastrous explosion at Moorfields

81 f

FATHER THAMES

in the year 1716. Apparently much of the
Government work in those days was put out to
contract, and a certain factory in the Moorfields
area took a considerable share in the work. On
one occasion a very large crowd had assembled
to witness the casting of some new and more up-
to-date guns from the metal of those captured by
the Duke of Marlborough. Just as everything
was ready, a clever young Swiss engineer,
named Schalch, noticed that the material in the
moulds was wet, and he warned the authorities
of the danger. No notice was taken, the
molten metal was poured into the castings, and
there was a tremendous explosion. According
to the story, the authorities were so impressed
by the part which Schalch had played in the
matter that they appointed him to take charge
of a new Government foundry, and gave him the
choice of a site on which to build his new place,
and he chose the Woolwich Warren, slightly to
the east of the Royal Dockyards. This is a
most interesting story, and one with an ex-
cellent moral, no doubt — such a story, in
fact, as would have delighted the heart of

WOOLWICH

old Samuel Smiles; but, unfortunately for
its veracity, there have been discovered at
Woolwich various records which prove the
existence of the Arsenal before Schalch was
born.

In normal times the Arsenal provides em-
ployment for more than eight thousand hands,
but, of course, in war-time this number is
increased tremendously. During the South
African War, for instance, more than twenty
thousand were kept on at full time, and the
numbers during the Great War, when women
were called in to assist and relieve the boys and
men, were even greater.

Of course, we cannot see everything at Wool-
wich Arsenal. There are certain buildings in
the immense area where strangers are never
permitted to go. In these various experi-
ments are being carried out, various new inven-
tions tested, and for this work secrecy is essen-
tial. It would never do for a rival foreign Power
to get even small details of a new gun, or ex-
plosive, or other warlike device. But still there
is much that can be seen (after permission to

FATHER THAMES

visit has been obtained from the War Office) —
remarkable machines which turn out with
amazing rapidity the various parts of cartridges
and shells; giant rolling machines and steam-
hammers that fashion the huge blocks of steel,
and tremendous machines that convert them
into huge guns ; machines by which gun-carriages
and ammunition-waggons are turned out by
the dozen.

Half a century ago there was a great stir at
Woolwich when the Arsenal turned out for the
arming of the good ship Hercules a new gun
known as the " Woolwich Infant." This
weapon, which required a fifty-pound charge of
powder, could throw a projectile weighing over
two hundredweights just about six miles, and
could cause a shell to pierce armour more than
a foot thick at a distance of a mile. Naturally,
folk in those days thought them terrible weapons.
But the " infants " were soon superseded, for
a few years later Woolwich turned out what
were known as " eighty-one-ton guns " — deadly
weapons which could fire a shell weighing twelve
hundred pounds. Folk lifted their hands in

WOOLWICH

surprise at the attainments of those days; but
it is difficult to imagine their amazement if
they could have seen our present-day guns
firing shells thirty miles, or the great " Big
Bertha/' by means of which the Germans fired
shots from a distance of seventy miles into
Paris.

The tremendous guns of to-day are built up,
not cast in moulds all in one piece, as were those
in the early years of the Woolwich foundry.
There is an inner tube and an outer, the latter
of which is shrunk on to the former. The
larger tube is heated, and of course the metal
expands. While it is in that condition the
other is placed inside, and the whole thing is
lowered by tremendous cranes into a big bath
of oil. The metal contracts again as it cools,
and in that way the outer tube is fixed so tightly
against the inner that they become practically
one single tube, but with greatly added
strength. The tube is then carried to a giant
lathe, where it receives the rifling on its inner
surface.

When we turn away from Woolwich it is

FATHER THAMES

perhaps with something like a sigh to think
that men will spend all this money, and devote
all this time and labour and material, merely
in order that they may be able to blow each
other to pieces.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Greenwich

The history of towns no less than the history of
men can tell strange tales of failure and success.
Some have had their era of intoxicating splen-
dour, have been beloved of kings and com-
moners alike, have counted for much in the
great struggles with which our tale is punc-
tuated, and then, their little day over, have
shrunk to the merest vestige of their former
glory. Others, unknown and insignificant
villages throughout most of the story, have
sprung up, mushroom-like, almost in a night,
and entered suddenly and confidently into the
affairs of the nation.

In the former class must, perhaps, be counted
Greenwich. True, it has not had the disastrous
fall, the unspeakable humiliation, of some Eng-
lish towns — Rye and Winchelsea on the south
coast, for instance — yet over Greenwich now

FATHER THAMES

might well be written that word " Ichabod "
"The glory is departed." For Greenwich to-
day, apart from its two places of outstanding
interest, the Hospital and the Park with its
Observatory, is largely an affair of mean streets,
a collection of tiny, uninteresting shops and drab
houses. Yet Greenwich was for long a place of

Greenwich Park.

great fame, to which came kings and courtiers,
for here was that ancient and glorious Palace of
Placentia, a strong favourite with numbers of
our monarchs.

Really it began its life as a Royal demesne in
the year 1443, when the manor was granted to
Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, and permission

GREENWICH

given for the fortification of the building and
enclosing of a park of two hundred acres. The
Duke interpreted his permission liberally, and
erected a new palace, to which he gave the
name of Placentia, the House of Pleasance. He
formed the park, and at the summit of the little
hill, one hundred and fifty feet or more above the
River, constructed a tower on the identical spot
where the Observatory now stands. On Hum-
phrey's death the Crown once more took charge
of the property. Edward IV. spent great sums
in beautifying it, so that it was held in the
highest esteem by the monarchs that followed.
Henry VII. provided it with a splendid brick-
work river-front to increase its comeliness.

Here, in 1491, was born Henry VIII., and
here he married Katherine of Aragon. Here,
too, his daughters, Mary (15 15) and Elizabeth
(1533)> first saw the light. Edward VI., his
pious young son, breathed his last within the
walls.

In those days the River banks did not present
quite the same commercial aspect as in our own
times ; the atmosphere was not quite so befouled

FATHER THAMES

by the smoke of innumerable chimneys, the
water was not quite so muddy; and in conse-
quence the journey by water from the City to
that country place, Greenwich, was a little more
pleasant. Indeed, it is said that the view up-
river from Greenwich Park rivalled that from
Richmond Hill in beauty. In those days all
who could went by water, for the River was the
great highway. Then was its surface gay with
brightly painted and decorated barges, thread-
ing their way downstream among the pic-
turesque vessels of that time.

From Placentia the sovereign could watch
the ever-changing but never-ending pageant of
the River, see the many great ships bringing
in the wealth from all known lands, and watch
the few journeying forth in search of lands as
yet unknown. Thus on one occasion the occu-
pants viewed the departure of three shiploads
of brave mariners setting forth to search for a
new passage to India by way of the Arctic
regions — a scene which old Hakluyt describes
for us: " The greater shippes are towed downe
with boates and oares, and the mariners being

GREENWICH

all apparelled in watchet or skie-coloured cloth
rowed amaine and made with diligence. And
being come neare to Greenwiche (where the
Court then lay) presently upon the newes
thereof the courtiers came running out and the
common people rlockt together, standing very
thicke upon the shoare; the privie counsel they
lookt out at the windowes of the court and the
rest ran up to the toppes of the towers; and
shoot off their pieces after the manner of warre
and of the sea, insomuch that the toppes of
the hilles sounded therewith, the valleys and
the waters gave an echo and the mariners
they shouted in such sort that the skie
rang againe with the noyse thereof. Then it
is up with their sails, and good-bye to the
Thames."

Nor in talking of Greenwich must we forget
the famous Ministerial fish dinners which were
for so many years a great event in the life of the
town. This custom arose, it is said, from the
coming of the Government Commissioners to
examine Dagenham Breach, when they so
enjoyed the succulent fare set before them that

FATHER THAMES

they insisted on an annual repetition, which
function was afterwards transferred to the
" Ship " at Greenwich.

At the toe of the great horseshoe bend which
gives us Millwall and the Isle of Dogs stands
that famous group of buildings known as
Greenwich Hospital, but more correctly styled
the Greenwich Naval College.

This is built on the site of the old Palace.
When, following the Revolution, Charles II.
came to the throne, he found the old place
almost past repair, so he decided to pull it
down and erect a more sumptuous one in its
place. Plans were accordingly drawn up by
the architect, Inigo Jones, and the building
commenced ; but only a very small portion — the
eastern half of the north-western quarter — was
completed during his reign.

It was left to William and Mary, those eager
builders, to carry on the work, which they did
with the assistance of Sir Christopher Wren, to
whose powers of architectural design London
owes so much. Very little was done during the
life of Queen Mary, but as the idea was hers,

GREENWICH

William went on with the work quite gladly, as
a sort of memorial to his wife.

Of course, a very large sum of money was
needed for the erection of such a place. The
King himself provided very liberally — a good
deed in which he was followed by courtiers and
private citizens. But quite a large amount was
found in several very interesting ways. Since
the buildings were designed to provide a kind of
hospital or asylum for aged and disabled seamen
who were no longer able to provide for them-
selves, it was decided to utilize naval funds to
some extent. So money was obtained from
unclaimed shares in naval prize-money, from
the fines which captured smugglers had to pay,
and from a levy of sixpence a month which
was deducted from the wages of all seamen.
Building went on apace, and (to quote Lord
Macaulay) " soon an edifice, surpassing that
asylum which the magnificent Lewis had pro-
vided for his soldiers, rose on the margin of the
Thames. Whoever reads the inscription which
runs round the frieze of the hall will observe that
William claims no part in the merit of the design,

FATHER THAMES

and that the praise is ascribed to Mary alone.
Had the King's life been prolonged till the work

Greenwich Hospital.

was completed, a statue of her who was the real
founder of the institution would have had a

GREENWICH

conspicuous place in that court which presents
two lofty domes and two graceful colonnades
to the multitudes who are perpetually passing
up and down the imperial River. But that part
of the plan was never carried into effect; and
few of those who now gaze on the noblest of
European hospitals are aware that it is a
memorial of the virtues of the good Queen
Mary, and the great victory of La Hogue."

In 1705 the preparations were complete, and
the first pensioners were installed in their new
home. The place was very successful at the
start, and it grew till at the beginning of the
nineteenth century there were nearly three
thousand men residing within the Hospital
walls, and many more boarded out in the town.

Then through half a century the prosperity
of the place began to decline. The old pen-
sioners died off, and the new ones, as they came
along, for the most part preferred to accept out-
pensions and live where they liked. So that
in 1869 it was decided to abandon the place as
an asylum for seamen and convert it into a
Royal Naval College, in which to give training

FATHER THAMES

to the officers of the various branches of the
naval services, and also a Naval Museum and a
Sailors' Hospital.

Perhaps one of the most interesting places in
the College is the Painted Hall, a part of Wren's
edifice, known as King William's Quarter. The
ceilings of this double-decked dining-hall — the
upper part for officers and the lower for seamen
— and the walls of the upper part are decorated
most beautifully with paintings which it took
Sir James Thornhill nineteen years to complete.
Around the walls hang pictures which tell of
England's naval glory — pictures of all sizes
depicting our most famous sea-fights and por-
traying the gallant sailors who won them.
Naturally Lord Nelson is much in evidence here,
and we can see in cases in the upper hall the very
clothes he wore when he received that fatal
wound in the cockpit of the Victory — the scene
of which is depicted on a large canvas on the
walls; also in cases his pigtail, his sword, medals,
and various other relics.

The Museum is a fascinating place, for it con-
tains what is practically a history of our Navy

GREENWICH

set out, not in words in a dry book, but in models
of ships; and we can study the progress right
from the Vikings' long-boats, with their rows
of oars and their shields hanging all round the
sides, down to the massive super-dreadnoughts
of to-day. Most interesting of all, perhaps, are
the great sailing ships — the old " wooden walls
of England " — which did so much to establish
and maintain our position as a maritime nation
— the great three-deckers which stood so high
out of the water, and which with their tall masts
and gigantic sails looked so formidable and yet
so graceful. There in a case is the Great Harry —
named after Henry VIII. — a double-decker of
fifteen hundred tons burden, with three masts,
and carrying seventy- two guns. She was a
fine vessel, launched at Woolwich Dockyard in
1515, and was the first vessel to fire her guns
from portholes instead of from the deck. In
another case is the first steam vessel ever used
in the Navy (1830), and a quaint little craft it is.
This is indeed a splendid collection, and we
feel as if we could spend hours studying these
fascinating little models.

97 G

FATHER THAMES

On the site of Duke Humphrey's tower in
Greenwich Park is the world-famous Observa-

The Royal Observatory.

tory. If you take up your atlas, and look at
the map of the British Isles or the map of
Europe, you will see that the meridian of longi-

GREENWICH

tude (or the line running north and south)
marked O0 passes through the spot where
Greenwich is shown. This means that all places
in Europe to the right or the left — east or west,
that is — are located and marked by their dis-
tance from Greenwich; and, if for no other
reason, this town is because of this fact a very
important place in the world.

The Observatory was founded in the reign
of Charles II. This monarch had occasion
to consult Flamsteed, the astronomer, concern-
ing the simplifying of navigation, and Flamsteed
pointed out to him the need for a correct
mapping-out of the heavens. As a result the
Observatory was built in 1695 in order that
Flamsteed might proceed with the work he had
suggested.

The Duke's tower was pulled down, and the
new place erected; but it was left to Flamsteed
to find his own instruments and pay his own
assistants, all out of a salary of one hundred
pounds per annum. Consequently, he became
so poor that when he died in 1719 his in-
struments were seized to pay his debts. His

FATHER THAMES

successor, Dr. Halley, another famous astrono-
mer, refitted the Observatory, and some of his
instruments can be seen there now, though no
longer in use, of course.

Few people are allowed inside the Observatory
to see all the wonderful telescopes and other
instruments there; but there are several things
to be seen from the outside, notably the time-
ball which is placed on the north-east turret,
and which descends every day exactly at one
o'clock; also the electric clock with its twenty-
four-hours dial.

ioo

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Port and the Docks

Any person standing on London Bridge a couple
of centuries ago would have observed a scene
vastly different from that of to-day. Now we
see the blackened line of wharves and ware-
houses on the two banks, and up against them
steamers discharging or receiving their cargoes,
while out in the stream a few vessels of medium
size and one or two clusters of barges lie off,
awaiting their turn inshore; otherwise the wide
expanse of the stream is bare, save for the
occasional craft passing up and down in the
centre of the stream. But in days gone by, as
we can tell by glancing at the pictures of the
period, the River was simply crowded with
ships of all kinds, anchored closely together
in the Pool, while barges innumerable plied
between them and the shore.

In very early days only Billingsgate and
Queenhithe possessed accommodation for ships

IOI

FATHER THAMES

to discharge and receive their cargoes actually
alongside the quay; for the most part ships
berthed out in the stream, and effected the
exchange of goods by means of barges.

Then, as trade increased by leaps and bounds,
a number of " legal quays " were instituted
between London Bridge and the Tower, and
thither came the major part of the merchandise.
Gradually little docks or open harbours were
cut into the land in order to relieve the Conges-
tion of the quays. Billingsgate was the first
of these, and for many years the most important.
Now the dock has for the most part been filled
in, and over it has been erected the famous fish-
market, which still carries on one of the main
trades of the little ancient dock. Others were
St. Katherine's Dock, a tiny basin formed for
the landing of the goods of the monastery which
stood hard by the Tower; St. Saviour's Dock in
Bermondsey on the Surrey side ; and Execution
Dock close to Wapping Old Stairs.

However, with the tremendous growth of trade
following the Great Fire of London, concerning
which we shall read in Book II., and with the

102

THE PORT AND THE DOCKS

growth in the size of vessels and the consequent
increase in the difficulties of navigation, the
facilities for loading and unloading proved
totally inadequate, and the merchants were led
to protest, on the grounds that the overcrowding
led to great confusion and many abuses, and for

©IulI

%\ 1

' -^ Dept-i

-a %

rord^^(Jreet

w/cA

Woolwich

i. St. Katherine's. 2. London. 3. St. Saviour's. 4. Surrey Commercial.
5. Millwall. 6. West India. 7. East India. 8. Limehouse Basin
9. Victoria. 10. Royal Albert.

Dockland.

a great number of years they entreated Parlia-
ment to take some action.

The coming of the great docks ended the
trouble, and also tremendously changed the
Port of London. When the West India Docks
were opened in 1802, ships concerned with the

103

FATHER THAMES

transport of certain articles of commerce were
no longer allowed to lie in the Pool for the pur-
pose of discharge: they were compelled to go
to the particular dock-quays set aside for their
use, and to land there the merchandise they
carried. Thus practically at a stroke of the pen
the riverside wharves lost their entire traffic in
such things as sugar, rum, brandy, spices, and
other goods from the West Indies. Similarly,
when the East India Docks were opened all
the commerce of the East India Company was
landed there. Thus, gradually, as the various
larger docks were made from time to time, the
main business of the Port shifted eastwards to
Millwall, Blackwall, etc. Nor did it stop there.
With the coming of ships larger even than those
already catered for, it became necessary to do
something to avoid the passage of the shallow,
winding reaches above Gravesend, and, in con-
sequence, tremendous docks were opened at
Tilbury. So that now vessels of the very
deepest draught enter and leave the docks in-
dependent of the tidal conditions, and do not
come within many miles of London Bridge.

104

THE PORT AND THE DOCKS

This does not mean that the riverside wharves
and warehouses were rendered useless by the
shifting of the Port. So great had been the
congestion that even with the relief of the new
docks there was still — and there always has
been — plenty for them to do. To-day there are
miles of private wharves in use: from Black-
friars down to Shadwell the River is lined with
them on both sides all the way; and they share
with the great docks and dock warehouses the
vast trade of the Port of London.

Let us take a short trip down through dock-
land, and see what this romantic place has to
show us. We must go by water. That is
essential if we are to see anything at all, for
so shut in is the River by tall warehouses, etc.,
that we might wander for hours and hours in
the streets quite close to the shore, and yet never
catch a glimpse of the water.

Leaving Tower Bridge, we find immediately
on our left the St. Katherine's Docks. These
get their name from the venerable foundation
which formerly stood on the spot. This reli-
gious house was created and endowed by Maud

105

FATHER THAMES

of Boulogne, Queen of Stephen, and lasted
through seven centuries down to about a
hundred years ago. It survived even the Dis-
solution of the Monasteries, which swept away
all other London foundations, being regarded as
more or less under the protection of the Queen.
Yet this wonderful old foundation, with its
ancient church, its picturesque cloisters and
schools, its quaint churchyard and gardens — one
of the finest mediaeval relics which London pos-
sessed— was completely destroyed to make way
for a dock which could have been constructed
just as well at another spot. London knows no
worse example of needless, stupid, brutal van-
dalism ! St. Katherine's Dock is concerned
largely with the import of valuable articles:
to it come such things as China tea, bark, india-
rubber, gutta-percha, marble, feathers, etc.

London generally is the English port for tea :
hither is brought practically the whole of the
country's consumption. During the War efforts
were made to spread the trade more evenly over
the different large ports ; but the experiment was
far from a success. All the vast and intricate

106

THE PORT AND THE DOCKS

organization for blending, marketing, distrib-
uting, etc., is concentrated quite close to St.
Katherine's Dock, and in consequence the
trade cannot be managed so effectively else-

where. The value of the tea entering the Port
of London during 19 13, the year before the War,
and therefore the last reliable year for statistics,
was nearly £13,500,000.

107

FATHER THAMES

A little below St. Katherine's, on the Surrey
shore, is one of the curiosities of dockland — a
dock which nobody wants. This is St. Saviour's
Dock, Bermondsey — a little basin for the recep-
tion of smaller vessels. It is disowned by all —
by the Port of London Authority, by the
Borough Council, and by the individual firms
who have wharves and warehouses in the
vicinity. You see, there is at one part of the
dock a free landing-place, to which goods may
be brought without payment of any landing-
dues; and no one wants to own a dock without
full rights. Shackleton's Quest berthed here
while fitting out for its long voyage south.

From St. Katherine's onward for several miles
the district on the north bank is known as
Wapping. This was for many years the most
marine of all London's riverside districts. Ad-
joining the Pool, it became, and remained
through several centuries, the sojourning-place
of " those who go down to the sea in ships."
Here, at famous Wapping Old Stairs or one of
the other landing-steps which ran down to
the water's edge at the various quay-ends, Jack

108

^^^j^^^^^agff 'hi, ijp

Entrance to
Wapping
Old Stairs.

109

FATHER THAMES

said good-bye to his sweetheart as he jumped
into one of the numerous watermen's boats, and
was rowed to his ship lying out in the stream;
here, too, there waited for Jack, as he came home
with plenty of money, all those crimps and
vampires whose purpose it was to make him
drunk and rob him of all his worldly goods.
Harbouring, as it did, numbers of criminals of
the worst type, Wapping for many years had
a very bad name. Now all that has changed.
The shifting of the Port deprived the sharks of
their victims, for the seamen no longer congre-
gated in this one area: they came ashore at
various points down the River. Moreover, the
making of the St. Katherine and later the
London Docks cut out two big slices from the
territory, with a consequent destruction of mean
streets.

Close to Wapping Old Stairs was the famous
Execution Dock. This was the spot where
pirates, smugglers, and sailors convicted of
capital crimes at sea, were hanged, and left on
the foreshore for three tides as a warning to all
other watermen. Now, with the improvements

THE PORT AND THE DOCKS

at Old Gravel Lane, all traces have vanished,
and the wrongdoers no longer make that last
wretched journey from Newgate to Wapping,
no longer stop half-way to consume that bowl
of pottage for which provision was made in
the will of one of London's aldermen.

The goods which enter London Dock are of
great variety — articles of food forming a con-
siderable proportion.

Limehouse follows on the northern shore, and
is perhaps, even more than Wapping, the
marine district of these days. Here, in a place
known as the Causeway, is the celebrated
Chinese quarter. Regent's Canal Dock, which
includes the well-known Limehouse Basin, a
considerable expanse of water, is the place where
the Regent's Canal begins its course away to
the midlands. The chief goods handled at
Limehouse Basin were formerly timber and coal,
but since the War this has become the centre
for the German trade. Here are frequently to
be seen most interesting specimens of the
northern " wind-jammers."

Leaving Limehouse, the River sweeps away
in

FATHER THAMES

southwards towards Greenwich, and then turns
sharply north again to Blackwall. By so doing
it forms a large loop in which lies the peninsula
known as the Isle of Dogs — a place which has
been reclaimed from its original marshy con-
dition, and covered from end to end with docks,
factories, and warehouses, save at the southern-
most extremity, where the London County
Council have made a fine riverside garden. In
the Isle are to be found the great West India
Docks and the Millwall Docks. The former
receive most of the furniture woods — mahogany,
walnut, teak, satin-wood, etc. — and also rum,
sugar, grain, and frozen meat; while the latter
receive largely timber and grain.

On the Surrey side of the River, practically
opposite the West India and Millwall Docks,
are the Surrey Commercial Docks, occupying the
greater portion of a large tongue of land in
Rotherhithe. To these docks come immense
quantities of timber, grain, cattle, and hides —
the latter to be utilized in the great tanning
factories for which Bermondsey is famous.

Blackwall, the last riverside district within

112

THE PORT AND THE DOCKS

the London boundary, is famous for its tunnel,
which passes beneath the bed of the River to
Greenwich. This is but one of a number of
tunnels which have been made beneath the
stream in recent years. There is another for
vehicles and passengers passing across from
Rotherhithe to Limehouse, while further up-
stream are those utilized by the various tube-
railways in their passage from north to south.

Blackwall has a number of docks, large and
small. Among the latter are several little dry-
docks which exist for the overhauling and repair-
ing of vessels. There was a time when ship-
building and ship-repairing were considerable
industries on the Thames-side, when even
battleships were built there, and thousands of
hands employed at the work; but the trade has
migrated to other dockyard towns, and all that
survive now are the one or two repairing docks
at Blackwall and Millwall.

The Royal Albert and the Victoria Docks
come within the confines of those great new
districts, West Ham and East Ham, which
have during the last thirty or forty years

113 H

FATHER THAMES

sprung up, mushroom-like, from the dreary flats
of East London. Here are such well-known
commercial districts as Silvertown and Canning
Town. The former will doubtless be remem-
bered through many years for the tremendous
explosion which occurred there during the War
— an explosion which resulted in serious loss of
life and very great damage to property. It is
also famous for several great factories, notably
Messrs. Knight's soap-works, Messrs. Henley's
cable and general electrical works, and Messrs.
Lyle's (and Tate's) sugar refineries. These
places, which employ thousands of hands, are
of national importance.

Canning Town has to some extent lost its
prestige, for it was in time past the shipbuilding
area. Here were situated the great Thames
Ironworks, carrying on a more or less futile
endeavour to compete with the Clyde and other
shipbuilding districts.

This district is, to a large extent, the coal-
importing area. Coal is the largest individual
import of the Port of London, as much as eight
million tons entering in the course of a year.

114

THE PORT AND THE DOCKS

The chief articles of commerce with which the
Royal Albert and Victoria Docks are concerned
are: Tobacco, frozen meat, and Japanese pro-
ductions.

Vast, indeed, have been the revenues drawn
from the various docks. You see, goods are not
entered or dispatched except on payment of
various dues and tolls, and these amount up
tremendously. So that the Dock Companies
get so much money from the thirty miles of
dockside quays and riverside wharves that they
scarcely know what to do with it, for the amount
they can pay away in dividends to their share-
holders is strictly limited by Act of Parliament.
In one year, for instance, so large a profit was
made by the owners of the East and West India
Docks that they used up an enormous sum of
money in roofing their warehouses with sheet

copper.

*****

In concluding our rapid tour through dock-
land, it is impossible to omit a reference to the
Customs Officers — those cheery young men who
work in such an atmosphere of unsuspected

ii5

FATHER THAMES

romance. To spend a morning on the River with
one of them, as he goes his round of inspection
of the various vessels berthed out in the stream,
is a revelation. To visit first this ship and then
the other; to see the amazing variety of the
cargoes, the number of different nationalities
represented, both in ships and men ; to come into
close touch with that strange and little-under-
stood section of the community, the lightermen,
whose work is the loading of the barges that
cluster so thickly round the great hulls — is to
move in a world of dreams. But to go back to
the Customs Offices and see the huge piles of
documents relating to each single ship that
enters the port, and to be informed that on an
average two hundred ocean-going ships enter
each week, is to experience a rude awakening
from dreams, and a sharp return to the very
real matters of commercial life.

Nor must we forget the River Police, who
patrol the River from Dartford Creek up as far
as Teddington. As we see them in their
launches, passing up and down the stream, we
may regard their work as easy; but it is any-

116

Hbme^rom% Indies.

A Gi^nl^liner ^ ™

v/eo»pin£ intcf^e QeorjSe V . 'Dock^.%

TT7

FATHER THAMES

thing but that — especially at night-time. Then
it is that the river-thieves get to work at their
nefarious task of plundering the valuable cargoes
of improperly attended lighters. The River
Police must be ever on the alert, moving about
constantly and silently, lurking in the shadows
ready to dash out on the unscrupulous and dan-
gerous marauders. The headquarters of the
River Police are at Wapping, but there are
other stations at Erith, Blackwall, Waterloo,
and Barnes.

In 1903 the question of establishing one
supreme authority to deal with all the diffi-
culties of dockland and take control of practi-
cally the whole of the Port of London was dis-
cussed in Parliament, and a Bill was introduced,
but owing to great opposition was not pro-
ceeded with. However, the question recurred
from time to time, and in 1908 the Port of
London Act was at length passed.

This established the Port of London Author-
ity, for the purpose of administering, preserv-
ing, and improving the Port of London. The
limits of the Authority's power extend from

118

THE PORT AND THE DOCKS

Teddington down both sides of the River to a
line just east of the Nore lightship. At its in-
ception the Authority took over all the duties,
rights, and privileges of the Thames Conser-
vancy in the whole of this area.

119

L H5.W Pi

BOOK II

LAMBETH PALACE

LAM8FT/i

Sr THOMAS 3 HOSPITAL WES TWIN STEP
BRIDG-E

CLOCK TOWER
& BIG BEN

Reproduced from photographs by permission of Airco Aerials, Ltd.

120

THE GREAT CITY WHICH THE RIVER MADE

817/ OCc: VICTORIA TOWER 5? JOHNS CHHHCH

4 ^^m^mm^^k^:^^^W^<

WE5TMIN5TER SrMAHGAH£T$ WESTMINSTER
HALL CHURCH ABBEY

MIDDLESEX-
GUILDHALL

Reproduced from photographs by permission of Airco Aerials, Ltd.

121

The London County Hall.
122

THE GREAT CITY
WHICH THE RIVER MADE

CHAPTER ONE

How the River founded the City

England at the time when London first came
into being was a very different place from the
well-cultivated country which we know so well.
Where now stretch hundreds of square miles of
orderly green meadows and ploughed fields,
divided from each other by trim hedges, or
pretty little copses, or well-kept roads, there was
then a vast dense forest, wherein roamed wolves
and other wild animals, and into which man
scarcely dared to penetrate. This stretched
from sea to sea, covering hill and valley alike.
Just here and there could be found the tiny
settlements of the native Britons, and in some
few cases these settlements were joined by rough
woodland tracks.

The only real breaks in this widespread
123

FATHER THAMES

covering of green occurred where the rivers
flowed seawards along the valleys. These
rivers for the most part ran their courses in
practically the same directions as at present,
but in appearance they were very different
from the rivers we know to-day. No man-
made embankments kept them in place in those
days; instead they wandered through great
stretches of marsh and fenland, and spread out
into wide, shallow pools here and there in their
courses, so that to cross them was a matter of
the greatest difficulty.

Such was the Thames when the first " Lon-
doners " formed their tiny settlement. From
the mouth of the River inland for many miles
stretched widespread, impassable marshes; but
at one spot — where now stands St. Paul's
Cathedral — there was a firm gravel bank and a
little hill (or rather two little hills with a stream
between), which stood out from the encom-
passing wastes. In front of this small eminence
stretched a great lagoon formed by the over-
flowing of the River at high tide. This covered
the ground on which have since been built

124

HOW THE RIVER FOUNDED THE CITY

Southwark and Lambeth, and stretched south-
wards as far as the heights of Sydenham. West
of the little hill, running down a deep ravine,
where now is the street called Farringdon Street,
was a tributary river, afterwards known as the
Fleet; and beyond that yet another great
marshland stretched away over Westminster,
Belgravia, Chelsea, and Fulham. To the north
was the pathless forest.

This then appealed to the intelligence of a
few Ancient Britons as an ideal spot for a settle-
ment, and so sprang into existence Llyndin, the
lake-fortress.

But that, of course, did not make London,
did not raise London to the position of pre-
eminence which it gradually attained, and which
it has held almost without contest through so
many centuries.

Between the time of the formation of this
little collection of huts with its slight protecting
stockade and the coming of the Romans much
happened. The Ancient Britons learned to
make roads — primitive ones, of course — and in
all probability they learned to make embank-

125

FATHER THAMES

ments to the River. Their greatest trade
naturally was with Gaul — France, that is — and
also, equally naturally, practically all such
trade had to come through the one most suitable
way, the spot which has always, through all the
ages, been the gateway into England — Dover.
In the days when sea-going craft had not
reached a high stage of perfection it was neces-
sary to choose the shortest passage across the
channel, and, though no doubt other ports were
used, undoubtedly the bulk of the merchandise
came across the narrow Straits. This meant,
without a doubt, an important road going north-
westwards towards the centre of England.

Now right across the country, from west to
east, stretched the great natural barrier, the
River, effectively cutting off all intercourse
between the south of England and the Midlands
and north; and at some place or other this road
(afterwards known as Watling Street) had to
cross the barrier. It was inevitable that the spot
where this crossing was effected should be, both
from a military and a commercial point of
view, a place of the very greatest importance.

126

HOW THE RIVER FOUNDED THE CITY

In the earliest days the road skirted the south
side of the marshes facing Llyndin, and passed on
to the ford (or ferry) at Westminster, and thence
on to Tyburn. But Llyndin was growing in
strength, and the need of a lower crossing was
probably soon felt by the inhabitants of the
little hill. Now lower crossings of the River
were by no means simple. As we said just now,
right from the mouth westwards till we reach
the spot where London now stands there was
simply a great collection of marshes and fens.
Here and there, on both banks, tiny patches of
firmer soil jutted out from the impassable
wastes — the spots where Purfleet and Grays
now stand on the north side, the sites of Graves-
end, Greenhithe, Erith, Woolwich, and Green-
wich, on the south side; but in each of these
cases the little gravel bed or chalky bank was
faced on the opposite shore by the dreary flats
(an ordinary natural happening caused by the
washing away of the banks, to be seen in any
little stream that winds in and out), so that
never was there any possibility of linking up
north and south.

127

FATHER THAMES

Only when the little hill at the junction of the
River Thames with the River Lea, somewhere
about sixty miles from the open sea, was
reached could any such crossing be made. We
said that in the earliest days of London there
was, facing the hill, a great flat which at high
tide became a wide lagoon, stretching south-
wards to Sydenham. Now this was quite
shallow; moreover, a long tongue of fairly firm
gravel ran right out northwards from the firmer
ground till it came to a point nearly opposite the
Llyndin Hill. This firm bed enabled the Britons
to lay down, across the marsh, some sort of a
road or causeway joining up with the main Kent
road, and so gave them another lower and
practicable crossing of the River, which, of
course, meant a shorter road to the Midlands
and the north.

This crossing — in all probability a ferry — laid
the foundation-stone of the prosperity of London
town, and the building of the first bridge
cemented that foundation.

Why ? Simply because such a bridge, in
addition to being a passage across the River,

128

HOW THE RIVER FOUNDED THE CITY

became a barrier to any passage up and down
the stream. Bridge-building was not at a very
advanced stage, and, of necessity, the arches
were small and narrow. This effectively
stopped traffic passing up from the seaward side.
On the other hand, the small arches meant a
very great current, and this, with any con-
siderable tide, rendered the " shooting " of the
bridge by smaller boats an extremely dangerous
affair: thus traffic from the landward side came
to a standstill at the bridge.

This meant that ships, bringing goods up the
River from the sea, must stop at the bridge and
discharge their cargoes : also that goods, coming
from inland to go to foreign parts, must of
necessity be transhipped at London. It was
inevitable, therefore, that once the bridge was
in position a commercial centre must arise on
the spot, and almost certain that in time a great
port would grow into being. So that we may
say quite truly that the Thames founded London.

129

CHAPTER TWO

How the City grew [Roman Days)

Who built the first bridge ? We cannot say for
certain ; but it is fairly safe for us to assume that
the Romans shortly after their arrival in Llyn-
din set to work to make a strong wooden military
bridge to link up the town with the important
road from Dover. Thousands of Roman coins
have been recovered from the bed of the Thames
at this spot, and we may quite well suppose that
the Roman people dropped these through the
cracks as they crossed the roughly constructed
bridge.

This bridge established London once and for
all. Previously there had been the two ferries
— that of Thorney (Westminster) and that of
Llyndin Hill, each with its own growing settle-
ment. Either of these rivals might have
developed into the foremost city of the valley.
But the building of the bridge definitely settled
the question and caused the diversion of Wat-

130

HOW THE CITY GREW (ROMAN DAYS)

ling Street to a course across the bridge, through
the settlement, out by way of what was after-
wards Newgate, and on to Tyburn, where the
old way was rejoined.

Having built the bridge, they set to work to
make of London a city, as they understood it.
In all probability it was quite a flourishing place
when they found it. But the Romans had their
own thoughts about building, their own ideas of
what a city should be. First, they built a
citadel. The original British stockade stood on
the western hummock of the twin hill, so the
Romans chose the eastern height for their
defences. This citadel, or fortress, was a large
and powerful one, with massive walls which
extended from where Cannon Street Station
now is to where Mincing Lane runs. Inside it
the Roman soldiers lived in safety.

Gradually, however, the fortress ceased to be
necessary, and a fine town spread out beyond
its walls, stretching as far eastwards and west-
wards as Nature permitted; that is, to the
marshes on the east and to the Fleet ravine on
the west. In this space were laid out fine

131

FATHER THAMES

streets and splendid villas and public buildings.
Along the banks of the River were built quays
and river walls ; and trade increased by leaps and
bounds.

Nor was this all. The Romans, as you have
probably read, made magnificent roads across
England, and London was practically the hub
of the series, which radiated in all directions.
The old British road through Kent became the
Praetorian Way (afterwards the diverted Wat-
ling Street), and passed through the city to the
north and west. Another, afterwards called
Ermyn Street, led off to Norfolk and Suffolk.
Yet another important road passed out into
Essex, the garden of England in those days.

" How do we know all these things ?" you
ask. Partly by what Roman writers tell us, and
partly by all the different things which have been
brought to light during recent excavations.
When men have been digging the foundations
of various modern buildings in different quarters
of London, they have discovered the remains of
some of these splendid buildings — all of them
more or less ruined (for a reason which we shall

132

HOW THE CITY GREW (ROMAN DAYS)

see later), but a few in good condition. Fine
mosaic pavements have been laid bare in one or
two places — Leadenhall Street for one; and all
sorts of articles — funeral urns, keys, statues,
ornaments, domestic utensils, lamps, etc. — have
been brought to light, many of which you can
still see if you take the trouble to visit the

ROMAN m

Guildhall Museum and the London Museum.
In a court off the Strand may still be seen an
excellent specimen of a Roman bath.

But perhaps the most interesting of all the
Roman remains are the two or three fragments
of the great wall, which was not built till some-
where between the years 350 and 365 a.d. At

133

FATHER THAMES

this time the Romans had been in occupation
for several hundred years, and the city had
spread quite a distance beyond the old citadel
walls. The new wall was a splendid one,
twenty feet high and about twelve feet thick,
stretching for just about three miles. It ran
along the river front from the Fleet River to the
corner where the Tower stands, inland to
Bishopsgate and Aldersgate, then across to
Newgate, where it turned south again, and came
to the River not far from Blackfriars.

Several fine sections of the ancient structure
can still be seen in position. There is a large
piece under the General Post Office yard, an-
other fine piece in some wine cellars close to
Fenchurch Street Station, a fair piece on Tower
Hill, and smaller remnants in Old Bailey and
St. Giles' Churchyard, Cripplegate.

What do these fragments teach us ? That
things were not all they should be in London.
Instead of being built with the usual care of
Roman masonry, with properly quarried and
squared stones, this wall was made up of a
medley of materials. Mixed in with the proper

134

HOW THE CITY GREW (ROMAN DAYS)

blocks were odd pieces of buildings, statues,
columns from the temples, and memorials from
the burying grounds. Probably the folk of

Bastion of Roman Wall, Cripplegate Churchyard.

London, feeling that the power of Rome was
waning, were stricken with panic, and so set
to work hurriedly and with such materials

135

FATHER THAMES

as were to hand to put together this great
defence.

Nor were they unwise in their preparations,
for danger soon began to threaten. From time
to time there swooped down on the eastern
coasts strange ships rilled with fierce warriors —
tall, fair-haired men, who took what they could
lay their hands on, and killed and burned un-
sparingly. So long as the Roman soldiers were
there to protect the land and its people, nothing
more happened than these small raids. The
strangers kept to the coasts and seldom at-
tempted to penetrate up the river which led to
London.

But these coast raids only heralded the great
storm which was approaching, for the daring
sea-robbers had set covetous eyes on the fair
fields of Britain.

136

CHAPTER THREE

How the City grew {Saxon Days)

In the year 410 the Romans were compelled to
leave Britain. Troubles had become so great in
Rome itself that it was necessary to abandon all
the outlying colonies to their fate. From that
moment began a century and a half of pitiful
history for our country. There was now no
properly drilled army to ward off attacks; and
the raids of the " sea-robbers " increased in
number and intensity. Saxons, Angles, and
Jutes, they came in vast numbers, gradually
working their way inland from the coast.

And what happened to Londinium, as the
Romans called our city ? We do not know, for
there is a great gap in our history; probably it
perished of starvation. We know that little by
little the strangers increased their grip — the
Jutes in Kent and Hampshire (and later in
Surrey), the Saxons in Kent, Essex, and Sussex;

137

FATHER THAMES

and that as they did so London was gradually
surrounded.

Now London was a comparatively large place,
with a considerable population, even after the
Romans had gone; and the slow tightening of
the Saxon grip must have meant starvation, for
everything London wanted for its use came from
a distance, owing to the impossibility of growing
anything in the surrounding marshy districts.
And in the absence of any reliable account we
can only assume that in consequence the inhabi-
tants little by little deserted the city, and made
their way westwards; that the quays were
deserted, the ships rotted at their moorings, the
finely constructed streets were befouled with
grass and briars, the splendid villas fell to pieces,
the great wall in places crumbled to ruins. So
that when eventually the Saxons did reach
London, after years of struggle and fierce en-
gagements, their victory was a hollow one.
And there is much to support this assumption,
for we find that in their chronicles the Saxons
make practically no mention of the first city of
the land, which they most assuredly would have

138

HOW THE CITY GREW (SAXON DAYS)

done had it been anything other than derelict.
Nor did they stay at London when they arrived.
Probably such a place of desolation was of no
use to them; they were not interested in ruined
cities; they wanted open ground with growing
crops. So they passed on, and London prob-
ably stood silent and dead for years, the empty
skeleton of a city, while Time and Nature com-
pleted the ruin which savage assaulters might
otherwise have carried out. Thus we may con-
jecture ended the first of London's three lives.

When, after a time, things settled down in
Britain, a new London began to rise on the site
of the old city. Gradually the folk, mainly the
East Saxons, settled on the outskirts of the
deserted city, and, little by little, they made
their way within the old walls; numbers of the
old fugitives crept back to join them; merchants
came and patched up the broken, grass-grown
quays; houses were built; and life began anew.
Steadily the progress continued. At first the
houses were rough wattle-and-mud affairs, set
down in any fashion on the old sites, but grad-
ually proper rows of small, timbered houses rose

139

FATHER THAMES

on all sides, with numbers of little churches
dotted here and there.

Then at the end of the eighth century the old
trouble, invasion, began again. This time it
was the Vikings (or Danes), the adventurous
spirits of the fiords of Norway and the coasts of
Denmark, men who risked the terrors of the
hungry North Sea that they might plunder the
monasteries and farms of the north and east of
England. They, too, found our country a fair
place, after their own cold, forbidding coasts;
and the raids increased in frequency.

In the year 832 they were at the mouth of the
Thames, landing in Sheppey; and in 839 came
their first attempt to sail up the Thames. They
were beaten off this time, but they had learned
of a proper entry to which they might return
later. In 851 came their great attempt. With
three hundred and fifty of their long-ships they
came, sailed right up the River to London Bridge,
stormed and plundered the city. But their
triumph was short-lived, for their army was well
beaten at Ockley in Surrey, as it made its way
southward down the Stane Street.

140

HOW THE CITY GREW (SAXON DAYS)

It seemed as if England and London might be
tranquil once more; but the Vikings came in
still greater numbers, and began to winter in
our land instead of returning as had been their
custom. The record of the next twenty years
is one of constant harrying, with great armies
marching throughout the countryside — plunder-
ing, killing, burning, with apparently no object.

When Alfred came to the throne, London was
practically a Danish city; but he soon set to
work and drove them out. And, though Eng-
land suffered long and often from these foes,
from that time onwards, the fortress being
rebuilt, London never again fell to the invaders.
When, eventually, Canute did enter London in
1017, after a considerable but entirely unsuccess-
ful siege, it was at the invitation of the citizens,
who accepted him as their King.

Under this wise King followed an era of pros-
perity for the growing city. Danish merchants
settled within its walls; the wharves were busy
once again; foreign traders sailed up the River
to Billingsgate, their boats laden with wine,
cloth, and spices from the East; and so rapidly

141

FATHER THAMES

London became once more a great commercial
centre. Indeed, such was its size and import-
ance that it paid one-fifth of the whole tax
which Canute levied on the kingdom.

From this time onward London progressed
steadily; and so, too, did that other city, West-
minster, which had sprung into being at
another crossing, a few miles higher up the
Thames — one more city made by the River, as
we shall see later on.

142

CHAPTER FOUR

How the City grew (Norman Days)

The year 1066 was yet another fateful year for
the people of England and the citizens of London.
When William of Normandy defeated Harold
at Senlac, near Hastings, many of the English

THE CONQUEROR'S MARCH
. OM LONDOM

fled to London, prepared to join the citizens in a
stout defence of their great city; but no such
defence was necessary.

William skirted the dense forest of Andredes-
wealde, and, striking the main road at Canter-

143

FATHER THAMES

bury, progressed to Southwark, which he
destroyed. Now, good soldier and wise man
that he was, William saw that a definite attack
on London would be a difficult matter, and
would profit him nothing. So he set to work
to do what others had done before him — to cut
off the city from its supplies. Marching west-
wards, he made his way to the crossing at
Wallingford, and there reached the north bank
of the River. Striking north-east again, he came
soon to Watling Street once more, and thus cut
off all the northern trade. London was in this
way cut off from practically the bulk of its
supplies; and the citizens were glad to make
terms before worse things happened.

Probably the surrender occurred sooner than
it might otherwise have done, by reason of the
exceedingly mixed nature of the population.
London counted among its citizens, as we can
tell by reference to the documents of the time,
merchants from many different parts of France
— Caen and Rouen in particular — and from
Flanders and Germany.

William kept loyally to the promises which
144

HOW THE CITY GREW (NORMAN DAYS)

he had made in the treaty, maintaining the
rights of the city, and seeing that the thirty or
forty thousand citizens had the proper protec-
tion he guaranteed. True, he built the great
threatening Tower of London, about which we
shall read in another chapter, but it is very
probable that even in that the citizens saw only
a strengthening of the old bastions built in
former days for the guarding of the city.

Practically all our knowledge of London life
in Norman days comes to us from the writings
of one FitzStephen, a faithful clerk in the
service of Thomas Becket. FitzStephen, who
was present at the Archbishop's murder, wrote
a life of his master, and prefaced it with a short
account of the city. From his description we
learn much of interest. We gather that,
besides the great Cathedral, there were thirteen
large churches and one hundred and twenty-six
smaller parish churches; that the walls pro-
tected the city on all sides save the river front,
where they had been pulled down to make room
for wharves and stores. Says FitzStephen:
" Those engaged in the several kinds of business,

145 K

FATHER THAMES

sellers of various things, contractors for various
works, are to be found every morning in their
different districts and shops. Besides there
is in London, on the river bank, among the
wines in ships, and in cellars sold by the vint-
ners, a public food shop; there meats may be
found every day, according to the season, fried
and boiled, great and small fish, coarsest meats
for the poor, more dainty for the rich." He
also has much to tell us about the sports, which
included archery, leaping, wrestling, and foot-
ball. " In Easter holidays they fight battles
on the water. A shield is hung upon a pole in
mid-stream, a boat is made ready, and in the
forepart thereof standeth a youth, who chargeth
the shield with a lance. If so be that he
breaketh the lance against the shield, he hath
performed a worthy deed; but if he doth not
break his lance, down he falleth into the water.
... To this city, from every nation under
heaven, do merchants delight to bring their
goods by sea. . . . The only pests of London
are the immoderate quaffing of fools and the
frequency of fires."

146

CHAPTER FIVE

The River's First Bridge

From our point of view, engaged as we are in
the study of London's River and its influence
on the city, perhaps the most interesting thing
that happened in Norman days was the building
of the first stone London Bridge.

Other bridges there had been from remote
times, and these had taken their part in the
moulding of the history of London, but they
had suffered seriously from flood, fire, and
warfare. In the year 1090, for instance, a
tremendous storm had burst on the city, and
while the wind blew down six hundred houses
and several churches, the flood had entirely
demolished the bridge. The citizens had built
another in its place ; but that, too, had narrowly
escaped destruction when there occurred one of
those dreadful fires which FitzStephen laments.
The years 1 135-6 again had brought calamity,
for yet another fire had practically consumed

x47

FATHER THAMES

the entire structure. It had been remade,
however, and had lasted till 1163, when it had
been found to be in such a very bad condition
that an entirely new bridge was a necessity.

The new bridge was the conception of one
Peter, the priest of a small church, St. Mary

;'.,-'. <-v-'-j. »K^-,, ^L-j; a fa

Old London Bridge.

Colechurch, in the Poultry. This clergyman
was a member of a religious body whose special
interest was the building of bridges, in those
times regarded as an act of piety. Skilled in
this particular craft, he dreamed of a bridge for
London such as his brother craftsmen were
building in the great cities of France ; and he set

148

THE RIVER'S FIRST BRIDGE

to work to amass the necessary funds. King,
courtiers, common folk, all responded to his
call, and at last, in 1176, he was able to com-
mence. Unfortunately, he died before the
completion of his project, for it took thirty-
three years to build; and another brother,
Isenbert, carried on after him.

A strange bridge it was, too, when finished;
but good enough to last six and a half centuries.
It was in reality a street built across the River,
926 feet in length, 40 feet wide, and some 60 feet
above the level of high water. Nineteen pointed
arches, varying in width from 10 to 32 feet,
upheld its weight over massive piers which
measured from 23 to 36 feet in thickness. So
massive were these piers that probably only
about a third of the whole length of the Bridge
was waterway. This, of course, meant that the
practice of " shooting " the arches in a boat
was a perilous adventure, for with such narrow
openings the current was tremendous. So
dangerous was it that it was usual for timid folk
to disembark just above the Bridge, walk round
the end, and re-embark below, rather than

149

FATHER THAMES

An Arch of Old London Bridge: Queen Eleanor
being Stoned in 1263.

150

THE RIVER'S FIRST BRIDGE

take the risk of being dashed against the stone-
work. Which wisdom was embodied in a
proverb of the time — " London Bridge was made
for wise men to go over and fools to go under/'

Strangely enough, old London Bridge fore-
stalled the Tower Bridge by having in its centre
a drawbridge, which could be raised to allow
vessels to sail through, much as the bascules of
the modern bridge can be lifted to allow the
passage of the great ships of to-day. There
were on each side of the roadway ordinary
houses, the upper stories of which were used
for dwellings, while the ground floors acted as
shops. In the middle of the Bridge, over the
tenth and largest pier, stood a small chapel
dedicated to St. Thomas of Canterbury, the
youngest of England's saints.

But, even when a stone bridge was erected,
troubles were by no means over. Four years
after the completion, in July, 1212, came an-
other disastrous fire, and practically all the
houses, which, unlike the Bridge itself, were
built of timber, were destroyed. In the year
1282 it was the turn of the River to play havoc.

151

FATHER THAMES

As we said just now, only about a third of the
length was waterway. This condition of things

Chapel of St. Thomas Becket.

(avoided in all modern bridges) meant a tre-
mendous pressure of the current, both at ebb

152

THE RIVER'S FIRST BRIDGE

and flow, and an enormous pressure at flood
time. When, in the year mentioned, there came
great ice-floods, five arches were carried away,
and " London Bridge was broken down, my
fair lady." From that time onwards there was
a considerable series of accidents right down
to the time of the Great Fire of London, con-
cerning which we shall read in a later chapter.
Old London Bridge, during its life, saw many
strange happenings. In 1263, for instance, a
great crowd gathered, wherever the citizens
could find a coign of vantage, for the Queen,
Eleanor of Provence and wife of Henry III.,
was passing that way on her journey from the
Tower to Windsor. But this was no triumphal
passage, for the Queen was strongly opposed to
the Barons, who were still working for a final
settlement of Magna Charta. Enraged at her
action, the people of London waited till her
barge approached the Bridge, and then they
hurled heavy stones down upon it and assailed
the Queen with rough words; so that she was
compelled with her attendants to return to the
Tower, rather than face the enraged mob.

153

FATHER THAMES

The year 1390 saw yet another queer event.
Probably most of you understand what is
meant by a tournament. Well, at this time,
there was much rivalry between the English
and Scottish knights, and a tilt was proposed
between two champions, Lord Wells of England
and Earl Lindsay of Scotland. The English-
man, granted choice of ground, chose by some
strange whim London Bridge for the scene of
action rather than some well-known tourna-
ment ground. On the appointed day the
Bridge was thronged with folk who had come
to witness this unusual contest in the narrow
street. Great was the excitement as the knights
charged towards each other. Three times did
they meet in the shock of battle, and at the
third the Englishman fell vanquished from his
charger, to be attended immediately by the
gallant Scottish knight.

The Bridge, as the only approach to the city
from the south, was the scene of many won-
derful pageants and processions, as our vic-
torious Kings came back from their wars with
France, or returned to England with their brides

154

THE RIVER'S FIRST BRIDGE

from overseas. Such a magnificent spectacle
was the crossing in state of Henry V. after the
great victory of Agincourt in the year 1415.

lUfi m

London Bridge in Modern Times.

The battle, as most of you know, took place
in October of that year, and at the end of
November the King passed over the Bridge at
the head of his most distinguished prisoners

155

FATHER THAMES

and his victorious soldiers, amid the tumultuous
rejoicing of London's jubilant citizens.

Yet another strange scene was enacted when
Wat Tyler, at the head of his tens of thou-
sands, passed over howling and threatening,
after being temporarily held back by the gates
which stood at the south end of the Bridge.

So the old Bridge lasted on, living through
momentous days, till, in the year 1832, it was
removed to give place to the new London Bridge
which had been erected sixty yards to the west-
wards.

156

CHAPTER SIX

How the City grew {in the Middle Ages)

London in that period which we speak of as
the Middle Ages was indeed a remarkable city.
Dotted about all over it, north and south, west
and east, were great monasteries and nunneries
and churches, for in those days the Church was
a tremendous power in the land ; while huddled
together within its confines were shops, houses,
stores, palaces, all set down in a bewildering
confusion. Of palaces there was indeed a pro-
fusion; in fact, London might well have been
called a City of Palaces. But they were not
arranged in long lines along the banks of canals,
as were those of Venice, nor round fine stately
squares, as in Florence, Genoa, and other
famous cities of the Continent. London's
palaces nestled in the city's narrow, muddy
lanes, between the warehouses of the mer-
chants and the hovels of the poor. They paid

157

FATHER THAMES

little or no attention to external beauty, but
within they were splendid structures.

Now, what did this mean ? That the
common people of London constantly came
into contact with the great ones of the land.
The apprentice, sent on an errand by his master,
might at any moment be held up as Warwick
the King-maker, let us say, emerged from his
gateway, followed by a train of several hundred
retainers all decked out in his livery; or the
Queen and her ladies might pass in gay pro-
cession to view a tournament in the fields just
north of the Chepe. In that way the citizens
learned right from their earliest day that
London was not the only place in England,
that there were other folk in the land, and great
ones too, who were not London merchants and
craftsmen.

This constant reminder that they were
simply part and parcel of the great realm of
England did this for the people of London: it
made them keen on politics, always ready to
take sides in any national strife. On the other
hand, it gave them great pride. The citizens

158

HOW THE CITY GREW (MIDDLE AGES)

soon discovered that, though they were not the
only folk in the land, they counted for much, for
whatever side or cause they supported always
won in the end. This, of course, more firmly
cemented the position of London as the fore-
most spot in the kingdom.

Very beautiful indeed were some of the
palaces, or inns, as they were quite commonly
called. They were in no sense of the word
fortresses ; their gates opened straight on to the
narrow, muddy lanes without either ditch or
portcullis. Inside there was usually a wide
courtyard, surrounded by the various buildings.
Unfortunately the Great Fire and other calami-
ties have not spared us much whereby we can
recall such palaces to mind. Staple Inn, whose
magnificent timbered front is still one of
London's most precious relics, is of a later date,
but possesses many of the medieval characters.
Crosby Hall, in Bishopsgate Street, was a fine
specimen. This was erected in the fifteenth
century by a grocer and Lord Mayor, Sir John
Crosby, a man of great wealth; and for some
time it was the residence of Richard III. For

159

FATHER THAMES

many years it remained to show us the exceed-
ing beauty of a medieval dwelling; but, alas,
that too has gone the way of all the others!
A portion of it, the great Hall, has been re-
erected in Chelsea.

Baynard's Castle before the Great Fire.

Otherwise most of these palaces remain only
as a name. Baynard's Castle, one of the most
famous of all, which stood close to the western
end of the river wall, lasted for 600 years from
the Norman Conquest to the time of the Great
Fire, but it is only remembered in the name of
a wharf and a ward of the city. Coldharbour
Palace, which stood in Thames Street with
picturesque gables overhanging the River,

160

HOW THE CITY GREW (MIDDLE AGES)

passed from a great place in history down to
oblivion.

So with all the rest of these elaborate, historic
palaces, about which we can read in the pages
of Stow, that delightful chronicler of London
and her ways; they either perished in the
flames or were pulled down to make way for
hideous commercial buildings.

London in the Middle Ages passed through
a period of great prosperity; but, at the same
time, it suffered terribly through pestilence,
famine, rebellions, and so on. The year 1349
saw a dreadful calamity in the shape of the
" Black Death " — a kind of plague which came
over from Asia. The narrow, dirty lanes, with
their stinking, open ditches, the unsatisfactory
water-supply, all caused the dread disease to
spread rapidly ; and a very large part of London's
citizens perished.

Moreover, famine followed in the path of the
pestilence which stalked through the land. So
great was the toll of human life throughout
England that there were but few left to work
on the land; and London, which depended for

161 l

FATHER THAMES

practically all its supplies on what was sent
from afar, suffered severely. Still, despite all
these troubles, the Middle Ages must be
regarded as part of the " good old times," when
England was " merry England " indeed. True,
the citizens had to work hard, and during long
hours, but they found plenty of time for
pleasure. Those of you who have read any-
thing of Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales" will
know something of the brightness of life in those
times, of the holidays, the pageants and pro-
cessions, the tournaments, the fairs, the general
merrymaking.

All of which, of course, was due to good trade.
The city which the River had made was grow-
ing in strength. London now made practically
everything it needed, and within its walls were
representatives of practically every calling. As
Sir Walter Besant says in his fine book,
"London": "There were mills to grind the
corn, breweries for making the beer; the linen
was spun within the walls, and the cloth made
and dressed; the brass pots, tin pots, iron
utensils, and wooden platters and basins, were

162

HOW THE CITY GREW (MIDDLE AGES)

all made in the city; the armour, with its
various pieces, was hammered out and fashioned
in the streets; all kinds of clothes, from the
leathern jerkin of the poorest to the embroidered
robes of a princess, were made here. . . .

" There was no noisier city in the whole
world; the roar and the racket of it could be
heard afar off, even at the risings of the Surrey
hills or the slope of Highgate. From every
lane rang out, without ceasing, the tuneful note
of the hammer and the anvil; the carpenters,
not without noise, drove in their nails, and the
coopers hooped their casks; the blacksmith's
fire roared; the harsh grating of the founders
set the teeth on edge of those who passed that
way; along the river bank, from the Tower to
Paul's Stairs, those who loaded and those who
unloaded, those who carried the bales to the
warehouses, those who hoisted them up; the
ships which came to port and the ships which
sailed away, did all with fierce talking, shouting,
quarrelling, and racket."

As we picture the prosperity of those medieval
days there comes into our minds that winding

163

FATHER THAMES

silver stream which made such prosperity
possible, and we seem to see the River Thames
crowded with ships from foreign parts, many
of them bringing wine from France, Spain, and
other lands, for wine was one of the principal
imports of the Middle Ages, and filling up the
great holds of their empty vessels with England's
superior wool ; others from Italy, laden with fine
weapons and jewels, with spices, drugs, and
silks, and all wanting our wool. A few of those
ships in the Pool were laden with coal, for in the
Middle Ages this new fuel — sea-coal, as it was
called to distinguish it from the ordinary wood
charcoal — made its appearance in London.
Nor did London take to it at first. In the reign
of Edward I. the citizens sent a petition, pray-
ing the King to forbid the use of this " nuisance
which corrupteth the air with its stink and
smoke, to the great detriment of the health of
the people."

But the advantages of the sea-coal rapidly
outweighed the disadvantages with the citizens,
and the various proclamations issued by sove-
reigns came to nought. Before long several

164

HOW THE CITY GREW (MIDDLE AGES)

officials were appointed to act as inspectors of
the new article of commerce as it came into the
wharves. The famous Dick Whittington and
various other prominent citizens of London
made large fortunes from their coal-boats.

165

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Tower of London

London has many treasures to show us, if we
take the trouble to look for them, but it has no
relic of the past so perfect as its Tower — a place
which every Briton, especially every Londoner,
ought to see and try to understand.

If only the Tower's silent old stones could
suddenly gain the power of speech, what strange
tales they would have to tell of the things which
have occurred during their centuries of history
— tales of things glorious and tales of things
unspeakably tragic. Though the latter would
easily outweigh the former in number, I am
afraid; for this grim stronghold is a monument
to evil rather than to good.

The Tower has often been spoken of as the
key to London, and there is truth in the saying,
for its position is certainly an excellent one.
When William of Normandy descended on
England with his great company of knights

166

THE TOWER OF LONDON

and their retainers, he professed to have every
consideration for the people of London, and
certainly he treated the citizens quite fairly
according to the terms of the treaty. But, at
the same time, he apparently did not feel
any too sure of them, and so he called in the
monk, Gundulf, to erect a fortress, which to
all appearances was merely a strengthening of
the fortifications already there, but which in
reality was intended to serve as a constant
reminder of the power and authority of the
conquering king.

The spot chosen was the angle at the eastern
corner, just where the wall turns sharply inland
from the River, and no position round London
could have been better chosen. In the first place
it guarded London from the river approach,
ready to hold off any enemy venturesome
enough to sail up the Thames to attack the city.
But also, and this undoubtedly was what was
in the mind of the Conqueror, it frowned down
on the city.

A formidable Norman Keep was erected,
with walls 15 feet thick, so strongly built that

167

FATHER THAMES

they stand to-day practically as they stood
900 years ago, save that stone-faced windows
were put in a couple of centuries ago to take
the place of the narrow slits or loopholes which
served for light and ventilation in a fortress of
this sort.

Ground Plan of the Tower.

To understand the Tower of London properly
(and we really want some idea of it before any
visit, otherwise it is merely a confusion of
towers and open spaces without any meaning)
we must realize that it consists of three separate

168

THE TOWER OF LONDON

lines of defences, all erected at different times.
The innermost, the Keep or White Tower, we
have touched upon. Beyond that, and separ-
ated from it by an open space known as the
Inner Ward, is the first wall, with its twelve
towers, among them the Beauchamp Tower,
the Bell Tower, the Bloody Tower, and the
Wakefield Tower. Then, beyond that again,
and separated by another open space known as
the Outer Ward, is yet another wall; and still
beyond is the Moat, outside everything. So
that any attacking army, having successfully
negotiated the Moat, would find itself with the
outer wall to scale and b;eak, and within that
another inner wall, 46 feet high. The garrison,
driven back from these two, could even then
retire to the innermost keep, with its walls
15 feet thick, and there hold out for a great
length of time against the fiercest attacks. So
that, you will readily see, the Tower was a
fortress of tremendous strength in days before
the use of heavy artillery.

The outer defences were added to William's
White Tower from time to time by various

169

FATHER THAMES

monarchs. The first or inner wall, 8 feet thick,
begun in the Conqueror's days, was added to
and strengthened by Stephen, Henry II., and
John. The outer wall and the Moat were
completed by Henry III.; and the Tower thus
took its present shape.

Most of our Sovereigns, from the Conqueror's
time right down to the Restoration, used the
Tower of London. Kings and Queens who
were powerful used it as a prison for their
enemies; those who were weak and feared the
people used it as a fortress for themselves.
This latter use of the Tower was particularly
instanced in the reign of Stephen — an illumin-
ating chapter in the story of London.

Stephen, following the death of Henry I.,
was elected King by the Great Council, and duly
crowned in London; but the barons soon saw
that he was unfitted for the task of ruling, and
they took sides with the Empress Matilda,
hoping thereby to get nearer the independence
they desired. Stephen for a time held his own
with the aid of a number of trusty barons, but
in 1 139 he offended the Church by his rough

170

THE TOWER OF LONDON

treatment of the Bishops of Lincoln and Salis-
bury, and his supporters fell away. Conse-
quently he was compelled in the following year
to seek safety in the Tower, close to his loyal
followers, the citizens of London.

Now the constable of the Tower in those days
was one Geoffrey de Mandeville, about as
unscrupulous and cruel a rascal as could be
imagined. Stephen, to ensure his support,
made him Earl of Essex, and for a time all went
well. But when, following Stephen's defeat
and capture in 1141, the Empress Matilda
moved to London to be crowned, Geoffrey de
Mandeville had not the slightest compunction
in taking sides with her, for which he was
rewarded by the gift of castles, revenues, and
the office of Sheriff of Essex. But Matilda
offended the citizens of London to such an
extent that they drove her from the city and
attacked Mandeville in the Tower. Whereupon
Mandeville, without any hesitation, trans-
ferred his allegiance to Maud of Boulogne,
Stephen's wife, who was rallying his scattered
forces — which allegiance was purchased by

171

FATHER THAMES

making Mandeville the Sheriff of Hertfordshire,
Middlesex, and London, as well. Nothing,
however, could serve to make this treacherous
man act straightly, and when later Stephen
found him planning yet another revolt in favour
of Matilda, he attacked him suddenly, took
him prisoner, and removed him from all public
affairs.

This chapter in English history is far from
showing the English nobles in a good light, but
it is exceedingly interesting as revealing the
extent to which London was beginning to
count in the kingdom.

To-day we enter from the city side by what
is known as the Middle Tower — a renovated
and modernized gateway, with a big, stone-
carved Royal Arms above its arch. The name
" Middle " strikes us as curious, seeing that it is
the first protection on the landward side, until
we remember or learn that originally there was
another Tower, the Lion Tower, nearer the city
(approximately where the refreshment room
now stands) and separated from the Middle
Tower by a drawbridge. But the Lion Tower

172

THE TOWER OF LONDON

disappeared many many years ago, and only
two of the three outer defences remain, the
Middle Tower and the Byward Tower, the
latter reached by a permanent bridge over the
Moat.

Once through the Byward Gateway and we
are between the inner and outer defences.
Leaving on our left the Bell Tower, a strong,
irregular, octagonal tower, which gets its name
from the turret whence curfew bell rings each
night, we walk along parallel to the River,
past the frowning gateway of the Bloody
Tower on our left, with its low arch which
originally gave the only entrance to the Inner
Ward, and on our right, and exactly opposite,
the Traitor's Gate, the riverside passage through
the outer walls. Skirting the Wakefield Tower,
we pass through a comparatively modern
opening, and so come upon the amazing Norman
Keep of William the Conqueror.

This Keep is not quite square, though it
appears to be, and no one of its four sides
corresponds to any other. Its greatest measure-
ments are from north to south 116 feet, and

173

FATHER THAMES

from east to west 96 feet. Inside, three cross
walls, from 6 to 8 feet thick, divide each floor
into three separate apartments of unequal
sizes. It is a building complete in itself, with
everything required for a fortress, a Royal
dwelling, and a prison. Probably, as you walk
about the cold, gloomy chambers, you will say
to yourselves that you can understand the
fortress and the prison parts, but that you
could never imagine it as a dwelling. But you
must remember that with coverings on the
floor and with the bare walls hung with beauti-
ful tapestries, as was the custom in early days,
and with furniture in position, the apartments
must have presented a much more comfortable
appearance.

The first story, or main floor, was the place
where abode the garrison — the men-at-arms and
their officers; and above on the other two floors
were the State apartments — St. John's Chapel
and the Banqueting Hall on the second story,
and the great Council Chamber of the Sovereign
on the third floor. Beneath were great dun-
geons, terrible places without light or ventila-

174

THE TOWER OF LONDON

tion, having in those days no entrance from the
level ground, but reached only by that central
staircase which rose from them to the roof.

In these days the Keep is largely used as an
armoury; and we can gain a fine idea of the
different kinds of armour worn in different
periods, and of the weapons used and of the
cruel implements of torture. It also contains
several good models of the Tower at different
times, and a short study of these will do much
to get rid of the confusion which most folk
feel as they hurry from tower to tower without
any general idea of the place.

Leaving the ancient Keep, we cross the only
wide open space of the fortress, a paved quad-
rangle which keeps its antique and now in-
appropriate name of Tower Green, where in
bygone days some of the Tower's most famous
prisoners have paraded in solitude on the grass.
Here, marked by a tablet, is the site of the
scaffold where died Lady Jane Grey, Anne
Boleyn, Katherine Howard, and other famous
prisoners of State. It is a quiet, moody spot,
where the black ravens of the Tower, as they

175

FATHER THAMES

stand sentinel beneath the sycamore trees,
at times seem the only things in keeping with
the sadness of the place.

To our right is the little Church of St. Peter
ad Vinculam, which will be shown to us by
one of the quaintly garbed " Beef-eaters " (if
one can be spared from other duties), the
famous Yeomen of the Guard who still wear
the uniform designed in Henry the Eighth's
days. Concerning this little sanctuary Lord
Macaulay wrote: " There is no sadder spot on
earth. . . . Death is there associated with
whatever is darkest in human nature and in
human destiny, with the savage triumph of
implacable enemies, with the inconstancy, the
ingratitude, the cowardice of friends, with all
the miseries of fallen greatness and of blighted
fame. Thither have been carried through suc-
cessive ages, by the rude hands of gaolers,
without one mourner following, the bleeding
relics of men who had been the captains of
armies, the leaders of parties, the oracles of
senates, and the ornaments of courts."

Close together in a small space before the
176

THE TOWER OF LONDON

Altar, raised slightly above the level of the
floor, lie the mortal remains of two Queens,
Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard, Margaret
of Salisbury, last of the proud Plantagenets,
Lord and Lady Rochford, the Dukes of Somer-
set, Northumberland, Monmouth, Suffolk, and
Norfolk, the Earl of Essex, Lady Jane Grey,
Lord Guilford Dudley, and Sir Thomas Over-
bury.

As we pass on and come to the Beauchamp
Tower, and later to the Bloody Tower, we see
the tiny prisons where these unfortunates, and
many others, languished in confinement, waiting
their tragic end, whiling away the weary hours
by carving quaint inscriptions on the stone
walls; and, in the latter, we are shown the
tiny apartment where perished the little Princes
at the instigation of their uncle, Richard III.

From our point of view there remains just
one more thing to consider, and that is the
Tower's connection with the River. Probably
few of us, as we try to think back through the
centuries, realize how important the Thames
was even as a highway. We know from our

177 M

FATHER THAMES

reading that London's streets were narrow,
crooked, and of very little use for a big amount
of traffic; yet we do not see in our mind's eye
the great waterway which everybody, rich and

Traitor's Gate.

poor, used in those days, alike for business and
pleasure. And, of course, the Tower contrib-
uted very largely to this water traffic, for the
King, his nobles, and all who had business at
Westminster, travelled constantly to and fro

178

THE TOWER OF LONDON

in the great painted barges which made the
River a gayer and brighter place than it is in
our days. For the purpose of such travellers
there was provided the Queen's Steps at the
Tower Wharf, in order to avoid the use of the
sinister Traitor's Gate — that low, frowning
archway, which gave entrance from the River,
and through which very many famous persons,
innocent and guilty alike, passed to their doom,
brought thither by water at the behest of the
Sovereign.

According to John Stow, who wrote in
Elizabeth's reign, the Tower was then " a
citadel to defend or command the city; a royal
palace for assemblies or treaties; a prison of
state for the most dangerous offenders; the
only place of coinage for all England at this
time; the armoury for warlike provision; the
treasury of the ornaments and jewels of the
Crown; and general conserver of most records
of the King's courts of justice at Westminster."
All that is changed now. The Tower has long
since ceased to be a Royal residence. As a
defence of the city it would not last more than

179

FATHER THAMES

a few minutes against modern artillery. Save
for the period of the great war, when it held
the bodies of numerous spies and traitors and
saw the execution of several, it has for many
years given up its claim to be a prison. The
records which filled the little Chapel of St.
John have now been moved to the Record
Office, and the making of money goes on at the
Mint just across the road. The Crown Jewels
still find a home here, in the Wakefield Tower,
the prison where Henry VI. came to his violent
end. Yet, despite all these changes, the fortress
is still the Tower of London — perhaps the city's
most fascinating relic.

180

CHAPTER EIGHT

How Fire destroyed what the River had made

Leaving the Tower by the Byward Gate, and
passing along Great Tower Street and East-
cheap, we come to the spot

" Where London's column pointing to the skies,
Like a tall bully, lifts its head and lies."

This is, of course, the Monument, which for
many years indicated to all and sundry that
the Great Fire of 1666 was the work of the
Roman Catholics. Till the year 1831 the
inscription, added in 1681 at the time of the
Titus Oates affair, perpetuated the lie in stone,
but in that year it was removed by the City
Council. Now the gilt urn with its flames,
which we can see well if we ascend the 345
steps to the iron cage at the top, merely com-
memorates the Fire itself, without any reference
to its cause, as in the original structure. From
the top of the Monument we can get perhaps

181

FATHER THAMES

*rS

The Monument.

182

FIRE AND THE RIVER

the very finest of all views of London and its
River.

But there is one thing which should preface
our account of the Great Fire, and that is an
account of the Great Plague which visited and
afflicted London in the previous year. Of
course, the Fire was in one sense a terrible
disaster for London, yet the destruction which
it wrought was in reality a great blessing to the
plague-ridden city.

The Plague, by no means the first to visit
London, came over from the Continent, where
for years it had been decimating the large cities.
It broke out with terrible power in the summer
of the year 1665 — a dry, scorching summer which
made the flushing of the open street drains an
impossible thing, and gave every help to the
dread pestilence. If we want to read a thrilling
description of London at this time we have
only to turn to the " Journal of the Plague
Year," by Defoe, the author of " Robinson
Crusoe." This was not actually a journal, for
Defoe was only four years old in 1665, but it
was a faithful account based on first-hand

183

FATHER THAMES

information. In its simply written pages (to
quote from Sir Walter Besant) " we see the
horror of the empty streets; we hear the cries
and lamentations of those who are seized and
those who are bereaved. The cart comes slowly
along the streets with the man ringing a bell
and crying, ' Bring out your dead ! Bring out
your dead !' We think of the great holes into
which the dead were thrown in heaps and
covered with a little earth; we think of the
grass growing in the streets; the churches
deserted; the roads black with fugitives hurry-
ing from the abode of Death; we hear the
frantic mirth of revellers snatching to-night a
doubtful rapture, for to-morrow they die. The
City is filled with despair." As we can well
imagine, the King and his courtiers fled from
Whitehall and the Tower away into the country;
the Law Courts were shifted up river to Oxford.
Naturally all business stopped, and trade was
at a standstill. Ships in hundreds lay idle in
the Pool, waiting for the cargoes which came
not, because the wharves and warehouses were
deserted; laden ships that sailed up the Thames

184

FIRE AND THE RIVER

speedily turned about and made for the Conti-
nental ports. So it went on, the visitation
increasing in fury, till in September there were
nearly 900 fell each day. Then it abated
slightly, but continued through the winter, on
into the following summer, and in the end
more than 97,000 people perished out of a
population of 460,000.

Then, on September 2, came that other
catastrophe, the Great Fire. Starting in a
baker's shop in Pudding Lane, near the Monu-
ment, it was driven westwards by a strong east
wind.

The London of Stuart days gave the Fire
every possible help. Not much survives to-day
to show us what things were like, but the quaint,
timber-fronted houses of Staple Inn (Holborn)
and No. 17, Fleet Street, and the pictures
painted at the time, give us a fair idea of the
inflammable nature of the buildings ; and when
we remember that these wooden houses, old,
dry, and coated with pitch, were in some streets
so close to those opposite that it was possible
to shake hands from the overhanging upper

185

FATHER THAMES

stories, we are not surprised at the rapidity with
which the Fire spread.

The diaries of two gentlemen — Samuel
Pepys and John Evelyn, the former one of the
King's Ministers, the latter a wealthy and
learned gentleman of the Court — bring home to
us plainly the terror of the seven days' visita-
tion. To begin with, very few took any special
notice of the outbreak: fires were too common
to cause great consternation. Even Pepys
himself tells us that he returned to bed; but
when the morning came and it was still burn-
ing, he was disturbed. Says he: " By and by
Jane tells me that she hears that above 800
houses have been burned down to-night by the
fire we saw, and that it is now burning down
all Fish Street, by London Bridge. So I made
myself ready presently, and walked to the
Tower; and there got up upon one of the high
places; and there I did see the houses at that
end of the bridge all on fire, and an infinite great
fire on this and the other side of the end of the
bridge."

London Bridge, as you will remember from a

186

FIRE AND THE RIVER

former chapter, was very narrow, and the houses
projected out over the River, held in place by
enormous timber struts; and these, with the
wooden frames of the three-storied houses, gave
the fire a good hold. Moreover the burning
buildings, falling on the Bridge, blocked the
way to any who would have fought the flames.
After about a third of the buildings had been
destroyed the fire was stopped by the pulling
down of houses and the open space; but not
before it had done great damage to the stone
structure itself. The heat was so intense that
arches and piers which had remained firm for
centuries now began to show signs of falling to
pieces, and it was found necessary to spend
£1,500, an enormous sum in those days, on
repairs before any rebuilding could be attempted.
Day after day the Fire continued. Says
Evelyn: " It burned both in breadth and length,
the churches, public halls, Exchange, hospitals,
monuments, and ornaments, leaping after a
prodigious manner from house to house and
street to street, at great distances one from the
other. . . .

187

FATHER THAMES

" Here we saw the Thames covered with
goods floating, all the barges and boats laden
with what some had time and courage to save,
as, on the other, the carts, etc., carrying out to
the fields, which for many miles were strewed
with movables of all sorts, and tents erected to
shelter both people and what goods they could
get away. . . .

" (Sept. 7) At my return I was infinitely
concerned to find that goodly Church (cathedral),
St. Paul's, now a sad ruin. It was astonishing
to see what immense stones the heat had in a
manner calcined, so that all the ornaments,
columns, friezes, capitals, and projectures of
massie Portland stone flew off, even to the very
roof, where a sheet of lead covering a great
space (no less than six acres by measure) was
totally melted; the ruins of the vaulted roof
falling broke into St. Faith's, which being filled
with the magazines of books belonging to the
Stationers, and carried thither for safety, they
were all consumed, burning for a week follow-
ing. . . . Thus lay in ashes that most vener-
able Church, one of the most ancient pieces of

188

FIRE AND THE RIVER

ffl „

Old St. Paul's (a.d. 1500),

189

FATHER THAMES

early piety in the Christian world, besides near
ioo more. The exquisitely wrought Mercers'
Chapel, the sumptuous Exchange, the august
fabric of Christchurch, all the rest of the Com-
panies' Halls, splendid buildings, arches, entries,
all in dust. . . .

" The people who now walked about the
ruins appeared like men in some dismal desert,
or rather in some great city laid waste by a cruel
enemy. . . . The by-lanes and narrower streets
were quite filled up with rubbish, nor could one
have possibly known where he was, but by the
ruins of some Church or Hall, that had some
remarkable tower or pinnacle remaining. . . ."

Just as the Plague was by no means the first
plague which had visited the city, so there had
been other serious outbreaks of fire, but those
two visitations were by far the worst in the
history of London. We can gather some idea
of the scene of desolation which resulted when
we read that the ruins covered an area of 436
acres — 387 acres, or five-sixths of the entire city,
within the walls and 73 acres without; that the
Fire wiped out four city gates, one cathedral,

190

FIRE AND THE RIVER

eighty-nine parish churches, the Royal Ex-
change, Sion College, and all sorts of hospitals,
schools, etc.

Yet gradually, not within three or four years,
as is commonly stated in history books, but
slowly, as the ruined citizens found money for
the purpose, there rose from the debris another
London — a London with broader, cleaner
streets, with larger and better-built houses of
stone and brick; with fine public buildings and
a new Cathedral — a London more like the city
which we know. So modem London began its
life.

The River did not make a new London as it
had made the old city. Shops, markets, quays,
public buildings, did not spring up naturally in
places where the trade of the time demanded
them, as they had done in the old days, other-
wise much would have changed. Instead, the
new city very largely rebuilt itself on the
foundations of the old, quite regardless of
comfort or utility.

Its supremacy as a Port was never in doubt.
With the tremendous break in London's com-

191

FATHER THAMES

merce, caused first by the Plague and then by
the devastation of the Fire, it would have
seemed possible for the shipping to decrease
permanently; but it never did. So firmly was
London Port established in the past that it lived
on strongly into modern times, despite many
excellent reasons why it should lose its great
place.

192

CHAPTER NINE

The Riverside and its Palaces

To-day, when we stand upon Waterloo Bridge
and let our gaze rest upon the Embankment, as
it sweeps round in the large arc of a circle from
Blackfriars past Charing Cross to Westminster,
it is hard indeed to picture the time when these
massive buildings — hotels, public buildings,
suites of offices, etc. — were not there, when the
green grass grew right down to the water's edge
on the left strand or bank of the River, when a
walk from the one city to the other was a walk
through country lanes and fields. It is hard
indeed to brush away all the ugly, grey re-
minders of the present, and see a little of the
past in its beauty — for beautiful the River un-
doubtedly was in Plantagenet, Tudor, and
Stuart times.

We have spoken of the growth of the city, and
what the River meant to it; of the wharves and
warehouses which extended from the Tower to

193 N

FATHER THAMES

the Fleet River. That was the commercial
London of those days. Westwards from the
Fleet, along the side of the Thames, spread the
more picturesque signs of London's prosperity

The Fleet River at Blackfriars (a.d. 1760).

— the dwellings of some of the wealthy and
influential.

From the western end of the city — Ludgate
and Newgate — spread out westwards the

194

THE RIVERSIDE AND ITS PALACES

suburbs, part of the city, though not actually
within its walls, until an outer limit was reached
at Temple Bar, situated at the western ex-
tremity of one of London's most famous
thoroughfares, Fleet Street, named after the
little river which flowed down where Farring-
don and New Bridge Streets are, and which
emptied itself, and still empties itself, in the
shape of a main drain, into the Thames beneath
Blackfriars Bridge.

Between Fleet Street and the River stood the
Convent of the White Friars, and that most
famous of places the Temple.

In the Middle Ages the Church was far more
intimately concerned with the everyday life of
the people than it is to-day, for the simple
reason that the clergy attended to the care of
the sick and aged, to the teaching of the young,
and other charitable works. Now it must be
understood that there were in this country two
classes of clergy — the monks, who were known
as " regular clergy " (who lived by a regulus or
rule), and the ordinary clergy, much as we have
them to-day, in charge of our cathedrals, parish

195

FATHER THAMES

churches, etc., these last being known as
" secular clergy." For the upkeep of the
Church folk paid what were known as " tithes."
To begin with, this " tithe," or tax, was handed
over to the bishop, who divided it out into four
parts — one for the building itself, one for the
poor, one for the priest, and one for himself.
Gradually, however, the " regulars " obtained
control of affairs, receiving the tithes, and,
instead of giving the full quarters to the " secu-
lars," they simply paid them what they thought
fit, and appropriated the remainder for them-
selves. This led to two things: the monasteries
became enormously wealthy, and the seculars
became exceedingly poor and dissatisfied; so
that there was constant strife between the two
branches. Many nobles, ignorant of the true
condition of affairs, and wishing the excellent
charitable work of the Church to be continued,
made great gifts to the Church. Unfortunately
these very great gifts were sometimes apt to do
the very opposite to what their donors intended.
Instead of the monks devoting themselves more
and more earnestly to the care of the needy,

196

THE RIVERSIDE AND ITS PALACES

they began to think more of their own comfort
and position. They erected for themselves
extensive and comfortable dwellings, with their
own breweries, mills, and farms, and they lived
on the fat of the land. They indulged them-
selves until their luxury became a byword with
the common people. Then arose two great
teachers, St. Francis of Assisi and St. Dominic,
who were led to protest against the abuses.
They founded new Orders of religious men —
called the Friars — who went from place to place
with no money and only such clothes as covered
them. These men believed in and taught the
blessedness of poverty.

Many of them came over from the Continent
and settled in various parts of the city. If you
pick up a map of London, even one of to-day,
you will see such names as Blackfriars, White-
friars, Crutched Friars, Austin Friars — showing
where they made their homes. Some, the
Black Friars, took up a position and eventually
built for themselves a fine monastery and church
just outside the city walls at the mouth of the
Fleet River. Others, the White Friars or Car-

197

FATHER THAMES

melite Monks, made themselves secure just to
the west of the Fleet.

Whitefriars was one of London's sanctuaries ;
within its precincts wrong-doers were safe from
the arm of the Law. Now, in certain periods of
our history, such things as sanctuaries were
good; they frequently prevented innocent
men and women suffering at the hands of
tyrants and unscrupulous enemies. So that
the right of sanctuary was always most jealously
guarded. But, as time went on, this led to
abuses, and when the monasteries were closed
by Henry VIII., the Lord Mayor of London
asked the King to abolish the sanctuary rights
of Blackfriars; but he would not do so. The
consequence was that Blackfriars and White-
friars, particularly the latter, became sinks of
iniquity. In the latter, which was nicknamed
Alsatia, congregated criminals of all sorts —
thieves, coiners, forgers, debtors, cut-throats,
burglars — as we can read in Scott's novel,
" The Fortunes of Nigel." For years it
held its evil associations, but it became so
bad that in 1697 there was passed a Bill

198

THE RIVERSIDE AND ITS PALACES

abolishing for ever the sanctuary rights of
Whitefriars.

West of Whitefriars is the Temple, which,
with its quiet old courtyards, its beautiful
church, and its restful gardens stretching down
to the Embankment, is one of London's most
fascinating places.

It gets its name from its founders, the Knights
Templars — a great Order of men who lived in the
time of the Crusades, and whose white mantles
with a red cross have been famous ever since.
These knights, who took vows to remain un-
married and poor, set themselves the great task
of guarding the pilgrims' roads to the Holy
Land.

In 1 184 the Red Cross Knights settled on the
banks of the River Thames, and made their
home there in what was called the New Temple.
For 130 years they abode there, gradually in-
creasing in wealth and power, till in the end
their very strength defeated them. Princes
and nobles who had given them great gifts of
money for their worthy work saw that money
used, not for charitable purposes, but to keep

199

FATHER THAMES

up the pomp and luxury of the place, and soon
various folk in high places coveted the Tem-
plars' wealth and power, and determined to
defeat them.

So well did these folk work that in 13 13 the
Order was broken up, and the property came
into the King's hands. A few years later the
Temple was leased by the Crown to those men
who were studying the Law in London, and in
their hands it has been ever since, becoming
their own property in the reign of King James I.

Originally the Temple was divided into three
parts — the Inner Temple, the Outer Temple,
and the Middle Temple. The Outer Temple,
which stood west of Temple Bar, and therefore
outside the city, was pulled down years ago,
and now only the two remain.

Here in their chambers congregate the
barristers who conduct the cases in the Law
Courts just across the road; and here are still to
be found the students, all of whom must spend
a certain time in the Temple (or in one of the
other Inns of Court — Gray's Inn or Lincoln's Inn)
before being allowed to practise as a barrister.

200

THE RIVERSIDE AND ITS PALACES

The Temple Church, which belongs to both
Inns of Court, is one of the few pieces of Norman

Old Temple Bar, Fleet Street (now at
Theobald's Park).

architecture which survive to us in London.
It is round in shape, now a rare thing. On the

201

FATHER THAMES

C&srie Hill Eal.ng

Durham House Bedford Hous.

floor, and in many other places, may be seen
the Templars' emblem — the red cross on a white
ground with the Paschal Lamb in the centre.
Figures of departed knights keep watch over
this strange church, their legs crossed to signify
(so it is said) that they had fought in one or
other of the Crusades.

The Temple Gardens, which still run down to
the Embankment, were one time famous for
their roses, and, according to Shakespeare, were
the scene of that famous argument which led to
the bitter struggle known as the War of the
Roses. You probably remember the famous
passage, ending with the lines —

202

THE RIVERSIDE AND ITS PALACES

mpsrca.d Miphgare.

Somerset House

" And here I prophesy — this brawl to-day,
Grown to this faction in the Temple Garden,
Shall send between the red rose and the white
A thousand souls to death and deadly night."

First Part of King Henry VI., Act II., Sc. 4.

Westwards from the Temple as far as West-
minster stretched a practically unbroken line
of palaces, each standing in beautiful grounds
which sloped down in terraces to the water's
edge. There was Somerset House, which for
long was a Royal residence. Lord Protector
Somerset began the building of it in 1549,
pulling down a large part of St. Paul's cloisters
and also the churches of St. John's, Clerkenwell,

203

FATHER THAMES

and St. Mary's le Strand to provide the materials
for his builders; but long before its completion
Somerset was executed for treason, and the
property went to the Crown.

Here Elizabeth lived occasionally while her
sister Mary was reigning. The old palace was
pulled down in 1756, and the present fine
building erected on the site. This modern
structure, with its fine river front, so well
combines strength and elegance that it seems
a pity it does not stand clear of other buildings.

The rest of the palaces, westwards, survive
for the most part only as names. Where now
rises the great mass of the Savoy Hotel once
stood the ancient Palace of the Savoy, rising,
like some of the city houses, straight out of
the River, with a splendid water-gate in the
centre. It was the oldest of the Strand
palaces, being built by Peter of Savoy as early
as 1245. After various ownerships, it passed
into the hands of John of Gaunt, and was his
when it was plundered and almost entirely
burnt down by the followers of Wat Tyler in
138 1. From that time onwards it had a

204

THE RIVERSIDE AND ITS PALACES

chequered existence, being in turn prison and
hospital, till at last in 1805 it was swept away
when the approach to Waterloo Bridge was
made. There is still in the street leading down
to the Embankment the tiny Chapel Royal of
the Savoy, but it has been too often restored
to have much more interest than a name.

Where now comes the Cecil Hotel stood
originally the famous palace or inn of the Cecils,
the Earls of Salisbury. York House, the town
palace of the Archbishops of York, stood where
now is Charing Cross Station. This at one
time belonged to the famous Steenie, Duke of
Buckingham and favourite of James I.
Buckingham pulled down the old house in order
that another and more glorious might rise in
its place; but this was never done. Only the
water-gate was built, and this lovely relic still
stands in the Embankment Gardens, and from
its position, some distance behind the river
wall, shows us how skilful engineers have saved
quite a wide strip of the foreshore.

In all probability each of these Strand palaces
had its water-gate, from which the nobles and

205

FATHER THAMES

their ladies set out in their gay barges when
about to attend the Court at Westminster or
go shopping in London.

The Water-Gate of York House.

Just beyond York House came Hungerford
House, which has given its name to the railway
bridge crossing from the station ; and then came

206

THE RIVERSIDE AND ITS PALACES

Northumberland House, which was the last of the
great historic riverside palaces to be demolished,
being pulled down in comparatively modern
times to make way for Northumberland Avenue.
Other famous palaces are remembered in the
names of Durham Street and Scotland Yard.

When in 1529 Wolsey fell from his high
estate, Henry VIII., his unscrupulous master,
at once took possession of his palace at White-
hall, and made it the principal Royal residence.
To give it suitable surroundings he formed
(for his own sport and pleasure) the park which
we now call St. James's Park. When later he
dissolved the monasteries he seized a small
hospital, known as St. J ames-in-the- Fields,
standing on the far side of the estate, and
converted it into a hunting lodge. This after-
wards became the famous Palace of St. James's.

Of Whitehall Palace all that now remains is
the Banqueting Hall (now used to house the
exhibits of the United Service Institution),
built in the reign of James I. by the famous
architect Inigo Jones; the rest perished by fire
soon after the revolution of 1688. For some

207

FATHER THAMES

time afterwards St. James's Palace was the
only Royal residence in London, but the

The Banqueting Hall, Whitehall Palace.

Sovereigns soon provided themselves with the
famous Kensington and Buckingham Palaces.

208

CHAPTER TEN

Royal Westminster — The Abbey

The story of Westminster is nearly as old as
that of London itself.

In our first chapter we spoke of the position
of London being fixed to a large extent by the
Kent road passing from Dover to the Midlands
That road, heading from Rochester, originally
passed over — and still passes over — the Darent
at Dartford, the Cray at Crayford, the Ravens-
bourne at Deptford; and then made its way,
not to the crossing at Billingsgate, but to a
still older ford or ferry which existed in very
early days at the spot where Westminster now
stands. If you look at the map of London,
you will see that the Edgware Road, passing
in a south-easterly direction from St. Albans,
comes down, with but a slight curve, as if to
meet this north-westerly Kent road. That
they did so meet there is but little doubt, and
this meeting gave us the Royal City of West-
minster.

209 o

FATHER THAMES

In pre-Roman days Lambeth and West-
minster, Belgravia and Chelsea, were simply-
reedy marshes. Out of them rose a number of
gravelly islands of various sizes, and one of
these, larger and more solid than the rest —

The River at Thorney Island.

Thorney or Bramble Island — became in due
course the site of the city which for centuries
was second only to London itself; for though
the building of the Bridge and the rapid growth
of the Port meant the diversion of the Kentish
Watling Street to a new route through London,

210

ROYAL WESTMINSTER— THE ABBEY

the Thorney Island settlement grew just as
steadily as that of the bluff lower down the
stream, till eventually it held England's most
celebrated Abbey and Royal Palace, and its
Houses of Parliament.

As so often happened in early days, the
settlement developed round a religious house.
Probably it originated in a British fortress.
Certainly it comprised a considerable Roman
station and market. But all that lies in the
misty past. The legend remains that in the
year 604 Sebert, King of the East Saxons,
there founded a minster of the west (St. Peter's)
to rival the minster of the east (St. Paul's)
which was being erected within the City of
London; and indeed we are still shown in the
Abbey the tomb of this traditional founder.

When we come to the reign of Edward the
Confessor we begin to get to actual definite
things. Edward, as we know from our history
books, was a very religious man, almost as
much a monk as a King; and he took special
delight in rebuilding ruined churches. While
he was in exile in Normandy he made a vow

211

FATHER THAMES

to St. Peter that he would go on pilgrimage to
Rome if ever he came into his kingdom. When,
in the passage of time, he became King, and
proposed to carry out his vows, his counsellors
would not hear of such a journey; and, in the
end, the Pope of Rome released him from his
vow on condition that he agreed to build an
Abbey to the glory of St. Peter.

This Edward did. His own particular friend,
Edwin, presided over the small monastery of
Thorney, so Edward determined to make this
the site of his new Abbey. Pulling down the
old place, he devoted a tenth part of his income
to the raising of the new " Collegiate Church
of St. Peter of Westminster." Commenced in
the year 1049, it became the King's life-work,
and was consecrated only eight days before his
death.

In order that he might see the builders at
work on his favourite project, he built himself
a palace between the Abbey and the River,
and for fifteen years he watched the rising into
being of such an Abbey as England had never
known. He endowed it lavishly with estates,

212

ROYAL WESTMINSTER— THE ABBEY

and gave it the right of sanctuary, whereby all
men should be safe within its walls.

Of course, the fine structure we see as we
stand in the open space known as Broad
Sanctuary is not the Confessor's building. Of
that, all that now remains is the Chapel of the
Pyx, the great schoolroom of Westminster
School, which was the old monks' dormitory,
and portions of the walls of the south cloister.
The rest has been added from time to time by
the various Sovereigns. Henry III., in 1245,
pulled down large portions of the old structure,
and erected a beautiful chapel to contain the
remains of the Abbey's founder, and this chapel
we can visit to-day. In it lies the sainted
Confessor, borne thither on the shoulders of the
Plantagenet nobles whose humbler tombs sur-
round the shrine; also his Queen, Eleanor;
Edward III., and that Queen who saved the
lives of the burghers of Calais; also the luckless
Richard II.

Other Sovereigns also took a share; but it
was left to Henry VII. to give us the body of
the Abbey mainly in the shape we know. At

213

FATHER THAMES

enormous expense he erected the famous Per-
pendicular chapel, called by his name — one of

Henry VII. 's Chapel, Westminster Abbey.
214

ROYAL WESTMINSTER— THE ABBEY

the most beautiful and magnificent chapels in
the whole world.

When we stand in the subdued light in this
exquisite building, and examine the beautifully
fretted stonework of its amazing roof — a " dream
in stone/' its " walls wrought into universal
ornament," the richly carved, dark-oak stalls
of the Knights of the Bath with the banners
of their Order drooping overhead — we find it
hard to recall that this miserly man was one
of the least popular of England's Kings.

In this spot lie, in addition to the remains
of Henry himself, those of most of our later
Kings and Queens. Here side by side the
sisters Mary and Elizabeth " are at one; the
daughter of Catherine of Aragon and the
daughter of Anne Boleyn repose in peace at
last." Here, too, rests that tragic figure of
history, Mary Queen of Scots; and James I.,
Charles I., William III., Queen Anne, and
George II.

For numbers of us one of the most interesting
parts of the Abbey will always be " Poets'
Corner," in the south transept. Here rest all

215

FATHER THAMES

that remains of many of our mightiest wielders
of the pen, from Chaucer, the father of English
poetry, down to Tennyson and Browning.
Many of the names on the monuments which
cluster so closely together are forgotten now,
just as their works are never read; but the

Westminster Abbey.

tablets to the memory of Shakespeare, Ben
Jonson, Dryden, Dickens, Tennyson, and
Browning, will always serve to remind us of
the mighty dead. The north transept is devoted
largely to the monuments to our great statesmen
and our great warriors.

216

ROYAL WESTMINSTER— THE ABBEY

In the Choir we come upon the Coronation
Chairs. The Confessor in building his church
had in mind that the Abbey should be the place
of coronation of England's Sovereigns; and
down through the centuries this custom has
been observed. Indeed, certain parts of the
regalia worn by the King or Queen on Corona-
tion Day are actually the identical articles
presented to the Abbey by Edward himself.
The old and battered chair is that of Edward I.,
the " hammer of the Scots/' who lies buried
with his fellow Plantagenets in the Confessor's
Chapel. Just under the seat of the chair is
the famous " stone of destiny," brought from
Scone by Edward, to mark the completeness of
the defeat. Its removal to Westminster sorely
troubled our northern neighbours, for they
believed that the Supreme Power travelled
with that stone. Since those days every
English Sovereign has been crowned in this
chair. Its companion was made for Mary, wife
of William III.

In the Nave lies one of the most frequently
visited of all the tombs — the last resting-place

217

FATHER THAMES

of the Unknown Warrior, who, brought over
from France and buried with all the grandeur
and solemnity of a Royal funeral, typifies for
us the thousands of brave lads who made the
great sacrifice — who died that we might live.

What most of us forget is that the place
which we call Westminster Abbey was only the
Chapel belonging to the Abbey, the place where
the monks worshipped. In addition there was
a whole collection of buildings where the monks
ate, slept, studied, worked, etc. Of these most
have been swept away. If we pass out through
the door of the South Aisle we can see the
ancient cloisters where the monks washed
themselves, took their exercise and such little
recreation as they were allowed, and where
they buried their brothers. There was also the
Abbot's House, which afterwards became the
Deanery, and there was the Chapter House,
a building which fortunately has been preserved
to us almost in its original condition. This
was the place where the business of the Abbey
was conducted, where the monks came together
each day after Matins in order that the tasks

218

ROYAL WESTMINSTER— THE ABBEY

of the day might be allotted and God's blessing
asked, where afterwards offenders were tried
and penances imposed. Till the end of the
reign of Henry VIII. the House of Commons
met in this chamber when the monks were not
using it; and afterwards it was set aside as an
office for the keeping of records. When in 1540
came the dissolution of the Abbey, the Chapter
House became Royal property, and that is why
we now see a policeman in charge of it instead
of one of the Abbey vergers.

219

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Royal Westminster — The Houses of Parliament

When in the eleventh century Edward the
Confessor built the palace from which to survey
the erection of his beloved Abbey, he little
dreamed that upon the very spot would meet
the Parliament of an Empire greater even than
Rome; nor did he realize that through several
centuries Westminster Palace would be the
favourite home of the Kings and Queens of
England.

William Rufus added to the Confessor's
edifice, and also partially built the walls of the
Great Hall, which is the sole thing that remains
of the ancient fabric. Other Kings enlarged
the palace from time to time. Stephen erected
the Chapel of St. Stephen, in which met the
Commons from the time of Edward VI. till
the year 1834, when a terrible fire wiped out
practically the whole of the ancient Palace of
Westminster.

220

The Houses of Parliament.
221

FATHER THAMES

To-day, when we stand on Westminster
Bridge or Lambeth Bridge, and survey the huge
building which provides London with one of
its greatest landmarks, we are looking at a new
Palace: from the River not a stone of the old
structure is visible. A magnificent Palace it is
too ! Its towers, one at each end, rise high
into the air, one of them 320 feet high, the
other 20 feet more; and its buildings cover a
matter of 8 acres. From Westminster Bridge
we see the whole of the river front, goo feet
long, with the famous " terrace " in front,
where in summer the members of Parliament
stroll and take tea with their friends.

Westminster Hall, which fortunately survived
the disastrous fire of 1834, is on the side farthest
from the River : it runs parallel with the House
of Commons, and projects from the main
building just opposite the end of the Henry VII.
Chapel in the Abbey.

If we enter the Parliament buildings we shall
very possibly do so by the famous hall known
as St. Stephen's Hall — built on the site of the
ancient House of Commons. Westminster Hall

222

THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT

then lies to our left, as we enter, down a flight
of steps.

Let us descend for a few moments, for the
Hall is perhaps the finest of its kind in all our
land. Its vast emptiness silences the words
which rise to our lips: we feel instinctively
that this is a place of wonderful memories.
Our eyes travel along the mighty, carved-oak
roof which spans the great width of the building,
and we can scarcely believe that this roof was
built so long ago as the time of Richard II., or
even earlier, and that it is still the actual
timbers we see in places.

What stories could these ancient stones
beneath our feet tell us, had they but the
power ! What tales of joy and what tales of
terrible tragedy ! Here were held many of the
festivities which followed the coronation cere-
monies in the Abbey. Henry III. here showed
to the citizens his bride, Eleanor of Provence,
when " there were assembled such a multitude
of the nobility of both sexes, such numbers of
the religious, and such a variety of stage-
players, that the City of London could scarcely

223

FATHER THAMES

contain them. . . . Whatever the world pours
forth of pleasure and glory was there specially
displayed." And yet a few years later saw
that same Henry taking part in a vastly
different spectacle — when, in the presence of a
gathering equally distinguished, he was com-
pelled to watch the Archbishop of Canterbury
as he threw to the stone floor of the Hall a
lighted torch, with these words: "Thus be
extinguished and stink and smoke in hell all
those who dare to violate the charters of the
Kingdom."

A plate let into the floor tells us that on that
spot stood Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, strong
Minister of a weak King, when he was tried for
his life; while upon the stairs which we have
descended is another tablet to mark the spot
whence that weak King himself, Charles I.,
heard his death sentence. Here, too, were tried
William Wallace, Thomas More, and Warren
Hastings, while just outside in Old Palace
Yard the half-demented Guido Fawkes and the
proud, scholarly Sir Walter Raleigh met their

deaths.

224

THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT

Returning to St. Stephen's Hall, which is
lined with the statues of the great statesmen
who were famous in the older chamber, and
passing up another flight of steps, we find our-
selves in the octagonal Central Hall, or, as it
is more usually called, the Lobby. Here we
are practically in the middle of the great pile
of buildings. To our right, as we enter, stretches
the House of Lords and all the apartments
that pertain to it — the Audience Chamber,
the Royal Robing Room, the Peers' Robing
Room, the House of Lords Library — ending
in the stately square tower, known as the
Victoria Tower. To our left lies the House
of Commons and all its committee, dining,
smoking, reading rooms, etc., ending in the
famous " Big Ben " tower. " Big Ben " is,
of course, known to everybody. Countless
thousands have heard his 13 J tons of metal
boom out the hour of the day, and have set
their watches right by the 14-foot minute-hands
of the four clock-faces, which each measure
23 feet across.

The House of Lords itself is a fine building,
225 p

FATHER THAMES

90 feet long and 45 feet wide, its walls and
ceiling beautifully decorated with paintings
representing famous scenes from our history.
At one end is the King's gorgeous throne, and
beside it, slightly lower, those of the Queen and
the Prince of Wales. Just in front is the
famous " Woolsack," an ugly red seat, stuffed
with wool, as a reminder of the days when
wool was the chief source of the nation's wealth.
On this, when the House is in session, sits the
Lord Chancellor of England, who presides over
the assembly.

The House of Commons is not quite so
ornate: here the benches are upholstered in a
quiet green. At the far end is the Speaker's
Chair. The Speaker, as you probably know,
is the chairman of the House of Commons, the
member who has been chosen by his fellows to
control the debates and keep order in the
House. In front of the Speaker's Chair is a
table, at which sit three men in wigs and gowns,
the Clerks of the House. On the table lies the
Mace — the heavy staff which is the emblem of
authority.

226

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Riverside of To-day

The Riverside of to-day is noticeable for many
things, but for nothing more so than the very
great difference between the two banks. On
the one hand we have a magnificent Embank-
ment sweeping round through almost the entire
length of the River's passage through London,
with large and important buildings surmounting
the thoroughfare; while on the other hand we
have nothing but a huddled collection of com-
mercial buildings, right on the water's edge —
unimposing, dingy, and dismal, save in the one
spot where the new County Hall breaks the
ugly monotony and gives promise of better
things in future for the Surrey shore.

The Embankment on the Middlesex side may
perhaps be said to be one of the outcomes of the
Great Fire, for, though its construction was
not undertaken till 1870, it was one of the main
improvements suggested by Sir Christopher

227

FATHER THAMES

Wren in his scheme for the rebuilding of
London. The Victoria Embankment, which
sweeps round from Blackfriars to Westminster,
is a mile and a quarter long. Its river face
consists of a great granite wall, 8 feet in thick-
ness, with tunnels inside it for the carrying of
sewers, water-mains, gas-pipes, etc., all of which
can be reached without interfering with that
splendid wide road beneath which the Under-
ground Railway runs. There is a continuation
of the Embankment on the south side from
Westminster to Vauxhall, known as the Albert
Embankment, while on the north it runs, with
some interruptions, as far as Chelsea.

One of the most interesting sights of the
Embankment is Cleopatra's Needle — a tall stone
obelisk, which stands by the water's edge.
This stone, one of the oldest monuments in the
world, stood originally in the ancient city of
On, in Egypt, and formed part of an enormous
temple to the sun-god. Later it was shifted
with a similar stone to Alexandria, there to
take a place in the Csesarium — the temple
erected in honour of the Roman Emperors.

228

THE RIVERSIDE OF TO-DAY

Centuries passed: the Csesarium fell into ruins,
and Cleopatra's obelisk lay forgotten in the
sand. Eventually it was offered to this country
by the Khedive of Egypt, but the task of
transporting it was so difficult that nothing
was done till 1877-8, when Sir Erasmus Wilson
undertook the enormous cost of the removal.
It has nothing to do with Cleopatra.

Of the bridges over the River we have already
dealt with the most famous — the remarkable
old London Bridge which stood for so many
centuries and only came to an end in 1832.
Westminster Bridge, built in 1750, was the first
rival to the ancient structure, and though it
was but a poor affair it made the City Council
very dissatisfied with their possession. Nor
was this surprising, for the old bridge had got
into a very bad state, so that in 1756 the City
Fathers decided to demolish all the buildings
on the bridge, and to make a parapet and
proper footwalks.

Up to the time of King George II. there was
at Westminster merely a jetty or landing-stage
used in connection with the ferry that was

229

FATHER THAMES

used in place of the ancient ford; but during
this King's reign Westminster, and, shortly
afterwards, Blackfriars Bridge, came into being.
Battersea and Vauxhall, Waterloo (built two
years after the battle), Southwark, Chelsea, and
Lambeth followed in fairly rapid succession.
Of these, Westminster, Blackfriars, Battersea,
Vauxhall, and Southwark have already been
rebuilt.

Old Vauxhall Bridge was the first cast-iron
bridge ever built; Wandsworth was the first
lattice bridge; Waterloo Bridge the first ever
made with a perfectly level roadway. Hunger-
ford Bridge, which stretched where now that
atrociously ugly iron structure, the Charing
Cross Railway bridge, defiles the River, was
originally designed by Brunei, the eminent
engineer, to span the gorge over the Avon at
Clifton, but it was eventually placed in position
across the Thames. When the atrocity was
built the suspension bridge was taken back to
Clifton, where it now hangs like a spider's web
over the mighty gap in the hills.

Until the close of the nineteenth century
2^0

St. Paul's from the South End of Southwark
Bridge.

231

FATHER THAMES

London Bridge enjoyed the distinction of being
the lowest bridge on the River's course; but in
1894 the wonderful Tower Bridge was opened.
This mighty structure, which was commenced
in 1886, cost no less than £830,000. In its
construction 235,000 cubic feet of granite and
other stone, 20,000 tons of cement, 10,000 yards
of concrete, 31,000,000 bricks, and 14,000 tons
of steel were used. In its centre are two
bascules, each weighing 1,200 tons, which swing
upwards to allow big ships to pass into the
Pool. Although these enormous bascules, the
largest in the world, weigh so much, they work
by hydraulic force as smoothly and easily as
a door opens and shuts.

Of the buildings on the south side of the
River practically none are worthy of notice
save the Shot Tower — where lead-shot is made
by dropping the molten metal from the top of
the shaft — the new County Hall, and St. Thomas's
Hospital at Westminster. The County Hall
is a splendid structure, one of the finest of its
kind in the whole world. It possesses miles of
corridors, hundreds of rooms, and what is more,

232

THE RIVERSIDE OF TO-DAY

a magnificent water frontage. The architect is
Mr. Ralph Knott. St. Thomas's Hospital, which
stands close to it, is one of a number of
excellent hospitals in various parts of London.
When in 1539 the monasteries were closed,
London was left without anything in the way
of hospitals, or alms-houses, or schools; for the
care of the sick, the infirm, and the young had
always been the work of the monks and the
nuns. In consequence, London suffered terribly.
Matters became so extremely serious that the
City Fathers approached the King with a view
to the return of some of these institutions.
Their petition was granted, and King Henry
gave back St. Bartholomew's, Christ's Hospital,
and the Bethlehem Hospital. Later King
Edward VI. allowed the people to purchase
St. Thomas's Hospital — the hospital of the old
Abbey of Bermondsey. When in 1871 the
South-Eastern Railway Company purchased
the ground on which the old structure stood,
a new and more convenient building was erected
on the Albert Embankment opposite the Houses
of Parliament.

233

FATHER THAMES

As we stand once more on Westminster
Bridge and see the two great places, one on each
side, where our lawmakers sit — those of the
Nation and those of the great City — our glance
falls on the dirty water of old Father Thames
slipping by; and we think to ourselves that
great statesmen may spring to fame and then
die and leave England the poorer, governments
good and bad may rise and fall, changes of all
sorts may happen within these two stately
buildings, the very stones may crumble to dust,
but still the River flows on — silent, irresistible.

234

BOOK III
THE UPPER RIVER

235

The Castle Keep, Oxford.
236

THE UPPER RIVER

CHAPTER ONE

Stripling Thames

Just where the Thames starts has always been
a matter of argument, for several places have
laid claim to the honour of holding the source
of this great national possession.

About three miles south-west of Cirencester,
and quite close to that ancient and famous
highway the Ackman Street (or Bath f osseway) ,
there is a meadow known as Trewsbury Mead,
lying in a low part of the western Cotswolds,
just where Wiltshire and Gloucestershire meet;
and in this is situated what is commonly known
as " Thames Head " — a spring which in winter
bubbles forth from a hollow, but which in
summer is so completely dried by the action
of the Thames Head Pump, which drains the
water from this and all other springs in the
neighbourhood, that the cradle of the infant

237

FATHER THAMES

Thames is usually bone-dry for a couple of
miles or more of its course. This spot is usually
recognized as the beginning of the River.

If, however, we consider that the source of a
river is the point at greatest distance from the

Thames Head.

mouth we shall have to look elsewhere; for the
famous " Seven Streams " at the foot of Leck-
hampton Hill, from which comes the brook
later known as the River Churn, can claim the
distinction of being a few more miles from the
North Sea; and this distinction has frequently

238

STRIPLING THAMES

been recognized as sufficient to grant the claim
to be the true commencement.

But the Churn has always been the Churn
(indeed, the Romans named the neighbouring
settlement from the stream — Churn-chester or
Cirencester) ; and no one has ever thought of
calling it the Thames. Whereas the stream
beginning in Trewsbury Mead has from time
immemorial been known as the Thames (Isis
is only an alternative name, not greatly used in
early days) ; and so the verdict of history seems
to be on its side, whatever geography may have
to say.

Nevertheless it matters little which can
most successfully support its claim. What
does matter is that Churn, and Isis, and Leach,
and Ray, and Windrush, and the various other
feeders, give of their waters in sufficient quantity
to ensure a considerable river later on. From
the point of view of their usefulness both the
main stream and the tributaries are negligible
till we come to Lechlade, for only there does
navigation and consequently trade begin. But
if the stream is not very useful, it is exceedingly

239

FATHER THAMES

pretty, with quaint rustic bridges spanning
its narrow channel, and fine old-world mills and
mansions and cottages and numbers of ancient
churches ,on its banks.

-fromtbcfir'sr' (jy

The first place of any size is the little town of
Cricklade, which can even boast of two churches.
Here the little brooks of infant Thames (or Isis)
and Churn join forces, and yield quite a flowing
stream. At Lechlade the rivulet is joined by
the Colne, and its real life as a river commences.
From now on to London there is a towing-path

240

STRIPLING THAMES

beside the river practically the whole of the way,
for navigation by barges thus early becomes
possible.

From Lechlade onwards to Old Windsor, a
matter of about a hundred miles, the upper
Thames has on its right bank the county of
Berkshire, with its beautiful Vale of the White
Horse, remembered, of course, by all readers
of " Tom Brown's Schooldays." On the left
bank is Oxfordshire as far as Henley, and
Buckinghamshire afterwards.

In and out the " stripling Thames " winds
its way, clear as crystal as it slips past green
meadows and little copses. There is very
little to note as we pass between Lechlade and
Oxford, a matter of forty miles or so. Owing
to the clay bed, not a town of any sort finds a
place on or near the banks. Such villages as
there are stand few and far between.

Just past Lechlade there is Kelmscott, where
William Morris dwelt for some time in the
Manor House; and the village will always be
famous for that. There in the old-world place
he wrote the fine poems and tales which later

241 Q

FATHER THAMES

he printed in some of the most beautiful books
ever made, and there he thought out his
beautiful designs for wall-papers, carpets,
curtains, etc. He was a wonderful man, was
William Morris, a day-dreamer who was not

Kelmscott Manor.

content with his dreams until they had taken
actual shape.

On we go past New Bridge, which is one of
the oldest, if not the very oldest, of the many
bridges which cross the River. Close at hand
the Windrush joins forces, and the River swells

242

STRIPLING THAMES

and grows wider as it sweeps off to the north.
Away on the hill on the Berkshire side is a little
village known as Cumnor, which is not of any
importance in itself, but which is interesting
because there once stood the famous Cumnor
Hall, where the beautiful Amy Robsart met
with her untimely death, as possibly some of
you have read in Sir Walter Scott's novel
" Kenilworth." Receiving the Evenlode, the
River bends south again, and a little later we
pass Godstow Lock, not far from which are the
ruins of Godstow Nunnery, where Fair Rosa-
mund lived and was afterwards buried. Be-
tween Godstow and Oxford is a huge, flat piece
of meadowland, known as Port Meadow: this
during the War formed one of our most important
flying-grounds.

Henceforward the upper Thames is inter-
rupted at fairly frequent intervals by those
man-made contrivances known as locks — in-
genious affairs which in recent years have
taken the place of or rather supplemented the
old-fashioned weirs. For any river which
boasts of serious water traffic the chief difficulty,

243

FATHER THAMES

especially in summer-time, has always been
that of holding back sufficient water to enable
the boats to keep afloat. Naturally with a
sloping bed the water runs rapidly seawards,
and if the supply is not plentiful the river soon
tends to become shallow or even dry. In very
early days man noticed this, and, copying the
beaver, he erected dams or weirs to hold back
the water, and keep it at a reasonable depth.
And down through the centuries until com-
paratively recent years these dams or weirs
sufficed. As man progressed he fashioned his
weirs with a number of " paddles " which
lifted up and down to allow a boat to pass
through. When the craft was moving down-
stream just one or two paddles were raised, and
the boat shot through the narrow opening on
the crest of the rapids thus formed; but when
the boat was making its way upstream more
paddles were raised so that the rush of water
was not so great, and the boat was with diffi-
culty hauled through the opening in face of the
strong current. This very picturesque but
primitive method lasted until comparatively

244

STRIPLING THAMES

recent years. Now the old padclle-locks have
gone the way of all ancient and delightful
things, and in their places we have the
thoroughly effective " pound - locks " — affairs
with double gates and a pool or dock in between
— which in reality convert the rivei into a long
series of water-terraces or steps, dropping lower
and lower the nearer we approach the mouth.

245

CHAPTER TWO

Oxford

One hundred and twelve miles above London
Bridge there is the second most celebrated city
on the banks of the Thames — Oxford, the
" city of spires," as it has been called. By no
means a big place, it is famous as the home of
our oldest University.

Seen from a distance, Oxford is a place of
great beauty, especially when the meadows
round about are flooded. Then it seems to
rise from the water like some English Venice.
Nor does the beauty grow less as we approach
closer, or when we view the city from some other
point. Always we see the delicate spires of
the Cathedral and the churches, the beautiful
towers of the various colleges, the great dome
of the Radcliffe Camera, all of them nestling
among glorious gardens and fine old trees.

The question at once comes into our minds,
Why is it that there is a famous city here ?

246

OXFORD

Why should such a place as this, right out in
the country, away from what might be called
the main arteries of the life of England, be one
of the most important seats of learning ?

To understand this we must go back a long
way, and we must ask ourselves the question,
Why was there ever anything — even a village —
here at all ? If we think a little we shall see
that in the early days, when there were not very
many good roads, and when there were still
fewer bridges, the most important spots along a
river were the places where people could cross :
that is to say, the fords. To these spots came
the merchants with their waggons and their
trains of pack-horses, the generals with their
armies, the drovers with their cattle, the pilgrims
with their staves. All and sundry, journeying
from place to place, made for the fords, while
the long stretches of river-bank between these
places were never visited and seldom heard of.

Now, what made a ford ? Shallow water,
you say. Yes, that is true. But shallow water
was not enough. It was necessary besides that
the bed of the stream should be firm and hard,

247

FATHER THAMES

so that those who wished might find a safe
crossing. And places where such a bottom could
be found were few and far between along the
course of the Thames. Practically everywhere
it was soft clay in which the feet of the men
and the animals and the wheels of the waggons
sank deep if they tried to get from bank to
bank.

But, just at the point where the Thames
bends southwards, just before the Cherwell
flows into it, there is a stretch of gravel which
in years gone by made an excellent ford and
provided a suitable spot on which some sort of
a settlement might grow.

How old that settlement is no one knows.
Legend tells us that a Mercian saint by the name
of Frideswide, together with a dozen com-
panions, founded a nunnery here somewhere
about the year 700. Certainly the village is
mentioned under the name of Oxenford (that is,
the ford of the oxen) in the Saxon Chronicle,
a book of ancient history written about a
thousand years ago ; and we know that Edward
the Elder took possession of it, and, building

248

OXFORD

a castle and walls, made a royal residence. So
that it is a place of great antiquity.

Another question that comes into our minds is
this, When did Oxford become the great home
of learning which it has so long been ? Here
again the truth is difficult to ascertain. Legend
tells us that King Alfred founded the schools,
but that is rather more than doubtful. We do
know that during the twelfth century there was
a great growth in learning. Right throughout
Europe great schools sprang into existence, one
of the most important being that in Paris.
Thither went numbers of Englishmen to learn,
and they, returning to their own land, founded
schools in different parts, usually in connection
with the monasteries and the cathedrals. Such
a school was one which grew into being at
St. Frideswide's monastery at Oxford. Also
King Henry I. (Beauclerc — the fine scholar —
as he was called) built a palace at Oxford, and
there he gathered together many learned men,
and from that time people gradually began to
flock to Oxford for education. They tramped
weary miles through the forest, across the hills

249

FATHER THAMES

and dales, and so came to the little town, only
to find it crowded out with countless others as
poor as themselves; but they were not dis-
heartened. There being no proper places for
teaching, they gathered with their masters,
also equally poor, wherever they could find a
quiet spot, in a porch, or a loft, or a stable; and
so the torch was handed on. Gradually lecture-
rooms, or schools as they were called, and
lodging-houses or halls, were built, and life
became more bearable. Then in 1229 came an
accident which yet further established Oxford
in its position. This accident took the form of
a riot in the streets of Paris, during the course
of which several scholars of Paris University
were killed by the city archers. Serious trouble
between the University folk and the Provost
of Paris came of this ; and, in the end, there was
a very great migration of students from Paris
to Oxford; and, a few years after, England
could boast of Oxford as a famous centre of
learning.

But it was not till the reign of Henry III. that
a real college, as we understand it, came into

250

OXFORD

being. Then, in the year 1264, one Walter
de Merton gathered together in one house a
number of students, and there they lived and
were taught ; and thus Merton, the oldest of the
colleges, began. Others soon followed — Balliol,
watched over by the royal Dervorguilla ; Uni-
versity College, founded by William of Durham,
who was one to come over after the Paris town
and gown quarrel; New College; and so on,
college after college, until now, as we wander
about the streets of this charming old city, it
seems almost as if every other building is a
college. And magnificent buildings they are
too, with their glorious towers and gateways,
their beautiful stained - glass windows, their
panelled walls. To wander round the city of
Oxford is to step back seemingly into a for-
gotten age, so worn and ancient - looking are
these piles of masonry. Modern clothes seem
utterly out of place in such an antique spot.

Different folk, of course, will regard different
colleges as holding pride of place ; but, I am sure,
all will agree that one of the finest is Magdalen
College, a beautiful building standing amid

251

FATHER THAMES

252

OXFORD

cool, green meadows. Very fine indeed is the
great tower, built in 1492, from the top of which
every May morning the College choir sings a
glad hymn of praise; and very fine too are the
cloisters below, and the lovely leafy walks in
whose shade many famous men have walked
in their youthful days.

If we grant to Magdalen its claim to be the
most beautiful of the colleges, we must un-
doubtedly recognize Christ Church as the most
magnificent. We shall see something of the
splendour of Cardinal Wolsey's ideas with
regard to building when we talk about his
palace at Hampton Court, and we need feel no
surprise at the grandeur of Christ Church.
Unfortunately, Wolsey's ideas were never
carried out: his fall from favour put an end
to the work when but three sides of the Great
Quadrangle had been completed; and then for
just on a century the fabric stood in its un-
finished state — a monument to o'erleaping
ambition. Nevertheless it was completed, and
though it is not all that Wolsey intended it
to be, it is still one of the glories of the city.

253

FATHER THAMES

Built round about the old Cathedral, it stands
upon the site of the ancient St. Frideswide's
priory.

The famous " Tom Tower " which stands in
the centre of the front of the building was not a
part of the original idea: it was added in 1682
by Dr. Fell, according to the design of Sir
Christopher Wren, the architect of St. Paul's
Cathedral. " Tom Tower " is so called because
of its great bell, brought from Osney Abbey.
" Great Tom/' which weighs no less than
six tons, peals forth each night at nine o'clock
a hundred and one strokes, and by the time of
the last stroke all the College gates are supposed
to be shut and all the undergraduates safely
within the College buildings.

The most wonderful possession of Christ
Church is its glorious " Early English " hall,
in which the members of the College dine daily :
115 feet long, 40 feet broad, and 50 feet high,
it is unrivalled in all England, with perhaps the
exception of Westminster Hall. Here at the
tables have sat many of England's most famous
men — courtiers, writers, politicians, soldiers,

254

OXFORD

artists — and the portraits of a number of them,
painted by famous painters, look down from the
ancient walls.

But these are only two of the colleges. At
every turn some other architectural beauty,
some dream in stone, discloses itself, for the
colleges are dotted about all over the centre
of the town, and at every other corner there is
some spot of great interest. To describe them
all briefly would more than fill the pages of this
book.

Nor are colleges the only delightful buildings
in this city of beautiful places. There is the
famous Sheldonian Theatre, built from Wren's
plans: this follows the model of an ancient
Roman theatre, and will seat four thousand
people. There is the celebrated Bodleian
Library, founded as early as 1602, and con-
taining a rich collection of rare Eastern and
Greek and Latin books and manuscripts. The
Bodleian, like the British Museum, has the
right to call for a copy of every book published
in the United Kingdom.

But Oxford has known a life other than that

255

FATHER THAMES

of a university town: it has been in its time a
military centre of some importance. As we
sweep round northwards in the train from
London, just before we enter the city, the great
square tower of the Castle stands out, one of
the most prominent objects in the town. And
it is really one of the most interesting too,
though few find time to visit it. So absorbed
are most folk in the churches and chapels, the
libraries and college halls, with their exquisite
carvings and ornamentations and their lovely
gardens, that they forget this frowning relic
of the Conqueror's day — the most lasting
monument of the city. Built in 1071 by
Robert d'Oilly, boon companion of the Con-
queror, it has stood the test of time through
all these centuries. Like Windsor, that other
Norman stronghold, it has seen little enough
of actual fighting: in Oxford the pen has nearly
always been mightier than the sword.

One brief episode of war it had when Stephen
shut up his cousin, the Empress Maud, within
its walls in the autumn of 1142. Then Oxford
tasted siege if not assault, and the castle was

256

OXFORD

locked up for three months. However, the
River and the weather contrived to save Maud,
for, just as provisions were giving out and
surrender was only a matter of days, there came
a severe frost and the waters were thickly
covered. Then it was that the Empress with
but two or three white-clad attendants escaped
across the ice and made her way to Wallingford,
while her opponents closely guarded the roads
and bridges.

Nor in our consideration of the glories of this
beloved old city must we forget the River —
— for no one in the place forgets it. Perhaps
we should not speak of the River, for Oxford
is the fortunate possessor of two, standing as
it does in the fork created by the flowing
together of the Thames and the Cherwell.
The Thames, as we have already seen, flows
thither from the west, while the Cherwell makes
its way southwards from Edgehill; and, though
we are accustomed to think of the Thames as
the main stream, the geologists, whose business
it is to make a close study of the earth's surface,
tell us that the Cherwell is in reality the more

257 R

FATHER THAMES

important of the two; that down its valley in
the far-away past flowed a great river which
with the Kennet was the ancestor of the present-
day River ; that the tributary Thames has grown
so much that it has been able to capture and
take over as its own the valley of the Cherwell
from Oxford onwards to Reading. But that,
of course, is a story of the very dim past, long
before the days of history.

The Cherwell is a very pretty little stream,
shaded by overhanging willows and other trees,
so that it is usually the haunt of pleasure, the
place where the undergraduate takes his own
or somebody else's sister for an afternoon's
excursion, or where he makes his craft fast in
the shade in order that he may enjoy an after-
noon's quiet reading. A walk through the
meadows on its banks is, indeed, something
very pleasant, with the stream on one side of
us and that most beautiful of colleges, Magdalen,
on the other. Here as we proceed down the
famous avenue of pollard willows, winding
between two branches of the stream, we can
hear almost continuously the singing of in*

258

OXFORD

numerable birds, for the Oxford gardens and
meadows form a veritable sanctuary in which
live feathered friends of every sort.

But the Thames (or Isis as it is invariably
called in Oxford) is the place of more serious
matters. To the rowing man " the River "
means only one thing, and really only a very
short space of that: he is accustomed to speak
of " the River " and " the Cher," and with him
the latter does not count at all. Everybody in
the valley, certainly every boy and girl, knows
about the Oxford and Cambridge Boatrace,
which is held annually on the Thames at Putney,
when two selected crews from the rival uni-
versities race each other over a distance.
Probably quite a few of us have witnessed the
exciting event. Well, " Boatrace Day " is
merely the final act of a long drama, nearly all
the scenes of which take place, not at Putney,
but on the river at the University town. For
the Varsity " eight " are only chosen from the
various college crews after long months of
arduous preparation. Each of the colleges has
its own rowing club, and the college crews race

259

FATHER THAMES

against each other in the summer term. A fine
sight it is, too, to see the long thin " eights "
passing at a great pace in front of the beautifully
decorated " Barges," which are to the college
rowing clubs what pavilions are to the cricket
clubs.

These "barges," which stretch along the
river-front for some considerable distance, re-
semble nothing so much as the magnificent
houseboats which we see lower down the river
at Henley, Maidenhead, Molesey, etc. They
are fitted up inside with bathrooms and dressing-
rooms, and comfortable lounges and reading-
rooms, while their flat tops are utilised by the
rowing men for sitting at ease and chatting
to their friends. Each college has its own
" barge," and it is a point of honour to make it
and keep it a credit to the college. The long
string of "barges" form a very beautiful
picture, particularly when the river is quiet,
and the finely decorated vessels with their
background of green trees are reflected in the
smooth waters.

May is the great time for the River at Oxford,
260

OXFORD

for then are held the races of the senior " crews "

or " eights." Then for a week the place, both

shore and stream, is gay with pretty dresses

and merry laughter, for mothers and sisters,

cousins and friends, flock to Oxford in their

hundreds to see the fun. But to the rowing

man it is a time of hard work — with more in

prospect if he is lucky; for, just as the " eights "

of this week have been selected from the crews

of the February " torpids " or junior races, so

from those doing well during " eights week "

may be chosen the University crew — the " blues."

Many have been the voices which have sung

the praises of the " city of spires," for many

have loved her. None more so perhaps than

Matthew Arnold, whose poem " The Scholar

Gypsy " — the tale of a University lad who was

by poverty forced to leave his studies and join

himself to a company of vagabond gipsies,

from whom he gained a knowledge beyond that

of the scholars — is so well known. Says Arnold

of the city: " And yet as she lies, spreading her

gardens to the moonlight, and whispering from

her towers the last enchantments of the Middle

261

FATHER THAMES

Ages, who will deny that Oxford, by her in-
effable charm, keeps ever calling us nearer to
the true goal of all of us, to the ideal, to per-
fection— to beauty, in a word ?"

There are many interesting places within
walking distance of Oxford, but perhaps few
more delightful to the eye than old Iffiey Church.
This ancient building with its fine old Norman
tower is a landmark of the countryside and well
deserves the attention given to it.

262

CHAPTER THREE

Abingdon, Walling ford, and the Goring Gap

Between Oxford and Reading lies a land of
shadows — a district dotted with towns which
have shrunk to a mere vestige of their former
greatness. To mention three names only —
Abingdon, Dorchester, and Wallingford — is to
conjure up a picture of departed glory.

At Abingdon, centuries ago, was one of those
great abbeys which stretched in a chain east-
wards, and helped to ensure the prosperity
of the valley; and the town sprang up and
prospered, as was so often the case, under the
shadow of the great ecclesiastical foundation.
Unfortunately the monks and the citizens
were constantly at loggerheads. The wealthy
dwellers in the abbey, where the Conqueror's
own son, Henry Beauclerc, had been educated,
and where the greatest in the land were wont to
come, did not approve of tradesmen and other

263

FATHER THAMES

common folk congregating so near the sacred
edifice. Thus in 1327 the proud mitred Abbot
refused to allow the citizens to hold a market
in the town, and a riot ensued, in which the folk
of Abingdon were backed up by the Mayor of

Abingdon.

Oxford and a considerable crowd of the Uni-
versity students. A great part of the Abbey
was burned down, many of its records were
destroyed, and the monks were driven out.
But the tradesmen's triumph was shortlived,
for the Abbot returned with powerful support,

264

ABINGDON AND WALLINGFORD

and certain of the ringleaders were hanged for
their share in the disturbance.

However, the town grew despite the frowns
of the Church, and it soon became a considerable
centre for the cloth trade. Not only did it
make cloth itself, but much of the traffic which
there was between London and the western
cloth-towns — Gloucester, Stroud, Cirencester,
etc. — passed through Abingdon, particularly
when its bridge had been built by John Huchyns
and Geoffrey Barbur in 1416.

When, in 1538, the abbey was suppressed,
the townsfolk rejoiced at the downfall of the
rich and arrogant monks, and sought pleasure
and revenge in the destruction of the former
home of their enemies. So that in these days
there is not a great deal remaining of the ancient
fabric.

A few miles below Abingdon is Dorchester
(not to be confused with the Dorset town of
the same name), not exactly on the River,
but about a mile up the tributary river, the
Thame, which here comes wandering through
the meadows to join the main stream. Like

265

FATHER THAMES

Abingdon, Dorchester has had its day, but its
abbey church remains, built on the site of
the ancient and extremely important Saxon
cathedral ; and, one must confess, it seems
strangely out of place in such a sleepy little
village.

Wallingford, even more than these, has lost
its ancient prestige, for it was through several
centuries a great stronghold and a royal residence.
We have only to look at the map of the Thames
Valley, and note how the various roads converge
on this particularly useful ford, to see immedi-
ately Wallingford' s importance from a military
and a commercial point of view. A powerful
castle to guard such a valuable key to the
midlands, or the south-west, was inevitable.

William the Conqueror, passing that way
in order that he might discover a suitable
crossing, and so get round to the north of
London (p. 143), was shown the ford by one
Wygod, the ruling thane of the district; and
naturally William realized at once the possi-
bilities of the place. A powerful castle soon
arose in place of the old earthworks, and this

266

ABINGDON AND WALLINGFORD

castle lasted on till the Civil War, figuring
frequently in the many struggles that occurred
during the next three or four hundred years.

It played an important part in that prolonged
and bitter struggle between Stephen and the
Empress Maud, and suffered a very long siege.
Again, in 1646, at the time of the Civil War, it
was beset for sixty-five days by the Parlia-
mentary armies; and, after a gallant stand by
the Royalist garrison, was practically destroyed
by Fairfax, who saw fit to blow it up. So that
now very little stands: just a few crumbling
walls and one window incorporated in the
fabric of a private residence.

Between Wallingford and Reading lies what
is, from the geographical point of view, one of
the most interesting places in the whole length
of the Thames Valley — Goring Gap.

You will see from a contour map that the
Thames Basin, generally speaking, is a hill-
encircled valley with gently undulating ground,
except in the one place where the Marlborough-
Chiltern range of chalk hills sweep right across
the valley.

267

FATHER THAMES

By the time the River reaches Goring Gap it
has fallen from a height of about six hundred
feet above sea-level to a height of about one
hundred feet above sea-level; and there rises
from the river on each side a steep slope four
or five hundred feet high — Streatley Hill on
the Berkshire side and Goring Heath on the
Oxfordshire side.

The question arises, Why should these two
ranges of hills, the Marlborough Downs and the
Chiltern Hills, meet just at this point ? Is it
simply an accident of geography that their
two ends stand exactly face to face on opposite
sides of the Thames ?

Now the geologists tell us that it is no
coincidence. They have studied the strata —
that is, the different layers of the materials
forming the hills — and they find that the strata
of the range on the Berkshire side compare
exactly with the strata of the other; so that at
some remote period the two must have been
joined to form one unbroken range. How
then did the gap come ? Was it due to a
cracking of the hill — a double crack with the

268

GORING GAP

earth slipping down in between, as has some-
times happened in the past ? Here again the
geologists tells us, No. Moreover they tell us
that undoubtedly the River has cut its way
right through the chalk hills.

" But how can that be possible ?" someone
says. " Here we have the Thames down in a
low-lying plain on the north-west side of the
hills, and down in the valley on the south-east
side. How could a river flowing across a plain
get up to the heights to commence the wearing
away at the tops ?" Here again the geologists
must come to our aid. They tell us that back
in that dim past, so interesting to picture yet
so difficult to grasp, when the ancient, mighty
River flowed (see Book I., Intro.), the chalk-
lands extended from the Chilterns westwards,
that there was no valley where now Oxford,
Abingdon, and Lechlade lie, but that the River
flowed across the top of a tableland of chalk
from its sources in the higher grounds of the
west to the brink at or near the eastern slope
of the Chilterns ; and that from this lofty position
the River was able to wear its way down, and

269

FATHER THAMES

so make a V-shaped cutting in the end of the
table-land. Afterwards there came an altera-
tion in the surface. Some tremendous internal
movement caused the land gradually to fold up,
as it were ; so that the tableland sagged down in
the middle, leaving the Marlborough-Chiltern
hills on the one side and the Cotswold-Edgehill
range on the other, with the Oxford valley in
between. But by this time the V-shaped gap
had been cut sufficiently low to allow the River
to flow through the hills, and to go on cutting
its way still lower and lower.

270

CHAPTER FOUR

Reading

Reading is without doubt the most disappoint-
ing town in the whole of the Thames Valley.
It has had such a full share of history, far more
than other equally famous towns; has been
favoured by the reigning monarch of the land
through many centuries; has taken sides in
internal strife and felt the tide of war surging
round its gates; it has counted for so much in
the life of England that one feels almost a sense
of loss in finding it just a commonplace manu-
facturing town, with not a semblance of any
of its former glory.

Like many other towns in England, it sprang
up round a religious house — one of the string
of important abbeys which stretched from
Abingdon to Westminster. But before that it
had been recognized as an important position.

We have seen that Oxford, Wallingford, and
other places came into existence by reason of

271

FATHER THAMES

their important fords across the River. Reading
arose into being because the long and narrow
peninsula formed by the junction of the Kennet
with the Thames was such a splendid spot for
defensive purposes that right from early days
there had been some sort of a stronghold there.

Here in this very safe place, then, the Con-
queror's son established his great foundation,
the Cluniac Abbey of Reading, for the support
of two hundred monks and for the refreshment
of travellers. It was granted ample revenues,
and given many valuable privileges, among
them that of coining money. Its Abbot was a
mitred Abbot, and had the right to sit with the
lords spiritual in Parliament. From its very
foundation it prospered, rising rapidly into a
position of eminence; and, like the other abbeys,
it did much towards the growth of the agri-
cultural prosperity of the valley, encouraging
the countryfolk to drain and cultivate their
lands properly.

Though we first hear of it as a fortified place,
and though at different times in history it felt
the shock of war, Reading was never an im-

272

READING

portant military centre, for the simple reason
that it did not guard a main road across or
beside the River. Consequently the interrup-
tions in its steady progress were few and far

iyading Abbey ' <~s

between, and the place was left to develop its
civilian and religious strength. This it did so
well that during the four hundred years of the
life of the Abbey it always counted for much
with the Sovereigns, who went there to be

273 s

FATHER THAMES

entertained, and even in time of pestilence
brought thither their parliaments, whose bodies
were in the end buried there. By the thirteenth
century the Abbey had risen to such a position
that only Westminster could vie with it in
wealth and magnificence.

And now what remains of it all ? Almost
nothing. There is what is called the old Abbey
gateway, but it is merely a reconstruction with
some of the ancient materials. In the Forbury
Gardens lie all that is left, just one or two ivy-
grown fragments of massive masonry, outlining
perhaps the Chapter House, in which the
parliaments were held, and the great Abbey
Church, dedicated to St. Thomas Becket,
where were the royal tombs and where in 1339
John of Gaunt was married. For the rest, the
ruins have served all and sundry as a quarry
for ready-prepared building stone during several
centuries. Much of it was used to make St. Mary's
Church and the Hospital of the Poor Knights
of Windsor ; while still more was commandeered
by General Conway for the construction of the
bridge between Henley and Wargrave.

274

READING

How did the Abbey come to such a state of
dilapidation ? Largely as a result of the Civil
War. The Abbey was dissolved in 1539, and
the Abbot actually hung, drawn, and quartered,
because of his defiance. The royal tombs,
where were buried Henry I., the Empress Maud,
and others, were destroyed and the bones
scattered; and from that time onwards things
went from bad to worse. Henry VII. converted
parts of it into a palace for himself and used it
for a time, but in Elizabethan days it had got
into such a very bad state that the Queen, who
stayed there half-a-dozen times, gave per-
mission for the rotting timbers and many cart-
loads of stone to be removed. But it remained
a dwelling till the eventual destruction during the
Rebellion.

During the war which proved so disastrous
for the great Abbey, Reading was decidedly
Royalist, but the fortunes of war brought
several changes for it. It withstood for some
time during 1643 a severe siege by the Earl of
Essex, and, just as relief was at hand, it sur-
rendered. Then Royalists and Parliamentarians

275

FATHER THAMES

in turn held the town; and naturally with these
changes and the fighting involved the place
suffered greatly, especially the outstanding
building, the Abbey. St. Giles' Church, which
escaped destruction, still bears the marks of the
bombardment.

But the town refused to die with the Abbey.
The Abbey had done much to establish and
vitalize the town. In its encouragement of the
agriculture of the districts it had created the
necessity for a central market-town, and Reading
had grown and flourished accordingly. Thus,
when the Abbey came to an end, the town was
so firmly established that it was enabled to live
on and prosper exceedingly.

Now Reading passes its days independent,
almost unconscious, of the past, with its glory
and its tragedy. Nor does the River any more
enter into its calculations. To Reading has
come the railway; and the railway has made
the modern town what it is — an increasingly
important manufacturing town and railway
junction, and a ready centre for the rich agri-
cultural land round about it ; a hive of industry,

276

READING

with foundries, workshops, big commercial
buildings, and a University College; with
churches, chapels, picture-palaces, and fast-
moving electric-tramcars, clanging their way
along streets thronged with busy, hurrying
people — in short, a typical, clean, modern
industrial town, with nothing very attractive
about it, but on the other hand nothing to repel
or disgust.

Reading's most famous industries are biscuit-
making and seed-growing. Messrs. Huntley and
Palmer's biscuits, in the making of which four
or five thousand people are employed, are known
the world over; and so are Messrs. Sutton's
seeds, grown in, and advertised by, many acres
of beautiful gardens.

The Kennet, on which the town really stands,
is a river which has lost its ancient power,
for the geologists tell us that along its valley the
real mighty river once ran, receiving the con-
siderable Cherwell-Thames tributary at this
point. Now, whereas the tributary has grown
in importance if not in size, the main stream has
shrunk to such an enormous extent that the

■±77

FATHER THAMES

tributary has become the river, and the river
the tributary. Of course, passing through
Reading the little river loses its beauty, but the
Kennet which comes down from the western
end of the Marlborough Downs and flows
through the Berkshire meadows is a delightful
little stieam.

278

CHAPTER FIVE

Holiday Thames — Henley to Maidenhead

The western half of that portion of the River
which has for its bank the county of Bucking-
hamshire might well be spoken of as " holiday
Thames," for it is on this lovely stretch that a
great part of the more important river pleasure-
making is done. Certainly we get boating at
Richmond, Kingston, Molesey, etc., nearer the
metropolis, but it is of the Saturday or Sunday
afternoon sort, where Londoners, weary from
the week's labours, find rest and solace in a
few brief hours of leisurely punting or rowing.
But, between Maidenhead and Henley, at places
like Sonning, Pangbourne, and Cookham, folk
live on or by the River, either in houseboats
or waterside cottages, and the River is not just
a diversion, but is for the time being the all-
important thing.

Nor is this difficult to understand, for the River
here is extraordinarily beautiful — a place to

279

FATHER THAMES

linger in and dream away the hours. Henley,
which commences the stretch, lies just within
the borders of Oxfordshire, and here is cele-
brated what is, next to the Boatrace at Putney,

SONNING.

the most famous of all Thames festivals — for
Henley Regatta draws rowing men (and women)
from all parts, and crews come from both the
Old World and the New to compete in the open
races. The River then is almost covered with

280

HENLEY TO MAIDENHEAD

craft of all sorts moored closely together, with
just a narrow water-lane down the centre for
the passage of the competing boats; and the
bright dresses and gay parasols of the ladies,
with the background of green trees, all reflected

Henley.

in the water, make a brilliant and pleasing
spectacle.

A few miles below Henley is Great Marlow,
a clean and compact little riverside town,
whose chief interest lies, perhaps, in the fact

281

FATHER THAMES

that here the poet Shelley lived for a time,
writing some of his wonderful poems. Shelley
spent much of his time on the River, and
learned to love it very much, so that in after
years we find him writing from Italy: " My
thoughts for ever cling to Windsor Forest and
the copses of Marlow."

The seven miles between Marlow and Maiden-
head contain the most glorious scenery in the
whole valley, for the River here for a considerable
distance flows between gently rising hills whose
slopes are richly wooded, the trees in many
places coming right down to the water's edge.
Alike in spring, when the fresh young green is
spreading over the hillsides, and in autumn,
when the woods are afire with every tint of
gold and brown, the Cliveden Woods and the
Quarry Woods of Marlow, with their mirrored
reflections in the placid waters below, are
indescribably beautiful. Above the woods, high
on the Buckingham bank, stands Cliveden
House, magnificently situated. In the old
mansion which formerly stood on the spot
was first performed Thomson's masque " Alfred."

282

HENLEY TO MAIDENHEAD

This is very interesting, for the masque con-
tained " Rule, Britannia," composed by Dr.
Arne; so here the tune was sung in public for
the first time.

At various spots along the stretch we can see
quite clearly the terraces which indicate the
alteration in the position of the river-bed.
High up towards the tops, sometimes actually
at the tops of the hillsides, are the shallow,
widespread gravel beds which show where in
the dim past the original great Thames flowed
(see Book I., Intro.). Then lower down come
other terraces, with more gravel beds, to show
a second position of the River, when, after
centuries, it had cut its way lower and dimin-
ished in volume. Thus:

V */*£> SrtA t.i.£:* '''■'/y/V'Vy%(////j/ ' ' //'/ r'''"' '''''* '''''v//

> i ' ■ // //////.- ///// •;.-< , ',/>/, / //'/■ .-.- <///////.'//// -•-//.

Diagram of the Thames Valley Terraces.

Well-marked terraces can be found on the
Berkshire side of the River between Maiden-
head and Cookham, also at Remenham not far

283

FATHER THAMES

from Henley. They are visible on both sides
of the River at Reading. Above Reading
similar terraces, with their beds of river
gravel, may be seen at Culham and Cholsey,
between Radley and Abingdon, and also at
Oxford.

284

CHAPTER SIX

Windsor

Windsor Castle, seen from the River at Clewer
as we make our way downstream, provides us
with one of the most magnificent views in the
whole valley. Standing there, high on its
solitary chalk hill, with the glowing red roofs
of the town beneath and the rich green of the
numerous trees clustering all round its base,
the whole bathed in summer sunshine, it is a
superb illustration of what a castle should be —
ever-present, magnificent, defiant.

Yet, despite its wonderful situation, the finest
without doubt in all the south of England,
Windsor has had little or no history, has rarely
beaten off marauding foes, and seldom taken
any part in great national struggles. Built for a
fortress, it has been through the centuries nothing
more than a palace.

Erected by the builder of the Tower, William
of Normandy, and probably for the same

285

FATHER THAMES

purpose, it has passed in many ways through a
parallel existence, has been just what the Tower

Windsor Castle.

has been — an intended stronghold, a prison,
and a royal residence. Yet, whereas the Tower

286

WINDSOR

has been intimately bound up with the life of
England through many centuries, Windsor has,
with just one or two brief exceptions, been a
thing apart, something living its life in the quiet
backwaters of history.

The Windsor district was always a favourite
one with the rulers of the land even before the
existence of the Castle. Tradition speaks of a
hunting - lodge, deep in the glades of the Old
Windsor Forest, close by the river, as belonging
to the redoubtable King Arthur, and declares
that here he and his Knights of the Round Table
stayed when they hunted in the greenwood or
sallied forth on those quests of adventure with
which we are all familiar. Wrhat is more certain,
owing to the bringing to light of actual remains,
is that Old Windsor was a Roman station.
Certainly it was a favourite haunt of the Saxon
kings, who in all probability had a palace of
some sort there, close to the Roman road which
passed by way of Staines to the camp at Sil-
chester ; and its value must have been thoroughly
recognized. Edward the Confessor in particular
was especially fond of the place, and^when he

287

FATHER THAMES

founded and suitably endowed his wonderful
Abbey at Westminster he included " Windsor
and Staines and all that thereto belongs "
among his valuable grants to the foundation
over which his friend Edwin presided.

In those days the Castle Hill was not even
named. True, its possibilities as a strategic
point were recognized, by Harold if by no other,
for we read in the ancient records that Harold
held on that spot four-and-a-half hides of land
for defensive purposes.

But it remained for William the Conqueror,
that splendid soldier and mighty hunter, to
recognize the double possibilities of Windsor.
Naturally, following his victory, he made him-
self familiar with Harold's possessions, and,
coming shortly to Windsor, saw therein the
means of gratifying two of his main interests.
He inspected the ancient Saxon royal dwelling
and saw at once its suitability as a retiring
place for the King, surrounded by the great
forest and quite close to that most convenient
of highways, the River. And at the same time,
warrior as he was, he understood the value of

288

WINDSOR

the little chalk hill which stood out from the
encompassing clay.

Certainly it belonged to the Abbey as a
" perpetual inheritance," but to such as William
that was not likely to matter much. All
England was his: he could offer what he liked.
So he chose for exchange two fat manors in
Essex — Wokendune and Feringes — fine, pros-
perous agricultural places, totally different
from the unproductive wastelands of Windsor
Hill; and the Abbot, wise man that he was,
jumped at the exchange. Thus the Church
was satisfied, no violence was done, and William
secured both the Forest and the magnificent
little hill commanding then, as it does now,
many miles of the Thames Valley.

Why did he want it ? For two reasons.
In the first place, he wanted an impregnable
fortress within striking distance of London.
True, under his orders Gundulf had built the
Tower, frowning down on the city of London;
but a fortress which is almost a part of the
city, even though it be built with the one idea
of striking awe into the citizens, is really too

289 T

FATHER THAMES

close at hand to be secure. A fortress slightly
aloof, and therefore not quite so liable to
sudden surprise, yet within a threatening
distance, had vastly greater possibilities.

William's other great passion was " the
chase." Listen to what the ancient chronicler
said about him: " He made many deer-parks;
and he established laws therewith ; so that who-
soever slew a hart or a hind should be deprived
of his eyesight. He loved the tall deer as if he
were their father. Hares he decreed should
go free. His rich men bemoaned it; and the
poor men shuddered at it. But he was so
stern, that he recked not the hatred of them all ;
for they must follow withal the King's will if they
would live, or have land, or possessions, or even
his peace." For this the surrounding forests
rendered the position of Windsor a delightful one.

Thus came into existence the Norman Keep
of Windsor Hill, and beneath it shortly after
the little settlement of New Windsor. When
Domesday Book was prepared the little place
had reached the number of one hundred houses,
and thenceforward its progress was steady.

290

WINDSOR

By the time of Edward I. it had developed to
such an extent that it was granted a charter —
which document may still be seen in the Bodleian
Library at Oxford.

With the Kings that came after the Con-
queror Windsor soon became a favourite
residence. Henry I., marrying a Saxon Princess,
Edith, niece of the Confessor, lived there and built
a fine dwelling-place with a Chapel dedicated to
the Confessor and a wall surrounding everything.

During the reign of John, Windsor was
besieged on more than one occasion, and it was
from its fastness that the most wretched King
who ever ruled — or misruled — England crept
out to meet the Barons near Runnymede, just
over the Surrey border.

Henry III., finding the old fabric seriously
damaged by the sieges, determined to rebuild
on a grander scale, and he restored the walls,
raised the first Round Tower, the Lower and
Middle Wards, and a Chapel; but, save one or
two fragments, all these have perished.

However, it is to Edward of Windsor— the
third King of that name — that we must look as

291

FATHER THAMES

the real founder of the Windsor of to-day. He
rebuilt the Chapel and practically all the struc-
tures of Henry III., and added the Upper Ward.
In connection with this last a very interesting
story is told. Edward had on the spot two very
distinguished prisoners — King David of Scotland
and King John of France — rather more like
unwilling guests than prisoners, since they had
plenty of liberty and shared in the amusements
of the Court. One day the two were strolling
with Edward in the Lower Ward, taking stock
of the new erections, when King John made
some such remark as this: "Your Grace's
castle would be better on the higher ground
up yonder. You yourself would be able to see
more, and the castle would be visible a greater
way off." In which opinion he was backed by
the King of Scotland. Edward's reply must
have surprised the pair of them, for he said:
" It shall be as you say. I will enlarge the
Castle by adding another ward, and your
ransoms shall pay the bill." But Edward's
threat was never carried out. King David's
ransom was paid in 1337, but it only amounted

292

WINDSOR

to 100,000 marks; while that of King John,
a matter of a million and a half of our money,
was never paid, and John returned to England
to die in the year 1363 in the Palace of the
Savoy.

In the building of Windsor, Edward had for
his architect, or superintendent, a very famous
man, William W^ykeham, the founder and builder
of Winchester School and New College, Oxford.
Wykeham's salary was fixed at one shilling a
day while at Windsor, and two shillings while
travelling on business connected with the
Castle. Wykeham's chief work was the erection
of the Great Quadrangle, a task which took him
ten years to complete. While there at work,
he had a stone engraved with the Latin words,
Hoc fecit Wykeham, which translated means
" WTykeham made this." Edward was enraged
when he saw this inscription, for he wanted no
man to share with him the glory of rebuilding
Windsor; and he called his servant to account
for his unwise action. WTykeham's reply was
very ingenious, for he declared that he had
meant the motto to read: " This made Wyke-

293

FATHER THAMES

ham " (for the words can be translated thus).
The ready answer appeased the King's wrath.

The method by which the building was done
was that of forced labour — a mild form of
slavery. Edward, instead of engaging workmen
in the ordinary way, demanded from each
county in England so many masons, so many
carpenters, so many tilers, after the fashion of
the feudal method of obtaining an army. There
were 360 of them, and they did not all come
willingly, for certain of them were thrown into
prison in London for running away. Slowly
the work proceeded, but in 1361 the plague
carried off many of the craftsmen, and new
demands were made on Yorkshire, Shropshire,
and Devon, to provide sixty more stone-workers
each. When at length the structure was com-
pleted in 1369, it included most of the best parts
of Windsor Castle — the Great Quadrangle, the
Round Tower, St. George's Hall and Chapel,
and the outer walls with their gates and turrets.

The Chapel was repaired later on, under the
direction of another distinguished Englishman,
Geoffrey Chaucer, the father of English poetry,

294

WINDSOR

who for over a year was " master of the King's
works " at Windsor. In 1473 the Chapel had
become so dilapidated that it was necessary to
pull it down, and Edward IV. erected in its place
an exceedingly beautiful St. George's Chapel, as
an act of atonement for all the shed blood through
which he had wallowed his way to the throne.

Queen Elizabeth was very fond indeed of
Windsor, and frequently came thither in her
great barge. She built a banqueting hall and a
gallery, and formed the fine terrace which bears
her name. This terrace, on the north side, above
the steep, tree-planted scarp which falls away
to the river valley, is an ideal place. Behind
rise the State Apartments: in front stretches a
magnificent panorama across Eton and the plain.
On this terrace the two Charleses loved to stroll ;
and George III. was accustomed to walk every
day with his family, just an ordinary country
gentleman rubbing shoulders with his neighbours.

It is a wonderful place, is Windsor Castle —
very impressive and in places very beautiful;
but there is so much to write about that one
scarcely knows where to begin. Going up

295

'FATHER THAMES

Castle Hill, we turn sharp to the left, and, passing
through the Gateway of Henry VIII., we are
in the Lower Ward, with St. George's Chapel
facing us in all its beauty.

This fine perpendicular Chapel is, indeed,
worthy of the illustrious order, the Knights
of the Garter, for whom it is a place both
of worship and of ceremonial.

The Order of the Knights of the Garter was
founded by Edward III. in the year 1349, and
there were great doings at Windsor on the
appointed day — St. George's Day. Splendid
pageants, grand tournaments, and magnificent
feasts, with knights in bright armour and their
ladies in the gayest of colours, were by no means
uncommon in those days; but on this occasion
the spectacle was without parallel for brilliance,
for Edward had summoned to the great tourna-
ment all the bravest and most famous knights
in Christendom, and all had come save those
of Spain, forbidden by their suspicious King.
From their number twenty-six were chosen to
found the Order, with the King at their head.

St. George's Chapel has some very beautiful
296

WINDSOR

stained-glass windows, some fine tracery in its
roof, and a number of very interesting monu-
ments. The carved stalls in the choir, with the
banners of the knights drooping overhead,
remind us certainly of the Henry VII. Chapel
at Westminster. Within the Chapel walls have
been enacted some wonderful scenes — scenes
pleasing, and scenes memorable for their sorrow.
Here have been brought, at the close of their busy
lives, many of England's sovereigns, and here
some of them — Henry VI. and Edward IV. among
them — rest from their labours. Oueen Victoria,
who loved Windsor, lies with her husband in the
Royal Tomb at Frogmore, not far away.

The Round Tower, which stands practically
in the centre of the clustered buildings and
surmounts everything, is always one of the most
interesting places. From its battlements may
be seen on a clear day no less than twelve
counties. We can trace the River for miles
and miles as it comes winding down the valley
from Clewer and Boveney, to pass away into the
distance where we can just faintly discern the
dome of St. Paul's.

297

CHAPTER SEVEN
Eton College

Standing on the north terrace, or on the
hundred steps which ascend from Thames
Street, with behind us the fabric which William
Wykeham did so much to fashion, we gaze out
to yet another place which Wykeham made
possible — the famous College of Eton.

True, he had nothing whatever to do with
the building of Eton itself, but he founded Win-
chester School, which is commonly spoken of as
England's oldest public school; and this served
the boy-king, Henry VI., as a model for his new
foundation, so that Eton is in many respects,
both as regards buildings and management, a
copy of the older place.

The first charter is dated 1441. Henry
was then only nineteen years old, yet he says
that " from the very foundation of his riper
age" he dreamed of "a solemn school at Eton

298

ETON COLLEGE

where a great number of children should be
freely taught the rules of grammar." The
school was to be called " The Kynges College
of oure Ladye of Eton, beside Wyndesore."

Henry, in order that he might be certain he
and his assistants were following the excellent

Winchester model, paid a number of visits to
that school, and made a close study of its ways.
There he was brought much into contact with
William Waynflete, who had become master of
Winchester in 1429 and done much to keep the
school at its high level; and the result was that

299

FATHER THAMES

in 1442 Henry persuaded him to become the
first master of Eton, whither he came, bringing
with him from the older foundation half a dozen
favourite scholars to be a model for all new-
comers. Eton began with " twenty-five poor
scholars " to be educated at the King's cost,
but this number was soon increased to seventy.

Henry did not live to see his splendid scheme
in being. In fact, the beautiful chapel which he
had designed was never completed at all; more-
over, the fabric itself, which he had desired to
be made of " the hard stone of Kent," was very
largely built of brick. Nor did the College as a
whole rise into being in one great effort. Like
most historic buildings, it grew little by little
into its present self, with just a bit added here
and a bit renovated there, so that the whole
thing is a medley of styles.

In these days Eton, like most of the big
public schools, is far from being what its founder
intended it to be — a school for the instruction
of deserving poor boys. Instead it has become
a very exclusive college for the education of
the sons of the rich.

300

ETON COLLEGE

There are usually just over eleven hundred
boys in residence, seventy of whom are known
as " collegers," while the other thousand odd are
called " oppidans." For the old statute which
decided on the number of " collegers " as seventy
is still obeyed, and Henry's wish is kept in the
letter, if not in the spirit. The " collegers " live
in the actual College buildings, have their meals
in the College Hall; and they wear cloth gowns
to distinguish them from the rest of the scholars.
These other thousand odd boys, the sons of
gentlemen and other folk who can afford to pay
the great sum of money necessary, live in the
various masters' houses, which are built close
at hand.

The " collegers," who win their positions as
the result of a stiff examination, are practically
the holders of very valuable scholarships, for
they pay only small sums towards their expenses.
And, generally speaking, they have a better
time of it, even though they may be looked
down on and called " tugs " by some of the more
snobbish "oppidans "; for the College buildings
are better than most of the houses. Moreover,

301

FATHER THAMES

the " collegers " have two large playing fields
of their own, so that they can avoid the crush
in the school fields.

Just when the " oppidans " began to take
their place is by no means certain; but it could
not have been very long after the foundation,
for there is actually in existence the letter of an
" oppidan" written in the year 1467, forty years
after the opening. It is a very interesting letter,
written to the boy's elder brother, and enclosing
for his inspection a specimen of the writer's
Latin verses (the making of Latin verse has
always been a speciality at Eton). The letter
also suggests the forwarding of " 12 lbs. of figgs
and 8 lbs. of raisins," so, you see, boys were
boys even in those far-off days.

Many of Eton's most picturesque customs
have either died out or been suppressed by the
authorities. One of the more famous of these
was " Mont em," given up in 1847. On a certain
day, once every three years, the scholars marched
in procession to Salt Hill — that is, to " the
mountain " (ad montem means " to the moun-
tain"); and there certain of their number

302

ETON COLLEGE

made a collection of money from all and sundry,
giving little pieces of salt in exchange. Usually
royalty from Windsor met them there, and
contributed generously to the fund. " Mon-
tem " was a gay festival, for fancy-dress was the
order of the day, and there was plenty of noise
and colour as the merry procession made its
way up the hill to the music of several bands,
followed by a crowd of visitors. In 1846 the
authorities decided to put an end to the cele-
bration, because with the coming of the railway
to Windsor an unwelcome crowd of excursionists
presented itself each year, and the picturesque
gathering degenerated into a vulgar rabble.
One old custom which still survives is " Three-
penny Day." On the 27th day of February
each year, the anniversary of the death of a
Provost named Lupton, builder of the pic-
turesque gateway, each of the " collegers " re-
ceives a bright new threepenny-bit, provision
for which is made in a sum of money left by
Lupton and another Provost.

Eton, like that other and older seat of learn-
ing to which many Etonians make the journey

FATHER THAMES

up the valley, gains much from its nearness to
the River, for swimming and rowing are two
favourite pastimes with the boys of this school.
The latter pastime reaches its zenith on the
" fourth of June " — the great day which Eton
keeps in honour of George III.'s birthday.
Then the College is besieged by hundreds of
relatives and friends, and there is a fine water-
carnival on the River.

304

CHAPTER EIGHT

Hampton Court

Nearly twenty miles below Windsor we come
upon the ancient palace of Hampton, better
known in these days as Hampton Court, beauti-
fully situated among tall trees not far from the
river bank. It is a wonderful old place — one
of the nation's priceless possessions — and once
inside we are loth to leave it, for there is some-
thing attractive about its quaint old court-
yards and its restful, bird-haunted gardens.

Certainly it is the largest royal palace in
England, and in some respects it is the finest.
Yet, strangely enough, it was not built for a
King, nor has any sovereign lived in it since the
days of George II. Wolsey, the proud Cardinal
of Henry VIII. 's days, erected it for his own
private mansion, and it is still the Cardinal's
fabric which we look upon as we pass through the
older portions of the great pile of buildings.

Wolsey was, as you probably know, the son
305 u

FATHER THAMES

of a comparatively poor man, yet he was
possessed of great gifts, and when he left
Oxford he soon rose to a position of eminence.
The Kings, first of all Henry VII., then " bluff

Hampton Court, Garden Front.

King Hal," showered honours and gifts on
him. The Pope created him a Cardinal, and
Henry VIII. gave him the powerful position
of Lord Chancellor of England. Wolsey, as
befitted his high station, lived a life of great

306

HAMPTON COURT

splendour, the pomp and show of his household
rivalling even that of the King. Naturally such
a man would have the best, even of palaces.

As we pass through the wonderful old courts
of the Cardinal's dwelling we can imagine the
vast amount of money which it must have cost
to build, for it was magnificent in those days
quite beyond parallel; and we cannot wonder
that King Henry thought that such a building
ought to be nothing less than a royal residence.

Little differences soon arose. Wolsey, indeed,
had not lived long at Hampton Court when
there came an open breach between the King
and himself. The trouble increased, and he
fell from his high place very rapidly. When
in 1526 he presented Hampton Court Palace
to the King something other than generosity
must have prompted the gift.

Henry VIII. at once proceeded to make the
palace more magnificent still. He pulled down
the Cardinal's banqueting hall and erected a
more sumptuous one in its place; and this we
can see to-day. Built in the style known to
architects as Tudor, it is one of the finest halls

307

FATHER THAMES

in the whole of our land. Many huge beams of
oak, beautifully fitted, carved, and ornamented,
support a magnificent panelled and decorated
roof, while glorious stained - glass windows
(copies of the original ones fitted under
Henry VIII.'s directions) fill the place with
subdued light. The Great Gatehouse also be-
longs to Henry's additions, and, with its octa-
gonal towers and great pointed arch, has a
very royal and imposing appearance.

Though no sovereign has dwelt in the palace
for a century or more, it was for nearly two
hundred years a favourite residence of our
Kings and Queens, and many famous events have
taken place within its walls. Queen Mary and
Queen Elizabeth were both very partial to the
palace and its delightful gardens, and they
spent much time there. Indeed, it is said that
the latter was dining at Hampton when the
glorious news of Drake's defeat of the Spanish
Armada was carried to her. James I. resided
at the palace after his succession to the throne,
and there, in addition to selling quite openly
any number of knighthoods and peerages in

308

HAMPTON COURT

order that he might add to his scanty means,
he held the famous conference which decided
that a uniform and authorized translation of
the Bible should be made. In the great hall
countless plays and masques were performed,
and probably the mighty Shakespeare himself
visited the place. King Charles I. spent many
days at the Court, some of them as a prisoner of
the Parliamentary soldiers ; and here too Cromwell
made a home until shortly before the time of his
death. After the Restoration Charles II. and his
Court settled at the palace, and in the surround-
ing parks indulged their fondness for the chase.
Immediately Mary and her husband, William
of Orange, came to the throne they commenced
the alterations which have largely given us the
palace of to-day. The old State apartments
were pulled down and, under the direction of
Sir Christopher Wren, larger and more magni-
ficent ones were erected, something on the lines
of the famous French royal palace at Versailles
At the same time William ordered the grounds
to be laid out in the style of the famous Dutch
gardens. The next three sovereigns, Anne, and

309

FATHER THAMES

the first and second Georges, all lived at the
Court; but from that time onwards it ceased to
be a royal residence. George III. would not go
near the place. The story is told that on one
occasion at Hampton Court his grandfather
boxed his ears soundly, and he vowed never
again to live on the scene of such an indignity.
At any rate, he divided up its thousand rooms
into private suites of apartments, which were
given as residences to persons of high social
position whose incomes were not large enough
to keep them. And to this day a very con-
siderable portion of the palace is shut off from
public view for the same purpose.

However, the parts which we can visit are
extremely interesting. Entering at the main
gate by Molesey Bridge, we cross the outer
Green Court and come to the Moat. In Wolsey's
time this was crossed by a drawbridge of the
sort in use when palaces were fortresses as well
as dwelling-places. We now pass into the build-
ings over a fine old battlement ed Tudor bridge.

This was built by Henry VIII. in honour of
Anne Boleyn ; but for centuries it lay buried and

310

HAMPTON COURT

forgotten. Then one day, just before the War,
workmen came upon it quite accidentally as they
were cleaning out the old Moat.

Once through the gateway we come straight
into the first of the old-world courtyards — the
Base Court — and we feel almost as if we had
stepped back several hundred years into a by-
gone age. The deep red brickwork of the
battlements and the walls, the quaint chimneys,
doorways, windows, and turrets, all belong to
the distant past ; they make on us an impression
which not even the splendour of Wren's addi-
tions can remove. Passing through another
gateway — Anne Boleyn's — we come into the
Clock Court, so called because of the curious old
timepiece above the archway. This clock was
specially constructed for Henry VIII., and for
centuries it has gone on telling the minute of the
hour, the hour of the day, the day of the month,
and the month of the year.

The Great Hall, which we may approach by a
stairway leading up from Anne Boleyn's Gate-
way is, as we have already said, a magnificent
apartment. The glory of its elaborate roof can

3ii

FATHER THAMES

never be forgotten. Hanging on its walls are
some very famous tapestries which have been at
Hampton Court since the days of Henry VIII.
Among these are " tenne pieces of new arras of
the Historie of Abraham/' made in Brussels —
some of the richest and most beautiful examples
of the art of weaving ever produced. From the
Great Hall we pass into what is known as the
Watching Chamber or the Great Guard Room
— the apartment in which the guards assembled
when the monarch was at dinner, and through
which passed all who desired audience of their
sovereign. On its walls are wonderful old
Flemish tapestries which once belonged to
Wolsey himself. From the Watching Chamber
we pass to another chamber through which the
dishes were taken to the tables which stood on
the dais at the end of the Hall.

Returning once more to the ground floor we
go through a hall and find ourselves in Fountain
Court. Here we enter another world entirely.
Behind us are the quaint, old-fashioned court-
yards, and the beautiful, restful Tudor buildings.
The sudden change to Wren's architecture has

312

HAMPTON COURT

an effect almost startling. Yet when once we
have forgotten the older buildings and become
used to the very different style we see that
Wren's work has a beauty of its own. The
newer buildings are very extensive, and the
State apartments are filled with pictures and
furniture of great interest. Entrance is obtained
by what is called the King's Great Staircase.
The first room, entered by a fine doorway, is the
Guard Room, a fine, lofty chamber with the
upper part of its wall decorated with thousands
of old weapons — guns, bayonets, pistols, swords,
etc. From thence we pass to the round of the
magnificent royal apartments — King's rooms,
Queen's rooms, and so on, some thirty or more
of them — all filled with priceless treasures —
beautiful and rare paintings, delightful carvings
from the master hand of Grinling Gibbons, so
delicate and natural that it is difficult to believe
they are made of wood, furniture of great
historical interest and beauty. Here are the
famous pictures — the ' Triumph of Julius
Caesar," nine large canvases showing the Roman
emperor returning in triumph from one of his

3*3

FATHER THAMES

many wars. These were painted by Mantegna,
the celebrated Italian artist, and originally
formed part of the great collection brought
together at Hampton Court by Charles I. They
are a priceless possession. Here, too, are the
famous " Hampton Court Beauties " and
"Windsor Beauties," the first painted by Sir
Godfrey Kneller, the second by Sir Peter Lely,
each portraying a number of famous beauties
of the Court. Walking leisurely round these
apartments we can obtain an excellent idea of the
elaborate style of furnishing which was fashion-
able two or three centuries ago.

Yet, despite all these most valuable relics of
the past, which many people come half across
the world to view, for some folk the supreme
attraction of Hampton Court will always be the
gardens. Very beautiful they are too — the
result of centuries of loving care by those, Kings
and commoners, who had time and inclination
to think of garden making. Perhaps to William
of Orange must be given greatest credit in the
matter, for it was he who ordered the setting-
out of the long, shady avenues and alleys, and

314

HAMPTON COURT

the velvety lawns and orderly paths. But we
must not forget our debt of gratitude to Henry
for the wonderful little sunken garden on the
south side of the palace, perhaps one of the
finest little old English gardens still in exist-
ence; and to Charles I. for the Canal, over a
mile long, with its shady walk, and its birds and
fishes, and its air of dreamy contentment.

Tens of thousands visit these grounds in the
summer months, and the old grape-vine is
always one of the chief attractions. Planted as
long ago as 1768, it still flourishes and bears an
abundant crop each year, sometimes as many as
2,500 bunches, all of fine quality. Its main
stem is now over four feet in circumference, and
its longest branch about one hundred and twenty
feet in length. On the east front, stretching in one
unbroken line across the Home Park for three-
quarters of a mile towards Kingston, is the Long
Water, an ornamental lake made by Charles II.
North of the buildings is another garden, known
as the Wilderness, and here we may find the cele-
brated Maze, constructed in the time of William
and Mary. This consists of a great number of

315

FATHER THAMES

winding and zig-zag paths, hedged on each side
with yew and other shrubs ; and the puzzle is to
find the way into the little open space in the
centre. On almost any day in the summer can
be heard the merry laughter of visitors who have
lost their way in the labyrinth of paths.

Still farther north lies Bushey Park, with its
famous Chestnut Avenue, stretching over a mile
in the direction of Teddington. Here are more
than a thousand acres of the finest English
parkland; and this, together with the large
riverside stretch known as the Home Park,
formed the royal demesne in which the monarchs
and their followers hunted the deer.

As was said at the beginning of the chapter,
only with reluctance do we leave Hampton
Court, partly because of its very great beauty,
partly because of its enthralling historical asso-
ciations. As we turn our backs on the great
Chancellor's memorial, we think perhaps a trifle
sadly of all that the place must have meant to
Wolsey, and there come to mind those resound-
ing words which Shakespeare put into his mouth
— "Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness."

316

CHAPTER NINE
Kingston

Already we have seen that in many cases, if
not in most, the River has founded the towns
on its banks. These have sprung up originally
to guard either an important crossing or the
junction of a tributary with the main stream
or a" gate " where the River has found a way
through the hills ; and then, outliving the period
of their military usefulness, they have developed
later into centres of some commercial import-
ance. Thus it has been with Kingston-upon-
Thames, a place of ancient fame, for, according to
the geology of the district, there must have been
at this spot one of the lowest fords of the River.
That there was on Kingston Hill a Roman
station guarding that ford there can be very
little doubt; and there are evidences that a
considerable Roman town was situated here,
for the Roman remains brought to light have
been fairly abundant.

317

FATHER THAMES

Workmen digging or ploughing on the hill-
side up towards Coombe Warren have, at
various times in the past, discovered the founda-
tions of Roman villas, with gold, silver, and
bronze coins of the fourth century, and numerous
household goods, and in one place a cemetery
full of funeral urns.

But it was not till Saxon times that Kingston
came to the heyday of its existence. Then it
was a place of the greatest possible importance,
for here England was united into one country
under one King. Prior to the union England
was divided off into a number of states, which
found amusement in fighting each other when
they were not fighting the ancient Britons in
their western fastnesses. These states were
Northumbria, in the north; Mercia in the Mid-
lands ; Wessex in the south-west ; and, in addition,
the smaller areas of East Anglia, Essex, and
Kent. When any one chieftain or king was
sufficiently strong to defeat the others, and
make them do his will, he became for the time
being the " bretwalda," or overlord; but it was
a very precarious honour. The kings in turn

3i8

KINGSTON

won the distinction, but the greater ones
emerged from the struggle, and in the end
Egbert, king of Wessex, by subduing the
Mercians, became so powerful that all the other
kings submitted to him. Thus Egbert became
the first king or overlord of all the English
(827), and picked on Kingston as the place for
his great council or witenagemot.

Then followed the terrible years of the Danish
invasions, and England was once more split up
into sections; but the trouble passed, and
Edward the Elder, elected and crowned king
of Wessex at Kingston, eventually became the
real King of England, the first to be addressed
in those terms by the Pope of Rome.

Thence onward Kingston was the recognized
place of coronation for the English Kings, till
Edward the Confessor allotted that distinction
to his new Abbey at Westminster. In addition,
it was one of the royal residences and the home
of the Bishops of Winchester, whose palace was
situated where now a narrow street, called
Bishop's Hall, runs down from Thames Street
to the River. So that Kingston's position as

3i9

FATHER THAMES

one of the chief towns of Wessex was acknow-
ledged.

The stone on which the Saxon Kings were
crowned stands now quite close to the market-
place, jealously guarded by proper railings, as
such a treasure should be. Originally it was
housed in a little chapel, called the Chapel of
St. Mary, close to the Parish Church, and with
it were preserved effigies of the sovereigns
crowned; but unfortunately in the year 1730
the chapel collapsed, killing the foolish sexton
who had been digging too close to the founda-
tions. Then for years the stone was left out
in the market-place, unhonoured and almost
unrecognized, till in the year 1850 it was
rescued and mounted in its present position.
According to the inscription round the base, the
English Kings crowned at Kingston included
Edward the Elder (902), Athelstan (924),
Edmund I. (940), Edred (946), Edwy the Fair
(955), Edward the Martyr (975), and Ethelred II.

(979)-

That most wretched of monarchs, King John,

gave the town its first charter, and for a time

320

KINGSTON

at least resided here. In the High Street there
is now shown a quaint old building to which the
title of " King John's Dairy " has been given,
and this possibly marks the situation of the
King's dwelling-place.

There was a castle here from quite early days,
for we read that in 1263, when Henry III. was
fighting against his barons, Kingston Castle
fell into the hands of de Montfort's colleagues,
who captured and held the young Prince
Edward ; and that Henry returned in the follow-
ing year and won the castle back again. At the
spot where Eden Street joins the London Road
were found the remains of walls of great thick-
ness, and these, which are still to be seen in the
cellars of houses there, are commonly supposed
to be the foundations of a castle held by the
Earls of Warwick at the time of the Wars of the
Roses, and possibly of an even earlier structure.

Right down through history Kingston, prob-
ably by reason of its important river crossing,
has had its peaceful life disturbed at intervals
by the various national struggles. Armies have
descended on it suddenly, stayed the night,

321 x

FATHER THAMES

taken their fill, and gone on their way; a few
have come and stayed. Monarchs have broken
their journeys at this convenient spot, or have
dined here in state to show their favour. For
Kingston, as the King's "tun" or town should,
has always been a distinctly Royalist town,

' '

Kingston.

has invariably declared for the sovereign —
right or wrong.

Thus in 1554, when young Sir Thomas Wyatt
raised his army of ten thousand to attack
London, and found the Bridge too strong to
force, he made his way westwards to the
convenient crossing at Kingston; but the in-

^22

KINGSTON

habitants broke down their bridge to delay
his progress, and so enabled Mary to get together
a force; for which act of devotion the citizens
were rewarded with a free charter by Queen
Mary.

Similarly, in the Civil War the town stood
firmly by Charles, despite the fact that the town
was occupied by cavaliers and roundheads in
turn. Thus in October, 1642, the Earl of
Essex settled down with several thousand men;
while in November Sir Richard Onslow came
to defend the crossing. But the inhabitants
showed themselves extremely "malignant";
though when, just after, the King came to the
town with his army he was greeted with every
sign of joyous welcome.

Also at Kingston occurred one of the numerous
risings which happened during the year 1648.
All over the land the Royalists gathered men
and raised the King's standard, hoping that
Parliament would not be able to cope with so
many simultaneous insurrections. In July the
Earl of Holland, High Steward of Kingston,
the Duke of Buckingham, and his brother

323

FATHER THAMES

Lord Francis Villiers, got together a force of
several hundred horsemen, but they were heavily
defeated by a force of Parliamentarians, and
Lord Villiers was killed.

^5eddin£fon

Weir

Nowadays, despite the fact that the town has
held its own through a thousand years, neither
losing in fame a great deal nor gaining, Kingston

324

KINGSTON

does not give one any impression of age. True,
it has some ancient dwellings here and there,
but for the most part they are hidden away
behind unsightly commercial frontages.

Between Kingston and Richmond the River
sweeps round in an inverted S-bend, passing
on the way Teddington and Twickenham,
formerly two very pretty riverside villages.
The former possess the lowest pound-lock on the
River (with the exception of that of the half- tide
lock at Richmond), and also a considerable weir.
It is the point at which the tide reaches its limit,
and thereby gets its name Teddington, or Tide-
ending-town.

325

CHAPTER TEN

Richmond

Richmond is an old place with a new name, for
though its history goes back to Saxon times, it
did not get its present name till the reign of
Henry VII., when " Harry of Richmond " re-
christened it in allusion to the title which he
received from the Yorkshire town. Prior to
that it had always been called Sheen, and the
name still survives in an outlying part of the
town.

Sheen Manor House had been right from
Saxon days a hunting lodge and an occasional
dwelling for the Sovereigns, but Edward III.
built a substantial palace, and, absolutely
deserted by all his friends, died in it in the year
1377. He was succeeded by his young grandson,
the Black Prince's child Richard, who spent
most of his childhood with his mother Joan
at Kingston Castle, just a mile or two higher
upstream. Richard's wife, Queen Anne of

326

RICHMOND

Bohemia, died in Sheen Palace in the year
1394, and Richard was so upset that he had the
palace pulled down, and never visited Sheen
again.

^miSM MtiMm

Tychmond H"ill
AVeo^dows

This, however, by no means ended the life
of Sheen as a royal residence, for Henry V.
built a new house, and when, in 1498, this was
burned down, Henry VII. built a new palace
on a much grander scale, and at the same time
gave it the name which it still bears. With the

327

FATHER THAMES

Tudor kings and queens Richmond was a very-
great favourite. " Bluff King Hal " loved to
hunt in its woodland, and here, in 1603, " good
Queen Bess " died, after forty-five years of a
troublous but prosperous and progressive reign.
Charles I. spent much of his time here, and he it
was who added Richmond Park to the royal
domain in the year 1637.

After the Civil War the palace was set aside
for the use of the widowed Queen Henrietta
Maria, but by that time it had got into a very
dilapidated condition; and little or nothing was
done to improve it. So that before long this
once stately palace fell to pieces and was
removed piecemeal. Now all that remains of
it is a gateway by Richmond Green.

Richmond to-day is merely a suburb of
London, one of the pleasure grounds of the
city's countless workers, who come hither on
Saturdays and Sundays either to find exercise
and enjoyment on the River, or to breathe the
pure air of the park. This New Park, so called
to distinguish it from the Old Deer Park, which
lies at the other end of the town, is a very fine

328

RICHMOND

place indeed. Surrounded by a wall about
eleven miles long, it covers 2,250 acres of splendid
park and woodland, with glorious views in all
directions. In it are to be found numerous deer
which spend their young days here, and later
are transferred to Windsor Park. The Old
Deer Park, of which about a hundred acres are
open to the public for football, golf, tennis, and
other pastimes, lies by the riverside between
the town and Kew Gardens.

The view of the River Thames from the
Terrace on Richmond Hill is world-famous.
Countless artists have painted it, and many
writers have described it; and probably it has
deserved all the good things said about it, for
even now, spoiled as it is by odd factory chimneys
and unsightly buildings dotted about, it still
remains one of the most delightful vistas of the
silvery, winding River. Those of you who have
read Scott's " Heart of Midlothian " will prob-
ably remember the passage (chapter xxxvi.)
which describes it: " The equipage stopped on
a commanding eminence, where the beauty of
English landscape was displayed in its utmost

329

FATHER THAMES

luxuriance. Here the Duke alighted and
desired Jeanie to follow him. They paused for
a moment on the brow of a hill, to gaze on the
unrivalled landscape which it presented. A

huge sea of verdure, with crossing and inter-
secting promontories of massive and tufted
groves, was tenanted by numberless flocks and
herds, which seemed to wander unrestrained
and unbounded through the rich pastures.
The Thames, here turreted with villas and there

330

RICHMOND

garlanded with forests, moved on slowly and
placidly, like the mighty monarch of the scene,
to whom all its other beauties were but acces-
sories, and bore on its bosom a hundred barks
and skiffs, whose white sails and gaily fluttering
pennons gave life to the whole. The Duke was,
of course, familiar with this scene; but to a
man of taste it must be always new."

Nor have the poets been behindhand with
their appreciation, as the following extract
from James Thomson's " Seasons " shows:

" Heavens ! what a goodly prospect spreads around,
Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires,
And glittering towers, and gilded streams, till all
The stretching landscape into smoke decays."

331

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Richmond to Westminster

Just below Richmond, on the borders of the
Middlesex village of Isleworth, there is a foot-
passenger toll-bridge, with what is known as a
half -tide lock. The arches of this bridge are
open to river traffic during the first half of the
ebb-tide and the second half of the flow, but the
River is dammed for the remainder of the day
in order that sufficient water may be kept in
the stretch immediately above. This, for the
present, is the last obstruction on the journey
seawards.

Isleworth, with its riverside church, its ancient
inn, "The London Apprentice," and its great
flour-mill, is a typical riverside village which
has lived on out of the past. Between it and
Brentford lies the magnificent seat of the Dukes
of Northumberland — Sion House — a fine dwell-
ing situated in a delightful expanse of parkland
facing Kew Gardens on the Surrey shore.

332

RICHMOND TO WESTMINSTER

Of Kew Gardens, which stretch beside the
River from the Old Deer Park almost to Kew
Bridge, it is difficult for one who loves nature to
speak in moderate terms, for it is one of the
most delightful places in the whole of our land.
At every season of the year, almost every day,
there is some fresh enchantment, some glory of
tree or flower unfolding itself, so that one can
go there year after year, week in and week
out, without exhausting its treasure-house of
wonders, even though there is only a matter
of 350 acres to explore.

The Royal Botanical Gardens, as their proper
name is, were first laid out by George III. in
the year 1760, and were presented to the nation
by Queen Victoria in the year 1840. Since
then the authorities have planned and worked
assiduously and wisely to bring together a
botanical collection of such scope and admir-
able arrangement that it is practically without
rival in the world. Here may be seen, flourish-
ing in various huge glasshouses, the most
beautiful of tropical and semi-tropical plants —
palms, ferns, cacti, orchids, giant lilies, etc.;

333

FATHER THAMES

wmmm

Jm^^*~^\xr^tf£'

Kew Gardens.

334

RICHMOND TO WESTMINSTER

while in the magnificently laid out grounds are
to be found flowers, trees, and shrubs of all kinds
growing in a delightful profusion. There is not
a dull spot anywhere; while the rhododendron
dell, the azalea garden, the rock garden, and
the rose walks are indescribably beautiful. Nor
is beauty the only consideration, for the care-
fully planned gardens, with their splendid
museum, are of untold value to the gardener
and the botanist.

Nor must we forget that Kew had its palace.
Frederick, Prince of Wales, father of George III.
and great patron of Surrey cricket, resided at
Kew House, as did his son after him. The son
pulled down the mansion in 1803 and erected
another in its place; and, not to be outdone,
George IV. in turn demolished this. The
smaller dwelling-house — dignified now by the
title of palace — a homely red-brick building,
known in Queen Anne's time as the " Dutch
House," was built in the reign of James I. In it
died Queen Charlotte.

If we speak with unstinting praise of Kew,
what shall we say of Brentford, opposite it on

335

FATHER THAMES

the Middlesex side of the stream ? Surely no
county in England has a more untidy and
squalid little county town. Its long main street
is narrow to the point of danger, so that it has
been necessary to construct at great cost a new
arterial road which will avoid Brentford alto-
gether; while many of its byways can be
dignified by no better word than slums. Yet
Brentford in the past was a place of some note
in Middlesex, and had its share of history.
Indeed, in recent times it has laid claim to
be the " ford " where Julius Caesar crossed on
his way to Verulam, a claim which for years
was held undisputedly by Cowey Stakes, near
Walton.

Now the Great Western Railway Company's
extensive docks, where numerous barges dis-
charge and receive their cargoes, and the
incidental sidings and warehouses, the gas-works,
the various factories and commercial buildings,
make riverside Brentford a thing of positive
ugliness.

On the bank above the ferry, close to the spot
where the little Brent River joins the main

336

RICHMOND TO WESTMINSTER

stream, the inhabitants, proud of their share in
the nation's struggles, have erected a granite
pillar with the following brief recital of the
town's claims to notoriety:

54 B.C. — At this ancient fortified ford the
British tribesmen, under Cassivelaunus, bravely
opposed Julius Caesar on his march to Verula-
mium.

a.d. 780-1. — Near by Offa, King of Mercia,
with his Queen, the bishops, and principal
officers, held a Council of the Church.

a.d. 1016. — Here Edmund Ironside, King of
England, drove Cnut and his defeated Danes
across the Thames.

a.d. 1640. — Close by was fought the Battle of
Brentford between the forces of King Charles I.
and the Parliament.

From Kew Bridge onwards the River loses
steadily in charm if it gains somewhat in import-
ance. The beauty which has clung to it prac-
tically all the way from the Cotswolds now
almost entirely disappears, giving place to a
generally depressing aspect, relieved here and
there with just faint suggestions of the receding
charm

337 Y

FATHER THAMES

A short distance downstream is Mortlake,
once a pretty little riverside village, now almost
a suburb of London, and quite uninteresting
save that it marks the finish of the University
Boatrace. This, as all folk in the Thames

Valley (and many out of it) are aware, is rowed
each year upstream from Putney to Mortlake,
usually on the flood-tide.

Barnes, on the Surrey shore, is a very ancient
place. The Manor of Barn Elmes was presented
by Athelstan (925-940) to the canons of St.

338

RICHMOND TO WESTMINSTER

Paul's, and by them it has been held ever since.
The name possibly came from the great barn
or spicarium, which the canons had on the spot.
The place is now the home of the Ranelagh Club
— a famous club for outdoor pursuits, notably
polo, golf, and tennis.

Fulham Palace, on the Middlesex bank, not
far from Putney Bridge, is the " country resi-
dence " of the Bishops of London. For nine
centuries the Bishops have held the manor of
Fulham, and during most of the time have had
their domicile in the village. In these days,
when Fulham is one of the utterly dreary
districts of London, with acres and acres of
dull, commonplace streets, it is hard indeed to
think of it as a fresh riverside village with fine
old mansions and a wide expanse of market-
gardens and a moat-surrounded palace hidden
among the tall trees.

The River now begins to run through London
proper, and from its banks rise wharves, ware-
houses, factories, and numerous other indications
of its manifold commercial activities. Thus it
continues on past Wandsworth, where the tiny

339

FATHER THAMES

river Wandle joins forces and where there is
talk of erecting another half-tide lock, past

■■fr m %k

to I k*m fi ! $s c q - '-'|^l\\|f

tifz, James &<^few<y ^!::A^^

Fulham, Chelsea, Battersea, Pimlico, Vauxhall,
and Lambeth, on to Westminster.

340

RICHMOND TO WESTMINSTER

At Chelsea and Vauxhall were situated those
famous pleasure-gardens — the Ranelagh and
Cremorne Gardens at the former, and the Spring
Gardens at the latter — which during the seven-
teenth and eighteenth centuries provided London

Ranelagh.

with so much in the way of entertainment.
Vauxhall Gardens were opened to the public
some time after the Restoration, and at once
became popular, so that folk of all sorts, rich
and poor alike, came to pass a pleasant evening.

34i

FATHER THAMES

An account written in 1751 speaks of the
gardens as " laid out in so grand a taste that
they are frequented in the three summer months
by most of the nobility and gentry then in or
near London." The following passage from
Smollett's " Humphrey Clinker " aptly describes
the dazzling scene : "A spacious garden, part
laid out in delightful walks, bounded with high
hedges and trees, and paved with gravel; part
exhibiting a wonderful assemblage of the most
picturesque and striking objects, pavilions,
lodges, graves, grottos, lawns, temples, and cas-
cades; porticoes, colonnades, rotundas; adorned
with pillars, statues, and paintings; the whole
illuminated with an infinite number of lamps,
disposed in different figures of suns, stars, and
constellations ; the place crowded with the gayest
company, ranging through those blissful shades,
and supping in different lodges on cold collations,
enlivened with mirth, freedom, and good humour,
and animated by an excellent band of music."

In the early days most of the folk came by
water, and the river was gay with boatloads
of revellers Barges and boats waited each

342

RICHMOND TO WESTMINSTER

evening at Westminster and Whitehall Stairs
in readiness for passengers; and similarly at
various places along the city front craft plied
for hire to convey the citizens, their wives and
daughters, and even their apprentices.

Ranelagh was not quite so ancient, and it
encouraged a slightly better class of visitor:
otherwise it was the counterpart of Vauxhall,
as was Cremorne. It was famous, among other
things, for its regatta. In 1775 this was a
tremendous water-carnival. The River from
London Bridge westwards was covered with
boats of all sorts, and stands were erected on the
banks for the convenience of spectators.

Ranelagh was demolished in 1805, but Vaux-
hall persisted right on till 1859, when it too came
under the auctioneer's hammer. Where Cre-
morne once stood is now the huge power-station
so prominent in this stretch of the river; and the
famous coffee-house kept by "Don Saltero" in
the early eighteenth century was in Cheyne Walk.

Chelsea in its day has achieved fame in quite
a variety of ways. Apart from its pleasure
gardens it has come to be well-known for its

343

FATHER THAMES

beautiful old physic-garden; its hospital for
aged soldiers, part of the gardens of which were
included in Ranelagh ; its bun-house ; its pottery ;
and last, but by no means least, for its associa-
tion with literary celebrities. Here have lived,
and worked, and, in some cases, died, writers
of such different types as Sir Thomas More,
whose headless body was buried in the church,
John Locke, Addison, Swift, Smollett, Carlyle —
the "sage of Chelsea" — Leigh Hunt, Rossetti,
Swinburne, and Kingsley. Artists, too, have
congregated in these quiet streets, and the
names of Turner and Whistler will never be
forgotten.

At Lambeth may still be seen the famous
palace of the Archbishops of Canterbury,
a beautiful building of red-brick and stone,
standing in an old-world garden. Some parts
of it are very old: one, the Lollards' Tower, is
an exceedingly fine relic of medieval building.
Close at hand stands the huge pile of buildings
which house the pottery works of Messrs.
Doulton. For some reason or other Lambeth
has long been associated with this industry.

344

RICHMOND TO WESTMINSTER

The Power-Station, Chelsea.

345

FATHER THAMES

As early as 1670 one Edward Warner sold
potters' clay here, and exported it in huge

The Lollards' Tower, Lambeth Palace.

quantities to Holland and other countries, and
various potters, some Dutch, settled in the

346

RICHMOND TO WESTMINSTER

district. All this stretch of the River seems to
have been famous for its china-works in the past,
for there were celebrated potteries at Fulham,
Chelsea, and Battersea as well. Of these
Battersea has passed away, and its productions
are eagerly sought after by collectors, but
Fulham and Lambeth remain, while Chelsea,
after a long interval, is reviving this ancient
craft.

Thus we have traversed in fancy the whole
of this wonderful River — so fascinating to both
young and old, to both studious and pleasure-
seeking. The more we learn of it the more we
are enthralled by its story, by the immense
share it has had in the shaping of England's
destinies.

We started with a consideration of what those
wonderful people the geologists could tell us of
the River in dim, prehistoric days ; and we feel
inclined to turn once more to them in conclusion.
For they tell us now that the Thames is growing
less; that, just as in times past it captured the
waters of other streams and reduced them to
trickling nothings, so in turn it is succumbing

347

FATHER THAMES

day by day to the depredations of the River
Ouse, which is slowly cutting off its head.
Some day, perhaps, the Thames will be just a
tiny rivulet, and the Port of London will be no
more; but I think the tides will ebb and flow
under London Bridge many times before it
comes to pass.

348

INDEX

Abingdon, 263-5
Alfred, King, 141, 249
All Hallows, Barking, 75
Ancient Britons, 120-6
Arnold, Matthew, 261
Arthur, King, 287

Barking, 71-6

Abbey, 72-5

Sewage Works, 75-6
Barnes, 338-9
Battersea, 340, 347
Baynards Castle, 160
Becket, Thomas, 145, 151, 274
Benfleet, 39

Besant, Sir Walter, 162-3, 184
Big Ben, 225
Billingsgate, 101-2
Black Death, 161
Blackfriars, 195-7
Blackwall, 112-3

Tunnel, 113
Boatrace, Universities, 259, 338
Boleyn, Anne, 175-7, 310"11
Brentford, 336
Bridges, 205, 230, 232, 242
Buckingham Palace, 208
Bushey Park, 316

Canning Town, 114
Canute, 141-2
Canvey Island, 38-9
Cement, 49, 55-6
Chatham, 46-7
Chaucer, Geoffrey, 162, 294
Chelsea, 341, 343"4. 347
Cherwell, 257-8
Chilterns, 10, 268-70
Cholsey, 284
Churn, River, 240
Cleopatra's Needle, 228
Cliveden Woods, 282-3
Coal, 1 14-5, 164-5
Coldharbour Palace, 160

Colne, River, 240
Cookham, 279
Cooling Castle, 52-3
County Hall, 232-3
Cremorne Gardens, 343
Cricklade, 240
Crosby Hall, 159
Culham, 284
Cumnor, 243
Customs Officers, 11 5-6

Dagenham Breach, 70

Dagenham Dock, 71
Marshes, 68-71

Danes, 18, 33, 140-1

Defoe, Daniel, 36, 183-4

Dene-holes at Grays, 67-8

De Ruyter, 41

Dickens, Charles, 51, 52

Dockland, 24-6

Docks: Blackwall, 112-3
East India, 104
Execution, 102, no
London, no-i
Millwall, 112
Regent's Canal, in
Royal Albert, 1 1 3-4
St. Katherine's, 102, 105
St. Saviour's, 102, 108
Surrey Commercial, 112
Victoria, 113
West India, 112

" Don Saltero," 343

Dorchester, 265-6

Duke of Buckingham, 205

Dumouriez, 53

Durham Palace, 207

Dutch in the Medway, 42-5

Eastchurch, 35
East Ham, 1 13-4
East India Docks, 104
Edward the Confessor, 2 1 1
Eleanor of Provence, 153, 223

349

FATHER THAMES

Embankment, The, 227-8
Estuary, The, 16-19, 31-39

defence of, 52
Eton College, 298-304
Evelyn, John, 41, 61-2, 186-90
Evenlode, River, 243
Execution Dock, 110-1

Fire of London, the Great, 159
FitzStephen, 145-7
Flamsteed, 99
Fleet River, 193-5

Street, 195
Fobbing, 60
Fort Grain, 35
Franklin, Sir John, 66
Frindsbury, 49
Fulham, 339

Godstow, 243

Goring Gap, 267-8

Gravesend, 52-6

proposed dam, 62-3

Grays, 67

Great Marlow, 281-2

Greenhithe, 21, 66

Greenwich, 87-100
Hospital, 92-7
Ministerial dinners at, 91
Observatory, 98-100
Royal births at, 89

Grey, Lady Jane, 175

Hakluyt, 90-1

Halley, 100

Hampton Court, 305-16

Harold, King, 143, 288

Henley, 280-1

Holiday Thames, 279-284

Houses of Parliament, 220-6

Howard, Katherine, 175-7

" Humphrey Clinker," 342

Humphrey, Duke, 88

Hungerford House, 206

Iffiey, 262
Isis, 239, 259
Isle of Dogs, 112
Grain, 35
Isleworth, 332

Jack Straw, 60
John Ball, 60
Jones, Inigo, 92

Kelmscott, 241
Kennet, River, 277
Kew Gardens, 333-5

Palace, 335
Kingston, 317-25
Knights of the Garter, 296-7
Knights Templar, 199-202

Lambeth, 344-7
Lechlade, 239
Legal quays, 102
Limehouse, 11 1-2

Basin, 1 1 1

Reach, Medway, 49
Llyndin Hill, 125, 130
London, a city of palaces, 157

and the Danes, 140-2

Fire of, 181-192

fires in, 25, 151, 181

fogs, 23

foundation of, 123-9

Friars in, 195-8

Hospitals, 233

in Norman days, 143-6

in Middle Ages, 157-65

in Roman days, 130-6

in Saxon days, 137-40

Plague in, 183-4

reasons for position of,
126-9

remains of Roman Wall,
133-6

Tower of, 166-80
London Bridge, 147-156

a great procession on,

155
a tournament on, 1 54
its dangers, 151
its relation to the
City, 128-9
L.C.C. County Hall, 232
London Dock, 110-1
London Stone, Yantlet Creek,

35
Lower Reaches, 19-23

350

INDEX

Macfarlane, Charles, 42
Maidenhead, 46
Marshes on banks, 16, 64-76
Mandeville, Geoffrey de, 171-2
Matilda, Empress, 170-2
Maud of Boulogne, 105, 171
Medway, River, 40-51
Merton, Walter de, 2 5 1
Millwall Dock, 112
Minster-in-Sheppey, 32
Monument, The, 181-2
Morris, William, 241-2
Mortlake, 338

New Bridge, 242
Nore Lightship, 15, 118
Northfleet, 65-6
Northumberland House, 207

Old Windsor, 287
Oxford, 246-262

Bodleian Library, 255

Castle, 256

Colleges, 251-5

founding of the University,
249-51

its origin, 247-8

Tom Tower, 254

Pangbourne, 279

Peasants' Revolt, 60

Pepys, Samuel, 34, jy, 186

Peter of Colechurch, 148

Pett, Peter, 47

Pilots, 55

Placentia, Palace of, 89

Plague, the Great, 183-4

Pool, The, 26-8

Port Meadow, 243

Port of London, 23-6, 101-19

Authority, 15,
1 18-19
Port Victoria, 35
Princes in Tower, 171
Purfleet, 68
Putney, 338-9

Queen borough, 35
Queenhithe, 101

Radley, 284
Ranelagh Gardens, 343
Reading, 271-8

Abbey, 272-6

and the Civil War, 275

modern, 277-8
Regent's Canal Dock, 1 1 1
Richmond, 326-31
River police, 116-8
Rochester, 49-51
Roding, River, 71-2
Roman remains in London,

132-5
Rosherville Gardens, 65
Rotherhithe, 1 1 3
Royal Albert Dock, 11 3-4

Victoria Dock, 11 3-4

Savoy Palace, 204-5

Saxon Kings crowned at King-
ston, 319-20

" Scholar Gypsy," 261-2

Scotland Yard, 207

Shad well, 105

Sheen, 327

Sheerness, 34

Sheppey, 31-3

Shoeburyness, 37-8

Shooter's Hill, 77-9

Silvertown, 1 14

Sion House, 332

Somerset House, 203

Sonning, 279-80

Southend, 36-7

St. James's Park, 207

St. Katherine's Dock, 102,
105

St. Paul's Cathedral, 124, 188,
191, 211

St. Saviour's Dock, 102, 108

St. Thomas's Hospital, 233

Staple Inn, 159

Stephen, King, 170, 256, 267

Stow, 161, 179

Strand, The, 193

Streatley, 268

" Stripling Thames," 237-45

Stroud, 49

351

FATHER THAMES

Surrey Commercial Dock, 1 1 2
Swale, The, 41

Tea, 106
Teddington, 325
Temple Bar, 232
Church, 201
Gardens, 202
Temple, The, 199-203
Thame, River, 265
Thames Haven, 68
Thames Head, 237
Thames River, early tributaries
of, 239
geology of, 267-70
locks on, 243-5
material brought down

by, 64-5
origin of, 2-5
reasons for importance,

11-14
terraces of bed, 283-4
the basin of, 7-10
the sources, 237-9
tunnels under, 113
Thorney Island, 130, 21 1-2
Tilbury, 57-63

Docks, 71, 104
Fort, 57

Elizabeth at, 57-8
Tower Bridge, 231
Tower of London, 166-80
Trewsbury Mead, 237-9
Twickenham, 325

Upnor Castle, 4

Vale of the White Horse, 241
Vauxhall Gardens, 341-3

Wallingford, 144, 266-7
Wandle, River, 340
Wandsworth, 339
Wapping, 108-10

Old Stairs, 108-10

Watling Street, 126, 130, 132,
144

Wat Tyler, 60, 156, 204

Waynflete, William, 299

West Ham, 11 3-4

West India Dock, 104, 112

Westminster, 209-226
the founding of, 210

Westminster Abbey, 212-9

Chapter House, 218
Confessor's Chapel, 2 1 3
founding of, 212
Henry VII. Chapel. 215
Poets' Corner, 215
Remains of Old Abbey,

213
Tomb of Unknown
Warrior, 218
Westminster Hall, 222

Palace, 220
Whitefriars, 197-9
Whitehall Palace, 207-8
Whittington, Dick, 165
Widths of the Thames, 1 5, 26
William and Mary, 92, 309
William the Conqueror, 73, 143,

256, 266, 285, 288
Windrush, River, 242
Windsor, 285-304

growth of Castle, 288-95

origin of, 287

Round Tower, 297

St. George's Chapel, 296
Wolsey, Cardinal, 207, 253, 305
Woolwich, 77-86

Arsenal, 81-6

Dockyard, 80-1
Wren, Sir Christopher, 92, 228,

309, 312
Wykeham, William, 35, 293,
298

Yantlet Creek, 35
York House, 205

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN FOR
WELLS GARDNER, DARTON AND CO., LTD., LONDON, B.C.

THE HISTORIC THAMES

OXFORD

By Mrs. HAMILTON FYFE. Illustrated by L. Russell Con-
way. 3s. 6d. net.

OXFORD

A Portfolio of Twelve Pictures of Oxford from Drawings by
L. RUSSELL CONWAY. 21s. net.

HAMPTON COURT

By Mrs. ADY (Julia Cartwright). 3s. 6d. net.

GREENWICH ROYAL HOSPITAL and the
ROYAL UNITED SERVICE MUSEUM

By EDWARD FRASER, Author of " Bellerophon." 3s. 6d. net.

WESTMINSTER ABBEY AND ST. PAUL'S
CATHEDRAL

By the Rev. JOCELYN PERKINS and Mr. J. S. BUMPUS.
With Illustrations from Original Drawings by J. Russell Conway
and Photographs. 3s. 6d. net.

THE LONDON MUSEUM

By F. J. HARVEY DARTON. Cloth. 3s. 6d. net.

SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON

THE BANKSIDE SHAKESPEARE

lets the children of London, the greatest city in the world, perform
what the greatest inhabitant of London wrote, saw, and did in his own
lifetime in his own way.

THE BANKSIDE SHAKESPEARE

allows children to use what the Government Committee on the teach-
ing of English calls " the best forms of theatrical amusement."
Twelve Volumes ready, is. net each.

WELLS GARDNER, DARTON & CO., LTD.

3 & 4, Paternoster Buildings, EC. 4. And all booksellers.

Ai&p of the

River Thames

froiTrWindsorfl) the Jlore

k. '-

Thames
P/ffon

Gree/7iv/c/} //asp/fa/

Vic ton o

£ rn bank men t~~

Woo/m'ch Arsena/

■:..';..•;• ; Sir ■?:■•. .' ■ %

Internet Archive Audio

Featured

Top

Images

Featured

Top

Software

Featured

Top

Books

Featured

Top

Video

Featured

Top

Mobile Apps

Browser Extensions

Archive-It Subscription

Save Page Now

Full text of "Father Thames"

See other formats