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GOLDWIN    SMITH. 


LONDON: 


ITS  CELEBRATED  CHARACTERS 


AND 


REMARKABLE    PLACES. 


BY 


J.  HENEAGE  JESSE, 


AUTHOR    OP  "  MEMOIRS   OP   KING    GEORGE    THE    THIRD,"    " : 
COURT  OP   ENGLAND  UNDER  THE   STUAKTS,"   E 


IN    THREE    VOLUMES. 
VOL.  II. 


LONDON: 


EMOIRS 
C. 


5 

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>  O 

&  £ 


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EICHARD  BENTLEY,  NEW  BURLINGTON  STREET, 

$nblislur  in  <Drbtn.tr 2  to  Jjgcr 
1871. 

[^IZZ  Rights  Reserved.] 


\> 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  II. 


THE  OLD  PALACE  OF  WHITEHALL. 

PAGE 

By  whom  Originally  built. — The  Residence  of  Cardinal  Wolsey, 
Henry  the  Eighth,  Edward  the  Sixth,  Queen  Elizabeth,  and 
James  the  First. — Banqueting  House. — Whitehall  the  Resi- 
dence of  Charles  the  First,  Cromwell,  James  the  Second,  and 
Queen  Mary 1 

THE  THAMES  AT  LONDON. 

The  Thames  in  Ancient  Times. — Old  Palace  of  Whitehall. — 
Northumberland,  York,  Durham,  Salisbury,  Worcester,  and 
Somerset  Houses. — Temple  Garden. — Alsatia. — Bridewell. — 
Baynard's  Castle.  —  Queenhithe. — Bankside. — Water  Proces- 
sions   GO 

THE  TOWER. 

Description  of  the  Fortress. — Its  Principal  Bulwarks.— Tower 
Chapel.  —  Traitors'  Gate.  —  Kings  who  built,  enlarged,  and 
lived  in  it— Distinguished  Prisoners  whose  Misfortunes  or 
Crimes  have  thrown  a  deep  Interest  over  its  Dungeons  ...  7-i 

TOWER  HILL,  ALLHALLOWS  BARKING,  CRUTCHED 
FRIARS,  EAST  SMITHFIELD,  WAPPING. 

Illustrious  Personages  executed  on  Tower  HilL  —  Melancholy 
Death  of  Otway. — Anecdote  of  Rochester. — Peter  the  Great — 
Church  of  Allhallows  Barking.  —  Seething  Lane.  —  The 
Minories. — Miserable  Death  of  Lord  Cobham. — Goodman's 
Fields  Theatre.— St.  Katherine's  Church.— Ratcliffe  Highway. 
— Murders  of  the  Marrs  and  Williamsons.— Execution  Dock. 
— Judge  Jefferys.—  Stepney  204 


iv  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

BILLINGSGATE,  COLE  HAKBOUR,  STEELYARD, 
THE  VINTRY,  &c. 

Etymology  of  Billingsgate. — Principal  Ports  of  London. — Fish- 
mongers' Company. — Sir  William  Walworth. — Seminary  for 
Pickpockets.— Great  Fire  of  London.— Hvibert's  Confession.— 
Remarkable  Edifices  in  and  near  Thames  Street  222 

QUEENHITHE,  BAYNARD'S  CASTLE,  HOUSES  OF 
THE  NOBILITY,  BLACKFRIARS,  &c. 

Derivation  of  the  name  of  Queenhithe.—  Celebrated  Residents  in 
Baynard's  Castle.—  Mansions  near  Paul's  Wharf. — Monastery 
of  the  Black  Friars. — Repudiation  of  Queen  Catherine. — Queen 
Elizabeth  at  Cobham  House. — The  Fatal  Vespers. — Blackfriars 
Bridge. — Fleet  Ditch.  —  Strongholds  of  Thieves.  —  Palace  of 
Bridewell.— Alsatia. — Execution  of  Lord  Sanquhar  241 

LONDON  BRIDGE. 

Antiquity  of  Old  London  Bridge.— Legend  of  the  Erection  of  the 
First  Bridge.— Canute's  Expedition. — The  First  Stone  Bridge. 
—Its  Appearance.— Traitors'  Heads  affixed  thereon.— Tenants 
and  Accidents  on  it. — Suicides  under  it. — Pageants  across,  and 
Fights  on  it.— Edward  the  Black  Prince. — Wat  Tyler.— Lords 
Welles  and  Lindsay. — Richard  II. — Henry  V. — Sigismund. — 
Henry  VI.— Jack  Cade.— Bastard  of  Falconbridge. — Wolsey. 
— Osborne.— Wyatt.— Charles  II.— Decapitated  Persons  ...  272 

THE  FIRE  OF  LONDON. 

Where  the  Fire  originated.— Charles  II.'s  Noble  Conduct.— 
Pepys's  Account  of  the  Fire.— Evelyn's  "  Diary."— Farryner's 
Account  of  the  Origin  of  the  Fire.— Attributed  to  the  Roman 
Catholics. —The  Monument. — Original  Inscription.— Damage 
caused  by  the  Fire.— Description  of  the  Monument  296- 

FISH  STREET  HILL,  EASTCHEAP,  GRACECHURCH 
STREET,  ST.  OLAVE'S,  HART  STREET. 

"King's  Head  Tavern."  — St.  Magnus  the  Martyr.  —  Pudding 
Lane.— Boar's  Head  Tavern.— Sir  John  Falstaff.— Lombard 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Merchants.  —  Earl  of  Suffolk.  —  Fenchurch  Street.  —  Queen 
Elizabeth. — St.  Olave's  Church. — Sir  John  Mennis. — Monu- 
ment to  Pepys's  Wife. — Dr.  Mills. — Whittington's  Residence. — 
Lady  Fanshawe  315 

ALDGATE,  ST.  BOTOLPH'S  CHURCH,  LEADENHALL 
STREET,  ST.  CATHERINE  CREE,  &c. 

Derivation  of  the  name  Aldgate.  —  Stow  the  Antiquary. —  His 
Labours  ill-requited. — Cruel  Execution  of  the  Bailiff  of  Rom- 
ford. — His  Speech. — Church  of  St.  Botolph. — Monuments  in 
the  Church. — Defoe's  Account  of  the  Burial-pits  in  the  Church- 
yard during  the  Plague.  —  Wliitechapel.  —  Duke's  Place.  — 
Priory  of  the  Holy  Trinity. — Leadenhall  Street. — Church  of 
St.  Catherine  Cree. — Persons  Buried  there. — Consecration  of 
the  Church  by  Archbishop  Laud. — Church  of  St.  Andrew 
Undershaft. — Monuments. — St.  Mary- Axe. — Lime  Street  ...  332 

CORNHILL,  SAINT  MICHAEL'S  CHURCH, 
ROYAL  EXCHANGE,  <fec. 

Cornhill  frequented  by  Old  Clothes  Sellers.— "  Pope's  Head." 
—First  London  Coffee-House. — Tea-Drinking. — St.  Michael's 
Church.— The  Standard  in  Cornhill. — The  Royal  Exchange. 
— The  Pawn.  —  Royal  Exchange  Bazaar.  —  Change  Alley.  — 
Threadneedle  Street.  —  Gordon  Riots.  —  Merchant  Taylors' 
Company. — Southsea  House. — Drapers'  Company. — Plague  in 
Lothbury  350 

OLD  JEWRY,  ST.  LAWRENCE  CHURCH,  MANSION 
HOUSE,  LONDON  STONE,  &c. 

Old  Jewry,  the  Original  Burial  Place  of  the  Jews. — Expulsion 
of  the  Jews. — Dr.  Lambe  and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham. — 
St.  Olave's  Church. — St.  Lawrence,  Jewry. — St.  Thomas  of 
Aeon. — Gilbert  a  Becket. — Mercers'  Company. — The  Poultry. 
—  Mansion  House. — Stocks  Market— Sir  John  Cutler. — Buck- 
lersbury. — Indian  Houses.— St.  Stephen's,  Walbrook.— London 
Stone.— Prior  of  Tortington's  "  Inne  "  369 


-vi  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

BISHOPSGATE  STEEET,  CROSBY  HALL. 

Derivation  of  the  word  Bishopsgate. — Crosby  Place. — Its  Pre- 
sent Condition.— When  built.— Character  of  its  Founder.— 
Its  Tenants :  Richard  the  Third,— Read,— Emperor  Maximi- 
lian,— Rest, — Sir  Thomas  More,— Bond,— Spencer,— First  Earl 
of  Northampton,  —  Countess  of  Pembroke,  —  Due  de  Sully, 
Second  Earl  of  Northampton, — Sir  Stephen  Langham. — Gres- 
ham  House. — Sir  Paul  Pindar  389 

CHURCH  OF  ST.  HELEN'S  THE  GREAT. 

Antiquity  of  St.  Helen's  Church.— Priory  of  Benedictine  Nuns 
founded  there. — Exterior  and  Interior  of  the  Church. — Its 
Striking  Monuments :  Sir  Julius  Caesar's,— Martin  Bond's, — 
Sir  John  Crosby's,  —  Sir  William  Pickering's,  —  Sir  Thomas 
Gresham's. — St.  Botolph's  Church.— Persian's  Tomb.— Curtain 
Theatre.— Shoreditch.— Hoxton.— Spitalfields.— Bethnal  Green, 
—Old  Artillery  Ground  407 

LONDON  WALL,  AUSTIN  FRIARS,  &c. 

•Original  Extent  of  London  Wall.— Its  Gates.— The  City  Ditch. 
— Broad  Street. — Austin  Friars. — Monuments  there. — Win- 
chester House. — Finsbury  and  Moorfields. — Bedlam. — Moor- 
gate  Street.  —  New  Artillery  Ground.  —  Milton.  —  Bunhill 
Row.— Bunhill  Fields'  Burial  Ground.  —  Celebrated  Persons 
buried  there. — Grub  Street. — Hoole  and  Dr.  Johnson 425 


BEMARKABLE    PLACES. 


THE  OLD  PALACE  OF  WHITEHALL. 

BY  WHOM  ORIGINALLY  BUILT. — THE  RESIDENCE  OF  CARDINAL  WOLSEY,  HENRY 
THE  EIGHTH,  EDWARD  THE  SIXTH,  QUEEN  ELIZABETH,  AND  JAMES  THE 
FIRST. — BANQUETING  HOUSE. — WHITEHALL  THE  RESIDENCE  OF  CHARLES 
THE  FIRST,  CROMWELL,  JAMES  THE  SECOND,  AND  QUEEN  MARY. 

A  LTHOUGH  the  ancient  Palace  of  Whitehall,  with  its. 
J~\  many  historical  events  and  romantic  associations, 
has  been  almost  entirely  swept  away,  there  still 
remain  sufficient  traces  of  the  old  building  to  enable  us  to 
link  the  present  with  the  past.  The  Cockpit  partially  exists 
in  the  present  Treasury ;  and  the  beautiful  banqueting  House 
still  remains,  from  the  windows  of  which  Charles  the  First 
passed  to  the  scaffold.  The  Tilt  Yard  recalls  the  time  when 
the  open  space  which  still  retains  its  ancient  name  was  alive 
with  armed  warriors  and  streaming  pennons,  and  glittering 
heralds ;  and  when  waving  plumes  and  brilliant  eyes  looked 
down  from  galleries  covered  with  cloth  of  gold  on  the  stirring 
scene  below.  Lastly,  the  Privy  Gardens  still  point  out  the 
site  of  verdant  lawns  and  shady  labyrinths,  where  Wolsey 
discussed  affairs  of  state  with  Cromwell ;  where  Henry  toyed 

VOL.  IL  1 


WHITEHALL. 


with  the  delicate  hand  of  Anne  Boleyn ;  and  where  Charles 
the  Second  gazed  on  the  dazzling  beauty  of  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland,  or  laid  his  head  in  soft  dalliance  on  the  lap  of  la 
belle  Stuart. 

Whitehall  Palace  was  originally  built  by  Hubert  de 
Burgh,  Earl  of  Kent — that  proud  and  powerful  noble 
who,  in  the  days  of  King  John,  stood  by  the  side  of  his 
royal  master  on  the  famous  field  of  Runnymede,  and  who 
in  the  following  reign,  was  dragged  an  ignominious  traitor 
to  the  Tower.  By  De  Burgh  it  was  bequeathed  to  the  Con- 
vent of  the  Black  Friars  in  Holborn,  in  whose  church  his 
body  found  honourable  interment.  By  this  religious  order 
it  was  transferred,  in  1248,  to  Walter  de  Grey,  Archbishop 
of  York ;  from  which  period  till  the  fall  of  Cardinal  Wolsey 
it  continued  to  be  the  London  residence  of  the  prelates  of 
that  see,  and  thence  derived  its  ancient  name  of  York 
House. 

York  House  appears  to  have  been  almost  entirely  rebuilt 
by  Wolsey.  Here,  during  many  years  the  Cardinal  Arch- 
bishop resided  in  a  style  of  regal  splendour  which  has  sel- 
dom been  surpassed  even  by  the  most  magnificent  of  our 
monarchs.  According  to  Storer,  in  his  "Metrical  Life  of 
Wolsey,"— 

"  Where  fruitful  Thames  salutes  the  learned  shores 

Was  this  grave  prelate  and  the  muses  placed, 
And  by  those  waves  he  builded  had  before 
A  royal  house  with  learned  muses  graced, 
But  by  his  death  imperfect  and  defaced." 

Here  Wolsey  entertained  the  learned,  the  witty,  the  beau- 
tiful, and  the  gay,  and  here  he  accumulated  his  vast  libra- 
ries and  exquisite  picture-galleries.  The  walls  of  his 
apartments  were  covered  with  hangings  of  cloth  of  gold  and 
tissue,  and  his  tables  with  velvets,  satins,  and  damasks  of 


CARDINAL  WOLSEY.  3 

various  hues.  Besides  the  great  gallery,  which  is  described 
as  a  scene  of  unparalleled  magnificence,  there  were  two  other 
apartments,  known  as  the  Gilt  and  the  Council  Chamber,  in 
which  stood  two  large  tables  covered  with  articles  of  plate 
of  solid  gold,  many  of  them  studded  with  pearls  and  precious 
stones. 

The  household  of  this  haughty  churchman  consisted  of 
eight  hundred  persons,  many  of  whom  were  knights  and 
noblemen.  Among  them  we  find  the  Earl  of  Derby  and 
the  young  Lord  Percy,  the  heir  of  the  great  Northumber- 
land family,  and  famous  as  the  favoured  lover  of  Anne 
Boleyn.  The  number  of  dependents  employed  in  his  kit- 
chens and  feasted  at  his  board — his  heralds,  physicians, 
secretaries,  and  cofferers — his  marshals,  purveyors,  gentlemen 
ushers,  and  "  counsellors  learned  in  the  law  " — his  clerks  of 
the  check,  of  the  hanaper,  and  of  the  wax — the  chaplains 
who  attended  him  at  his  meals,  and  the  deans  and  choristers 
who  ministered  in  his  chapel — comprise  such  a  list  of  atten- 
dants and  retainers  as  no  modern  court  in  Europe  could  sur- 
pass. "  Of  gentleman  ushers,"  writes  Stowe,  "  he  had  twelve 
daily  waiters,  besides  one  in  the  privy  chamber  ;  and  of  gen- 
tlemen waiters  in  his  privy  chamber  he  had  six ;  of m  lords, 
nine  or  ten,  who  had  each  of  them  two  men  allowed  to 
attend  upon  them,  except  the  Earl  of  Derby,  who  always 
was  allowed  five  men.  Then  had  he  of  gentlemen  cup- 
bearers, carvers,  servers,  both  of  the  privy  chamber  and  of 
the  great  chamber,  with  gentlemen  and  daily  waiters,  forty 
persons ;  of  yeomen  ushers,  six ;  of  grooms  in  his  chamber, 
eight ;  of  yeoman  in  his  chamber,  forty-five  daily.  He  had 
also  almsmen,  sometimes  more  in  number  than  at  other 
times." 

These  numerous  retainers,  it  should  be  observed,  were 
clad  in  the  most  magnificent  liveries.      Even  the  master- 

1—2 


CARDINAL  WOLSEY. 


cook  of  the  Cardinal  was  dressed  in  velvet  and  satin,  and 
wore  a  chain  of  gold  round  his  neck.  Wolsey  himself,  when- 
ever he  was  seen  in  public,  appeared  with  extraordinary 
splendour.  Over  his  cardinal's  robe,  which  was  of  the  finest 
satin  and  of  the  richest  scarlet  dye,  he  wore  a  tippet  of  costly 
sable.  He  was  the  first  clergyman  in  England  who  wore 
silk  and  gold,  and  this,  not  only  on  his  person,  but  on  his 
saddles  and  the  trappings  of  his  horses.  His  Cardinal's  hat 
was  not  only  borne  before  him  by  a  person  of  rank,  but  even 
in  the  King's  chapel  it  was  always  placed  upon  the  altar. 
Wolsey  himself  rode  on  a  mule  the  trappings  of  which  were 
of  crimson  velvet,  and  the  stirrups  of  silver  gilt ;  while  his 
attendants,  consisting  of  gentlemen  and  pursuivants-at-aims, 
were  mounted  on  horses  admirably  trained  and  gorgeously 
caparisoned.  Two  priests,  "  the  tallest  and  most  comely  he 
could  find,"  immediately  preceded  him,  carrying  ponderous 
silver  crosses;  the  one,  the  symbol  of  his  being  a  cardinal,, 
and  the  other  appertaining  to  his  dignity  as  Archbishop  of 
York. 

"The  Cardinal's  banquets,"  writes  his  biographer,  Caven- 
dish, "  were  set  forth  with  masks  and  mummeries,  in  so  gor- 
geous a  sort  and  costly  manner  that  it  was  heaven  to  behold. 
There  wanted  no  dames  or  damsels  meet  or  apt  to  dance  with 
the  maskers,  or  to  garnish  the  place  for  the  time,  with  other 
goodly  desports.  Then  was  there  all  kind  of  music  and 
harmony  set  forth,  with  excellent  voices  both  of  men  and 
children.  I  have  seen  the  King  suddenly  come  in  thither  in 
a  mask,  with  a  dozen  of  other  maskers,  all  in  garments  like 
shepherds,  made  of  fine  cloth  of  gold,  and  fine  crimson  satin 
paned,  and  caps  of  the  same  ;  their  hair  and  beards  either  of 
fine  gold  wire,  or  else  of  silver,  and  some  being  of  black  silk ; 
having  sixteen  torch-bearers  besides  their  drums,  and  other 
persons  attending  upon  them  with  vizors,  and  clothed  all  in 


CARDINAL  WOLSETS  BANQUETS. 


satin  of  the  same  colours.  And  at  his  coming,  and  before 
he  came  into  the  hall,  ye  shall  understand  that  he  came  by 
water  to  the  water-gate,  without  any  noise  :  where,  against 
his  coming,  were  laid  charged  many  cannon,  and  at  his  land- 
ing they  were  all  shot  off,  which  made  such  a  rumble  in  the 
air  that  it  was  like  thunder.  It  made  all  the  noblemen, 
ladies,  and  gentlemen  to  muse  what  it  should  mean  coming 
so  suddenly,  they  sitting  quietly  at  a  solemn  banquet. 

"  First,  ye  shall  perceive  that  the  tables  were  set  in  the 
chamber  of  presence,  banquet-wise  covered,  my  Lord  Car- 
dinal sitting  under  the  cloth  of  estate,  and  there  having  his 
service  all  alone  ;  and  then  was  there  set  a  lady  and  a  noble- 
man, or  a  gentleman  and  gentlewoman,  throughout  all  the 
tables  in  the  chambers  on  the  one  side,  which  were  made  and 
joined  as  it  were  but  one  table.  All  which  order  and  device 
was  done  and  devised  by  the  Lord  Sands,  Lord  Chamberlain 
to  the  King  ;  and  also  by  Sir  Henry  Guildford,  Comptroller 
to  the  King.  Then  immediately  after  this  great  shot  of  guns, 
the  Cardinal  desired  the  Lord  Chamberlain  and  Comptroller 
to  look  what  this  sudden  shot  should  mean,  as  though  he 
knew  nothing  of  the  matter.  They  thereupon  looking  out 
of  the  windows  into  the  Thames,  returned  again,  and  shewed 
him  that  it  seemed  to  them  there  should  be  some  noblemen 
and  strangers  arrived  at  his  bridge,  as  ambassadors  from 
some  foreign  prince.  '  With  that,'  quoth  the  Cardinal,  '  I 
shall  desire  you,  because  ye  can  speak  French,  to  take  the 
pains  to  go  down  into  the  hall  to  encounter  and  to  receive 
them  according  to  their  estates,  and  to  conduct  them  into 
this  chamber,  where  they  shall  see  us,  and  all  these  noble 
personages,  sitting  merrily  at  our  banquet,  desiring  them  to 
sit  down  with  us,  and  to  take  part  of  our  fare  and  pas- 
time.' Then  they  went  incontinent  down  into  the  hall,  where 
they  received  them  with  twenty  new  torches,  and  conveyed 


CARDINAL  WOLSETS  BANQUETS. 


them  into  the  chamber,  with  such  a  number  of  drums  and 
fifes,  as  I  have  seldom  seen  together  at  one  time  in  any 
masque.  At  their  arrival  into  the  chamber,  two  and  two 
together,  they  went  directly  before  the  Cardinal  where  he 
sat,  saluting  him  very  reverently ;  to  whom  the  Lord  Cham- 
berlain for  them  said,  '  Sir,  forasmuch  as  they  are  strangers, 
and  can  speak  no  English,  they  have  desired  to  declare  unto 
your  Grace  thus: — They,  having  understanding  of  this  your 
triumphant  banquet,  where  was  assembled  such  a  number  of 
excellent  fair  dames,  could  do  no  less,  under  the  suppor- 
tation  of  your  good  grace,  but  to  repair  hither  to  view  as 
well  their  incomparable  beauty,  as  for  to  accompany  them 
at  mumchance,  and  then  after  to  dance  with  them,  and  to 
have  of  them  acquaintance.  And,  sir,  they  furthermore 
require  of  your  grace  licence  to  accomplish  the  cause  of 
their  repair.'  To  whom  the  Cardinal  answered, '  that  he  was 
very  well  contented  they  should  do  so.' 

"  Then  the  maskers  went  first  and  saluted  all  the  dames 
as  they  sat,  and  then  returned  to  the  most  worthiest,  and 
there  opened  a  cup  full  of  gold,  with  crowns  and  other 
pieces  of  coin,  to  whom  they  set  diverse  pieces  to  cast  at. 
Thus,  in  this  manner  perusing  all  the  ladies  and  gentle- 
women, and  to  some  they  lost,  and  of  some  they  won.  And 
this  done,  they  returned  unto  the  Cardinal  with  great 
reverence,  pouring  down  all  the  crowns  in  the  cup,  which 
was  about  two  hundred  crowns.  'At  all?'  quoth  the  Car- 
dinal, and  so  cast  the  dice,  and  won  them  all  at  a  cast, 
whereat  was  great  joy  made.  Then  quoth  the  Cardinal 
to  my  Lord  Chamberlain,  '  I  pray  you,'  quoth  he,  '  shew 
them  that  it  seemeth  me  that  there  should  be  among  them 
some  noble  man,  whom  I  suppose  to  be  much  more  worthy 
to  sit  and  occupy  this  place  and  room  than  I,  to  whom  I 
would  most  gladly,  if  I  knew  him,  surrender  my  place 


CARDINAL  WOLSETS  BANQUETS. 


according  to  my  duty.'  Then  spake  my  Lord  Chamberlain 
unto  them  in  French,  declaring  my  Lord  Cardinal's  mind, 
and  they  rounding  him  again  in  the  ear,  my  Lord  Cham- 
berlain said  to  my  Lord  Cardinal,  '  Sir,  they  confess,'  quoth 
he,  '  that  among  them  there  is  such  a  noble  personage, 
whom,  if  your  Grace  can  appoint  him  from  the  others,  he 
is  contented  to  disclose  himself,  and  to  accept  your  place 
most  worthily.'  With  that  the  Cardinal,  taking  a  good 
advisement  among  them,  at  the  last  quoth  he, '  Me  seemeth 
the  gentleman  with  the  black  beard  should  be  even  he.' 
And  with  that  he  arose  out  of  his  chair,  and  offered  the 
same  to  the  gentleman  in  the  black  beard,  with  his  cap  in 
his  hand. 

"  The  person  to  whom  he  offered  then  his  chair,  was  Sir 
Edward  Neville,  a  comely  knight,  of  a  goodly  personage, 
that  much  more  resembled  the  King's  person  in  that  mask 
than  any  other.  The  King,  hearing  and  perceiving  the  Car- 
dinal so  deceived  in  his  estimation  and  choice,  could  not 
forbear  laughing,  but  plucked  down  his  visor,  and  Master 
Neville's  also,  and  dashed  out  with  such  a  pleasant  counte- 
nance and  cheer,  that  all  noble  estates  there  assembled,  see- 
ing the  King  to  be  there  amongst  them,  rejoiced  very  much. 
The  Cardinal  eftsoons  desired  his  Highness  to  take  the  place 
of  estate ;  to  whom  the  King  answered  that  he  would  go 
first  and  shift  his  apparel;  and  so  departed,  and  went 
straight  into  my  lord's  bedchamber,  where  was  a  great  fire, 
made  and  prepared  for  him,  and  there  new-apparelled  him 
with  rich  and  princely  garments.  And  in  the  time  of  the 
King's  absence,  the  dishes  of  the  banquet  were  clean  taken 
up,  and  the  tables  spread  again  with  new  and  sweet  pe,r- 
fumed  cloths ;  every  man  sitting  still  until  the  King  and  bin 
maskers  came  in  among  them  again,  every  man  being  newly 
apparelled.  Then  the  King  took  his  seat  under  the  cloth  of 


CARDINAL  WOLSETS  BANQUETS. 


estate,  commanding  no  man  to  remove,  but  sit  still,  as  they 
did  before.  Then  in  came  a  new  banquet  before  the  King's 
Majesty,  and  to  all  the  rest  through  the  tables,  wherein,  I 
suppose,  were  served  two  hundred  dishes,  or  above,  of  won- 
drous costly  meats  and  devices  subtlely  devised.  Thus 
passed  they  forth  the  whole  night  with  banqueting,  dancing, 
and  other  triumphant  devices,  to  the  great  comfort  of  the 
King  and  pleasant  regard  of  the  nobility  there  assembled." 

The  Presence  Chamber  in  YORK  PLACE. 

A  small  table  under  a  state  for  the  CARDINAL,  a  longer  table  for  the  guests. 
Enter  at  one  door  ANNE  BULLEN,  and  divers  LORDS,  LADIES,  and  GENTLE- 
WOMEN, as  guests  ;  at  another  door  enter  SIR  HENRY  GUILDFORD. 
Guild.      Ladies,  a  general  welcome  from  his  grace 

Salutes  ye  all ;  this  night  he  dedicates 

To  fair  content  and  you  :  none  here,  he  hopes, 

In  all  this  noble  bevy,  has  brought  with  her 

One  care  abroad  ;  he  would  have  all  as  merry 

As,  first,  good  company,  good  wine,  good  welcome, 

Can  make  good  people.     O,  my  lord,  you  are  tardy  : 
Enter  Lord  Chamberlain,  LORD  SANDS,  and  SIR  THOMAS  LOVELL. 

The  very  thought  of  this  fair  company 

Clapp'd  wings  to  me. 

Chamb.   You  are  young,  Sir  Harry  Guildford. 
/Sands.  ....         By  my  life, 

They  are  a  sweet  society  of  fair  ones. ' 
Cliamb.    Sweet  ladies,  will  it  please  you  sit  ?  Sir  Harry, 

Place  you  that  side  ;  I'll  take  the  charge  of  this  : 

His  grace  is  entering.     Nay,  you  must  not  freeze ; 

Two  women  placed  together  makes  cold  weather  : 

My  Lord  Sands,  you  are  one  will  keep  'em  waking  ; 

Pray,  sit  between  these  ladies. 
Sands.  By  my  faith, 

And  thank  your  lordship.     By  your  leave,  sweet  ladies. 

Seats  himself  between  ANNE  BULLEN  and  another  lady. 

If  I  chance  to  talk  a  little  wild,  forgive  me  ; 

I  had  it  from  my  father. 

Anne.  Was  he  mad,  sir  ? 

Sands.     0,  very  mad,  exceeding  mad,  in  love  too  : 

But  he  would  bite  none  ;  just  as  I  do  now, 

He  would  kiss  you  twenty  with  a  breath.  [Kisses  Jier.] 

Chamb.  Well  said,  my  Lord. 

So,  now  you're  fairly  seated.     Gentlemen, 


CARDINAL  WOLSETS  BANQUETS.  9 

The  penance  lies  on  you,  if  these  fair  ladies 
Pass  away  frowning. 

Enter  CARDINAL  WOLSEY,  attemled  ;  and  takes  his  state. 
WoL        You're  welcome,  my  fair  guests  ;  that  noble  lady, 
Or  gentleman,  that  is  not  freely  merry, 
Is  not  my  friend  :  this,  to  confirm  my  welcome  ; 
And  to  you  all,  good  health. 

[Drum  and  trumpets  within :  Chambers  discharged.} 

What  warlike  voice, 

And  to  what  end,  is  this  ?    Nay,  ladies,  fear  not ; 

By  all  the  laws  of  war  you're  privileged. 
Sfrv.  A  noble  troop  of  strangers  ; 

For  so  they  seem  ;  they  have  left  their  barge  and  landed  ; 

And  hither  make,  as  great  ambassadors 

From  foreign  princes. 
Wol.  Good  Lord  Chamberlain, 

Go,  give  'em  welcome  ;  you  can  speak  the  French  tongue  ; 

And,  pray,  receive  'em  nobly,  and  conduct  'em 

Into  our  presence,  where  this  heaven  of  beauty 

Shall  shine  at  full  upon  them.     Some  attend  him. 

Enter  tJie  KING,  and  twelve  others,  as  maskers,  habited  like  shepherds,  with 
sixteen  torch-bearers;  ushered  by  the  LORD  CHAMBERLAIN.  They  pass 
directly  before  the  CARDINAL,  and  gracefully  salute  him. 

Wol.        A  noble  company  !  what  are  their  pleasures  ? 
Chamb,   Because  they  speak  no  English,  thus  they  pray'd 

To  tell  your  grace,  that,  having  heard  by  fame 

Of  this  so  noble  and  so  fair  assembly 

This  night  to  meet  here,  they  could  do  no  less, 

Out  of  the  great  respect  they  bear  to  beauty, 

But  leave  their  flocks  ;  and,  under  your  fair  conduct, 

Crave  leave  to  view  these  ladies  and  entreat 

An  hour  of  revels  with  'em. 
Wol.  Say,  Lord  Chamberlain, 

They  have  done  my  poor  house  grace  ;  for  which  I  pay  'em 

A  thousand  thanks,  and  pray  'em  take  their  pleasures. 

[Ladies  chosen  for  the  dance.     The  KING  chooses  ANNE  BULLEW.] 

K.  Hen.  The  fairest  hand  I  ever  touched  !    O  beauty, 

Till  now  I  never  knew  thee. 
Wol.        My  Lord.— 
•Chamb.  Your  Grace  ? 

Wol.        Pray,  tell  'em  thus  much  for  me  : 

There  should  be  one  amongst  'em,  by  his  person, 

More  worthy  this  place  than  myself  ;  to  whom, 


10  CARDINAL  WOLSEY'S  BANQUETS. 

If  I  but  knew  him,  with  my  love  and  duty 

I  would  surrender  it. 
Chamb.  I  will,  my  Lord. 

[CHAMB.  goes  to  the  company,  and  returns.] 
Wol.        What  say  they  ? 
Chamb.  Such  a  one,  they  all  confess, 

There  is  indeed  ;  which  they  would  have  your  grace 

Find  out,  and  he  will  take  it. 
Wol.  Let  me  see,  then.     [Comes  from  his  state.} 

By  all  your  good  leaves,  gentlemen  ;  here  I'll  make 

My  royal  choice. 
K.  Hen.  You  have  found  him,  cardinal :        [Unmasking. \ 

You  hold  a  fair  assembly  ;  you  do  well,  lord  : 

You  are  a  churchman,  or,  I'll  tell  you,  cardinal, 

I  should  judge  now  unhappily. 
Wol.  I  am  glad 

Your  Grace  is  grown  so  pleasant.  > 

K.  Hen.  My  Lord  Chamberlain, 

Prithee,  come  hither  :  what  fair  lady's  that  ? 
Chamb.   An't  please  your  Grace,  Sir  Thomas  Bullen's  daughter, — 

The  Viscount  Rochford, — one  of  her  highness'  women. 
K.  Hen.  By  Heaven,  she  is  a  dainty  one.     Sweetheart, 
;          I  were  unmannerly,  to  take  you  out, 

And  not  to  kiss  you.     A  health,  gentlemen  ! 

Let  it  go  round. 
Wol.        Sir  Thomas  Lovel,  is  the  banquet  ready 

I'  the  privy  chamber  ! 

Lov.  Yes,  my  lord. 

Wol.  Your  Grace, 

I  fear,  with  dancing  is  a  little  heated. 
K.  Hen.  I  fear,  too  much. 
Wol.  There's  fresher  air,  my  lord, 

In  the  next  chamber. 
K.  Hen.  Lead  in  your  ladies,  every  one  :  sweet  partner, 

I  must  not  yet  forsake  yo\\ :  let's  be  merry  ; 

Good  my  lord  Cardinal,  I  have  half  a  dozen  healths 

To  drink  to  these  fair  ladies,  and  a  measure 

To  lead  'em  once  again  j  and  then  let  's  dream 

Who  's  best  in  favour.     Let  the  music  knock  it. 

\  [Exeunt  with  trumpets.J 

King  Henry  VIII.,  act  i.,  sc.  4. 

When  the  star  of  Wolsey's  grandeur  set,  it  was  at  York 
House  that  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  waited  on  him  to  require 
his  resignation  of  the  Great  Seal.  It  was  here  also  that  the 
great  Cardinal  subsequently  bade  farewell — "a  long  fare- 


CARDINAL  WOLSETS  DOWNFALL.  11 

well  " — to  all  his  greatness.  Having  directed  that  a  careful 
inventory  should  be  taken  of  his  valuable  plate  and  costly 
stores,  which  he  ordered  to  be  delivered  over  to  the  King, 
"  he  took  barge  at  his  privy  stairs,  and  so  went  by  water  to 
Putney,"  on  his  way  to  Esher.  In  December,  1529,  he  sur- 
rendered his  palace  into  the  hands  of  his  royal  master, 
shortly  after  which  the  name  of  York  House  was  prohibited, 
and  that  of  Whitehall  substituted  in  its  stead. 

So  she  parted, 

And  with  the  same  full  state  paced  back  again 

To  York-place,  where  the  feast  is  held. 
1st  Gent.  Sir, 

You  must  no  more  call  it  York-place  ;  that's  past. 

For,  since  the  Cardinal  fell,  that  title's  lost ; 

Tis  now  the  King's,  and  called  Whitehall. 
3rd  Gent.  I  know  it  ; 

But  'tis  so  lately  alter'd,  that  the  old  name 

Is  fresh  about  me.  King  Henry  VIII.,  act  iv.,  sc.  1. 

After  the  disgrace  of  Wolsey,  Henry  seems  to  have  lost 
no  time  in  occupying  the  palace  of  his  discarded  favourite, 
for,  in  November,  the  same  year,  we  find  him  giving  audi- 
ence at  Whitehall  to  a  deputation  from  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, and  here,  on  the  6th  of  December  following,  he  con- 
ferred Earldoms  on  the  Viscounts  Rochford  and  Fitzwalter, 
and  Lord  Hastings. 

How  changed  the  scene  where  Queens  intwined  their  bowers  ! 
Where  fountains  sparkled  'midst  a  blaze  of  flowers  ! 
Where  Kings  embarked  upon  the  silvery  Thames, 
Begirt  with  Gartered  lords  and  jewelled  dames  ; 
While  Pleasure  bade  the  bannered  vessel  glide, 
And  music  float  vipon  the  laughing  tide  ! 

Yes,  changed  the  scene  where  Wolsey  loved  to  rove  ; 
Where  Henry  strayed  with  Boleyn  in  the  grove  ; 
Yet  still  Imagination's  eye  can  trace 
The  mighty  churchman  in  his  pride  of  place  ; 
Can  paint  the  splendour  of  his  daily  board, 
The  liveried  army  and  the  menial  lord  ! 
But  where  are  now  the  more  than  regal  state, 
The  siimmer  guests,  the  suppliants  at  his  gate  ? 


3  2  ANNE  BOLEYN'S  MA RRIA  GE. 

Calmly  he  sleeps  in  Leicester's  cloistered  aisle, 

Safe  from  a  people's  liate,  a  tyrant's  smile  ; 

And  alien  guards  and  alien  guests  are  there 

Where  Henry's  throne  usurps  his  favourite's  chair  ; 

While  Beauty's  stately  form  and  dazzling  eye 

Relume  the  lighted  hall  and  gallery  high. 

See  youthful  Mary,  plighted  bride  of  France, 

Half  pleased,  half  angry,  turn  from  Brandon's  glance  ; 

See  where,  with  flashing  eyes  and  angry  mien, 

In  lonely  state  sits  Henry's  injured  Queen  ; 

See  Surrey  whisper  his  enamoured  line 

In  tender  dalliance  to  his  Geraldine  ; 

But  mark,  in  yonder  rich  recess  apart, 

Where  Henry  woos  the  lady  of  his  heart ; 

Toys  with  her  small,  soft  hand,  allays  her  fears, 

And  pleads  his  suit  to  no  offended  ears, 

While  she,  the  envy  of  that  glittering  ring, 

Fans  while  she  chides  the  ardour  of  her  King. 

Ill-fateJ  Boleyn  !  when  thy  footsteps  strayed 

With  hearts  as  light  through  Hever's  hawthorn  glade, 

Without  a  care  beyond  thy  birds  and  flowers, 

The  blithest  warbler  in  thy  native  bowers  ; 

Then,  when  young  Percy,  seated  by  thy  side, 

Took  thy  fair  hand,  and  claimed  thee  for  his  bride, 

Or,  weaving  rose-wreaths  for  thy  peerless  brow, 

Stole  the  sweet  kiss  that  ratified  his  vow  ; 

Was  not  that  May-time  of  thy  life  more  blest 

Than  now  a  tyrant  lures  thee  to  his  breast  ? 

Fair,  transient  plaything  for  a  tyrant's  lust, 

Too  soon  shall  time  and  rivals  breed  mistrust ; 

Possession  cloy,  satiety  begin, 

And  venial  faults  be  blackened  into  sin. 

So  !  darkly  lower  the  gathering  clouds  of  fate  ; 

Gleams  the  keen  axe,  and  yawns  the  Traitor's  gate  ; 

And  Boleyn's  dying  smile,  and  parting  moan 

Arraign  the  charms  she  bartered  for  a  throne. — J.  H.  J. 

The  marriage  of  Henry  to  the  ill-fated  Anne  Boleyn  took 
place  at  Whitehall,  on  the  25th  of  January,  1533.  On  that 
day,  according  to  Stow — "  King  Henry  privately  married 
the  Lady  Anne  Boleyn  in  his  closet  at  Whitehall,  being  St. 
Paul's  day."  Early  in  the  morning,  it  seems,  Dr.  Lee,  one  of 
the  royal  chaplains — afterwards  Bishop  of  Lichfield  and 
Coventry — was  sent  for  to  perform  mass  in  the  King's 


HOLBEIN'S  GA  TE WA  Y.  13- 

closet,  where  he  found  with  the  King  Anne  Boleyn  and  her 
train-bearer  Mrs.  Savage,  afterwards  Lady  Berkeley,  and  two 
of  the  grooms  of  the  bedchamber.  According  to  Lord 
Herbert  of  Cherbury,  Archbishop  Cranmer  assisted  at  the 
ceremony. 

Henry  made  great  additions  to  Whitehall.  Having  pm> 
chased  and  enclosed  the  ground  now  known  as  St.  James's 
Park,  he  raised  a  tennis-court,  cock-pit,  and  bowling-green, 
on  the  site  of  the  present  Treasury  and  the  public  offices 
adjoining.  He  built  also  a  splendid  gallery  overlooking  the 
tilt-yard,  on  the  site  of  a  part  of  the  present  Horse  Guards 
and  Dover  House.  These  buildings  Henry  connected  with 
the  old  palace  by  a  magnificent  gateway  and  arch — from 
the  designs  of  Holbein — which  spanned  the  street  immedi- 
ately below  the  present  Banqueting  House.  From  the  gal- 
lery above  mentioned,  Henry,  and  subsequently  his  daughter 
Elizabeth,  were  accustomed  to  view  the  jousts  and  tourna- 
ments in  the  tilt-yard  below.  From  this  gallery  also,  when, 
in  May,  1539,  the  invasion  of  England  was  threatened  by 
the  Catholic  potentates  of  Europe,  Henry  reviewed  no  fewer 
than  fifteen  thousand  armed  citizens,  consisting  of  gunners, 
pikemen,  archers  and  billmen,  whose  appearance  Holinshed 
describes  as  presenting  a  magnificent  sight.  Holbein's  beau- 
tiful gate  was  removed  in  1750  for  the  purpose  of  widening 
the  street.  It  had  been  the  intention  of  William  Duke  of 
Cumberland,  the  son  of  George  the  Second,  to  rebuild  it  at 
the  top  of  the  Long  Walk  at  Windsor,  but  for  some  reason 
the  design  was  never  put  into  execution. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  faults  of  Henry  the  Eighth, 
he  has  at  least  the  merit  of  having  been  a  munificent  patron 
of  the  arts.  He  himself  combined  the  accomplishments  of 
a  scholar,  a  musician,  an  architect,  and  a  poet.  The  collec- 
tion of  pictures  which  he  made  at  Whitehall  was  the  found- 


14  DEATH  OF  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH. 

ation  of  the  famous  gallery  formed  by  Prince  Henry,  and  his 
brother  Charles  the  First.  Raffaelle  and  Titian  were  seve- 
rally invited  by  Henry  to  England,  while  Holbein  had  apart- 
ments at  Whitehall,  where  he  was  engaged,  at  an  annual 
salary  of  two  hundred  florins,  to  decorate  the  interior  of 
the  palace. 

At  Whitehall  Henry  signed  his  will  on  the  30th  of  De- 
cember, 1547,  and  here,  on  the  28th  of  January  following, 
he  died.  Latterly  he  had  become  more  fretful  and  impatient, 
and  as  many  persons  had  suffered  as  traitors  during  his  reign 
for  foretelling  his  death,  it  was  long  before  any  one  could  be 
found  bold  enough  to  apprise  him  that  his  condition  was  a 
dangerous  one.  At  length  the  task  was  undertaken  by  Sir 
Anthony  Denny,  owing  to  whose  exhortations  the  King 
would  seem  to  have  been  induced  to  send  for  Archbishop 
Cranmer,  before  whose  arrival,  however,  at  the  palace, 
Henry  had  become  speechless.  Nevertheless,  on  the  Arch- 
bishop desiring  him  to  give  some  sign  of  his  dying  in  the 
faith  of  Christ,  he  pressed  the  prelate's  hand,  and  almost 
immediately  expired. 

During  the  brief  reign  of  the  studious  and  accomplished 
Edward  the  Sixth,  Whitehall  presented  a  very  different 
aspect  to  what  it  had  worn  in  the  days  of  his  father.  In 
the  Privy  Gardens — so  recently  filled  with  the  beauty  and 
chivalry  of  the  land — Bishop  Latimer  was  to  be  seen 
preaching  from  a  raised  pulpit  to  the  young  King  and  a 
devout  audience;  while  the  hours  of  the  night  which 
Henry  had  devoted  to  revelry  and  the  dance  were  passed 
by  his  successor  in  study,  meditation,  and  prayer. 

Tell  me  what  light  in  yonder  turret  gleams, 

The  one,  Lone  light  that  o'er  the  water  streams  ?  « 

There  sits  the  sceptred  boy,  the  student  King, 

For  whom  no  charms  the  dance  or  banquet  bring. 


WHITEHALL  IN  ELIZABETH'S  TIME.  15 

Though  all  youth's  young  desires  are  round  him  strown, 

With  more  than  earthly  beauty  and  a  throne, 

For  him  in  vain  the  Flatterer  spreads  his  net, 

Or  Beauty  lures  with  eyes  of  luscious  jet. 

Immersed  in  holy  or  in  classic  lore, 

His  ermine  lies  discarded  on  the  floor. 

Yet,  ah  !  too  well  Affection's  eye  can  trace 

Consumption's  hectic  burning  on  his  face  ; 

But  hovering  Angels  watch  o'er  Virtue's  friend, 

And  Faith  and  Hope  conduct  him  to  his  end, 

Well  pleased  the  blameless  sufferer  lies  him  down,  \jOujb 

To  change  an  earthly  for  a  heavenly  tlirone. —  J.  H.  J. 

During  the  reign  of  Queen  Mary  we  discover  little  or  no 
interest  connected  with  Whitehall ;  unless,  indeed,  we  record 
the  fact  that  hence  her  coronation  procession  passed  by 
water  to  Westminster ;  her  sister  Elizabeth  bearing  the  crown 
before  her. 

With  the  accession  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  however,  White- 
hall resumed  its  ancient  glory.  The  last  time,  apparently, 
she  had  slept  under  the  roof  had  been  on  the  night  on 
which  she  had  been  led  here  a  prisoner  for  her  presumed 
share  in  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt's  conspiracy.  Here  it  was  that 
she  received  the  startling  tidings  that  she  was  to  be  incarce- 
rated in  the  Tower,  and  hence  she  was  led,  on.  Palm  Sunday, 
1554,  to  the  private  water-entrance  of  the  palace,  where  a 
boat  was  in  waiting  to  convey  her  to  the  fatal  fortress  within 
the  walls  of  which  the  axe  had  fallen  on  the  neck  of  her 
unfortunate  mother,  Anne  Boleyn. 

After  the  accession  of  Elizabeth,  Whitehall  became  the 
scene  of  her  pastimes  and  other  diversions,  and  here  she 
surrounded  herself  with  those  eminent  statesmen,  scholars, 
and  poets,  whose  names  have  thrown  so  much  lustre  on  her 
reign. 

Behold,  refulgent  on  her  throne  of  gold, 
Eliza  girt  by  many  a  warrior  bold  ; 


16  QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 

By  statesman,  wit,  philosopher,  and  sage, 

The  master-spirits  of  a  giant  age. 

There  leans  the  Bard  who  sang  by  Avon's  tide  ; 

There  frown  the  chiefs  who  marred  the  Armada's  pride. 

There  glitters  courtly  Walsingham,  and  there 

Young  Essex  sighs  soft  homage  to  the  fair  ; 

Whilst  she,  the  lion-lady  of  the  State, 

Apart  with  Burleigh  holds  the  grave  debate  ; 

With  Bacon  Nature's  hidden  wealth  explores, 

Or  roves  with  Ptaleigh  India's  golden  shores  ; 

Or  glides  with  Hatton  through  the  stately  dance, 

Bending  on  Leicester's  form  a  tenderer  glance  ; 

Leicester,  whose  lips  in  Windsor's  flowery  grove, 

Had  dared  to  broach  the  dangerous  theme  of  love.' 

But  Time  and  Grief  have  changed  the  Lion  Queen  ; 
Behold  her  wrinkled  brow  and  haggard  mien  ! 
Stretched  on  her  splendid,  solitary  bed, 
The  dying  monarch  clasps  her  throbbing  head. 
Lo,  with  what  agonizing  gaze  is  scann'd 
The  one  prized  ring  that  sparkles  on  her  hand  ; 
Dear,  sad  memorial  of  a  softer  hour, 
When  Love  and  Essex  swayed  their  witching  power. 
Essex,  thine  own  loved  Essex  ! — where  is  he  ? 
Nay,  start  not,  lady  ;  'twas  thine  own  decree. 
What  thoiigh  his  fiery  soul,  his  rival's  hate, 
And  woman's  treacherous  friendship,  sealed  his  fate, 
Thine  was  the  great  prerogative,  to  save, 
And  yet  thou  doom'dst  him  to  a  traitor's  grave  ; 
Doom'dst  him  to  curse  thee  with  his  latest  breath, 
Thee — the  fell  worker  of  his  bloody  death. — J.  H.  J. 

It  was  in  the  great  gallery,  built  by  her  father  at  White- 
hall, that  Elizabeth  received  the  deputation  from  Parliament 
which  humbly  and  respectfully  "  moved  her  grace  to  mar- 
riage ;"  and  hence  also  it  was  that  she  proceeded  in  proces- 
sion, in  1559-60,  to  meet  her  first  Parliament.  "  On  Wed- 
nesday, Jan.  25,"  writes  Holinshed,  "  the  Parliament  began, 
the  Queen's  Majesty  riding  in  her  parliament  robes,  from  her 
Palace  of  Whitehall  to  the  Abbey  Church  of  Westminster, 
with  tho  Lords  Spiritual  and  Temporal  attending  her,  like- 
wise in  their  parliament  robes." 


THE  TILT  YARD  AT  WHITEHALL.  17 

Elizabeth,  like  her  father,  took  an  especial  delight  in  the 
Tilt  Yard.  Here,  in  1581,  when  the  Commissioners  arrived 
in  England  to  treat  concerning  her  projected  marriage  with 
the  Due  d'Anjou,  Elizabeth  entertained  her  illustrious  guests 
with  one  of  the  most  magnificent  tournaments  that  had 
ever  been  held  in  England.  She  herself  was  seated  in  the 
gallery  overlooking  the  Tilt  Yard,  "  called,"  writes  Holin- 
shed,  "and  not  without  reason,  the  castle  or  fortress  of 
perfect  Beauty."  Among  the  defenders  of  the  castle  of 
Beauty  we  find  the  Queen's  devoted  champion,  Sir  Henry 
Lee,  that  gallant  Knight  of  the  Garter  whose  vow  it  had 
been  to  present  himself  armed  at  the  Tilt  Yard  at  White- 
hall on  the  27th  of  November  of  every  year  till  disabled  by 
age.  The  challengers  of  Beauty's  fortress  personating  the 
four  foster-children  of  Desire,  were  tl?e  Earl  of  Arundel,  the 
Lord  Windsor,  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  and  Sir  Fulke  Greville. 

This  "  amorous  foolery,"  as  it  is  styled  by  Pennant,  com- 
menced with  the  challengers  summoning  the  fortress  to 
surrender  in  a  "  delectable  song,"  commencing  with  the 
following  verses : — 

"  Yield,  yield,  0  yield,  you  that  this  fort  do  hold, 

Which  seated  is  in  spotless  Honour's  field  ; 
Desire's  great  force,  no  forces  can  withhold, 

Then  to  Desire's  desire,  0  yield,  0  yield  ! 
Yield,  yield,  O  yield  ; — trust  not  to  beauty's  pride  ; 

Fairness,  though  fair,  is  but  a  feeble  shield  ; 
When  strong  Desire,  which  Virtue's  love  doth  guide, 

Claims  but  to  gain  his  due  ; — yield,  yield,  O  yield  I" 

The  fortress,  however,  refusing  to  surrender,  "  two  cannon 
were  fired  off — one  with  sweet  powder,  and  the  other  with 
sweet  water — and  after  there  were  store  of  pretty  scaling 
ladders,  and  then  the  footmen  threw  flowers  and  such 
fancies  against  the  walls,  with  all  such  devices  as  might 
seem  shot  from  Desire."  Suddenly,  while  this  pleasant 

VOL.  II.  2 


18         ELIZABETH'S  FONDNESS  FOR  MASQUES. 

siege  was  being  carried  on,  the  defenders  of  Beauty,  clad  in 
sumptuous  apparel,  entered  the  lists,  and  attacking  the 
challengers  and  their  partisans,  a  regular  "  tourneie  "  took 
place,  in  which  Sir  Henry  Lee  "brake  his  six  staves,"  and 
many  others  "jousted  right  valiantly,"  till  twilight  separated 
the  combatants.  "These  courtly  triumphs,"  as  they  are 
described  by  Holinshed — "  set  forth  with  the  most  costlie 
braverie  and  gallantness" — were  continued  the  following 
day,  concluding  with  a  fantastic  pageant  in  which  the  chal- 
lengers made  their  submission  to  the  Queen,  and  expressed 
their  sense  of  their  own  "  degeneracy  and  unworthyness  in 
making  violence  accompany  Desire." 

Elizabeth  retained  her  taste  for  these  splendid  buffooneries 
to  the  close  of  her  long  life.  Even  when  she  had  entered 
upon  her  sixty-seventM  year,  and  when  her  heart  was  pro- 
fessedly in  the  bloody  tomb  of  her  beloved  Essex,  we  find  her 
taking  a  prominent  part  in  a  masque  given  by  Lord  Cobham 
at  Blackfriars,  on  the  occasion  of  Lord  Herbert's  marriage 
with  a  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury. 

"  The  Herberts,  every  Cock-pit  day, 
Do  carry  away, 
The  gold  and  glory  of  the  day."  * 

Being,  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  "wooed  to  dance"  by 
a  masque  who  personated  Affection — "  Affection !"  she  ex- 
claimed bitterly.  "  Affection  is  false !"  And  yet  we  find 
the  royal  lady,  though  with  wrinkled  face,  little  eyes,  hooked 
nose,  and  black  teeth,  as  Hentzner  describes  her  at  this 
time,  actually  rising  up  and  dancing.  "Her  Majesty  is 
very  well,"  writes  another  contemporary;  "this  day  she 
appoints  to  see  a  Frenchman  do  feats  in  the  Conduit  Court. 
To-moiTOw  she  hath  commanded  the  bears,  the  bull,  and  the 

»        *  Lodge's  "Illustrations." 


HENTZNER'S  VISIT  TO  ENGLAND.  19 

ape  to  be  baited  in  the  Tilt  Yard ;  upon  Wednesday  she 
will  have  solemn  dancing."*  Such  was  the  extraordinary 
woman  who  could  admirably  direct  the  affairs  of  a  great 
monarchy  at  one  moment,  and  yet  attend  a  bull-bait  or 
dance  a  minuet  the  next ;  she  who  could  sign  the  death- 
warrant  of  a  sister-queen,  or  of  a  beloved  favourite,  with 
the  same  pen  with  which  she  had  previously  translated  a 
play  of  Euripides  or  an  oration  of  Isocrates. 

To  Hentzner,  the  German  traveller  who  visited  England 
at  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  the  palace  of  White- 
hall appeared  to  be  a  "  truly  royal"  one.  The  royal  library, 
he  says,  was  well  stored  with  Greek,  Latin,  Italian  and 
French  books,  and  among  the  rest  was  a  little  French  work, 
upon  parchment,  written  in  Elizabeth's  own  hand,  and  ad- 
dressed to  her  father.^  Hentzner's  further  description  of 
Whitehall  is  chiefly  confined  to  a  catalogue  of  curiosities  to 
be  seen  in  the  various  apartments.  They  consisted  princi- 
pally of  embroidered  quilts,  silver  cabinets  containing 
writing  materials,  the  passion  of  our  Saviour  in  painted 
glass,  a  chest  containing  the  Queen's  jewellery,  a  piece  of 
clockwork  surmounted  by  an  Ethiopian  riding  on  a  rhino- 
ceros, and  other  fantastic  articles,  the  names  of  which  are 
not  worth  transcribing. 

It  was  from  the  orchard  at  Whitehall,  where  the  Lords 
of  the  Council  had  assembled  after  the  breath  quitted  the 
body  of  Elizabeth,  that  they  despatched  a  messenger  to 
James  the  First,  acquainting  him  of  his  accession  to  the 
English  throne.  At  the  same  time  he  was  proclaimed  King 

*  "  Sydney  Papers." 

t  "  To  the  most  high,  puissant,  and  redoubted  Prince,  Henry  VIII.  of 
the  name,  King  of  England,  France,  and  Ireland,  Defender  of  the  Faith  ; 
Elizabeth,  his  most  humble  daughter,  health  and  obedience."  Hentzner's 
"Journey  to  England,"  p.  29. 

2—2 


20  AMUSEMENTS  OF  JAMES  THE  FIRST. 

in  front  of  the  palace  by  Sir  Robert  Cecil.  His  arrival  at 
Whitehall  took  place  on  the  7th  of  May,  1603,  a  few  days 
after  which  we  find  him  conferring  the  honour  of  knight- 
hood in  the  garden  of  the  palace  on  the  principal  law  offi- 
cers, his  gentlemen-ushers,  and  others.  Among  the  former 
was  the  great  Lord  Bacon. 

The  tastes  and  amusements  introduced  at  Whitehall  by 
the  Scottish  monarch  differed  widely  in  general  from  the 
chivalrous  pastimes  and  amusements  which  had  distinguished 
the  court  of  his  predecessor.  "The  King,"  writes  Sir 
Anthony  Weldon,  "would  come  forth  after  supper  to  see 
pastimes  and  fooleries,  in  which  Sir  Edward  Zouch,  Sir 
George  Goring,  and  Sir  John  Finett  were  the  chief  and 
master-fools :  and  surely  this  fooling  got  them  more  than 
any  other's  wisdom,  far  above  them  in  desert.  Zouch's  part 
was  to  sing  bawdy  songs  and  tell  bawdy  tales,  Finett  to 
compose  these  songs.  Then  were  a  set  of  fiddlers  brought 
up  on  purpose  for  this  fooling ;  and  Goring  was  master  of 
the  game  of  fooleries,  sometimes  presenting  David  Droman 
and  Archie  Armstrong  on  the  back  of  the  other  fools,  to  tilt 
one  at  the  other,  till  they  fell  together  by  the  ears  :  some- 
times the  property  was  presented  by  them  in  antic  -dances. 
But  Sir  J.  Millisent,  who  was  never  known  before,  was  com- 
mended for  notable  fooling,  and  so  was,  indeed,  the  best 
extemporary  fool  of  them  all."  These  buffooneries,  however, 
were  in  a  great  degree  redeemed  by  the  more  refined  taste 
of  the  King's  consort,  Anne  of  Denmark,  under  whose 
patronage  were  represented  at  Whitehall  those  magnificent 
masques,  many  of  them  the  productions  of  Ben  Jonson, 
which,  we  are  told,  made  "the  nights  more  costly  than  the- 
days." 

During  the  reign  of  James  the  First  there  occurred  more 
than  one  incident  tending  to  throw  an  interest  over  the 


JONSON'S  "  21ASQ UE  OF  BLA CKNESS."  21 

ancient  palace  of  Whitehall.  Here,  for  instance,  in  January, 
1604-5,  when  only  four  years  of  age  the  unfortunate  Charles 
the  First  was  created  Duke  of  York,  and  made  a  Knight  of 
the  Bath.  A  sword  was  girded  on  the  side  of  the  royal 
infant,  a  coronet  of  gold  placed  on  his  head,  and  a  golden 
verge  in  his  hand.  "  There  was  a  public  dinner,"  writes  Sir 
Dudley  Carleton,  "  in  the  great  chamber,  where  there  was 
one  table  for  the  Duke  and  his  Earls  assistants,  another  for 
his  fellow  Knights  of  the  Bath.  At  night  we  had  the 
Queen's  mask  in  the  Banqueting  House,  or  rather  her 
pageant.  There  was  a  great  engine  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
room  which  had  motion,  and  in  it  were  the  images  of  sea- 
horses, with  other  terrible  fishes,  which  were  ridden  by 
Moors.  The  indecorum  was,  that  there  was  all  fish  and  no 
water.  At  the  further  end  was  a  great  shell,  in  the  form  of 
a  shallop,  wherein  were  four  seats.  In  the  lowest  sat  the 
Queen,  with  my  Lady  Bedford ;  in  the  rest  were  placed  my 
Ladies  Suffolk,  Derby,  Rich,  Effingnam,  Ann  Herbert,  Susan 
Herbert,  Elizabeth  Howard,  Walsingham,  and  Bevil.  Their 
appearance  was  rich,  but  too  light  and  courtezan-like  for 
such  great  ones."*  The  pageant  was  succeeded  by  a  ball, 
at  which  the  Queen  was  "  taken  out "  by  the  Spanish  Am- 
bassador, and  concluded  with  a  magnificent  banquet.  It 
may  be  mentioned  that  the  masque  performed  on  this  occa- 
sion was  Ben  Jonson's  "  Masque  of  Blackness,"  in  which 
the  Queen  and  her  ladies  had  their  faces  and  hands  painted 
to  represent  Ethiopians.  The  expense  of  the  entertainment 
amounted  to  three  thousand  pounds. 

In  the  month  of  October,  1604,  took  place  at  Whitehall, 
the  marriage  of  Philip  Herbert  Earl  of  Montgomery — the 
'"memorable  simpleton"  of  Horace  Walpole — with  Lady 

*  Letter  from  Sir  Dudley  Carleton  to  Mr.  Winwood,  dated  Jan.  1601. 
Winwood's  "Memorials." 


22     MARRIAGE  OF  THE  EARL  OF  MONTGOMERY. 

Susan  Vere,  daughter  of  Edward,  seventeenth  Earl  of  Oxford- 
The  bride  was  led  to  church  by  Henry  Prince  of  Wales  and 
the  Duke  of  Holstein ;  the  King  himself  giving  her  away  at 
the  altar.  So  lovely,  we  are  told,  she  looked  in  her  tresses 
and  jewels  and  bridal  array,  as  to  draw  from  the  King  the 
observation  that,  "  were  he  unmarried  he  would  keep  her 
himself."  The  marriage  ceremony  was  followed  by  a  splen- 
did banquet,  which  was  succeeded  by  as  magnificent  a 
masque.  "  There  was  no  small  loss  that  night,"  says  Sir 
Dudley  Carleton,  "  of  chains  and  jewels,  and  many  great 
ladies  were  made  shorter  by  the  skirts.  The  presents  of 
plate  and  other  things  given  by  the  noblemen,  were  valued 
at  £2,500  ;  but  that  which  made  it  a  good  marriage,  was  a 
gift  of  the  King's,  of  £500  land,  for  the  bride's  jointure. 
They  were  lodged  in  the  Council-chamber,  where  the  King, 
in  his  shirt  and  night-gown,  gave  them  a  reveille-matin 
before  they  were  up,  and  spent  a  good  time  in  or  upon  the 
bed.  No  ceremony  was  omitted  of  bride-cakes,  points,  gar- 
ters, and  gloves,  which  have  been  ever  since  the  livery  of 
the  court ;  and  at  night  there  was  sewing  into  the  sheet, 
casting  off  the  bride's  left  hose,  and  many  other  pretty  sor- 
ceries."* 

It  was  to  the  King's  bedchamber  at  Whitehall,  that  Guy 
Fawkes,  bound  hand  and  foot,  was  dragged  for  examination 
before  the  King  and  Council  after  his  arrest  by  Sir  Thomas 
Knevett  on  the  threshold  of  the  cellar  beneath  the  House  of 
Lords.  Retaining  the  bearing  of  a  gentleman  and  a  soldier, 
notwithstanding  the  rack  and  the  gibbet  stared  him  in  the 
face,  he  met  the  taunts  of  the  Lords  of  the  Council  with 
scorn,  and  retorted  their  inquisitive  glances  with  looks  of 
defiance.  When  asked  by  one  of  the  numerous  Scottish 
favourites  of  James,  what  he  had  intended  to  have  done 
*  Winwood's  "Memorials." 


GUY  FAWKES.  23 


with  so  many  barrels  of  gunpowder — "  One  of  my  objects," 
he  replied,  contemptuously,  "  was  to  blow  Scotchmen  back 
into  Scotland."  Unhesitatingly  admitting  his  crime,  he 
added  that  had  he  been  within  the  doors  of  the  cellar  at 
the  time  of  his  arrest,  he  would  have  blown  himself  up  and 
those  who  arrested  him  without  the  least  scruple.  From 
Whitehall  he  was  conveyed  to  the  Tower,  and  thence,  on 
the  31st  of  January,  1606,  to  Old  Palace  Yard,  Westminster, 
where  he  was  executed  with  three  of  his  associates. 

Six  months  afterwards — on  the  occasion  of  the  arrival  in 
England  of  the  Queen's  brother,  Christian  King  of  Denmark 
—we  find  the  Gunpowder  Plot  so  far  forgotten  that  White- 
hall became  again  the  scene  of  the  most  magnificent  pageants 
and  banquets.  "  I  will  now  in  good  sooth,"  writes  Sir  John 
Harrington,  "  declare  unto  you,  who  will  not  blab,  that  the 
gunpowder  fright  has  gone  out  of  all  our  heads,  and  we  are 
going  on  hereabouts  as  if  the  devil  was  contriving  every 
man  to  blow  up  himself  by  wild  riot,  excess,  and  devastation 
of  time  and  temperance."  In  the  "  Nugse  Antique  "  will  be 
found  a  very  entertaining  and  graphic  description  of  one  of 
the  entertainments  given  to  the  Danish  monarch. 

On  the  12th  of  June,  1610,  the  lamented  Prince  Henry 
was  created  Prince  of  Wales  at  Whitehall ;  the  event  being 
celebrated  by  a  succession  of  balls,  banquets,  and  pageants, 
which  lasted  three  days.  On  the  first  day  was  held  a  most 
magnificent  banquet ;  on  the  second  there  was  exhibited  "  a 
most  glorious  maske,"  which  continued  till  "  within  half  an 
hour  of  the  sun's  rising,"  and  on  the  third  day  were  a  grand 
"  tilting-match,  a  gallant  sea-fight,  and  many  rare  and  excel- 
lent fireworks,  which  were  seen  by  almost  a  million  of 
people." 

One  of  the  most  interesting  personages  whose  story  is 
associated  with  Whitehall  was  the  amiable  Elizabeth  Queen 


24  MARRIAGE  OF  PRINCESS  ELIZABETH. 

of  Bohemia,  daughter  of  James  the  First.  Here  she  passed 
her  happy  childhood,  and  here,  "  in  flower  of  youth  and 
beauty's  pride,"  she  was  affianced  to  her  future  husband, 

•Frederick  the  Fifth,  Count  Palatine  of  the  Rhine,  "  Cup- 
bearer "  of  the  empire,  and  afterwards  King  of  Bohemia. 
The  ceremony,  both  of  her  fiangailles  and  of  her  espousals, 
was  solemnized  with  as  great  an  outlay  of  wealth  as  has 

•perhaps  been  squandered  on  any  similar  ceremonial  either 
before  or  since.  The  expense  of  the  dresses  and  jewels 
lavished  on  the  ladies  who  attended  her  amounted  to  £3,914; 
the  fitting  up  of  her  bridal  chamber  cost  £3,023 ;  and  the 
expenses  of  the  fireworks  exhibited  in  the  gardens  of 
Whitehall  and  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  amounted  to 
£7,600.  The  total  expenditure  amounted  to  as  much  as 
£93,278. 

Elizabeth  was  affianced  to  the  Elector  Palatine,  on  the 
27th  of  December,  1612,  in  the  Banqueting  House  of  White- 
hall. The  Palsgrave,  as  he  was  then  styled,  clad  in  a  black 
velvet  cloak  adorned  with  gold  lace,  was  led  in  first,  attended 
by  Prince  Charles  and  several  of  the  nobility.  Then  followed 
the  Princess  in  a  black  velvet  gown,  "  seme'  of  crosslets,  or 

'quarterfoils,  silver,  and  a  small  feather  on  her  head,  attended 

:with  ladies."  Shortly  afterwards  entered  the  King,  who 
had  no  sooner  seated  himself  under  the  canopy  of  state,  than 
the  Palsgrave  and  the  Princess  stepped  forward,  and  stood 

•'  together  on  a  rich  Turkey  carpet.  Sir  Thomas  Lake  then 
formally  read  in  French,  from  the  book  of  Common  Prayer 
— "  I,  Frederick,  take  thee,  Elizabeth,  to  my  wedded  wife," 
which  words  having  been  repeated  by  the  Palsgrave  and 
the  Princess  verbatim,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  pro- 
nounced the  benediction.  The  marriage,  it  appears,  had 
previously  been  asked  by  the  publication  of  common  banns 
in  the  Chapel  Royal. 


MARRIAGE  OF  THE  EARL  OF  SOMERSET.         25 

The  marriage  ceremony  was  finally  performed  at  White- 
hall on  the  14th  of  February,  1614.  According  to  Sir  John 
Finett — the  master  of  the  ceremonies  on  this  occasion — 
"  The  bravery  and  riches  of  that  day  were  incomparable ; 
gold  and  silver,  laid  upon  lords',  ladies',  and  gentlewomen's 
backs,  was  the  poorest  burthen :  pearls  and  costly  embroi- 
deries being  the  commonest  wear."  The  jewels  worn  by 
the  royal  family  are  said  to  have  been  worth  nearly  a 
million  of  money.  According  also  to  common  report,  the 
dress  worn  by  the  Lady  Wotton  "  cost  fifty  pound  the  yard 
the  embroidering;"  while  Lord  Montague  presented  his  two 
daughters  with  fifteen  hundred  pounds  to  provide  themselves 
with  suitable  apparel.  With  the  exception  of  the  three 
Lord  Chief  Justices,  no  person  was  admitted  to  view  the 
ceremony  under  the  rank  of  a  Baron.* 

At  Whitehall  was  solemnized,  on  the  26th  of  December, 
1613,  the  marriage  of  Robert  Carr,  Earl  of  Somerset,  the 
unworthy  favourite  of  James  the  First,  with  Frances 
Howard,  the  beautiful  murderess  and  adulteress.  Notwith- 
standing her  previous  marriage  with  the  young  Earl  of 
Essex,  afterwards  the  celebrated  Parliamentary  General,  she 
had  the  effrontery  to  appear  at  the  altar  with  the  white 
dress  and  flowing  tresses  of  a  virgin.  The  marriage  cere- 
mony was  performed  by  the  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells  in 
the  presence  of  the  King  and  Queen  and  of  the  principal 
nobility.  "Whitehall,"  writes  Coke,  "was  too  narrow  to 
contain  the  triumphs  of  this  marriage,  and  they  must  be 
extended  into  the  city."  Notwithstanding  the  shameful 
notoriety  which  attached  to  the  amours  of  this  profligate 
couple,  the  City  of  London  was  subservient  enough  to  pan- 

*  For  an  account  of  the  espousals  of  the  Queen  of  Bohemia,  see  Win- 
wood's  "Memorials,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  421 ;  Coke,  vol.  i.,  p.  64;  Ellis's  "Orig. 
Letters,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  110  ;  and  "Finetti  Philoxenis,"  p.  11. 


26  THE  BANQUETING  HOUSE. 

der  to  the  wishes  of  the  court  by  celebrating  the  nuptials 
with  almost  as  much  parade  as  had  been  exhibited  in  the 
presence  of  peers  and  bishops  at  Whitehall.  On  the  4th  of 
January,  nine  days  after  the  marriage,  we  find  the  bride  and 
bridegroom,  attended  by  the  Duke  of  Lennox,  the  Lord 
Chamberlain,  and  a  numerous  train  of  the  nobility,  proceed- 
ing in  great  state  to  the  city,  where  a  magnificent  entertain- 
ment awaited  them  in  Merchant  Taylors'  Hall.  Music 
struck  up  joyously  as  they  entered;  the  Lord  Mayor  and 
Aldermen  received  them  in  their  scarlet  gowns ;  deputations 
from  the  twelve  companies  offered  them  their  congratula- 
tions ;  then  followed  plays,  masques,  and  dancing,  and  then 
a  second  banquet,  after  which,  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  the  favourite  and  his  beautiful  bride  returned  to 
their  nuptial  chamber  at  Whitehall.  And  yet,  within  a 
little  more  than  two  years,  these  two  envied  and  glittering 
beings  were  the  inmates  of  a  prison  !  Deprived  of  fortune, 
flattery,  and  the  pomp  of  circumstance,  they  were  not  only 
dragged  as  murderers  to  the  bar  of  a  criminal  tribunal,  but 
narrowly  escaped  suffering  by  the  hands  of  the  common 
executioner. 

The  present  Banqueting  House  was  built  in  this  reign. 
It  is  but  a  small  part  of  a  glorious  edifice  projected  by 
Inigo  Jones ;  but  still  it  is  sufficient  to  explain  to  us  how 
magnificent  would  have  been  the  entire  building,  of  which 
this  admired  relic  was  intended  to  be  but  an  insignificant 
portion.  The  designs  for  this  beautiful  pile  are  well  known. 
It  was  intended  to  have  extended  to  no  less  than  1150  feet  on 
the  banks  of  the  Thames,  and  to  the  same  distance  in  front  of 
the  present  street  of  Whitehall.  Moreover,  but  for  the  inter- 
vention of  the  civil  wars,  it  is  said  to  have  been  the  intention 
of  Charles  the  First  to  have  engaged  Vandyke  to  decorate  its 
walls  with  scenes  connected  with  the  history  of  the  Order 


THE  BA  NQ  UETING  HO  USE.  27 

of  the  Garter;  the  expense  of  which  was  computed  at 
£80,000.*  Such  a  building,  decorated  by  such  an  artist, 
would  indeed  have  been  the  glory  of  Europe.f  This  splen- 
did room — the  scene  of  the  drivelling  amusements  of  James 
the  First  and  of  the  magnificent  masques  of  Ben  Jonson — 
where  Charles  the  First  so  often  dined  in  state  with  Hen- 
rietta Maria. — where  Cromwell  entertained  a  puritanical 
parliament — and  where  Charles  the  Second  so  often  led  out 
a  fair  lady  to  dance  the  gay  "  Coranto," — is  now  converted 
into  a  chapel !  The  dais  on  which  the  second  Charles  so 
often  debauched  is  converted  into  an  altar,  and  a  pulpit 
hides  the  spot  from  which  his  unfortunate  father  passed  to 
the  scaffold  !  The  ceiling  of  the  Banqueting  House,  painted 
by  Rubens  at  the  cost  of  £3,000,  represents  in  nine  com- 
partments the  apotheosis  of  James  the  First.  In  the  centre 
is  conspicuous  the  form  of  the  English  Solomon  surrounded 
by  various  Pagan  deities  and  other  allegorical  figures,  con- 
sisting of  Mars,  Commerce,  and  the  Fine  Arts. 

On  the  accession  of  Charles  the  First,  the  Court  of  White- 
hall presented  such  a  union  of  taste,  magnificence,  and 
decorum,  as  well  as  such  a  treasury  of  all  that  is  exquisite  in 
sculpture  and  painting,  as  has  apparently  never  been  sur- 
passed by  any  Court  in  Europe.  "  During  the  prosperous 
state  of  the  King's  affairs,"  writes  Walpole,  "  the  pleasures  of 
the  Court  were  carried  on  with  much  taste  and  magnifi- 

*  Fenton's  "Waller,"  notes,  p.  37  ;  Walpole's  "Works,"  vol.  i.,  p.  235. 

t  It  is  curious  to  find  how  small  were  the  wages  of  the  great  artist,  Inigo 
Jones,  during  the  period  he  was  employed  in  the  renovation  of  Whitehall. 
His  allowance  was  only  Hs.  4d.  a  day  as  surveyor,  with  £4(>  a  year  for 
house-rent,  the  maintenance  of  a  clerk,  and  other  occasional  expenses.  The 
masonry  of  the  Banqueting  House  was  executed  by  Nicholas  Stone,  a 
famous  statuary  in  the  reign  of  James  the  First,  who  died  on  the  24th  of 
August,  1647.  There  is  a  print  of  him  in  the  "Anecdotes  of  Painting." 
Granger,  vol.  ii.,  p.  163.  His  allowance,  when  employed  at  Whitehall, 
was  "4*.  Wd.  the  day." 


28    WHITEHALL  IN  CHARLES  THE  FIRST'S  TIME. 

cence.  Poetry,  painting,  music,  and  architecture,  were  all 
called  in  to  make  them  rational  amusements ;  and  I  have 
no  doubt  but  the  celebrated  festivals  of  Louis  the  Four- 
teenth were  copied  from  the  shows  exhibited  at  Whitehall, 
in  its  time  the  most  polite  court  in  Europe.  Ben  Jonson 
was  the  laureat,  Inigo  Jones  the  inventor  of  the  decorations ; 
Laniere  and  Ferabosco  composed  the  symphonies ;  the  King, 
the  Queen,  and  the  young  nobility  danced  in  the  inter- 
ludes." To  the  names  mentioned  by  Walpole,  we  may  add 
those  of  Milton,  Fletcher,  Carew,  and  Selden.  The  "  Masque 
of  Comus,"  written  by  the  former,  and  the  beautiful  scenic 
decorations  and  contrivances  of  the  latter,  may  afford  some 
conception  of  the  rational  amusements  of  the  court  of  Charles. 
Even  Marshal  Bassompierre,  one  of  the  most  refined  and 
fastidious  men  in  Europe,  speaks  almost  enthusiastically  of 
the  elegant  and  dignified  character  of  the  Court  of  White- 
hall at  this  period.  Of  his  state  introduction  to  Charles 
and  Henrietta  Maria  he  writes — "  I  found  the  King  raised 
on  a  stage  two  steps,  the  Queen  and  he  on  two  chairs, 
who  rose  the  first  bow  I  made  them  on  coming  in.  The 
company  was  magnificent,  and  the  order  exquisite."  * 

The  magnificent  masques  which  were  represented  at 
Whitehall  under  the  auspices  of  Charles  will  be  remem- 
bered as  long  as  Milton,  Ben  Jonson,  Fletcher,  and  Inigo 
Jones  shall  continue  to  be  classic  names.  "  The  fullest 
account,"  writes  the  late  Mr.  Disraeli,  "  I  have  found  of  one 
of  these  entertainments — which  at  once  shew  the  curiosity 
of  the  scenical  machinery,  and  the  fancy  of  the  poet,  the 
richness  of  the  crimson  habits  of  the  gentlemen,  and  the 
white  dresses,  the  white  herons'  plumes  and  jewelled  head- 
dresses and  ropes  of  pearl  of  the  ladies — was  in  a  manu- 
.script  letter  of  the  time,  with  which  I  supplied  the  editor 
*  "  Embassy  to  England  "  in  1626. 


WHITEHALL  IN  CHARLES  THE  FIRST'S  TIME.    29 

of '  Jonson,'  who  has  preserved  the  narrative  in  his  'Memoirs ' 
of  that  poet."*  "Such  were  the  magnificent  entertain- 
ments," writes  Mr.  Gifford,  in  his  introduction  to  Massinger's 
Works,  "  which,  though  modern  refinement  may  affect  to 
despise  them,  modern  splendour  never  reached  even  in 
thought." 

Charles  the  First,  in  fact,  is  one  of  the  very  few  of  our 
monarchs  to  whom  the  arts  may  be  considered  as  under  an 
obligation.  The  price  of  pictures,  we  are  told,  rose  to  double 
their  value  in  his  reign,  in  consequence  of  the  competition 
between  Charles  and  Philip  the  Fourth  of  Spain,  another 
royal  collector.  Through  the  agency  of  Rubens,  the  cele- 
brated cartoons  of  Raffaelle  were  transferred  from  Flanders 
to  England ;  while,  at  the  cost  of  £18,000,  Charles  pur- 
chased the  entire  cabinet  of  the  Duke  of  Mantua,  con- 
sidered the  finest  in  Europe.  In  the  palace  of  Whitehall 
alone — and  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the  King  had 
eighteen  other  palacesf — were  twenty-eight  pictures  by 
Titian,  eleven  by  Correggio,  sixteen  by  Julio  Romano,  nine 
by  Raffaelle,  four  by  Guido,  and  seven  by  Parmegiano,  be- 
sides many  exquisite  works  by  Rubens  and  Vandyke.  To 
the  blind  zeal  of  a  puritanical  Parliament  we  owe  the  dis- 
persion of  this  glorious  collection.  Such  pictures  and 
statues  as  they  chose  to  style  superstitious  were  destroyed  ; 
the  rest  were  ordered  to  be  sold.  The  inventory,  which  was 
intrusted  to  the  most  ignorant  appraisers,  took  a  year  in 
drawing  up,  and  the  collection  three  years  in  selling.  Thus, 
to  the  disgrace  of  civilization,  were  dispersed,  mutilated,  or 
destroyed,  the  splendid  effects,  the  gems  and  antiquities,  the 

*  "Curiosities  of  Literature."  (       . 

1*  Granger  incidentally  mentions  the  number  of  the  King's  palaces  as 
twenty-four.  Including  the  old  Scottish  palaces  they  probably  may  have 
amounted  to  even  mdre  than  this  number. "".  .' 


30     WHITEHALL  IX  CHARLES  THE  FIRST'S  TIME. 

costly  statue  galleries,  the  unique  cabinet  of  Charles  the 
First,  the  delight  of  his  leisure  hours,  and  the  envy  of 
Europe  ! 

The  hospitality  practised  by  Charles  at  Whitehall  corre- 
sponded with  his  magnificent  patronage  of  the  arts.  "  There 
were  daily  in  his  court,"  we  are  told,  "  eighty-six  tables, 
well  furnished  each  meal;  whereof  the  King's  table  had 
twenty-eight  dishes;  the  Queen's  twenty-four;  four  other 
tables,  sixteen  dishes  each ;  three  other,  ten  dishes ;  twelve 
other,  seven  dishes ;  seventeen  other,  five  dishes ;  three 
other,  four ;  thirty-two  had  three ;  and  thirteen  had  each 
two;  in  all  about  five  hundred  dishes  each  meal,  with 
bread,  beer,  wine,  and  all  other  things  necessary.  There 
was  spent  yearly  in  the  King's  house,  of  gross  meat,  fifteen 
hundred  oxen ;  seven  thousand  sheep ;  twelve  hundred 
calves  ;  three  hundred  porkers  ;  four  hundred  young  beefs ; 
six  thousand  eight  hundred  lambs ;  three  hundred  flitches 
of  bacon,  and  twenty-six  boars.  Also  one  hundred  and 
forty  dozen  of  geese ;  two  hundred  and  fifty  dozen  of  capons ; 
four  hundred  and  seventy  dozen  of  hens  ;  seven  hundred  and 
fifty  dozen  of  pullets  ;  fourteen  hundred  and  seventy  dozen  of 
chickens ;  for  bread,  three  hundred  and  sixty-four  thousand 
bushels  of  wheat ;  and  for  drink,  six  hundred  tons  of  wine 
and  seventeen  hundred  tons  of  beer ;  together  with  fish  and 
fowl,  fruit  and  spice,  proportionably.  This  prodigious 
plenty  in  the  King's  court  caused  foreigners  to  put  a  higher 
value  upon  the  King,  and  was  much  for  the  honour  of  the 
kingdom.  The  King's  servants,  being  men  of  quality,  by 
his  Majesty's  special  order  went  to  Westminster  Hall  in 
term-time  to  invite  gentlemen  to  eat  of  the  King's  viands, 
and  in  Parliament-time  to  invite  the  Parliament  men 
thereto."* 

*  '^Present  State  of  London,"  1681. 


WHITEHALL  IN  CHARLES  THE  FIRSTS  TIME.    31 

It  was  to  Whitehall,  on  the  16th  of  June,  1625,  that 
Charles  conducted  his  young  and  beautiful  bride  after  the 
consummation  of  their  nuptials,  at  Canterbury.  And  as 
Whitehall  was  the  scene  of  his  bridal  pleasures,  so  did  it 
witness  the  last  agony  of  the  unfortunate  monarch.  It  was 
here,  in  the  last  days  of  his  life,  that  he  was  insulted  by 
the  brutal  soldiery ;  here  that  he  spent  so  many  melancholy 
hours  in  the  course  of  his  tedious  trial ;  and  lastly,  here  it 
was  that  he  passed  from  the  walls  of  his  own  Banqueting 
House  to  a  bloody  death. 

Pause  we  awhile  the  ensanguined  ground  to  tread, 

Where  fell  the  royal  martyr's  comely  head. 

By  all  the  Graces,  all  the  Arts,  bemoaned, 

With  him  exultant  and  with  him  dethroned, 

Here  flew  his  moments  of  domestic  bliss  ; 

Here  soared  his  hopes  to  higher  worlds  than  this, 

Here,  while  his  loved  ones  prattled  in  his  arms, 

Strayed  his  fond  glance  to  Henrietta's  charms, 

Here,  too,  were  sped  his  halcyon  days  of  power, 

His  bridal  rapture  and  his  social  hour, 

Here  broke  the  rabble  soldiers  on  his  rest, 

With  paltry  insult  and  the  ribald  jest. 

Behold  !  they  come  in  melancholy  state 

To  lead  the  crownless  monarch  to  his  fate. 

The  crowd  is  gathered,  and  the  axe  prepared, 

Fixed  is  the  block,  the  headsman's  arm  is  bared  ; 

Yet  'midst  the  terrors  of  that  piteous  scene, 

How  calm  his  aspect,  how  august  his  mien  ! 

For  his  the  Heaven-lit  hope,  the  wish  resigned, 

The  even  pulse,  the  unconquerable  mind ; 

The  blissful  visions  of  a  soul  forgiven, 

That  tastes  the  joys  of,  ere  it  mounts  to,  Heaven. — J.  H.  J. 

"  Every  night,"  writes  Hume,  "  the  King  slept  sound  as 
usual,  though  the  noise  of  workmen  employed  in  framing 
the  scaffold,  and  other  preparations  for  his  execution,  con- 
tinually resounded  in  his  ears."  Inasmuch,  however,  as  the 
last  night  of  Charles's  life  was  passed,  not  at  Whitehall,  but 


32  SCENE  OF  CHARLES  THE  FIRST'S  EXECUTION. 

at  St.  James's,  Hume's  description  is  more  graphic  than  true. 
From  St.  James's,  as  we  have  already  mentioned,  he  passed 
on  foot  through  St.  James's  Park  to  Whitehall,  where,  on  his 
arrival,  he  was  "  led  along  all  the  galleries  "  to  his  private 
sleeping  apartment,  apparently  overlooking  the  Thames. 
Here  he  was  engaged  at  his  devotions,  when  some  zealous 
members  of  the  Puritan  clergy  knocked  at  the  door  of  his 
apartment  and  offered  to  assist  him  in  preparing  for  his  fate. 
The  offer,  as  may  be  supposed,  was  declined.  They  had  so 
often  prayed  against  him,  said  Charles,  that  he  would  not 
have  them  pray  with  him  in  his  extremity.  He  added, 
however,  that  he  should  be  grateful  if  they  would  remember 
him  in  their  prayers.  Having  finished  his  devotions — 
"  Now,"  he  said,  "  let  the  rogues  come ;  I  have  forgiven  them, 
and  am  prepared  for  all  I  am  to  undergo."  On  Colonel 
Hacker  giving  the  final  signal  at  the  door  of  his  apartment, 
his  two  faithful  attendants,  Bishop  Juxon  and  Herbert,  fell 
on  their  knees  before  him  and  wept.  Charles  gave  them 
his  hand  to  kiss,  and  as  Juxon  was  an  old  man  he  kindly 
assisted  him  to  rise.  To  Colonel  Tomlinson,  a  republican 
officer,  who  had  shown  him  every  attention  consistent  with 
his  duty  to  his  employers,  he  presented  his  .gold  toothpick 
case,  and  requested  him  to  attend  him  to  the  last.  Then, 
desiring  that  the  door  might  be  opened,  and  telling  Hacker 
he  was  prepared  to  follow  him,  he  passed  with  a  cheerful 
countenance  through  an  avenue  of  guards  which  lined  the 
galleries  to  the  scaffold. 

Much  doubt  has  existed  in  regard  to  the  exact  spot  at 
Whitehall  on  which  Charles  was  beheaded.  "  The  King," 
says  Pennant,  "  was  conducted  from  his  bedchamber  along 
the  galleries  and  the  banqueting-house,  through  the  wall,  in 
which  a  passage  was  broken,  to  his  last  earthly  stage.  This 


SCENE  OF  CHARLES  THE  FIRSTS  EXECUTION.    33 

passage  still  remains,  at  the  north  end  of  the  room,  and  is 
at  present  the  door  to  a  small  additional  building  of  late 
date."  Mr.  Croker,  in  his  notes  to  Bassompierre's  Embassy 
to  England,  has  fallen  into  the  same  error.  "  It  is  generally 
supposed,"  he  says,  "  that  Charles  was  beheaded  on  a  scaf- 
fold erected  in  front  of  the  Banqueting  House.  This  is,  I 
believe,  a  mistake.  The  street  in  the  front  of  the  Banqueting 
House  did  not  then  exist"  Not  only,  however,  did  such 
a  street — running  under  Holbein's  famous  gateway — then 
exist,  but  it  was  then,  as  it  is  now,  the  only  direct  thorough- 
fare between  the  cities  of  London  and  Westminster.  More- 
over, not  only  does  every  ancient  print  of  the  King's  execu- 
tion represent  him  as  having  been  beheaded  in  front  of  the 
Banqueting  House,  and  not  at  the  end,  but  the  warrant  for 
the  execution  expressly  enjoins  that  the  execution  shall  take 
place  "in  the  open  street  before  'Whitehall"  The  fact  is, 
that  Charles,  agreeably  with  the  terms  of  the  warrant,  was 
executed  immediately  in  front  of  the  Banqueting  House,  the 
wall  of  which  was  broken  through  purposely  to  make  a  pas- 
sage for  him  to  the  scaffold.  The  words  of  Herbert,  who 
attended  his  unfortunate  master  in  his  last  moments,  are— 
"  The  King  was  led  along  all  the  galleries  and  Banqueting 
House,  and  there  was  a  passage  broken  through  the  wall,  by 
which  the  King  passed  unto  the  scaffold."  The  reason  for 
breaking  through  the  wall  seems  to  be  obvious.  Had 
Charles  passed  through  one  of  the  lower  windows,  the 
scaffold  must  necessarily  have  been  so  low  that  it  would 
have  been  on  a  level  with  the  heads  of  the  people,  a  circum- 
stance, for  many  evident  reasons,  to  be  carefully  avoided ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  had  he  passed  through  one  of 
the  upper  windows,  the  height  would  have  been  so  great 
that  no  one  could  have  witnessed  the  scene  except  those 
who  were  immediately  on  the  scaffold.  Without,  however, 

VOL.  II.  3 


34          EXECUTION  OF  CHARLES  THE  FIRST. 

continuing  the  digression,  it  is  perhaps  sufficient  to  observe, 
that  at  the  renovation  of  the  Banqueting  House,  many  years 
since,  a  fact  was  made  apparent,  which  we  imagine  will  be 
considered  as  setting  the  question  at  rest.  Having  curiosity 
enough  to  visit  the  interior  of  the  building, — the  walls  of 
which  were  then  laid  bare, — a  space  was  pointed  out  to  the 
writer,  between  the  upper  and  lower  centre  windows,  of 
about  seven  feet  in  height  and  four  in  breadth,  the  bricks  of 
which  presented  a  broken  and  jagged  appearance,  and  the 
brickwork  introduced  was  evidently  of  a  different  date  from 
that  of  the  rest  of  the  building.  There  can  be  little  doubt 
that  it  was  through  this  passage  that  Charles  walked  to  the 
fatal  stage.  Indeed,  when  we  consider  how  conclusive  is  the 
evidence  that  the  execution  took  place  in  front  of  the  Ban- 
queting House,  and  how  improbable  it  is  that  such  solid  and 
beautiful  masonry  should  have  been  broken  through  except 
for  some  very  extraordinary  purpose  indeed,  we  shall  per- 
haps be  pardoned  for  regarding  the  question  as  now  set  at  rest 
for  ever. 

The  King  passed  to  the  fatal  scaffold  with  a  cheerful 
countenance  and  with  a  firm  undaunted  step.  In  the  words 
of  Andrew  Marvell,  who  differed  widely  from  him  in  all 
religious  and  political  opinions, — 

' '  While  round  the  armed  bands 
Did  clasp  their  bloody  hands, 
He  nothing  common  did  or  mean, 
After  that  memorable  scene  ; 
But  with  his  keener  eye 
The  axe's  edge  did  try  ; 
Nor  called  the  gods,  with  vulgar  spite, 
To  vindicate  his  helpless  right ; 
But  bowed  his  comely  head 
Down,  as  upon  a  bed." 

Charles  was  attended  to  the  scaffold  by  Bishop  Juxon 


EXECUTION  OF  CHARLES  THE  FIRST.  35 

and  by  two  of  the  gentlemen  of  his  bedchamber,  Harring- 
ton and  Herbert.  The  stage  was  covered  with  black  cloth. 
In  the  centre  of  it  lay  the  block,  with  the  axe  resting  on  it, 
and,  close  by,  the  King's  coffin  lined  with  black  velvet.  The 
scaffold  was  surrounded  by  a  large  body  of  soldiers,  both 
foot  and  horse,  behind  whom  were  massed  a  vast  multitude 
of  human  beings  who  came  to  witness  the  memorable  scene. 
To  the  last  Charles  appeared  cheerful,  resigned,  and  even 
happy.  Having  put  on  a  satin  cap,  he  inquired  of  one  of 
the  two  executioners,  who  were  in  masks,  if  his  hair  was 
in  the  way.  The  men  requested  him  to  push  it  under  his 
cap.  As  he  was  doing  so,  with  the  assistance  of  the  Bishop 
and  of  the  executioner,  he  turned  to  the  former  and  said — 
"I  have  a  good  cause  and  a  gracious  God  on  my  side." 
"  There  is  but  one  stage  more,"  replied  the  Bishop ;  "  it  will 
carry  you  from  earth  to  heaven ;  and  there  you  will  find  a 
great  deal  of  cordial  joy  and  comfort."  "I  go,"  responded 
the  King,  "  from  a  corruptible  to  an  incorruptible  crown, 
where  no  disturbance  can  be,  no  disturbance  in  the  world." 
Then  again  inquiring  of  the  executioner — "Is  my  hair 
well  ?"  he  took  off  his  cloak  and  George,  and  delivering  the 
latter  to  the  Bishop,  exclaimed,  with  a  marked  emphasis — 
"  Remember  !"  To  the  executioner  he  said — "  I  shall  say 

but  short  prayers,  and  when  I  thrust  out  my  hands ." 

Looking  at  the  block,  he  said — "  You  must  set  it  fast."  The 
executioner  replied  that  it  was  fast.  The  King  remarked 
that  it  might  have  been  higher.  Being  told  that  it  could 
not  have  been  higher,  he  said — "  When  I  put  out  my  hands 

this  way ."     In  the  mean  time,  having  divested  himself 

of  his  doublet,  he  again  put  on  his  cloak.  Then,  lifting  up 
his  hands  and  eyes  to  heaven,  and  repeating  a  few  words 
which  were  inaudible  to  the  bystanders,  he  knelt  down  and 
laid  his  head  upon  the  block.  The  executioner  stooping  to 

3—2 


36          INSTALLATION  OF  OLIVER  CROMWELL. 

put  his  hair  under  his  cap,  the  King,  thinking  he  was  about 
to  strike,  bid  him  wait  for  the  sign.  After  a  short  pause  he 
stretched  out  his  hand,  when  the  executioner  at  one  blow 
severed  his  head  from  his  body.  The  head  was  immediately 
lifted  up  by  the  other  headsman  and  exhibited  to  the  people. 
"  Behold,"  he  exclaimed,  "  the  head  of  a  traitor."  The  dis- 
mal and  almost  universal  groan  which  burst  forth  at  that 
moment  from  the  dense  population  around,  was  never  for- 
gotten by  those  who  heard  it.  The  multitude,  however,, 
were  allowed  but  a  short  interval  for  reflecting  on  the  scene 
they  had  witnessed.  Almost  immediately  two  parties  of 
cavalry,  one  riding  rapidly  from  Charing  Cross  to  King 
Street,  and  the  other  from  King  Street  to  Charing  Cross, 
dispersed  the  people.  Within  a  few  minutes,  with  the 
exception  of  the  scaffold  and  its  bloody  paraphernalia, 
Whitehall  presented  but  the  ordinary  appearance  of  every 
day. 

On  the  16th  of  December,  1653,  Oliver  Cromwell  was 
solemnly  installed  Lord  Protector  of  the  Commonwealth  of 
England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland.  He  occupied  at  this  period 
apartments  in  the  Cock-pit,  on  the  site  of  the  present 
Treasury,  whence,  after  a  "  seeking  of  the  Lord,"  he  pro- 
ceeded— surrounded  by  his  body-guard,  and  preceded  by 
the  Barons  of  the  Exchequer,  the  Judges  in  their  robes,  and 
the  Lord  Mayor,  Aldermen,  and  Recorder,  in  their  scarlet 
gowns — to  Westminster  Hall,  where  the  ceremony  of 
Installation  was  performed  with  great  magnificence.  On 
the  return  of  the  procession,  those  who  had  taken  a  part 
in  it  again  assembled  in  the  Banqueting  House,  whence, 
after  an  exhortation  by  Nicholas  Lockyer — Cromwell's 
Puritan  chaplain,  afterwards  Provost  of  Eton — they  dispersed 
to  their  respective  homes. 

On  the  14th  of  April,  1654,  Cromwell  formally  took  up 


ENTERTAINMENTS  OF  OLIVER  CROMWELL.       37 

his  abode  in  the  regal  palace  of  the  Stuarts,  apparently  in 
the  same  apartments  which  had  been  occupied  by  the  ill- 
fated  Charles.  In  the  public  journals  of  the  day  there 
occur  more  than  one  notice  of  the  removal  of  the  Protector 
and  his  family  to  the  stately  apartments  of  Whitehall. 
"  April  14,  1653.  His  Highness  the  Lord  Protector,  with 
his  lady  and  family,  this  day  dined  at  Whitehall,  whither 
his  Highness  and  family  are  removed,  and  did  this  night  lie 
there,  and  do  there  continue."  And  again  in  the  "  Weekly 
Intelligencer." — "  The  Privy  Lodgings  for  His  Highness,  the 
Lord  Protector,  in  Whitehall,  are  now  in  readiness,  as  also 
the  lodgings  for  his  Lady  Protectress ;  and  likewise  the 
Privy  kitchen,  and  other  kitchens,  butteries,  and  offices ; 
and  it  is  conceived  the  whole  family  will  be  settled  there 
before  Easter.  The  tables  for  diet  prepared  are  these : — 

A  table  for  his  Highness.  A  table  for  the  gentlemen. 

A  table  for  the  Protectress.  A  table  for  coachmen,  grooms, 
A  table  for  chaplains  and  strangers.  and  other  domestic  servants. 

A  table  for  the  steward  and  gentle-  A  table  for  inferiors,  or  sub-ser- 
men.  vants.  * 

A  few  days  afterwards  we  find  the  Protector  giving  a 
sumptuous  entertainment  at  his  new  abode.  "April  27, 
1654 : — The  Lords  Ambassadors  of  the  United  Provinces 
this  day  dined  with  his  Highness  the  Lord  Protector,  at 
Whitehall,  and  the  Lords  of  the  Council,  with  some  Colonels 
and  other  gentlemen,  at  two  tables  in  the  same  room ;  and 
the  Lords  Ambassadors,  the  Lord  President,  and  the  Lord 
Lisle,  at  the  same  table  with  his  Highness;  and  twenty 
gentlemen  were  taken  into  his  Higlmess's  life-guard  of  foot, 
who  carried  up  the  meat,  and  many  gentlemen  attended ; 
and  after  dinner  there  was  a  banquet.  The  coats  of  the 

*  "  Weekly  Intelligencer,"  March  14th  to  21st,  1654. 


38  HOSPITALITY  OF  OLIVER  CROMWELL. 

guards  are  grey  cloth,  with  black  velvet  collars,  and  silver 
trace  and  trimming."* 

Notwithstanding  his  Puritan  principles,  Cromwell  showed 
but  little  disinclination  to  surround  himself  with  the  trap- 
pings of  monarchy  and  the  paraphernalia  of  a  court.  Sir 
Gilbert  Pickering  was  appointed  his  Lord  Chamberlain,  and 
his  son-in-law,  Claypole,  Master  of  the  Horse.  His  pro- 
cessions were  attended  by  heralds  and  pursuivants-at-arms, 
while,  at  his  second  installation  in  Westminster  Hall,  we 
find  his  former  simple  dress  of  black  velvet  exchanged  for 
robes  of  purple  lined  with  ermine.  Evelyn,  who  visited 
Whitehall  in  1656,  observes — "  I  ventured  to  go  to  White- 
hall, where  of  many  years  I  had  not  been,  and  found  it  very 
glorious  and  well  furnished." 

The  Protector's  hospitality  was  profuse  and  generous. 
Every  Monday  he  kept  an  open  table  for  all  the  officers  of 
his  army  who  had  attained  the  rank  of  captain,  besides  a 
smaller  table,  every  day  of  the  week,  for  such  officers  as 
came  accidentally  to  court.  "  With  these,"  writes  Heath, 
"  he  seemed  to  disport  himself,  taking  off  his  drink  freely, 
and  opening  himself  every  way  to  the  most  free  familiarity." 
More  than  once  in  the  Banqueting  House  at  Whitehall — 
beneath  that  famous  roof  which  had  witnessed  alike  the 
refined  amusements  of  Charles  and  his  latest  agony — we 
find  him  entertaining,  in  a  body,  the  Commons  of  England, 
many  of  whom,  like  himself,  had  set  their  signatures  to  the 
death-warrant  of  their  royal  master.  Heath  mentions  the 
Parliament  being  "  gaudily  entertained"  by  the  Protector  in 
the  Banqueting  House  in  1656,  having  previously  attended 
a  sermon  in  St.  Margaret's  Church,  Westminster;  while 
Burton  more  than  once  records  liberal  entertainments. 

It  was  at  Whitehall,  on  the  6th  of  April,  1657,  that  Crom- 
*  "  Select  Proceedings  in  State  Affairs,"  April  27th  to  May  4th,  1654. 


DEATH  OF  OLIVER  CROMWELL.  39 

well  refused  the  crown  of  Great  Britain  when  formally  ten- 
dered to  him  by  the  assembled  Commons  of  the  realm.  Here 
also,  on  the  3rd  of  September,  the  following  year — on  the 
anniversary  of  his  great  victories  of  Worcester  and  Dunbar, 
and  on  the  day  which  he  had  always  regarded  as  the 
luckiest  of  his  life — the  mighty  usurper  breathed  his  last. 
The  fearful  tempest  which  howled  around  his  death-bed 
was  listened  to  with  superstitious  awe  by  those  who  were 
aware  of  his  extremity.  Ships  were  dashed  against  the 
shore ;  houses  were  swept  from  their  foundations ;  trees  were 
uprooted  in  vast  numbers,  and  especially  those  in  St.  James's 
Park,  almost  under  the  windows  where  the  Protector  lay 
expiring. 

That  Cromwell  died  imbued  with  the  religious  enthusiasm 
which  he  had  professed  in  his  lifetime  there  seems  to  be 
little  doubt.  So  confident  was  he  of  being  received  among 
the  saints  in  Heaven,  that,  to  use  the  harsh  words  of  Hume, 
"  he  assumed  more  the  character  of  a  mediator  interceding 
for  his  people,  than  that  of  a  criminal  whose  atrocious  viola- 
tion of  social  duty  had,  from  every  tribunal,  human  and 
divine,  merited  the  severest  vengeance."  If,  at  times,  any 
doubt  was  entertained  by  him  as  to  the  real  state  of  his 
soul,  it  seems  to  have  been  relieved  by  the  assurances  of  the 
fanatical  preachers  who  attended  him.  Of  Godwin,  a  popular 
divine,  he  once  inquired  earnestly,  whether  a  person  who 
had  been  in  a  state  of  grace  could  again  fall  from  it, 
and  suffer  the  reprobation  awarded  to  the  damned.  On 
being  assured  that  such  was  impossible,  "  Then  am  I  safe," 
he  exclaimed,  "  for  I  am  sure  that  once  I  was  in  a  state  of 
grace." 

During  the  brief  Protectorship  of  Richard  Cromwell  he 
made  the  palace  of  Whitehall  his  residence.  Of  his  strange 
fortunes  it  is  sufficient  here  to  mention  that  for  some  time 


40  WHITEHALL  AT  THE  RESTORATION. 

before  he  had  ceased  to  be  Protector,  his  creditors  had  not 
only  become  pressing,  but  even  insolent.  According  to 
Heath,  scarcely  a  day  or  two  had  elapsed  after  he  had 
resigned  the  Protectorship  before  Whitehall  was  besieged 
by  half  the  bailiffs  of  Westminster,  who  came  actually 
armed  with  writs  against  the  unfortunate  Richard. 

At  the  Eestoration  of  Charles  the  Second  Whitehall  pre- 
sented a  very  different  appearance  to  what  it  had  worn 
under  what  Voltaire  styles  la  sombre  administration  de 
Cromwell.  Never,  perhaps,  in  the  social  history  of  any 
country,  has  there  been  effected  so  sudden  a  revolution  in 
morals  and  fashion  as  the  change  from  the  black  doublets 
and  austere  bearing  of  the  Puritans,  to  the  flaunting  cox- 
combry and  open  and  unblushing  profligacy  which  were 
among  the  immediate  characteristics  of  the  accession  of  the 
second  Charles.  In  the  same  apartments  in  which  a  few 
months  previously  had  been  held  solemn  "  exhortations " 
and  "  seekings  of  the  Lord,"  we  find  such  scenes  as  Buck- 
ingham building  houses  of  cards  to  amuse  la  belle  Stuart, 
and  Rochester  slipping  indecent  lampoons  into  the  pockets 
of  his  good-humoured  sovereign.  We  have  only  to  glance 
from  the  "  Parliamentary  Diary  "  of  Burton  and  the  public 
journals  under  the  rule  of  Cromwell  to  the  gossiping  pages 
of  Pepys  and  Count  Hamilton,  and  the  change  will  be  readily 
comprehended.  At  all  events,  whether  for  better  or  worse, 
Whitehall  at  the  Restoration  wore  a  very  different  appear- 
ance to  what  it  had  presented  in  the  days  of  the  Protec- 
torate. In  lieu  of  the  Protector's  chaplains,  with  their  rueful 
faces  and  Geneva  frills,  and  sanctified  members  of  Parlia- 
ment in  long  cloaks  and  steeple-crowned  hats,  again  its 
courts  swarmed  with  yeomen  of  the  guard  in  bright  cos- 
tumes and  pages  in  silken  attire.  Once  more  gallant  cava- 
liers and  fair  ladies,  with  flowing  tresses  and  scarlet  plumes, 


WHITEHALL  AT  THE  RESTORATION.  41 

were  to  be  seen  riding  laughingly  forth  from  under  its  heavy 
portals.  Again  the  love-song  was  to  be  heard  by  moonlight 
in  the  shady  labyrinths  of  its  Privy  Gardens,  and  again  the 
dance  took  place  in  its  lighted  galleries;  the  while  the 
"  merry  monarch "  sauntered  among  his  witty  courtiers,  or 
toyed  with  his  languishing  mistress,  as  gay,  as  thoughtless, 
and  as  unconcerned  as  if  the  blood  of  his  father  had  never 
dimmed  the  a.xe  of  the  executioner  within  a  few  yards  of 
him,  or  as  if  he  himself  had  never  been  a  wanderer  on  the 
face  of  the  earth. 

.  Yet  wake  once  more  the  revel  and  the  song  ; 
Relight  the  halls  for  Pleasure's  thoughtless  throng  ! 
Refill  the  bowl  to  Beauty's  sparkling  eyes  ! 
"  Live  while  we  live  !"  the  Merry  Monarch  cries. 
Lo  !  at  the  word  delicious  music  falls  ; 
And  flash  the  lamps  upon  the  mirrored  walls. 
How  sweet  the  odours  and  how  rich  the  rooms 
With  dazzling  jewels  and  with  waving  plumes  ! 
While  names  that  shine  in  History's  page  we  trace, 
Hyde's  scornful  frown,  and  Monmouth's  angel-face  ; 
Portsmouth's  dark  eye,  and  Cleveland's  haughty  charms, 
That  lured  a  monarch  to  their  snowy  arms. 
There  shines  the  Star  on  graceful  Villiers'  breast ; 
There  the  grouped  courtiers  laugh  at  Wilmot's  jest. 
There  glittering  piles  of  thriftless  gold  entice 
The  wealthy  dupe  to  cast  the  dangerous  dice, 
There  floats  young  Beauty  through  the  wanton  dance, 
With  love  becalmed  in  every  languid  glance  ; 
While  the  soft  love-song  to  some  few  apart 
Steals  with  voluptuous  sweetness  o'er  the  heart. 
Midst  these  the  monarch  glides  from  fair  to  fair, 
Hints  the  light  wishes,  or  breathes  a  bolder  prayer. 
But  lo  !  the  song  is  hushed,  the  guests  are  fled  ; 
The  monarch  lies  upon  his  funeral  bed. 
Behold  how  black  the  vault's  contrasted  gloom  ! 
There  are  no  Lords-in- Waiting  in  the  tomb. 
All  whom  his  greatness  raised,  his  witcheries  won, 
Are  gone  to  supplicate  the  rising  sun. 
Of  all  who  knelt  to  him,  cringed,  pandered,  sued, 
Folly's  vain  swarm,  and  Flattery's  hollow  brood, 


42        RESTORATION  OF  CHARLES  THE  SECOND. 

One,  one  alone,  within  her  widowed  power, 

Is  left  to  sorrow  o'er  their  parting  hour  ; 

The  one  true  friend  who  smoothed  his  closing  scene 

His  slighted  spouse,  his  own  discarded  Queen. — J.  H.  J. 

The  return  of  Charles  the  Second  to  Whitehall  took  place 
on  the  29th  of  May,  1660,  the  day  on  which  he  completed 
his  thirtieth  year.  In  St.  George's  Fields,  Southwark,  he 
had  been  met  by  the  Lord  Mayor  and  aldermen  in  their 
scarlet  gowns,  by  whom  he  was  conducted  under  a  rich 
canopy,  where  he  was  regaled  with  a  magnificent  banquet. 
From  Southwark  to  Whitehall,  the  streets  through  which  he 
passed  were  hung  on  each  side  with  tapestry;  bands  of 
music  were  stationed  at  appointed  places;  the  train-bands 
of  the  City,  in  rich  dresses,  lined  the  way,  and  the  conduits 
flowed  with  excellent  wine.  When  at  length  he  entered 
the  palace  of  his  ancestors,  it  was  amidst  the  roar  of  cannon 
and  the  acclamations  of  thousands.  After  dark,  the  ^sky 
was  illumined  with  bonfires  and  fireworks,  and  the  people 
regaled  with  a  profusion  of  wine  and  food.  At  a  late  hour 
Charles  stole  from  Whitehall  to  the  house  of  Sir  Samuel 
Morland  at  Lambeth,  where  he  passed  the  first  night  of  his. 
almost  miraculous  restoration  with  Mrs.  Palmer,  afterwards 
the  celebrated  Duchess  of  Cleveland. 

In  the  pages  of  Pepys  and  De  Grammont  will  be  found 
many  amusing  particulars  connected  with  the  history  of 
Whitehall  in  the  days  of  the  "  merry  monarch."  Pepys,  in 
particular,  has  bequeathed  us  a  very  graphic  account  of  a 
Court  entertainment  which  he  witnessed  in  the  old  palace. 
"  The  room,"  he  writes,  "  where  the  ball  was  to  be,  was 
crammed  with  fine  ladies,  the  greatest  of  the  Court.  By- 
and-by  comes  the  King  and  Queen,  the  Duke  and  Duchess 
[of  York],  and  all  the  great  ones  :  and,  after  seating  them- 
selves, the  King  takes  out  the  Duchess  of  York ;  and  the 
Duke,  the  Duchess  of  Buckingham ;  the  Duke  of  Monmouth, 


CHARLES  THE  SECOND'S  MISTRESSES.  43 

my  Lady  Castlemaine,  and  so  other  lords,  other  ladies  ;  and 
they  danced  a  brantle.  After  that,  the  King  led  a  lady  a 
single  coranto;  and  then  the  rest  of  the  lords,  one  after 
another,  other  ladies  :  very  noble  it  was,  and  great  pleasure 
to  see.  Then  to  country-dances  ;  the  King  leading  the  first, 
which  he  called  for ;  which  was,  says  he — '  Cuckolds  all 
awry ' — the  old  dance  of  England.  Of  the  ladies  that  danced, 
the  Duke  of  Monmouth's  mistress,  and  my  Lady  Castle- 
maine, and  a  daughter  of  Sir  Harry  de  Vic's  were  the  best. 
The  manner  was — when  the  King  dances,  all  the  ladies  in 
the  room,  and  the  Queen  herself,  stand  up ;  and  indeed 
he  dances  rarely,  and  much  better  than  the  Duke  of 
York." 

From  the  pen  of  the  same  amusing  writer  we  have  a 
charming  description  of  the  return  to  Whitehall  of  a  gay 
equestrian  party,  consisting  of  Charles,  his  Queen,  la  belle 
Stuart,  afterwards  Duchess  of  Richmond,  and  other  cour- 
tiers. "  I  followed  them,"  writes  Pepys,  "  up  into  Whitehall, 
and  into  the  Queen's  presence,  where  all  the  ladies  walked, 
talking  and  fiddling  with  their  hats  and  feathers,  and 
changing  and  trying  one  another's  by  one  another's  heads, 
and  laughing.  But  it  was  the  finest  sight  to  me,  consider- 
ing their  great  beauty  and  dress,  that  ever  I  did  see  in 
all  my  life.  But,  above  all,  Miss  Stuart,  in  this  dress,  with 
her  hat  cocked  and  a  red  plume,  with  her  sweet  eye,  little 
Roman  nose,  and  excellent  taille,  is  now  the  greatest  beauty 
I  ever  saw,  I  think,  in  my  life."  On  horseback,  Miss  Stuart 
is  said  to  have  looked  exquisitely  beautiful ;  indeed,  it  was 
this  charm  which  captivated  George  Hamilton,  when  he 
presented  her  with  his  heart  and  one  of  "  the  prettiest  horses 
in  England." 

Such  charms  as  those  of  la  belle  Stuart  could  scarcely  fail 
to  captivate  the  amorous  monarch.  "  The  King,"  writes 


44  MISS  STUART. 


Pepys  in  1663,  "is  now  besotted  with  Miss  Stuart,  getting 
her  into  corners;  and  will  be  with  her  half  an  hour  together, 
kissing  her,  to  the  observation  of  all  the  world ;  and  she  now 
stays  by  herself,  and  expects  it,  as  my  Lady  Castlemaine 
did  use  to  do."  The  feeling  of  Charles  for  Miss  Stuart 
seems  to  have  approached  nearer  to  what  may  be  termed 
love  than  any  other  of  his  libertine  attachments.  Miss 
Stuart,  however,  had  sense  enough  to  prefer  a  substantial 
match  to  a  splendid  intrigue,  and  accordingly  she  readily 
listened  to  an  offer  of  marriage  which  she  received  from 
Charles  Stuart,  fourth  Duke  of  Richmond.  The  remaining 
scenes  of  the  drama  are  laid  at  Whitehall.  The  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,  it  seems,  furious  at  seeing  her  influence  over 
her  royal  lover  eclipsed  by  a  younger  rival,  determined  to 
enlighten  Charles  as  to  the  inconstancy  of  his  new  mistress. 
Accordingly,  one  night,  in  the  course  of  a  stormy  interview, 
the  Duchess  bitterly  taunted  him  with  being  the  dupe  of  his 
rival,  and  the  laughing-stock  of  the  Court, — "  Miss  Stuart," 
she  said  jeeringly,  "  had  doubtless  dismissed  him  from  her 
apartment  on  the  ground  of  affected  indisposition  or  some 
pretended  scruples  of  delicacy ;  but,  she  added,  he  had  only 
to  return  to  her  chamber,  and  he  would  find  his  happy 
rival,  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  occupying  his  place."  While 
Charles  was  hesitating  how  to  act,  the  Duchess  took  him  by 
the  hand,  and  led  him  towards  the  spot.  "  Miss  Stuart's 
chamber,"  writes  De  Grammont,  "  was  in  the  middle  of  a 
little  gallery,  which  led  through  a  private  door  from  the 
King's  apartments  to  those  of  his  mistresses.  The  Duchess 
of  Cleveland  wished  him  good  night  as  he  entered  her  rival's 
chamber,  and  retired  in  order  to  wait  the  issue  of  the  adven- 
ture." The  King,  it  appears,  had  his  hand  almost  on  the 
•door-handle,  when  he  was  obstructed  by  Miss  Stuart's  wait- 
ing-maid, who  attempted  to  oppose  his  entrance,  telling  him 


MISS  STUART.  45 


her  mistress  had  been  ill,  and  had  only  just  fallen  asleep. 
Charles,  however,  insisted  on  forcing  his  way  into  the  apart- 
ment. "  He  found  Miss  Stuart  in  bed,"  continues  De  Gram- 
mont,  "  but  far  from  being  asleep.  The  Duke  of  Richmond 
was  seated  at  her  pillow,  and  in  all  probability  was  less 
inclined  to  sleep  than  herself.  The"  confusion  of  the  one 
party  and  the  rage  of  the  other  were  such  as  may  be  easily 
imagined  on  such  an  occasion.  The  King,  who  of  all  men 
was  the  most  mild  and  gentle,  expressed  his  resentment  to 
the  Duke  of  Richmond  in  such  terms  as  he  had  never  before 
made  use  of.  The  Duke  was  speechless  and  almost  petrified. 
He  saw  his  master  and  his  King  justly  irritated.  The  first 
transports  which  rage  inspires  on  such  occasions  are  dan- 
gerous. Miss  Stuart's  window  was  very  convenient  for  a 
sudden  revenge  ;  the  Thames  flowing  close  beneath  it.  He 
cast  his  eyes  upon  it,  and  seeing  those  of  the  King  more 
inflamed  with  indignation  than  he  thought  his  nature  capa- 
ble of,  he  made  a  profound  bow,  and  retired  without  replying 
a  single  word  to  the  torrent  of  reproaches  and  menaces  that 
were  poured  upon  him."  The  Duke,  as  may  be  readily 
supposed,  retired  from  Court,  but  it  was  only  to  return 
privately  a  short  time  afterwards,  and  carry  off  his  beautiful 
prize.  It  was  on  a  stormy  night  in  March,  16G7,  that  Miss 
Stuart  contrived  to  elope  from  her  apartments  at  Whitehall. 
Having  joined  the  Duke  at  a  small  inn  in  Westminster, 
they  fled  together  on  horseback  into  Surrey,  where  they  were 
married  the  following  morning  by  the  Duke's  chaplain. 
According  to  Bishop  Burnet,  nothing  could  exceed  the 
violence  of  the  King's  rage  on  hearing  of  his  mistress's 
flight.  Within  twelvemonths,  however,  the  good-humoured 
monarch  not  only  became  reconciled  to  her  as  well  as 
her  husband,  but  he  was  once  so  intoxicated  at  a  party 
at  Lord  Townshend's,  as  to  boast  to  the  Duke  of  Rich- 


46  THE  DUCHESS  OF  PORTSMOUTH. 

mond  of  the  favours  which  the  Duchess  had  conferred  on 
him. 

It  was  through  the  "  little  gallery  "  which  we  have  men- 
tioned as  leading  by  a  "  private  door "  from  the  King's 
apartments  to  those  of  the  ladies  of  the  palace  that  Charles 
was  one  day  passing,  when  he  heard  the  voice  of  Miss 
Howard  singing  a  popular  satirical  song,  in  which  his  fami- 
liar sobriquet  of  "  Old  Rowley  "  was  not  very  reverentially 
introduced.  After  satisfying  his  curiosity,  he  mischievously 
tapped  at  the  door  of  her  apartment.  Miss  Howard  inquired 
who  was  there. — "  Only  Old  Rowley,"  was  his  good-humoured 
reply. 

According  to  Evelyn,  the  apartments  of  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth — another  mistress  of  Charles's — at  Whitehall  had 
ten  times  the  "  richness  and  glory "  of  the  Queen's.  A 
morning  visit  paid  by  the  philosopher  to  them  in  1683,  in 
company  with  the  King,  is  amusingly  described  in  his 
"  Diary."  "  Following  his  Majesty,"  he  writes,  "  through 
the  gallery,  I  went  with  the  few  who  attended  him  into  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth's  dressing-room  within  her  bed- 
chamber, where  she  was  in  her  morning  loose  garment,  her 
maids  combing  her,  newly  out  of  bed,  his  Majesty  and  the 
gallants  standing  about  her.  But  that  which  engaged  my 
curiosity  was  the  rich  and  splendid  furniture  of  this  woman's 
apartments,  now  twice  or  thrice  pulled  down  and  rebuilt  to 
satisfy  her  prodigal  and  expensive  pleasures,  while  her 
Majesty's  does  not  exceed  some  gentlemen's  wives  in  furni- 
ture and  accommodation.  Here  I  saw  the  new  fabric  of 
French  tapestry ;  for  design,  tenderness  of  work,  and  in- 
comparable imitation  of  the  best  paintings,  beyond  any- 
thing I  had  ever  beheld.  Then,  for  Japan  cabinets,  screens, 
pendule  clocks,  great  vases  of  wrought  plate,  table,  stands, 
chimney  furniture,  sconces,  branches,  braseras,  £c.,  all  of 


NELL  GWYNN.  47 


massive  silver  and  out  of  number,  besides  some  of  his  Majesty's 
best  paintings. 

According  to  Pennant,  Nell  Gwynn,  "not  having  the 
honour  to  be  on  the  Queen's  establishment,"  had  no  apart- 
ments at  Whitehall.  This,  however,  I  presume  to  be  a 
double  error.  That  Nell  Gwynn,  strange  as  it  may  appear, 
was  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  Privy  Chamber  to  Catherine  of 
Braganza  is  proved  beyond  a  doubt  by  the  books  in  the 
Lord  Chamberlain's  office;*  while  the  fact  of  her  having 
had  apartments  at  Whitehall  in  her  official  capacity  appears 
to  be  no  less  certain.  Anthony  Wood,  for  instance,  speak- 
ing of  the  King's  convivial  parties,  observes — "They  met 
either  in  the  lodgings  of  Louisa,  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  or 
in  those  of  Chiffinch,  near  the  back  stairs,  or  in  the  apart- 
ment of  Eleanor  •  Gwynn,  or  that  of  Baptist  May ;  but  he 
losing  his  credit,  Chiffinch  had  the  greatest  trust  amongst 
them."  Occasionally  these  agreeable  supper-parties  took 
place  in  the  apartment  of  Miss  Kirk,  one  of  the  maids  of 
honour  to  the  Queen.  The  company  seems  to  have  gene- 
rally consisted  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  Lord  Taaffe,  Miss 
Stuart,  the  Count  de  Grammont,  and,  for  the  sake  of  appear- 
ances, the  governess  of  the  maids  of  honour. 

In  the  days  of  Charles  the  Second  the  old  palace  of 
Whitehall  was  of  vast  size  and  magnificence.  "  It  extended," 
writes  Pennant,  "  along  the  river,  and  in  front  along  the 
present  Parliament  and  Whitehall  Street,  as  far  as  Scotland 
Yard,  and  on  the  other  side  of  those  streets  to  the  turning 
into  Spring  Gardens  beyond  the  Admiralty,  looking  into  St. 
James's  Park.  The  merry  King,  his  Queen,  his  royal  bro- 
ther, Prince  Rupert,  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  and  all  the 
great  officers,  and  all  the  courtly  train,  had  their  lodgings 
within  these  walls ;  and  all  the  royal  family  had  their  dif- 
*  She  was  sworn  into  the  post  in  1G75.  See  Pegge's  "  Curialia,"  p.  68. 


48  OLD  PALACE  OF  WHITEHALL. 

ferent  offices,  such  as  kitchens,  cellars,  pantries,  spiceries, 
cyder-house,  bake-house,  wash-yards,  coal-yards,  and  slaugh- 
ter-houses." The  source  from  which  Pennant  drew  this 
sketch  of  the  old  palace  is  from  the  interesting  plan  taken 
by  John  Fisher  not  long  after  the  Restoration  of  Charles 
the  Second,  and  engraved  by  Vertue.  This  plan  is  not  a 
little  interesting,  as  enabling  us  to  fix  the  identical  spot  in- 
habited by  the  Chiffinches  and  the  Killigrews,  by  the 
wrong-headed  Prince  Rupert,  and  by  the  right-minded  Duke 
of  Ormond.  Here,  on  the  site  of  the  present  Treasury,  over- 
looking the  Park,  lived  the  celebrated  George  Monk,  Duke 
of  Albemarle ;  and  here,  overlooking  the  street,  on  the  site 
of  the  Board  of  Trade,  lived  the  unfortunate  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth. 

Both  the  public  and  private  stairs,  or  water  entrances  to  the 
Palace,  have  now  disappeared.  With  how  many  interesting 
events  and  recollections  were  those  stairs  identified !  There 
Wolsey,  when  he  mournfully  embarked  on  board  his  barge 
for  Esher,  must  have  glanced  for  the  last  time  on  the  princely 
palace  which  was  to  be  his  no  more.  There  Henry  the 
Eighth  was  wont  to  embark  amidst  fair  dames  and  gallant 
men  on  his  magnificent  water  progresses  to  Greenwich  and 
Richmond.  Down  those  stairs  his  daughter  Mary  descended 
on  her  way  to  her  coronation  in  Westminster  Abbey.  There 
Elizabeth  was  handed  into  her  barge  by  the  courtly  Leicester 
or  the  ill-fated  Essex.  There  Charles  the  First  descended 
between  an  avenue  of  soldiers  on  his  way  by  water  to  his 
trial  in  Westminster  Hall.  Down  those  stairs  Charles  the 
Second  must  have  often  stolen  in  pursuit  of  his  midnight 
frolics  and  pleasures;  and  lastly,  here  his  brother  James 
descended  in  darkness  and  in  stealth  on  the  night  that  he 
fled  an  exile  to  a  foreign  shore. 

Immediately  to  the  east  of  the  private  water  entrance  to 


DEATH  OF  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  49 

the  palace  were  the  apartments  of  Catherine  of  Braganza, 
which  had  been  previously  occupied  by  Charles  the  First 
and  Cromwell.  Immediately  to  the  west  were  those  of 
Charles  the  Second,  both  suites  of  apartments  overlooking 
the  Thames.  By  the  plan  of  the  Palace  we  have  just  referred 
to,  it  appears  that  the  King's  apartments  joined  those  of  the 
maids  of  honour,  as  described  by  De  Grammont ;  the  "  little 
gallery  "  into  which  they  opened  being  plainly  distinguish- 
able. Lastly,  adjoining  the  water-entrance  and  the  back- 
stairs we  trace  the  apartment  of  William  Chiffinch,  the  in- 
defatigable panderer  to  the  pleasures,  and  the  depositary  of 
the  secrets,  of  the  voluptuous  Charles — whose  name  has  been 
immortalized  by  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

Charles  the  Second  breathed  his  last  at  Whitehall  on  the 
6th  of  February,  1685,  after  a  short  illness,  and  not  without 
suspicion  of  having  been  poisoned.  Evelyn — in  a  passage 
written  on  the  night  of  the  King's  death — has  left  us  a  very 
striking  description  of  Whitehall  as  he  beheld  it  on  the  Sun- 
day preceding.  "  I  can  never  forget,"  he  writes,  "  the  inex- 
pressible luxury  and  profaneness,  gaming  and  all  dissolute- 
ness, and  as  it  were  total  forgetfulness  of  God  (it  being 
Sunday  evening)  which  this  day  se'nnight  I  was  witness  of; 
the  King  sitting  and  toying  with  his  concubines,  Portsmouth, 
Cleveland,  and  Mazarine,  &c.,  a  French  boy  singing  love-songs, 
in  that  glorious  gallery,  whilst  about  twenty  of  the  great 
courtiers  and  other  dissolute  persons  were  at  basset  round  a 
large  table,  a  bank  of  at  least  £2000  in  gold  before  them, 
upon  which  two  gentlemen  who  were  with  me  made  reflec- 
tions with  astonishment.  Six  days  after  all  was  in  the 
dust !" 

A  short  time  before  his  death  Charles  recommended  to 
the  care  and  protection  of  his  brother  James,  all  his  natural 
children,  except  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  who  had  deeply 

VOL.  II.  4 


50  DEATH  OF  CHARLES  THE  SECOND. 

offended  him.  He  begged  him  also  to  be  kind  to  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,  and  especially  to  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth ; 
adding — "  Do  not  let  Nelly  starve."  According  to  the  ac- 
count of  the  Reverend  Francis  Roper,  chaplain  to  the  Bishop 
of  Ely,  who  was  admitted  to  the  sick  chamber  : — "  He  often 
in  extremity  of  pain  would  say  he  suffered,  but  thanked  God 
he  did  so,  and  that  he  suffered  patiently.  He  every  now 
and  then  would  seem  to  wish  for  death,  and  beg  the  pardon 
of  the  standers-by,  and  those  that  were  employed  about  him, 
that  he  gave  so  much  trouble ;  that  lie  hoped  the  work  was 
almost  over ;  he  was  weary  of  this  world ;  he  had  enough  of 
it,  and  was  going  to  a  better.  There  was  so  much  affection 
and  tenderness  expressed  between  the  two  royal  brothers, 
the  one  upon  the  bed,  the  other  almost  droivned  in  tears 
upon  his  knees,  and  kissing  of  his  dying  brother's  hand,  as 
could  not  but  extremely  move  the  standers-by. "*  On  the 
day  after  Charles's  death,  James  received  the  congratulations 
of  his  council,  and  was  formally  proclaimed  at  the  gates  of 
Whitehall  and  in  other  places.  According  to  the  prejudiced 
account  of  Burnet,  the  proclamation  was  read  in  solemn 
silence.  "  There  were  no  tears,"  he  writes,  "  for  the  last  King, 
and  no  shouts  for  the  present  one."  Welwood  and  Dr. 
Calamy,  however,  have  left  us  a  very  different  account  of  the 
manner  in  which  James's  accession  was  hailed  by  the  people. 
On  the  eve  of  the  memorable  Revolution  of  1688,  when 
the  bigotry  and  misconduct  of  the  misguided  James  were 
gradually  bringing  about  the  storm  which  deprived  him  of 
the  sovereignty  of  three  kingdoms,  it  was  at  Whitehall  that 
he  first  received  the  tidings  of  the  projected  invasion  of  his 
dominions  by  the  Prince  of  Orange,  and  that  he  silently 
and  sullenly  awaited  his  fate.  In  the  interval  .between  the 
embarkation  of  the  Prince's  army  in  the  ports  of  Holland 
*  Ellis's  "Orig.  Letters,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  335. 


FLIGHT  OF  JAMES  THE  SECOND'S  QUEEN.        51 

and  its  arrival  at  Torbay,  James's  feelings  may  be  more 
easily  imagined  than  described. 

Among  other  evidences,  of  his  disquietude  was  his  causing 
a  weather-cock  of  no  ordinary  dimensions  to  be  erected 
on  the  roof  of  the  Banqueting  House  at  Whitehall,  opposite 
his  private  apartments,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  him  con- 
stant notice  of  the  direction  of  the  wind,  whether  favour- 
able or  not  for  the  approach  of  the  Dutch  fleet.  "The 
weather-cock,  which  may  still  be  seen  at  the  north  end  of 
the  Banqueting  House,  is  rendered  the  more  remarkable  from 
its  being  transversely  ornamented  with  a  cross,  the  symbol 
of  the  religion,  James's  devotion  to  which  proved  so  fatal 
to  his  posterity  as  well  as  to  himself. 

"  Oh,  but  why  does  he  stay  behind  ! 

By  my  soul  'tis  a  Protestant  wind  !" — Lillibulero. 

When  at  length  it  became  positively  known  that   the 
Prince  of  Orange  had  landed  on  the  shores  of  England,  and 
was  advancing  towards  the  metropolis,  it  was  only  natural 
that  James  should  turn  his  most  earnest  thoughts  towards 
the  safety  of  his  infant  heir,  afterwards  invidiously  styled 
the  "  Old  Pretender,"  and  that  of  his  young  wife,  Mary  of 
Modena,  whose  subsequent  flight  from  Whitehall  is  not  the 
least  romantic  episode  in  his  history.     Accordingly,  on  the 
evening    of  the   6th   December,  1688,  the  King,  without 
having   previously   communicated    his    intentions    to    the 
Queen,  sent  for  the  Count    de    Lauzun,    the    well-known 
favourite  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  and  desired  him  to  make 
instant   preparations  for  her  departure.     He  then   retired 
harassed  and  miserable  to  bed.     Everything  having  been 
duly  prepared,  the  Count  de  Lauzun,  accompanied  by  Mon- 
sieur de  St.  Victor,  repaired  at  the  appointed  hour  to  the 
King's  apartment,  and  informed  him  of  the  steps  they  had 

4—2 


52       FLIGHT  OF  JAMES  THE  SECOND'S  QUEEN. 

taken.  James  instantly  proceeded  to  the  apartment  of  the 
Queen,  who,  on  being  awoke  and  informed  of  her  husband's 
intentions,  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  and  in  a  passion,  of 
grief  implored  him  to  allow  her  to  remain  and  share  the 
dangers  which  surrounded  him.  James,  however,  instead  of 
relenting,  issued  further  orders  that  the  Prince's  two  nurses 
should  be  awakened.  It  was  not  till  the  infant  was  brought 
into  the  room  that  the  feelings  of  the  father  overcame  his- 
natural  coldness,  when,  tenderly  embracing  his  child,  he 
gave  the  most  particular  injunctions  to  the  Count  de  Lauzun 
to  watch  carefully  over  his  charge. 

It  was  between  three  and  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  in 
the  most  inclement  season  of  the  year,  when  the  Queen,, 
carrying  her  infant  in  her  arms,  stole  in  disguise  down  the 
back  stairs  at  Whitehall  to  the  private  water-entrance  to 
the  palace.     The  chief  fear  of  the  fugitives  seems  to  have 
been  lest  the  royal  infant  should  cry  and  attract  the  atten- 
tion of  the  sentinels,  but  fortunately,  alike  insensible  to  the 
inclemency  of  the  elements  and  to  the  extraordinary  revo- 
lution which  was  being  wrought  in  its  fortunes,  its  slumbers 
remained  unbroken.     At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  an  open  boat 
was  in  readiness,  in  which,  in  almost  total  darkness,  with 
the   discomforts   of  a    high   wind,  a  heavy  rain,  and  the 
Thames  being  unusually  tempestuous  and  swollen,  the  un- 
fortunate  Queen  and  her  attendants  crossed  the  river  to- 
Lambeth.     There  a  coach  had  been  appointed  to  meet  them, 
but  by  some  accident  its  arrival  had  been  delayed.    "  During 
the  time   that  she  was  kept  waiting,"  writes  Dalrymple, 
"she  took  shelter  under  the    walls  of  an    old  church  at 
Lambeth,  turning  her  eyes  streaming  with  tears,  sometimes 
upon  the  Prince,  unconscious  of  the  miseries  which  attend 
upon  royalty,  and  who  upon  that  account  raised  the  greater 
compassion  in  her  breast,  and  sometimes  at  the  innumerable 


GALLANT  CONDUCT  OF  LORD  CRAVEN.  53 

lights  of  the  city,  amidst  the  glimmerings  of  which  she  in 
vain  explored  the  palace  in  which  her  husband  was  left,  and 
started  at  every  sound  she  heard  from  thence."  While  in 
this  disagreeable  situation,  the  fugitives  had  a  narrow  escape 
from  discovery.  "  The  Queen,"  writes  Father  Orleans, 
"waiting  in  the  rain  under  the  church-wall  for  a  coach, 
the  curiosity  of  a  man  who  happened  to  come  out  of  a 
neighbouring  inn  with  a  light  gave  considerable  cause  of 
alarm.  He  was  making  towards  the  spot  where  she  was 
standing,  when  E-iva,  one  of  her  attendants,  suddenly  rushed 
forward  and  jostled  him,  so  that  they  both  fell  into  the  mire. 
It  was  a  happy  diversion,  as  the  stranger  believing  it  to  be 
the  result  of  accident,  they  both  apologized,  and  so  the  mat- 
ter ended."  From  Lambeth,  the  Queen  proceeded  by  land  to 
Gravesend,  where  a  vessel  was  waiting  for  her,  in  which, 
sifter  a  safe  and  expeditious  voyage,  she  arrived  at  Calais 
about  four  o'clock  on  the  following  afternoon. 

It  was  not  long  after  the  flight  of  the  Queen  that  the 
ground  in  front  of  Whitehall  very  nearly  became  the  scene 
of  a  sanguinary  encounter.  The  general  in  command  of  the 
Household  Troops  at  this  time  was  the  once  gay  and  accom- 
plished courtier,  Lord  Craven,  he  who  in  former  days,  on 
the  field  of  battle,  had  frequently  dared  death  in  the  cause 
of  his  sovereign,  and  who  subsequently,  amidst  the  horrors 
of  the  Great  Plague,  had  braved  it  with  equal  cheerfulness 
in  the  cause  of  humanity.  'Though  now  approaching  his 
eightieth  year,  he  still  continued  to  perform  his  military- 
duties  with  the  same  zeal  and  alacrity  as  when,  in  the  vigour 
of  his  youth,  he  had  fought  under  the  illustrious  banner  of 
the  great  Gustavus  Adolphus.  Accordingly,  having  received 
intelligence  that  the  Dutch  troops  had  entered  London,  he 
placed  himself  at  the  head  of  his  troops  before  the  palace 
of  Whitehall,  prepared  to  die .  in  defence  of  his  legitimate 


54  FLIGHT  OF  JAMES  THE  SECOND. 

sovereign.  The  minds  of  men  were  eagerly  alive  to  the 
importance  of  the  crisis,  when,  about  eleven  o'clock  at  night, 
the  sound  of  the  approaching  Dutch  was  plainly  audible. 
Learning  that  Lord  Craven  was  prepared  to  receive  them, 
they  marched  through  St.  James's  Park  in  order  of  battle ; 
their  matches  lighted,  and  their  drums  beating.  In  the 
midst,  however,  of  the  general  suspense  and  excitement, 
Lord  Craven  received  positive  orders  from  James  to  retire 
from  his  post ;  a  sentence  which  seems  to  have  been  as  re- 
luctantly obeyed  by  his  humblest  follower  as  by  the  veteran 
hero  himself.  No  choice,  however,  was  left  them  but  to- 
obey. 

The  moment  had  now  arrived  when  the  unfortunate 
James  found  it  imperative  to  consult  his  own  safety.  Ac- 
cordingly, on  the  night  previous  to  his  flight  he  communi- 
cated his  intention  to  the  Duke  of  Northumberland — a 
natural  son  of  Charles  the  Second,  and  lord  in  waiting  at 
the  time, — desiring  him,  on  his  allegiance,  to  keep  the  secret 
till  the  necessity  for  concealment  should  no  longer  exist. 
Accordingly,  about  three  o'clock  on  the  following  morning, 
the  llth  of  December,  the  King  took  boat  at  the  private 
water-entrance  of  the  palace,  and  before  daybreak  was  far 
on  his  way  down  the  river. 

That  morning,  the  King's  ante-chamber  at  Whitehall  being 
thronged,  as  usual  by  the  officers  of  state,  the  gentlemen  of 
his  household,  and  others,  their  surprise  was  excessive 
when,  on  the  door  of  the  bed-chamber  being  thrown  open, 
instead  of  the  King,  the  Duke  of  Northumberland  made  his 
appearance  and  informed  them  of  His  Majesty's  flight. 
Having  performed  this  last  act  of  loyalty  for  his  sovereign, 
the  Duke  forthwith  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  his  regi- 
ment of  Guards  and  declared  for  the  Prince  of  Orange. 

James  in  the  mean  time  had  proceeded  as  far  as  Fevers- 


RETURN  OF  JAMES  THE  SECOND.  65 

ham,  when  he  was  boarded  by  a  boat  containing  thirty-six 
armed  men,  who,  ignorant  of  his  rank  and  mistaking  him  for 
a  fugitive  Roman  Catholic  priest,  not  only  detained,  but  ill- 
treated  him  in  the  most  shameful  manner.  During  the  pro- 
gress of  these  events,  the  Prince  of  Orange  had  advanced  as 
far  as  Windsor,  from  which  place  he  despatched  a  messenger 
to  his  persecuted  father-in-law,  desiring  him  on  no  account  to 
proceed  nearer  to  London  than  Rochester.  The  despatch, 
however,  arrived  too  late.  James,  whatever  may  have  been  his 
reasons,  had  resolved  on  returning  to  London,  where,  such  is 
the  fickleness  of  popular  favour,  his  arrival  was  hailed  by 
the  ringing  of  bells,  the  blazing  of  bonfires,  and  every  mani- 
festation of  popular  delight.  Reresby,  a  contemporary 
writer,  mentions  the  "  loud  huzzas  "  which  were  heard  as 
the  King  passed  through  the  City,  and  Father  Orleans  also 
observes — "  This  was  a  day  of  triumph :  no  man  ever  re- 
membered to  have  seen  the  like ;  ringing  of  bells,  bonfires, 
and  all  the  solemnities  that  are  usually  exhibited  to  testify 
joy  were  practised  on  this  occasion." 

But  gratifying  as  must  have  been  the  evidences  of  reviv- 
ing loyalty,  they  proved  of  no  substantial  advantage  to  the 
fallen  monarch.  On  re-entering  the  palace  of  Whitehall  he 
found  its  gorgeous  chambers  almost  deserted.  The  herd  of 
court  sycophants  and  time-servers  had  gone  to  worship  the 
rising  sun.  Not  only  was  he  waited  upon  but  by  few  per- 
sons of  distinction,  but  he  had  the  mortification  of  seeing 
Dutch  sentries  doing  duty  beneath  his  windows. 

James  was  in  bed  at  Whitehall,  probably  but  little  in- 
clined to  sleep,  when,  about  midnight,  his  privacy  was 
broken  in  upon  by  Lords  Halifax,  Shrewsbury,  and  Dela- 
mere,  who  informed  him  that  he  must  quit  London  the 
next  morning.  For  the  purpose  of  being  near  the  sea-coast, 
he  requested  that  he  might  be  allowed  to  make  Rochester 


56          UNSEEMLY  CONDUCT  OF  QUEEN  MARY. 

his  residence,  and,  as  it  suited  the  views  of  his  adversaries, 
his  request  was  readily  granted.  To  Rochester,  then,  on  a 
stormy  night,  he  was  conveyed  down  the  river  attended  by 
a  Dutch  guard,  and  here  he  remained  till  the  23rd  of  De- 
cember, when,  on  another  dark  and  stormy  night,  he  pro- 
ceeded with  his  natural  son,  the  Duke  of  Berwick,  and  two 
other  faithful  followers,  in  a  small  boat  down  the  river 
Medway  till,  about  midnight,  he  reached  a  sailing  vessel 
which  was  expecting  him  near  the  fort  at  Sheerness.  After 
encountering  much  adverse  and  boisterous  weather,  the 
fugitives,  on  Christmas  day,  1688,  arrived  safely  at  Amble- 
teuse,  in  Picardy. 

It  was  not  many  days  after  the  flight  of  James  that  his 
daughter,  Queen  Mary,  installed  herself,  not  without  exhibit- 
ing some  indecent  feelings  of  exultation  and  joy,  in  the 
apartments  which  had  so  recently  witnessed  the  downfall  of 
her  ill-fated  father.  The  Duchess  of  Maryborough,  speaking, 
in  her  "  Account  of  Her  Own  Conduct,"  of  the  Queen's  want 
of  feeling,  observes — "  Of  this  she  seemed  to  me  to  give  an 
unquestionable  proof  the  first  day  she  came  to  Whitehall. 
She  ran  about  it,  looking  into  every  closet  and  conveniency, 
and  turning  up  the  quilts  upon  the  bed,  as  people  do  when 
they  come  to  an  inn,  and  with  no  sort  of  concern  in  her  ap- 
pearance ;  behaviour  which,  though  at  that  time  I  was  ex- 
tremely caressed  by  her,  I  thought  very  strange  and  unbe- 
coming ;  for  whatever  necessity  there  was  of  deposing  King 
James,  he  was  still  her  father,  who  had  so  lately  been  driven 
from  that  chamber  and  that  bed ;  and  if  she  felt  no  ten- 
derness, I  thought  she  should  still  have  locked  grave,  or  even 
pensively  sad,  at  so  melancholy  a  reverse  of  his  fortune." 
So  also  Evelyn  writes  of  the  new  Queen — "  She  came  into 
Whitehall,  laughing  and  jolly,  as  to  a  wedding,  as  to  seem 
quite  transported.  She  rose  early  the  next  morning,  and, 


WHITEHALL  CONSUMED  BY  FIRE.  57 

in  her  undress,  as  it  was  reported,  before  her  women  were 
up,  went  about  from  room  to  room  to  see  the  convenience  of 
Whitehall ;  lay  in  the  same  bed  and  apartments  where  the 
late  Queen  lay,  and  within  a  night  or  two  sat  down  to  play 
at  basset,  as  the  Queen,  her  predecessor,  used  to  do."  Even 
her  panegyrist,  Bishop  Burnet,  admits  that  he  could  not 
witness  the  unseemly  levity  of  the  Queen's  conduct  without 
censure. 

Whitehall,  convenient  as  was  its  situation,  and  magnificent 
as  were  its  apartments,  was  never  fancied  by  the  King  as 
a  residence.  It  seems  doubtful,  indeed,  whether  he  ever 
passed  a  night  within  its  walls.  Whitehall,  in  fact,  may  be 
said  to  have  ceased  to  exist  with  the  House  of  Stuart.  In 
1697,  nearly  the  whole  of  this  magnificent  structure,  which 
contained  upwards  of  a  thousand  apartments,  was  consumed 
by  fire. 

The  Banqueting  House,  and  a  room  or  two  said  to  have 
been  occupied  by  Oliver  Cromwell,  lately  forming  part  of  the 
Exchequer  Office,  and  now  in  the  occupation  of  the  Board  of 
Trade,  are  all  that  remain  to  us  of  the  ancient  palace. 

On  the  site  of  the  present  Council  Office  and  Treasury 
was  situated  the  ancient  Cock-pit  of  the  palace  of  Whitehall, 
where  our  sovereigns  enjoyed  the  cruel  sports  which  were 
the  delight  of  their  age.  The  Cock-pit  subsequently  be- 
came an  integral  part  of  the  palace  of  Whitehall,  and  was 
inhabited  from  time  to  time  by  several  celebrated  persons. 
From  one  of  its  windows,  overlooking  St.  James's  Park, 
Philip  Earl  of  Pembroke  and  Montgomery  saw  his  unfortu- 
nate master,  Charles  the  First,  walk  to  his  execution  at 
Whitehall.  Here  the  wife  of  Oliver  Cromwell  was  living 
at  the  tune  her  husband  was  absent  on  his  Scottish  cam- 
paign. Here  at  the  time  of  the  Restoration  resided  George 
Monk,  Duke  of  Albemarle,  and  here,  on  the  3rd  of  January, 


58  THE  COCK-PIT. 


1670,  lie  died.  In  167-3  it  was  occupied  by  the  second  and 
witty  George  Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham. 

Charles  the  Second,  towards  the  close  of  his  reign,  con- 
ferred the  apartments  in  the  Cock-pit  on  his  niece,  the 
Princess  Anne  of  Denmark,  afterwards  Queen  Anne.  Here 
she  was  residing  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution  of  1688,  and 
hence,  on  the  approach  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  to  London, 
she  fled  at  midnight  down  the  back  stairs  in  "  her  night- 
gown and  slippers,"  with  only  the  celebrated  Sarah  Duchess 
of  Marlborough  for  her  companion.  A  few  years  afterwards, 
owing  to  the  harsh  conduct  of  King  William,  and  of  her 
sister,  Queen  Mary,  she  was  again  compelled  to  quit  the 
Cock-pit.  Lord  Dartmouth,  speaking  of  the  compulsory  re- 
moval of  the  Princess  from  Whitehall,  observes — "  She  was 
carried  in  a  sedan  to  Sion — being  then  with  child,  without 
any  guard  or  decent  attendance — where  she  miscarried,  and 
all  people  forbid  waiting;  which  was  complied  with  by 
everybody  but  the  Duke  of  Somerset,  whose  house  she  was 
in,  and  Lord  Rochester,  who  was  her  uncle."  '  The  Princess 
subsequently  removed  to  Berkeley  House,  Piccadilly,  where 
she  remained  till  the  death  of  her  sister,  having  become 
reconciled  to  King  William. 

It  seems  to  have  been  very  early  in  the  last  century  that 
a  part  of  the  Cock-pit  was  converted  into  the  Privy  Council 
Office.  Here,  during  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne,  was  the  office 
of  the  celebrated  Godolphin,  and  of  the  no  less  celebrated 
Har'ey  Earl  of  Oxford.  Here,  in  full  council,  Guiscard 
made  his  attempt  on  the  life  of  Harley.  Here  the  assassin 
himself  fell  pierced  with  many  wounds,  of  which  he  after- 
wards died  in  Newgate  ;  and,  lastly,  here  it  was  that  Bishop 
Atterbury  underwent  his  memorable  examination  before  the 
Privy  Council  previously  to  his  committal  to  the  Tower. 

In  the  "  New  View  of  London,"  printed  in  1708,  the  Cock- 


THE  COCK-PIT.  59 


pit  is  described  as  extending  "  between  the  gate  into  King 
Street,  Westminster,  and  the  gate  by  the  Banqueting  House." 
The  same  year  also  we  find  the  Treasury  spoken  of  as  being 
"  kept  at  the  Cock-pit  near  Whitehall."  Till  a  late  period 
in  the  last  century  the  Treasury  letters  and  minutes  were 
headed  "  Cock-pit." 


THE  THAMES  AT  LONDON. 

THE  THAMES  IX  ANCIENT  TIMES. — OLD  PALACE  OF  WHITEHALL. — NORTH- 
UMBERLAND, YORK,  DURHAM,  SALISBURY,  WORCESTER,  AND  SOMERSET 
HOUSES. — TEMPLE  GARDEN. — ALSATIA.—  BRIDEWELL. — BAYNARD'S  CASTLE. 
— QUEENHITHE.  — BANKSIDE.  — WATER  PROCESSIONS . 

PROCEEDING  from  Westminster  down  the  river  to  the 
Tower,  let  us  note,  as  we  pass  along,  a  few  of  the  more 
remarkable  places  associated  with  the  history  of  the 
past.  Let  us  recall  the  time  when  the  Thames  was  the 
great  thoroughfare — the  "  silent  highway,"  as  it  has  been 
styled — between  London  and  Westminster ;  when  its  banks 
were  adorned  with  a  succession  of  stately  palaces  and  fair 
gardens;  and  when  it  was  crowded  with  gilded  barges 
covered  with  silken  awning,  and  with  a  thousand  wherries 
freighted  with  hooded  churchmen,  grave  merchants,  and 
laughing  beauty. 

"  Heave  and  how,  rumbelow  "- 

was  the  ancient  chorus  of  the  London  watermen  in  the  days 
of  the  Plantagenets  ;  from  which  time  to  as  late  as  the  reign 
of  Charles  the  First,  we  find  this  peculiar  race  famous  for 
keeping  time  to  their  oars  with  some  characteristic  song. 

\"Row  the  boat,  Norman,  row  to  thy  leaman," 

was  the  first  line  of  a  song  composed  by  the  London  water- 


\ 

\ 


YORK  HOUSE.  61 


men  in  honour  of  John  Norman,  Lord  Mayor  of  London  in 
the  reign  of  Henry  the  Sixth,  who,  in  1454,  first  introduced 
the  custom  of  the  Lord  Mayor  proceeding  on  state  occasions 
by  water  from  London  to  Westminster  instead  of  on  horse- 
back. The  days  have  long  gone  by  when  the  oar  of  the 
London  waterman  was  entangled  in  the  stems  of  the  water- 
lily;  when,  as  described  by  Paulus  Jovius  in  1552,  the 
river  "  abounded  in  swans,  swimming  in  flocks ;"  or  when,  as 
mentioned  in  the  "  Spectator,"  "  ten  sail  of  apricock  boats  " 
were  seen  landing  their  cargoes  at  Strand  Bridge,  having 
previously  taken  in  melons  at  Nine  Elms.  But  though  the 
Thames  at  London  may  have  lost  a  great  deal  as  regards  the 
picturesque,  there  still  remains  much  to  charm  and  interest 
us,  besides  which  the  progress  of  time  has  had  the  effect  of 
increasing  its  thousand  historical  associations. 

The  first  spot  of  interest  in  our  journey  is  the  site  of  the  old 
palace  of  Whitehall,  from  the  water-stairs  of  which  our 
monarchs  were  accustomed  to  embark  in  all  their  splendour 
and  triumph  from  the  days  of  Henry  the  Eighth  to  those  of 
the  last  of  the  Stuart  Kings.  Further  on  are  the  gardens  of 
Northumberland  House,  formerly  extending  to  the  water ; 
while,  adjoining  them,  the  railway  station  erected  on  the  site 
of  Hungerford  Market  points  out  the  position  of  the  London 
residence  of  the  powerful  family  of  the  Hungerfords  of  Fair- 
leigh,  in  Wiltshire,  whose  mansion  was  pulled  down  by  Sir 
Edward  Hungerford  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second.  A 
little  beyond  stood  York  House,  formerly  the  inn,  or  resi- 
dence, of  the  Bishops  of  Norwich,  and  afterwards  of  the  Arch- 
bishops of  York.  Here  lived  the  celebrated  Lord  Chancellor 
Egerton,  and  here  the  great  Bacon  was  born :  here,  also,  in 
the  days  of  his  magnificence,  lived  the  great  favourite,  George 
Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  from  under  its  beautiful 
gateway,  the  work  of  Inigo  Jones — he  must  often  have  passed 


62  DURHAM  HOUSE. 

to  his  sumptuous  barge  in  all  the  pomp  and  pride  of  human 
greatness. 

Close  to  York  House  stood  Durham  House,  the  residence 
of  the  Bishops  of  Durham,  now  occupied  by  Durham  Yard 
and  the  Adelphi.  In  July,  1258,  at  a  time  when  the  treachery 
and  insincerity  of  Henry  the  Third,  the  exactions  with  which 
he  oppressed  his  unfortunate  subjects,  and  his  contempt  of 
all  solemn  obligations,  threatened  to  draw  down  on  him  the 
judgments  of  Heaven  and  the  anathemas  of  the  Church,  we 
find  the  misguided  monarch  entering  his  barge  at  Westmin- 
ster Stairs,  and  passing  Durham  House  in  his  way  down 
the  river  to  the  Tower.  Just  at  this  time  the  sky  be- 
came obscured,  and  so  violent  a  storm  of  thunder  and 
lightning  arose,  that  Henry,  who  was  at  all  times  terrified 
by  any  conflict  of  the  elements,  ordered  the  rowers  to  put 
him  on  shore.  Durham  House  happened  at  this  time  to 
be  occupied  by  Simon  de  Montfort,  Earl  of  Leicester, 
who  had  married  the  King's  sister,  and  who  was  at  the 
head  of  the  associated  barons  with  whom  Henry  was  then 
on  the  worst  terms.  It  suited  Leicester,  however,  to  be 
courteous  to  his  sovereign,  and  accordingly,  perceiving  the 
approach  of  the  royal  barge,  he  hastened  to  receive  the 
King  on  his  landing,  and  after  having  respectfully  saluted 
him,  endeavoured  to  dispel  his  fears.  "  Your  majesty,"  he 
said,  "  should  not  be  afraid  since  the  tempest  is  over."  At 
these  words,  the  King,  putting  on  a  severe  expression  of 
countenance,  exclaimed  passionately — "Above  measure  I 
dread  thunder  and  lightning ;  but,  by  the  head  of  God,  1 
am  in  more  terror  of  thee  than  of  all  the  thunder  and  light- 
ning in  the  world." 

Next  to  Durham  House  stood  Salisbury  House,  built  by 
Robert  Cecil,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  in  the  reign  of  James  the 
First ;  while  adjoining  it  stood  Worcester  House,  the  site  of 


SOMERSET  HOUSE.  63 

which  is  now  covered  with  Beaufort  Buildings.  Farther  on 
•extending  as  far  as  Waterloo  Bridge,  stood  the  magnificent 
palace  of  the  Savoy — the  residence  of  the  great  Plantage- 
nets,  Dukes  of  Lancaster — the  place  of  captivity  of  John, 
King  of  France,  who  was  taken  prisoner  at  the  battle  of 
Poictiers— and  which  was  devoted  by  Wat  Tyler  to  the 
flames  in  1381,  from  the  hatred  which  he  bore  to  its  owner, 
the  celebrated  John  of  Gaunt,  Duke  of  Lancaster. 

Somerset  House,  standing  on  the  site  of  the  famous  palace 
erected  by  the  Protector  Duke  of  Somerset,  recalls  a  host  of 
interesting  associations.  Beyond  it  stood  Bath's  Inn,  the 
residence  of  the  Bishops  of  Bath  and  Wells  till  the  reign  of 
Edward  the  Sixth,  and  afterwards  the  property  of  the  cele- 
brated high  admiral  Lord  Thomas  Seymour,  and  one  of  the 
scenes  of  his  "  indecent  dalliance  "  with  the  Princess  Eliza- 
beth during  the  lifetime  of  her  sister,  Queen  Mary.  Subse- 
quently it  became  the  residence  of  the  Howards,  Earls  of 
Arundel  and  Dukes  of  Norfolk,  whose  titles  are  still  pre- 
served in  Arundel  Street  and  Surrey  Street. 

"Essex  Stairs,"  between  the  site  of  Arundel  House 
and  the  Temple,  points  out  the  spot  where  stood  the  garden 
or  water  entrance  to  Essex  House,  once  the  residence  of  the 
ill-fated  favourite  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  the  scene  of  his 
conspiracy  against  his  royal  mistress.  The  Temple  Garden 
—whether  we  people  it  in  imagination  with  the  Knights 
Templars  of  the  olden  time,  or  with  the  many  learned  men 
who  have  since  sauntered  beneath  its  green  avenues — is  a 
spot  especially  interesting.  Here  it  is,  in  his  play  of  Henry 
the  Sixth,  that  Shakspeare  places  the  scene  between  Richard 
Plantagenet  and  the  Earl  of  Somerset,  which,  in  the  subse- 
quent bloody  quarrel  between  the  rival  houses  of  York  and 
Lancaster,  obtained  for  the  two  parties  the  names  of  the 
White  and  Red  Rose. 


BRIDEWELL. 


"  Suffolk.     Within  the  temple  hall  we  were  too  loud  ; 
The  garden  here  is  more  convenient. 

Plan.     Let  him  that  is  a  true-born  gentleman 

And  stands  upon  the  honour  of  his  birth, 

If  he  suppose  that  I  have  pleaded  truth, 

From  oft'  this  brier  pluck  a  white  rose  with  me. 
Som.     Let  him  that  is  no  coward  nor  no  flatterer, 

But  dare  maintain  the  party  of  the  truth, 

Pluck  a  red  rose  from  off  this  thorn  with  me. 
Warwick.     I  love  no  colours,  and  without  all  colour 

Of  base  insinuating  flattery 

I  pluck  this  white  rose  with  Plantagenet. 
Suffolk.     I  pluck  this  red  rose  with  young  Somerset 

And  say  withal  I  think  he  held  the  right. " 

Adjoining  the  Temple  was  Alsatia,  a  place  of  refuge  for 
the  outcasts  of  society  in  the  reigns  of  Elizabeth  and  James 
the  First,  now  perhaps  principally  familiar  to  the  reader 
from  Scott's  admirable  romance,  the  "  Fortunes  of  Nigel." 
Immediately  to  the  east  stood  the  church  and  convent  of 
the  Carmelites,  or  White  Friars — a  name  preserved,  within 
the  last  century,  in  "Whitefriars  Stairs" — while  close  to  it 
is  the  site  of  Dorset  House,  formerly  the  residence  of  the 
Bishops  of  Salisbury,  and  afterwards  inhabited  by  the  cele- 
brated Thomas  Sackville,  Earl  of  Dorset.  Here  he  composed 
his  tragedy  of  "  Porrex  and  Ferrex,"  which  was  performed 
before  Queen  Elizabeth  at  Whitehall,  and  here  more  than 
one  of  his  successors,  a  race  of  warriors  and  poets,  breathed 
their  last. 

Next  we  pass  by  the  site  of  Bridewell,  a  formidable  castle 
in  the  days  of  William  the  Conqueror,  and  the  favourite 
palace  of  our  early  Norman  sovereigns,  the  walls  of  which 
were  formerly  washed  by  the  clear  waters  of  the  Fleet  River. 

In  the  days  when  London  was  a  fortified  city,  the  great 
wall  which  surrounded  it  ran  along  the  Fleet  River,  extending 
to  the  Thames  nearly  where  Blackfriars  Bridge  now  stands. 
Within  the  walls  stood  the  great  house  of  the  Dominicans, 


BANKSIDE.  6> 


or  Black  Friars,  a  spot  famous  in  the  history  of  England ; 
while  further  to  the  east  of  the  bridge  is  the  site  of 
Baynard's  Castle,  which  takes  its  name  from  Baynard,  a  fol- 
lower of  William  the  Conqueror,  who  died  in  the  reign  of 
William  Rufus.  This  spot  is  also  endeared  to  us  from  being 
associated  with  the  pages  of  Shakspeare,  as  well  as  with 
some  of  the  most  interesting  passages  in  the  history  of  our 
country.  But  as  we  may  presently  have  to  dwell  at  greater 
length  on  one  or  two  of  these  sites  of  past  splendour,  we 
must  not  here  too  much  anticipate  the  interest  which  at- 
taches to  them. 

In  our  progress  down  the  river,  we  pass  under  the 
shadow  of  the  great  cathedral  of  St.  Paul's.  At  its  foot 
is  Queenhithe,  or  Queen's  Harbour,  anciently  called  Edred's 
Hithe — the  spot  where  vessels  discharged  their  cargoes  as 
early  as  the  days  of  the  Saxons.  King  Stephen  bestowed  it 
on  William  de  Ypres,  who,  in  his  turn,  conferred  it  on  the 
convent  of  the  Holy  Trinity  "within  Aldgate."  In  the 
reign  of  Henry  the  Third  it  again  came  into  the  possession 
of  the  crown;  when,  apparently  from  its  harbour  dues 
having  been  made  the  perquisites  of  the  Queen,  it  obtained 
its  name  of  Ripa,  Regince,  or  Queen's  Wharf. 

On  the  opposite,  or  southern  bank  of  the  Thames — be- 
tween Blackfriars  Bridge  and  Southwark  Bridge — is  Bank- 
side.  Here  was  the  Globe  Theatre,  immortalized  as  the  spot 
where  Shakspeare  trod  the  stage ;  here  was  the  celebrated 
"  Paris  Garden ;"  here  stood  the  circuses  for  "  bowll-bayt- 
ing  "  and  "  beare-baytynge,"  where  Queen  Elizabeth  enter- 
tained the  French  ambassadors  with  the  baiting  of  wild 
beasts ;  here  stood  the  Falcon  Tavern — the  "  Folken  Ine," 
as  it  is  styled  in  the  ancient  plans  of  Bankside — the  daily 
resort  of  Shakspeare  and  his  dramatic  companions ;  here, 
between  Southwark  Bridge  and  London  Bridge,  the  site 

VOL.  II.  5 


66  RICHARD  THE  SECOND  AND  GOWER. 

still  pointed  out  by  Pike  Gardens,  were  the  "  pike  ponds  '*• 
which  supplied  our  monarchs  with  fresh- water  fish;  and; 
lastly,  here  were  the  park  and  palace  of  the  Bishops  of  Win- 
chester. 

The  history  of  old  London  Bridge  we  shall  reserve  for  our 
notices  of  Southwark  and  of  its  interesting  locality.  But, 
before  landing  at  the  Tower,  let  us  pause  to  mention  one  or 
two  incidents  which  throw  a  further  interest  over  the  old 
river. 

It  was  while  proceeding  by  water  in  his  state  barge  that 
Richard  the  Second,  observing  Gower  the  poet  passing  by 
in  his  wherry,  called  him  on  board,  and  in  the  course  of 
conversation  commanded  him  to 

"  Make  a  book  after  his  hest." 

The  result  was  the  production  of  the  "  Confessio  Amantis," 
in  which  the  poet,  in  a  simple  but  graphic  manner,  describes, 
his  interview  with  his  sovereign : — 

"As  it  befel  upon  a  tide, 
As  thing  which  should  then  betide  ; 
In  Thames,  when  it  was  flowing, 
As  I  by  boat  came  rowing, 
So  as  fortune  her  time  set, 
My  liege  lord  perchance  I  met, 
And  so  befel,  as  I  came  nigh, 
Out  of  my  boat,  when  he  me  sygh  ; 
He  bade  me  come  into  his  barge  ; 
And  when  I  was  with  him  at  large, 
Among  other  things  he  said 
He  hath  this  charge  upon  me  laid, 
And  made  me  do  my  business, 
That  to  his  high  worthiness 
Some  new  thinge  I  should  book, 
That  he  himself  might  look, 
After  the  form  of  my  writing. 
And  thus  upon  his  commanding, 
My  heart  is  well  the  more  glad 
To  write  so  as  he  me  bade." 


THE  DUCHESS  OF  GLOUCESTER.  67 

.          . , .     •  • •-         -  ••  r 

A  few  years  afterwards,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Sixth, 
we  find  the  Thames  connected  with  the  troubles  of  the  un- 
fortunate Eleanor  Cobham,  wife  of  Humphrey  Plantagenet, 
Duke  of  Gloucester.  She  was  accused  with  two  other 
persons — one  Bullinbrooke,  "  a  priest  very  expert  in  the  art 
of  necromancy,"  and  Margery  Goudmain,  commonly  called 
the  Witch  of  Eye — of  conspiring  against  the  King's  life, 
with  the  object  of  elevating  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  to  the 
throne.  Another  charge  brought  against  the  Duchess  was 
that  of  having  administered  love-potions  to  her  husband  "  to 
make  him  love  her ;"  the  truth  of  which  she  admitted,  though 
she  positively  denied  having  conspired  against  the  life  of  the 
King.  Subsequently  Bullinbrooke  was  hanged,  drawn,  and 
quartered,  and  the  Witch  of  Eye  was  burnt,  while  the 
Duchess  escaped  with  performing  penance  and  suffering  im- 
prisonment for  life.  On  three  different  occasions  she  was 
compelled  to  walk  through  Fleet  Street  and  other  places 
with  her  head  uncovered,  and  with  a  taper  of  two  pounds 
weight  in  her  hand,  which  she  offered  at  the  high  altar  of  St. 
Paul's  Cathedral.  On  each  of  these  occasions  the  unfortunate 
lady  was  brought  from  Westminster  to  the  City  by  water.  On 
the  13th  of  November,  1440,  she  was  landed  at  the  Temple 
Stairs  ;  on  the  15th  at  the  Old  Swan  Stairs,  close  to  London 
Bridge,  and  on  the  17th  at  Queenhithe.  The  fact  is  rather 
a  remarkable  one  that,  notwithstanding  the  lapse  of  more 
than  four  hundred  years,  the  three  "  stairs  "  we  have  just 
mentioned  should  have  remained  till  our  time  with  the  same 
names  by  which  they  were  distinguished  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  the  Sixth. 

Previously  to  the  coronation  of  Elizabeth  of  York,  consort 
of  Hemy  the  Seventh — that  "  gentle,  beautiful,  and  fruitful 
lady,"  as  she  is  styled  by  Lord  Bacon — she  was  magnificently 
conducted  by  water  from  the  palace  at  Greenwich  to  West- 

5—2 


68  CORONATION  OF  ELIZABETH  OF  YORK. 

minster,  being  attended  by  "  barges  freshly  furnished  with 
banners  and  streamers  of  silk."  The  ceremony  was  per- 
formed in  Westminster  Abbey,  by  Morton,  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  on  Sunday,  the  25th  of  November,  1487.  "  She 
was  royally  apparelled,"  writes  Ive  in  his  account  of  the 
"  Coronacion  of  Queene  Elizabeth,"  "  and  accompanied  with 
my  lady,  the  King's  mother,  and  by  many  other  great  estates, 
both  lords  and  ladies,  richly  besene,  came  forward  to  the 
coronation ;  and  at  their  coming  forth  from  Greenwich  by 
water  there  was  attending  upon  her  there  the  mayor,  sheriffs, 
and  aldermen  of  the  city,  and  diverse  and  many  worshipful 
commoners,  chosen  out  of  every  craft,  in  their  liveries,  in 
barges  freshly  furnished  with  banners  and  streamers  of  silk, 
richly  beaten  with  the  arms  and  badges  of  their  crafts ;  and 
especially  a  barge,  called  the  bachelor's  barge,  wherein  were 
many  gentlemanly  pageants  well  and  curiously  devised  to 
do  her  highness  sport  and  pleasure  with." 

It  was  while  passing  down  the  Thames  in  his  sumptuous 
barge,  in  1521,  that  the  Prince  of  the  Blood,  Edward  Bohun, 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  the  victim  of  his  arch-enemy  Cardi- 
nal Wolsey,  was  arrested  by  the  Captain  of  the  King's  guard, 
Sir  Henry  Marney,  and  carried  through  the  Traitor's  Gate 
to  the  Tower,  whence,  on  the  day  of  his  trial,  he  was  con- 
veyed by  water  to  Westminster  Hall,  still  attended  with 
all  the  ceremony  due  to  his  high  position.  When,  however, 
later  in  the  day  he  re-embarked  onboard  his  barge  at  West- 
minster Stairs,  it  was  as  a  condemned  criminal.  To  Sir 
Thomas  Lovell,  Constable  of  the  Tower,  he  observed — 
"When  I  came  to  Westminster,  I  was  Lord  High  Con- 
stable and  Duke  of  Buckingham,  but  now — poor  Edward 
Bohun !"  Having  been  landed  at  the  Temple  Stairs,  with 
the  fatal  axe  carried  before  him,  he  was  thence  conducted 
through  the  City  to  the  Tower  on  foot  as  a  "  cast  man."  A 


PROCESSION  OF  HENRY  AND  ANNE  OF  CLEVES.  69 

few  days  afterwards,  amidst  the  tears  and  lamentations  of  a 
vast  concourse  of  people,  he  perished  by  the  hands  of  the 
headsman  on  Tower  Hill. 

During  the  time  that  the  famous  conclave  was  sitting  in 
judgment,  in  the  great  hall  at  Blackfriars,  on  the  legality  of 
the  marriage  between  Henry  the  Eighth  and  Catherine  of 
Aragon,  the  splendid  barge  of  Cardinal  Wolsey  was  to  be 
seen  constantly  passing  from  the  court  at  Blackfriars  to  the 
palace  of  Bridewell,  to  enable  him  to  communicate  from 
time  to  time  to  the  impatient  monarch  the  result  of  the 
day's  proceedings.  On  one  occasion,  on  re-entering  his  barge 
after  having  been  closeted  for  several,  apparently  unpleasant, 
hours  with  his  royal  master,  his  companion  the  Bishop  of 
Carlisle,  who  had  accompanied  him  to  the  palace,  happened 
to  hazard  the  trite  observation  that  it  was  a  "  very  hot  day." 
"  Yes,"  said  the  Cardinal  pithily,  "  and  if  you  had  been  as 
well  chafed  as  I  have  been  within  this  hour,  you  ^uould  say 
it  was  very  hot." 

On  the  occasion  of  the  nuptials  of  Henry  the  Eighth  and 
Anne  of  Cleves,  in  15  40,  the  King  and  his  bride  proceeded 
by  water  from  Greenwich  to  Westminster  hi  great  state. 
"  On  the  fourth  of  February,"  writes  Holinshed,  "  the  King 
and  Queen  removed  to  Westminster  by  water,  on  whom  the 
Lord  Mayor  and  his  brethren,  with  twelve  of  the  chief  com- 
panies of  the  City,  all  in  barges  gorgeously  garnished  with 
banners,  pennons,  and  targets,  richly  covered,  and  furnished 
with  instruments  sweetly  sounding,  gave  their  attendance  ; 
and  by  the  way  all  the  ships  shot  off,  and  likewise  from 
the  Tower  a  great  peal  of  ordnance  went  off  hastily." 

A  few  years  afterwards,  when  Henry  the  Eighth  declared 
his  marriage  with  Anne  Boleyn,  the  young  Queen  was  con-   *M 
ducted  "  by  all  the  crafts  of  London  "  from  Greenwich  to  the 
Tower.     There  were  "  trumpets,"  we  are  told,  "  shawms,  and 


70          WATER  PROCESSION  OF  ANNE  BOLEYN. 

other  divers  instruments,  all  the  way  playing  and  making 
great  melody."  "The  Lord  Mayor's  state  barge,"  writes 
Mr.  Ty tier,  "  led  the  way,  adorned  by  flags  and  pennons 
hung  with  rich  tapestries,  and  ornamented  on  the  outside 
with  scutcheons  of  metal,  suspended  on  cloth  of  gold  and 
silver.  It  was  preceded  by  a  wafter,  or  flat  vessel,  full  of 
ordnance,  on  the  deck  of  which  a  dragon  pranced  about 
furiously,  twisting  his  tail  and  belching  out  wildfire.  The 
Mayor's  was  followed  by  fifty  other  barges  belonging  to  the 
trades  and  merchant-companies,  all  sumptuously  decked 
with  silk  and  arras,  and  having  bands  of  music  on  board. 
On  his  lordship's  left  hand  was  seen  a  raft  with  an  artificial 
mountain,  having  on  its  summit  a  wheel  of  gold,  whereon 
was  perched  a  white  falcon  crowned  and  surrounded  by 
garlands  of  white  and  red  roses.  This  was  the  Queen's 
device,  and  on  the  mountain  sat  virgins  who  sang  and  played 
sweetly.  This  civic  cavalcade  rowed  down  to  Greenwich, 
where  Anne  appeared  habited  in  cloth  of  gold,  and,  entering 
her  barge,  accompanied  by  her  suite  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
women, set  forward  to  the  Tower.  Around  her  were  many 
noblemen — the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  her 
father,  the  Earl  of  Wiltshire,  with  the  Earls  of  Arundel, 
Derby,  Rutland,  Worcester,  and  others,  all  in  their  private 
barges.  She  thus  rowed  to  the  Tower,  amidst  the  shouts  of 
the  people,  and  peals  of  ordnance  from  the  ships  which  were 
anchored  close  in  shore.  On  arriving  at  the  fortress  she  was 
received  by  the  Lord  Chamberlain  and  brought  to  the  King, 
who  met  her  at  the  postern  and  kissed  her.  She  then  turned 
to  the  Mayor,  and  having  gracefully  thanked  him  and  the 
citizens  for  the  honour  they  had  done  her,  entered  the 
Tower." 

Less   than  three   years  after  this  scene  of  triumph  the 
young  and  beautiful  Queen  was  reconducted  over  the  same 


ROYAL  PROCESSION.  -71 

•"  silent  highway,"  and  landed  a  miserable  prisoner  at  the 
Traitors'  Gate  of  the  Tower ! 

In  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth  the  Thames  again  became 
the  gay  scene  of  many  a  royal  procession.  It  was  on  the 
occasion  of  Elizabeth's  stately  progresses  on  the  Thames, 
that  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  from  his  prison-window  in  the 
Tower,  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  royal  mistress  as  she  was 
landing  at  Blackfriars.  To  Sir  Robert  Cecil,  Arthur  George 
writes  in  1592 — "  Upon  a  report  of  her  Majesty's  being  at 
Sir  George  Carew's,  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  having  gazed  and 
sighed  a  long  time  at  his  study- window,  from  whence  he 
might  discern  the  barges  and  boats  about  the  Blackfriars' 
Stairs,  suddenly  broke  out  into  a  great  distemper,  and  swore 
.that  his  enemies  had  on  purpose  brought  her  Majesty  thither 
to  break  his  gall  in  sunder  with  Tantalus'  torment,  that  when 
she  went  away  he  might  see  death  before  his  eyes,  and  many, 
.such-like  conceits.  And,  as  a  man  transported  with  passion, 
he  swore  to  Sir  George  Carew  that  he  would  disguise  himself, 
and  get  into  a  pair  of  oars,  to  ease  his  mind  but  with  a  sight 
of  the  Queen." 

In  the  following  reign — on  the  occasion  of  the  marriage 
of  the  interesting  Princess  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  James 
the  First,  with  the  Elector  Palatine — the  Thames  at  White- 
hall was  the  scene  of  extraordinary  splendour  and  rejoicings. 
Among  those  who  took  a  share  in  the  pageant  were  the 
members  of  the  Inner  Temple  and  of  Gray's  Inn,  who  had 
been  invited  to  perform  a  masque  before  the  Court.  "  These 
maskers,"  we  are  told,  "  with  their  whole  train  in  all  tri- 
umphant manner  and  good  order,  took  barge  at  Winchester 
Stairs  about  seven  of  the  clock  that  night,  and  rowed  to 
Whitehall  against  the  tide.  The  chief  maskers  went  in 
the  King's  barge  royally  adorned,  and  plenteously  furnished 
with  a  great  number  of  great  wax-lights,  that  they  alone 


72  RECEPTION  OF  HENRIETTA  MARIA. 

made  a  glorious  show :  other  gentlemen  went  in  the  Prince's 
barge,  and  certain  other  went  in  other  fair  barges,  and  were 
led  by  two  admirals.  Besides  all  these,  they  had  four  lusty 
warlike  galleys  to  convoy  and  attend  them ;  each  barge  and 
galley  being  replenished  with  store  of  torch-lights,  made  so 
rare  and  brave  a  show  upon  the  water  as  the  like  was  never 
seen  upon  the  Thames." 

On  the  occasion  of  the  marriage  of  Charles  the  First  and 
Henrietta  Maria,  the  Thames  at  London  presented  a  still 
more  stirring  and  splendid  scene.  On  the  16th  of  June, 
1625,  Charles,  who  had  met  his  young  brids  at  Dover,  em- 
barked with  her  on  board  the  royal  barge  at  Gravesend, 
whence,  attended  by  several  of  the  magnificent  vessels  of 
the  nobility,  they  proceeded  up  the  river  in  regal  state. 
From  London  Bridge  to  Whitehall  the  procession  resembled  a 
triumph.  Thousands  of  vessels  crowded  the  Thames.  Every 
lighter  and  barge  was  filled  with  spectators.  The  banks  ap- 
peared a  moving  mass  of  people,  who,  as  the  guns  roared 
from  the  Tower,  vied  with  each  other  in  the  clamour  of 
their  gratulations.  The  King  and  Queen  were  severally 
dressed  in  green.  The  windows  of  the  barge,  notwithstand- 
ing the  rain  fell  in  torrents,  were  kept  open  ;  Henrietta  fre- 
quently acknowledging  the  shouts  of  the  populace  by  grace- 
fully waving  her  hand.  It  was  observed  that  her  head 
already  reached  the  King's  shoulder,  and  that  she  was  young 
enough  to  grow  taller.* 

In  the  "  Strafford  Letters  "  will  be  found  more  than  one 
interesting  notice  of  the  celebrated  Archbishop  Laud  pass- 
ing between  his  episcopal  palace  at  Lambeth  and  the  palace 
of  Whitehall.  For  instance,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  the 
Earl  of  Strafford,  speaking  of  the  state  of  his  health,  he 
regrets  that,  in  consequence  of  his  elevation  to  the  See  of 

*  Ellis's  Original  Letters. 


FLIGHT  OF  JAME8  THE  SECOND.  73 

Canterbury,  he  has  now  simply  to  glide  across  the  river  in 
his  barge  when  on  his  way  either  to  the  Court  or  the  Star- 
chamber  ;  whereas,  when  Bishop  of  London,  there  were  five 
miles  of  rough  road  between  the  palace  of  Fulham  and 
Whitehall,  the  jolting  over  which  in  his  coach  he  describes 
as  having  been  extremely  beneficial  to  his  health. 

The  bed  of  the  Thames  was  once  for  a  short  time  the  de- 
pository of  the  Great  Seal  of  England.  James  the  Second 
having  obtained  possession  of  it  on  the  night  of  his  flight 
from  Whitehall,  he  purposely  let  it  fall  into  the  water  as 
he  passed  down  the  river.  Not  long  afterwards  it  was  re- 
covered by  a  fisherman  and  restored  to  the  government. 


THE  TOWER. 

DESCRIPTION    OF   THE    FORTRESS.  —  ITS    PRINCIPAL    BULWARKS.  TOWER 

CHAPEL. — TRAITORS'  GATE. — KINGS  WHO  BUILT,  ENLARGED,  AND  LIVED 
IN  IT. — DISTINGUISHED  PRISONERS  WHOSE  MISFORTUNES  OR  CRIMES  HAVE 
THROWN  A  DEEP  INTEREST  OVER  ITS  DUNGEONS. 

A  SSOCIATED  with  almost  every  great  and  every  tragic 
^/"\  event  in  the  history  of  our  country,  there  is  no 
building  in  Europe  which  to  an  Englishman  is 
replete  with  feelings  and  recollections  of  such  deep  and 
varied  interest  as  the  Tower  of  London.  Who  is  there, 
indeed,  whose  philosophy  is  so  rigid,  or  whose  heart  is  so 
dead  to  every  sentiment  of  poetry  and  romance,  as  to  be  able 
to  pass  without  deep  emotion  through  its  dreary  courts, 
every  stone  of  which,  could  they  speak,  would  chronicle 
.some  fearful  crime,  or  some  melancholy  tale  of  suffering  and 
distress  !  Whether,  indeed,  we  recall  the  time  when  the 
Roman  sentinel  looked  down  from  its  ramparts  on  the  quiet 
waters  below ; — whether  we  identify  ourselves  with  the 
period  when  it  was  the  proud  palace  of  our  Norman  sove- 
reigns, diversified  with  terraced  walks  and  verdant  laby- 
rinths ; — whether  we  conjure  up  the  shadows  of  the  headless 
and  illustrious  dead  who  have  expiated  here  their  patriotism 
or  their  crimes ;  or  whether  we  recall  the  foul  murders  which 
have  been  perpetrated  in  its  fearful  dungeons,  this  memorable 
pile  cannot  fail  to  awaken  a  train  of  thought  and  reflection 
to  which  no  pen  could  do  justice.  But,  before  we  proceed 


CJESAKS  TOWER.  75 

to  touch  on  the  many  heart-stirring  events  with  which  the 
Tower  is  associated,  it  is  necessary  to  give  a  brief  descrip- 
tion of  the  ancient  fortress  itself. 

The  fact  of  a  Roman  fortress  having  existed  on  the  site 
of  the  present  Tower  of  London  has  occasionally  been  called 
in  question,  but  we  believe  without  reason ;  nor  would  we 
willingly  deprive  it  of  one  of  its  most  interesting  associa- 
tions. That  the  White  Tower,  or,  as  it  was  formerly  styled, 
•Csesar's  Tower,*  was  originally  founded  by  Julius  Caesar,  is 
unquestionably  a  fiction,  the  Roman  emperor  never  having 
advanced  so  far  as  London  in  either  of  his  expeditions.  On 
the  other  hand,  that  the  Romans  had  a  fortification  here,  and 
indeed  a  Mint,  at  a  later  period,  there  can  be  little  doubt. 

That  the  Keep  or  White  Tower  is  the  most  ancient  part 
of  the  present  fortress  there  can  also  be  no  question.  It 
was  erected  about  the  year  1078,  by  William  the  Conqueror ; 
the  architect  being  the  celebrated  Gundulph,  Bishop  of 
Rochester,  who  also  built  Rochester  Castle.  In  the  following 
reign  William  Rufus  surrounded  the  Tower  with  a  stone 
wall ;  his  successor,  Henry  the  First,  made  several  other 
important  additions.  According  to  Fitzstephen,  who  wrote 
about  the  year  1180, — "  London  hath  on  the  east  part  a 
Tower  Palatine,  very  large  and  very  strong,  whose  court 
and  walls  rise  up  from  a  deep  foundation:  the  mortar  is 

*  Shakspeare  more  than  once  designates  it  as  Cajsar's  Tower.  In 
"  Richard  the  Second,"  act  v.,  sc.  1,  we  find, — 

"  This  is  the  way 
To  Julius  Csesar's  ill-erected  Tower." 

And,  again,  in  "Richard  the  Third,"  act  iii.,  sc.  1, — 

"  Prince.  Did  Julius  Caesar  build  that  place,  my  lord  ? 

Gloster.  He  did,  my  gracious  lord,  begin  that  place  ; 

Which,  since,  succeeding  ages  have  re-edified. 
Prince.  Is  it  upon  record,  or  else  reported 

Successively  from  age  to  age,  he  built  it  ? 
Euckitir/ham.    Upon  record,  my  gracious  lord." 


76  ENTRANCE  TO  THE  TOWER. 

tempered  with  the  blood  of  beasts."  When  Fitzstephen 
penned  these  lines,  how  little  could  he  have  imagined  how 
symbolical  were  the  materials  of  the  bloody  scenes  which 
were  destined  hereafter  to  be  enacted  in  its  secret  dun- 
geons ! 

"  Ye  Towers  of  Julius,  London's  lasting  shame, 
By  many  a  foul  and  midnight  murder  fed  !" 

The  principal  entrance  to  the  Tower  is  by  three  gates  to 
the  west,  one  within  the  other.  The  first  of  these  opens 
into  a  small  court,  on  the  right  of  which  is  the  Lions' 
Tower,  where  the  royal  menagerie  was  formerly  kept ;  the 
second  opens  to  a  stone  bridge  built  over  the  moat ;  and  at 
the  further  end  is  the  third  gate,  defended  by  a  port- 
cullis, where,  for  centuries,  the  principal  guard  of  the 
Tower,  consisting  of  soldiers  and  warders,  has  always  been 
stationed. 

There  still  exists  a  curious  and  ancient  ceremony  con- 
nected with  the  opening  and  closing  of  the  Tower  gates. 
In  the  morning,  the  yeoman-porter,  attended  by  a  sergeant's 
guard,  proceeds  to  the  Governor's  house,  where  the  keys  of 
the  fortress  are  delivered  to  him.  Hence  he  proceeds  to 
open  the  three  gates,  and  as  the  keys  pass  and  repass  the 
soldiers  on  duty  present  arms.  The  yeoman-porter  then 
returns  to  the  innermost  gate,  and  calls  on  the  warders  in 
waiting  to  take  in  Queen  Victoria's  keys,  on  which  the  gate 
is  opened,  and  the' keys  are  lodged  in  the  warder's  hall  till 
night-time.  At  the  closing  of  the  gates,  the  same  formali- 
ties are  used  as  in  the  morning.  As  soon  as  the  gates  are 
shut,  the  yeoman-porter,  followed  by  a  sergeant's  guard, 
proceeds  to  the  main  guard,  who  are  all  under  arms,  with 
the  officer  upon  duty  at  their  head.  The  usual  challenge 
from  the  main  guard  is — "  Who  comes  here  ?"  To  which 


THE  WHITE  TOWER.  77 

the  yeoman-porter  answers — "Keys."  "What  keys?"  is 
asked.  "  Queen  Victoria's  keys,"  is  the  reply.  The  challenger 
then  returns — "Advance,  Queen  Victoria's  keys."  They 
then  advance,  and  the  yeoman-porter  exclaims — "  God  save 
Queen  Victoria ;"  whereupon  the  guards  answer,  with  loud 
voices — "Amen."  The  yeoman-porter  then  proceeds  to  the 
Governor's  house,  where  the  keys  are  lodged  for  the  night. 

The  principal  bulwarks  in  the  Tower  of  London  are  the 
White  or  Caesar's  Tower ;  the  Bell  Tower ;  the  Beauchamp 
or  Cobham  Tower ;  the  Devereux  Tower ;  the  Bowyer's 
Tower ;  the  Jewel  Tower ;  the  Broad  Arrow  Tower ;  the 
Salt  Tower;  the  Record  or  Wakefield  Tower;  and  the 
Bloody  Tower.  By  a  document  drawn  up  in  1641,  showing 
the  manner  in  which  the  different  buildings  were  appro- 
priated, it  appears  that  at  one  time  as  many  as  eleven 
towers  were  used  as  "prison  lodgings." 

We  have  already  mentioned  that  the  WHITE  TOWER,  or 
Keep,  is  the  most  ancient  part  of  the  fortress.  This  fine 
building  is  of  a  quadrangular  form.  The  walls  are  of  vast 
thickness.  At  each  of  its  four  angles  is  a  lofty  turret,  one 
of  which  was  formerly  used  by  the  learned  Flamstead  as  an 
observatory.  Besides  its  antiquity,  the  White  Tower  is 
especially  an  object  of  attraction,  having  been  formerly  an 
integral  part  of  the  ancient  palace  of  the  Kings  of  Eng- 
land. Its  chapel,  its  hall,  and  its  council-chamber  still 
remain.  In  addition  to  some  capacious  vaults  the  White 
Tower  consists  of  three  stories,  each  of  which  has  its 
particular  interest.  The  ground-floor  consists  of  three 
apartments,  two  of  which  are  of  considerable  size,  while 
the  third  is  not  a  little  remarkable  from  the  peculiarity 
of  its  vaulted  roof,  and  the  appearance  which  it  presents 
of  great  antiquity.  That  these  gloomy  chambers  were  for 
centuries  used  as  prisons  there  can  be  little  doubt.  Here, 


78  CHAMBERS  IN  THE  WHITE  TOWER. 

in  the  reign  of  Queen  Mary,  were  imprisoned  several 
unfortunate  persons  who  were  implicated  in  Sir  Thomas- 
Wyatt's  rebellion,  and  here,  if  we  are  to  place  any  credit  in 
tradition,  Sir  Walter  Kaleigh  composed  his  "  History  of  the 
World." 

The  above  story,  besides  two  other  apartments,  contains 
the  beautiful  private  chapel  dedicated  to  St.  John  the  Evan- 
gelist, in  which  for  centuries  our  sovereigns  and  their  house- 
holds offered  up  their  devotions.  Formerly,  through  many 
a  reign,  it  was  redecorated  and  rebeautified  with  religious 
care  and  at  regal  expense. 

In  the  uppermost  story  of  the  White  Tower,  the  apart- 
ments are  far  loftier  and  more  imposing,  and  also  have  all 
the  appearance  of  being  of  an  ancient  date.  The  largest  of 
them — the  roof  of  which  consists  of  vast  beams  of  timber 
supported  by  massive  pillars  of  wood — is  deeply  interesting, 
as  being,  according  to  tradition,  the  famous  council-chamber 
where  our  sovereigns  sat  at  debate  when  they  held  their 
Court  in  the  fortress.  Here  it  was  that  Richard  the  Second, 
clad  in  all  the  appurtenances  of  royalty,  and  surrounded  by 
"  Dukes,  prelates,  Earls,  and  Barons,"  took  his  crown  from 
his  devoted  head  and  delivered  it  to  the  usurper  Boling- 
broke !  Here  occurred  that  striking  scene  at  the  council- 
table,  when  the  Protector  Gloucester  bared  his  shrivelled 
arm,  and  when,  striking  his  hand  upon  the  table,  the  guard 
rushed  in,  and  hurried  the  unfortunate  Hastings  to  the 
block ;  and  lastly,  here  it  was  that  Anne  Boleyn  stood 
serene  and  beautiful  before  her  judges,  on  that  memorable 
occasion  when  every  cheek  was  blanched  and  every  eye 
was  wet  but  her  own  ! 

The  private  apartments  of  the  palace,  in  which  for  nearly 
five  hundred  years  the  sovereigns  of  England  experienced 
their  joys,  their  sorrows,  or  their  bridal  pleasures,  were 


THE  BELL  TOWER. 


situated  at  the  south-east  angle  of  the  fortress,  having  an 
immediate  communication  with  the  chapel  and  the  state 
rooms  in  the  White  Tower.  The  bedchamber  and  the 
private  closet  of  the  sovereign  were  in  the  Lanthorn  Tower, 
of  which  no  vestige  now  remains,  but  which'  formerly  ad- 
joined the  great  gallery,  and  overlooked  the  private  garden 
of  the  palace. 

Immediately  on  the  left  hand,  after  entering  the  fortress, 
is  the  BELL  TOWER,  which  derives  its  name  from  containing 
the  alarm  bell  of  the  garrison.  Here  was  confined  the  pious 
and  venerable  John  Fisher,  Bishop  of  Rochester,  for  refusing 
to  take  the  oath  of  supremacy  to  Henry  the  Eighth,  and 
hence  he  was  led  forth  to  the  scaffold  on  Tower  Hill.  The 
apartment  in  which  he  was  imprisoned  was  probably  the 
gloomy  and  vaulted  room  on  the  ground  floor.  His 
dungeon  is  described  as  having  been  miserable  in  the  ex- 
treme ;  indeed,  such  was  the  treatment  to  which  he  was 
subjected  that;  though  in  his  eightieth  year,  he  was  allowed 
no  covering  but  rags,  and  these  scarcely  sufficient  to  hide 
his  nakedness. 

Over  a  chimney-piece  in  an  apartment  adjoining  the  Bell 
Tower,  not  many  years  since  was  discovered  the  following 
interesting  inscription  :  —  "  Upon  ike  tiventy  daye  of  June, 
in  the  yere  of  ourLordathousandefive  hundred  three  score 
and  Jive,  ivas  the  Right  honorable  countes  of  Lennox  Grace 
commettede  prysoner  to  thys  lodgynge  for  the  marreage  of 
her  sonne,  My  Lord  Henry  Darnle  and  the  Quene  of  Scot- 
land. Here  is  their  names  iliat  do  ivayte  upon  her  noble 
Grace  in  thys  place.  M.  Elizh.  Hussey,  M.  Jane  Baily, 
M.  Elizh.  Chamberlain,  M.  Robert  Partington,  Edward 
Cuffin,  anno  Domini  1566." 

According  to  tradition  it  was  in  the  Bell  Tower  that 
Queen  Elizabeth  was  lodged  when  committed  to  the  Tower 


SO  THE  BEAUCHAMP  TOWER, 

by  her  sister,  Queen  Mary ;  yet,  inasmuch  as  we  are  ex- 
pressly told  that  her  prison  adjoined  the  Queen's  garden,  in 
which  she  was  occasionally  allowed  to  take  the  air,  the 
legend  loses  somewhat  of  its  importance.  The  Bell  Tower, 
which  has  long  formed  a  part  of  the  residence  of  the  Lieu- 
tenant-Governor of  the  Tower,  was  erected  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  the  Eighth.  It  contains  little  that  is  interesting  with 
the  exception  of  an  apartment  on  the  second  floor,  in  which 
Guy  Fawkes  and  the  other  conspirators  concerned  in  the 
Gunpowder  Plot  underwent  their  examination.  A  bust  of 
James  the  First,  as  well  as  a  marble  monument  in  the  wall — 
containing  an  account  of  the  conspiracy  in  Latin,  and  the 
names  of  the  conspirators  and  examining  commissioners — are 
still  preserved  in  the  apartment. 

The  BEAUCHAMP  or  COBHAM  TOWEK,  which  appears  to 
have  been  erected  about  the  reign  of  King  John,  is  highly 
interesting,  as  having  been  apparently  the  principal  state 
prison  in  the  fortress,  and  consequently  the  spot  where  the 
most  illustrious  criminals  were  probably  immured.  In  the 
reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth  it  was  known  as  the  Beauchamp 
Tower,  but  subsequently,  in  consequence  of  some  members 
of  the  Cobham  family  having  been  confined  there  for  their 
share  in  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt's  rebellion,  it  became  more  fami- 
liarly known  as  the  Cobham  Tower.  The  principal  apart- 
ment, which  is  of  large  size  and  on  the  first  floor,  has 
two  small  cells  adjoining  it,  in  which  probably  the  prisoners 
were  secured  for  the  night.  It  is  difficult  to  enter  this  in- 
teresting apartment  without  feelings  of  deep  emotion.  The 
walls  are  literally  covered  with  inscriptions  engraved  by  the 
hands  of  a  succession  of  unhappy  prisoners ;  some  of  them 
bearing  names  familiar  to  us  by  their  misfortunes  and 
violent  deaths ;  others  breathing  the  purest  piety ;  others 
bewailing  in  some  touching  sentence  their  miserable  lot. 


THE  BE  A  V  CHAMP  TO  WER.  81 

For  instance,  let  us  take  the  following  inscription  by  Charles 
Bailly,  a  young  man  who  involved  himself  in  the  ruined  for- 
tunes of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  :  — 

"  Principium  sapientice  timor  Dei,  I.H.S.  X.P.8.  Be 
friend  to  one.  Be  enemye  to  none.  Anno  D.,  1571,  10 
Sept.  The  most  unhappy  man  in  the  world  is  he  that  is  not 
pacient  in  adversities  ;  for  men  are  not  killed  with  the  ad- 
versities they  have;  but  with  the  impatience  ivhich  they 
suffer. 

"  Tout  vient  apoient,  quy  peult  attendre.  Gli  sospiri  ne 
son  testimoni  veri  dell'  angoscia  mia.  ^Et.  29.  Charles 


Again,  how  touching  is  the  following  inscription,  the 
original  of  which  is  in  Italian  !  "  Since  fortune  hath  chosen 
tliat  my  hope  should  go  to  the  wind  to  complain,  I  wish  the 
time  were  destroyed,  my  planet  being  ever  sad  and  unpro- 
pitious.  William  Tyrrel,  1541." 

Over  the  fireplace  is  an  inscription  engraved  by  the  hand 
of  the  unfortunate  Philip  Earl  of  Arundel,  who  languished 
here  for  many  years  till  released  by  death  on  the  19th  of 
November,  1595.  The  inscription  runs  :  — 

"  Quanto  plus  afflictionis  pro  Christo  in  hoc  sceculo,  tanto 
plus  glories  cum  Christo  infuturo.  Arundell.  June  22, 
1587. 

"  Gloria  et  honore  eum  coronasti,  Domine, 
In  Memoria  eterna  erit  Justus. 
At  .  .  ." 

Lastly,  there  is  a  well-executed  piece  of  sculpture  by  John 
Dudley,  Earl  of  Warwick  —  eldest  son  of  John  Duke  of 
Northumberland  —  who  was  imprisoned  here  for  his  share  in 
the  attempt  to  place  the  crown  on  the  head  of  his  sister-in- 
law,  Lady  Jane  Grey.  His  name,  spelt  in  the  fashion  of  the 
age,  is  encircled  by  a  border  of  oak-sprigs,  roses,  and  other 

VOL.   II.  6 


82  THE  DEYEREUX  TOWER. 

flowers,  having  above  it  his  family  badge  of  the  lion  and  bear 
and  ragged  staff.  There  is  also  an  inscription  of  four  lines  in 
verse,  part  of  which  is  obliterated.  The  Earl  was  afterwards 
arraigned  for  high  treason  in  Westminster  Hall,  when,  to- 
gether with  his  father  and  the  Marquis  of  Northampton,  he 
was  condemned  to  death,  but  died  in  the  Tower  shortly  after 
receiving  his  sentence. 

The  word  "JANE"  on  the  walls  of  the  principal  apartment  in 
the  Beauchamp  Tower  has  occasionally  excited  great  attention, 
as  having  been  supposed  to  be  the  autograph  of  the  beautiful 
and  accomplished  Lady  Jane  Grey.  From  the  circumstances, 
however,  of  her  high  rank  and  her  near  relationship  to  the 
Queen,  it  seems  far  more  likely  that  she  was  imprisoned 
either  in  the  royal  apartments,  or  in  the  private  residence  of 
the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower.  Whether,  indeed,  as  has  been 
suggested,  the  name  may  have  been  engraved  by  her 
husband,  Lord  Guildford  Dudley — a  fellow-prisoner  in  the 
Tower  with  his  brother,  the  Earl  of  Warwick — or  by  some 
other  affectionate  relative  or  adherent,  is  a  question  never 
likely  to  be  decided.  At  all  events,  whatever  apartment 
may  have  been  occupied  by  Lady  Jane  Grey,  she  is  known 
to  have  inscribed  on  the  wall  of  it  the  following  couplet,  of 
which  unfortunately  no  trace  can  now  be  discovered : — 

"Non  aliena  putes  homini  quse  obtingere  possunt, 
Sors  liodierna  mihi,  eras  erit  ilia  tibi." 

The  DEVEREUX,  anciently  called  the  DEVELIN  TOWER, 
situated  at  the  north-west  angle  of  the  fortress,  has  every 
appearance  of  being  of  a  much  earlier  date  than  the  Beau- 
champ  Tower.  Distinguished  by  its  massive  walls,  its  gloomy 
cells,  and  iron  gratings,  it  seems  for  centuries  to  have  been 
set  apart  as  a  state  prison.  It  owes  its  present  name  from 
having  been  the  prison  of  Robert  Devereux,  Earl  of  Essex> 
the  ill-fated  favourite  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 


THE  JEWEL  TOWER.  83 

The  BOWYER'S  TOWER  derives  its  name  from  having  been 
formerly  the  residence  of  the  master  and  provider  of  the 
King's  bows.  Of  this  Tower  the  only  remains  are  the  base- 
ment story,  consisting  of  a  vaulted  and  gloomy  apartment, 
the  walls  of  which  also  are  of  great  thickness.  According  to 
tradition,  it  was  in  this  dismal  chamber  that  George  Duke 
of  Clarence  was  drowned  in  a  butt  of  Malmsey. 

The  JEWEL  TOWER,  or,  as  it  was  styled  in  the  days  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  the  MARTIN  TOWER,  flanks  the  north-east 
angle  of  the  Tower.  It  derives  its  name  from  having  been 
long  the  repository  of  the  Regalia.  It  was  here  that  Blood 
made  his  attempt  to  steal  the  crown  jewels.  Of  this  ancient 
tower,  also,  little  is  left  but  the  basement  floor,  the  roof  of 
which  is  vaulted  and  groined  in  the  elegant  style  of  archi- 
tecture that  prevailed  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Third.  It 
was  formerly  one  of  the  principal  prison-lodgings  in  the 
Tower,  containing,  till  modem  alterations  barbarously  swept 
them  away,  some  interesting  inscriptions  engraved  by  unfor- 
tunate prisoners  on  its  walls. 

The  BROAD  ARROW  TOWER,  consisting  of  two  stories,  and 
apparently  of  the  same  date  as  the  Beauchamp  Tower,  also 
formed  one  of  the  ancient  prisons  of  the  fortress.  The  most 
interesting  part  is  its  basement  floor,  consisting  of  a  dismal 
chamber,  and  a  still  more  dismal  cell  about  six  feet  long  and 
about  four  feet  wide.  On  the  walls  are  still  to  be  traced 
some  interesting  inscriptions,  engraved  by  the  guilty,  the 
penitent,  or  the  oppressed. 

The  SALT  TOWER,  a  small  circular  tower,  adjoined  in  former 
days  the  east  end  of  what  was  called  the  King's  gallery,  and 
probably  constituted  an  integral  part  of  the  ancient  palace. 
The  ground  floor  consists  of  a  vaulted  dungeon,  connected  by 
a  small  spiral  staircase  of  stone  with  the  upper  chamber.  On 
the  walls  of  the  former  there  still  exist  many  melancholy 

G— 2 


84  THE  BLOODY  TO WER. 

memorials  of  those  who  languished  within  this  gloomy 
prison  house. 

The  RECORD  TOWER,  formerly  known  as  the  HALL  TOWER, 
and  sometimes  as  the  WAKEFIELD  TOWER,  is  a  large  circular 
building,  the  lower  part  of  which  is  apparently  of  the  reign 
of  William  Rufus,  and,  with  the  exception  of  the  White 
Tower,  is  unquestionably  the  most  ancient  part  of  the  for- 
tress. In  this  Tower,  from  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth, 
and  probably  from  a  still  earlier  period,  the  ancient  records 
of  the  kingdom  were  preserved.  If  we  are  to  place  any  faith 
in  tradition,  it  was  in  the  fine  and  lofty  chamber  on  the 
second  story  that  the  "  meek  usurper,"  Henry  the  Sixth,  met 
with  his  untimely  end. 

We  might  mention  several  other  towers  which  anciently 
formed  a  part  of  the  bulwarks  of  the  royal  fortress,  but  either 
all  remains  of  them  have  passed  away,  or  they  possess  no 
particular  interest.  We  will  content  ourselves,  therefore, 
with  noticing  not  the  least  remarkable  one, — the  Bloody 
Tower. 

The  BLOODY  TOWER,  formerly  called  the  GARDEN  TOWER, 
appears,  from  its  style  of  architecture,  to  have  been  built 
about  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Third.  The  chief  interest 
attached  to  this  tower  is  derived  from  the  popular  belief 
that  in  one  of  its  gloomy  chambers  Edward  the  Fifth  and 
his  infant  brother,  Richard  Duke  of  York,  were  smothered 
by  order  of  their  inhuman  uncle,  Richard  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  from  which  circumstance  it  has  been  supposed 
to  derive  its  name  of  the  Bloody  Tower.  True  it  is  that  in 
the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second  a  discovery  was  made  in  the 
Tower  of  the  bones  of  two  youths  corresponding  in  size  with 
the  two  children  of  Edward  the  Fourth,  but  it  was  not,  as 
has  generally  been  conjectured,  beneath  the  basement  story 
of  the  Bloody  Tower  that  they  were  found,  but  at  the  foot 


THE  TOWER  CHAPEL.  85 

of  an  ancient  staircase  on  the  south  side  of  the  White  Tower. 
Moreover,  it  was  not  till  the  latter  end  of  the  reign  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  that  the  Bloody  Tower  received  its  present  name, 
and  accordingly,  as  Mr.  Bailey  conjectures  in  his  history  of 
the  Tower  of  London,  it  seems  far  more  likely  to  have  been 
so  called  from  having  been  the  scene  of  one  of  the  many 
"  foul  and  midnight  murders"  which  disgraced  the  sixteenth 
century ;  not  impossibly  from  the  tragical  end  of  Henry  Earl 
of  Northumberland,  who  destroyed  himself  in  the  Tower  in 
1585,  but  whose  death  was  popularly  attributed  to  the  hand 
of  the  midnight  assassin. 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  spot  in  the  ancient  fortress  is 
the  "  Tower  Chapel,"  erected  in  the  reign  of  Edward  the  First, 
and  not  inappropriately  dedicated  to  St.  Peter  ad  Vincula. 
Who  is  there  who  has  ever  entered  that  narrow  portal, 
through  which  so  many  of  the  headless  dead  have  been, 
carried  in  their  bloody  shrouds  to  their  last  home,  without 
feelings  of  the  deepest  emotion  ?  How  many  high  hopes ! 
what  turbulent  passions  !  what  fair  forms  !  rest  calmly  be- 
neath our  feet !  Here  for  a  time  rested  the  headless  trunk  of 
Sir  Thomas  More,  and  here  lie  the  remains  of  the  amiable 
and  undaunted  martyr,  John  Fisher,  Bishop  of  Rochester. 
In  front  of  the  altar  sleep  the  two  ill-fated  wives  of  Henry 
the  Eighth,  the  gentle  and  beautiful  Anne  Boleyn,  and  the 
no  less  beautiful  adulteress,  Catherine  Howard ;  while  be- 
tween them — in  the  same  grave  with  his  turbulent  and  am- 
bitious brother,  Lord  Seymour  of  Sudley,  and  side  by  side 
with  his  powerful  rival,  John  Dudley,  Duke  of  Northumber- 
land— sleeps  the  Great  Protector  Duke  of  Somerset. 

Not  far  off  rest  the  headless  remains  of  George  Lord  Roch- 
ford,  who  was  involved  in  the  fate  of  his  innocent  sister,  Anne 
Boleyn.  Here  also  lies  the  wise  and  powerful  minister  of 
Henry  the  Eighth,  Thomas  Cromwell,  Earl  of  Essex.  Sin- 


86  THE  TOWER  CHAPEL. 


gular  it  is  that  in  no  history  can  we  trace  the  burial-place  of 
the  gifted  and  ill-fated  Lady  Jane  Grey,  or  of  her  ambitious 
father,  Henry  Grey,  Duke  of  Suffolk,  who  was  executed  a  few 
days  after  his  accomplished  daughter.  Inasmuch,  however, 
as  her  young  husband,  Lord  Guildford  Dudley,  who  was  be- 
headed on  the  same  day  with  her,  was  interred  in  the  Tower 
Chapel,  it  is  not  improbable  that  Lady  Jane  and  her  tur- 
bulent father  were  laid  in  the  same  grave. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  day  on  which  death  terminated  the 
dreadful  sufferings  of  Sir  Thomas  Overbury,  the  remains  of 
that  accomplished  courtier  and  poet  were  committed  almost 
stealthily  to  the  earth  in  the  Tower  Chapel.  Here  lies  the 
mutilated  corpse  of  Robert  Devereux,  Earl  of  Essex,  the  ill- 
fated  favourite  of  Queen  Elizabeth ;  while,  under  the  com- 
munion-table, reposes  one  no  less  gifted  and  ambitious,  the 
unfortunate  James  Duke  of  Monmouth.  Lastly,  here  lie 
buried  more  than  one  of  the  gallant  and  devoted  men  who 
lost  their  lives  in  the  cause  of  the  ill-fated  Stuarts.  Here 
repose,  in  one  grave,  the  intrepid  Lord  Balmerino,  the  gay 
and  handsome  Lord  Kilmarnock,  and  the  arch- traitor,  Simon 
Lord  Lovat. 

"  Pitied  by  gentle  minds  Kilmarnock  died, 
The  brave,  Balmerino,  were  on  thy  side." 

Some  years  since,  on  removing  the  pavement  of  the  chapel, 
their  coffin-plates,  bearing  the  following  inscriptions,  were 
discovered,  and  are  now  preserved  in  the  building. 

Arthurus 

Dominus  de  Balmerino 

Decollatus  18°  die  Augusti  1746. 

^3Etatis  suse  58°. 

Willielmus 
Comes  de  Kilmarnock 
Decollatus  18°  die  Augusti  1746. 
^Etatis  suse  42°. 


THE  TOWER  CHAPEL.  87 

Simon  Domimts 

Frazer  de   Lovat 

Decollat.  Apr'.  9.  1747. 

JEtat.  suse  80. 

In  the  days  when  our  sovereigns  and  their  households 
performed  their  orisons  in  the  Tower  Chapel,  we  find  it  con- 
stantly re-beautified  and  re-decorated  by  successive  monarch* 
It  then  contained,  besides  rich  stalls  for  the  King  and  Queen, 
two  chancels,  one  dedicated  to  the  Holy  Virgin  and  the  other 
to  St.  Peter.  Moreover,  it  was  adorned  with  a  fine  Cross  and 
with  pictures  and  statues  of  saints;  it  had  its  two  altars 
profusely  ornamented,  and  its  windows  filled  with  beautiful 
stained  glass.  In  vain,  however,  we  now  search  for  any 
trace  of  the  magnificence  of  the  past.  But  that  which  prin- 
cipally disappoints  us  on  entering  the  Tower  Chapel,  is  the 
absence  of  all  memorials  to  the  illustrious  dead  who  sleep 
beneath  our  feet,  and  whose  misfortunes  have  been  familiar 
to  us  from  our  childhood.  Not  one  is  to  be  found! 

But  though  the  resting-places  of  the  headless  dead  remain 
unrecorded  in  the  Tower  Chapel,  it  contains  more  than  one 
interesting  memorial  to  persons  more  fortunate  or  less  ambi- 
tious who  died  peaceably  in  their  homes.  There  is  a  fine 
monument  to  Sir  Richard  Blount ;  another  to  his  son,  Sir 
Michael,  and  a  third  to  Sir  Richard  Cholmondeley,  who 
fought  under  the  Earl  of  Surrey  at  Flodden  Field.  All 
three  of  these  persons  held  in  their  day  the  appointment  of 
Lieutenant  of  the  Tower.  But  the  monument  to  which  we 
turn  with  the  greatest  interest  is  a  small  tablet  of  stone  in 
the  floor  at  the  upper  end  of  the  nave,  to  the  memory  of 
Talbot  Edwards,  the  old  man  who  was  gagged  and  stabbed 
by  the  ruffian  Blood,  when  the  latter  made  his  famous 
attempt  to  seize  the  crown  jewels.  "Here  lieih  y*  body  of 
Talbot  Ediuards,  gent.,  late  keeper  of  His  Ma^s  Regalia,  who 
dyed  ye  30w  of  September,  1674,  ayed  80  yeares  and  9 


THE  TRAITORS*  GATE. 


moneths."  The  old  man  lived  to  see  himself  neglected  and 
his  assailant  pensioned  ! 

The  open  space  in  front  of  the  Chapel  is  scarcely  less 
interesting  than  the  chapel  itself.  When  the  rage  of  the 
Protector,  Richard  Duke  of  Gloucester,  sent  the  unfortunate 
Lord  Hastings  from  the  Council-table  to  the  block  "  without 
time  for  confession  or  repentance,"  it  was  hither  that  he  was 
hurried  by  the  guard,  and  here  beheaded  on  a  "  log  of  tim- 
ber," which  his  executioners  found  conveniently  at  hand. 
Here  the  lovely  Anne  Boleyn  submitted  her  slender  neck  to 
the  stroke  of  the  executioner.  Here  the  no  less  beautiful 
Queen,  Catherine  Howard,  was  beheaded,  together  with  the 
unprincipled  Lady  Rochford,  the  confidante  of  her  amours. 
Here  perished  the  pious  and  gentle  Lady  Jane  Grey ;  and, 
lastly,  here  it  was  that  the  Earl  of  Essex,  the  ill-fated 
favourite  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  submitted  serenely  and  piously 
to  his  fate.  In  the  "  yard  belonging  to  the  chapel "  also  lie 
buried  Sir  Francis  Weston,  Henry  Norris,  and  William 
Brereton,  the  three  reputed  lovers  of  Anne  Boleyn,  who 
having  been  involved  in  her  ruin,  were  beheaded  a  few  days 
before  her  on  Tower  Hill. 

Before  we  proceed  to  notice  some  of  the  more  distinguished 
prisoners  whose  misfortunes  or  whose  crimes  have  thrown  so 
dark  and  deep  an  interest  over  the  dungeons  of  the  Tower,  let 
us  pause  for  a  moment  at  the  famous  Traitors'  Gate.  As  we 
look  down  upon  that  gloomy  water-entrance,  what  a  crowd  of 
melancholy  recollections  rushes  to  our  minds  !  How  many 
illustrious  persons  who  wantoned  so  lately  in  the  full  pride 
of  pomp  and  power,  have  been  hurried  through  this  dark 
passage,  never  more  to  return !  How  often,  when  its  drip- 
ping walls  have  received  the  armed  barge,  and  have  echoed 
back  the  last  melancholy  splash  of  the  advancing  oars,  has 
the  increasing  darkness  sent  the  colour  from  the  cheek  of 


KING  STEPHEN. 


the  prisoner,  and  struck  terror  into  his  heart !  Only  within 
a  few  years  have  its  ancient  wooden  gates,  blackened  by  age 
and  the  action  of  the  water,  been  removed.. 

The  first  person  recorded  to  have  been  committed  a 
prisoner  to  the  Tower  was  the  famous  soldier-prelate,  Ralph 
Flambard,  Bishop  of  Durham,  whose  extortions  and  oppres- 
sions rendered  him  so  unpopular  as  minister  and  first 
favourite  of  William  Rufus.  Uniting  in  his  own  person  the 
appointments  of  High  Treasurer,  Justiciary,  and  Bishop  of 
Durham,  he  sank  at  once,  on  the  accession  of  Henry  the 
First,  from  the  highest  position  which  could  be  held  by  a 
subject  to  be  the  inmate  of  a  prison.  Here  he  continued  to 
live  a  life  of  revelry  and  intemperance,  till  his  friends  having 
contrived  to  convey  a  rope  to  him  in  a  flagon  of  wine,  he  let 
himself  down  from  the  tower  in  which  he  was  imprisoned, 
and,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  bruises,  reached  the  ground 
uninjured.  He  subsequently  managed  to  reach  the  court  of 
Robert  of  Normandy,  whom  he  afterwards  assisted  in  his 
fruitless  endeavours  to  obtain  possession  of  the  English 
throne. 

It  is  not  till  the  succeeding  reign  of  King  Stephen  that  we 
discover  any  positive  evidence  of  the  Tower  having  been  a 
royal  residence.  Certain  it  is,  however,  that  this  monarch  was 
residing  here  in  1140,  when,  according  to  William  of  Majmes- 
bury,  he  kept  his  court  in  the  Tower  during  Whitsuntide 
with  great  magnificence.  In  this  reign  we  find  the  custody 
of  the  Tower  conferred  on  Geoffrey  de  Mandeville,  Earl  of 
Essex,  grandson  of  the  powerful  Geoffrey  de  Mandeville  who 
had  accompanied  the  Conqueror  to  England.  De  Mande- 
ville, turning  traitor  to  his  royal  master,  retained  the  for- 
tress for  the  Empress  Maude ;  nor  was  it  till  he  was  made 
prisoner  at  St.  Albans,  in  1143,  that  the  Tower  again  came 
into  the  possession  of  King  Stephen. 


-90  LONGCHAMP,  BISHOP  OF  ELY. 

During  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Second  we  find  but  little 
interest  associated  with  the  Tower,  nor  is  it  ascertained  that 
he  ever  kept  his  court  here.  It  may  be  mentioned,  however, 
that  early  in  this  reign  the  Tower  was  in  the  custody  of  the 
celebrated  Thomas  a  Becket. 

When,  in  1189,  Richard  the  First  departed  for  the  Holy 
Land,  he  conferred  the  important  post  of  custodian  of  the 
Tower  on  his  Chancellor,  Longchamp,  Bishop  of  Ely.  The 
Bishop,  foreseeing,  perhaps,  the  opposition  which  he  was 
likely  to  encounter  in  his  career  of  haughtiness  and  oppres- 
sion, raised  round  the  fortress  an  "  embattled  wan  of  stone," 
far  stronger  than  that  of  William  Rufus,  and  surrounded  the 
whole  with  a  "  broade  and  deepe  ditch."  At  length,  having 
by  repeated  acts  of  violence  and  extortion  completely  in- 
censed the  nation,  he  was  cited  by  a  convocation  of  barons 
and  prelates,  headed  by  the  King's  brother,  Prince  John,  to 
appear  before  them  on  a  certain  day  at  Loddon  Bridge. 
Instead,  however,  of  obeying  the  summons,  he  shut  himself 
up  with  his  retainers  in  the  Tower,  till,  finding  himself 
environed  by  a.  powerful  army,  and  foreseeing  that_resistance 
was  of  little  avail,  lie  appeared  at  night  on  the  walls  of  the 
eastern  part  of  the  fortress,  and  held  a  parley  with  the  prin- 
cipal nobles  who  headed  the  conspiracy.  The  result  was, 
that  on  their  guaranteeing  him  his  safety,  with  permission  to 
retire  to  the  Continent,  he  consented  to  surrender  the  Tower, 
which  was  immediately  afterwards  entered  by  Prince  John 
and  his  followers.  The  charge  of  the  fortress  was  forth- 
with conferred  on  the  Archbishop  of  Rouen,  in  whose 
custody  it  remained  till  the  return  of  King  Richard  from  the 
East. 

King  John  frequently  held  his  court  at  the  Tower,  and 
-also  added  to  its  strength.  In  1215  it  underwent  a  siege 
by  the  Barons,  but  when  the  Magna  Charta  was  signed  at 


HENRY  THE  THIRD,       .  91 

Runny  me  de  in  that  year  it  was  still  in  the  possession  of  the 
King.  One  of  the  stipulations  of  the  Charter  was  the  sur- 
render of  the  Tower  of  London  to  the  Barons  till  such  time 
as  the  King  should  have  fulfilled  the  articles  of  agreement 
which  he  had  signed  with  his  people,  and  accordingly  it  was 
delivered  in  trust  to  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  Stephen 
Langton. 

Henry  the  Third  not  only  added  considerably  to  the 
strength  of  the  Tower,  but  it  was  also  to  his  taste  for  the 
fine  arts  that  his  successors  were  indebted  for  that  internal 
comfort  and  magnificence  which  for  four  centuries  afterwards 
rendered  this  palatial  fortress  a  suitable  residence  for  the 
.sovereigns  of  England.  As  a  specimen  of  the  architectural 
taste  of  Henry  the  Third,  we  may  mention  the  beautiful 
chapel  erected  under  his  auspices  in  the  White  Tower.  In 
the  records  of  the  period  are  numerous  entries  of  the  sums 
spent  by  Henry  in  beautifying  and  strengthening  the  Tower, 
the  items  comprising  also  the  cost  of  statues  and  paintings. 
One  especial  order  enjoins  that  the  King's  chamber  of 
state  shall  be  decorated  with  paintings  from  the  story  of 
Antiochus. 

As  the  Tower  was  the  spot  where  Henry  passed  the  days 
of  his  youth,  so  also  was  it  the  scene  of  more  than  one  of  his 
fierce  struggles  with  his  imperious  barons,  and  of  more  than 
one  eventful  incident  in  his  chequered  career.  Here  it  was 
that  his  sister  Isabel  was  kept  in  restraint  till  her  marriage 
with  the  Emperor  Frederick  in  1235.  Here  the  unfortunate 
King  sought  safety  during  his  contest  with  his  powerful 
nobles.  Here  at  one  time  we  find  him  flying  in  the  dead  of 
night,  and  at  another  presiding  over  festivals  of  gorgeous 
magnificence.  Lastly,  here  it  was  that  he  signed  those 
humiliating  conditions,  which  delivered  over,  not  only  the 
Tower  of  London,  but  every  other  fortress  in  the  kingdom, 


92  HUBERT  DE  BURGH,  EARL  OF  KENT. 

to  the  custody  of  the  Barons.  From  this  period  the  Tower  re- 
mained in  the  possession  of  that  domineering  faction  till  the 
battle  of  Evesham,  when  the  success  of  the  King's  gallant 
son,  afterwards  Edward  the  First,  restored  the  royal 
authority. 

During  this  reign  we  find  more  than  one  person  of  dis- 
tinction a  prisoner  in  the  Tower.  Here,  in  1232 — to  thfr 
very  fortress  of  which  he  had  recently  been  the  dreaded 
governor — was  committed  that  powerful  Baron  and  dis- 
tinguished soldier  and  statesman,  Hubert  de  Burgh,  Earl  of 
Kent.  The  valuable  services  which  he  had  rendered  to  King 
Richard  and  King  John,  as  well  as  to  Henry  himself,  de- 
served a  very  different  requital.  In  1216,  when  Louis,  the 
French  Dauphin,  invaded  England  at  the  invitation  of  the 
rebels,  De  Burgh  had  successfully  defended  the  castle  of 
Dover  with  a  garrison  consisting  only  of  his  own  servants 
and  a  hundred  and  forty  soldiers.  Again,  when  a  large  fleet 
under  the  conduct  of  the  celebrated  Eustace  the  Monk  wa& 
approaching  the  shores  of  Kent  with  supplies  from  France, 
the  Earl  set  sail  from  Dover,  and  with  only  eight  ships  under 
his  command,  dispersed  the  enemy,  and  took  captive  and  be- 
headed their  leader.  At  the  death  of  King  John,  De  Burgh 
had  hastened  to  serve  his  young  sovereign,  Henry  the  Third ; 
nor  at  first  had  he  any  reason  to  complain  that  his  services 
were  rewarded  with  a  niggard  hand.  In  1219,  on  the  death 
of  William  Marshall,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  he  was  appointed 
guardian  of  the  King  and  kingdom ;  the  following  year  he 
married  Margaret,  sister  of  the  King  of  Scotland;  and  in  1228 
was  created  Earl  of  Kent  and  appointed  Chief  Justiciary  of 
England  for  life.  Lastly,  in  1231,  he  was  made  Chief  Justi- 
ciary of  Ireland,  and  Constable  of  the  castles  of  Odiham  and 
Windsor,  and  of  the  Tower  of  London.  Such  an  accumulation 
of  dignities  and  honours  naturally  raised  him  many  enemies, 


HUBERT  DE  BURGH,  EARL  OF  KENT.  93 

-and  accordingly  through  their  machinations  he  was  deprived 
by  his  sovereign  of  all  his  honours,  appointments,  and 
estates,  and  compelled  to  seek  refuge  in  the  sanctuary  of 
Merton  Priory,  in  Surrey.  Hence  he  removed  to  a  palace 
of  the  Bishop  of  London,  in  Essex,  where  he  had  remained 
no  long  time  when,  being  informed  that  an  armed  force  was 
approaching  to  seize  his  person,  he  flew  to  an  adjoining 
chapel,  where  his  enemies  found  him  standing  before  the 
altar  with  the  cross  and  host  in  his  hands.  In  spite,  how- 
ever, of  the  sacredness  of  the  place,  he  was  dragged  from  the 
sanctuary,  and  with  every  circumstance  of  ignominy  carried, 
with  his  legs  tied,  on  a  wretched  jade  to  the  Tower.  The 
cruel  treatment  which  he  here  experienced — his  second  flight 
into  the  sanctuary  in  Essex — the  solitary  nights  which  he 
spent  at  the  altar  deprived  of  food  and  of  all  intercourse 
with  his  kind — the  approach  of  starvation  which  compelled 
him  to  deliver  himself  up  to  his  enemies — his  re-imprison- 
ment in  the  Tower — the  cruelties  to  which  he  was  subjected 
in  the  dungeons  of  Devizes  Castle — his  romantic  escape 
therefrom — the  further  attempts  made  to  starve  him  to 
death  on  his  seeking  refuge  before  the  high  altar  of  the 
church  of  St.  John  at  Devizes — and  lastly,  his  being  carried 
in  safety  to  the  borders  of  Wales  by  a  band  of  devoted 
friends — all  these  are  incidents  which  partake  rather  of  the 
character  of  romance  than  of  matter-of-fact  history  of  real 
life.  De  Burgh  subsequently  leagued  himself  with  those 
nobles  who  took  up  arms  to  redress  the  wrongs  of  their 
country,  and,  having  been  included  in  the  general  amnesty 
^t  Gloucester,  was  restored  to  a  great  portion  of  his  estates. 
He  died  in  1243,  and  was  buried  in  the  church  of  the  Friars 
Preachers  in  London. 

Another  illustrious   prisoner  in  the   Tower  about  this 
period  was  Griffin,  eldest  son  of  Llewellyn  Prince  of  Wales. 


94  WILLIAM  MARISH  IN  THE  TOWER. 

He  had  passed  four  miserable  years  a  -prisoner  in  the  for- 
tress of  his  hereditary  foe,  when,  having  found  means  to 
elude  the  vigilance  of  his  keepers,  he  succeeded  in  fabri- 
cating a  rope  of  the  clothes  and  furniture  of  his  bed,  which 
he  made  fast  to  the  battlements  of  the  turret  in  which  he 
was  confined.  In  the  dead  of  night  he  made  his  perilous, 
attempt  to  escape,  when  the  rope  unhappily  broke,  and  he 
was  discovered  the  next  morning  a  lifeless  corpse  with  his 
head  and  neck  crushed  beneath  his  shoulders. 

The  last  person  of  any  celebrity  confined  to  the  Tower  in 
the  reign  of  Henry  the  Third  was  William  Marish,  or  de 
Marescis,  who,  though  descending  from  a  long  line  of  ances- 
tors, was  content  to  establish  himself  as  the  chief  of  a  band 
of  daring  freebooters  in  the  Isle  of  Lundy,  where  he  con- 
tinued to  be  long  an  object  of  terror  to  the  inhabitants  of. 
the  western  coast  of  England.  At  length,  notwithstanding 
the  strength  of  his  island  stronghold,  he  was  overpowered 
and  committed,  loaded  with  irons,  to  the  Tower,  whence  in 
due  time  he  was  led  forth  to  be  hanged,  disembowelled,  and 
to  have  his  quarters  exposed  in  the  four  principal  cities  of 
the  kingdom. 

It  was  in  accordance  with  the  martial  tastes  of  Edward 
the  First  to  add  considerably  to  the  strength  01  the  Tower. 
He  greatly  enlarged  the  moat,  and  threw  up  outworks,  espe- 
cially towards  the  western  entrance  ;  since  which  but  little 
has  been  added  to  the  military  defences  of  the  celebrated 
fortress.  The  "mighty  victor"  would  seem  to  have  seldom 
held  his  court  in  the  Tower,  yet  its  history  during  his  reign 
is  far  from  devoid  of  interest.  Here  it  was,  when  the  unfor- 
tunate Jews  were  accused  of  adulterating  the  coin  of  the 
realm,  that  six  hundred  were  huddled  together  at  one  time, 
of  whom  two  hundred  and  eighty  were  hanged  in  London 
alone.  Hither,  too,  the  conquest  of  Wales  and  the  subjection 


EXECUTION  OF  WILLIAM  WALLACE.  95- 

of  Scotland  conducted  many  a  noble  and  knightly  prisoner. 
Here  the  timid  Baliol  wept  over  his  fallen  greatness,  and 
here  languished  the  flower  of  Scottish  chivalry,  comprising 
the  Earls  of  Athol,  Ross,  and  Monteith,  Comyn  of  Badenoch, 
Richard  Syward,  John  Fitz-Geoffrey,  Andrew  de  Moravia, 
John  de  Inch  Martin,  David  Fitz-Patric  de  Graham,  Alex- 
ander de  Meners,  and  Nicholas  Randolf,  all  of  whom  had 
distinguished  themselves  by  the  valour  with  which  they 
had  fought  the  battles  of  their  country.  Lastly,  here  it  was 
that  the  glorious  patriot,  William  Wallace,  was  led  a  prisoner 
in  1305,  and  hence  he  was  led  forth,  tied  to  a  horse's  tail,  to 
expiate  on  the  common  gallows,  under  circumstances  of 
peculiar  horror,  his  only  offence,  a  generous  ardour  to  revenge 
the  wrongs  of  his  country.  His  body  was  removed  from  the 
gallows  before  life  was  extinct ;  his  bowels  were  taken  out 
and  burnt ;  his  head  was  set  on  London  Bridge,  and  his 
quarters  sent  to  Scotland  to  arouse  the  tears  and  curses  of 
his  affectionate  countrymen.  His  gallant  companion  in 
arms,  Sir  Simon  Frazer,  and  other  brave  Scots,  suffered  the 
same  fate.  Among  them  was  the  Earl  of  Athol,  whose  royal 
descent  proved  of  no  avail,  and  who  also  met  his  fate  under 
circumstances  of  peculiar  cruelty. 

It  was  while  Edward  was  pursuing  his  victorious  course 
in  Scotland,  in  1303,  that  his  treasury  in  Westminster  Abbey, 
as  we  before  remarked,  was  broken  into  and  robbed  of  the 
large  sum,  it  is  said,  of  one  hundred  thousand  pounds.  Ed- 
ward immediately  committed  the  whole  of  the  sacred  esta- 
blishment— consisting  of  the  abbot,  the  monks,  and  their 
servants — to  the  Tower  of  London.  To  the  Tower  also,  in 
this  reign — when  their  vice  and  enormities  led  to  the  break- 
ing up  of  their  establishments  in  1307 — were  committed  the 
Grand  Master  of  the  Knight  Templars,  and  all  the  members 
of  their  powerful  Order  south  of  the  Tweed. 


96  TOWER  PRISONERS. 

The  ill-fated  Edward  the  Second  appears  to  have  occa- 
sionally kept  his  court  in  the  Tower.  Here  his  Queen  gave 
birth  to  her  eldest  daughter — from  this  circumstance  styled 
Joan  of  the  Tower — and  here  we  find  him  more  than  once 
taking  refuge  when  threatened  by  the  fury  of  his  exaspe- 
rated subjects.  After  his  murder,  his  young  son,  Edward 
the  Third,  was  kept  closely  watched  here  by  his  mother, 
Queen  Isabel,  and  her  paramour,  Lord  Mortimer.  It  was 
soon  evident,  however,  that  the  fiery  spirit  of  Edward  the 
First  had  descended  to  his  young  grandson.  By  his  orders 
Mortimer  was  suddenly  arrested  in  Nottingham  Castle,  and 
with  his  two  sons  was  thrust,  loaded  with  chains,  into  the 
darkest  dungeons  of  the  Tower.  Here  the  unworthy  favour- 
ite remained  till  he  was  led  forth  to  be  hanged  at  the  Elms 
in  Smithfield. 

With  Edward  the  Third  not  only  does  the  Tower  appear 
to  have  been  a  favourite  residence,  but  during  his  reign  we 
find  it  connected  with  some  of  the  proudest  events  in  our 
history.  Here,  after  his  great  and  brilliant  victories  in 
France  and  Scotland,  were  conducted  as  prisoners  the  chi- 
valry of  both  those  countries,  including  the  French  and 
Scottish  monarchs  themselves.  The  first  prisoner,  however, 
of  importance  in  this  reign  appears  to  have  been  the  gallant 
John  Earl  of  Murray,  one  of  the  most  devoted  supporters  of 
the  Scottish  throne,  who  was  taken  prisoner  in  1336.  In 
those  days  the  liberation  of  a  prisoner  of  high  rank  was 
procurable  only  by  the  payment  of  a  large  ransom,  and  ac- 
cordingly when  the  Earl  was  delivered  by  Edward  to  the 
safe-keeping  of  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  the  latter  received 
a  written  permission  to  "  do  with  him  as  most  for  his  ad- 
vantage." Murray  being  unable  to  pay  the  large  ransom  re- 
quired for  his  freedom,  remained  in  the  Tower  for  four  years 
when,  singularly  enough,  on  Salisbury's  being  made  prisoner 


IMPRISONMENT  OF  DAVID  BRUCE.  97 

in  France,  he  was  exchanged,  on  the  intercession  of  the  King 
of  Scotland,  for  his  former  keeper. 

The  year  1346  witnessed  the  surrender  to  the  victorious 
arms  of  Edward  of  the  important  town  of  Caen  in  Nor- 
mandy, "  a  goodly  town,"  we  are  told,  "  full  of  drapery  and 
other  merchandise,  and  rich  burgesses,  and  noble  ladies  and 
damsels,  and  fair  churches,  and  one  of  the  fairest  castles  in 
all  Normandy."  Here  were  captured  the  Count  d'Eu,  con- 
stable of  France,  the  Count  de  Tankerville,  and  other  influ- 
ential citizens  of  Caen,  who,  after  having  been  conducted  in 
triumph  through  the  streets  of  London,  were  lodged  in  the 
Tower. 

The  same  year  London  witnessed  a  far  more  splendid 
triumph,  and  the  royal  fortress  opened  its  gates  to  receive 
still  more  illustrious  captives.  At  the  battle  of  Neville's 
Cross,  near  Durham,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  English  the 
Scottish  sovereign,  David  Bruce,  as  well  as  the  Earls  of  Fife, 
Monteith,  Wigton,  and  Carrick,  the  Lord  Douglas,  and  fifty 
other  powerful  chieftains,  all  of  whom  were  sent  prisoners 
to  the  Tower.  Their  escort  consisted  of  twenty  thousand 
men;  the  Scottish  monarch,  mounted  on  a  lofty  black 
charger,  being  a  conspicuous  object  in  the  procession.  On 
his  entrance  into  the  City  he  was  met  by  the  different  com- 
panies clad  in  their  respective  liveries,  by  whom  he  was 
conducted  with  all  honours  through  the  crowded  streets 
to  the  gates  of  the  Tower,  where  he  was  formally  and 
respectfully  delivered  over  to  the  custody  of  Sir  John 
Darcy,  the  constable  of  the  fortress.  The  unfortunate 
monarch  remained  a  prisoner  in  England  for  as  many  as 
eleven  years,  when  he  was  ransomed  for  the  vast  sum  of 
one  hundred  thousand  marks.  Many  of  his  gallant  com- 
panions in  arms  also  suffered  long  confinements,  while  the 
Earls  of  Fife  and  Monteith,  in  consequence  of  their  having 
VOL.  II.  7 


98         THE  CALAIS  PRISONERS  IN  THE  TOWER. 

previously  acknowledged  fealty  to  Edward,  were  sentenced 
to  death.  The  former  owed  his  escape  to  his  affinity  to  the 
blood-royal,  but  Monteith  was  hanged  and  quartered  agree- 
ably to  his  sentence,  and  his  head  was  afterwards  exposed  on 
Tower  Hill. 

Other  and  more  brilliant  successes  followed  the  victory  of 
Neville's  Cross.  In  1347,  after  a  siege  of  nearly  eleven 
months,  the  city  of  Calais  surrendered  to  the  victorious 
arms  of  Edward.  Finding  it  impossible  to  hold  out  any 
longer,  its  brave  defenders — followed  by  the  principal  bur- 
gesses— proceeded  one  by  one  bareheaded  to  the  camp  of  the 
English  monarch ;  the  former  with  their  swords  transversed, 
and  the  latter  with  a  rope  in  each  hand,  to  denote  that  their 
lives  were  at  the  disposal  of  the  victor.  Edward,  moved 
with  compassion  at  their  melancholy  condition,  not  only 
spared  their  lives,  but  immediately  ordered  food  to  be  sent 
into  the  town  to  relieve  the  hunger  of  their  suffering  fellow- 
citizens.  Subsequently,  headed  by  their  valiant  leader,  John 
de  Vienne,  a  knight  of  Burgundy,  they  were  led  through  the 
streets  of  London  to  the  Tower.  The  same  year  was  con- 
ducted to  the  Tower  the  celebrated  Charles  de  Blois,  who  so 
long  and  valiantly  asserted  his  claims  to  the  dukedom  of 
Brittany.  He  continued  a  prisoner  for  nine  years,  when  he 
obtained  his  release  on  the  payment  of  a  large  ransom.  He 
fell  at  the  battle  of  Auray,  in  1364,  maintaining  to  the  last 
his  pretensions  to  the  ducal  throne. 

The  splendid  victory  of  Poictiers,  in  1357,  filled  the  Tower 
with  still  more  illustrious  captives.  The  triumphant  entry 
of  Edward  the  Black  Prince  into  London,  in  that  year,  must 
have  presented  a  scene  of  striking  magnificence  to  which  no 
description  could  do  justice.  The  principal  captives  who 
graced  his  triumph  consisted  of  John  King  of  France,  his 
son  Philip,  four  other  Princes,  eight  Earls,  and  many  others 


JOHN  OF  FRANCE  IN  THE  TOWER.  99 

of  the  chief  nobility  of  France.  The  French  King  on  his 
first  arrival  was  confined  in  the  Savoy,  where,  we  are  told, 
he  "  kept  his  house  a  long  season,  and  was  frequently  visited 
by  the  King  and  Queen,  who  made  him  great  feast  and 
cheer."  During  the  subsequent  absence,  however,  of  Ed- 
ward in  France,  in  1359,  it  was  thought  necessary  to  remove 
him  to  a  place  of  greater  security,  and  accordingly  he  was 
conducted  to*  the  Tower.  "  To  be  more  sure  of  them,"  writes 
Froissart,  "  the  French  King  was  set  in  the  Tower  of  Lon- 
don, and  his  young  son  with  him,  and  much  of  his  pleasure 
and  sport  restrained,  for  he  was  then  straitlier  kept  than  he 
was  before."  The  French  King  remained  a  prisoner  till  the 
following  year,  when  the  treaty  of  Bretigny  restored  him  to 
his  countiy  and  his  throne. 

There  remain  to  be  noticed  only  two  other  prisoners  of 
distinction  who  were  committed  to  the  Tower  in  the  reign 
of  Edward  the  Third.  These  were  William  de  Thorp,  Chief 
Justice  of  the  Common  Pleas,  condemned  to  death  for 
bribery  and  corruption,  and  the  young,  graceful,  and  gallant 
Yaleran,  Earl  of  St.-Paul,  who  had  been  taken  prisoner  in  a 
skirmish  near  Lyques,  in  1375.  The  former  narrowly 
escaped  an  ignominious  death  on  the  scaffold.  St.-Paul  was 
more  fortunate.  After  a  long  confinement  in  the  Tower,  he 
was  removed  to  the  "  fayre  castell  of  Wynsore,"  where  the 
Princess  of  Wales,  and  her  daughter  the  Lady  Maude — 
"thefayrest  ladye  in  all  Englande" — were  then  residing. 
St.-Paul  and  the  Lady  Maude  sometimes  met  at  "  daunsynge 
and  carollyng ;"  the  result  being  that  an  attachment  sprung 
up  between  them,  which  subsequently  ended  in  their  union. 

The  history  of  the  Tower  during  the  reign  of  Richard 
the  Second  presents  matter  of  interest  widely  different  from 
that  which  had  characterised  it  during  the  reign  of  his  war- 
like predecessor.  A  few  days  before  the  ceremony  of  his 

7-2 


100       PROCESSION  OF  RICHARD  THE  SECOND. 

coronation,  being  then  only  in  his  eleventh  "year,  he  pro- 
ceeded from  the  palace  of  Richmond  to  the  Tower,  where 
he  remained  till  the  appointed  day,  the  15th  of  July,  1377. 
He  then  issued  forth  from  the  portals  of  the  Tower  "  clad 
in  white  garments"  and  accompanied  by  the  principal 
nobles ;  Sir  Simon  Burleigh  holding  the  sword  of  state 
before  him,  and  Sir  Nicholas  Bond,  on  foot,  leading  the 
King's  horse  by  the  bridle.  In  the  open  space  before  the 
Tower  he  was  greeted  by  an  immense  assemblage  of  nobles 
and  knights,  together  with  the  Lord  Mayor,  sheriffs,  and 
aldermen  of  London  in  their  scarlet  robes,  who,  forming 
themselves  into  procession,  accompanied  the  young  King  to 
Westminster.  "  The  noise  of  trumpets  and  other  instru- 
ments," writes  Holinshed,  "  was  marvellous.  The  city  was 
adorned  in  all  sorts  most  rich.  The  water  conduits  ran  with 
wine  for  the  space  of  three  hours  together.  In  the  upper 
end  of  Cheape  was  a  certain  castle  made  with  four  towers, 
out  of  the  which  castle,  on  two  sides  of  it,  there  ran  forth 
wine  abundantly.  In  the  towers  were  placed  four  beautiful 
virgins,  of  stature  and  age  like  to  the  King,  apparelled  in 
white  vestures,  in  every  tower  one,  who  blew  in  the  King's 
face,  at  his  approaching  near  to  them,  leaves  of  gold ;  and 
as  he  approached  also,  they  threw  on  him  and  his  horse 
florins  of  gold  counterfeit.  When  he  was  come  before  the 
castle,  they  took  cups  of  gold,  and  filling  them  with  wine 
at  the  spouts  of  the  castle,  presented  the  same  to  the  King 
and  to  his  nobles.  On  the  top  of  the  castle,  betwixt  the 
four  towers,  stood  a  golden  angel,  holding  a  crown  in  his 
hands,  which  was  so  contrived  that  when  the  King  came 
he  bowed  down  and  offered  to  him  the  crown." 

Among  the  prisoners  of  the  Tower  during  this  reign  we 
discover  many  illustrious  names.  In  1386,  when  the  power- 
ful confederacy  under  the  King's  uncles,  the  Dukes  of  York 


EXECUTION  OF  THE  EARL  OF  ARUNDEL.       101 

and  Gloucester,  had  reduced  the  unfortunate  monarch  to  the 
last  extremity,  we  find  many  of  his  personal  friends  and 
advisers  committed  to  the  dungeons  of  that  very  fortress 
in  the  saloons  of  which  they  had  so  recently  been  welcomed 
as  the  cherished  guests  of  their  sovereign.  Among  these 
was  the  gallant  and  accomplished  Sir  Simon  Burleigh, 
whom  the  Black  Prince  had  paid  the  high  compliment  of 
selecting  to  be  the  companion  and  adviser  of  his  heir.  It 
was  to  no  purpose  that  the  Queen  fell  on  her  knees  before 
the  inexorable  Gloucester,  and  with  floods  of  tears  implored 
him  to  save  the  life  of  one  so  honoured  and  beloved.  Sir 
Simon  was  sentenced  to  be  hanged,  drawn,  and  quartered, 
but  being  a  knight  of  the  Garter  the  sentence  was  after- 
wards changed  to  beheading,  which  was  accordingly  carried 
into  effect  on  Tower  Hill. 

When  at  length  the  confederacy  broke  up,  Richard  was 
enabled  to  avenge  the  death  of  his  faithful  adviser.  Of  its 
leaders,  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  perished  in  a  mysterious 
manner  in  the  castle  at  Calais ;  the  Earls  of  Arundel  and 
Warwick,  Lord  Cobham,  and  Sir  John  Cheyney  were  com- 
mitted prisoners  to  the  Tower ;  Warwick  was  sentenced  to 
banishment  in  the  Isle  of  Man.  Arundel  was  less  fortu- 
nate. That  turbulent  and  once  powerful  nobleman  was 
condemned  to  be  hanged,  drawn,  and  quartered ;  a  sentence 
which,  in  consideration  of  his  high  rank,  the  King  com- 
muted to  the  axe  and  the  block.  On  the  day  of  his  con- 
demnation he  was  hurried  from  Westminster  to  Tower  Hill 
with  his  hands  tied  ignominiously  behind  him,  and  there, 
without  having  been  allowed  a  moment  for  prayer,  was 
hurried  into  eternity.  Among  the  spectators  the  unfortu- 
nate Earl  happened  to  distinguish  his  own  son-in-law  the 
Earl  of  Nottingham,  and  his  nephew  the  Earl  of  Kent,  to 
whom  he  seized  the  opportunity  of  addressing  a  few  re- 


102  REBELLION  OF  WAT  TYLER. 

proachful  words.  "  It  would  have  more  beseemed  you,  my 
lords,"  he  said,  "  to  have  been  absent  on  this  occasion ;  but 
the  time  will  come  when  as  many  will  marvel  at  your  mis- 
fortunes as  do  at  mine  at  this  time." 

During  the  memorable  rebellion  of  Wat  Tyler,  we  find 
King  Richard,  with  about  six  hundred  of  the  principal 
nobles  and  churchmen  in  the  realm,  taking  refuge  in  the 
Tower,  the  fortress  being  very  soon  invested  by  an  infuriated 
rabble,  described  by  Froissart  as  yelling  and  shouting  "  as 
though  all  the  devylles  of  hell  had  been  amonge  them."  At 
length,  all  supplies  being  cut  off  from  the  royal  party,  the 
King  consented  to  grant  the  rebels  a  conference  at  Mile 
End.  Thither,  accordingly,  having  previously  heard  mass 
in  the  Tower,  he  was  on  his  way,  when  a  body  of  the  rebels 
forced  a  passage  into  the  fortress,  and  committed  the  most 
atrocious  barbarities.  Simon  Sudbury,  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury ;  the  Chancellor,  Sir  Robert  Hales ;  the  Treasurer ; 
the  King's  confessor,  and  others,  were,  dragged  from  the 
chapel  where  they  had  taken  refuge,  and  put  to  the  sword. 
Stow,  speaking  of  the  murder  of  the  Archbishop,  observes, 
— "  There  lay  his  body  unburied  [on  Tower  Hill]  all  that 
Friday,  and  the  morrow,  till  the  afternoon,  none  daring  to 
deliver  his  body  to  sepulture  :  his  head  these  wicked  took, 
and  nailing  thereon  his  hood,  they  fixed  it  on  a  pole,  and 
set  it  on  London  Bridge,  in  place  where  before  stood  the 
head  of  Sir  John  Minstarworth."  Other  atrocities  were 
committed  by  the  exasperated  mob.  They  not  only  burst 
open  and  pillaged  the  royal  apartments,  but  entering  the 
chamber  of  the  Queen's  mother,  treated  her  with  the  most 
wanton  cruelty.  The  sequel  of  the  story  is  well  known. 
The  King  met  the  rebels  at  Smithfield,  when  the  gallant 
Lord  Mayor  of  London,  Sir  William  Walworth,  struck  their 
daring  leader,  Wat  Tyler,  to  the  ground,  and  thus  sent 


TO  URN  AM E NT  A  T  SMITHFIELD.  103 

dismay  into  the  hearts  of  his  followers.  Wat  Tyler's  exe- 
cution speedily  followed,  when  the  head  of  the  Archbishop 
was  taken  down  from  London  Bridge  and  that  of  the  rebel 
chief  set  up  in  its  place. 

In  1389  we  find  the  Tower  associated  with  a  very  mag- 
nificent tournament,  at  which  many  of  the  most  celebrated 
knights  of  France  and  Germany  presented  themselves.  On 
the  first  day,  called  the  feast  of  challenge,  "  there  issued," 
writes  Froissart,  "  out  of  the  Tower  of  London,  first,  three- 
score coursers  apparelled  for  the  jousts,  and  on  every  one  an 
esquire  of  honour  riding  a  soft  pace ;  and  then  issued  out 
threescore  ladies  of  honour  mounted  on  fair  palfreys,  riding 
on  the  one  side,  richly  apparelled ;  and  every  lady  led  a 
knight  with  a  cheque  of  silver,  which  knights  were  ap- 
parelled to  joust;  and  thus  they  came  riding  along  the 
streets  of  London  with  great  number  of  trumpets  and  other 
minstrelsy,  and  so  came  to  Smithfield,  where  the  King  and 
Queen  and  many  ladies  and  demoiselles  were  ready  in 
chambers  richly  adorned  to  see  the  jousts."  At  night,  we 
are  told,  "  there  was  goodly  dancing  in  the  Queen's  lodging, 
in  the  presence  of  the  King  and  his  uncles,  and  other  Barons 
of  England,  and  ladies  and  demoiselles,  continuing  till  it 
was  day,  which  was  time  for  every  person  to  draw  to  their 
lodgings."  When,  in  1396,  King  Richard  chose  a  second 
wife,  Isabel,  daughter  of  Charles  the  Sixth  of  France,  it 
was  to  the  Tower  that  she  was  conducted  on  her  landing  in 
England,  and  hence  she  subsequently  proceeded  in  great 
state  to  her  coronation  at  Westminster. 

It  was  to  the  Tower  that  the  ill-fated  Richard  was  brought 
a  prisoner  at  the  close  of  his  reign,  and  here  it  was  that 
he  formally  abdicated  his  throne  in  favour  of  Henry  Duke 
of  Lancaster.  The  scene  as  described  by  Froissart  is  striking 
in  the  extreme.  "  The  Duke  of  Lancaster,"  he  writes,  "  ac- 


104       ABDICATION  OF  RICHARD  THE  SECOND. 

companied  with  lords,  dukes,  prelates,  earls,  barons,  and 
knights,  and  with  the  notablest  men  in  London,  and  of  other 
good  towns,  rode  to  the  Tower,  and  there  alighted.  Then 
King  Richard  was  brought  into  the  hall,  apparelled  like  a 
king  in  his  robes  of  estate,  his  sceptre  in  his  hand,  and  his 
crown  on  his  head.  Then  he  stood  up  alone,  not  holden  nor 
stayed  by  any  man,  and  said  aloud, — '  I  have  been  King  of 
England,  Duke  of  Aquitaine,  and  lord  of  Ireland  above 
twenty-two  years,  which  signory,  royalty,  sceptre,  crown, 
and  heritage  I  clearly  resign  here  to  my  cousin,  Henry  of 
Lancaster :  and  I  desire  him  here  in  this  open  presence,  in 
entering  on  the  same  possession,  to  take  this  sceptre ;'  and 
so  delivered  it  to  the  Duke,  who  took  it.  Then  King  Richard 
took  his  crown  from  his  head  with  both  his  hands,  and  set  it 
before  him,  and  said,  '  Fair  cousin,  Henry  Duke  of  Lancaster, 
I  give  and  deliver  you  this  crown,  wherewith  I  was  crowned 
King  of  England,  and  therewith  all  the  right  thereto  de- 
pending.' "  Richard  was  shortly  afterwards  removed  to  the 
castle  of  Leeds  in  Kent,  and  thence  to  Pomfret  Castle,  where 
-he  met  with  his  mysterious  and  untimely  end.  His  body, 
having  been  conveyed  to  London,  lay  one  night  in  the  Tower 
previously  to  its  interment  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

The  only  other  prisoner  of  importance  who  appears  to 
have  been  confined  in  the  Tower  during  the  reign  of  Richard 
the  Second,  was  the  great  poet  Chaucer.  Here  it  was — fol- 
lowing the  example  of  Boethius,  who  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances wrote  his  famous  work,  the  "  Consolations  of 
Philosophy" — that  Chaucer  composed  his  prose-work  "  The 
Testament  of  Love." 

The  history  of  the  Tower  during  the  reign  of  Henry  the 
Fourth  presents  but  few  incidents  of  particular  interest. 
Henry,  however,  unquestionably  resided  here  in  the  early 
period  of  his  reign,  and  hence  issued  forth  in  magnificent 


THE  TOWER  UNDER  HENRY  THE  FOURTH.      105 

state  to  his  coronation  in  Westminster  Abbey.  He  was  at- 
tended on  this  occasion  by  his  eldest  son,  Prince  Henry,  by 
six  dukes,  six  earls,  eighteen  barons,  and  nine  hundred 
knights  and  esquires.  The  King  himself,  clad  in  a  short 
tunic  of  cloth  of  gold,  with  the  garter  on  his  left  leg,  rode  on 
a  white  courser  with  his  head  uncovered ;  all  the  streets 
through  which  he  passed  being  hung  with  tapestry  and 
arras,  and  the  conduits  flowing  with  wine.  The  number  of 
horsemen  who  formed  the  cavalcade  is  said  to  have  amounted 
to  no  less  than  six  thousand. 

The  discovery  of  the  conspiracy  formed  at  Oxford  for 
taking  away  the  King's  life  led  to  the  arrest  and  execution 
of  some  of  the  first  nobles  in  the  kingdom.  The  Earls  of 
Kent  and  Salisbury  were  put  to  death  at  Cirencester ;  the 
Earl  of  Gloucester  and  Lord  Lumley  shared  the  same  fate  at 
Bristol,  and  Sir  Thomas  Blount  and  nine-and-twenty  other 
knights  and  esquires  at  Oxford.  Many  others  were  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower,  among  whom  were  the  Earl  of  Hunt- 
ingdon, Thomas  Merks,  Bishop  of  Carlisle,  and  Sir  John 
Shelley.  The  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  King  Henry's  brother-in- 
law,  having  been  captured  near  his  own  castle  at  Pleshey, 
was  executed  after  an  imprisonment  of  only  five  days,  and 
his  head  fixed  on  London  Bridge.  The  sacred  office  held  by 
the  Bishop  of  Carlisle  probably  saved  his  life.  This  was  the 
gallant  and  noble-minded  churchman,  who,  almost  alone,  had 
stood  forward  as  the  champion  of  his  former  sovereign,  King 
Richard,  and  had  undauntedly  opposed  the  infamous  pro- 
ceedings which  led  to  Richard's  deposition.  From  the  Tower 
the  Bishop  was  transferred  to  the  custody  of  the  Abbot  of 
Westminster,  under  whose  charge  he  shortly  afterwards 
died. 

Two  other  prisoners  in  the  Tower  in  this  reign  were 
;  Griffin,  son  of  the  celebrated  Owen  Glendower,  and  the 


106       AGIN  COURT  PRISONERS  IN  THE  TOWER. 

young  and  accomplished  James  the  First  of  Scotland.  The 
latter,  in  the  lifetime  of  his  father,  King  Robert  the  First, 
was  on  his  way  to  be  educated  in  France,  when  he  was  cap- 
tured at  sea  and  committed  by  order  of  King  Henry  to  the 
Tower.  After  suffering  an  imprisonment  of  nearly  eighteen 
years,  he  contracted  his  romantic  marriage  with  Lady  Jane 
Beaufort,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Somerset,  and  cousin  of 
Henry  the  Sixth,  shortly  after  which  time  he  obtained  his 
release,  and  was  permitted  to  return  to  Scotland. 

Although  during  the  glorious  reign  of  Henry  the  Fifth  the 
Tower  appears  to  have  been  but  rarely  used  as  a  regal  resi- 
dence, its  story  continues  to  be  full  of  interest.  Here,  at  the 
first  dawn  of  the  Reformation,  the  brave  and  virtuous  Lord 
Cobham  twice  suffered  imprisonment  on  account  of  his  reli- 
gious principles.  On  the  first  occasion,  after  having  been 
sentenced  to  be  hanged  and  burnt  asWi  obstinate  heretic 
and  traitor,  he  was  fortunate  enough  to  effect  his  escape 
from  the  Tower,  and,  notwithstanding  the  vast  rewards 
which  were  offered  for  his  apprehension,  continued  for  nearly 
four  years  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  his  enemies.  At  last,  in 
December,  1417,  this  excellent  man  was  taken  prisoner  by 
Lord  Powis  on  the  borders  of  Wales,  when,  having  been  re- 
conducted  to  his  former  prison,  the  Tower,  and  refusing  to 
recant  his  religious  convictions,  his  original  sentence  was 
carried  into  execution  at  St.  Giles's-in-the-Fields. 

The  victory  gained  by  Henry  the  Fifth  at  Agincourt  was, 
in  1415,  the  means  of  crowding  the  Tower  with  many  pri- 
soners of  high  rank.  Here  were  imprisoned  the  Duke  of 
Orleans,  father  of  Louis  the  Twelfth  of  France  ;  the  Duke  de 
Bourbon  ;  Louis  Earl  de  Vendome  ;  Marshal  Boucicaut,  and 
the  Count  d'Eu,  all  of  whom  had  been  taken  prisoners  on 
the  field  of  Agincourt.  The  Duke  de  Bourbon  and  Marshal 
Boucicaut  died  in  captivity ;  the  Earl  de  Vendome  obtained 


CHARLES  DUKE  OF  ORLEANS.       107 

his  release  from  the  Tower  in  1423,  and  was  placed  under 
the  custody  of  Sir  John  Cornwall ;  in  1435  the  Count  d'Eu 
was  also  released  and  given  in  charge  to  the  Earl  of  Morton. 
The  Duke  of  Orleans  remained  a  prisoner  in  England  till 
1440,  when  be  was  released  on  the  payment  of  a  ransom 
amounting  to  £50,000.  During  his  captivity  in  this  country 
he  solaced  himself  with  writing  his  volume  of  poems  entitled 
"  Podsies  de  Charles  Due  d'Orldans,"  more  than  one  of  which 
is  said  to  have  been  composed  in  the  Tower  of  London.* 

Many  of  the  Scottish  nobility — including  the  Earl  of 
Crawford,  Alexander  Lord  Gordon,  William  Lord  Ruth- 
ven,  William  Lord  Aberdalgy,  James  Lord  Calder,  Walter 
Lord  Dirleton,  and  William  Lord  Abernethy — were  also  con- 
fined in  the  Tower  in  this  reign  ;  these  persons  having  been 
given  up  as  hostages  for  the  payment  of  the  sum  of  £40,000, 
which  had  been  demanded  as  the  cost  of  King  James's  en- 
tertainment and  maintenance  while  a  prisoner  in  England. 
Some  of  the  Scotch  noblemen  were  afterwards  exchanged  for 
others  of  their  countrymen,  while  others,  less  fortunate,  re- 
mained in  captivity  for  many  years. 

On  the  breaking  out  of  Cade's  rebellion  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  the  Sixth,  a  strong  garrison  was  placed  in  the  Tower 

*  The  frontispiece  to  the  third  volume,  which  is  a  copy  of  an  ancient 
drawing  preserved  in  the  British  Museum,  is,  to  quote  the  words  of  Mr. 
Hepworth  Dixon,  "of  peculiar  interest ;  in  the  first  place,  as  being  the 
oldest  view  of  the  Tower  extant ;  in  the  second  place,  as  fixing  the  exact 
chamber  in  the  White  Tower  in  which  the  poet  was  confined,  and  dis- 
playing dramatically  the  life  which  he  led.  First  we  see  the  Prince  at  his 
desk,  composing  his  poems,  with  his  gentlemen  in  attendance,  and  his 
guards  on  duty.  Next  we  observe  him  leaning  on  a  window-sill,  gazing 
outwards  into  space.  Then  we  have  him  at  the  foot  of  the  White  Tower, 
embracing  the  messenger  who  brings  him  the  ransom.  Again  we  see  him 
mounting  his  horse.  Then  we  have  him,  and  his  friendly  messenger, 
riding  away  from  the  Tower.  Lastly,  he  is  seated  in  a  barge,  which  lusty 
rowers  are  pulling  down  the  stream,  for  the  boat  which  is  to  carry  him  to 
France." — Athenaeum  for  July  21,  1866. 


108  SIEGE  OF  THE  TOWER. 

under  the  command  of  Lord  Scales,  while,  in  order  to 
appease  the  popular  fury,  "Lord  Say  was  committed  a  pri- 
soner within  its  walls.  Elated  by  success,  Cade  and  his 
followers  proceeded  to  lay  siege  to  the  royal  fortress,  in 
which  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the  Chancellor,  and 
several  other  persons  of  high  rank  had  taken  refuge.  For 
some  time  the  City  continued  to  be  a  frightful  scene  of  plun- 
der, cruelty,  and  rapine ;  nor  was  it  till,  at  the  suggestion  of 
the  Bishop  of  Winchester,  a  general  pardon  under  the  Great 
Seal  was  promised  to  all  offenders,  that  tranquillity  was 
restored  to  the  affrighted  metropolis.  Cade,  however,  was 
excepted  from  the  general  amnesty,  and  shortly  afterwards 
.suffered  the  penalty  of  his  crime. 

In  1460,  we  find  Lord  Scales  besieged  in  the  Tower  by 
the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  Lord  Cobham,  ai^cl  Sir  John  "Wenlock. 
The  fortress,  however,  continued  to  hold  out  for  Henry  till 
the  King  was  made  prisoner  the  following  year,  when  Lord 
Scales,  in  endeavouring  to  effect  his  escape,  was  taken 
prisoner  and  slain.  The  various  successes  and  reverses 
which  attended  the  arms  of  the  opposing  factions  of  York 
and  Lancaster,  and  the  circumstances  which  raised  Edward 
the  Fourth  to  the  throne,  are  well  known.  Henry,  after 
the  fatal  battle  of  Hexham,  had  wandered  for  some  time  in 
disguise  on  the  borders  of  Scotland,  till  having  been  betrayed 
into  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  he  was  ignominiously  con- 
ducted to  one  of  the  prisons  of  that  very  fortress  in  the 
regal  halls  of  which  he  had  formerly  reigned  the  envied  and 
all-powerful  lord.  Here  he  remained  till  1470,  when  the 
revolution  effected  by  the  Earl  of  Warwick  forced  King 
Edward  into  a  temporary  exile,  and  for  a  brief  period 
restored  Henry  to  his  rights.  He  was  immediately  removed 
from  the  solitary  rooms  in  which  he  was  confined  to  the 
royal  apartments,  where  he  was  shortly  afterwards  waited 


EDWARD  THE  FOURTH.  10» 

upon  in  great  state  by  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  the  Earls  of 
Warwick  and  Shrewsbury,  Lord  Stanley,  and  other  noble- 
men of  high  rank.  Thence,' clad  in  a  long  robe  of  blue  velvet, 
and  with  the  crown  on  his  head,  he  proceeded  in  solemn 
state  to  St.  Paul's,  where,  amidst  the  hollow  shouts  of  the 
fickle  populace,  he  returned  thanks  for  the  extraordinary 
deliverance  from  the  power  of  his  enemies. 

But  a  fresh  storm  was  brooding  over  the  head  of  the  ill- 
fated  monarch.  The  return  of  Edward  from  his  brief  exile,, 
and  the  signal  victory  obtained  by  him  at  Barnet,  were  the 
means  of  King  Henry  being  re-conducted  to  his  old  prison 
in  the  Tower,  where  he  was  committed  to  the  charge  of 
Anthony  Wydvile,  Earl  Rivers.  In  the  mean  time  Edward 
had  marched  his  forces  to  give  battle  to  the  devoted  and 
dauntless  Queen  Margaret,  who,  with  her  young  son 
Edward,  had  recently  landed  at  Wey mouth  from  France. 
The  opposing  armies  encountered  each  other  on  the  field  of 
Tewkesbury,  the  result  of  which  is  well  known.  Young 
Edward  having  been  taken  prisoner  was  inhumanly  put  to 
death,  and  on  the  21st  of  May,  1471,  King  Edward  returned 
to  the  capital  in  triumph.  A  few  days  afterwards  the  un- 
fortunate Henry  was  found  dead  in  the  Tower. 

Shortly  after  the  battle  of  Tewkesbury,  the  noble-minded 
Margaret — whom  the  tragic  events  of  a  few  days  had  ren- 
dered childless  and  husbandless — was  conducted  to  a  miser- 
able prison  in  the  Tower.  Here  she  remained  a  prisoner  till 
1475,  when,  in  accordance  with  the  treaty  o£Pecquigny,  she 
obtained  her  release  on  the  payment  of  £50,000. 

Among  the  remarkable  persons  confined  in  the  Tower  in 
the  reign  of  King  Henry  is  said  to  have  been  Owen  Tudor, 
grandfather  to  King  Henry  the  Seventh.  Here  also  was 
imprisoned  William  de  la  Pole,  Earl  of  Suffolk,  the  prime 
minister  and  declared  favourite  of  Margaret  of  Anjou,  now 


110      WILLIAM  DE  LA  POLE,  EARL  OF  SUFFOLK. 

principally  remembered  from  his  connection  with  the  loss  of 
many  of  the  splendid  territorial  acquisitions  which  England 
had  won  from  her  hereditary  foe,  and  especially  from  the 
discomfiture  which  he  received  from  Joan  d'Arc  beneath  the 
walls  of  Orleans.  It  was  nearly  twenty  years  after  this 
time  that  the  Duke  fell  a  victim  to  the  popular  clamour 
which  attributed  to  him  every  misfortune  that  had  befallen 
England  during  the  unfortunate  reign  of  the  imbecile  Henry. 
He  was  doubtless  a  bad  man  and  a  bad  minister,  but  he  was 
devoid  neither  of  moral  nor  personal  courage.  Accordingly, 
aware  that  articles  of  impeachment  were  being  prepared 
against  him  in  the  House  of  Commons,  he  boldly  rose  in  his 
seat  in  the  House  of  Lords  and  endeavoured  to  overawe  his 
enemies  by  the  undaunted  manner  in  which  he  asserted  his 
own  innocence  and  insisted  on  the  claims  which  his  services 
and  those  of  his  family  had  entailed  on  the  gratitude  of  the 
public.  The  Commons  of  England,  however,  were  not  to  be 
turned  from  their  purpose,  and  consequently,  on  the  28th  of 
January,  1450,  the  powerful  minister  was  committed  to  the 
Tower,  whence,  on  the  9th  of  March  following,  he  was  brought 
to  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Lords.  It  was  expected  that  his 
condemnation  would  immediately  have  followed,  but,  to  the 
surprise  of  all  men,  the  King,  doubtless  at  the  instigation  of 
Queen  Margaret,  took  the  law  into  his  own  hands,  and  dis- 
pensing with  the  formalities  of  a  trial,  banished  him  the  king- 
dom for  five  years.  The  hatred  of  the  people,  however,  was 
not  to  be  pacified.  On  his  passage  from  Dover  to  Calais  he 
was  seized  by  a  vessel  belonging  to  the  Duke  of  Exeter,  and 
beheaded  with  a  rusty  sword  on  the  side  of  a  long-boat ;  his 
body,  stripped  of  its  "  gown  of  russet  and  doublet  of  velvet 
mailed,"  being  thrown  on  the  sands  of  Dover. 

The  only  other  prisoners  of  importance  in  this  reign  were 
Edmund  Duke  of  Somerset,  who  succeeded  to  the  power 


CORONATION  OF  ELIZABETH  WYDVILLE.       Ill 

and  unpopularity  of  the  Duke  of  Suffolk ;  John  Lord 
Dudley,  who  had  been  wounded  and  taken  prisoner  at  the 
battle  of  Bloreheath  ;  John  de  Vere,  twelfth  Earl  of  Oxford ; 
his  eldest  son,  Lord  Aubrey  de  Vere ;  and  George  Nevill, 
Archbishop  of  York,  Chancellor  of  the  kingdom  and  brother 
of  the  Earl  of  Warwick  the  king-maker.  The  Earl  of  Oxford 
and  his  heir  expiated  their  attachment  to  the  House  of  Lan- 
caster on  the  scaffold.  The  others  had  the  good  fortune  to 
escape  with  their  lives. 

During  the  reign  of  the  handsome  and  amorous  usurper, 
Edward  the  Fourth,  we  find  him  frequently  keeping  his  gay 
court  at  the  Tower.  Hence  it  was,  on  the  29th  of  June, 
1461,  that  he  rode  forth  in  great  magnificence  to  his  coro- 
nation in  Westminster  Abbey ;  the  Knights  of  the  Bath  pre- 
ceding him,  arrayed  "  in  blue  gowns,  with  hoods  and  tokens 
of  white  silk  upon  their  shoulders."  It  was  hither  also,  in 
1465,  that  Edward  conducted  his  fair  Queen,  Elizabeth 
Wydville,  after  their  romantic  union  at  Grafton  had  been 
announced  to  the  world.  Hence,  too,  it  was  that  on  Whit- 
sun-eve,  1465,  she  was  conducted  in  state  to  Westminster 
Abbey  to  be  solemnly  crowned  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury. 

Before  quitting  the  history  of  the  Tower  in  the  reign  of 
Edward  the  Fourth,  let  us  not  omit  to  mention  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  tragedies  which  has  ever  afforded  the 
ground-work  for  romance — the  execution  of  the  ill-fated 
George  Duke  of  Clarence,  the  son-in-law  of  the  king-maker 
Warwick,  and  the  brother  of  the  reigning  monarch.  Who  is 
there  but  has  longed  to  be  able  to  point  out  the  dungeon, 
where  the  "  false,  fleeting,  perjured  Clarence"  dreamed  his 
last  frightful  dream,  when  he  awoke  from  his  troubled  and 
fitful  slumbers  to  start  at  the  pale  faces  of  the  remorseless 
murderers  who  were  waiting  to  bear  him  to  his  doom  ? 


112  GEORGE  DUKE  OF  CLARENCE. 

The  night-scene  in  the  dungeon,  between  the  unfortunate 
Clarence  and  Sir  Robert  Brakenbury,  the  lieutenant  of  th& 
Tower,  is  one  of  those  magnificent  passages  in  poetry  which 
make  the  earliest  and  deepest  impressions  on  our  imagina- 
tions, and  continue  to  be  remembered  to  the  last. 

"  Bralc.   What  was  your  dream,  my  Lord  ?    I  pray  you,  tell  me. 
Clar.     Methought  that  I  had  broken  from  the  Tower, 
And  was  embark'd  to  cross  to  Burgundy  ; 
And  in  my  company  my  brother  Gloster  : 
Who  from  my  cabin  tempted  me  to  walk 
Upon  the  hatches  ;  there  we  look'd  toward  England, 
And  cited  up  a  thousand  heavy  times, 
During  the  wars  of  York  and  Lancaster, 
That  had  befall'n  us.     As  we  pac'd  along\ 
Upon  the  giddy  footing  of  the  hatches, 
Methought  that  Gloster  stumbled  ;  and,  in  falling, 
Struck  me,  that  thought  to  stay  him,  overboard, 
Into  the  tumbling  billows  of  the  main. 

0  Lord  !  methought  what  pain  it  was  to  drown  ! 
What  dreadful  noise  of  water  in  mine  ears  ! 
What  sights  of  ugly  death  within  mine  eyes  ! 
Methought  I  saw  a  thousand  fearful  wracks  ; 

A  thousand  men  that  fishes  gnaw'd  upon  ; 

Wedges  of  gold,  great  anchors,  heaps  of  pearl ; 

Inestimable  stones,  unvalued  jewels, 

All  scatter'd  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

Some  lay  in  dead  men's  skulls  ;  and  in  those  holes 

Where  eyes  did  once  inhabit  there  were  crept, 

As  'twere  in  scorn  of  eyes,  reflecting  gems, 

That  woo'd  the  slimy  bottom  of  the  deep, 

And  mock'd  the  dead  bones  that  lay  scatter'd  by. 
Brak.    Had  you  such  leisure  in  the  time  of  death 

To  gaze  upon  these  secrets  of  the  deep  ? 
Clar.     Methought  I  had  ;  and  often  did  I  strive 

To  yield  the  ghost :  but  still  the  envious  flood 

Stopt  in  my  soul,  and  would  not  let  it  forth 

To  find  the  empty,  vast,  and  wand'ring  air ; 

But  smother'd  it  within  my  panting  bulk, 

Which  almost  burst  to  belch  it  in.the  sea. 
Brak.     Awak'd  you  not  in  this  sore  agony  ? 
Clar.      No,  no,  my  dream  was  lengthen'd  after  life  ; 

O,  then  began  the  tempest  to  my  soul  ! 

1  pass'd,  methought,  the  melancholy  flood, 
With  that  sour  ferryman  which  poets  write  of, 


EXECUTION  OF  GEORGE  DUKE  OF  CLARENCE.  113 

Unto  the  kingdom  of  perpetual  night. 

The  first  that  there  did  greet  my  stranger  soul 

Was  my  great  father-in-law,  renowned  Warwick, 

Who  cried  aloud, — '  What  scourge  for  perjury 

Can  this  dark  monarchy  afford  false  Clarence  ?' 

And  so  he  vanish'd.     Then  came  wandering  by 

A  shadow  like  an  angel,  with  bright  hair 

Dabbled  in  blood ;  and  he  shrieked  out  aloud, — 

'  Clarence  is  come,— false,  fleetinrj,  perjur'd  Clarence,  — 

That  KtaWd  me  in  the  field  by  Tewkesbury  ; 

Seize  on  him,  furies,  take  him  unto  torment ! ' 

With  that,  methought,  a  legion  of  foul  fiends 

Environ'd  me,  and  howled  in  mine  ears 

Such  hideous  cries,  that,  with  the  very  noise 

I  trembling  wak'd,  and,  for  a  season  after, 

Could  not  believe  but  that  I  was  in  hell ; 

Such  terrible  impression  made  my  (bream." 

King  Richard  III.,  act  i.,  sc.  4. 

The  motives  which  induced  King  Edward  to  sign  the 
death-warrant  of  his  own  brother  will  probably  ever  con- 
tinue to  be  a  mystery.  Clarence,  fickle  in  character  and 
imprudent  in  speech,  had  formerly  joined  his  father-in-law, 
the  Earl  of  Warwick,  in  his  confederacy  against  the  King  ; 
yet  since  then  they  had  to  all  appearance  become  recon- 
ciled ;  all  unkindness  seemed  to  have  been  forgotten ;  the 
royal  brothers  had  fought  side  by  side  at  the  battles  of  Barnet 
and  Tewkesbury.  But  whatever  may  have  been  the  follies 
or  the  crimes  of  the  misguided  Clarence,  his  enemies  were 
evidently  determined  on  his  death.  Accordingly  on  the 
16th  of  January,  1478,  he  was  committed  to  the  Tower,  and 
in  the  course  of  the  same  month  was  brought  to  trial,  on 
charges  of  high  treason,  at  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Lords. 
With  suborned  witnesses,  and  a  parliament  in  those  days 
slavishly  devoted  to  the  wishes  of  the  reigning  sovereign,  it 
may  readily  be  imagined  that  the  doom  of  Clarence  was 
fixed.  Edward  himself  pleaded  in  person  against  his  unfor- 
tunate brother ;  he  was  found  guilty  by  the  peers,  and  both 

VOL.  II.  8 


114  EXECUTION  OF  EARL  RIVERS. 

Houses  petitioned  the  King  to  consent  to  his  execution.  The 
only  favour  which  Edward  showed  his  brother  is  said  to 
have  been  the  giving  him  the  choice  of  the  manner  of  his 
death,  which  was  privately  carried  into  effect  in  the  Tower 
on  the  18th  of  February. 

King  Edward  dying  on  the  9th  of  April,  1483,  on  the 
same  day  his  young  son,  Edward  the  Fifth,  then  in  his; 
thirteenth  year,  was  proclaimed  his  successor.  The  young 
Prince  was  at  this  time  residing  in  the  castle  of  Ludlow,  on 
the  borders  of  Wales,  under  the  guardianship  of  his  maternal 
uncle,  Anthony  Wydville,  Earl  Kivers,  a  nobleman  equally 
distinguished  for  his  literary  accomplishments  and  his 
chivalrous  gallantry  on  the  field  of  battle.  The  breath  had 
no  sooner  quitted  the  body  of  the  late  King,  than  the  Duke 
of  Gloucester  commenced  playing  that  subtle  part  which  has 
rendered  his  name  famous  in  the  pages  both  of  history  and 
romance.  At  the  time  of  his  brother's  death  he  was  absent 
in  the  north  of  England,  whence  he  proceeded  with  a 
large  retinue  clad  in  mourning  to  Northampton,  where  he 
and  Lord  Kivers  met.  That  evening  over  the  social  board 
these  two  great  lords  pledged  themselves  in  the  wine-cup ; 
mirth  and  joviality  resounded  in  the  festive  chamber;  and 
when  they  parted  at  night  it  was  with  every  appearance  of 
cordiality  and  good  fellowship.  The  next  day,  however,  as 
Rivers  was  entering  the  town  of  Stony  Stratford,  he  was 
suddenly  arrested  by  order  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  and 
conveyed  with  Lord  Grey,  Sir  Thomas  Vaughan,  and  Sir 
Richard  Hawse  to  Pomfret  Castle,  in  front  of  which  he  was 
beheaded  without  trial  and  without  a  hearing.  The  re- 
markable events  which  followed — the  appointment  of  the 
Duke  to  the  high  office  of  Protector — the  flight  of  the 
affrighted  Queen-mother  with  her  younger  son,  the  Duke  of 
York,  to  the  sanctuary  at  Westminster— and  the  insidious 


RICHARD  DUKE  OF  GLOUCESTER.  115 

means  by  which  she  was  induced  to  deliver  up  her  beloved 
child  to  his  unscrupulous  uncle — are  well  known.  On  the 
13th  of  April,  1483,  the  young  King,  attended  by  the  Dukes 
of  Gloucester  and  Buckingham,  made  his  entry  into  London 
with  great  magnificence,  and  after  having  passed  a  few 
nights  in  the  palace  of  the  Bishop  of  London,  was  conducted 
to  his  last  earthly  resting-place  in  the  Tower,  where  he  was 
shortly  afterwards  joined  by  his  infant  brother,  the  Duke  of 
York. 

The  23rd  of  June  had  been  fixed  upon  as  the  day  of  the 
King's  coronation,  and  every  preparation  had  been  made  for 
the  important  ceremony,  when,  on  the  13th,  there  took  place 
that  memorable  council  at  the  Tower,  which  the  genius  of 
Shakspeare  has  rendered  familiar  to  every  one.  At  the 
head  of  the  table  sat  the  Protector,  while  among  the  prin- 
cipal persons  present  were  the  Archbishop  of  York,  Morton 
Bishop  of  Ely,  Lord  Hastings,  and  Lord  Stanley.  After  a 
while  Richard,  who  was  apparently  in  the  highest  possible 
spirits,  excused  himself  to  the  Lords  of  the  Council,  and  re- 
tired for  a  short  time  from  the  apartment.  On  his  return, 
rage,  hatred,  and  vengeance  are  said  to  have  been  forcibly 
and  terribly  depicted  on  his  countenance.  At  length,  con- 
tracting his  brows  and  biting  his  lips,  he  started  up— 
"  What,"  he  exclaimed,  stamping  his  foot,  "  are  they  worthy 
of  that  compassed  and  imagined  his  destruction  who  was  so 
nearly  related  to  the  King,  and  was  intrusted  with  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  government  ?"  The  Lords  of  the  Coun- 
cil; completely  confounded,  sat  silent.  At  length  Hastings, 
emboldened  perhaps  by  their  long  friendship  and  the  affec- 
tion which  the  Protector  was  believed  to 'entertain  for  him, 
ventured  to  reply.  "  Surely,  my  lord,"  he  said,  "  they  are 
worthy  to  be  punished  a"s  traitors,  whosoever  they  be."  At 
these  words  the  rage  of  the  Protector  seemed  to  increase. 

.  8—2 


116  EXECUTION  OF  LORD  HASTINGS. 

"  Those  traitors,"  he  said,  "  are  the  sorceress,  my  brother's 
wife,  and  his  mistress,  Jane  Shore  :  see  how  by  their  witch- 
craft they  have  wasted  my  body  !"  "  And  therewith,"  writes 
Sir  Thomas  More,  "  he  turned  up  his  doublet  sleeve  to  the 
elbow  of  his  left  arm  ;  where  he  showed  a  wearish  withered 
arm  and  small."  The  Lords  of  the  Council  looked  at  each 
other  in  terror  and  amazement.  Again  Hastings  was  the 
first  to  attempt  to  pacify  him.  "  Certainly,  my  lord,"  he 
said,  "  if  they  have  so  heinously  done,  they  be  worthy  of 
heinous  punishment."  "And  do  you  reply  to  me,"  thun- 
dered the  Protector,  "  with  your  ifs  and  your  ands  ?  You 
are  the  chief  abettor  of  that  witch  Shore ;  you  are  yourself 
a  traitor  :  and  I  swear  by  St.  Paul,  that  I  will  not  dine  before 
your  head  be  brought  me."  At  this  instant  he  struck  the 
table  furiously  with  his  clenched  hand,  on  which  the  guard, 
crying  "  treason  !  treason  !"  rushed  into  the  apartment.  In 
the  struggle  which  followed,  Lord  Stanley,  either  by  design 
or  accident,  received  a  severe  blow  on  the  head  with  a  pole- 
axe.  Lord  Stanley  and  the  two  prelates  were  hurried  off 
to  different  prison-rooms.  Hastings  was  forthwith  seized 
and  dragged  to  the  green  in  front  of  the  Tower  chapel, 
where,  "  without  time  for  confession  or  repentance,"  he  was 
beheaded. 

"  Glouc.  I  pray  you  all,  tell  me  what  they  deserve 

That  do  conspire  iny  death  with  devilish  plots 
Of  damned  witchcraft,  and  that  have  prevail'd 
Upon  my  body  with  their  hellish  charms  ? 

Hast.  The  tender  love  I  bear  your  grace,  my  lord, 

Makes  me  most  forward  in  this  noble  presence 
To  doom  the  offenders  ;  whosoever  they  be, 
I  say,  my  lord,  they  have  deserved  death. 

Glouc.  Then  be  your  eyes  the  witness  of  this  ill, 
See  how  I  am  bewitch'd  ;  behold  mine  arm 
Is,  like  a  blasted  sapling,  wither'd  up  : 
And  this  is  Edward's  wife,  that  monstrous  witch, 


RICHARD  ACCEPTS  THE  CROWN.  117 

Consorted  with  that  harlot  strumpet  Shore, 

That  by  their  witchcraft  thus  have  marked  me. 
Hast.  If  they  have  done  this  thing,  my  gracious  lord — 
Glouc.  If!  thou  protector  of  this  damned  strumpet, 

Tellest  thou  me  of  ifs  ?    Thou  art  a  traitor  : 

Off  with  his  head.     Now,  by  St.  Paul  I  swear, 

I  will  not  dine  until  I  see  the  same  ! 

Lovel  and  Ratcliff,  look  that  it  be  done  : 

The  rest  that  love  me,  rise  and  follow  me." 

King  Richard  III.,  act  iil,  sc.  4. 

On  the  25th  of  June,  1483,  twelve  days  after  the  execu- 
tion of  Hastings,  Richard  was  waited  upon  at  Baynard's 
Castle  by  his  creature  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  the  Lord 
Mayor  of  London,  and  a  body  of  citizens,  who,  having  pre- 
viously been  suborned  by  the  Protector's  agents,  clamorously 
insisted  on  his  assuming  to  himself  the  supreme  power. 
Being  informed  that  the  people  were  assembled  in  the  court 
below,  he  pretended  an  utter  ignorance  of  their  purpose ; 
nor  was  it  without  great  apparent  reluctance  that  he  was 
induced  to  admit  their  leaders  to  an  audience.  At  length, 
having  been  assured  by  Buckingham  that  the  people  were 
unanimously  resolved  to  have  him  for  their  sovereign,  and 
further,  that  if  he  refused  the  proffered  dignity  they  would 
be  compelled  to  look  out  for  a  sovereign  elsewhere,  he 
yielded  with  great  apparent  humility  to  their  arguments 
and  remonstrances.  On  the  following  day  he  was  proclaimed 
by  the  title  of  King  Richard  the  Third  with  the  usual  for- 
malities. 

On  the  6th  of  July,  the  Protector,  passing  under  the  time- 
honoured  portals  of  the  Tower,  proceeded  with  great  pomp 
through  the  streets  of  London  to  his  coronation  in  West- 
minster Abbey.  In  the  procession  were  as  many  as  three 
dukes,  nine  earls,  and  twenty-two  barons,  besides  a  large 
assemblage  of  knights  and  esquires.  Amongst  the  most  con- 
spicuous in  the  gorgeous  cavalcade  was  the  Duke  of  Buck- 


118      RICHARD  PLANS  HIS  NEPHEWS'  MURDER. 

ingham.  The  appearance  of  Richard  is  described  by  the 
chronicler  Hall  as  strikingly  splendid.  His  robes  were 
of  blue  velvet,  richly  embroidered  with  gold,  while  the 
trappings  and  caparisons  of  his  horse  were  supported  by 
footmen  in  rich  and  costly  dresses,  "  in  such  solemn  fashion 
that  all  men  much  regarded  it." 

Shortly  after  his  coronation,  King  Richard  proceeded  on  a 
progress  through  the  midland  counties  as  far  as  York,  during 
which  period  he  is  said  to  have  devised  and  carried  into 
effect  that  memorable  tragedy,  the  murder  of  his  two 
nephews  in  the  Tower.  "  King  Richard,"  writes  Sir  Thomas 
More,  "  after  his  coronation,  taking  his  way  to  Gloucester, 
devised,  as  he  rode,  to  fulfil  that  thing  which  he  had  before 
intended.  Whereupon  he  sent  John  Grene,  whom  he  spe- 
cially trusted,  to  Sir  Robert  Brakenbury,  constable  of  the 
Tower,  with  a  letter  and  credence  also,  that  the  same  Sir 
Robert  in  any  wise  should  put  the  two  children  to  death. 
This  John  Grene  did  his  errand  to  Brakenbury,  kneeling  be- 
fore our  Lady  in  the  Tower,  who  plainly  answered  that  he 
would  never  put  them  to  death  to  die  therefor.  With  that 
answer  Grene  returned,  recounting  the  same  to  King  Richard 
at  Warwick,  yet  on  his  journey;  wherewith  he  took  much 
displeasure,  and  that  same  night  said  to  a  page  of  his,  '  Ah  ! 
whom  shall  a  man  trust  ?  They  that  I  have  brought  up  my- 
self; they  that  I  thought  would  have  mostly  served  me,  even 
those  fail,  and  at  my  commandment  will  do  nothing  for  me.' 
— '  Sir,'  quoth  the  page,  '  there  lieth  one  in  the  pallet-chamber 
without,  that,  to  do  your  grace  pleasure,  the  thing  were  right 
hard  that  he  would  refuse ;'  meaning  by  this  Sir  James  Tyr- 
rell, who  was  a  man  of  goodly  personage,  and,  for  the  gifts 
of  nature,  worthy  to  have  served  a  better  prince  if  he  had 
well  served'  God,  and  by  grace  obtained  as  much  truth  and 
good-will  as  he\had  strength  and  wit.  Whereupon  the  King 


THE  PRINCES  IN  THE  TOWER.  119 

rose  and  came  out  into  the  pallet-chamber,  where  he  found 
•Sir  James  Tyrrell  in  bed  with  Sir  Thomas  Tyrrell,  of  person 
like  and  brethren  in  blood,  but  nothing  of  him  in  conditions. 
Then  said  the  King  unto  them  merrily, '  What,  sirs,  be  ye  in 
bed  so  soon  ?'  and  calling  Sir  James  Tyrrell  up,  brake  to  him 
secretly  his  mind  in  this  mischievous  matter,  in  which  he 
found  him  to  his  purpose  nothing  strange.  Wherefore  on 
the  morrow  he  sent  him  to  Brakenbury  with  a  letter,  by 
which  he  was  commanded  to  deliver  to  Sir  James  all  the 
keys  of  the  Tower  for  a  night,  to  the  end  that  he  might 
there  accomplish  the  King's  pleasure  in  such  things  as  he 
had  given  him  in  commandment." 

Following  the  further  account  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  we  are 
told  that  ever  since  the  usurpation  of  Richard,  the  young 
King  and  his  infant  brother,  the  Duke  of  York,  had  been 
deprived  of  all  the  appurtenances  of  royalty;  that  they 
were  kept  in  the  closest  confinement  in  the  Tower ;  that 
their  accustomed  attendants  were  removed  from  about  their 
persons,  and  further,  that  their  places  were  supplied  by  one 
who  bore  the  sobriquet  of  Black  Will,  and  by  four  other  per- 
sons who  may  be  supposed  to  have  been  of  no  very  gentle 
natures.  From  this  period  the  young  brothers  are  described 
as  clinging  to  each  other,  as  if  in  the  vain  hope  of  finding 
succour  in  each  other's  embraces ;  neglecting  their  dress,  and 
anticipating  in  childish  horror  the  dark  doom  which  awaited 
them.  "  The  Prince,"  writes  Sir  Thomas  More,  "  never  tied 
his  points,  nor  anything  thought  of  himself,  but  with  that 
young  babe  his  brother,  lingered  in  thought  and  heaviness 
till  the  traitorous  deed  delivered  them  from  their  wretched- 
ness." 

The  project  of  smothering  the  young  princes  in  their  bed 
— a  project  which  seems  to  have  been  devised  as  offering 
the  most  likely  means  of  avoid  ing  detection — is  said  to  have 


120  MURDER  OF  RICHARD'S  NEPHEWS. 

originated  with  Sir  James  Tyrrell,  who,  moreover,  associated 
with  himself  one  Slater  and  two  other  ruffians  of  the  names 
of  Miles  Forrest  and  John  Dighton  ;  the  latter  a  "  big,  broad, 
square  and  strong  knave."  The  hour  fixed  upon  for  the 
perpetration  of  the  crime  was  midnight,  when  the  inmates 
of  the  Tower  might  be  expected  to^be  asleep.  "Then," 
writes  Sir  Thomas  Moore,  "this  Miles  Forrest  and  John 
Dighton  came  into  the  chamber,  and  suddenly  wrapped 
them  up  amongst  the  clothes,  keeping  down  by  force  the 
feather  bed  and  pillows  hard  upon  their  mouths,  that  within 
a  while  they  smothered  and  stifled  them,  and  their  breaths 
failing,  they  gave  up  to  God  their  innocent  souls  into  the 
joys  of  Heaven,  leaving  to  their  tormentors  their  bodies 
dead  in  bed.  After  which  the  wretches  laid  them  out  upon 
the  bed,  and  fetched  Tyrrell  to  see  them,  and  when  he  was 
satisfied  of  their  death,  he  caused  the  murderers  to  bury 
them  at  the  stair-foot,  deep  in  the  ground  under  a  great 
heap  of  stones." 

"  Tyrrell.  The  tyrannous  and  bloody  deed  is  done, 
The  most  arch  act  of  piteous  massacre 
That  ever  yet  this  land  was  guilty  of. 
Dighton  and  Forrest,  whom  I  did  suborn 
To  do  this  ruthless  piece  of  butchery, 
Although  they  were  flesh'd  villains,  bloody  dogs, 
Melting  with  tenderness  and  kind  compassion, 
Wept  like  two  children  in  their  death's  sad  stories. 
'  Lo,  thus, '  quoth  Dighton,  '  lay  those  gentle  babes  :' 
'Thus,  thus,'  quoth  Forrest,  'girdling  one  another 
Within  their  innocent  alabaster  arms  ; 
Their  lips  were  four  red  roses  on  a  stalk, 
Which  in  their  summer  beauty  kiss'd  each  other. 
A  book  of  prayers  on  their  pillow  lay ; 
Which  once, '  quoth  Forrest,  '  almost  changed  my  mind  ; 
But  0  !  the  devil,' — there  the  villain  stopp'd  ; 
Whilst  Dighton  thus  told  on  :  '  We  smothered 
The  most  replenished  sweet  work  of  Nature, 
That  from  the  prime  creation  e'er  she  framed.' 
Thus  both  are  gone  with  conscience  and  remorse  ; 


UNCERTAINTY  RESPECTING  THEIR  MURDER.  121 

They  could  not  speak  ;  and  so  I  left  them  both, 
To  bear  this  tidings  to  the  bloody  King." 

King  Richard  III.,  act  iv.,  sc.  3. 

After  the  perpetration  of  the  crime,  Sir  James  Tyrrell  is 
said  to  have  ridden  in  furious  haste  to  King  Richard,  to 
whom  he  communicated  "all  the  manner  of  the  murder." 
Richard,  we  are  told,  though  he  thanked  him  for  the  zeal 
which  he  had  displayed  in  his  service,  manifested  neverthe- 
less a  strange  displeasure  at  the  indecent  manner  in  which 
his  nephews  had  been  committed  to  the  earth  ;  at  the  same 
time  he  directed  Tyrrell  to  cause  their  bodies  to  be  removed 
to  consecrated  ground.  "Whereupon,"  writes  Sir  Thomas 
More,  "  a  priest  of  Sir  Robert  Brakenbury's  took  them  up 
and  buried  them  in  such  secrecy  as,  by  the  occasion  of  his 
death,  which  was  shortly  after,  no  one  knew  it." 

In  describing  the  particulars  of  the  presumed  murder  of 
the  children  of  Edward  the  Fourth  in  the  Tower,  we  have 
followed  throughout  the  account  given  by  an  almost  contem- 
porary writer,  Sir  Thomas  More — an  account  which,  for 
more  than  three  centuries,  has  drawn  the  tear  from  child- 
hood and  formed  the  subject  of  many  a  plaintive  ballad — 
which  Shakspeare  has  improved  upon  in  his  immortal 
drama — and  which  has  long  been  borrowed  by  the  pencil  of 
the  artist  and  the  pen  of  the  writer  of  romance.  Whether, 
however,  such  a  tragedy  was  ever  acted  in  the  Tower  is  an- 
other question.  That  the  young  Princes  were  put  to  death 
in  the  manner  related  by  Sir  Thomas  More,  there  is  no  little 
reason  to  disbelieve.  All  that  is  known  with  certainty  is 
the  fact  that  they  were  alive  and  were  inmates  of  the  Tower 
at  the  period  of  Richard's  accession,  and  that  they  were  never 
afterwards  satisfactorily  proved  to  be  in  existence.  Whether, 
however,  they  fell  by  the  hand  of  the  assassin,  or  whether 
they  wore  out  a  miserable  existence  in  the  dungeons  of  the 


122  HENRY  THE  SEVENTH. 

Tower — whether  they  were  removed  to  the  Continent  and 
were  transferred  to  the  safe  keeping  of  some  foreign  power 
— or  whether  the  young  King  was  the  only  victim,  and  his 
brother,  the  Duke  of  York,  was  in  reality  the  accomplished 
and  unfortunate  Perkin  Warbeck, — will  probably  ever  con- 
tinue to  be  a  mystery. 

On  the  22nd  of  August,  1485,  King  Richard  expired  on  the 
famous  field  of  Bosworth,  on  which  the  crown  he  had  worn 
in  the  battle  was  placed  by  Sir  William  Stanley  on  the 
head  of  his  rival,  Henry  of  Richmond.  The  ceremony  of 
King  Henry's  coronation,  in  consequence  of  the  sweating 
sickness  raging  violently  in  London,  was  delayed  a  few 
weeks,  at  the  expiration  of  which  he  was  solemnly  crowned 
by  Cardinal  Bourchier,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  by  the 
title  of  King  Henry  the  Seventh. 

During  this  year  we  find  the  King,  like  his  predecessors, 
occasionally  maintaining  his  court,  and  holding  tournaments, 
at  the  Tower.  With  his  young  Queen  also — Elizabeth  of 
York,  sister  of  the  unfortunate  Edward  the  Fifth — the  Tower 
seems  to  have  been  a  favourite  residence.  Hither  this  amiable 
Princess  was  escorted  by  water  from  Greenwich  in  great  state 
on  the  eve  of  her  coronation,  and  here  on  her  landing  she  was 
received  by  the  King  and  the  principal  nobility  and  officers 
of  state,  who  conducted  her  to  the  royal  apartments.  The 
following  day,  the  25th  of  November,  1487 — "royally  appa- 
relled and  accompanied  by  my  ladye,  the  King's  mother,  and 
many  other  great  estates,  both  lords  and  ladies" — she  came 
forth  to  her  coronation.  The  houses  in  the  streets  through 
which  she  passed  on  her  way  to  Westminster  Abbey  were 
hung,  some  with  arras  and  tapestry,  and  others  with  cloth  of 
gold,  velvet,  and  silk.  Between  the  Tower  and  St.  Paul's 
-were  arrayed  the  different  Companies  of  the  city  of  London 
in  their  rich  and  showy  liveries,  and  "  in  diverse  places  were 


DEATH  OF  ELIZABETH  OF  YORK.  123 

ordained  singing  children,  some  arrayed  like  angels,  and 
•others  like  virgins,  to  sing  sweet  songs  as  her  Grace  passed 
by."  Thus,  through  the  gay  and  crowded  streets,  attended 
by  the  noblest  and  fairest  of  the  land,  passed  Elizabeth  of 
York  to  her  coronation.  Her  kirtle  was  of  white  cloth  of 
gold,  over  which  she  wore  a  mantle  of  the  same  material 
furred  with  ermine.  Her  long  fair  hair  flowed  loosely  down 
her  back,  and  on  her  head  she  wore  a  coronet  of  gold  glit- 
tering with  precious  stones.  The  populace,  as  she  passed 
along,  greeted  with  the  most  enthusiastic  acclamations  the 
young  and  interesting  Princess,  whose  marriage  had  united 
the  two  great  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster,  and  had  thus 
arrested  that  tide  of  misery,  blood,  and  desolation  which  had 
so  long  devastated  the  land. 

The  Tower  was  the  scene  of  Elizabeth's  death.  On  the 
2nd  of  February,  1503,  she  was  brought  to  bed  here  of  a 
daughter,  whose  birth  she  survived  only  a  few  days. 

Jealous  of  any  rival  near  his  throne,  one  of  the  first  acts  of 
Henry  the  Seventh,  on  being  exalted  to  the  supreme  power, 
had  been  to  immure  in  the  Tower  the  last  male  heir  of  the 
great  race  of  the  Plantagenets,  Edward  Earl  of  Warwick,  son 
and  heir  of  the  late  ill-fated  Duke  of  Warwick.  Without 
having  committed — without  even  being  accused  of  having 
committed  a  crime — this  unfortunate  young  prince  was  con- 
demned to  pass  in  a  miserable  imprisonment  those  years 
which  are  generally  considered  to  be  the  happiest  and  most 
precious  of  our  existence.  Here  he  remained  till  the  year 
1499,  when  the  gates  of  the  Tower  opened  to  receive  a  no 
less  remarkable  prisoner,  Perkin  Warbeck.  The  two  youths 
— who  were  not  improbably  allied  in  blood — having  found 
means  to  confer  with  each  other  in  secret,  contrived  a  plan 
for  escaping  from  the  gloomy  fortress.  Their  project,  how- 
ever, unfortunately  transpiring,  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  whose 


124  PERKIN  WARBECK. 

only  offence  was  a  natural  longing  for  life  and  liberty,  was. 
brought  to  trial  before  the  Earl  of  Oxford,  High  Steward  of 
England,  and  having  been  condemned  to  death,  was  beheaded 
on  the  28th  of  November  on  Tower  Hill. 

From  the  Earl  of  Warwick  we  turn  to  the  still  more  ex- 
traordinary fortunes  of  Perkin  Warbeck.  According  to  the 
account  of  those  who  denied  his  claims,  this  person  was  the 
son  of  one  Osbeck  or  Warbeck, — a  renegade  Jew  of  Tournay,. 
and  subsequently  a  citizen  of  London, — whose  wealth  having 
introduced  him  to  the  notice  of  Edward  the  Fourth,  that  easy 
and  affable  monarch  consented  to  stand  godfather  to  his  son. 
The  account,  however,  given  by  Perkin  Warbeck  and  his 
partizans  was  widely  different.  They  boldly  asserted  that  he 
was  Kichard  Duke  of  York,  youngest  son  of  Bang  Edward ; 
that  he  had  contrived  to  elude  the  murderous  intentions  of 
Richard  the  Third  as  well  as  the  watchful  jealousy  of  Henry 
the  Seventh;  and  that  he  was,  in  fact,  their  rightful  and 
legitimate  sovereign.  Whether,  however,  Perkin  W'arbeck 
was  in  reality  the  younger  son  of  King  Edward ;  whether,  as 
some  have  conjectured,  he  was  merely  the  illegitimate  off- 
spring of  that  monarch  ;  or  whether,  after  all,  he  was  only  a 
daring  impostor,  are  questions  admitting  of  more  arguments 
and  disquisitions  than  we  have  space  to  enter  into.  At  all 
events,  Margaret  Duchess  of  Burgundy — aunt  of  the  late 
King  Edward  the  Fifth  and  of  his  brother  the  Duke  of 
York — acknowledged  Warbeck  to  be  her  nephew,  and  con- 
ferred on  him  the  title  of  the  "  White  Rose  of  England ; " 
while  men  of  the  highest  rank  and  consequence — including 
Lord  Fitzwalter,  Sir  Simon  Mountfort,  Sir  Thomas  Thwaites, 
and  it  is  even  said  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  Sir  William  Stan- 
ley— entered  into  a  secret  correspondence  with  him.  Encou- 
raged by  these  circumstances,  as  well  as  by  the  growing  un- 
popularity of  Henry  the  Seventh,  Perkin  Warbeck,  with  the 


FORTUNES  OF  PERKIN  WARBECK.      125 

assistance  of  his  wealthy  and  powerful  friends,  enlisted  a 
well-appointed  body  of  men,  to  whom  he  added  a  number  of 
adventurers  of  all  nations,  and  with  this  force  proceeded  to 
dispute  the  possession  of  the  throne  with  King  Henry. 
Accordingly,  in  the  month  of  July,  1495,  he  set  sail,  and 
with  little  difficulty  effected  a  landing  on  the  coast  of  Kent. 
The  gentlemen  of  the  county,  however,  were  prepared  to 
oppose  him,  and  accordingly,  after  a  skirmish  in  which  he 
lost  a  hundred  and  fifty  men,  he  re-embarked  his  force  and 
steered  towards  Scotland. 

The  reception  of  Perkin  Warbeck  by  the  Scottish  monarch, 
James  the  Fourth,  was  as  favourable  and  nattering  as  his 
fondest  wishes  could  have  anticipated.  James  not  only  pub- 
licly acknowledged  him  to  be  the  legitimate  sovereign  of 
England,  but  as  a  proof  of  his  sincerity  conferred  on  him  in 
marriage  a  beautiful  and  virtuous  lady  related  to  the  blood- 
royal  of  Scotland,  the  Lady  Catherine  Gordon,  daughter  of 
the  Marquis  of  Huntley.  Moreover,  it  was  owing  to  the 
assistance  rendered  him  by  James  that  he  was  enabled  to 
raise  and  equip  the  armed  force  with  which  he  made  his 
second  irruption  into  England.  The  moment,  however,  was 
fast  approaching  when  it  was  to  be  no  longer  in  the  power 
of  the  Scottish  monarch  to  assist  his  favourite.  Having  been 
forced,  though  with  great  reluctance,  to  sign  a  treaty  of  peace 
with  the  English  King,  he  had  no  choice  but  to  leave  the 
unfortunate  Perkin  Warbeck  to  try  his  fortunes  in  some 
other  quarter.  Accordingly  he  proceeded  in  the  first  Instance 
to  Cork,  whence,  in  consequence  of  an  invitation  which  he 
received  from  the  Cornish  rebels,  he  was  induced  to  pass 
over  to  the  coast  of  England.  There  he  soon  found  himself 
at  the  head  of  seven  thousand  men,  with  which  force  he 
proceeded  to  lay  siege  to  Exeter.  Gradually,  however,  de- 
sertion and  discontent  thinned  his  ill-paid  and  ill-appointed 


126  EXECUTION  OF  PERKIN  WARBECK. 

\ 

followers,  and  accordingly  at  the  threatened  approach  of  the- 
King  of  England  with  a  large  force,  he  was  compelled  to 
raise  the  siege  and  to  seek  safety  in  night.  For  a  time  he 
found  an  asylum  in  the  sanctuary  of  Beaulieu  in  the  New 
Forest ;  till,  receiving  an  assurance  of  the  King's  pardon,  he 
surrendered  himself  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  and  was 
conducted  in  a  kind  of  mock  triumph  towards  London.  On 
the  road,  however,  he  contrived  to  effect  his  escape,  and  to 
throw  himself  on  the  protection  of  the  prior  of  Sheen,  in 
Surrey,  but  again  he  fell  into  the  power  of  Henry.  From 
this  period  he  remained  a  close  prisoner  in  the  Tower,  till 
the  failure  of  his  attempt  to  escape  from  that  fortress  with 
the  young  Earl  of  Warwick.  He  was  then  brought  to  trial 
on  charges  of  high  treason,  and,  having  been  found  guilty, 
was  hanged  at  Tyburn  on  the  23rd  of  November,  1499.  His 
young  and  interesting  wTidow,  Lady  Catherine  Gordon,  re- 
ceived great  kindness  from  Henry's  Queen,  who  placed  her 
near  her  person  and  conferred  on  her  a  pension  which  was 
continued  to  her  in  the  following  reign. 

The  only  other  prisoner  of  importance  who  was  confined 
in  the  Tower  in  this  reign,  was  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  Sir 
William  Stanley,  whose  only  proved  crime  is  said  to  have 
been  his  well-known  and  confidential  observation  to  Sir 
Robert  Clifford,  that  if  he  was  sure  that  Perkin  Warbeck 
was  the  son  of  King  Edward,  he  would  never  bear  arms 
against  him.  Nevertheless,  on  the  loth  of  February,  1495, 
he  was  brought  to  trial,  and  having  been  found  guilty,  was 
beheaded  on  Tower  Hill. 

The  history  of  the  Tower  during  the  ensuing  reign  of 
Henry  the  Eighth  is  ,  full  of  interest.  Here  were  confined, 
preparatory  to  a  bloody  death,  that  rich  and  powerful  noble- 
man, Edward  Duke  of  Buckingham ;  the  wise  and  witty  Sir 
Thomas  More;  the  upright  minister,  Cromwell,  Earl  of 


MARRIAGE  OF  CATHERINE  OF  ARAGON.         127 

Essex ;  the  gentle  and  beautiful  Anne  Boleyn ;  the  fair  and 
lascivious  Catherine  Howard ;  the  meek  martyr,  Anne 
Askew ;  and  the  young  and  gallant  Earl  of  Surrey,  the  dar- 
ling of  beauty  and  of  the  muses. 

It  was  here  that  Henry  the  Eighth  passed,  in  comparative- 
privacy,  the  days  which  elapsed  between  the  death  of  his 
father  and  his  interment  in  Westminster  Abbey.  Hither 
also  it  was  that  he  conducted  his  young  Queen,  Catherine  of 
Aragon,  from  Greenwich,  and  here  with  her  he  passed  a 
few  days  previously  to  their  gorgeous  coronation  at  West- 
minster. According  to  the  account  of  the  old  chronicler, 
Hall,  it  must  have  far  exceeded  in  magnificence  all  former 
similar  ceremonials.  The  procession,  after  having  issued 
from  the  Tower,  passed  through  a  long  line  of  streets,  the 
houses  of  which,  as  was  customary  on  such  occasions,  were 
hung  with  silk,  tapestry,  and  damask.  First  rode,  in  rich 
dresses,  two  gentlemen  on  horseback,  bearing  the  colours  of 
the  provinces  o,f  Guienne  and  Normandy.  Then  came  two 
other  gentlemen,  carrying  the  King's  hat  and  cloak ;  while 
immediately  before  Henry  rode  Sir  Thomas  Brandon,  master 
of  the  horse,  in  a  magnificent  habit  of  tissue,  ornamented 
with  roses  of  gold.  The  King,  who  rode  bare-headed,  was 
conspicuous  above  the  rest  in  a  tunic  of  raised  gold  and  a 
robe  of  crimson  velvet.  "  His  placard,"  we  are  told,  "  was 
set  with  diamonds,  rubies,  emeralds,  and  pearls,  and  his 
bawdrick,  or  belt,  with  great  rubies :  the  trappings  of  his 
horse  were  of  damask  and  gold,  with  a  deep  border  of 
ermine  ;  the  knights  and  esquires  of  his  body  were  clad  in 
crimson  velvet;  and  all  the  gentlemen,  and  other  of  his 
chapel,  and  his  officers  and  household  servants,  in  scarlet." 
Immediately  behind  the  King  came  the  Queen  in  a  chariot 
or  litter  drawn  by  two  white  palfreys ;  her  dress  being  of 
white  embroidered  satin,  while  on  her  head  she  wore  a 


128   EXECUTION  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  BUCKINGHAM. 

coronet  set  with  precious  stones,  from  underneath  which  her 
hair,  "  beautiful  and  goodly  to  behold,"  fell  in  long  tresses 
down  her  back. 

The  first  illustrious  victim  to  the  jealousy  of  Henry  the 
Eighth,  was  Edward  Duke  of  Buckingham,  Knight  of  the 
Garter  and  Lord  High  Chancellor  of  England,  upon  whose 
attainder  and  execution  sank  for  ever  the  splendour,  the 
princely  honours,  and  vast  wealth  of  the  ancient  and  re- 
nowned family  of  the  Staffords.     The  Duke,  being  descended 
from  Anne,   eldest    daughter   of    Thomas    of  Woodstock, 
youngest  son  of  King  Edward  the  Third,  was  nearly  related 
to  the  blood-royal.     To  this  circumstance,  and  also  to  his 
having  rashly  incurred   the  hostility  of  Cardinal  Wolsey, 
may  be  attributed  his  downfall.     The  Duke  on  some  occa- 
sion of  ceremony  is  said  to  have  held  a  basin  to  the  King, 
which  his  majesty  had  no  sooner  used  than  Wolsey  dipped 
his  fingers  into  it.     This  circumstance  was  so  offensive  to 
the  proud  blood  of  Buckingham,  that  he  emptied  the  con- 
tents of  the  basin  on  the  floor,  when  a  part  of  the  water  fell 
on  the  rich  dress  of  the  Cardinal.    From  this  moment  Wolsey 
is  said  to  have  determined  on  the  Duke's  ruin.     Some  time 
afterwards,  having  been  arrested  on  charges  of  high  treason, 
he  was  conveyed  on  the  13th  of  May,  1521,  by  water  from 
the  Tower  to  Westminster   Hall,  where  he  was  solemnly 
tried  before  his  peers  and  found  guilty  of  high  treason.  Four 
d^ys  after  his  condemnation,  this  powerful  nobleman  was 
beheaded  in  pursuance  of  his  sentence  on  Tower  Hill.     He 
died  calmly  and  lamented  by  the  populace,  to  whom  his 
popular  manners  and  princely  mode  of  living  had  greatly 
endeared  him.     It  was  Charles  the  Fifth  who,  in  allusion  to 
the  meanness  of  Wolsey 's  origin,  observed  on  being  informed 
of  Buckingham's  death,  "  that  a  butcher's  dog  had  killed  the 
finest  buck  in  England." 


THOMAS  MORE  IN  THE  TOWER.  129 

In  the  year  1534  was  committed  to  the  Tower,  for  refus- 
ing to  take  the  oath  of  supremacy  to  Henry  the  Eighth,  the 
wise  and  accomplished  Chancellor,  Sir  Thomas  More.  Neither 
at  the  time  of  his  arrest,  nor  during  his  long  imprisonment, 
did  his  equanimity  ever  forsake  him.  On  his  landing  at  the 
Traitors'  Gate,  the  porter,  according  to  an  ancient  custom, 
claiming  his  "  uppermost  garment  "  as  his  fee,  Sir  Thomas  pre- 
sented him  with  his  hat,  telling  him  that  was  his  "  upper- 
most garment "  and  that  he  wished  it  were  of  more  value. 
During  his  imprisonment  in  the  Tower  he  was  frequently 
visited  by  the  Lord  Chancellor,  the  Dukes  of  Norfolk  and 
Suffolk,  and  other  members  of  the  Privy  Council,  who  in 
vain  used  every  argument  to  persuade  him  to  take  the  oath 
of  supremacy,  and  thus  purchase  existence  at  the  expense  of 
his  conscience.  Accordingly,  he  was  brought  to  trial  at 
the  bar  of  the  Court  of  King's  Bench,  and  having  been  found 
guilty  of  high  treason  by  the  jury,  was  sentenced  to  be 
hanged,  drawn,  and  quartered  ;  a  sentence,  however,  which 
the  King  subsequently  changed  to  beheading.  On  the  return 
of  Sir  Thomas  to  the  Tower  a  severer  trial  than  that  which 
he  had  lately  undergone  awaited  him.  As  he  was  being  led 
through  the  gates  of  the  fortress,  his  beloved  daughter,  Mrs. 
Roper,  burst  through  the  guards,  and  throwing  her  arms 
round  her  father's  neck,  bathed  him  with  her  tears.  It  was 
only  by  force  that  the  officers  were  able  to  remove  her ; 
and  even  then  she  again  broke  from  them  before  he  was 
out  of  sight,  and  once  more  throwing  herself  into  her  father's 
arms,  the  same  distressing  scene  was  repeated.  "  Oh,  my 
father,  oh,  my  father ! "  were  the  only  words  to  which  her 
grief  enabled  her  to  give  utterance.  But  even  at  this  pain- 
ful moment — when  even  the  guards  who  surrounded  him  are 
said  to  have  shed  tears — Sir  Thomas  still  retained  his  wonted 
calmness  and  self-possession.  In  the  centre  of  the  armed 

VOL.  II.  9 


130  EXECUTION  OF  SIR  THOMAS  MORE. 

circle  lie  gave  his  daughter  his  solemn  blessing ;  reminding 
her,  that  if  he  suffered  innocently  it  was  by  the  will  of  God, 
and  that  it  was  her  duty  to  resign  herself  to  His  will  and 
pleasure.  Lastly,  he  enjoined  her  to  pray  for  mercy  on  his 
soul. 

' '  The  blooming  maid, 

Who  through  the  streets  as  through  a  desert  strayed  ; 
And  when  her  dear,  dear  father  passed  along, 
Would  not  be  held,  but  biirsting  through  the  throng, 
Halberd  and  battle-axe,  kissed  him  o'ej  and  o'er, 
And  turned  and  went — then  sought  him  as  before  ; 
Believing  she  should  see  his  face  no  more." 

ROGERS  :  Human  Life. 

It  was  early  on  the  morning  of  the  6th  of  July,  1535,  that 
this  illustrious  man  was  unexpectedly  visited  by  Sir  Thomas 
Pope,  who  informed  him  that  it  was  the  will  of  the  King 
and  Council  that  his  execution  should  take  place  before  nine 
o'clock  on  that  very  day.  His  reply  was  touchingly  calm 
and  dignified.  "  For  your  good  tidings,"  he  said,  "  I  heartily 
thank  you.  I  have  always  been  much  bounden  to  the  King's 
kindness  for  the  benefits  and  honours  he  hath  from  time  to 
time  heaped  upon  me ;  but  I  am  more  so  for  his  having  put 
me  into  this  place,  where  I  have  had  convenient  time  to  have 
remembrance  of  my  end,  and  that  it  pleaseth  his  highness  so 
shortly  to  rid  me  from  the  miseries  of  this  wretched  world." 
As  he  was  being  led  forth  from  the  Tower,  a  woman  in  the 
crowd  reproached  him  for  having  detained  certain  deeds 
while  he  was  in  power.  "  Good  woman,"  he  said,  "  have 
patience  but  a  little  while,  for  the  King  is  so  gracious  to  me, 
that  within  this  half -hour  he  will  discharge  me  of  all  my 
business,  and  help  thee  himself."  While  in  the  act  of  mount- 
ing the  scaffold,  he  said  to  some  one  near  him — "  Friend, 
help  me  up,  and  when  I  come  down  again,  let  me  shift  for 
myself."  The  executioner  begging  his  forgiveness — "  I  for- 


JOHN  FISHER,  BISHOP  OF  ROCHESTER.        131 

give  thee,"  he  said,  "  but  you  will  never  get  any  credit  for 
beheading  me ;  my  neck  is  so  short."  Then  laying  his  head 
upon  the  block,  he  desired  the  executioner  to  wait  till  he 
had  put  his  beard  aside ;  "  for  that,"  he  said,  "  never  com- 
mitted treason." 

Thus  perished  on  Tower  Hill,  in  his  fifty-third  year,  this 
great  ornament  of  his  age  and  country.  His  remains  were 
in  the  first  instance  buried  in  the  chapel  of  the  Tower,  but 
were  afterwards  removed  to  the  south  side  of  the  chancel  of 
Chelsea  Church.  His  head  was  fixed  on  a  pole  on  London 
Bridge,  where  it  remained  for  fourteen  days,  when  his  be- 
loved daughter  contrived  to  get  it  into  her  possession.  She 
preserved  it  in  a  leaden  box  till  the  day  of  her  death,  when, 
agreeably  with  her  own  wish,  it  was  placed  in  her  arms  and 
interred  with  her  in  the  family  vault  of  the  Ropers,  in  St. 
Dunstan's  Church,  Canterbury. 

A  fellow-prisoner  of  Sir  Thomas  More  in  the  Tower,  was 
John  Fisher,  Bishop  of  Rochester,  a  devout  and  learned 
prelate,  who  was  also  committed  for  refusing  to  admit  the 
King's  supremacy.  Notwithstanding  his  advanced  age,  for 
he  had  attained  his  eightieth  year,  the  Pope  had  recently 
conferred  on  him  the  high  dignity  of  Cardinal,  but  before 
the  purple  could  reach  England  the  venerable  prelate  was 
no  more.  On  the  17th  of  June,  1535,  he  was  tried  and 
condemned,  and  on  the  22nd  of  the  same  month  was  led 
forth  to  his  execution.  On  the  morning  of  his  death  he 
dressed  himself  with  unusual  care,  and  upon  mounting  the 
scaffold  calmly  laid  his  head  upon  the  block,  repeating  fer- 
vently the  Te  Deum. 

The  same  year  the  unfortunate  Queen,  Anne  Boleyn,  was 
committed  a  prisoner  to  the  Tower.  Less  than  three  years 
previously  she  had  issued  forth  to  her  coronation  from  under 
its  portals,  greeted  by  the  roar  of  cannon  and  the  acclama- 

0-2 


132          ANNE  BOLEYN  SENT  TO  THE  TOWER. 

tions  of  the  populace ;  the  envied  of  thousands,  the  observed 
of  all  observers  :— 

"  Then  high-born  men  were  proud  to  wait ; 
And  beauty  watched  to  imitate 

Her  gentle  voice  and  lovely  mien  ; 
And  gather  from  her  air  and  gait 

The  graces  of  their  queen  : 
Then,  had  her  eye  in  sorrow  wept, 
A  thousand  warriors  forth  had  leapt ; 
A  thousand  swords  had  sheathless  shone, 
And  made  her  quarrel  all  their  own. 
Now, — what  is  she  ?  and  what  are  they  ? 
Can  she  command  ?  or  these  obey  ? 
All  silent  and  unheeding  now, 
With  downcast  eyes,  and  knitting  brow, 
And  folded  arms,  and  freezing  air, 
And  lips  that  scarce  their  scorn  forbear, 
Her  knights  and  dames, — her  court  is  there." 

She  had  then  been  attended  by  bishops  and  mitred  ab- 
bots— by  Knights  of  the  Bath  in  their  "  violet  gowns  with 
hoods  purfelled  with  minever" — by  judges  in  their  scarlet 
robes,  and  by  peers  arrayed  in  crimson  velvet ;  while  she 
herself,  young,  beautiful,  and  joyous,  followed  in  a  fair 
chariot  drawn  by  four  milk-white  palfreys,  her  long  hair 
flowing  from  under  the  diamond  coronet  which  encircled 
her  head,  and  her  canopy,  of  cloth  of  gold,  supported  by 
the  choicest  knights  of  a  chivalrous  age.  The  scene  was. 
now  changed,  and  when,  pale,  friendless,  and  affrighted,  she 
once  more  set  her  foot  within  the  gloomy  fortress,  it  was 
never  to  cross  its  hoary  threshold  again. 

One  can  almost  imagine  the  famous  tournament  scene  at 
Greenwich,  which  immediately  preceded  the  arrest  of  Anne 
Boleyn,  when,  on  May-day,  1535,  the  handkerchief  of  the 
lovely  Queen  fell  from  her  silken  balcony  into  the  area 
below.  Whether  the  circumstance  was  intentional  or 
purely  accidental,  Henry  chose  to  interpret  it  as  an  act  of 


ANNE  BOLEYN  PASSING  THE  TRAITORS'  GATE.  133 

gallantry  to  one  of  her  presumed  paramours,  and,  inflamed 
by  his  new  passion  for  Jane  Seymour,  determined  on  the 
ruin  of  his  beautiful  Queen.  Immediately  quitting  the  gay 
scene,  he  proceeded,  accompanied  by  only  six  attendants, 
to  Westminster,  where  he  issued  prompt  orders  for  the 
arrest  of  the  Queen's  brother  Lord  Rochford,  of  Henry 
Norris,  William  Brereton,  and  Sir  Francis  Weston,  three 
officers  of  his  own  household ;  as  well  as  of  Mark  Smeaton, 
a  musician,  all  of  whom  were  accused  of  having  shared  the 
Queen's  favours,  and  who  were  severally  committed  to  the 
Tower.  The  next  day,  the  Queen  was  herself  arrested  by 
the  Duke  of  Norfolk  and  other  Lords,  by  whom,  on  her  way 
to  the  Tower  by  water,  she  was  informed  of  the  charges 
brought  against  her.  Amazed  by  so  strange  and  sudden  a 
vicissitude  in  her  fortunes,  as  she  passed  through  the 
gloomy  Traitors'  Gate  she  became  deeply  affected,  and  on 
reaching  the  landing  fell  down  on  her  knees,  and  while 
passionately  protesting  her  innocence,  fell  into  violent  hys- 
terics. As  she  hoped  God  to  help  her,  she  said,  she  was 
innocent  of  the  crime  laid  to  her  charge. 

Of  her  behaviour  when  first  admitted  into  the  fortress, 
there  is  extant  a  very  interesting  account  from  the  pen  of 
Sir  William  Kingston,  Constable  of  the  Tower.  To  Secre- 
tary Cromwell  he  writes,  "  Upon  my  lord  of  Norfolk  and 
the  King's  council  departing  from  the  Tower,  I  went  before 
the  Queen  into  her  lodging,  and  she  said  unto  me,  'Mr. 
Kingston,  shall  I  go  into  a  dungeon  ?'  '  No,  madam,  you 
shall  go  into  your  lodging  that  you  lay  in  at  your  corona- 
tion.' '  It  is  too  good  for  me,'  she  said ;  '  Jesus  have  mercy 
on  me  ;'  and  kneeled  down,  weeping  apace,  and  in  the  same 
sorrow  fell  into  a  great  laughing,  which  she  hath  done 
several  times  since.  And  then  she  desired  me  to  move  the 
King's  highness,  that  she  might  have  the  sacrament  in  the 


134     ANNE  BOLEYN'S  LETTER  TO  KING  HENRY. 

closet  by  her  chamber,  that  she  might  pray  for  mercy; 
for  '  I  am  as  clear/  she  said,  '  from  the  company  of  man, 
"as  to  sin,  as  I  am  clear  from  you,  and  am  the  King's  true 
wedded  wife.'  And  then  she  said,  'Mr.  Kingston,  do 
you  know  wherefore  I  am  here  ?'  And  I  said,  '  Nay ;' 
and  then  she  asked  me, '  When  saw  you  the  King  ?'  and 
I  said,  '  I  saw  him  not  since  I  saw  him  yesterday  in  the 
tilt-yard.'  And  then  said  she,  '  Mr.  Kingston,  I  pray  you  to 
tell  me  where  my  father  is  ?'  and  I  told  her  I  saw  him 
before  dinner  in  the  court.  'And  where  is  my  sweet 
brother  ?'  And  I  said  I  left  him  at  York  Place  [Whitehall], 
and  so  I  did.  '  I  hear  say,'  said  she,  '  that  I  shall  be  accused 
with  three  men,  and  I  can  say  no  more  than  Nay,  without  I 
should  open  my  body,'  and  therewith  opened  her  gown. 
Then  she  said,  '  Mr.  Kingston,  shall  I  die  without  justice  ?' 
And  I  said,  '  The  poorest  subject  the  King  hath,  hath  justice ;' 
and  therewith  she  laughed.  All  this  saying  was  yester- 
night." 

It  was  at  this  period  that  Anne  Boleyn  addressed  that 
touching  and  beautiful  letter  to  her  heartless  lord,  which,  as 
a  literary  composition,  is  far  superior  in  elegance  to  the 
style  of  the  age  in  which  she  lived.  The  last  paragraph,  in 
which — forgetting  her  own  misfortunes — she  eloquently 
intercedes  for  those  innocent  persons  who  had  become  in- 
volved in  her  ruined  fortunes,  is  one  which  never  fades  from 
the  memory.  "  My  last  and  only  request,"  she  writes,  "  shall 
be  that  myself  only  may  bear  the  burden  of  your  Grace's 
displeasure,  and  that  it  may  not  touch  the  innocent  souls  of 
those  four  gentlemen,  who,  as  I  understand,  are  likewise  in 
strait  imprisonment  for  my  sake.  If  ever  I  have  found 
favour  in  your  sight;  if  ever  the  name  of  Anne  Boleyn 
hath  been  pleasing  in  your  ears,  then  let  me  obtain  this 
request,  and  I  will  so  leave  off  troubling  your  Grace  any 


TRIAL  OF  ANNE  BOLEYN.  135 

farther,  with  mine  earnest  prayers  to  the  Trinity  to  have 
your  Grace  in  His  good  keeping,  and  to  direct  you  in  all 
your  actions.  From  my  doleful  prison  in  the  Tower,  this 
sixth  of  May.  Your  most  loyal  and  ever-faithful  wife, 
ANNE  BOLEYN." 

On  the  12th  of  May,  Norris,  Weston,  Brereton,  and 
Smeaton  underwent  their  trial  in  Westminster  Hall,  when 
a  verdict  of  guilty  having  been  pronounced  against  them, 
they  were  severally  executed  on  Tower  Hill,  according  to 
their  sentence.  Three  days  after  their  condemnation  the 
Queen  and  her  brother,  Lord  Rochford,  were  brought  to 
trial  in  the  great  hall  of  the  Tower.  The  jury  which  tried 
them  consisted  of  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  the  Marquis  of 
Exeter,  the  Earl  of  Arundel,  and  twenty-three  other  peers ; 
their  uncle,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  presiding  as  Lord  High 
Steward.  The  Queen  had  by  this  time  not  only  regained 
her  calmness  and  self-possession,  but  when  she  appeared 
before  the  Court  attended  by  her  ladies,  she  wore  an  aspect 
of  dignified  royalty  and  injured  innocence  which  made  a 
deep  impression  on  the  beholders.  In  those  days  the  will 
of  the  sovereign  readily  decided  the  fate  of  his  victim,  and 
accordingly  the  fair  and  innocent  Queen  was  sentenced  to 
be  either  burned  or  beheaded,  as  the  King  might  ordain. 
The  dreadful  words  were  no  sooner  uttered  than  she  arose 
in  the  midst  of  her  female  attendants,  and  in  the  most 
solemn  and  touching  manner  asseverated  her  innocence.  Had 
the  verdict  of  her  judges,  she  said,  been  given  according  to 
the  expectation  of  the  bystanders,  she  must  inevitably  have 
been  acquitted.  There  were  those,  however,  among  them, 
she  added — and  she  seems  especially  to  have  alluded  to  the 
King's  brother-in-law,  the  Duke  of  Suffolk — who,  "  applying 
themselves  to  the  King's  humour,"  were  determined  on 
effecting  her  ruin.  "  0  Father  !  O  Creator !"  she  exclaimed 


136  EXECUTION  OF  ANNE  BOLEYN. 

fervently ;  "  Thou  who  art  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life  ; 
Thou  knowest  that  I  have  not  deserved  this  death  !" 

Till  within  two  days  of  her  execution,  the  unhappy  Queen 
appears  to  have  been  buoyed  up  with  expectations  that  her 
life  would  be  spared.  The  execution  of  her  brother,  however, 
and  the  preparations  which  were  evidently  making  for  her 
own  death,  at  length  convinced  the  unfortunate  Queen  how 
little  mercy  she  had  to  expect  from  her  relentless  husband, 
and  accordingly  she  prepared  herself  to  die  with  all  the  piety 
and  resignation  at  her  command.  Only  a  few  hours  before 
her  execution,  Kingston  writes  to  Secretary  Cromwell :  "  The 
Queen  sent  for  me,  and  at  my  coming  she  said — '  Mr.  King- 
ston, I  hear  say  I  shall  not  die  before  noon,  and  I  am  very 
sorry  therefore,  for  I  thought  to  be  dead  now,  and  past  my 
pain.'  I  told  her  it  should  be  no  pain ;  it  was  so  subtle. 
Then  she  said,  'I  have  heard  say  the  executioner  is  very 
good,  and  I  have  a  little  neck ;'  and  putting  her  hands  about 
it  laughed  heartily.  I  have  seen  many  men,  and  also  women 
executed,  and  that  they  have  been  in  great  sorrow,  but,  to 
my  knowledge,  this  lady  has  much  joy  and  pleasure  in  death. 
Her  almoner  is  continually  with  her,  and  has  been  since  two 
of  the  clock  after  midnight." 

On  the  night  before  her  execution  Anne,  for  the  last  time, 
sent  a  message  to  her  husband,  protesting  her  innocence,  and 
acknowledging  the  many  favours  she  had  formerly  received 
at  his  hands.  From  a  private  gentlewoman,  she  said,  he  had 
raised  her  to  be  a  marchioness,  and  from  a  marchioness  to  be 
a  Queen,  and  now  that  he  could  raise  her  no  higher,  he  was 
sending  her  to  be  a  saint  in  Heaven.  Lastly,  she  solemnly 
recommended  her  infant  daughter  Elizabeth  to  his  paternal 
care. 

On  the  day  of  her  execution,  the  19th  of%  May,  all 
strangers  having  been  commanded  to  quit  the  Tower,  about 


EXECUTION  OF  ANNE  BOLEYN.  137 

noon  she  was  led  forth  to  the  scaffold,  which  was  erected  on 
the  green  in  front  of  the  chapel.  Among  the  persons  sum- 
moned to  be  present  were  the  Dukes  of  Suffolk  and  Rich- 
mond, and  the  Lord  Mayor,  sheriffs,  and  aldermen  of  London. 
Not  only  was  her  step  firm  and  graceful ;  and  her  counte- 
nance serene  and  cheerful,  but  it  was  remarked  that  she  had 
never  looked  more  beautiful  than  she  did  in  that  awful  hour. 
Her  beauty  and  gentleness  nearly  unmanned  the  executioner: 
the  ladies  who  attended  her  clung  to  her  in  paroxysms  of 
grief.  Anne,  who  alone  of  those  present  appeared  cheerful 
and  unmoved,  kindly  endeavoured  to  soothe  their  grief ;  at 
the  same  time  presenting  to  each  of  them  some  token  of  her 
affectionate  regard.  Then,  after  having  addressed  a  few 
words  to  the  bystanders — in  which  she  acknowledged  the 
bounties  she  had  received  from  the  King,  and  desired  the 
prayers  of  those  around  her — she  knelt  down,  and,  having 
passed  a  short  time  in  earnest  prayer,  laid  her  head  upon 
the  block  as  resignedly  as  if  it  had  been  her  pillow,  and  sub- 
mitted to  the  blow  of  the  executioner.  Her  remains,  having 
been  placed  in  a  common  elm  chest  which  had  at  one  time 
been  used  for  holding  arrows,  were  interred  without  cere- 
mony among  the  many  headless  dead  in  the  chapel  of  the 
Tower. 

The  following  year,  Lord  Thomas  Howard,  youngest  son 
of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  was  committed  to  the  Tower  for 
forming  a  clandestine  marriage  with  the  King's  niece,  Lady 
Margaret  Douglas.  Here  he  died  of  grief  after  a  short  im- 
prisonment, when  his  widow,  who  had  been  his  fellow- 
prisoner,  obtained  her  liberty. 

In  1540,  the  powerful  and  high-minded  Thomas  Crom- 
well, Earl  of  Essex,  was  disgraced  by  the  ungrateful  master 
whom  he  had  so  long  and  faithfully  served.  On  the  morning 
of  the  10th  of  June,  he  had  taken  his  seat  at  the  council- 


138  THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX  IN  THE  TOWER. 

table  as  Keeper  of  the  Privy  Seal,  Lord  Chamberlain,  and 
Master  of  the  Wards,  when  he  was  suddenly  arrested  by 
the  Duke  of  Norfolk  and  hurried  to  the  Tower.  On  the 
29th  he  was  tried  and  condemned,  ostensibly  on  charges  of 
high  treason ;  his  chief  crime,  however,  being  his  opposition 
to  the  King's  marriage  with  his  new  passion,  Catherine 
Howard.  From  the  Tower,  after  his  condemnation,  the  fallen 
minister  addressed  more  than  one  pathetic  letter  to  his  royal 
master,  "  written,"  to  use  his  own  language,  "  with  the  quak- 
ing hand  and  most  sorrowful  heart  of  a  most  sorrowful  sub- 
ject." "  I,  a  most  woeful  prisoner,"  concludes  one  of  these 
letters,  "  am  ready  to  take  the  death  when  it  shall  please 
God  and  your  majesty ;  and  yet  the  frail  flesh  incite th  me 
continually  to  call  to  your  Grace  for  mercy  and  grace  for  mine 
offences.  And  thus  Christ  save,  preserve,  and  keep  you. 
Written  at  the  Tower,  this  Wednesday,  the  last  of  June, 
with  the  heavy  heart,  and  the  trembling  hand  of  your  high- 
ness's  most  heavy,  and  most  miserable  prisoner  and  poor 
slave,  Thomas  Cromwell."  Then  a  little  below  this  he 
further  adds,  "  Most  gracious  prince,  I  cry  for  mercy,  mercy, 
mercy !" 

One  of  these  heart-rending  appeals  the  tyrant  caused  to 
be  thrice  read  over  to  him,  and  was  so  aifected  at  the  recital 
as  to  shed  tears.  The  arguments,  however,  of  Cromwell's 
deadly  enemy,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  as  well  as  the  King's 
headstrong  passion  for  Catherine  Howard,  overcame  his 
lingering  affection  for  his  old  and  faithful  servant,  and,  on 
the  28th  of  July,  Cromwell  was  led  from  the  Tower  to  the 
fatal  scaffold  on  the  adjoining  hill,  where  he  died  pious  and 
resigned. 

On  the  8th  of  August,  1540,  eleven  days  after  the  death 
of  Cromwell,  Henry  was  united  to  Catherine  Howard,  niece 
of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  the  best  beloved,  and  not  the  least 


CATHERINE  HOWARD  ACCUSED.  139 

beautiful  of  his  numerous  wives.  Fascinated  by  her  youth, 
her  loveliness,  her  agreeable  conversation  and  insinuating 
address,  the  sixteen  months  which  elapsed  between  the 
period  of  their  marriage  and  the  discovery  of  the  frailty  of 
his  young  wife,  were  perhaps  the  happiest  of  Henry's  life. 
He  himself  not  only  made  no  secret  of  his  excessive  attach- 
ment, but  on  one  occasion  publicly  returned  thanks  to  Hea- 
ven in  the  chapel-royal,  for  the  felicity  which  their  union 
had  procured  for  him ;  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln  composing 
an  especial  prayer  for  the  occasion.  At  length,  however, 
rumours  of  the  Queen's  infidelity,  and  especially  of  criminal 
conduct  on  her  part  before  marriage,  reached  the  ears  of  the 
King's  council,  and  accordingly  to  Archbishop  Cranrner  was 
committed  the  invidious  and  perilous  task  of  communicating 
to  the  unsuspecting  monarch  the  fact  that  he  had  been  de- 
ceived in  his  beautiful  Queen.  Had  Cranmer  failed  in  his 
proofs,  his  head,  as  well  as  those  of  others,  would  doubtless 
have  paid  the  penalty.  So  confident,  indeed,  was  Henry  of 
his  wife's  purity,  that  at  first  he  positively  refused  to  give 
the  least  credit  to  the  information.  When  at  length  he  was 
convinced  of  her  criminality,  he  became  so  deeply  affected 
as  to  continue  a  long  time  speechless,  and  eventually  to  burst 
into  tears.  • 

The  Queen,  on  her  arrest  taking  place,  was  conveyed  in 
the  first  instance  to  Sion,  where  she  underwent  an  exami- 
nation before  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  her  uncle  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk,  and  other  lords.  About  the  same  time, 
Lady  Rochford,  the  confidante  of  her  amours,  and  three 
gentlemen,  Mannoc,  Derham,  and  Culpepper,  on  whom  she 
was  accused  of  having  conferred  her  favours,  were  com- 
mitted to  prison.  From  Sion  she  was  conducted  in  as  pri- 
vate a  manner  as  possible  to  the  Tower ;  whither  also  were 
committed,  as  accessories  of  her  crime,  her  grandmother,  the 


140         EXECUTION  OF  CATHERINE  HOWARD. 

•old  Duchess  of  Norfolk,  her  unprincipled  confidante,  Lady 
Eochford,  her  uncle,  Lord  William  Howard,  the  Countess 
of  Bridgewater,  and  some  other  persons  of  inferior  rank. 
About  the  same  time  Derham  and  Culpepper  were  tried,  and 
hanged  at  Tyburn;  and  on  the  llth  of  January,  1542,  acts 
of  attainder  were  passed  against  the  Queen  and  Lady 
Eochford  for  high  treason. 

The  confession,  on  the  part  of  the  young  Queen,  of  a 
portion  of  the  guilt  with  which  she  was  charged,  naturally 
expedited  her  fate.  Most  strenuously,  indeed,  she  denied 
having  been  unfaithful  to  the  King  since  their  marriage,  but 
at  the  same  time  she  made  a  full  acknowledgment  of  her 
•criminality  with  Derham  in  her  unmarried  days.  At  all 
events  her  death  was  resolved  upon,  and  accordingly  on 
the  llth  of  February  she  was  executed,  at  the  same  time 
with  her  favourite,  Lady  Eochford,  on  the  green  in  front  of 
the  Tower  Chapel.  "  Since  my  writing  to  you  on  Sunday 
last,"  says  an  eye-witness,  "  I  saw  the  Queen  and  Lady 
Eochford  suffer  within  the  Tower  the  day  following ;  whose 
souls,  I  doubt  "not,  be  with  God,  for  they  made  the  most 
godly  and  Christian  end  that  ever  was  heard  tell  of,  I  think, 
since  the  world's  creation ;  uttering  their  lively  faith  in  the 
blood  of  Christ  only,  with  wonde*rful  patience  and  constancy 
to  the  death ;  and  with  goodly  words  and  steadfast  counte- 
nances, they  desired  all  Christian  people  to  take  regard  unto 
their  worthy  and  just  punishment  with  death  for  their 
offences,  and  against  God  heinously,  from  their  youth  up- 
wards, in  breaking  all  his  commandments.  Wherefore,  they 
'being  justly  condemned,  as  they  said,  by  the  laws  of  the 
realm  and  the  parliament,  to  die,  required  the  people,  I  say, 
to  take  example  at  them  for  amendment  of  their  ungodly 
lives,  and  gladly  to  obey  the  King  in  all  things :  for  whose 
preservation  they  did  heartily  pray,  and  willed  all  people  so 


TORTURE  OF  ANNE  ASKEW.  141 

to  do,  commending  their  souls  to  God,  and  earnestly  calling 
for  mercy  upon  him."  As  it  had  been  through  the  evidence 
of  Lady  Rochford  that  not  only  Queen  Anne  Boleyn,  but  her 
own  husband,  Lord  Rochford,  had  been  brought  to  the 
block,  her  fate  naturally  excited  but  little  commiseration. 
The  world,  indeed,  is  said  to  have  regarded  it  as  a  judgment 
from  heaven. 

A  lady  of  a  very  different  character  was  the  gentle  martyr, 
Anne  Askew,  one  of  the  early  sufferers  in  the  cause  of  the 
Reformed  religion.  On  her  arrival  at  the  Tower,  after  her 
trial  and  condemnation  at  Guildhall,  not  only  was  she  thrust 
into  a  miserable  dungeon  and  subjected  to  frightful  tortures, 
but  we  have  her  own  evidence,  as  well  as  that  of  Fox,  the 
Martyrologist,  that  Sir  Richard  Rich,  a  Privy  Councillor,  and 
the  Lord  Chancellor,  Sir  Thomas  Wriothesley,  actually  put 
their  hands  to  the  rack,  and  assisted  in  the  frightful  work  of 
torturing  the  noble-minded  girl.  "  Rich,"  she  writes,  in  her 
unvarnished  narrative,  "  came  to  me  with  one  of  the  council, 
charging  me,  upon  my  obedience,  to  shew  unto  them  if  I 
knew  any  man*or  woman  of  my  sect.  My  answer  was,  that 
I  knew  none.  They  asked  me  of  my  lady  Suffolk,  my  lady 
of  Sussex,  my  lady  of  Hertford,  my  lady  Denny,  and  my 
lady  Fitzwilliams.  I  said,  if  I  should  pronounce  anything 
against  them,  that  I  were  not  able  to  prove  it.  Then  they 
put  me  on  the  rack,  because  I  confessed  no  ladies  or  gentle- 
women to  be  of  my  opinion,  and  thereon  they  kept  me  a  long 
time.  And  because  I  lay  still  and  did  not  cry,  my  Lord 
Chancellor  and  Mr.  Rich  took  pain  to  rack  me  with  their 
own  hands,  till  I  was  well  nigh  dead.  Then  the  Lieutenant 
[of  the  Tower]  caused  me  to  be  loosed  from  the  rack.  In- 
continently I  swooned,  and  then  they  recovered  me  again. 
After  that,  I  sat  two  long  hours  reasoning  with  my  Lord 
Chancellor,  upon  the  bare  floor,  whereas  he,  with  many  flat- 


142  ANNE  ASKEW  AT  THE  STAKE. 

tering  words,  persuaded  me  to  leave  my  opinions.  But  my 
Lord  God — and  I  thank  his  everlasting  goodness — gave  me 
grace  to  persevere,  and  will  do,  I  hope,  to  the  end." 

Strength  indeed  was  vouchsafed  to  her  to  the  last.  Ac- 
cording to  Strype,  one  who  visited  her  in  the  Tower  a  few 
hours  before  her  execution  was  so  struck  with  the  sweet 
serenity  of  her  countenance,  that  he  compared  it  to  that  of 
St.  Stephen,  "  as  it  had  been  that  of  an  angel."  Anne  Askew 
was  burnt  to  death  at  Smithfield  in  the  presence  of  the  Duke 
of  Norfolk,  the  Earl  of  Bedford,  the  Lord  Chancellor,  and 
others,  on  the  16th  of  July,  1546.  When  led  to  the  flames, 
her  limbs  were  so  mangled  and  disjointed,  that  it  was  only 
with  the  assistance  of  two  sergeants  that  she  was  able  to 
stand.  At  the  last  moment,  immediately  before  the  torch 
was  put  to  the  faggots,  a  paper  was  presented  to  her,  con- 
taining the  King's  pardon  on  condition  of  her  recanting  her 
errors.  She  refused,  however,  not  only  to  have  the  docu- 
ment read,  but  even  to  look  at  it ;  "  whereupon,"  writes 
Ballard,  "  the  Lord  Mayor  commanded  it  to  be  put  in  the 
fire,  and  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  Fiat  Justitia;  and  fire 
being  put  to  the  faggots,  she  surrendered  up  her  pious  soul 
to  God  in  the  midst  of  the  names." 

The  last  persons  of  any  great  importance  who  were  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower  in  this  reign  were  Thomas  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk and  his  accomplished  and  ill-fated  son,  Henry  Earl  of 
Surrey.  To  the  former  venerable  nobleman,  the  King,  as 
well  as  his  country,  lay  under  deep  obligations.  In  his 
youth,  Norfolk  had  signalized  himself  in  more  than  one 
naval  enterprise;  he  had  fought  the  foremost  and  the 
bravest  on  the  famous  field  of  Flodden ;  as  Lord  Deputy  of 
Ireland  his  conduct  had  gained  the  approbation  of  all  men  ; 
he  had  suppressed  a  dangerous  insurrection  in  the  North ; 
on  the  King's  advance  to  Boulogne,  in  1544,  he  had  com- 


IMPRISONMENT  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  NORFOLK.  143 

manded  the  vanguard  of  the  army  ;  and  lastly,  he  had  more 
than  once  vanquished  the  Scots  on  their  own  territory. 
Allied  to  the  blood-royal  by  his  descent  from  the  ancient 
family  of  the  Mowbrays — still  more  closely  allied  to  it  by 
his  marriage  with  a  daughter  of  Edward  the  Fourth,  and  by 
his  two  nieces,  Catherine  Howard  and  Anne  Boleyn,  having 
been  successively  Queens  of  England — it  was  only  natural 
that  so  jealous  a  sovereign  as  Henry  should  have  regarded 
the  power  and  popularity  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  with  sus- 
picion and  dread.  Accordingly,  in  the  month  of  December, 
1546,  the  Duke  was  suddenly  arrested  and  committed  to  the 
Tower.  To  the  ambassadors  abroad  it  was  given  out  that 
the  Duke  and  his  son,  Lord  Surrey,  had  conspired  to  take  on 
them  the  government  during  the  King's  life,  and  after  his 
death  to  get  the  person  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  into  their 
power.  Another  charge  against  the  Duke,  was  his  having 
quartered  the  arms  of  Edward  the  Confessor  with  his  own ; 
whereas  not  only  had  his  ancestors  long  so  quartered  them, 
but  he  himself  had  often  worn  them  in  the  King's  presence. 
On  the  14th  of  January,  1547,  the  House  of  Peers,  without 
examining  the  prisoner,  without  trial  or  evidence,  passed  a 
bill  of  attainder  against  the  Duke ;  the  29th  being  named  as 
the  day  for  his  execution. 

In  the  mean  time  the  gay  and  gallant  Earl  of  Surrey — the 
soldier,  the  scholar,  the  courtier,  and  the  poet — had  been 
committed  to  the  Tower  with  his  venerable  father.  Not 
being  a  peer  of  the  realm,  he  was  tried  before  a  common 
jury  at  Guildhall,  where  he  was  arraigned  on  the  13th  of 
January.  His  answers  to  the  questions  put  to  him  were  re- 
markable for  their  judgment  and  acuteness.  His  defence  was 
eloquent,  dignified,  and  spirited.  Nevertheless  he  was  found 
guilty  of  high  treason,  and  accordingly,  when  re-conducted 
to  the  Tower,  it  was  with  the  edge  of  the  fatal  axe  turned 


144  ESCAPE  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  NORFOLK. 

towards  him.     Six  days  afterwards,  on  the  19th  of  January,, 
he  was  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill. 

The  Duke  of  Norfolk  was  more  fortunate  than  his  accom- 
plished son.  His  sentence,  as  we  have  said,  was  to  have  been 
carried  into  effect  on  the  29th  of  January,  but  on  the  pre- 
vious day  Henry,  whose  health  had  been  long  failing, 
providentially  breathed  his  last.  The  Duke,  who  survived 
till  the  reign  of  Queen  Mary,  lived  to  preside  at  the  trial  of 
his  powerful  rival,  John  Dudley,  Duke  of  Northumberland, 
and  when  upwards  of  eighty  years  of  age  appeared  in  arms 
at  the  suppression  of  Wyatt's  rebellion.  The  fact  is  a 
remarkable  one  that  he  should  have  lived  in  the  reigns  of 
eight  sovereigns. 

During  the  religious  persecutions  which  prevailed  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  the  dungeons  of  the  Tower  were 
crowded  with  hundreds  of  human  beings  who  were  stigma- 
tized with  the  name  of  heretics ;  its  vaulted  chambers  and 
passages  almost  daily  echoing  back  the  shrieks  extorted  by 
the  frightful  tortures  of  the  rack.  Here,  too,  in  this  reign, 
were  committed  the  Earls  of  Casillis  and  Glencairn,  and 
many  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  Scottish  nobility  who  had 
been  taken  prisoners  at  the  battle  of  Solway.  Again,  in 
1537,  after  the  suppression  of  the  insurrections  in  the  north 
of  England,  the  dungeons  of  the  Tower  were  peopled  with  a 
host  of  prisoners,  of  whom  Lord  Darcy  was  beheaded  on 
Tower  Hill,  Lord  Hussey  at  Lincoln,  and  Sir  Robert  Con- 
stable hanged  in  chains  at  Hull.  Others,  including  the 
abbots  of  Fontaine,  Ryval,  and  Jervaux  were  executed  at 
Tyburn.  Here  were  imprisoned  the  two  unworthy  favourites 
of  Henry  the  Seventh,  Sir  Richard  Empson  and  Edmund 
Dudley,  both  of  whom  were  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill.  Here 
also,  at  a  later  period,  were  confined  the  Marquis  of  Exeter ; 
Henry  Pole,  Lord  Montague ;  Sir  Edward  Neville,  brother  of 


DEATH  OF  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  145 

Lord  Abergavenny ;  and  Sir  Nicholas  Carew,  all  of  whom, 
having  been  condemned  to  death  for  carrying  on  a  treason- 
able correspondence  with  Cardinal  Pole,  fell  by  the  axe  of 
the  executioner  on  the  adjoining  hill.  Lastly,  the  singular 
fate  of  Arthur  Plantagenet,  Viscount  Lisle,  demands  a  passing 
notice.  This  nobleman,  an  illegitimate  son  of  King  Edward 
the  Fourth,  had  been  committed  to  the  fortress  on  suspicion 
of  being  engaged  in  a  conspiracy  to  deliver  over  the  town  of 
Calais,  of  which  he  was  the  governor,  to  the  French.  Subse- 
quently, however,  his  innocence  having  been  clearly  proved, 
Henry  sent  his  secretary,  Sir  Thomas  Wriothesley,  with  a 
present  of  a  diamond  ring  to  the  prisoner  as  a  token  that  he 
was  restored  to  favour  and  to  life.  The  communication  pro- 
duced a  different  effect  to  what  was  intended.  So  over- 
powered was  Lord  Lisle  by  the  joyful  tidings  and  by  the 
suddenness  of  the  communication,  that  he  was  seized  with 
convulsions  of  which  he  expired  the  same  night. 

Henry  the  Eighth,  as  we  have  already  mentioned,  died  on 
the  28th  of  January,  1547 ;  two  days  after  which  event  his 
son  and  successor,  Edward  the  Sixth,  then  in  his  tenth  year, 
was  conducted  with  great  parade  to  the  Tower,  amidst  the 
roar  of  cannon  and  the  acclamations  of  the  populace.  The 
next  day,  the  royal  child  was  placed  on  a  throne  in  the 
chamber  of  presence,  where  the  principal  nobility  knelt  to 
him  and  kissed  his  hand.  Here,  a  few  days  afterwards,  he 
was  knighted  by  his  maternal  uncle,  the  Protector  Somerset, 
and  hence,  on  the  20th  of  February,  he  was  conducted  in 
great  state  to  his  coronation  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

The  first  prisoner  of  importance  committed  to  the  Tower 
after  the  accession  of  the  young  King,  was  his  own  uncle, 
Thomas  Lord  Seymour  of  Sudley,  Lord  High  Admiral  of 
England,  a  nobleman  no  less  conspicuous  from  his  high 
courage,  his  commanding  figure,  his  graceful  manners  and 

VOL.   II.  10 


146          LORD  SEYMOUR  SENT  TO  THE  TOWER. 

his  success  with  the  fair  sex,  than  for  his  arrogance  to  his 
equals,  his  implacable  animosities,  and  his  insatiable  ambition. 
By  his  insinuating  address  he  had  contrived  to  win  the 
affections  of  Henry's  widow,  Catherine  Parr,  to  whom  he 
was  married  within  so  short  an  interval  after  that  King's, 
death,  that,  had  she  borne  a  living  child,  it  would  have  been 
difficult  to  identify  its  father.  The  Queen  dying  shortly 
afterwards  in  childbed,  Lord  Seymour  had  the  boldness  ta 
fix  his  views  on  the  King's  sister,  the  young  Princess  Eliza- 
beth. That  he  not  only  succeeded  in  insinuating  himself 
into  her  good  graces,  but  that  some  familiarities  of  a  rather 
delicate  nature  passed  between  the  Lord  High  Admiral  and 
the  young  Princess  there  can  be  no  question.  For  instance, 
at  one  time  we  find  him  romping  with  her  and  "  cutting  her 
gown  into  a  hundred  pieces,"  in  the  garden  at  Hanworth ; 
while  on  another  occasion  we  discover  him  entering  her 
chamber  before  she  had  risen,  whereon,  we  are  told,  "  she 
ran  out  of  her  bed  to  her  maidens,  and  then  went  behind 
the  curtains  of  her  bed."  But  with  Lord  Seymour  love 
was  only  a  secondary  consideration.  Aware  that  his  brother, 
the  Protector,  would  never  consent  to  his  marriage  with  the 
Princess,  he  entered  into  a  dark  and  deep-laid  plot,  the 
principal  objects  of  which  were  to  supplant  his  brother  in 
the  Protectorship,  and  to  gain  possession  of  the  King's  per- 
son and  affections. 

It  could  only  have  been  from  a  stern  and  melancholy 
necessity  that  a  man  so  amiable  as  the  Protector  could  have 
been  induced  to  sanction  those  violent  measures  which  led 
his  brother  to  the  block.  Having  previously  deprived  him 
of  the  office  of  High  Admiral,  the  Protector,  on  the  19th  of 
January,  1549,  signed  a  warrant  for  his  committal  to  the 
Tower.  In  vain  Lord  Seymour  pleaded  to  be  brought  to 
an  open  trial.  On  the  26th  of  February,  the  bill  for  his 
\ 


THE  DUKE  OF  SOMERSET  IMPRISONED.        147 

attainder  passed  the  House  of  Lords ;  on  the  4th  of  March 
it  was  ratified,  with  only  a  few  dissentient  voices,  by  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  on  the  following  day  the  young 
King  gave  his  assent  to  the  execution  of  his  own  uncle,  and 
the  Protector  signed  the  death-warrant  of  his  own  brother. 
At  his  own  request  he  was  attended  by  the  celebrated  Bishop 
Latimer,  who,  in  one  of  his  sermons,  informs  us  that  the 
Lord  Admiral  died  "  very  dangerously,  irksomely,  horribly." 
He  fell  by  the  axe  on  Tower  Hill,  on  the  20th  of  March, 
1549. 

The  ruin  of  the  great  Protector — brought  about  by  his 
turbulent  and  ambitious  rival,  John  Dudley,  Duke  of  Nor- 
thumberland— followed  shortly  after  that  of  his  brother. 
On  the  6th  of  October,  1551,  Lord  St.  John,  President  of 
the  Council,  the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  the  Earls  of 
Southampton  and  Arundel,  and  five  other  members  of  the 
Privy  Council  met  at  Ely  House,  Holborn,  and  after  attri- 
buting to  him  every  misfortune  which  of  late  had  befallen 
the  nation,  came  to  the  bold  determination  of  acting  inde- 
pendent of  his  authority.  These  astounding  tidings  no 
sooner  reached  the  ears  of  the  Protector,  than  he  removed 
the  young  King  from  Hampton  Court  to  Windsor,  and,  by 
arming  his  friends  and  retainers,  showed  how  resolved  he 
was  to  defend  himself  to  the  last.  Great,  however,  and 
deserved  as  was  his  popularity  with  the  lower  classes,  the 
Protector  found,  to  his  grief  and  consternation,  that  scarcely 
one  person  of  rank  was  prepared  to  rise  in  his  favour, 
and  consequently  that  his  days  of  power  were  numbered. 
On  the  17th  of  October  he  was  sent  to  the  Tower  with 
several  of  his  friends  and  adherents,  and  on  the  1st  of 
December  following  was  brought  to  trial  before  a  solemn 
assemblage  of  peers  in  Westminster  Hall ;  the  Marquis  of 
Winchester  sitting  as  Lord  High  Steward.  The  charges 

10—2 


148         THE  DUKE  OF  SOMERSET  BEHEADED. 

on  which,  he  was  arraigned  were  those  of  high  treason  and 
felony;  on  the  former  of  which  he  was  acquitted,  but 
having  been  found  guilty  of  the  second  charge  it  afforded 
quite  sufficient  pretext  for  his  enemies  to  condemn  him  to 
the  block.  Accordingly,  from  Westminster  he  was  con- 
ducted by  water  to  London  Bridge,  and  thence,  escorted  by 
a  strong  guard,  through  the  streets  to  his  former  apartment 
in  the  Tower.  His  execution  took  place  on  the  22nd  of 
January,  on  Tower  Hill.  Ascending  the  fatal  stage  with  a 
firm  step  and  cheerful  countenance,  he  knelt  down,  and 
lifting  up  his  hands,  commended  his  soul  to  God.  He  then 
addressed  himself  to  the  multitude,  and  had  proceeded  at 
some  length  in  his  speech,  when  a  painful  incident  inter- 
rupted his  devotions.  Suddenly,  Sir  Anthony  Brown  was 
seen  riding  towards  the  scaffold,  on  which  the  people, 
raising  a  loud  cry  of  joy,  and  throwing  up  their  caps, 
shouted — "  A  pardon,  a  pardon,  God  save  the  King !"  The 
mistake,  however,  was  soon  discovered,  on  which  the  Duke, 
without  the  least  discomposure,  waved  his  hand  to  the 
people  in  order  to  obtain  their  silence,  and  then  calmly 
continued  his  harangue. 

Having  concluded,  he  again  knelt  down  to  his  devotions, 
and  then,  having  once  more  risen  up,  took  an  affectionate 
leave  of  the  Sheriffs  and  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  at 
the  same  time  presenting  the  executioner  with  some  money. 
He  then  untied  his  shirt-strings,  and  again  knelt  down  in  the 
straw,  himself  covering  his  face  with  his  handkerchief.  To 
the  last,  not  only  did  his  countenance  appear  unmoved  by 
the  fear  of  death,  but  it  was  observed  that,  if  anything,  his 
cheeks  had  more  colour  in  them  than  usual.  After  placing 
his  head  upon  the  block,  he  repeated  three  times — "  Lord 
Jesus,  save  me  !"  and  at  the  last  time  of  uttering  the  words, 
the  axe  fell  and  separated  his  head  from  his  body.  His 


DEATH  OF  EDWARD  THE  SIXTH,  149 

remains,  Laving  been  placed  in  a  coffin,  were  carried  back  to 
the  Tower,  and  interred  between  the  bodies  of  Anne  Boleyn 
and  Catherine  Howard.  Thus  died  the  great  Protector, 
Edward  Duke  of  Somerset !  After  the  axe  had  fallen  many 
of  the  crowd  rushed  on  the  scaffold,  and  dipping  their  hand- 
kerchiefs in  his  blood,  preserved  them  as  precious  relics. 
Some  years  afterwards,  when  Somerset's  rival,  the  Duke  of 
Northumberland,  was  being  carried  a  prisoner  to  the  Tower, 
many  persons  crowded  round  him,  and  shaking  their  bloody 
handkerchiefs  in  his  face,  upbraided  him  with  his  cruelty  to 
their  favourite  Duke. 

Of  the  Protector's  friends  and  partisans  who  were  com- 
mitted with  him  to  the  Tower,  the  Earl  of  Arundel,  Lords 
Grey  and  Paget,  and  others  escaped  with  an  imprisonment 
of  more  or  less  duration.  Sir  Ralph  Vane,  a  brave  and 
veteran  soldier,  Sir  Michael  Stanhope,  a  relation  of  Somer- 
set, Sir  Thomas  Arundel,  and  Sir  Miles  Partridge  were  less 
fortunate.  All  four  were  executed  on  the  same  day,  the 
26th  of  February,  on  Tower  Hill ;  Arundel  and  Stanhope 
by  the  axe,  and  Vane  and  Partridge  on  the  gallows.  Sir 
Ralph  Vane,  having  fought  gallantly  on  many  fields  of 
battle,  and  also  having  conducted  his  defence  at  his  trial 
with  great  ability,  died  much  lamented.  "When  pressed  to 
petition  for  his  life  he  refused  to  make  the  required  submis- 
sion. "  The  wars,"  he  said,  "  have  now  ended,  and  the 
coward  and  the  courageous  are  alike  esteemed." 

Edward  the  Sixth  expired  at  Greenwich  on  the  6th  of 
July,  1553,  in  the  sixteenth  year  of  his  age.  Unfortunately, 
shortly  before  his  decease  he  had  been  prevailed  upon  by 
the  Duke  of  Northumberland  to  pass  over  his  sisters,  Mary 
and  Elizabeth,  and  to  bequeath  his  crown  to  the  Duke's 
daughter-in-law,  Lady  Jane  Grey,  great-granddaughter  of 
Henry  the  Seventh  by  the  marriage  of  Mary,  daughter  of 


150       LADY  JANE  GREY  PROCLAIMED  QUEEN. 

that  monarch,  to  Charles  Duke  of  Suffolk.  It  should  be 
mentioned  that  immediately  after  the  King's  death  this 
measure  had  been  confirmed  by  the  Privy  Council  and  the 
several  judges ;  Sir  James  Hale  alone  refusing  to  give  his 
assent. 

The  breath  had  no  sooner  quitted  the  King's  body  than 
Northumberland,  accompanied  by  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  the 
Earl  of  Pembroke,  and  others  of  the  nobility,  proceeded  to 
Sion  House,  where  Lady  Jane  was  then  residing,  and  where 
they  did  homage  to  her  as  their  sovereign.  At  the  same 
time  she  was  proclaimed  Queen  of  England  with  the  usual 
solemnities ;  and  on  the  9th  of  July  was  conducted  in  state 
to  the  royal  apartments  in  the  Tower. 

In  the  mean  time  Mary,  the  rightful  successor,  had  with- 
drawn to  Framlingham  Castle,  in  Suffolk,  whither  there 
•flocked  to  her  so  many  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  with 
military  reinforcements,  that  it  soon  became  evident,  even 
to  the  aspiring  Northumberland,  that  all  hope  of  retaining 
the  crown  on  the  head  of  his  daughter-in-law  was  at  an  end. 
In  particular  he  was  affected  by  the  coldness  of  the  people. 
"  Many,"  he  said  to  Lord  Grey,  "  come  to  look  at  us,  but  I 
find  no  one  cries,  God  speed  you .'"  Deserted  by  his  friends 
and  followers,  he  was  arrested  at  Cambridge  by  the  Earl  of 
Arundel  on  the  25th  of  July,  and  forthwith  committed  to 
the  Tower.  At  the  same  time  were  sent  to  the  same  fortress 
his  three  sons,  the  Earl  of  Warwick  and  Lords  Ambrose  and 
Henry  Dudley ;  his  brother,  Sir  Andrew  Dudley ;  the  Earl 
of  Huntingdon;  Lord  Hastings;  Sir  Thomas  Palmer;  Sir 
Henry  and  Sir  John  Gates ;  and  Dr.  Sandys ;  the  latter  of 
whom  had  preached  a  sermon  at  Cambridge  on  behalf  of  the 
claims  of  the  Lady  Jane.  Two  days  afterwards,  the  Duke 
of  Suffolk,  Lady  Jane  Grey,  and  her  husband  Lord  Guildford 
Dudley,  were  committed  to  the  Tower. 


NORTHUMBERLAND  BEHEADED.  151 

Notwithstanding  Northumberland's  established  reputation 
for  courage,  the  manner  in  which  he  encountered  his  reverse 
of  fortunes  was  widely  different  from  the  pious  fortitude  and 
resignation  which,  under  similar  melancholy  circumstances, 
had  distinguished  his  rival  and  victim,  the  Duke  of  Somerset. 
When  arrested  by  his  enemy,  the  Earl  of  Arundel,  he  fell  on 
his  knees  before  that  nobleman,  and  passionately  implored 
him  to  intercede  for  his  life.     Again,  on  the  day  before  his 
execution,  we  find  him  addressing  the  following  appeal  to 
the  Earl — "  Honourable  Lord,  and  in  this  my  distress  my 
.especial  refuge,  most  woeful  was  the  news  I  received  this 
evening  by  Mr.  Lieutenant,  that  I   must   prepare   myself 
against  to-morrow  to  receive  my  deadly  stroke.     Alas  !  my 
good  lord,  is  my  crime  so  heinous  as  no  redemption  but  my 
blood  can  wash  away  the  spots  thereof  ?    An  old  proverb 
there  is,  and  it  is  most  true,  that  a  living  dog  is  better  than 
a  dead  lion.     Oh  !  that  it  would  please  her  good  Grace  to 
give  me  life,  yea,  the  life  of  a  dog,  if  I  might  but  live  and 
kiss  her  feet,  and  spend  both  life  and  all  in  her  honourable 
service,  as  I  have  done  the  best  part  already  under  her 
worthy  brother  and  most  glorious  father.      Oh !  that  her 
mercy  were  such  as  she  would  consider  how  little  profit  my 
dead  and  dismembered  body  can  bring  her ;  but  how  great 
and  glorious  an  hour  it  will  be  in  all  posterities,  when  the 
report  shall  be  that  so  gracious  and  mighty  a  queen  had 
granted  life  to  so  miserable  and  penitent  an  object."     All  his 
entreaties,  however,  proved  of  no  avail.      On  the  22nd  of 
November,  the  Duke,  together  with  Sir  Thomas  Palmer  and 
Sir  John  Gates,  were  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill  in  the  pre- 
sence of  an  immense  assemblage  of  people.     At  his  execution 
he  confessed  the  justice  of  his  sentence,  and  professing  him- 
self a  firm  believer  in  the  "  old  religion,"  he  told  the  multi- 
tude that  they  would  have  no  tranquillity  till  they  returned 


152  ACCESSION  OF  QUEEN  MARY. 

to  the  faith  of  their  ancestors.  Having  concluded  his  speech, 
he  "  put  off  his  gown  of  swan-coloured  damask,"  and  then 
laying  his  head  on  the  block,  he  covered  his  eyes,  and  sub- 
mitted to  the  stroke  of  the  executioner. 

In  the  mean  time,  Queen  Mary,  on  the  3rd  of  August,  had 
been  conducted  with  great  state  and  magnificence  to  the 
royal  apartments  in  the  Tower.  Here  she  continued  to  hold 
her  court  till  after  the  funeral  of  her  brother,  King  Edward, 
on  which  occasion,  though  she  permitted  him  to  be  buried 
according  to  the  rites  of  the  Protestant  faith,  she  caused  a 
solemn  requiem  to  be  offered  up  for  his  soul  in  her  chapel  in 
the  Tower.  In  October  following  we  find  her  holding  her 
court  in  the  royal  fortress,  and  it  was  thence,  on  the  1st  of 
that  month,  that  she  proceeded  in  great  state  to  her  corona- 
tion in  Westminster  Abbey. 

On  her  first  entering  the  great  court  of  the  Tower,  a  pain- 
ful spectacle  had  met  Queen  Mary's  eyes.  "  Kneeling  on  the 
green  before  St.  Peter's  Church,"  writes  her  biographer, 
"were  the  state-prisoners,  male  and  female,  Catholic  and 
Protestant,  who  had  been  detained  lawlessly  in  the  fortress, 
during  the  reigns  of  Henry  the  Eighth  and  Edward  the  Sixth. 
There  was  Edward  Courtenay,  the  heir  to  the  Earl  of  Devon- 
shire, now  in  the  pride  of  manly  beauty,  who  had  grown  up 
a  prisoner  in  the  Tower  from  his  tenth  year.  There  was 
another  early  friend  of  the  Queen,  the  wretched  Duchess  of 
Somerset.  There  was  the  aged  Duke  of  Norfolk,  still  under 
sentence  of  death.  There  were  the  deprived  Bishops  of 
Durham  and  Winchester — the  mild  Cuthbert  Tunstall  and 
the  haughty  Stephen  Gardiner — which  last  addressed  a  con- 
gratulation and  supplication  to  the  Queen  in  the  name  of 
all.  Mary  burst  into  tears  as  she  recognised  them,  and,, 
extending  her  hands  to  them,  she  exclaimed — "  Ye  are  my 
prisoners  ! "  she  raised  them  one  by  one,  kissed  them,  and 


CHARACTER  OF  LADY  JANE  GREY.  15S 

gave  them  their  liberty.*  Their  places,  however,  were  merely 
vacated  to  make  room  for  fresh  prisoners ;  indeed,  during 
Mary's  reign  there  seems  scarcely  to  have  been  a  week  but 
the  Tower  opened  its  gates  either  to  admit  some  new  victims 
or  to  send  forth  some  miserable  wretch  to  the  axe  or  to  the 
stake. 

Replete  as  is  the  Tower  with  historical  associations  of 
deep  interest,  there  is  no  story  connected  with  it  half  so 
affecting  as  that  of  the  young,  the  lovely,  and  ill-fated  Lady 
Jane  Grey ;  a  story,  of  which  Fox  tells  us,  that,  when  writ- 
ing it  in  his  "  Book  of  Martyrs,"  the  tears  burst  from  his 
eyes.  Distinguished  as  much  by  the  sweetness  of  her  dis- 
position and  her  unaffected  piety  as  by  her  high  birth,  her 
deep  learning,  her  playful  wit,  her  surpassing  loveliness,  and 
her  extraordinary  female  accomplishments,  the  Lady  Jane, 
to  the  age  of  eighteen,  had  lived  a  life  of  comparative  seclu- 
sion. We  have  the  authority  both  of  her  tutor  Aylmer,  and 
of  Queen  Elizabeth's  tutor,  Ascham,  that  at  that  early  age 
Lady  Jane  was  a  perfect  mistress  of  the  Greek,  Latin,  French, 
and  Italian  languages,  and  was  also  acquainted  with  the 
Hebrew,  Chaldee,  and  Arabic.  She  played  on  several 
musical  instruments;  sang  to  her  own  accompaniments; 
wrote  a  beautiful  hand,  and  excelled  in  various  kinds  of 
needlework.  "  Before  I  went  into  Germany,"  writes  Ascham, 
"  I  came  to  Broadgate,  in  Leicestershire,  to  take  my  leave  of 
that  noble  lady,  the  Lady  Jane  Grey,  to  whom  I  was  exceed- 
ing much  beholden.  Her  parents,  the  Duke  and  Duchess, 
and  all  the  household,  gentlemen  and  gentlewomen,  were 
hunting  in  the  park.  I  found  her  in  her  chamber  reading 
the  '  Phsedon '  of  Plato,  Greek,  and  that  with  as  much  delight 
as  some  gentlemen  would  read  a  merry  tale  in  Boccaccio. 
After  salutation  and  duty  done,  with  some  other  talk,  I 

*  Miss  Strickland's  "Lives  of  the  Queens  of  England,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  441. 


154  TRIAL  OF  LADY  JANE  GREY. 

asked  her  why  she  should  lose  such  pastime  in  the  park. 
Smiling  she  answered  me,  '  All  their  sport  in  the  park  is  but 
a  shadow  to  that  pleasure  I  find  in  Plato.'  However  illus- 
trious she  was  by  fortune,  and  by  royal  extraction,"  adds 
Ascham,  "  these  bore  no  proportion  to  the  accomplishments 
of  her  mind,  adorned  with  the  doctrine  of  Plato,  and  the 
eloquence  of  Demosthenes." 

To  one  so  retiring  and  so  passionately  attached  to  litera- 
ture and  the  arts,  the  glitter  of  a  crown  and  the  frivolities 
of  a  court  could  offer  but  slight  charms.  Accordingly,  when 
waited  upon  at  Sion  House  by  her  father  and  father-in-law, 
the  Dukes  of  Suffolk  and  Northumberland,  and  congratu- 
lated by  them  as  Queen  of  England,  she  not  only  expressed 
the  greatest  reluctance  to  quit  a  private  station  and  the 
happy  circle  of  which  she  was  the  idol ;  but  it  was  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  that  she  was  at  last  induced  to  yield  to  their 
urgent  entreaties.  The  story  of  her  short  reign  of  ten  days 
is  well  known.  On  the  27th  of  July,  1553,  she  was  sent 
back  a  prisoner  to  the  very  fortress  which  she  had  so  lately 
entered  as  Queen ;  whence,  on  the  13th  of  November — 
together  with  her  husband,  Lord  Guildford  Dudley,  Arch- 
bishop Cranmer,  and  Lords  Ambrose  and  Henry  Dudley — 
she  was  escorted  by  a  guard  of  four  hundred  men  to  take 
her  trial  at  Guildhall  for  high  treason.  As  she  stood  at  the 
bar  on  that  solemn  occasion,  her  youth  and  loveliness,  and 
the  fame  which  had  gone  abroad  of  her  extraordinary  learn- 
ing and  the  sweetness  of  her  disposition,  rendered  her  the 
object  of  universal  commiseration.  Throughout  the  long 
and  tedious  day  her  voice  never  faltered,  and  even  when 
the  awful  sentence  of  death  was  passed  on  her,  although 
every  other  eye  was  moist  in  that  crowded  assembly,  the 
colour  never  for  a  moment  faded  from  her  cheeks. 

The  short  remnant  of  life  which  was  left  to  the  Lady 


LADY  JANE  GREY  AFTER  SENTENCE.  155 

Jane  was  passed  by  her  in  preparing  herself  for  death,  and 
in  writing  some  tender  letters  to  those  who  were  near  and 
dear  to  her.  To  her  father  she  wrote,  affectionately  for- 
giving him  for  the  share  which  he  had  in  bringing  her  to 
the  block,  and  fervently  recommending  him  to  the  care  of 
the  Almighty.  "  My  death,"  she  concludes,  "  although  to 
you  it  may  seem  woeful,  yet  to  me  there  is  nothing  that  can 
be  more  welcome  than  from  this  vale  of  misery  to  aspire  to 
that  heavenly  throne  of  all  joy  and  pleasure  with  my  Christ 
and  Saviour ;  in  whose  steadfast  faith  (if  it  be  lawful  for  the 
daughter  so  to  write  to  the  father)  the  Lord  that  hath 
hitherto  strengthened  you,  so  continue  to  keep  you,  that 
at  the  last  we  may  meet  in  Heaven."  A  short  time  be- 
fore her  death,  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  who  appears 
to  have  taken  a  deep  interest  in  his  beautiful  prisoner,  pre- 
ferred a  touching  request  to  her  to  write  a  short  sentence 
in  his  manual  of  devotion  by  which  he  might  remember 
her.  Accordingly,  taking  up  her  pen,  she  addressed  to 
him,  "  as  a  friend,"  a  solemn  admonition,  in  which  she  ad- 
vised him  of  the  importance  of  religion,  and  conjured  him 
so  to  live  that  by  death  he  might  inherit  eternal  life.  About 
the  same  time,  while  her  handmaidens  were  weeping  in  an 
adjoining  apartment,  she  took  up  a  Greek  Testament,  and, 
in  the  Greek  language,  wrote  in  its  blank  pages  an  affec- 
tionate letter  to  her  sister  Lady  Catherine,  enjoining  one  of 
her  attendants  to  deliver  the  volume  to  the  beloved  person 
to  whom  the  letter  was  addressed. 

It  had  been  originally  intended  that  Lady  Jane  and  her 
husband,  Lord  Guildford  Dudley,  should  be  executed  to- 
gether on  the  same  scaffold  on  Tower  Hill,  but  eventually 
the  Privy  Council  decided  that  Lady  Jane  should  be  exe- 
cuted separately  within  the  precincts  of  the  Tower.  Lord 
Guildford,  on  learning  that  they  were  to  die  apart,  expressed 


156  EXECUTION  OF  LORD  DUDLEY. 

a  strong  desire  to  be  allowed  a  last  interview  with  his  young 
wife  ;  but  Lady  Jane,  fearing  that  the  scene  might  unnerve 
them  both,  had  strength  of  mind  enough  to  refuse  his  last 
request.  "  Tell  him,"  she  said,  "  that  our  separation  is 
but  momentary,  and  that  we  shall  soon  meet  in  heaven, 
where  our  love  will  know  no  interruption,  and  where  our 
joys  and  felicities  will  be  for  ever  and  ever."  Lord  Guild- 
ford,  a  gallant  youth  of  eighteen,  was  the  first  led  forth  to 
execution ;  Lady  Jane  standing  at  her  prison  window  and 
waving  her  hand  as  a  parting  adieu  to  him  as  he  passed  to 
the  scaffold  on  Tower  Hill.  At  the  outer  gate  he  shook 
hands  affectionately  with  Sir  Anthony  Brown  and  others, 
and  having  requested  their  prayers,  proceeded  with  a  modest 
dignity  to  the  scaffold.  Having  ascended  the  fatal  steps,  he 
prayed  for  a  short  time  calmly  and  fervently,  and  then  as 
calmly  laid  his  head  upon  the  block.  Lady  Jane,  when  in- 
formed of  the  serenity  with  which  he  had  met  his  fate, 
seems  to  have  been  relieved  of  her  last  earthly  anxiety. 
"  Oh,  Guildford,  Guildford  !"  she  exclaimed,  "  the  ante-repast 
is  not  so  bitter  that  thou  hast  tasted  and  which  I  shall  soon 
taste,  as  to  make  my  flesh  tremble ;  it  is  nothing  compared 
to  the  feast  of  which  we  shall  partake  this  day  in  heaven." 
The  fact  is  a  painful  one  to  contemplate,  that  as  she  was 
standing  at  the  window,  the  cart  bearing  the  headless  body 
of  her  husband  passed  by. 

It  was  almost  at  this  moment  that  Sir  John  Gage,  the 
Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  came  to  summon  her  to  the  scaffold. 
Rising  cheerfully  from  her  seat,  and  presenting  him  with  her 
hand,  she  was  led  by  him  to  the  green  in  front  of  the  chapel, 
the  spot  on  which  Anne  Boleyn  and  Catherine  Howard  had 
previously  bared  their  slender  necks  to  the  executioner. 
Having  addressed  a  short  speech  to  the  bystanders,  and 
her  devotions  being  ended,  she  submitted  herself  to  her 


LADY  JANE  GREY  BEHEADED.  157 

female  attendants,  who  proceeded  to  unrobe  her.  "Her 
gloves  and  handkerchief,"  writes  Fox,  "she  gave  to  her 
maiden,  Mistress  Ellen,  and  her  book  to  Master  Bridges,  the 
Lieutenant's  brother-in-law ;  and,  as  she  began  to  untie  her 
gown,  the  executioner  attempted  to  assist  her,  but  she  re- 
quested him  to  let  her  alone,  and  turned  to  her  two  gentle- 
women, who  helped  her  off  therewith,  giving  her  a  fair  hand- 
kerchief to  bind  about  her  eyes."  The  executioner  •  then 
knelt  down  and  asked  her  forgiveness,  which  she  cheerfully 
granted.  After  this,  with  a  steady  and  serene  countenance, 
she  knelt  down  on  the  straw,  and  tied  over  her  eyes  the  hand- 
kerchief which  her  ladies  had  presented  to  her.  She  then 
stretched  out  her  hands  towards  the  block,  but  not  feeling 
it,  she  exclaimed — "  What  shall  I  do  ?  where  is  it,  where  is 
it  ?"  One  of  the  bystanders  having  directed  her  hands  to- 
wards it,  she  calmly  laid  her  neck  upon  it,  and  while  fer- 
vently pronouncing  the  words,  "  Lord,  into  thy  hands  I 
commend  my  spirit,"  the  executioner  at  one  blow  severed 
her  head  from  her  body. 

On  the  17th  of  February,  five  days  after  his  daughter's 
death,  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  was  arraigned  before  his  peers 
in  Westminster  Hall.  Having  been  found  guilty  of  high 
treason,  he  was  re-conducted  to  the  Tower,  and  on  the  21st 
was  led  forth  to  execution.  As  his  rashness  and  ambition 
had  been  the  cause  of  so  much  bloodshed,  and  especially  as 
it  had  occasioned  the  untimely  end  of  his  beautiful  daughter, 
he  met  with  but  little  commiseration.  On  the  scaffold  he  ad- 
dressed the  multitude  in  a  few  words,  in  which,  after  having 
acknowledged  the  justice  of  his  punishment,  he  repudiated  the 
"  trumpery  "  of  the  old  religion ;  acknowledged  himself  a  sin- 
cere member  of  the  Protestant  faith,  and  concluded  by  beseech- 
ing the  bystanders  to  pray  God  to  receive  his  soul.  Then 
kneeling  down,  and  devoutly  lifting  up  his  hands  and  eyes 


158  EXECUTION  OF  SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 

to  Heaven,  he  repeated  the  psalm  "  Miserere  mei,  Domine." 
Among  the  last  words  he  uttered  were  those  which  his 
daughter  had  used  on  a  like  melancholy  occasion.  "  Lord, 
into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit."  The  executioner 
kneeling  down  to  request  his  forgiveness — "God  forgive 
thee,"  he  said,  "  as  I  do ;  and  when  thou  doest  thine  office, 
I  pray  thee  do  it  quickly,  and  God  have  mercy  on  thee." 
Then;  having  repeated  the  Lord's  Prayer,  he  tied  a  handker- 
chief over  his  eyes,  and  calling  upon  Christ  for  mercy,  sub- 
mitted himself  to  the  stroke  of  the  executioner. 

Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  whose  rash  enterprise  had  proved 
fatal  to  Lady  Jane  Grey  and  her  husband,  was  after  his  cap- 
ture by  Sir  Maurice  Berkeley,  near  Temple  Bar,  sent  a 
prisoner  to  the  Tower.  Thence  he  was  conducted  to  his 
trial  at  Westminster,  where,  having  pleaded  guilty  to  the 
charge  of  high  treason,  he  was  sentenced  to  be  hanged, 
drawn,  and  quartered.  This  sentence  was  afterwards  com- 
muted to  decapitation,  which  was  accordingly  carried  into 
effect  on  Tower  Hill,  on  the  llth  of  April,  1554;  when  his 
body  having  been  dismembered,  his  head,  as  has  been  al- 
ready mentioned,  was  stuck  on  a  gallows  on  Hay  Hill,  near 
Berkeley  Square,  and  his  quarters  exposed  in  different  parts 
of  the  metropolis.  The  suppression  of  Wyatt's  rebellion 
filled  the  Tower  with  a  crowd  of  miserable  prisoners.  In 
two  days  alone — the  14th  and  15th  of  February — as  many 
as  fifty  of  the  rebels  were  hanged.  Altogether  four  hundred 
persons  are  computed  to  have  suffered  death ;  while  four 
hundred  more,  having  been  led  before  the  Queen  at  White- 
hall, with  halters  round  their  necks,  had  the  good  fortune  to 
be  dismissed  with  a  pardon.  Among  the  less  fortunate  was 
the  Duke  of  Suffolk's  brother,  Lord  Thomas  Grey,  who  was 
beheaded  on  the  27th  of  April  on  Tower  Hill. 

Among  those  whom  Wyatt's  treason  very  nearly  involved 


IMPRISONMENT  OF  ELIZABETH.  159 

in  his  ruin  was  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  the  future  Sovereign 
of  England.  After  his  condemnation,  Wyatt,  in  hopes  of 
saving  his  life,  had  given  some  information  which  went  far 
to  implicate  her  in  his  crime,  though  he  afterwards  retracted 
his  accusation,  and  with  his  dying  breath  and  on  his  bended 
knees  solemnly  asserted  her  innocence.  Wyatt's  original 
accusation,  however,  was  sufficient  to  serve  the  purpose  of 
her  unfeeling  sister,  and  accordingly  Elizabeth  was  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower.  On  the  night  of  her  arrest  she  was  in 
bed  at  her  house  at  Ashbridge,  in  Hertfordshire,  when  her 
chamber  was  indecently  entered  by  Sir  Richard  Southwell, 
and  two  messengers  from  the  Privy  Council,  who,  with  great 
rudeness,  acquainted  her  with  the  nature  of  their  errand. 
The  Princess,  naturally  indignant  at  this  unwarrantable  in- 
trusion, inquired  whether  their  orders  were  of  so  peremptory 
a  nature  to  prevent  their  waiting  till  the  next  day.  Their 
orders,  was  their  reply,  were  from  the  Queen,  who  had  com- 
manded them  to  use  no  delay,  and  therefore  "  they  must 
take  her  with  them  whether  quick  or  dead."  Nevertheless 
Elizabeth  obtained  the  indulgence  of  being  permitted  to 
remain  at  Ashbridge  till  the  next  morning,  when  she  was 
placed  in  a  litter  and  conveyed  with  as  much  expedition  as 
possible  to  Whitehall,  where  she  found  herself  placed  under 
close  custody. 

Elizabeth  had  remained  about  a  fortnight  at  Whitehall, 
when,  to  her  surprise  and  consternation,  she  was  informed 
that  it  was  the  Queen's  pleasure  that  she  should  be  removed 
to  the  Tower  till  such  time  as  her  guilt  or  innocence  should 
have  been  satisfactorily  established.  The  idea  of  being  in- 
carcerated in  that  gloomy  fortress,  which  within  the  last  few 
years  had  been  crimsoned  with  the  blood  of  so  many  persons 
of  royal  descent,  and  where  her  own  unoffending  mother  had 
suffered  by  the  axe  of  the  executioner,  struck  the  Princess, 


160  ELIZABETH  IN  THE  TOWER. 

lion-hearted  as  she  was,  with  dismay.  With  these  feelings, 
she  addressed  a  pathetic  letter  to  the  Queen,  her  sister,  in 
which  she  solemnly  protested  her  innocence,  and  implored 
that  any  other  place  might  be  substituted  as  the  scene  of  her 
imprisonment.  Mary,  however,  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  her 
entreaties,  and  accordingly,  on  Palm  Sunday,  when  the  great 
mass  of  the  population  were  attending  divine  service,  she  was 
conducted  to  the  water  entrance  of  the  palace,  where  a  barge 
was  in  readiness  to  receive  her.  During  her  passage  down 
the  river  she  preserved  her  usual  serenity  till  she  perceived 
the  barge  nearing  the  Traitors'  Gate — that  fatal  water  en- 
trance through  which  so  few  who  had  once  entered  the 
Tower  as  prisoners  had  been  ever  known  to  return — when 
her  courage  for  a  moment  deserted  her,  and  she  expressed  a 
wish  to  be  landed  at  some  other  spot ;  a  request,  however, 
which  was  coldly  refused.  Fear  now  gave  way  to  indigna- 
tion, and  accordingly,  when  one  of  the  attending  lords  offered 
her  his  cloak  to  protect  her  from  the  rain,  she  not  only 
scornfully  rejected  it,  but,  we  are  told,  "  put  it  back  with 
her  hand  with  a  good  dash."  As  soon  as  she  had  set  her  foot 
on  the  landing-place, — "Here  landeth,"  she  exclaimed,  "as 
true  a  subject,  being  a  prisoner,  as  ever  landed  at  these 
stairs ;  and  before  Thee,  0  God,  I  speak  it,  having  none 
other  friends  than  Thee  !"  On  entering  the  fortress  she  sat 
down  on  a  stone,  either  to  meditate  or  to  rest  herself.  The 
Lieutenant  of  the  Tower  reminding  her  that  it  rained,  and 
pressing  her  to  rise — "  Better,"  she  said,  "  to  sit  here  than  in  a 
worse  place :  for  God  knoweth  whither  you  will  bring  me." 
During  the  time  that  the  high-spirited  Princess  remained 
a  prisoner  in  the  Tower,  she  was  subjected  to  every  kind  of 
harshness  and  indignity.  Not  only  was  her  privacy  con- 
stantly intruded  upon  by  the  Queen's  priests  and  confessors, 
who  wearied  her  with  vain  importunities  to  forsake  her  re- 


MARTYRDOM  OF  THE  PRELATES.  161 

ligion,  but  during  a  whole  month  she  was  not  allowed  to  quit 
her  apartment ;  and  when  after  a  time,  in  consequence  of  her 
health  failing  her,  she  was  permitted  to  take  the  air  in  the 
Queen's  garden,  she  was  invariably  attended  by  the  Lieute- 
nant of  the  Tower  and  a  guard.  Even  a  child  only  four 
years  old,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  bringing  her  flowers, 
underwent  a  strict  examination,  on  suspicion  of  its  being  the 
channel  of  communication  between  the  Princess  and  the 
Earl  of  Devonshire.  At  length,  on  the  19th  of  May,  she 
obtained  her  release. 

Among  the  illustrious  prisoners  in  the  Tower  during  the 
reign  of  Queen  Mary,  must  be  mentioned  the  celebrated 
martyrs,  Archbishop  Cranmer,  and  Bishops  Ridley  and 
Latimer,  who  were  for  some  months  incarcerated  here ;  the 
fortress  at  the  time  being  so  crowded  with  prisoners  that  it 
was  found  necessary  to  confine  the  three  prelates  together  in 
one  room.  Among  other  hardships  to  which  they  were  sub- 
jected we  find  Bishop  Latimer,  though  a  very  old  man, 
refused  a  fire,  even  when  snow  was  on  the  ground.  He  bore 
his  misfortunes,  however,  not  only  with  patience,  but  with 
cheerfulness.  "  Master  Lieutenant,"  he  said  on  one  occasion, 
"  I  suppose  you  expect  me  to  be  burnt,  but  unless  you  let 
me  have  some  fire,  I  am  likely  to  deceive  your  expectations, 
for  I  shall  most  probably  die  of  the  cold."  Another  remark 
which  he  made  to  his  fellow-sufferer,  Bishop  Ridley,  while 
the  faggots  were  being  piled  around  them,  has  been  rendered 
famous  in  history,  "  Be  of  good  comfort,  Master  Ridley,  and 
play  the  man :  we  shall  this  day  light  such  a  candle,  by 
God's  grace,  in  England,  as  I  trust  shall  never  be  put  out." 
From  the  Tower  the  three  prelates  were  removed  to  Oxford, 
where  these  dauntless  champions  of  the  Reformation  suf- 
fered martyrdom  in  the  flames. 

Queen  Mary  dying  on  the  17th  of  November,  1558,  Eliza- 
VOL.  II.  11 


162  ACCESSION  OF  QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 

beth,  to  the  great  joy  of  the  Protestant  portion  of  her  sub- 
jects, was  immediately  proclaimed  Queen  at  Westminster, 
the  Royal  Exchange,  and  other  places  in  the  metropolis. 
From  Hatfield,  where  she  was  staying  when  her  sister's 
death  was  announced  to  her,  she  proceeded  to  the  capital, 
being  everywhere  greeted  in  her  progress  with  enthusiastic 
shouts  of  congratulation  and  popular  joy.  The  first  night 
was  passed  by  her  at  the  Charter  House,  whence  she  pro- 
ceeded to  the  Tower.  "On  her  entrance  into  the  Tower," 
writes  Hume,  "  she  could  not  forbear  reflecting  on  the  great 
difference  between  her  present  fortune  and  that  which  a  few 
years  before  had  attended  her,  when  she  was  conducted  to- 
that  place  as  a  prisoner,  and  lay  there  exposed  to  all  the- 
bigoted  malignity  of  her  enemies.  She  fell  on  her  knees, 
and  expressed  her  thanks  to  Heaven  for  the  deliverance 
which  the  Almighty  had  granted  her  from  her  bloody  perse- 
cutors ;  a  deliverance,  she  said,  no  less  miraculous  than  that 
which  Daniel  had  received  from  the  den  of  lions."  In  the 
Tower  Elizabeth  continued  to  keep  her  court  till  the  com- 
mencement of  the  month  of  December,  when  she  removed  to 
Somerset  House,  where  she  resided  till  her  sister's  remains 
were  consigned  to  the  ground.  She  again,  however,  returned 
to  the  Tower  on  the  12th  of  January,  and  here  passed  the 
three  days  which  preceded  her  coronation  at  Westminster. 
The  procession  which,  on  the  day  appointed  for  that  cere- 
mony, issued  forth  from  the  portals  of  the  Tower  is  described 
as  gorgeous  in  the  extreme.  The  Queen,  magnificently  at- 
tired, was  seated  in  an  open  chariot  superbly  gilt  and  of 
curious  workmanship.  Before  her  went  pursuivants  and 
heralds,  and  drums  and  trumpets  ;  around  her  were  "  goodly 
and  beautiful  ladies,  richly  appointed,"  while  behind  her  fol- 
lowed knights  of  the  garter  and  peers  of  the  realm,  arrayed 
in  the  gorgeous  apparel  of  the  age.  And,  thus,  we  are  told, 


IMPRISONMENT  OF  LADY  CATHERINE  GREY.  163 

"  most  honourably  accompanied,"  she  passed  under  a  succes- 
sion of  triumphal  arches ;  along  streets  hung  with  tapestry 
and  damask ;  through  avenues  of  the  City  companies,  clad  hi 
their  gaudy  liveries  of  scarlet  and  rich  furs  ;  arrested  at  one 
moment  in  Fenchurch  Street  by  a  beautiful  child  addressing 
her  in  a  befitting  oration ;  pausing  at  another  time  to  witness 
a  "  goodly  pageant"  in  Gracechurch  Street ;  stopped  at 
Cornhill  by  a  representation  of  the  Cardinal  Virtues  tram- 
pling on  Ignorance  and  Superstition ;  interrupted  in  Fleet 
Street  by  a  living  model  of  Deborah  sitting  in  "  Parliament 
robes"  under  a  palm-tree,  prophesying  the  restoration  of  the 
House  of  Israel ;  and  lastly,  at  Temple  Bar,  by  a  stalwart 
citizen,  representing  the  giant  Gogmagog,  who  held  in  his 
hand  a  scroll  in  Latin  verse,  explaining  what  the  bewildered 
Queen  might  or  might  not  have  remarked  during  her  fan- 
tastic progress. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  prisoners  in  the  Tower  in 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth  was  the  Lady  Catherine  Grey,  second 
daughter  of  the  late  Duke  of  Suffolk,  to  whom  her  sister 
Lady  Jane  had  sent  her  Greek  Testament  on  the  eve  of  her 
execution.  Lady  Catherine  having  won  the  affections  of  Ed- 
ward Seymour,  Earl  of  Hertford,  eldest  son  of  the  late 
Duke  of  Somerset,  and  their  attachment  being  mutual, 
they  were  privately  married  about  the  year  1560 ;  Lady 
Catherine  in  due  time  making  him  a  father.  Although  the 
great-granddaughter  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  she  was  not  so 
nearly  related  to  the  sovereign  as  to  render  the  marriage 
illegal  without  the  royal  assent.  Notwithstanding  this  im- 
munity, however,  so  enraged  was  Elizabeth  at  the  marriage, 
as  to  commit  Lord  Hertford  and  his  young  wife  to  separate 
prisons  in  the  Tower.  Unfortunately  for  them,  their  keepers, 
wrought  upon  by  Hertford's  gold,  occasionally  allowed  the 
lovers  to  mee^in  private;  the  result  was  the  birth  of  a 

11—2 


164  IMPRISONMENT  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  NORFOLK. 

second  child,  a  circumstance  which  inflamed  the  anger  of 
Elizabeth  beyond  all  bounds.  Warner,  the  Lieutenant  of 
the  Tower,  was  at  once  dismissed  from  his  situation.  Hert- 
ford, having  been  summoned  before  the  Star  Chamber,  was 
sentenced  to  pay  three  different  fines  amounting  to  fifteen 
thousand  pounds ;  five  thousand  for  having  corrupted  a 
virgin  of  the  royal-blood  in  the  Queen's  palace ;  the  same  sum 
for  having  broken  prison ;  and  five  thousand  more  for  having 
repeated  his  intercourse.  The  husband  and  wife  never  after- 
wards met  again.  Lady  Catherine  died  in  the  Tower,  on 
the  26th  of  January,  1567;  while  it  was  not  till  Lord 
Hertford  had  paid  the  large  fines  imposed  upon  him,  and 
had  suffered  an  imprisonment  of  nine  years,  that  he  obtained 
his  release. 

The  first  person  of  high  rank  who  perished  on  the  scaffold 
in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  was  Thomas  Howard,  fourth  Duke 
of  Norfolk,  famous  for  his  attachment  to  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots,  and  the  high  penalty  which  he  paid  for  his  devotion. 
Distinguished  by  his  high  birth  and  princely  fortune,  affable, 
generous,  and  benevolent,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  was  at  this 
period  the  most  popular  as  well  as  the  most  powerful  noble- 
man in  England  Moreover,  that  Elizabeth  herself  enter- 
tained feelings  of  personal  regard  for  the  Duke,  and  more 
than  once  gave  him  a  friendly  hint  that  his  designs  were 
suspected  and  were  likely  to  bring  him  into  danger,  there 
seems  to  be  little  question.  "  Take  heed,"  was  on  one  occa- 
sion her  significant  expression  to  him,  "  on  what  pillow  you 
lay  your  head."  At  length,  more  reliable  information  hav- 
ing reached  the  Queen's  ministers,  it  was  thought  requisite 
to  arrest  the  Duke  and  to  send  him  to  the  Tower.  On  the 
16th  of  January,  1572,  he  was  brought  to  trial  before  his 
peers  in  Westminster  Hall.  The  charges  on  which  he  was 
tried  were  for  entering  into  a  treasonable  conspiracy  to  de- 


TRIAL  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  NORFOLK.  165 

pose  and  take  away  the  Queen's  life ;  for  projecting  a  mar- 
riage with  the  Queen  of  Scots,  who  pretended  to  be  the 
rightful  Queen  of  England  ;  for  assisting  the  Earls  of  North- 
umberland and  Westmoreland  with  money  during  their  re- 
cent rebellion ;  and,  lastly,  for  proposing  to  bring  a  foreign 
army  into  England,  by  the  aid  of  the  Pope,  the  King  of 
Spain,  and  the  Duke  of  Alva,  with  the  object  of  setting  the 
Queen  of  Scots  at  liberty,  and  restoring  the  Popish  religion 
in  England.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  proceedings,  being 
asked  by  the  Lord  High  Steward  if  he  had  anything  to 
say  in  his  defence,  his  simple  reply  was — "  I  confide  in  the 
equity  of  the  laws."  The  peers  having  brought  in  a  una- 
nimous verdict  of  "  Guilty "  against  him,  the  Lord  High 
Steward  proceeded  to  pronounce  sentence  of  death  on  him, 
to  which  the  Duke  listened  with  a  calm,  unruffled  dignity. 

From  the  moment  on  which  sentence  was  passed  on  him, 
the  conduct  and  demeanour  of  the  Duke  presented  a  touch- 
ing picture  of  manly  fortitude  and  Christian  resignation. 
From  his  prison  in  the  Tower,  he  addressed  the  most  affec- 
tionate letters  to  each  of  his  children,  in  which  he  pointed 
out  to  them  how  vain  and  transitory  was  human  life ;  at  the 
same  time  exhorting  them  that  a  constant  perusal  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  a  strict  observance  of  their  sacred  ordina- 
tions, formed  the  only  true  road  to  happiness  both  in  this 
world  and  in  the  next.  However,  four  months  were 
allowed  by  Elizabeth  to  elapse  before  she  finally  decided 
on  sending  Norfolk  to  the  block.  Twice,  we  are  told, 
she  signed  the  warrant  for  his  execution,  and  twice  revoked 
the  fatal  sentence.  Thus  twice  did  the  gallant  and  high- 
minded  Norfolk  taste  the  bitterness,  and  pass  through  the 
valley,  of  death  ;  thus  twice,  after  he  had  composed  himself 
to  die,  and  had  bidden  farewell  to  all  who  were  near  and 
dear  to  him  on  earth,  was  he  in  vain  recalled  to  the  remem- 


166       EXECUTION  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  NORFOLK. 

brance  that  life  had  still  its  sweetness,  and  that  the  terrors 
of  the  grave  might  be  yet  far  off. 

At  length,  on  the  2nd  of  June,  amidst  a  vast  crowd  of 
spectators,  he  was  led  to  his  execution  on  Tower  Hill. 
Having  ascended  the  scaffold,  which  he  did  with  a  firm 
step  and  a  serene  countenance,  he  addressed  the  bystanders 
in  a  set  speech,  in  which,  while  he  acknowledged  the  justice 
of  the  sentence  by  which  he  died,  he  solemnly  disclaimed 
any  disloyal  intentions  against  the  Queen's  person  or  govern- 
ment. His  composure  never  for  a  moment  deserted  him. 
Having  concluded  his  speech,  he  affectionately  embraced 
his  gallant  associate,  Sir  Henry  Leigh,  after  which  he  whis- 
pered a  few  words  to  his  spiritual  adviser,  Dr.  Nowel,  Dean 
of  St.  Paul's,  who  repeated  their  purport  to  the  bystanders. 
"  The  Duke,"  he  said,  "  wishes  you  all  to  pray  to  God  to 
have  mercy  on  him ;  and  withal  to  keep  silence,  that  his 
mind  may  not  be  disturbed."  One  of  the  attendants  offer- 
ing a  handkerchief  to  bandage  his  eyes,  he  refused  it,  ob- 
serving in  an  unconcerned  manner — "  I  am  not  in  the  least 
afraid  of  death."  He  then  knelt  down  to  his  devotions,  and 
quietly  laying  his  neck  on  the  block,  the  executioner  at  one 
stroke  severed  his  head  from  his  body. 

Whatever  difference  there  may  have  been  between  the 
policy  and  dispositions  of  Queen  Mary  and  her  sister  Eliza- 
beth, certain  it  is  that  during  the  reign  of  the  "  Virgin 
Queen  "  the  Tower  was  seldom  less  crowded  with  prisoners 
than  it  had  been  under  the  rule  of  her  predecessor.  Here, 
for  instance,  in  1572,  was  imprisoned,  on  account  of  his  de- 
votion to  the  cause  of  the  unfortunate  Queen  of  Scots,  the 
high-minded  John  Leslie,  Bishop  of  Ross  :  while,  nearly  at 
the  same  time,  several  persons  were  committed,  and  two 
hanged,  for  a  conspiracy  to  rescue  the  Duke  of  Norfolk. 
Again,  in  1581,  besides  numbers  of  persons  incarcerated  on 


SUICIDE  OF  EARL  OF  NORTHUMBERLAND.      167 

account  of  their  religious  opinions,  here  was  committed  the 
learned  theologian,  John  Stubbs,  who  having  been  found 
guilty  of  writing  a  pamphlet  against  the  Queen's  proposed 
marriage  with  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  was  dragged  through  the 
streets  to  the  market-place  at  Westminster,  where  his  right 
hand  was  cut  off  by  the  executioner.  At  the  same  time, 
William  Page,  the  printer  of  the  work,  shared  the  same 
fate. 

The  persons  on  whom  the  greatest  cruelty  was  practised 
during  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  were  the  Jesuits  and  other 
missionary  Roman  Catholic  priests,  whose  whole  lives  and 
•energies  had  been  devoted  to  the  interests  of  their  church, 
-and  who  now  flocked  into  England  with  the  enthusiastic 
hope  of  either  rebuilding  the  ancient  faith,  or  of  obtaining 
the  crown  of  martyrdom  in  the  event  of  their  failing  in  the 
attempt.  The  barbarities  which  were  practised  upon  these 
unfortunate  men  were  such  as  have  left  an  indelible  stain 
upon  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  So  inhuman,  indeed,  were 
they,  that,  in  order  to  stifle  the  almost  universal  feeling  of 
indignation  and  abhorrence,  the  government  of  Elizabeth 
were  compelled  to  publish  an  apologetical  circular  in  defence 
of  their  measures. 

A  prisoner  of  a  different  description  was  Henry  Percy, 
eighth  Earl  of  Northumberland,  a  zealous  Roman  Catholic, 
committed  to  the  Tower  in  1585  on  a  strong  suspicion  of 
favouring  the  cause  of  the  Queen  of  Scots.  Dreading  the 
ruin  in  which  his  family,  in  the  event  of  his  attainder, 
would  inevitably  become  involved,  he  determined  to  antici- 
pate by  suicide  the  fate  which  would  doubtless  otherwise 
have  awaited  him  on  the  scaffold.  Alluding  to  the  Queen, 
he  was  heard  to  observe,  "  The  bitch  at  least  shall  not  have 
my  estate."  Accordingly,  on  the  21st  of  June,  the  Earl 
was  found  dead  in  his  bed  in  the  Tower,  the  door  of  his 


168  Silt  JOHN  PEEROT. 

apartment  being  locked  in  the  inside,  and  a  pistol  lying  by 
his  bed.     He  had  shot  himself  through  the  heart. 

Among  other  persons  of  importance  who  were  prisoners- 
in  the  Tower  in  this  reign,  may  be  cursorily  mentioned  the 
unfortunate  Earl  of  Essex,  to  whose  fate  we  shall  presently 
have  to  refeu;  John  Somerville,  a  gentleman  of  Elstow  in 
Warwickshire,  and  his  father-in-law,  Edward  Arden,  of  an 
ancient  family  in  Leicestershire,  who  in  1583  were  hanged, 
disembowelled,  and  quartered  at  Smithfield,  for  plotting 
against  the  Queen's  life  ;  Francis  Throgmorton,  who,  having 
been  found  guilty  of  carrying  on  a  treasonable  correspond- 
ence with  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  underwent  the  same  hor- 
rible fate  at  Tyburn;  William  Parry,  a  lawyer  of  great 
eminence  and  learning,  who  suffered  in  1585  in  Old  Palace 
Yard,  for  conspiring  against  the  Queen's  life;  Secretary 
Davison,  whom  his  cold-blooded  mistress,  Elizabeth,  con- 
demned to  a  long  and  cruel  imprisonment,  on  the  unjust 
accusation  that  he  had  hurried  on  the  execution  of  the 
Queen  of  Scots  ;  and  lastly,  the  gallant  soldier  and  accom- 
plished statesman  and  courtier,  Sir  John  Perrot — presumed 
to  be  a  natural  son  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  conse- 
quently half-brother  to  Queen  Elizabeth — who  was  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower  in  1592,  on  charges  of  high  treason, 
and  having  been  found  guilty  at  his  trial,  was  condemned 
to  death.  The  prospect  of  dying  a  traitor's  death,  rather 
than  the  fear  of  death  itself,  would  seem  to  have  deeply 
affected  him.  "  My  name  and  blood,"  he  said,  after  sentence 
had  been  passed  upon  him,  "  are  corrupted,  and  woe  be  to- 
me that  am  the  first  of  my  house  and  name  that  ever  was 
attainted  or  suspected."  On  being  brought  back  to  the 
Tower,  his  feelings  manifested  themselves  in  a  passion  of 
rage.  "  What !"  he  exclaimed  to  the  Lieutenant  of  the 
Tower  with  many  oaths,  "  will  the  Queen  suffer  her  brother 


TRIAL  OF  ANTHONY  BABINGTON.  169- 

to  be  offered  up  as  a  sacrifice  to  the  envy  of  his  strutting 
adversaries  ?"  Elizabeth,  however,  seems  from  the  first  to 
have  been  fully  convinced  of  his  innocence,  and  consequently 
when  pressed  to  sign  his  death-warrant,  she  positively  re- 
fused her  assent.  Nevertheless  she  allowed  him  to  remain 
a  prisoner  in  the  Tower,  where,  it  is  said,  he  died  broken- 
hearted, in  September,  1592,  a  few  months  after  his  trial. 

Not  the  least  interesting  prisoners  in  the  Tower  in  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth,  was  that  accomplished  and  enthusiastic 
band  of  youths — headed  by  Anthony  Babington — who, 
united  by  the  ties  of  a  tender,  if  not  sublime,  friendship, 
had  devoted  themselves  to  the  cause  of  the  beautiful  Queen 
of  Scots,  whom  they  had  sworn  either  to  restore  to  liberty 
or  to  perish  in  the  attempt.  Their  designs,  however,  having 
been  discovered  by  the  subtle  Walsingham,  in  1586  they 
were  arrested  and  committed  to  the  Tower.  The  appearance 
presented  by  these  noble-minded  youths  at  the  bar  of  jus- 
tice is  described  in  a  very  interesting  paper  by  the  late  Mr. 
D'Israeli  in  his  "Curiosities  of  Literature."  "When  this 
romantic  band  of  friends,"  he  writes,  "  were  called  on  for 
their  defence,  the  most  pathetic  instances  of  domestic  affec- 
tion appeared.  One  had  engaged  in  this  plot  solely  to  try 
to  save  his  friend,  for  he  had  no  hopes  of  it,  nor  any  wish 
for  its  success.  He  had  observed  to  his  friend  that  the 
haughty  and  ambitious  mind  of  Anthony  Babington  would 
be  the  destruction  of  himself  and  his  friends  ;  nevertheless 
he  was  willing  to  die  with  them  !  Another — to  withdraw, 
if  possible,  one  of  those  noble  youths  from  the  conspiracy — 
although  he  had  broken  up  housekeeping  said — to  employ 
his  own  language — '  I  called  back  my  servants  again  toge- 
ther, and  began  to  keep  house  again  more  freshly  than  ever 
I  did,  only  because  I  was  weary  to  see  Tom  Salisbury's 
straggling,  and  willing  to  keep  him  about  home.'  Having 


TRIAL  OF  JOHN  BALLARD. 


attempted  to  secrete  his  friend,  this  gentleman  observed — '  I 
am  condemned  because  I  suffered  Salisbury  to  escape,  when 
I  knew  he  was  one  of  the  conspirators.  My  case  is  hard 
and  lamentable  ;  either  to  betray  my  friend  whom  I  love  as 
myself,  and  to  discover  Thomas  Salisbury,  the  best  man  in 
my  country,  or  else  to  break  my  allegiance  to  my  sovereign, 
and  to  undo  myself  and  my  posterity  for  ever.'  Another  of 
the  conspirators  replied — '  For  flying  away  with  my  friend, 
I  fulfilled  the  part  of  a  friend.'  When  the  judge  observed, 
that  to  perform  his  friendship  he  had  broken  his  allegiance 
to  his  sovereign,  he  bowed  his  head  and  confessed — '  Therein 
I  have  offended.'  Another,  when  asked  why  he  had  fled 
into  the  woods,  where  he  was  discovered  among  some  of 
the  conspirators,  proudly  or  tenderly  replied — 'For  com- 
pany.' "  The  principal  promoter  of  the  conspiracy  had  been 
the  celebrated  Jesuit  priest,  John  Ballard,  whose  crafty  and 
insidious  arguments  had  originally  wrought  on  the  enthu- 
siastic mind  of  Anthony  Babington,  and  who  now  stood  at 
the  bar  by  the  side  of  the  ill-fated  youths  whom  he  had 
entrapped  into  his  net.  The  judge  himself  is  said  to  have 
been  greatly  affected  at  the  prospect  of  the  terrible  fate 
which  awaited  them.  "  Oh,  Ballard !  Ballard !"  were  his 
words  to  the  Jesuit,  "  what  hast  thou  done  ?  A  company 
of  brave  youths,  otherwise  adorned  with  good  gifts,  by  thy 
inducement  hast  thou  brought  to  their  utter  destruction  and 
confusion."  Ballard,  to  his  credit,  was  overcome  with  re- 
morse at  the  sight  of  the  wreck  he. had  made.  He  wished, 
he  said,  that  all  the  blame  could  rest  on  him,  if,  by  the 
shedding  of  his  blood  he  could  save  Babingtoii's  life. 

Of  these  illustrious  youths,  fourteen,  besides  Ballard,  suf- 
fered the  last  penalty  of  the  law.  Their  names  were  An- 
thony Babington ;  Edward  Windsor,  brother  of  Lord 
Windsor;  Thomas  Salisbury;  Charles  Tilney;  Chidiock 


EXECUTION  OF  ANTHONY  BABINGTON.         171 

Ticliburn ;  Edward  Abington ;  Robert  Gage  ;  John  Travers ; 
John  Charnock ;  John  Jones ;  John  Savage  ;  R.  Barnwell ; 
Henry  Dun,  and  Jerome  Bellarmine.  "  That  nothing,"  writes 
Mr.  D'Israeli,  "might  be  wanting  to  complete  the  catas- 
trophe of  their  sad  story,  our  sympathy  must  accompany 
them  to  their  tragical  end,  and  to  their  last  words.  Ballard 
was  the  first  executed,  and  snatched  alive  from  the  gallows 
to  be  embowelled.  Babington  looked  on  with  an  undatinted 
countenance,  steadily  gazing  on  that  variety  of  tortures 
which  he  himself  was  in  a  moment  to  pass  through.  The 
others  averted  their  faces,  fervently  praying.  When  the 
executioner  began  his  tremendous  work  on  Babington,  the 
spirit  of  this  haughty  and  heroic  man  cried  out  amidst  the 
agony — '  Parce  mihi,  Do-mine  Jesu  !'  There  were  two  days 
of  execution.  It  was  on  the  first  that  the  noblest  of  these 
youths  suffered;  and  the  pit}r  which  such  criminals  had 
excited  among  the  spectators  evidently  weakened  the  sense 
of  their  political  crime.  The  solemnity,  not  the  barbarity, 
of  the  punishment,  affects  the  populace  with  right  feelings. 
Elizabeth,  an  enlightened  politician,  commanded  that  on  the 
second  day  the  odious  part  of  the  sentence  should  not  com- 
mence till  after  death." 

The  following  pathetic  verses,  composed  by  one  of  the 
conspirators,  Chidiock  Tichburn,  in  the  Tower,  the  night 
before  his  execution  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  are  probably 
well  known. 

"  My  prime  of  youth  is  but  a  frost  of  cares, 

My  feast  of  joy  is  but  a  dish  of  pain  ; 
My  crop  of  corn  is  but  a  field  of  tares, 

And  all  my  goods  is  but  vain  hope  of  gain. 
The  day  is  fled,  and  yet  I  saw  no  sun, 
And  now  I  live,  and  now  my  life  is  done. 

"  My  spring  is  past,  and  yet  it  hath  not  sprung, 
The  fruit  is  dead,  and  yet  the  leaves  are  green, 


172  TRIAL  OF  THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX. 

My  youth  is  past,  and  yet  I  am  but  young, 
I  saw  the  world,  and  yet  I  was  not  seen ; 
My  thread  is  cut,  and  yet  it  is  not  spun, 
And  now  I  live,  and  now  my  life  is  done. 

"  I  sought  for  death,  and  found  it  in  the  womb, 

I  looked  for  life,  and  yet  it  was  a  shade, 
I  trod  the  ground,  and  knew  it  was  my  tomb, 

And  now  I  die,  and  now  I  am  but  made. 
The  glass  is  full,  and  yet  my  glass  is  run  ; 
And  now  I  live,  and  now  my  life  is  done  !" 

On  the  9th  of  February,  1601,  the  Traitors'  Gate  opened  to 
receive  as  a  prisoner  the  young  and  accomplished  Robert  Deve- 
reux,  Earl  of  Essex.  The  story  of  this  ill-fated  favourite — of 
his  popularity,  his  taste  for  literature,  the  beauty  of  his  person 
and  his  graceful  accomplishments— his  chivalrous  gallantry 
on  the  field  of  Zutphen,  beneath  the  walls  of  Rouen,  and 
against  the  Spaniards  in  the  new  world — his  military  failures 
in  Ireland — the  indignation  of  the  Queen  on  his  sudden 
appearance  in  her  bedchamber,  spurred,  booted  and  muddy — 
and  further  of  her  fitful  returns  of  passionate  affection — her 
sending  him  dainties  at  one  moment  and  signing  his  death- 
warrant  the  next — are  too  familiar  with  every  one  to  require 
repetition. 

It  was  on  the  19th  of  February  that  Essex,  with  his 
friend  the  Earl  of  Southampton,  was  brought  from  the 
Tower  to  Westminster  Hall,  when,  having  severally  been 
found  guilty  of  high  treason,  the  Lord  High  Steward 
passed  on  them  the  solemn  sentence  of  the  law.  Southamp- 
ton, in  a  modest  and  becoming  speech,  admitted  his  crime ; 
adding,  that  personally  he  had  never  harboured  a  thought 
against  the  Queen,  and  earnestly  entreating  the  peers  to 
intercede  with  her  majesty  on  his  behalf.  The  speech  of 
Essex  was  of  a  different  character.  His  principal  considera- 
tion seems  to  have  been  for  his  friend,  on  whose  behalf  he 
implored  the  peers  to  intercede  with  the  Queen.  For  him- 


EXECUTION  OF  THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX.          173 

self,  he  said,  he  valued  not  life.  All  his  desire  was  to  quit 
the  world  with  the  conscience  of  a  true  Christian  and  of  a 
loyal  subject.  He  was  loth,  indeed,  that  he  should  be  repre- 
sented to  the  Queen  as  one  who  despised  her  clemency,  but 
at  the  same  time  he  believed  he  should  make  no  cringing 
submissions  for  his  life.  He  then  begged  pardon  of  certain 
lords  whom  he  had  offended ;  requesting  that  he  might  be 
allowed  to  receive  the  holy  sacrament  before  he  suffered, 
and  further  praying  that  a  particular  clergyman,  whom  he 
named,  might  be  allowed  to  attend  him  in  his  last  moments. 

In  the  interval  which  elapsed  between  the  condemnation 
and  death  of  her  favourite,  the  mind  of  Elizabeth  underwent 
a  severe  and  bitter  conflict.  On  the  one  hand  she  revolted 
from  sacrificing  one  whom  she  had  so  tenderly  loved ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  arguments  of  his  enemies,  her  natural 
indignation  at  his  refusing  to  sue  for  pardon,  and,  moreover, 
his  own  voluntary  observation  in  the  Tower,  that  she  would 
never  know  safety  while  he  lived,  went  far  to  overcome  the 
softer  feelings  of  her  nature.  More  than  once  she  signed 
the  warrant  for  his  execution ;  more  than  once  her  tender- 
ness returned ;  and  more  than  once  she  countermanded  his 
death.  Her  pride,  however,  could  not  long  withstand  his 
continued  obstinacy ;  and  accordingly  the  signed  warrant  for 
his  execution  was  at  last  delivered  by  her  into  the  hands  of 
the  Secretary  of  State,  and  the  25th  of  February  fixed  upon 
as  the  fatal  day. 

By  his  own  wish,  Essex  was  executed  in  as  private  a 
manner  as  possible  within  the  walls  of  the  Tower.  Around 
the  scaffold,  which  was  erected  in  the  open  space  in  front  of 
the  chapel,  were  assembled  the  Earls  of  Cumberland  and 
Hertford,  Viscount  Howard  of  Bindon,  Lord  Howard  of 
"Walden,  Lord  Darcy  of  Chiche,  Lord  Compton,  the  Aldermen 
of  London,  and  several  Knights  and  gentlemen.  Essex, 


174          EXECUTION  OF  THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX. 

when  he  appeared  on  the  scaffold,  was  attended  by  three 
divines.  His  dress  is  described  as  consisting  of  a  gown  of 

O  O 

wrought  velvet,  a  black  satin  suit,  a  black  felt  hat,  and  a 
small  ruff  round  his  neck.  Immediately  after  he  had 
ascended  the  fatal  stage,  he  took  off  his  hat,  and  addressed 
himself  to  those  present.  He  had  been  guilty  in  his  youth, 
he  said,  of  many  and  great  sins,  for  which,  through  the 
merits  of  his  Saviour,  he  had  most  ardently  prayed  for  par- 
don. He  acknowledged  the  justice  of  the  sentence  by  which 
he  died,  but  denied  that  he  had  ever  intended  any  violence 
against  the  Queen's  person,  for  whom  he  prayed"  for  long  life 
and  happiness.  He  thanked  God  that  he  had  never  been 
led  astray  by  any  papistical  or  atheistical  doctrines,  but 
that  he  had  ever  fixed  his*  hopes  of  salvation  solely  on  the 
merits  of  his  Redeemer.  Lastly,  he  prayed  God  to  fortify 
him  against  the  terrors  of  death,  and  called  upon  the  by- 
standers to  pray  for  the  welfare  of  his  soul. 

The  executioner  having  asked  his  forgiveness,  which  he 
cheerfully  granted,  Essex  took  off  his  gown  and  ruff,  and 
kneeled  down  before  the  block.  There,  lifting  up  his  eyes 
to  heaven,  he  prayed  fervently  for  some  minutes,  repeating 
the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  Apostles'  Creed,  and  the  first  verses 
of  the  fifty-first  psalm.  He  then  laid  his  neck  upon  the 
block,  and,  while  in  the  act  of  giving  utterance  to  some  pious 
ejaculations,  the  axe  of  the  executioner  fell.  The  first  blow 
deprived  him  of  sense  and  motion,  but  it  was  not  till  the  third 
stroke  had  descended  that  his  head  was  severed  from  his 
body. 

Among  those  whom  the  rash  enterprise  of  Essex  involved 
in  his  fall,  and  who,  besides  the  Earl  of  Southampton,  were 
fellow-prisoners  with  him  in  the  Tower,  were  the  Earl  of 
Rutland,  the  Lords  Sands,  Cromwell,  and  Monteagle,  Sir 
Henry  Bromley,  Sir  Charles  Danvers,  Sir  Christopher  Blunt, 


HENTZNEKS  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  TOWER.    175 

Sir  Gilley  Merrick,  and  Henry  Cuffe.  Of  these  persons,  only 
the  four  last  suffered  on  the  scaffold.  Sir  Charles  Danvers 
and  Sir  Christopher  Blunt  were  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill, 
where  they  met  their  fate  with  great  fortitude  and  compo- 
sure. Merrick  and  Cuffe  were  hanged  and  quartered  at 
Tyburn,  and  died  no  less  resolutely  than  their  companions. 

Let  us  conclude  our  notices  of  the  Tower  in  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth  with  the  description  given  of  it  by  the  German 
traveller,  Paul  Hentzner,  who  visited  England  in  1598. 
"  Upon  entering  the  Tower  of  London,  we  were  obliged  to 
leave  our  swords  at  the  gate,  and  deliver  them  to  the  guard. 
When  we  were  introduced  we  were  shown  above  a  hundred 
pieces  of  arms  belonging  to  the  crown,  made  of  gold,  silver,  and 
silk ;  several  saddles  covered  with  velvet  of  different  colours, 
and  an  immense  quantity  of  bed  furniture,  such  as  canopies 
and  the  like,  some  of  them  richly  ornamented  with  pearl ; 
some  royal  dresses,  so  extremely  magnificent  as  to  raise  any 
one's  admiration  at  the  sums  they  must  have  cost.  We  were 
next  led  to  the  Armoury,  in  which  are  these  particularities ; 
spears  out  of  which  you  may  shoot ;  shields  that  will  give 
fire  four  times ;  a  great  many  rich  halberds,  commonly  called 
partizans,  with  which  the  guard  defend  the  royal  person  in 
battle ;  some  lances  covered  with  red  and  green  velvet,  and 
the  suit  of  armour  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth ;  many  very 
beautiful  arms,  as  well  for  men  as  for  horse-fights  ;  the  lance 
of  Charles  Brandon,  Duke  of  Suffolk,  three  spans  thick ;  two 
pieces  of  cannon — the  one  fires  three,  the  other  seven  balls 
at  a  time — two  others  made  of  wood,  which  the  English  had 
at  the  siege  of  Boulogne  in  France,  and  by  this  stratagem, 
without  which  they  could  not  have  succeeded,  they  struck  a 
terror  as  at  the  appearance  of  artillery,  and  the  town  sur- 
rendered upon  articles ;  nineteen  cannons  of  a  thicker  make 
than  ordinary ;  and,  in  a  room  apart,  thirty-six  of  a  smaller ; 


176        Silt  WALTER  RALEIGH  IN  THE  TOWER. 

other  cannons  for  chain  shot,  and  balls  proper  to  bring  down 
masts  of  ships;  and  cross-bows,  and  bows  and  arrows,  of 
which  to  this  day  the  English  make  use  in  their  exercises. 
But  who  can  relate  all  that  is  to  be  seen  here  ?  Eight  or 
nine  men,  employed  by  the  year,  are  scarce  sufficient  to  keep 
all  the  arms  bright." 

James  the  First,  after  his  arrival  from  Scotland,  kept  his 
court  for  a  short  time  in  the  Tower.  Hence,  too,  accom- 
panied by  his  Queen,  and  Henry,  Prince  of  Wales,  he  pro- 
ceeded in  great  state  to  Westminster,  preparatory  to  the 
opening  of  his  first  Parliament.  When  in  after  life  he 
occasionally  paid  visits  to  the  ancient  fortress,  it  seems  to 
have  been  for  no  better  purpose  than  that  of  witnessing  the 
•combats  of  the  wild  beasts  who  were  kept  in  the  royal 
menagerie.  For  instance,  in  March,  1604,  we  find  the  King 
directing  the  "  lustiest "  of  the  lions  to  be  baited  for  the 
amusement  of  the  Queen  and  the  little  Prince  of  Wales,  a 
child  of  ten  years  old  ;  three  of  the  "  fattest  dogs  "  being 
sent  for  from  the  Bear  Garden  at  Southwark  for  the  occasion. 
"  The  two  first  dogs,"  writes  a  contemporary,  "  died  within 
a  few  days,  but  the  last  dog  was  well  recovered  of  all  his 
hurts,  and  the  young  Prince  commanded  his  servant,  E. 
Alleyn  [the  celebrated  comedian],  to  bring  the  dog  to  him  to 
St.  James's,  where  the  Prince  charged  the  said  Alleyn  to  keep 
him  and  make  much  of  him,  saying  he  that  had  fought  with 
the  king  of  beasts  should  never  after  fight  with  any  inferior 
creature."* 

In  July,  1603,  about  four  months  after  James's  accession, 
Henry  Brooke,  Lord  Cobham,  Thomas  Lord  Grey  of  Wilton, 
Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  and  others  were  committed  prisoners  to 
the  Tower,  on  charges  of  attempting  to  restore  the  Roman 
Catholic  religion  and  to  place  the  Lady  Arabella  Stuart  on 
•  Nichols's  "Progresses  of  King  James  the  First,"  vol.  i.,  pp.  320,  321. 


FATE  OF  SIR  WALTER  RALEIGH.  177 

the  throne.  George  Brooke,  a  brother  of  Lord  Cobham,  and 
two  priests  were  executed  for  their  share  in  the  conspiracy ; 
while  Lords  Grey  and  Cobham  were  reprieved  at  the  very 
moment  when,  after  having  addressed  themselves  to  the 
multitude,  they  were  on  the  point  of  submitting  themselves 
to  the  stroke  of  the  executioner.  Both,  however,  were  re- 
manded back  to  the  Tower.  Lord  Cobham  some  time  after- 
wards obtained  his  release ;  but  his  estates  having  been  con- 
fiscated, he  lived  in  extreme  poverty  during  the  remainder  of 
his  days.  Lord  Grey,  a  man  of  high  promise  and  noble  spirit, 
died  a  prisoner  in  1617. 

The  fate  of  Sir  Walter  "Raleigh — that  bright  ornament  of 
the  age  in  which  he  lived — is  more  familiar  to  the  reader. 
After  having  remained  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower  upwards  of 
twelve  years,  he  obtained  his  release  in  1615  on  payment  of 
a  considerable  sum  to  the  celebrated  favourite,  George  Vil- 
liers,  Duke  of  Buckingham.  His  subsequent  unfortunate 
expedition  to  Guiana,  his  re-committal  to  the  Tower,  and 
the  infamous  manner  in  which  he  was  condemned  to  death 
for  a  crime  of  which  he  had  been  found  guilty  fifteen  years 
before,  and  for  which  he  may  be  said  to  have  been  virtually 
pardoned  —  are  facts  too  well  known  to  require  repeti- 
tion. His  execution,  as  has  already  been  mentioned,  took 
place  on  the  29th  of  October,  1618,  in  Old  Palace  Yard, 
Westminster.  "  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,"  writes  Dr.  Townson 
Dean  of  Westminster,  who  attended  him  in  his  last  mo- 
ments, "  was  the  most  fearless  of  death  that  ever  was  known ; 
and  the  most  resolute  and  confident,  yet  with  reverence  and 
conscience.  After  he  had  received  the  communion  in  the 
morning,  he  was  very  cheerful  and  merry,  and  hoped,  as  he 
said,  to  persuade  the  world  that  he  died  an  innocent  man. 
He  was  very  cheerful  tuat  morning  he  died,  eat  his  breakfast 
heartily,  and  took  tobacco,  making  no  more  of  his  death  than 

VOL.  ii.  12 


178  GUNPOWDER  PLOT  CONSPIRATORS. 

if  lie  had  been  to  take  a  journey;  and  he  left  a  great  im- 
pression on  the  minds  of  those  who  beheld  him." 

In  1605,  the  dungeons  of  the  Tower  were  filled  with  the 
conspirators  who  were  engaged  in  the  atrocious  Gunpowder 
Plot.  The  principal  actors  in  the  intended  tragedy  were 
Thomas  Winter,  Guy  Fawkes,  and  Robert  Keyes,  gentle- 
men ;  Thomas  Bates,  yeoman ;  Robert  Winter,  Esq. ;  John 
Grant,  Esq. ;  Ambrose  Rookwood,  Esq. ;  and  the  handsome 
and  accomplished  courtier,  Sir  Everard  Digby,  father  of  the 
celebrated  Sir  Kenelm  Digby.  Their  trial  took  place  on 
the  27th  of  January,  1606,  on  the  Thursday  following 
which  Sir  Everard  Digby,  Robert  Winter,  Grant  and  Bates 
were  drawn  on  hurdles  to  the  west  end  of  St.  Paul's  church- 
yard, where  they  were  hanged,  and,  having  been  cut  down 
before  they  were  dead,  their  bowels  were  taken  out  and 
burnt  before  their  eyes,  and  they  were  then  quartered  and 
beheaded.  On  the  day  following  the  execution  of  their 
associates,  Thomas  Winter,  Rookwood,  Keyes,  and  Guy 
Fawkes  suffered  the  same  fate  in  the  Old  Palace  Yard, 
Westminster. 

Among  others  committed  to  the  Tower  as  having  been 
concerned  in  the  Gunpowder  Plot,  were  the  stout  old  phi- 
losopher, Henry  Percy,  Earl  of  Northumberland;  Henry 
Lord  Mordaunt ;  Edward  Lord  Stourton ;  and  three  Jesuit 
priests,  Fathers  Garnet,  Oldcorn,  and  Gerrard.  Northumber- 
land, besides  being  fined  thirty  thousand  pounds,  was  kept 
a  prisoner  in  the  Tower  nearly  sixteen  years ;  Lords  Mor- 
daunt and  Stourton  were  both  heavily  fined  and  remanded 
to  the  Tower  during  the  King's  pleasure ;  Garnet  was 
dragged  on  a  hurdle  to  the  front  of  St.  Paul's,  where  he 
was  hanged  and  quartered,  while  Father  Oldcorn,  after 
having  been  five  times  tortured  on  the  rack,  shared  the 
same  fate  at  Worcester.  Father  Gerrard  was  also  subjected 


LADY  ARABELLA  STUART.  179 

to  similar  excruciating  agonies.  More  fortunate  than  his 
comrades,  however,  he  contrived  to  escape  from  the  Tower, 
and,  after  having  remained  in  England  for  a  short  time  con- 
cealed, effected  his  way  to  Rome,  where  he  died. 

The  name  of  the  Lady  Arabella  Stuart  recalls  a  tale  of 
sorrow  which  has  probably  drawn  tears  from  the  eyes  of 
thousands.  This  fair,  gentle  and  accomplished  lady  was 
first  cousin  to  James  the  First,  being  the  daughter  of 
Charles  Stuart,  fifth  Earl  of  Lennox,  brother  to  Henry 
Lord  Darnley,  the  King's  father.  To  Queen  Elizabeth,  her 
near  alliance  to  the  throne  had  rendered  her  no  less  an  ob- 
ject of  jealousy  than  she  subsequently  became  to  James. 
In  fact,  from  her  childhood  she  may  be  regarded  as  having 
been  merely  a  prisoner  at  large.  At  last,  having  formed  a 
mutual  attachment  with  the  future  gallant  cavalier,  Sir 
William  Seymour,  afterwards  successively  Marquis  of  Hert- 
ford and  Duke  of  Somerset,  the  lovers  boldly  set  the  terrors 
of  the  Star  Chamber  at  defiance,  and  were  privately  married. 
The  fact,  of  course,  could  not  always  be  kept  a  secret ;  and 
accordingly,  on  its  transpiring,  Seymour  was  arrested  and 
sent  to  the  Tower,  while  Lady  Arabella  was  placed  for  safe 
keeping  under  the  roof  of  Sir  Thomas  Parry  at  Lambeth, 
whence  she  was  afterwards  removed  to  the  charge  of  Sir 
James  Croft  at  Highgate. 

Subsequently,  for  a  short  time  Fortune  seemed  to  favour 
the  lovers.  Not  only  did  Seymour  find  modes  of  secretly 
communicating  with  the  Lady  Arabella,  but  a  vessel  was 
provided  by  his  means  in  the  Thames,  and  a  plan  of  escape 
arranged  between  the  husband  and  wife,  which  appeared  to 
be  not  only  feasible  but  to  promise  success.  Accordingly, 
on  the  appointed  day,  Seymour,  leaving  his  servant  in  his 
bed  in  order  to  prevent  suspicion,  disguised  himself  in  a 
black  wig  and  a  pair  of  black  whiskers,  and  following  a 

12—2 


180  A  TTEMPTED  ESCAPE  OF  LAD  Y  ARABELLA  STUART^ 

cart  that  had  been  directed  to  bring  firewood  to  his  apart- 
ment, walked  unquestioned  out  of  the  western  entrance  of 
the  Tower.  A  boat  was  in  waiting  for  him  at  the  Tower 
Wharf,  in  which  he  was  rowed  to  the  part  of  the  river  where 
he  expected  to  meet  his  bride ;  but  there  finding  to  his  dis- 
appointment that  she  had  sailed  without  him,  he  hired 
another  vessel  for  forty  pounds,  in  which  he  arrived  in 
safety  at  Calais. 

In  the  mean  time,  having  "  drawn  over  her  petticoats  a 
pair  of  large  French-fashioned  hose,  putting  on  a  man's 
doublet,  a  peruke  which  covered  her  hair,  a  hat,  black  cloak, 
russet  boots  with  red  tops,  a  rapier  by  her  side,"  the  Lady 
Arabella  contrived  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  her  keepers,  and, 
under  the  protection  of  a  Mr.  Markham,  set  out  from  High- 
gate  on  her  romantic  expedition.  "  She  had  proceeded  only 
a  mile  and  a  half,"  writes  the  late  Mr.  D'Israeli,  "  when  they 
stopped  at  a  poor  inn  where  one  of  her  confederates  wa» 
waiting  with  horses,  yet  she  was  so  sick  and  faint  that  the- 
hostler  who  held  her  stirrup  observed,  that  '  the  gentleman 
could  hardly  hold  out  to  London.'  She  recruited  her  spirits 
by  riding.  The  blood  mantled  in  her  face;  and  at  six 
o'clock  she  reached  Blackwall,  where  a  boat  and  servants 
were  waiting.  The  watermen  were  at  first  ordered  to  Wool- 
wich. There  they  were  desired  to  push  on  to  Gravesend ; 
then  to  Tilbury,  where,  complaining  of  fatigue,  they  landed 
to  refresh  themselves,  but,  tempted  by  their  freight,  reached 
Lee.  At  the  break  of  morn,  they  discovered  a  French  vessel 
riding  there  to  receive  the  lady ;  but,  as  Seymour  had  not 
yet  arrived,  Arabella  was  desirous  to  lie  at  anchor  for  her 
lord,  conscious  that  he  would  not  fail  to  keep  his  appoint- 
ment. If,  indeed,  he  had  been  prevented  in  his  escape,  she 
herself  cared  not  to  preserve  the  freedom  she  now  possessed; 
but  her  attendants,  aware  of  the  danger  of  being  overtaken 


DEATH  OF  LADY  ARABELLA  STUART.  181 

by  a  King's  ship,  overruled  her  wishes  and  hoisted  sail. 
Alone  and  mournful  on  the  seas,"  adds  Mr.  D'Israeli,  "  im- 
ploring her  attendants  to  linger  for  her  Seymour,  she  strained 
her  sight  to  the  point  of  the  horizon  for  some  speck  which 
might  give  a  hope  of  the  approach  of  the  boat  freighted 
with  all  her  love.  Alas !  never  more  was  Arabella  to  cast  a 
single  look  on  her  lover  and  her  husband !"  Unfortunately 
she  had  allowed  the  season  for  escape  to  slip  by.  Having 
been  overtaken  by  a  fast-sailing  vessel  which  had  been  sent 
in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives,  she  was  re-conducted  to  London, 
and  forthwith  committed  to  the  Tower,  where  she  wore  out 
the  short  remainder  of  her  miserable  existence.  In  one  of 
her  letters  she  describes  herself  as  "the  most  sorrowful 
creature  living  " — and  is  even  said  to  have  ended  her  days 
in  madness. 

"  Where  London's  towers  their  turrets  show, 

So  stately  by  the  Thames's  side, 
Fair  Arabella,  child  of  woe, 

For  many  a  day  had  sat  and  sighed. 
And  as  she  heard  the  waves  arise, 

And  as  she  heard  the  bleak  winds  roar, 
As  fast  did  heave  her  heartfelt  sighs, 

And  still  so  fast  her  tears  did  pour." 

Lady  Arabella  died  in  the  Tower  on  the  27th  of  September, 
1615,  about  four  years  after  her  unsuccessful  attempt  to 
•escape. 

Of  the  many  "  foul  and  midnight  murders  "  which  have 
been  committed  within  the  Tower,  there  have  been  none 
more  foul  and  atrocious  than  that  of  the  accomplished  cour- 
tier and  poet,  Sir  Thomas  Overbury.  The  story  of  his 
tragical  fate  is  well  known.  He  had  long  been  the  intimate 
friend  and  confidant  of  the  celebrated  favourite,  Robert  Carr, 
Earl  of  Somerset,  whom  he  had  been  accustomed  to  direct 
-and  assist  in  all  his  actions,  even  to  the  composing  of  his 


182  SIH  THOMAS  OVERBURY'S  MURDER. 

despatches  to  the  King  and  his  love  letters  to  his  mistresses. 
Their  friendship  continued  unimpaired  till  the  weak  favourite 
fixed  his  affections  on  the  beautiful  and  abandoned  Frances 
Howard,  Countess  of  Essex,  whom  he  determined  to  make 
his  wife.  Foreseeing  the  misery  which  such  a  marriage 
must  entail  on  his  friend,  and  personally  detesting  the  young 
Countess,  Overbury  not  only  sought  to  degrade  her  in  the 
estimation  of  her  lover,  but,  according  to  Weldon,  went  so 
far  as  to  style  her  a  "  strumpet,  and  her  mother  and  brother- 
bawds."  At  all  events,  Somerset,  impelled  by  the  Countess's 
implacable  hatred  of  Overbury,  not  only  entered  into  her 
atrocious  project  of  poisoning  his  friend,  but  with  this  ob- 
ject deliberately  procured  his  committal  to  the  Tower,  as 
well  as  the  appointment  of  one  of  his  own  creatures,  Sir 
Jervis  Elways,  to  be  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower.  The  inferior 
agents  in  this  horrible  transaction  were  Sir  Thomas  Monson; 
two  men  of  the  names  of  Weston  and  Franklin ;  and  the 
well-known  Mrs.  Turner,  who  provided  the  poisons.  By 
Monson  and  Franklin  the  poisons  were  inserted  in  every 
article  of  food  which  was  placed  on  Overbury's  table ;  the 
dishes  being  sometimes  sent  in  apparent  kindness  by  Somer- 
set himself.  His  death  is  said  to  have  been  finally  accom- 
plished by  a  poisoned  clyster,  though,  according  to  other 
accounts,  the  ruffians,  perceiving  an  irruption  breaking  out 
over  his  body,  and  fearing  lest  the  symptoms  might  lead  to 
detection,  released  him  from  his  sufferings  by  smothering 
him  in  his  bed.  The  same  afternoon,  the  15th  of  September, 
1613,  Overbury's  body,  wrapt  in  a  sheet,  unattended  by 
either  relative  or  friend,  was  lowered  into  the  ground  in  the 
Tower  Chapel.  The  fate  of  the  principal  persons  engaged 
in  this  fearful  tragedy  has  been  recorded  elsewhere  in  these 
pages.  . 

Among  other  persons  of  rank  who  were  prisoners  in  the 


THOMAS,  EARL  OF  SOMERSET.  183 

Tower  in  the  reign  of  James  the  First  may  be  mentioned  Ger- 
vase,  Lord  Clifton,  committed  on  the  17th  of  December,  1G17, 
for  threatening  the  life  of  the  Lord  Keeper ;  Sir  Thomas  Lake 
and  his  lady,  imprisoned  in  February,  1619,  for  accusing  the 
Countess  of  Exeter  of  witchcraft  and  incest ;  the  Earl  and 
Countess  of  Suffolk,  committed  the  same  year  for  bribery 
and  corruption ;  the  great  Lord  Bacon,  and  the  scarcely  less 
celebrated  Sir  Edward  Coke.  Another  prisoner  of  note  was 
Thomas,  twentieth  Earl  of  Arundel,  described  by  Clarendon 
as  affecting  the  character  of  a  man  of  learning  though  ex- 
tremely illiterate,  and  as  thinking  "  no  part  of  history  so 
considerable  as  what  related  to  his  own  family."  His  com- 
mittal to  the  Tower  arose  out  of  a  debate  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  in  the  course  of  which  Lord  Spencer  happened  to 
refer  to  some  transactions  in  which  their  ancestors  had  been 
mutually  engaged.  "  My  Lord,"  interrupted  Arundel  con- 
temptuously, "  when  these  things  were  doing,  your  ancestors 
were  keeping  sheep." — "  When  my  ancestors  were  keeping 
sheep,"  retorted  Lord  Spencer,  "your  ancestors,  my  lord, 
were  plotting  treason."  The  altercation  now  became  so 
violent  as  to  call  for  the  interference  of  the  House,  and  as 
Arundel  refused  to  apologise,  the  Lords  committed  him  to 
the  Tower. 

That  the  unfortunate  Charles  the  First  was  ever  a  resident 
in  the  Tower  appears  to  be  highly  improbable.  At  the  ac- 
cession of  his  father,  the  ancient  custom  of  the  Kings  of 
England  passing  the  night  in  the  Tower  previous  to  their 
coronation  had  been  prevented  by  the  violence  with  which 
the  plague  was  raging  in  London  ;  and  again,  at  the  accession 
of  Charles,  it  was  dispensed  with  for  the  same  melancholy 
reason. 

Although  but  little  blood  was  shed  on  the  scaffold  during 
the  reign  of  Charles,  the  political  troubles  of  that  disastrous 


1 84  ASSASSINA  TION  OF  THE  D  UKE  OF  B  UCKINGHAM. 

period  led  to  numerous  arrests  and  committals  to  the  Tower. 
Among  the  persons  of  the  greatest  note  thus  committed 
may  be  mentioned  the  celebrated  patriots,  Selden,  Hollis, 
and  Sir  John  Eliot ;  John  Felton,  the  assassin  of  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham  ;  the  infamous  Mervin,  Earl  of  Castlehaven, 
better  known  as  Lord  Audley,  who  was  executed  on  Tower 
Hill,  on  the  14th  of  May,  1631 ;  the  famous  puritan,  Wil- 
liam Prynne ;  Thomas  Wentworth,  the  great  Earl  of  Straf- 
ford ;  Laud,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury ;  and  the  "  memo- 
rable simpleton,"  Philip,  Earl  of  Pembroke. 

Not  the  least  remarkable  of  these  individuals  was  the 
fanatical  assassin,  John  Felton.    The  circumstances  which — 

"  Gave  great  Villiers  to  th.'  assassin's  knife  " 

are  well  known.  Felton,  having  purchased  a  common  knife 
at  a  cutler's  shop  on  Tower  Hill,  proceeded  to  Portsmouth, 
where  Buckingham  was  then  preparing  for  his  second  expe- 
dition to  Rochelle.  Here  he  contrived  to  obtain  entrance  to 
the  Duke's  temporary  residence — a  house  still  standing  in 
the  High  Street  at  Portsmouth — where  he  posted  himself  in 
a  passage  adjoining  the  room  in-  which  his  victim  was  at 
breakfast  with  his  suite,  and  at  the  moment  when  the  Duke 
was  passing  under  some  hangings  leading  in  to  the  passage, 
stabbed  him  to  the  heart.  It  was  afterwards  remarked  by 
Felton  to  those  about  him,  that  when  he  struck  the 
blow,  he  felt  as  if  he  had  the  "force  of  forty  men"  in 
him ;  Felton  adding  the  further  curious  fact,  that  as  his 
arm  descended  on  the  Duke's  breast  he  solemnly  repeated 
the  words — "  God  have  mercy  on  thy  soul."  He  was  imme- 
diately arrested,  and  conveyed  under  a  strong  guard  to  the 
Tower,  where  he  remained  till  his  execution  at  Tyburn. 

At  his  trial  he  not  only  expressed  great  contrition  for  his 
crime,  but  when  the  knife  with  which  he  had  stabbed  the 


EXECUTION  OF  THE  ASSASSIN  FELTON.       185 

Duke  was  produced  in  court  he  shed  tears.  When  asked 
why  sentence  of  death  should  not  be  passed  upon  him,  he 
held  up  the  hand  which  had  committed  the  deed,  requesting 
that  it  might  first  be  cut  off,  and  that  he  might  then  suffer 
death  in  any  manner  the  court  might  think  fit.  He  further 
expressed  a  desire  that  on  the  scaffold  he  might  be  clothed  in 
sackcloth,  with  ashes  on  his  head  and  a  halter  round  his 
neck,  as  tokens  of  his  unworthiness  and  sincere  penitence. 
Yet,  notwithstanding  these  signs  of  weakness — if  such  they 
may  be  properly  called — Felton's  constitutional  courage 
never  forsook  him.  According  to  Philip,  Earl  of  Pembroke, 
who  attended  his  examinations,  he  had  never  seen  valour 
and  piety  "more  temperately  mixed"  in  the  same  person. 
From  Tyburn  Felton's  body  was  carried  to  Portsmouth, 
where  it  remained  suspended  for  a  considerable  time  in 
chains. 

On  the  12th  of  May,  1641,  Thomas  Wentworth,  the  great 
Earl  of  Strafford,  was  led  forth  from  the  Tower  to  his  execu- 
tion on  Tower  Hill.  His  old  and  revered  friend,  Archbishop 
Laud,  being  at  this  period  a  fellow-prisoner  with  him  in  the 
Tower,  Strafford  had  expressed  a  strong  desire  to  the  autho- 
rities to  be  allowed  a  last  interview  with  the  venerable  pre- 
late. The  request,  however,  being  deemed  inadmissible, 
Strafford  sent  a  message  to  the  Archbishop,  desiring  him  to 
remember  him  in  his  prayers,  at  the  same  time  preferring  a 
mournful  request  that  on  the  following  morning  Laud  would 
present  himself  at  the  grated  window  of  his  apartment,  in 
order  that,  as  the  Earl  passed  by  to  the  scaffold,  they  might 
have  the  melancholy  satisfaction  of  bidding  each  other  a 
final  farewell.  Accordingly,  the  next  day,  the  Archbishop, 
so  soon  as  he  was  informed  that  Strafford  was  approaching, 
caused  himself  to  be  supported  to  the  window,  at  which, 
lifting  up  his  trembling  hands  to  heaven,  he  solemnly 


186      EXECUTION  OF  THE  EARL  OF  STRAFFORD. 


blessed  and  prayed  for  his  friend.  A  moment  afterwards, 
borne  down  by  age  and  ill-health,  he  sank  to  the  ground. 
On  recovering  himself,  he  expressed  much  concern  lest  his 
weakness  should  be  attributed  to  dread  of  his  own  impend- 
ing death.  "  I  hope,"  he  said,  "  by  God's  assistance,  and 
through  mine  own  innocency,  that  when  I  come  to  my  own 
execution,  I  shall  show  the  world  how  much  more  sensible  I 
am  of  my  Lord  Strafford's  loss  than  I  am  of  my  own." 

In  the  mean  time  Strafford  had  passed  from  the  Tower  to- 
the  adjoining  hill,  less  with  the  air  of  a  condemned  criminal 
than  that  of  a  general  at  the  head  of  his  army.  It  had  been 
in  vain  that  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower  recommended  him 
to  make  use  of  a  coach  lest  he  should  be  torn  in  pieces  by 
the  people,  "  No,  Mr.  Lieutenant,"  he  said,  "  I  dare  look  death 
in  the  face,  and,  I  trust,  the  people  too."  In  a  brief  speech 
which  he  delivered  on  the  scaffold,  he  asserted  that  never  at 
any  moment  had  he  entertained  a  thought  opposed  to-  the 
welfare  either  of  the  King  or  people ;  that  he  bore  malice 
against  no  man  ;  that  he  sincerely  forgave  his  enemies,  and 
he  died  firm  in  the  true  faith  of  the  Church  of  England. 
Then,  having  shaken  hands  affectionately  with  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Armagh,  the  Earl  of  Cleveland,  and  with  his  bro- 
ther, Sir  George  Wentworth,  and  others  who  attended  him,, 
he  knelt  down  by  the  side  of  his  chaplain,  with  whom  he 
remained  praying  for  about  half  an  hour.  Rising  up  once 
more,  he  beckoned  his  brother  towards  him,  and  charged 
him  with  some  tender  touching  messages  to  his  wife  and 
young  children.  "  One  stroke  more,"  he  said,  "  will  make  my 
wife  husbandless,  my  dear  children  fatherless,  my  poor  ser- 
vants masterless,  and  will  separate  me  from  my  dear  brothers 
and  all  my  friends ;  but  let  God  be  to  you  and  to  them  all 
in  all."  The  Earl  then  took  off  his  doublet.  "  I  thank  God," 
he  said,  "  that  I  am  no  more  afraid  of  death,  but  as  cheer- 


EXECUTION  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LAUD.  187 

fully  put  off  my  doublet  at  this  time  as  ever  I  did  when  I 
went  to  bed."  Having  put  on  a  white  cap,  and  thrust  his 
hair  underneath  it  with  his  own  hands,  he  knelt  down  by 
the  block ;  the  Archbishop  kneeling  on  one  side  of  him,  and 
another  clergyman  on  the  other;  the  latter  clasping  the 
Earl's  hands  in  his  while  they  prayed.  He  should  first  of 
all,  he  told  the  executioner,  make  a  trial  of  the  block  by 
laying  his  head  upon  it ;  desiring  him  not  to  strike  till  he- 
should  give  him  the  signal  by  stretching  out  his  hands. 
Shortly  afterwards,  having  placed  his  head  a  second  time 
upon  the  block,  he  gave  the  appointed  signal,  when  at  one 
blow  his  head  was  severed  from  his  body. 

It  was  more  than  four  years  afterwards,  on  the  10th  of 
January,  1645,  that  the  venerable  Laud,  amidst  the  brutal 
revilings  of  the  populace,  was  led  forth  from  the  Tower  to 
suffer  upon  the  same  spot  which  had  witnessed  the  execu- 
tion of  his  friend.  His  end  was  marked  by  exemplary  piety 
and  fortitude.  When  apprised  of  the  day  on  which  he  was 
to  suffer — "  No  one,"  he  said,  "  can  be  more  ready  to  send  me 
out  of  life  than  I  am  to  go."  Not  only  was  the  night  pre- 
vious to  his  death  passed  by  him  in  a  sound  sleep,  but  when 
he  was  awakened  by  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower  on  the 
following  morning,  it  was  remarked  that  his  countenance  ex- 
hibited the  same  freshness  of  colour  which  it  had  ever  worn. 
Ascending  the  scaffold  with  a  serene  and  even  cheerful 
countenance,  he  proceeded  to  deliver  a  brief  speech  to  the 
bystanders,  at  the  conclusion  of  which  he  turned  calmly  to 
the  executioner,  and,  presenting  him  with  some  money, 
desired  him  to  do  his  work  quickly.  Then,  kneeling  down, 
he  repeated  a  short  prayer,  after  which  he  laid  his  head  on 
the  block  and  gave  the  appointed  signal  to  the  executioner  by 
repeating  the  words,  "  Lord,  receive  my  soul,"  when  the  axe 
fell  and  severed  his  head  from  his  body  by  a  single  stroke. 


188  PARLIAMENTARY  PRISONERS  IN  THE  TOWER. 

During  the  Commonwealth  the  apartments  and  dungeons 
of  the  Tower  were  constantly  filled  with  the  devoted 
adherents  of  Charles  the  First  and  the  House  of  Stuart. 
Among  the  most  distinguished  we  find  Sir  John  Hotham 
.and  his  gallant  son,  Captain  Hotham ;  Sir  Alexander 
Carew ;  the  venerable  Lord  Montague  of  Boughton ;  the 
Earl  of  Berkshire ;  Sir  William  Morton,  the  gallant  defender 
of  Sudeley  Castle  ;  Colonel  Monk,  afterwards  Duke  of  Albe- 
marle ;  the  Marquis  of  Winchester,  captured  at  the  surrender 
of  Basing  House ;  the  Earl  of  Cleveland ;  Sir  Lewis  Dives  ; 
James  Duke  of  Hamilton ;  the  gay  and  gallant  Earl  of  Hol- 
land ;  the  profligate  ( George  Goring,  Earl  of  Norwich ;  the 
high-minded  Lord  Capel;  Sir  Richard  Gurney,  Sir  John 
Oayne,  and  Sir  Abraham  Reynardson,  successively  Lord 
Mayors  of  London  ;  Lords  Beauchamp,  Bellasyse,  and  Chan- 
dos ;  Edward  Lord  Howard  of  Esrick ;  the  Earls  of  Craw- 
ford, Lauderdale,  Kelly,  and  Rothes,  taken  prisoners  at  the 
battle  of  Worcester;  the  famous  Scottish  general,  General 
Lesley,  and  the  celebrated  Edward  Marquis  of  Worcester. 
Of  the  fate  of  the  Duke  of  Hamilton,  the  Earl  of  Holland, 
and  Lord  Capel  we  have  already  given  an  account.  Of  the 
others,  Sir  John  Hotham,  and  his  son,  Captain  Hotham,  who 
had  been  convicted  of  a  design  to  deliver  up  the  town  of 
Hull  to  the  King,  were  severally  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill  in 
1,644,  while  about  the  same  time  with  them  Sir  Alexander 
Carew,  Governor  of  St.  Nicholas  Island  near  Plymouth,  suf- 
fered a  like  fate  on  the  same  spot. 

Of  the  very  few  state  prisoners  who  from  time  to  time 
are  recorded  to  have  made  their  escape  from  the  fortress, 
may  be  mentioned  two  of  the  leaders  of  the  suppressed 
Irish  rebellion,  Lord  Macquire  and  Colonel  M'Mahon. 
Having  contrived  to  cut  through  the  door  of  their  apart- 
ment, they  descended  into  the  Tower  ditch,  which  they 


LORD  CAPEL'S  ATTEMPT  TO  ESCAPE.  189 

easily  swam,  and  for  some  time  remained  concealed  in  the- 
house  of  the  agent  of  the  French  government.  Their  re- 
treat, however,  having  been  subsequently  discovered,  they 
were  hanged  and  quartered  at  Tyburn  conformably  with  the 
terms  of  their  sentence. 

A  more  romantic  attempt  to  escape  from  the  Tower  was 
that  of  Lord  Capel,  as  described  in  the  graphic  pages  of 
Lord  Clarendon.     "  Having  a  cord  and  all  things  conveyed 
necessary  to  him,  he  let  himself  down  out  of  the  window  of 
his  chamber  in  the  night  over  the  wall  of  the  Tower,  having 
been  directed  through  what  part  of  the  ditch  he  might  be 
best  able  to  wade.     Whether  he  found  the  right  place,  or 
whether  there  was  no  safer  place,  he  found  the  water  and 
the  mud  so  deep,  that  if  he  had  not  been  by  the  head  taller 
than  other  men  he  must  have  perished,  since  the  water  came 
up  to  his  chin.     But  it  pleased  God  that  he  got  at  last  to 
the  other  side,  where  his  friends  expected  him,  and  carried 
him  to  a  chamber  in  the  Temple.     After  two  or  three  days, 
a  friend  whom  he  trusted  much,  and  who  deserved  to  be 
trusted,  conceiving  that  he  might  be  more  secure  in  a  place 
to  which  there  was  less  resort,  had  provided  a  lodging  for 
him  in  a  private  house  in  Lambeth  Marsh ;  and  calling  upon 
him  in  an  evening  when  it  was  dark  to  go  thither,  they 
chose  rather  to  take  any  boat  they  found  ready  at  the  Tem- 
ple Stairs,  than  to  trust  one  of  that  people  with  the  secret ; 
and  it  was  so  late  that  there  was  only  one  boat  left  there. 
In  that  the  Lord  Capel  (as  well  disguised  as  he  thought  ne- 
cessary) and  his  friend  put  themselves,  and  bid  the   water- 
man to  row  them  to  Lambeth.     Whether  in  their  passage 
thither  the  other  gentleman  called  him  '  My  Lord,'  as  was 
confidently  reported,  or  the  waterman  had  any  jealousy  by 
observing  what  he  thought  was  a  disguise,  when  they  were 
landed  the  wicked  waterman,  undi  seemed,  folio  wed 


190  CROMWELL'S  TOWER  PRISONERS. 

till  he  saw  into  what  house  they  went,  and  then  went  to  an 
officer  and  demanded  '  what  he  would  give  him  to  bring  him 
to  the  place  where  the  Lord  Capel  lay  ?'  and  the  officer 
promising  to  give  him  ten  pounds,  he  led  him  presently  to 
the  house,  where  that  excellent  person  was  seized  upon,  and 
the  next  day  carried  to  the  Tower." 

During  the  administration  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  the  in- 
trigues of  the  Fifth-monarchists  and  the  frequent  attempts 
-against  the  life  and  government  of  the  Protector  kept  the 
Tower  constantly  tenanted  with  prisoners.  Hence,  in  1654, 
the  young  fanatic,  Sir  John  Gerrard,  and  the  famous  school- 
master, Vowel,  were  led  forth — the  one  to  be  beheaded  on 
Tower  Hill,  and  the  Qther  to  be  hanged  at  Tyburn.  Here, 
too,  it  was  that  the  daring  assassin,  Miles  Syndercombe,  was 
found  so  mysteriously  dead  in  his  bed,  and  hence  the  amiable 
divine,  Dr.  Hewett,  and  the  gallant  cavalier,  Sir  Henry 
Slingsby,  were  dragged  mercilessly  to  their  execution.  Here, 
during  the  Protectorate,  the  witty  and  profligate  George 
Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham, — 

"  That  life  of  pleasure,  and  that  scml  of  whim  " — 

was  confined  ;  and  lastly,  here  was  imprisoned,  on  suspicion 
of  her  being  a  secret  agent  of  her  royal  lover,  Charles  the 
Second,  the  famous  Lucy  Walters,  mother  of  the  unfortu- 
nate Duke  of  Monmouth,  one  of  the  earliest,  and  perhaps 
the  most  beautiful,  of  the  mistresses  of  the  "merry 
monarch." 

Charles  the  Second  appears  to  have  been  the  last  of  our 
sovereigns  who  have  slept  beneath  the  roof  of  the  Tower. 
Following  the  ancient  usage  we  have  referred  to,  he  passed 
here  the  night  which  preceded  his  coronation,  and  hence  the 
next  morning  proceeded  with  the  customary  state  and  mag- 
nificence to  Westminster. 


WILLIAM  LORD  RUSSELL.  191 

At  the  Restoration,  the  Tower,  as  might  naturally  be 
expected,  was  crowded  with  a  host  of  regicides,  Fifth- 
monarchy  men,  and  other  political  and  religious  enthusiasts. 
Here  were  imprisoned  the  crafty  visionary,  Sir  Henry  Vane ; 
the  sturdy  enthusiast,  General  Harrison ;  the  witty  and  im- 
pious Henry  Marten ;  Edmund  Ludlow ;  the  brutal  Solici- 
tor-General, John  Cook,  who  conducted  the  prosecution 
against  Charles  the  First ;  Colonel  Daniel  Axtell,  who  com- 
manded the  guard  on  the  occasion ;  Colonel  Francis  Hacker, 
who  commanded  the  guard  on  the  scaffold ;  Captain  William 
Hewlet,  accused,  though  erroneously,  of  having  been  the 
masked  executioner;  and  lastly,  the  heartless,  fanatical 
preacher,  Hugh  Peters.  Sir  Henry  Vane  was  beheaded  on 
Tower  Hill ;  Harrison,  Cook,  Axtell,  Hacker,  and  Hugh 
Peters  were  hanged,  drawn,  and  quartered ;  Henry  Marten 
died  in  Chepstow  Castle,  after  an  imprisonment  of  twenty 
years  ;  and  Edmund  Ludlow  in  exile  in  Switzerland,  nearly 
half  a  century  after  he  had  put  his  pen  to  the  death-warrant 
of  his  sovereign.  Of  the  other  regicides,  Colonel  Adrian 
Scrope,  Colonel  John  Jones,  Colonel  John  Okey,  Colonel 
John  Barkstead,  Gregory  Clement,  Miles  Corbet,  and  Thomas 
Corbet  were  hanged,  drawn,  and  quartered  in  pursuance  of 
the  terms  of  their  sentence. 

Unquestionably  the  two  most  interesting  prisoners  in  the 
Tower  during  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  were  the 
high-minded  friends,  William  Lord  Russell,  and  Algernon 
Sidney.  The  circumstances  which  led  them  to  the  block 
are  familiar  to  every  one.  Lord  Russell  was  the  first  who 
suffered.  In  vain  did  his  afflicted  wife  throw  herself  at  the 
King's  feet ;  in  vain  plead  the  services  and  merits  of  her 
father,  the  good  Earl  of  Southampton,  as  some  atonement 
for  the  errors  of  her  husband.  The  noble  patriot's  last 
parting  with  this  high-minded  woman  was  perhaps  the 


192  EXECUTION  OF  LOUD  RUSSELL. 

severest  trial  of  his  life.  Happily,  however,  her  behaviour, 
instead  of  unmanning,  served  to  strengthen  the  resolution 
of  her  unfortunate  lord.  On  her  quitting  him — "  Now,"  he 
said,  "  the  bitterness  of  death  is  past."  Again,  when  the 
Duke  of  Monmouth  offered  to  surrender  himself,  in  hopes 
that  by  this  means  he  might  save  his  friend's  life — "No," 
he  said,  "it  will  be  of  no  advantage  to  me  to  have  my 
friends  die  with  me."  To  the  last  he  maintained  an  equa- 
nimity becoming  his  high  character  for  piety  and  virtue. 
The  day  before  his  execution,  being  seized  with  a  bleeding 
at  the  nose,  he  cheerfully  observed  to  Bishop  Burnet — "  I 
shall  not  let  blood  to  divert  this  distemper ;  that  will  be 
done  to-morrow."  Shortly  before  the  sheriffs  came  to  con- 
duct him  to  the  scaffold,  he  wound  up  his  watch, — "  Now,"" 
he  said,  "  I  have  done  with  time,  and  must  think  henceforth 
of  eternity."  His  execution,  as  has  been  already  mentioned, 
took  place  on  the  21st  of  July,  1G83,  in  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields.  A  vast  crowd  of  people  witnessed  and  deeply  com- 
miserated his  fate.  Having  concluded  his  devotions,  he 
undressed  himself,  and  without  the  least  change  of  counte- 
nance placed  his  neck  upon  the  block,  when,  at  two  strokes, 
the  executioner  severed  his  head  from  his  body. 

On  the  7th  of  December  the  same  year  was  beheaded  on 
Tower  Hill  the  virtuous  and  unbending  republican  Alger- 
non Sidney.  Declining  the  attendance  even  of  a  single 
friend,  and  followed,  merely  "  for  decency,"  by  two  footmen 
of  his  brother  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  he  passed  on  foot  from 
the  Tower  to  the  scaffold.  Ascending  it  with  a  firm  step, 
a  haughty  look,  and  an  erect  posture,  his  appearance  was* 
that  of  a  person  who  came  to  command  rather  than  to  suffer. 
"  Englishmen  wept  not  for  him  as  they  had  done  for  Lord 
Russell,"  writes  Dalrymple ;  "  their  pulses  beat  high,  their 
hearts  swelled,  they  felt  an  unusual  grandeur  and  elevation 


DEATH  OF  THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX. 


of  mind  whilst  they  looked  upon  him."  When  asked  by 
one  of  the  sheriffs  whether  it  was  his  intention  to  harangue 
the  people,  he  answered  in  the  negative.  "  I  have  made  my 
peace  with  God,"  he  said,  "  and  have  nothing  to  say  to  man." 
A  moment  afterwards,  he  added — "  I  am  ready  to  die,  and 
will  give  you  no  further  trouble."  His  last  prayer  was  for 
the  "  good  old  cause."  Instead  of  endeavouring  to  prolong 
existence  by  protracted  prayers  and  lingering  farewells,  he 
hurried  through  the  melancholy  preparations,  and  hastening 
towards  the  block  as  if  impatient  to  die,  submitted  himself 
to  the  stroke  of  the  executioner. 

Not  the  least  remarkable  event  connected  with  the  history 
of  the  Tower  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  was  the 
mysterious  and  tragical  end  of  Arthur  Capel,  Earl  of  Essex, 
after  his  committal  on  the  charge  of  having  been  engaged 
in  the  famous  Rye  House  Plot.  Lord  Russell's  trial  was 
proceeding  in  Hicks's  Hall,  when,  in  the  course  of  the  day, 
intelligence  was  received  in  court  that  the  Earl  had  been 
discovered  with  his  throat  cut  by  a  razor.  A  strong  sus- 
picion that  he  had  been  murdered  with  the  connivance  of 
the  court  existed  at  the  time,  but  taking  the  different  cir- 
cumstances into  consideration,  it  seems  a  much  more  reason- 
able supposition  that  the  Earl  was  the  author  of  his  own 
death.  Charles,  indeed,  is  said  to  have  been  deeply  affected 
when  the  tragical  story  was  communicated  to  him.  Allud- 
ing to  the  execution  of  the  Earl's  father,  the  good  and  brave 
Lord  Capel — "  My  Lord  Essex,"  he  said,  "  need  not  have  de- 
spaired of  mercy,  for  I  owed  him  a  life." 

Probably  no  person  ever  paid  so  many  penal  visits  to  the 
Tower  as  a  prisoner,  as  the  profligate  and  versatile  George 
Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  We  have  already  seen  him 
imprisoned  there  during  the  administration  of  Cromwell,  in 
addition  to  which  he  was  committed  to  the  Tower  no  fewer 

VOL.  II.  13 


194    IMPRISONMENT  OF  DUKE  OF  BUCKINGHAM. 

than  four  different  times  during  the  reign  of  Charles  the- 
Second.  The  first  occasion  was  in  1666,  on  account  of  in- 
sults offered  by  him  in  the  House  of  Lords  to  Thomas  Earl 
of  Ossory,  eldest  son  of  the  Duke  of  Ormond.  The  next 
occasion  occurred  a  short  time  afterwards,  during  a  confer- 
ence which  took  place  between  the  Houses  of  Lords  and 
Commons,  when  the  Duke  not  only  involved  himself  in  a 
disgraceful  squabble  with  the  Marquis  of  Dorchester,  but 
went  so  far  as  to  knock  off  the  Marquis's  hat,  and  pull  aside 
his  periwig.  The  third  occasion  was  in  1667,  when  lie  was 
imprisoned  in  the  Tower  for  "  treasonable  and  seditious 
practices ;"  and,  lastly,  here  he  was  committed  the  same 
year  for  using  unconstitutional  language  during  a  debate- 
of  great  importance  in  the  House  of  Lords.  On  the  latter 
occasion  was  also  committed  to  the  Tower  the  turbulent 
incendiary,  Anthony  Ashley  Cooper,  Earl  of  Shaftesburyr 
whom  Dryden,  in  his  "Absalom  and  Achitophel,"  has 
"damned  to  everlasting  fame."  Buckingham,  on  making 
a  proper  submission,  was  released  after  a  short  confinement ; 
but  Shaftesbury,  desirous  of  being  regarded  as  a  political 
martyr,  chose  to  continue  refractory,  and  consequently  re- 
mained a  prisoner  for  nearly  a  year.  As  the  gay  Duke  on 
quitting  the  Tower  was  passing  under  the  windows  of 
Shaftesbury's  apartments  in  the  Tower,  the  stubborn  Earl 
looked  out  wistfully — "  What,"  he  said,  "  are  you  going  to- 
leave  us  ?"  "  Why,  yes,"  replied  Buckingham,  "  such  giddy- 
headed  fellows  as  I  am  can  never  stay  long  in  one  place." 
•  The  name  of  George  Villiers  recalls  that  of  another  pri- 
soner as  gay,  as  witty,  and  as  unprincipled,  John  Wilmot, 
Earl  of  Rochester,  who  was  committed  to  the  Tower  about 
the  year  1669  for  the  forcible  abduction  of  Elizabeth  Mal- 
lett,  la  triste  htfritiere  of  De  Grammont,  whom  he  afterwards 
married,  and  who  became  the  mother  of  his  children. 


IMPRISONMENT  OF  DUKE  OF  MON MOUTH.      195 

During  the  brief  reign  of  James  the  Second  the  prisoners 
in  the  Tower  of  the  greatest  note  were  James  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth  ;  the  seven  Bishops  ;  and,  lastly,  the  brutal  Chancel- 
lor, George  Lord  Jeffreys.  After  the  fatal  battle  of  Sedg- 
moor,  the  unfortunate  Monmouth  had  wandered  about  the 
country,  disguised  in  peasant's  clothes,  during  two  miserable 
days  and  nights,  when  he  was  at  last  discovered  in  a  dry 
ditch  in  Dorsetshire,  near  the  New  Forest,  with  some  peas, 
his  whole  stock  of  provisions,  in  one  pocket,  and  the  George 
and  Garter  in  another.  From  the  spot  where  he  was 
recognized  he  was  conducted  by  a  strong  guard  of  militia  to 
Vauxhall,  where  he  was  received  by  Lord  Oxford's  regiment 
of  horse,  who  brought  him  by  water  to  Whitehall,  whence, 
the  same  evening,  he  was  carried  to  the  Tower.  For  some 
days  after  his  arrest  his  fears  are  described  as  distressing  in 
the  extreme.  As  his  end  drew  near,  however,  he  roused  him- 
self from  his  despondency,  and  prepared  for  the  last  stroke 
with  a  fortitude  becoming  his  natural  character.  On  the 
day  before  his  execution,  his  wronged  and  amiable  Duchess 
was,  by  her  own  earnest  desire,  admitted  to  a  last  interview 
with  him  in  the  Tower.  According  to  an  eye-witness,  the 
Duke,  in  the  course  of  their  mournful  meeting,  "  gave  her 
the  kindest  character  that  could  be ;  begged  her  pardon  for 
his  many  failings  and  offences  to  her,  and  prayed  her  to  con- 
tinue her  kindness  and  care  to  her  poor  children ;  at  which 
expression  she  fell  down  on  her  knees,  with  her  eyes  full  of 
tears,  and  begged  him  to  pardon  her  if  ever  she  had  done 
anything  to  offend  and  displease  him ;  and,  embracing  his 
knees,  fell  into  a  swoon,  out  of  which  they  had  much  ado 
to  raise  her  up  in  a  good  while  after.  A  little  before,  his 
children  were  brought  to  him,  all  crying  about  him  ;  but  he 
acquitted  himself  of  these  last  adieus  with  much  composure, 
showing  nothing  of  weakness  or  unmanliness." 

13—2 


196          EXECUTION  OF  DUKE  OF  MO N MOUTH. 

On  the  night  before  his  execution,  Monmouth  was  attended 
by  the  Bishops  of  Ely,  and  Bath  and  Wells,  who  prayed  with 
him,  and  watched  by  him  while  he  slept.  On  the  following 
morning  he  was  visited  by  a  third  prelate,  the  pious  Tenison, 
afterwards  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who  has  left  us  an 
interesting  account  of  their  interview.  About  ten  o'clock, 
accompanied  by  the  two  Bishops,  Monmouth  was  conducted 
through  an  avenue  of  soldiers  to  Tower  Hill.  Mounting  the 
scaffold  without  the  least  apparent  fear,  he  addressed  a  brief 
farewell  to  the  populace,  of  whom  he  was  the  idol.  After 
an  avowal  that  he  died  in  the  faith  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, he  turned  to  the  subject  nearest  his  heart,  and  spoke  of 
his  paramour,  Lady  Henrietta  Wentworth,  whom  he  had 
always  affected  to  regard  as  his  wife  in  the  eyes  of  God ; 
pleading  as  his  excuse  his  almost  infantine  marriage  with 
his  Duchess,  in  which  he  had  had  no  choice.  She  was  a 
person,  he  said,  of  great  honour  and  virtue ;  "  a  religious 
godly  lady."  The  Bishops  reminded  him  of  the  sin  of  adul- 
tery. "  No,"  he  replied ;  "  for  these  two  years  last  past,  I 
have  lived  in  no  sin  that  I  know  of.  I  have  wronged  no 
person,  and  I  am  sure  when  I  die  I  shall  go  to  God ;  there- 
fore I  do  not  fear  death,  which  you  may  see  in  my  face." 
The  Bishops  then  commenced  praying  for  him  as  they 
kneeled  beside  him ;  concluding  with  a  short  prayer  for 
the  King,  at  which  he  hesitated  a  moment,  but  at  length 
he  said  "  Amen."  To  the  executioner  he  then  presented  six 
guineas ;  intrusting  four  more  to  a  bystander,  with  injunc- 
tions to  deliver  them  to  the  headsman  in  the  event  of  his 
performing  his  task  with  adroitness.  While  he  was  undress- 
ing himself,  the  Bishops  continued  to  exhort  him  with  pious 
ejaculations.  "  God,"  they  said,  "  accept  your  repentance  ; 
God  accept  your  imperfect  repentance;  God  accept  your 
general  repentance  1"  Then,  refusing  to  have  his  eyes  band- 


COMMITTAL  OF  THE  SEVEN  BISHOPS.          197 

aged,  he  knelt  down,  and  laying  his  head  upon  the  block, 
gave  the  appointed  signal.  Unhappily  the  executioner, 
whether  from  dismay  or  pity,  struck  so  feeble  a  blow  that 
Monmouth,  to  the  horror  of  the  spectators,  raised  his  head 
from  the  block,  and  looked  him,  as  if  reproachfully,  in  the 
face.  It  was  not,  indeed,  till  the  fifth  blow  that  the  execu- 
tioner completed  his  bloody  work.  The  Duke's  remains, 
having  been  placed  in  a  coffin  covered  with  black  velvet, 
were  conveyed  in  a  hearse  to  the  Tower  Chapel. 

It  may  be  mentioned  that  on  the  day  on  which  the  news 
of  Monmouth's  defeat  was  received  in  London,  his  Duchess, 
with  her  two  young  sons,  was  committed  to  the  Tower. 
Her  imprisonment,  however,  would  seem  to  have  been  of 
no  long  duration,  inasmuch  as  we  find  the  King  inviting 
himself  to  breakfast  with  her  on  the  morning  of  her  hus- 
band's execution,  which  he  could  scarcely  have  done  had 
she  been  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower. 

"  She  had  known  adversity, 
Though  born  in  such  a  high  degree  ; 
In  pride  of  power,  and  beauty's  bloom, 
Had  wept  o'er  Monmouth's  bloody  tomb." 

Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel. 

On  the  occasion  of  the  committal  of  the  Seven  Bishops,  on 
the  8th  of  June,  1688,  the  landing-place  at  the  Tower  pre- 
sented a  remarkable  scene.  During  their  passage  down  the 
river  they  had  at  every  point  been  greeted  with  blessings 
and  acclamations  by  the  large  multitudes  which  crowded  its 
banks ;  the  Bishops,  in  their  turn,  with  a  lowly  and  submis- 
sive deportment,  exhorting  the  people  to  remain  true  to  their 
loyalty,  to  fear  God,  and  honour  the  King.  As  they  neared 
the  Tower,  many  people  waded  into  the  water  to  obtain  a 
share  of  their  benedictions,  while,  on  landing,  even  the  sol- 
diers, partaking  of  the  universal  enthusiasm,  flung  them- 


198  DEATH  OF  LORD  JEFFREYS. 

selves  on  their  knees  before  the  fathers  of  their  Church,  and 
craved  the  blessing  of  the  prisoners  whom  they  were 
appointed  to  guard.  On  entering  the  Tower,  the  Bishops 
immediately  proceeded  to  attend  evening  service  in  the 
Chapel,  when  it  was  remarked  how  apposite  was  a  passage 
in  the  second  lesson  to  their  peculiar  position.  (2  Cor.,  vi:) 
"  Giving  no  offence  in  anything,  that  the  ministry  be  not 
blamed :  but  in  all  things  approving  ourselves  as  the  minis- 
ters of  God,  in  much  patience,  in  afflictions,  in  distresses,  in 
imprisonments,"  &c.  On  the  loth  of  June,  the  Bishops  were 
brought  from  the  Tower  to  the  bar  of  the  Court  of  King's 
Bench,  where  they  were  admitted  to  bail. 

On  the  12th  of  December  following  was  committed  to  the 
Tower  the  inhuman  Lord  Chancellor  Jeffreys.  About  the 
time  that  King  James  fled  from  "Whitehall,  the  Chancellor, 
disguised  in  the  habit  of  a  common  sailor,  took  up  his  abode 
in  a  small  house  at  Wapping,  from  one  of  the  windows  of 
which  he  was  looking  into  the  street,  when  he  was  recog- 
nised by  a  clerk  in  Chancery,  who  immediately  gave  such 
information  as  led  to  his  arrest.  On  his  way  to  be  examined 
before  the  Lord  Mayor,  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
that  the  mob  could  be  prevented  from  tearing  him  to  pieces. 
The  effect  which  his  presence  produced  on  the  Lord  Mayor 
was  very  different.  So  great  was  his  consternation  at  having 
to  sit  in  judgment  upon  one  so  ruthless  and  dreaded  as  the 
inhuman  Chancellor,  that  during  the  examination  he  was 
seized  with  a  fit  of  apoplexy,  of  which  he  shortly  afterwards 
died.  Jeffreys,  while  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower,  is  said  to 
have  indulged  more  than  ever  in  the  habit  of  intemperate 
drinking  to  which  he  had  for  some  time  been  addicted,  which 
indulgence,  combined  with  the  treatment  he  had  received 
from  the  mob,  shortly  afterwards  threw  him  into  a  fever,  of 
which  he  died.  The  warrant  for  his  burial  in  the  Tower 


•      SIR  ROBERT  WALPOLE  IN  THE  TOWER.        199 

•Chapel  is  endorsed  "  George  Lord  Jeffreys,  died  19th  April, 
1689,  35  minutes  past  four  in  the  morning." 

The  principal  prisoners  in  the  Tower  in  the  reign  of 
"William  the  Third  were  the  well-known  Arthur  Herbert, 
Earl  of  Torrington,  committed  in  1690  for  his  conduct  in 
the  action  with  the  French  fleet  off  Beechy  Head ;  Bichard 
Viscount  Preston,  condemned  to  death  for  high  treason,  but 
subsequently  pardoned;  John,  afterwards  the  celebrated 
Duke  of  Marlborough ;  Charles  Lord  Mohun,  twice  during 
this  reign  committed  for  murder ;  and,  lastly,  the  gallant  and 
lamented  Sir  John  Fenwick,  who,  having  been  found  guilty 
of  high  treason,  was  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill  on  the  28th  of 
January,  1697. 

During  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne  the  Tower  presents  but 
slight  features  of  interest  Comparatively  few  persons  were 
imprisoned  here  during  her  reign,  and  of  these,  Sir  Robert 
Walpole — committed  in  1712  "for  high  breach  of  trust  and 
notorious  corruption  " — is  the  only  individual  whose  name 
is  famous  in  history.  Confidence  in  his  own  innocence,  as 
well  as  the  esteem  and  admiration  with  which  his  own  party 
continued  to  regard  him,  must  have  gone  far  to  soften  the 
rigour  of  imprisonment.  So  crowded  was  his  apartment  in 
the  Tower  by  persons  of  the  first  rank  and  distinction,  as  to 
have  far  more  resembled  a  splendid  levee  than  the  prison  of 
a  proscribed  man.  Among  his  constant  visitors  were  the 
great  Duke  of  Marlborough  and  his  beautiful  Duchess ;  the 
celebrated  ministers,  Lords  Godolphin,  Somers,  and  Sunder- 
land ;  and  the  famous  Pulteney,  then  his  most  intimate 
friend,  but  afterwards  his  bitterest  enemy.  The  apartment 
occupied  by  Walpole  in  the  Tower  was  subsequently  inha- 
bited by  the  once  weU-known  poet,  George  Granville,  Lord 
Lansdowne,  when  in  1715  that  nobleman  suffered  imprison- 
ment for  his  attachment  to  the  House  of  Stuart.  Walpole 


200       ESCAPE  OF  THE  EARL  OF  NITHISDALE.     » 

had  written  his  name  on  the  window,  which  having  been 
pointed  out  to  Lord  Lansdowne,  he  inscribed  beneath  it  the 
following  lines: — 

"Good  unexpected,  evil  iinforeseen, 
Appear  by  turns,  as  fortune  shifts  the  scene  ; 
Some,  raised  aloft,  come  tumbling  down  amain, 
And  fall  so  hard,  they  bound  and  rise  again." 

In  June,  1715,  shortly  after  the  accession  of  George  the 
First,  Kobert  Harley,  Earl  of  Oxford,  was  arrested  for  high 
treason  and  committed  to  the  Tower,  whither  he  was  followed 
by  large  crowds  of  people,  who  plainly  showed  their  sympa- 
thy with  the  altered  fortunes  of  the  once  powerful  statesman. 
Here  he  remained  a  prisoner  about  two  years,  when,  on  his 
own  petition,  he  was  brought  to  trial  before  the  House  of 
Peers,  by  which  tribunal  he  was  unanimously  acquitted.  A 
fellow-prisoner  with  the  Earl  of  Oxford  in  the  Tower,  was 
the  eloquent  and  accomplished  statesman,  Sir  William 
Wyndham,  committed,  in  August,  1715,  for  his  supposed 
intrigues  on  behalf  of  the  House  of  Stuart.  Sir  William, 
after  a  short  imprisonment,  obtained  his  release  without 
having  had  to  undergo  the  ordeal  of  a  trial. 

The  suppression  of  the  Scottish  insurrection  in  1715 
crowded  the  Tower  with  several  gallant  and  unfortunate 
prisoners.  Among  these  were  James  Radcliffe,  Earl  of  Der- 
wentwater ;  William  Maxwell,  Earl  of  Nithisdale ;  Robert 
Dalziel,  Earl  of  Carnwath ;  George  Seton,  Earl  of  Wintoun ; 
William  Gordon,  Viscount  Kenmure ;  William  Widdrington, 
Lord  Widdrington ;  and  William  Murray,  Lord  Nairn:  Of 
these  devoted  adherents  to  the  House  of  Stuart,  two  only, 
the  Earl  of  Derwentwater  and  Lord  Kenmure,  suffered  on 
the  scaffold.  The  Earl  of  Nithisdale  contrived  to  escape 
from  the  Tower  in  female  attire,  and  Lord  Wintoun,  by  saw- 
ing through  the  bars  of  his  prison  and  inducing  his  keepers- 


EXEC  UTION  OF  DEE  WEN  TWA  TER.  201 

to  connive  in  his  flight.  Lord  Nairn  was  respited  and  sub- 
sequently pardoned,  and,  lastly,  the  Earl  of  Carnwath  and 
Lord  Widdrington  were  released  by  the  Act  of  Grace  in 
1717. 

The  Earl  of  Derwentwater  and  Lord  Kenmure  were  exe- 
cuted on  the  same  scaffold,  on  the  24th  of  February,  1716. 
The  gallant  Derwentwater  was  the  first  who  suffered.  About 
ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  he  was  brought  in  a  coach  from 
the  Tower  to  the  Transport  Office  on  Tower  Hill,  where  he 
remained  a  short  time,  and  was  then  led  through  an  avenue 
of  soldiers  to  the  scaffold,  which  was  erected  directly  oppo- 
site, and  was  entirely  covered  with  black.  As  he  ascended 
the  fatal  steps,  his  countenance  was  observed  to  turn  pale  ; 
yet  his  voice  remained  firm,  and  he  preserved  his  natural 
composure.  Having  passed  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in 
prayer,  he  read  aloud  a  paper  to  the  bystanders,  in  which  he 
professed  the  most  unshaken  loyalty  to  the  chevalier  St. 
George,  whom  alone  he  acknowledged  as  his  lawful  sove- 
reign. He  then  closely  examined  the  block,  and  finding  a 
rough  place  on  it,  desired  the  executioner  to  chip  it  off  with 
his  axe.  This  being  done,  he  took  off  his  coat  and  waistcoat, 
telling  the  executioner,  who  knelt  down  to  receive  his  for- 
giveness, that  he  would  find  something  in  the  pockets  to 
reward  him  for  his  trouble.  Having  knelt  down,  he  repeated 
a  sly  x  prayer,  after  which  he  intimated  to  the  executioner 
th? .  the  sign  for  him  to  strike  would  be  his  third  repetition 
of  the  words — "  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  soul !"  and  the 
stretching  forth  of  his  arms.  He  then  fitted  his  neck  to 
the  block,  and  having  given  the  appointed  signal,  the  execu- 
tioner performed  his  office  at  a  single  blow. 

The  virtuous  and  amiable  Lord  Kenmure  was  then 
brought  on  the  scaffold,  attended  by  his  son,  a  few  friends, 
and  two  clergymen  of  the  Church  of  England.  Having 


202  EXECUTION  OF  LORD  KEN  MURE. 

mounted  the  steps  with  great  firmness,  he  advanced  to  one 
side  of  the  scaffold,  where  he  passed  some  time  at  his  devo- 
tions, in  the  course  of  which  he  was  heard  to  pray  audibly 
for  the  exiled  Prince  in  whose  cause  he  was  about  to  suffer. 
Having  concluded  his  devotions,  he  presented  the  executioner 
with  some  money,  telling  him  he  should  give  him  no  sign, 
but  that,  when  he  had  lain  down,  he  was  to  strike  whenever 
he  thought  fit.  He  then  knelt  down,  and  having  passed  a 
few  moments  in  inward  devotion,  placed  his  neck  upon  the 
block  with  his  arms  clasped  tightly  round  it,  when  the  exe- 
cutioner, seizing  his  opportunity,  raised  his  axe,  and  at  two 
blows  severed  his  head  from  his  body. 

On  the  24th  of  August,  1722,  was  committed  to  the  Tower 
the  celebrated  Francis  Atterbury,  Bishop  of  Rochester. 
During  his  confinement  within  its  walls,  he  was  subjected  to 
a  series  of  privations  and  oppressions  which  were  disgraceful 
to  the  ministry  which  authorized  them,  but  which  he  en- 
dured with  the  piety  of  a  Christian,  and  the  dignity  of  a 
philosopher. 

"  How  pleasing  Atterbury's  softer  hour; 
How  shines  his  soul  unconquered  in  the  Tower  !" 

Here  he  remained  a  prisoner  till  the  18th  of  June,  1723,  on 
which  day  he  was  conducted  on  board  the  "Aldborough" 
man-of-war,  where  he  bade  farewell  for  ever  to  his  native 
country.  The  Bishop  died  in  exile  in  Paris  on  the  loth  of 
February,  1731. 

The  fate  of  the  "  Rebel  Lords"  who  were  committed  to  the 
Tower  after  the  fatal  battle  of  Culloden,  is  too  familiar  to 
most  of  us  to  require  recapitulation  in  these  pages.  Here,  a 
few  months  after  his  committal,  died  the  old  Marquis  of 
Tullibardine — 

"  High-minded  Moray,  the  exiled,  the  dear  ;" 

\ 

*  \ 


EXECUTION  OF  THE  REBEL  LORDS.  203 

and  on  the  IStli  of  August,  1746,  were  beheaded  on  Tower 
Hill  Lord  Kilmarnock  and  the  intrepid  Lord  Balmerino. 

On  the  same  spot,  on  the  8th  of  December  following,  was 
decapitated  Charles  Radcliffe,  brother  of  the  unfortunate 
Earl  of  Derwentwater ;  and  lastly,  the  hoary  traitor,  Lord 
Lovat — after  a  hearty  meal,  and  with  a  jest  on  his  lips — laid 
down  his  life  on  the  scaffold  on  Tower  Hill,  on  the  7th  of 
April,  1747.  The  only  other  prisoner  of  note  in  the  reign 
of  George  the  Second,  was  Laurence,  fourth  Earl  Ferrers, 
who  was  hanged  at  Tyburn  on  the  5th  of  May,  1760,  for 
killing  his  steward,  Mr.  Johnson. 

As  we  approach  nearer  to  more  humane  and  civilized 
times,  the  annals  of  the  Tower  naturally  present  fewer  inci- 
dents of  stirring  or  romantic  interest.  Nevertheless,  during 
the  reigns  of  George  the  Third  and  Fourth  we  find  the 
Tower  containing  more  than  one  prisoner  whose  name  has 
been  rendered  familiar  to  us.  Among  these  may  be  enume- 
rated the  celebrated  John  Wilkes,  committed  in  1762  for  his 
libel  on  the  King  in  the  forty -fifth  number  of  the  "  North 
Briton  ;"  Lord  George  Gordon,  sent  to  the  Tower  in  1780  as 
the  principal  author  of  the  Protestant  riots ;  Horne  Tooke, 
and  his  seditious  associates,  in  1794  ;  Arthur  O'Connor,  and 
others,  for  high  treason,  in  1798 ;  Sir  Francis  Burdett,  for 
the  same  offence,  in  1810  ;  and  lastly,  here  were  confined,  in 
1820,  Arthur  Thistlewood  and  the  other  actors  in  the  noto- 
rious Cato  Street  conspiracy. 


TOWEK  HILL,  ALLHALLOWS  BAEKING, 
CLUTCHED  FBIABS,  EAST  SMITHFIELD, 
WAPPING. 

ILLUSTRIOUS  PERSONAGES  EXECUTED  ON  TOWER  HILL. — MELANCHOLY  DEATH 
OF  OTWAY. — ANECDOTE  OF  ROCHESTER. — PETER  THE  GREAT. — CHURCH  OF 
ALLHALLOWS  BARKING. — SEETHING  LANE. — THE  MINORIES. — MISERABLE 
DEATH  OF  LORD  COBHAM. — GOODMAN'S  FIELDS  THEATRE.— ST.  KATHERINE'& 
CHURCH. — RATCLIFFE  HIGHWAY. — MURDERS  OF  THE  MARRS  AND  WIL- 
LIAMSONS.— EXECUTION  DOCK.— JUDGE  JEFFERYS. — STEPNEY. 

WHO  is  there  whose  heart  is  so  dead  to  every  generous 
impulse  as  to  have  stood  without  feelings  of  deep 
emotion  upon  that  famous  Hill,  where  so  many  of 
the  gallant  and  the  powerful  have  perished  by  a  bloody  and 
untimely  death  ?  Here  fell  the  wise  and  witty  Sir  Thomas 
More;  the  great  Protector  Duke  of  Somerset;  and  the 
young  and  accomplished  Earl  of  Surrey  !  Here  died  the 
lofty  Strafford,  and  the  venerable  Laud;  the  unbending 
patriot,  Algernon  Sidney,  and  the  gay  and  graceful  Duke  of 
Monmouth  !  Who  is  there  who  has  not  sought  to  fix  in  his 
mind's  eye  the  identical  spot  where  they  fell, — the  exact  site 
of  the  fatal  stage  and  of  its  terrible  paraphernalia  ?  Who  is 
there  who  has  not  endeavoured  to  identify  the  old  edifice* 
from  which  the  gallant  Derwentwater  and  the  virtuous 
Kenmure  were  led  through  avenues  of  soldiers  to  the  block  I 
or  who  has  not  sought  for  the  house  "  adjoining  the  scaffold  " 

*  The  old  Transport  Office. 


TOWER  HILL.  205 


where  the  gentle  Kilmarnock  breathed  his  ]ast  sigh,  and 
where  the  intrepid  Balmerino  grasped  affectionately,  and 
for  the  last  time,  the  hand  of  the  friend  who  had  so  often 
dashed  witli  him  through  the  ranks  of  the  foe  on  the  field  of 
battle  ? 

Among  a  host  of  scarcely  less  illustrious  personages  who 
perished  by  the  hand  of  the  executioner  on  Tower  Hill,  may 
be  mentioned  Edward  Plantagenet,  Earl  of  Warwick,  son  of 
the  false  and  perjured  Clarence  ;  the  handsome  and  accom- 
plished adventurer,  Perkin  Warbeck ;  the  gallant  Sir  Wil- 
liam Stanley,  who  placed  the  crown  on  the  head  of  Henry 
the  Seventh  on  the  field  of  Bosworth ;  the  powerful  Edward 
Stafford,  Duke  of  Buckingham ;  Thomas  Cromwell,  Earl  of 
Essex,  the  successor  of  Wolsey  in  the  favour  of  Henry  the 
Eighth ;  George  Lord  Rochford,  brother  of  Anne  Boleyn ; 
Margaret  Countess  of  Salisbury,  mother  of  Cardinal  Pole ; 
the  ambitious  Lord  Seymour  of  Sudeley,  uncle  to  Edward 
the  Sixth,  and  brother  to  the  Protector  Somerset ;  the  tur- 
bulent John  Dudley,  Duke  of  Northumberland ;  Sir  Thomas 
Wyatt ;  Lord  Guildford  Dudley,  the  husband  of  Lady  Jane 
Grey;  her  father,  Henry  Grey,  Duke  of  Suffolk;  Thomas 
Howard,  Duke  of  Norfolk,  the  ambitious  lover  of  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots ;  the  crafty  visionary,  Sir  Henry  Vane  ; 
William  Howard,  Earl  of  Stafford,  condemned  on  the  false 
evidence  of  Titus  Gates ;  Sir  John  Fenwick ;  the  gallant 
Charles  Radcliffe,  brother  of  the  Earl  of  Derwentwater ;  and 
lastly,  the  infamous  Simon  Eraser,  Lord  Lovat. 

But  it  is  not  entirely  from  the  illustrious  blood  with  which 
it  has  been  drenched,  that  Tower  Hill  derives  its  interest. 
Here,  at  a  cutler's  stall,  the  assassin  Felton  purchased  the 
knife  which  cut  short  the  life  of  the  mighty  Buckingham ; 
and  here,  at  the  sign  of  "  the  Bull,"  died,  in  extreme 
poverty,  the  unfortunate  dramatic  poet,  Thomas  Otway ! 


206  TOWER  HILL. 


Dennis  tells  us  that  his  death  took  place  at  an  "  alehouse  ;" 
but,  according  to  Oldys,  in  his  MS.  notes  to  Langbaine,  it 
was  in  a  sponging-house.  "He  died,"  says  Dr.  Johnson,  "in 
a  manner  which  I  am  unwilling  to  mention.  Having  been 
compelled  by  his  necessities  to  contract  debts,  and  hunted, 
as  is  supposed,  by  the  terriers  of  the  law,  he  retired  to  a 
public-house  on  Tower  Hill,  where  he  is  said  to  have  died  of 
want ;  or,  as  it  is  related  by  one  of  his  biographers,  by  swal- 
lowing, after  a  long  fast,  a  piece  of  bread  which  charity  had 
supplied.  He  went  out,  as  is  reported,  almost  naked,  in  the 
rage  of  hunger,  and  finding  a  gentleman  in  a  neighbouring 
coffee-house,  asked  him  for  a  shilling.  The  gentleman  gave 
him  a  guinea ;  and  Otway  going  away  bought  a  roll,  and  was 
choked  with  the  first  mouthful."  Such,  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
three,  is  said  to  have  been  the  fate  of  "  poor  Tom  Otway,"  to 
whose  imaginative  genius  we  owe  "  The  Orphan/'  and 
"  Venice  Preserved." 

Tower  Hill  is  associated  with  a  name  scarcely  less  cele- 
brated than  that  of  Otway,  that  of  a  man  of  widely  dif- 
ferent character  and  fortunes.  We  allude  to  William  Penn, 
the  founder  and  legislator  of  Pennsylvania,  who  was  born 
here  on  the  14th  of  October,  1644. 

During  a  part  of  the  time  her  husband  was  a  prisoner  in 
the  Tower,  we  find  Lady  Ealeigh  fixing  her  residence  011 
Tower  Hill. 

To  the  north-west  of  Tower  Hill  is  Great  Tower  Street, 
where  the  witty  and  profligate  Earl  of  Rochester  practised 
on  a  raised  stage  his  memorable  pranks  as  an  Italian  phy- 
sician and  fortune-teller.  His  lodgings  were  at  a  gold- 
smith's, next  door  to  the  "Black  Swan;"  and  here  he  was  to 
£e  seen  and  consulted  between  the  hours  of  three  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  and  eight  at  night.  Burnet  informs  us  that 
his  Disguise  was  admirable,  and  that  he  practised  physic 


ORE  A  T  TO  WER  STREET.  207 

"  not  without  success,"  for  some  weeks.  His  fame,  which  at 
first  was  merely  local,  at  last  reached  the  ears  of  the  Court. 
Rochester  was  of  course  equally  well  acquainted  with  the 
scandal  of  the  day  as  with  the  persons  and  characters  of 
those  who  figured  in  it ;  and  accordingly,  having  recognised 
the  female  attendants  of  some  of  the  ladies  of  the  Court,  he 
sent  them  back  to  Whitehall  sufficiently  amazed  at  his. 
supernatural  powers  to  excite  the  curiosity  of  their  mis- 
tresses. In  a  masquerading,  and  still  more  in  a  superstitious 
age,  it  was  not  unnatural  that  many  a  fair  lady,  under  the 
convenient  guise  of  the  then  fashionable  mask,  should  have 
sought  to  dive  into  futurity  by  means  of  the  Italian  fortune- 
teller ;  or  that  she  should  have  been  startled  by  the  dis- 
agreeable truths  which  he  communicated  to  her.* 

On  the  south  side  of  Great  Tower  Street  may  be  seen 
the  Czar's  Head  public-house,  so  named  from  a  tavern 
which  was  the  frequent  resort  of  Peter  the  Great;  who,  after 
his  favourite  boating  expeditions  on  the  river,  used  to  pass 
his  evenings  here,  imbibing  almost  incredible  draughts  of 
brandy  and  beer.^f  His  prowess  in  drinking  appears  to  have 
been  a  matter  of  astonishment  to  all  who  approached  him ; 
indeed,  we  are  assured  that  at  their  social  meetings  the  usual 
drink  of  the  Czar  and  of  his  cicerone,  the  Marquis  of  Car- 
marthen, was  "  hot  pepper  and  brandy."  On  one  particular 
day  he  is  said  to  have  drunk  no  less  than  a  pint  of  brandy, 
a  bottle  of  sherry,  and  eight  bottles  of  sack,  and  yet  he  was 
able  to  attend  the  theatre  in  the  evening. 

In  Little  Tower  Street,  Thomson  was  residing  in  1726  ; 
and  here  he  composed  his -"Summer,"  published  in  1728. 

*  Rochester's  address  to  the  public,  in  which  he  signs  himself  "Alexander 
Bendo, "  and  professes  to  cure  all  disorders,  to  restore  beauty,  and  a  hundred 
other  absurdities,  will  be  found  in  the  different  editions  of  his  works. 

t  The  house  has  been  rebuilt  since  the  time  of  Peter  the  Great. 


208  ALLE ALLOWS  BARKING. 

West  of  Tower  Hill  is  the  ancient  and  interesting  church 
of  Allhallows  Barking.  Hither  were  conveyed  the  headless 
remains  of  more  than  one  illustrious  person  after  their  de- 
capitation on  the  neighbouring  Hill.  Here  rested  the  body 
of  the  Earl  of  Surrey  till  its  removal,  in  1614,  to  Framling- 
ham,  in  Suffolk ;  and  here  also  rested  the  remains  of  the  pious 
and  ill-fated  John  Fisher,  Bishop  of  Rochester,  till  they  were 
transferred  to  the  Tower  Chapel,  to  mingle  with  the  dust  of 
his  illustrious  friend,  Sir  Thomas  More.  In  the  chancel  was 
interred  Archbishop  Laud,  who  was  beheaded  in  1645,  and 
whose  remains  continued  here  till  the  month  of  July,  1663, 
when  they  were  removed  to  St.  John's  College,  Oxford,  of 
which  society  he  had  been  president.  In  the  same  grave 
which  had  been  tenanted  by  Laud,  was  afterwards  buried 
the  learned  and  pious  Dr.  John  Kettlewell,  who,  as  his 
monument  at  the  east  end  of  the  church  informs  us, — "Ani- 
mam  Deo  reddidit;  Ap.  12,  1695.  JEtat.  42. 

The  church  of  Allhallows  Barking  derives  its  name  from 
"  all  Hallows,"  or  all  Saints,  and  from  the  manor  of  Barking, 
in  Essex ;  the  vicarage  having  originally  belonged  to  the 
abbess  and  convent  of  that  place.  The  date  of  its  foundation 
is  not  known.  We  learn,  however,  from  Stow,  that  a  chapel 
was  originally  founded  on  the  spot  by  Richard  Coeur  de 
Lion  ;  and  it  has  been  said  that  the  heart  of  that  chivalrous 
monarch  was  long  preserved  within  its  walls,  though,  according 
to  other  accounts,  he  himself  bequeathed  his  heart  to  the 
citizens  of  Rouen,  in  gratitude  for  their  loyalty  and  attach- 
ment. But,  whatever  may  have  been  the  motive,  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  our  early  sovereigns  took  an  especial  inte- 
rest in  the  prosperity  of  this  religious  foundation,  and  that 
it  was  munificently  endowed  by  successive  princes.  At  this 
spot  the  warlike  Edward  the  First  frequently  came  to  offer 
up  his  devotions.  When  he  was  Prince  of  Wales,  it  is  said 


SEETHING  LANE.  209 

that  he  had  been  assured  by  a  vision  that  he  should  be  vic- 
torious over  all  nations,  and  more  especially  over  Scotland 
and  Wales,  on  condition  that  he  should  erect  an  image  to  the 
Holy  Virgin,  in  King  Richard's  Chapel,  and  should  pay  his 
adorations  to  her  there  five  times  in  each  year.  Edward 
religiously  followed  the  injunctions  of  the  vision,  and  when, 
subsequently,  one  military  success  followed  another,  "  our 
Lady  of  Barking"  grew  into  such  repute,  that  pilgrims 
flowed  to  her  shrine  with  rich  presents  from  all  parts  of 
England.  King  Edward  the  Fourth  subsequently  endowed 
the  chapel  with  a  brotherhood,  consisting  of  a  master  and 
brethren,  under  the  name  of  the  King's  Chapel,  or  Capella 
Beatce  Marios  de  Barking;  and  lastly,  King  Richard  the 
Third  rebuilt  the  Chapel  and  founded  there  a  college,  con- 
sisting of  a  dean  and  six  canons.  This  college  was  sup- 
pressed in  1548.  Stow  informs  us  that  in  the  successive 
reigns  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  Queen  Mary,  and  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, the  ground  on  which  it  stood  was  used  as  a  garden. 
.There  is  no  doubt,  however,  that  a  considerable  part  of  the 
ancient  structure  was  allowed  to  remain,  and  that  it  is  in- 
corporated with  the  present  church.  The  general  aspect, 
indeed,  is  of  the  Tudor  age,  but  the  pillars  on  each  side  of 
the  nave,  towards  the  western  extremity,  are  evidently 
Norman,  and  these,  as  well  as  its  ancient  monuments  and 
funeral  brasses — the  latter  among  the  best  in  the  metropolis 
—prove  that  its  construction  is  of  no  recent  period.  We 
learn  from  Pepys  that  the  church  had  a  very  narrow  escape 
during  the  great  fire,  in  1666 ;  the  dial  and  porch  having 
been  both  burnt. 

At  the  west  end  of  the  church  is  Seething  Lane,  anciently 
called  Sidon  Lane.  Here  formerly  stood  a  spacious  man- 
sion, the  residence  of  Sir  John  Allen,  who  was  a  Privy 
Councillor  and  Lord  Mayor  of  London  in  the  reign  of 

VOL.  II.  14 


210  CRUTCHED  FRIARS. 

Henry  the  Eighth.  It  was  afterwards  inhabited  by  the- 
celebrated  courtier  and  statesman,  Sir  Francis  Walsingham, 
who  died  here  on  the  6th  of  April,  1590,  and  from  him  de- 
scended to  his  grandson,  Eobert  Devereux,  Earl  of  Essex, 
the  Parliamentary  general  during  the  Civil  troubles.  Pepys 
was  for  many  years  a  resident  in  Seething  Lane. 

Seething  Lane  leads  us  into  Crutched  Friars,  so  called  from 
the  Crossed  Friars,  or  Fratres  Sanctce  Crucis,  who  had  a 
house  here,  founded  by  two  citizens  of  London,  Ralph  Hosier 
and  William  Sabernes,  about  the  year  1298.  The  brothers 
of  this  Order  originally  carried  an  iron  cross  in  their  hands, 
and  wore  a  garment  distinguished  by  a  red  cross ;  but  the 
former  was  afterwards  exchanged  for  one  of  silver,  and  the 
colour  of  the  cross  on  the  garment  altered  to  blue.  At  the 
dissolution  of  the  monasteries,  the  house  of  the  Crossed 
Friars  was  granted  by  Henry  the  Eighth  to  the  graceful 
poet,  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt ;  and  at  a  subsequent  period  came 
into  the  possession  of  John  de  Lumley,  fifth  Baron  Lumley, 
a  distinguished  warrior  in  the  sixteenth  century.  In  1557, 
we  find  the  Friars  Hall  converted  into  an  establishment  for 
manufacturing  drinking-glasses,  the  first  of  the  kind  known 
in  England,  In  Crutched  Friars  resided,  at  the  close  of 
his  life,  William  Turner,  the  eminent  naturalist  of  the  16th 
century.  He  probably  died  here,  for  his  remains  were  in- 
terred in  the  chancel  of  the  neighbouring  church  of  St. 
Olave's,  Hart  Street. 

The  old  Navy  Office,  of  which  we  find  so  many  interest- 
ing notices  in  Pepys's  Diary,  stood  on  the  site  of  the  old 
chapel  and  college  attached  to  Allhallows  Church,  Barking. 
There  was  one  entrance  into  Seething  Lane ;  but  the  "  chief 
gate  for  entrance  "  was  in  Crutched  Friars.  Here  it  was,  as 
we  learn  from  Anthony  Wood,  that  the  well-known  admiral 
and  poet,  Sir  John  Mennes,  breathed  his  last. 


MARK  LANE.  211 


When  the  kings  of  England  held  their  court  in  the  Tower, 
it  was  natural  that  the  presence  of  royalty  should  attract 
many  of  the  nobility  to  reside  in  the  then  fashionable 
vicinity  of  the  royal  fortress.  Accordingly,  in  the  reign  of 
Edward  the  Sixth,  we  find  Henry  Earl  of  Arundel  residing 
in  Mark  Lane,  in  a  magnificent  house  formerly  belonging  to 
Sir  William  Sharrington;  while,  close  to  the  Crutched 
Friars,  stood  the  mansion  of  the  Percys,  Earls  of  Northum- 
berland. Here  resided  Henry  the  second  Earl,  who  fought 
in  the  battle  of  Agincourt  and  at  Chevy  Chase,  and  who 
afterwards  fell  at  the  battle  of  St.  Albans ;  and  here  also 
lived  his  son,  Henry  the  third  Earl,  who  was  killed  leading 
the  vanguard  at  the  battle  of  Towton : — 

" Northumberland  ;  a  braver  man 


Ne'er  spurred  his  courser  to  the  trumpet's  sound." 

SHAKSPEAKE. 

Stow  informs  us  that,  on  being  deserted  by  the  Percys,  the 
garden  was  converted  into  bowling-alleys,  and  other  parts 
into  dicing-houses.  In  Mark,  or  Mart  Lane,  as  it  was  an- 
ciently called,  Milton's  friend,  Cyriac  Skinner,  carried  on  the 
occupation  of  a  merchant.* 

"  Cyriac,  whose  grandsire  on  the  royal  bench 
Of  British  Themis  with  no  mean  applause 
Pronounced,  and  in  his  volumes  taught  our  laws." 

To  the  east  of  Mark  Lane  and  Crutched  Friars  is  the 
street  called  the  Minories,  which  takes  its  name  from  the 
Minoresses,  or  Nuns  of  the  Order  of  St.  Clair,  for  whose 
maintenance  Edmond  Earl  of  Lancaster  founded  a  convent 
here  in  1293.  In  1539  it  was  surrendered  to  Henry  the 
Eighth  by  Dame  Elizabeth  Savage,  its  last  abbess.  Some  time 
after  its  suppression  it  became  the  residence  of  the  Bishops 
of  Bath  and  Wells,  and  was  afterwards  granted  by  Edward 

*  "  Fasti  Oxonienses,"  266. 

14—2 


212  MINORIES. 


the  Sixth  to  Henry  Grey,  Duke  of  Suffolk,  who  was  beheaded 
on  Tower  Hill,  in  1554,  for  his  attempt  to  raise  his  daughter, 
Lady  Jane  Grey,  to  the  throne.  On  the  attainder  of  the 
Duke  it  reverted  to  the  Crown,  and  shortly  after  the  Resto- 
ration was  granted  by  Charles  the  Second  to  Colonel  Wil- 
liam Legge,  so  celebrated  for  his  loyalty  and  gallantry  during 
the  civil  wars.  At  the  battle  of  Worcester  he  was  wounded 
and  taken  prisoner,  and  would  have  been  executed  had  not 
his  wife  enabled  him  to  effect  his  escape  from  Coventry  gaol 
in  her  own  clothes.  He  died  here  in  1672,  and  was  followed 
to  the  grave  in  the  adjoining  Trinity  Church,  Minories,  by 
Prince  Rupert,  the  Dukes  of  Buckingham,  Richmond,  Mon- 
mouth,  Newcastle,  and  Ormond,  and  many  others  of  the 
principal  nobility.  Since  that  time  his  descendants,  the 
Earls  of  Dartmouth,  have  continued  to  make  Trinity  Church 
their  family  burial-place.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned 
George,  first  Baron  Dartmouth,  whose  name  figures  so  con- 
spicuously in  the  annals  of  the  Revolution  of  1688,  and  who 
died  of  apoplexy  in  the  Tower  in  1691.  Before  the  high 
altar  of  the  old  church  in  the  Minories  was  buried  the  priest 
who  married  Edward  the  Fourth  to  Elizabeth  Woodville.* 
The  present  church  was  rebuilt  in  1706. 

Stow  informs  us  that  on  a  portion  of  the  property,  for- 
merly belonging  to  the  nuns,  arose  "  divers  fair  and  large 
storehouses  for  armour  and  habiliments  of  war,  with  divers 
workhouses  serving  to  the  same  purpose."  In  the  time  of 
Dryden  the  Minories  was  still  colonized  by  gunsmiths  ;  and 
Congreve  writes, — 

"  The  Mulcibers,  who  in  the  Minories  sweat, 
And  massive  bars  on  stubborn  anvils  beat, 
Deformed  themselves,  yet  forge  those  stays  of  steel 
Which  arm  Aurelia  with  a  shape  to  kill." 


*  Strickland's  "Queens  of  England,"  vol  ii.,  p.  325. 


GOODMAN'S  FIELDS.  213 

It  was  in  a  wretched  hovel  in  the  Minories  that  Henry- 
Brooke,  Lord  Cobham — once  the  possessor  of  a  princely  for- 
tune, and  the  last  descendant  of  an  illustrious  race — closed 
his  life  in  poverty  and  filth.  Having  been  sentenced  to 
death  with  Lord  Grey  of  Wilton,  for  their  participation  in 
the  alleged  conspiracy  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  they  were  led 
to  the  scaffold  without  any  apparent  prospect  of  a  reprieve. 
Almost  at  the  moment,  however,  when  they  were  about  to 
lay  their  heads  upon  the  block,  it  was  intimated  to  them 
that  their  lives  had  been  spared  ;  when  such  was  the  effect 
produced  on  their  nervous  system,  that,  according  to  Sir 
Dudley  Carleton,  "  they  looked  strange  on  one  another,  like 
men  beheaded  and  met  again  in  the  other  world."  Lord 
Grey  died  in  prison ;  but  after  a  time  Lord  Cobham  obtained 
his  release,  to  perish  in  the  miserable  manner  we  have  men- 
tioned. His  wife,  Lady  Cobham,  though  living  herself  in 
affluence,  is  said  to  have  refused  him  the  means  of  procuring 
a  crust  of  bread  and  a  clean  shirt.  Osborne  informs  us,  on 
the  authority  of  William  Earl  of  Pembroke,  that  Lord  Cob- 
ham  died,  "  rather  of  hunger  than  any  more  natural  disease," 
in  a  room  ascended  by  a  ladder,  at  the  house  of  a  poor  woman 
in  the  Minories,  who  had  formerly  been  his  laundress. 

Passing  to  the  eastward  from  the  Minories  through  Hay- 
don  Square,  we  find  ourselves  in  Goodman's  Fields — the  site 
of  a  Roman  burial-place — which  derives  its  name  from  one 
Goodman,  who  had  a  farm  here  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth. Stow,  who  was  born  as  late  as  1525,  remembered 
this  now  densely  populated  district  while  it  was  still  open 
country,  and  when  some  of  the  principal  nobility  had  villas 
in  the  neighbourhood.  Speaking  of  the  nunnery  in  the 
Minories,  he  says :  "  On  the  south  side  thereof  was  sometime 
a  farm  belonging  to  the  said  nunnery,  at  the  which  farm  I 
myself,  in  my  youth,  have  fetched  many  a  halfpennyworth 


214  DAVID  GARRICK. 

of  milk,  and  never  had  less  than  three  ale-pints  for  a  half- 
penny in  the  summer,  nor  less  than  one  ale-quart  for  a  half- 
penny in  the  winter  ;  always  hot  from  the  kine  as  the  same 
was  milked  and  strained.  One  Trolop,  and  afterwards  Good- 
man, were  the  farmers  there,  and  had  thirty  or  forty  kine 
to  the  pail." 

To  the  lovers  of  the  stage,  Goodman's  Fields  will  always 
be  interesting  as  having  been  the  site  of  the  celebrated 
Goodman's  Fields  Theatre.  It  was  founded  in  1729,  by  one 
Thomas  Odell,  in  spite  of  declamations  from  the  pulpit  and 
the  opposition  of  many  grave  and  respectable  citizens,  who 
dreaded  that  their  daughters  and  servants  might  be  con- 
taminated by  its  close  vicinity.  Neither  would  they  seem 
to  have  been  very  wrong  in  their  apprehensions,  inasmuch 
as  Sir  John  Hawkins  informs  us  that  the  new  theatre  was 
soon  surrounded  by  a  "  halo  of  brothels."*  The  clamour  of 
the  citizens  for  a  time  closed  the  theatre  in  Goodman's 
Fields,  but  on  the  20th  of  October,  1732,  it  was  re-opened 
by  one  Henry  GifFard,  an  actor.  It  was  here,  on  the  19th 
of  October,  1741,  that  the  great  actor,  David  Garrick — 
having  been  previously  slighted  by  the  managers  of  Drury 
Lane  and  Covent  Garden — made  his  first  appearance  on  the 
stage  in  the  character  of  Richard  the  Third.  Such  was  his 
success,  and  with  such  rapidity  did  his  fame  spread,  that, 
notwithstanding  the  distance  of  Goodman's  Fields  from  the 
fashionable  part  of  London,  the  long  space  between  Temple 
Bar  and  Goodman's  Fields  is  said  to  have  been  nightly 
blocked  up  by  the  carriages  of  the  "  nobility  and  gentry." 
"  All  the  run,"  writes  Horace  Walpole  to  Sir  Horace  Mann, 
on  the  26th  of  May,  1742,  "is  now  after  Garrick,  a  wine- 
merchant,  who  is  turned  player,  at  Goodman's  Fields.  He 
plays  all  parts,  and  is  a  very  good  mimic.  His  acting  I 
*  Life  of  Dr.  Johnson. 


ROSEMARY  LANE.  215 


have  seen,  and  may  say  to  you,  who  will  not  say  it  again 
here,  I  see  nothing  wonderful  in  it ;  but  it  is  heresy  to  say 
so :  the  Duke  of  Argyll  says  he  is  superior  to  Betterton." 
Gray,  the  poet,  at  the  dawn  of  Garrick's  memorable  career, 
•entertained  the  same  disparaging  opinion  of  his  genius.  In 
a,  letter  to  Shute  he  writes — "  Did  I  tell  you  about  Mr. 
•Garrick,  that  the  town  are  horn-mad  after ;  there  are  a  dozen 
dukes  of  a  night  at  Goodman's  Fields  sometimes ;  and  yet  I 
•anr  stiff  in  the  opposition."  Garrick  remained  at  Goodman's 
Fields  but  one  season,  when  he  removed  to  Drury  Lane,  of 
which  theatre  he  became  joint  patentee  with  Lacy  in  1747. 
The  theatre  in  Goodman's  Fields  appears  to  have  been  pulled 
•down  shortly  after  Garrick  quitted  it.  Another  theatre  sub- 
sequently rose  on  its  site,  which  was  [destroyed  by  fire  in 
June,  1802. 

In  Rosemary  Lane,  now  Royal  Mint  Street,  close  to  Good- 
man's Fields,  died  Richard  Brandon,  the  public  executioner 
who  is  said  to  have  beheaded  Charles  the  First.  The  follow- 
ing entry  appears  in  the  burial  register  of  St.  Mary's,  White- 
chapel  : — "  1G49,  June  21st.  Rich.  Brandon,  a  man  out  of 
Rosemary  Lane."  To  which  is  added, — "  This  R.  Brandon 
is  supposed  to  have  cut  off  the  head  of  Charles  the  First."* 
Elsewhere  we  find — "  He  (Brandon)  likewise  confessed  that 
he  had  thirty  pounds  for  his  pains,  all  paid  him  in  half- 
crowns  within  an  hour  after  the  blow  was  given ;  and  that 
he  had  an  orange  stuck  full  of  cloves,  and  a  hankercher,  out 
of  the  King's  pocket,  so  soon  as  he  was  carried  off  from  the 
scaffold,  for  which  orange  he  was  proffered  twenty  shillings 
by  a  gentleman  in  Whitehall,  but  refused  the  same,  and 
afterwards  sold  it  for  ten  shillings  in  Rosemary  Lane."^ 

*  Cunningham's  "Handbook  for  London,"  Art.  Rosemary  Lane, 
t  "  The  Confession  of  Richard  Brandon,  the  Hangman,"  4to,  1649.     See 
.also  Ellis's  Original  Letters,  second  series,  vol.  iii.,  p.  342,  and  Wraxall's 


216  ST.  CATHERINE'S  CHURCH. 

Crossing  Rosemary  Lane,  we  pass  into  East  Smithfield. 
Here  it  was  that  Edmund  Spenser,  the  poet,  first  saw  the 
light.  Towards  the  east,  formerly  stood  a  Cistercian  Abbey, 
founded  by  Edward  the  Third,  called  the  Abbey  of  the 
Graces,  subject  to  the  monastery  of  Beaulieu.  To  the  south 
stood,  till  within  a  few  years,  the  famous  hospital  and  colle- 
giate church  of  St.  Katherine,  founded  in  1148  by  Matilda 
of  Boulogne,  wife  of  King  Stephen,  for  the  repose  of  the  soul 
of  her  son  Baldwin  and  her  daughter  Matilda.  It  was  after- 
wards refounded  by  Eleanor  of  Castile,  widow  of  Edward 
the  First,  with  the  establishment  of  a  master,  three  brethren, 
three  sisters,  ten  poor  women,  and  six  poor  clerks.  Queen 
Philippa,  wife  of  Edward  the  Third,  was  another  benefac- 
tress of  the  Hospital  of  St.  Katherine 's  ;  and  it  is  remarka- 
ble, that,  notwithstanding  the  many  revolutions  which  have 
taken  place  in  religion  and  politics,  the  patronage  for  more 
than  seven  hundred  years  has  continued  to  be  vested  in  the- 
Queens  of  England.  The  late  Queen  Adelaide,  by  whom 
the  appointment  of  Master  was  last  conferred,  was  the 
thirty-first  patroness. 

In  the  old  church  of  St.  Katherine  were  some  ancient  and 
interesting  monuments.  Under  a  stately  tomb  rested  John 
Holland,  Duke  of  Exeter,  so  distinguished  for  his  gallantry 
in  the  French  wars  in  the  reigns  of  Henry  the  Fifth  and 
Sixth.  He  died  on  the  5th  of  August,  1447.  By  his  side 
lay  buried  his  two  wives,  Anne,  daughter  of  Edmund,  fifth 
Earl  of  Stafford,  and  Lady  Anne  Montacute,  daughter  of 
John  Earl  of  Salisbury.  Here  also  lay  buried  Lady  Con- 
stance, the  Duke's  sister,  who  married,  first,  Thomas  Lord 


Memoirs,  vol.  ii.,  p.  188.  The  unenviable  distinction  of  having  beheaded 
King  Charles  has  been  attributed  to  more  than  one  individual,  but,  from 
such  evidence  as  we  have  been  able  to  collect,  we  have  little  doubt  that 
Brandon  was  the  person. 


RA  TCLIFFE  HIGHWA  Y.  217" 

Mowbray — beheaded  at  York,  in  1405,  for  conspiring  against 
Henry  the  Fourth, — and  secondly,  Sir  John  Grey  (eldest  son 
of  Lord  Grey  de  Kuthyn),  who  was  a  Knight  of  the  Garter, 
and  fought  on  the  field  of  Agincourt.  The  old  church  of  St. 
Katherine,  together  with  no  fewer  than  twelve  hundred  and 
fifty  houses,  was  taken  down  in  1826,  in  order  to  make  room 
for  the  present  St.  Katherine's  Docks.  The  hospital  and 
Master's  residence  have  been  rebuilt  in  the  Kegent's  Park, 
to  the  chapel  of  which  has  been  transferred  the  stately 
monument  of  the  Duke  of  Exeter,  together  with  an  elabo- 
rately carved  old  pulpit. 

From  East  Smithfield  we  pass  into  the  ancient  village  of 
Ratcliffe  Highway,  described  by  Camden,  in  his  day  as 
being  "  a  little  town  wherein  lived  many  sailors,"  and  de- 
riving its  name  from  a  red  cliff  which  was  formerly  visible 
here.  "  From  hence,"  says  Pennant,  "  the  gallant  Sir 
Hugh  Willoughby  took  his  departure,  id.  1553,  on  his 
fatal  voyage  for  discovering  the  north-east  passage  to 
China.  He  sailed  with  great  pomp  by  Greenwich,  where 
the  Court  then  lay.  Mutual  honours  were  paid  on  both 
sides.  The  council  and  courtiers  appeared  at  the  win- 
dows, and  the  people  covered  the  shores.  The  young  king, 
Edward  the  Sixth,  alone  lost  the  noble  and  novel  sight, 
for  he  then  lay  on  his  death-bed,  so  that  the  principal 
object  of  the  parade  was  disappointed."  Pennant  omits  to 
mention  that  the  gallant  adventurer  was  frozen  to  death  in 
the  northern  seas. 

In  Ratcliffe  Highway  occurred,  in  1811,  those  fearful 
massacres  of  the  Marr  and  Williamson  families,  which,  at 
the  time,  spread  a  consternation  throughout  the  metropolis, 
never  surpassed  perhaps  by  any  similar  atrocities.  Terror 
was  written  on  every  face.  Every  householder  provided 
himself  with  a  blunderbuss;  and  one  shopkeeper  alone  is 


218  It  A  TCLIFFE  HIGHWA  Y. 

said  to  have  sold  no  fewer  than  three  hundred  watchmen's 
rattles  in  ten  hours.  The  first  of  these  tragedies  took  place 
on  the  7th  of  December,  1811,  at  No.  29,  Ratcliffe  Highway, 
a  house  occupied  by  an  opulent  laceman  of  the  name  of 
Marr.  His  family  consisted  of  Marr  himself,  his  wife,  their 
infant  child,  a  shop-boy,  and  a  female  servant.  About 
twelve  o'clock  at  night,  the  latter  was  sent  out  to  purchase 
some  supper,  and  on  her  return  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
repeatedly  rang  the  bell,  but  to  no  purpose,  for  admittance. 
Subsequently  the  house  was  broken  open,  when,  to  the 
horror  of  those  who  entered  it,  they  discovered  that  the 
whole  of  the  inmates,  including  even  the  infant  in  its 
cradle,  had  been  barbarously  murdered.  The  second  tragedy 
took  place  twelve  days  afterwards,  on  the  19th  of  December, 
about  the  same  hour  of  the  night,  at  the  King's  Arms  pub- 
lic-house in  Old  Gravel  Lane,  Ratcliffe  Highway.  The 
victims  on  this  occasion  were  the  landlord  Williamson,  his 
wife,  and  a  female  servant.  The  perpetrator,  or  perpetra- 
tors, of  these  horrors,  were  never  discovered.  Suspicion 
attached  itself  to  one  Williams,  and  the  world  anxiously 
anticipated  the  result  of  his  trial.  He  found  means,  how- 
ever, to  hang  himself  in  prison,  and  his  secret,  if  he  had  any 
to  divulge,  died  with  him. 

Ratcliffe  Highway,  now  St.  George  Street,  which  Stow  de- 
scribes as,  in  his  memory,  a  large  highway  "  with  fair  elms 
on  both  the  sides,"  leads  us  into  what  was  once  the  hamlet 
of  Shadwell,  extending  to  the  banks  of  the  Thames.  It  is 
said  to  have  derived  its  name  from  a  fine  spring  (probably 
called  shady  well),  near  the  south  wall  of  the  churchyard. 
In  the  time  of  Charles  the  Second,  this  now  populous  dis- 
trict was  still  open  country,  and  was  consequently  fixed 
upon  as  one  of  the  principal  burial-places  for  the  victims 
of  the  great  plague  in  1665.  The  frightful  plague-pit  was 


WAPPING.  219 


situated  where  the  modern  church  of  St.  Paul's,  Shadwell, 
now  stands.* 

Wapping,   also   formerly  a  hamlet,   stretches   along  the 
river's  side  from  Lower  Shadwell  to  St.  Katherine's.     As 
late  as  the  year  1629,  we  find  King  Charles  the  First,  who 
had  been  hunting  at  Wanstead,  in  Essex,  killing  a  stag  in 
Nightingale  Lane,  Wapping.     The  name  and  site  are  still 
preserved   in   Nightingale   Lane,   being    the    street  which 
divides    the   London  Docks   from   St.  Katherine's  Docks. 
The   spot  where  the  church   of  St.   John,   "Wapping,  now 
stands,  was  another  of  the    principal  burial-places  in  the 
great   plague.-f-      Here  was  the  famous  Execution  Dock, 
where  pirates,  and  others,  condemned  for  offences  on  the 
high  seas,  were  formerly  executed.     They  were  hanged  on 
a   temporary  gibbet  at  low  water-mark,  the  body  being 
allowed  to  remain  there  till  it  had  been  three  times  over- 
flowed by  the  tide.     Maitland  mentions  a  remarkable  anec- 
dote of  one  of  these  piratical  criminals  having  been  rescued 
from  death  at  the  eleventh  hour.     This  was  one  James  Bu- 
chanan, who  was  condemned  to  death  in  December,  1738, 
for  the  murder  of  the  fourth  mate  of  the  "  Royal  Guardian  " 
Indiaman,  in  the  Canton  river.     He  was  brought  from  New- 
gate to  Execution  Dock,  in  pursuance  of  his  sentence,  and 
had  actually  been  suspended  five  minutes,  when  he  was  cut 
down  by  a  gang  of  sailors,  who  conveyed  him  to  their  ves- 
sel, and  earned  him  in  triumph  down  the  river.     He  after- 
wards, it  is  said,  succeeded  in  escaping  in  safety  to  France. 

It  was  in  a  mean  public-house  hi  Wapping,  called  the 
Red  Cow,  in  Anchor  and  Hope  Alley,  that  the  inhuman 
Judge  Jeffreys  was  discovered  looking  out  of  a  window  in 
a  sailor's  dress.  It  was  not  without  difficulty  that  the  crowd 

*  Defoe's  "  History  of  the  Plague,"  p.  287. 
t  Ibid. 


220  STEPNEY. 


which  soon  assembled  was  prevented  from  tearing  him  to 
pieces.  He  was  conducted  to  the  Tower,  where,  shortly 
afterwards,  he  died,  partly  from  the  effect  produced  on  his 
constitution  by  strong  liquors,  and  partly  from  the  injuries 
which  he  had  received  from  the  infuriated  mob. 

To  the  north-east  of  Wappiiig  is  the  crowded  district 
of  Stepney,  which  derives  its  name  from  the  Saxon  manor 
of  Stebenhythe,  or  Stebunhethe.  Stepney  was  a  village,  and 
had  its  church,  as  far  back  as  the  days  of  the  Saxons,  and 
in  the  time  of  Elizabeth  was  the  most  eastern  part  of  London. 
In  the  reign  of  William  the  Conqueror,  and  even  previous  to- 
that  period,  Stepney  church  was  known  as  Ecclesia,  omnium 
Sanctorum,  or  All  Saints,  but  was  subsequently  dedicated  to 
St.  Dunstan,  whose  name  it  at  present  bears.  The  church 
itself  possesses  but  little  interest.  Here,  however,  were 
buried  Sir  Thomas  Spert,  founder  of  the  Trinity  House  and 
Comptroller  of  the  Navy  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth,* 
— the  learned  Richard  Pace,  the  friend  of  Erasmus,  who  died 
Vicar  of  Stepney  in  1532,— the  father  of  John  Strype,  the 
historian, — and  the  father  of  John  Entick,  the  lexicographer, 
who  kept  a  school  in  the  neighbourhood.  Here  also  is  to  be 
traced  the  curious  epitaph  to  which  the  "  Spectator  "  has 
given  celebrity : — 

"  Here  Thomas  Sapper  lyes  interred.     Ah,  why  ? 
Born  in  New  England,  did  in  London  dye  j 
Was  the  third  son  of  eight,  begot  upon 
His  mother  Martha  by  his  father  John. 
Much  f  avo.ur'd  by  his  Prince  he  'gan  to  be, 
But  nipt  by  Death  at  th'  age  of  Twenty-three. 
Fatal  to  him  was  that  we  small-pox  name, 
By  which  his  mother  and  two  brethren  came 


*  He  died  on  the  8th  September,  1541,  and  the  monument  to  his  memory 
was  erected  by  the  master  and  elder  brethren  of  the  Trinity  House  in  1622,, 
eighty-one  years  after  his  death. 


KING  JOHNS  P ALACK  221 

Also  to  breathe  their  last  nine  years  before, 
And  now  have  left  their  father  to  deplore 
The  loss  of  all  his  children,  with  his  wife, 
Who  was  the  joy  and  comfort  of  his  life. 

Deceased,  June  18,  1687." 

Other  monumental  inscriptions  may  be  found  in  St. 
Dunstan's  Church,  scarcely  less  curious  than  the  foregoing. 

In  modern  maps  of  London  may  still  be  traced  a  small 
site  designated  as  "King  John's  Palace."  According  to 
tradition,  King  John  had  a  palace  here,  and  as  there  is  no 
doubt  that  Edward  the  First  held  a  parliament  at  Stepney  in 
1292,  it  is  not  impossible  that  his  predecessors  may  have 
erected  a  suburban  palace  in  this  vicinity.  Here  also  stood 
Worcester  House,  which,  in  the  reigns  of  Charles  the  First 
and  Second,  was  successively  the  residence  of  Henry  and 
Edward,  first  and  second  Marquises  of  Worcester,  alike  dis- 
tinguished for  their  chivalrous  attachment  to  Charles  the 
First.  Worcester  House,  it  may  be  remarked,  formed  but  a 
small  part  of  what  had  been  formerly  distinguished  as  "  the 
great  place,"  namely,  the  princely  palace  of  Sir  Henry  Colet, 
Lord  Mayor  of  London. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  parish  of  Stepney  appear  to  have 
suffered  frightfully  during  the  raging  of  the  great  plague  in 
1665.  "  Stepney  parish,"  says  Defoe,  "  had  a  piece  of  ground 
taken  in  to  bury  their  dead,  close  to  the  churchyard,  and 
which,  for  that  very  reason,  was  left  open,  and  is  since,  I 
suppose,  taken  into  the  same  churchyard."  We  learn  from 
the  same  authority,  that  within  one  year  Stepney  had  no 
fewer  than  one  hundred  and  sixteen  sextons,  grave-diggers, 
and  their  assistants ;  the  latter  consisting  of  bearers,  bell- 
men, and  the  drivers  of  the  carts  which  were  employed  in 
removing  the  dead. 


BILLINGSGATE,  COLE  HARBOUR,  STEEL- 
YARD, THE  VINTRY,  &c. 

ETYMOLOGY  OF  BILLINGSGATE.  —  PRINCIPAL  PORTS  OF  LONDON.  —  FISH- 
MONGERS5 COMPANY. — SIR  WILLIAM  WALWORTH. — SEMINARY  FOR  PICK- 
POCKETS.— GREAT  FIRE  OF  LONDON. — HUBERT'S  CONFESSION.  —REMARK- 
ABLE EDIFICES  IN  AND  NEAR  THAMES  STREET. 

LET  us  return  to  Tower  Hill,  and  skirting  Thames 
Street  from  Billingsgate  to  Blackfriars  Bridge,  point 
out  in  our  route  the  principal  objects  worthy  of 
notice. 

Billingsgate,  one  of  the  ancient  water-gates,  or  ports,  of 
the  city  of  London,  is  situated  close  to  the  Custom  House, 
between  the  Tower  and  London  Bridge.  Antiquaries  have 
ingeniously  derived  its  name  from  Belin,  King  of  the  Bri- 
tons, who  reigned  about  four  hundred  and  sixty  years  before 
the  Christian  era,  and  whose  bones,  according  to  Geoffrey  of 
Monmouth,  having  been  burned  to  ashes,  were  placed  in  a 
vessel  of  brass,  and  set  on  a  high  pinnacle  over  the  gate. 
Stow,  however,  considers  that  it  took  its  name  from  one 
Beling  or  Billing,  "as  Somer's  Key,  Smart's  Key,  Frost 
Wharf,  and  others  thereby,  took  their  names  of  their 
owners." 

At  all  events,  Billingsgate  was  unquestionably  the  princi- 
pal port  or  landing-place  in  London  as  early  as  the  time  of 
Ethelred  the  Second,  whose  reign  commenced  in  the  tenth 
century.  At  a  council  held  at  Wantage,  in  Berkshire,  in 
this  reign,  the  toll,  or  custom,  to  be  levied  on  merchant-ves- 


BILLINGSGATE.  223 


sels  discharging  their  goods  at  Billingsgate  was  fixed  at 
proportionate  rates.  It  was  ordered  that  every  small  boat 
should  pay  a  halfpenny ;  a  large  boat  with  sails,  one  penny ; 
ships,  four  pennies ;  vessels  laden  with  wood,  one  piece  of 
timber ;  and  vessels  laden  with  fish,  one  halfpenny  or  one 
penny,  according  to  their  size.  The  two  other  principal 
ports  of  London  in  the  days  of  our  Norman  sovereigns, 
were  Down-gate,  the  present  Dowgate,  and  the  Queen's 
Hythe,  still  known  as  Queenhithe.  As  late  as  the  fifteenth 
century  we  find  an  enactment,  that  if  one  vessel  only  should 
come  up  the  river  to  London,  it  should  discharge  its  cargo 
at  the  Queen's  Hythe ;  if  two  should  come  up  at  the  same 
time,  that  one  should  discharge  at  Billingsgate ;  if  three,  two 
were  to  proceed  to  the  Queen's  Hythe,  or  harbour,  and  the 
third  to  Billingsgate :  but  "  always  the  more  "  to  Queen- 
hithe. The  reason  for  the  preference  is  evident ;  the  cus- 
toms, or  tolls,  received  at  Queenhithe  having  been  the 
perquisites  of  the  Queen  of  England. 

Billingsgate  continued  to  be  a  flourishing  port  long  after 
Dowgate  had  ceased  to  be  a  landing-place  for  merchandise, 
and  also  after  the  harbour-dues  of  Queenhithe  had  so  fallen 
off  that  they  realised  no  more  than  fifteen  pounds  a  year. 
In  the  days  of  Stow  it  stood  alone,  for  size,  convenience,  and 
superiority  of  every  kind.  "  It  is  at  this  present,"  writes 
the  old  antiquary,  "  a  large  water-gate,  port,  or  harbour,  for 
ships  and  boats,  commonly  arriving  there  with  fish,  both 
fresh  and  salt,  shell-fishes,  salt,  onions,  oranges,  and  other 
fruits  and  roots,  wheat,  rye,  and  grain  of  diverse  sorts,  for 
the  service  of  the  city  and  the  parts  of  this  realm  adjoin- 
ing." The  great  advantage  possessed  by  Billingsgate  con- 
sisted in  its  being  on  the  east,  or  near,  side  of  the  bridge  ; 
thus  precluding  the  necessity  and  risk  of  vessels  passing 
under  it ;  the  fall  of  water  between  the  arches  having  been 


224  BILLINGSGATE. 


as  late  as  our  own  time  an  obstacle  to  traffic,  as  well  as 
dangerous  to  smaller  vessels. 

Although,  singularly  enough,  Billingsgate  was  not  consti- 
tuted "  a  free  market  for  the  sale  of  fish  "  till  the  reign  of 
William  the  Third,  it  was  unquestionably  the  great  landing- 
place  for  fish  from  the  earliest  times;  indeed,  the  very 
preamble  to  the  Act  of  Parliament  speaks  of  it  as  having 
been,  "  time  out  of  mind,  a  free  market  in  all  manner  of 
floating  and  salt  fish,  as  also  for  all  manner  of  floating 
and  shell-fish."  The  very  names  of  the  streets  in  the 
vicinity  of  Billingsgate  show  how  closely  associated  was 
the  trade  of  this  locality  with  the  fish-market  of  Billings- 
gate. Fish  Street  Hill,  Fish  Yard,  near  Eastcheap,  and 
Fishmongers'  Hall,  are  all  in  this  immediate  neighbourhood, 
reminding  us  of  the  olden  time,  when  "no  number  of 
knights  or  strangers  could  enter  the  city  at  any  hour  of  the 
day  or  night,"  without  being  able  to  supply  themselves 
with  the  choicest  fish  in  season.  Stow,  speaking  of  a  row 
of  houses  in  Old  Fish  Street,  observes,  "  These  houses,  now 
possessed  by  fishmongers,  were  at  the  first  but  moveable 
boards,  or  stalls,  set  out  on  market-days,  to  show  their  fish 
there  to  be  sold ;  but,  procuring  licence  to  set  up  sheds,  they 
grew  to  shops,  and  by  little  and  little  to  tall  houses,  of  three 
or  four  stories  in  height,  and  now  are  called  Fish  Street. 
Walter  Tuck,  Fishmonger  and  Mayor,  1349,  had  two  shops 
in  Old  Fish  Street,  over  against  St.  Nicholas  Church,  the 
one  rented  five  shillings  the  year,  the  other  four  shillings." 
According  to  Stow,  Friday  Street  derives  its  name  from  its 
having  been  inhabited  by  fishmongers,  who  attended  Friday's 
market ;  Friday,  in  Roman  Catholic  times,  having  been  the 
great  day  for  the  s^e  of  fish. 

Anciently  the  fishmongers  were  divided  into  two  com- 
panies,— the  Salt-fishmongers,  incorporated  in  1433,  and  the 


SMARTS  QUAY.  225 


Stock-fishmongers,  in  1509, — nor  was  it  till  1536  that  the  two 
companies  were  united  by  Henry  the  Eighth.  Till  within 
the  last  few  years  the  Hall  of  the  Fishmongers,  built  by 
Sir  Christopher  Wren,  was  situated  in  Thames  Street ;  but 
the  Company  now  occupy  a  fine  modern  building,  erected  in 
1831,  close  to  the  north  approach  of  London  Bridge.  The 
famous  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  Sir  William  Walworth,  who 
killed  Wat  Tyler  at  Smithfield,  was  a  member  of  this  com- 
pany, his  statue  being  still  a  conspicuous  object  in  Fish- 
mongers' Hall.  He  is  represented  in  the  act  of  striking  the 
insolent  rebel  with  a  real  dagger,  which  is  affirmed  to  be 
the  identical  weapon  used  by  him  on  the  memorable  occa- 
sion. On  the  pedestal  is  the  following  inscription  : — 

"  Brave  Walworth,  knight,  Lord  Mayor,  yt  slew 

Rebellious  Tyler  in  his  alarmes  ; 
The  King,  therefor,  did  give  in  lieu 
.     '      The  dagger  to  the  city's  armes  ; 
In  the  4th  year  of  Richard  II.,  Anno  Domini  1381." 

Unfortunately  for  the  veracity  of  this  inscription,  the 
dagger  formed  the  first  quarter  of  the  City  arms  long  before 
the  days  of  Sir  William  Walworth.  It  was,  indeed,  in- 
tended to  represent  the  sword  of  St.  Peter,  the  patron  saint 
of  the  Corporation. 

Adjoining  Billingsgate,  on  the  east  side,  stood  Smart's 
Quay,  or  wharf,  which  we  find  noticed  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  as  containing  an  ingenious  seminary  for  the  in- 
struction of  young  thieves.  The  following  extract  of  a 
letter,  addressed  to  Lord  Burghleigh,  in  July,  1585,  by  Fleet- 
wood,  the  Recorder  of  London,  evinces  that  the  "  art  and 
mystery"  of  picking  pockets  was  brought  to  considerable 
perfection  in  the  sixteenth  century  : — 

"  Amongst  our  travels  this  one  matter  tumbled  out  by 
the  way.  One  Wotton,  a  gentleman  born,  and  sometime  a 

VOL.  II.  15 


226  ST.  MARY-AT-HILL. 

merchant  of  good  credit,  having  fallen  by  time  into  decay, 
kept  an  ale-house  at  Smart's  Key,  near  Billingsgate ;  and 
after,  for  some  misdemeanour,  being  put  down,  he  reared  up 
a  new  trade  of  life,  and  in  the  same  house  he  procured  all 
the  cut-purses  about  this  city  to  repair  to  his  said  house. 
There  was  a  school-house  set  up  to  learn  young  boys  to  cut 
purses ;  there  were  hung  up  two  devices :  the  one  was  a 
pocket,  the  other  was  a  purse.  The  pocket  had  in  it  certain 
counters,  and  was  hung  about  with  hawk's  bells,  and  over 
the  top  did  hang  a  little  scaring- bell ;  and  he  that  could 
take  out  a  counter  without  any  noise,  was  allowed  to  be  a 
public  hoyster ;  and  he  that  could  take  a  piece  of  silver  out 
of  the  purse  without  the  noise  of  any  of  the  bells,  he  was 
adjudged  a  judicial  nipper.  N.B. — That  a  hoyster  is  a 
pickpocket,  and  a  nipper  is  termed  a  pick-purse,  or  a  cut- 
purse." 

Opposite  to  Billingsgate,  on  the  north  side  of  Thames 
Street,  is  St.  Mary-at-Hill,  on  the  west  side  of  which  is  a 
church,  dedicated  to  the  Virgin  Mary.  Of  the  date  of  its 
foundation  nothing  certain  is  known,  except  that  Rose  de 
Wyrtell  founded  a  chauntryon  the  spot  about  the  year  1336. 
It  suffered  severely  from  the  Fire  of  London,  in  consequence 
of  which  the  interior  and  the  east  end  were  rebuilt  by 
Sir  Christopher  Wren  between  the  years  1672  and  1677. 
Since  Wren's  time  considerable  portions  of  the  building 
have  been  taken  down  and  rebuilt ;  the  old  portions, 
namely,  the  tower  and  the  west  end,  having  been  restored 
with  brick.  Little,  indeed,  of  Wren's  work  now  remains, 
nor  does  that  little  add  much  to  his  reputation  as  an  archi- 
tect. In  this  church,  on  the,  27th  of  May,  1731,  Dr.  Young, 
the  author  of  the  "  Night  Thoughts,"  was  married  to  Lady 
Elizabeth  Lee,  widow  of  Colonel  Lee,  and  daughter  of 
Edward,  first  Earl  of  Litchfield.  The  chancel  contains  the 


PUDDING  LANE.  227 


remains  of  the  Rev.  John  Brand,  the  antiquary,  who  was 
for  many  years  rector  of  the  parish.  He  died  at  his  apart- 
ments in  Somerset  House  in  1806. 

Running  parallel  with  St.  Mary-at-Hill  are  Botolph  Lane 
and  Pudding  Lane,  the  former  containing  the  parochial 
church,  dedicated  to  St.  George  and  St.  Botolph.  This  is 
another  of  Wren's  churches,  erected  after  the  Fire  of  London, 
and  boasts  neither  historical  interest  nor  architectural  merit. 
In  Botolph  Lane  stood  the  residence  of  that  ancient  and 
illustrious  race,  the  Fitzalans,  Earls  of  Arundel.  Henry,  tho 
eighteenth  and  last  Earl  in  the  male  line,  who  is  known  to 
have  aspired  to  the  hand  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  was  residing 
here  at  the  time  of  his  death  in  1579. 

Pudding  Lane  is  famous  as  the  spot  where  the  great  fire 
first  broke  out,  on  the  2nd  of  September,  1666.  In  the 
middle  of  the  last  century  the  following  inscription  was  to 
be  seen  on  the  site  of  the  house  where  it  commenced;  but 
in  consequence  of  the  inconvenience  caused  by  the  number 
of  passers-by,  who  stopped  to  read  it,  it  was  removed : — 

"  Here,  by  the  permission  of  Heaven,  Hell  broke  loose  upon 
this  Protestant  city,  from  the  malicious  hearts  of  barbarous 
Papists,  lay  the  hand  of  their  agent,  Hubert,  who  confessed, 
and  on  the  ruins  of  this  place  declared  the  fact,  for  which  he 
was  hanged,  viz. — That  here  began  that  dreadful  fire  which 
is  described,  and  perpetuated  on,  by  the  neighbouring  pillar, 
erected  anno  1680,  in  the  Mayoralty  of  Sir  Patience  Ward, 
Knight." 

Hubert,  the  person  here  referred  to,  was  hanged  on  his 
own  confession  that  his  hand  had  lighted  the  flame  which 
laid  London  in  ashes.  His  statement  was,  that  he  had 
placed  a  fireball  at  the  end  of  a  poll,  and  after  having 
lighted  it  had  thrust  it  into  the  window  of  the  house  in 
which  the  fire  subsequently  broke  out.  There  can  be  little 

15—2 


228  ST.  MICHAEL'S  LANE. 

doubt,  however,  that  Hubert  was  a  mere  monomaniac,  in 
whose  mind  the  awful  conflagration  had  raised  the  delusion 
that  he  was  the  author  of  the  calamity ;  indeed,  the  captain 
of  the  vessel  which  brought  him  to  England — a  perfectly 
disinterested  person — swore  positively  that  he  did  not  land 
till  two  days  after  the  fire.  All,  indeed,  that  is  known  of 
the  origin  of  the  conflagration  may  be  summed  up  in  the 
concise  words  of  Lord  Clarendon.  "  There  was  never  any 
probable  evidence  that  there  was  any  other  cause  of  that 
woeful  fire  than  the  displeasure  of  God  Almighty."  *  No. 
25,  Pudding  Lane,  is  said  to  be  the  site  of  the  house  in  which 
the  fire  broke  out.  It  was  then  occupied  by  one  Farryner, 
baker  .to  Charles  the  Second. 

Still  proceeding  westward,  along  Thames  Street,  on  the 
right  is  St.  Michael's,  or  Miles  Lane,  leading  to  what  remains  of 
Crooked  Lane,  in  which  stood  the  church  of  St.  Michael,  an- 
other of  "Wren's  churches,  erected  after  the  destruction  of  the 
ancient  edifice  by  the  fire  of  London.  It  was  pulled  down, 
together  with  a  portion  of  Crooked  Lane,  in  1831,  to  make 
room  for  the  approaches  to  New  London  Bridge.  A  church 
existed  on  this  spot  at  least  as  early  as  the  end  of  the  thir- 
teenth century,  at  which  period  John  de  Borham  is  men- 
tioned as  Rector.  In  1366,  it  was  rebuilt  by  John  de 
Louken,  "  stock-fishmonger,"  and  four  times  Lord  Mayor  of 
London,  to  whom  the  celebrated  Sir  William  Walworth  was 
at  one  time  apprentice.  Both  master  and  man  were  buried 
in  this  church.  De  Louken  is  said  to  have  been  interred 
under  "  a  fair  marble  tomb,"  which  was  probably  destroyed 
in  the  great  fire,  as  was  that  of  the  stalwart  Sir  William 
Walworth,  on  whose  tomb,  as  Weever  informs  us,  were  in- 
scribed the  following  lines  : — 

*  Continuation  of  the  "Life  of  Lord  Clarendon,  by  Himself." 


OLD  SWAN  STAIRS.  229 

"  Here  under  lieth  a  man  of  fame, 
William  Walworth  called  by  name  ; 
Fishmonger  he  was  in  lifetime  here, 
And  twice  Lord  Mayor,  as  in  book  appear  ; 
Who,  with  courage  stout  and  manly  might, 
Slew  Wat  Tyler  in  King  Richard's  sight ; 
For  which  act  done,  and  true  intent, 
The  king  made  him  knight  incontinent ; 
And  gave  him  arms,  as  here  you  see, 
To  declare  his  feat  and  chivalry  ; 
He  left  his  life,  the  year  of  our  Lord 
Thirteen  hundred  fourscore  three  and  odd." 

Sir  William  resided  in  a  house  adjoining  St.  Michael's 
Church.  This  house  he  bequeathed,  together  with  other 
property,  for  the  purpose  of  founding  a  college,  consisting  of 
a  master  and  nine  priests  who  were  attached  to  the  church. 

The  following  brief  and  quaint  epitaph  was  copied  by 
Weever  from  a  monument  in  the  old  church : — 

"  Here  lyeth,  wrapt  in  clay, 
The  body  of  William  Wray  ; 
I  have  no  more  to  say." 

A  little  beyond  Miles  Lane,  on  the  south  side  of  Thames 
Street,  is  Old  Swan  Lane,  leading  to  the  Old  Swan  Stairs, 
close  to  London  Bridge,  at  which  spot  the  river  steamers 
embark  their  passengers.  As  far  back  as  the  reign  of 
Henry  the  Sixth,  these  stairs  bore  their  present  appella- 
tion of  the  Old  Swan  Stairs ;  indeed  the  greater  number  of 
the  stairs  and  landing-places  on  the  banks  of  the  river  still 
retain  the  same  names  by  which  they  were  distinguished  in 
the  days  of  the  Tudors  and  Plantagenets.  Boswell  mentions 
his  landing  with  Dr.  Johnson  at  the  Old  Swan  Stairs,  whence 
they  walked  to  Billingsgate,  where  they  "  took  oars  "  for 
Greenwich.  Their  object  in  adopting  this  short  circuitous 
route,  which  was  a  common  practice  at  the  period,  was  evi- 
dently to  avoid  the  danger  of  "  shooting "  Old  London 
Bridge. 


230  COLE  HARBOUR. 


To  the  west  of  the  Old  Swan  Stairs  was  Cold  Harborough, 
or  Cold  Inn,  corrupted  into  Cole  Harbour.     Here,  in  the 
reign  of  Edward  the  Third,  stood  Poultney  Inn,  the  magni- 
ficent mansion  of  Sir  John  Poultney,  four  times  Lord  Mayor 
of  London.     At  the  close  of  the  fourteenth  century  it  was 
the  residence  of  the  ill-fated  John  Holland,  Duke  of  Exeter, 
third  son  of  Thomas  Holland,  Earl  of  Kent,  by  the  cele- 
brated heiress,  Joan  Plantagenet,  "  the  Fair  Maid  of  Kent." 
He  was  half-brother  of  King  Richard  the  Second,  whom  he 
entertained  here  on  one  occasion  with  great  magnificence. 
He  was  succeeded  in  the  occupation  of  Poultney  Inn  by 
Edmund  of  Langley,  Earl  of  Cambridge,  fifth  son  of  Edward 
the  Third;   and  subsequently  by  Henry  Holland,  second 
Duke  of  Exeter,  the  gallant  and  devoted  adherent  of  the  un- 
fortunate Henry  the  Sixth.      In  1485,  Poultney  Inn  was 
granted  by  Richard  the  Third  for  the  use  of  the  heralds,  who, 
however,  could  have  occupied  it  but  a  short  time,  when  it 
became  the  residence  of  the  celebrated  Margaret  Countess 
of  Richmond,  mother  of  Henry  the  Seventh.     Here,  in  1497, 
we  find  her  giving  a  splendid  entertainment  to  the  nobles 
and  prelates  who  accompanied  Catherine  of  Aragon  from 
Spain  previously  to  her  marriage  with  Arthur  Prince  of 
Wales.*   Not  long  after  this  time  it  was  conferred  by  Henry 
on  George  Talbot,  fourth  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  one  of  his 
ablest  and  bravest  subjects.     In  the  following  reign  we  find 
it  the   temporary  palace  of  Tunstal,  Bishop  of  Durham. 
Edward  the  Sixth  granted  it  to  Francis,  fifth  Earl  of  Shrews- 
bury, from  which   time  it  took  the  name  of  Shrewsbury 
House.     It  was  subsequently  pulled  down  by  George,  the 
sixth  Earl,  who  erected  several  small  tenements  on  its  site. 
Not  many  years  afterwards,  we  find  Cole  Harbour  referred 
to  by  Ben  Jonson,  Bishop  Hall,  and  by  other  writers  of  the 
*  "Antiquarian  Repertory, "  vol.  ii.,  p.  293. 


THE  STEEL-YARD.  231 

Elizabethan  age,  as  among  the  most  squalid  and  indifferent 
localities  in  London.*  The  site  is  now  principally  occupied 
by  Calvert's  brewery. 

Close  to  Cole  Harbour  was  the  Steel-yard,  the  origin  of 
the  name  of  which  has  occasioned  some  discussion  among 
antiquaries.  Whether  it  derives  its  appellation  from  the 
German  word  "  Staal-hoff,"  signifying  a  place  of  trade,  from 
the  quantity  of  steel  which  is  said  to  have  been  anciently 
sold  there,  or  from  the  king's  "  Steel-yard,"  or  beam,  which 
was  used  for  ascertaining  the  amount  of  tonnage  of  imported 
goods,  will  probably  ever  remain  a  disputed  question.  Here, 
before  the  Norman  Conquest,  is  said  to  have  been  situated 
the  quay  where  the  Hanse  merchants,  by  whom  the  English 
were  first  taught  the  arts  of  commerce,  landed  their  merchan- 
dise, as  well  as  wheat,  rye,  and  other  grain.  For  centuries 
they  continued  to  be  the  principal  importers  into  the  king- 
dom, in  consequence  of  which  they  were  allowed  extraordi- 
nary privileges,  having  a  Guildhall  and  an  Alderman  of  their 
own.  In  return  for  these  favours  they  were  required  to 
keep  one  of  the  City  gates,  Bishop's-gate,  in  perfect  repair, 
and  to  assist  with  money  and  men  in  defending  it  in  time  of 
need.  Consequently,  in  1479,  we  find  it  entirely  rebuilt  at 
their  expense.  The  company  fell  gradually  into  decay,  and 
in  1597-8  was  finally  dissolved  by  proclamation ;  the  mer- 
chants being  commanded  to  quit  the  kingdom  by  the  28th 
of  February  in  that  year. 

On  the  south  side  of  Thames  Street,  close  to  where  the 
Steel-yard  formerly  stood,  is  the  church  of  Allhallows  the 
Great,  anciently  called  Allhallows  the  More,  and  sometimes 
Allhallows  in  the  Ropery,  from  its  being  situated  in  the 
district  chiefly  inhabited  by  rope-makers.  It  was  founded 
in  1361,  by  the  Despencer  family,  from  whom  the  presenta- 

*  See  Cunningham's  "  Handbook  of  London. "    Art.  Cold  Harbour. 


232  THE  ERBER. 


tion  passed  by  marriage  to  the  Beau  champs,  Earls  of  War- 
wick, and  subsequently  to  the  Crown.  The  present  unin- 
teresting church  was  built  by  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  shortly 
after  the  destruction  of  the  old  edifice  by  fire,  in  1666.  Stow 
informs  us  that  there  was  a  statue  of  Queen  Elizabeth  in  the 
old  church,  to  which  the  following  verses  were  attached : — 

"  If  royal  virtue  ever  crowned  a  crown  ; 
If  ever  mildness  shined  in  majesty ; 
If  ever  honour  honoured  true  renown  ; 
If  ever  courage  dwelt  with  clemency ; 

"  If  ever  Princess  put  all  Princes  down, 
For  temperance,  prowess,  prudence,  equity  ; 
This,  this  was  she,  that  in  despite  of  death 
Lives  still  admired, — adored  Elizabeth  !" 

The  only  object  of  any  interest  in  the  interior  of  the 
church  is  a  handsome  oak  screen — said  to  have  been  manu- 
factured in  Hamburg — which  was  presented  to  the  church 
by  the  Hanse  merchants,  in  grateful  memory  of  their  con- 
nection with  the  parish. 

On  the  south  side  of  Thames  Street,  between  the  Steel- 
yard and  Dowgate,  stood  that  magnificent  mansion  of  the 
olden  time,  the  Erber — so  intimately  associated  with  the 
stirring  times  of  chivalry,  and  with  more  than  one  illus- 
trious name.  It  was  granted  by  Edward  the  Third  to  the 
gallant  and  learned  Sir  Geoffrey  Le  Scrope.  Its  next  illus- 
trious occupant  was  John  Lord  Neville  of  Baby,  the  heroic 
companion-in-arms  of  Edward  the  Third,  from  whom  it  de- 
scended to  his  son,  Ralph  Neville,  first  Earl  of  Westmore- 
land. This  was  that  powerful  lord  who  was  so  instrumental 
in  raising  Henry  Duke  of  Lancaster  to  the  throne  as  Henry 
the  Fourth,  and  who  afterwards  so  distinguished  himself  in 
that  Border  warfare,  and  in  those  successful  operations 
against  the  Percies,  which  led  to  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury, 
and  to  the  untimely  end  of  the  impetuous  Harry  Hotspur. 


\ 


THE  ERBER.  233 


From  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland  the  Erber  passed  into  the 
possession  of  another  branch  of  the  Nevilles,  the  Earls  of 
Salisbury  and  Warwick.  But  the  principal  interest  at- 
tached to  the  spot  is  from  its  having  been  occupied  by  the 
residence  of  the  great  "  King-maker,"  Richard  Earl  of 
Warwick.  Some  idea  may  be  formed  of  his  princely  hos- 
pitality, from  the  fact  that,  at  his  house  in  London,  no 
fewer  than  six  oxen  were  daily  consumed  by  his  retainers 
at  breakfast ;  any  person,  moreover,  who  happened  to  have 
access  to  his  establishment,  being  permitted  to  take  away 
with  him  "as  much  sodden 'and  roast  meat  as  he  might 
carry  upon  a  long  dagger."  After  the  death  of  the  Earl, 
the  ragged  staff  and  white  cross  disappeared  from  over  the 
portals  of  the  Erber :  and  not  long  afterwards  we  find  it 
occupied  by  the  ill-fated  George  Duke  of  Clarence,  "  false, 
fleeting,  perjured  Clarence,"  who  obtained  a  grant  of  it  from 
Parliament  in  right  of  his  wife,  Isabel,  daughter  of  the 
King-maker.  After  the  death  of  Clarence  the  Erber  be- 
came the  residence  of  his  younger  brother,  Richard  Duke 
of  Gloucester,  on  whose  usurpation,  as  Richard  the  Third,  we 
find  it  styled  the  King's  Palace,  and  undergoing  considerable 
repairs.  During  the  brief  reign  of  Richard  it  was  occupied 
for  him  by  one  Ralph  Darnel,  a  yeoman  of  the  crown  ;  but, 
on  the  death  of  the  usurper,  was  restored  to  Edward,  son  of 
the  Duke  of  Clarence,  in  whose  possession  it  remained  till 
his  attainder  in  August,  1500.  It  was  rebuilt  in  1584,  by 
Sir  Thomas  Pullison,  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  and  not  long 
afterwards  became,  according  to  Stow,  the  residence  of  the 
great  navigator  and  hero,  Sir  Francis  Drake. 

Pursuing  our  route  in  a  westwardly  direction  along  Thames 
Street,  on  the  right  hand  is  the  street  called  Dowgate  Hill, 
and  immediately  opposite  it,  on  the  left,  is  a  small  passage 
leading  to  the  Thames.  This  passage  leads  us  to  the  site  of 


234  WALBROOK. 


the  ancient  wharf,  or  port,  of  the  Saxons,  called  Dowgate, 
to  which  we  have  already  referred.  But  the  ground  is  ren- 
dered still  more  interesting,  from  its  being  the  site  of  the 
trajeclus,  or  ferry — the  identical  spot  on  the  banks  of  the 
Thames  whence  the  ferry  boats  of  the  Romans  passed  over 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  in  connection  with  the 
great  military  way  to  Dover.  Here  also  centred,  and 
branched  off,  the  Roman  military  roads,  which  led  to  their 
different  stations  throughout  England. 
Ben  Jonson  speaks — 

' '  Of  Dowgate  torrents  falling  into  Thames  ;"— 

and  Strype,  alluding  to  the  descent  from  Dowgate  Hill,  in- 
forms us  that,  in  his  time,  "  in  great  and  sudden  rains,  the 
water  comes  down  from  other  streets  with  that  swiftness, 
that  it  ofttimes  causeth  a  flood  in  the  lower  part." 

Close  to  Dowgate  ran,  arid  as  a  filthy  sewer  continued 
to  run  till  within  a  few  years,  the  once  clear  and  rapid 
river  of  Walbrook.  How  changed  from  the  days  when 
it  rippled  and  flowed  from  its  source  in  the  Moorfields, 
and  when  it  was  crossed  by  several  bridges  which  were 
kept  in  repair  by  different  religious  houses,  who  were 
only  too  grateful  for  the  advantages  which  they  derived 
from  its  pure  and  refreshing  waters !  On  the  occasion  of 
the  new  buildings  being  erected  at  the  Bank  in  1803, 
Walbrook  might  be  still  seen  among  the  foundations,  pur- 
suing its  trickling  course  towards  the  Thames. 

A  little  beyond  Dowgate  is  Three  Cranes  Lane,  leading  to 
the  ancient  Three  Cranes  Wharf,  so  called  from  the  cranes 
used  in  landing  wine  and  heavy  articles  of  merchandise. 
It  was  principally  used  by  the  vintners,  or  wine-merchants, 
who  abounded  in  this  locality,  and  who  obtained  for  it  the 
title  of  the  Vintry. 


THE  VI N TRY.  235 


In  Ben  Jonson's  comedy,  "  The  Devil  is  an  Ass  "  (act  i. 
scene  1),  we  find — 

"  Nay,  boy,  I  will  bring  thee  to  the  bawds  and  the  roysterers, 
At  Billingsgate  feasting  with  claret- wine  and  oysters  ; 
From  thence  shoot  the  Bridge,  child,  to  the  Cranes  in  the  Vintry, 
And  see  there  the  gimblets,  how  they  make  their  entry." 

Close  by,  on  the  south  side  of  Thames  Street,  is  the  hall 
of  the  Vintners'  Company,  which  stands  on  the  site  of  a  large 
mansion  once  occupied  by  Sir  John  Stodie,  Lord  Mayor  of 
London  in  1357.  This  company  was  first  incorporated  in 
1340,  under  the  name  of  "Wme-tunners.  In  the  court-rooms 
are  portraits  of  Charles  the  Second,  James  the  Second,  Mary 
d'Este,  and  Prince  George  of  Denmark. 

In  the  Vintry  stood,  at  the  commencement  of  the  four- 
teenth century,  the  magnificent  mansion  of  Sir  John  Gisors, 
Lord  Mayor  of  London  and  Constable  of  the  Tower.  Later 
in  that  century  we  find  it  the  residence  of  Sir  Henry  Picard, 
Vintner  and  Lord  Mayor,  who  entertained  here,  with  great 
splendour,  no  less  distinguished  personages  than  his  sove- 
reign, Edward  the  Third,  John  King  of  France,  the  King  of 
Cyprus,  David  King  of  Scotland,  Edward  the  Black  Prince, 
and  a  large  assemblage  of  the  nobility.  "  And  after,"  says 
Stow,  "  the  said  Henry  Picard  kept  his  hall  against  all 
comers  whosoever  that  were  willing  to  play  at  dice  and 
hazard.  In  like  manner  the  Lady  Margaret,  his  wife,  did 
also  keep  her  chamber  to  the  same  effect."  We  are  told 
that  on  this  occasion,  "  the  King  of  Cyprus,  playing  with 
Sir  Henry  Picard  in  his  hall,  did  win  of  him  fifty  marks ; 
but  Picard,  being  very  skilful  in  that  art,  altering  his  hand, 
did  after  win  of  the  same  King  the  same  fifty  marks,  and 
fifty  marks  more  ;  which  when  the  same  King  began  to  take 
an  ill  part,  although  he  dissembled  the  same,  Sir  Henry  said 
unto  him,  '  My  Lord  and  King,  be  not  aggrieved  ;  I  court  not 


236  COLLEGE  HILL. 


your  gold,  but  your  play,  for  I  have  not  bid  you  hither  that 
you  might  grieve :'  and  giving  him  his  money  again,  plenti- 
fully bestowed  of  his  own  amongst  the  retinue.  Besides, 
he  gave  many  rich  gifts  to  the  King,  and  other  nobles  and 
knights  which  dined  with  him,  to  the  great  glory  of  the  citi- 
zens of  London  in  those  days." 

Worcester  Place,  on  the  west  side  of  Vintners'  Hall,  points 
out  the  site  of  Worcester  Inn,  the  residence  of  the  learned 
and  accomplished  John  de  Tiptoffc,  Earl  of  Worcester, 
Chancellor  and  Lord  Deputy  of  Ireland  in  the  reign  of 
Edward  the  Fourth.  This  remarkable  man  is  said  to  have 
visited  Rome  for  the  express  purpose  of  examining  the 
library  in  the  Vatican,  on  which  occasion  he  addressed  so 
eloquent  an  oration  to  Pope  Pius  the  Second,  as  to  draw 
tears  from  his  Holiness.  Being  a  staunch  adherent  of  the 
House  of  York,  the  temporary  restoration  of  Henry  the 
Sixth,  in  1470,  placed  his  life  in  great  danger.  Perceiving 
that  his  powerful  enemy,  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  was  deter- 
mined on  bringing  him  to  the  block,  he  sought  for  safety  in 
flight,  but  having  been  found  concealed  in  the  upper 
branches  of  a  tree,  he  was  conveyed  to  London,  and  shortly 
afterwards  perished  by  the  hands  of  the  executioner  on 
Tower  Hill. 

On  £he  north  side  of  Thames  Street,  opposite  to  Three- 
Cranes  Lane,  is  College  Hill,  so  called  from  a  College  dedi- 
cated to  St.  Spirit  and  St.  Mary,  founded  by  the  celebrated 
Sir  Richard  Whittington,  three  times  Lord  Mayor  of  Lon- 
don. 

In  a  pasquinade,  preserved  in  the  state  poems,  entitled  the 
"  D.  of  B.'s  [Duke  of  Buckingham's]  Litany,"  occur  the  fol- 
lowing lines : — 

"  From  damning  whatever  we  don't  understand, 
From  purchasing  at  Dowgate,  and  selling  in  the  Strand, 


ST.  MICHAEL'S  CHURCH.  237 

From  calling  streets  by  our  name  when  we've  sold  the  land,* 

Libera  nos,  Domine. 

"  From  borrowing  our  own  house  to  feast  scholars  ill, 
And  then  be  un-Chancellored  against  our  will, 
Nought  left  of  a  college  but  College  Hill, 

Libera  nos,"  &c. 

These  verses  allude  to  the  circumstance  of  the  witty  and 
fantastic  George  Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  having  pur- 
chased a  "  large  and  graceful  "  mansion  on  College  Hill,  pro- 
bably for  the  purpose  of  extending  his  influence,  and  spread- 
ing sedition  among  the  citizens  of  London,  at  the  time  when 
he  was  plotting  against  his  too  easy  and  confiding  master, 
Charles  the  Second.  Lord  Clarendon,  indeed,  informs  us 
that  the  Duke  "  had  many  lodgings  in  several  quarters  of 
the  City  ;  and  though  his  majesty  had  frequent  intelligence 
where  lie  was,  yet  when  the  sergeant-at-arms,  and  others 
employed  for  his  apprehension,  came  where  he  was  known 
to  have  been  but  an  hour  before,  he  was  gone  from  thence, 
or  so  concealed  that  he  could  not  be  found."-f 

St.  Michael's  Paternoster  Royal,  which  church  stands  on  the 
east  side  of  College  Hill,  was  rebuilt  by  the  executors  of  Whit- 
tington,  who  was  buried  beneath  its  roof  under  a  sumptuous 
tomb  which  probably  shared  the  fate  of  the  church  in  the 
great  fire  of  1666.  In  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  a 
sacrilegious  rector,  one  Thomas  Mountain,  caused  the  tomb 
to  be  broken  open,  being  under  the  impression  that  it  con- 
tained articles  of  considerable  value.  In  the  reign  of  Queen 
Mary  the  body  was  again  disturbed  for  the  purpose  of  being 
re-wrapped  in  a  leaden  sheet,  of  which  it  had  been  despoiled 
in  the  preceding  reign. 

*  Alluding  to  George  Street,  Duke  Street,  Villiers  Street,  Buckingham 
Street,  &c.  erected  by  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  on  the  site  of  his  former 
residence  in  the  Strand. 

t  "  Lord  Clarendon's  Life  of  Himself,"  continuation. 


238  TOWER  ROYAL. 


In  St.  Michael's  Church  also  lies  buried  the  cavalier,  sol- 
dier, and  poet,  John  Cleveland,  of  whom  Echard  observes, 
that  he  was  "the  first  poetic  champion"  for  Charles  the 
First.  The  poets  of  the  day,  indeed,  allied  themselves,  almost 
without  an  exception,  to  the  broken  fortunes  of  their  unfor- 
tunate sovereign.  Having  been  expelled  by  the  ruling 
powers  from  his  fellowship  at  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge, 
for  'malignancy,  Cleveland  joined  the  King's  camp  at  Ox- 
ford, and  afterwards  served  in  garrison  at  Newark-upon- 
Trent.  He  subsequently  fell  into  the  hands  of  Cromwell, 
and  was  thrown  into  prison,  where  he  remained  for  a  few 
months.  On  his  release  he  took  up  his  abode  in  Gray's  Inn, 
where  Butler,  the  author  of  "  Hudibras,"  was  his  neighbour 
and  chosen  companion,  and  where  they  established  a  nightly 
club.  Cleveland  was  also  the  friend  of  Bishop  Pierson,  who 
preached  a  funeral  sermon  over  his  remains  in  St.  Michael's 
Church.* 

The  body  of  the  present  plain  and  substantial  edifice  was 
completed  in  1694,  after  designs  by  Sir  Christopher  Wren. 
In  this  church  is  Hilton's  much-admired  picture  of  Mary 
Magdalen  anointing  the  feet  of  Christ ;  but,  with  this  excep- 
tion, and  some  tolerable  oak  carving  on  the  altar-piece 
beneath  the  picture,  St.  Michael's  contains  but  little  to  render 
it  worthy  of  a  visit. 

St.  Michael's  derives  its  appellation  of  Royal  from  a  pala- 
tial fortress  called  the  Tower  Royal,  which  anciently  stood 
nearly  on  the  site  of  the  small  street  which  still  bears  the 
name  of  Tower  Royal.  Here,  according  to  Stow,  resided 
more  than  one  of  our  kings,  among  whom  were  King  Stephen 
and  Richard  the  Second.  In  the  latter  reign  it  obtained  the 
name  of  the  Queen's  Wardrobe,  probably  from  having  been 
the  residence  of  the  King's  mother,  who  for  some  time  kept 

*  Aubrey  ("  Letters  of  Eminent  Men,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  289)  states  that  Cleve- 
land was  buried  in  St.  Andrew's  Church,  Holborn.     This  is  a  mistake. 


TOWER  ROYAL.  239 


her  court  here.  It  was  apparently  of  considerable  strength ; 
at  least  if  we  may  judge  from  the  fact  of  that  Princess  pre- 
ferring it  to  the  Tower  as  a  place  of  security,  and  conse- 
quently taking  refuge  here  from  the  violence  of  Wat  Tyler 
and  his  lawless  followers.  "  King  Richard,"  says  Stow, 
"  having  in  Smithfield  overcome  and  dispersed  his  rebels,  he, 
his  lords,  and  all  his  company,  entered  the  city  of  London 
with  great  joy,  and  went  to  the  lady  Princess,  his  mother, 
who  was  then  lodged  in  the  Tower  Royal,  called  the  Queen's 
Wardrobe,  where  she  had  remained  three  days  and  two 
nights,  right  sore  abashed ;  but  when  she  saw  the  King,  her 
son,  she  was  greatly  rejoiced,  and  said,  '  Ah,  son  !  what  great 
sorrow  have  I  suffered  for  you  this  day ! '  The  King  an- 
swered and  said,  '  Certainly,  madam,  I  know  it  well ;  but 
now  rejoice,  and  thank  God,  for  I  have  this  day  recovered 
mine  heritage,  and  the  realm  of  England,  which  I  had  near 
hand  lost/  "  Shortly  afterwards  we  find  the  Tower  Royal 
set  apart  by  King  Richard  as  the  residence  of  Leon  the 
Third,  King  of  Armenia,  when  he  sought  an  asylum  in  Eng- 
land after  having  been  expelled  from  his  kingdom  by  the 
Turks.  The  last  notice  which  we  discover  of  the  Tower 
Royal  is  in  the  reign  of  Richard  the  Third,  when  it  was 
granted  to  John,  first  Duke  of  Norfolk,  who  made  it  his  resi- 
dence till  the  period  of  his  death  on  the  memorable  field  of 
Bosworth,  in  August  1485. 

Within  a  short  distance  from  Tower  Royal  is  Garlick 
Hill,  on  the  east  side  of  which  stands  the  parish  church 
of  St.  James's  Garlick  Hythe,  so  called  from  its  vicinity  to  a 
garlic-market  which  was  anciently  held  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. This  is  another  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren's  edifices, 
and  is  entirely  devoid  of  architectural  merit.  The  date  of 
the  foundation  of  the  old  edifice  is  lost  in  antiquity.  We 
only  know  that  it  was  rebuilt  by  Richard  Rothing,  Sheriff  of 
London,  in  1326 ;  that  it  was  destroyed  by  fire  in  1666,  and 


240  ST.  JAMES'S  GARLICK  HYTHE. 

again  rebuilt  between  the  years  1676  and  1682.  Anciently 
this  church  appears  to  have  been  often  selected  for  the  burial 
of  the  Lord  Mayors  of  London.  Here  were  interred  John 
of  Oxenford,  Vintner  and  Lord  Mayor  in  1341 ;  Sir  John 
Wrotch,  Lord  Mayor  in  1360;  William  Venour,  in  1389; 
William  More,  in  1395;  Robert  Chichley,  in  1421;  and  Sir 
James  Spencer,  in  1527.  Among  other  persons  who  were 
interred  in  the  old  church,  and  whose  monuments  were  de- 
stroyed by  the  fire  of  London,  was  Richard  Lions,  a  wine- 
merchant  and  lapidary,  who  was  beheaded  by  Wat  Tyler  and 
the  rebels  in  Cheapside  in  the  reign  of  Richard  the  Second. 
Here  too  were  monuments  to  more  than  one  of  the  great 
family  of  the  Stanleys,  whose  residence,  Derby  House, 
afterwards  converted  into  the  Herald's  College,  stood  in  the 
immediate  neighbourhood. 

In  the  "  Spectator"  (No.  147)  there  is  an  interesting  notice 
of  St.  James's  Garlick  Hythe.  Addison,  speaking  of  the 
beautiful  service  of  the  Church  of  England,  remarks, — 
"  Until  Sunday  was  se'nnight,  I  never  discovered,  to  so  great 
a  degree,  the  excellency  of  the  Common  Prayer.  Being  at 
St.  James's  Garlick  Hill  Church,  I  heard  the  service  read  so 
distinctly,  so  emphatically,  and  so  fervently,  that  it  was  next 
to  an  impossibility  to  be  unattentive.  My  eyes  and  my 
thoughts  could  not  wander  as  usual,  but  were  confined  to 
my  prayers.  .  .  .  The  Confession  was  read  with  such  a  re- 
signed humility;  the  Absolution  with  such  a  comfortable 
authority;  the  Thanksgivings  with  such  a  religious  joy,  as 
made  me  feel  those  affections  of  the  mind  in  a  manner  I 
never  did  before."  The  rector  of  the  parish  at  this  period 
was  the  Reverend  Philip  Stubbs,  afterwards  Archdeacon  of 
St.  Albans,  whose  fine  voice  and  impressive  delivery  are  said 
to  have  been  long  remembered  by  his  old  parishioners. 


QUEENHITHE,  BAYNAKD'S  CASTLE,  HOUSES 
OF  THE  NOBILITY,  BLACKFEIARS,  &c. 

DERIVATION  OF  THE  NAME  OF  QUEENHITHE.— CELEBRATED  RESIDENTS  IN  BAY- 
NARD'S  CASTLE.— MANSIONS  NEAR  PAUL'S  WHARF. — MONASTERY  OF  THE 
BLACK  FRIARS. — REPUDIATION  OF  QUEEN  CATHERINE. — QUEEN  ELIZABETH 
AT  COBI1AM  HOUSE. —THE  FATAL  VESPERS. — BLACKFRIARS  BRIDGE. — FLEET 
DITCH. — STRONGHOLDS  OF  THIEVES. — PALACE  OF  BRIDEWELL. — ALSATIA. — 
EXECUTION  OF  LORD  SANQUHAR. 

/CONTINUING  our  route  along  Thames  Street,  we  shall 
\_J  point  out  as  we  pass  along  the  particular  sites  on  the 
banks,  of  the  river,  which  are  associated  either  with 
the  history,  the  manners,  or  the  romance  of  past  times.  We 
have  hitherto  strolled  from  Billingsgate  as  far  as  Queen- 
hithe;  we  will  now  continue  from  Queenhithe  to  the 
Temple  Garden. 

Queenhithe,  Queenhive,  or  Queen's  Harbour, — on  the  west 
side  of  South wark  Bridge, — was  anciently  called  Edred's 
Hythe ;  and,  as  far  back  as  the  days  of  the  Saxons,  was  one 
of  the  principal  harbours  or  quays  where  foreign  vessels  dis- 
charged their  cargoes.  According  to  Stow,  it  derived  its 
more  ancient  name  of  Edred's  Hythe  from  one  Edred,  who 
had  been  a  proprietor  of  the  wharf.  We  have  evidence  that 
it  was  royal  property  in  the  reign  of  King  Stephen ; 
that  monarch  having  bestowed  it  upon  William  de  Ypres, 
who,  in  his  turn,  conferred  it  on  the  Convent  of  the  Holy 
Trinity  within  Aldgate.  In  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Third 

VOL.  II.  16 


242  ST.  MICHAEL'S  QUEENHITHE. 

it  again  came  into  the  possession  of  the  Crown.  In  conse- 
quence of  the  harbour-dues  being  the  perquisite  of  the 
Queen  of  England,  it  obtained  particular  favour ;  foreign 
ships,  and  especially  vessels  which  brought  corn  from  the 
Cinque  Ports,  being  compelled  to  land  their  cargoes  here. 
From  its  connection  also  with  the  Queen  of  England  it 
obtained  its  name  of  Ripa  Regince,  or  Queen's  Hythe.  For 
centuries  it  maintained  a  successful  rivalry  with  Billings- 
gate.* From  Fabian,  however,  who  wrote  at  the  end  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  we  learn  that  in  his  time  the  harbour-dues 
of  Queenhithe  had  so  fallen  off  as  to  be  worth  only  £15  a 
year.  A  century  afterwards,  Stow  speaks  of  it  as  being 
almost  forsaken. 

Opposite  to  Queenhithe,  on  the  north  side  of  Thames- 
Street,  is  situated  the  parish  church  of  St.  Michael,  Queen- 
hithe ;  an  edifice  erected  by  Sir  Christopher  Wren  on  the  site 
of  a  very  ancient  church  destroyed  by  the  fire  of  London. 
In  1181,  we  find  it  denominated  St.  Michael  de-  Cornhithe ; 
Queenhithe  being  probably  occasionally  styled  Cornhithe, 
from  the  quantity  of  corn  which  was  landed  there  from 
the  Cinque  Ports.  The  church  contains  no  monuments 
of  any  interest ;  nor,  with  the  exception  of  its  small  but 
elegant  spire,  and  some  fine  carved  fruit  and  flowers  on  the 
doorway  next  to  the  pulpit,  has  it  much  artistical  merit. 

A  little  beyond  Queenhithe  is  Paul's  "Wharf,  which  de- 
rives its  name  from  its  vicinity  to  the  great  cathedral  of 
St.  Paul's. 

Close  to  this  spot  stood  the  mansion  occupied  by  Cicely, 
youngest  daughter  of  the  haughty  and  powerful  Baron, 
Ralph  de  Neville,  first  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  and  widow  of 
Richard  Plantagenet,  Duke  of  York ;  in  whose  ambition 
originated  the  devastating  wars  between  the  White  and  Red 

*  See  ante,  p.  223. 


FAMILY  OF  RICHARD  PLANTAGENET.          213 

Roses.  She  was  the  mother  of  a  numerous  family,  of  whom 
seven  survived  to  figure  prominently  in  the  stirring  times 
in  which  they  lived.  When  this  lady — the  granddaughter 
of  John  of  Gaunt — sat  in  her  domestic  circle,  watching  com- 
placently the  childish  sports,  and  listening  to  the  joyous 
laughter  of  her  young  progeny,  how  little  could  she  have 
anticipated  the  strange  fate  which  awaited  them!  Her 
husband  perished  on  the  bloody  field  of  Wakefield;  her 
first-born,  afterwards  Edward  the  Fourth,  followed  in  the 
ambitious  footsteps  of  his  father,  and  waded  through  blood- 
shed to  a  throne ;  her  second  son,  Edmund,  Earl  of  Rutland, 
perished  at  the  battle  of  Wakefield ;  her  third  son,  "  false, 
fleeting,  perjured  Clarence,"  died  in  the  dungeons  of  the 
Tower;  and  her  youngest  son,  Richard,  succeeded  to  a 
throne  and  a  bloody  death.  The  career  of  her  daughters 
was  also  remarkable.  Anne,  her  eldest  daughter,  married 
Henry  Holland,  Duke  of  Exeter,  whose  splendid  fortunes 
and  mysterious  fate  are  so  well  known.  Elizabeth,  the 
second  daughter,  became  the  wife  of  John  de  la  Pole,  Duke 
of  Suffolk,  and  lived  to  see  her  son,  the  second  Duke, 
decapitated  on  Tower  Hill  for  his  attachment  to  the  House 
of  York.  Lastly,  her  third  daughter,  Margaret,  married 
Charles,  Duke  of  Burgundy.  This  lady's  persevering  hos- 
tility to  Henry  the  Seventh,  and  open  support  of  the  claims 
of  Perkin  Warbeck,  believing  him  to  be  the  last  male  heir 
of  the  House  of  Plantagenet,  have  rendered  her  name  con- 
spicuous in  history. 

Between  Paul's  Wharf  and  Puddle  Dock,  under  the 
shadow  of  the  great  cathedral  of  St.  Paul's,  stood  anciently, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  Baynard's  Castle,  endeared  to 
us  by  the  magic  genius  of  Shakspeare,  and  associated  with 
some  of  the  most  stirring  scenes  in  the  history  of  our  country. 
Baynard's  Castle  derives  its  name  from  its  founder,  one  of 

16—2 


244  BAYNARD'S  CASTLE. 

the  Norman  Barons  who  accompanied  William  the  Con- 
queror to  England,  and  by  one  of  whose  descendants,  William 
Baynard,  it  was  forfeited  in  1111.  Henry  the  First  bestowed 
it  on  Eobert  Fitzwalter,  fifth  son  of  Richard  Earl  of  Clare, 
in  whose  family  the  office  of  Castellan,  and  standard- 
bearer  to  the  city  of  London  became  hereditary.  His  imme- 
diate descendant  was  Robert  Fitzwalter,  whose  daughter, 
the  beautiful  Matilda,  King  John  attempted  to  corrupt. 
Fitzwalter,  to  avenge  the  affront  offered  to  his  race,  subse- 
quently acted  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  wars  waged  against 
the  King  by  his  Barons.  "  The  primary  occasion  of  these 
discontents,"  writes  Dugdale,  "  is  by  some  thus  reported : 
that  this  Robert  Fitzwalter,  having  a  very  beautiful  daugh- 
ter, called  Maude,  residing  at  Dunmow,  the  King  frequently 
solicited  her  chastity,  but  never  prevailing,  grew  so  enraged 
that  he  caused  her  to  be  privately  poisoned  :  and  that  she  was 
buried  at  the  south  side  of  the  choir  at  Dunmow  [in  Essex], 
between  two  pillars  there."  To  punish  the  rebellion  of  Fitz- 
walter, the  King  caused  "  his  house,  called  Baynard's  Castle,  in 
the  city  of  London,"  to  be  razed  to  the  ground.  Fitzwalter, 
however,  is  said  to  have  subsequently  made  his  peace  with 
King  John,  by  the  extraordinary  valour  which  he  displayed 
at  a  tournament  in  the  presence  of  the  King  of  France. 
King  John,  struck  with  admiration  at  his  prowess,  is  said 
to  have  exclaimed,  "  By  God's  tooth,  he  deserves  to  be  a 
King  who  hath  such  a  soldier  in  his  train."  Ascertaining 
the  name  of  the  chivalrous  knight, — for  his  features  were 
concealed  by  his  closed  vizor, — the  King  immediately  sent 
for  him,  restored  him  to  his  barony,  and  subsequently  gave 
him  permission  to  repair  his  castle  of  Baynard. 

Baynard's  Castle  was  almost  entirely  destroyed  by  fire  in 
1428,  shortly  after  which  period  it  was  rebuilt  by  Humphrey 
Plantagenet,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  on  whose  attainder  it  again 


BAYNARD'S  CASTLE.  245 

reverted  to  the  Crown.  The  next  occupant  was  Richard 
Plantagenet,  Duke  of  York,  who  maintained  no  fewer  than 
four  hundred  followers  within  its  walls,  and  who  carried  on 
here  his  ambitious  projects  against  the  government  of 
Henry  the  Sixth.  After  his  death  at  the  battle  of  Wake- 
field,  Baynard's  Castle  descended  by  inheritance  to  his 
gallant  son,  the  Earl  of  March,  afterwards  Edward  the 
Fourth.  When,  in  1460,  the  young  Prince  entered  London 
with  the  King-maker  Warwick,  we  find  him  taking  up  his 
abode  in  his  paternal  mansion,  and  it  was  within  its  princely 
hall  that  he  assumed  the  title  of  Bang,  and  summoned  the 
bishops,  peers,  and  magistrates  in  and  about  London  to 
attend  him  in  council. 

In  the  garden  of  Baynard's  Castle,  Shakspeare  places  the 
secret  interview  between  the  Duke  of  York  and  the  Earls 
of  Salisbury  and  Warwick,  in  which  the  two  latter  acknow- 
ledged him  as  their  rightful  sovereign,  and  came  to  the 
determination  to  appeal  to  arms  to  enforce  his  claims — 

"  York.  Now,  my  good  lords  of  Salisbury  and  Warwick, 
Our  simple  supper  ended,  give  me  leave, 
In  this  close  walk  to  satisfy  myself, 
In  craving  your  opinion  of  my  title, 
Which  is  infallible,  to  England's  crown. 

*  *  *  *  * 

War.  What  plain  proceeding  is  more  plain  than  this  ? 
Henry  doth  claim  the  crown  from  John  of  Gaunt, 
The  fourth  son  ;  York  claims  it  from  the  third. 
Till  Lionel's  issue  fails,  his  should  not  reign  : 
It  fails  not  yet ;  but  nourishes  in  thee 
And  in  thy  sons,  fair  slips  of  such  a  stock. 
Then,  father  Salisbury,  kneel  we  together  ; 
And  in  this  private  plot  be  we  the  first 
That  shall  salute  our  rightful  sovereign 
With  honour  of  his  birthright  to  the  crown." 

King  Henry  VI.,  part  2,  act  ii.,  sc.  2. 

Shortly  after  his  accession  to  the  throne,  Edward  the 
Fourth  appears  to  have  conferred  Baynard's  Castle  upon  his 


246  RICHARD  III.  AT  BAYNARD'S  CASTLE. 

widowed  mother,  Cicely  Neville,  Duchess  of  York.  Hither, 
for  security  he  brought  his  wife  and  children  from  their  pri- 
son-sanctuary at  Westminster  in  April,  1471.  Here  he  slept 
that  night,  and  the  next  day  kept  Good  Friday  with  proper 
solemnity.  Two  days  afterwards,  on  Easter  Sunday,  he 
defeated  Warwick  at  the  battle  of  Barnet.  Here,  under  his 
mother's  roof,  Richard  Duke  of  Gloucester  held  his  councils 
in  the  interval  between  his  brother's  death  and  his  own 
usurpation  of  the  supreme  authority,  and  here  he  was  waited 
upon  by  his  creature  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  and  the 
citizens  who  vociferously  called  upon  him  to  assume  the 
crown.  Shakspeare  has  again  thrown  an  undying  interest 
over  the  site  of  Baynard's  Castle.  Richard,  with  great 
apparent  reluctance,  presents  himself  at  a  gallery  above, 
supported  by  a  bishop  on  each  side  of  him  : — 

"  Glouc.  Alas     why  would  you  heap  this  care  on  me  ? 

I  am  unfit  for  state  and  majesty  ; 

I  do  beseech  you,  take  it  not  amiss  ; 

I  cannot  nor  I  will  not  yield  to  you. 
Buck.  If  you  refuse  it, — as  in  love  and  zeal, 

Loth  to  depose  the  child,  your  brother's  son  ; 

As  well  we  know  your  tenderness  of  heart 

And  gentle,  kind,  effeminate  remorse, 

Which  we  have  noted  in  you  to  your  kindred, 

And  equally,  indeed,  to  all  estates, — 

Yet  know,  whe'r  you  accept  our  suit  or  no, 

Your  brother's  son  shall  never  reign  our  king  ; 

But  we  will  plant  some  other  in  the  throne, 

To  the  disgrace  and  downfal  of  yoiir  house  : 

And  in  this  resolution  here  we  leave  you. — 

Come,  citizens,  we  will  entreat  no  more. 

[Exeunt  Buckingham  and  Citizens. 

Catesby.  Call  them  again,  sweet  prince  ;  accept  their  suit ; 

If  you  deny  them,  all  the  land  will  rue  it. 
Glouc.  Will  you  enforce  me  to  a  world  of  cares  ? 

Call  them  again.     I  am  not  made  of  stone, 

But  penetrable  to  your  kind  entreaties.  [Exit  Catesby. 

Albeit  against  my  conscience  and  my  soul. 

[Re-enter  Buckingham  and  the  rest. 


PROCESSION  OF  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.          247 

Cousin  of  Buckingham,  and  sage  grave  men, 

Since  you  will  buckle  fortune  on  my  back, 

To  bear  the  burthen,  whether  I  will  or  no, 

I  must  have  patience  to  endure  the  load  : 

And  if  black  scandal  or  foul-fac'd  reproach 

Attend  the  sequel  of  your  imposition, 

Your  mere  enforcement  shall  acquittance  me 

From  all  the  impure  blots  and  stains  thereof ; 

For  God  doth  know,  and  you  may  partly  see, 

How  far  I  am  from  the  desire. 

Mayor.  God  bless  your  grace  !  we  see  it,  and  will  say  it. 
Glouc.  In  saying  so  you  shall  but  say  the  truth. 
Buck.  Then  I  salute  you  with  this  royal  title, — 

Long  live  King  Richard,  England's  worthy  king  !" 

Kiny  Richard  III.,  act  iii.,  sc.  7. 

It  was  in  the  "high  chamber  next  the  chapel,  in  the 
dwelling  of  Cicely  Duchess  of  York,  called  Baynard's  Castle, 
Thames  Street,"  that,  on  the  day  of  Richard's  coronation,  the 
Great  Seal  was  surrendered  into  his  hands. 

Henry  the  Seventh  frequently  resided  in  Baynard's  Castle 
after  his  accession  to  the  throne  ;  indeed,  he  would  seem  to 
have  been  extremely  partial  to  the  spot,  inasmuch  as  we  find 
him,  in  1501,  almost  entirely  rebuilding  it ;  "  not  embattled, 
nor  so  strongly  fortified,  castle-like,  but  far  more  beautiful 
and  commodious,  for  the  entertainment  of  any  prince  or 
great  estate."  Here  he  received  the  ambassadors  from  the 
King  of  the  Romans,  and  here  he  lodged  Philip  of  Austria 
during  his  visit  to  this  country. 

Shortly  after  the  marriage  of  Prince  Henry,  afterwards 
Henry  the  Eighth,  with  Catherine  of  Aragon,  we  find  them 
conducted  by  water  in  great  state  from  Baynard's  Castle  to 
the  royal  palace  at  Westminster.  "  The  Mayor  and  Com- 
monalty of  London,"  says  Hall,  "  in  barges  garnished  with 
standards,  streamers,  and  penons  of  their  device,  gave  them 
their  attendance  :  and  there,  in  the  palace,  were  such  martial 
feats,  such  valiant  jousts,  such  vigorous  tourneys,  such  fierce 
fight  at  the  barriers,  as  before  that  time  was  of  no  man  had 


248          WILLIAM,  FIRST  EARL  OF  PEMBROKE. 

in  remembrance.  Of  this  royal  triumph,  Lord  Edward,  Duke- 
of  Buckingham,  was  chief  challenger,  and  Lord  Thomas 
Grey,  Marquis  of  Dorset,  was  chief  defender ;  which,  with 
their  aids  and  companions,  bare  themselves  so  valiantly,  that 
they  obtained  great  laud  and  honour." 

In  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  Baynard's  Castle  became 
the  residence  of  Sir  William  Sydney,  Chamberlain  to  the 
youthful  monarch.  In  the  same  reign  it  passed  into  the 
hands  of  William  Herbert,  first  Earl  of  Pembroke,  who 
lived  here  in  a  style  of  extraordinary  magnificence,  and 
whose  Countess,  Anne,  sister  of  Queen  Catherine  Parr, 
breathed  her  last  here  in  1551.  At  Baynard's  Castle  her 
lord  was  residing  at  the  time  of  Bang  Edward's  death,  on 
which  occasion,  notwithstanding  the  proverbial  wariness  of 
his  character,  he  was  induced  to  sign  the  famous  document 
acknowledging  the  claims  of  Lady  Jane  Grey.  He  soon, 
however,  repented  of  the  step  which  he  had  taken,  and  was 
one  of  the  first  to  leave  the  beautiful  and  accomplished 
maiden  to  her  melancholy  fate,  and  to  proclaim  his  legiti- 
mate sovereign,  Queen  Mary.  Active  in  his  loyalty,  as  he 
had  been  in  his  treason,  he  assembled  the  partizans  of  roy- 
alty under  his  roof  in  Baynard's  Castle,  and  it  was  from  under 
its  portal  that  they  sallied  forth  to  proclaim  the  title  of 
Queen  Mary  to  the  throne. 

The  Earl  figured  in  all  the  Court  pageants  of  the  time. 
He  was  selected  to  wait  on  King  Philip  on  his  landing  at 
Portsmouth  ;  was  present  at  his  marriage  with  Queen  Mary 
at  Winchester,  in  1564,  and  three  months  afterwards,  on  the 
occasion  of  the  assembling  of  the  first  Parliament  under  the 
new  King  and  Queen,  he  proceeded,  on  entering  London,  to 
his  mansion  of  Baynard's  Castle,  followed  by  "  a  retinue  of 
two  thousand  horsemen  in  velvet  coats,  with  three  laces  of 
gold  and  gold  chains,  besides  sixty  gentlemen  in  blue  coats, 


SINGULAR  PREDICTIONS.  249 

with  his  badge  of  the  green  dragon."  The  Earl  survived  to 
figure  at  the  coronation  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  who  appointed 
him  her  Master  of  the  Horse,  and  011  one  occasion  did  him 
the  honour  to  sup  with  him  at  Baynard's  Castle.  At  ten 
o'clock  at  night,  after  having  partaken  of  a  sumptuous  enter- 
tainment, he  handed  his  royal  mistress  by  torchlight  to  the 
river-side,  where  she  entered  her  state  barge  to  the  sound  of 
music,  and  amidst  the  blaze  of  fireworks  ;  and  thus  returned 
to  Whitehall,  surrounded  by  a  swarm  of  attendant  boats, 
and  cheered  by  the  acclamations  of  the  loyal  citizens  of 
London. 

The  successor  of  Earl  William  in  the  occupancy  of  Bay- 
nard's Castle,  was  his  son  Henry,  the  second  Earl,  who 
resided  here  with  his  Countess, — "  Sydney's  sister,  Pem- 
broke's mother."  Here  also  resided  their  accomplished  and 
high-minded  son,  William,  the  third  Earl,  who  united  wit 
and  gallantry  with  integrity  and  the  most  refined  taste — 
the  most  courtly  breeding  with  the  kindest  nature.  The 
death  of  Earl  William  took  place  in  Baynard's  Castle,  on  the 
10th  of  April,  1630,  and  was  attended  by  some  rather  re- 
markable circumstances.  It  had  been  foretold  by  his  tutor, 
Sandford,  and  also  by  the  mad  prophetess,  Lady  Davies, 
whose  predictions  caused  Archbishop  Laud  so  much  discom- 
fort, that  he  either  would  not  complete,  or  would  die  on  the 
anniversary  of,  his  fiftieth  birthday.  That  these  predictions 
were  actually  fulfilled,  appears  by  the  following  curious  pas- 
sage in  Lord  Clarendon's  "  History  of  the  Kebellion."  "  A 
short  story  may  not  be  unfitly  inserted  ;  it  being  frequently 
mentioned  by  a  person  of  known  integrity,  who,  at  that 
time,  being  on  his  way  to  London,  met  at  Maidenhead  some 
persons  of  quality— of  relation  or  dependence  upon  the  Earl 
of  Pembroke.  At  supper  one  of  them  drank  a  health  to  the 
Lord  Steward ;  upon  which  another  of  them  said,  that  he 


250  PUDDLE  DOCK. 


believed  his  lord  was  at  that  time  very  merry,  for  he  had 
now  outlived  the  day  which  his  tutor  Sandford  had  prognos- 
ticated upon  his  nativity  that  he  would  not  outlive ;  but  he 
had  done  it  now,  for  that  was  his  birthday,  which  had  com- 
pleted his  age  to  fifty  years.  The  next  morning,  by  the 
time  they  came  to  Colebrook,  they  met  with  the  news  of  his 
death."  The  Earl,  it  appears,  had  engaged  himself  to  sup 
with  the  Countess  of  Bedford,  at  whose  table,  on  the  fatal 
day,  he  not, only  appeared  to  be  in  excellent  health  and 
spirits,  but  remarked  that  he  would  never  again  trust  a 
woman's  prophecy.  A  few  hours  afterwards  he  was  attacked 
by  apoplexy,  and  died  during  the  night.  Granger,  to  make 
the  story  more  remarkable,  relates  that  when  the  Earl's 
body  was  opened  in  order  to  be  embalmed,  the  first  incision, 
was  no  sooner  made,  than  the  corpse  lifted  up  its  hand,  to 
the  great  terror  of  those  who  witnessed  the  phenomenon. 

The  last  of  our  sovereigns  whose  name  is  associated  with 
Baynard's  Castle  was  Charles  the  Second,  in  whose  company 
we  find  the  first  Earl  of  Sandwich  supping  here  on  the  19th 
of  June,  1660.  "  My  lord,"  writes  Pepys  on  that  day,  "  went 
at  night  with  the  King  to  Baynard's  Castle  to  supper ;"  and 
again,  on  the  following  day,  Pepys  writes — "  With  my  lord, 
who  lay  long  in  bed  this  day,  because  he  came  home  late 
from  supper  with  the  King." 

Baynard's  Castle  was  destroyed  in  the  great  fire.  Its 
name,  however,  is  still  preserved  in  Baynard  Castle  Ward. 

Westward  of  the  site  of  Baynard's  Castle  is  Puddle  Dock, 
which  doubtless  derives  its  name  from  one  "  Puddle,"  whom 
Stow  incidentally  mentions  as  having  kept  a  wharf  in  this 
neighbourhood. 

"  — Puddle  Wharf, 

Which  place  we'll  make  bold  with  to  call  it  our  Abydos, 
As  the  Bankside  is  our  Sestos." 

BEN  JONSON'S  Bartholomew  Fair. 


SIIAKSPEARE'S  HOUSE.  251 

The  spot  is  interesting  as  pointing  out  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  house  purchased  by  Shakspeare,  and  bequeathed  by 
him  by  will  to  his  daughter,  Susannah  Hall.  The  "  Con- 
veyance" describes  it  as  "  abutting  upon  a  streete  leading 
down  to  Puddle  Wharffe  on  the  east  part,  right  against 
the  King's  Maiestie's  Wardrobe ;"  being  "  now  or  late  in  the 
tenure  or  occupacon  of  one  William  Ireland."  To  Mr.  Cun- 
ningham we  are  indebted  for  pointing  out  the  circumstance 
that  "there  is  still  an  Ireland  Yard."*  Shakspeare,  in  his 
will,  describes  the  house  as  "  situat  lying  and  being  in  the 
Blackfriers  in  London,  nere  the  Wardrobe."  Ireland  Yard 
is  on  the  west  side  of  St.  Andrew's  Hill,  and  Wardrobe  Place 
points  out  the  site  of  the  Wardrobe  here  referred  to. 

To  the  westward  of  Baynard's  Castle  stood  the  Castle  of 
Montfichet,  founded  by  Gilbert  de  Montfichet,  or  Montfiquit, 
a  relative  of  William  the  Conqueror,  whom  he  accompanied 
to  England,  and  with  whom  he  fought  side  by  side  at  the 
battle  of  Hastings.  It  was  demolished  by  order  of  King 
John  in  1213,  and  its  materials  appropriated  to  the  erection 
of  the  neighbouring  monastery  of  the  Black  Friars.  Close 
by,  nearly  on  the  site  of  the  present  Puddle  Dock,  stood  the 
ancient  residence  of  the  Lords  Berkeley,  and  afterwards, 
temporarily,  of  the  great "  king-maker,"  the  Earl  of  Warwick. 

In  the  days  of  the  Plantagenets — when  the  sovereigns  of 
England  held  their  court  indiscriminately  in  the  palaces  of 
Bridewell,  Westminster,  and  the  Tower — the  banks  of  the 
Thames,  between  the  latter  fortress  and  the  Temple,  appear 
to  have  been  principally  occupied  by  the  splendid  mansions 
and  gardens  of  the  nobility.  But  by  the  time  that  Eliza- 
beth ascended  the  throne,  and  when  Whitehall  had  become 
the  fixed  residence  of  the  court,  the  tide  of  fashion  began 
to  flow  in  a  more  westwardly  direction,  when  there  arose 
*  "  Handbook  of  London,"  Art.  Ireland  Yard. 


252          MONASTERY  OF  THE  SLACK  FRIARS. 

those  splendid  water-palaces  between  the  Temple  and 
Whitehall,  which  have  given  names  to  so  many  of  the 
streets  in  the  Strand.  In  addition  to  the  mansions  we  have 
already  recorded  as  having  stood  in  the  immediate  vicinity 
of  Paul's  Wharf,  may  be  mentioned  the  messuage  of  the 
Abbots  of  Fescamp,  in  Normandy,  situated  between  the 
wharf  and  Baynard's  Castle — Scrope's  Inn,  the  abode  of  the 
powerful  family  of  the  Scropes  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the 
Sixth — and  Beaumont  Inn,  the  residence  of  the  noble  family 
of  the  Beaumonts  in  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Third,  and 
afterwards  of  Lord  Hastings,  the  ill-fated  favourite  of  Ed- 
ward the  Fourth.  From  Lord  Hastings  Beaumont  Inn 
passed  into  the  possession  of  his  descendants,  the  Earls  of 
Huntingdon,  whose  town  residence  it  was  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  the  Eighth,  from  which  time  its  name  changed  to 
Huntingdon  House. 

Immediately  to  the  east  of  Blackfriars  Bridge  stood  the 
great  monastery  of  the  Black  Friars,  who  removed  from 
Holborn  to  this  spot  in  the  year  1276.  This  house,  which, 
with  its  gardens  and  precincts,  covered  a  vast  space  of 
ground,  had  its  four  gates  and  its  sanctuary,  and  could  also 
boast  of  one  of  the  most  magnificent  churches  in  the  metro- 
polis. Several  Parliaments  were  held  in  the  monastery  of 
the  Black  Friars  in  the  reigns  of  Henry  the  Sixth  and 
Henry  the  Eighth ;  one  of  the  last  and  most  remarkable 
having  been  that  which  voted  the  charges  against  Wolsey, 
and  prayed  for  the  condign  punishment  of  the  Cardinal. 

In  ancient  times,  the  splendid  church  of  the  Black  Friars 
appears  to  have  been  one  of  the  chief  burial-places  of  the  great. 
Among  other  illustrious  persons  whose  names  bear  our 
imaginations  back  to  the  ages  of  chivalry,  here  reposed  the 
ashes  of  the  great  Justiciary  of  England,  Hubert  de  Burgh, 
Earl  of  Kent,  and  of  his  wife,  Margaret,  daughter  of  Wil- 


REPUDIATION  OF  QUEEN  CATHERINE.         253 

liam,  King  of  Scotland.  Here  were  preserved  the  heart  of 
Eleanor  of  Castile,  the  beautiful  and  devoted  queen  of  Ed- 
ward the  First,  and  that  of  her  son  Alphonso — the  remains 
of  John  of  Eltham,  Duke  of  Cornwall,  brother  of  Edward 
the  Third — of  the  accomplished  and  ill-fated  John  Tiptoft, 
Earl  of  Worcester,  beheaded  in  1470 — of  James  Touchet, 
Earl  of  Audley,  beheaded  in  1497 — of  Sir  Thomas  Brandon, 
Knight  of  the  Garter,  uncle  of  the  high-bred  and  chivalrous 
Charles  Brandon,  Duke  of  Suffolk — of  William  Courtenay, 
Earl  of  Devonshire — of  Sir  Thomas  Parr  and  his  wife,  the 
parents  of  Queen  Catherine  Parr,  besides  numerous  other 
persons  of  high  birth  and  princely  fortunes. 

The  monastery  of  the  Black  Friars  is  associated  with  one 
of  the  most  interesting  domestic  events  in  the  history  of 
our  country — the  repudiation  by  Henry  the  Eighth  of 
Catherine  of  Aragon ;  that  virtuous  and  pure-minded 
woman  who  had  loved  him  through  good  repute  and  ill 
repute — the  only  being,  perhaps,  in  his  dominions  who  was 
attached  to  him  from  purely  disinterested  motives, — 

"  That,  like  a  jewel,  has  hung  twenty  years 
About  his  neck,  yet  never  lost  her  lustre  ; 
Of  her  that  loves  him  with  that  excellence, 
That  angels  love  good  men  with. " 

King  Henry  VIII.,  act  ii.,  sc.  2. 

The  legates,  nominated  by  the  Pope  to  decide  on  the 
legality  of  Henry's  marriage,  were  Cardinals  Campeggio  and 
Wolsey,  who  opened  their  court  with  great  state  and  cere- 
mony in  the  hall  of  the  Black  Friars,  on  the  31st  of  May, 
1529.  King  Henry  and  his  consort  were  both  present;  the 
King  taking  his  seat  on  the  right  of  the  legates,  and  the 
Queen,  attended  by  four  bishops,  on  their  left.  Their  names 
having  been  called  by  the  usual  formalities,  Henry  answered 
to  his,  but  Catherine  remained  silent.  Having  again,  how- 


254         REPUDIATION  OF  QUEEN  CATHERINE. 

ever,  been  cited  to  answer  to  her  name,  she  suddenly  rose 
from  her  seat,  and  throwing  herself  at  the  King's  feet,  im- 
plored him,  in  language  equally  dignified  and  touching,  to 
remember  that  she  was  the  wife  of  his  choice, — a  friendless 
stranger  in  a  foreign  land.  "  Sir,"  she  exclaimed  with 
pathetic  eloquence, — "  I  beseech  you  for  all  the  love  that 
hath  been  between  us,  and  for  the  love  of  God,  let  me  have 
justice  and  right :  take  of  me  some  pity  and  compassion, 
for  I  am  a  poor  woman  and  a  stranger,  born  out  of  your 
dominions.  I  have  here  no  assured  friend,  much  less  im- 
partial counsel ;  and  I  flee  to  you  as  to  the  head  of  justice 
within  this  realm.  Alas  !  sir,  wherein  have  I  offended  you, 
or  on  what  occasion  given  you  displeasure  ?  Have  I  ever 
designed  against  your  will  and  pleasure,  that  you  should 
put  me  from  you  ?  I  take  God  and  all  the  world  to  wit- 
ness, that  I  have  been  to  you  a  true,  humble,  and  obedient 
wife,  ever  conformable  to  your  will  and  pleasure." 

"Alas  !  sir, 

In  what  have  I  offended  you  ?  what  cause 
Hath  my  behaviour  given  to  your  displeasure, 
That  thus  you  should  proceed  to  put  me  off, 
And  take  your  grace  from  me  ?    Heaven  witness 
I  have  been  to  you  a  true  and  humble  wife, 
At  all  times  to  your  will  conformable  ; 
Ever  in  fear  to  kindle  your  dislike, 
Yea,  subject  to  your  coiuitenance,  glad  or  sorry 
As  I  saw  it  inclined  :  when  was  the  hour 
I  ever  contradicted  your  desire, 
Or  made  it  not  mine  too  ?    Or  which  of  yoiir  friends 
Have  I  not  strove  to  love,  although  I  knew 
He  were  mine  enemy  ?  what  friend  of  mine 
That  had  to  him  derived  your  anger,  did  I 
Continue  in  my  liking  ?  nay,  gave  notice 
He  was  from  thence  discharged  ?    Sir,  call  to  mind 
That  I  have  been  your  wife,  in  this  obedience, 
"Upward  of  twenty  years,  and  have  been  blest 
With  many  children  by  you  ;  if,  in  the  course 
And  process  of  this  time,  you  can  report, 
And  prove  it  too,  against  mine  honour  aught, 


Q  VEEN  ELIZABETH  A  T  GOBI! AM  HO  USE.         255 

My  bond  to  wedlock,  or  my  love  and  duty, 
Against  your  sacred  person,  in  God's  name, 
Turn  me  away  ;  and  let  the  foul'st  contempt 
Shut  door  upon  me,  and  so  give  me  up 
To  the  sharp'st  kind  of  justice." 

King  Henry  VIII.,  act  ii.,  sc.  4. 

The  decree  of  divorce  was  passed  in  1533.  The  unfortu- 
nate Queen  retired  to  Kimbolton,  where  she  died  of  a 
broken  heart  on  the  8th  of  January,  1536  ;  insisting  to  the 
last  on  retaining  her  title  of  Queen,  and  denouncing  the 
edict  which  sought  to  render  her  name  a  tainted  one,  and  to 
deprive  her  child  of  its  title  to  legitimacy. 

In  1538,  the  monastery  of  the  Black  Friars,  sharing  the 
fate  of  the  other  religious  houses,  was  surrendered  to  the 
King.  In  1547,  we  find  Sir  Francis  Bryan  receiving  a  grant 
of  the  prior's  lodging  and  the  hall.  Within  a  few  years,  the 
greater  remaining  portion  of  the  buildings  was  swept  away, 
and  many  fair  mansions  and  gardens  rose  on  its  site. 
Among  these  may  be  mentioned  the  residences  of  the 
French  Ambassador ;  of  Lord  Herbert,  the  eldest  son  of 
Edward  Earl  of  Worcester ;  and  of  the  unfortunate  Henry 
Brooke,  Lord  Cobham.  In  1600 — on  the  occasion  of  the 
marriage  of  Lord  Herbert  with  Anne,  only  daughter  of  John 
Lord  Russell — we  find  Queen  Elizabeth  honouring  the  nup- 
tials with  her  presence.  On  her  landing  at  Blackfriars  she 
was  received  by  a  gallant  company,  including  the  bride,  by 
whom  she  was  carried  in  a  kind  of  litter,  supported  by  six 
knights,  to  the  residence  of  the  bridegroom,  where  she 
dined.  The  same  night  she  supped  with  Lord  Cobham  at 
his  house  in  Blackfriars,  passing  in  her  way  by  the  house  of 
"  Doctor  Puddin,"  who  came  forth  and  presented  her  with  a 
fan,  which  she  graciously  accepted.  Elizabeth  was  at  this 
period  a  wrinkled  queen  of  sixty-three — "  old  and  cankered," 
to  use  the  words  of  Essex — and  accordingly  it  is  not  a  little 


256  THE  FATAL  VESPERS. 

carious  to  find  her  acting  the  part  of  a  girl  of  eighteen  in 
the  gay  frivolities  with  which  she  was  entertained  at  Cob- 
ham  House.  According  to  the  "  Sydney  Papers,"  "  there  was 
a  memorable  masque  of  eight  ladies,  and  a  strange  dance 
new  invented.  Their  attire  was  this :  each  had  a  skirt  of 
cloth  of  silver ;  a  rich  waistcoat  wrought  with  silk,  and  gold 
and  silver ;  a  mantle  of  carnation  taffeta,  cast  under  the  arm; 
and  their  hair  loose  about  the  shoulders,  curiously  knotted 
and  interlaced.  Mistress  Fitton  led :  these  eight  lady- 
maskers  chose  eight  ladies  more  to  dance  the  measures. 
Mrs.  Fitton  went  to  the  Queen,  and  wooed  her  to  dance : 
her  Majesty  asked  what  she  was  ?  Affection,  she  said. 
Affection !  said  the  Queen,  Affection  is  false !  Yet  her 
Majesty  rose  up  and  danced."  This  entertainment  took 
place  only  a  few  months  before  she  signed  the  death- 
warrant  of  her  beloved  Essex,  whose  conduct  towards  her 
was  probably  then  rankling  in  her  heart. 

In  the  following  reign,  on  the  26th  of  October,  1623,  there 
occurred  in  Blackfriars,  in  the  house  of  Count  de  Tillier, 
the  French  Ambassador,  a  frightful  accident,  which  the  Pro- 
testants chose  to  regard  as  a  judgment  from  heaven  to 
punish  the  idolatry  of  the  Roman  Catholics.*  A-  vast 
number  of  persons  were  assembled  in  an  upper  story,  listen- 
ing to  the  oratory  of  a  famous  Jesuit  preacher,  Father  Drury, 
when  suddenly  the  floor  gave  way,  and  nearly  one  hundred 
persons,  including  the  preacher,  were  crushed  to  death. 
The  accident  long  retained  the  name  of  the  "  Fatal  Vespers." 
According  to  the  account  of  an  eye-witness,  one  Dr.  Gouge, 
"  On  the  Lord's  day,  at  night,  when  they  fell,  there  were 
numbered  ninety-one  dead  bodies ;  but  many  of  them  were 
secretly  conveyed  away  in  the  night,  there  being  a  pair  of 

*  This  house  was  called  Hunsdon  House,  from  its  having  been  the  resi- 
dence of  Henry  Carey,  Baron  Hunsdon,  first  cousin  to  Queen  Elizabeth. 


RESIDENTS  OF  BLACKFRIARS.  257 

water-stairs,  leading  from  the  garden  appertaining  unto  the 
house  to  the  Thames.  Of  those  that  were  carried  away, 
some  were  buried  in  a  burial-place  within  the  Spanish  Am- 
bassador's house  in  Holborn,  amongst  whom,  the  Lady  Webb 
was  one,  the  Lady  Blackstone's  daughter  another,  and  one 
Mistress  Udal  a  third.  The  bodies  of  many  others  were 
claimed  and  carried  away  by  their  relatives  and  friends. 
For  the  corpses  remaining,"  adds  Dr.  Gouge,  "  two  great  pits 
were  digged,  one  in  the  fore-court  of  the  said  ambassa- 
dor's house,  eighteen  feet  long  and  twelve  feet  broad ;  the 
other  in  the  garden  behind  the  house,  twelve  feet  long,  and 
eight  feet  broad.  In  the  former  pit  were  laid  forty-four 
corpses,  whereof  the  bodies  of  Father  Drury  and  Father 
Redyate  were  two.  These  two,  wound  up  in  sheets,  were 
first  laid  into  the  pit,  with  a  partition  of  loose  earth  to 
separate  them  from  the  rest."* 

In  1680,  we  find  the  celebrated  engraver,  William  Faith  - 
orne,  quitting  his  shop  opposite  the  Palsgrave  Head  Tavern, 
without  Temple  Bar,  and  retiring  "  to  a  more  private  life," 
in  Printing-house  Yard,  Blackfriars,  where  he  died  in  1691. 
Here  also  resided  three  celebrated  painters :  Isaac  Oliver,^ 
Cornelius  Jansen,  and  Anthony  Vandyke.  Oliver  and  Van- 
dyke both  breathed  their  last  in  Blackfriars.  Ben  Jonson 
was  residing  in  Blackfriars  in  1607,  and  here  he  has  laid 
the  scene  of  the  "  Alchymist." 

*  "  The  Fatal  Vespers,  a  true  and  full  Narrative  of  that  signal  judgment 
of  God  upon  the  Papists,  by  the  fall  of  the  house  in  Blackfriars,  London, 
upon  the  5th  of  November,  1623."  By  the  Rev.  Samuel  Clark. 

t  Oliver  was  buried  in  the  neighbouring  church  of  St.  Anne,  Blackfriars, 
which  was  destroyed  in  the  great  fire  and  was  not  rebuilt.  Its  site,  how- 
ever, is  marked  by  the  old  burying-ground,  which  may  be  seen  in  Church 
Entry,  Ireland  Yard.  "The  parish  register  records  the  burials  of  Isaac 
Oliver,  the  miniature  painter  (1617)  ;  Dick  Robinson,  the  player  (1647)  ; 
Nat.  Field,  the  poet  and  player  (1632-3) ;  William  Faithorne,  the  engraver 

VOL.  II.  17 


258  BLACKFRIARS1  THEATRE. 

The  infamous  Earl  and  Countess  of  Somerset,  at  the  time 
when  they  were  plotting,  and  accomplished  the  murder  of 
Sir  Thomas  Overbury,  were  residing  in  Blackfriars. 

In  Blackfriars  stood  the  famous  Theatre  which  bears  its 
name.  It  was  built  in  1576,  by  James  Burbage,  and  in 
1596  was  either  rebuilt  or  enlarged,  when  Shakspeare  and 
Richard  Burbage  were  joint  sharers.  The  site  of  it  is  still 
pointed  out  by  Playhouse  Yard,  close  to  Apothecaries'  Hall. 
The  theatre  in  Blackfriars  was  pulled  down  during  the  rule 
of  the  Puritans,  on  the  6th  of  August,  1655. 

The  foundation  stone  of  the  first  Blackfriars  Bridge,  the 
work  of  Robert  Mylne,  a  Scotch  architect,  was  laid  on  the 
31st  of  October,  1760.  It  was  originally  called  Pitt's  Bridge, 
in  honour  of  the  great  War  Minister,  William  Pitt,  Earl  of 
Chatham,  at  this  time  in  the  height  of  his  great  and  de- 
served popularity. 

Blackfriars  Bridge  is  memorable  as  having  been  one  of 
the  principal  scenes  of  outrage,  riot,  and  carnage  during 
the  famous  Protestant  outbreak  fomented  by  Lord  George 
Gordon.  On  the  frightful  scenes  of  pillage  and  conflagra- 
tion which  occurred  during  the  three  days  that  the  populace 
were  permitted  to  be  masters  of  the  metropolis,  it  is  unne- 
cessary to  dwell.  At  length,  however,  the  military  received 
definite  orders  to  act,  and  London  was  saved  in  the  eleventh 
hour.  The  principal  scenes  of  slaughter  were  at  the  Bank 


(1691)  ;  and  the  following  interesting  entries  relating  to  Vandyke,  who  lived 
and  died  in  this  parish,  leaving  a  sum  of  money  m  his  will  to  its  poor  : — 

"Jasper  Lanf  ranch,  a  Dutchman,  from  Sir  Anthony  Vandikes,  buried 
14th  February,  1638. 

"Martin  Ashent,  Sir  Anthony  Vandike's  man,  buried  12th  March, 
1638. 

"Justinian,  daughter  to  Sir  Anthony  Vandyke  and  his  lady,  baptized 
9th  December,  1641." — Cunningham's  Handbook  of  London  ;  Art.  Anne  (St.) 
Blackfriars. 


GORDON  RIOTS.  259 


and  Blackfriars  Bridge.  Whether  by  accident  or  by  design, 
the  military  drove  the  rabble  before  them  along  Farringdon 
Street  and  Bridge  Street,  till  the  bridge  was  completely 
blocked  up  by  them ;  while  at  the  same  time  another  body 
of  soldiers  hemmed  them  in  on  the  Southwark  side  of  the 
river.  The  conflict  was  brief,  and  the  result  terrible.  Of 
the  numbers  who  perished,  of  that  compressed  and  lawless 
mass  of  human  beings,  no  record  was  ever  sought  for  or  de- 
manded. Many  were  forced  over  the  parapets  of  the  bridge 
into  the  river ;  many  were  crushed  to  death  ;  and  still  more 
perished  by  the  bayonet  and  the  bullet.  The  conflict  and 
the  carnage  occupied  an  almost  incredibly  short  space  of 
time.  Within  an  hour  or  two  afterwards,  the  dying  and  the 
dead  had  been  carried  away,  the  great  city  had  resumed  its 
wonted  calmness,  and  when  day  dawned,  there  remained  but 
one  fearful  evidence  of  the  contest  of  the  preceding  night — 
the  causeway  of  the  bridge  was  actually  soaked  and  red  with 
blood  ! 

Immediately  to  the  west  of  Blackfriars  Bridge,  the  cele- 
brated Fleet  Ditch  till  recently  ran  into  the  Thames. 

"  By  Bridewell  all  descend, 
(As  morning  prayer  and  flagellation  end), 
To  where  Fleet  Ditch,  with  disemboguing  streams, 
Rolls  the  large  tribute  of  dead  dogs  to  Thames  ; 
The  king  of  dykes  !  than  whom  no  sluice  of  mud 
With  deeper  sable  blots  the  silver  flood." — Dunciad. 

The  Fleet  Ditch,  or  rather  river — rendered  classical  by 
the  verse  of  Ben  Jonson,  Swift,  Pope,  and  Gay — was  an- 
ciently a  broad  and  limpid  stream,  which  had  its  rise  in  the 
high  grounds  of  Hampstead,  and  was  further  fed  by  the 
waters  of  certain  wells,  called  Clerken-well,  Skinners-well, 
Fags- well,  Tode-well,  Loders-well,  and  Had- well;  "all  which 
said  wells,"  says  Stow,  "  having  the  fall  of  their  overflowing 

17—2 


260  THE  RIVER  FLEET. 

in  the  aforesaid  river,  much  increased  the  stream."  It  was 
from  this  circumstance  that  it  anciently  obtained  the  name 
of  the  "  River  of  Wells."  It  was  crossed  by  no  fewer  than 
four  stone  bridges  in  its  course,  by  way  of  Kentish  Town 
and  Camden  Town,  to  the  Thames;  one  of  these  bridges 
standing  at  the  foot  of  Holborn  Hill,  then  called  Holborn 
Bridge,  at  which  point  the  River  Fleet  united  itself  with 
the  waters  of  the  Old  Bourne,  or  stream,  from  which  Holborn 
derives  its  name.  Anciently,  the  tide  flowed  up  the  Fleet 
river  as  far  as  Holborn  Bridge,  the  present  Bridge  Street 
being  the  channel  of  the  stream.  According  to  Stow,  such, 
in  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Second,  was  the  depth  and 
breadth  of  this  now  filthy  ditch,  "  that  ten  or  twelve  ships 
navies  at  once,  with  merchandizes,  were  wont  to  come  to 
the  aforesaid  bridge  of  Fleet."  The  other  bridges  of  the 
Fleet  were  Fleet  Bridge,  Bridewell  Bridge,  and  Fleet  Lane 
Bridge. 

In  1606  we  find  no  less  a  sum  than  twenty-eight  thousand 
pounds  expended  for  the  purpose  of  scouring  the  Fleet 
river  and  keeping  it  in  a  navigable  state.  Pennant,  speak- 
ing of  the  performance  of  this  work,  observes — "  At  the 
depth  of  fifteen  feet  were  found  several  Roman  utensils; 
and,  a  little  deeper,  a  great  quantity  of  Roman  coins,  in 
silver,  copper,  brass,  and  other  metals,  but  none  in  gold.  At 
Holborn  Bridge  were  found  two  brazen  Lares,  about  four 
inches  long ;  one  a  Bacchus,  the  other  a  Ceres.  It  is  a  pro- 
bable conjecture  that  these  were  thrown  in  by  the  affrighted 
Romans,  at  the  approach  of  the  enraged  Boadicea,  who 
soon  took  ample  revenge  on  her  insulting  conquerors.  Here 
were  also  found  numbers  of  Saxon  antiquities, — spurs, 
weapons,  keys,  seals,  &c. ;  also  medals,  crosses,  and  crucifixes, 
which  might  likewise  have  been  flung  in  on  occasion  of  some 
alarm."  The  Fleet  river  was  again  thoroughly  cleansed  in 


THE  RIVER  FLEET.  261 

1652  at  a  considerable  expense.  About  sixteen  years  after- 
wards, in  hopes  of  its  proving  a  lucrative  speculation, 
another  large  sum  was  expended  in  re-opening  the  naviga- 
tion as  far  as  Holborn.  For  this  purpose  the  river  was 
deepened,  wharfs  and  quays  were  erected,  and  the  banks 
were  cased  with  stone  and  brick.  The  speculation,  how- 
ever, proved  anything  but  a  profitable  one ;  and,  accordingly, 
between  the  years  1734  and  1737,  it  was  partially  arched 
over,  and  in  consequence  of  further  improvements  which 
took  place  in  1765,  was  almost  entirely  concealed  from 
view. 

One  of  the  last  glimpses  to  be  caught  of  this  nauseous 
stream  we  availed  ourselves  of  many  years  ago,  on  the 
occasion  of  the  destruction  of  some  old  houses  in  West 
Street,  at  the  south  end  of  Saffron  Hill,  which  had  been 
the  hiding-place  and  stronghold  of  thieves,  and  an  asylum 
for  the  most  depraved  of  both  sexes,  from  the  reign  of  Queen 
Anne  to  our  own  time.  Here,  according  to  tradition,  the 
notorious  Jonathan  Wild  carried  on  his  crafty  and  nefarious 
traffic  of  plunder  and  human  blood.  We  remember  well 
how  the  black  and  disgusting  looking  stream  flowed  through 
a  deep  and  narrow  channel,  encased  on  each  side  with  brick, 
and  overhung  by  miserable -looking  dwelling-houses,  the 
abode  of  poverty  and  crime.  The  stronghold  of  the  thieves 
consisted  of  two  separate  habitations — one  on  each  side  of 
the  ditch — ingeniously  contrived  with  private  means  of  com- 
munication and  escape  from  one  to  the  other.  For  instance, 
in  the  event  of  either  being  invaded  by  the  myrmidons  of 
the  law,  a  plank  might  be  readily  thrown  from  one  aperture 
to  the  other,  and  as  readily  withdrawn  in  the  event  of  pur- 
suit ;  or,  in  the  last  extremity,  the  culprit  could  plunge  into 
the  ditch,  and  pursue  his  course  down  the  murky  stream, 
till  either  some  familiar  outlet,  or  the  habitation  of  some 


262  THE  RIVER  FLEET. 

friendly  companion  in  crime,  afforded  him  the  means  of 
escape.  The  principal  building,  known  in  the  reign  of 
George  the  First  as  the  Red  Lion  Tavern,  was  unquestion- 
ably of  great  antiquity.  Its  dark  closets,  its  trap-doors,  its 
sliding  panels,  and  its  secret  recesses  and  hiding-places,  ren- 
dered it  no  less  secure  for  purposes  of  robbery  and  murder, 
than  as  a  refuge  for  those  who  were  under  the  ban  of  the 
law.  In  this  house,  about  thirty  years  ago,  a  sailor  was 
robbed,  and  afterwards  thrown  naked,  through  one  of  the 
apertures  which  we  have  described,  into  the  Fleet  ditch, — a 
crime  for  which  two  men  and  a  woman  were  subsequently 
convicted  and  transported  for  fourteen  years.  About  the 
same  time,  although  the  premises  were  surrounded  by  the 
police,  a  thief  made  his  escape  by  means  of  its  communica- 
tions with  the  neighbouring  houses,  the  inhabitants  of  which 
were  almost  universally  either  subsistent  upon  or  friendly 
to  pillage  and  crime.  At  the  demolition  of  these  premises, 
there  were  found  in  the  cellars,  among  other  mysterious 
evidences  of  the  dark  deeds  which  had  been  perpetrated 
within  their  walls,  numerous  human  bones,  which,  there  can 
be  little  doubt,  were  those  of  persons  who  had  met  with  an 
untimely  end. 

In  ancient  times,  the  great  city  wall,  commencing  at  the 
Tower,  after  taking  a  circuit  round  London,  terminated 
nearly  at  the  foot  of  the  present  Blackfriars  Bridge  ;  running 
parallel  with,  and  to  the  east  of,  the  Fleet  river.  Here  stood 
a  strong  fortress,  the  western  Arx  Palatina  of  the  city,  the 
remains  of  which  were  afterwards  used  in  constructing  the 
neighbouring  palace  of  Bridewell. 

Bridewell,  which  stood  on  the  west  side  of  the  Fleet  river, 
and  the  walls  of  which  were  washed  by  its  waters,  appears 
to  have  been  a  formidable  fortress  in  the  reign  of  William 
the  Conqueror,  and  was  the  residence  of  our  sovereigns  at 


THE  PALACE  OF  BRIDEWELL.  263 

least  as  early  as  the  reign  of  King  John.  This  famous 
palatial  fortress  derived  its  name  from  a  spring,  or  well, 
which  flowed  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  which  was  dedi- 
cated to  St.  Bride.  It  continued  to  be  used  as  a  palace  as 
late  as  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  who  constantly  held 
his  Court  there,  and  who  rebuilt  it  in  a  magnificent  manner 
for  the  reception  of  the  Emperor  Charles  the  Fifth,  on  the 
occasion  of  his  visit  to  England  in  1522.  The  Emperor, 
however,  chose  in  preference  the  neighbouring  palace  of 
Blackfriars,  and,  accordingly,  his  suite  only  were  lodged  in 
Bridewell ;  a  passage  having  been  cut  through  the  city  wall 
to  enable  the  inmates  of  the  two  palaces  to  communicate 
with  each  other. 

It  was  in  the  palace  of  Bridewell  that  Henry  the  Eighth 
was  holding  his  Court  at  the  time  when  the  Pope's  Legate, 
Cardinal  Campeius,  or  Campeggio,  arrived  in  England,  for 
the  purpose  of  investigating  the  legality  of  the  King's  mar- 
riage with  the  unfortunate  Catherine  of  Aragon.  "The 
Cardinal,"  we  are  told,  "  came  by  long  journeys  into  Eng- 
land, and  much  preparation  was  made  to  receive  him  trium- 
phantly into  London ;  but  he  was  so  sore  vexed  with  the 
gout,  that  he  refused  all  such  solemnities,  and  desired  that 
he  might,  without  pomp,  be  conveyed  to  his  lodgings,  for  his 
more  quiet  and  rest.  And  so,  on  the  9th  of  October,  he  came 
from  St.  Mary  Overys  by  water,  to  the  Bishop  of  Bath's 
palace  without  Temple  Bar,  where  he  was  visited  by  Car- 
dinal Wolsey,  and  diverse  other  estates  and  prelates ;  and 
after  he  had  rested  him  a  season,  he  was  brought  to  the 
King's  presence  at  Bridewell  by  the  Cardinal  of  York,  and 
carried  in  a  chair  between  four  persons,  for  he  was  not  able 
to  stand." 

In  the  palace  of  Bridewell,  "in  a  room  in  the  Queen's 
apartment,"  Shakspeare  places  the  beautiful  and  pathetic 


264  BISHOP  RIDLEY'S  LETTER. 

scene,  in  which  Catherine  asserts  her  rights,  and  opposes  her 
simple  eloquence  to  the  arguments  of  the  cold-blooded 
Cardinals. 

In  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Sixth  the  palace  of  Bridewell 
was  converted  into  an  establishment  "  for  the  correction  and 
punishment  of  idle  and  vagrant  people,  and  for  setting  them 
to  work  that  they  might,  in  an  honest  way,  take  pains  to 
get  their  own  livelihood."  For  the  noble  philanthropic  pro- 
ject, which  converted  the  palace  of  kings  into  an  asylum  for 
sheltering  the  houseless  and  for  reclaiming  crime,  we  are 
indebted  to  Bishop  Ridley.  His  quaint  letter  on  the  subject 
to  the  Secretary  of  State,  Sir  William  Cecil,  afterwards  Lord 
Burleigh,  is  still  extant.  "  Good  Mr.  Cecil,"  he  writes,  "  I 
must  be  a  suitor  to  you  in  our  good  master  Christ's  cause  : 
I  beseech  you  to  be  good  to  him.  The  matter  is,  sir,  alas  t 
he  hath  lain  too  long  abroad  (as  you  do  know)  without 
lodging,  in  the  streets  of  London,  both  hungry,  naked,  and 
cold.  Now,  thanks  be  to  Almighty  God,  the  citizens  are 
willing  to  refresh  him,  and  to  give  him  meat,  drink,  clothing, 
and  firing ;  but,  alas !  sir,  they  lack  lodging  for  him.  For,  in 
some  one  house,  I  dare  say,  they  are  fain  to  lodge  three 
families  under  one  roof.  Sir,  there  is  a  large,  wide,  empty 
house  of  the  King's  majesty's,  called  Bridewell,  that  would 
wonderfully  well  serve  to  lodge  Christ  in,  if  he  might  find 
such  good  friends  in  the  court  to  procure  in  his  cause. 
Surely,  I  have  such  a  good  opinion  of  the  King's  majesty, 
that  if  Christ  had  such  faithful  and  hearty  friends,  who 
would  heartily  speak  for  him,  he  should  undoubtedly  speed 
at  the  King's  majesty's  hands.  Sir,  I  have  promised  my 
brethren,  the  citizens,  to  move  you,  because  I  do  take  you 
for  one  that  feareth  God,  and  would  that  Christ  should  lie 
no  more  in  the  streets." 

Cecil  entered  warmly  into  Bishop  Ridley's  philanthropic 
• 

\ 


BRIDEWELL.  265 


plans,  and  accordingly,  on  the  10th  of  April,  1553,  the  Lord 
Mayor  and  Corporation  of  the  city  of  London  were  sum- 
moned to  attend  the  young  King  at  Whitehall,  when  the 
palace  of  Bridewell  was  formally  surrendered  into  their 
hands,  to  be  a  refuge  and  workhouse  for  the  poor  and  un- 
employed. It  was  not.  till  a  later  period  that  it  was  con- 
verted into  a  place  of  punishment  and  reformation  for 
disobedient  apprentices,  street-brawlers,  prostitutes,  and 
other  idle  and  refractory  characters.  The  principal  portion 
of  the  old  palace  of  Bridewell  was  destroyed  in  the  great 
fire  of  1666.  The  remainder  was  taken  down  in  1863.  In 
the  committee  room  are  several  portraits,  one  of  which,  said 
to  be  by  Holbein,  represents  Edward  the  Sixth  confirming 
the  charter  of  Bridewell.  There  is  also  a  portrait  of  Charles, 
the  Second,  by  Sir  Peter  Lely,  and  another  of  James  the 
Second,  by  the  same  artist. 

In  Bridewell  died  Madam  Creswell,  a  notorious  procuress 
of  the  days  of  Charles  the  Second.  "  She  desired  by  will," 
says  Granger,  "  to  have  a  sermon  preached  at  her  funeral, 
for  which  the  preacher  was  to  have  ten  pounds  ;  but  upon 
this  express  condition,  that  he  was  to  say  nothing  but  what 
was  well  of  her.  A  preacher  was  with  some  difficulty  found 
who  undertook  the  task.  He,  after  a  sermon  preached  on 
the  general  subject  of  mortality,  and  the  good  uses  to  be  made 
of  it,  concluded  by  saying : — '  By  the  will  of  the  deceased 
it  is  expected  that  I  should  mention  her,  and  say  nothing 
but  what  is  well  of  her.  All  that  I  shall  say  of  her,  there- 
fore, is  this :  she  was  born  well,  she  lived  ivell,  and  she  died 
well ;  for  she  was  born  with  the  name  Creswell,  she  lived  in 
Clerkenwell,  and  she  died  in  Bridewell.' "  The  scene  of  the 
fourth  plate  of  Hogarth's  great  work,  the  "  Harlot's  Pro- 
gress," is  laid  in  Bridewell. 

Immediately  to  the  west  of  Bridewell  stood  Dorset  House,. 


266       THOMAS  SACKVILLE,  LORD  BUCKHURST. 

anciently  the  residence  of  the  Bishops  of  Salisbury,  and 
afterwards  of  that  accomplished  race  of  warriors  and  poets, 
the  Sackvilles,  Earls,  and  afterwards  Dukes  of  Dorset.  The 
site  is  still  pointed  out  by  Dorset  Street ;  in  the  same 
manner  that  Salisbury  Court,  in  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood, still  commemorates  the  residence  of  the  bishops  of  that 
see.  In  Sackville  House,  afterwards  called  Dorset  House, 
lived  in  great  magnificence  Thomas  Sackville,  Lord  Buck- 
hurst,  created  by  James  the  First,  in  1604,  Earl  of  Dorset. 
This  nobleman  was  no  less  remarkable  for  his  talents  as  a 
statesman,  than  for  his  literary  accomplishments,  being,  in 
the  opinion  of  Pope,  the  best  poet  between  Chaucer  and 
Spenser.  In  Dorset  House  he  is  said  to  have  written  his 
portion  of  the  well-known  tragedy,  "  Ferrex  and  Porrex." 
He  was  one  of  the  commissioners  who  tried  the  unfortunate 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  and  was  the  person  selected  to  com- 
municate to  her  the  fatal  intelligence  that  her  days  were 
numbered.  The  Earl  in  his  youth  had  been  principally  dis- 
tinguished as  a  man  of  pleasure  and  a  spendthrift ;  so  much 
so,  that  his  vast  hereditary  fortune  had  at  one  time  nearly 
slipped  through  his  hands.  As  Lord  Treasurer,  however,  no 
man  ever  administered  the  public  revenues  with  more  credit 
to  himself,  or  with  greater  advantage  to  his  country.  The 
incident  which  is  stated  to  have  occasioned  the  Earl's  refor- 
mation is  curious.  His  necessities  having  obliged  him  to 
seek  the  loan  of  a  sum  of  money,  he  applied  to  a  wealthy 
alderman  for  his  assistance.  Happening  one  day  to  call  at 
the  citizen's  house,  he  was  allowed  to  remain  a  considerable 
time  unnoticed  in  an  ante-chamber.  This  indignity — to 
which  his  necessities  compelled  him  to  submit — so  wrought 
on  his  feelings,  that  he  resolved  from  that  moment  to  alter 
his  mode  of  life  ;  and  it  may  be  added,  that  he  conscientiously 
adhered  to  his  resolution. 


THE  DORSET  FAMILY.  267 

The  Earl  died  suddenly  at  the  council  board,  on  the  19th 
of  April,  1608.  In  the  heat  of  argument  he  rose  from  his 
seat,  and  drawing  some  papers  from  his  bosom,  exclaimed 
with  great  vehemence,  "  I  have  that  here  which  will  strike 
you  dead."  He  fell  down  at  the  moment,  and  died  almost 
instantly.  The  Queen,  Anne  of  Denmark,  was  present  when 
lie  expired.* 

In  Dorset  House  died  Richard  Sackville,  the  third  Earl ; 
and  here  also  expired  Edward  the  fourth  Earl,  celebrated  for 
his  famous  duel  with  Lord  Bruce,  but  still  more  for  his 
genius  in  the  cabinet,  his  gallantry  on  the  field  of  battle,  and 
his  affectionate  attachment  to  his  unfortunate  master,  Charles 
the  First.  At  the  battle  of  Edgehill,  the  Earl  was  selected 
to  take  charge  of  the  young  Prince  of  Wales,  and  of  his 
brother,  the  Duke  of  York.  Unable,  however,  to  resist  the 
generous  impulse  which  urged  him  to  join  the  fray,  he  in- 
trusted the  young  princes  to  the  care  of  others,  and  placing 
himself  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  performed  heroic  acts  of 
valour ;  besides  recovering  the  royal  standard  which  had 
been  captured  by  the  enemy.  Many  years  afterwards,  on 
the  llth  of  December,  1079,  we  find  the  Duke  of  York 
writing  to  the  first  Lord  Dartmouth :  "  The  old  Earl  of 
Dorset,  at  Edgehill,  being  commanded  by  the  King,  my 
father,  to  go  and  carry  the  prince  and  myself  up  the  hill, 
out  of  the  battle,  refused  to  do  it,  and  said  that  he  would 
not  be  thought  a  coward  for  ever  a  king's  son  in  Christen- 
dom." The  Earl  took  the  execution  of  his  royal  master  so 
much  to  heart,  that  he  shut  himself  up  in  Dorset  House,  and 
never  quitted  it  till  his  death,  on  the  17th  of  July,  1652. 

At  the  Restoration  we  find  the  gallant  and  loyal  William 
Cavendish,  Duke  of  Newcastle,  residing  with  his  pompous 

*  His  widow  Cicely,  daughter  of  Sir  Johii  Baker  of  Sissinghurst,  in 
Kent,  died  in  Dorset  House  on  the  1st  of  October,  1615. 


268  THE  CONVENT  OF  THE  WHITEFRIARS. 

and  fantastic  Duchess  in  a  portion  of  Dorset  House.  It  was. 
shortly  afterwards  taken  down,  and  nearly  on  its  site  was 
erected  the  Dorset  Garden  Theatre,  which  stood  on  the  east 
side  of  the  present  Salisbury  Court,  with  a  front  towards  the 
river. 

This  theatre,  of  which  the  widow  of  the  well-known  Sir 
William  Davenant  was  the  patentee,  was  opened  on  the  9th 
of  November,  1671,  notwithstanding  a  strong  opposition 
made  to  it  by  the  city  of  London.  The  actors,  among  whom 
was  the  well-known  Betterton,  were  styled  the  Duke  of 
York's  servants,  in  order  to  distinguish  them  from  the  King's 
company.*" 

On  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  between  Dorset  House  and 
the  Temple  Garden,  stood  the  convent  of  the  Whitefriars,  or 
Carmelites,  the  site  of  which  is  still  pointed  out  by  White- 
friars  Street.  It  was  founded  in  1241,  by  Sir  Richard  Grey, 
of  Codnor  in  Derbyshire,  and  was  afterwards  rebuilt,  about 
the  year  1350,  by  Hugh  Courtenay,  Earl  of  Devonshire; 
Robert  Marshall,  Bishop  of  Hereford,  furnishing  the  choir. 
In  the  church  of  the  convent  were  buried  many  persons  of 
distinction,  of  whom  Stow  has  given  us  a  long  catalogue. 
Shortly  after  the  dissolution  of  the  monasteries,  the  church 
and  the  other  buildings  connected  with  the  convent  were 
taken  down ;  the  Chapter-house  and  other  parts  being  con- 
ferred by  Henry  the  Eighth  on  his  physician,  Henry  Butts, 
whose  name  has  been  immortalised  by  Shakspeare.  The 
great  hall,  or  refectory,  was  converted  into  the  Whitefriars 
Theatre. 

*  They  removed  to  Dorset  Garden  from  the  Duke's  Theatre  in  Lincoln's 
Inn.  The  Duke's  servants  continued  to  perform  in  Dorset  Garden  till  1682, 
when  they  removed  to  Drury  Lane,  and  incorporated  themselves  with  the 
King's  Company.  The  theatre  in  Dorset  Garden  was  still  standing  in  1720, 
shortly  after  which  period  it  appears  to  have  been  pulled  down.  The 
theatre  in  Dorset  Garden  was  the  last  to  which  the  company  were  in  the 
habit  of  going  by  water. 


WHITEFRIARS.  269 


Whitefriars,  however,  still  retained  the  privilege  of  a  sanc- 
tuary, and,  accordingly,  from  the  days  of  James  the  First  to 
those  of  William  the  Third,  we  find  it  affording  an  asylum 
to  all  kinds  of  abandonepl  characters,  thieves,  cheats,  game- 
sters, insolvent  debtors,  and  broken  down  poets  and  actors, 
who  dubbed  the  district  by  the  cant  title  of  Alsatia,  a  name 
rendered  famous  by  Shadwell  in  his  "  Squire  of  Alsatia,"  and 
still  more  so  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  in  his  "  Fortunes  of  Nigel." 
"Whitefriars,  adjacent  to  the  Temple,"  says  Sir  Walter, 
"then  well  known  by  the  cant  name  of  Alsatia,  had  the 
privilege  of  a  sanctuary,  unless  against  the  writ  of  the  Lord 
Chief  Justice,  or  of  the  Lords  of  the  Privy  Council.  Indeed, 
as  the  place  abounded  with  desperadoes  of  every  description 
—bankrupt  citizens,  ruined  gamesters,  irreclaimable  prodi- 
gals, desperate  duellists,  bravoes,  homicides,  and  debauched 
profligates  of  every  description,  all  leagued  together  to  main- 
tain the  immunities  of  their  asylum — it  was  both  difficult 
and  unsafe  for  the  officers  of  the  law  to  execute  warrants 
emanating  even  from  the  highest  authority,  amongst  men 
whose  safety  was  inconsistent  with  warrants  or  authority  of 
any  kind." 

The  scene  of  "  The  Squire  of  Alsatia  "  lies  in  this*  once 
abandoned  district ;  Shadwell  going  so  far  as  to  make  his 
characters  speak  the  cant  language  of  the  thieves  and  des- 
peradoes of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second.  Many  of  these 
words  and  phrases  Sir  Walter  Scott  has  borrowed,  and  placed 
in  the  mouths  of  different  characters,  in  the  debauched  scenes 
into  which  he  introduces  Lord  Glenvarloch.  Of  the  kind  of 
persons  to  be  met  with  in  this  privileged  and  lawless  dis- 
trict in  the  days  of  Charles  the  Second,  Shadwell  affords  us 
a  tolerable  idea  in  summing  up  the  character  of  his  dramatis 
personce : — 

"  Cheatly.    A  rascal,  who  by  reason  of    debts  dares  not  stir  out  of 


270  INHABITANTS  OF  ALSATIA. 

Whitefriars,  but  there  inveigles  young  heirs  in  tail,  and  helps  them  to 
goods  and  money  upon  great  disadvantages  ;  is  bound  for  them,  and  shares 
with  them  till  he  undoes  them.  A  lewd,  impudent,  debauched  fellow,  very 
expert  in  the  cant  about  the  town. 

"  Shamwell.  Cousin  to  the  Belfords  ;  an  heir,  who  being  ruined  by 
Cheatly,  is  made  a  decoy-duck  for  others  ;  not  daring  to  stir  out  of 
Alsatia,  where  he  lives  ;  is  bound  to  Cheatly  for  heirs,  and  lives  upon  'em 
a  dissolute,  debauched  life. 

"  Capt.  Hackum.  A  blockhead  bully  of  Alsatia ;  a  cowardly,  im- 
pudent, blustering  fellow,  formerly  a  serjeant  in  Flanders,  run  from  his 
colours,  retreated  into  Whitefriars  for  a  very  small  debt,  where,  by  the 
Alsatians  he  is  dubbed  a  Captain  ;  marries  one  that  lets  lodgings,  sells 
cherry-brandy,  &c. 

"  Scrapeall.  A  hypocritical,  repeating,  praying,  psalm-singing,  precise 
fellow,  pretending  to  great  piety  ;  a  godly  knave,  who  joins  with  Cheatly, 
and  supplies  young  heirs  with  goods  and  money." 

In  the  reign  of  James  the  First,  Alsatia  was  the  scene  of 
one  of  the  most  singular  murders  on  record.     Kobert  Crigh- 
ton,  Lord  Sanquhar,  a  Scottish  nobleman,  had  had  his  eye 
accidentally  put  out  by  one  Turner,  a  fencing-master,  while 
amusing  themselves  with  the  foils.     Some  time  afterwards, 
being   at  Paris,  Henry  the  Fourth  of  France  inquired  of 
him  how  the  accident  had  happened  ?    Sanquhar  detailed  the 
circumstances ;  on  which  the  King  asked  whether  the  man 
still  lived  who  had  'mutilated  him  ?     The  question  had  such 
an  effect  upon  Lord  Sanquhar,  that  he  hired  two  of  his 
countrymen,  named  Irving  and  Carlile,  to  waylay  and  shoot 
the  unfortunate  fencing-master.     According  to  the  "  State 
Trials  " — "  These  two,  about  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
came  to  a  house  in  the  Friars,  which  Turner  used  to  frequent 
as  he  came  to  his  school,  which  was  near  that  place,  and 
finding  Turner  there,  they  saluted  one  another,  and  Turner, 
with  one  of  his  friends,  sat  at  the  door,  asking  them  to 
drink;  but  Carlile  and  Irving,  turning  about  to  cock  the 
pistol,  came  back  immediately,  and  Carlile,  drawing  it  from 
under  his  coat,  discharged  it  upon  Turner,  and  gave  him  a 
mortal  wound  near  the  left  pap  ;  so  that  Turner,  after  having 


EXECUTION  OF  LORD  SANQUHAR.  271 

said  these  words,  '  Lord  have  mercy  upon  me  !  I  am  killed/ 
immediately  fell  down.  Whereupon  Carlile  and  Irving  fled, 
Carlile  to  the  town,  and  Irving  towards  the  river ;  but  the 
latter,  mistaking  his  way,  and  entering  into  a  court  where 
they  sold  wood,  which  was  no  thoroughfare,  he  was  taken. 
The  Baron  of  Sanquhar  likewise  fled.  The  ordinary  officers 
of  justice  did  their  utmost,  but  could  not  take  them  ;  for,  in 
fact,  as  appeared  afterwards,  Carlile  fled  into  Scotland,  and 
towards  the  sea,  thinking  to  go  to  Sweden,  and  Sanquhar 
hid  himself  in  England." 

They  did  not  long,  however,  elude  the  vigilance  of  jus- 
tice. Having  been  severally  tried  and  found  guilty,  Lord 
Sanquhar  was  hanged  in  New  Palace  Yard,  opposite  to  the 
entrance  to  Westminster  Hall,  and  Irving  and  Carlile  in 
Fleet  Street,  opposite  to  the  entrance  to  Whitefriars.  Lord 
Sanquhar's  body  was  allowed  to  remain  suspended  a  much 
longer  time  than  usual,  in  order  that  "  people  might  take 
notice  of  the  King's  greater  justice,"  in  putting  the  laws  in 
force  against  a  powerful  nobleman  and  one  of  his  own 
countrymen.  Peyton,  however,  in  his  "  Divine  Catastrophe," 
relates  a  curious  anecdote,  which,  if  true,  places  the  conduct 
of  James  in  a  very  different  light.  Lord  Sanquhar,  he  says, 
was  on  one  occasion  present  at  the  Court  of  Henry  the 
Fourth  of  France,  when  some  one  happened  to  speak  of  his 
royal  master  as  the  "  English  Solomon."  King  Henry — 
alluding  to  the  supposed  attachment  of  James's  mother  to 
David  Bizzio — observed  sarcastically — "  I  hope  the  name  is 
not  given  him  because  he  is  David  the  fiddler's  son."  This 

O 

conversation  was  repeated  to  James,  and,  accordingly,  when, 
some  time  afterwards,  the  friends  of  Lord  Sanquhar  im- 
plored him  to  save  his  life,  he  is  said  to  have  refused  the 
application  on  the  ground  that  Lord  Sanquhar  had  neglected 
to  resent  the  insult  offered  to  his  sovereign. 


272  WHITEFRIARS. 


Whitefriars  continued  to  enjoy  the  privilege  of  a  sanc- 
tuary till  1697,  when,  in  consequence  of  the  riotous  pro- 
ceedings which  constantly  took  place  within  its  precincts, 
and  the  encouragement  which  it  held  out  to  vice  and  crime, 
it  was  abolished  by  act  of  Parliament.  The  other  sanctua- 
ries, whose  privileges  were  swept  away  at  the  same  time, 
were  those  of  Mitre  Court,  Ram  Alley,  and  Salisbury  Court, 
Fleet  Street;  the  Savoy  in  the  Strand;  Fulwood's  Rents, 
Holborn ;  Baldwin's  Gardens,  in  Gray's  Inn  Lane ;  the 
Minories,  and  Deadman  Place,  Montague  Close;  and  the. 
Clink,  and  the  Mint,  in  Southwark.  In  the  "  Tatler  "  of  the 
10th  of  September,  1709,  Alsatia  is  spoken  of  as  being  in 
ruins. 

The  great  lawyer,  John  Shelden — James  Shirley,  the 
dramatic  poet — John  Ogilvy,  the  poet,  and  Sir  Balthazar 
Gerbier,  the  painter,  were  at  different  periods  residents  in 
Whitefriars.  Selden  died  here,  in  1654,  in  the  Friary  House, 
the  residence  of  the  Countess  of  Kent,  to  whom  there  is 
reason  to  believe  that  he  was  privately  married. 


LONDON  BKIDGE. 

ANTIQUITY  OF  OLD  LONDON  BRIDGE. — LEGEND  OF  THE  ERECTION  OF  THE 
FIRST  BRIDGE. — CANUTE'S  EXPEDITION. — THE  FIRST  STONE  BRIDGE. — ITS 
APPEARANCE. — TRAITORS'  HEADS  AFFIXED  THEREON. — TENANTS  AND  AC- 
CIDENTS ON  IT. — SUICIDES  UNDER  IT. — PAGEANTS  ACROSS,  AND  FIGHTS  ON 
IT. — EDWARD  THE  BLACK  PRINCE. — WAT  TYLER. — LORDS  WELLES  AND 
LINDSAY. — RICHARD  II. — HENRY  V. — SIGISMUND. — HENRY  VI. — JACK  CADE. 
— BASTARDOF  FALCONBRIDGE. — WOLSEY. — OSBORNE. — WYATT. — CHARLES  II. 
— DECAPITATED  PERSONS. 

OF  the  ancient  structures  which  have  been  swept  away 
within  the .  memory  of  living  persons,  there  is  not 
one  which  was  more  replete  with  historical  and  ro- 
mantic associations  than  Old  London  Bridge.  At  the  time 
of  its  demolition  in  1832,  it  had  existed  upward  of  six  cen- 
turies. From  the  days  of  the  Normans  till  the  reign  of 
George  the  Second  it  had  been  the  only  thoroughfare  which 
had  united,  not  only  the  southern  counties  of  England,  but 
the  whole  of  Europe,  with  the  great  metropolis  of  the  West. 
Apart  from  its  connection  with  ancient  manners  and  cus- 
toms, we  must  remember  that,  for  a  long  lapse  of  years,  it 
was  over  this  famous  causeway  that  the  wise,  the  noble,  and 
the  beautiful,  from  all  countries  and  all  climes, — the  adven- 
turer in  search  of  gold— the  Jesuit  employed  on  his  dark 
mission  of  mystery  and  intrigue — the  ambassador  followed 
by  his  gorgeous  suites — philosophers,  statesmen,  and  poets — 
passed  in  their  journey  to  the  great  commercial  capital  of 
the  world.  Every  princely  procession  from  the  continent  of 

VOL.   II.  18 


274  ANTIQUITY  OF  LONDON  BRIDGE. 

Europe — every  fair  bride  who  has  come  over  to  be  wedded 
to  our  earlier  sovereigns — every  illustrious  prisoner,  from 
the  days  of  Cressy  and  Agincourt  to  those  of  Blenheim  and 
Ramillies,  has  passed  in  succession  over  Old  London  Bridge. 
"Westminster  Abbey,  the  Tower,  and  the  Temple  Church, 
still  remain  to  us  as  venerable  relics  of  the  past ;  but  Old 
London  Bridge,  with  its  host  of  historical  associations,  has 
passed  away  for  ever  ! 

Stow,  on  the  authority  of  Bartholomew  Linsted,  alias 
Fowle,  the  last  prior  of  the  church  of  St.  Mary  Overy's, 
Southwark,  relates  a  curious  legend  in  regard  to  the  cir- 
cumstances which  first  led  to  the  erection  of  a  bridge  over 
the  Thames  at  London.  "  A  ferry,"  he  says,  "  being  kept  in 
place  where  now  the  bridge  is  builded,  at  length  the  ferry- 
man and  his  wife  deceasing,  left  the  same  ferry  to  their  only 
daughter,  a  maiden  named  Mary,  which,  with  the  goods  left 
by  her  parents,  and  also  with  the  profits  arising  out  of  the 
said  ferry,  builded  an  house  of  Sisters  in  place  where  now 
standeth  the  east  part  of  St.  Mary  Overy's  church,  above 
the  quire,  where  she  was  buried,  unto  which  house  she  gave 
the  oversight  and  profits  of  the  ferry.  But  afterwards  the 
said  house  of  Sisters  being  converted  into  a  college  of 
priests,  the  priests  builded  the  bridge  of  (timber),  as  all  the 
other  the  great  bridges  of  this  land  were,  and  from  time  to 
time  kept  the  same  in  good  reparations;  till  at  length, 
considering  the  great  charges  of  repairing  the  same,  there 
was,  by  aid  of  the  citizens  of  London  and  others,  a  bridge 
built  with  arches  of  stone." 

That  at  a  very  remote  period  there  existed  a  constructed 
passage  over  the  Thames  nearly  on  the  site  of  the  present 
London  Bridge,  there  is  every  reason  to  believe.  The  first 
notice,  however,  of  a  "  bridge  "  is  to  be  found  in  994,  in  the 
reign  of  Ethelred  the  Second.  It  was  supported  by  piles,. 


\ 


CANUTE'S  EXPEDITION.    '  275 

or  posts,  sunk  in  the  bed  of  the  river ;  was  fortified  with 
turrets  and  bulwarks,  and  was  broad  enough  to  admit  of 
one  carriage  passing  another.  It  was  in  this  reign  that 
Olaf,  or  Olave,  King  of  Norway,  sailed  in  his  expedition  up 
the  Thames  as  far  as  London,  for  the  purpose  of  assisting 
King  Ethelred  to  drive  away  the  Danish  adventurers  who 
then  held  possession,  not  only  of  the  metropolis,  but  of  a 
great  portion  of  the  kingdom.  It  was  in  the  successful 
attempt  to  reduce  the  defences  of  the  bridge  that  the  great 
fight  took  place  between  the  contending  parties.  Victory 
decided  in  favour  of  the  English.  In  the  conflict  a  vast 
number  of  the  Danes  were  either  killed  or  drowned,  the  re- 
mainder, who  fled  in  all  directions,  being  speedily  compelled 
to  submit  to  the  authority  of  King  Ethelred. 

The  bridge  on  this  occasion  is  said  to  have  been  completely 
destroyed ;  but  that  it  was  speedily  rebuilt  is  evident  from 
the  fact  of  the  forces  of  Canute,  King  of  Denmark,  having 
been  impeded  by  a  bridge  at  London  on  the  occasion  of  his 
leading  a  fleet  up  the  Thames  in  1016.  Defeated  in  his 
attempts  to  reduce  the  bridge  by  assault,  he  had  recourse  to 
an  expedient  which  shows  how  great  were  his  resources. 
"  He  caused,"  says  Pennant,  "  a  prodigious  ditch  to  be  cut 
on  the  south  side  of  the  Thames,  at  Rotherhithe,  or  Redriff,. 
a  little  to  the  east  of  South wark,  which  he  continued  at  a 
distance  from  the  south  end  of  the  bridge,  in  form  of  a 
semicircle,  opening  into  the  western  part  of  the  river. 
Through  this  he  drew  his  ships,  and  effectually  completed 
the  blockade  of  the  city.  But  the  valour  of  the  citizens 
obliged  him  to  raise  the  siege.  Evidences  of  this  great  work 
were  found  in  the  place  called  the  Dock  Head  at  Redriff, 
where  it  began.  Fascines  of  hazels  and  other  brushwood, 
fastened  down  with  stakes,  were  discovered  in  digging  that 
dock  in  1G94 ;  and  in  other  parts  of  its  course  have  been 

18—2 


276  HOUSES  ON  LONDON  BRIDGE. 

met  with,  in  ditching,  large  oaken  planks,  and  numbers  of 
piles." 

From  the  period  of  King  Canute's  expedition  we  find  few 
notices  of  London  Bridge  till  1091,  in  which  year  it  is  said 
to  have  been  entirely  swept  away  by  a  furious  tempest, 
whose  devastations  extended  over  London,  destroying  several 
churches,  and  no  fewer  than  600  private  houses.  The  bridge 
was  speedily  rebuilt,  but  was  again  destroyed  by  a  fearful 
conflagration  which  took  place  in  1136,  and  which  desolated 
London  from  Aldgate  to  St.  Paul's. 

According  to  Stow,  London  Bridge  was  entirely  rebuilt  of 
wood  in  1163,  by  one  Peter,  curate  of  St.  Mary  Colechurch, 
apparently  the  most  eminent  architect  of  his  day.  In  con- 
sequence, however,  of  the  perishable  nature  of  its  materials, 
and  the  great  expense  of  keeping  it  in  repair,  it  was  deter- 
mined to  replace  it  with  a  bridge  of  stone,  and  accordingly, 
between  the  years  1176  and  1209,  it  was  rebuilt  of  that 
material  under  the  auspices  of  the  same  Peter,  who  died 
about  four  years  previously  to  the  completion  of  his  great 
work. 

London  Bridge,  at  a  very  early  period  after  its  erection  of 
stone,  appears  to  have  had  a  row  of  houses  on  each  side  of 
it,  forming  a  narrow  and  continuous  street.  Besides  shops 
and  other  tenements,  it  had  its  chapel  dedicated  to  St. 
Thomas  a  Becket,  which  stood  on  the  east  side,  almost  in 
the  centre  of  the  bridge,  and  within  which  chapel  the  archi- 
tect, Peter  of  Colechurch,  was  buried.  It  had  also  a  draw- 
bridge, between  the  chapel  and  the  Southwark  end  of  the 
bridge,  which  was  not  only  useful  both  as  a  means  of 
defence,  but  as  enabling  vessels  with  masts  to  pass  up  the 
river.  The  drawbridge  was  protected  by  a  strong  tower ; 
besides  which  there  was  another  tower  at  the  Southwark 
end.  On  each  side  of  the  bridge,  between  the  houses,  were 


TENANTS  OF  LONDON  BRIDGE.  277 

three  openings,  which  afforded  passengers  a  view  of  the  river 
and  shipping.  The  houses  on  both  sides  are  described  as 
overhanging  the  river  in  a  manner  which  impressed  the 
mind  almost  with  terror. 

There  are  few  persons  in  whose  imaginations  old  London 
Bridge  is  not  associated  with  the  exposure  of  a  number  of 
grisly  heads  of  traitors  and  other  criminals,  which,  affixed  to 
poles,  gave  a  ghastly  appearance  to  the  bridge.  Till  the 
sixteenth  century,  the  place  where  these  heads  were  exposed 
was  the  top  of  the  drawbridge-tower.  In  consequence,  how- 
ever, of  this  tower  having  been  pulled  down,  and  replaced  by 
a  wooden  building  called  Nonsuch  House,  they  were  thence- 
forward affixed  on  the  tower  at  the  Southwark  end.  In 
1591,  the  German  traveller,  Hentzner,  counted  no  fewer  than 
thirty  heads  on  this  tower. 

The  old  stone  bridge,  commenced  by  Peter  of  Colechurch 
in  1176,  notwithstanding  numerous  accidents  by  flood  and 
fire,  retained  its  original  character  essentially  the  same  till 
the  year  1757,  when,  in  consequence  of  the  increase  of  traffic 
between  London  and  Southwark,  the  houses  were  pulled 
down.  "  I  well  remember,"  says  Pennant,  "  the  street  on 
London  Bridge,  narrow,  darksome,  and  dangerous  to  passen- 
gers from  the  multitude  of  carriages:  frequent  arches  of 
strong  timber  crossed  the  street,  from  the  tops  of  the  houses, 
to  keep  them  together,  and  from  falling  into  the  river. 
Nothing  but  use  could  preserve  the  rest  of  the  inmates,  who 
soon  grew  deaf  to  the  noise  of  the  falling  waters,  the  cla- 
mours of  watermen,  or  the  frequent  shrieks  of  drowning 
wretches.  Most  of  the  houses  were  tenanted  by  pin  or 
needle-makers,  and  economical  ladies  were  wont  to  drive 
from  the  St.  James's  end  of  the  town  to  make  cheap  pur- 
chases." The  old  bridge,  after  having  existed  for  upwards 
of  six  centuries,  was  at  length  taken  down  in  1832 ;  the  first 


278  TENANTS  OF  LONDON  BRIDGE. 

pile  of  the  present  magnificent  structure  having  previously 
been  driven  on  the  15th  of  March,  1824. 

The  appearance  of  old  London  Bridge,  with  its  gateway 
at  each  end,  its  drawbridge,  its  Gothic  chapel,  its  fortified 
towers,  and  its  rows  of  curiously-fashioned  houses  over- 
hanging the  rapid  and  roaring  river,  must  have  been  striking 
and  picturesque  in  the  extreme.  The  gloomy  thoroughfare 
between  the  houses  was,  at  the  widest  part,  only  twenty 
feet  in  breadth,  and  in  some  places  only  twelve.  We  have 
already  seen  from  Pennant's  description,  that  in  his  time 
the  houses  were  principally  occupied  by  a  colony  of  pin  or 
needle-makers.  Many  years  previously,  in  the  reign  of  Eli- 
zabeth, they  had  been  chiefly  tenanted  by  booksellers; 
indeed,  London  Bridge  enjoyed  then  nearly  the  same  kind 
of  literary  reputation,  as  St.  Paul's  Churchyard  and  Pater- 
noster Row  in  our  own  time.  Among  the  publishers'  signs 
on  the  bridge,  as  appears  by  the  title-pages  attached  to 
contemporary  publications,  were  the  "  Three  Bibles,"  the 
"Angel,"  and  the  "Looking  Glass;"  the  former  continuing 
to  exist  as  late  as  the  year  1724.  Early,  however,  in  the 
reign  of  Charles  the  First,  London  Bridge  appears  to  have 
lost  its  exclusive  character  for  harbouring  any  particular 
branch  of  trade.  Of  the  forty-three  houses  burnt  down  in 
a  frightful  conflagration  which  nearly  consumed  the  bridge 
in  1633,  one  was  inhabited  by  a  needle-maker,  eight  by 
haberdashers  of  small  wares,  six  by  hosiers,  five  by  haber- 
dashers of  hats,  one  by  a  shoemaker,  three  by  silkmen,  one 
by  a  milliner,  two  by  glovers,  two  by  mercers,  one  by  a 
distiller  of  strong  waters,  one  by  a  girdler,  one  by  a  linen- 
draper,  two  by  woollen-drapers,  one  by  a  salter,  two  by 
grocers,  one  by  a  scrivener,  one  by  the  curate  of  St.  Magnus 
Church,  one  by  the  clerk,  and  one  by  a  female  whose  occu- 
pation is  not  stated,  while  two  others  were  unoccupied. 


AST.  THOMAS  2  EEGKETS  CHAPEL.      279 

Of  the  value  of  the  houses  on  the  bridge  in  the  reign  of 
Edward  the  First,  some  curious  particulars  have  been  handed 
•down  to  us.  For  the  greater  number  of  the  houses  at  the 
Southwark  end,  the  Crown  received  only  eleven  shillings 
and  fourpence  rents  of  assize;  and  only  sixteen  shillings  and 
a  halfpenny  for  the  customs  on  goods  sold  there.  The  rent 
of  several  of  the  houses  amounted  to  no  more  than  three- 
halfpence,  and  twopence  halfpenny ;  and  a  fruiterer's  shop, 
described  to  have  been  two  yards  and  a  half,  and  one  thumb 
in  length,  and  three  yards  and  two  thumbs  in  depth,  was  let 
on  a  lease  from  the  bridgemaster  at  a  rental  of  twelvepence. 

We  have  already  made  a  passing  reference  to  the  two 
most  remarkable  buildings  on  the  bridge — namely,  the  chapel 
dedicated  to  St.  Thomas  a  Becket,  and  Nonsuch  House.  The 
former,  which  had  a  winding  staircase  leading  down  to 
the  river,  was  coeval  with  the  bridge  itself,  and  continued  to 
be  a  place  of  worship  till  the  Reformation.  It  was  of  black 
and  white  marble  pavement.  Its  crypt,  with  its  vaulted 
roof  and  elegant  clustered  columns,  is  said  to  have  been 
extremely  beautiful.  Within  the  starlings  of  the  pier  which 
supported  the  chapel  was  anciently  a  piscatorium,  or  fish- 
pond, covered  over  with  an  iron  grating  which  prevented 
the  escape  of  the  fish  that  had  been  carried  in  by  the  tide. 
Mr.  Thomson,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  so  many  interest- 
ing memorials  of  London  Bridge,  informs  us  that  in  1827 
there  was  still  living  one  of  the  old  functionaries  connected 
with  the  bridge — then  verging  upon  his  hundredth  year — 
who  well  remembered  having  descended  the  winding  stair- 
case leading  from  the  chapel,  in  order  to  fish  in  the  pond. 
About  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  the  venerable  old 
chapel  was  converted  into  a  warehouse  and  shop,  which,  in 
1737,  were  tenanted  by  a  Mr.  Yaldwyn.  This  person,  while 
repairing  a  staircase,  is  said  to  have  discovered  the  remains 


280  NONSUCH  HOUSE. 

of  a  sepulchral  monument,  which  there  was  every  reason  to 
believe  was  that  of  Peter  of  Colechurch,  the  architect  of  the 
bridge.  At  a  later  period  we  find  the  chapel  occupied  by  a 
Mr.  Baldwin,  a  haberdasher.  This  person,  when  in  his 
seventy-second  year,  was,  in  consequence  of  the  impaired 
state  of  his  health,  recommended  by  his  medical  adviser  to 
retire  for  a  time  into  the  country,  for  the  advantage  of  fresh 
air  and  'quiet.  Accordingly  he  proceeded  to  Chiselhurst ; 
but  so  accustomed  was  he  to  the  monotonous  roar  of  the 
river  as  it  rushed  through  the  narrow  arches  of  London 
Bridge,  that  the  contrasted  lull  and  stillness  of  the  country 
entirely  deprived  him  of  sleep. 

"  PetrucMo.     What,  are  they  mad  ?  have  we  another  Bedlam  ? 

They  do  not  talk,  I  hope  ? 
Sophocles.  Oh,  terribly, 

Extremely  fearfully  !  the  noise  at  London  Bridge 
Is  nothing  near  her." 

BEAUMONT  AND  FLETCHER  :    Woman's  Prize. 

The  last  individuals  who  occupied  St.  Thomas's  chapel,  pre- 
viously to  its  demolition,  were  a  Mr.  Gill  and  a  Mr.  Wright, 
during  whose  occupancy  it  was  used  as  a  paper  warehouse. 

Nonsuch  House  also,  at  the  period  of  its  destruction,  was. 
used  for  the  purposes  of  trade.  This  fantastic-looking  struc- 
ture— which  was  of  wood,  and  elaborately  carved — is  said  to 
have  been  brought  piecemeal  from  Holland,  and  to  have 
been  set  up  and  fixed  together  entirely  by  means  of  wooden 
pegs.  It  spanned  the  bridge ;  having  turrets  at  each  of  its 
four  corners  crowned  by  domes  and  surmounted  by  gilt 
weathercocks,  which  were  conspicuous  objects  from  almost 
every  part  of  the  metropolis. 

During  an  existence  of  upwards  of  six  centuries,  it  was 
natural  that  London  Bridge  should  have  been  subjected  to 
numerous  accidents  and  catastrophes.  On  the  night  of  the 
10th  of  July,  1212,  only  three  years  after  its  completion,  a 


FIRES  ON  LONDON  BRIDGE.  281 

dreadful  fire  took  place,  by  which  several  houses  were 
destroyed  and  a  great  number  of  persons  lost  their  lives. 
Unfortunately,  the  church  of  St.  Mary  Overy,  on  the  South- 
wark  side  of  the  river,  also  caught  fire,  and  a  strong  southerly 
wind  blowing  at  the  same  time,  the  flames  were  suddenly 
carried  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  bridge,  thus  hemming  in, 
in  a  single  narrow  causeway,  a  dense  mass  of  agonized 
human  beings.  Many  persons  were  trampled  to  death; 
others  leaped  into  the  river,  only  to  find  a  watery  grave ;  a 
still  greater  number  perished  in  the  flames.  According  to 
Stow — "  About  three  thousand  bodies  were  found  in  part  or 
half-burnt,  besides  those  that  were  wholly  burned  to  ashes, 
and  could  not  be  found." 

The  next  formidable  accident  which  appears  to  have  oc- 
curred to  London  Bridge,  was  in  1282,  at  the  breaking  up  of 
a  great  frost,  on  which  occasion  a  furious  wind,  added  to  a 
strong  tide  bearing  along  with  it  large  masses  of  floating  icer 
carried  away  five  of  the  arches. 

We  have  already  alluded  to  the  disastrous  fire  which  took 
place  on  the  night  of  the  13th  of  February,  1633,  when 
forty-three  tenements  were  destroyed.  Then  followed  the 
great  fire  of  1666,  which  swept  away  everything  before  it. 
The  last  fire  on  the  bridge  of  which  we  have  any  record, 
broke  out  on  the  night  of  the  8th  of  September,  1725,  when 
several  houses  were  laid  in  ruins. 

Many  of  our  readers  may  remember  well  the  almost  ter- 
rific falls  of  water  which,  at  the  retreat  of  the  tide,  poured 
through  the  narrow  arches  of  old  London  Bridge.  Thousands 
of  lives  had  been  lost  in  descending  these  falls,  yet  for  cen- 
turies apparently  no  attempt  had  been  made  to  abate  the 
grievance.  "  Of  the  multitudes,"  says  Pennant,  "  who  have 
perished  in  this  rapid  descent,  the  names  of  no  one  of  any 
note  have  reached  my  knowledge,  except  that  of  Mr.  Temple, 


282  SUICIDES  UNDER  LONDON  BRIDGE. 

only  son  of  the  great  Sir  William  Temple.  His  end  was 
dreadful,  as  it  was  premeditated.  He  had  a  week  before 
accepted  from  King  William  the  office  of  Secretary  at  War. 
On  the  14th  of  April,  1689,  he  hired  a  boat  on  the  Thames, 
and  ^directed  the  waterman  to  shoot  the  bridge ;  at  that 
instant  he  flung  himself  into  the  torrent,  and,  having  filled 
his  pockets  with  stones  to  destroy  all  chance  of  safety,  in- 
stantly sunk.  In  the  boat  was  found  a  note  to  this  effect : — 
'  My  folly  in  undertaking  what  I  could  not  perform,  whereby 
some  misfortunes  have  befallen  the  King's  service,  is  the 
cause  of  my  putting  myself  to  this  sudden  end.  I  wish  him 
success  in  all  his  undertakings,  and  a  better  servant.' " 

Another  remarkable  case  of  self-destruction  between  the 
arches  of  old  London  Bridge  was  that  of  the  unfortunate 
Eustace  Budgell,  in  1737.  Budgell,  as  is  well  known,  was  a 
relation  of  Addison,  and  the  writer  of  some  papers  in  the 
"  Spectator."  Being  threatened  with  a  prosecution,  on  a 
charge  of  having  forged  the  will  of  Dr.  Tindal,  in  which  he 
had  provided  himself  with  a  legacy  of  £2000,  he  determined 
to  put  an  end  to  his  existence. 

"  Let  Budgell  charge  low  Grub  Street  on  his  quill, 
And  write  whate'er  he  please, — except  my  will." — POPE. 

Accordingly,  having  previously  filled  his  pockets  with  stones, 
as  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Temple,  he  hired  a  wherry  at  the  stairs 
of  Somerset  House,  and,  just  as  the  boat  was  passing  under 
London  Bridge,  suddenly  threw  himself  into  the  water,  and 
was  immediately  drowned.  In  his  escritoire  was  found  a 
.short  scrap  of  a  will,  written  a  day  or  two  before  his  death, 
in  which  he  bequeathed  the  whole  of  his  personal  property 
to  his  natural  daughter,  Anne  Budgell,  then  about  eleven 
years  old,  who  afterwards  became  an  actress  of  some  cele- 
brity, and  who  died  at  Bath  about  the  year  1775.  It  was 
rumoured  at  the  time  that  he  had  endeavoured  to  persuade 


EDWARD  THE  BLACK  PRINCE.  283 

her  to  accompany  him  and  share  his  fate,  but  the  circum- 
stance of  his  carefully  bequeathing  her  his  property  goes  far 
to  refute  the  truth  of  the  story.  In  his  bureau  were  found 
the  following  lines  : — 

"  What  Cato  did,  and  Addison  approved, 
Cannot  be  wrong." 

As  if,  because  the  Roman  hero  of  Addison's  tragedy  hap- 
pened to  commit  suicide,  Addison  himself  was  an  advocate 
for  self-destruction.  Boswell,  in  his  "  Life  of  Johnson,"  ob- 
serves : — "  We  talked  of  a  man's  drowning  himself.  JOHN- 
SON :  '  I  should  never  think  it  time  to  make  away  with 
myself.'  I  put  the  case  of  Eustace  Budgell,  who  was  accused 
of  forging  a  will,  and  sunk  himself  in  the  Thames  before  the 
trial  of  its  authenticity  came  on.  '  Suppose,  Sir,'  said  I, 
'  that  a  man  is  absolutely  sure  that  if  he  lives  a  few  days 
longer  he  shall  be  detected  in  a  fraud,  the  consequence  of 
which  will  be  utter  disgrace  and  expulsion  from  society  ?' 
JOHNSON  :  '  Then,  Sir,  let  him  go  abroad  to  a  distant 
country ;  let  him  go  to  some  place  where  he  is  not  known. 
Don't  let  him  go  to  the  Devil,  where  he  is  known.' " 

Old  London  Bridge  is  associated  with  some  of  the  most 
interesting  events  in  the  history  of  our  country.  It  was 
across  this  famous  thoroughfare  that,  on  the  24th  of  May, 
1357,  Edward  the  Black  Prince  rode  side  by  side  with  his 
illustrious  prisoner,  John  King  of  France,  whom  he  had 
recently  taken  captive  at  the  battle  of  Poictiers.  At  South- 
wark  they  were  met  by  a  cavalcade  of  the  principal  citizens, 
in  their  scarlet  robes  and  gold  chains ;  so  great  being  the 
concourse  of  people,  that  although  the  cavalcade  passed  over 
London  Bridge  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  it  was  high 
noon  before  they  reached  Westminster  Hall,  where  King 
Edward  the  Third  was  seated  on  his  throne  prepared  to  do 


28.4  WAT  TYLER. 


them  honour.  The  French  monarch,  we  are  told,  sumptu- 
ously arrayed  in  regal  apparel,  was  mounted  oil  a  cream- 
coloured  charger  covered  with  splendid  trappings,  while  the 
Black  Prince,  in  order  to  avoid  every  appearance  of  triumph, 
contented  himself  with  riding  by  his  side  on  a  black  pony. 
King  Edward  had  previously  issued  orders  to  the  Lord 
Mayor,  Sir  Henry  Picard,  to  receive  the  captive  monarch 
with  all  the  respect  due  to  his  misfortunes  and  to  his  exalted 
rank.  Accordingly,  the  houses  on  London  Bridge,  as  well 
as  in  the  different  streets  through  which  the  procession 
passed,  were  hung  with  the  richest  tapestry,  and  adorned 
with  plate  and  glittering  armour.  "  The  citizens,"  writes 
Knyghton,  "  especially  boasted  of  their  warlike  furniture, 
and  exposed  that  day  in  their  shops,  windows,  and  balconies, 
such  an  incredible  quantity  of  bows  and  arrows,  shields,  hel- 
mets, corslets,  breast  and  back -plates,  coats  of  mail,  gaunt- 
lets, vambraces,  swords,  spears,  battle-axes,  harness  for  horses, 
and  other  armour,  both  offensive  and  defensive,  that  the  like 
had  never  been  seen  in  memory  of  man  before."  We  have 
already  mentioned  that  the  Lord  Mayor,  Sir  Henry  Picard, 
had  subsequently  the  honour  of  entertaining  no  fewer  than 
four  monarchs  at  his  house  in  the  Vintry,  namely,  Edward 
the  Third,  John  King  of  France,  David  King  of  Scotland, 
and  the  King  of  Cyprus,  besides  Edward  the  Black  Prince 
and  the  principal  nobility  of  the  realm. 

The  circumstance  of  London  Bridge  having  been  the  only 
land  communication  between  the  southern  counties  and  the 
metropolis,  has  rendered  it  on  many  occasions  the  scene  of 
conflict  and  slaughter.  In  spite  of  its  formidable  defences, 
Wat  Tyler,  on  the  13th  of  June,  1381,  forced  his  way  over 
it  into  the  metropolis  at  the  head  of  the  Kentish  rebels. 
Froissart  describes  them  as  shouting  and  yelling  in  their 
progress,  "  as  though  all  the  devylles  of  hell  had  been  amonge 


REMARKABLE  SINGLE  COMBAT.  285 

them."     At  first  the  warders  refused  to  let  down  the  draw- 
bridge ;  but  the  insurgents,  having  terrified  them  into  obe- 
dience, rushed  impetuously  forward,  and  pouring  themselves 
into  the  City  commenced  those  fearful  acts  of  devastation 
and  bloodshed  of  which  we  have  fortunately  but  few  parallel 
cases  in  our  history.     On  London  Bridge,  too,  it  was,  on  St. 
George's  Day,  1395,  that  John  Lord  Welles,  the  champion  of 
English  chivalry,  and  David  Lindsay,  Earl  of  Crawford,  as 
the  representative  of  Scottish  chivalry,  met  to  decide  by 
single  combat  the  claims  of  their  two  countries  to  superiority 
of  valour.     Lord  Welles  had  fought  under  the  banner  of 
John  Duke  of  Lancaster  during  the  wars  of  Edward  the 
Third.     He  had  subsequently  served  with  distinction  in  the 
Scottish  campaigns ;  and,  on  the  return  of  peace,  was  ap- 
pointed  by  Richard  the  Second  his  Ambassador  in  that 
country.     "  As  soon,"  we  are  told,  "  as  the  day  of  battle  was 
come,  both  the  parties  were  conveyed  to  the  bridge,  and 
soon  after,  by  sound  of  trumpet,  the  two  parties  ran  hastily 
together,  on   their   barbed   horses,  with   square   grounden 
spears,   to   the   death.      Earl   David,   notwithstanding  the 
valiant  dint  of  spears  broken  on  his  helmet  and  visage,  sat 
so  strongly,  that  the  people,  moved  with  vain  suspicion, 
cried,  '  Earl  David,  contrary  to  the  laws,  is  bound  to  the 
saddle.'     Earl  David,  hearing  this  murmur,  dismounted  oft' 
his  horse,  and  without  any  support  or  help  ascended  again 
into  the  saddle.     Incontinent  they  rushed  together  with  the 
new  spears  the  second  time,  with  burning  ire  to  conquer 
honour ;  but  in  the  third  course  the  Lord  Welles  was  sent 
out  of  his  saddle,  with  such  a  violence  that  he  fell  to  the 
ground.    Earl  David,  seeing  his  fall,  dismounted  hastily  from 
his  horse,  and  tenderly  embraced  him,  that  the  people  might 
understand  he  fought  with  no  hatred,  but  only  for  the  glory 
of  victory ;  and  in  the  sign  of  more  humanity  he  visited 


286  HENRY  V.'S  TRIUMPHAL  PROCESSION. 

him  every  day  while  he  recovered  his  health,  and  then  re- 
turned into  Scotland." 

It  was  over  London  Bridge,  on  the  13th  of  November, 
1396,  that  Richard  the  Second  conducted  his  young  bride, 
Isabella,  eldest  daughter  of  Charles  the  Sixth  of  France,  to 
whom  he  had  been  married  in  the  church  of  St.  Nicholas  at 
Calais,  on  the  31st  of  the  preceding  month.  The  King 
brought  her,  we  are  told,  "  with  all  the  honour  that  might 
be  devised,"  from  Dover  to  the  palace  of  Westminster  ;  such 
multitudes  flocking  to  behold  their  progress,  that  on  London 
Bridge  "  nine  persons  were  crowded  to  death,"  among  whom 
was  the  Prior  of  the  Austin  Canons  at  Tiptree,  in  Essex. 

The  next  event  of  any  interest  connected  with  old  London 
Bridge,  occurred  on  the  23rd  of  November,  1415,  when 
Henry  the  Fifth  passed  over  it  on  his  return  from  his  great 
victory  of  Agincourt.  The  citizens  of  London,  as  usual  on 
such  occasions,  had  prepared  a  magnificent  pageant  to  cele- 
brate the  return  of  their  chivalrous  monarch.  According  to 
Lydgate,  at  the  Southwark  gate  stood  the  figure  of  a  giant, 
"  full  grim  of  might,  to  teach  the  penal  men  curtesye ;"  and 
at  the  drawbridge  towers  were  erected  figures  of  lions  and 
antelopes,  with  a  colossal  statue  of  St.  George  surrounded  by 
numerous  angels.  The  King's  whole  journey  from  Dover  to 
London  resembled  a  triumph.  "  I  might  declare  unto  you," 
writes  Hall  the  chronicler,  "  how  the  Mayor  of  London  and 
the  Senate,  apparelled  in  grained  scarlet — how  three  hundred 
commoners  clad  in  beautiful  murrey,  well  mounted  and  gor- 
geously horsed,  with  rich  collars  and  great  chains — met  the 
King  at  Blackheath,  rejoicing  at  his  victorious  return ;  how 
the  clergy  of  London  with  rich  crosses,  and  sumptuous  copes, 
received  him  at  St.  Thomas  of  Watering,  with  solemn  pro- 
cession, lauding  and  praising  God  for  the  high  honour  and  vic- 
tory to  him  given  and  granted  :  but  all  these  things  I  omit." 


HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  287 

On  the  7th  of  May  the  following  year,  London  Bridge 
presented  a  scarcely  less  stirring  and  magnificent  scene,  on 
the  occasion  of  the  arrival  of  the  German  Emperor  Sigis- 
mund,  in  England.  At  Blackheath  he  was  met  by  a  large 
concourse  of  knights  and  noblemen,  who  conducted  him 
in  triumph  over  London  Bridge,  and  thence  through  the 
streets  to  the  palace  of  Westminster.  Over  London  Bridge, 
also,  in  February,  1421,  Henry  the  Fifth  passed  with  his 
young  Queen,  Katherine,  daughter  of  Charles  the  Sixth,  to 
whom  he  had  recently  been  united  in  France.  "  Marvel 
it  is  to  write,"  says  Hall,  "  but  marvel  it  was  to  see  with 
what  joy,  what  triumph,  what  solace,  and  what  rejoicing  he 
was  received  of  all  his  subjects,  but  in  especial  of  the  Lon- 
doners, which  for  tediousness  I  overpass."  On  the  31st  of 
August,  the  following  year,  in  the  zenith  of  his  triumphant 
career,  Henry  breathed  his  last  in  the  Bois  de  Vincennes, 
near  Paris.  Exactly  seven  years  after  the  day  on  which  the 
victor  had  ridden  in  triumph  over  London  Bridge  after  the 
battle  of  Agincourt,  the  funeral  car  which  contained  his  re- 
mains rolled  over  the  same  thoroughfare.  The  car,  drawn 
by  six  horses,  supported  a  recumbent  effigy  of  the  deceased 
monarch,  magnificently  arrayed  in  the  robes  of  sovereignty. 
"  Upon  the  head,"  we  are  told,  "  was  set  an  imperial  dia- 
dem of  gold  and  precious  stones ;  on  the  body  a  purple  robe 
furred  with  ermine  ;  in  his  right  hand  a  sceptre  royal ;  and 
in  his  left  hand  a  ball  of  gold  with  a  cross  fixed  thereon  ; 
and,  in  this  manner  adorned,  was  this  figure  laid  in  a  bed  in 
the  said  chariot,  with  his  visage  uncovered  towards  the 
heavens;  and  the  coverture  of  his  bed  was  of  red  silk,, 
beaten  with  gold." 

When  his  youthful  successor,  Henry  the  Sixth,  ap- 
proached London  after  his  coronation  at  Paris,  he  was 
met  at  Blackheath  by  a  large  assemblage  of  the  citizens,  wha 


288  HENRY  THE  SIXTH. 

conducted  him  witli  great  pomp  across  London  Bridge  to 
the  palace  of  his  Saxon  predecessors  at  Westminster.  On 
reaching  the  middle  of  the  bridge,  according  to  Stow,  the 
king  was  encountered  by  a  "  mighty  giant,"  who,  "  with 
a  sword  drawn  in  his  hand,  had  certain  written  speeches  in 
metre,  of  great  rejoicing  and  welcoming  of  the  king  to  the 
city."  Three  years  afterwards,  on  the  28th  of  May,  1445 — 
on  the  occasion  of  the  arrival  in  England  of  Henry's  bride, 
Margaret  of  Anjou,  London  Bridge  was  again  the  scene  of 
military  and  fantastic  pageantry.  During  this  reign  also 
more  than  one  sanguinary  conflict  took  place  on  the  bridge. 
Here,  in  1450,  the  famous  fight  took  place  between  Jack 
Cade  and  the  citizens  of  London,  in  which  many  lives  were 
lost,  and  the  houses  on  the  bridge  set  on  fire.  "  Alas !"  says 
Hall,  "  what  sorrow  it  was  to  behold  that  miserable  chance  ! 
for  some,  desiring  to  eschew  the  fire,  leapt  on  his  enemy's 
weapon  and  so  died ;  fearful  women,  with  children  in  their 
arms,  amazed  and  appalled,  leapt  into  the  river;  others, 
doubting  how  to  save  themselves,  between  fire,  water,  and 
sword,  were  in  their  houses  suffocated  and  smothered." 
Eighteen  years  afterwards,  in  1468,  we  find  the  citizens 
valiantly  and  successfully  defending  the  bridge  against  the 
assault  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Gates,  who,  in  revenge  for  his  repulse, 
pillaged  Southwark,  Bermondsey,  and  other  hamlets  on  the 
south  side  of  the  Thames. 

But  perhaps  the  most  furious  and  important  conflict 
which  ever  took  place  on  London  Bridge,  was  fought  on 
the  14th  of  May,  1471,  when  the  Bastard  of  Falconbridge, 
at  the  head  of  seventeen  thousand  men,  attempted  to  force 
his  way  into  London,  in  the  hope  of  releasing  his  unfortu- 
nate sovereign  Henry  the  Sixth,  then  a  prisoner  in  the 
Tower.  The  citizens,  however,  were  devotedly  attached  to 
the  House  of  York,  and  in  vain  did  the  Bastard,  by  his  voice 


\ 


WOLSETS  REGAL  SPLENDOUR.  289 

and  example,  urge  on  his  followers  to  fresh  acts  of  valour. 
He  succeeded,  indeed,  in  forcing  the  Southwark  gate,  which 
he  set  fire  to  ;  but  here  his  progress  was  arrested  by  the  de- 
termined resistance  of  the  citizens,  and  within  a  few  weeks 
his  severed  head  was  to  be  seen  a  conspicuous  object  on  the 
very  defences  which  had  so  recently  witnessed  his  valour. 

On  the  12th  of  November,  1501,  we  find  the  iU-fated 
Catherine  of  Aragon  escorted  in  great  state  by  the  citizens 
of  London  over  London  Bridge,,  when  on  her  way  to  be 
married  to  Prince  Arthur,  elder  brother  of  Henry  the 
Eighth.  It  was  along  the  same  thoroughfare  that  her 
arch-enemy,  Cardinal  Wolsey,  subsequently  passed  in  more 
than  regal  splendour  when  proceeding  as  ambassador  to 
France.  According  to  Cavendish,  he  rode  on  a  mule  sump- 
tuously caparisoned  with  crimson  velvet ;  there  being  carried 
in  front  of  him  two  great  crosses  of  silver,  two  large  pillars 
of  the  same  metal,  the  great  seal  of  England,  and  the  cardi- 
nal's hat.  The  procession  was  headed  by  a  vast  number  of 
sumpter-mules,  carts,  and  carriages,  guarded  by  armed  men 
bearing  bows  and  spears.  Next  came  "  of  gentlemen,  a  great 
number,  three  in  a  rank,  in  black  velvet  livery-coats,  and 
the  most  part  of  them  with  great  chains  of  gold  about  their 
necks  ;  and  all  his  yeomen,  with  noblemen's  and  gentlemen's 
servants  following  him,  in  French  tawny  livery-coats,  having 
embroidered  upon  the  backs  and  breasts  of  the  said  coats, 
these  letters,  T.  and  C.,  under  the  cardinal's  hat."  The  Car- 
dinal himself  brought  up  the  rear. 

The  next  interesting  event  connected  with  London  Bridge 
is  one  entirely  of  a  domestic  nature,  but  is  not  on  that  ac- 
count the  less  deserving  of  notice.  We  allude  to  a  well- 
known  and  romantic  incident  to  which  the  house  of  Osborne 
owes  its  ducal  honours.  The  hero  of  the  tale  was  a  young 
man,  named  Edward  Osborne,  who  was  apprentice  to  a  citi- 

VOL.  II.  19 


290  EDWARD  OSBORNE. 

zen  and  clothworker,  named  William  Hewet,  afterwards 
knighted,  whose  residence  was  in  one  of  the  houses  on  Lon- 
don Bridge,  overlooking  the  rapid  stream.  Sir  "William  had 
an  only  and  beloved  daughter,  Anne,  who  in  the  year  1536, 
either  while  playing  with  the  servant  who  had  the  charge 
of  her,  or  losing  her  balance  while  leaning  out  of  a  window, 
accidentally  fell  into  the  river.  Young  Osborne,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  a  witness  of  the  disaster,  without  a  moment's 
hesitation  leapt  after  her  and  rescued  her  from  a  watery 
grave.  It  was  an  act  of  generous  gallantry  which  was 
never  forgotten  by  the  fond  father.  Years  rolled  on ;  the 
clothworker  had  achieved  the  highest  civic  honours,  and 
had  become  the  wealthiest  citizen  in  London.  Love  in  the 
mean  time  had  sprung  up  between  the  gallant  apprentice 
and  the  fair  girl ;  but  unfortunately  the  reputation  of  her 
father's  wealth  had  surrounded  her  with  a  host  of  noble  ad- 
mirers, among  whom  is  said  to  have  been  George,  fourth 
Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  who,  though  advanced  in  years,  was  a 
man  not  unworthy  of  winning  so  fair  a  prize.  The  chances 
of  success  were  certainly  greatly  against  the  humble  but 
gallant  apprentice.  Sir  Willam  Hewet,  however,  tempting 
as  was  the  opportunity  of  aggrandizing  his  family,  was  true 
to  the  interests  and  the  happiness  of  the  preserver  of  his 
child.  "  Osborne,"  he  said,  "  saved  her,  and  Osborne  shall 
enjoy  her."  In  due  time  they  were  married ;  and  subse- 
quently Osborne  became  possessed  of  the  vast  property  of 
his  father-in-law.  He  was  advanced  to  be  Sheriff  of  Lon- 
don in  1575,  to  be  Lord  Mayor  in  1582,  and  in  1585  he  was 
elected  to  represent  the  City  in  Parliament. 

It  was  on  the  3rd  of  February,  1554,  shortly  after  the 
accession  of  Queen  Mary,  that  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt  made  his 
famous  and  ill-advised  attempt  to  force  the  defences  of 
London  Bridge.  The  citizens  of  London,  however,  were 


WYATTS  INSURRECTION.  291 

prepared  to  receive  the  daring  insurgent  with  the  gallantry 
with  which,  for  centuries,  they  had  resisted  similar  rebellious 
attempts.  Cannon  were  planted  on  the  bridge ;  the  bridge- 
gates  were  closed;  and  the  drawbridge,  instead  of  being 
merely  raised,  as  was  in  the  case  of  Wat  Tyler's  insurrec- 
tion, was  cut  down  and  thrown  into  the  river.  The  mayor 
and  aldermen,  moreover,  issued  orders  to  the  citizens  to  close 
their  doors  and  windows ;  enjoining  them  to  be  "  ready- 
harnessed  at  their  doors,"  prepared  for  any  emergency. 
These  precautions  had  the  desired  effect.  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt, 
having  published  at  Maidstone  his  declaration  against  the 
Queen's  evil  advisers  and  the  proposed  matrimonial  alliance 
with  Spain,  advanced  with  his  forces  to  Southwark,  where, 
instead  of  finding  the  citizens  prepared  to  receive  him  with 
the  ardour  which  he  had  anticipated,  he  had  the  mortifica- 
tion to  discover  that  they  were  resolved  to  resist  him  to  the 
last.  The  result  is  well  known.  Finding  that  the  bridge 
was  secured  against  him,  he  led  his  forces  to  Kingston  on 
Thames,  where  he  crossed  the  river  with  4000  men.  He 
then  directed  his  course  towards  London,  where  he  still  hoped 
to  effect  a  successful  rising ;  but  though  he  entered  Westmin- 
ster without  opposition,  his  followers,  finding  that  he  was 
joined  by  no  person  either  of  rank  or  influence,  gradually 
deserted  his  standard,  and  he  himself  having  been  seized 
by  Sir  Maurice  Berkeley  near  Temple  Bar,  was  shortly  after- 
wards executed. 

It  was  rather  more  than  a  century  after  this  event  that 
London  Bridge  presented  a  gay  and  stirring  scene  on  the 
occasion  of  Charles  the  Second  making  his  entry  into  the 
metropolis  after  his  almost  miraculous  Restoration.  He  was 
attended  by  General  Monk,  afterwards  Duke  of  Albemarle, 
and  by  the  Dukes  of  York,  Gloucester,  and  Buckingham.  In 
his  progress  from  Dover  to  London,  the  most  costly  prepara- 

19—2 


292          ENTRY  OF  CHARLES  II.  INTO  LONDON. 

tions,  and  the  wildest  effusions  of  joy,  had  encountered  him 
at  every  step.  The  road  was  everywhere  thronged  with 
spectators :  on  Barham  Downs  he  was  met  by  a  brilliant 
train  of  the  neighbouring  nobility  and  gentry  "  clad  in  very 
rich  apparel;"  at  Blackheath  the  army  were  drawn  up,  and 
received  him  with  loud  acclamations  of  fervent  joy;  and  in 
the  town  of  Deptford,  a  hundred  young  girls,  dressed  in 
white,  walked  before  the  King,  and  strewed  flowers  in  his 
path.  In  the  towns  through  which  he  passed,  the  houses 
were  everywhere  decorated  with  silken  streamers,  ribands, 
and  garlands  of  flowers,  and  music  and  acclamations  were 
the  only  sounds  which  met  his  ear.  In  the  villages,  the  joy 
of  the  country  people  was  not  less  fervently  displayed  ;  the 
old  music  of  tabor  and  pipe,  as  well  as  their  favourite  mor- 
rice-dances,  and  other  rural  games  and  sports,  adding  con- 
siderably to  the  effect  of  the  joyous  scene.  In  St.  George's 
Fields,  Southwark,  the  King  was  met  by  the  Lord  Mayor 
and  Aldermen  of  London  in  their  scarlet  gowns,  who  con- 
ducted him  to  a  large  tent  covered  with  rich  tapestry,  where 
he  was  entertained  with  a  magnificent  banquet.  The  remark 
made  by  Charles,  on  the  enthusiasm  which  everywhere 
greeted  him,  is  well  known.  It  must  have  been  his  own 
fault,  he  said,  that  he  had  been  so  long  absent,  for  his  sub- 
jects seemed  to  be  unanimous  in  promoting  his  return.  Thus 
welcomed,  and  almost  worshipped,  the  young  monarch 
passed  over  London  Bridge  amidst  the  roar  of  cannon  and 
the  acclamations  of  thousands.  The  houses  on  each  side  of 
the  bridge,  as  well  as  in  the  different  streets  through  which 
he  passed,  were  hung  with  tapestry  and  garlands  of  flowers ; 
bands  of  music  struck  up  their  congratulatory  notes  at 
stated  places ;  the  train-bands  of  the  City,  in  rich  dresses, 
lined  the  principal  street,  and  the  City  conduits  flowed  with 
wine.  At  night  the  sky  was  alight  with  illuminations, 


BISHOP  FISHERS  HEAD.  293 

bonfires,  and  fireworks,  and  the  people  were  regaled  with  a 
profusion  of  wine  and  food. 

We  have  already  alluded  to  the  number  of  ghastly  heads, 
which,  elevated  on  poles  on  London  Bridge,  grinned  horribly 
on  the  passer-by.  To  enumerate  the  names  of  the  host  of 
decapitated  persons  whose  heads  were  thus  exposed,  would 
comprise  a  long  and  melancholy  catalogue.  After  the 
destruction  of  the  drawbridge-tower  in  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, the  building  on  which  the  heads  of  malefactors  was 
exposed  was  the  tower  at  the  Southwark  end  of  the  bridge. 
It  is  a  fact  that  within  this  tower  was  a  cooking  apparatus 
and  cauldron,  in  which  the  heads  and  quarters  of  those  who 
had  been  executed  for  high  treason,  were  parboiled,  and 
underwent  a  regular  process  for  preserving  them  against  the 
effects  of  the  atmosphere.  The  heads  were  then  elevated  on 
the  defences  of  the  bridge,  and  the  quarters  packed  off  to 
be  exposed  on  the  gates  of  the  principal  cities  in  the  king- 
dom. Among  the  most  remarkable  persons  whose  remains 
were  thus  mangled,  and  whose  heads  were  exposed  on  Lon- 
don Bridge,  may  be  mentioned  the  illustrious  Scottish  patriot 
William  Wallace,  and  his  dauntless  companion-in-arms  Sir 
Simon  Frazer ;  the  Earls  of  Fife  and  Monteith,  who  were 
taken  prisoners  at  the  battle  of  Neville's  Cross;  Simon 
Sudbury,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who  was  murdered  by 
the  rebels  in  Wat  Tyler's  insurrection ;  the  Earl  of  Hunting- 
don, brother-in-law  to  Henry  the  Fourth ;  the  stout  and 
venerable  Earl  of  Northumberland,  father  of  Harry  Hotspur ; 
the  bastard  Falconbridge ;  the  wise  and  witty  Sir  Thomas 
More,  and  the  pious  and  learned  John  Fisher,  Bishop  of 
Rochester. 

With  regard  to  the  exposure  of  the  head  of  Bishop  Fisher, 
a  curious  anecdote  is  related  by  the  chronicler  Hall.  "  The 
head,"  he  says,  "  being  parboiled,  was  prickt  upon  a  pole, 


294  HEAD  OF  SIR  THOMAS  MORE. 

and  set  on  high  upon  London  Bridge,  among  the  rest  of  the 
holy  Carthusians'  heads  that  suffered  death  lately  before 
him.  And  here  I  cannot  omit  to  declare  unto  you  the  mira- 
culous sight  of  this  head,  which,  afte"r  it  had  stood  up  the 
space  of  fourteen  days  upon  the  bridge,  could  not  be  per- 
ceived to  waste  nor  consume,  neither  for  the  weather,  which 
was  then  very  hot,  neither  for  the  parboiling  in  hot  water, 
but  grew  daily  fresher  and  fresher,  so  that  in  his  lifetime 
he  never  looked  so  well ;  for  his  cheeks  being  beautified 
with  a  comely  red,  the  face  looked  as  though  it  had  beholden 
the  people  passing  by,  and  would  have  spoken  to  them." 

The  head  of  Sir  Thomas  More  is  said  to  have  retained  in 
a  scarcely  less  singular  manner,  and  for  a  still  longer  period, 
the  appearance  of  vitality  and  health.  At  the  time  of  his 
death  his  hair  had  become  grey,  but  (as  in  the  case  of 
Charles  the  First,  whose  remains  were  discovered  in  St. 
George's  Chapel  at  Windsor  in  1813)  the  colour  appears  to 
have  changed  after  death  to  a  "  reddish  or  yellow "  hue. 
The  head  of  this  great  man,  it  is  said,  was  about  to  be 
thrown  into  the  Thames  in  order  to  make  room  for  that  of 
some  later  victim,  when  his  beloved  daughter,  Mrs.  Roper, 
contrived  to  obtain  possession  of  it.  As  before  related  she 
preserved  it  in  a  leaden  box  till  the  day  of  her  death,  when, 
it  was  placed  in  her  arms  and  interred  with  her  in  the 
family  vault  of  the  Ropers,  in  St.  Dunstan's  Church,  Can- 
terbury. 

We  must  not  omit  to  mention  that  the  illustrious  painter, 
Hans  Holbein,  is  said  to  have  resided  at  one  period  of  his 
life  in  one  of  the  houses  on  London  Bridge.  According  to 
Horace  Walpole — "  The  father  of  the  Lord  Treasurer  Oxford, 
passing  over  London  Bridge,  was  caught  in  a  shower,  when, 
stepping  into  a  goldsmith's  shop  for  shelter,  he  found  there 
the  picture  of  Holbein,  who  had  lived  in  that  house,  and  of 


HANS  HOLBEIN.  295 


his  family.  He  offered  the  goldsmith  a  hundred  pounds  for 
it,  who  consented  to  let  him  have  it,  but  desired  first  to 
show  it  to  some  persons.  Immediately  after  happened  the 
fire  of  London,  and  the  picture  was  destroyed."  In 
London  Bridge  also  resided,  at  later  periods,  two  eminent 
painters  of  marine  subjects,  Peter  Monamy,  and  Dominic  de 
Serres. 


THE  FIRE  OF  LONDON. 

WHERE  THE  FIRE  ORIGINATED.  — CHARLES  II. 's  NOBLE  CONDUCT.  — PEPYS'S 
ACCOUNT  OF  THE  FIRE. — EVELYN'S  "DIARY."  —  FARRYNER's  ACCOUNT  OF 
THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  FIRE.— ATTRIBUTED  TO  THE  ROMAN  CATHOLICS. — 
THE  MONUMENT. — ORIGINAL  INSCRIPTION. — DAMAGE  CAUSED  BY  THE  FIRE. 
— DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  MONUMENT. 


H 


OW  few  are  there,  who  have  stood  on  Fish  Street 
Hill— 

"Where  London's  column,  pointing  at  the  skies, 
Like  a  tall  bully,  lifts  the  head,  and  lies/'- 

who  have  not  lingered  to  ruminate  on  that  fearful  confla- 
gration, which  the  magnificent  column  before  us  was  raised 
to  commemorate !  Near  this  spot  was  kindled  and  broke 
out  that  raging  and  memorable  flame,  which,  driven  irre- 
sistibly forward  by  a  furious  wind,  fed  itself  in  its  fierce 
course  alike  with  the  gilded  palaces  of  the  rich  and  the 
humble  dwellings  of  the  poor,  deafening  the  ear  with  the 
sound  of  falling  roofs  and  crackling  timbers,  and  lighting 
up  the  Thames  till  it  gleamed  like  a  lake  of  fire ;  destroying 
out  of  the  twenty-six  wards  of  the  City  no  fewer  than  fifteen, 
and  leaving  the  remainder  scorched,  ruinous,  and  uninhabit- 
able ;  consuming  the  massive  gates  of  the  City,  the  Guildhall, 
eighty -nine  churches,  the  magnificent  cathedral  of  St.  Paul's, 
numbers  of  schools,  hospitals,  libraries,  and  other  public 
structures,  four  hundred  streets,  and  thirteen  thousand 
dwelling-houses ;  and  at  last,  after  having  raged  during 


FIRE  OF  LONDON.  297 

four  days  and  four  nights,  leaving  a  tract  of  ruin  and  de- 
solation extending  over  no  fewer  than  four  hundred  and 
thirty-six  acres  ! 

The  Great  Fire  of  London  broke  out  at  twelve  o'clock  on 
the  night  of  the  2nd  of  September,  1666,  at  the  house  of 
one  Farryner,  the  King's  baker  in  Pudding  Lane,  at  the 
distance  of  two  hundred  and  two  feet  (the  height  of  the 
column)  to  the  eastward  of  the  spot  where  the  Monument 
now  stands.  The  progress  of  the  flames,  chiefly  in  conse- 
quence of  the  high  wind  which  prevailed,  was  inconceivably 
rapid.  Unfortunately  not  only  were  the  thoroughfares  in 
the  neighbourhood  extremely  narrow,  but  the  houses  were 
chiefly  composed  of  wood  and  plaster,  and  many  of  them 
had  thatched  roofs.  The  suddenness,  too,  of  the  catastrophe, 
the  furious  rapidity  with  which  the  fire  extended  itself,  and 
the  awful  sublimity  of  the  scene,  appear  to  have  rendered 
the  populace  utterly  helpless.  "  The  conflagration,"  writes 
an  eye-witness,*  "  was  so  universal,  and  the  people  so  asto- 
nished, that  from  the  beginning,  I  know  not  by  what  despon- 
dency or  fate,  they  hardly  stirred  to  quench  it ;  so  that  there 
was  nothing  heard  or  seen  but  crying  out  and  lamentation, 
running  about  like  distracted  creatures,  without  at  all  at- 
tempting to  save  even  their  goods ;  such  a  strange  conster- 
nation was  there  upon  them." 

The  Lord  Mayor,  moreover,  on  whose  energy  and  presence 
of  mind  so  much  depended,  appears  to  have  been  a  person 
totally  unqualified  to  act  the  part  required  of  him.  In  sin- 
gular opposition  to  the  conduct  of  the  affrighted  functionary, 
was  that  of  Charles  the  Second,  who,  hurrying  personally  to 
the  scene,  acted  sensibly,  nobly,  and  energetically ;  issuing 
the  wisest  directions,  as  well  to  preserve  order,  as  to  amelio- 

*  "God's  Terrible  Advice  to  the  City  by  Plague  and  Famine."  By  the 
Eev.  T.  Vincent. 


298  NOBLE  CONDUCT  OF  CHARLES  II. 

rate  the  miserable  condition  of  the  houseless  and  starving 
inhabitants ;  giving  orders  for  pulling  down  houses  in  all 
directions,  to  prevent  the  further  progress  of  the  flames ; 
and  himself  passing  the  four  fearful  days,  sometimes  on 
horseback  and  sometimes  on  foot,  in  visiting  the  points 
where  the  fire  raged  most  fiercely,  encouraging  the  work- 
men by  his  presence,  and  exhorting  them  to  increased  ex- 
ertions by  promises,  example,  or  threats.  According  to  a 
contemporary  MS.  quoted  by  Echard — "  All  own  the  imme- 
diate hand  of  God,  and  bless  the  goodness  of  the  King,  who 
made  the  round  of  the  fire  usually  twice  every  day,  and  for 
many  hours  together,  on  horseback  and  on  foot,  gave  orders 
for  pursuing  the  work  by  threatenings,  desires,  example,  and 
good  store  of  money,  which  he  himself  distributed  to  the 
workers,  out  of  a  hundred  pound  bag,  which  he  carried  with 
him  for  that  purpose."  It  would  be  unfair  to  the  memory 
of  the  Duke  of  York,  afterwards  James  the  Second,  not  to 
notice  that  he  followed  the  example  set  him  by  his  royal 
brother,  with  similar  alacrity,  good  feeling,  and  zeal. 

Many  accounts  have  been  handed  down  to  us  of  the  great 
fire  of  London,  but  none  are  so  truthful,  or  so  graphically 
written  as  those  of  Evelyn  and  Pepys,  who  were  not  only 
eye-witnesses  of  what  they  describe,  but  were  well-qualified 
to  appreciate  the  greatness  of  the  calamity,  and  the  awful 
sublimity  of  the  scene.  The  extracts  from  their  several 
Diaries  are  somewhat  lengthy,  but  are  too  interesting  to  be 
much  curtailed.  Pepys,  who  was  at  this  period  residing  in 
Seething  Lane,  Crutched  Friars,  thus  writes  under  date 
the  2nd  of  September : — 

"  Lord's  Day.  Some  of  our  maids  sitting  up  late  last 
night  to  get  things  ready  against  our  feast  to-day,  Jane 
called  us  up  about  three  in  the  morning,  to  tell  us  of  a 
great  fire  they  saw  in  the  City.  So  I  rose,  and  slipped  on 


PEPYS'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  FIRE.  299 

my  night-gown,  and  went  to  her  window,  and  thought  it  to 
be  on  the  back  side  of  Mark  Lane  at  the  farthest,  but  being  un- 
used to  such  fires  as  followed,  I  thought  it  far  enough  off,  and 
so  went  to  bed  again,  and  to  sleep.  About  seven,  rose  again  to 
dress  myself,  and  there  looked  out  at  the  window,  and  saw 
the  fire  not  so  much  as  it  was,  and  further  off.  By-and-by, 
Jane  comes  and  tells  me  that  she  hears  that  above  three 
hundred  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 ;  Sir  J.  Robinson's  little  son  going  up  with  me ; 
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 ;  which,  among  other  people,  did 
trouble  me  for  poor  little  Michell  and  our  Sarah  on  the  bridge. 
So  down,  with  my  heart  full  of  trouble,  to  the  Lieutenant  of 
the  Tower,  who  tells  me  that  it  begun  this  morning  in  the 
King's  baker's  house  in  Pudding  Lane,  and  that  it  hath 
burned  down  St.  Magnus's  Church,  and  most  part  of  Fish 
Street  already.  So  I  down  to  the  water-side,  and  there  got 
a  boat,  and  through  bridge,  and  there  saw  a  lamentable  fire. 
Poor  Michell's  house,  as  far  as  the  Old  Swan,  already  burned 
that  way,  and  the  fire  running  further,  that  in  a  very  little 
time  it  got  as  far  as  the  Steel- Yard,  while  I  was  there. 
Everybody  endeavouring  to  remove  their  goods,  and  fling- 
ing into  the  river,  or  bringing  them  into  lighters  that  lay 
off ;  poor  people  staying  in  their  houses  as  long  as  till  the 
very  fire  touched  them,  and  then  running  into  boats,  or 
clambering  from  one  pair  of  stairs  by  the  water-side  to 
-another.  And  among  other  things,  the  poor  pigeons,  I  per- 
ceive, were  loth  to  leave  their  houses,  but  hovered  about  the 
windows  and  balconies,  till  they  burned  their  wings,  and 


300  PEPYS'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  FIRE. 

fell  down.  Having  stayed,  and  in  an  hour's  time  seen  the 
fire  rage  every  way,  and  nobody,  to  my  sight,  endeavouring 
to  quench  it,  but  to  remove  their  goods,  and  leave  all  to  the 
fire,  and  having  seen  it  get  as  far  as  the  Steel- Yard,  and  the 
wind  mighty  high,  and  driving  it  into  the  City  :  and  every- 
thing after  so  long  a  drought  proving  combustible,  even  the 
very  stones  of  churches,  and  among  other  things,  the  poor 

steeple*  by  which  pretty  Mrs. lives,  and  whereof  my 

old  schoolfellow  Elborough  is  parson,  taking  fire  in  the  very 
top,  and  there  burned  till  it  fell  down  :  I  to  Whitehall  in  my 
boat,  and  there  up  to  the  King's  closet  in  the  Chapel,  where 
people  come  about  me,  and  I  did  give  them  an  account  dis- 
mayed them  all,  and  word  was  carried  in  to  the  King.  So- 
I  was  called  for,  and  did  tell  the  King  and  Duke  of  York 
what  I  saw,  and  that  unless  his  Majesty  did  command 
houses  to  be  pulled  down,  nothing  could  stop  the  fire. 

"  They  seemed  much  troubled ;  and  the  King  commanded 
me  to  go  to  my  Lord  Mayor  from  him,  and  command  him  to 
spare  no  houses,  but  to  pull  down  before  the  fire  every  way. 
The  Duke  of  York  bid  me  tell  him,  that  if  he  would  have 
any  more  soldiers,  he  shall ;  and  so  did  my  Lord  Arlington 
afterwards,  as  a  great  secret.  Here,  meeting  with  Captain 
Cocke,  I  in  his  coach,  which  he  lent  me,  to  Paul's,  and  there 
walked  along  Watling  Street,  as  well  as  I  could — every 
creature  coming  away  loaded  with  goods  to  save,  and  here 
and  there  sick  people  carried  away  in  beds.  Extraordi- 
nary good  goods  carried  in  carts  and  on  backs.  At  last  met 
my  Lord  Mayor  in  Cannon  Street,  like  a  man  spent,  with  a 
handkercher  about  his  neck.  To  the  King's  message  he 
cried,  like  a  fainting  woman,  '  Lord,  what  can  I  do  ?  I  am 
spent :  people  will  not  obey  me.  I  have  been  pulling  down 
houses ;  but  the  fire  overtakes  us  faster  than  we  can  do  it.. 
*  St.  Laurence  Poultney. 


PUPYS'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  FIRE.  301 

That  he  needed  no  more  soldiers ;  and  that,  for  himself,  he 
must  go  and  refresh  himself,  having  been  up  all  night.  So 
he  left  me,  and  I  him,  and  walked  home  ;  seeing  people  all 
almost  distracted,  and  no  manner  of  means  used  to  quench 
the  fire.  The  houses,  too,  so  very  thick  thereabouts,  and 
full  of  matter  for  burning,  as  pitch  and  tar,  in  Thames 
Street ;  and  warehouses  of  oil,  and  wines,  and  brandy,  and 
other  things.  And  to  see  the  churches  all  filling  with  goods 
by  people,  who  themselves  should  have  been  quietly  there 
at  this  time.  By  this  time  it  was  about  twelve  o'clock  ;  and 
so  home. 

"  Soon  as  dined,  I  and  Moone  away,  and  walked  through 
the  City  ;  the  streets  full  of  nothing  but  people,  and  horses, 
and  carts  loaded  with  goods,  ready  to  run  over  one  another, 
and  removing  goods  from  one  burned  house  to  another. 
They  now  removing  out  cf  Cannon  Street  (which  received 
goods  in  the  morning)  into  Lombard  Street,  and  further : 
and  among  others  I  now  saw  my  little  goldsmith  Stokes 
receiving  some  friend's  goods,  whose  house  itself  was  burned 
the  day  after. 

"  We  parted  at  Paul's ;  he  home,  and  I  to  Paul's  Wharf, 
where  I  had  appointed  a  boat  to  attend  me,  and  took  in 
Mr.  Carcasse  and  his  brother,  whom  I  met  in  the  street,  and 
carried  them  below  and  above  bridge  too.  And  again  to 
see  the  fire,  which  was  now  got  further,  both  below  and 
above,  and  no  likelihood  of  stopping  it.  Met  with  the 
King  and  Duke  of  York  in  their  barge,  and  with  them  to 
Queenhitbe,  and  there  called  Sir  Richard  Browne  to  them. 
Their  order  was  only  to  pull  down  houses  apace ;  and  so 
below  bridge  at  the  water-side ;  but  little  was  or  could  be 
done,  the  fire  coming  upon  them  so  fast.  Good  hopes  there 
were  of  stopping  it  at  the  Three  Cranes  above,  and  at 
Botolph's  Wharf  below  bridge,  if  care  were  used ;  but  the 


302  PEPYS'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  FIRE. 

wind  carries  it  into  the  City,  so  as  we  know  not  by  the 
water-side  what  it  do  there.      River  full  of  lighters  and 
boats  taking  in   goods ;  and  good  goods  swimming  in  the 
water ;  and  only  I  observed  that  hardly  one  lighter  or  boat 
in  three  that  had  the  goods  of  a  house  in,  but  there  was  a 
pair  of  virginals  in  it.     Having  seen  as  much  as  I  could 
now,  I  away  to  Whitehall  by  appointment,  and  there  walked 
to  St.  James's  Park,  and  there  met  my  wife  and  Creed,  and 
Wood  and  his  wife,  and  walked  to  my  boat,  and  there  upon 
the  water  again,  and  to  the  fire  up  and  down,  it  still  in- 
creasing, and  the  wind  great.     So  near  the  fire  as  we  could 
for  smoke ;  and  all  over  the  Thames,  with  one's  faces  in  the 
wind,  you  were  almost  burned  with  a  shower  of  fire-drops. 
This  is  very  true  ;  so  as  houses  were  burned  by  these  drops 
and  flakes  of  fire,  three  or  four,  nay,  five  or  six  houses,  one 
from  another.     When  we  could  endure  no  more  upon  the 
water,  we  went  to  a  little  ale-house  on  the  Bankside,  over 
against  the  Three  Cranes,  and  there  staid  till  it  was  dark 
almost,  and  saw  the  fire  grow ;  and  as  it  grew  darker,  it 
appeared  more  and  more,  and  in  corners  and  upon  steeples, 
and  between  churches  and  houses,  as  far  as  we  could  see  up 
the  hill  of  the  City,  in  a  most  horrid   malicious  bloody 
flame,  not  like  the  fine  flame  of  an  ordinary  fire.     We  staid 
till,  it  being  darkish,  we  saw  the  fire  as  only  one  entire 
arch  of  fire  from  this  to  the  other  side  the  bridge,  and  in 
a  bow  up  the  hill  for  an  arch  of  above  a  mile  long :  it 
made  me  weep   to  see  it.     The  churches,  houses,  and  all 
on  fire,  and  flaming  at  once  ;  and  a  horrid  noise  the  flames 
made,  and  the  cracking  of  houses  at  their  ruin.     So  home 
with  a  sad  heart,  and  there  find  everybody  discoursing  and 
lamenting  the  fire ;  and  poor  Tom  Hater  come  with  some 
few  of  his  goods  saved  out  of  his  house,  which  was  burned 
upon  Fish  Street  Hill.     I  invited  him  to  lie  at  my  house, 


EVELYN'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  FIRE.  303 

and  did  receive  his  goods,  but  was  deceived  in  his  lying 
there,  the  news  coming  every  moment  of  the  growth  of  the 
fire;  so  as  we  were  forced  to  begin  to  pack  up  our  own 
goods,  and  prepare  for  their  removal ;  and  did  by  moonshine 
(it  being  brave  dry  and  moonshine  and  warm  weather) 
carry  much  of  my  goods  into  the  garden ;  and  Mr.  Hater 
and  I  did  remove  my  money  and  iron  chests  into  my  cellar, 
as  thinking  that  the  safest  place  ;  and  got  my  bags  of  gold 
into  my  office,  ready  to  carry  away,  and  my  chief  papers  of 
accounts  also  there,  and  my  tallies  in  a  box  by  themselves. 

"  September  3rd. — About  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  my 
Lady  Batten  sent  me  a  cart  to  carry  away  all  my  money, 
and  plate,  and  best  things,  to  Sir  W.  Rider's,  at  Bethnal 
Green ;  which  I  did,  riding  myself  in  my  night-gown  in 
the  cart ;  and,  Lord !  to  see  how  the  streets  and  the  high- 
ways are  crowded  with  people  running  and  riding,  and 
getting  of  carts  at  any  rate  to  fetch  away  things." 

On  the  same  day  the  pious  Evelyn  inserts  in  his  "  Diary :" 
"  September  3rd. — I  had  public  prayers  at  home.  The  fire 
continuing,  after  dinner  I  took  coach  with  my  wife  and  son, 
and  went  to  the  Bankside  in  Southwark,  where  we  beheld 
the  dismal  spectacle,  the  whole  City  in  dreadful  flames  near 
the  water-side.  All  the  houses  from  the  bridge,  all  Thames 
Street,  and  upwards  towards  Cheapside,  down  to  the  Three 
Cranes,  were  now  consumed:  and  so  returned  exceeding 
astonished  what  would  become  of  the  rest,  the  fire  having 
continued  all  this  night  (if  I  may  call  that  night  which  was  as 
light  as  day  for  ten  miles  round  about,  after  a  dreadful  man- 
ner), when  conspiring  with  a  fierce  eastern  wind  in  a  very 
dry  season.  I  went  on  foot  to  the  same  place,  and  saw  the 
whole  south  part  of  the  City  burning,  from  Cheapside  to  the 
Thames,  and  all  along  Cornhill  (for  it  likewise  kindled  back 
against  the  wind,  as  well  as  forward),  Tower  Street,  Fen- 


304  EVELYN'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  FIRE. 

church.  Street,  Gracechurch  Street,  and  so  along  to  Baynard's 
Castle,  and  was  now  taking  hold  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  to 
which  the  scaffolds  contributed  exceedingly.  The  confla- 
gration was  so  universal,  and  the  people  so  astonished,  th^at 
from  the  beginning,  I  know  not  by  what  despondency  or 
fate,  they  hardly  stirred  to  quench  it,  so  that  there  was 
nothing  heard  or  seen  but  crying  out  and  lamentation,  run- 
ning about  like  distracted  creatures,  without  at  all  attempt- 
ing to  save  even  their  goods ;  such  a  strange  consternation 
there  was  upon  them ;  so  as  it  burned,  both  in  breadth  and 
length,  the  churches,  public  halls,  Exchange,  hospitals,  monu- 
ments, and  ornaments ;  leaping  after  a  prodigious  manner 
from  house  to  house,  and  street  to  street,  at  great  distances 
one  from  the  other ;  for  the  heat,  with  a  long  set  of  fair  and 
warm  weather,  had  even  ignited  the  air,  and  prepared  the 
materials  to  conceive  the  fire,  which  devoured,  after  an  in- 
credible manner,  houses,  furniture,  and  everything.  Here 
we  saw  the  Thames  covered  with  goods  floating ;  all  the 
barges  and  boats  laden  with  what  some  had  time  and  courage 
to  save;  the  carts,  &c.,  carrying  them  out  to  the  fields, 
which  for  many  miles  were  strewed  with  moveables  of  all 
sorts,  and  tents  erecting  to  shelter  both  people  and  what 
goods  they  could  get  away.  Oh,  the  miserable  and  calami- 
tous spectacle  !  such  as  haply  the  world  had  not  seen  since 
the  foundation  of  it,  nor  to  be  outdone  till  the  universal 
conflagration  thereof.  All  the  sky  was  of  a  fiery  aspect, 
like  the  top  of  a  burning  oven,  and  the  light  seen  above 
forty  miles  round  about  for  many  nights.  God  grant  mine 
eyes  may  never  behold  the  like,  which  now  saw  above  ten 
thousand  houses  all  in  one  flame.  The  noise,  and  cracking 
and  thunder  of  the  impetuous  flames;  the  shrieking  of 
women  and  children ;  the  hurrying  of  people ;  the  fall  of 
towers,  houses,  and  churches,  was  like  an  hideous  storm ; 


PEPYS'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  FIRE.  305 

and  the  air  all  about  so  hot  and  inflamed,  that  at  last  one 
was  not  able  to  approach  it,  so  that  they  were  forced  to 
stand  still,  and  let  the  flames  burn  on,  which  they  did  for 
near  two  miles  in  length,  and  one  in  breadth.  The  clouds 
also  of  smoke  were  dismal,  and  reached,  upon  computation, 
near  fifty-six  miles  in  length.  Thus  I  left  it  this  afternoon 
burning,  a  resemblance  of  Sodom,  or  the  last  day.  It 
forcibly  called  to  my  mind  that  passage,  non  enim  hie 
kabemus  stabilem  civitatem ;  the  ruins  resembling  the  pic- 
ture of  Troy.  London  was,  but  is  no  more !  Thus  I 
returned  home ! 

"  September  4th. — The  burning  still  rages,  and  it  was  now 
gotten  as  far  as  the  Inner  Temple  ;  all  Fleet  Street,  the  Old 
Bailey,  Ludgate  Hill,  Warwick  Lane,  Newgate,  Paul's  Chain, 
Watling  Street,  now  flaming,  and  most  of  it  reduced  to 
ashes.  The  stones  of  St.  Paul's  flew  like  granados,  the 
melting  lead  running  down  the  streets  in  a  stream,  and 
the  very  pavements  glowing  with  fiery  redness,  so  as 
no  horse  nor  man  was  able  to  tread  on  them ;  and  the 
demolition  had  stopped  all  the  passages,  so  that  no  help 
could  be  applied.  The  eastern  wind  still  more  impetuously 
driving  the  flames  forward.  Nothing  but  the  almighty 
power  of  God  was  able  to  stop  them,  for  vain  was  the  help 
of  man." 

Let  us  return  to  Pepys,  and  his  no  less  interesting  "  Diary." 
On  the  4th  he  continues  : — "  This  night  Mrs.  Turner  and  her 
husband  supped  with  my  wife  and  me  at  night  in  the  office, 
upon  a  shoulder  of  mutton  from  the  cook's,  without  any  napkin 
or  anything,  in  a  sad  manner,  but  were  merry ;  only  now  and 
then,  walking  into  the  garden,  saw  how  horribly  the  sky 
looks,  all  on  a  fire  in  the  night,  was  enough  to  put  us  out 
of  our  wits :  and,  indeed,  it  was  extremely  dreadful,  for  it 
looks  just  as  if  it  was  at  us,  and  the  whole  heaven  on  fire. 

VOL.  ii.  20 


306  PEPYS'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  FIRE. 

I,  after  supper,  walked  in  the  dark  down  to  Tower  Street, 
and  there  saw  it  all  on  fire,  at  the  Trinity  House  on  that 
side,  and  the  Dolphin  Tavern  on  this  side,  which  was  very 
near  us,  and  the  fire  [raging]  with  extraordinary  vehemence. 
Now  begins  the  practice  of  blowing  up  of  houses  in  Tower 
Street,  those  next  the  Tower,  which  at  first  did  frighten 
people  more  than  anything ;  but  it  stopped  the  fire  where  it 
was  done ;  it  bringing  down  the  houses  to  the  ground,  in  the 
same  places  they  stood,  and  then  it  was  easy  to  quench  what 
little  fire  was  in  it. 

"  September  5th. — I  lay  down  in  the  office  again  upon  W. 
Hewer's  quilt,  being  mighty  weary,  and  sore  in  my  feet  with 
going  till  I  was  hardly  able  to  stand.  About  two  in  the  morning 
my  wife  calls  me  up,  and  tells  me  of  new  cries  of  fire,  it  being 
come  to  Barking  Church,  which  is  the  bottom  of  our  lane."* 
I  up,  and  finding  it  so,  resolved  presently  to  take  her  away, 
and  did,  and  took  my  gold,  which  was  about  £2350.  W. 
Hewer  and  Jane  down  by  Proundy's  boat  to  Woolwich ;  but, 
Lord  !  what  a  sad  sight  it  was  by  moonlight  to  see  the  whole 
city  almost  on  fire,  that  you  might  see  it  plain  at  Woolwich 
as  if  you  were  by  it.  There,  when  I  came,  I  found  the  gates 
shut,  but  no  guard  kept  at  all,  which  troubled  me,  because 
of  discourses  now  begun  that  there  is  a  plot  in  it,  and  that 
the  French  had  done  it.  I  got  the  gates  open,  and  to  Mr. 
Shelden's,  where  I  locked  up  my  gold,  and  charged  my  wife 
and  W.  Hewer  never  to  leave  the  room  without  one  of  them 
in  it,  night  nor  day.  So  back  again;  and,  whereas  I  ex- 
pected to  have  seen  our  house  on  fire,  it  being  now  about 
seven  o'clock,  but  it  was  not.  But  to  the  fire,  and  there 
find  greater  hopes  than  I  expected ;  for  my  confidence  of 
finding  our  office  on  fire  was  such,  that  I  durst  not  ask  any 
body  how  it  was  with  us,  till  I  come  and  saw  it  was  not 

*  Seethiijg  Lane. 


PEPY&S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  FIRE.  307 

burned.  But,  going  to  the  fire,  I  find,  by  the  blowing  up 
of  houses,  and  the  great  help  given  by  the  workmen  out  of 
the  King's  Yard,  sent  up  by  Sir  W.  Penn  [from  Deptford], 
there  is  a  good  stop  given  to  it,  as  well  at  Mark  Lane  end  as 
ours,  it  having  only  burned  the  dial  of  Barking  Church,  and 
part  of  the  porch,  and  was  there  quenched.  I  up  to  the  top 
of  Barking  steeple  and  there  saw  the  saddest  sight  of  deso- 
lation that  I  ever  saw ;  every  where  great  fires,  oil-cellars 
and  brimstone,  and  other  things  burning.  I  became  afraid 
to  stay  there  long,  and  therefore  down  again  as  fast  as  I 
could,  the  fire  being  spread  as  far  as  I  could  see  it ;  and  to 
Sir  W.  Penn's,  and  there  ate  a  piece  of  cold  meat,  having 
eaten  nothing  since  Sunday  but  the  remains  of  Sunday's 
dinner.*  Here  I  met  with  Mr.  Young  and  Mr.  Whistler  ; 
and  having  removed  all  my  things,  and  received  good  hopes 
that  the  fire  at  our  end  is  stopped,  they  and  I  walked  into 
the  town,  and  found  Fenchurch  Street,  Gracechurch  Street, 
and  Lombard  Street  all  in  dust.  The  Exchange  a  sad  sight ; 
nothing  standing  there,  of  all  the  statues  or  pillars,  but  Sir 
Thomas  Gresham's  picture  in  the  corner.  Into  Moorfields 
(our  feet  ready  to  burn,  walking  through  the  town  among 
the  hot  coals),  and  find  that  full  of  people,  and  poor  wretches 
carrying  their  goods  there,  and  everybody  keeping  his  goods 
together  by  themselves ;  and  a  great  blessing  it  is  to  them, 
that  it  is  fair  weather  for  them  to  keep  abroad  night  and 
day.  Drank  there,  and  paid  two  pence  for  a  plain  penny 
loaf.  Thence  homeward,  having  passed  through  Cheapside 
and  Newgate  market,  all  burned."-}- 

On  the  following  day,  the  6th  of  September,  the  fire  had 
lost  much  of  its  fury,  and  by  the  7th  it  was  almost  entirely 

*  Pepys  seems  to  have  forgotten  the   "shoulder  of  mutton  from  the 
cook's  "  which  he  partook  of  the  day  before, 
t  Pepys'a  Memoirs,  v.  iii.,  p.  16—32.     Ed.  1828. 

20—2 


308       EVELYN'S  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  RUINS. 

subdued.  The  spectacle,  however,  of  ruin  and  desolation 
which  everywhere  presented  itself,  increased  by  the  solemn 
silence  which  had  succeeded  to  the  crashing  of  timbers,  the 
falling  of  roofs,  and  the  shrieks  of  women  and  children,  was 
even  more  distressing  than  the  sight  of  the  conflagration  itself. 
"  The  poor  inhabitants,"  writes  Evelyn,  "were  dispersed  about 
St.  George's  Fields  and  Moorfields,  as  far  as  Highgate,  and 
several  miles  in  circle ;  some  under  tents,  some  under  misera- 
ble huts  and  hovels  ;  many  without  a  rag  or  any  necessary 
utensils,  bed  or  board,  who  from  delicateness,  riches,  and 
easy  accommodations,  in  stately  and  well-furnished  houses, 
were  now  reduced  to  extremest  misery  and  poverty.  In  this 
calamitous  condition,  I  returned  with  a  sad  heart  to  my 
house,  blessing  and  adoring  the  distinguishing  mercy  of  God 
to  me  and  mine,  who,  in  the  midst  all  this  ruin,  was  like  Lot, 
in  my  little  Zoar,  safe  and  sound." 

How  mournful  and  impressive  is  Evelyn's  subsequent 
account  of  his  ramble  through  the  streets  of  the  ruined 
city! 

"September  7th. — I  went  this  morning  on  foot  from 
Whitehall  as  far  as  London  Bridge,  through  the  late  Fleet 
Street,  Ludgate  Hill,  by  St.  Paul's,  Cheapside,  Exchange, 
Bishopsgate,  Aldersgate,  and  out  to  Moorfields ;  thence 
through  Cornhill,  with  extraordinary  difficulty  clamber- 
ing over  heaps  of  yet  smoking  rubbish,  and  frequently  mis- 
taking where  I  was.  The  ground  under  my  feet  was  so  hot, 
that  it  even  burnt  the  soles  of  my  shoes.  In  the  meantime, 
his  Majesty  got  to  the  Tower  by  water,  to  demolish  the 
houses  about  the  Graff,  which  being  built  entirely  about  it, 
had  they  taken  fire,  and  attacked  the  White  Tower,  where 
the  magazine  of  powder  lay,  would  undoubtedly  not  only 
have  beaten  down  and  destroyed  all  the  bridge,  but  sunk 
and  torn  the  vessels  in  the  river,  and  rendered  the  demoli- 


EVELYN'S  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  RUINS.       309 

tion   beyond  all  expression,  for   several  miles   about  the 
country. 

"  On  my  return,  I  was  infinitely  concerned  to  find  that 
goodly  church,  St.  Paul's,  now  a  sad  ruin,  and  that  beautiful 
portico  (for  structure  comparable  to  any  in  Europe,  as  not 
long  before  repaired  by  the  late  King)  now  rent  in  pieces ; 
flakes  of  vast  stone  split  asunder,  and  nothing  remaining  entire 
but  the  inscription  in  the  architrave,  showing  by  whom  it  was 
built,  which  had  not  one  letter  of  it  defaced.  It  was  astonish- 
ing to  see  what  immense  stones  the  heat  had  in  a  manner 
calcined ;  so  that  all  the  ornaments,  columns,  friezes,  capitals, 
and  projectures  of  massive  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  con- 
sumed, burning  for  a  week  following !  It  is  also  observable 
that  the  lead  over  the  altar  at  the  east  end  was  untouched, 
and  among  the  diverse  monuments,  the  body  of  one  Bishop 
remained  entire.  Thus  lay  in  ashes  that  most  venerable 
church,  one  of  the  most  ancient  pieces  of  early  piety  in  the 
Christian  world,  besides  near  one  hundred  more.  The 
lead,  iron  work,  bells,  plate,  &c.,  melted;  the  exquisitely 
wrought  Mercers'  Chapel,  the  sumptuous  Exchange;  the 
august  fabric  of  Christ's  Church ;  all  the  rest  of  the  Com- 
panies' Halls ;  splendid  buildings,  arches,  entries,  all  in  dust ; 
the  fountains  dried  up  and  ruined,  whilst  the  very  waters 
remained  boiling ;  the  voragos  of  subterranean  cellars,  wells, 
and  dungeons,  formerly  warehouses,  still  burning  in  stench, 
and  dark  clouds  of  smoke ;  so  that  in  five  or  six  miles  tra- 
versing about,  I  did  not  see  one  load  of  timber  unconsumed, 
nor  many  stones  but  what  were  calcined  white  as  snow. 


310       EVELYN'S  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  RUINS. 

"  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,  to  which  was  added  the 
stench  that  came  from  some  poor  creatures'  bodies,  beds,  and 
other  combustible  goods.  Sir  Thomas  Gresham's  statue, 
though  fallen  from  its  niche  in  the  Royal  Exchange,  remained 
entire,  when  all  those  of  the  Kings  since  the  Conquest  were 
broken  to  pieces ;  also  the  Standard  in  Cornhill,  and  Queen 
Elizabeth's  effigies,  with  some  arms  on  Ludgate,  continued 
with  but  little  detriment ;  whilst  the  vast  iron  chains  of  the 
city  streets,  hinges,  bars,  and  gates  of  prisons,  were  many  of 
them  melted  and  reduced  to  cinders  by  the  vehement  heat. 
Nor  was  I  yet  able  to  pass  through  any  of  the  narrower 
streets,  but  kept  the  widest.  The  ground  and  air,  smoke 
and  fiery  vapour,  continued  so  intense,  that  my  hair  was 
almost  singed,  and  my  feet  insufferably  surbated.  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.  I  then  went  towards  Isling- 
ton and  Highgate,  where  one  might  have  seen  two  hundred 
thousand  people  of  all  ranks  and  degrees,  dispersed  and  lying 
along  by  their  heaps  of  what  they  could  save  from  the  fire, 
deploring  their  loss  ;  and  though  ready  to  perish  for  hunger 
and  destitution,  yet  not  asking  one  penny  for  relief,  which 
to  me  appeared  a  stranger  sight  than  any  I  had  yet  beheld. 
His  Majesty  and  Council,  indeed,  took  all  imaginable  care 
for  their  relief,  by  proclamation  for  the  country  to  come  in, 
and  refresh  them  with  provisions."* 

The  manner  in  which  the  fire  of  London  originated  is 
still  a  mystery.  The  person  most  likely  to  throw  a  light  on 
the  subject  was  Farryner,  the  baker,  in  whose  house  in 
*  "  Evelyn's  Diary,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  263  to  272.  Ed.  1827. 


I 


THE  MONUMENT.  311 

Pudding  Lane  it  broke  out.  When  examined,  however, 
before  a  Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons,  all  he  could 
.state  was,  that,  according  to  his  usual  custom,  he  had  visited 
every  part  of  his  house  at  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  at  which 
hour  everything  appeared  to  be  in  perfect  security.  Only 
in  one  of  the  grates,  he  affirmed,  was  there  any  fire,  which 
he  raked  out,  and  as  the  room  was  paved  with  bricks,  he 
considered  it  utterly  impossible  that  the  conflagration  could 
have  been  caused  by  the  smouldering  embers. 

Prompted  by  rage  and  bigotry,  general  opinion  attributed 
the  fire  to  the  Eoman  Catholics,  though  for  what  purpose 
they  should  have  been  the  incendiaries  does  not  appear. 
The  strictest  possible  scrutiny  was  subsequently  carried  on 
by  a  Parliamentary  Committee,  without  in  any  degree 
implicating  them ;  and  yet,  in  deference  to  popular  preju- 
dice, the  Government,  after  a  lapse  of  fifteen  years,  most 
unfairly  permitted  the  following  inscription  to  be  engraved 
on  the  Monument : — 

"This  pillar  was  set  up  in  perpetual  remembrance  of  that  most  dreadful 
burning  of  this  Protestant  City,  begun  and  carried  on  by  the  treachery 
and  malice  of  the  Popish  faction,  in  the  beginning  of  September,  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord  1666,  in  order  to  the  carrying  on  their  horrid  plot  for 
extirpating  the  Protestant  religion,  and  Old  English  liberty,  and  the  in- 
troducing Popery  and  Slavery." 

It  is  needless  to  remark,  that  it  is  to  the  calumny  con- 
tained in  this  inscription  that  Pope,  himself  a  Roman  Catho- 
lic, alludes  in  the  well-known  couplet  which  we  have  already 
•quoted. 

At  the  accession  of  James  the  Second,  the  obnoxious 
inscription  was  by  his  orders  effaced.  King  William,  how- 
•ever,  permitted  it  to  be  restored  after  the  Revolution,  but 
it  now  no  longer  disgraces  the  noble  column,  having  been 
•erased  by  an  Act  of  Common  Council,  on  the  26th  January, 
1831. 


312  THE  MONUMENT. ' 

The  total  damage  which  the  City  sustained  by  the  fire- 
was  computed  at  no  less  than  ten  millions  seven  hundred 
and  sixteen  thousand  pounds.  Fearful,  however,  as  was 
the  calamity,  it  proved  in  the  end  a  blessing.  For  centuries 
past,  the  plague  had  continued  lurking  in  the  obscure  and 
filthy  allies  of  the  City  ;  periodically  bursting  forth  from  its 
lurking-places,  and  committing  the  most  frightful  ravages ; 
and  accordingly,  to  obviate  this  evil,  the  new  streets  were 
made  wider,  and  the  inhabitants  admitted  to  the  blessings 
of  light  and  air.  The  consequence  has  been  the  total  dis- 
appearance of  the  plague  in  London  since  the  great  fire. 

A  few  words  remain  to  be  said  respecting  the  Monument 
on  Fish  Street  Hill.  This  fine  column,  which  is  of  the  Doric 
order,  measures  two  hundred  and  two  feet  in  height,  being 
twenty-four  feet  higher  than  Trajan's  Pillar  at  Rome.  It 
was  commenced  by  Sir  Christopher  Wren  in  1671,  and  com- 
pleted in  1677,  at  an  expense  of  £13,700.  The  staircase  in 
the  interior  consists  of  three  hundred  and  forty-five  steps. 
On  the  west  side  of  the  pedestal  is  a  bas-relief, — the  work 
of  Caius  Gabriel  Gibber,  the  father  of  the  poet, — in  which 
the  principal  figure  is  a  female,  representing  the  city  of 
London,  lamenting  over  a  heap  of  ruins.  Behind  her  is  Time, 
gradually  raising  her  up ;  and  at  her  side  is  the  figure  of 
Providence,  who  gently  touches  her  with  one  hand,  while 
with  a  winged  sceptre  in  the  other  she  directs  her  attention 
to  two  goddesses  in  the  clouds — one  holding  a  cornucopia, 
the  emblem  of  plenty ;  the  other  holding  a  branch  of  the 
palm-tree,  the  emblem  of  peace.  At  her  feet  is  a  beehive, 
denoting  that  industry  is  the  source  of  wealth,  and  that  the 
greatest  misfortunes  may  be  overcome  by  perseverance  and 
application.  In  another  part  is  a  view  of  the  City  in  flames ; 
the  inhabitants  being  represented  in  great  consternation, 
lifting  up  their  hands  to  heaven  and  invoking  its  mercy.. 


THE  MONUMENT.  313 


On  a  raised  platform,  opposite  to  the  burning  city,  stands 
the  figure  of  Charles  the  Second,  in  a  Roman  habit,  with  a 
truncheon  in  his  hand,  invoking  Liberty,  Architecture,  and 
Science  to  descend  to  the  aid  of  the  city.  Behind  the  King 
stands  his  brother  the  Duke  of  York,  holding  a  garland  in 
one  hand  to  crown  the  rising  city,  and  a  sword  in  the  other 
for  her  defence.  The  three  other  sides  of  the  base  of  the 
column  contain  Latin  inscriptions ;  the  one  on  the  north, 
detailing  the  extent  and  particulars  of  the  conflagration; 
that  on  the  south,  explaining  the  measures  taken  under  the 
auspices  of  Charles  the  Second  for  rebuilding  and  re-beauti- 
fying the  City.  On  the  east  side  are  the  names  of  the  Lord 
Mayors  who  were  in  office  during  the  period  the  column  was 
in  course  of  erection.* 

The  compliments  paid  to  Charles,  both  in  the  bas-relief, 
and  in  the  inscriptions,  are  not  greater  than  he  deserved. 
His  personal  exertions  during  the  progress  of  the  conflagra- 
tion, and  the  interest  which  he  subsequently  took  in  the 
sufferings  of  his  subjects,  were  certainly  highly  to  his  credit. 
Moreover,  had  the  plans  been  adopted  for  rebuilding  the  City 
which  emanated  from  the  genius  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren, 
and  which  were  warmly  supported  by  his  royal  master,  Lon- 
don would  unquestionably  have  been  the  most  stately  city 
in  the  world.  Unfortunately,  however,  space  was  of  too 
much  value — property  too  much  divided — and  people  in  too 
great  a  hurry  to  repair  past  losses  by  future  profits — to 
admit  of  the  realization  of  these  magnificent  projects. 

*  "Six  persons  have  thrown  themselves  off  the  monument  : — William 
Green,  a  weaver,  June  25th,  1750 ;  Thomas  Cradock,  a  baker,  July  7th, 
1788 ;  Lyon  Levi,  a  Jew,  Jan.  18th,  1810 ;  a  girl  named  Moyes,  the 
daughter  of  a  baker  in  Heminge's  Row,  Sept.  llth,  1839  ;  a  boy  named 
Hawes,  October  18th,  1839  ;  and  a  girl  of  the  age  of  seventeen,  in  August, 
1842.  This  kind  of  death  becoming  popular,  it  was  deemed  advisible  to- 
encage  the  Monument  as  we  now  see  it." — Cunningham's  "  London,"  Art* 
The  Monument. 


314  THE  MONUMENT. 

It  had  been  the  intention  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren  to 
surmount  the  Monument  with  a  statue  of  Charles  the  Second, 
and  when  he  laid  his  original  design  before  the  King,  the 
column  was  thus  ornamented.  Charles,  however,  declined 
the  honour.  "  Not,"  says  Wren,  "  that  his  Majesty  disliked 
a  statue ;  but  he  was  pleased  to  think  a  large  ball  of  metal, 
gilt,  would  be  more  agreeable."  Accordingly  the  present 
gikied  vase  of  flames  was  substituted  for  the  proposed  statue. 
The  Latin  inscriptions  on  the  Monument  were  written  by 
Dr.  Gale,  Dean  of  York. 


PISH  STREET  HILL,  EASTCHEAP,  GRACE- 
CHURCH  STREET,  ST.  OLAVE'S,  HART 
STREET. 

"KING'S  HEAD  TAVERN." — ST.  MAGNUS  THE  MARTYR. — PUDDING   LANE. — 

BOAR'S  HEAD   TAVERN. — SIR   JOHN   FALSTAFF. — LOMBARD  MERCHANTS. 

EARL  OF  SUFFOLK. — FENCHURCH  STREET. — QUEEN  ELIZABETH. — ST.  OLAVE'S 

CHURCH. — SIR  JOHN  MENNIS. — MONUMENT  TO  PEPYS's  WIFE. DR.  MILLS. 

— WHITTINGTON'S  RESIDENCE. — LADY  FANSHAWE. 

IN  addition  to  the  connection  of  Fish  Street  Hill  with  the 
great  fire,  many  interesting  associations  are  attached  to 
the  spot.    Here  it  is  that  Shakspeare  makes  Jack  Cade 
exclaim  at  the  head  of  his  rabble  followers, 

— "  Up  Fish  Street !  down  Saint  Magnus'  corner  !  kill  and  knock  down  ! 
throw  them  into  Thames  !  What  noise  is  this  I  hear  ?  Dare  any  be  so  bold 
to  sound  retreat  or  parley  when  I  command  them  kill  !" — King  Henry  VI., 
part  2,  act  iv.,  sc.  8. 

In  the  fourteenth  century — when  the  Kings  of  England  held 
their  court  in  the  Tower,  and  when  the  site  of  the  present 
populous  thoroughfares  constituted  the  court  district  of  the 
metropolis — we  find  Edward  the  Black  Prince  residing  on 
Fish  Street  Hill.  The  house,  or  inn,  of  the  Black  Prince, 
which  was  of  stone  and  of  considerable  size,  stood  at  the  end 
of  Crooked  Lane,  facing  Monument  Yard.  In  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth  it  had  been  converted  into  an  inn,  or  hostelry,  and 
was  known  by  the  sign  of  the  Black  Bell. 

King's  Head  Court,  within  a  few  paces  of  the  Monument, 


316  ST.  MAGNUS  THE  MARTYR. 

derives  its  name  from  the  "  King's  Head"  tavern,  rendered 
classical  by  Ben  Jonson,  and  famous  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth 
for  its  excellent  wine  and  noisy  revels. 

Let  us  not  omit  to  mention,  that,  in  the  days  of  his  ex- 
treme distress,  Oliver  Goldsmith  filled  the  situation  of  jour- 
neyman to  a  chemist  of  the  name  of  Jacob,  at  the  corner  of 
Monument  Yard,  Fish  Street  Hill.  In  this  situation  he  was 
discovered  by  his  old  college  friend  Dr.  Sleigh,  who  relieved 
his  immediate  necessities  and  enabled  him  to  establish  him- 
self in  medical  practice  in  Bankside,  Southwark. 

Close  to  Fish  Street  Hill  is  the  church  of  St.  Magnus  the 
Martyr,  standing  nearly  on  the  site  of  the  old  parish  church, 
which  was  destroyed  by  the  great  fire  in  1666.  As  early  as 
the  year  1302,  we  find  a  chantry  founded  here  by  Hugh 
Pourt,  Sheriff  of  London,  and  Margaret,  his  wife.  The  first 
rector  mentioned  by  Newcourt,  is  Robert  de  S.  Albano,  who 
resigned  the  living  in  1323.  The  most  illustrious  name 
connected  with  the  church  is  that  of  Miles  Coverdale,  under 
whose  direction  the  first  complete  English  version  of  the 
Bible  was  published  in  October,  1535.  The  body  of  the 
present  handsome  and  well-proportioned  church  was  built  by 
Sir  Christopher  Wren  in  1676 ;  the  steeple  having  been 
added  in  1705.  It  contains  no  monuments  of  any  particular 
interest  or  beauty.  In  the  vestry  room,  however,  is  an  inte- 
resting painting  of  old  London  Bridge,  and  also  a  curious 
drawing  of  the  presentation  of  a  pair  of  colours  to  the  mili- 
tary association  of  Bridge  Ward.  The  altar-piece,  richly 
carved  and  decorated,  is  considered  one  of  the  handsomest 
in  London,  and  the  lantern  and  cupola  have  considerable 
merit. 

Between  Fish  Street  Hill  and  Gracechurch  Street,  di- 
verging to  the  right,  is  Eastcheap,  famous  in  the  olden  time 
for  those  scenes  of  jollity,  when  "  the  cooks  cried  hot  ribs  of 


BOARS  HEAD  TAVERN.  317 

beef  roasted,  pies  well  baked,  and  other  victuals,  with  clat- 
tering of  pewter,  pots,  harp,  pipe,  and  sawtrie."  Close  by  is 
Pudding  Lane,*  descending  to  the  Thames,  anciently  called 
Rother,  or  Red-rose  Lane,  from  one  of  the  houses  having  the 
sign  of  a  red-rose,  but  which,  doubtless,  received  its  more 
modern  denomination  from  its  vicinity  to  the  scenes  of  gor- 
mandizing and  revelry  in  Eastcheap.  It  was  the  conviction 
of  the  Puritan  portion  of  the  inhabitants  of  London,  that 
the  fire  of  London  was  a  direct  manifestation  of  the  anger  of 
Heaven,  inflicted  as  a  punishment  for  the  sins  and  gluttony 
of  the  age ;  this  conviction  being  not  a  little  strengthened  by 
the  singular  coincidence  of  the  fire  having  commenced  *in 
Pudding  Lane  and  ended  in  Pye  Lane,  near  Smithfield.  On 
a  house  at  the  latter  place,  at  the  corner  of  Giltspur  Street 
and  what  is  now  Cock  Lane,  is  still  to  be  seen  the  figure 
of  a  naked  boy  with  his  arms  folded  upon  his  chest,  which 
formerly  had  an  inscription  attributing  the  fire  of  London  to 
the  sin  of  gluttony. 

There  is  perhaps  no  spot  in  London  which  recalls  so 
vividly  to  our  imaginations  the  romance  of  the  olden  time  as 
Eastcheap.  Who  is  there  who  has  ever  strolled  along  this 
classic  ground  without  having  pictured  to  himself  the  Boar's 
Head  Tavern,  such  as  when  it  resounded  to  the  jokes  and 
merriment  of  Sir  John  Falstaff  and  his  boon  companions  ? 
Who  is  there  who  has  not  peopled  it  in  imagination  with 
Bardolph,  and  his  "malmsey  hose ;"  with  "ancient  Pistol," 
and  kind-hearted  Dame  Quickly;  with  the  jokes  of  frolic 
Prince  Hal ;  and,  lastly,  with  the  dying  scene  of  the  jovial 
old  Knight,  where  "  he  made  a  finer  end,  and  went  away, 

*  See  ante,  p.  227.  It  is  "commonly  called  Pudding  Lane,  because  the 
butchers  of  Eastcheap  have  their  scalding-house  for  hogs  there,  and  their 
puddings,  with  other  filth  of  beasts,  are  voided  down  that  way  to  their 
dung-boats  on  the  Thames."— Stow's  "Survey  of  London,"  p.  79. 


318  GRACECHURCH  STREET. 

an  it  had  been  any  christom  child ;  fumbling  with  the  sheets,, 
and  playing  with  flowers,  and  smiling  upon  his  fingers'  ends, 
and  babbling  of  green  fields"  ? — "The  character  of  old  Fal- 
staff," says  Goldsmith,  in  one  of  his  charming  Essays,  "  even 
with  all  his  faults,  gives  me  more  consolation  than  the  most 
studied  efforts  of  wisdom  :  I  here  behold  an  agreeable  old 
fellow,  forgetting  age,  and  showing  me  the  way  to  be  young 
at  sixty-five.  Sure  I  am  well  able  to  be  as  merry,  though 
not  so  comical  as  he.  Is  it  not  in  my  power  to  have,  though 
not  so  much  wit,  at  least  as  much  vivacity  ?  Age,  care, 
wisdom,  reflection,  begone  !  I  give  you  to  the  winds.  Let's 
have  t'other  bottle;  here's  to  the  memory  of  Shakspeare, 
Falstaff,  and  all  the  merry  men  of  Eastcheap !  Such  were 
the  reflections  that  naturally  arose  while  I  sat  at  the  Boar's 
Head  Tavern,  still  kept  at  Eastcheap.  Here,  by  a  pleasant 
fire,  in  the  very  room  where  old  Sir  John  Falstaff  cracked 
his  jokes,  in  the  very  chair  which  was  sometimes  honoured 
by  Prince  Henry,  and  sometimes  polluted  by  his  immoral 
merry  companions,  I  sat  and  ruminated  on  the  follies  of 
youth  ;  wished  to  be  young  again,  but  was  resolved  to  make 
the  best  of  life  while  it  lasted." 

The  "  Boar's  Head"  of  Shakspeare,  which  stood  in  Great 
Eastcheap,  perished  in  the  fire  of  London.  A  tavern  bear- 
ing the  same  name  was  erected  on  its  site,  having  in  front  of 
it  a  boar's  head  cut  in  stone,  with  the  date  1688.  It  was 
taken  down  in  1831,  to  make  room  for  the  approaches  to 
New  London  Bridge.  The  object  which  most  nearly  marks 
the  site  of  the  -old  tavern,  is  the  statue  of  King  William  the 
Fourth. 

Gracechurch  Street,  originally  styled  Grasse  Street,  or 
Grassechurch  Street,  derives  its  name  from  a  herb-market 
which  was  anciently  held  on  its  site.  It  was  corrupted  in 
the  first  instance  into  Gracious  Street,  and  thence  into- 


LOMBARD  STREET.  319 

Gracechurch  Street,     In  a  poem  styled  the  "  Nine  Worthies 
of  London,"  printed  in  black  letter  in  1592,  we  find: — 

"  In  Gracious  Street,  there  was  I  bound  to  serve, 
My  master's  name  hight  Stoclie  in  his  time." 

In  White  Hart  Court,  the  entrance  to  which  is  all  that 
is  now  left,  died,  in  1690,  the  celebrated  George  Fox,  the 
father  of  the  Quakers ;  and  at  his  lodgings  in  Nag's  Head 
Court,  now  Lombard  Street,  leading  out  of  Gracechurch 
Street  into  Lombard  Street,  died,  in  1737,  Matthew  Green, 
the  poet,  the  well-known  author  of  "  The  Spleen." 

To  the  west  of  Gracechurch  Street  is  Lombard  Street. 
This  street  derives  its  name  from  the  opulent  money-lenders, 
or  usurers,  who  came  out  of  Lombardy  in  1274,  and  who 
carried  on  their  money  transactions  in  this  street  from  the 
reign  of  Edward  the  First  to  that  of  Elizabeth.*  Here,  in 
the  direction  of  Birchin  Lane,  stood  the  mansion  of  that 
powerful  race,  the  De  la  Poles,  Earls  of  Pembroke  and  Dukes 
of  Suffolk.  The  founder  of  this  family  was  Sir  William  de 
la  Pole,  a  merchant  at  Kingston-upon-Hull,  who,  in  the 
tenth  year  of  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Third,  contracted  to 
supply  the  army  in  Scotland  with  wine,  salt,  and  other  pro- 
visions. Three  years  afterwards,  when  Edward  was  in 
urgent  need  of  money  for  the  support  of  his  army,  we  find 
the  wealthy  merchant  advancing  him  the  sum  of  a  thousand 
pounds  in  gold,  for  which  important  service  the  King  con- 
stituted him  Second  Baron  of  the  Exchequer,  advanced  him 
to  the  rank  of  Knight  Banneret,  and  conferred  on  him  a 
grant  out  of  the  customs  of  Hull,  for  the  better  support  of 
his  new  dignity.  He  was  ancestor  of  William  de  la  Pole, 
Earl  of  Suffolk,  the  prime  minister  and  declared  favourite  of 
Margaret  of  Anjou,  now  principally  remembered  from  the 

*  In  the  "  Archseologia,"  vol.  xxviii.,  p.  207,  will  be  found  a  curious  and 
interesting  account  of  the  Lombard  merchants,  and  of  the  extraordinary 
influence  which  they  exercised  in  this  country. 


320  LOMBARD  STREET. 

discomfiture  he  received  from  Joan  d'Arc  beneath  the  walls 
of  Orleans,  and  whose  melancholy  fate  has  been  before  re- 
ferred to.  His  honours  were  inherited  by  his  eldest  son, 
John  the  fifth  Earl,  who  was  created  Duke  of  Suffolk  in 
1463,  and  who  married  the  Lady  Elizabeth  Plantagenet, 
sister  of  King  Edward  the  Fourth.  The  last  of  this  gallant 
race,  in  the  male  line,  was  Richard  de  la  Pole,  the  third 
duke,  who,  after  performing  acts  of  heroic  valour,  was  killed 
at  the  battle  of  Pavia,  in  1524. 

In  Lombard  Street,  at  the  sign  of  the  "  Grasshopper," 
lived  the  princely  merchant  Sir  Thomas  Gresham,  the 
founder  of  Gresham  College  and  of  the  Royal  Exchange. 
The  site  (No.  68)  is  now  occupied  by  a  banking  establish- 
ment. In  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second  we  find  the 
"  Grasshopper  "  the  sign  of  another  wealthy  goldsmith,  Sir 
Charles  Duncombe,  the  founder  of  the  Feversham  family, 
and  the  purchaser  of  Helmsley,  in  Yorkshire,  the  princely 
seat  of  George  Villiers,  second  Duke  of  Buckingham. 

"  Helmsley,  once  proud  Buckingham's  delight, 
Yields  to  a  scrivener  and  a  city  knight." 

Here  also  resided  Sir  Robert  Viner,  Lord  Mayor  of  London 
in  1675,  and  apparently  an  especial  favourite  with  Charles 
the  Second.  The  "merry  monarch"  once  did  him  the 
honour  to  dine  with  him  during  his  mayoralty,  when, 
having  remained  as  long  as  was  agreeable  to  himself,  he 
rose  to  depart.  The  citizen,  however,  having  indulged 
rather  freely  in  his  own  wines,  caught  hold  of  the  King, 
and  declared  with  an  oath  that  he  should  remain  and  drink 
another  bottle.  Charles  looked  good-humouredly  at  him 
over  his  shoulder,  and  repeating,  with  a  smile,  a  line  of  an 
old  song : — 

"  He  that's  drunk  is  as  great  as  a  King," 

sat  down  again,  and  remained  as  long  as  his  host  wished. 


ST.  MART  WOOLNOTH.  321 

It  was  in  Lombard  Street,  on  the  22nd  of  May,  1688, 
that  Pope,  the  poet,  first  saw  the  light.  Spence  was  in- 
formed by  Nathaniel  Hooke,  the  historian,  that  it  was  "  at 
the  house  which  is  now  Mr.  Morgan's,  an  apothecary,"  but  it  is 
impossible  now  to  ascertain  its  site.  Thomas  Guy,  the 
founder  of  Guy's  Hospital,  was  a  bookseller  in  Lombard 
Street. 

The  church  of  St.  Mary  Woolnoth,  Lombard  Street,  has 
been  thought  to  stand  on  the  site  of  a  temple  dedicated  to 
the  goddess  of  Concord ;  and  the  remains  of  Roman  an- 
tiquity, which  have  from  time  to  time  been  discovered  near 
the  spot,  have  added  some  slight  weight  to  the  supposition. 
The  origin  of  the  name  escaped  the  researches  of  Stow. 
The  old  edifice  having  been  destroyed  by  the  fire  of  Lon- 
don, the  present  church  was  rebuilt  in  1716,  by  Nicholas 
Hawksmoor,  the  pupil  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren.  The  origi- 
nality and  boldness  of  its  exterior,  the  richness  and  elegance 
of  its  internal  decorations,  the  graceful  arrangement  of  the 
columns,  and  the  fine  workmanship  of  the  pulpit  and 
sounding-board,  have  been  deservedly  admired.  There  is 
a  tablet  in  the  church  to  the  memory  of  the  Rev.  John 
Newton,  rector  of  Olney,  in  Buckinghamshire,  the  friend  of 
Cowper,  and  his  associate  in  the  composition  of  the  Olney 
Hymns.  The  inscription  on  his  monument,  written  by  him- 
self, describes  him  as  having  been  "  once  an  infidel  and  liber- 
tine, a  servant  of  slaves  in  Africa,  but  by  the  rich  mercy  of 
our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  preserved,  restored,  par- 
doned, and  appointed  to  preach  the  Faith  he  had  long 
laboured  to  destroy."  Newton  had  been  brought  up  to  a 
sea-faring  life,  and  in  early  youth  had  been  engaged  in 
the  slave  trade.  He  died  on  the  21st  of  December,  1807, 
at  the  age  of  eighty-two,  having  been  for  twenty-eight  years 
rector  of  the  united  parishes  of  Si  Mary  Woolnoth  and  St. 

VOL.  ii.  21 


322  CHURCH  OF  ST.  EDMUND  THE  KING. 

Mary  Woolchurch.     His  remains  lie  in  a  vault  beneath  the 
church. 

On  the  north  side  of  Lombard  Street  stands  the  church  of 
St.  Edmund  the  King,  dedicated  to  the  Saxon  King  Edmund, 
who  was  murdered  by  the  Danes  in  870.  The  history  of 
its  foundation,  like  that  of  St.  Mary  Woolnoth,  is  lost  in 
antiquity.  The  present  church,  remarkable  for  having  its 
altar  to  the  north,  was  erected  by  Wren  in  1690.  Notwith- 
standing its  extreme  simplicity  of  design,  the  fine  propor- 
tions of  the  interior,  as  well  as  the  picturesque  effect  pro- 
duced by  its  richly  carved  pulpit,  galleries  and  pews,  all  of 
dark  oak,  have  found  it  many  admirers.  The  altar-piece 
presents  some  bold  carvings,  and  on  each  side  of  the  com- 
munion table  are  portraits  of  Moses  and  Aaron,  executed  by 
Etty  in  1833. 

Facing  the  east  end  of  Lombard  Street  is  Fenchurch  Street, 
so  called,  it  is  said,  from  the  fenny  nature  of  the  ground  on 
which  it  was  originally  built ;  but  according  to  others,  from 
the  fcenum,  or  hay,  which  was  sold  here.*  Here  stood  Den- 
mark House,  the  residence,  in  the  reign  of  Philip  and  Mary,  of 
the  first  Russian  ambassador  who  was  sent  to  this  country. 
He  arrived  here  in  1557,  shortly  after  the  formation  of  the 
Russian  Company ;  and  as  it  was  to  the  interest  of  the  mer- 
chants of  London  to  impress  the  mind  of  the  barbarian  envoy 
with  a  favourable  notion  of  the  wealth  and  resources  of 
England,  they  determined  to  receive  him  with  great  state  and 
splendour.  Accordingly,  on  his  approach  to  London,  they  met 
him  at  Tottenham,  habited  in  velvet  and  ornamented  with 
chains  of  gold.  Lord  Montacute,  at  the  head  of  the  Queen's 
pensioners,  received  him  at  Islington,  and,  on  reaching  Smith- 
field,  he  was  met  by  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Aldermen,  habited 
in  their  scarlet  robes,  who  accompanied  him  on  horseback 
*  Stow,  p.  76. 


ST.  MARGARET  PATTENS.  323 

to  his  residence,  then  "  Master  Dimmock's,"  in  Fenchurch 
Street. 

The  church  of  St.  Margaret  Pattens,  Fenchurch  Street, 
derives  its  name  partly  from  having  been  dedicated  to  St. 
Margaret,  a  virgin  saint  of  Antioch,  and  partly,  according 
to  Stow,  "  because  of  old  time  pattens  were  usually  made 
and  sold "  in  the  neighbourhood.  The  old  church  having 
been  destroyed  by  the  great  fire,  the  present  edifice  was  re- 
built by  Wren  in  1687.  The  principal  object  of  attraction 
in  St.  Margaret's  is  the  altar-piece,  which  displays  a  fine 
painting,  representing  the  angels  ministering  to  our  Saviour 
in  the  garden.  The  artist  is  said  to  be  Carlo  Maratti,  pupil 
of  Andrea  Sacchi.  About  the  altar,  too,  are  some  carvings 
of  flowers,  of  excellent  workmanship.  The  indefatigable 
antiquary,  Thomas  Birch,  lies  buried  in  the  chancel  of  this 
church.  "  My  desire  is,"  he  says  in  his  will,  "  that  my  body 
may  be  interred  in  the  chancel  of  the  church  of  St.  Marga- 
ret Pattens,  of  which  I  have  been  now  rector  near  nine- 
teen years."  He  died  in  1765. 

In  Fenchurch  Street  stood  Northumberland  House,  the 
residence,  in  the  fifteenth  century,  of  the  Percies,  Earls  of 
Northumberland.  In  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Seventh  its 
fine  gardens  were  converted  into  bowling-alleys, "  common  to 
all  comers  for  their  money,  there  to  bowl  and  hazard,"*  and 
the  other  parts  of  the  estate  into  dicing-houses.  North- 
umberland Alley,  on  the  south  side  of  Fenchurch  Street, 
points  out  nearly  the  site  of  Northumberland  House. 

Pepys  writes,  on  the  10th  of  June,  1665,  "  To  my  great 
trouble,  hear  that  the  plague  is  come  into  the  City  (though 
it  hath  these  three  or  four  weeks  since  its  beginning  been 
wholly  out  of  the  City ;  but  where  should  it  begin  but  in 
my  good  friend  and  neighbour's,  Dr.  Burnett,  in  Fenchurch 
*  Stow,  p.  56. 

.21—2 


324  MARK  LANE. 


Street ;  which,  in  both  points,  troubles  me  mightily."  And 
again  he  writes  on  the  llth:  "  I  saw  poor  Dr.  Burnett's 
door  shut ;  but  he  hath,  I  hear,  gained  great  good  will 
among  his  neighbours,  for  he  discovered  it  himself  first, 
and  caused  himself  to  be  shut  up  of  his  own  accord,  which 
was  very  handsome." 

Eunning  from  Fenchurch  Street  into  Leadenhall  Street  is 
Billiter  Street,  corrupted  from  Belzetter  Street,  the  name 
probably  of  the  builder,  or  of  some  former  owner  of  the 
property. 

On  the  south  side  of  Fenchurch  Street  is  Mincing  Lane, 
so  called,  apparently,  from  the  ground  on  which  it  stands 
having  been  the  property  of  the  Minchuns,  or  Nuns  of  St. 
Helen's,  in  Bishopsgate  Street.  Running  parallel  with  it 
is  Mark  Lane,  anciently  styled  Mart  Lane,  from  a  mart  or 
fair  having  been  held  on  the  spot.  On  the  west  side  of  this 
street,  near  Fenchurch  Street,  is  the  ancient  church  of  All- 
hallows,  or  All-Saints  Staining.  It  had  the  good  fortune  to 
escape  the  ravages  of  the  great  fire  of  1666,  but,  shortly 
afterwards,  a  large  portion  of  it  having  fallen  into  decay,  it 
was  restored  at  a  considerable  expense  in  1675. 

According  to  Stow,  the  church  of  Allhallows  Staining 
derives  its  adjunctive  name  from  the  Saxon  word  stane,  or 
stone,  which  was  given  to  distinguish  it  from  the  other 
churches  in  London  dedicated  to  All-Saints,  which  were  of 
wood.  Supposing  this  derivation  to  be  the  correct  one,  the 
original  edifice  must  have  been  of  great  antiquity.  The 
earliest  notice,  however,  which  we  discover  of  there  having 
been  a  place  of  worship  on  the  spot,  is  in  1329,  when  one 
Edward  Camel  was  the  curate.  Previously  to  the  committal 
to  the  Tower  of  the  Scottish  patriot  Sir  William  Wallace, 
he  was  confined  in  a  house  in  the  parish  of  Allhallows 
Staining. 


KING'S  HEAD  TAVERN,  325 

A  tradition  exists,  that  when  the  Princess  Elizabeth  was 
released  from  the  Tower  by  her  sister,  Queen  Mary,  she 
obtained  permission,  when  on  her  way  to  Woodstock,  to 
attend  divine  service  in  the  church  of  Allhallows  Staining. 
Having  concluded  her  devotions,  she  adjourned,  it  is  said,  to 
the  "  King's  Head  Tavern,"  in  Fenchurch  Street,  where  she 
partook  of  a  substantial  meal,  consisting  of  pork  and  pease. 
This  royal  visit,  we  are  told,  was  afterwards  commemorated 
by  certain  influential  persons  in  the  parish,  whose  descend- 
ants, till  within  the  last  forty  years,  continued  to  celebrate 
the  anniversary  of  the  accession  of  the  virgin-queen  by  a 
dinner  'at  the  "  King's  Head."  In  the  coffee-room  are  still 
preserved  a  metal  dish  and  cover  which  are  said  to  have 
been  used  by  Elizabeth  on  the  occasion  of  her  visit,  as  also 
an  inscription  detailing  the  circumstances,  and  an  engraved 
portrait  of  her  by  Holbein.  According  to  another  account, 
the  princess,  on  quitting  the  church,  presented  the  clerk 
with  a  handsome  gratuity,  the  consequence  of  which  was 
that  he  annually  regaled  his  friends  with  a  dinner ;  a  festival 
which  was  afterwards  held  once  a  year  by  successive  inha- 
bitants of  the  parish. 

It  may  be  mentioned  that  in  this  small  parish  no  fewer 
than  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  individuals  perished  by  the 
great  plague  in  1665  ;  a  frightful  mortality  when  we  con- 
sider that  even  at  the  present  time  the  population  of  the 
parish  scarcely  exceeds  six  hundred  persons.  Among  other 
curious  entries  in  the  ancient  parish  books,  is  the  payment 
of  a  sum  of  money  for  ringing  a  joy-peal  to  celebrate  the 
safe  return  of  James  the  Second  to  London,  after  he  had 
been  foiled  in  his  attempt  to  fly  the  kingdom  on  the 
approach  of  the  Prince  of  Orange.  As  a  striking  evidence 
of  the  fickleness  of  popular  favour,  may  be  mentioned  a 
second  entry,  dated  only  two  days  afterwards,  for  the  pay- 


326  ST.  OLAVE'S  CHURCH. 

merit  of  a  similar  sum  to  the  ringers  for  celebrating  the  safe 
arrival  of  the  invader  in  London.  The  signatures  of  two 
remarkable  men  appear  on  the  parish  books  of  Allhallows 
Staining.  The  one  is  that  of  Sir  Cloudesley  Shovel,  in  con- 
nexion with  his  marriage ;  the  other,  that  of  Ireton,  who,  as 
a  justice  of  the  peace,  appears  to  have  married  certain  per- 
sons under  the  new  marriage  act  of  the  Puritans,  which 
transformed  the  ceremony  from  a  religious  into  a  civil  con- 
tract. 

Close  by,  in  Hart  Street,  at  the  west  end  of  Crutched 
Friars,  is  the  small  but  interesting  church  of  St.  Olave,  dedi- 
cated to  St.  Olave,  or  Olaf,  a  Norwegian  saint  of  the  eleventh 
century.  Of  the  date  of  its  foundation  we  have  unfor- 
tunately no  record.  Certain  only  it  is  that  St.  Olave's 
existed  as  a  parish  at  the  commencement  of  the  fourteenth, 
and  that  there  was  a  parish  church  here  at  the  beginning 
of  the  fifteenth,  century.  It  was  repaired  at  a  considerable 
cost  in  1633,  and  again  in  1823. 

In  addition  to  its  graceful  architecture,  and  the  remains 
of  antique  decoration  on  the  roof  of  its  aisles,  St.  Olave's 
contains  some  interesting  monuments  and  brasses.  Among 
others  may  be  mentioned  a  brass  plate,  at  the  east  end  of  the 
north  aisle,  to  the  memory  of  Thomas  Morley,  Clerk  of  the 
Queen's  Household  at  Deptford,  who  died  in  1516 — the 
sculptured  figure  in  armour  of  Sir  John  Radcliffe,  who  died 
in  1568 — a  full-sized  figure  in  armour,  kneeling  under  a 
canopy,  inscribed  to  Peter  Capponius,  and  bearing  the  date 
1582;  and  a  brass  plate,  at  the  east  end  of  the  south  aisle, 
to  the  memory  of  John  Orgene  and  Ellen,  his  wife,  dated  in 
1584.  Besides  these  there  are  the  finely-sculptured  effigies, 
lying  under  richly  painted  alcoves,  of  two  brothers,  Paul 
and  Andrew  Bayning,  who  severally  died  in  1610  and  1616 
— a  much-admired  monument  of  Dr.  William  Turner,  author 


ADMIRAL  SIR  JOHN  MENNES.  327 

of  the  English  Herbal,  who  died  in  1614,  and  a  sculptured 
marble  figure  of  Sir  Andrew  Biccard,  citizen  and  merchant 
of  London,  who  died  in  1672. 

Not  the  least  remarkable  person  who  lies  buried  in  the 
church  of  St.  Olave's,  Hart  Street,  is  the  poetic  Admiral  Sir 
John  Mennes.  In  the  reign  of  Charles  the  First  he  was 
made  Comptroller  of  the  Navy  Office,  and  received  the 
honour  of  knighthood.  About  this  time  he  had  the  com- 
mand of  a  ship  of  war,  but  was  deprived  of  it  by  the  Repub- 
lican party.  At  the  Restoration  he  was  made  Governor  of 
Dover  Castle,  Comptroller  of  the  Navy,  and  an  Admiral. 
Some  of  his  poetical  pieces  are  to  be  found  in  the  "  Musarum 
Delicise,"  but  as  a  poet  he  is  now  perhaps  best  remembered 
by  his  amusing  ballad  on  the  discomfiture  of  a  brother-poet, 
Sir  John  Suckling,  in  an  encounter  with  the  Scots  on  the 
English  border  in  1639  : — 

"  Sir  John  got  on  a  bonny  brown  beast, 

To  Scotland  for  to  ride-a  ; 
A  brave  buff  coat  upon  his  back, 

A  short  sword  by  his  side-a  : 
Alas  !  young  man,  we  Sucklings  can 

Pull  down  the  Scottish  pride-a. 

"Both  wife  and  maid,  and  widow  prayed, 

To  the  Scots  he  would  be  kind-a  ; 
He  stormed  the  more,  and  deeply  swore, 

They  should  no  favour  find-a  ; 
But  if  you  had  been  at  Berwick  and  seen, 

He  was  in  another  mind-a." 

In  the  churchyard  of  St.  Olave's  lie  the  remains  of  many 
-of  the  unfortunate  victims  of  the  great  plague ;  their  names 
being  distinguished  in  the  parish-register  by  the  significant 
letter  "  P  "  -being  affixed  to  each.  According  to  a  tradition 
current  in  the  neighbourhood,  the  pestilence  first  made  its 
appearance  in  this  quarter,  in  the  Drapers'  Almshouses  in 
•Cooper's  Row,  founded  by  Sir  John  Milborn  in  1535  ;  a  tra- 


328  P EFTS' S  WIFE. 


dition  so  far  borne  out  by  existing  evidence  that  the  first 
entry  in  [the  register  of  burials  of  a  death  by  the  plague,  is 
that,  under  date  24th  July,  1665,  of  Mary,  daughter  of 
William  Ramsay,  one  of  the  "  Drapers'  Almsmen." 

Not  the  least  interesting  object  in  St.  Olave's  Church  is  a 
small  monument  of  white  marble,  surmounted  with  the  bust 
of  a  female  of  evidently  considerable  beauty,  enriched  with 
cherubims,  skeletons'  heads,  palm-branches,  and  other  orna- 
ments. This  monument  is  to  the  memory  of  Elizabeth,  the 
fair  wife  of  the  gossiping,  bustling,  good-humoured  Secretary 
of  the  Admiralty,  Samuel  Pepys,  who  erected  it  in  testimony 
of  his  affection  and  his  grief.  To  many  persons,  indeed,  the 
principal  charm  of  St.  Olave's  Church  consists  in  its  frequent 
connection  with  the  personal  history  of  that  most  entertain- 
ing of  autobiographers.  Pepys's  residence  was  close  by  in 
Seething  Lane,  and  St.  Olave's  was  his  parish  church.  So 
little,  indeed,  has  the  old  building  been  altered  by  time, 
and  so  graphic  and  minute  are  the  notices  of  it  which  occur 
in  Pepys's  "  Diary,"  that  we  almost  imagine  we  see  before  us 
the  familiar  figure  of  the  smartly  attired  Secretary  standing 
in  one  of  the  old  oak  pews ;  his  fair  wife  reading  out  of  the 
same  prayer-book  with  him  ;  her  long  glossy  tresses  falling 
over  her  shoulders ;  her  eye  occasionally  casting  a  furtive 
glance  at  the  voluptuous-looking  satin  petticoat  of  which  she 
had  borrowed  the  idea  either  from  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  or 
Lady  Castlemaine ;  and  her  pretty  face  displaying  as  many 
of  the  fashionable  black  patches  of  the  period  as  her  good- 
natured  husband  would  allow  her  to  disfigure  herself  with. 
The  Latin  inscription  on  her  monument  informs  us  that  she 
was  descended  in  the  female  line  from  the  noble  family  of 
the  Cliffords ;  that  she  received  her  education  at  the  Court 
of  France ;  that  her  virtues  were  only  equalled  by  the  beauty 
of  her  person  and  the  accomplishments  of  her  mind ;  that 


ST.  OLA  VE'S  CHURCH.  329 

she  was  married  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  and  that  she  died 
at  the  age  of  twenty-nine. 

Some  of  the  notices  in  Pepys's  "Diary,"  of  his  attend- 
ances at  Divine  Service  in  St.  Olave's  Church,  are  not  a  little 
curious,  more  especially  where  they  refer  to  the  revolution 
in  manners  and  customs  occasioned  by  the  recent  discom- 
fiture of  the  Puritans,  and  by  the  revival  of  the  religious 
ceremonials  of  the  Church  of  England  : — 

"  4th  Novr.,  1660. — Lord's  Day.  In  the  morn  to  our  own 
church,  where  Mr.  Mills  did  begin  to  nibble  at  the  Common 
Prayer,  by  saying — '  Glory  be  to  the  Father,'  &c.,  after  he 
had  read  the  two  psalms ;  but  the  people  had  been  so  little 
used  to  it,  that  they  could  not  tell  what  to  answer.  My 
wife  seemed  very  pretty  to-day,  it  being  the  first  time  I  had 
given  her  leave  to  wear  a  black  patch." 

"  30th  January,  1660-1.— Fast  Day  *  The  first  time  that 
this  day  hath  yet  been  observed,  and  Mr.  Mills  made  a  most 
excellent  sermon,  upon  'Lord  forgive  us  our  former  iniquities;' 
speaking  excellently  of  the  justice  of  God  in  punishing  men 
for  the  sins  of  their  ancestors.  To  my  Lady  Batten's,  where 
my  wife  and  she  are  lately  come  back  from  seeing  of  Crom- 
well, Ireton,  and  Bradshaw  hanged  and  buried  at  Tyburn." 

"26th  October,  1662.— Lord's  Day.  Put  on  my  new 
Scallop,  which  is  very  fine.  To  church,  and  there  saw,  the 
first  time,  Mr.  Mills  in  a  surplice ;  but  it  seemed  absurd  for 
him  to  pull  it  over  his  ears  in  the  reading-pew,  after  he  had 
done,  before  all  the  church,  to  go  up  to  the  pulpit." 

"  9th  August,  1663. — To  church,  and  heard  Mr.  Mills  preach 
upon  the  authority  of  the  ministers,  upon  these  words,  '  We 
are  therefore  ambassadors  of  Christ.'  Wherein,  among  other 
high  expressions,  he  said,  that  such  a  learned  man  used  to 
say,  that  if  a  minister  of  the  word  and  an  angel  should  meet 

*  The  anniversary  of  the  decapitation  of  Charles  the  First. 


330  WHITTINGTON'S  PALACE. 

him  together,  he  should  salute  the  minister  first ;  which  me- 
thought  was  a  little  too  high." 

"4th  February,  1665-6. — Lord's  Day;  and  my  wife  and 
I,  the  first  time,  together  at  the  church  since  the  plague,  and 
now  only  because  of  Mr.  Mills  his  coming  home  to  preach 
his  first  sermon ;  expecting  a  great  excuse  for  his  leaving 
the  parish  before  anybody  went,  and  now  staying  till  all  are 
come  home ;  but  he  made  biTt  a  very  poor  and  short  excuse, 
and  a  bad  sermon.  It  was  a  frost,  and  had  snowed  last  night, 
which  covered  the  graves  in  the  churchyard,  so  as  I  was  the 
less  afraid  for  going  through." 

Daniel  Mills,  D.D.,  to  whose  sermons  in  St.  Olave's  Church 
Pepys  so  often  listened,  and  which  he  so  frequently  criti- 
cises, was  thirty-two  years  rector  of  the  parish.  He  died  in 
October,  1689,  at  the  age  of  sixty- three,  and  was  buried  in 
the  church.  On  the  4th  of  June,  1703,  Pepys  was  himself 
interred  in  a  vault  in  the  middle  aisle  of  St.  Olave's  Church, 
by  the  side  of  his  wife  and  brother. 

In  Hart  Street,  four  doors  from  Mark  Lane,  stood,  till 
within  a  few  years,  an  ancient  mansion  styled  in  the  old 
leases  Whittingtoii's  palace,  and  said  to  have  been  the  resi- 
dence of  Richard  Whittington,  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  whose 
tale  is  familiar  to  us  from  our  childhood.  On  pulling  down 
the  old  mansion  to  make  room  for  some  contemplated  im- 
provements, the  following  curious  discovery  was  made.  On 
removing  the  basement  walls,  the  workmen  came  to  a  small 
brick  chamber,  the  only  opening  to  which  was  from  the  top. 
On  breaking  into  it,  it  was  found  to  contain  many  human 
bones,  mixed  with  hair,  and  so  disposed  of,  as  to  afford  much 
reason  to  believe  that  the  chamber  had  been  the  scene  of 
foul  play.  This  impression  was  still  further  strengthened 
by  the  discovery  of  a  dagger — about  twelve  inches  in  length, 
and  with  its  point  broken — which  was  found  lying  among 
the  bones. 


LAD Y  FANSHA  WE.  331 

In  Hart  Street  was  born  Lady  Fanshawe,  the  authoress 
of  the  delightful  personal  "  Memoirs  "  which  bear  her  name. 
"  I  was  born,"  she  writes,  "  in  St.  Olave's,  Hart  Street,  Lon- 
don, in  a  house  that  my  father  took  of  the  Lord  Dingwall, 
father  to  the  now  Duchess  of  Ormond,  in  the  year  1625,  on 
our  Lady  Day,  25th  of  March."  And  she  adds, — "  In  that 
house  I  lived  the  winter  times,  till  I  was  fifteen  years  old 
and  three  months,  with  my  very  honoured  and  most  dear 
mother."  Lady  Fanshawe  appears  to  have  been  an  intimate 
.acquaintance  of  the  Duchess  of  Ormond,  who,  on  one  occa- 
sion, told  her  she  loved  her  for  many  reasons,  "  and  one  was, 
that  we  were  both  born  in  one  chamber."* 

*  Lady  Fanshawe's  "  Memoirs,"  pp.  60  and  81. 


ALDGATE,  ST.  BOTOLPH'S  CHUECH,  LEAD- 
ENHALL  STEEET,  ST.  CATHEEINE  CEEE,  &c. 

DERIVATION  OF  THE  NAME  ALDGATE. — STOW  THE  ANTIQUARY. — HIS  LABOURS 
ILL-REQUITED. — CRUEL  EXECUTION  OF  THE  BAILIFF  OF  ROMFORD. — HIS 
SPEECH.— CHURCH  OF  ST.  BOTOLPH. — MONUMENTS  IN  THE  CHURCH. — 
DEFOE'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  BURIAL-PITS  IN  THE  CHURCHYARD  DURING  THE 
PLAGUE. — WHITECHAPEL. — DUKE'S  PLACE. — PRIORY  OF  THE  HOLY  TRINITY. 
— LEADENHALL  STREET. — CHURCH  OF  ST.  CATHERINE  CREE. — PERSONS 
BURIED  THERE. — CONSECRATION  OF  THE  CHURCH  BY  ARCHBISHOP  LAUD. — 
CHURCH  OF  ST.  ANDREW  UNDERSHAFT. — MONUMENTS. — ST.  MARY-AXE. — 
LIME  STREET. 

FENCHURCH  STREET  leads  us  into  Aldgate,  which 
derives  its  name  from  one  of  the  principal  gates  of 
the  city — styled  in  the  reign  of  King  Edgar,  Ealdgate, 
or  Oldgate — under  which  passed  one  of  the  Roman  roads 
leading  into  London.  In  1215,  during  the  wars  between 
King  John  and  his  barons,  it  was  through  this  gate  that  the 
latter  entered  London  in  triumph ;  when,  after  having  secured 
the  other  gates,  and  plundered  the  royalists  and  Jews,  they 
proceeded  to  lay  siege  to  the  Tower.  Here  too,  in  1471, 
during  the  wars  between  the  White  and  Red  Roses,  the  bas- 
tard Falconbridge  presented  himself  at  the  head  of  a  formid- 
able force,  consisting  of  freebooters  and  partizans  of  the  House 
of  Lancaster,  and  demanded  admittance  into  the  city.  After 
a  fierce  conflict  the  gate  was  forced  by  some  of  his  followers ; 
but  the  portcullis  having  been  let  down,  they  were  all  killed. 
The  portcullis  was  then  drawn  up,  and  the  citizens  sallying 
forth,  repulsed  their  assailants  with  great  slaughter. 


STOW,  THE  ANTIQUARY.  333 

Among  the  records  of  the  city  of  London  is  a  lease  grant- 
ing the  whole  of  the  dwelling  house  above  the  gate  of  Aid- 
gate  to  Geoffrey  Chaucer,  the  poet,  in  1374 

Close  to  the  pump  at  Aldgate,  at  the  junction  of  Lead- 
enhall  Street  and  Fenchurch  Street,  lived  the  indefatigable 
antiquary,  John  Stow,  whose  name  no  historian  of  London 
can  inscribe  without  feelings  of  reverence  and  gratitude.  He 
was  bred-  a  tailor,  but  gave  up  his  occupation,  and  with  it 
the  means  of  living  with  ease  and  comfort,  in  order  to  be 
able  to  prosecute  his  beloved  studies  of  history  and  antiqui- 
ties. The  manner  in  which  his  priceless  labours  were  rewarded 
by  his  ungrateful  countrymen,  is  well  known.  "  It  was  in  his 
eightieth  year,"  writes  Mr.  D'Israeli,  in  his  "  Calamities  of 
Authors,"  "  that  Stow  at  length  received  a  public  acknow- 
ledgment of  his  services,  which  will  appear  to  us  of  a  very 
extraordinary  nature.  He  was  so  reduced  in  his  circum- 
stances that  he  petitioned  James  the  First  for  a  licence  to 
collect  alms  for  himself !  '  as  a  recompense  for  his  labour  and 
travel  of  forty-Jive  years,  in  setting  forth  the  Chronicles  of 
England,  and  eight  years  taken  up  in  the  Survey  of  the 
Cities  of  London  and  Westminster,  towards  his  relief  now 
in  his  old  age  ;  having  left  his  former  means  of  living,  and 
only  employing  himself  for  the  service  and  good  of  his 
country.'  Letters-patent  under  the  Great  Seal  were  granted. 
After  no  penurious  commendation  of  Stow's  labours,  he  is 
permitted  '  to  gather  the  benevolence  of  well-disposed  people 
within  this  realm  of  England:  to  ask,  gather,  and  take  the 
alms  of  all  our  loving  subjects.'  These  letters-patent  were  to 
be  published  by  the  clergy  from  their  pulpit.  They  pro- 
duced so  little  that  they  were  renewed  for  another  twelve- 
month :  one  entire  parish  in  the  City  contributed  seven  shil- 
lings and  sixpence  !  Such,  then,  was  the  patronage  received 
by  Stow,  to  be  a  licensed  beggar  throughout  the  kingdom 


334  REMARKABLE  EXECUTION. 

for  one  twelvemonth !  Such  was  the  public  remuneration 
of  a  man  who  had  been  useful  to  his  nation,  but  not  to  him- 
self!"  Stow  died  on  the  5th  of  April,  1605,  at  the  age  of 
eighty,  and  was  buried  in  the  neighbouring  church  of  St. 
Andrew  Undershaft. 

The  old  historian  mentions  a  remarkable  execution  which 
he  witnessed  in  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Sixth  immediately 
opposite  to  his  own  house  in  Aldgate.  In  those  unsettled 
times  it  was  a  barbarous,  and  not  uncommon  practice,  to  put 
to  death  by  martial  law  those  who  propagated  rumours  on 
subjects  connected  with  affairs  of  state,  whether  those  ru- 
mours were  true  or  false.  On  the  present  occasion  the 
offender  was  the  Bailiff  of  Romford,  in  Essex.  "  He  (the 
Bailiff),"  writes  Stow,  "  was  early  in  the  morning  of  Mary 
Magdalen's  day,  then  kept  holiday,  brought  by  the  Sheriffs 
of  London  and  the  Knight-marshal,  to  the  well  within 
Aldgate,  there  to  be  executed  upon  a  gibbet,  set  up  that 
morning ;  where,  being  on  the  ladder,  he  had  words  to  this 
effect :  '  Good  people,  I  am  come  hither  to  die,  but  know  not 
for  what  offence,  except  for  words  by  me  spoken  yesternight 
to  Sir  Stephen,  curate  and  preacher  of  this  parish,  which 
were  these :  He  asked  me,  what  news  in  the  country  ?  I 
answered,  heavy  news.  Why  ?  quoth  he.  It  is  said,  quoth 
I,  that  many  men  be  up  in  Essex,  but,  thanks  be  to  God,  all 
is  in  good  quiet  about  us.  And  this  was  all,  as  God  be  my 
judge.'  Upon  these  words  of  the  prisoner,  Sir  Stephen,  to 
avoid  reproach  of  the  people,  left  the  City  and  was ''never 
heard  of  since  amongst  them  to  my  knowledge.  I  heard  the 
words  of  the  prisoner,  for  he  was  executed  upon  the  pave- 
ment of  my  door,  where  I  then  kept  house."  This  Sir 
Stephen  was  the  incendiary  curate  of  the  neighbouring 
church  of  St.  Catherine  Cree,  whose  fanatical  ravings  in  the 
pulpit  had  recently  led  to  the  populace  destroying  the  an- 


ST.  BOTOLPH'S  CHURCH.  335- 

i 

cient  and   celebrated  Maypole  opposite  the  church  of  St. 
Andrew  Undershaft. 

On  the  north  side  of  the  High-street,  Aldgate,  stands  the 
church  of  St.  Botolph,  dedicated  to  a  Cornish  saint,  who 
lived  about  the  reign  of  King  Lucius.  This  church  appears 
to  have  been  originally  founded  at  the  time  of  the  Norman 
Conquest.  About  the  year  1418  it  was  enlarged  and  beau- 
tified at  the  private  expense  of  one  Robert  Burford,  but  was 
shortly  afterwards  rebuilt  by  the  Priory  of  the  Holy  Trinity 
within  Aldgate,  the  brethren  of  which  enjoyed  the  impro- 
priation  of  the  living.  St.  Botolph's  escaped  the  great  con- 
flagration in  1666,  but  falling  into  decay  in  the  middle  of 
the  last  century,  it  was  taken  down ;  and  between  the  years 
1741  and  1744,  the  present  ponderous  and  unsightly  edifice 
was  erected  on  its  site. 

The  only  monument  in  St.  Botolph's  Church  of  any  his- 
torical interest,  is  that  of  Thomas  Lord  Darcy,  Knight  of  the 
Garter,  who  was  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill  for  high  treason  in 
1536.  This  gallant  and  conscientious  nobleman  had  obtained 
high  honours  and  distinctions  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the 
Seventh,  and  had  enjoyed  the  confidence  of  his  successor. 
Opposed,  however,  to  the  innovations  of  the  new  religion, 
he  absented  himself  from  Parliament  rather  than  sanction 
the  dissolution  of  the  monasteries,  and  having  subsequently 
joined  in  Ask's  rebellion,  was  convicted  on  a  charge  of  deli- 
vering up  Pontefract  Castle  to  the  rebels,  and  led  to  the 
block.  The  monument  to  his  memory  stood  originally  in  the 
chancel  of  the  old  church,  but  is  now  placed  on  the  east  side 
of  the  entrance  front.  It  represents  the  figure  of  Lord 
Darcy,  wrapped  in  a  winding-sheet,  in  a  recumbent  posture, 
beneath  an  entablature  supported  by  columns,  and  bears  the 
following  inscription : — 

"  Here  lyeth  Thomas  Lord  Darcy  of  the  North,  and  some- 


336  ST.  BOTOLPH'S  CHURCHYARD. 

time  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter ;  Sir  Nicholas  Carew,  Knight 
of  the  Garter ;  Lady  Elizabeth  Carew,  daughter  to  Sir  Fran. 
Brian ;  Sir  Arthur  Darcy,  younger  son  to  the  said  Lord 
Darcy;  and  Lady  Mary,  his  dear  wife,  daughter  of  Sir 
Nicholas  Carew,  who  had  ten  sons  and  five  daughters." 

Sir  Nicholas  Carew,  the  knight  here  mentioned,  also  lost 
his  head  on  the  block.  He  had  been  Master  of  the  Horse  to 
Henry  the  Eighth,  and  a  Knight  of  the  Garter,  but  having 
been  implicated  in  the  plot  said  to  have  been  devised  by 
Edward  Courtenay,  Marquis  of  Exeter,  for  deposing  the 
King  and  raising  Cardinal  Pole  to  the  supreme  power,  he 
was  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill  on  the  3rd  of  March,  1538. 
Another  of  the  Darcy  family  who  lies  buried  here  is  Sir 
Edward,  third  son  of  Sir  Arthur  Darcy,  who  died  on  the 
28th  of  October,  1612. 

The  only  other  monument  in  St.  Botolph's  Church  of  any 
interest,  is  that  of  Robert  Dow,  a  charitable  and  munificent 
citizen  and  merchant-tailor  of  London,  who  died  on  the  2nd 
of  May,  1612.  This  was  the  person  who  bequeathed  a  sum 
of  money  to  the  parish  church  of  St.  Sepulchre's,  to  ensure  the 
ringing  of  a  hand-bell  at  certain  periods  of  the  night  beneath 
the  walls  of  Newgate,  in  order  to  remind  the  condemned 
prisoners  of  their  present  condition  and  approaching  fate. 

The  churchyard  of  St.  Botolph's  is  the  site  of  one  of  those 
vast  burial-pits,  in  which  the  bodies  of  the  countless  victims 
of  the  great  plague — "  unaneled,  uncofimed,  and  unknown" — 
were  flung  indiscriminately  in  1665.  "  I  went,"  writes  Defoe 
in  his  "  History  of  the  Plague,"  "  at  the  first  part  of  the  time 
freely  about  the  streets,  though  not  so  freely  as  to  run 
myself  into  apparent  danger,  except  when  they  dug  the 
great  pit  in  the  churchyard  of  our  parish  of  Aldgate.  A 
terrible  pit  it  was,  and  I  could  not  resist  my  curiosity  to  go 
.and  see  it.  As  near  as  I  may  judge  it  was  about  forty  feet 


BURIAL  OF  THE  PLAGUE-STRICKEN.  337 

in  length ;  and  about  fifteen  or  sixteen  feet  broad,  and  at  the 
time  I  first  looked  at  it,  about  nine  feet  deep ;  but  it  was 
said  they  dug  it  near  twenty  feet  deep  afterwards  in  one 
part  of  it,  till  they  could  go  no  deeper  for  the  water.  They 
had,  it  seems,  dug  several  large  pits  before  this ;  for  though 
the  plague  was  long  a-coming  to  our  parish,  yet  when  it  did 
come,  there  was  no  parish  in  or  about  London  where  it 
raged  with  such  violence,  as  in  the  two  parishes  of  Aldgate 
and  Whitechapel." 

It  was  at  night,  by  the  fitful  light  of  the  torches  borne  by 
the  buriers  of  the  dead,  that  Defoe  describes  himself  looking 
into  the  frightful  plague-pit  in  St.  Botolph's  churchyard.  "  I 
stood  wavering,"  he  writes,  "for  some  time,  but  just  at  that 
interval  I  saw  two  links  come  over  from  the  end  of  the 
Minories,  and  heard  the  bellman,  and  then  appeared  a  dead- 
cart,  so  they  called  it,  coming  over  the  streets,  so  I  could  no 
longer  resist  my  desire  of  seeing  it,  and  went  in.  There  was 
nobody,  as  I  could  perceive  at  first,  in  the  churchyard  or 
going  into  it,  but  the  buriers  and  the  fellow  that  drove  the 
cart,  or  rather  led  the  horse  and  cart;  but  when  they  came 
up  to  the  pit  they  saw  a  man,  muffled  up  in  a  brown  cloak, 
making  motions  with  his  hands  under  his  cloak,  as  if  he 
were  in  a  great  agony.  The  buriers  immediately  gathered 
about  him,  supposing  he  was  one  of  those  poor  delirious  or 
desperate  creatures  that  used  to  pretend,  as  I  have  said,  to 
bury  themselves.  He  said  nothing  as  he  walked  about,  but 
two  or  three  times  groaned  very  deeply  and  loud,  and  sighed 
as  he  would  break  his  heart.  When  the  buriers  came  up  to 
him,  they  soon  found  he  was  neither  a  person  infected  and 
desperate,  nor  a  person  distempered  in  mind,  but  one  op- 
pressed with  a  dreadful  weight  of  grief  indeed,  having  his 
wife  and  several  of  his  children  all  in  the  cart  that  was  just 
come  in  with  him,  and  he  followed  in  an  agony  and  excess 

VOL.  IL  22 


338  BURIAL  OF  THE  PLAGUE  STRICKEN, 

of  sorrow.  He  mourned  heartily,  as  it  was  easy  to  see,  but 
with  a  kind  of  masculine  grief  that  could  not  give  itself 
vent  by  tears.  Calmly  desiring  the  buriers  to  let  him  alone, 
he  said  he  would  only  see  the  bodies  thrown  in  and  go  away, 
so  they  left  importuning  him,  but  no  sooner  was  the  cart 
turned  round,  and  the  bodies  shot  into  the  pit  promiscuously 
— which  was  a  surprise  to  him,  for  he  at  least  expected  they 
would  have  been  decently  laid  in — I  say  no  sooner  did  he 
see  the  sight  but  he  cried  out  aloud,  unable  to  contain  him- 
self. I  could  not  hear  what  he  said,  but  he  went  backward 
two  or  three  times,  and  fell  down  in  a  swoon.  The  buriers 
ran  to  him,  and  took  him  up,  and  in  a  little  while  he  came  to 
himself,  and  they  led  him  away  to  the  Pye  tavern,  over 
against  the  end  of  Houndsditch,  where,  it  seems,  the  man 
was  known,  and  where  they  took  care  of  him.  He  looked 
into  the  pit  again  as  he  went  away,  but  the  buriers  had 
covered  the  bodies  so  immediately,  with  throwing  in  the 
earth,  that  though  there  was  light  enough,  for  there  were 
lanterns  and  candles  in  them,  placed  all  night  round  the 
sides  of  the  pit  upon  the  heaps  of  earth — seven  or  eight,  or 
perhaps  more — yet  nothing  could  be  seen.  This  was  a 
mournful  scene  indeed,  and  affected  me  almost  as  much  as 
the  rest,  but  the  other  was  awful  and  full  of  terror.  The 
cart  had  in  it  sixteen  or  seventeen  bodies;  some  were 
wrapped  up  in  linen  sheets,  some  in  rugs,  -some  little  other 
than  naked,  or  so  loose  that  what  covering  they  had  fell 
from  them  in  the  shooting  out  of  the  cart,  and  they  fell  quite 
naked  among  the  rest.  During  a  fortnight  that  the  plague 
was  at  its  height  in  this  neighbourhood,  the  parish  of  Aid- 
gate  is  said  to  have  buried  no  fewer  than  a  thousand  persons 
a  week." 

Adjoining  Aldgate  is  the  spacious  street  of  Whitechapel, 
the  principal  entrance  into  London  from  the  eastern  coun- 


WHITECHAPEL.  339 


ties.  It  is  styled  in  old  records  Villa  beatce  Marice  de  Mat- 
felon  and  derives  its  name  from  the  church  of  St.  Mary, 
Matfelon — originally  a  chapel  of  ease  to  St.  Dunstan's 
Stepney — which,  from  the  whiteness  of  its  exterior,  was 
called  the  White  Chapel.  In  the  churchyard  of  St.  Mary's 
lies  buried  Richard  Brandon,  the  presumed  executioner  of 
Charles  the  First,  and  in  the  vaults  of  the  church  Richard 
Parker,  the  leader  of  the  mutineers  of  the  Nore. 

In  this  neighbourhood,  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries,  several  'of  the  nobility  had  their  suburban  resi- 
dences. Among  these  were  Thomas  Cromwell,  Earl  of 
Essex,  the  ill-fated  minister  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  Count 
Gondomar,  the  facetious  ambassador  from  Spain  in  the  reign 
of  James  the  First. 

In  what  was  formerly  called  the  Danish  Church,  White- 
chapel,  now  the  British  and  Foreign  Sailors'  Church,  lie 
interred  the  remains  of  Cains  Gabriel  Gibber,  the  sculptor, 
and  of  his  more  celebrated  son,  Colley  Gibber.  The  former 
was  the  architect  of  the  church,  which  was  built  in  1696  at 
the  expense  of  Christian  the  Fifth,  King  of  Denmark,  for 
the  benefit  of  such  of  his  subjects  as  might  reside  in  or  visit 
London.  Opposite  to  the  pulpit  is  the  royal  pew,  in  which 
Christian  the  Seventh  sat  when  he  visited  London  in  1768. 
In  the  church  is  a  tablet  to  the  memory  of  Jane  Gibber,  the 
wife  of  the  sculptor,  and  the  mother  of  Colley  Gibber. 

To  the  north-west  of  Aldgate  is  Duke's  Place,  called 
also  St,  James's  Place,  a  quarter  principally  inhabited 
by  Jews,  whom  Oliver  Cromwell,  in  1650,  allowed  to  settle 
in  this  locality.  Here  stood  the  ancient  Priory  of  the  Holy 
Trinity,  sometimes  called  Christ  Church,  one  of  the  most 
magnificent  monastic  foundations  in  England.  It  was 
founded  by  Matilda,  wife  of  Henry  the  First,  in  1108.  The 
Prior,  in  right  of  his  being  proprietor  of  Knightenguild  or 

22—2 


340  PRIORY  OF  THE  HOLY  TRINITY. 

Portsoken  Ward  as  it  is  now  styled,  was  an  Alderman  of 
London,  and  in  that  capacity  sat  and  rode  in  state  with  the 
members  of  the  Corporation ;  his  scarlet  robe  only  so  far 
differing  from  the  robes  of  the  other  Aldermen,  that  it  was 
shaped  like  that  of  an  ecclesiastic.  "  At  this  time,"  writes 
Stow  in  allusion  to  his  early  recollections  of  the  lordly  Prior 
of  the  Holy  Trinity,  "  the  Prior  kept  a  most  bountiful  house 
of  meat  and  drink,  both  for  rich  and  poor,  as  well  within 
the  house  as  at  the  gates,  to  all  comers,  according  to  their 
estates." 

At  the  dissolution  of  the  monastic  houses,  the  Priory  of 
the  Holy  Trinity  was  granted  by  Henry  the  Eighth  to  Sir 
Thomas  Audley,  who  succeeded  Sir  Thomas  More  as  Lord 
Chancellor  of  England,  and  who  was  created  Baron  Audley 
of  Walden  on  the  29th  of  November,  1538.  Here  he  built 
a  magnificent  mansion,  where  he  died  on  the  19th  of  April, 
1544,  bequeathing  a  legacy  of  one  hundred  pounds  to  his 
royal  master,  "  from  whom  he  had  received  all  his  reputa- 
tions and  benefits."  By  the  marriage  of  his  only  daughter 
and  sole  heiress,  Margaret,  to  the  chivalrous  and  accora- 
plished  Thomas  Duke  of  Norfolk,  famous  for  his  romantic 
attachment  to  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  Audley  House  became 
the  property  and  the  residence  of  that  nobleman,  and  from 
him  Duke's  Place  derives  its  name.  A  visit  paid  by  the 
Duke  to  his  princely  mansion  in  Duke's  Place,  in  1562, 
affords  us  a  striking  picture  of  the  magnificence  of  the 
times.  By  the  side  of  the  Duke  rode  his  Duchess.  The  pro- 
cession was  headed  by  the  four  heralds,  Clarencieux,  Somer- 
set, Red  Cross,  and  Blue  Mantle;  the  gentlemen  of  the 
ducal  household  followed  in  coats  of  velvet,  and  the  proces- 
sion closed  with  a  hundred  retainers  in  the  livery  of  the 
Howards.  The  Duke  was  beheaded  oo.  Tower  Hill,  on  the 
2nd  of  June,  1572,  at  the  early  age  of  thirty-four.  His 


LEADENHALL  STREET.  341 

mansion  in  Duke's  Place  descended  to  his  eldest  son  by 
Margaret  Audley,  Thomas,  created  in  1603  Earl  of  Suffolk, 
who  sold  it  in  July,  1592,  to  the  Mayor  and  Corporation  of 
London.  It  was  in  this  house  that  the  great  painter,  Hans 
Holbein,  died  of  the  plague,  in  1554. 

Of  the  Priory  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  the  only  portion  re- 
maining in  our  time  was  a  small  but  beautiful  crypt,  of  great 
antiquity,  beneath  a  house  till  of  late  standing  at  the  junc- 
tion of  Leadenhall  Street  and  Fenchurch  Street.  From  the 
ruins  of  the  Priory,  however,  rose  the  present  St.  James's 
Church,  Mitre  Square,  which  was  built  in  1621,  during  the 
mayoralty  of  Sir  Edward  Barkham,  who  was  principally 
instrumental  in  obtaining  its  erection.  It  escaped  the  fire 
of  1666,  but  falling  into  a  ruinous  condition,  the  present 
dilapidated  and  uninteresting  building  was  erected  in  1727. 

Aldgate  leads  us  into  Leadenhall  Street,  so  called  from 
"Leaden  Hall,"  a  large  and  ponderous-looking  mansion, 
inhabited,  about  the  year  1309,  by  Sir  Hugh  Neville,  and 
afterwards  the  residence  of  the  De  Bohuns,  Earls  of  Here- 
ford. In  1408  it  was  purchased  by  Whittington,  Lord 
Mayor  of  London,  who  presented  it  to  the  corporation,  and, 
in  1445,  Sir  Simon  Eyre,  citizen  and  draper,  established  here, 
"  of  his  own  charges,"  a  public  granary  of  square  stone,  with 
a  chapel  at  the  east  end.  In  this  chapel,  a  few  years  after- 
wards, was  founded  a  fraternity  of  sixty  priests,  besides  other 
brethren  and  sisters,  whose  duty  it  was  to  perform  divine 
service  every  market  day,  for  the  edification  of  the  persons 
who  frequented  Leadenhall  Market. 

Defoe,  speaking  of  the  desolation  of  this  populous  part  of 
London  during  the  plague,  [observes — "  The  great  streets 
within  the  City,  such  as  Leadenhall  Street,  Bishopsgate 
Street,  Cornhill,  and  even  the  Exchange  itself,  had  grass 
growing  in  them  in  several  places.  Neither  cart  nor  coach 


342  ST.  CATHERINE  CREE. 

was  seen  in  the  streets  from  morning  to  evening,  except 
some  country  carts,  to  bring  roots,  beans,  or  pease,  hay  and 
straw,  to  the  market,  and  of  .those  but  very  few,  compared 
to  what  was  usual.  As  for  coaches  they  were  scarce  used 
but  to  carry  sick  people  to  the  pest-house  and  to  other  hos- 
pitals ;  and  some  few  to  carry  physicians  to  such  places  as 
they  thought  fit  to  venture  to  visit." 

It  was  at  the  King's  Head  Tavern,  which  stood  till  within  a 
few  years  on  the  north  side  of  Leadenhall  Street,  that  the  con- 
spirators engaged  in  Sir  John  Fenwicke's  plot,  in  the  reign 
of  William  the  Third,  were  accustomed  to  hold  their  meet- 
ings. The  kitchen  of  the  house,  No.  153,  still  contains  a 
curious  English  crypt. 

On  the  north  side  of  Leadenhall  Street,  on  the  site  of  what 
was  once  the  cemetery  of  the  Priory  of  the  Holy  Trinity, 
stands  the  interesting  church  of  St.  Catherine  Cree,  so  called 
from  its  having  been  dedicated  to  St.  Catherine,  an  Egyptian 
virgin ;  the  word  Cree,  or  Christ,  having  been  added  in  order 
to  distinguish  it  from  other  churches  in  London  dedicated  to 
the  same  saint. .  The  original  structure,  which  was  of  great 
antiquity,  was  pulled  down  and  rebuilt  in  1107.  With  the 
exception  of  the  tower,  it  was  again  rebuilt,  as  it  now  stands, 
in  1629 — according  to  some  accounts,  under  the  direction  of 
the  great  architect,  Inigo  Jones.  The  interior  of  the  church 
presents  a  singular  appearance,  from  the  strange  mixture  of 
Gothic  and  Corinthian  architecture,  certainly  a  very  inap- 
propriate union,  but  nevertheless  extremely  picturesque  in 
its  general  effect. 

From  a  passage  in  Strype,  there  is  reason  for  presuming 
that  either  in  St.  Catherine's  Cree,  or  in  the  adjoining 
churchyard,  rest  the  remains  of  the  illustrious  Holbein. 
One  of  the  few  redeeming  traits  in  the  character  of  Henry 
the  Eighth,  was  his  having  appreciated  the  genius  of,  and 


NICHOLAS  THROCKMORTON.  343 

befriended  the  great  artist.  Every  one  remembers  his 
speech  to  a  nobleman  of  his  court  who  came  to  prefer  a  com- 
plaint to  him  of  presumed  insolence  on  the  part  of  Holbein. 
"  Begone,  and  remember  that  I  shall  look  upon  any  injury 
offered  to  the  painter  as  an  insult  to  myself.  I  tell  you,  I 
can  make  seven  lords  of  seven  ploughmen,  but  I  cannot 
make  one  Holbein  even  of  seven  lords."  That  the  illustrious 
artist  lies  buried  in  St.  Catherine's  Cree  certainly  requires 
proof;  but  the  unquestionable  fact  of  his  having  breathed 
his  last  under  the  adjoining  roof  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
adds  weight  to  the  supposition.  According  to  Strype,  it 
was  the  intention  of  the  Duke's  eldest  son,  Philip  Earl  of 
Arundel,  to  erect  a  monument  over  his  grave,  but  from  the 
length  of  time  which  had  elapsed  since  his  death,  the  Earl 
was  unable  to  discover  the  exact  spot  where  his  remains 
rested. 

In  LSt.  Catherine's  Church  also  lies  buried  the  eminent 
soldier,  diplomatist,  and  statesman,  Sir  Nicholas  Throck- 
morton,  who  was  involved  in  the  daring  project  of  the  Duke 
of  Suffolk  to  raise  the  Lady  Jane  Grey  to  the  throne,  and 
who  only  escaped  with  his  life  by  the  admirable  defence 
which  he  made  at  his  trial  at  Guildhall.  He  commanded 
at  Musselburgh-field,  for  which  service  he  was  knighted. 
He  was  held  in  great  estimation  by  Queen  Elizabeth,  who 
employed  him  as  her  ambassador  both  in  France  and  Scot- 
land. According  to  Camden — "  Though  a  man  of  a  large 
experience,  piercing  judgment,  and  singular  prudence,  yet  he 
was  never  master  of  much  wealth,  nor  rose  higher  than  to 
those  small  dignities,  though  glorious  in  title,  of  Chief  Cup- 
bearer of  England,  and  Chamberlain  of  the  Exchequer ;  and 
this  because  he  acted  in  favour  of  Leicester,  against  Cecil, 
whose  greatness  he  envied.  It  was  in  Cecil's  house,  as  he 
was  feeding  heartily  at  supper  upon  a  salad,  that  he  was 


344  ARCHBISHOP  LAUD. 

seized,  as  some  say,  with  an  inflammation  of  the  lungs,  as 
others,  with  a  catarrh,  not  without  suspicion  of  poison ;  and 
died  very  luckily  for  himself  and  family,  his  life  and  estate 
being  in  great  danger  by  reason  of  his  turbulent  spirit."  It 
appears  that  he  expired  before  he  could  be  removed  from  the 
table.* 

The  only  other  monument  of  any  interest  in  St.  Cathe- 
rine's Church,  is  a  bas-relief,  executed  by  the  elder  Bacon, 
erected  to  the  memory  of  Samuel  Thorpe  in  1791. 

This  church  is  connected  with  a  curious  passage  in  the 
life  of  Archbishop  Laud.  Laud's  intemperate  zeal  in  all 
matters  connected  with  church  and  state — his  active  and 
ill-timed  endeavours  to  elevate  the  Church  of  England  to  a 
higher  standard  in  regard  to  authority  and  discipline — his 
rigorous  prosecutions  of  the  Puritans  in  the  Star-chamber — 
his  introduction  into  Church  ceremonials  of  music,  pictures, 
vestments,  and  other  paraphernalia,  at  a  time  when  such 
innovations  were  most  unseasonable — had  led  to  his  being 
regarded  by  the  Puritanical  party  in  England  with  feelings 
of  detestation  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  exaggerate. 
Then  it  was,  when  the  popular  outcry  was  at  its  highest, 
that,  having  been  called  upon,  on  the  16th  of  January, 
1630-1,  to  consecrate  the  new  church  of  St.  Catherine 
Cree,  he  was  unwise  enough  to  perform  the  ceremony 
attended  by  all  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  the  Church 

*  His  monument  consists  of  his  effigy  in  marble,  lying  at  full  length,  on 
stone  carved  in  imitation  of  matting,  and  bears  the  following  inscription  : — 

"Here  lyeth  the  body  of  Nicholas  Throckmorton,  Knight,  the  fourth  son 
of  George  Throckmorton,  Knight ;  which  Sir  Nicholas  was  Chief  Butler  of 
England,  one  of  the  Chamberlains  of  the  Exchequer,  and  Ambassador- 
Leiger  to  the  Queen's  Majesty,  Queen  Elizabeth.  And  after  his  return 
into  England,  he  was  sent  Ambassador  again  into  France,  and  twice  into- 
Scotland.  He  married  Anne  Carew,  daughter  to  Sir  Nicholas  Carew, 
Knight,  and  begat  of  her  ten  sons  and  three  daughters.  He  died  the  12th 
of  February,  1570,  aged  57." 


CONSECRATION  OF  ST.  CATHERINE  CREE.      345 

of  Rome.  At  his  approach,  certain  persons  stationed  near 
the  door  called  out  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Open,  open,  ye  ever- 
lasting doors,  that  the  Bang  of  Glory  may  enter  in."  Then 
followed  the  Archbishop,  who,  falling  on  his  knees,  and  ex- 
tending his  arms,  exclaimed,  "  This  place  is  holy ;  the  ground 
is  holy ;  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  I 
pronounce  it  holy."  Having  risen  from  his  knees,  he  pro- 
ceeded towards  the  chancel,  bowing,  and  throwing  dust  in 
the  air  as  he  passed  along.  The  procession  then  made  a 
circuit  of  the  church ;  the  Archbishop  repeating  two  psalms 
and  a  prayer,  which  were  followed  by  his  pronouncing  ana- 
themas against  any  future  profaner  of  the  place,  and  blessings 
on  those  who  had  assisted  in  its  erection.  At  every  sentence 
he  made  a  profound  bow. 

The  scene  which  followed  the  delivery  of  the  sermon  is 
described  by  his  arch  enemy,  the  acrimonious  Prynne,  in  his 
"  Canterbury's  Doom,"  with  pungent  though  almost  profane 
humour.     "  When  the  bishop  approached  near  the  Commu- 
nion-table, he  bowed  with  his  nose  very  near  the  ground, 
some  six  or  seven  time&     Then  he  came  to  one  of  the  cor- 
ners of  the  tables,  and  there  bowed  himself  three  times ; 
then  to  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  corners,  bowing  at  each 
corner  three  times ;  but  when  he  came  to  the  side  of  the 
table  where  the  bread  and  wine  was,  he  bowed  himself 
seven  times.     Then,  after  the  reading  many  prayers  by  him- 
self and  his  two  fat  chaplains  (which  were  with  him,  and 
all  this  while  were  upon  their  knees  by  him,  in  their  sur- 
plices, hoods,  and  tippets),  he  himself  came  near  the  bread, 
which  was  cut  and  laid  in  a  fine  napkin  ;  and  then  he  gently 
lifted  up  one  of  the  corners  of  the  said  napkin,  and  peeped 
into  it  till  he  saw  the  bread  (like  a  boy  that  peeps  into  a 
bird's- nest  in  a  bush),  and  presently  clapped  it  down  again, 
and  flew  back  a  step  or  two;   and  then  bowed  very  low 


346  LAUD  AND  THE  PURITAN  PRYNNE. 

three  times  towards  it  and  the  table.  When  he  beheld  the 
bread,  then  he  came  near,  and  opened  the  napkin  again,  and 
bowed  as  before.  Then  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the  gilt  cup, 
which  was  full  of  wine,  with  a  cover  upon  it.  So  soon  as 
he  had  pulled  the  cup  a  little  nearer  to  him,  he  let  the  cup 
go,  flew  back,  and  bowed  again  three  times  towards  it ;  then 
he  came  near  again,  and  lifting  up  the  cover  of  the  cup, 
peeped  into  it,  and  seeing  the  wine,  he  let  fall  the  cover  on 
it  again,  and  flew  nimbly  back,  and  bowed  as  before.  After 
these,  and  many  other  apish,  antic  gestures,  he  himself  re- 
ceived, and  then  gave  the  sacrament  to  some  principal  men 
only,  they  devoutly  kneeling  near  the  table ;  after  which 
more  prayers  being  said,  this  scene  and  interlude  ended." 

That  these  and  similar  satirical  attacks  on  the  part  of 
Prynne  sank  deeply  into  the  heart  of  Laud,  may  be  assumed 
from  the  extreme  rigour  of  the  sentence  passed  upon  the 
former  the  following  year  when  brought  before  the  Star 
Chamber  for  publishing  his  famous  "  Histrio  Mastix."  He 
was  sentenced  to  be  expelled  the  University  of  Oxford  and 
the  Society  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  to  be  degraded  from  his  pro- 
fession of  the  law,  to  stand  twice  in  the  pillory,  to  lose  an 
ear  each  time,  and  to  be  incarcerated  for  life.  Nevertheless, 
Prynne  lived  to  conduct  the  famous  prosecution  against 
Laud,  and  to  bring  the  haughty  prelate  to  the  block.  He 
survived,  moreover,  the  loss  of  his  ears  nearly  forty  years, 
and  after  having  opposed  the  despotism  of  Cromwell  and 
the  bigotry  of  the  Independents  with  the  same  undaunted 
spirit  with  which  he  had  combated  the  intolerance  of  Laud 
and  the  aggressive  domination  of  Straffbrd,  he  lived  to  be 
grateful  at  the  Restoration  for  a  livelihood  which  he  ob- 
tained as  Keeper  of  the  Records  in  the  Tower,  and  to  forget 
the  storms  of  the  past  in  the  literary  seclusion  of  his  cham- 
bers in  Lincoln's  Inn. 


THE  MA  YPOLE  AT  ST.  MARY- AXE.  347 

On  the  north  side  of  Leadenhall  Street,  at  the  east 
corner  of  St.  Mary-Axe,  stands  the  beautiful  church  of 
St.  Andrew  Undershaft,  dedicated  to  St.  Andrew  the 
Apostle.  It  derives  its  second  name  from  a  shaft,  or  May- 
pole, which  stood  opposite  to  it,  and  which  towered  above 
the  church  itself. 

As  we  have  already  mentioned,  this  Maypole,  which  was 
more  celebrated  even  than  that  in  the  Strand,  owed  its 
downfall  to  the  fanaticism  of  one  Sir  Stephen,  curate  of 
St.  Catherine  Cree,  who  in  a  sermon  which  he  preached  at 
Paul's  Cross,  contrived  to  convince  his  ignorant  audience 
that  it  was  associated  with  idolatry,  and  so  wrought  upon 
their  bigotry  that  they  severed  it  into  pieces  and  committed 
it  piecemeal  to  the  flames.  It  was  a  sad  sacrilege,  for  the 
old  Maypole  had]  from  time  immemorial,  been  associated 
with  many  innocent  pastimes. 

"Happy  the  age,  and  harmless  were  the  days, 
For  then  true  love  and  amity  were  found, 
When  every  village  did  a  Maypole  raise, 

And  Whitsun-;ales  and  May-games  did  abound." 

On  the  return  of  every  first  of  May,  the  Maypole,  decorated 
with  scarfs,  ribbons,  and  flowers,  was  raised  into  the  air  with 
great  ceremony  by  yokes  of  oxen  in  front  of  the  south  door 
of  the  church ;  the  horns  of  the  oxen  being  tipped  with 
nosegays  of  flowers.  Bands  of  music ;  men,  women,  and 
children,  carrying  boughs  and  branches  for  which  they  had 
gone  "  a-maying  "  in  the  neighbouring  meadows  and  lanes 
of  Hampstead,  Highgate,  and  Greenwich ;  arbours,  summer- 
halls,  and  bowers ;  the  Queen  of  the  May,  with  her  blushing 
face  and  laughing  eyes ;  the  revelling  and  merriment,  «nd 
harmless  jokes ;  and,  above  all,  the  light  forms  circling  the 
Maypole  in  the  merry  dance, — such  were  the  scenes  which 
the  first  of  May  witnessed  in  England  in  the  olden  time. 


348  MONUMENT  OF  STOW. 

But  we  must  return  to  St.  Andrew's  Church,  still  a  most  in- 
teresting relic  of  the  past  with  its  ancient  monuments,  its 
rich  specimens  of  Tudor  architecture,  its  fresco  paintings  of 
the  Apostles  between  the  windows ;  the  nave,  with  its  square 
panels  painted  blue  and  its  gilded  ornaments  of  shields  and 
flowers ;  and  lastly,  its  pulpit  of  carved  oak,  and  its  large 
painted  window  at  the  east  end  of  the  nave,  in  which,  in 
stained  glass,  are  portraits  of  the  sovereigns  of  England 
from  Edward  the  Sixth  to  Charles  the  Second. 

The  first  notice  which  we  find  of  St.  Andrew's  Church  is 
in  1362,  when  William  of  Chichester  was  the  rector.  The 
present  building  was  erected  between  the  years  1520  and 
1532.  Among  the  more  curious  and  ancient  monuments 
which  it  contains  may  be  mentioned  a  brass  plate,  with 
figures  engraved  on  it,  in  memory  of  Simon  Burton,  citizen, 
who  died  in  1595  ;  another  to  the  memory  of  Thomas  Levi- 
son,  Sheriff,  who  died  in  1534 ;  a  fine  monument  of  Sir 
Thomas  Offley,  Knight  and  Alderman,  who  died  in  1582 ; 
and  a  sumptuous  tomb  to  the  memory  of  Sir  Hugh  Ham- 
mersly  and  his  wife,  erected  in  1637. 

But  by  far  the  most  interesting  monument  in  the  church 
is  that  of  the  indefatigable  antiquary,  JOHN  STOW.  His 
monument,  which  is  of  considerable  size,  and  fenced  with 
an  iron  rail,  represents  him  in  effigy  sitting  at  a  desk,  in  a 
furred  gown,  in  the  attitude  of  study.  It  is  said  to  be 
formed  of  terra,  cotta,  or  clay  burned,  but  has  all  the  ap- 
pearance of  being  of  alabaster  or  marble.  Neglected  and 
persecuted  during  his  lifetime,  his  remains,  according  to 
Maitland,  were  not  even  permitted  to  rest  in  peace  after  his 
death,  having  been  removed,  in  1732,  to  make  room  for  the 
body  of  another  person. 

In  St.  Andrew's  Church,  lies  buried  Peter  Anthony  Mot- 
teux,  once  popular  as  a  poet,  and  the  translator  of  Don 


ST.  MARY  AXE.  349 


Quixote  and  of  Rabelais.  He  carried  on  a  prosperous 
business  as  a  vendor  of  East  India  wares  in  Leadenhall 
Street,  and  died  in  a  disreputable  house  in  the  Strand  in 
1718. 

St.  Mary  Axe,  on  the  north  side  of  Leadenhall  Street, 
derives  its  name,  according  to  Stow,  from  the  sign  of  an 
Axe,  which  was  formerly  a  conspicuous  object  at  one  end 
of  it.  Nearly  on  this  spot,  facing  Leadenhall  Street,  stood, 
in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Fifth,  the  London  residence 
of  the  powerful  family  of  the  De  Veres,  Earls  of  Oxford. 
Here  in  this  reign,  resided  Richard  the  eleventh  Earl,  who 
fought  by  the  side  of  his  royal  master  during  the  wars  in 
France,  and  who  died  in  that  country  in  1417. 

In  Lime  Street,  on  the  south  side  of  Leadenhall  Street, 
stood  the  mansion  and  chapel  of  the  accomplished  Sir  Simon 
de  Burley,  formerly  in  the  possession  of  Lord  Neville.  Lime 
Street  is  said  to  take  its  name  from  lime  having  been  made 
or  sold  here.  In  this  street  the  first  Penny  Post  Office  was 
established  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second. 


CORNHILL,    SAINT    MICHAEL'S    CHURCH, 
ROYAL  EXCHANGE,  &c. 

CORNHILL  FREQUENTED  BY  OLD  CLOTHES  SELLERS. — "  POPE'S  HEAD." — FIRST 
LONDON  COFFEE-HOUSE. — TEA-DRINKING.— ST.  MICHAEL'S  CHURCH. — THE 
STANDARD  IN  CORNHILL. — THE  ROYAL  EXCHANGE. — THE  PAWN. — ROYAL 
EXCHANGE  BAZAAR. — CHANGE  ALLEY. — THREADNEEDLE  STREET. — GORDON 
RIOTS.  —  MERCHANT  TAYLORS*  COMPANY. — SOUTHSEA  HOUSE. — DRAPERS' 
COMPANY. — PLAGUE  IN  LOTHBURY. 

LEADENHALL  STREET  leads  us  into  Cornhill,  which 
derives  its  name  from  its  having  been  from  time  im- 
memorial the  principal  corn-market  in  London.     In 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  Cornhill  appears  to  have  been  princi- 
pally frequented  by  the  vendors  of  worn-out  apparel,  who, 
according  to  Stow,  were  not  among  the  most  honest  classes 
of  the  community.     "I  have  read  of  a  countryman,"   he 
writes,   "that,  having  lost  his  hood  in  Westminster  Hall, 
found  the  same  in  Cornhill,  hanged  out  to  be  sold,  which  he 
challenged,  but  was  forced  to  buy  or  go  without  it." 

In  Cornhill  stood  a  large  building  called  the  Pope's  Head, 
said  to  be  one  of  the  most  ancient  taverns  in  London,  and 
which  unquestionably  existed  in  the  early  part  of  the  reign  of 
Edward  the  Fourth.  Here,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Sixth, 
wine  was  sold  for  one  penny  the  pint;  no  charge  being  made  for 
bread.  According  to  Stow,  the  Pope's  Head  had  not  impro- 
bably been  a  royal  palace.  In  his  time  the  ancient  arms  of 
England,  consisting  of  three  leopards,  supported  between 
two  angels,  were  still  to  be  seen  engraved  in  stone  on  the 
walls.  In  this  tavern,  on  the  14th  of  April,  1718,  Bowen,  a 


THE  FIRST  LONDON  COFFEE  HOUSE.  351 

hot-headed  Irish  comedian,  was  killed  in  a  duel  of  his  own 
seeking  by  his  fellow-actor,  Quin.  The  site  of  the  Pope's 
Head,  is  pointed  out  by  Pope's  Head  Alley,  running  from 
Cornhill  into  Lombard  Street. 

The  house  numbered  41  in  Cornhill,  is  said  to  stand  on 
the  site  of  the  one  in  which,  on  the  26th  of  December,  1716, 
Gray,  the  poet,  first  saw  the  light. 

On  the  south  side  of  Cornhill  is  St.  Michael's  Alley,  so 
called  from  St.  Michael's  Church,  the  tower  of  which  is  so 
conspicuous  an  ornament  of  this  part  of  London.  In  this 
alley,  opposite  the  church,  stood,  in  the  days  of  the  Common- 
wealth, the  first  coffee-house  established  in  London.  Accord- 
ing to  Aubrey,  it  was  opened  about  the  year  1652  by  one 
Bowman,  coachman  to  Mr.  Hodges,  a  Turkey  merchant,  by 
whom  Bowman  was  induced  to  undertake  the  speculation. 
An  original  hand-bill,  discovered  by  the  late  Mr.  D'Israeli, 
sets  forth — "  The  vertue  of  the  coffee-drink,  first  publiquely 
made  and  sold  in  England,  by  Pasqua  Rosee,  in  St.  Michael's 
Alley,  Cornhill,  at  the  sign  of  his  own  head."  This  Pasqua 
Rosee,  it  would  seem,  was  a  Greek  servant  whom  the  mer- 
chant had  brought  to  England  with  him.  In  a  curious 
broadside,  entitled  "  A  Cup  of  Coffee,  or  Coffee  in  its  Colours" 
[1663],  the  writer  ridicules  the  new  fashion  as  both  a  very 
effeminate  innovation — a  very  indifferent  substitute  for  that 
"  sublime  Canary,"  which  warmed  the  souls  of  Ben  Jonson, 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher : — 

"  For  men  and  Christians  to  turn  Turks,  and  think 
To  excuse  the  crime,  because  'tis  in  their  drink  ! 
Pure  English  apes  !  ye  may,  for  aught  I  know, 
Were  it  the  mode, — learn  to  eat  spiders  too. 
Should  any  of  your  grandsires'  ghosts  appear, 
In  your  wax-candle  circles,  and  but  hear 
The  name  of  Coffee  so  much  called  upon, 
Then  see  it  drank  like  scalding  Phlegethon  ; 
Would  they  not  startle,  think  ye  ?  all  agreed 
'Twas  conjuration  both  in  word  and  deed  !"  &c. 


352  TEA-DRINKING. 


Among  other  numerous  broadsides  which  were  thundered 
forth  against  the  new  drink  may  be  mentioned,  "  The 
Women's  Petition  against  Coffee  "  [1674],  where  a  complaint 
is  preferred  that  "  it  made  men  as  unfruitful  as  the  deserts 
whence  that  unhappy  berry  is  said  to  be  brought ;  that  the 
offspring  of  our  mighty  ancestors  would  dwindle  into  a  suc- 
cession of  apes  and  pigmies ;  and,  on  a  domestic  message,  a 
husband  would  stop  by  the  way  to  drink  a  couple  of  cups  of 
coffee."* 

Close  by,  in  Exchange  Alley,  on  the  south  side  of  Corn- 
hill,  tea  also  was  first  sold  and  retailed  for  the  cure  of  all 
disorders,  by  one  Thomas  Garway,  tobacconist  and  coffee- 
man,  whose  name  is  still  preserved  in  the  well-known  Gar- 
raway's  Coffee-house.  The  following  handbill,  as  the  late 
Mr.  D'Israeli  very  justly  observes,  is  more  curious  than  any 
historical  account  which  we  possess  of  its  introduction. 

"  Tea  in  England  hath  been  sold  in  the  leaf  for  six  pounds, 
and  sometimes  for  ten  pounds  the  pound  weight,  and  in  re- 
spect of  its  former  scarceness  and  dearness  it  hath  been  only 
used  as  a  regalia  in  high  treatments  and  entertainments,  and 
presents  made  thereof  to  princes  and  grandees,  till  the  year 
I(j57.  The  said  Garway  did  purchase  a  quantity  thereof, 
and  first  publicly  sold  the  said  tea  in  leaf,  or  drink,  made 
according  to  the  directions  of  the  most  knowing  merchants 
into  those  Eastern  countries.  On  the  knowledge  of  the  said 
Garway's  continued  care  and  industry  in.  obtaining  the  best 
tea,  and  making  drink  thereof,  very  many  noblemen,  physi- 
cians, merchants,  &c.,  have  ever  since  sent  to  him  for  the 
said  leaf,  and  daily  resort  to  his  house  to  drink  the  drink 
thereof.  He  sells  tea  from  16s.  to  50s.  a  pound." 

In   St.  Michael's  Alley,  as  we  have  already  mentioned, 
stands  the  church  of  St.  Michael,  Cornhill,  dedicated  to  the 
*  See  D'Israeli's  "Curiosities  of  Literature,"  p.  288.     Ed.  1839. 


ST.  MICHAEL'S,  CORNHILL.  353 

Archangel  Michael.  Although  a  place  of  worship  appears  to 
have  existed  on  the  spot  previously  to  the  Norman  Conquest, 
we  have  no  distinct  notice  of  it  till  the  commencement  of 
the  twelfth  century,  when  we  find  the  Abbot  of  Covesham 
making  a  grant  of  it  to  one  Sperling,  a  priest,  on  condition 
of  his  paying  an  annual  rent  of  one  mark  to  the  said  Abbot, 
and  providing  him  with  lodging,  salt,  water,  and  fire,  during 
his  occasional  visits  to  London.  The  old  church,  with  the 
exception  of  the  tower,  having  been  destroyed  by  the  great 
fire,  in  1672  the  present  building  was  erected  after  de- 
signs by  Sir  Christopher  Wren.  Half  a  century  afterwards, 
the  tower  was  also  found  to  be  in  a  ruinous  state,  and  ac- 
cordingly it  was  taken  down,  and  rebuilt  in  1721. 

The  interior  of  St.  Michael's  Church  is  in  the  Italian  style 
of  architecture,  divided  into  a  nave  and  aisles  by  Doric 
columns  and  arches.  By  a  strange  anomaly,  the  tower  is 
Gothic,  being  of  that  florid,  or  perpendicular  style,  which 
distinguished  the  latest  period  of  pointed  architecture  in 
England.  This  noble  tower — faulty  only  in  its  occasional 
details,  where  the  architect  has  mingled  the  Italian  with  the 
Gothic  style — is  130  feet  in  height,  and  is  said  to  have 
been  built  in  imitation  of  the  beautiful  chapel  tower  of  Mag- 
dalen College,  Oxford,  erected  in  the  fifteenth  century.  In 
the  old  church  were  interred  the  remains  of  the  well-known 
chronicler,  Robert  Fabian,  a  sheriff'  and  alderman  of  London, 
who  died  in  1511.  Here  also  lie  the  remains  of  Thomas 
Stow  the  father,  and  of  Thomas  Stow  the  grandfather,  of 
the  celebrated  antiquary.  The  former  died  in  1559,  the 
latter  in  1526.  Stow  himself  was  born  in  the  parish  of  St. 
Michael's  about  the  year  1525 ;  and  here  his  ancestors,  for 
at  least  three  generations,  resided  as  citizens  and  tradesmen.* 

*  The  will  of  Stow's  grandfather,  who  describes  himself  as  Citizen  and 
Tallow-chandler,  has  been  preserved  by  Strype,  and  is  in  many  respects 

VOL.  ii.  23 


354  THE  STANDARD  IN  CORNHILL. 

The  Standard  in  Cornhill  stood  about  the  centre  of  the 
spot  where  Cornhill  and  Leadenhall  Street  are  intersected 
by  Gracechurch  Street  and  Bishopsgate  Street.  It  consisted 
of  a  large  conduit,  whence  water  spouted  at  four  points, 
which  was  conveyed  from  the  Thames  by  means  of  leaden 
pipes.  It  was  completed  in  1582,  but  though  it  continued 
for  many  years  to  be  an  ornament  to  the  City,  it  had  ceased 
to  be  used  as  a  conduit  in  the  early  part  of  the  reign  of 
James  the  First.  From  the  Standard  in  Cornhill,  as  testified 
by  many  milestones  in  the  suburbs  of  London,  it  was  long 
the  custom  to  measure  distances  into  the  country.. 

On  the  south  side  of  Cornhill  stands  a  church  dedicated 
to  St.  Peter  the  Apostle,  which,  beyond  its  great  antiquity, 
possesses  no  particular  feature  of  interest.  According  to  an 
inscription  on  a  brass  plate  still  preserved  in  the  vestry- 
room,  it  was  founded  as  early  as  the  year  179,  yet  we  find 
no  written  mention  of  it  till  the  year  1235,  when  it  afforded 
a  sanctuary  to  one  Geoffrey  Russel,  who  was  accused  of 


curious.  After  bequeathing  his  soul  "to  Jesus  Christ  and  our  blessed 
Lady,  St.  Mary  the  Virgin,"  and  directing  that  his  body  shall  be  buried 
"in  the  little  green  churchyard  of  the  parish  church  of  St.  Michael  in 
Cornhill,  between  the  cross  and  the  church  wall,"  he  proceeds,  "I  bequeath 
to  the  high  altar  of  the  aforesaid  church,  for  my  tithes  forgotten,  12d. 
Item  to  Jesu's  Brotherhood,  I2d.  I  give  to  our  Lady  and  St.  Bro- 
therhood, 12d.  I  give  to  St.  Christopher  and  St.  George,  I2d.  Also  I  give 
to  the  seven  altars  in  the  church  aforesaid,  in  the  worship  of  the  seven  Sac- 
raments, every  year  during  three  years,  20d.  Item  5s.  to  have  on  every 
altar  a  watching-candle,  burning  from  six  of  the  clock  until  it  be  past 
seven,  in  worship  of  the  seven  Sacraments  ;  and  this  candle  shall  begin  to 
burn,  and  to  be  set  upon  the  altar  from  All  Hallowen-day  till  it  be  Candle- 
mas-day following  ;  and  it  shall  be  a  watching-candle,  of  eight  in  the  pound. 
Also  I  give  to  the  Brotherhood  of  Clerks  to  drink,  20d.  Also,  I  give  to 
them  that  shall  bear  me  to  Church,  every  man  4d.  Also,  I  give  to  a  poor 
man  or  woman  every  Sunday  in  one  year,  Id.  to  say  five  Paternosters  and 
Aves  and  a  Creed  for  my  soul.  Also,  I  give  to  the  reparations  of  Paul's  8d. 
Also,  I  will  have  six  new  torches,  and  two  torches  of  St.  Michael,  and  two 
of  St.  Anne,  and  two  of  St.  Christopher,  and  two  of  Jesus,  of  the  best 
torches." 


THE  ROYAL  EXCHANGE.  355 

having  been  concerned  in  a  murder  which  had  been  perpe- 
trated in  St.  Paul's  churchyard.  The  old  church  having 
been  destroyed  by  the  fire  of  London,  the  present  edifice 
was  erected  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  by  Sir 
Christopher  Wren.  It  reflects  but  little  credit  on  the  genius 
of  that  great  artist.  The  only  monument  in  the  church  of 
any  interest  is  a  small  tablet  which  records  the  melancholy 
death  by  fire,  on  the  18th  of  January,  1782,  of  the  seven 
children  of  James  and  Mary  Woodmason,  of  Leadenhall 
Street.  We  must  not,  however,  omit  to  record,  as  associated 
with  this  church,  one  revered  name,  that  of  the  learned  and 
conscientious  Dr.  William  Beveridge,  afterwards  Bishop  of 
St.  Asaph,  who  was  presented  to  the  living  in  1672. 

The  Royal  Exchange,  on  the  north  side  of  Cornhill,  was 
originally  founded  and  built  at  the  expense  of  the  munificent 
Sir  Thomas  Gresham,  on  a  spot  of  ground  presented  to  him 
for  the  purpose  by  the  City  of  London.  He  himself  laid  the 
first  stone  on  the  7th  of  June,  1566.  Previously  to  its  erec- 
tion, as  we  are  told,  the  merchants  of  London  were  "  more 
like  pedlars  than  merchants,  either  walking  and  talking  in 
an  open  narrow  street,  enduring  all  extremity  of  weather," 
or  standing  for  shelter  under  gateways  and  doorways.  The 
street  here  alluded  to  was  Lombard  Street,  where  the  mer- 
chants of  London  were  anciently  accustomed  to  meet  for  the 
transaction  of  business.  Sir  Thomas  Gresham's  new  and 
magnificent  edifice  was  completed  in  November,  1567,  and 
styled  by  the  foreign  title  of  "  the  Bourse."  The  upper  part 
of  the  building  was  appropriated  to  shops;  the  area  and 
piazzas  below  being  set  apart  for  the  use  of  the  merchants. 

On  the  23rd  of  January,  ]  570-1,  we  find  Queen  Elizabeth 
proceeding  in  great  state  from  her  palace  at  Somerset  House 
t.o  visit  the  new  Bourse  ;  the  bells  in  every  part  of  the  City 
sending  forth  their  merry  peals  during  her  progress.  "  The 

23—2 


356  THE  PAWN. 


Queen's  Majesty,"  writes  Stow,  "  attended  with  her  nobility, 
came  from  her  house  at  the  Strand,  called  Somerset  House, 
and  entered  the  City  by  Temple  Bar,  through  Fleet  Street, 
Cheap,  and  so  by  the  north  side  of  the  Bourse,  through 
Threeneedle  Street,  to  Sir  Thomas  Gresham's  house  in 
Bishopsgate  Street,  where  she  dined.  After  dinner,  her 
Majesty,  returning  through  Cornhill,  entered  the  Bourse  on 
the  south  side,  and  after  that  she  had  viewed  every  part 
thereof,  above  the  ground,  especially  the  Pawn,  which  was 
richly  furnished  with  all  sorts  of  the  finest  wares  in  the 
City,  she  caused  the  same  Bourse,  by  a  herald  and  trumpet, 
to  be  proclaimed  the  Royal  Exchange,  and  so  to  be  called 
from  thenceforth,  and  not  otherwise." 

In  the  days  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  while  the  Tower  was  yet 
a  royal  residence,  and  the  houses  of  many  of  the  nobility 
stood  in  the  adjoining  streets,  the  "Pawn,"*  or  bazaar, 
alluded  to  in  the  foregoing  extract,  was  the  most  fashionable 
lounging-place  in  London.  It  consisted  of  the  upper  part  of 
the  building,  where  rich  and  costly  goods  of  every  description 
were  exposed  for  sale. 

In  the  daytime  the  favourite  place  of  promenade  and 
gossip  was  one  of  the  aisles  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  which 
from  this  circumstance  was  styled  Paul's  Walk,  as  also  were 
its  frequenters  styled  Paul  Walkers.  The  Exchange,  how- 
ever, being  lighted  up  till  ten  o'clock  at  night,  the  idlers  of 
St.  Paul's  usually  found  their  way  in  the  evening  to  the 
Pawn  in  the  Royal  Exchange.  Here  used  to  assemble  a 
motley  group,  consisting  of  foreigners  of  every  variety  of 
language  and  costume,  merchants,  the  wives  of  peers  and 
citizens,  courtiers,  and  adventurers  of  every  class ;  many  of 
the  latter  being  without  any  fixed  means  of  subsistence. 

*  This  name  is  said  to  be  derived  from  the  German  word  balm,  in  Dutch 
baan,  signifying  a  path  or  walk. 


THE  PAWN.  357 


Such  were  the  class  of  persons,  who,  in  the  reigns  of  Eliza- 
beth and  James  the  First,  from  their  frequenting  Paul's 
Walk  in  the  daytime,  were  said  to  dine  with  Duke  Hum- 
phrey ;  and  from  their  lounging  in  the  Exchange  at  night 
were  said  to  sup  with  Sir  Thomas  Gresham.  For  instance, 
Hayman,  in  1628,  thus  addresses  an  epigram  in  his  "  Quod- 
libets"  to  Sir  Pierce  Pennilesse  : — 

"  Though  little  coin  thy  purseless  pockets  line, 
Yet  with  great  company  thou  'rt  taken  up  ; 
For  often  with  Duke  Humphrey  thou  dost  dine, 
And  often  with  Sir  Thomas  Gresham  sup." 

Samuel  Rolle,  speaking  of  the  temptations  held  out  by  the 
<l  Pawn  "  before  its  destruction  by  the  great  fire,  observes : — 
"  What  artificial  thing  was  there  that  could  entertain  the 
senses,  or  the  fantasies  of  men,  that  was  not  there  to  be  had  ? 
Such  was  the  delight  that  many  gallants  took  in  that  maga- 
zine of  all  curious  varieties,  that  they  could  almost  have 
dwelt  there,  going  from  shop  to  shop  like  bees  from  flower 
to  flower,  if  they  had  but  had  a  fountain  of  money  that 
could  not  have  been  drawn  dry." 

Again,  in  a  little  work  by  Daniel  Lupton,  entitled  "  Lon- 
don and  the  Country  Carbonadoed"  [1632],  we  find — "  Here 
are  usually  more  coaches  attendant  than  at  church  doors. 
The  merchants  should  keep  their  wives  from  visiting  the 
upper  rooms  too  often,  lest  they  tire  their  purses  by  attiring 
themselves.  There's  many  gentlewomen  come  hither,  that, 
to  help  their  faces  and  complexions  break  their  husband's 
backs ;  who  play  foul  in  the  country  with  their  land,  to  be 
fair  and  play  false  in  the  City." 

Exactly  a  century  after  the  laying  of  the  first  stone,  the 
Royal  Exchange  perished  in  the  great  fire.  In  the  words  of 
an  eye-witness  of  its  destruction, — the  Rev.  T.  Vincent, — 
""  When  the  fire  was  entered,  how  quickly  did  it  run  round 


358  THE  ROYAL  EXCHANGE. 

the  galleries,  tilling  them  with  flames  ;  then,  descending  the 
stairs,  encompassed  the  walks,  giving  forth  flaming  volleys 
and  filling  the  courts  with  sheets  of  fire:  by-and-by  the 
statues  of  the  Kings  fell  all  down  upon  their  faces,  and  the 
greatest  part  of  the  building  after  them,  with  such  a  noise  as 
was  dreadful  and  astonishing,  the  Founder's  only  remaining." 
The  singular  fact  of  the  statues  of  a  long  line  of  Kings  having 
been  destroyed  by  the  fire,  while  that  of  the  founder  of  the 
Exchange,  Sir  Thomas  Gresham,  remained  uninjured,  is  re- 
corded by  two  other  eye-witnesses  of  the  conflagration, 
Evelyn  and  Pepys.  It  is  still  more  remarkable  that  on  the 
second  destruction  of  the  Hoyal  Exchange  by  fire,  in  1838, 
the  statue  of  Sir  Thomas  Gresham  should  again  have  escaped 
uninjured. 

It  was  not  long  after  the  destruction  of  the  old  Exchange, 
that  a  new  and  still  more  magnificent  edifice  was  com- 
menced, at  the  expense  of  the  merchants  of  London,  with  a 
small  addition  from  the  Gresham  Fund.  Charles  the  Second, 
who  took  considerable  interest  in  its  progress,  presided  at 
the  ceremony  of  laying  the  first  stone,  on  which  occasion  he 
partook  of  a  collation  prepared  under  a  temporary  building 
on  the  spot.  Pepys  inserts  in  his  "  Diary,"  on  the  23rd  of 
October,  1667 : — "  Sir  W.  Penn  and  I  back  into  London,  and 
there  saw  the  King,  with  his  kettle-drums  and  trumpets, 
going  to  the  Exchange,  to  lay  the  first  stone  of  the  first 
pillar ;  which,  the  gates  being  shut,  I  could  not  get  in  to 
see.  So,  with  Sir  W.  Penn  to  Captain  Cockes,  and  thence 
again  toward  Westminster ;  but  in  my  way  stopped  at  the 
Exchange,  and  got  in,  the  King  being  newly  gone,  and  there 
find  the  bottom  of  the  first  pillar  laid  ;  that  on  the  west  side 
of  the  north  entrance  ;  and  here  was  a^shed  set  up,  and  hung 
with  tapestry,  and  a  canopy  of  state,  and  some  good  victuals 
and  wine  for  the  King."  The  Exchange  was  finally  com- 


THE  EOYAL  EXCHANGE.  359 

pleted,  and  opened  for  the  purposes  of  business,  on  the  28th 
of  September,  1669. 

In  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne,  the  bazaar  in  the  Royal  Ex- 
change was  still  a  tempting  and  fashionable  lounging-place. 
Sir  Richard  Steele,  for  instance,  in  a  paper  in  the  "  Spec- 
tator "  (No.  454),  writes — "  It  was  not  the  least  of  my  satis- 
faction in  my  survey,  to  go  up  stairs,  and  pass  the  shops  of 
agreeable  females.  To  observe  so  many  pretty  hands  busy 
in  the  folding  of  ribbons,  and  the  utmost  eagerness  of  agree- 
able faces  in  the  sale  of  patches,  pins,  and  wires  on  each  side 
of  the  counters,  was  an  amusement  in  which  I  could  longer 
have  indulged  myself,  had  not  the  dear  creatures  called  to 
me  to  ask  what  I  wanted,  when  I  could  not  answer, '  only 
to  look  at  you.' " 

To  the  graceful  pen  of  Addison  we  are  indebted  for  a  still 
more  interesting  notice  of  the  Royal  Exchange  at  this 
period.  "  There  is  no  place  in  the  town,"  he  writes,  "  which 
I  so  much  love  to  frequent  as  the  Royal  Exchange.  It  gives 
me  a  secret  satisfaction  and  in  some  measure  gratifies  my 
vanity,  as  I  am  an  Englishman,  to  see  so  rich  an  assembly  of 
countrymen  and  foreigners  consulting  together  upon  the  pri- 
vate business  of  mankind,  and  making  this  metropolis  a  kind 
of  emporium  for  the  whole  earth.  I  must  confess  I  look  upon 
high-'change  to  be  a  great  council,  in  which  all  considerable 
nations  have  their  representatives.  Factors  in  the  trading 
world  are  what  ambassadors  are  in  the  politic  world ;  they 
negotiate  affairs,  conclude  treaties,  and  maintain  a  good  cor- 
respondence between  those  wealthy  societies  of  men  that  are 
divided  from  one  another  by  seas  and  oceans,  or  live  on  the 
different  extremities  of  a  continent.  I  have  often  been 
pleased  to  hear  disputes  adjusted  between  an  inhabitant  of 
Japan  and  an  alderman  of  London  \  or  to  see  a  subject  of  the 
Great  Mogul  entering  into  a  league  with  one  of  the  Czar  of 


360  CHANGE  ALLEY. 


Muscovy.  I  am  infinitely  delighted  in  mixing  with  these 
several  ministers  of  commerce,  as  they  are  distinguished  by 
their  different  walks  and  different  languages.  Sometimes  I 
am  jostled  among  a  body  of  Armenians ;  sometimes  I  am 
lost  in  a  crowd  of  Jews ;  and  sometimes  make  one  in  a  group 
of  Dutchmen.  I  am  a  Dane,  Swede,  or  Frenchman,  at  dif- 
ferent times  ;  or  rather  fancy  myself  like  the  old  philosopher, 
who,  upon  being  asked  what  countryman  he  was,  replied 
that  he  was  a  citizen  of  the  world."* 

.  It  was  not  long  after  Addison  wrote  that  the  glory  of  the 
once  fashionable  "  Pawn,"  or  bazaar,  in  the  Koyal  Exchange, 
began  to  decline,  and  before  thirty  years  had  elapsed  it  had 
passed  away  for  ever.  Maitland,  writing  in  1739,  speaks  of 
it  as  having  been  "of  late  stored  with  the  richest  and 
choicest  sorts  of  merchandize;  but  the  same  being  now 
forsaken,  it  appears  like  a  wilderness."  The  Exchange  was 
again  burnt  clown  on  the  night  of  the  10th  of  January, 
1838.f 

The  present  Eoyal  Exchange  was  built  after  designs  of 
William  Tite,  and  was  opened  by  her  present  Majesty  in 
person,  28th  of  October,  1844.  The  pediment  is  the  work 
of  R.  Westmacott,  R.A.  The  cost  of  the  edifice  is  said  to 
have  been  £180,000. 

In  Change  Alley  stood  Jonathan's  Coffee  House,  mentioned 
in  the  "  Tatler  "  (No.  38)  as  "  the  general  mart  for  stock 
jobbers,"  and  where  Mrs.  Centlivre  has  laid  a  scene  in 
"  A  Bold  Stroke  for  a  Wife."  In  Freeman's  Court,  then  at 
the  east  end  of  the  Royal  Exchange,  Daniel  Defoe  carried 
on  for  many  years  the  business  of  an  hosefactor. 

*  "Spectator,"  No.  69. 

t  See  Knight's  "London,"  vol.  ii.  p.  281,  to  ^which  valuable  work  the 
author  is  indebted  for  many  particulars  in  the  foregoing  account  of  the  old 
Exchange. 


THREADNEEDLE  STREET.  361 

Cornhill  leads  us  into  Threadneedle,  or,  as  Stow  calls  it, 
Three-needle  Street.  At  a  later  period  we  find  it  called 
Thridneedle  Street ;  at  least,  so  the  learned  divine  Samuel 
Clarke  styles  it,  in  writing  from  his  study  in  Threadneedle 
Street.  In  this  street  the  great  Sir  Thomas  More  was  edu- 
cated under  a  schoolmaster  of  high  reputation  previously  to 
his  being  removed  into  the  family  of  Cardinal  Morton, 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  subsequently  to  Christ- 
church  College,  Oxford.*  Here  also  resided  the  grandfather 
and  father  of  Sir  Philip  Sydney. 

On  the  south  side  of  Threadneedle  Street  stood  till  re- 
cently the  ancient  church  of  St.  Benedict,  vulgarly  called 
St.  Benet  Fink.  It  was  rebuilt  by  one  Robert  Finck,  or 
Finch,  from  whom  it  derives  its  name,  as  does  also  Finch 
Lane,  in  which  he  resided.  Having  been  destroyed  by  the 
great  fire,  the  church  was  shortly  afterwards  rebuilt  from 
designs  by  Sir  Christopher  Wren.  It  continued  standing 
till  the  year  1846,  when  it  was  demolished,  in  order  to  make 
room  for  the  improvements  connected  with  the  erection  of 
the  New  Royal  Exchange.  The  materials  were  sold  by 
auction,  and  the  funeral  monuments  removed  to  the  church 
of  St.  Peter-le-Poor,  with  which  parish  St.  Benet  Fink  is 
now  united.  It  appears  by  the  parish  registers  that  the 
marriage  of  the  celebrated  nonconformist,  Richard  Baxter, 
with  Margaret  Charlton,  took  place  here  on  the  10th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1662.f  Here  also  was  interred,  in  1723,  Mrs.  Man- 


*  Sir  Thomas  More  was  educated  at  the  Hospital  or  Free  School  of  St. 
Anthony,  Threadneedle  Street.  The  hospital  was  suppressed  in  the  reign 
of  Edward  the  Sixth,  but  the  school,  though  "sore  decayed,"  still  existed 
in  the  time  of  Stow.  It  stood  on  the  site  of  the  present  Hall  of  Commerce. 
Archbishop  Whitgift  was  also  educated  here.  Stow,  pp.  69  and  183. — 
Cunningham's  "London,"  Art.  St.  Anthony. 

t  Cunningham's  "London,"  Art.  St.  Benet  Fink. 


362  BANK  OF  ENGLAND. 

ley,  well  known  from  her  remarkable  personal  history,  and 
as  the  authoress  of  "  The  New  Atalantis." 

Another  church  in  this  neighbourhood,  which  was  de- 
molished under  the  same  circumstances,  was  that  of  St. 
Bartholomew  by  the  Exchange,  rebuilt  in  1438,  and  again, 
after  designs  by  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  in  1679.  Here  were 
interred  the  remains  of  Miles  Coverdale,  Bishop  of  Exeter, 
who  assisted  Tyndale  in  the  first  English  translation  of  the 
Bible.  On  the  demolition  of  the  church,  his  remains  were 
removed  to  that  of  St.  Magnus,  London  Bridge,  of  which  he 
was  for  two  years  the  rector. 

In  Threadneedle  Street,  nearly  opposite  to  Finch  Lane,, 
stood  the  ancient  Hospital,  or  Priory,  of  St.  Anthony  of 
Vienna,  in  the  brethren  of  which,  till  1474,  the  patronage 
of  St.  Benet's  Church  was  vested.  In  this  street  also  stands, 
the  Bank  of  England,  which  was  established  on  this  spot  in 
1734,  previously  to  which  period  the  business  was  transacted 
in  Grocers'  Hall.  To  make  room  for  part  of  the  present 
buildings,  the  old  but  uninteresting  church  of  St.  Christo- 
pher— founded  in  1462,  and  one  of  the  few  which  escaped 
the  fire  of  London — was  taken  down  in  1781. 

During  the  Gordon  riots  in  1780,  a  bold  attempt  was 
made  to  sack  the  Bank  of  England,  but  in  the  words  of 
Pennant,  it  was  "  saved  from  the  fury  of  an  infamous  mob 
by  the  virtue  of  the  citizens,  who  formed  suddenly  a  volun- 
teer company,  and  overawed  the  miscreants,  while  the  chief 
magistrate  skulked  trembling  in  his  Mansion-house,  and  left 
his  important  charge  to  its  fate."  Here,  and  on  Blackfriars 
Bridge,  the  principal  conflict  and  slaughter  took  place  on 
the  last  day  of  the  riots.  "The  carnage,"  says  Wraxall, 
"  which  took  place  at  the  Bank  was  great,  though  not  of 
very  long  duration ;  and  in  order  to  conceal,  as  much  as 
possible  the  magnitude  of  the  number,  as  well  as  the 


GORDON  EIOTS.  363 


names  of  the  persons  who  perished,  similar  precautions 
were  taken  on  both  sides.  All  the  dead  bodies,  being  car- 
ried away  during  the  night,  were  precipitated  into  the  river. 
Even  the  impressions  made  by  the  musket  balls,  on  the 
houses  opposite  to  the  Bank,  were  as  much  as  possible 
erased  on  the  following  morning,  and  the  buildings  white- 
washed. Government  and  the  rioters  seem  to  have  felt  an 
equal  disposition,  by  drawing  a  veil  over  the  extent  of  the 
calamity,  to  bury  it  in  profound  darkness.  To  Colonel 
Holroyd,  since  deservedly  raised  to  the  British  Peerage 
as  Lord  Sheffield,  and  to  his  Regiment  of  Militia,  the 
country  was  eminently  indebted  for  repelling  the  fury  of 
the  mob  at  the  Bank,  where,  during  some  moments,  the 
conflict  seemed  doubtful,  and  the  assailants  had  nearly  forced 
an  entrance." 

"  I  was  told,"  continues  Wraxall,  "  by  the  late  Lord  Rod- 
ney, who  was  then  an  officer  in  the  Guards,  that  having 
been  sent  on  the  night  of  the  7th  of  June,  to  the  defence  of 
the  Bank  of  England,  at  the  head  of  a  detachment  of  his. 
regiment,  he  there  found  Lord  George  Gordon,  who  appeared 
anxiously  endeavouring,  by  expostulation,  to  induce  the 
populace  to  retire.  As  soon  as  Lord  George  saw  Captain 
Rodney,  he  strongly  expressed  his  concern  at  the  acts  of 
violence  committed ;  adding  that  he  was  ready  to  take  his 
stand  by  Captain  Rodney's  side,  and  to  expose  his  person  to 
the  utmost  risk,  in  order  to  resist  such  proceedings.  Rod- 
ney, however,  who  distrusted  his  sincerity,  and  justly  con- 
sidered him  as  the  original  cause  of  all  the  calamities, 
declined  any  communication  with  him ;  only  exhorting  him, 
if  he  wished  to  stop  the  further  effusion  of  blood,  and  to 
prevent  the  destruction  of  the  Bank,  to  exert  himself  in 
dispersing  the  furious  crowd ;  but,  whatever  might  be  his 
inclination,  he  was  altogether  destitute  of  the  power." 


364  MERCHANT  TA  YLORS'  HALL. 

At  the  east  end  of  Threadneedle  Street,  on  the  south  side, 
stands  the  hall  of  the  Merchant  Taylors.  This  wealthy  com- 
panyT  though  not  the  first  in  point  of  precedence,  is  said  to 
number  more  royal  and  noble  personages  among  its  mem- 
bers than  any  other  of  the  City  Companies.  From  the  occu- 
pation which  they  carried  on  here,  Threadneedle  Street  de- 
rives its  name.  They  were  originally  incorporated  in  1466 
with  the  designation  of  "Taylors  and  Linen-armourers." 
This  name  they  retained  till  1503,  when  Henry  the 
Seventh,  himself  a  member  of  the  Company,  re-incorpo- 
rated them  under  their  present  title  of  "  Merchant  Taylors  " 
of  the  fraternity  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  in  the  City  of 
London. 

Although  not  actually  formed  into  a  corporate  body  till 
the  reign  of  Edward  the  Fourth,  we  find  a  society  of  Mer- 
chant Taylors  existing  as  far  back  as  the  time  of  Henry  the 
Third,  in  which  reign  a  violent  feud  existed  between  them 
and  the  Goldsmiths'  Company.  To  such  lengths  did  it 
proceed,  that  they  at  last  agreed  to  meet  at  night  com- 
pletely armed  to  the  number  of  five  hundred  men,  and 
to  settle  their  disputes  with  the  sword.  Accordingly  an 
encounter  took  place  in  the  dead  of  night,  in  which  many 
were  killed  and  wounded  on  both  sides,  nor  did  they  sepa- 
rate till  the  sheriffs,  with  a  large  body  of  citizens,  arrived  on 
the  spot  and  apprehended  the  ringleaders,  thirteen  of  whom 
were  subsequently  condemned  and  executed.  The  present 
Merchant  Taylors'  Hall  was  rebuilt  after  the  fire  of  London, 
and  contains  a  few  historical  portraits  of  some  merit. 

Dependent  on  the  Merchant  Taylors'  Company  is  the  cele- 
brated School  which  bears  their  name.  It  was  founded  by 
the  Company  in  1561,  on  a  spot  of  ground  on  the  east  side 
of  Suffolk  Lane,  Thames  Street,  formerly  called  the  "  Manor 
of  the  Rose,"  the  property  of  the  Dukes  of  Buckingham. 


THROGMORTON  STREET.  365 

Several  eminent  men  have  received  their  education  at  this 
school,  among  whom  may  be  mentioned  James  Shirley  the 
dramatic  poet,  Bulstrode  Whitelocke  the  author  of  the  "  Me- 
morials of  English  Affairs,"  Edmund  Calamy  the  nonconfor- 
mist, and  the  great  Lord  Olive. 

In  Threadneedle  Street  was  the  South-Sea  House,  celebrated 
in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century  for  one  of  the  most 
iniquitous  bubbles  in  the  annals  of  roguery.  The  Company 
was  established  by  Act  of  Parliament  in  1711,  under  the 
title  of  "  The  Company  of  Merchants  of  Great  Britain  trading 
to  the  South  Seas  and  other  parts  of  America,  and  for  encou- 
raging the  Fishery."  Jheir  ostensible  object  was  the  mono- 
poly of  the  trade  to  the  South  Seas,  and  the  supplying 
Spanish  America  with  negroes.  The  building  is  now  divided 
into  suites  of  chambers. 

From  Threadneedle  Street  let  us  pass  into  Throgmorton 
Street,  which  not  improbably  derives  its  designation  from 
the  family  name  of  the  accomplished  Sir  Nicholas  Throck- 
morton,  who,  from  the  circumstance  of  his  having  been 
buried  in  the  neighbouring  church  of  St.  Catherine  Cree, 
very  possibly  resided  in  this  vicinity.  On  the  north  side  of 
Throgmorton  Street  stood,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth, 
a  magnificent  mansion  erected  by  the  ill-fated  Thomas  Crom- 
well, Earl  of  Essex.  In  carrying  out  his  favourite  project  of 
enlarging  and  beautifying  his  new  domain,  the  great  minister 
showed  a  disregard  for  the  rights  and  comforts  of  his  fellow- 
citizens,  which  is  curiously  illustrative  of  the  arbitrary 
power  of  a  royal  favourite  under  the  rule  of  the  Tudors, 
"  This  house  being  finished,"  says  Stow,  "  and  having  some 
reasonable  plot  of  ground  left  for  a  garden,  he  (Cromwell) 
caused  the  pales  of  the  gardens  adjoining  to  the  north  part 
thereof  on  a  sudden  to  be  taken  down — twenty-two  feet  to 
be  measured  forth  right  into  the  north  of  every  man's 


366  LOTH  BURY. 


ground — a  line  there  to  be  drawn — a  trench  to  be  cast — a 
foundation  laid — and  a  high  brick  wall  to  be  built.  My 
father  had  a  garden  there,  and  a  house  standing  close  to  his 
south  pale.  This  house  they  loosed  from  the  ground,  and 
bare  upon  rollers  into  my  father's  garden  twenty-two  feet, 
ere  my  father  heard  thereof.  No  warning  was  given  him, 
nor  other  answer  when  he  spake  to  the  surveyors  of  that 
work,  but  that  their  master,  Sir  Thomas,  commanded  them 
so  to  do.  No  man  durst  go  to  argue  the  matter,  but  each 
man  lost  his  land  ;  and  my  father  paid  his  whole  rent,  which 
was  six  shillings  and  eightpence  the  year,  for  that  half  which 
was  left." 

After  the  fall  of  Cromwell  his  mansion  and  gardens  were 
purchased  of  the  Crown  by  the  Drapers'  Company,  whose 
Hall  now  occupies  their  site.  It  was  from  this  company 
that  the  first  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  Henry  Fitz-alwyn,  was 
elected.  In  their  hall  is  a  large  and  interesting  picture,  as- 
cribed to  Zuchero,  said  to  represent  Mary  Queen  of  Scots 
and  her  son,  afterwards  James  the  First.  As  the  unfortunate 
Queen,  however,  never  beheld  her  child  after  he  was  a 
twelvemonth  old,  the  portrait,  of  course,  could  not  have 
been  drawn  from  the  life. 

Lothbury,  a  continuation  of  Throgmorton  Street,  was. 
according  to  Stow,  anciently  called  Lathberie  or  Loadberie, 
probably  from  the  name  of  some  person  who  kept  a  court  or 
berry  here.  "  This  street,"  says  Stow,  "  is  possessed  for  the 
most  part  by  founders,  that  cast  candlesticks,  chafing-dishes, 
spice-mortars,  and  such  like  copper  or  laton  works,  and  do 
afterwards  turn  them  with  the  foot,  and  not  with  the  wheel, 
to  make  them  smooth  and  bright  with  turning  and  scrating 
(as  some  do  term  it),  making  a  lothsome  noise  to  the  by- 
.passers  that  have  not  been  used  to  the  like,  and  therefore  by 
them  disdainfully  called  Loth-berie." 


THE  PLAGUE  IN  LOTHBURY.  367 

"  This  night  I  '11  change 
All  that  is  metal,  in  my  house,  to  gold  : 
And  early  in  the  morning  will  I  send 
To  all  the  plumbers  and  the  pewterers, 
To  buy  their  tin  and  lead  up  ;  and  to  Lothbury 
For  all  the  copper." — BEN  JONSON  :  The  Alchemist. 

This  street,  as  well  as  the  narrow  and  populous  thorough- 
fares adjoining  it,  appear  to  have  suffered  dreadfully  during 
'the  visitation  of  tKe  great  plague.  "  In  my  walks,"  writes 
Defoe,  "  I  had  many  dismal  scenes  before  my  eyes,  as  parti- 
cularly of  persons  falling  dead  in  the  streets,  terrible  shrieks 
and  screechings  of  women,  who  in  their  agonies  would  throw 
open  their  chamber-windows,  and  cry  out  in  a  dismal  sur- 
prising manner.  Passing  through  Tokenhouse-yard  in 
Lothbury,  of  a  sudden  a  casement  violently  opened  just  over 
my  head,  and  a  woman  gave  three  frightful  screeches,  and 
then  cried  '  Oh  death,  death,  death  ! '  in  a  most  inimitable 
tone,  and  which  struck  me  with  horror,  and  a  dullness  in  my 
very  blood.  There  was  nobody  to  be  seen  in  the  whole 
street,  neither  did  any  other  window  open,  for  people  had  no 
curiosity  now  in  any  case,  nor  could  anybody  help  one 
another.  Just  in  Bell  Alley,  on  the  right  hand  of  the  pas- 
sage, there  was  a  more  terrible  cry  than  that,  though  it  was 
not  so  directed  out  at  the  window ;  but  the  whole  family 
was  in  a  terrible  fright,  and  I  could  hear  women  and  children 
run  screaming  about  the  rooms  like  distracted  ;  when  a  garret 
window  opened,  and  somebody  from  a  window  on  the  other 
side  the  alley  called  and  asked,  '  What  is  the  matter  ?'  upon 
which,  from  the  first  window  it  was  answered,  '  O  Lord !  my 
old  master  has  hanged  himself.'  The  other  asked  again, '  Is 
he  quite  dead  ?'  and  the  first  answered,  '  Ay,  ay,  quite  dead 
and  cold!'  This  person  was  a  merchant,  and  a  deputy - 
alderman,  and  very  rich.  But  this  is  but  one.  It  is  scarce 
credible  what  dreadful  cases  happened  in  particular  families 


368  TOKENED  USE  YARD. 

every  day.  People,  in  the  rage  of  the  distemper,  or  in  the- 
torment  of  their  swellings,  which  was  indeed  intolerable, 
running  out  of  their  own  government,  raving  and  distracted, 
oftentimes  laid  violent  hands  upon  themselves,  throwing 
themselves  out  at  their  windows,  shooting  themselves,  &c. ; 
mothers  murdering  their  own  children  in  their  lunacy ;  some 
dying  of  mere  grief,  as  a  passion ;  some  of  mere  fright  and 
surprise,  without  any  infection  at  all ;  others  frighted  into 
idiotism  and  foolish  distractions,  some  into  despair  and 
lunacy ;  others  into  melancholy  madness." 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  we  find  a  conduit 
erected  in  Lothbury,  which  was  supplied  with  water  from 
"  the  spring  of  Dame  Anne's  the  Clear,"  at  Hoxton,  but  no 
trace  of  it  now  exists. 

Tokenhouse  Yard,  Lothbury,  was  built  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  First,  on  the  site  of  the  princely  mansion  of 
Thomas,  twentieth  Earl  of  Arundel,  the  collector  of  the 
famous  Arundel  marbles.  He  subsequently  removed  to  a 
suburban  mansion  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  of  which 
Arundel  Street  in  the  Strand  points  out  the  site. 


OLD     JEWRY,     ST.  LAWRENCE    CHURCH, 
MANSION  HOUSE,  LONDON  STONE,  &c. 

OLD  JEWRY,  THE  ORIGINAL  BURIAL  PLACE  OF  THE  JEWS. — EXPULSION  OF 
THE  JEWS. — DR.  LAMBE  AND  THE  DUKE  OF  BUCKINGHAM. — ST.  OLAVE'S 
CHURCH. — ST.  LAWRENCE  JEWRY.— ST.  THOMAS  OF  ACON. — GILBERT  A 
BECKET. — MERCERS'  COMPANY. — THE  POULTRY. — MANSION  HOUSE. — STOCKS 
MARKET. — SIR  JOHN  CUTLER. — BUCKLERSBURY. — INDIAN  HOUSES. — ST. 
STEPHEN'S  WALBROOK.  —  LONDON  STONE.  —  PRIOR  OF  TORTINGTON'S 
"INNE." 

TO  the  west  of  Lothbury  is  the  Old  Jewry,  so  intimately 
associated  with  the  persecution  of  the  Jews  in 
England  during  the  reign  of  our  Norman  sovereigns. 
Previously  to  the  reign  of  Henry  the  First,  the  only  burial- 
place  which  the  bigotry  of  our  ancestors  permitted  to  the 
Jews  in  England  was  in  London,  whither,  in  the  words  of 
Holinshed,  they  were  "  constrained  to  bring  all  their  dead 
corpses  from  all  parts  of  the  realm."  It  was  not  till  the 
year  1117,  that  they  "obtained  from  King  Henry  a  grant  to 
have  a  place  assigned  them,  in  every  quarter  where  they 
dwelled,  to  bury  their  dead  bodies."*  In  the  Old  Jewry 
was  their  great  synagogue,  and  in  this  quarter  they  con- 
tinued to  increase  and  multiply  till  1283,  when  John  Perk- 
ham,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  commanded  the  Bishop  of 
London  to  destroy  all  the  Jews'  synagogues  in  the  metro- 
polis. Seven  years  afterwards,  Edward  the  First,  on  his 
return  from  France,  issued  his  famous  edict  which  drove  the 

*  Holinshed's  "  Chronicles,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  175. 
VOL.  II.  24 


370  OLD  JEWRY. 


Jews  from  the  kingdom.  The  number  thus  expelled  is  said 
to  have  been  fifteen  thousand  and  sixty.  Whether  right- 
fully or  wrongfully,  they  were  accused,  not  only  of  having 
practised  usury  to  a  ruinous  extent,  but  also  of  having 
adulterated  the  coin  of  the  realm.  Suddenly,  then,  their 
persons  were  seized  in  every  part  of  England ;  their  pro- 
perty was  confiscated,  and  a  moiety  of  it  only  bestowed  on 
those  who  consented  to  embrace  Christianity.  To  the 
honour  of  the  Jews  be  it  spoken,  that,  notwithstanding  the 
temptation  of  retaining  possession  of  their  darling  gold,  only 
a  few  were  to  be  found  who  consented  to  purchase  their 
lives,  and  all  that  makes  life  palatable,  at  the  expense  of 
their  conscience.  Two  hundred  and  eighty  were  hanged  in 
London  alone.  The  remainder,  after  having  been  stripped 
of  their  possessions,  were  driven  forth  to  seek  asylums  in 
other  countries.  It  was  not  till  the  seventeenth  century 
that  the  Jews  again  appeared  in  any  numbers  in  England. 

The  "  Jewerie,"  as  it  was  styled,  appears  to  have  extended 
along  both  sides  of  what  is  now  Gresham  Street,  from 
St.  Lawrence  Lane  and  the  church  of  St.  Lawrence  on  the 
west,  to  Basinghall  Street  and  the  Old  Jewry  on  the  east, 
and  southward  between  the  Old  Jewry  and  Ironmonger 
Lane  as  far  as  Church  Court.  The  detestation  in  which,  in 
the  olden  time,  the  Jews  were  held  by  the  common  people 
of  England,  led  to  more  than  one  furious  attack  on  their 
colony  in  the  "  Jewerie."  In  1262,  a  quarrel  having  taken 
place  in  one  of  the  neighbouring  churches  between  a  Chris- 
tian and  a  Jew,  in  which  the  Christian  was  mortally  wounded, 
the  Jew  flew  for  refuge  to  his  own  people,  but,  having  been 
overtaken  by  the  neighbours  of  the  deceased,  was  summarily 
put  to  death.  Not  satisfied,  however,  with  this  act  of 
revenge,  the  infuriated  mob  poured  into  the  "  Jewerie,"  and 
indiscriminately  pillaged  and  slew  every  Jew  whom  they 
\ 


DR.  LAMBE.  371 


met.  In  1264,  a  Jew  having  been  convicted  of  exacting 
usurious  interest  from  a  Christian,  another  irruption  took 
place  into  their  colony,  when  their  synagogue  and  other 
valuable  property  were  destroyed. 

But  the  Old  Jewry  has  other  interesting  associations 
besides  its  connection  with  the  Jews.  Here,  in  the  fifteenth 
century,  the  unfortunate  Henry  the  Sixth  had  a  mansion, 
which  he  styled  his  "  principal  palace  in  the  Old  Jewry." 
It  was  a  large  stone  building,  commonly  called  the  Old 
Wardrobe,  and  when  Stow  wrote  had  only  recently  been 
demolished. 

Tradition  informs  us  that  at  the  corner  of  Old  Jewry  and 
Cheapside  stood  the  house  in  which  Thomas  a  Becket  first 
saw  the  light.  Here  too  it  was  that  the  infamous  Dr. 
Lambe  was  beaten  and  trampled  to  death  by  an  exasperated 
mob.  This  aged  and  disreputable  mountebank,  who  united 
in  his  own  person  the  professions  of  a  physician,  a  caster  of 
nativities,  and  a  fortune-teller,  had  been  guilty  of  a  long 
catalogue  of  crimes.  In  1607,  he  had  been  found  guilty  of 
sorcery  and  witchcraft,  practised  on  the  body  of  Thomas 
Lord  Windsor,  and,  agreeably  with  the  terms  of  his  sentence, 
was  undergoing  imprisonment  in  the  King's  Bench  Prison, 
when  he  committed  a  still  more  serious  offence,  in  which  a 
little  girl  of  eleven  years  of  age  was  his  victim.  For  this 
latter  crime  he  was  sentenced  to  death,  but  in  consequence 
of  his  possessing  some  secret  and  powerful  influence  at 
court,  which  the  world  attributed  to  the  unpopular  favourite, 
the  first  George  Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  he  obtained  a 
pardon.  His  death  took  place  in  the  manner  we  have  stated, 
on  the  13th  of  June,  1628.  Not  that  the  mob  troubled 
themselves  much  about  his  vices  or  his  crimes :  his  chief 
offence  in  their  eyes  being  his  connection  with  the  detested 
Buckingham.  Yet,  though  men  spoke  of  him  as  the  "  Duke's 

24—2 


372  ST.  OLAVE'S  OLD  JEWRY. 

devil,"  it  may  be  questioned  whether  Buckingham  ever  even. 
set  his  eyes  on  the  wretched  mountebank.  Carte,  for 
instance,  affirms  that  they  never  met,  and  Carte's  assertion 
is  in  a  great  degree  borne  out  by  a  fact  which  not  long  since 
came  to  light,  that  Lambe  was  at  one  time  actually  engaged 
in  a  conspiracy  against  the  Duke's  life.*  At  all  events 
Lambe  owed  his  fearful  death  to  the  current  belief  of  his 
intimacy  with  Buckingham.  Almost  at  the  last  gasp,  he 
was  rescued  by  the  authorities  from  the  hands  of  the  infu- 
riated populace  and  carried  into  the  adjoining  Compter  in 
the  Poultry,  but  he  survived  only  till  the  following  day.  It 
was  certainly  a  remarkable  coincidence,  as  noticed  by  Lord 
Clarendon  among  other  "  predictions  and  prophecies,"  that 
Dr.  Lambe  should  have  correctly  foretold  both  the  time  of 
his  own  death,  and  that  of  Buckingham.  It  was  another 
striking  coincidence,  that  on  the  day  on  which  Lambe  was 
torn  to  pieces  by  the  mob,  Buckingham's  picture  fell  down 
in  the  High  Commission  Chamber  at  Lambeth ;  an  incident, 
which,  in  a  superstitious  age,  was  eagerly  hailed  as  a  prog- 
nostic of  his  fall. 

On  the  west  side  of  the  Old  Jewry  stands  St.  Olave's 
Church,  another  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren's  structures  erected 
shortly  after  the  destruction  of  the  old  church  by  the  fire 
of  London.  Stow  records  the  names  of  several  persons  who 
were  buried  in  this  church  between  the  fourteenth  and  six- 
teenth centuries,  but  whose  monuments  no  longer  exist. 
Among  them  maybe  mentioned  a  monument  to  Giles  Dewes, 
servant  to  Henry  the  Seventh  and  Henry  the  Eighth,  who 
died  in  1535.  His  epitaph  recorded  that  he  was  "clerk  of 
their  libraries,  and  schoolmaster  for  the  French  tongue  "  to 
Arthur  Prince  of  Wales  and  his  sister  Mary,  afterwards 
Queen  of  France.  Robert  Large,  mercer  and  citizen,  the 
*  See  Bishop  Goodman's  "Memoirs,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  377. 


ST.  LAWRENCE  JEWRY.  373 

master  of  Caxton,  was  also  buried  in  this  church.  The  only 
monument  of  any  interest  which  is  now  to  be  seen  in  the 
church,  is  that  of  Alderman  Boydell  the  eminent  engraver. 

On  the  east  side  of  the  Old  Jewry  stood,  in  the  reign  of 
•Charles  the  Second,  the  magnificent  mansion  of  Sir  Robert 
Clayton. 

Dr.  James  Foster,  whose  name  has  been  immortalized  by 
Pope,  was  for  many  years  a  preacher  in  the  Old  Jewry  : — 

"  Let  modest  Foster,  if  he  will,  excel 
Ten  Metropolitans  in  preaching  well." 

Professor  Person  died  in  the  Old  Jewry  in  1808,  in  the 
apartments  which  he  occupied  as  Librarian  of  the  London 
Institution. 

Close  to  the  Old  Jewry  is  the  church  of  St.  Lawrence 
Jewry,  dedicated  to  St.  Lawrence,  who,,  during  the  persecu- 
tion of  the  Emperor  Diocletian,  is  said  to  have  suffered  mar- 
tyrdom by  being  extended  on  a  gridiron  and  burnt  to  death. 
The  church,  notwithstanding  its  simplicity  of  style,  is  allowed 
to  be  one  of  the  chastest  and  most  beautiful  of  Wren's  struc- 
tures.    It  appears  to  have  been  originally  founded  about  the 
year  1293,  shortly  after  the  expulsion  of  the  Jews  from  this 
district.     The  old  church  having  been  destroyed  by  the  fire 
of  London,  the  present  building  was  erected  in  1671.     The 
fa9ade,  at  the  east  end  in  King  Street,  has  been  greatly 
admired.      The  appearance    of    the  interior,  also,  with  its 
Corinthian  columns,  its  decorated    ceiling,  and    its  finely 
ornamented  doorways  and  pulpit  of  polished  oak,  is  extremely 
rich   and  pleasing.     The  vestry  is  perhaps  the  handsomest 
in    London.      The    ceiling,  containing    a    painting    by  Sir 
James  Thornhill,  representing  St.  Lawrence  being  received 
into  heaven  after  his  martyrdom,  is  richly  stuccoed,  and  the 
walls  are  completely  panelled  with  fine  old  oak. 


374  ST.  LAWRENCE  JEWRY. 

In  this  church  lies  buried  Thomas  Boleyn,  Earl  of  Wilt- 
shire, the  father  of  Anne  Boleyn.  He  survived  her  death, 
and  that  of  his  only  son,  George  Lord  Rochford,  only  two 
years.  Here,  too,  according  to  Weever,  was  interred  Sir 
Geoffrey  Boleyn,  the  great-grandfather  of  the  unfortunate 
Queen,  and  the  founder  of  the  fortunes  of  the  Boleyn  family. 
He  was  a  wealthy  mercer  of  the  city  of  London ;  filled  the 
Lord  Mayor's  chair  in  1458,  and  about  the  same  time  married 
Anne,  daughter  of  Thomas  Lord  Hoo  and  Hastings. 

The  most  interesting  monument  in  the  church  is  that  to 
the  memory  of  the  amiable  and  distinguished  divine,  Arch- 
bishop Tillotson,  many  of  whose  admirable  sermons  were 
delivered  in  this  church.  His  epitaph  is  sufficiently  brief. 

"P.  M. 

"  Reverendissimi  et  Sanctissimi  praesulis,  Johannis  Tillotson,  Archiepis- 
copi  Cantnariensis,  Concionatoris  olim  hac  in  Ecclesia  per  annos  30  celeber- 
rimi  ;  qui  obiit  10  Kal.  Dec.  1694.  ./Etat.  64. 

"  Hoc  posuit  Elizabetha  conjux  illius  mcestissima." 

Tillotson  was  both  married  and  buried  in  this  church. 
Bishop  Burnet  on  the  latter  occasion  preached  his  funeral 
sermon. 

Another  eminent  prelate  buried  in  this  church,  was 
Wilkins,  Bishop  of  Chester,  who  held  the  living  of  St. 
Lawrence  at  the  time  when  Tillotson  was  Tuesday  Lecturer 
in  the  church.  One  other  epitaph,  recording  the  early  death  of 
William  Bird,  who  died  on  the  2nd  of  October,  1698,  in  his 
fifth  year,  may  be  transcribed  on  account  of  its  quaintness. 

"  One  charming  bird  to  Paradise  is  flown  : 

Yet  are  we  not  of  comfort  quite  bereft, 
Since  one  of  this  fair  brood  is  still  our  own, 

And  still  to  cheer  our  drooping  soul  is  left. 
This  stays  with  us,  whilst  that  its  flight  doth  take, 
That  earth  and  skies  may  one  sweet  concert  make." 

The  other  Bird  was  his  young  sister,  Mary,   to   whose 


ST.  THOMAS  OF  AC  OK  375 

memory  there  is  a  monumental  effigy  of  the  size  of  life,  with 
two  Cupids  hovering  over  her  head  and  two  weeping  at  her 
feet.  Her  death  took  place  in  her  fourteenth  year. 

Between  the  Old  Jewry  and  Ironmonger  Lane,  where  now 
stands  the  Hall  of  the  Mercers'  Company,  formerly  stood  the 
ancient  hospital  of  St.  Thomas  of  Aeon,  founded  in  the  reign 
of  Henry  the  Second  by  Thomas  Fitz-Theobald  de  Helles 
and  his  wife  Agnes,  sister  to  Thomas  a  Becket,  whom  we 
have  already  mentioned  as  having  been  born  near  here. 
The  hospital  was  built  twenty  years  after  his  murder,  and 
dedicated  to  him  in  conjunction  with  the  blessed  Virgin. 

The  fact  of  Gilbert  a  Becket,  the  father  of  the  haughty 
prelate,  having  resided  near  this  spot  appears  to  be  beyond 
question ;  indeed,  here  occurred  that  romantic  incident  in 
the  father's  life  which  our  old  chroniclers  have  delighted  to 
record.  While  in  the  Holy  Land  he  had  won  the  affections 
of  Matilda,  a  fair  Saracen,  to  whom  he  subsequently  owed 
his  release  from  captivity.  Having  bidden  her  farewell,  he 
returned  to  his  native  land,  whither,  however,  the  maiden 
determined  on  following  him.  With  love  only  for  her 
beacon,  and  with  only  two  English  watchwords — "  London 
and  Gilbert " — she  succeeded  in  making  her  way  from  the 
far  East,  and  at  length  reached  "  the  Mercery,"  where  she 
had  the  satisfaction  of  being  folded  in  the  arms  of  her  be- 
loved Gilbert.  Having  rewarded  her  constancy  and  devotion 
by  making  her  his  wife,  she  in  due  tune  became  the  mother 
of  the  celebrated  prelate  and  martyr,  who  was  occasionally 
styled  Thomas  of  Aeons,  or  Acre,  from  the  presumed  birth- 
place of  his  mother. 

At  the  suppression  of  the  monastic  houses  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  the  Eighth,  the  Hospital  of  St.  Thomas  of  Aeon  came 
into  the  possession  of  the  Mercers'  Company.  Their  hall,  as 
well  as  the  "  fair  and  beautiful  chapel "  of  the  old  hospital, 


376  THE  MERCERS'  COMPANY. 

were  burnt  down  by  the  great  fire  of  1666.  Here  were  for- 
merly to  be  seen  several  ancient  monuments,  among  which 
was  one  to  James  Butler,  Earl  of  Ormond  and  Dame  Joan, 
his  wife,  who  lived  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Sixth. 

The  front  of  Mercers'  Hall  faces  Cheapside.  Although 
this  company  was  not  incorporated  till  1393,  it  appears  that 
at  a  far  earlier  period  the  mercers  congregated  and  exposed 
their  goods  for  sale  at  this  identical  spot,  from  which  cir- 
cumstance it  obtained  the  name  of  "  The  Mercery."  In  Lyd- 
gate's  "  London  Lackpenny"  we  find, — 

"  Then  to  the  Chepe  I  began  me  drawne, 

Where  much  people  I  saw  for  to  stand  ; 
One  offered  me  velvet,  silke,  and  lawne, 
And  another,  he  taketh  me  by  the  hand, 
'Here  is  Paris  thread,  the  finest  in  the  land.'  " 

It  may  be  mentioned,  as  evidence  of  the  opulence  and  high 
position  of  the  Mercers'  Company,  that  not  fewer  than  one 
hundred  Lord  Mayors  have  been  elected  from  their  society. 
"  In  the  year  1536,  on  St.  Peter's  night,"  writes  Stow,  "  King 
Henry  the  Eighth  and  Queen  Jane  his  wife  stood  in  this 
Mercers'  Hall,  then  new  built,  and  beheld  the  marching 
watch  of  this  city,  most  bravely  set  out,  Sir  John  Allen, 
Mercer,  one  of  the  king's  council,  being  Mayor."  On  the 
2nd  September,  1660,  Guy,  the  princely  founder  of  Guy's 
Hospital,  was  bound  apprentice  to  a  bookseller  "  in  the  porch 
of  Mercers'  Chapel." 

Coleman  Street,  a  continuation  of  Old  Jewry,  contains 
nothing  very  remarkable  with  the  exception  of  its  church, 
dedicated  to  St.  Stephen,  one  of  the  most  ancient  foundations 
in  London.  The  old  building,  however,  was  burnt  down  in 
1666,  shortly  after  which  the  present  insignificant  edifice 
was  erected  by  Sir  Christopher  Wren  on  its  site.  The 
former  church  contained  a  variety  of  monuments,  among 


COLEMAN  STREET.  377 

which  was  one  to  the  memory  of  the  indefatigable  old 
antiquary  and  dramatic  writer,  Anthony  Munday,  citizen 
and  draper,  who  died  in  1633,  after  having  for  thirty  years 
contrived  the  scenic  machinery  and  arranged  the  City 
shows  and  pageants. 

Coleman  Street  is  said  to  derive  its  name  from  one  Robert 
Coleman,  who  is  supposed  to  have  been  either  the  owner  of 
the  property  or  the  builder  of  the  street.  In  the  reign  of 
'Charles  the  First  it  appears  to  have  been  much  frequented 
by  the  Puritan  and  Republican  party ;  for  which  reason 
probably  it  was  that  the  "  five  members  "  took  refuge  here 
on  the  memorable  occasion  of  Charles  proceeding  to  the 
House  of  Commons  to  seize  their  persons.  Here  too  it  was, 
at  a  tavern  called  the  "  Star,"  that  Oliver  Cromwell  and  the 
heads  of  the  republican  party  hatched  their  plots  against  the 
State.  Here  resided  the  Puritan  preacher,  John  Goodwin, 
who  proposed  to  Charles  the  First  to  pray  with  him  on  the 
eve  of  his  execution ;  hence,  immediately  after  the  Restora- 
tion, the  Millenarian  Venner  issued  forth  at  the  head  of  his 
fanatic  followers,  to  excite  the  insurrection  which  bears  his 
name,  and  in  this  street  he  was  hanged.  At  No.  14,  Great 
Bell  'Yard,  now  Telegraph  Street,  Bloomfield,  the  poet, 
carried  on  his  trade  as  a  shoemaker. 

To  the  west  of  Coleman  Street  is  Basinghall  Street.  In 
this  stre,et  is  the  unimportant  church  of  St.  Michael's  Bassis- 
haw,  which  derives  its  name  from  the  haugh,  or  hall,  of  the 
Basing  family,  which  anciently  stood  upon  this  spot,  and 
from  whom  the  street  is  also  named.  The  church  was  ori- 
ginally founded  about  the  year  1140,  but  having  been  burnt 
down  in  1G66,  was  re-built  by  Wren  in  1679. 

Retracing  our  steps  down  the  Old  Jewry,  we  arrive  at  the 
Poultry,  so  called  from  its  having  been  principally  tenanted 
in  ancient  times  by  poulterers.  At  the  east  end  of  the 


378  THE  MANSION  HOUSE. 

Poultry  is  the  ponderous-looking  Mansion  House,  built 
after  the  designs  of  George  Dance,  the  City  Surveyor ;  the 
first  stone  having  been  laid  on  the  25th  of  October,  1739. 
The  first  Lord  Mayor  who  inhabited  it  was  Sir  Crisp  Gas- 
coyne,  who  took  up  his  abode  there  in  1753.  It  was  erected 
nearly  in  the  centre  of.  what  was  called  Stocks  Market,  for- 
merly one  of  the  largest  markets  in  London,  and  so  called 
from  a  pair  of  stocks,  in  which  as  early  as  1281,  offenders 
were  exposed  to  punishment.  The  market  was  established 
by  Henry  Wallis,  Lord  Mayor,  in  1282.  In  the  middle  of 
the  market  stood  an  equestrian  statue,  said  to  have  been 
erected  in  honour  of  Charles  the  Second,  by  Sir  Robert 
Viner,  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  in  1675,  the  same  functionary 
with  whom  the  merry  monarch  spent  a  jovial  evening  as  re- 
corded in  the  Spectator.*  According,  however,  to  Granger 
and  Walpole,  the  statue  was  in  fact  that  of  John  Sobieski, 
King  of  Poland,  which  the  Mayor  is  asserted  to  have  dis- 
covered and  purchased  at  a  foundry. 

The  cost  of  the  Mansion  House,  including  the  price  paid 
for  the  houses  which  it  was  found  necessary  to  pull  down,  is 
said  to  have  amounted  to  no  less  than  £71,000 ;  a  great 
additional  expense  having  been  incurred  by  the.  number  of 
springs  discovered  in  laying  the  foundations,  which  rendered 
it  necessary  to  drive  a  vast  number  of  piles  close  together, 
upon  which  piles  the  building  was  raised,  like  the  Stadthouse 
at  Amsterdam. 

On  the  north  side  of  the  Poultry  is  the  hall  of  the  Grocers' 
Company,  standing  on  the  site  of  the  London  residence  of 
the  Barons  Fitzwalter,  from  whom  it  was  purchased  by  the 
Company  in  1411.  Originally  styled  Pepperers,  from  their 
having  dealt  principally  in  pepper,  they  were  in  1345  incor- 
porated by  Edward  the  Third  under  the  title  of  "  the  War- 
*  See  ante,  p.  320. 


SIS  JOHN  CUTLER.  379> 

dens  and  Commonalty  of  the  Mystery  of  the  Grocers  of  the 
City  of  London ;"  their  name  being  apparently  derived  from 
their  selling  articles  in  the  gross. 

Among  other  portraits  in  the  hall  of  the  company  is  that 
of  Sir  John  Cutler,  whom  Pope  has  "  damned  to  everlasting 
fame,"  as  one  of  the  most  miserable  misers  on  record. 

"  Cutler  saw  tenants  break  and  houses  fall, 
For  very  want ;  he  could  not  build  a  wall. 
His  only  daughter  in  a  stranger's  power, 
For  very  want ;  he  could  not  pay  a  dower. 
A  few  grey  hairs  his  reverend  temples  crowned, 
'Twas  very  want  that  sold  them  for  two  pound. 
What  e'en  denied  a  cordial  at  his  end, 
Banished  the  doctor  and  expelled  the  friend  ? 
What  but  a  want,  that  you  perhaps  think  mad, 
Yet  numbers  feel  the  want  of  what  he  had  ! 
Cutler  and  Brutus,  dying,  both  exclaim, 
Virtue  and  Wealth  !  what  are  ye  but  a  name  ?" 

Moral  Essays,  Epistle  3. 

Nevertheless,  so  far,  indeed,  from  Sir  John  Cutler  having 
been  the  wretched  skin-flint  in  which  light  Pope  has  trans- 
mitted his  character  to  posterity,  the  fact  is,  that  the  manner 
in  which  he  disposed  of  his  wealth  did  him  the  highest 
credit.  He  was  a  benefactor  to  the  College  of  Physicians, 
who  erected  a  statue  to  his  memory ;  the  Mercers'  Company, 
out  of  gratitude  for  his  having  erected  at  his  own  cost  the 
great  parlour  and  court-room  of  their  Hall,  still  preserve 
his  portrait  within  their  walls ;  and,  moreover,  the  church  of 
St.  Margaret's,  Westminster,  near  which  he  resided,  is  in- 
debted to  him  for  the  north  gallery,  which  he  added  at  his 
own  expense.  And  yet  this  is  the  man  of  whom  Pope, 
whether  from  ignorance,  wantonness,  or  design,  has  drawn 
so  repulsive  a  picture.  The  following  couplet, — 

"  His  only  daughter  in  a  stranger's  power, 
For  very  want,  he  could  not  pay  a  dower," 

displays  the  same  unaccountable  want  of  knowledge  in  re- 


380  THE  POULTRY. 


gard  to  Sir  John  Cutler  and  his  domestic  affairs.  He  was 
in  fact  the  father,  not  of  an  only  daughter,  but  of  two  daugh- 
ters, one  of  whom  married  Charles  Robartes,  second  Earl  of 
Radnor,  and  the  other  Sir  William  Portman,  baronet. 

In  Grocers'  Hall  Court,  formerly  Grocers'  Alley,  Dr. 
Hawkesworth — the  friend  of  Dr.  Johnson  and  the  translator 
of  "  Telemachus  " — served  his  apprenticeship  as  an  attor- 
ney's clerk.  Strype  speaks  of  Grocers'  Alley  as  an  ordinary 
lane,  "  generally  inhabited  by  alehouse -keepers,  called 
spunging-houses."  It  was  from  one  of  these  houses  that  the 
improvident  poet,  Samuel  Boyse,  addressed  in  1742  those 
remarkable  Latin  verses  and  pathetic  letter  to  Cave  the 
publisher,  which  Sir  John  Hawkins  has  preserved  in  his 
"  Life  of  Dr.  Johnson." 

At  No.  22  in  the  Poultry,  at  the  table  of  the  Messieurs 
Dilly  the  booksellers,  the  well-known  meeting  took  place 
between  Dr.  Johnson  and  Wilkes.*  Boswell  tells  us  that, 
with  the  exception  of  the  entertainments  given  by  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds,  there  was  not  a  table  in  London  at  which 
he  was  in  the  habit  of  meeting  a  greater  number  of  eminent 
literary  men  than  at  that  of  the  Messieurs  Dilly.  At  No. 
31,  in  the  Poultry,  the  late  Thomas  Hood  was  born  in  1798. 

Of  the  Merry  Monarch  it  is  related  that  he  was  one  day 
passing  through  the  street,  when  he  was  informed  that  the 
wife  of  William  King,  the  landlord  of  the  King's  Head 
Tavern,  then  facing  St.  Mildred's  Church,  in  the  Poultry,  was 
in  labour,  and  that  she  had  expressed  a  great  longing  to  see 
him.  With  his  usual  good-nature,  Charles  expressed  his 
readiness  to  gratify  her  wishes,  and  accordingly  entered  the 
house  and  saluted  her. 

At  the  west  end  of  a  court — formerly  called  Scalding 
Alley,  from  its  containing  a  scalding  house  for  the  use  of  the 

*  See  Croker's  "Boswell,"  vol.  iii.  p.  426,  ct  seq. 


BUCKLERSBURY.  381 


poulterers — stands  the  church  of  St.  Mildred,  Poultry,  dedi- 
cated to  St.  Mildred,  a  Saxon  princess  and  saint.  The  old 
edifice,  which  was  of  great  antiquity,  having  fallen  into  a 
dilapidated  state,  was  taken  down  in  1456.  The  church 
which  rose  on  its  site  was  burnt  down  in  the  lire  of  London, 
and  in  1676  the  present  building  was  erected  by  Wren. 
The  interior  is  little  more  than  a  plain  misproportioned 
apartment,  nor  has  the  exterior  any  architectural  merit. 
The  only  eminent  person  who  appears  to  have  been  buried 
here  is  the  once-celebrated  Thomas  Tusser,  author  of  the 
"  Five  Hundred  Points  of  Good  Husbandry,"  who  died  in 
London  about  the  year  1580.  He  led  a  wandering  unsettled 
life,  following  at  different  times  the  occupations  of  farmer, 
chorister,  and  singing-master.  Fuller  describes  him  as 
having  been  "  successively  a  musician,  schoolmaster,  serving- 
man,  husbandman,  grazier,  poet ;  more  skilful  in  all  than 
thriving  in  any  vocation."  His  epitaph  in  the  old  church 
was  as  follows  : — 

"  Here  Thomas  Tusser,  clad  in  earth,  doth,  lie, 
That  sometime  made  the  "  Points  of  Husbandrie  ;" 
By  him  then,  learn  thou  may'st  :  here  learn  we  must, 
When  all  is  done,  we  sleep,  and  turn  to  dust  ; 
And  yet  through  Christ  to  Heaven  we  hope  to  go  ; 
Who  reads  his  books  shall  find  his  path  was  so." 

Bishop  Hoadly  was  for  several  years  lecturer  of  St.  Mildred's. 
Bucklersbury — a  street  running  to  the  south  of  the 
Poultry — derives  its  name,  according  to  Stow,  from  one 
Buckle,  who  had  a  manor-house,  and  kept  his  court  or 
berry  on  the  spot.  Here  stood  an  ancient  tower,  called  the 
Comet  Tower,  built  in  the  reign  of  Edward  the  First,  which, 
having  fallen  into  the  possession  of  Buckle,  he  was  in  the 
act  of  demolishing  it,  when  a  large  piece  of  masonry  fell 
upon  him  and  crushed  him  to  death.  Here,  too,  Edward 
the  Third  had  a  mansion,  adjoining  a  royal  mint  for  coining 


382  INDIAN  HOUSES. 


silver ;  and  here  Sir  Thomas  More  was  residing  at  the  time 
when  his  beloved  daughter,  Mrs.  Roper,  was  born. 

From  a  very  early  period  till  the  great  fire  of  London, 
Bucklersbury  was  inhabited  almost  entirely  by  druggists, 
and  vendors  of  herbs  and  simples.  This  local  peculiarity 
is  referred  to  by  Decker,  and  also  by  Shakspeare  in  the 
"Merry  Wives  of  Windsor."*  "Come,  I  cannot  cog,  and 
say  thou  art  this  and  that,  like  a  many  of  these  lisping 
hawthorn  buds,  that  come  like  women  in  men's  apparel,  and 
smell  like  Bucklersbury  in  simple  time."  The  circumstance 
is  worthy  of  remark,  that  during  the  great  plague  of  1665, 
the  houses  of  the  druggists  and  herbalists  in  Bucklersbury 
entirely  escaped  the  visitation  which  raged  so  fearfully 
around  them. 

After  the  fire  of  London,  Bucklersbury  appears  to  have 
been  principally  distinguished  for  those  once  fashionable 
Indian  houses,  the  favourite  resort  of  persons  of  rank  and 
wealth  of  both  sexes,  where,  on  pretence  of  purchasing  tea, 
china,  japan,  and  the  various  products  of  the  East,  they 
passed  their  idle  hours  in  discussing  the  news  and  scandal 
of  the  day.  As  may  readily  be  supposed,  they  afforded  con- 
venient facilities  for  amorous  assignations,  as  well  as  for 
carrying  on  political  intrigues.  Speaking  of  the  Queen  of 
William  the  Third,  Daniel  Earl  of  Nottingham  writes,  "  She 
dined  at  Mrs.  Garden's,  the  famous  woman  in  the  Hall  that 
sells  fine  ribands  and  head-dresses.  Thence  she  went  to  the 
Jew's  that  sells  Indian  things ;  to  Mrs.  Ferguson's,  De  Vet's, 
Mrs.  Harrison's,  and  other  Indian  houses,  but  not  to  Mrs. 
Potter's,  though  in  her  way ;  which  caused  Mrs.  Potter  to 
say,  that  she  might  as  well  have  hoped  for  that  honour  as 
others,  considering  that  the  whole  design  of  bringing  in 
the  Queen  and  King  was  managed  at  her  house,  and  the 

*  Act  iii.,  scene  3. 


INDIAN  HOUSES. 


•consultations  held  there,  so  that  she  might  as  well  have 
thrown  away  a  little  money  in  raffling  there,  as  well  as  at 
other  houses."  "These  things,"  continues  Lord  Notting- 
ham, "however  innocent  in  themselves,  have  passed  the 
censure  of  the  town.  And,  besides  a  private  reprimand 
given,  the  King  gave  one  in  public,  saying  to  the  Queen,  he 

heard  she  dined  at  a house,  and  desired  the  next 

time  she  went  he  might  go  too.  She  said  she  had  done  no- 
thing but  what  the  late  Queen  had  done."* 

That  the  Indian  houses  deserved  the  coarse  name  which 
King  "William  bestowed  upon  them,  there  can  be  little  ques- 
tion. Colley  Gibber,  for  instance,  makes  Lady  Townley 
"  taking  a  flying  jaunt  to  an  Indian  house,"  and  Prior 
writes — 

"  To  cheapen  tea  or  buy  a  screen, 
What  else  could  so  much  virtue  mean  ?" 

They  appear  to  have  continued  fashionable  for  many  years. 
Lord  Chesterfield  writes  to  Mrs.  Howard,  in  August,  1728, — 
"  If  I  can  be  of  any  use  to  you  here,  especially  in  an  Indian 
house  way,  I  hope  you  will  command  me."  Perhaps  the 
best  notion  that  can  be  conveyed  of  an  Indian  house  is 
afforded  by  the  following  lines  in  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Mon- 
tagu's town  eclogue  of  "  The  Toilette"  : — 

"  Strait  then  I'll  dress,  and  take  my  wonted  range, 
Through  Indian  shops,  to  Motteux'  or  the  'Change  ; 
Where  the  tall  jar  erects  its  stately  pride, 
With  antic  shapes  in  China's  azure  dyed  ; 
There  careless  lies  a  rich  brocade  unrolled  ; 
Here  shines  a  cabinet  with  burnished  gold. 
But  then,  alas  !  I  must  be  forced  to  pay, 
And  bring  no  penn' worths,  not  a  fan  away." 

At  the  back  of  the  Mansion  House  is  the  famous  and 
beautiful  church  of  St.  Stephen's  Walbrook,  the  work  of 

*  Dalrymple's  "Memoirs,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  79,  Appendix. 


384  ST  STEPHEN'S  WALBROOK. 

Sir  Christopher  Wren.  Its  external  appearance,  indeed,  is 
sufficiently  mean  and  insignificant,  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
its  interior  appears  to  be  deserving  all  the  admiration  which 
it  has  excited.  In  the  words  of  a  writer  in  the  "  Critical 
Review,"  as  quoted  by  Pennant — "  Perhaps  Italy  itself  can 
produce  no  modern  building  that  can  vie  with  this  in  taste 
and  proportion.  There  is  not  a  beauty  which  the  plan 
would  admit  of  that  is  not  to  be  found  here  in  the  greatest 
perfection,  and  foreigners  very  justly  call  our  taste  in  ques- 
tion, for  understanding  its  graces  no  better,  and  allowing  it 
no  higher  degree  of  fame." 

When  Richard  Earl  of  Burlington — celebrated  for  his 
architectural  skill  and  taste — was  in  Italy,  he  happened, 
among  the  many  beautiful  places  of  worship,  to  visit  a 
church  which  had  been  built  on  the  model  of  St.  Stephen's 
Walbrook.  On  expressing  himself  very  warmly  in  its  praise, 
his  vanity  as  an  architect  must  have  been  somewhat  piqued 
when  informed  that  he  had  left  the  original  behind  him  in 
his  own  country.  On  his  return  to  England,  his,  first  step 
on  alighting  from  his  carriage  at  Burlington  House,  is  said 
to  have  been  a  pilgrimage  to  St.  Stephen's  Walbrook;  a 
church  of  which,  previous  to  his  foreign  travel,  he  had  pro- 
bably never  even  heard  the  name. 

Unquestionably  St.  Stephen's,  with  its  exquisite  harmony 
and  proportion,  its  rich  Corinthian  columns,  its  fine  dome 
divided  into  decorated  compartments,  its  elegant  lanthorn 
and  noble  roof,  is  the  most  beautiful  of  the  modern  churches 
of  London.  In  the  words  of  Elmes,  Sir  Christopher  Wren's 
biographer,  "On  entering  through  a  vestibule  of  dubious 
obscurity,  and  opening  the  handsome  folding  wainscot  doors, 
a  halo  of  dazzling  light  flashes  at  once  upon  the  eye,  and  a 
lovely  band  of  Corinthian  columns,  of  beauteous  proportions, 
appear  in  magic  mazes  before  you.  The  cupola  and  support- 


ST.  STEPHEN'S  WALBROOK.  385 

ing  arches  expand  their  airy  shapes  like  gossamer,  and  the 
sweetly  proportioned  and  embellished  architrave  cornice,  of 
original  lightness  and  application,  completes  the  charm.  On 
a  second  look,  the  columns  slide  into  complete  order,  like  a 
band  of  young  and  elegant  dancers  at  the  close  of  a  quad- 
rille." The  east  window,  painted  by  Willement,  represents 
the  martyrdom  of  St.  Stephen ;  and  against  the  north  wall 
of  the  church  is  a  picture  by  West,  also  representing  the 
death  of  that  saint. 

The  old  church  of  St.  Stephen's  Walbrook  appears  to  have 
stood  to  the  westward  of  the  present  edifice.  Here  there 
was  a  parish  church  at  least  as  early  as  1135,  when  Eudo, 
Steward  of  the  Household  to  King  Henry  the  First,  made 
it  over  to  the  monastery  of  St.  John  at  Colchester.  This 
church  would  seem  to  have  been  destroyed  about  the  com- 
mencement of  the  fifteenth  century,  inasmuch  as,  in  1428, 
we  find  the  executors  of  Sir  William  Stoddon,  Lord  Mayor 
of  London,  purchasing  from  the  Grocers'  Company  a  spot  of 
ground  in  compliance  with  the  provisions  of  his  will,  to  the 
eastward  of  Walbrook,  as  a  site  for  the  new  church.  This 
church,  which  was  completed  in  1439,  existed  till  its  de- 
struction by  the  fire  of  London,  when,  between  the  years 
1672  and  1679,  the  present  edifice  was  erected  on  its  site. 

In  the  old  church  of  St.  Stephen  was  interred  Sir  Thomas 
Pope,  the  celebrated  statesman  in  the  reigns  of  Henry  the 
Eighth  and  Queen  Mary,  and  the  founder  of  Trinity  College, 
Oxford.  Stow  has  preserved  the  inscription  on  his  tomb  : — 
"  Hie  jacet  Thomas  Pope,  primus  Thesaurarius  Augmenti- 
onum,  et  Domina  Margaretta,  uxor  ejus,  quce  quidem  Mar- 
garetta  obiit,  16  Jan.  1538."  In  a  vault  under  the  present 
church  lie  the  remains  of  the  well-known  dramatic  writer 
and  architect,  Sir  John  Vanbrugh,  who  was  born  in  this 
parish  in  1666. 

VOL.  n.  25 


386  WALBROOK. 


Walbrook  derives  its  name  from  a  fair  stream  of  that 
name,  which  in  ancient  times  entered  the  City  through  the 
old  fortified  wall  between  Bishops-gate  and  Moor-gate,  and, 
after  many  meanderings,  poured  itself  into  the  Thames  on 
the  site  of  the  present  Dowgate  Wharf.  The  brook  was 
crossed  by  several  bridges,  and  was  sufficiently  broad  to 
admit  of  barges  being  towed  up  as  far  as  Bucklersbury, 
a  circumstance  still  preserved  in  the  name  of  Barge  Yard. 
More  than  two  centuries  have  elapsed  since  this  rivulet 
was  vaulted  over  and  built  upon,  so  that  its  subterranean 
course  is  now  but  little  known.* 

In  the  wall  of  a  house  in  Pancras  Lane,  close  by,  is 
a  stone  bearing  the  following  inscription :  —  "  Before  the 
dreadfull  fire,  anno  1666,  here  stood  the  parish  church  of 
St.  Bennet  Sherehog."  The  old  burial  ground  of  the  parish 
is  still  to  be  seen  in  Pancras  Lane.  Let  us  not  omit  to 
mention,  that  "  in,  or  near,  the  parish  of  St.  Mary  Wool- 
church,  where  the  Stocks  Market  now  is,"  was  born,  accord- 
ing to  Anthony  Wood,  the  celebrated  dramatic  writer,  James 
Shirley. 

"  Shirley,  the  morning-child,  the  Muses  bred, 
And  sent  him  born  with  bays  upon  his  head." 

Walbrook  diverges  at  its  southern  extremity  into  Cannon 
Street.  Here,  at  the  south-west  angle  of  St.  Swithin's  Lane, 
stands  the  parish  church  dedicated  to  St.  Swithin.  The  old 
church,  which  existed  on  this  spot  at  least  as  early  as  1331, 
was  burnt  down  in  the  fire  of  London,  shortly  after  which 
period  the  present  structure  was  built  by  Sir  Christopher 
Wren.  In  this  church  Dry  den  was  married,  in  16G3,  to  the 
Lady  Elizabeth  Howard.^ 

Attached  to  the  exterior  of  St.  Swithin's  Church  is  the 

*  See  ante,  p.  234.  f  Cunningham's  "London,"  Art.  St.  Swithin. 


LONDON  STONE.  387 


famous  "London  Stone."  At  least  a  thousand  years  are 
known  to  have  elapsed  since  it  was  first  placed  in  this 
immediate  neighbourhood.  Some  have  supposed  it  to 
have  been  a  Druidical  altar ;  others,  that  it  was  raised  to 
commemorate  some  extraordinary  event ;  some,  that  public 
proclamations  were  delivered  from  it  to  the  citizens ;  while 
others,  from  its  vicinity  to  Watling  Street,  the  principal 
street,  or  Praetorian  way,  of  the  Romans,  have  imagined  it 
to  have  been  the  centre  from  which  that  great  people  com- 
puted their  distances  to  their  several  stations  throughout 
England.  These,  however,  are  the  mere  conjectures  of  an- 
tiquaries, nothing  certain  being  known  of  the  history  of  this 
interesting  relic,  but  that  it  has  been  consecrated  by  the 
veneration  of  ages,  and  that  it  was  long  regarded  as  the 
Palladium  of  the  City.  When,  in  1450,  the  rebel  Jack  Cade 
passed  from  South wark  into  London,  it  was  to  <:  London 
Stone "  that  he  led  his  victorious  followers.  Glancing 

o 

sternly  round  at  the  citizens  by  whom  he  was  surrounded, 
among  whom  were  the  Lord  Mayor,  Nicias  Wyfforde,  and 
the  Aldermen,  he  struck  the  stone  with  his  sword,  exclaim- 
ing—" Now  is  Mortimer  lord  of  this  city  !"* 

In  the  days  of  Stow  London  Stone  stood  upright  in  the 
ground  on  the  south  side  of  Cannon  Street.  In  December, 
1742,  it  was  removed  to  the  north  side  of  the  street,  and  in 
1798  it  was  placed  in  its  present  position,  in  order  to  pre- 
serve it  from  risk  of  injury. 

In  Oxford  Court,  St.  Swithin's  Lane,  is  the  hall  of  the 
Salters'  Company,  built  in  1827.  On  the  site  of  this  court 
stood  the  Inn  of  the  Priors  of  Tortington,  in  Sussex.  Over- 

*  Cade.  Now  is  Mortimer  lord  of  this  city.  And  here  sitting  upon  this 
stone,  I  charge  and  command  that,  of  the  city's  cost,  the  conduit  run 
nothing  but  claret  wine  this  first  year  of  our  reign.  And  now,  hencefor- 
ward it  shall  be  treason  for  any  that  calls  me  other  than  Lord  Mortimer. — 
SHAKSPEARE,  Second  Part  of  Henry  VI.,  act  iv.,  scene  6. 

25—2 


388          INN  OF  THE  PRIORS  OF  TORTINGTON. 

looking  the  Priors'  garden,  now  the  garden  of  the  Salters' 
Company,  stood  "  two  fair  houses,"  which  were  severally  the 
residences  of  Sir  Richard  Empson  and  Sir  Edmund  Dudley, 
celebrated  as  the  instruments  of  Henry  the  Seventh  in  carry- 
ing out  his  oppressive  exactions  on  his  subjects,  for  which 
they  both  subsequently  paid  the  penalty  of  death  on  Tower 
Hill.  They  were,  according  to  Stow,  allowed  access  to  the 
Priors'  garden,  "  wherein  they  met  and  consulted  of  matters 
at  their  pleasures."  The  Inn  of  the  Priors  of  Tortington 
subsequently  gave  place  to  the  mansion  of  the  De  Veres, 
Earls  of  Oxford,  from  whom  Oxford  Court  derives  its 
name. 


BISHOPSGATE  STREET,  CROSBY  HALL. 

DERIVATION  OF  THE  WORD  BISHOPSGATE.— CROSBY  PLACE. — ITS  PRESENT 
CONDITION. — WHEN  BUILT. — CHARACTER  OF  ITS  FOUNDER. — ITS  TENANTS: 
RICHARD  THE  THIRD, — READ, — EMPEROR  MAXIMILIAN, — REST, — SIR  THO- 
MAS MORE, — BOND, — SPENCER, — FIRST  EARL  OF  NORTHAMPTON, COUNTESS 

OF    PEMBROKE, — DUC]  DE    SULLY,    SECOND  EARL    OF    NORTHAMPTON, — SIR 
STEPHEN   LANGHAM. — GRESHAM  HOUSE. — SIR    PAUL  PINDAR. 

BISHOPSGATE  STREET  derives  its  name  from  one  of 
the  ancient  City  gates,  which  spanned  the  street 
where  the  thoroughfare  called  London  Wall  now 
divides  Bishopsgate  Within  from  Bishopsgate  Without  the 
walls.  The  gate  in  question  is  said  to  have  been  originally 
built  about  the  year  680,  by  Erkenwald,  Bishop  of  London. 
Shortly  after  the  Conquest  it  was  repaired  and  beautified  by 
William,  one  of  the  successors  of  Erkenwald  in  the  metropo- 
litan- see,  and  from  these  circumstances,  and  from  its  having 
been  ornamented  with  the  statues  of  the  two  Bishops,  it 
derived  its  name  of  Bishopsgate.  It  was  finally  rebuilt  in 
1479,  in  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Fourth. 

The  ancient  houses  which  not  long  since  rendered  the 
aspect  of  Bishopsgate  Street  so  interesting  to  the  antiquary, 
are  fast  disappearing.  Fortunately,  however,  a  few  still 
remain;  enabling  us  to  form  a  tolerable  notion  of  the  ap- 
pearance of  an  aristocratic  street  in  London  in  the  days  of 
Henry  the  Seventh. 

Passing  down  Bishopsgate  Street,  a  small  gateway  on  the 
right  leads  us  into  Crosby  Square,  the  site  of  that  magiiifi- 


390  CROSBY  PLACE. 


cent  mansion,  Crosby  Place,  the  stately  hall  of  which  is  still 
standing.  The  escape  from  the  noise  and  bustle  of  the 
streets  to  this  quiet  spot  is  of  itself  a  relief ;  but  how  de- 
lightful are  our  sensations  on  finding  ourselves  gazing  on 
those  time-honoured  walls,  within  which  the  usurper  Richard 
hatched  his  crooked  counsels;  where  Sir  Thomas  More  is 
said  to  have  composed  his  great  work,  the  "  Utopia,"  and 
where  the  great  minister  Sully  lodged,  when  he  arrived  in 
England  on  that  well-known  embassy,  of  which  his  own  pen 
has  bequeathed  us  so  interesting  a  description ! 

Of  the  vast  size  of  old  Crosby  Place,  the  immense  extent 
of  its  still  existing  vaults  affords  sufficient  evidence.  All  that 
now  remains  to  us — and  rich  indeed  are  we  in  their  posses- 
sion— are  the  council-chamber,  the  throne-room,  and  the  old 
hall.  The  throne-room,  with  its  oak-ceiling  divided  into 
compartments,  and  its  graceful  window  extending  from  the 
ceiling  to  the  floor,  has  been  deservedly  admired.  But  the 
magnificent  hall  it  is,  with  its  host  of  historical  associations, 
which  makes  us  feel  that  we  are  standing  on  classic  ground. 
There  it  is  that  we  recall  the  days  when  it  was  the  scene  of 
the  revel  and  the  dance  ;  when  the  wise,  the  witty,  and  the 
princely  feasted  at  its  festive  board ;  when  its  vaulted  roof 
echoed  back  the  merry  sounds  of  music ;  when  a  thousand 
tapers  flashed  on  the  tapestried  walls ;  when  gentle  dalliance 
took  place  in  its  oriel  window ;  and  where,  not  improbably, 
Richard  the  Third  himself  may  have  led  off  one  of  the  stately 
dances  of  the  period  with  the  Lady  Anne.  Nearly  four  cen- 
turies have  passed  since  its  princely  founder  laid  his  hand 
to  its  foundation-stone;  and  yet  it  still  remains,  with  its 
glorious  roof,  its  fine  proportions,  and  its  beautiful  oriel 
window,  as  perfect  as  when  the  architect  gave  his  finishing 
touch  to  it  in  the  days  of  the  Plantagenets. 

Crosby  Place  was  built  in  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Fourth, 


JOHN  CROSBY.  391 


on  some  ground  rented  from  Alice  Ashfield,  prioress  of  the 
adjoining  convent  of  St.  Helen's.  The  founder  was  the 
powerful  citizen  and  soldier,  Sir  John  Crosby,  whose  monu- 
ment is  still  a  conspicuous  object  in  St.  Helen's  Church. 
He  was  sheriff  of  London  in  1471,  an  Alderman,  a  warden  of 
the  Grocers'  Company,  and  represented  the  City  of  London 
in  parliament  from  1461  to  1466.  He  lived  in  the  day's 
when  the  wealth  and  commerce  of  London  were  monopolized 
by  the  few,  and  when  its  merchants  were  indeed  princes.  In 
figuring  to  our  imaginations  a  Lord  Mayor  or  Alderman  of 
the  time  of  the  Plantagenets,  we  must  carefully  avoid  con- 
founding him  with  some  pursy  and  respectable  Lord  Mayor 
or  Alderman  of  our  own  time.  We  might  as  well  attempt  to 
identify  a  corpulent  peer  of  the  nineteenth  century,  slum- 
bering on  the  easy  benches  of  the  House  of  Lords,  with  the 
stalwart  barons  who  combated  on  the  field  of  Tewkesbury, 
or  who  bore  off  the  palm  on  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold. 
Sir  John  Crosby  was  the  prototype  of  a  class  introduced 
at  the  Norman  Conquest,  and  which  expired  with  the 
Tudors  and  Plantagenets  ;  a  class  of  men  who  united  the 
citizen  with  the  warrior,  and  the  merchant  with  the  cour- 
tier, the  diplomatist,  and  man  of  letters.  Of  such  a  calibre 
were  Sir  William  Walworth,  who  dashed  Wat  Tyler  to  the 
earth  at  Smithfield  ;  and  Sir  Thomas  Sutton,  the  princely 
founder  of  the  Charter  House,  whom  we  find  at  one  time 
accumulating  wealth  in  his  quiet  counting-house,  at  another, 
superintending  the  firing  of  the  great  guns  at  the  siege  of 
Edinburgh,  and  lastly,  crowning  a  useful  existence  by  found- 
ing the  noble  establishment  to  which  we  have  just  referred. 
Where  are  such  illustrious  citizens  to  be  found  in  our  own 
days  ?  Such  a  man  was  Sir  John  Crosby.  Vast  apparently 
as  was  his  wealth,  and  peaceful  as  were  his  daily  occupations, 
he  was,  nevertheless,  an  active  partizan  in  the  struggles  be- 


392  CROSBY  PLACE. 


tween  the  Houses  of  York  and  Lancaster.  We  find  him  wel- 
coming Edward  the  Fourth  on  his  landing  at  Ravenspur,  and 
receiving  knighthood  for  his  reward :  the  following  year  he 
was  sent,  with  Sir  John  Scott  and  others,  on  a  secret  mission 
to  the  Duke  of  Burgundy ;  and  not  long  afterwards  we  find 
him  negotiating  at  the  court  of  the  Duke  of  Brittany  for  the 
surrender  of  the  persons  of  the  Earl  of  Pembroke  and  the 
Earl  of  Richmond,  afterwards  Henry  the  Seventh.  Sir  John 
Crosby  died  in  1475,  apparently  only  a  short  time  after  the 
completion  of  his  stately  mansion. 

According  to  Shakspeare,  Crosby  Place  was  the  residence 
of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  afterwards  Richard  the  Third,  as 
early  as  the  time  of  Henry  the  Sixth's  decease,  in  1471.  In 
the  famous  wooing  scene  between  Richard  and  the  Lady 
Anne,  the  former  exclaims  : — 

"  That  it  would  please  thee,  leave  these  sad  designs 
To  him  that  hath  more  cause  to  be  a  mourner, 
And  presently  repair  to  Crosby  Place  ; 
Where,  after  I  have  solemnly  interr'd, 
At  Chertsey  monastery  this  noble  King, 
And  wet  his  grave  with  my  repentant  tears, 
I  will  with  all  expedient  duty  see  you  : 
For  divers  iinknown  reasons,  I  beseech  you, 
Grant  me  this  boon. 

Anne.     With  all  my  heart ;  and  much  it  joys  me  too, 
To  see  you  are  become  so  penitent. 
Tressel  and  Berkeley,  go  along  with  me."  * 

Whether  Shakspeare  is  correct  in  fixing  the  residence  of 
the  Duke  of  Gloucester  at  Crosby  Place  at  this  particular 

*  "Richard  III.,"  act  i.,  scene  2.     Shakspeare  again  introduces  Crosby 
Place  in  the  scene  between  Gloucester  and  the  murderers, — 

"  Gloucester. — Are  you  now  going  to  despatch  this  deed  ? 
\st  Murderer. — We  are,  my  lord,  and  come  to  have  the  warrant, 

That  we  may  be  admitted  where  he  is. 
Gloucester. — Well  thought  upon  ;  I  have  it  here  about  me. 
When  you  have  done,  repair  to  Crosby  Place." 

Richard  III.,  act  i.,  sc.  3. 


CROSBY  PLACE.  393 


period,  admits  of  doubt;  but  that  he  was  residing  here 
twelve  years  afterwards,  when  Edward  the  Fourth  breathed 
his  last,  there  can  be  no  question.  Some  of  his  retinue,  it 
seems,  were  lodged  in  the  neighbouring  suburb  of  Cripple- 
gate.  Sir  Thomas  More  mentions,  in  his  "Pitiful  Life  of 
King  Edward  the  Fifth,"  that  on  the  same  night  that 
Edward  the  Fourth  died  at  Westminster,  one  Mistelbrooke 
came  stealthily  to  the  house  of  Pettier,  a  retainer  of  the 
Duke  of  Gloucester,  who  lived  in  Red  Cross  Street,  Cripple- 
gate,  and,  "  after  hasty  rapping,  being  quickly  let  in,"  in- 
formed him  of  the  important  tidings  of  the  King's  death. 
"  By  my  troth,  then,"  quoth  Pettier,  "  will  my  master,  the 
Duke  of  Gloucester,  be  King,  and  that  I  warrant  thee." 
Even  at  this  early  period,  it  would  seem,  were  the  ambitious 
designs  of  Richard  suspected  by  his  friends  and  retainers.  At 
.all  events,  in  the  interim  between  his  brother's  death  and 
his  own  usurpation,  we  have  evidence,  not  only  that  he  held 
his  levies  in  Crosby  Place,  but  that  they  were  crowded  with 
the  noblest  and  wisest  in  the  land ;  the  young  King  in  the 
mean  time  being  left  "  in  a  manner  desolate." 

In  /502,  Crosby  Place  was  purchased  by  Bartholomew 
Readf  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  and  the  same  year  was  set 
apa^-t  as  the  residence  of  the  ambassador  of  the  Emperor 
Maximilian,  who  filled  it  with  a  splendid  retinue,  consisting 
/f  a  Bishop,  an  Earl,  and  a  large  train  of  gentlemen.  From 
/the  possession  of  Read,  Crosby  Place  passed  into  the  hands 
of  Sir  John  Rest,  Lord  Mayor  in  1516,  by  whom  it  was  sold 
to  Sir  Thomas  More. 

Were  it  from  no  other  circumstance  than  its  having  been 
the  residence  of  that  great  man,  Crosby  Place  would  be  suffi- 
ciently endeared  to  us.  Here  he  passed  that  useful  and 
cheerful  existence  which  his  pen  has  so  well  described,  and 
here  he  is  supposed  to  have  written  his  "Utopia"  and  his 


394  CROSBY  PLAGE. 


"  Life  of  Richard  the  Third."  Not  improbably  the  idea  of 
the  latter  work  may  have  suggested  itself  to  him  from  his 
occupying  the  same  apartments  where,  according  to  popular 
belief,  the  crook-backed  Richard  hatched  his  dark  projects 
and  successful  crimes. 

In  1523,  Sir  Thomas  More  parted  with  Crosby  Place  to 
his  dear  friend,  Antonio  Bonvisi,  a  merchant  of  Lucca. 
When,  a  few  years  afterwards,  More  was  a  prisoner  in  the 
Tower — deprived,  by  the  cruelty  of  his  persecutors,  of  the 
means  of  communicating  with  those  who  were  near  and  dear 
to  him — it  was  to  Bonvisi  that  he  wrote  with  a  piece  of 
charcoal  that  well-known  and  interesting  letter  which 
breathes  so  eloquently  of  Christian  piety  and  resignation. 

From  Bonvisi,  Crosby  Place  passed,  in  1547,  into  the 
hands  of  William  Roper,  the  son-in-law,  and  William  Ras- 
tell,  the  nephew,  of  Sir  Thomas  More.  The  days  of  religious 
persecution  followed;  the  old  mansion  became  forfeited; 
and  shortly  afterwards  was  conferred  by  Edward  the  Sixth 
on  Sir  Thomas  d'Arcy,  a  Knight  of  the  Garter,  created  Baron 
d'Arcy  of  Chiche  in  1551.  Whether  Lord  d'Arcy  ever  resided 
here  is  doubtful,  for  shortly  afterwards  we  find  it  the  resi- 
dence of  a  wealthy  citizen,  William  Bond,  whose  history  is 
thus  briefly  told  on  his  monument  in  the  neighbouring 
church  of  St.  Helen's.  "  Here  lyeth  the  body  of  William 
Bond,  Alderman,  and  some  time  Sheriff  of  London ;  a  mer- 
chant adventurer,  and  most  famous  in  his  age  for  his  great 
adventures,  both  by  sea  and  land.  Obiit  30  of  May,  1576." 

The  next  possessor  of  Crosby  Place  (1590)  was  Sir  John 
Spencer,  whose  immense  wealth  rendered  him  one  of  the 
most  conspicuous  persons  of  his  age,  and  obtained  for  him 
the  title  of  "  the  Rich  Spencer."  Here  he  kept  his-mayoralty 
in  1594.  At  his  death,  in  1609,  Crosby  Place,  together  with 
the  mass  of  his  vast  fortune,  came  into  the  possession  of 


CROSBY  PLACE.  3&5- 


William  Compton,  first  Earl  of  Northampton,  who  had 
married  Elizabeth,  the  only  daughter  of  "  the  Rich  Spencer." 
The  circumstance  of  finding  himself  suddenly  the  posses- 
sor of  untold  wealth,  had  such  an  effect  upon  Lord  North- 
ampton, that,  according  to  Winwood,  it  deprived  him  tem- 
porarily of  his  senses.  On  the  mind  of  his  lady,  however — 
at  least  if  we  may  judge  by  the  following  very  curious  letter 
addressed  by  her  to  her  Lord — it  produced  no  other  effect 
than  a  desire  to  spend  freely,  and  to  the  best  advantage,  the 
wealth  which  Providence  and  her  father's  long  life  of  indus- 
try had  secured  to  her. 

"  MY  SWEET  LIFE, 

"  Now  I  have  declared  to  you  my  mind  for  the  selling  of 
your  estate,  I  supposed  that  that  were  best  for  me  to  be- 
think or  consider  with  myself  what  allowance  were  meetest 
for  me.  For  considering  what  care  I  have  ever  had  of  your 
estate,  and  how  respectfully  I  dealt  with  those,  which  both 
by  the  laws  of  God,  of  nature,  and  civil  polity,  wit,  reli- 
gion, government,  and  honesty,  you,'  my  dear,  are  bound  to, 
I  pray  and  beseech  you  to  grant  to  me,  your  most  kind 
and  loving  wife,  the  sum  of  £1600  per  annum,  quarterly  to 
be  paid. 

"Also  I  would,  besides  that  allowance  for  my  apparel, 
have  £600  added  yearly  (quarterly  to  be  paid),  for  the  per- 
formance of  charitable  works,  and  these  things  I  would  not, 
neither  will  be  accountable  for. 

"  Also  I  will  have  three  horses  for  my  own  saddle,  that 
none  shall  dare  to  lend  or  borrow ;  none  lend  but  I,  none 
borrow  but  you. 

"  Also  I  would  have  two  gentlewomen,  lest  one  should  be 
sick  or  have  some  other  lett.  Also  believe  that  it  is  an 
undecent  thing  for  a  gentlewoman  to  stand  mumping  alone, 


-396  CROSBY  PLACE. 


when  God  hath  blessed  their  lord  and  lady  with  a  great 
estate. 

"  Also  when  I  ride  a  hunting,  or  a  hawking,  or  travel  from 
-one  house  to  another,  I  will  have  them  attending.  So  for 
either  of  those  said  women,  I  must  and  will  have  for  either 
of  them  a  horse. 

"Also  I  will  have  six  or  eight  gentlemen;  and  I  will 
have  my  two  coaches,  one  lined  with  velvet,  to  myself,  with 
four  very  fair  horses ;  and  a  coach  for  my  women,  lined 
with  sweet  cloth,  one  laced  with  gold,  the  other  with  scarlet, 
and  lined  with  watched  lace  and  silver,  with  four  good  horses. 

"  Also  I  will  have  two  coachmen,  one  for  my  own  coach, 
the  other  for  my  women. 

"  Also,  at  any  time  when  I  travel,  I  will  be  allowed,  not 
only  caroches  and  spare  horses  for  me  and  my  women,  but 
I  will  have  such  carriages  as  shall  be  fitting  for  all,  orderly, 
not  posturing  my  things  with  my  women's,  nor  theirs  with 
chamber-maids,  nor  theirs  with  wash-maids. 

"  Also,  for  laundresses;  when  I  travel,  I  will  have  them  sent 
away  before  with  the  carriages  to  see  all  safe ;  and  the 
chamber-maids  I  will  have  go  before  with  the  grooms,  that 
•the  chambers  may  be  ready,  sweet,  and  clean. 

"  Also,  for  that  it  is  undecent  to  crowd  up  myself  with 
my  gentleman-usher  in  my  coach,  I  will  have  him  to  have  a 
convenient  horse,  to  attend  me  either  in  city  or  country. 
And  I  must  have  two  footmen.  And  my  desire  is,  that  you 
defray  all  the  charges  for  me. 

"  And  for  myself,  besides  my  yearly  allowance,  I  would 
have  twenty  gowns  of  apparel,  six  of  them  excellent  good 
ones,  eight  of  them  for  the  country,  and  six  other  of  them 
very  excellent  good  ones. 

"  Also  I  would  have  to  put  in  my  purse,  £2000  and  £200 ; 
-and  so  you  to  pay  my  debts. 


CROSBY  PLACE.  397 


"  Also  I  would  have  £6000  to  buy  me  jewels,  'and  £400Q 
to  buy  me  a  pearl  chain. 

"  Now,  seeing  I  have  been  and  am  so  reasonable  unto 
you,  I  pray  you  to  find  my  children  apparel  and  their 
schooling,  and  all  jny  servants,  men  and  women,  their 
wages. 

"  And  I  will  have  all  my  houses  furnished,  and  all  my 
lodging-chambers  to  be  suited  with  all  such  furniture  as  is 
fit ;  as  beds,  stools,  chairs,  suitable  cushions,  carpets,  silver 
warming-pans,  cupboards  of  plate,  fair  ^  hangings,  and  such 
like.  So  for  my  drawing-chamber  in  all  houses,  I  will  have 
them  delicately  furnished,  both  with  hangings,  couch, 
canopy,  glass,  carpet,  chairs,  cushions,  and  all  things  there- 
unto belonging. 

"  Also  my  desire  is,  that  you  would  pay  your  debts,  build 
Ashby  House,  and  purchase  lands ;  and  lend  no  money,  as 
you  love  God,  to  the  Lord  Chamberlain,*  which  would  have 
all,  perhaps  your  life,  from  you.  Remember  his  son,  my 
Lord  Walden,"}*  what  entertainment  he  gave  me  when  you 
were  at  the  Tilt-yard.  If  you  were  dead,  he  said  he  would 
be  a  husband,  a  father,  a  brother;  and  said  he  would  marry 
me.  I  protest  I  grieve  to  see  the  poor  man  have  so  little 
wit  and  honesty  to  use  his  friend  so  vilely.  Also  he  fed  me 
with  untruths  concerning  the  Charter  House ;  but  that  to 
the  least  he  wished  me  much  harm ;  you  know  him,  God 
keep  you  and  me  from  him,  and  any  such  as  he  is. 

"  So  now  that  I  have  declared  to  you  what  I  would  have,, 
and  what  that  is  that  I  would  not  have,  I  pray,  when  you 

*  Thomas  Howard,  first  Earl  of  Suffolk,  the  corrupt  and  rapacious  minis- 
ter of  James  the  First.  He  died  in  Suffolk  House,  now  Northumberland 
House,  in  the  Strand,  28th  of  May,  1626. 

t  Theophilus,  who  succeeded  his  father  as  second  Earl  of  Suffolk,  died 
3rd  of  June,  1640. 


398  CROSBY  PLACE. 


be  an  Earl,  to  allow  me  £1000  more  than  now  desired,  and 
double  attendance. 

"  Your  loving  Wife, 

"ELIZA  COMPTON."* 

The  next  tenant  of  Crosby  Place  was  the  celebrated  Mary 
Countess  of  Pembroke,  wife  of  Henry,  second  Earl  of  Pem- 
broke, and  mother  of  Earl  William  and  Earl  Philip.  She 
was  the  beloved  sister  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  and  accordingly 
the  probability  that  he  was  frequently  her  guest  at  Crosby 
Place,  lends  an  additional  interest  to  the  spot.  The  tastes 
and  habits  of  the  brother  and  sister  were  congenial.  There 
existed  in  each  the  same  high  sense  of  honour,  the  same 
refinement  of  mind,  the  same  amiable  interest  in  the  suffer- 
ings and  wants  of  others.  Sir  Philip  dedicated  his  "  Arcadia  " 
to  his  sister,  the  being  who  best  loved  the  author,  and  who 
was  the  most  competent  to  appreciate  his  genius.  By  Dr. 
Donne  it  was  said  of  her,  that  "  she  could  converse  well  on 
all  subjects,  from  predestination  to  sleave-silk."  Ben  Jonson 
wrote  his  famous  epitaph  on  her  death,  and  Spenser  eulo- 
gizes her  as — 

"  The  gentlest  shepherdess  that  lived  that  day ; 
And  most  resembling,  both  in  shape  and  spirit, 
Her  brother  dear." 

Lady  Pembroke  lived  to  a  very  advanced  age  ;  her  later 
years  having  been  unfortunately  embittered  by  the  cowar- 
dice and  misconduct  of  her  second  son,  Philip,  the  "  memo- 
rable simpleton  "  of  Horace  Walpole. 

When,  towards  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
the  Due  de  Biron  arrived  in  London  with  his  magnificent 
ambassadorial  train,  consisting  of  nearly  four  hundred  noble- 

*  Bishop  Goodman's  "Memoirs  of  the  Court  of  King  James  I.,"  vol.  ii., 
p.  127. 


CROSBY  PLACE.  399 


men  and  gentlemen,  it  was  at  Crosby  Place  that  he  was 
lodged. 

Another  French  ambassador  who  was    an    occupant   of 
Crosby  Place  was  the  celebrated  Due  de  Sully,  who  lodged 
here  in  great  splendour  on  the  occasion  of  his  embassy  to 
England  in  the  reign  of  James  the  First.     On  the  night 
after  his  arrival  an  unfortunate  accident  occurred,  which 
very  nearly  led  to  Crosby  Place  becoming  the  scene  of  out- 
rage and  bloodshed.      "I  was  accommodated  with   apart- 
ments," says  Sully  in  his  Memoirs,  "in  a  very  handsome 
house,  situated  in  a  great  square,  near  which  all  my  retinue 
were  also  provided  with  the  necessary  lodgings.     Some  of 
them  went  to  entertain  themselves  with  women  of  the  town. 
At  the  same  place  they  met  with  some  English,  with  whom 
they  quarrelled,  fought,  and  one  of  the  English  was  killed. 
The  populace,  who  were  before  prejudiced  against  us,  being 
excited  by  the  family  of  the  deceased,  who  was  a  substantial 
citizen,  assembled,  and  began  loudly  to  threaten  revenge 
upon  all  the  French,  even  in  their  lodgings.     The  affair  soon 
began  to  appear  of  great  consequence ;  for  the  number  of 
the  people  assembled  upon  the  occasion  was  presently  in- 
creased to  upwards  of  three  thousand,  which  obliged  the 
French  to  fly  for  an  asylum  into  the  house  of  the  ambas- 
sador.    I  did  not  at  first  take  notice  of  it ;    the  evening 
advanced,  and  I  was  playing  at  primero  with  the  Marquis 
d'Oraison,  Saint  Luc,  and  Blerancourt.    But  observing  them 
come  in  at  different  times,  by  three  and  four  together,  and 
with  great  emotion,  I  at  last  imagined  that  something  extra- 
ordinary had  happened,  and  having  questioned  Terrail  and 
Gadencourt,  they   informed  me   of  the    particulars.     The 
honour  of  my  nation,  my  own  in  particular,  and  the  interest 
of  my  negotiation,  were   the  first  objects  that    presented 
themselves  to  my  mind.     I  was  also  most  sensibly  grieved 


400  CROSBY  PLACE. 


that  my  entrance  into  London  should  be  marked  at  the 
beginning  by  so  fatal  an  accident ;  and  at  that  moment  I 
am  persuaded  my  countenance  plainly  expressed  the  senti- 
ments with  which  I  was  agitated.  Guided  by  my  first 
impulse,  I  arose,  took  a  flambeau,  and  ordering  all  that  were 
in  the  house  (which  was  about  a  hundred)  to  range  them- 
selves round  the  walls,  hoped  by  this  means  to  discover  the 
murderer,  which  I  did  without  any  difficulty,  by  his  agita- 
tion and  fear.  He  was  for  denying  it  at  first,  but  I  soon 
obliged  him  to  confess  the  truth." 

The  culprit,  it  seems,  was  a  young  man  of  good  family, 
the  only  son  of  the  Sieur  de  Combant,  and  a  relative  of  M.  de 
Beaumont,  the  resident  French  ambassador  in  London.  The 
latter  happening  to  enter  at  the  moment,  earnestly  advocated 
the  cause  of  his  kinsman,  and  entreated  that  his  life  might 
be  spared.  Sully,  however,  obdurately  insisted  on  the  neces- 
sity of  waiving  all  private  feelings  in  a  matter  of  such  vital 
importance  ;  adding,  that  on  no  account  whatever  would  he 
allow  the  interests  of  the  King,  his  master,  to  suffer  by  the 
imprudence  of  a  reckless  stripling.  "  I  told  Beaumont,"  he 
says,  "  in  plain  words  that  Combant  should  be  beheaded  in 
a  few  minutes.  How,  Sir,  cried  Beaumont,  behead  a  kinsman 
of  mine,  possessed  of  200,000  crowns,  an  only  son  ? — it  is  but 
an  ill  recompense  for  the  trouble  he  has  given  himself,  and 
the  expense  he  has  been  at  to  accompany  you.  I  again  re- 
plied in  as  positive  a  tone  that  I  had  no  occasion  for  such 
company,  and,  to  be  short,  I  ordered  Beaumont  to  quit  my 
apartment,  for  I  thought  it  would  be  improper  to  have  him 
present  in  my  council,  which  I  intended  to  hold  immediately, 
in  order  to  pronounce  sentence  of  death  upon  Combant."  It 
would  seem  that  Sully,  in  his  heart,  had  really  no  intention 
whatever  of  putting  the  young  man  to  death.  The  crafty 
diplomatist,  indeed,  had  conceived  an  idea,  which,  while  it 


CROSBY  PLACE.  401 


enabled  him  to  save  the  offender's  life,  would  at  the  same 
time  have  the  effect,  as  he  well  knew,  of  rendering  himself 
not  a  little  popular  with  the  citizens  of  London.  Concealing 
his  real  intentions  from  those  who  surrounded  him,  and  pre- 
tending extreme  indignation  at  the  conduct  of  his  retainer, 
he  wrote  to  the  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  desiring  that  on  the 
following  day  he  would  send  the  officers  of  justice  to  Crosby 
Place,  in  order  to  conduct  the  criminal  to  execution.  Dis- 
armed by  this  apparent  sincerity  on  the  part  of  the  Due  de 
Sully, — and,  as  the  latter  seems  to  hint,  bribed  by  the 
friends  of  the  criminal, — the  Lord  Mayor  readily  listened  to 
the  solicitations  of  M.  de  Beaumont  on  behalf  of  his  kinsman, 
and  in  due  time  Combant  was  set  at  liberty.  "  This  favour," 
says  Sully,  "  no  one  could  impute  to  me  ;  on  the  contrary,  I 
perceived  that  both  the  French  and  English  seemed  to  think 
that  if  the  affair  had  been  determined  by  me,  it  would  not 
have  ended  so  well  for  Combant ;  and  the  consequence  to  me 
was,  with  respect  to  the  English  and  French,  that  the  former 
began  to  love  me,  and  the  latter  to  fear  me  more." 

The  last  inhabitant  of  Crosby  Place  to  whose  name  any 
particular  interest  attaches,  was  the  gallant  cavalier,  Spencer, 
second  Earl  of  Northampton,  who,  in  1612,  accompanied 
Charles  the  First,  when  Prince  of  Wales,  as  his  Master  of  the 
Robes,  in  his  romantic  journey  to  Madrid  to  woo  the  Infanta 
of  Spain.  On  the  breaking  out  of  the  civil  wars  he  attached 
himself  to  the  cause  of  his  royal  master.  He  was  present,  at 
the  head  of  two  thousand  retainers,  at  the  famous  raising  of 
the  standard  at  Nottingham ;  distinguished  himself  at  the 
battle  of  Edgehill ;  and,  in  several  skirmishes,  obtained  a 
victory  over  the  rebels.  Like  his  friend,  the  great  Lord 
Falkland,  he  was  destined  to  expiate  his  loyalty  on  the 
battle-field.  In  the  famous  fight  on  Hopton  Heath — not- 
withstanding the  vast  numerical  superiority  of  the  rebel 

VOL,  ii.  26 


402  CEOSBY  PLACE. 


forces — he  determined  on  giving  them  battle.  Dashing 
forward  at  the  head  of  his  gallant  troopers,  he  completely 
cleared  the  field  of  the  enemy's  cavalry ;  captured  their 
cannon  and  ammunition,  and  left  between  four  and  five 
hundred  on  the  ground  either  dead  or  disabled.  Suddenly, 
however,  he  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  the  rebel  infantry, 
and  his  helmet  having  been  struck  off  by  the  butt-end  of  a 
musket,  he  was  at  once  recognized.  Quarter  was  offered  to 
him,  but  it  was  indignantly  rejected.  "  Think  ye,"  he  said, 
"  that  I  will  take  quarter  from  such  base  rebels  and  rogues 
as  ye  are  ?"  at  the  same  time  preparing  to  sell  his  life  as 
dearly  as  possible.  In  a  moment  he  was  assailed  on  all 
sides.  A  blow  on  his  face,  and  another  from  a  halbert  on  the 
back  of  his  head,  sent  him  staggering  from  his  horse,  and  the 
hero  of  Hopton  Heath  fell  to  rise  no  more. 

The  mingling  of  the  ancient  blood  of  the  Comptons  with 
that  of  the  plebeian  merchant,  the  "  Kich  Spencer,"  appears 
in  no  degree  to  have  contaminated  the  chivalry  of  their 
race.  Of  the  great-grandchildren  of  the  old  usurer,  whose 
infancies  were  probably  passed  at  Crosby  Place,  there  was 
not  one  who  was  not  in  heart  and  by  profession  a  soldier. 
Jame),  who  succeeded  as  third  Earl  of  Northampton,  and  his 
brother,  Sir  Charles  Compton,  fought  side  by  side  with  their 
gallant  father  at  Edgehill  and  Hopton  Heath,  and  subse- 
quently avenged  his  death  on  many  a  bloody  field.  Sir 
William,  whatever  may  have  been  his  faults,  was  the  brave 
defender  of  Banbury.  Sir  Spencer  fought  in  most  of  the 
battles  of  the  time ;  and  Sir  Francis,  after  a  long  profes- 
sional career,  died  in  1716,  at  the  age  of  eighty-seven,  the 
oldest  field-officer  in  the  military  service  of  Great  Britain. 
The  youngest  brother  was  Henry,  who,  though  Bishop  of 
London,  appears  to  have  had  at  least  as  much  of  the  soldier 
in  his  composition  as  the  churchman.  In  his  youth  he  had 


CROSBY  PLACE.  403 


held  a  commission  in  the  Guards,  nor  was  it  till  he  had  at- 
tained the  age  of  thirty  that  he  entered  into  Holy  Orders. 
When  James  the  Second,  in  the  plenitude  of  his  power,  was 
plotting  against  the  religion  and  the  liberties  of  his  subjects, 
he  happened  one  day  to  be  conversing  with  the  Bishop  on 
the  state  of  public  affairs,  when  the  latter  boldly  and 
conscientiously  expressed  himself  opposed  to  the  King's 
measures.  "  My  Lord,"  said  James,  "  you  are  talking  more 
like  a  colonel  than  a -bishop." — "Your  Majesty  does  me 
honour,"  was  the  calm  reply,  "  in  reminding  me  that  I  for- 
merly drew  my  sword  in  defence  of  the  Constitution ;  I  shall 
certainly  do  so  again  if  I  live  to  see  the  necessity."  The  ne- 
cessity indeed  was  near  at  hand.  When  the  misgovernment 
and  misconduct  of  James  threw  the  country  into  a  state  of 
anarchy,  it  was  Bishop  Compton  whom  the  Princess  Anne 
selected  to  be  her  personal  protector.  When — without  at- 
tendants, and  without  a  change  of  linen — she  stole,  in  the 
dead  of  night,  down  the  back  staircase  at  the  Cockpit  at 
Whitehall,  it  was  the  gallant  Bishop  who  was  in  readiness 
with  a  hackney  coach  to  carry  her  in  safety  to  her  friends. 
He  it  was — when  the  Princess  made  her  public  entry  into 
Oxford — who  rode  before  her  at  the  head  of  a  gallant  troop 
of  gentlemen,  clad  "  in  a  purple  cloak,  martial  habit,  pistols 
before  him,  and  his  sword  drawn  ;"*  his  cornet  carrying  a 
standard  before  him,  on  which  were  inscribed,  in  golden 
letters,  the  words  "Nolumus  leges  Anglim  mutari" 

The  remaining  annals  of  Crosby  Place  may  be  related  in  a 
few  words.  The  last  tenant  was  Sir  Stephen  Langham,  who 
was  its  occupant  at  the  time  of  the  Restoration  of  Charles 
the  Second,  and  in  whose  lifetime  the  greater  part  of  the 
fine  old  mansion  was  destroyed  by  fire.  Fortunately  the 
magnificent  hall  escaped,  and  from  1672  till  the  middle  of 

.    *  Ellis'  "Orig.  Letters,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  177.     Second  Series. 

26—2 


GRESHAM  HOUSE. 


the  last  century  was  used  as  a  Presbyterian  Meeting-house. 
The  next  purpose  to  which  it  was  converted  was  a  packer's 
warehouse,  in  which  condition  it  remained  for  many  years, 
when,  public  attention  was  called  to  its  dilapidated  state, 
and  sufficient  funds  were  raised  by  subscription  to  restore 
it,  as  we  now  view  it,  to  its  pristine  state  of  beauty  and 
magnificence.  The  work  of  restoration  commenced  on  the 
27th  of  June,  1836. 

Besides  Crosby  Place,  Bishopsgate  Street  in  the  olden 
time  could  boast  more  than  one  magnificent  mansion.  On 
the  west  side  stood  Greshain  House,  the  princely  palace  of 
Sir  Thomas  Greshain,  the  founder  of  the  Royal  Exchange 
and  of  Gresham  College.  His  vast  wealth,  his  munificent 
charities,  the  pleasure  which  Queen  Elizabeth  took  in  his 
society,  and  his  having  been  constantly  employed  in  trans- 
acting the  commercial  affairs  of  the  Court,  obtained  for  him 
the  name  of  "  the  Royal  Merchant."  Not  only  was  he  the 
greatest  merchant  of  his  age ;  not  only  were  his  energies  em- 
ployed in  extending  our  trade  over  the  world,  and  in  extri- 
cating the  crown  from  its  pecuniary  trammels,  but  he  has 
also  the  merit  of  having  introduced  into  the  kingdom  the 
manufacture  of  small  wares — such  as  pins,  knives,  hats, 
ribands,  and  other  articles.  Queen  Elizabeth  was  frequently 
his  guest,  not  only  at  his  country  seat,  Osterly,  near  Brent- 
ford, but  also  at  his  palace  in  Bishopsgate  Street;  since 
more  than  once  we  read,  in  the  parish  annals  of  the  period, 
of  the  "  ringing  of  the  bells  "  on  the  occasion  of  the  Virgin 
Queen  having  been  entertained  under  his  hospitable  roof. 

By  his  will,  dated  in  1579,  the   year  of  his  death,  Sir- 
Thomas  Gresham  ordained  that  his  house  in  Bishopsgate 
Street  should  be  converted  into  a  college ;  to  comprise  habi- 
tations and  lecture  rooms  for  seven  professors,  who  were  re- 
quired to  lecture  on  divinity,  astronomy,  music,  geometry, 


SIR  PAUL  PINDAR.  405 

civil  law,  physic,  and  rhetoric.  Here,  in  1658,  was  founded 
the  Royal  Society,  of  which  the  great  philosopher  Robert 
Boyle,  and  the  great  architect  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  were 
among  the  original  members.  When  Sir  Kenelm  Digby  lost 
his  beautiful  wife,  Venetia  Stanley,  it  was  in  Gresham  Col- 
lege that  he  excluded  himself  from  the  world,  amusing  him- 
seJf  with  the  study  of  chemistry,  and  with  the  conversation 
of  the  professors.  Here  this  extraordinary  man  was  daily  to 
be  seen  pacing  the  secluded  court  of  the  College ;  his  dress 
consisting  of  a  long  mourning  cloak  and  a  high-crowned  hat ; 
and  his  beard,  which  he  had  allowed  to  grow  in  testimony 
of  his  grief,  flowing  at  full  length  on  his  breast.  Let  us  not 
omit  to  mention,  that  at  his  apartments  in  Gresham  College 
the  celebrated  mathematician  and  philosopher,  Robert  Hooke, 
breathed  his  last  in  March,  1702-3. 

Another  stately  mansion  which  stood  in  Bishopsgate 
Street,  was  that  of  the  eminent  merchant,  Sir  Paul  Pindar, 
who,  like  Sir  Thomas  Gresham,  was  distinguished  alike  by 
his  vast  wealth,  his  splendid  charities,  and  literary  taste. 
He  is  said  at  one  period  of  his  life  to  have  been  worth  no 
less  a  sum  than  £236,000,  exclusive  of  bad  debts.  As  an 
instance  of  his  munificence,  it  may  be  mentioned  that  he 
gave  £19,000  in  one  gift  towards  the  repair  of  St.  Paul's 
Cathedral.  In  the  reign  of  James  the  First  he  was  ap- 
pointed ambassador  to  the  Grand  Seignior,  on  which  occasion 
he  successfully  exerted  his  talents  and  sound  sense  in  ex- 
tending British  commerce  in  Turkey.  At  his  return  he 
brought  with  him  a  diamond  valued  at  £30,000.  The  arrival 
of  this  costly  bauble  in  England  created  an  extraordinary 
sensation ;  and  King  James  the  First,  eager  to  place  it  in 
the  regal  coronet,  offered  to  purchase  it  on  credit.  This 
overture,  from  prudential  motives,  was  rejected  by  its 
owner,  though  he  allowed  his  sovereign  the  loan  of  it,  and 


406  SIR  PAUL  PINDAR. 

accordingly  it  was  worn  by  him  on  more  than  one  occasion  of 
state  and  ceremony.  It  was  afterwards  purchased  by  Charles, 
the  First,  and  likely  enough  shared  the  fate  of  the  other  crown 
jewels  which  Henrietta  Maria  carried  with  her  to  Holland 
in  1642,  for  the  purpose  of  purchasing  arms  and  ammunition 
to  enable  her  husband  to  carry  on  the  war  with  his  subjects. 
Probably  no  individual  ever  lent  such  vast  sums  to  his- 
sovereign  as  Sir  Paul  Pindar.  Charles  the  First  was  his- 
debtor  to  a  vast  amount,  and  involved  Sir  Paul  in  his  own 
ruin.  So  great  indeed  is  said  to  have  been  the  revolution 
in  his  fortunes,  that  for  a  short  time  he  was  a  prisoner  for 
debt.  When  he  died,  so  bewildered  was  his  executor, 
William  Toomes,  at  the  confused  state  in  which  he  found 
his  friend's  affairs,  added  to  the  multiplicity  of  his  engage- 
ments and  responsibilities,  that  it  is  said  to  have  been  the 
cause  of  his  putting  an  end  to  his  existence. 

A  part  of  the  princely  residence  of  Sir  Paul  Pindar 
(No.  169),  though  strangely  metamorphosed  by  time  and 
paint,  may  still  be  seen  nearly  opposite  to  Widegate  Street. 
In  the  immediate  neighbourhood  is  the  church  of  St.  Bo- 
tolph's,  Bishopsgate,  in  which  may  be  seen  the  monument  of 
the  princely  merchant,  bearing  the  following  inscription  : — 

"Sir  Paul  Pindar,  Kt., 
His  Majesty's  Ambassador  to  the  Turkish  Emperor, 

Anno  Domi.  1611,  and  9  years  resident. 
Faithful  in  negotiation,  Foreign  and  Domestick, 
Eminent  for  piety,  charity,  loyalty,  and  prudence. 
An  inhabitant  26  years,  and  bountiful  Benefactor 

to  this  Parish. 

He  died  the  22nd  of  August,  1650, 
Aged  84  years." 


CHUECH  OF  ST.  HELEN'S  THE  GREAT, 

ANTIQUITY  OF  ST.  HELEN'S  CHURCH.  —  PRIORY  OF  BENEDICTINE  NUNS 
FOUNDED  THERE.  —  EXTERIOR  AND  INTERIOR  OF  THE  CHURCH.  —  ITS 
STRIKING  MONUMENTS  :  SIR  JULIUS  CAESAR'S, — MARTIN  BOND'S,  — SIR  JOHN 
CROSBY'S,  —  SIR  WILLIAM  PICKERING'S,  —  SIR  THOMAS  GRESHAM'S,  — 
FRANCIS  BANCROFT'S. — HOUNSDITCH. — HAND  ALLEY. — DEVONSHIRE  COURT. 
— ST.  BOTOLPH'S  CHURCH.  —  PERSIAN'S  TOMB.  —  CURTAIN  THEATRE. — 
SHOREDITCH. — HOXTON. — SPITALFIELDS. — BETHNAL  GREEN.  —  OLD  ARTIL- 
LERY GROUND. 

NORTH  of  Crosby  Square  is  an  insignificant  thorough- 
fare, leading  us  at  once  from  the  noise  and  turmoil 
of  Bishopsgate  Street  into  an  area  of  considerable  size, 
in  which  stands  the  ancient  and  interesting  church  of  St. 
Helen's  the  Great.      Were  it   from  no  other  circumstance 
than  that  it  contains  the  mouldering  remains  and  costly 
monuments  of  more  than  one  princely  possessor  of  Crosby 
Place,  St.  Helen's  would  be  well  worthy  of  a  visit.     But  it 
has  other  and  far  more  interesting  associations. 

It  was  probably  not  long  after  the  time  when  the  conver- 
sion of  Constantino  the  Great  to  Christianity  had  the  effect 
of  bursting  the  fetters  of  the  primitive  Christians,  and  of 
drawing  them  from  their  caves  and  hiding-places  to  adore 
their  Redeemer  in  the  open  face  of  day,  that  a  place  of 
religious  worship  was  raised  on  the  site  of  the  present  St. 
Helen's  Church.  Everything  around  us,  indeed,  breathes 
of  antiquity.  Long  before  the  days  of  Constantine  the 
ground  on  which,  we  stand  was  the  site  of  the  princely 
palace,  either  of  some  Roman  Emperor,  or  of  one  of  his 


408  ST.  HELEN'S  CHURCH, 

lordly  delegates.  In  1712,  a  tesselated  pavement,  composed 
of  red,  white,  and  grey  tesserce,  was  discovered  on  the  north 
side  of  Little  St.  Helen's  gateway,  and  as  late  as  1836  a 
similar  pavement  was  found  at  the  north-west  angle  of 
Crosby  Square. 

From  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  palaces  and  temples  which 
the  Romans  erected  in  England,  not  unfrequently  arose  the 
altars  and  churches  of  the  early  Christians.  Among  these, 
not  improbably,  was  St.  Helen's  Church ;  although  we  have 
no  certain  information  of  its  having  been  a  place  of  Chris- 
tian worship  till  1010,  in  which  year  .Alweyne,  Bishop  of 
Helmeham,  removed  hither  from  St.  Edmondsbury  the  re- 
mains of  King  Edmund  the  Martyr,  in  order  to  prevent 
their  being  desecrated  by  the  Danes.  The  very  name  of 
the  saint  to  whom  the  church  is  dedicated  carries  iis  into 
far  antiquity.  The  patron  saint  was  Helena,  the  mother  of 
Constantino  the  Great,  who  is  said  to  have  been  born  at 
Colchester  in  Essex.  Her  piety  has  immortalized  her  name. 
The  inscriptions,  which  describe  her  as  Piissima,  and  Vene- 
Tabilis  Augusta,  show  in  what  veneration  she  was  held,  not 
only  by  her  contemporaries,  but  by  succeeding  ages.  When 
a  pilgrimage  over  the  sandy  and  hostile  plains  of  Palestine 
was  an  undertaking  from  which  even  the  boldest  often 
shrank,  the  mother  of  the  Emperor,  despising  alike  all 
danger  and  privation,  journeyed  to  the  Holy  City.  Per- 
suaded by  the  enthusiasts  and  antiquaries  of  the  fourth 
century  that  she  had  discovered  not  only  the  exact  site  of 
the  Crucifixion,  but  the  true  Cross,  she  built  a  church  over 
the  presumed  site  of  the  Redeemer's  interment,  and  by  this, 
and  other  acts  of  piety,  obtained  for  herself  not  only  an  ex- 
traordinary reputation  for  sanctity  during  her  lifetime,  but 
canonization  after  death. 

Putting  tradition,  however,  out  of  the  question,  St.  He- 


ST.  HE  LEWS  CHURCH.  409 

left's  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  most  interesting  churches 
in  London.  Here,  in  1210,  a  priory  of  Benedictine,  or  Black 
Nuns,  was  founded  by  William  Fitz- William,  a  wealthy  and 
pious  goldsmith  of  London.  .The  establishment  appears  to 
have  been  of  considerable  size,  having  its  hall,  hospital,  dor- 
mitories, cloisters,  and  offices.  The  nuns  rest  calmly  be- 
neath the  green  and  level  sward  in  front  of  St.  Helen's 
Church,  but,  with  the  exception  of  the  pile  in  which  they 
offered  up  their  devotions,  no  trace  of  the  ancient  nunnery 
remains.  Their  refectory  was  for  many  years  used  as  the 
hall  of  the  Leathersellers'  Company ;  nor  was  it  till  17.99 
that  it  was  pulled  down,  in  order  to  make  room  for  the 
houses  now  known  as  St.  Helen's  Place.  Together  with 
the  hall  perished  the  ancient  crypt  beneath  it,  which  was 
of  great  antiquity,  and  possessed  no  inconsiderable  archi- 
tectural merit. 

The  exterior  of  St.  Helen's  presents  the  singular  aspect  of 
a  double  church,  or  rather  of  two  naves,  running  parallel 
with  and  united  to  each  other;  a  circumstance  to  be  ac- 
counted for  from  the  fact  of  one  having  been  the  original 
church,  and  the  other,  now  forming  the  northern  nave, 
having  been  the  church  attached  to  the  nunnery.  In  the 
northern  nave  were  till  recently  to  be  seen  the  long  range 
of  carved  seats  which  were  occupied  by  the  nuns  when  at 
their  devotions.  These  seats  have  now  been  placed  near 
the  altar,  and  form  stalls  for  the  choristers.  At  the  resto- 
ration of  the  church,  commenced  in  1866,  some  steps  were 
discovered  against  the  northern  wall.  These  lead  to  a  door 
partly  below  the  level  of  the  present  flooring,  and  beyond 
which  is  a  portion  of  a  flight  of  stone  stairs,  which  no 
doubt  led  up  from  the  church  to  the  nunnery.  But 
what  is  still  more  striking,  is  the  beautiful  niche,  with 
its  row  of  open  arches  beneath,  known  as  the  "  Nun's  Grat- 


410  ST.  HELEN'S  CHURCH. 

ing,"  through  which,  when  suffering  imprisonment  for  their 
misdemeanours  in  the  crypt  below,  the  nuns  might  view  the 
high  altar,  and  witness  the  performance  of  mass.  The  care 
which  the  Romish  Church  took  of  the  spiritual  welfare  of 
those  who  offended  against  her  precepts  is  exhibited,  in  a 
like  manner,  by  a  small  and  gloomy  cell  which  still  exists  in 
the  Temple  Church,  through  an  aperture  in  which  the  pri- 
soner could  listen  to,  and  join  in  the  service's  of  the  Church. 
Probably  in  the  gloomy  crypt  of  St.  Helen's  has  languished 
many  a  fair  girl,  whom  the  feelings  natural  to  youth  may 
have  tempted  to  steal  from  her  convent  walls,  and  to  trans- 
gress the  rules  of  her  order.  There  is  extant  a  curious  lec- 
ture read  to  the  nuns  of  St.  Helen's  by  Kentwode,  Dean  of 
St.  Paul's,  on  the  occasion  of  his  visitation  to  the  convent  in 
1439.  His  hints  to  them  about  keeping  within  the  walls  of 
the  convent,  lest  "  evil  suspicion  or  slander  might  arise" — his 
injunctions  to  close  the  cloister  doors  and  to  intrust  the  keys 
to  some  "  sad  woman  and  discreet " — excite  suspicions  that 
the  nuns  were  a  pleasure-loving,  if  not  a  frail  sisterhood. 

The  appearance  of  the  interior  of  St.  Helen's  Church  is 
more  striking,  and  at  the  same  time  far  more  picturesque, 
than  that  of  the  exterior.  At  the  east  end  is  a  transept,  and 
also  a  small  chapel,  dedicated  to  the  Holy  Ghost,  part  of 
which  has  been  converted  into  a  vestry- room.  Altogether, 
not  withstanding  the  violation  of  all  artistical  rules,  the  air  of 
antiquity  which  pervades  the  building,  added  to  the  number 
of  altar-tombs  which  meet  the  eye  and  the  general  beauty  of 
the  architectural  details,  produce  an  effect  at  once  solemn 
and  impressive. 

There  is  perhaps  no  church  in  London,  of  the  same  dimen- 
sions, which  can  boast  so  many  striking  monuments  as  St. 
Helen's  the  Great.  In  the  transept  at  the  east  end  is  a 
beautiful  table-tomb,  of  black  and  white  marble,  to  the 


ST.  HELEN'S  CHURCH.  411 

memory  of  Sir  Julius  Caesar,  Master  of  the  Rolls  and  Privy 
Councillor  in  the  reign  of  James  the  First,  who  was  in- 
terred near  the  communion  table,  on  the  18th  of  April,. 
1636.  This  tomb,  which  was  erected  by  Sir  Julius  in 
his  lifetime,  was  the  work  of  the  famous  sculptor,  Ni- 
cholas Stone.  The  most  remarkable  feature  of  it  is  the 
inscription,  which  is  engraved  on  a  piece  of  white  marble,  in 
the  form  of  a  parchment  deed,  with  a  seal  appended  to  it. 
It  purports  to  be  a  bond,  or  engagement,  on  the  part  of  the 
deceased,  duly  signed  and  sealed,  to  deliver  up  his  life  to 
God  whenever  it  may  be  demanded  of  him. 

Another  interesting  monument,  which  formerly  stood 
close  by,  but  which  is  now  removed  to  the  south  of  the 
nave  near  the  entrance,  is  that  of  Sir  John  Spencer,  the 
"  Rich  Spencer  "  whom  we  have  mentioned  as  the  princely 
occupant  of  Crosby  Place.  The  tomb,  which  is  composed  of 
marble,  represents  Sir  John  Spencer  and  his  wife,  Alicia 
Bloomfield,  lying  side  by  side,  and  a  woman  in  the  attitude 
of  prayer  kneeling  at  their  feet.  The  inscription,  in  Latin, 
enumerates  the  high  civic  honours  held  by  Sir  John ;  nor 
does  it  omit  to  mention  that  his  only  daughter,  Elizabeth, 
became  the  wife  of  William,  Lord  Compton. 

Among  other  remarkable  monuments  may  be  mentioned 
that  of  Martin  Bond,  the  father  of  Sir  William  Bond,  whom 
we  have  mentioned  as  having  been  one  of  the  proprietors  of 
Crosby  House.  He  was  one  of  Elizabeth's  captains  at  Til- 
bury at  the  time  when  the  Spanish  Armada  was  daily  ex- 
pected, and  from  this  circumstance  is  represented  as  sitting 
in  his  tent,  two  soldiers  standing  sentries  outside,  and  an 
attendant  being  in  the  act  of  bringing  up  his  horse.  The 
inscription  is  as  follows : — 

"Memorise  Sacrum. 
"Near  this  place  resteth  the  body  of  the  worthy  citizen  and  soldier,. 


412  ST.  HELEN'S  CHURCH. 

Martin  Bond,  Esq.,  son  of  William  Bond,  Sheriff  and  Alderman  of  London. 
He  was  Captain,  in  the  year  1588,  at  the  camp  at  Tilbury,  and  after  re- 
mained Captain  of  the  Trained  Bands  of  this  City  until  his  death.  He  was 
a  Merchant- Adventurer,  and  free  of  the  Company  of  Haberdashers  :  he 
lived  to  the  age  of  85  years,  and  died  in  May,  1643.  His  piety,  prudence, 
courage,  and  charity,  have  left  behind  him  a  never-dying  monument." 

But  unquestionably  the  most  interesting  monument  in 
St.  Helen's  Church,  not  only  from  its  connection  with  Crosby 
Place,  but  from  its  antiquity  and  costly  workmanship,  is  that 
of  Sir  John  Crosby,  the  founder  of  the  old  mansion  and  the 
munificent  renovator  of  the  church  in  the  days  of  Edward 
the  Fourth.  His  monument,  on  the  south  side  of  the  altar, 
consists  of  an  altar-tomb  on  which  lie  side  by  side  the 
figures  of  Sir  John  Crosby  and  of  Agnes  his  wife,  the  former 
being  in  full  armour. 

On  the  north  side  of  the  altar,  beneath  a  canopy  enriched 
with  columns  and  arches,  reclines  the  figure  of  the  graceful 
and  learned  Sir  William  Pickering,  represented  also  in  full 
armour.  Not  only  is  he  described  as  having  been  one  of  the 
finest  gentlemen  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived ;  as  having 
been  accomplished  in  polite  literature  and  in  all  the  arts  of 
war  and  peace,  but  so  great  was  the  influence  which  he  is 
said  to  have  established  over  the  mind  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
as  to  embolden  him  to  aspire  to  her  hand.  A  long  Latin  in- 
scription, which  is  now  effaced,  stated  that  Sir  William 
Pickering  died  on  the  4th  of  January,  1574,  at  the  age  of 
fifty-eight. 

Close  by  is  a  large  but  simple  altar-tomb,  covered  with  a 
black  marble  slab,  the  monument  of  Sir  Thomas  Gresham, 
whose  charities,  magnificence,  and  virtues  we  have  already 
recorded  in  our  notice  of  his  princely  mansion  in  Bishopsgate 
Street.  The  inscription  is  as  simple  as  the  tomb  itself: — 

"  Sir  Thomas  Gresham,  Knight,  buryd  Decembr  the  loth, 
1579." 


ST.  HELENS  CHURCH.  413 

Another  prominent  feature  in  the  church  is  a  large  un- 
seemly mass  of  masonry,  disfigured  rather  than  ornamented 
by  urns,  beneath  which  lie  the  remains  of  one  Francis  Ban- 
croft, who,  as  the  inscription  says,  purchased  the  ground 
in  1723,  and  erected  the  tomb  in  his  lifetime,  in  1726.  Ac- 
cording to  tradition,  he  amassed  a  large  fortune  by  discredit- 
able means,  but  becoming  penitent  at  the  close  of  life,  he 
made  atonement  for  his  misdeeds  by  founding  some  alms- 
houses  at  Mile  End,  and  by  dispensing  his  wealth  in  other 
acts  of  charity.  His  last  will  was  distinguished  by  a  singular 
provision.  Having  directed  that  his  body  should  be  em- 
balmed and  placed  in  a  coffin  without  fastenings,  he  applied 
a  fund  for  the  annual  preaching  of  a  sermon  in  commemo- 
ration of  his  death,  on  which  occasion  it  was  enjoined  that 
his  body  should  be  publicly  exhibited  to  the  almsmen,  who 
were  compelled  to  attend  on  the  occasion.  "  He  is  em- 
balmed," writes  Noorthouck,  "  in  a  chest  made  with  a  lid, 
having  a  pair  of  hinges,  without  any  fastening."  The  inte- 
rior of  the  tomb  is  still  occasionally  visited,  but  the  custom 
of  annually  exposing  the  shrivelled  remains  has  been  for 
many  years  discontinued. 

Before  closing  our  notices  of  St.  Helen's  Church,  let  us 
point  out,  for  the  sake  of  the  quaintness  of  the  inscription, 
a  small  old  marble  monument  on  the  north  side  of  the  altar, 
to  the  memory  of  Sir  ^drew  Judd,  Kt.,  elected  Lord 
Mayor  of  London  in  1549  : — 

"  To  Russia  and  Mussova, 

To  Spayne,  Gynny,  without  fable, 
Traveld  he  by  land  and  sea  ; 

Bothe  Mayre  of  London  and  Staple. 
The  commenwelthe  he  norished 

So  worthelie  in  all  his  daies, 
That  ech  state  fullwell  him  loyed, 
To  his  perpetuall  prayse. 


414  HAND  ALLEY. 


Three  wy  ves  he  had  ;  one  was  Mary ;' 

Fower  sunes,  one  mayde  had  he  by  her  ; 
Annys  had  none  by  him  truly  ; 

By  dame  Mary  had  one  dowghter. 
Thus,  in  the  month  of  September, 

A  thowsande  fyve  hunderd  fiftey 
And  eight,  died  this  worthie  staplar, 

Worshipynge  his  posterytye." 

In  St.  Helen's  Church  lies  buried  the  celebrated  mathe- 
matician and  natural  philosopher,  Robert  Hooke,  but  with- 
out any  monument  to  his  memory. 

Returning  from  St.  Helen's  Place  into  Bishopsgate  Street, 
on  the  right  hand  side  is  Houndsditch,  formerly  a  filthy 
ditch,  into  which  dead  dogs  and  cats  were  usually  thrown, 
but  which  has  long  since  been  converted  into  a  street  of 
considerable  importance.  Into  this  ditch,  after  having  been 
dragged  by  his  heels  from  Baynard's  Castle,  were  thrown 
the  remains  of  the  traitor,  Edric  Duke  of  Mercia,  the  mur- 
derer of  his  master,  Edmund  Ironsides. 

Within  a  short  distance  of  Houndsditch  stood  Hand  Alley, 
built  on  the  site  of  another  of  the  principal  receptacles  for 
the  dead  during  the  raging  of  the  great  plague  in  1665. 
"The  upper  end  of  Hand  Alley,  in  Bishopsgate  Street," 
writes  Defoe,  "was  then  a  green  field,  and  was  taken  in 
particularly  for  Bishopsgate  parish,  though  many  of  the 
carts  out  of  the  City  brought  their  dead  thither  also,  par- 
ticularly out  of  the  parish  of  Allhallows-on-the-Wall.  This 
place  I  cannot  mention  without  much  regret.  It  was,  as  I 
remember,  about  two  or  three  years  after  the  plague  had 
ceased,  that  Sir  Robert  Clayton  came  to  be  possessed  of  the 
ground ;  it  being  reported  that  all  those  who  had  any  right 
to  it  were  carried  off  by  the  pestilence.  Certain  it  is,  the 
ground  was  let  out  to  build  upon,  or  built  upon  by  his  order. 
The  first  house  built  upon  it  was  a  large,  fair  house,  still 
standing,  which  faces  the  street  now  called  Hand  Alley, 


DEVONSHIRE  COURT.  415 

which,  though  called  an  alley,  is  as  wide  as  a  street.  The 
houses,  in  the  same  row  with  that  house  northward,  are  built 
on  the  very  same  ground  where  the  poor  people  were  buried, 
and  the  bodies,  on  opening  the  ground  for  the  foundations, 
were  dug  up ;  some  of  them  remaining  so  plain  to  be  seen, 
that  the  women's  skulls  were  distinguished  by  their  long 
hair,  and  of  others  the  flesh  was  not  quite  perished,  so  that 
the  people  began  to  exclaim  loudly  against  it,  and  some 
suggested  that  it  might  endanger  a  return  of  the  contagion. 
After  which  the  bones  and  bodies,  as  they  came  at  them, 
were  carried  to  another  part  of  the  same  ground,  and 
thrown  all  together  into  a  deep  pit,  dug  on  purpose  at  the 
upper  end  of  Rose  Alley,  just  against  the  door  of  a  meeting- 
house. There  lie  the  bones  and  remains  of  near  two  thou- 
sand bodies,  carried  by  the  dead-carts  to  their  graves  in  that 
one  year." 

On  the  east  side  of  Bishopsgate  Street  is  Devonshire 
Court,  a  small  street  leading  into  Devonshire  Square, 
both  of  which  derive  their  names  from  being  the  site  of 
the  London  residence  of  the  Cavendishes,  Earls  of  Devon- 
shire. Here  William,  the  second  Earl — the  accomplished 
courtier  of  the  reign  of  James  the  First — breathed  his 
last  on  the  20th  of  June,  1628,  and  here  Elizabeth  Cecil, 
widow  of  William,  the  third  Earl,  was  residing  as  late  as 
1704.  The  mansion  was,  originally  built  by  one  Jasper 
Fisher,  a  clerk  in  Chancery,  who  lavished  such  large  sums 
on  the  adornment  of  the  house  and  gardens  that  it  ended 
in  his  ruin,  and  obtained  for  the  place  the  name  of  "  Fisher's 
Folly."  Stow  speaks  of  it  as  "  a  large  and  beautiful  house, 
with  gardens  of  pleasure,  bowling-alleys,  and  such  like." 
After  passing  through  a  succession  of  hands,  it  became  the 
residence  of  that  magnificent  courtier,  Edward  de  Vere, 
seventeenth  Earl  of  Oxford,  Lord  High  Chamberlain  to 


416          EDWARD  DE  VERE,  EARL  OF  OXFORD. 

Queen  Elizabeth,  and  pre-eminently  conspicuous  in  the  tour- 
naments and  stately  pastimes  of  her  reign.  "  He  was  of  the 
highest  rank,"  writes  Mr.  D'Israeli,  "  in  great  favour  with 
the  Queen,  and  in  the  style  of  the  day,  when  all  our  fashions 
and  our  poetry  were  moulding  themselves  on  the  Italian 
model,  he  was  the  '  Mirror  Tuscanismo ;'  and,  in  a  word,  this 
coxcombical  peer,  after  a  seven  years'  residence  in  Florence, 
returned  highly  '  Italianated.'  The  ludicrous  motive  of  this 
peregrination  is  as  follows.  Haughty  of  his  descent  and 
alliance,  irritable  with  effeminate  delicacy,  and  personal 
vanity,  a  little  circumstance,  almost  too  minute  to  be  re- 
corded, inflicted  such  an  injury  on  his  pride,  that  in  his 
mind  it  required  years  of  absence  from  the  court  of  England 
ere  it  could  be  forgotten.  Once,  making  a  low  obeisance 
to  the  Queen,  before  the  whole  court,  this  stately  peer  suf- 
fered a  mischance,  which  has  happened,  it  is  said,  on  a  like 
occasion.  This  accident  so  sensibly  hurt  his  mawkish  deli- 
cacy, and  so  humbled  his  aristocratic  dignity,  that  he  could 
not  raise  his  eyes  on  his  royal  mistress.  He  resolved  from 
that  day  to  be  a  banished  man,  and  resided  for  seven  years 
in  Italy,  living  in  more  grandeur  at  Florence  than  the  Grand 
Duke  of  Tuscany.  He  spent  in  three  years  forty  thousand 
pounds.  On  his  return,  he  presented  the  Queen  with  em- 
broidered gloves  and  perfumes,  then  for  the  first  time  intro- 
duced into  England,  as  Stow  has  noticed.  The  Queen  re- 
ceived them  graciously,  and  was  even  painted  wearing 
those  gloves;  but  my  authority  states  that  the  masculine 
sense  of  Elizabeth  could  not  abstain  from  congratulating 
the  noble  coxcomb ;  perceiving,  she  said,  that  at  length  my 
Lord  had  forgot  the  mentioning  the  little  mischance  of  seven 
years  ago."*  When  Queen  Elizabeth  paid  visits  to  the 
City,  she  was  frequently  entertained  at  Oxford  House. 
*  "  Curiosities  of  Literature,"  p.  2CO.  Ed.  1838. 


ST.  BOTOLPH'S  CHURCH.  417 

From  the  De  Veres  it  passed  directly  into  the  possession  of 
the  Cavendishes. 

Nearly  opposite  to  Devonshire  Court,  on  the  west  side 
of  Bishopsgate  Street,  stands  St.  Botolph's  Church,  erected 
between  the  years  1725  and  1728.  On  the  north  wall  is 
to  be  seen  the  tomb  of  Sir  Paul  Pindar,  to  which  we  have 
already  referred.  Many  instances  of  Sir  Paul's  munificence 
are  to  be  traced  in  the  parish  books  of  St.  Botolph's.  Among 
these  is  recorded  the  gift  of  a  gigantic  pasty — probably  an 
annual  donation — of  which  the  mere  "  flour,  butter,  pepper, 
eggs,  making,  and  baking  "  cost  no  less  than  19s.  7d.,  no  insig- 
nificant sum  in  the  days  of  Charles  the  First.  Among  other 
entries  in  the  books  of  the  parish,  is  one  of  lls.,  in  1578,  "  paid 
for  frankincense  and  flowers  when  the  Chancellor  sat  with 
us." 

In  the  churchyard  is  a  curious  tomb  inscribed  with 
Persian  characters,  to  the  memory  of  Hodges  Shaugh- 
sware,  who  came  to  England  with  his  son  as  secretary 
to  the  Persian  ambassador  in  the  reign  of  James  the 
First,  and-  who  was  buried  on  the  10th  of  August,  1626. 
His  son  presided  over  the  ceremonial  of  his  interment; 
reading  certain  prayers  and  using  other  ceremonies  accord- 
ing to  the  custom  of  their  country,  both  morning  and  even- 
ing for  a  whole  month  after  the  burial.  The  monument 
was  set  up  at  the  charge  of  his  son,  who  caused  to  be  en- 
graved on  it  certain  Persian  characters,  of  which  the  follow- 
ing is  said  to  be  a  translation : — "  This  grave  is  made  for 
Hodges  Shaughsware,  the  chiefest  servant  to  the  King  of 
Persia  for  the  space  of  twenty  years,  who  came  from  the  King 
of  Persia,  and  died  in  his  service.  If  any  Persian  cometh  out 
of  that  country,  let  him  read  this,  and  pray  for  him.  The 
Lord  receive  his  soul,  for  here  lieth  Maghmote  Shaugh- 
sware, who  was  born  in  the  town  Noroy,  in  Persia." 

VOL.  n.  27 


418  CURTAIN  THEATRE. 

The  funeral  ceremony  took  place  between  eight  and  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning;  the  body  being  followed  to  the 
grave  by  the  ambassador  and  the  other  Persians  belonging 
to  the  embassy.  At  the  north  end  of  the  grave  sat  the  son, 
cross-legged,  who  alternately  read  or  sang  some  plaintive 
strain ;  his  reading  and  singing  being  intermixed  with  the 
weeping  and  lamentations  of  the  other  mourners.  These 
ceremonies  were  continued  twice  a  day  :  a  certain  number 
of  the  Persians  repairing  to  the  grave  every  morning  at  six 
o'clock,  and  at  the  same  hour  in  the  evening,  to  offer  up 
prayers  for  their  deceased  friend. 

Bishopsgate  Street  leads  us  into  Shoreditch,  from  the 
west  side  of  which  diverges  Holywell  Lane,  the  site  of  a 
nunnery  of  great  antiquity,  dedicated  to  St.  John  the  Bap- 
tist. In  1539,  at  the  dissolution  of  the  monastic  houses,  it 
surrendered  to  Henry  the  Eighth,  when  the  "  church  thereof 
being  pulled  down,  many  houses  were  built  for  the  lodgings 
of  noblemen,  of  strangers  born,  and  others."  Close  by  stood 
the  Curtain  playhouse,  supposed  to  have  been  established 
about  the  year  1576,  and  suppressed  in  the  reign  of  Charles 
the  First.  Stow,  speaking  of  the  old  nunnery,  observes : — 
"  Near  thereunto  are  builded  two  publique  houses,  for  the 
acting  and  shew  of  comedies,  tragedies,  and  histories,  for 
recreation.  Whereof  one  is  called  the  Curtain,  the  other, 
the  Theatre  ;  both  standing  on  the  south-west  side,  towards 
the  field."  The  site  of  the  Curtain  theatre  is  still  pointed 
out  by  Curtain  Eoad,  to  the  west  of  High  Street,  Shore- 
ditch,  formerly  called  Holywell  Street.  In  the  latter  street, 
Richard  Burbage,  the  fellow-actor  and  friend  of  Shakspeare, 
lived  and  died.  The  Theatre,  which  stood  in  Holywell 
Lane,  is  said  to  have  been  the  oldest  building  erected  for 
scenic  exhibitions  in  London. 

Norton  Folgate  leads    us    into    Shoreditch,  anciently  a 


SHOREDITCH.  419 


retired  village  situated  on  tlie  old  Roman  highway  leading 
into  London.  It  has  been  supposed  to  have  derived  its 
name  from  the  husband  of  Jane  Shore,  the  beautiful  concu- 
bine of  Edward  the  Fourth,  but  this  is  not  the  case.  Much 
more  reason  there  is  for  believing  that  it  owes  its  appella- 
tion to  one  of  the  ancestors  of  Sir  John  de  Sordich,  an 
eminent  warrior,  lawyer,  and  statesman  in  the  reign  of 
Edward  the  Third,  whose  family  appear  for  centuries  to 
have  been  in  possession  of  the  manor. 

The  parish  church  of  St.  Leonard,  Shoreditch,  was  rebuilt 
in  1740,  by  Dance,  the  architect  of  the  Mansion  House,  and 
is  interesting  as  containing  the  remains  of  many  eminent 
actors,  who  "  fretted  their  hour  "  in  the  neighbouring  play- 
houses.* 

As  late  as  the  days  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  Shoreditch  stood 
in  the  open  fields,  at  which  time  it  was  famous  for  the 
expertness  of  its  archers.  Among  these  was  one  Barlo,  who 
displayed  such  extraordinary  skill  in  the  presence  of  Henry 
the  Eighth  during  some  sports  in  Windsor  Park,  that  the 
King  jocularly  conferred  on  him  the  title  of  Duke  of  Shore- 
ditch.  This  title  was  long  afterwards  assumed  by  the  cap- 

*  "  The  parish  register  (within  a  period  of  sixty  years)  records  the  inter- 
ment of  the  following  celebrated  characters  : — Will  Somers,  Henry  the 
Eighth's  jester  (d.  1560) ;  Richard  Tarlton,  the  famous  clown  of  Queen 
Elizabeth's  time  (d.  1588)  ;  James  Burbage  (d.  1596),  and  his  more  cele- 
brated son,  Richard  Burbage  {d.  1618-19)  :  Gabriel  Spenser,  the  player, 
who  fell,  in  1598,  in  a  duel  with  Ben  Jonson  ;  William  Sly  and  Richard 
Cowley,  two  original  performers  in  Shakspeare's  plays  ;  the  Countess  of 
Rutland,  the  only  child  of  the  famous  Sir  Philip  Sidney  ;  Fortunatus  Greene, 
the  wwfortunate  offspring  of  Robert  Greene,  the  poet  and  player  (d.  1593). 
Another  original  performer  in  Shakspeare's  plays,  who  lived  in  Holywell 
Street,  in  this  parish,  was  Nicholas  Wilkinson,  alias  Tooley,  whose  name 
is  recorded  in  gilt  letters  on  the  north  side  of  the  altar  as  a  yearly  bene- 
factor of  £6  10s.  still  distributed  in  bread  every  year  to  the  poor  of  the 
parish,  to  whom  it  was  bequeathed." — Cunningham's  "London."  Art.  St. 
Leonard's,  Shoreditch. 

27—2 


420  HOXTON. 


tain  of  the  archers  of  London  at  their  festive  meetings  and 
trials  of  skill ;  his  partizans  or  supporters  at  the  same  time 
adopting  such  titles  as  Marquis  of  Islington,  Hoxton,  and 
other  ludicrous  appellations  of  honour.  It  may  be  men- 
tioned that  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth  the  archers 
of  London  numbered  no  fewer  than  three  thousand,  of  whom 
one  !  thousand  had  gold  chains.  Their  guard  consisted  of 
four  thousand  men,  besides  pages  and  henchmen;  their 
meetings,  which  usually  took  place  at  Smithfield,  being  con- 
ducted with  considerable  magnificence. 

During  the  raging  of  the  great  plague  in  1665,  there 
were  few  districts  in  London  which  suffered  more  severely 
than  Shoreditch  and  its  immediate  vicinity.  "  The  terror," 
writes  De  Foe,  "  was  so  great  at  last,  that  the  courage  of 
the  people  appointed  to  carry  away  the  dead  began  to  fail 
them;  nay,  several  of  them  died,  although  they  had  the 
distemper  before,  and  were  recovered,  and  some  of  them 
dropped  down  when  they  have  been  carrying  the  bodies, 
even  at  the  pitside,  and  just  ready  to  throw  them  in.  One 
cart,  they  told  us,  going  up  Shoreditch,  was  forsaken  of  the 
drivers,  and  being  left  to  one  man  to  drive,  he  died  in  the 
street,  and  the  horses  going  on,  overthrew  the  cart,  and  left 
the  bodies,  some  thrown  out  here,  some  there,  in  a  dismal 
manner." 

Close  to  Shoreditch  is  Hoxton,  wherein  still  stands  the 
mansion  of  Oliver,  third  Lord  St.  John  of  Bletsoe,  who  died 
in  1618.  It  was  in  Hoxton  Fields  that  Gabriel  Spenser,  the 
actor,  was  killed  in  a  duel  by  Ben  Jonson.  Spenser's  resi- 
dence was  in  Hog  Lane,  Norton  Folgate. 

On  the  east  side  of  Bishopsgate  Street  is  Spitalfields, 
which,  in  the  reign  of  James  the  First,  sprang  up  on  the  site 
of  some  fair  meadows  and  lanes,  known  as  the  Spital  Fields, 
but  which  now  comprise  one  of  the  most  crowded  districts 


SPITALF1ELDS.  421 


in  the  metropolis.  It  derives  its  name  from  the  priory  of 
St.  Mary  Spital,  founded  in  1197,  for  canons  regular  of  the 
order  of  St.  Augustine,  by  one  Walter  Brune,  citizen  of 
London,  and  Rosia,  his  wife.  At  the  dissolution  of  the 
monasteries  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  the  priory  of 
St.  Mary  Spital  shared  the  fate  of  the  other  religious  houses. 
For  centuries  its  holy  tenants  had  administered  to  the  wants 
of  the  sick  and  needy,  and  accordingly  thousands  wept  over 
its  demolition.  At  its  dissolution,  indeed,  it  was  found  to 
contain  no  fewer  than  one  hundred  and  eighty  beds,  which 
had  been  set  apart  for  poor  travellers  and  persons  in  sickness 
and  distress. 

The  old  priory  appears  to  have  stood  on  and  near  the  site 
of  the  present  White  Lion  Street.  Close  by,  at  the  north- 
east corner  of  Spital  Square,  stood  the  famous  Spifcal  pulpit 
or  cross,  where  for  nearly  three  centuries  sermons  were 
preached  three  times  during  Easter,  to  the  citizens  of  Lon- 
don, who  assembled  there  in  the  open  air.  On  these  occa- 
sions the  Lord  Mayor  and  Aldermen  never  failed  to  attend 
in  their  robes  of  state:  indeed,  in  such  repute  were  the 
"  Spital  Sermons  "  held  by  our  ancestors,  that  we  find  them 
frequented  in  great  state  both  by  Queen  Elizabeth  and  by 
her  successor,  James  the  First.  On  the  occasion  'of  the 
former  sovereign  visiting  Spital  Cross  in  April,  1559,  her 
guard  consisted  of  a  thousand  men  in  complete  armour,  who 
marched  to  the  sound  of  drum  and  trumpet ;  her  progress 
being  enlivened  by  the  grotesque  antics  of  moms-dancers, 
while  "  in  a  cart  were  two  white  bears."  The  Spital  Cross 
was  demolished  during  the  civil  troubles  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  First.  After  the  Restoration,  the  Spital  sermons 
were  preached  at  St.  Bride's,  Fleet  Street,  where  the  custom 
continued  to  prevail  till  within  the  last  sixty  years,  when  it 
was  transferred  to  Christ's  Church,  Newgate  Street.  Here 


422  EETHNAL  GREEN. 

they  are  still  attended  by  the  Lord  Mayor,  Aldermen,  and 
other  dignitaries  connected  with  the  principal  metropolitan 
charities. 

The  old  Spital  Fields  are  now  formed  into  a  number  of 
streets,  lanes,  and  alleys,  which  are  principally  inhabited  by 
the  artizans  employed  in  those  celebrated  silk  manufactures 
which  have  rendered  the  name  of  this  district  so  famous. 
Not  a  few  of  the  inhabitants  are  the  descendants  of  the 
unfortunate  Huguenots,  who  fled  from  France  in  1685,  to 
avoid  the  cruel  persecution  which  followed  the  revocation  of 
the  Edict  of  Nantes.  To  that  proscription,  as  impolitic  as  it 
was  barbarous,  we  owe  the  foundation  and  establishment  of 
silk  manufacture  in  England. 

Christchurch,  Spitalfields,  was  built  by  Nicholas  Hawks- 
more,  a  pupil  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren.  Here  was  the 
great  burial-place  of  the  Romans  for  persons  who  died  within 
the  walls  of  the  City.  We  learn  from  Granger,  that  in  Pel- 
ham  Street,  Spitalfields,  Milton's  granddaughter,  Mrs.  Foster, 
kept  a  chandler's  shop. 

The  celebrated  statesman,  Lord  Bolingbroke,  is  said  to 
have  resided  in  a  house  on  the  north  side  of  Spital  Square. 
In  the  immediate  neighbourhood,  too,  was  bom  the  great 
ecclesiastical  historian,  John  Strype. 

To  the  north-east  of  Spitalfields  is  Bethnal  Green,  anciently 
a  retired  hamlet,  comprising,  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  days,  a 
few  scattered  cottages  and  farm  houses,  which  surrounded 
the  episcopal  palace  of  the  merciless  Edmund  Bonner,  Bishop 
of  London,  from  whom  Bonner's  Fields  derive  their  name. 
The  church,  dedicated  to  St.  Matthew  the  Evangelist,  was 
erected  in  1740,  at  the  north-east  corner  of  Hare  Street, 
Spitalfields.  Three  years  afterwards,  this  district  having 
been  found  to  contain  a  population  of  as  many  as  fifteen 
thousand  inhabitants,  an  Act  of  Parliament  was  passed 


OLD  ARTILLERY  GROUND.  423 

for  forming   the  hamlet  of   Bethnal  Green  into  a  distinct 
parish. 

Pepys  writes  on  the  26th  of  June,  1663  : — "  By  coach  to 
Bednall-Green,  to  Sir  W.  Eider's  to  dinner.  A  fine  merry 
walk  with  the  ladies  alone  after  dinner  in  the  garden  :  the 
greatest  quantity  of  strawberries  I  ever  saw,  and  good.  This 
very  house  was  built  by  the  Blind  Beggar  of  Bednall-Green, 
so  much  talked  of  and  sung  in  ballads  ;  but  they  say  it  was 
•only  some  of  the  outhouses  of  it." 

"  It  was  a  blind  beggar,  had  long  lost  his  sight, 
He  had  a  fair  daughter  of  bewty  most  bright ; 
And  many  a  gallant  brave  suitor  had  shee, 
For  none  was  so  comelye  as  pretty  Bessee. 

And  though  she  was  of  favor  most  faire, 
Yett  seeing  shee  was  but  a  poor  beggar's  heyre, 
Of  ancyent  housekeepers  despised  was  shee, 
Whose  sonnes  came  as  suitors  to  pretty  Bessee. 
***** 

My  father,  shee  said,  is  soone  to  be  seene  ; 
The  seely  blind  beggar  of  Bednall-greene  ; 
That  daylye  sits  begging  for  charitie, 
He  is  the  good  father  of  pretty  Bessee. 

His  markes  and  his  tokens  are  known  very  well ; 
He  always  is  led  with  a  dog  and  a  bell ; 
A  seely  old  man,  God  knoweth  is  hee, 
Yett  hee  is  the  father  of  pretty  Bessee."  * 

Before  we  take  leave  of  this  remote  neighbourhood,  we 
must  not  omit  a  brief  mention  of  the  Old  Artillery  Ground, 
which  occupied  the  site  of  Duke  Street,  Steward  Street, 
Sun  Street,  and  other  adjacent  streets  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Spitalfields.  It  was  originally  known  by  the  designation 
of  Tasell's  Close,  from  having  been  anciently  a  spot  of 
ground  where  the  tassells  or  teazles,  used  in  the  manufac- 

*  "The  Beggar's  Daughter  of  Bednall-Green."  Percy's  Reliques,  vol. 
ii.,,p.  162. 


424  OLD  ARTILLERY  GROUND. 

ture  of  cloth,  were  cultivated.  Subsequently,  William,  the 
last  prior  of  St.  Mary  Spital,  granted  it  for  three  times  ninety- 
nine  years  to  the  fraternity  of  Artillery,  or  gunners  of  the 
Tower.  The  ground  was  laid  out  expressly  for  the  purpose 
of  proving  the  artillery,  for  gunnery  practice,  and  other 
military  purposes,  and  thus  obtained  the  name  of  the  Artil- 
lery Garden.  Stow  informs  us  that  in  his  time  the  gunners 
of  the  Tower  used  to  repair  hither  every  Thursday,  to  exer- 
cise their  great  artillery  against  a  mound  of  earth,  which 
served  as  a  butt.  In  1622,  the  Artillery  Company  removed 
to  an  area  on  the  west  side  of  Finsbury  Square,  which  thus 
obtained  the  name  of  the  new  Artillery  Ground.  It  was 
not,  however,  till  some  years  afterwards  that  the  old  Artil- 
lery Ground,  as  we  learn  from  Strype,  was  entirely  neglected. 
"In  the  afternoon,"  writes  Pepys,  on  the  20th  of  April, 
1669,  "we  walked  to  the  Old  Artillery  Ground,  Spitalfields, 
where  I  never  was  before,  but  now  by  Captain  Deane's 
invitation  did  go  to  see  his  new  gun  tried,  this  being  the 
place  where  the  officers  of  the  Ordnance  do  try  all  their 
great  guns."  Artillery  Lane  and  Fort  Street  still  remain  to 
point  out  the  immediate  site  of  the  old  Artillery  Ground. 


LONDON  WALL,  AUSTIN  FRIARS,  &c. 

ORIGINAL  EXTENT  OF  LONDON  WALL. — ITS  GATES.— THE  CITY  DITCH. — BROAD 
STREET. — AUSTIN  FRIARS. — MONUMENTS  THERE. — WINCHESTER  HOUSE. — 
FINSBURY  AND  MOORFIELDS. — BEDLAM. — MOORGATE  STREET. — NEW  ARTIL- 
LERY GROUND.  —  MILTON.  —  BUNHILL  ROW.  —  BUNHILL  FIELDS'  BURIAL 
GROUND. — CELEBRATED  PERSONS  BURIED  THERE. — GRUB  STREET. — HOOLE 
AND  DR.  JOHNSON. 

HAVING  retraced  our  steps  to  Bishopsgate  Street 
Within,  let  us  turn  down  the  long  and  narrow  street, 
called  London  Wall,  which  anciently  ran  parallel  with 
the  north  wall  of  the  City.  When  the  Romans,  in  the  fifth, 
century,  found  themselves  compelled  to  abandon  their  con- 
quests in  Britain,  they  left  London  encircled  by  a  wall 
twenty-two  feet  high,  and  measuring,  in  its  circuit  from  the 
Tower  to  Blackfriars,  two  miles  and  a  furlong  in  length.  In 
addition  to  two  principal  fortresses,  the  wall  was  defended 
by  thirteen  towers,  erected  at  advantageous  distances,  and 
supposed  to  have  been  about  forty  feet  in  height.  There  were 
originally  but  three  entrances  into  the  City ;  one  at  Aldgate 
on  the  east ;  another  near  Aldersgate  Street  on  the  north ; 
and  at  Ludgate  in  the  west.  At  later  periods  were  added 
Newgate,  Cripplegate,  Moorgate,  Bishopsgate,  and  the  Pos- 
tern on  Tower  Hill.  The  wall  commenced  at  the  Tower,  the 
principal  Homan  fortress  in  London.  Thence  it  ran  in  a 
straight  line  to  Aldgate,  where  it  commenced  a  semicircular 
route  by  the  Minories,  Houndsditch,  and  along  London  Wall 
to  Cripplegate.  Here  the  north  wall  terminated  nearly  in  an 


426  THE  CITY  DITCH. 

angle,  and,  taking  a  southerly  direction,  descended  by  way 
of  Aldersgate  and  Newgate  to  the  Thames,  where  it  united 
itself  with  another  Tower,  or  ATX  Palatina,  which  stood 
.a  little  to  the  east  of  Blackfriars  Bridge. 

Of  the  ancient  wall  erected  by  the  Romans,  several  frag- 
ments existed  within  the  last  hundred  years.  Pennant, 
writing  at  the  close  of  the  last  century,  observes,  "  On  the 
back  of  Bethlem  Hospital  is  a  long  street,  called  London 
Wall,  from  being  bounded  on  the  north  by  a  long  extent  of 
the  wall,  in  which  are  here  and  there  a  few  traces  of  the 
Roman  masonry."  The  most  perfect  remains  now  extant  of 
the  old  London  wall  are  in  an  unfrequented  and  gloomy  spot, 
the  churchyard  of  St.  Giles,  Cripplegate.  A  specimen  may 
also  be  seen  at  the  corner  of  a  narrow  passage  leading  from 
St.  Martin's  Court,  Ludgate  Hill. 

Between  the  period  of  the  erection  of  the  City  walls  by 
the  Romans  and  the  addition  of  the  City  Ditch,  no  fewer 
than  nine  hundred  years  were  allowed  to  elapse.  Both  were 
.stupendous  works.  The  one  was  commenced  about  the  year 
306,  during  the  reign  of  Constantius;  the  other  in  1211. 
The  ditch  had  originally  been  made  by  the  citizens  of  Lon- 
don at  their  own  expense  and  labour,  apparently  to  protect 
themselves  against  the  tyranny  and  aggressions  of  King 
John.  That  their  descendants  took  a  deep  interest  in  the 
work  of  their  forefathers,  is  evident  from  the  money  and 
labour  which  they  expended  for  nearly  three  centuries  in 
keeping  the  ditch  cleansed,  as  well  as  to  render  it  available 
for  military  purposes.  As  late  as  the  days  of  Stow  it  was 
famous  for  the  quantity  of  perch  and  carp  with  which  it 
provided  the  tables  of  the  wealthy  citizens.  The  old  anti- 
quary, however,  lived  to  bewail  the  destruction  of  this  inte- 
resting relic  of  the  feudal  times.  The  last  outlay  of  money 
which  was  expended  on  the  City  Ditch  was  in  1595,  not 


AUSTIN  FRIARS.  427 


many  years  after  which  it  was  covered  with  buildings.  Not 
a  trace  of  it,  we  believe,  is  now  in  existence. 

Passing  along  London  Wall,  on  the  left  is  Broad  Street, 
where,  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  stood  the  London 
mansion  of  Gilbert,  Earl  of  Salisbury.  Here,  in  the  following 
century,  was  an  establishment  for  the  manufacture  of  Vene- 
tian glass,  of  which  James  Hpwell,  the  author  of  the 
""Familiar  Letters,"  was  steward.  Here  also  it  was  that 
General  Monk  quartered  himself  immediately  before  he 
declared  in  favour  of  the  Restoration.  According  to  White- 
locke,  Monk  was  followed  thither  by  a  multitude  of  people 
who  "  congratulated  his  coming  into  the  City,  making  loud 
shouts  and  bonfires,  and  ringing  the  bells." 

Broad  Street  leads  us  into  Austin  Friars.  Here  formerly 
stood  a  Priory  of  Mendicant,  or  Begging  Friars,  founded  in 
1253  by  Humphrey  de  Bohun,  Earl  of  Hereford  and  Essex, 
and  dedicated  to  St.  Augustin,  Bishop  of  Hippo  in  Africa. 
At  its  dissolution  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  the 
greater  part  of  the  ground  on  which  it  stood  was  granted  by 
that  monarch  to  William,  first  Marquis  of  Winchester,  his 
Comptroller  of  the  Household  and  Lord  High  Treasurer. 
All  that  remains  of  the  old  Priory  is  the  church,  which  was 
granted  by  Edward  the  Sixth  to  a  congregation  of  Germans 
.and  other  foreigners  who  had  emigrated  to  England  to 
escape  from  religious  persecution.  Succeeding  monarchs 
confirmed  it  to  the  Dutch,  by  whom  it  is  still  used  as  a 
place  of  worship,  being  usually  known  by  the  appellation  of 
the  Dutch  Church. 

Beautiful  as  are  the  remains  of  the  old  Priory  Church, 
there  is  no  religious  edifice  in  London  which  has  suffered 
more  cruelly  from  time  and  neglect.  Its  magnificent  tombs, 
as  well  as  its  exquisite  spire,  considered  the  "  beautifullest 
-and  rarest  spectacle"  in  the  metropolis,  have  entirely  disap- 


428  CHURCH  OF  ST.  AUGUST  IN. 

peared.  Nevertheless,  the  number  of  the  illustrious  and  ill- 
fated  dead  who  rest  beneath  our  feet  will  always  render  the 
church  of  St.  Augustin  a  most  interesting  spot.  Here  lies 
the  pious  founder  of  the  Priory,  Humphrey  de  Bohun,  who 
stood  godfather  at  the  font  for  Edward  the  First,  and,  who 
afterwards  fought  against  Henry  the  Third  with  the  leagued 
Barons  at  the  battle  of  Evesham.  Here  were  interred  the 
remains  of  the  great  Hubert  de  Burgh,  Earl  of  Kent,  the 
most  powerful  subject  in  Europe  during  the  reigns  of  King 
John  and  Henry  the  Third,  and  no  less  celebrated  for  his 
chequered  and  romantic  fortunes."*  Here  rests  Edmund, 
son  of  Joan  Plantagenet,  "  the  Fair  Maid  of  Kent,"  and  half- 
brother  to  Richard  the  Second.  Here  lies  the  headless  trunk 
of  the  gallant  Richard  Fitzalan,  tenth  Earl  of  Arundel,  who 
was  executed  at  Cheapside  in  1397.  Here  also  rest  the 
mangled  remains  of  the  Barons  who  fell  at  the  battle  of 
Barnet  in  1471,  and  who  were  interred  together  in  the  body 
of  the  church  ;  of  John  de  Vere,  twelfth  Earl  of  Oxford,  who 
was  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill  with  his  eldest  son,  Aubrey,  in 
1461 ;  and,  lastly,  of  the  gallant  and  princely  Edward  Staf- 
ford, Duke  of  Buckingham — "  poor  Edward  Bohun" — who, 
having  fallen  a  victim  to  the  vindictive  jealousy  of  Cardinal 
Wolsey,  was  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill  in  1521. 

To  the  memory  of  these  ill-fated  persons,  as  well  as  to 
many  others  conspicuous  in  their  day  for  rank,  beauty,  or 
genius,  St.  Augustin's  could  formerly  boast  of  monuments 
more  numerous  and  sumptuous  than  those  of  any  other 
church  in  London.  To  the  cupidity,  however,  of  the  second 
Marquis  of  Winchester,  who  converted  the  old  church  into 
a  lumber  warehouse,  and  sold  the  tombs  to  the  highest 
bidder,  we  owe  this  shameful  desecration  of  the  dead,  as 
well  as  the  destruction  of  so  much  that  was  beautiful  in  art. 

*  For  an  account  of  this  remarkable  man,  see  p.  92,  ante. 


WINCHESTER  STREET.  429 

Behind  the  Dutch  Church,  close  to  London  Wall,  stood  the 
"  Papey,"  founded  in  1430  for  a  fraternity  of  poor  infirm 
priests  of  the  order  of  St.  Charity  and  St.  John  the  Evange- 
list. They  were  skilled  in  singing  funeral  dirges;  their 
principal  occupation  consisting  in  attending  the  burials  of 
the  rich,  from  which  circumstance  they  were  styled  pleureurs, 
weepers,  or  mourners,  and  in  this  capacity  are  frequently  re- 
presented on  the  sides  of  ancient  monuments.  The  house  of 
the  Papeys  subsequently  became  the  residence  of  Sir  Francis 
Walsingham. 

In  1621,  when  the  great  Earl  of  Strafford  first  obtained  a 
seat  in  Parliament  as  representative  for  the  county  of  York, 
it  was  in  Austin  Friars  that  he  took  up  his  residence  with 
his  young  children  and  with  that  fair  wife  whom  he  lost  by 
death  the  following  year,  and  to  whom  he  so  touchingly 
alluded  as  a  "  saint  in  Heaven"  at  his  famous  trial-scene  in 
Westminster  Hall.  In  Austin  Friars  also  died,  in  July, 
1776,  in  his  seventieth  year,  James  Hey  wood,  who  more 
than  sixty  years  previously  had  been  one  of  the  popular 
writers  in  the  "  Spectator."  He  is  said  to  have  originally 
been  a  wholesale  linendraper  on  Fish  Street  Hill.  The  late 
James  Smith,  one  of  the  authors  of  the  "  Rejected  Addresses," 
lived  at  No.  18,  Austin  Friars,  previously  to  his  removal  to 
Craven  Street,  Strand,  where  he  died. 

Adjoining  Austin  Friars  is  Winchester  Street,  which,  with 
its  picturesque  gable-ends,  and  its  general  appearance  of 
antiquity,  afforded  till  within  a  few  years  a  better  notion  of 
the  aspect  of  a  London  street  in  the  days  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
than  perhaps  any  other  street  in  the  metropolis.  Here  stood 
the  London  residence  of  the  Paulets,  Marquises  of  Win- 
chester. It  was  built  by  the  first  Marquis,  who  was  also  the 
founder  of  Basing  House.  This  remarkable  man  died  in 
1572,  in  his  ninety-seventh  year,  leaving  at  his  death  no 


430  WINCHESTER  HOUSE. 

fewer  than  one  hundred  and  three  persons  who  were  imme- 
diately descended  from  him.  He  had  lived  under  the  reign 
of  nine  sovereigns,  his  birth  having  taken  place  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  the  Sixth,  and  his  death  in  that  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 
Being  asked  by  what  means  he  had  contrived  to  maintain 
himself  in  favour  and  power  under  so  many  reigns  and 
during  so  many  political  tempests,  his  significant  reply  was — 
"  By  being  a  willow,  and  not  an  oak." 

Winchester  House,  at  the  period  of  its  demolition  in  1839, 
was  one  of  the  most  interesting  specimens  of  the  dwelling- 
houses  of  the  ancient  nobility  which  remained  in  London.  It 
continued  to  be  in  the  possession  of  the  Paulets  till  the 
reign  of  James  the  First,  when  William,  the  fourth  Marquis, 
became  so  impoverished  by  his  magnificent  style  of  living  as 
to  be  compelled  to  dispose  of  it  for  the  payment  of  his  debts. 
It  appears  to  have  then  been  purchased  by  John  Swinnerton, 
a  rich  merchant,  afterwards  Lord  Mayor  of  London.  When, 
shortly  before  their  demolition,  we  bade  farewell  to  apart- 
ments which  had  entertained  Elizabeth  and  her  stately 
courtiers,  we  found  them  the  scene  of  busy  trade,  and  were 
informed  by  their  owner  that  the  old  house  had  been  in  the 
possession  of  his  ancestors  for  about  two  centuries.  Not- 
withstanding this  long  lapse  of  time,  on  many  of  the  win- 
dows were  stilt  to  be  seen,  in  stained  glass,  the  motto  of  the 
Paulets,  "  Aimez  Loyaulttf."  This  circumstance  was  rendered 
the  more  interesting,  from  the  well-known  incident  of  the 
gallant  Marquis  of  Winchester,  during  his  glorious  defence 
of  Basing  House,  having  engraved  this  motto  of  his  family 
with  a  diamond  pencil  on  every  window  in  the  mansion. 
Probably  it  was  the  early  recollection  of  this  peculiar  feature 
in  the  London  residence  of  his  forefathers  which  suggested 
to  the  heroic  Marquis  the  idea  of  inscribing  the  same  words 
on  the  windows  of  the  besieged  mansion. 


F1NSB UR  Y  AND  MOORFIELDS.  431 

It  was  in  the  apartments  of  her  mother,  the  Countess  of 
Cumberland,  in  "  Austin  Friars  House,"  that  Anne  Clifford — 
memorable  for  her  haughty  reply  to  the  minister  of  Charles 
the  Second — was  married  to  her  first  husband,  Richard,  third 
Earl  of  Dorset,  on  the  25th  of  February,  1608-9. 

Nearly  at  the  end  of  Little  Winchester  Street  is  the 
church  of  Allhallows  in  the  Wall.  It  escaped  the  ravages 
of  the  great  fire,  but  having  fallen  into  a  ruinous  state  was 
taken  down  in  1764,  when  the  present  edifice  was  erected 
by  the  younger  Dance  on  its  site.  In  the  chancel  may  be 
seen  a  tablet  to  the  memory  of  the  Rev.  William  Beloe,  the 
translator  of  "  Herodotus,"  who  died  in  1817,  after  having 
held  the  rectory  of  the  parish  for  twenty  years. 

The  ground  to  the  north  of  London  Wall — comprising 
Finsbury  Circus,  Little  Moorfields,  Finsbury  Square,  &c. — 
consisted,  as  late  as  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  of  large 
fenny  pastures,  known  as  Moor  Fields  and  Fensbury.  The 
dog-house,  in  which  were  kept  the  hounds  of  the  Lord 
Mayors  of  London,  stood  on  the  east  side.  On  the  west 
was  to  be  seen  the  manor-house  of  Finsbury,  while,  to  the 
north,  three  or  four  scattered  windmills  were  the  only  ob- 
jects which  diversified  the  scene. 

Not  only  as  far  back  as  the  twelfth  century  were  Finsbury 
and  Moorfields  favourite  places  of  recreation  for  the  citizens 
of  London,  but  so  late  as  the  days  of  Charles  the  Second  we 
find  Shadwell  and  Pepys  severally  speaking  of  the  cudgel- 
play  and  wrestling-matches  in  Moorfields.  Heath  in  his 
"  Chronicle  "  tells  us  that  from  "  time  out  of  mind  "  it  had 
been  the  scene  of  wrestling-matches,  and  throwing  the  bar, 
to  which  sports  we  may  add  those  of  archery,  boxing,  foot- 
races, foot-ball,  and  every  kind  of  manly  recreation.  Skating 
has  generally  been  supposed  to  have  been  first  introduced 
into  England  by  Charles  the  Second  on  his  return  from 


432  FINSBURY  AND  MOORFIELDS. 

exile ;  and  yet  there  is  a  curious  passage  in  Fitzstephen — 
the  earliest  historian  of  London — which  shows  that  the 
art,  or  at  least  something  very  nearly  approaching  to  it, 
was  practised  by  the  citizens  of  London  as  early  as 
the  twelfth  century.  Speaking  of  the  pastimes  on  the 
ice  in  Moorfields,  he  writes : — "  Others  there  are  more  ex- 
pert in  these  amusements ;  they  place  certain  bones,  the 
leg  bones  of  animals,  under  the  soles  of  their  feet,  by  tying 
them  round  their  ankles,  and  then,  taking  a  pole  shod  with 
iron  into  their  hands,  they  push  themselves  forward  by 
striking  it  against  the  ice,  and  are  carried  on  with  a  velocity 
equal  to  the  flight  of  a  bird,  or  a  bolt  discharged  from  a  cross- 
bow." The  piece  of  water  on  which  the  citizens  of  London 
performed  their  pastimes  is  spoken  of  by  Fitzstephen  as 
"  the  Great  Fen  or  Moor  which  watereth  the  walls  of  the 
City  on  the  north  side." 

It  was  in  Finsbury  Fields,  on  his  return  after  his  exploits 
in  Scotland,  that  the  great  Protector,  Duke  of  Somerset, 
was  met  and  congratulated  by  the  Lord  Mayor,  Aldermen, 
and  citizens  of  London.  According  to  the  chronicler  Holin- 
shed — "  The  Mayor  and  Aldermen,  with  certain  of  the  Com- 
mons, in  their  liveries  and  their  hoods,  hearing  of  his  ap- 
proach to  the  City,  the  eighth  of  October  (1548),  met  him  in 
Finsbury  Fields,  where  he  took  each  of  them  by  the  hand, 
and  thanked  them  for  their  good  wills.  The  Lord  Mayor 
did  ride  with  him  till  they  came  to  the  pond  in  Smithfield, 
where  his  Grace  left  them  and  rode  to  his  house  of  Shene 
that  night,  and  the  next  day  to  the  King  to  Hampton 
Court."* 

Finsbury,   notwithstanding  the   marshy  nature    of   the 
ground,  appears  to  have  contained  some  sunny  and  pleasant 
spots.      "Morefield,"   on  the   contrary,  is   mentioned   as  a 
*  Holinshed's  "Chronicle,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  889. 


MOORFIELDS.  433 


"most  noysome  and  offensive  place,  being  a  general  lay- 
stall, a  rotten  morish  ground,  whereof  it  first  took  the 
name."  "  This  field,"  writes  Stow,  "  was  for  many  years 
environed  and  crossed  with  deep  stinking  ditches,  and  noy- 
some common  sewers,  and  was  of  former  times  ever  held 
impossible  to  be  reformed,  especially  to  be  reduced  to  any 
part  of  that  fair,  sweet,  and  pleasant  condition  as  now  it  is." 
So  wretched  indeed  was  the  state  of  Moorfields  in  the  days 
of  Edward  the  Second,  that  travellers  could  only  pass  over 
it  on  causeways.  The  draining  and  improvement  of  this 
"  noysome  and  offensive  place"  was  commenced  in  1527. 
In  the  early  part  of  the  reign  of  James  the  First  we  find  it 
converted  into  "  new  and  pleasant  walks,"  and  as  it  was  in 
the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  the  residences  of  many  of 
the  nobility  and  most  wealthy  citizens,  it  soon  became  the 
most  fashionable  promenade  in  the  north-east  of  London. 
As  late  as  the  last  century,  the  spot  of  ground  in  front  of 
old  Bethlehem  Hospital  —  divided  by  gravel-walks,  and 
planted  with  elm-trees — was  so  favourite  a  resort  of  the 
fashionable  citizens  as  to  obtain  for  it  the  distinguishing 
appellation  of  the  "  City  Mall." 

In  Moorfields  was  dug  another  of  those  frightful  plague- 
pits  which  received  the  victims  of  the  giant  pestilence  in 
1665.  Defoe,  speaking  of  these  numerous  receptacles  of  tho 
dead,  observes — "  Besides  these,  there  was  a  piece  of  ground 
in  Moorfields,  by  the  going  into  the  street  which  is  now 
called  Old  Bethlehem,  which  was  enlarged  much,  though 
not  wholly  taken  in  on  the  same  occasion." 

Another  gigantic  burial-place  in  this  vicinity  was  dug 
nearly  on  the  site  of  the  present  Windmill  Street;  no 
fewer  than  one  thousand  cart-loads  of  human  bones  having 
been  removed  hither  when  the  Duke  of  Somerset  pulled 
down  the  charnel-house  and  other  buildings  attached  to 

VOL.  ii.  28 


434  BETHLEHEM  HOSPITAL. 

St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  in  order  to  obtain  materials  for  his 
new  palace  in  the  Strand. 

Bedlam,  or  rather  Bethlehem  Hospital,  dedicated  to  St. 
Mary  of  Bethlehem,  and  formerly  situated  in  Moorfields,  was 
originally  an  hospital  or  priory,  founded  in  1246  by  Simon 
Fitz-Mary,  Sheriff  of  London,  for  the  reception  and  cure  of 
lunatics.  It  stood  originally  between  the  east  side  of  Moor-- 
fields and  Bishopsgate  Street,  and  consisted  of  a  prior, 
canons,  brethren,  and  sisters,  who  dressed  in  a  black  habit, 
and  were  distinguished  by  a  star  on  their  breasts.  In  the 
churchyard  of  the  Hospital  was  interred  Robert  Greene, 
the  celebrated  wit  and  dramatic  writer  of  the  reign  of  Eliza- 
beth. According  to  Anthony  Wood,  he  died  after  a  short 
life  of  riot  and  dissipation,  of  a  surfeit  brought  on  by  too 
free  an  indulgence  in  pickled  herrings  and  Rhenish  wine. 
Here  also  was  interred  the  stern  republican,  John  Lilburne, 
who  died  in  1657. 

The  old  building  having  fallen  into  a  ruinous  state,  in 
1675  the  Corporation  of  London  granted  a  plot  of  ground 
on  the  south  side  of  Moorfields  for  the  erection  of  a  larger 
and  more  commodious  hospital.  Large  sums  were  raised  by 
public  subscription,  and  in  1675  the  new  hospital  was  erected 
at  an  expense  of  £17,000.  It  was  built  on  the  plan  of  the 
palace  of  the  Tuileries  at  Paris ;  a  circumstance  which  so 
deeply  offended  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  that  he  is  said  to 
have  ordered  a  plan  to  be  taken  of  St.  James's  Palace,  with 
the  intention  of  making  it  the  model  of  a  building  to  be 
adapted  to  the  vilest  purposes. 

Bethlehem,  in  the  form  in  which  it  stood  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  present  century,  presented  an  imposing  appear- 
ance, being  five  hundred  feet  long  and  forty  broad.  Not  the 
least  striking  objects  which  distinguished  its  exterior  were 
the  famous  statues  over  the  gates,  of  raving  and  melancholy 


MOORGATE  STREET.  435 

madness,  the  work  of  Caius  Gabriel  Gibber,  the  father  of  the 
comedian  and  poet  laureate,  Colley  Gibber. 

"  Where  o'er  the  gates,  by  his  famed  father's  hand, 
Great  Gibber's  brazen  brainless  brothers  stand."* — The  Dunciad. 

In  1814 — partly  on  account  of  its  dilapidated  state,  and 
partly  from  the  site  being  required  for  some  projected  im- 
provements in  Moorfields — Bethlehem  Hospital  was  taken 
down  and  the  establishment  removed  to  St.  George's  Fields, 
Lambeth. 

On  the  north  side  of  Moorfields,  opposite  to  Bethlehem, 
stood  formerly  the  hospital  of  St.  Luke.  Having  been  found 
too  small,  however,  for  the  purposes  for  which  it  was  in- 
tended, it  was  taken  down  and  superseded  by  the  present 
extensive  building  in  Old  Street  Koad,  erected  in  1784  at  an 
expense  of  £55,000. 

Kunning  out  of  London  Wall,  nearly  opposite  to  Little 
Moorfields,  is  Moorgate  Street,  the  site  of  an  old  postern 
gate  in  the  City  wall,  opened  in  1415,  by  Thomas  Falconer, 
Lord  Mayor  of  London,  for  the  convenience  of  the  citizens. 
"  The  Lord  Mayor,"  says  Stow,  "  caused  the  wall  of  the  City 
to  be  broken  near  unto  Coleman  Street,  and  built  a  postern, 
now  called  Moorgate,  upon  the  Moor  side,  where  was  never 
gate  before.  This  gate  he  made  for  the  ease  of  the  citizens, 
that  way  to  pass  upon  causeways  into  the  fields  for  their 
recreation."  Close  to  Moorgate  was  born,  on  the  4th  of 

*  These  statues  are  preserved  in  the  vestibule  of  the  present  Hospital  in 
St.  George's  Fields.  One  of  them,  it  is  said,  was  intended  to  represent 
Oliver  Cromwell's  gigantic  porter,  who  was  long  confined  in  Bethlehem.  It 
may  be  remarked,  that  they  are  not  brazen,  but  of  Portland  stone.  They 
were  painted,  in  order  to  protect  them  from  the  weather,  and  were  probably 
originally  of  a  bronze  colour,  for  which  white  has  since  been  substituted. 
For  an  interesting  account  of  that  singular  race  of  licensed  mendicants,  the 
Tom  o'  Bedlams,  see  D'Israeli'a  "Curiosities  of  Literature,"  pp.  285  2S6 
ed.  1839. 

28—2 


436  ARTILLERY  GROUND. 

February,  1693,  the  well-known  dramatic  writer,  George 
Lillo,  the  author  of  "  George  Bamwell,"  and  of  "  The  Fatal 
Curiosity." 

Almost  adjoining  Finsbury  Square  is  the  New  Artillery 
Ground,  of  which  mention  has  already  been  made.  Close 
by  was  a  most  interesting  spot — Artillery  Walk,  Bunhill 
Fields — containing  the  house  in  which  Milton  completed 
his  "  Paradise  Lost,"  and  in  which  he  breathed  his  last  in 
November,  1674.  The  site  is  pointed  out  by  the  present 
Artillery  Place,  Bunhill  Row.  Milton's  nephew  and  bio- 
grapher, Phillips,  informs  us  that  during  the  time  the  great 
poet  lived  in  Artillery  Walk,  he  used,  in  fine  summer 
weather,  to-  sit  at  the  door  of  his  house,  habited  in  a  coarse 
grey  cloth  cloak,  and  in  this  manner  received  the  visits  of 
persons  of  rank  and  genius,  who  came  either  to  pay  homage 
to  him  or  to  enjoy  his  conversation.  A  Dr.  Wright,  a  cler- 
gyman of  Dorsetshire,  informed  Phillips  that  he  once  paid 
a  visit  to  the  blind  poet  in  Artillery  Walk.  He  found 
him  in  a  small  apartment  on  the  first  floor,  where  he  was 
seated  in  an  elbow-chair,  neatly  dressed  in  a  black  suit. 
His  face  was  pale,  but  not  cadaverous.  He  was  suffering 
much  from  gout,  and  especially  from  chalk-stones,  yet  he 
told  Dr.  Wright  that  were  it  not  for  the  pain  he  endured 
his  blindness  would  be  tolerable.  It  was  in  this  house  that 
he  was  visited  by  Dryden.  Aubrey  tells  us  :  "  John  Dryden, 
Esq.,  Poet  Laureate,  who  very  much  admired  him,  went  to 
him  to  have  leave  to  put  his  '  Paradise  Lost '  into  a  drama 
in  rhyme.  Mr.  Milton  received  him  civilly,  and  told  him 
he  would  give  him  leave  to  tagge  his  verses." 

On  the  west  side  of  the  Artillery  Ground  is  Bunhill  Row, 
forming  a  part  of  the  site  of  the  old  Bunhill  Fields.  Close 
by  stood  one  of  the  principal  pest-houses  during  the  raging 
of  the  great  plague.  Here,  too,  was  dug  another  of  those 


BUN  HILL  ROW.  437 


frightful  plague-pits  of  which  Defoe  has  given  us  so  harrow- 
ing a  description.  "  I  have  heard,"  he  says,  "  that  in  a  great 
pit  in  Finsbury,  in  the  parish  of  Cripplegate — it  lying  open, 
to  the  fields,  for  it  was  not  then  walled  about — many  who 
were  infected  and  near  their  end,  and  delirious  also,  ran, 
wrapt  in  blankets  or  rags,  and  threw  themselves  in  and  ex- 
pired there,  before  any  earth  could  be  thrown  upon  them. 
When  they  came  to  bury  others  and  found  them,  they  were 
quite  dead,  though  not  cold."  The  spot  was  shortly  after- 
wards walled  in,  and  became  the  principal  burial-place  of  the 
dissenters  in  London.  Anthony  Wood  speaks  of  it  as  the 
"  fanatical  burying-place,  called  by  some,  Tindals'  burying- 
place."  It  is  now  known  as  the  "  Bunhill  Fields  Burial 
Ground."  Here,  in  1688,  was  interred  John  Bunyan,  author 
of  the  "Pilgrim's  Progress,"  whose  memory,  according  to 
Southey,  was  held  in  such  high  veneration  that  "  many  are 
said  to  have  made  it  their  desire  to  be  interred  as  near  as 
possible  to  the  "spot  where  his  remains  are  deposited."  Here 
also  were  interred  Dr.  Thomas  Goodwin,  the  popular  Inde- 
pendent preacher,  who  attended  Oliver  Cromwell  on  his 
death-bed,  and  who  died  in  1679 ;  Charles  Fleetwood,  the 
celebrated  Parliamentary  General,  and  son-in-law  to  Oliver 
Cromwell,  who  died  in  1692 ;  Dr.  Isaac  Watts,  the  author  of 
the  Hymns,  who  died  in  1748;  Joseph  Ritson,  the  collector 
of  our  early  national  poetry,  who  died  in  a  mad-house  at 
Hoxton,  in  1803;  and  Thomas  Stothard,  the  royal  academi- 
cian, who  died  in  1834.  Lastly,  let  us  not  omit  to  mention 
that  here — close  to  the  plague-pit,  the  horrors  of  which  his 
pen  has  so  vividly  described — lies  buried  Daniel  Defoe,  the 
author  of  "Robinson  Crusoe."  The  spot  was  selected  by 
him  in  his  lifetime,  being  close  to  the  grave  of  his  sister, 
who  had  died  a  few  years  previously.* 

*  For  further  particulars  respecting  this  interesting  burial-ground,  see 
Cunningham's  "London,"  vol.  i.,  p.  151. 


438  GRUB  STREET. 


In  a  neighbouring  burial-ground  belonging  to  the  Society 
of  Friends  lie  the  remains  of  their  celebrated  founder,  George 
Fox,  who  died  in  1690. 

In  Old  Street,  "  near  London,"  lived  Samuel  Daniel,  the 
poet  and  historian.  His  residence  consisted  of  a  small  house 
and  garden,  where  he  lived  in  comparative  retirement,  and 
where  he  composed  most  of  his  dramatic  pieces.  In  this 
street  also,  in  1763,  died  the  celebrated  George  Psalmanazer. 

Within  a  short  distance  from  Old  Street,  stood  Grub 
Street,  now  Milton  Street,  the  supposititious  residence  of 
needy  authors,  and  so  often  the  subject  of  ridicule  and  satire 
both  in  prose  and  verse,  as  almost  to  be  rendered  classic 
ground.* 

"  A  spot  near  Cripplegate  extends  ; 

Grub  Street  'tis  called,  the  modern  Pindus, 
Where  (but  that  bards  are  never  friends) 
Bards  might  shake  hands  from  adverse  windows." 

JAMES  SMITH. 

In  this  street  lived  John  Fox,  author  of  the  "  Book  of 
Martyrs."  Here  also,  according  to  Pennant,  lived  and  died 
the  "  very  remarkable  Henry  Welby,  Esq.,  of  Lincolnshire, 
who  lived  in  his  house  in  this  street  forty -four  years,  with- 
out ever  being  seen  by  any  human  being."  He  was  a  man 
possessed  of  large  property,  but  his  brother  having  made  an 
attempt  to  kill  him,  it  produced  such  an  effect  on  his  mind 
that  he  determined  to  seclude  himself  entirely  from  the 
world.  For  nearly  half  a  century  all  that  was  known  of  him 
were  his  extensive  and  munificent  charities.  He  died  on  the 
29th  of  October,  1636.f 

*  "Grub  Street,  n.  s.,  originally  the  name  of  a  street  near  Moorfields,  in 
London,  much  inhabited  by  writers  of  small  histories,  dictionaries,  and 
temporary  poems,  whence  any  mean  production  is  called  Grub  Street." — 
JOHNSON'S  "Dictionary." 

"  Let  Budgell  charge  low  Grub  Street  with  his  quill." — POPE. 
"  I'd  sooner  ballads  write,  and  Grub  Street  lays." — GAT. 
1*  For  a  more  detailed  account  of  this  eccentric  person,  see  the  "Phoenix 
Britannicus,"  p.  369. 


GRUB  STREET.  439 


In  Moorfields  was  born  John  Hoole,  the  translator  of 
Tasso  and  Metastasio,  and  in  Grub  Street  he  received 
his  education.  Happening  to  mention  the  latter  circum- 
stance when  in  company  with  Dr.  Johnson, — "Sir,"  said 
Johnson,  "you  have  been  regularly  educated."  Johnson 
having  inquired  who  was  his  instructor,  and  Hoole  having 
answered — "  My  uncle,  sir,  who  was  a  tailor,"  Johnson,  re- 
collecting himself,  said,  "  Sir,  I  knew  him ;  we  called  him 
the  metaphysical  tailor;  he  was  of  a  club  in  Old  Street, 
with  me  and  George  Psalmanazer  and  some  others :  but  pray, 
sir,  was  he  a  good  tailor  ?"  Hoole  having  replied  that  he 
believed  he  was  too  mathematical,  and  used  to  draw  squares 
and  triangles  on  his  shop-board,  so  that  he  did  not  excel  in 
the  cut  of  a  coat — "  I  am  sorry  for  it,"  said  Johnson,  "  for  I 
would  have  every  man  to  be  master  of  his  own  business." 
Boswell  informs  us  that  from  this  period  Dr.  Johnson  used 
frequently  to  jest  with  Hoole  on  his  literary  connection  with 
Grub  Street.  "  Sir,"  he  used  often  to  say,  "  let  you  and  I 
go  together  and  eat  a  beef-steak  in  Grub  Street." 


END   OF  VOL.   II. 


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