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POPULAR 
 
 History of London 
 
 by 
 
 WILLIAM H. RIDEING 
 
 FULLY ILLUSTRATED 
 
 SEP 29 1894 
 
 
 BOSTON 
 ESTES AND LAURIAT 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 

 Copyright, 1884, 1894, 
 By Estes and Lauriat. 
 
 (Hnibrvsitu Press: 
 
 John Wilson and Son, Camhridgi 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 There are many books about London, and I have used 
 them so freely, that the preparation of this addition to thei~ 
 number has been to some extent a work of abridgment and 
 selection rather than one of research or original expression. 
 In writing about the London of Shakespeare, I have made 
 excerpts from the gossipy little volume by Edwin Goadby ; 
 in referring to Sir Richard Whittington, I have depended on 
 the recent concise and excellent life of that worthy by Mr. 
 Walter Besant, — a biography which has transformed the 
 great Lord Mayor from a shadow of tradition into a definite 
 personage ; in endeavoring to picture the old 'Prentice boys, 
 I have quoted from the " Fortunes of Nigel," believing that 
 as far as the background is concerned, Scott's story is more 
 graphic than any other account of these demonstrative young 
 citizens, and at the same time historically accurate ; in speak- 
 ing of London as it was during the reigns of Charles the 
 First and Charles the Second, I have dipped into Macaulay's 
 splendid History ; and in relation to the Plague, I have done 
 little more than condense the picturesque Journal of Daniel 
 Defoe. 
 
 Portions of Mrs. Newton Crosland's " Stories of the City 
 of London " have been used in several chapters, and I have 
 
iv Preface. 
 
 supplemented a condensation of her account of the " No- 
 Popery " Riots of Lord George Gordon with extracts from 
 the brilliant narrative of those disturbances given by Dickens 
 in " Barnaby Rudge." Among the works of reference 
 which have been invaluable to me throughout my task, 
 I must mention the six volumes of " Old and New Lon- 
 don," by Walter Thornbury and Edward Walford ; " Curi- 
 osities of London," by John Timbs ; " Walks about London," 
 by Augustus Hare ; the Dictionaries of London and of the 
 Thames edited by the younger Dickens ; Pascoe's " London 
 Directory for American Travellers," and the comprehensive 
 description of London edited by Charles Knight. Knight's 
 " London," and the similar work by Messrs. Thornbury 
 and Walford, have been of greater service to me than any 
 others. 
 
 I have also made use of " London, Past and Present," 
 a little book issued by Blackwood ; the " Story of the Lon- 
 don Parks," by Jacob Larvvood ; Pauli's " Pictures of Old 
 England ; " the " Life and Times of Sir Thomas Gresham," 
 by John William Burgon ; " Londoniana," by Edward Wal- 
 ford ; " The City," by William Gilbert ; " Lombard Street," 
 by Walter Bagehot : " Every-day Life in Our Public Schools," 
 by C. E. Pascoe ; the " Short History of England " and the 
 " Making of England," by J. R. Green ; " Banks and Bank- 
 ers," by Frederick Martin ; Macaulay's " Miscellaneous 
 Essays ; " Herbert's " History of the City Companies ; " 
 Riley's " Memorials of London ; " the " History of London," 
 by Thomas Allen, and the "History and Survey of Lon- 
 don," by William Maitland. 
 
 Having made these acknowledgments, I offer the little 
 book to the reader for his kindly judgment, believing that 
 
Preface. v 
 
 if he is a student sitting by his own fireside it will give him 
 a clear and succinct view of the history of a City which has 
 been called "the heart, the centre of the living world; " and 
 that should it be his good fortune to visit the great me- 
 tropolis, the volume will prove an interesting companion to 
 him in his walks along the famous streets and historic 
 by-ways. 
 
 WILLIAM H. RIDEING. 
 Boston, Mass. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. 
 I. 
 
 II. 
 
 III. 
 
 IV. 
 
 V. 
 
 VI. 
 
 VII. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 IX. 
 
 X. 
 
 XL 
 
 XII. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 XV. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 From the Earliest Time to the Reign of Henry 
 
 the Third n 
 
 In the Reigns of Edward the Third and Rich- 
 
 .ard the Second 29 
 
 From 1450 to 1559 47 
 
 In Shakespeare's Time 57 
 
 The 'Prentice Boys of London ....... 73 
 
 London under the Stuarts 81 
 
 The Plague 109 
 
 The Great Fire 121 
 
 In the Reign of Queen Anne 131 
 
 The Gordon Riots 141 
 
 Improved London 161 
 
 London Bridge 189 
 
 A Trip on the River 199 
 
 The Tower 217 
 
 The Lord Mayors of London 243 
 
 Richard Whittington 265 
 
 The Trade-Guilds of London ....... 277 
 
 The Bank of England 317 
 
 The Royal Exchange 2>37 
 
 Temple Bar and its Neighborhood .... 355 
 
 St. Paul's Cathedral and Westminster Abbey. 391 
 
 The Houses of Parliament 425 
 
 The London Parks 443 
 
 The British Museum 467 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Ben Jonson at the Devil Tavern ......... Frontispiece 
 
 The London Stone ..... 12 
 
 Norman Barrow 14 
 
 Houses on Old London Bridge 17 
 
 Norman Travelling Dress . 19 
 
 Feet and Head Dresses „ 20 
 
 Murder of Thomas a Becket 23 
 
 Women in Norman Dress 26 
 
 Knight 30 
 
 The Tabard Inn 31 
 
 Early Plantagenets 34 
 
 Later Plantagenets 36 
 
 Fall of Wat Tyler 41 
 
 Head Dresses of the Period 47 
 
 York and Lancaster Ladies 48 
 
 A Marriage Procession 49 
 
 Burning the Martyrs 53 
 
 Elizabeth 59 
 
 Shakespeare 61 
 
 The Old Globe Theatre 63 
 
 A Play in an Inn-yard 67 
 
 The Globe Theatre 71 
 
 Beginning of the Riots 75 
 
 Guy Fawkes Discovered 83 
 
 Guy Fawkes and Conspirators 87 
 
 Charles the First 89 
 
 Execution of Charles the First 91 
 
 Burial of Charles the First 93 
 
 Roasting the Rump 95 
 
 Falconer to James the First 98 
 
viii List of Illustrations. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A Lord Mayor 99 
 
 A Lady Mayoress 103 
 
 Solomon Eagle in 
 
 The Great Fire in London 123 
 
 Queen Anne 133 
 
 Lady Mary Montague at the Kit-Kat Club 137 
 
 Hoop 141 
 
 The Gordon Riots 143 
 
 Sandals 146 
 
 Beards 148 
 
 Costumes, Time of George III 151 
 
 George III 155 
 
 Petticoat Lane 163 
 
 India Office, from St. James's Park 167 
 
 A Rainy Day in Old London 173 
 
 The Opening of the Underground Railway 179 
 
 Attack on Queen Eleanor 191 
 
 Osborne's Leap 195 
 
 Pensioners at Greenwich . . • 201 
 
 Lambeth Palace. — Lollards' Prison 205 
 
 Palm-House at Kew 209 
 
 Hampton Court 213 
 
 Tower of London 219 
 
 Norman Chapel in the Tower 221 
 
 Portrait of Raleigh 223 
 
 Old London Bridge 227 
 
 Menagerie in the Tower 231 
 
 The Armory 233 
 
 The Crown Jewels 237 
 
 Lord Mayor's River Procession 245 
 
 The Old Lord Mayor's Barge 249 
 
 The Lord Mayor's Coach 251 
 
 Gog and Magog 257 
 
 Richard Whittington 267 
 
 Old Charing Cross 270 
 
 Ancient Windsor Castle 278 
 
 Court of Aldermen, Guildhall 281 
 
 Interior of Merchant Taylors' Hall 285 
 
 Goldsmith Hall 291 
 
 Crypt in Guildhall 293 
 
List of Illustrations. ix 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Procession of Billmen and Archers 299 
 
 Guard Chamber, Lambeth Palace 306 
 
 Salisbury and Worcester House 310 
 
 Courtyard, Bank of England 319 
 
 Parlor, Bank of England 323 
 
 Thomas Sutton 331 
 
 First Royal Exchange 339 
 
 Thomas Gresham 343 
 
 The Royal Exchange 349 
 
 Temple Bar 357 
 
 Knight-Templar «... 363 
 
 St. John's Gate 367 
 
 Dr. Johnson's Pew 373 
 
 Gateway, Lincoln's Inn 377 
 
 A Proclamation at Temple Bar 381 
 
 Group at Hardman's 387 
 
 Old St. Paul's 393 
 
 St. Paul's, from the River 401 
 
 Chapel of Henry VII., Westminster Abbey 405 
 
 Westminster Palace 4 1 1 
 
 The Coronation Chair 417 
 
 St. Paul's Cathedral 423 
 
 The Houses of Parliament. W. E Gladstone 427 
 
 Old Westminster Hall 43 1 
 
 Queen Caroline's. Drawing-Room 437 
 
 The Star Chamber ... 44° 
 
 London Dandy, Middle of Seventeenth Century 447 
 
 Kensington Palace 455 
 
 St. James's Park ■ 459 
 
 Playing Pall-Mall 4^3 
 
 Reading-Room, British Museum . . 47 1 
 
" London, the buskined stage 
 Of history, the archive of the past, — 
 The heart, the centre of the living world ! " 
 
 Robert Leighton. 
 
YOUNG FOLKS' 
 HISTORY OF LONDON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE REIGN OF 
 HENRY III. 
 
 Desiring to glorify their city, some of the Roman writers 
 ascribed its origin to the gods ; and Geoffrey of Monmouth, 
 a monkish historian, whose imagination appears to have been 
 greater than his truthfulness, attributes the foundation of Lon- 
 don to Brutus, a descendant of ^Eneas of Troy : — 
 
 " Brutus, considering the state of the Kingdom, form'd a 
 Design of building a City, and in order thereunto, carefully 
 survey'd the Country to discover a Place proper for its Situa- 
 tion. At last pitching upon a Spot of Ground on the Bank of 
 the River Thames, very fit for his Purpose, he erected a City 
 thereon, and dignified the same with the Appellation of New 
 Troy, by which Name it was known for many Ages. But the 
 same being at length corrupted, it was called Trinovant ; and 
 in Process of Time, when Lud, the Brother of Cassibellaun, 
 obtain 'd the Government, he incircled the same with a strong 
 and stately Wall, adorn'd with an infinite Number of Towers 
 of curious Workmanship, and changed the name thereof to 
 Caer-lud or Lud's-town; and commanding the Citizens to 
 build Houses and Publick Structures of all Sorts, it soon 
 equalled, if not excell'd, all Cities at Home and Abroad, to a 
 
Voting Folks History of London. 
 
 very great Degree. But some time after, the new Appellation 
 being corrupted, it was changed into Caer- London ; and when 
 the Kingdom was afterwards conquered and brought into 
 Subjection by Foreigners, they chang'd the Name thereof to 
 Londres." 
 
 Geoffrey has been severely scolded by other chroniclers for 
 publishing this fanciful story, and one of them angrily and 
 comprehensively describes it as " a great, coarse, thick, heavy, 
 long, and most impudent Lye." 
 
 If London existed before the invasion of the Romans it 
 probably was like most British towns, a rude stockaded settle- 
 ment, unacquainted with any more imposing architecture 
 than windowless, chimneyless, and doorless huts, shaped of 
 reeds and branches after the manner of hur- 
 dles. The inhabitants went naked or dressed 
 in the hides of animals, and they tattooed 
 and painted their arms and faces with vari- 
 ous figures. 
 
 The situation of the town was a vast mo- 
 rass, or lagoon, in which were many islands 
 that are now united in the wonderful chain 
 of London suburbs. Out of the waters also 
 rose dark masses of tangled forest, through 
 which the boar, the deer, the wolf, and the 
 wild ox wandered unmolested. 
 But with the coming of the Romans the solitude passed 
 away, and a few years afterwards London had become a 
 flourishing port. Though York was the official capital, Lon- 
 don was the actual centre, for it was the point from which 
 the roads of the conquerors radiated over the island. It 
 rapidly surpassed all other British towns in population and 
 wealth, though the scarcity of stone and the abundance of 
 clay in its neighborhood did not encourage the erection of 
 fine buildings, and it was little more than a mass of brick 
 
 THE LONDON 
 STONE. 
 
764-801. Roman London. 13 
 
 houses and red-tiled roofs, pierced by a network of narrow 
 alleys, and cleft by two wider roads from the bridge which 
 at this early period spanned the marshy Thames. 
 
 Roman London was the real beginning of the great city, 
 and a part of it lies buried eighteen feet below the level of 
 Cheapside. The Romans left deep footprints wherever they 
 trod, and many of the existing streets follow the lines which 
 they beat out. The river bank was the site of their palaces, 
 and a stone imbedded in the walls of one of the churches 
 marks the starting-point of the roads which they designed. 
 In a lane out of the Strand may still be seen a deep, cool bath 
 in which they bathed after the chariot races at Finsbury. 
 Fragments of the pavements trodden by Hadrian and Con- 
 stantine are occasionally unearthed, and the ramparts which 
 the legionaries guarded have not yet wholly crumbled to 
 dust. 
 
 The city was thrice burned down between the years 764 
 and 801. It was plundered by the Danes, taken and re- 
 paired by King Alfred, and afterwards it became the residence 
 of King Canute, who will be remembered for his dramatic 
 rebuke of the flattery of his courtiers. Its progress was 
 rapid, and in Canute's time it had already become famous 
 for its magnificence, being then possessed of the seventh part 
 of the wealth of the whole kingdom. Many privileges were 
 conferred upon it : it became the seat of parliament, and the 
 centre of all political, literary, and fashionable society. 
 
 In the time of the Saxons it was not unlike a small German 
 town, such as may be seen to-day, clasped by a sturdy wall, 
 with corner turrets for archers, and loops whence the bow- 
 men could drive their arrows. The buildings were fortresses, 
 convents, and huts. If restored, the streets would resemble 
 those of Moscow, says Mr. Walter Thornbury, where, behind 
 citadel, palace, and church, you come upon rows of wooden 
 sheds. On the river would be a few fishermen's boats, and 
 
14 
 
 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 lower down, perhaps, would be a hundred larger vessels 
 bringing furs, wines, and other luxuries in exchange for the 
 wool and other products of the island. 
 
 The persons one would meet in the streets would be the 
 chieftain, with a bearded retinue of spearmen ; the priest, with 
 a train of acolytes \ and a boorish crowd of half-savage churls, 
 
 plodding along with 
 rough carts, laden with 
 timber from the Essex 
 forests, or driving 
 herds of swine from 
 the glades of Epping. 
 Should we climb upon 
 the walls, and look 
 beyond them in the 
 direction from which 
 these country folk have 
 come, we should see 
 wild woodland and 
 pasture, a landscape 
 similar to that which 
 the emigrant of these 
 times finds in the unsettled parts of our Western States and 
 Territories ; and if we should accost one of them we should 
 probably find him a strong, hearty fellow, with a red face and 
 yellow locks, fond of strong ale and quite ready for a brawl. 
 His dress would be a simple tunic or frock such as is still 
 worn in a few of the rural parts of England. 
 
 The chieftains, however, had a great taste for finery. They 
 wore gold collars and precious stones round the neck, and 
 costly bracelets and rings. The fabrics used were silk, linen, 
 and woollens, which were often bedecked with jewels. 
 
 The shops of the primitive city were small and dark, and 
 all the wares were exhibited on a shelf projecting from the 
 
 NORMAN BARROW 
 
1066. Charter confirmed by William. 15 
 
 front of the merchant's dwelling. The interior furniture was 
 of the simplest kind, often consisting of nothing more than 
 a few rude benches and tables and cooking utensils. 
 
 Besides the chieftains, priests, and churls, we might also 
 have met in the streets the seafaring men of the old Saxon 
 brotherland, "the pioneers of the mighty Hansa of the 
 North, which was in days to come to knit together London 
 and Novgorod in one bond of commerce, and to dictate laws 
 and distribute crowns among the nations." 
 
 After the battle of Hastings London surrendered to the 
 conqueror somewhat ingloriously, but it was rewarded for its 
 submission by one of the many charters granted to it and 
 jealously guarded by it, which preserved its liberties and 
 privileges. The charter was written in the language of the 
 citizens, "a mighty Favour at that Time," says Maitland, 
 " when the French Tongue began to prevail over all." It 
 covered a slip of parchment six inches long and one inch 
 wide, and it read in English thus : — 
 
 " William the King friendly salutes William the Bishop, and 
 Godfrey the Portreve, and all the Burgesses within London, 
 both French and English. And I declare, that I grant you 
 to be all Lawworthy, as you were in the Days of King Ed- 
 ward ; and I grant that every Child shall be his Father's 
 Heir, after his Father's Days ; and I will not suffer any 
 person to do you wrong. God keep you." 
 
 This charter, simple as it was, confirmed the citizens in 
 their liberties, and relieved them from the tyrannical vassalage 
 which was common elsewhere in the kingdom. 
 
 Eighteen years after the Conquest William began the erec- 
 tion of the Tower of London, and, though the uses to which 
 it was put soon made it a menace to the champions of pop- 
 ular liberty, it was designed to fortify the river approaches 
 to the city. It was built on a site which had been a Ro- 
 man stronghold more than a thousand years before the Nor- 
 
1 6 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 man king, and the mistake has been made by some writers, 
 even Shakespeare, of attributing it to Julius Caesar. 
 
 King William summoned Gundulf, the weeping monk of 
 Bee, in Normandy, who, though familiar as an architect, was 
 chiefly known in his convent as a weeper. No monk at Bee 
 could cry so often and so much as Gundulf. He could weep 
 with those who wept, and he could weep with those who 
 sported. His tears rolled forth from what seemed to be an 
 unfailing source. 
 
 William made him Bishop of Rochester, and put him to 
 work on the famous Tower. So Gundulf wept and built, and 
 Ralph Flambard, Bishop of Durham, found the money, little 
 imagining that he was robbing the people to erect a prison 
 for himself. 
 
 Probably the earliest description of the Tower of London 
 is that by Fitzstephen, who lived in the twelfth century : 
 " The city of London hath in the east a very great and most 
 strong palatine tower, whose turrets and walls do rise from a 
 deep foundation, the mortar thereof being tempered with the 
 blood of beasts." Perhaps Gundulf pounded up the old red 
 tiles and bricks of the Romans to mix his mortar, and the 
 people, only too ready to surround with new glamour the 
 great threatening tower that was springing up in their midst, 
 accounted for the color of the mortar in this way. 
 
 Gundulf lived to the age of eighty, and saw the completion 
 of his work. 
 
 William Rufus then made additions to the building, and, 
 as an old chronicle states, " he pilled and shaved the people 
 with tribute, to spend about the Tower of London and the 
 Great Hall at Westminster." 
 
 Upon the death of Rufus the citizens seized Ralph Flam- 
 bard, the aforesaid Bishop of Durham ; and this man, who had 
 taxed them for the building of the fortress, was imprisoned 
 in one of his own dungeons. One fine day he sent for a 
 
"35- 
 
 Westminster Hall. 
 
 number of kegs of wine, and gave a great feast to his jailers, 
 who got helplessly drunk. In one of the kegs was concealed 
 a rope, by which the burly bishop let himself down out of a 
 window, and although the rope was too short, and he had an 
 awkward drop to brave, Flambard, fat as he was, took no 
 hurt, and made good his escape to France. 
 
 Westminster Hall, still one of the most notable buildings in 
 London, was built also by the second of the Norman kings ; 
 and when his brother, 
 Henry I., succeeded him 
 on the throne, the latter 
 granted a charter, which 
 seems to have been the 
 first step toward making 
 that city an independent 
 corporation. 
 
 When Henry I. died, 
 the citizens were instru- 
 mental in putting the 
 usurper Stephen on the 
 throne. Henry's daugh- 
 ter was the heiress, but 
 no sooner had that king 
 breathed his last than 
 
 his nephew Stephen, insensible to all ties of gratitude, hast- 
 ened over to England from France, and stopped not till he 
 arrived at London. No noble had as yet ventured to join 
 him, nor had any town espoused his cause ; but London 
 poured out to meet him with an uproarious welcome. The 
 voice of her citizens had long been accepted, says Mr. J. 
 R. Green, as representative of the popular assent in the 
 choice of a king, and they now claimed the right of elec- 
 tion. Undismayed by the absence of the hereditary ad- 
 visers of the crown, the " aldermen and wise folk gathered 
 
 NORMAN TRAVELLING DRESS. 
 
20 
 
 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 together the folk-mote ; and these, providing at their own 
 will for the good of the realm, unanimously resolved to 
 choose a king." The deliberations ended in the selection 
 of Stephen ; the citizens swore to defend the king with money 
 and blood, and Stephen swore to devote himself wholly to 
 
 the promotion of the 
 country's welfare. 
 
 The citizens kept their 
 word, but the king broke 
 his. The years of his 
 reign were years of un- 
 exampled misrule, and 
 when it ended the active 
 agent of the reform was 
 Theobald, the Archbishop 
 of Canterbury, to whom 
 Henry II., Stephen's suc- 
 cessor, owed his crown 
 and England her deliver- 
 ance. 
 
 Theobald was greatly 
 aided by Thomas a 
 Becket, the son of the 
 Portreeve of London. 
 Thomas grew up amid 
 the Norman barons and 
 clerks who frequented 
 his father's house, and his 
 character was at once 
 genial and refined. He 
 was tall, handsome, bright- 
 eyed, ready of wit and speech, and his firmness of temper 
 showed itself in his very sports : he once plunged into a mill- 
 race to rescue his hawk, which had fallen into the water, and 
 
 FEET AND HEAD DRESSES. 
 
1 170. Courage of A Becket. 21 
 
 was nearly crushed to death by the wheel. Losing his for- 
 tune, he joined the clergy, and became Archbishop Theo- 
 bald's confidant in his plans for the rescue of England. 
 
 The fate of Thomas a Becket is one of the saddest stories 
 of English history. This young Londoner became the most 
 intimate friend of Henry II. ; he and the king were nearly 
 of an age, and it was said of them that they had but one 
 heart and one mind ; they even romped in the streets, and 
 were as two brothers. The king loaded his favorite with 
 riches and honors, and made him chancellor of the realm. 
 The king's ambition was vaulting, however, and he was not 
 above using his intimate friend as a tool. The latter per- 
 ceived his aims, and frankly said to him, — 
 
 " You will soon hate me as much as you love me now, for 
 you assume an authority in the affairs of the church to which 
 I will never assent." 
 
 For some time the king succeeded in his purposes, which 
 were intended to put the affairs of the church under his own 
 control, and his former friend became bitterly opposed to 
 him. Above all things Thomas a Becket was brave ; and 
 when in one of the councils cries of " Traitor ! traitor ! " 
 were raised against him, he turned fiercely upon his accusers, 
 and said, " Were I a knight, my sword should answer that 
 foul taunt." 
 
 At last he was obliged to leave England, and for six years 
 the conflict went on between him and the king, one repre- 
 senting a claim for spiritual supremacy, and the other a claim 
 for temporal supremacy, though both were actuated to a great 
 extent by personal jealousy. A truce was then declared, 
 and Thomas returned to England. But he had been there 
 only a short time when he was murdered in his own cathe- 
 dral by four fanatic supporters of the king. 
 
 It is one of the most dramatic pictures of history. The 
 prelate is standing at the altar in the dimly lighted and silent 
 
22 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 sanctuary, with his heavily robed monks and clergy around 
 him, their shadows falling across the stone floor and lofty 
 pillars of the cathedral. Suddenly the four loud-voiced, 
 spurred, and armored knights burst through one of the doors, 
 and cry out, " Where is the traitor? " The words are spoken 
 again in echoes from the roof and every corner of the spa- 
 cious building, " Where is the traitor? " 
 
 Thomas turns on the steps of the altar, upon which a few 
 lights are burning, showing the religious splendors behind 
 them. " Here am I," he answers, in a voice in which there 
 is no tremor, — " here am I, no traitor, but a priest of God." 
 One of the knights rushes up to him and seizes him, mutter- 
 ing, " You are our prisoner ! " 
 
 " Off! " cries the bishop, recognizing him, " You are my 
 servant," throwing him down. 
 
 The three others come to the aid of their companion, 
 while the monks in terror conceal themselves behind the 
 pillars ; and in a minute Thomas a Becket is lying dead, while 
 the assassins steal off, one of them exclaiming, " Let us be 
 off, he will never rise again ! " 
 
 Thus died one of the most famous sons of the city whose 
 history we are writing, — the first Englishman under the Nor- 
 man rule who rose to a great position. 
 
 The end of the king was scarcely less sad. His sons re- 
 volted against him, and before his death he humiliated him- 
 self before the tomb of the murdered companion of his youth. 
 As he passed away, he slowly murmured, " Shame, shame on 
 a conquered king." 
 
 His son Richard succeeded him, and on the death of 
 the latter, Henry's younger son, John, ascended the throne. 
 During the reign of John, London had again an opportunity 
 to exercise its growing power, the city being influential in 
 procuring the Magna Charta at Runnymede, the island near 
 Windsor, where the king and the barons met ; and in the 
 
THE MURDER OF THOMAS A BECKET. 
 
1 199-1272. Foreign Settlers. 25 
 
 war of the barons for constitutional liberties against King 
 Henry III., it once more led the way in the championship 
 of the popular cause, and provided Simon de Montfort, the 
 Earl of Leicester, with fifteen thousand men to resist the army 
 of that monarch. 
 
 Until the reign of Edward I. the other towns of the king- 
 dom had no liberties. They did not have any voice in the 
 government, and had not even the privilege of electing their 
 own local officers. Justice was administered among the in- 
 habitants by the steward of the lord owning the ground upon 
 which the town was built. 
 
 London had now become in some respects similar to New 
 York and Boston of the present time. Foreigners were con- 
 stantly flocking into it, and for the most part they were sub- 
 stantial and industrious men, artisans from France, Holland, 
 and Germany. Members of the great mercantile houses of 
 Italy, and especially of Lombardy, also came to invest their 
 fortunes in it, and they combined the business of bankers 
 with that of advancing money at a high rate of interest. It 
 is the coat-of-arms used by them which the pawnbrokers 
 now display, — the three gold balls, which symbolize the 
 poverty and improvidence of our large cities. 
 
 Great precautions were taken to protect the treasure which 
 was stored in the city. The city gates were carefully closed 
 when the first chime of the curfew rang out, and at the last 
 stroke of the bell the wickets were shut. Each ward pro- 
 vided a number of watchmen, and some twenty armed men 
 mounted guard at each of the gates. During the day ser- 
 geants " fluent of speech " were stationed there to examine 
 all doubtful characters ; and all boats in the river were made 
 fast to the Middlesex shore. While two boats filled with 
 river police were patrolling the Thames, watchmen were 
 pacing the streets. All taverns were closed at the curfew, 
 and after that hour any belated citizen was picked up without 
 
26 
 
 Young Folks Histoiy of London. 
 
 ceremony and summarily locked up till morning in the bride- 
 well. On holidays, and when there was any prospect of 
 unusual lawlessness, many of the citizens acted as special 
 constables, wearing party-colored coats over their armor and 
 carrying lances painted with different colors ; but as they 
 were supplied at night with flaming cressets fixed in long 
 poles, the disturbers of the peace had not much difficulty 
 in evading them. 
 
 The community was generally very comfortable. There 
 were no paupers, and there was little poverty. The mar- 
 
 WOMEN IN NORMAN DRESS. 
 
 kets were much what they are now ; the fishmongers had 
 already chosen Billingsgate for their location, and the game 
 and poultry sellers, Leadenhall ; but owing to the absence of 
 conveyances the people had to live for half the year on salted 
 meat and stock fish. 
 
 There were no wagons, coaches, or canals ; the traffic was 
 all on the backs of horses. The drivers came to town, and 
 returned, in strong companies, for there were robbers lurking 
 
1307- Struggles for Privileges. 27 
 
 near every wood. They carried or bought their own provis- 
 ions on the way, for at the inns they found nothing but sleep- 
 ing accommodation. They carried their valuables to bed 
 with them, and sometimes sat up, watching over them, all 
 night. On the march they looked suspiciously, weapon in 
 hand, at every coppice of trees or clump of tangled brush- 
 wood. 
 
 The Norman influence had led to the cultivation of the arts 
 and refinements of life ; and according to one historian, who 
 may be questioned, the title of baron was given to all the 
 burgesses of London. 
 
 But though many privileges were conferred on the metrop- 
 olis, it was not allowed to enjoy them without a struggle. The 
 most dangerous and the most imperative duty of the mayor, 
 sheriffs, and aldermen was to guard these privileges from the 
 Crown and Court, and to watch for opportunities to strengthen 
 and extend them. When the sovereign was in trouble and 
 needed the alliance of a city which could furnish an army as 
 great as half the barons of England could gather together, it 
 was easy to obtain new charters and other favors from him ; 
 but when he was secure on the throne, the citizens had to 
 look to their coffers, and endure many affronts. What privi- 
 leges they possessed they had to pay for handsomely ; and 
 every possible occasion was seized on by the king to increase 
 their taxes, which during the reign of Henry III. amounted 
 to more than six and a half per cent. 
 
" He who has once felt that love of London can never again be 
 happy beyond the sound of Bow Bells, which can now be heard for 
 twenty miles round and more. The greatness of the city, its history, 
 its churchyards crowded with dead citizens, its associations, its ambi- 
 tions, its pride, its hurrying crowds, — all these things affect the imag- 
 ination and fill the heart. There is no place in all the world, and 
 never has been, which so stirs the heart of her children with love and 
 pride as the city of London ; not Paris even, nor Rome, nor Florence, 
 nor Venice; there is no city in which the people have been more 
 steadfastly purposed to maintain their rights and fight for their free- 
 dom." — Rice and Besaxt. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 IN THE REIGNS OF EDWARD III. AND RICHARD II. 
 
 By the time of Edward III. the fusion of the Normans 
 and the Saxons had become complete, and English had 
 become a common tongue to high and low. The city, also, 
 had changed its appearance to some extent, and we will 
 now look at it as it was in the reigns of Edward and his suc- 
 cessor, Richard II. 
 
 We get an idea of the sort of people we should have met, 
 had we lived then, from Chaucer's description of the thirty 
 pilgrims who started one May morning from the Tabard Inn, 
 to visit the shrine of Thomas a Becket, where miracles were 
 said to be wrought, and who represented every class of Eng- 
 lish society, from the noble to the ploughman. 
 
 A knight heads the list, most of whose life has been spent 
 in the field, and whose dress shows that he seldom takes off 
 his armor. He is accompanied by his son, a curly-headed 
 young squire, who is elegantly and even foppishly dressed. 
 This youth has already made a campaign against the French, 
 and on that occasion, as well as in the tourney, has borne 
 himself well in the hopes of gaining his lady's favor. Love 
 deprives him of sleep, and, like the nightingale, he is overflow- 
 ing with songs to his beloved. In attendance on him and 
 his father is a yeoman, who, clad in green, with sword and 
 buckler, his bow in his hand, and his arrows and dagger in 
 his belt, represents the stalwart class who won Crecy and 
 Poitiers for the Plantagenets. 
 
3Q 
 
 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 In contrast with them appears a lively prioress, who speaks 
 with a French lisp after the manner of "Stratford atte 
 Bow ; " and after her comes a portly monk of the Bene- 
 dictine order, whose crown and cheeks are as smooth as glass, 
 and whose eyes shine like burning coals. His bridle jingles 
 as loud as chapel bells, for he is a lover of the hunt and 
 knows well how to sit on his horse. 
 Then there is a begging friar, and a mer- 
 chant with forked beard, Flemish beaver, 
 and well-clasped boots, who is familiar 
 with all the ways of the Wall Street of 
 his time. Learning is represented by an 
 Oxford student, hollow-cheeked and 
 threadbare, and by a successful lawyer, 
 rich through heavy fees and fat per- 
 quisites. 
 
 Among the others is a franklin, the 
 owner of a freehold estate, who is a man 
 of note in his county, having already 
 served as knight of the shire and as 
 sheriff; in whose house, as the poet says, 
 " it snows meat and drink ; " and of 
 the humbler persons are several types of 
 English industry, — a haberdasher, a car- 
 penter, a weaver, a dyer, and a tapestry 
 maker, each in the new livery of his craft 
 knight. which was adopted in King Edward's 
 
 time. Here, also, is the sailor, or the 
 shiprhan, as he is called, sunburnt, and clad in the dress of his 
 class, who has visited every shore from Gothland to Cape 
 Finisterre ; and next to him is a doctor of physic, who is 
 familiar with astrology, dresses smartly, and, like the lawyer, 
 has profited abundantly by the misfortunes of his fellows. A 
 prominent figure is the wife of Bath, wearing clothing of the 
 
i377~ I 399- Canterbury Pilgrims. 33 
 
 finest stuffs, a broad hat, red stockings, and spurs ; and in con- 
 trast to her, again, is a poor parson, who, notwithstanding his 
 scanty income, is ever contented, and never fails to go forth, 
 staff in hand, when the afflicted need him. " Christ's lore 
 and his apostles' twelve he taught, and first he followed it 
 himself." Then there is a miller, and also the steward of a 
 religious house, who knows how to make his own profits 
 while he is buying for his masters. The bailiff of a Norfolk 
 lord is there, a man as lean as a rake, shaven and choleric. 
 In his youth he was a carpenter, but no one knows better 
 than he how to judge of the yielding of the seed, or the 
 promise of cattle. The summoner of an archdeacon is one 
 of the least reputable of the company. Lustful and glutton- 
 ous, he cares most for his wine, and when intoxicated he 
 speaks nothing but bad Latin, having picked up some scraps 
 of that tongue in attendance on the courts. His rival in 
 viciousness is a pardoner, who, licensed to sell papal indul- 
 gences, carries in his wallet a number of pardons, " come 
 from Rome all hot." 
 
 These are the people who left the Tabard Inn, with its 
 peaked gables, behind them on that May morning, and they 
 are of the kind we should have met plentifully in the streets 
 of London in the fourteenth century. 
 
 The city at the close of that century (Messrs. Rice and 
 Besant have written in their history of Sir Richard Whitting- 
 ton) was much richer in great and noble houses than it is at 
 present ; but it had a straggling, semi-rural appearance. The 
 brooks which channelled its surface were not embanked, 
 much less vaulted over. Here and there a wharf or bridge 
 was to be seen on the banks of the Thames, where the Han- 
 seatic ships or Genoese galleys lay, but for the most part they 
 were much as the washings of the river had shaped them, 
 deformed rather than ornamented by human cutting and 
 carving. The streets were crooked ; few of them were paved, 
 
 3 
 
34 
 
 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 and refuse lay ankle-deep in them. Straggling groups of 
 houses rose here and there, with gardens around and between 
 them. Those of the nobility, the royal castles and towers, 
 the precincts of the cathedral and the abbeys and monasteries, 
 were walled and embattled. The city wall belted in the 
 whole, but looking from it into the London of that time, the 
 latter seemed more like several villages than one town. 
 
 The city, however, already 
 possessed St. Paul's Cathe- 
 dral, the Tower, and London 
 Bridge. The Tower was an 
 object of fear and jealousy 
 rather than pride to the citi- 
 zens, because it represented 
 the royal pretensions against 
 which they were continually 
 struggling. It was a stand- 
 ing menace, and it was asso- 
 ciated with the death of 
 those who had fallen in the 
 battle of freedom. It was 
 in that fortress that the early 
 reformers were hanged, beheaded, and quartered, as sedi- 
 tious and pestilent fellows. 
 
 The following story shows the popular feeling against it : — 
 Henry III. added to the main building a noble tower. 
 Hardly were the works completed than, on the night of St. 
 George, the foundations gave way, and the whole fell to the 
 ground. The work was again taken in hand, and the tower 
 rebuilt. Again it fell to the ground. Now there was a cer- 
 tain priest in London, to whom, in a dream, there appeared 
 the venerable figure of an archbishop bearing a cross in his 
 hand. He advanced to the newly built walls, regarded them 
 with a stern and threatening aspect, and struck them with his 
 
 EARLY PLANTAGEXETS. 
 
i377~ I 399- The City Companies. 35 
 
 cross, whereupon they all fell to the ground. The sleeping- 
 priest, in his dream, asked an attendant on the archbishop 
 what might be the meaning of this, and was answered that 
 he saw before him the sainted Thomas a, Becket, son of 
 Gilbert, Portreeve of London, who overturned these walls 
 because he knew them to be designed for the injury and 
 prejudice of the Londoners, whom he loved, and not for 
 defence of the kingdom. 
 
 London in the fourteenth century was almost as catholic 
 in its commercial pursuits as it is now, and it had some trades 
 which are now obsolete or merged into others, such as that 
 of the paternoster, or maker of prayer-beads ; the saucer, or 
 dealer in salt ; the imageur, or maker of images for church 
 purposes ; and the disshere, or maker of dishes. 
 
 The tradesmen banded themselves in societies for their 
 protection and advancement in early times ; but the forma- 
 tion of the city guilds or companies, as they now exist, was 
 greatly helped in the reign of Edward III. It was a long 
 time before they obtained what they have ever since held, a 
 monopoly of the municipal offices and dignities ; but they 
 alone were privileged to carry on business within the city 
 walls, and persons who had not served a full term of appren- 
 ticeship, and were not members of a guild, could not open 
 shops. 
 
 Edward III. seems to have been the first king who realized 
 the enormous importance of encouraging and fostering the 
 trade of the city through its companies, and the necessity of 
 furthering their development. Successful trade brought wealth 
 to the country ; wealth brought love of order and royal taxes ; 
 and love of order brought loyalty. Edward set the example — 
 followed often since his day — of becoming a member of one 
 of the companies, the Merchant Taylors, formerly called the 
 Linen Armourers. Richard II., after his grandfather's ex- 
 ample, became a member of the Mercers' Company. Princes 
 
36 
 
 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 and nobles followed the royal lead, and accepted member- 
 ship of the great companies much as they do now. 
 
 The general management of all the companies was very 
 much the same. The differences, indeed, were those of 
 different patron saints, different liveries, and different incomes. 
 The first rule was that no base-born person or churl should 
 be admitted to apprenticeship, and that no person should 
 disclose the lawful secrets of the craft. 
 
 The wardens had great 
 powers, which they ap- 
 pear to have exercised 
 zealously. They could 
 visit everything and in- 
 spect everything. They 
 were authorized to in- 
 quire into the quality of 
 all things sold ; and be- 
 cause their duties, if car- 
 ried out honestly, were 
 apt to engender bad feel- 
 ings among those of the 
 craft who would cheat if 
 they could, it was en- 
 joined that every mem- 
 ber of the company, if elected to the office of warden, should 
 be bound to serve ; and, further, that any member of the 
 company not obeying the warden was liable to imprison- 
 ment. 
 
 Thus when, in the year 1431, the Company of Brewers 
 resolved that every man among them should send a barrel of 
 ale for the solace of the king's army in France, and one Will 
 Payne absolutely refused to contribute, it was decided that he 
 should be fined the sum of three shillings and fourpence, 
 which should be expended in the purchase of a swan for the 
 
 LATER PLANTAGENETS. 
 
i377- I 399- Festivals of the Tradesmen. 37 
 
 Master's breakfast. Payne objected to this simple and good- 
 humored fine, and was forthwith taken to prison. 
 
 Strange to relate, he remained obdurate, renounced the 
 livery of his company, and defied the authorities. He was 
 therefore brought before the mayor, and after some time he 
 was made to see that, unless he obeyed, imprisonment in a 
 close and disagreeable jail, from which fever was seldom ab- 
 sent, would inevitably follow ; and further, that if, by some 
 lucky chance and the special blessing of Heaven, he should 
 survive Newgate, he would receive sentence of expulsion from 
 the city, and consequent starvation would be his lot. He 
 then submitted. 
 
 Another duty of the wardens was to assist the poorer 
 brethren, the decayed and infirm, and the widows and or- 
 phans of the livery. If a woman was married to a freeman 
 of the company, she became henceforth their daughter, and 
 they could not suffer her or her children to want. 
 
 The wardens also had to see that, by covetousness and 
 overreaching, no member of their craft was injured by a 
 brother of the same fraternity. 
 
 The great day of the year was the company's saint's day, 
 when all the members of the livery, great and small, — from 
 master and wardens to serving-men, every one in a new 
 livery, — kept high holiday. First they marched from their 
 hall to church in procession, headed by clerks, priests, and 
 boys, all in surplices, singing as they went ; then came the 
 sheriff's servants, the clerks, the assistants, the chaplain, 
 the mayor's sergeants, often the mayor himself, and, lastly, 
 the court, with prince or master, wardens, and officers. 
 
 After mass they returned in like order to their hall, where 
 dinner was laid for them ; the music was playing in the 
 gallery ; the banners were displayed on the walls ; and the 
 air was heavy with the scent of sandalwood. Every sense 
 was gratified at once. On the Hautpas, at the end of the 
 
38 Yoimg Folks History of London, 
 
 hall, was the high table, where the Prime Warden, Master, or 
 " Pilgrim " entertained the court and the noble guests of the 
 day ; below sat the freemen, each accompanied by his wife, 
 so that all alike might rejoice. 
 
 Dinner being over, the music in the gallery ceased for a 
 while, and serious business was transacted, — nothing less 
 than the election of officers for the ensuing year. The lov- 
 ing-cup then went round to refresh and cheer. History 
 says nothing about how often the cup was filled, and how 
 many times it passed round the hall ; there are, however, 
 two texts in the kitchen of the Fishmongers' Hall which have 
 regulated every city banquet from time immemorial. They 
 are golden texts. One enjoins the cooks to "waste not;" 
 the other adds, — lest these words should lead to parsimony, 
 — " spare not." 
 
 With hearts uplifted, cheerful faces, and eyes aglow with 
 pride in their own splendor, the honest craftsmen sat, every 
 man with his wife or maiden beside him, while the minstrels 
 led in the players, and interludes, allegories, and mummeries 
 finished the great day of the year. 
 
 The following bill of fare of a fourteenth century banquet 
 will be read with interest. The mixture of sweets and meat 
 in each course is contrary to modern ideas, and it will be seen 
 that there is only one vegetable spoken of: — 
 
 First Course. — Brawn, with mustard ; cabbages in pottage ; 
 swan standard ; cony, roasted ; great custards. 
 
 Second Course. — Venison, in broth, with white mottrews ; 
 cony standard ; partridges, with cocks, roasted ; leche lombard ; 
 doucettes, with little parneux. 
 
 Third Course. — Pears in syrop ; great birds with little ones 
 together ; fritters ; payn puff, with a cold bake-meat. 
 
 The leche lo7tibard is said by one authority to have been a 
 jelly of cream, isinglass, sugar, almonds, and other ingredients. 
 
1377-1399- Rebellion of Wat Tyler. 39 
 
 Another authority states that it was made of pork pounded in 
 a mortar with eggs, raisins, dates, sugar, salt, pepper, spices, 
 milk of almonds, and red wine, all stuffed into a bladder and 
 boiled. 
 
 Mottrews was a stew of pork and poultry pounded in a 
 mortar and strained ; afterwards it was " treated " with 
 blanched almonds, milk, and the white flour of rice. 
 
 Doucettes were little sweetmeats and confections. Parneux 
 were rich preparations of bread, &c. Pay n puffs were made 
 of bread, stuffed with all kinds of farces, — for example, mar- 
 row, yolk of eggs, dates, raisins, &c. 
 
 The citizens ate food long since discarded as coarse, such 
 as lampreys and porpoise ; they were fond of swans and pea- 
 cocks ; they used melted fat, or lard, for butter ; for sugar 
 they had honey ; and they were especially addicted to eating 
 frumenty, or wheat boiled in milk. 
 
 For the above interesting facts we are indebted to Messrs. 
 Rice and Besant. 
 
 During the reign of the boy-king, Richard II., the insur- 
 rection of Wat Tyler occurred. A new tax had been im- 
 posed upon the people of the country, and in attempting to 
 collect it at a village in Kent, one of the gatherers grossly 
 insulted the young daughter of a poor laboring man. The 
 outraged father at once struck the fellow across the head with 
 his staff, killing him instantly, and then mustering his neigh- 
 bors around him, who were in a temper to revolt against the 
 increased taxation, he marched from village to village toward 
 London, gathering recruits until he reached Blackheath, where 
 he had one hundred thousand men under him. 
 
 He fancifully called himself Wat Tyler, after his occupation, 
 which was that of a roofer, and his lieutenants also assumed 
 names which indicated their trades, such as Jack Straw, Hob 
 Carter, and Tom Miller. 
 
40 Voting Folks History of London. 
 
 At Blackheath they were addressed by John Ball, an itin- 
 erant preacher, who took for his text the lines, — 
 
 " When Adam delved, and Eve span, 
 Where was then the gentleman ? " 
 
 and thence they advanced on the city, which was only a few 
 miles distant. 
 
 In their object, to resist an extortion, we can sympathize 
 with them, but their leaders were foolish and unintelligent 
 men, who made war not in the cause of justice alone, but 
 against all culture and refinement. They declared them- 
 selves in arms against all men of law, — barristers, justices, 
 and jurors ; and, as an old chronicler tells us, they spared 
 none whom they thought to be learned. If a man was found 
 to have pen and ink in his possession, he was at once 
 beheaded. 
 
 The most mischievous of the leaders seems to have been 
 Ball, who himself possessed the education which he pretended 
 to despise in others. He counselled the poor dupes to burn 
 all historic records and monuments, so that " the memories 
 of antiquities being taken away, their lordes should not be 
 able to challenge any right on them from that time forth ; " 
 and he also urged them to destroy all the nobility and clergy, 
 " so that there should bee no bishop in England, but one 
 archbishoppe, which should bee himselfe." 
 
 The cause of the people crying out against the extrava- 
 gance of the government was a just one, but they allowed 
 themselves to mistake the scheming demagogue's false cause 
 for their own, and all he sought was his personal advance- 
 ment. 
 
 Forcing an entrance into the city, they burned many of the 
 finest houses, sacked the public and religious buildings, broke 
 open the jails, and enlisted the released prisoners in their 
 unreasonable work of destruction. 
 
1 377-1 399. Murder of the ArcJibisJiop. 43 
 
 They then surrounded the Tower, in which the king, a 
 boy of sixteen, had taken refuge, and they demanded him to 
 come among them unarmed and without guards. The reti- 
 nue of the youthful monarch were paralyzed with fear, and 
 though the Tower was full of men expert in the use of arms, 
 including six hundred archers, they " did quaile in stomacke," 
 and allowed the rustics to enter their fortress without resist- 
 ance, to roll about in the king's chamber, and even to insult 
 his mother. 
 
 The rebels were under the influence of the wine and beer 
 which they had drunk in their mad expedition ; one moment 
 they were blindly ferocious, and the next in a state of maudlin 
 joviality. In the former mood they seized the archbishop in 
 his chapel, and led him forth to a place of execution. 
 
 " What is it you intend to do, dear brethren? " the prelate 
 calmly said, when a score of swords were threatening him. 
 " What is the offence for which you will kill me? " 
 
 The savage cries of the mob were the only answer, and 
 kneeling down, after forgiving the one chosen to be his ex- 
 ecutioner, the prelate bared his neck. After the first blow 
 he murmured, — 
 
 " It is the hand of God ! " and eight strokes were de- 
 livered before his head fell from his body. 
 
 The mob also vented their fury upon all foreigners, and 
 unless the latter could say " bread and cheese " without any 
 strange accent they were beheaded. 
 
 The king was overcome with fear when he met the rioters 
 in Whitechapel, and he agreed to all their demands, one of 
 which was that all felons should be pardoned. But gaining 
 courage a day or two later he summoned them to meet him 
 again. Among his attendants was Sir John Newton, and, as 
 they approached, Wat Tyler demanded that the knight should 
 dismount. The latter refused to do this, and Wat threatened 
 
44 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 to strike him with his sword. The king then ordered Sir 
 John to deliver his dagger to the rebel, and in reluctantly 
 doing so the knight bitterly exclaimed, — 
 
 " You are not worthy to have it ; nor would you dare to 
 ask it of me, if you and I were here alone." 
 
 Wat was infuriated and attempted to cut him down, but 
 before he could succeed, the mayor, William Walworth, ap- 
 peared on the scene with several of the king's supporters, 
 and struck the presumptuous rebel with his sword, bringing 
 him to the ground, where Sir John Cavendish despatched 
 him. The mob at once made an advance to avenge their 
 leader's death, but with great presence of mind the boy-king 
 stepped forward and cried, — 
 
 " What work is this, my men ? Will you shoot at your 
 king? Be not sorry for the death of a traitor. I will be 
 your king", your captain, and your leader." 
 
 He succeeded in leading them out of the city into the 
 fields, and forbidding an army of loyal men, who had secretly 
 assembled, to attack them, he dismissed them with the char- 
 ters that they had extorted from him. 
 
 Later the charters were revoked, and the people were 
 reduced to the slavish condition against which they had 
 revolted. 
 
 William Walworth became one of the most illustrious of 
 lord mayors. Though but a fishmonger, — an excellent busi- 
 ness in a nation of Catholics, — he was noted for his ability. 
 He was knighted, and one of the most important of London's 
 suburbs bears his name. 
 
 The present Fishmonger's Hall, at the northwest foot of 
 London Bridge, contains many memorials of him. At the 
 head of the stairs leading from the entrance-hall there is a 
 statue of him, and formerly the right hand clasped a dagger, 
 which was said to be the identical weapon with which he 
 
1 377-1 399 Walworth's Pall. 45 
 
 despatched Wat Tyler. This has been proved to be erro- 
 neous ; but what is now reputed to be the genuine dagger is 
 preserved by the Fishmonger's Company. 
 
 Another relic of him is " Walworth's pall," also preserved 
 by the Company, which is one of the most superb works of its 
 kind in the world. 
 
On London stones I sometimes sigh 
 
 For wider green and bluer sky; 
 Too oft the trembling note is drowned 
 In this huge city's varied sound. 
 ' Pure song is country born,' I cry. 
 
 1 Then comes the spring, — the months go by, 
 The last stray swallows seaward fly ; 
 And I — I too ! — no more am found 
 On London stones ! 
 
 ' In vain ! — the woods, the fields, deny 
 That clearer strain 1 fain would try ; 
 Mine is an urban Muse, and bound 
 By some strange law to paven ground. 
 Abroad she pouts; she is not shy 
 On London stones ! " 
 
 Austin Dobson. 
 
CHAPTER IIL 
 
 FROM 1450 TO 1559. 
 
 In 1450 occurred the rebel- 
 lion headed by Jack Cade, an 
 Irish soldier, who with twenty- 
 thousand men behind him 
 assembled at Blackheath, as 
 Wat Tyler had done before, 
 to protest against certain laws 
 which oppressed the agricul- 
 tural and laboring classes. 
 
 Cade passed over London 
 Bridge, and slashed in two 
 the ropes that suspended the 
 draw, crying out, as Shake- 
 speare has it, " Kill and knock 
 down, and throw the enemy 
 into the Thames ! " Three 
 days afterwards the citizens, 
 irritated at his robberies, 
 barred the bridge at night, and penned him in at Southwark. 
 The rebels then flew to arms and tried to force a passage, 
 eventually winning the draw, and burning many of the houses 
 which stood in close rows near it. Many persons were 
 caught between the flames, and leaped into the river or threw 
 themselves on the enemy's weapons ; while those doubting 
 how to save themselves between fire, water, and sword were 
 
 HEAD-DRESSES OF THE PERIOD. 
 
4 8 
 
 Young Folks History of Loudon. 
 
 suffocated in the houses. The guns of the Tower were turned 
 upon the rebels, who were at last routed, and Cade's head 
 was spiked on the bridge. 
 
 Cade's insurrection was one of the many disturbances 
 which preceded the struggle between the houses of Lan- 
 caster and York, throughout which London was steadily in 
 favor of the latter ; and when the young son of the Duke of 
 York cut his way through the opposing army of Lancastrians 
 at Mortimer's Cross and marched on the metropolis, the citi- 
 zens rallied at his call, and cried, " Long live King Edward ! " 
 
 as he rode through the 
 streets. 
 
 During these troublous 
 times there came to Lon- 
 don a man who, though he 
 bore no sword, played a 
 greater part in the history 
 of his country than the 
 most valorous partisans of 
 Lancaster or York. He 
 was a Kentish boy by birth, 
 and had been apprenticed 
 in his youth to a London 
 mercer. Leaving the city 
 with some merchant ad- 
 venturers, he had spent thirty years in Flanders, and when he 
 returned he brought with him the first printing press ever used 
 in England. He set himself up in business at Westminster, 
 under the sign of the red pole, and there he was visited by 
 the rich and learned persons of the city. " If it please any 
 man, spiritual or temporal," he advertised, " to buy my books, 
 all emprynted after the form of the present letter, which be 
 well and truly correct, let him come to the Red Pole at 
 Westminster, and he shall have them good chepe." 
 
 YORK AND LANCASTER LADIES. 
 
\v 
 
 
 /&* ~? 
 
 A MARRIAGE PROCESSION. 
 
1497- 
 
 Pageatitry in Chcapside. 51 
 
 Twenty-one years later, when Henry VII. was on the 
 throne, Blackheath was again the scene of an insurrection, 
 and again the people were in arms to resist the exactions of 
 a selfish king. It was not the folk of Kent or Essex now, 
 however, but the brawny Cornishmen, who had inarched all 
 the way from their sea-girt county to assert their unwillingness 
 to submit to the imposition. Numbering six thousand and 
 headed by Lord Audley, they were met on Blackheath by the 
 forces under the king, and were defeated, with heavy losses. 
 Two thousand of them were slain, and the rest surrendered. 
 Lord Audley was beheaded at Tower Hill. Several of his 
 lieutenants were hanged at Tyburn, and others were im- 
 prisoned. 
 
 London was famous for the pageants with which it cele- 
 brated victories, coronations, and nearly all holidays ; and 
 when the queen of this king went from the Tower to West- 
 minster to be crowned, the citizens of Cheapside hung vel- 
 vets and cloth of gold from their windows, and stationed 
 children, dressed as angels, to sing praises as her Majesty 
 passed by. When at a later period her corpse was conveyed 
 from the Tower, where she died, thirty-seven maidens were 
 stationed in Cheapside (the number corresponding with her 
 age), all dressed in white and bearing lighted tapers. 
 
 Cheapside was always the very centre of the pageant. 
 "There," says Mr. Thornbury, " velvets and silks trailed; 
 there jewels shone ; there spear-heads and axe-heads glittered ; 
 there breast-plates and steel caps gleamed; there proud 
 horses fretted ; there bells clashed ; there the mob clamored ; 
 there proud, warlike, and beautiful faces showed uncapped 
 and unveiled to the seething, jostling people ; and there 
 mayor and aldermen grew hottest, bowed most, and puffed 
 out with fullest dignity." 
 
 As Anne Boleyn proceeded from the Tower to Westmin- 
 ster on the eve of her coronation, the conduit of Cheapside, 
 
52 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 used for bringing water from springs in the country, ran full 
 of wine. At Cheapside Cross stood all the aldermen, from 
 amongst whom advanced Master Walter, the city recorder, 
 who presented the queen with a purse containing a thousand 
 gold pieces, which she thankfully accepted. At another place 
 in the Chepe, as the street was then called, were figures rep- 
 resenting Pallas, Venus, and Jupiter, who gave the queen an 
 apple of gold, divided into three compartments, signifying 
 wisdom, riches, and felicity. 
 
 Only three years afterwards this unfortunate lady in whose 
 honor all this pageantry was, died under the executioner's 
 axe in the Tower. " The executioner," she sadly said, " is, I 
 hear, very expert, and my neck is very slender ; " upon which 
 she clasped it with her hands and smiled. 
 
 About twenty years later, when Queen Mary was on the 
 throne, London was the scene of the martyrdom of those 
 Protestants who refused to renounce their faith. England 
 had been separated from the Church of Rome by Henry 
 VIII. , but Queen Mary was an ardent Catholic, and perse- 
 cuted to death those who could not believe as she did. 
 Some two hundred and seventy-seven persons were burnt at 
 the stake in London and elsewhere. But they perished so 
 courageously that, instead of terrifying, their example inspired 
 others to be true in the face of every danger. When Bishop 
 Ridley, of London, and Bishop Latimer, of Worcester, were 
 burning together at Oxford, the latter exclaimed to his com- 
 panion : " Be of good cheer ; we shall this day kindle such 
 a torch in England as shall never be extinguished ! " Each 
 person burnt made a thousand converts to Protestantism, and 
 instead of destroying, the cruel flames only glorified. 
 
 Most of the burnings took place at Smithfield, where Sir 
 William Walworth killed Wat Tyler ; and some of them are 
 beautifully described in the " Book of Martyrs," by John 
 Foxe, a writer of the time. Many of the martyrs showed no 
 
i !I ilfelfl 
 
1558. The Smithfield Martyrs. 55 
 
 sign of suffering at all, but passed away as if in a pleasant 
 dream. Some of them embraced the stake to which they 
 were bound, and kissed the fagots that were to burn them. 
 
 " Think you that you can bear the fire? " said Bonner, the 
 bishop who had charge of the executions, to a boy who had 
 been condemned. The boy made no answer, but at once 
 held his hand, without flinching, in the flame of a candle 
 which stood by. 
 
 While the flames licked their bodies the martyrs smiled, 
 and thus was the sting of death removed by faith in God. 
 
 Foxe speaks thus of John Rogers : "In the presence of 
 Master Rochester, Comptroller of the queen's household, Sir 
 Richard Southwell, both sheriffs, and a wonderful number of 
 people, the fire was put unto him ; and when it had taken hold 
 both upon his legs and shoulders, he, as one feeling no smart, 
 washed his hands in the flame as though it had been in cold 
 water.- And, after lifting up his hands unto heaven, not 
 removing the same until such time as the devouring fire had 
 consumed them, most mildly this happy martyr yielded up 
 his spirit into the hands of his heavenly Father. A little 
 before his burning at the stake his pardon was brought if he 
 would have recanted, but he utterly refused. He was the 
 first martyr of all the blessed company that suffered in Queen 
 Mary's time." 
 
 The death of that cruel queen averted a general revolt of 
 the people, and with the accession of Elizabeth came a hap- 
 pier period. As she entered London she kissed the English 
 Bible which the citizens presented to her, and promised to 
 read diligently therein. The first work of her Parliament 
 was to undo the work of Mary. The statutes of heresies 
 were repealed, the monasteries were disestablished, and the 
 royal supremacy was restored. 
 
" The London of the period was not so gay as Paris, nor so bus- 
 tling and prosperous as Antwerp, nor so full of splendor and intellec- 
 tual life as Venice. Yet to the Englishman of the day it was an 
 everlasting wonder. Its towers and palaces, its episcopal residences 
 and gentlemen's inns, the beauty of the Thames, the bustle of its com- 
 merce, and number of its foreigners, the wealth of its Companies, and 
 the bravery of its pageants, invested it with more poetry than can be 
 claimed for it at the present time, unless Wealth be our deity, Hurry 
 our companion, and Progress our muse. The rich were leaving their 
 pleasant country mansions to plunge into its delights. At the law 
 terms there was a regular influx of visitors, who seemed to think more 
 of taking tobacco than of winning a lawsuit. Ambitious courtiers, 
 hopeful ecclesiastics, pushing merchants, and poetic dreamers were 
 all caught by the fascinations of London." — Edwin Goadby. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME. 
 
 Our next glance shall be at the city as it was in the reign 
 of Queen Elizabeth. The vacant spaces which we have 
 spoken of as giving the city the appearance of a cluster of 
 neighboring villages rather than the unity of a town, were 
 filled up with buildings. Westminster, instead of being an 
 outlying suburb, was knitted to the city by the mansions of 
 the nobility, which then sloped downward from what is now 
 called the Strand to the river. The area within the walls 
 had become too small for the populace, and outside of them 
 there were busy streets and continuous lines of houses and 
 shops. 
 
 London had already begun to be foggy. On entering the 
 streets (according to the " Comprehensive History of Eng- 
 land "), the visitor from the country found himself all at once 
 in a murky atmosphere, which was caused not only by the 
 cloudiness overhead, but by the architecture of the houses, 
 the successive stories of which projected one above another 
 until the top ones almost met and roofed in the street below. 
 In the old town of Chester such houses may still be seen 
 as were common in London during the reign of Queen 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 They were miserably built of timber and plaster, and were 
 contemptuously called by foreigners walls of sticks and dirt ; 
 but in contrast with their external appearance was the luxury 
 that was to be found within, especially in those which be- 
 
58 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 longed to the merchants. The latter were now almost as 
 rich as the nobles, and made as much display as these lords 
 of the land. They wore the richest dresses ; their houses 
 were full of costly furniture ; plate was piled upon their side- 
 boards ; arras and silk hung from the walls, and fabrics from 
 the Orient covered their chairs and tables. While the mer- 
 chant himself was at his office, his wife and daughters idled 
 at home, sitting at their windows or in their doorways, 
 dressed in a style which vied with that of the court ladies ; 
 .and when the head of the household took them out in the 
 evenings, he had with him a retinue of his apprentices, 
 each provided with a lantern or candle to light the way, 
 and a club for protection from insolent gallants and brawl- 
 ing knaves. 
 
 The reign of Elizabeth was notable in London as it was in 
 the rest of the kingdom. The commerce of the city and the 
 dignity of the merchants increased. Choicer foods were 
 used by the people than formerly, and many refinements were 
 introduced. The chimney corner came into existence, chim- 
 neys having been a rare feature in ordinary houses previously, 
 and pillows were adopted for beds and couches. But what 
 distinguished the reign most was its literature : the London 
 of Elizabeth was the London of Spenser, Ben Jonson, and 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The two latter often met and crossed the rapiers of their 
 wit. " Many were the wit-combats betwixt him and Ben 
 Jonson," says an old writer, " which two I behold like a 
 great Spanish galleon and an E?iglish man-of-war : Master 
 Jonson (like the former) was built far higher in learning; 
 solid but slow in his performances. Shakespeare, with the 
 English man-of-war, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, 
 could turn with all tides, tack about and take advantage of 
 all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention." 
 
 We have many pictures of Ben Jonson. In his youth he 
 
ELIZABETH. 
 

1558-1603. 
 
 Ben yonson. 
 
 61 
 
 had been a bricklayer, and while he helped in the building 
 of Lincoln's Inn, with a trowel in his hand, he had a book 
 in his pocket. Despite the vicissitudes of his life, he was 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 for a quarter of a century the favorite poet of the Court, — 
 one that wrote masques not only for two kings to witness, 
 but for one to perform in ; the founder and chief orna- 
 
62 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 ment of clubs, where the greatest wits, scholars, and nobles 
 gathered round him. Above all, he was a rigid moralist, 
 fearless in his denunciation of public and private profligacy, 
 who crouched not to power or riches, but who stood up, 
 throughout his life, a lover of justice and a defender of 
 honor. 
 
 Following the steps of Mr. Edwin Goadby, let us saunter 
 through the city as it was while Shakespeare lived. At the 
 beginning of our walk we meet a gentleman of the period. 
 His doublet is of brilliant color and fine material, peaked, 
 purled, and slashed ; he wears a velvet cloak trimmed with 
 lace, and fastened with golden clasps ; a rapier hangs by his 
 side, the hilt gilded and jewelled ; and his shoes are decorated 
 with rosettes and silver buckles. He is a dandified figure, 
 with his flowers, scents, and trinkets, and his manner is ab- 
 surdly affected. But his dress denotes his class as prescribed 
 by law, and persons of other ranks are also required to dress 
 in a certain fashion by the same statute. 
 
 The materials of the 'prentices' are coarse, and their only 
 weapon is the knife ; the older citizens are permitted to wear 
 gayer doublets, a short sword, and cloaks of dark colored 
 cloths ; the yeoman appears in homespun russet in the sum- 
 mer and in frieze in winter; while the country gentleman's 
 attire is a brown or blue cloak, a plain doublet, and a feather- 
 less hat. The wearing of black is limited to doctors and stu- 
 dents of law and divinity, but the physicians are allowed to 
 dress as well as their purses will afford. 
 
 The ladies dress more extravagantly than the most dandi- 
 fied of the men. Their gowns are cut extremely low in the 
 bodice and puffed out in the sleeves ; their ornaments are 
 profuse. Around their necks are enormous ruffs, tinted in 
 various colors ; on their feet are high-heeled boots which add 
 to their stature, and hoods, cauls of golden thread, and 
 peaked caps are worn on their heads. 
 

1 558-1603. Elizabethan Theatres. 65 
 
 We wander through the narrow streets, picking our way 
 among the saucy 'prentices, the soberly clad burgesses, the 
 russet-hued countrymen, the clerks in black, and gallants 
 dressed like the one we have already met. Here, first of all, 
 is an inn with peaked gables and a swinging sign, and a play 
 is going on in the inn yard. The poorest of poor strollers in 
 our times would have a better theatre than this, which is one 
 of the last of its kind. There is no scenery, curtain, or or- 
 chestra. A raised platform a few feet square serves for the 
 stage, and thereon the players strut. In front of this a few 
 common wooden benches are stretched across the paving 
 stones, and these are occupied by the spectators, who also fill 
 the galleries or balconies around the yard, which lead into the 
 chambers of the inn. Apprentices abound, — some engaged 
 in busy gossip, some playing cards, while eating, smoking, 
 chaffing, and bustling are going on all around. But the gal- 
 leries are reserved for the better classes, — better in wealth, 
 though little better behaved than the apprentices. 
 
 Across the river, in Southwark, is one of the first of the 
 regular playhouses, Shakespeare himself being a member of 
 the company and acting in secondary parts, such as the ghost 
 in " Hamlet," and Adam in " As You Like It." Even here the 
 performance is given in a very primitive fashion. There is 
 no more scenery than in the inn yard. A few screens of 
 cloth give the actors an opportunity to make their exits and 
 entrances ; and in order to let the audience know the place 
 which is being represented, a placard is exhibited bearing 
 the name of London, Athens, Rome, or Florence, as the 
 case may be. When the scene is a bedroom, a bedstead is 
 shown on the stage ; when it is a tavern, some bottles and 
 glasses are displayed ; when it is a palace, a gilded chair sur- 
 mounted by a canopy is put forward ; and so a few articles 
 are made to symbolize a complete set of furniture. The 
 actors wear the dress of their own period, regardless of the 
 
 5 
 
66 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 time represented in the play; the assassins of Caesar are 
 armed with Spanish rapiers, and Carthaginian senators are 
 provided with watches. The dresses and other articles used 
 belong to persons who derive their livelihood from hiring these 
 articles at a fixed price per night to the performers. 
 
 Proceeding in our walk along some of the principal thor- 
 oughfares, we see the Thames, — its water pure and bright, 
 not the heavy, black flood of the nineteenth century. Tall 
 masts cluster by the banks ; silken-covered boats with ladies 
 and gentlemen sweep by; and along the water-side are the 
 palaces of the nobility, with steps leading down from their 
 gardens to the river. Here is a noisy tavern, — one of many, 
 for the Londoners are deep drinkers, — and here is a cook- 
 shop, with white-aproned cooks crying out, " Pies well baked," 
 and "Hot ribs of beef." 
 
 The Exchange is divided into two parts, — an upper one 
 full of bazars and stalls of costly goods, where fashionable 
 people lounge in the evening ; and a lower one, where the din 
 of Russian, Dutch, French, and Italian is distracting. 
 
 Now we come to a street full of poulterers, who exhibit 
 swans prepared for an approaching civic feast ; fat capons 
 over which a burly old soldier, whom we recognize to be Sir 
 John Falstaff, is gloating ; and wild ducks from Lincolnshire 
 and the marshes of the Thames. 
 
 Cheapside is beautiful to see. Robert Herrick, the poet, 
 who was born here, calls it "golden Cheapside," and the 
 epithet is exact and true. Goldsmiths' shops, exhibiting Ve- 
 netian gold cups, jugs, earrings, ornaments, and plaques, are 
 clustering together. Persian silks, Turkey carpets, Cashmere 
 shawls, and piles of glossy Paris thread are visible in some of 
 the windows, — the spoils of some Spanish carack that never 
 reached the end of her voyage. Curious eyes are upon them ; 
 a Papist in hiding glares savagely at these Catholic spoils ; a 
 jaunty Protestant thanks God, and lifts his ruffed neck a little 
 
 
155S-1603. The Crowd at St. P aid's. 69 
 
 higher in the air. The shops project on the pavement, — a 
 custom which has not yet been discontinued in some parts of 
 London, — and the tradesmen at their doors, or in front of 
 their shops, if unglazed, press us to spend our angels and half- 
 angels, with modulated entreaty and commendation. 
 
 In Bread Street every good house is an inn, each with its 
 sign either swinging overhead, or blazoned on its second 
 story, or stuck daintily over its main door. One called the 
 Mermaid is the meeting place of a club, and that gentleman 
 in the trunk hose, with meditative air, dreamy eyes, and 
 pointed chin, is Sir Walter Raleigh, entering to make inquiries 
 after Shakespeare and Fletcher. To-night, or, possibly, to- 
 morrow night, there will be a goodly company around the 
 square inn table, sitting on plain wooden chairs, and talking 
 wisely and wittily. 
 
 St. Paul's is not far away, and a wonderful sight the interior 
 presents. Hundreds of people are parading up and down in 
 their grand costumes, rattling their velvet-cased and gold- 
 tipped rapiers, tossing their feathered hats, throwing back 
 their laced cloaks to show their huge gold chains, shaking 
 their beards, toying with their love -locks, whispering, swear- 
 ing, hiring servants (" I bought him in St. Paul's," says Fal- 
 staff of Bardolph), talking of the new play and the last 
 pamphlet, the exploits of Drake, the whims of Philip of Spain. 
 They are Paul's men, or Paul's walkers, the fashionable 
 loungers of the day and their imitators, the wits and gulls, the 
 roisterers and the thieves ; needy men seeking a patron, the 
 lover reading his sonnet to a friend, the incomparable dandy 
 fluttering the town with his last foreign doublet or his copa- 
 tain hat. 
 
 Truly, as Dekker has it, " whilst devotion kneels at her 
 prayers, doth profanation walk under her nose in contempt 
 of religion." Characters disperse and rearrange themselves 
 like the bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. Puritans, with texts 
 
Jo Young Folks History of London. 
 
 of Scripture embroidered on their shirts ; the nobleman, ac- 
 quiring an appetite for his ordinary at the tavern hard by ; 
 the country squire, wondering and strange ; the thief and the 
 scholar ; the learned doctor and the rustic ; the priest and the 
 player, in black serge and red silk ; the sea-captain in blue ; 
 the Italian count in cherry velvet ; the dusky slave in his cot- 
 ton turban ; and the Spanish grandee ablaze with jewels and 
 gold, all mingle together for the student of life and character, 
 who may find here his Hamlet and his Mercutio, his Tybalt 
 and his Romeo. What a rich world it is to study, — a world 
 of comedy, romance, even tragedy, and a similar scene may 
 be witnessed in Temple Church, and even in Westminster 
 Abbey. 
 
 The streets are narrow and ill-paved. The narrower they 
 are, the greater is the silence below, and the louder the hum 
 of gossip in the upper stories after nightfall. Lights are hung 
 out of the upper windows. But many a crime is committed 
 in the shadows. 
 
 We may say with Mr. Goadby at the end of our walk : 
 " The pages of the great book wherein Shakespeare read have 
 been turned over for us, with their pageantry and pathos, their 
 vice and their ambition, their many-sided illustrations of life 
 and character. Scraps of conversation, familiar words, refer- 
 ences to current topics, specimens of foreign beaux and 
 ladies, have made it easier for us to understand how the 
 quick wit which studied in London should seem to have visited 
 so many countries and filled so many professions. Here he 
 passed the brightest years of his life, picturing what he saw, as 
 well as bodying forth ' the forms of things unknown.' 
 
 " When we come to dwell upon it, the references to London 
 in the historical plays are of a most striking character. They 
 show that the poet was familiar with its noble mansions as 
 well as its taverns and streets. He places scenes in the 
 Tower, at Whitehall, at Westminster Sanctuary, at York 
 
1 558-1603. SJiakespeare s Varied Life. 
 
 71 
 
 Place, in the Temple Gardens, at Baynard's Castle, at Ely 
 House, at Crosby Place, at Gloucester House, and several 
 other inns of note. The player associated with noblemen as 
 well as with the roisterers of taverns and the wits of his own 
 circle. He lived a rich, full, and varied existence. As for 
 the dramatist, he was always busy, studying mankind, reading 
 books, penning sonnets, composing plays, and probing his way 
 into men's hearts and the mysteries of invisible things." 
 
 ^-W-- " 
 
 THE GLOBE THEATRE 
 
Of London city I am free, 
 And there I first my wife did see, 
 And for that very cause,' said he, 
 ' I love it. 
 
 For though I am a man of trade, 
 And free of London city made, 
 Yet can I use gun, bill, and blade, 
 In battle.' " 
 Dryden's Miscellany. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE 'PRENTICE BOYS OF LONDON. 
 
 In the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. the famous 'pren- 
 tice boys of London became prominent. In those days, as 
 Sir Walter Scott tells us in the " Fortunes of Nigel," the shops 
 of the London tradesmen were very different from those of 
 the present time. 
 
 The goods were exposed for sale in cases, and were only 
 defended from the weather by a covering of canvas, the estab- 
 lishment resembling the stalls and booths of a country fair. 
 The shopkeepers of note had the sales-room connected with 
 an apartment which opened backward from it, and which 
 bore the same resemblance to the front shop that Robinson 
 Crusoe's cavern did to the tent which he erected before it. 
 To this the master often retreated, leaving the outer shop to 
 be looked after by his stout-bodied and strong-voiced appren- 
 tices, who kept up the cry, " What d' ye lack ? What d' ye 
 lack?" 
 
 They proclaimed the excellence of their wares, and they 
 had this advantage over those who in the present day use the 
 newspapers for advertising, — they could in many cases adapt 
 their address to the peculiar appearance and apparent taste 
 of the passers. 
 
 The direct and personal mode of invitation to customers 
 became, however, a dangerous temptation to the young wags 
 who were employed in the task of solicitation during the 
 absence of the principal person interested in the traffic ; and, 
 
74 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 confiding in their numbers and civic union, the 'prentices 
 of London were often seduced into taking liberties with the 
 passengers, and exercising their wit at the expense of those 
 whom they had no hopes of converting into customers by 
 their eloquence. If this were resented by any act of vio- 
 lence, the inmates of each shop were ready to pour forth in 
 succor ; and in the words of an old song which Dr. Johnson 
 used to hum, — 
 
 " Up then rose the 'prentices all, 
 Living in London, both proper and tall." 
 
 Desperate riots often arose, especially when the Templars, 
 or other youths connected with the aristocracy, were insulted, 
 or fancied they were. Upon such occasions, bare steel was 
 frequently opposed to the clubs of the citizens, and death 
 sometimes ensued on both sides. The alderman of the ward 
 had to call out the householders, and put a stop to the strife 
 by overpowering numbers, as the Capulets and Montagues 
 are separated upon the stage. 
 
 Scott gives a sketch of two characteristic 'prentice boys, 
 Jenkin Vincent (nicknamed Jin Vin) and Frank Tunstall, as 
 they stand before the door of their master, David Ramsay, 
 "memory's monitor, watchmaker, and constructer of horo- 
 loges to his Most Sacred Majesty, James I." 
 
 According to custom, they have waited on his table at the 
 one o'clock dinner, and have themselves dined with two 
 female domestics. They now stand, crying their wares : — 
 
 " In this species of service Jenkin Vincent left his more 
 reserved and bashful comrade far in the background. The 
 latter could only articulate with difficulty, and as an act of 
 duty which he was rather ashamed of discharging, the estab- 
 lished form of words, — ' What d' ye lack ? What d' ye lack ? 
 Clocks — watches — barnacles ? What d' ye lack ? Watches 
 
1603. Bantering Customers. 77 
 
 — clocks — barnacles ? What d' ye lack, sir ? What d' ye 
 lack, madam ? Barnacles — watches — clocks ? ' 
 
 " But this dull and dry iteration, however varied by diver- 
 sity of verbal arrangement, sounded flat when mingled with 
 the rich and recommendatory oratory of the bold-faced, deep- 
 mouthed, and ready-witted Jenkin Vincent. \ What d' ye 
 lack, noble sir? What d'ye lack, beauteous madam?' he 
 said, in a tone at once bold and soothing, which often was so 
 applied as both to gratify the persons addressed, and to ex- 
 cite a smile from other hearers. ' God bless your rever- 
 ence ! ' to a beneficed clergyman, ' the Greek and Hebrew 
 have harmed your reverence's eyes. Buy a pair of David 
 Ramsay's barnacles. The King — God bless his Sacred 
 Majesty ! — never reads Hebrew or Greek without them.' 
 
 " ' Are you well advised of that ? ' said a fat parson from the 
 Vale of Evesham. ' Nay, if the Head of the Church wears 
 them — God bless his Sacred Majesty ! — I will try what they 
 can do for me ; for I have not been able to distinguish one 
 Hebrew letter from another since — I cannot remember the 
 time — when I had a bad fever. Choose me a pair of his 
 Most Sacred Majesty's own wearing, my good youth.' 
 
 " ' This is a pair, and please your reverence,' said Jenkin, 
 producing a pair of spectacles which he touched with an air 
 of great deference and respect, i which his most blessed 
 Majesty placed this day three weeks on his own blessed 
 nose ; and would have kept them for his own sacred use, but 
 that the setting, being, as your reverence sees, of the purest 
 jet, was, as his Sacred Majesty was pleased to say, fitter for 
 a bishop than for a secular prince.' 
 
 " ' His Sacred Majesty the King,' said the worthy divine, 
 ' was ever a very Daniel in his judgment. Give me the bar- 
 nacles, my good youth, and who can say what nose they may 
 bestride in two years hence? Our reverend brother of 
 Gloucester waxes in years.' He then pulled out his purse, 
 
yS Young- Folks History of London. 
 
 paid for the spectacles, and left the shop with even a more 
 important step than that with which he had paused to 
 enter it. 
 
 " ' For shame ! ' said Tunstall to his companion ; ' these 
 glasses will never suit one of his years.' 
 
 " ' You are a fool, Frank, ' said Vincent, in reply ; ' had the 
 good doctor wished glasses to read with, he would have tried 
 them before buying. He does not want to look through 
 them himself, and these will serve the purpose of being looked 
 at by other folks, as well as the best magnifiers in the shop. 
 What d' ye lack? ' he cried, resuming his solicitations. ' Mir- 
 rors for your toilette, my pretty madam ; your head-gear is 
 something awry — pity, since it is so well fancied.' The 
 woman stopped and bought a mirror. ' What d' ye lack ? — 
 a watch, Master Sergeant — a watch that will go as long as a 
 lawsuit, as steady and true as your own eloquence ? ' 
 
 " ' Hold your peace, sir,' answered the Knight of the Coif, 
 who was disturbed by Vin's address whilst in deep consulta- 
 tion with an eminent attorney ; ' hold your peace ! You are 
 the loudest-tongued varlet betwixt the Devil's Tavern and 
 Guildhall.' 
 
 " ' A watch,' reiterated the undaunted Jenkin, ' that shall 
 not lose thirteen minutes in a thirteen years' lawsuit. He 's 
 out of hearing. A watch with four wheels and a bar-move- 
 ment, — a watch that shall tell you, Master Poet, how long 
 the patience of the audience will endure your next piece at 
 the Black Bull' The bard laughed, and fumbled in the 
 pocket of his slops till he chased into a corner, and fairly 
 caught, a small piece of coin. 
 
 " ' Here is a tester to cherish thy wit, good boy,' he said. 
 
 " ' Gramercy,' said Vin ; ' at the next play of yours I will 
 bring down a set of roaring boys that shall make all the crit- 
 ics in the pit, and the gallants on the stage, civil, or else the 
 curtain shall smoke for it.' 
 
i6o3- A Call to Battle. 79 
 
 " ' Now, that I call mean,' said Tunstall, ' to take the poor 
 rhymer's money, who has so little left behind.' 
 
 " ' You are an owl, once again,' said Vincent ; ' if he has 
 nothing left to buy cheese and radishes, he will only dine a 
 day the sooner with some patron or some player, for that is 
 his fate five days out of the seven.' 
 
 " The well-known cry of ' 'Prentices — 'prentices — Clubs 
 — clubs ! ' now rang along Fleet Street ; and Jenkin, snatch- 
 ing up his weapon, which lay beneath the counter ready at 
 the slightest notice, and calling to Tunstall to take his bat and 
 follow, leaped over the hatch-door which protected the outer 
 shop, and ran as fast as he could towards the affray, echoing 
 the cry as he ran, and elbowing, or shoving aside, whoever 
 stood in his way. His comrade, first calling to his master to 
 give an eye to the shop, followed Jenkin's example, and ran 
 after him as fast as he could, but with more attention to the 
 safety and convenience of others ; while old David Ramsay, 
 with hands and eyes uplifted, a green apron before him, and 
 a glass which he had been polishing thrust into his bosom, 
 came forth to look after the safety of his goods and chattels, 
 knowing, by old experience, that, when the cry of ' Clubs ' 
 once arose, he would have little aid on the part of his appren- 
 tices." 
 
He who is tired of London is tired of existence." 
 
 Dr. Johnson,, 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LONDON UNDER THE STUARTS- 
 
 Still in the company of Scott let us now walk from Temple 
 Bar in the direction of Westminster. Temple Bar was not, 
 in the time of James I., the arched screen or gateway of the 
 present century ; but an open railing, or palisade, which, at 
 night, and in times of alarm, was closed with a barricade of 
 posts and chains. The Strand, also, was not, as now, a con- 
 tinued street, although it was beginning already to assume 
 that character. It still might be considered as an open road, 
 along the south side of which stood various houses and hotels 
 belonging to the nobility, having gardens behind them down 
 to the water side, with stairs to the river, for the convenience 
 of taking boat, which mansions have bequeathed the names 
 of their lordly owners to many of the streets leading from the 
 Strand to the Thames. The north side of the Strand was 
 also a long line of houses, behind which, as in Saint Martin's 
 Lane, and other points, buildings were rapidly arising ; but 
 Covent-Garden was still a garden, in the literal sense of the 
 word, or at least but beginning to be studded with irregular 
 buildings. All that was passing around, however, marked 
 the rapid increase of a capital which had long enjoyed peace, 
 wealth, and a regular government. Houses were rising in 
 every direction, and the shrewd eye of the citizen already 
 saw the period not distant which should convert the nearly 
 open highway on which he travelled into a connected and 
 regular street, uniting the court and the town with the city of 
 London. 
 
 6 
 
82 Yotmg Folks' History of London. 
 
 Charing-Cross was no longer the pleasant solitary village at 
 which the judges were wont to breakfast on their way to 
 Westminster Hall, but began to resemble the artery through 
 which, to use Johnson's expression, " pours the full tide of 
 London population." The buildings were rapidly increasing, 
 yet scarcely gave even a faint idea of its present appear- 
 ance. 
 
 Whitehall beyond was now full of all the confusion attend- 
 ing improvement. It was just at the time when James, little 
 suspecting that he was employed in constructing a palace 
 from the window of which his only son was to pass in order 
 that he might die upon a scaffold before it, was busied in 
 removing the ancient and ruinous buildings of De Burgh, 
 Henry VIII., and Queen Elizabeth, to make way for the 
 superb architecture on which Inigo Jones exerted all his 
 genius. 
 
 In the reign of James occurred the celebrated gunpowder 
 plot. Places had been changed between the Roman Catho- 
 lics and the Protestants since the time of Queen Mary. It 
 was the former who now were persecuted, and though James 
 had promised to countenance their religion, he enforced the 
 many harsh laws enacted against them by Queen Elizabeth. 
 It was in a spirit of vengeance that some fanatics belonging 
 to the sect plotted to blow up the Parliament House when 
 the king, the royal family, and the members of the Commons 
 and of the Lords were all assembled at the opening of the 
 session. 
 
 The author of the plot was a gentleman named Catesby, 
 who found a willing lieutenant in another gentleman named 
 Percy, a descendant of the illustrious house of Northumber- 
 land. Four others joined them, — one named Thomas Winter, 
 another Robert Keyes, another Thomas Bates, and another 
 Guy Fawkes, a Spanish soldier of fortune. More were after- 
 wards added to their number, and all were sworn to secrecy, 
 
GUY FAWKES DISCOVERED. 
 
1604. The Plot Revealed. 85 
 
 the sacrament being given to them as a pledge of the sacred- 
 ness of their oaths. 
 
 Percy was well acquainted at Court, and, as he was less 
 likely to be an object of suspicion than the others, he was 
 selected to hire lodgings at Westminster, from which a sub- 
 terranean passage could be dug to the Parliament House. 
 There happened to be a cellar to let directly under the house, 
 however, and this was rented for the storage, it was said, of 
 winter fuel, which was put in charge of Guy Favvkes, who 
 passed as Percy's servant, and took the name of John Johns- 
 ton. Fuel there was in the cellar, piles of fagots and logs, as 
 any one could see, for the door was never fastened ; but 
 under these, hidden from view, and awaiting the conspirators' 
 opportunity, were thirty- six barrels of gunpowder. 
 
 Though communicated to more than twenty persons, the 
 secret was kept for more than a year, but ten days before 
 the meeting of Parliament one of the conspirators, fearing 
 for the safety of Lord Monteagle, a relative, who would be 
 present in Parliament, sent him the following anonymous 
 letter : — 
 
 " My Lord, out of the love I bear to some of your friends, 
 I have a care of your preservation, therefore I would advise 
 you, as you tender your life, to shift off your attendance at 
 this parliament, for God and man have concurred to punish 
 the wickedness of this time. And think not slightingly of 
 this advertisement, but retire yourself into your country, 
 where you may expect the event in safety ; for though there 
 be no appearance of any stir, yet, I say, they will receive a 
 terrible blow this parliament, and yet they shall not see who 
 hurts them." 
 
 Lord Monteagle showed the letter to several persons, in- 
 cluding the king, and a suspicion of its true meaning led to 
 a search of all the places and apartments near the Parlia- 
 ment ^House. The cellar was not overlooked, and there Guy 
 
86 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 
 Fawkes was discovered in readiness to fire a train of gunpow- 
 der which led to the concealed barrels. 
 
 Learning of the arrest of Guy Fawkes, the other conspir- 
 ators fled from London, and were pursued. Catesby, Percy, 
 and two others were killed, while defending themselves, in 
 a house in which they had taken shelter, and the rest were 
 captured and hanged in the Palace Yard. 
 
 The anniversary of the 5th of November, 1605, on which 
 day the plot was to have been consummated, is still celebrated 
 in England by bonfires, fireworks, and the burning in effigy of 
 Guy Fawkes. It is to English boys what the Fourth of July is 
 to American boys, and in connection with it a curious custom 
 is preserved : about two hours before the Queen arrives to 
 open Parliament the vaults under the buildings are carefully 
 searched by the Lord Chamberlain, who, on his return, 
 gravely reports that no gunpowder has been discovered. 
 
 In the reign of the unfortunate and misguided Charles 
 London attained a position to assert that independence for 
 which it had paid so much and struggled so long. The city 
 was then closely inhabited by three hundred thousand per- 
 sons, to whom it was not merely a place of business but a 
 place of constant residence. It had as complete a civil and 
 military organization as if it had been an independent repub- 
 lic. Each citizen had his company, the members of which 
 were almost as closely bound together as the members of a 
 highland clan. The municipal offices were filled by the 
 most opulent and respectable merchants of the kingdom. 
 The pomp of the magistracy of the capital was inferior only 
 to that which surrounded the person of the sovereign. The 
 Londoners loved their city, says Macaulay, with that patriar- 
 chal love which is found only in small communities, like those 
 of ancient Greece, or like those which arose in Italy during 
 the Middle Ages. The numbers, the intelligence, the wealth 
 of the citizens, the democratic form of their local govern- 
 
1625. 
 
 City Soldiery. 
 
 89 
 
 ment, and their vicinity to the Court and to Parliament, 
 made them one of the most formidable bodies in the king- 
 dom. Even as soldiers they were not to be despised. A 
 city which could furnish many thousands of armed men, 
 
 CHARLES I. 
 
 abounding in natural courage, and not absolutely undisci- 
 plined, was a power in times of dissension ; and on several 
 occasions during the civil war the London troops distin- 
 guished themselves highly. 
 
90 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 When Charles I. sought to impeach Hampden, Pym, and 
 others, the citizens instantly took up arms to defend the 
 patriots. The shops were closed ; the streets were filled with 
 immense crowds ; the multitude pressed round the king's 
 coach and insulted him. He had marched into the House 
 of Commons at the head of a band of armed men, and had 
 intended to arrest the members who had offended him, but 
 they had been warned of his approach and had hidden. In 
 a few days the Commons openly defied the king, and ordered 
 the fugitives to attend in their places at Westminster, and to 
 resume their parliamentary duties. The citizens of London 
 resolved to escort these patriots back to Parliament, and to 
 carry them past the windows of Whitehall Palace, where 
 Charles lived, and which had been so recently reconstructed 
 by his father. The people hooted and shouted all day before 
 the gates of the royal residence. The tyrant king could' not 
 bear to see the triumph of those he had destined to the 
 gallows. On the day preceding that which was fixed for the 
 return of Hampden and the rest to the House of Commons, 
 he fled from that palace at Whitehall which he was never to 
 see again until he was led through it to the scaffold. 
 
 On the nth of January the Thames was covered with 
 boats, and its shores with a gazing multitude. Armed ves- 
 sels, decorated with streamers, were ranged in two lines from 
 London Bridge to Westminster Hall. The members re- 
 turned upon the river in a ship manned by sailors who had 
 volunteered their services. The trainbands, or militia, of the 
 city, under the command of the sheriffs, marched along the 
 Strand, attended by a vast crowd of spectators, to guard 
 the avenues of the House of Commons ; and thus, with shouts 
 and large discharges of ordnance, the accused patriots were 
 brought back by the people whom they had served and for 
 whom they had suffered. The restored members, as soon as 
 they had entered the House, expressed, in the warmest terms, 
 
JpWf 
 
 EXECUTION OF CHARLES THE FIRST. 
 
1642. 
 
 Power of the City. 
 
 93 
 
 their gratitude to the citizens of London. The sheriffs were 
 thanked by the speaker in the name of the Commons ; and 
 orders were given that a guard selected from the trainbands 
 of the city should attend daily to watch over the safety of 
 the Parliament. 
 
 London had thus become a great power in the nation. 
 " But for the hostility of the city, Charles I. would never 
 
 BURIAL OF CHARLES THE FIRST. 
 
 have been vanquished," says Macaulay; "and without the 
 help of the city, Charles II. could scarcely have been re- 
 stored." 
 
 Nevertheless the citizens usually had a smiling face for 
 royalty ; and if they sometimes made a show of defiance, 
 they very often became alarmed at the extent of their own 
 courage, and hastened to retreat from that attitude. James I. 
 published a " Book of Sports," authorizing pastimes on Sun- 
 
94 Young Folks History of London, 
 
 day, and, notwithstanding the license given, the Lord Mayor 
 opposed this desecration of the Sabbath, even ordering the 
 king's carriage to be stopped when it drove through the 
 city during divine service. This threw James into a great 
 rage. 
 
 " I thought that I was king," he exclaimed. 
 
 " Ah, then," said the mayor, " if the king relieves me of 
 my superiority in the city, it is evidently proper for me to 
 obey his Majesty ; " and he allowed the carriage to pass. 
 
 In the reign of Charles II. London had a population of 
 about half a million, and compared with other cities of the 
 kingdom it was proportionately larger at that time than it 
 is now. At present it has only about six times the population 
 of Liverpool, but it then had seventeen times as many inhab- 
 itants as the largest of the other cities. 
 
 This reign was an eventful one for the great city. A pes- 
 tilence swept away more than a hundred thousand human 
 beings in six months ; and the dead-cart had scarcely ceased 
 to go its rounds, when a fire laid the whole city in ruins. 
 Both of these calamities are described in separate chapters. 
 The gayeties of the city were eclipsed by the severity of the 
 Puritans, and its civic festivals were shorn of some of their 
 famous splendor. But it rose from its ashes like a modern 
 Chicago, and the celerity with which it was rebuilt excited 
 the admiration of other countries. 
 
 Though Charles II. revoked the old charter of the city, 
 the external splendor of the municipal government was not 
 diminished. Under the administration of the Puritans the 
 ancient fame of the city had declined, but with the Restoration 
 the mayor and aldermen displayed the greatest luxuriance 
 and hospitality. On great occasions the mayor appeared 
 on horseback, attended by a long cavalcade inferior in mag- 
 nificence only to that which before a coronation escorted the 
 sovereign from the Tower to Westminster. He was never seen 
 

1660-1685. Condition of Streets. 97 
 
 in public without his rich robe, his hood of black velvet, his 
 gold chain, his jewel, and a retinue of servants. Nor did the 
 world find anything ludicrous in the pomp which surrounded 
 him, for it was not more than became the acknowledged dig- 
 nity of London. That city, says Macaulay, exercised almost 
 as great an influence on the politics of England as Paris exer- 
 cises on the politics of France. London was superior in in- 
 telligence to the rest of the kingdom, and a government which 
 had the support of the city could obtain as much money from 
 it in a day as would have taken months to collect elsewhere 
 in the country. The military resources of the capital were 
 also great. The power which the lord lieutenants exercised 
 in other parts of the kingdom was in London intrusted to a 
 commission of eminent citizens. Under the orders of. this 
 commission were twelve regiments of foot and two regiments 
 of horse, a little army of drapers' apprentices and journey- 
 men tailors, with common-council men for captains, and 
 aldermen for colonels. 
 
 But though London had its palaces, in thinking of it as it 
 was in the time of Charles II., we must not imagine that it 
 at all resembled a well-managed modern city. Sanitary sci- 
 ence was then unknown, and even the principal streets were 
 filthy beyond description. The gutters were filled with liquid 
 refuse, which was spurted right and left as the carriages 
 passed through it, and people were obliged to hug the walls 
 to prevent themselves from being splashed. When two per- 
 sons pressing against the wall met, one, of course, had to 
 give way, and disputes as to which it should be were com- 
 mon. If two roisterers met, they cocked their hats in each 
 other's faces, and pushed each other about till the weaker 
 was shoved towards the puddle. If he was a mere bully he 
 sneaked off; but if he was pugnacious the encounter ended 
 in a duel. 
 
 A graphic picture of this period is given by Macaulay. The 
 
9 8 
 
 Yon Jig Folks' History of London. 
 
 houses were not numbered, but this did not matter, for few- 
 persons could read, and it was necessary to use marks which 
 the most ignorant could understand. The shops were dis- 
 tinguished by painted signs, which gave a gay and grotesque 
 aspect to the streets. 
 
 When evening closed in the difficulty and danger of walk- 
 ing about became serious indeed. Pails were emptied from 
 
 the garret windows with little 
 regard for those who were 
 passing below. The streets 
 were unlighted, and the pave- 
 ments were so full of holes 
 that falls were of constant 
 occurrence. Thieves and 
 robbers plied their trade with 
 impunity, and young black- 
 guards of good birth and 
 social position swaggered 
 about by night, breaking 
 windows, and insulting both 
 men and women. 
 
 But in the last part of 
 Charles's reign the police 
 force was strengthened, and 
 the streets were lighted. Ed- 
 ward Heming obtained the 
 exclusive privilege of illumi- 
 nating London. He undertook, for a moderate consideration, 
 to place a light before every tenth door, on moonless nights, 
 from Michaelmas to Lady Day, and from six to twelve of the 
 clock. Those who now see the city illuminated night after 
 night with thousands of lamps may smile to think of Flem- 
 ing's lanterns, which glimmered feebly before one house in 
 ten during a small part of one night in three. But though a 
 
 FALCONER TO JAMES I. 
 
A LORD MAYOR. 
 
1660-1685. Establishment of Coffee-Houses. 101 
 
 few of his contemporaries opposed the improvement, most 
 of them praised the new light enthusiastically, and asked 
 what were the boasted achievements of Archimedes com- 
 pared with the achievements of a man who had turned the 
 nocturnal shades into noonday. 
 
 Light and police were much needed. A few yards away 
 from Fleet Street was a region inhabited by thieves and out- 
 laws, — Alsatia or Whitefriars, which retained the privilege 
 belonging to the monks, who gave the place the latter name, 
 of protecting debtors from arrest. No honest person was 
 safe, and the police were unable to protect within these 
 precincts. The privilege of sanctuary intended for debtors 
 only was extended to criminals of all kinds, and at the cry of 
 " Rescue ! " a fierce rabble rushed out to attack any intruder. 
 Yet within a short walk of this cesspool were the chambers 
 in which Somers was studying history and law, the chapel in 
 which Tillotson was preaching, the coffee-house in which 
 Dryden was criticising poems and plays, and the hall in which 
 the Royal Society was examining the discoveries of Isaac 
 Newton. 
 
 Any one who wishes to learn more about Alsatia should 
 read Scott's " Fortunes of Nigel." 
 
 The coffee-houses became recognized institutions about 
 this time, and the large number of them especially distin- 
 guished London from other cities. There were no papers 
 then, and in these houses of entertainment the citizens 
 assembled to learn and discuss the news while they smoked 
 and sipped coffee or more intoxicating beverages. Every 
 rank and profession, and every shade of religious and political 
 opinion, had its own coffee-house. There were houses near 
 St. James Park in which the fops congregated, dressed in 
 Parisian attire. The atmosphere was like that of a perfumer's 
 shop, and even the snuff (the only form of tobacco used) 
 was scented. There were other houses in which the tobacco 
 
102 Yowig Folks' History of Lofidofi. 
 
 smoke was like a fog, and at some of these the literary men 
 gathered, including John Dryden. The great aim of the 
 customers here was to get near the poet's chair, which was 
 always in the warmest nook near the fire, and to hear his 
 opinions on the last tragedy was thought a privilege. There 
 were other houses, again, in which the leading doctors and 
 medical students met; others which depended on Puritans 
 for customers ; others restricted to Jews ; and others where, 
 as good Protestants believed, Jesuits planned another great 
 fire and cast silver bullets to shoot the king. 
 
 The Londoner of the period was a being different from the 
 other inhabitants of England : the influence of the great city 
 had sharpened him, and his country cousins were amazed at 
 his wit. The country cousins were overcome with the size 
 and bustle of London then, as they are when they come from 
 the rural counties now, and the historian gives us an amusing 
 account of the misadventures of a squire in visiting the 
 metropolis. " He was as easily distinguished from the 
 resident population as a Turk or a Lascar. His dress, his 
 gait, his accent, the manner in which he stared at the shops, 
 stumbled into the gutters, and stood under the waterspouts, 
 marked him out as an excellent subject for the operations of 
 swindlers. Bullies jostled him into the mud, and the hackney 
 coachmen splashed him from head to foot. Thieves explored 
 with perfect security the huge pockets of his horseman's coat, 
 while he stood entranced by the splendors of the Lord Mayor's 
 show. Rogues sore from recent whippings at the cart's-tail 
 introduced themselves to him, and appeared to him the most 
 honest, friendly gentlemen that he had ever seen. If he asked 
 his way to St. James's, his informant sent him to Mile End, the 
 opposite direction. If he went into a shop, he was instantly 
 discovered to be a fit purchaser of everything that nobody 
 else would buy, — of second-hand embroidery, copper rings, 
 and watches that would not go. If he rambled into any 
 

 ^Z5^E3^tm~ 
 
 A LADY MAYORESS. 
 
1660-1685- The Royal Society. 105 
 
 fashionable coffee-house, he became a mark for the derision 
 of fops and the grave waggery of Templars. Enraged and 
 mortified, he soon returned to his mansion, and there, in the 
 homage, of his tenants, and the conversation of his boon com- 
 panions, found consolation for the vexations and humiliations 
 which he had undergone." 
 
 The reign of the second Charles was a period of social 
 folly and political corruption, which an Englishman cannot 
 look back upon without a feeling of shame. But out of the 
 waste sprang up one flower of science. Science became a 
 fashion, and the frivolous king encouraged the pursuit of it, 
 perhaps from the love of it, and perhaps, as some historians 
 say, to divert the minds of his subjects from his own misgov- 
 ernment. He himself was a chemist, and took an interest in 
 the problems of navigation. One of his few good works was 
 the founding of the Royal Society, which marks the opening 
 of a great age of scientific discovery. Poets and courtiers, 
 wits and fops, joined it. The Duke of Buckingham varied 
 his rhyming, drinking, and fiddling, by fits of devotion to the 
 laboratory. Prince Rupert gave serious hours of study to the 
 curious glass toys which bear his name. But with the true 
 science were mixed all sorts of chimeras, as we may see in 
 the following extracts from the catalogue of objects in a 
 museum connected with the Society : — 
 
 The quills of a porcupine, which on certain occasions the 
 creature can shoot at the pursuing enemy and erect at 
 pleasure. 
 
 The flying squirrel, which for a good nut-tree will pass a 
 river on the bark of a tree, erecting his tail for a sail. 
 
 The leg bone of an elephant, brought out of Syria for the 
 thigh bone of a giant. In winter, when it begins to rain, elephants 
 are mad, and so continue from April to September, chained to 
 some tree, and then become tame again. 
 
 Tortoises, when turned on their backs, will sometimes fetch 
 deep sighs and shed abundance of tears. 
 
106 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 A humming bird and nest, said to weigh but twelve grains ; 
 his feathers are set in gold, and sell at a great rate. 
 
 A bone, said to be taken out of a mermaid's head. 
 
 The largest whale, liker an island than an animal. 
 
 The white shark, which sometimes swallows men whole. 
 
 A siphalter, said with its suckers to fasten on a ship, and 
 stop it under sail. 
 
 A stag beetle, whose horns, worn in a ring, are good against 
 the cramp. 
 
 A mountain cabbage. One reported three hundred feet high. 
 
 Thus, though science was dawning, the heads of its 
 devotees were still full of dreams. 
 
 Many of their contemporaries perceived the chimeras 
 which the members were pursuing, and the author of 
 " Hudibras " also laughed at the philosophers. Swift has 
 satirized them, and has given us the following caricature 
 of one of them : " The first man I saw was of a meagre 
 aspect, with sooty hands and face, his hair and beard long, 
 ragged, and singed in several places. His clothes, shirt, and 
 skin were all of the same color. He had been eight years 
 on a project for extracting sunbeams out of cucumbers, 
 which were to be put in phials hermetically sealed, and let 
 out to warm the air in raw, inclement summers. He told 
 me he did not doubt that, in eight years more, he should be 
 able to supply the governor's gardens with sunshine at a 
 reasonable rate ; but he complained that his stock was low, 
 and entreated me to give him something as an encourage- 
 ment to ingenuity." 
 
 We have forgotten to mention a curious feature of the 
 celebrations which signalled the restoration of Charles II. 
 
 Cromwell placed two regiments in the House of Com- 
 mons with the intention of forcing the members to condemn 
 Charles I. Forty-one of the legislators were imprisoned, and 
 one hundred and six were ordered, like schoolboys, to go 
 
1660-1685. Roasting the Rump. 107 
 
 home, all of these being loyal to the king. The remaining 
 sixty were favorable to the Protector, and at a later period 
 they were derisively named the Rump, i. e., the rump or fag- 
 end of the whole House. 
 
 When Charles II. came into power there were great re- 
 joicings. Bonfires were lighted in the Strand and Fleet 
 Street, and effigies of the Rump were hanged, burned, and 
 pelted with stones. 
 
 " Praise God Barebones " lived in Fleet Street, and while 
 the effigies were burning the mob attacked his house. The 
 Puritans had had their day, and their future lay far beyond 
 London. 
 
" Life and Thought have gone away 
 Side by side, 
 
 Leaving door and windows wide : 
 Careless tenants they ! 
 
 " All within is dark as night ; 
 In the windows is no light ; 
 And no murmur at the door, 
 So frequent on its hinge before. 
 
 " Close the door, the shutters close, 
 
 Or through the windows we shall see 
 The nakedness and vacancy 
 Of the dark, deserted house. 
 
 "Come away; no more of mirth 
 Is here or merry-making sound. 
 The house was builded of the earth, 
 And shall fall again to ground. 
 
 " Come away : for Life and Thought 
 Here no longer dwell ; 
 But in a city glorious — 
 A great and distant city — have bought 
 A mansion incorruptible. 
 
 Would they could have stayed with us." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE PLAGUE. 
 
 The plague was anticipated before it appeared as an epi- 
 demic, and a close watch was kept on ships coming from ports 
 where the awful disease prevailed. But it is supposed that 
 some infected person evaded the quarantine authorities, and 
 introduced the pestilence into London. Occasional cases 
 were discovered for some months before it became general, 
 and when the hot weather of the summer of 1665 set in, it 
 broke out with a virulence that swept away about one hundred 
 thousand persons in six months. 
 
 All who could afford to do so fled as soon as the danger 
 of remaining became apparent. Shops were shut up, fac- 
 tories closed, and ships did not dare to come near the 
 afflicted city. Persons who were well at noon were dead 
 before night. Entire families were carried off, and their 
 houses left open and uncared for. Streets which had been 
 thronged were deserted, and instead of the shrill cries of 
 trade the shrieks of the bereaved pierced the air as the dead- 
 cart came along to carry young and old, without funeral rite, 
 to the vast common pits which superseded the ordinary 
 graves. The stricken houses were marked with a large red 
 cross, and the words " Lord have mercy upon us " were 
 painted on the doors. From the moment this sign appeared 
 the house was closed, and no one was allowed to leave it. 
 The well were shut up with those persons in the same family 
 who were afflicted, and the disease was communicated from 
 one person to another until all were dead. 
 
no Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 Daniel Defoe, the author of "Robinson Crusoe," was 
 only four years old at this time, but he has left a narrative 
 of the plague which, though it is in part a work of imagi- 
 nation, embodies many true incidents, and gives a more vivid 
 account of the calamity than any other work. 
 
 Let us turn to his pages, then, for some pictures of the 
 incidents which might have been observed by any one con- 
 fined in the city at this unfortunate period. 
 
 The face of London became strangely altered, and was all in 
 tears. Nobody put on black, or even made a formal dress of 
 mourning for their nearest friends ; but the shrieks of women 
 and children at the windows and doors of their houses were 
 so frequent that it was enough to pierce the stoutest heart in 
 the world. Tears were seen in nearly every house, but 
 towards the end men's hearts became hardened, and death 
 was so constantly before them, that they did not care much 
 for the loss of their friends, expecting that they themselves 
 would be summoned the next hour. 
 
 Quacks of all sorts took advantage of the terror of the 
 people to impose charms and nostrums upon them ; absurd 
 predictions were made in almanacs, and fanatics rushed 
 through the streets prophesying the destruction of the city. 
 One of the latter in particular cried, like Jonah to Nineveh, 
 " Yet forty days, and London shall be destroyed." Another 
 ran about naked, except a pair of drawers about his waist, 
 crying day and night, " Oh ! the great and the dreadful 
 God ! " repeating these words continually, with a voice and 
 countenance full of horror. Nobody ever saw him stop or 
 rest, or take any sustenance. 
 
 These things terrified the people to the last degree ; and 
 next to them were the dreams of old women, or the inter- 
 pretation by old women of other people's dreams, which 
 put many out of their wits. Some heard voices warning 
 them to be gone, and saying there would be such a plague 
 
SOLOMON EAGLE. 
 
1665. Old Time Guards. 113 
 
 in London that the living would not be able to bury the 
 dead; others saw apparitions in the air. The imagination 
 of the people was really turned wayward and possessed : 
 and they saw shapes and figures, representations and appear- 
 ances, which had nothing in them but air and vapor. Here, 
 they said, they saw a flaming sword held in a hand, coming 
 out of a cloud, with a point hanging directly over the city \ 
 there they saw hearses and coffins in the air, and there again 
 heaps of dead bodies lying unburied. 
 
 These terrors made them an easy prey to the quacks, and 
 the posts of houses and the corners of streets were plastered 
 all over with advertisements of " infallible preventative pills 
 against the plague," " never-failing preservatives against the 
 infection," "sovereign cordials against the corruption of the 
 air," and "royal antidotes against all kinds of infections." 
 
 The methods of the impostors were much the same as 
 they are now, as may be seen from the following specimens 
 of their announcements : — 
 
 An eminent High-Dutch physician, newly come over from 
 Holland, where he resided during all the time of the great 
 plague last year in Amsterdam, and cured multitudes of people 
 that actually had the plague upon them. 
 
 An Italian gentlewoman, just arrived from Naples, having 
 a choice secret to prevent infection, which she found out by 
 her great experience, and did wonderful cures with it in the 
 late plague there, wherein there died twenty thousand in one 
 day. 
 
 An ancient gentlewoman, having practised with great success 
 in the late plague in this city, anno 1636, gives her advice only 
 to the female sex. To be spoken with, &c. 
 
 An experienced physician who has long studied the doctrine 
 of antidotes against all sorts of poison and infection, has, after 
 forty years' practice, arrived at such skill as may, with God's 
 blessing, direct persons how to prevent being touched by any 
 contagious distemper. He directs the poor gratis. 
 
 8 
 
H4 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 One swindler sought to entrap the poor by offering them 
 advice for nothing, as in the advertisement above given, and 
 large numbers of persons went to him, hoping to be benefited. 
 The gist of his advice was to buy a medicine which he had 
 for sale. " But, sir," said one woman, " I am a poor alms- 
 woman, and am kept by the parish, and your advertise- 
 ments say you give the poor your help for nothing." "Ay, 
 good woman," replied the quack, " so I do ; I give my ad- 
 vice but not my physic ! " " Alas, sir," said she, " that is a 
 snare laid for the poor, then : you advise them gratis to buy 
 your physic for their money ; so does every shopkeeper with 
 his wares." Here the woman began to give him ill words, 
 and stood at his door all that day telling her tale to the 
 people that came, till the doctor, finding she turned away 
 his customers, was obliged to call her upstairs again and give 
 her his box of physic for nothing, which, perhaps, too, as 
 Defoe says, was good for nothing when she had it. 
 
 The plague defied all medicines. The very physicians 
 were seized with it, with their preservatives in their mouths ; 
 and men went about prescribing to others and telling them 
 what to do, till the tokens were upon them, and they dropped 
 down dead, destroyed by that very enemy they directed 
 others to oppose. This was the case of several physicians, 
 even some of the most eminent, and of several of the most 
 skilful surgeons. Many quacks also died, who had the folly to 
 trust in their own medicines, and who ought rather, like other 
 thieves, to have run away, sensible of their guilt, from the jus- 
 tice that they could not but expect should punish them. 
 
 Many consciences were awakened, many hard hearts melted 
 into tears, and many a penitent confession was made of crimes 
 long concealed. Many a robbery, many a murder, was then 
 confessed aloud. People might be heard even in the streets 
 calling upon God for mercy through Jesus Christ, and say- 
 ing, " I have been a thief ; I have been an adulterer ; I have 
 been a murderer," and the like. 
 
1665. One of Defoe s Stories. 115 
 
 One story we reproduce almost entirely in Defoe's own 
 language : — 
 
 "As I went along Houndsditch one morning about eight 
 o'clock there was a great noise. A watchman had been em- 
 ployed to keep his post at the door of a house which was 
 infected, and shut up. He had been there all night for 
 two nights together, as he told his story, and the day-watch- 
 man had now come to relieve him. All this while no noise 
 had been heard in the house, and no light had been seen. 
 The inmates had called for nothing, and had sent him on no 
 errands, which used to be the chief business of the watch- 
 men ; neither had they given him any trouble from Monday 
 afternoon, when he heard a great crying and screaming in 
 the house, occasioned, as he supposed, by some of the 
 family dying just at that time. It seems the night before the 
 watchman came on duty the dead-cart, as it was called, had 
 been stopped there, and a servant-maid had been brought 
 down to the door dead, and the buriers, or bearers, as they 
 were called, had put her into the cart, wrapped only in a 
 green rug, and carried her away. 
 
 "The watchman had knocked at the door, and nobody 
 had answered, until at last one looked out and said, with 
 an angry, quick tone, and yet a kind of crying voice, or a 
 voice of one that was crying, ' What d' ye want, that you make 
 such a knocking?' He answered, 'I am the watchman. 
 How do you do ? What is the matter ? ' The person an- 
 swered, 'What is that to you? Stop the dead-cart.' This, 
 it seems, was about one o'clock ; soon after, as the fellow said, 
 he stopped the dead-cart and then knocked again, but no- 
 body answered. He continued knocking, and the bell-man 
 cried several times, ' Bring out your dead ; ' but still nobody 
 answered, and the driver, being called to other houses, drove 
 away. 
 
n6 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 " The watchman knew not what to make of all this, so he 
 let them alone till the morning-man, or day-watchman, as they 
 called him, came to relieve him. Giving him an account of 
 the particulars, they knocked at the door a great while, but 
 nobody answered, and they observed that the window or 
 casement, at which the person looked out who had answered 
 before, continued open, being up two pair of stairs. 
 
 " Upon this the two men, to satisfy their curiosity, got a long 
 ladder, and one of them went up to the window, and looked 
 into the room, where he saw a woman lying dead upon the 
 floor, in a dismal manner, having no clothes on her but her 
 shift ; but though he called aloud, and, putting in his long staff, 
 knocked hard on the floor, yet nobody stirred or answered, 
 neither could he hear any noise in the house. 
 
 " He came down again upon this, and acquainted his fellow, 
 who went up also, and finding it just so they resolved to ac- 
 quaint either the Lord Mayor or some other magistrate of it, 
 but did not offer to go in at the window. The magistrate, it 
 seems, upon the information of the two men, ordered the 
 house to be opened, a constable and other persons being 
 appointed to be present, that nothing might be plundered ; 
 and this was so done. Nobody was found in the house but 
 that young woman, who having been infected and past re- 
 covery, had been left to die by herself. Every one else was 
 gone, having found some way to elude the watchman, and 
 to get open the door, or get out at some back door or over 
 the tops of the houses, so that he knew nothing of it ; and 
 as to those cries and shrieks which he heard, it was sup- 
 posed they were the passionate cries of the family at this 
 bitter parting, the body being that of the sister to the mis- 
 tress of the family. The man of the house, his wife, several 
 children and servants, had all gone and fled, whether sick 
 or sound, I could never learn, nor, indeed, did I make 
 much inquiry after it. 
 
1665. Evading the Law, 117 
 
 " At another house, as I was informed, in the street next 
 within Aldgate, a whole family was shut up and locked in, 
 because the maid- servant was taken sick. The master of the 
 house had complained by his friends to the next alderman, 
 and to the Lord Mayor, and had consented to have the maid 
 carried to the pesthouse, but was refused ; so the door was 
 marked with a red cross, a padlock being fastened on the 
 outside, and a watchman set to keep the door, according to 
 public order. 
 
 " After the master of the house found that there was no 
 remedy, and that he, his wife, and his children were locked 
 up with this poor distempered servant, he called to the 
 watchman, and told him he must go and fetch a nurse to 
 attend the poor girl, as it would be certain death to them 
 all if they were obliged to nurse her; he also told him 
 plainly that, if he would not do this, the maid would perish 
 either of the distemper, or be starved for want of food, for 
 he was resolved none of his family should go near her, and 
 she lay in the garret, four story high, where she could not 
 cry out or call to anybody for help. 
 
 " The watchman consented and went and fetched a nurse, 
 as he was appointed, and brought her to them the same 
 evening. During this interval the master of the house took 
 his opportunity to break a large hole through his shop into a 
 bulk or stall, where formerly a cobbler had sat before or under 
 his shop window ; but the tenant, as may be supposed, at 
 such a dismal time as that, was dead or removed, and so the 
 trespasser had the key in his own keeping. Having made 
 his way into this stall, which he could not have done if the 
 watchman had been at the door, the noise he was obliged to 
 make being such as would have alarmed the latter, — I say, 
 having made his way into this stall, he sat still till the watch- 
 man returned with the nurse, and all the next day also ; but 
 the night following, having contrived to send the watchman on 
 
Ii8 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 another trifling errand, which, as I take it, was to an apothe- 
 cary's for a plaster for the maid, which he was to stay for the 
 making up, or some other such errand that might secure his 
 staying some time ; in that time he conveyed himself and all 
 his family out of the house, and left the nurse and the watch- 
 man to bury the poor wench, that is, throw her into the cart, 
 and take care of the house. 
 
 " Not far from the same place they blew up a watch- 
 man with gunpowder, and burnt the poor fellow dreadfully ; 
 and while he made hideous cries, and nobody would venture 
 to come near to help him, the whole family that were able to 
 stir got out at the windows, one story high ; two that were 
 left sick calling out for help, care was taken to give them 
 nurses to look after them ; but the persons fled were never 
 found, till after the plague was abated they returned ; but as 
 nothing could be proved, so nothing could be done to them. 
 
 " In other cases, some had gardens and walls, or pales 
 between them and their neighbors; or yards and back- 
 houses ; and these, by friendship and entreaties, would 
 get leave to get over those walls or pales, and so go out 
 at their neighbors' doors ; or by giving money to their ser- 
 vants, get them to let them through in the night, so that, in 
 short, the shutting up of houses was in nowise to be de- 
 pended upon ; neither did it answer the end at all, serving 
 more to make the people desperate, and drive them to such 
 extremities as that they would break out at all adventures." 
 
 The terror of the people increased. Some went crying 
 and wringing their hands along the streets, calling upon God 
 for mercy. One fanatic named Solomon Eagle went about 
 quite naked, with a pan of burning charcoal on his head, re- 
 peating the words, " Spare us, good Lord, spare thy people 
 whom thou hast redeemed with thy most precious blood ! " 
 
 Hundreds of bodies were buried in one pit, being tossed 
 
1665. End of the Plague. 119 
 
 into it like stones from the carts, without any ceremony. In 
 the delirium of their pain many threw themselves out of win- 
 dows, or shot themselves, and mothers murdered their own 
 children in their frenzy. 
 
 London, indeed, presented a terrible picture of desolation. 
 The grass grew in the principal thoroughfares ; and the few 
 persons who ventured to walk in the streets crossed from side 
 to side to avoid one another. 
 
 In September there were a few days when the deaths 
 decreased, but these were followed by a fresh outburst of the 
 disease, which carried off ten thousand persons in one week. 
 The autumn equinox was at hand, however, and its winds 
 purified the air. The disease gradually disappeared ; thou- 
 sands of people gladly returned to their homes, and in 
 the following February the king was again established at 
 Whitehall. 
 
Heavens, what a pile ! whole ages perished there ; 
 And one bright blaze turned learning into air ! " 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE GREAT FIRE. 
 
 Scarcely had the plague disappeared when, as we have 
 said, London was visited by another great calamity. The 
 city at this time was full of wooden houses, covered with 
 pitch, and, as we have seen, most of the streets were ex- 
 tremely narrow. The great sign-boards that hung out from 
 every shop almost touched each other from opposite sides, 
 and made links of communication, in case of fire, hardly less 
 effective than trains of gunpowder. In fact, if one house 
 caught fire it was next to impossible to save those adjoining 
 it, as only the lightest wind was necessary to carry the sparks 
 from it to them. 
 
 The authorities seem to have been aware of the danger to 
 which the city was exposed from this source. In the reign 
 of Richard I. it was ordered that all persons living in large 
 houses should have a ladder ready to succor their neighbors 
 in case of fire ; that they should have a barrel full of water 
 before their doors; that the city should provide an iron 
 crook, such, no doubt, as is used by modern hook and ladder 
 companies, and that the beadle should have " a good horn, 
 loudly sounding." 
 
 Perhaps these ordinances were disregarded in the reign of 
 Charles II., and at all events they could not have been of 
 much use in so inflammable a city as London then was. If 
 there had been the electric telegraph, instead of a good horn, 
 to summon aid, and steam fire-engines, instead of tubs of 
 
122 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 water, to extinguish the flames, they would scarcely have 
 saved London from the conflagration which broke out on 
 Sunday morning, Sept. 2, 1666. 
 
 The fire originated at a baker's shop in Pudding Lane near 
 New Fishstreet Hill, and being driven by a strong northeast 
 wind, it rapidly spread to the contiguous buildings, most of 
 which were of lath and plaster and wood. 
 
 There lived in London at this time a garrulous gentleman 
 named Samuel Pepys, the secretary of the navy, who kept a 
 record of whatever came under his notice ; and his Diary, 
 which is a most useful work of historic reference, gives among 
 other things a good account of the fire. He tells how his 
 maid-servants had been sitting up till after midnight on Satur- 
 day preparing Sunday's dinner, and how they called him at 
 about three o'clock in the morning to tell him of a great 
 blaze which they could see in the city. Three hundred houses 
 had been burned down by daybreak, and the flames were 
 then increasing, having seized on London Bridge. The 
 people were in a panic, and, instead of uniting to put the fire 
 out, rushed hither and thither, each looking after his own 
 property. 
 
 Pepys hurried off to see the king at Whitehall, and the 
 latter gave orders that all houses in the way of the fire should 
 be pulled down. He then returned to the city. " I walked 
 along Watling Street as well as I could," he writes, " every 
 creature coming away loaded with goods to save, and here 
 and there sick people carried away in beds. Extraordinary 
 good goods carried in carts and on backs. At last met my 
 Lord Mayor in Canning Street, like a man spent, with a 
 handkercher about his neck." 
 
 When Pepys gave him the king's orders the mayor seemed 
 quite overpowered and exclaimed, " What can 1 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." 
 
1 666. Mr. Pepys's House in Danger, 125 
 
 By this time people were filling the churches with their 
 property, little suspecting how many of these massive struc- 
 tures would be consumed ; but the fire still spread both east 
 and west, and those who a few hours before had thought their 
 dwellings secure from the flames began now to tremble, and 
 in hot haste to remove their goods to any shelter they could 
 find. In many cases furniture was removed twice if not three 
 times, the place at first deemed safe being in a few hours in 
 danger. 
 
 The peremptory order still was to pull down houses as the 
 only means of stopping the flames, — the principle being just 
 the same as that which dictates the cutting away of a tract of 
 grass before a prairie fire. 
 
 It is not possible to exaggerate the horror and confusion 
 which prevailed. Many people were so overcome with 
 misery and despair that they made hardly any efforts to 
 lessen the calamity, though most of them struggled hard to 
 save their property. Mr. Pepys, whose house was in the very 
 heart of the city, did not fear at first for his own premises, but 
 the second day of the fire he grew so alarmed that he began 
 removing his valuables. By Monday, the 4th, it was com- 
 puted that there were above ten thousand houses in flames, 
 and the heat was so terrible that no one could approach the 
 conflagration. 
 
 The fire now reached the Temple on the west and Tower 
 Street on the east, including, besides Fenchurch Street and 
 Gracechurch Street (which had been the earlier prey), Fleet 
 Street, Ludgate Hill, the Old Bailey, Newgate, Watling Street, 
 Warwick Lane, Thames Street, and Billingsgate. A number 
 of churches, as well as St. Paul's and the Royal Exchange, 
 were consumed. Some of the burning buildings looked like 
 palaces of fiery gold or burnished brass, and the stones of 
 the cathedral are described as flying about like shot. Two 
 hundred thousand people were made homeless. 
 
1 26 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 "All the side," says Evelyn, a writer of the period, who, 
 like Pepys, has left us a valuable diary, " 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, who now saw ten thousand houses 
 all in one flame ; the noise and crackling and thunder of the 
 impetuous flames, the shrieking of women and children, the 
 hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses, and churches, was 
 like an hideous storme, and the aire all about so hot and in- 
 flam'd that at last one was not able to approch it, so that 
 they were forc'd to stand still and let the flames burn on, 
 which they did for neere two miles in length and one in 
 bredth. The clowds also of smoke were dismall and reached 
 upon computation neere fifty-six miles in length. Thus I 
 left it this afternoone burning, a resemblance of Sodom, or of 
 the last day." 
 
 By Tuesday, the 5 th, the fire reached Holborn and the 
 entrance of Smithfield, but the wind now fell, and there was 
 more hope of staying the progress of the flames. Instead of 
 being pulled down, the houses were blown up with gunpowder, 
 a measure which some seamen proposed, and which might 
 have saved the whole city had not some avaricious men 
 refused to adopt it. But it was some days yet before the 
 conflagration was completely extinguished, and on the 7th 
 Evelyn records the " extraordinary difficulty " of walking 
 among the ruins and " clambering over heaps of yet smoking 
 rubbish ... the ground under my feet being so hot that it 
 even burnt the soles of my shoes." 
 
 Very few lives were lost in the fire, but the misery of the 
 homeless multitude was great. The king went among the 
 people, distributing money to them, and issued a proclama- 
 tion for their relief; but they were too numerous to be prop- 
 erly housed, and they were glad of the shelter of tents and 
 huts in the open country all round London. Eighty-eight 
 
1 666. Wrens Plans for Rebuilding the City. 127 
 
 churches and thirteen thousand two hundred houses had 
 been consumed, and the loss of property was estimated at 
 #36,925,000. 
 
 Nevertheless the people bore up with extraordinary forti- 
 tude. " They beheld," says an old writer, " the ashes of 
 their houses, gates, and temples without the least expression 
 of pusillanimity. If philosophers had done this, it had well 
 become their profession of wisdom ; if gentlemen, the noble- 
 ness of their breeding and blood would have required it ; but 
 that such greatness of heart should be found amongst the 
 poor artisans and the obscure multitude is no doubt one of 
 the most honorable events that ever happened." 
 
 Within three days of the close of the fire Sir Christopher 
 Wren, the great architect, submitted plans to the king for the 
 rebuilding of the city. He proposed to have the Exchange 
 in the centre, with ten streets, each sixty feet wide, converg- 
 ing to it. The smallest streets were to be thirty feet wide, 
 excluding all narrow, dark courts and alleys without thorough- 
 fares. 
 
 The churches were to occupy commanding positions along 
 the principal thoroughfares, and to be designed according to 
 the best forms for capacity and hearing, and adorned with 
 useful porticos and lofty ornamental towers and steeples in 
 the greater parishes. 
 
 Wren intended that the churchyards should be carefully 
 planted and adorned, and be a sort of girdle round the 
 town, wishing them to be an ornament to the city, and also 
 a check upon its growth. To burials within the walls of the 
 town he strongly objected, and the experience derived from 
 the year of the plague proved the soundness of his judg- 
 ment. 
 
 The London bank of the Thames was to be lined with a 
 broad quay, along which the halls of the City Companies 
 were to be built, with suitable warehouses in between for the 
 
128 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 merchants, to vary the effect of the edifices. The little 
 stream whose name survives in Fleet Street was to be 
 cleansed, and made serviceable as a canal, one hundred 
 and twenty feet wide, running much in the line of the 
 present Holborn Viaduct. 
 
 These were the main features of Christopher Wren's plan, 
 and had it been followed London might have been without 
 its dark, crooked lanes, and without its smoke. The river 
 would have been honored not only with the handsome quay 
 it has at length obtained, but with a line of beautiful build- 
 ings and fair spires ; and, above all, St. Paul's would have 
 had an ample space around it, giving free play to its grand 
 proportions. 
 
 The narrow-mindedness of the land-owners, disputes about 
 the value of property, and a reluctance to alter the use of 
 sites which had been long identified with certain businesses, 
 led to the defeat of Wren's proposal, and the opportunity 
 was lost of making London one of the handsomest cities of 
 the world. Some changes for the better were made, how- 
 ever. Brick and stone instead of wood were used in rebuild- 
 ing the houses ; the drainage was improved, and the streets 
 were widened. 
 
 Several blessings, indeed, resulted from the disaster. Lon- 
 don had often been stricken by the plague, which had proved 
 so fatal in 1665, but that disease never reappeared after 
 the fire, which, no doubt, destroyed the germs that hung 
 about the old tenements and dark alleys. Wren, moreover, 
 had some opportunity to adorn the city. He was the archi- 
 tect of the present St. Paul's Cathedral, and also built fifty- 
 one other churches, several of which remain among the most 
 beautiful buildings which London has. 
 
 How the fire originated is a mystery ; but a lofty monu- 
 ment marks the spot where it began. When it was first 
 erected the monument bore an inscription to the effect 
 
1 666. Popes Couplet. 129 
 
 that the conflagration had been caused by Roman Catholics. 
 When James II. came to the throne these words were erased, 
 but they were restored and cut in deep characters during the 
 time of William III. In the earlier part of the present cen- 
 tury, however, the inscription was finally removed. It had 
 always fostered ill-feelings ; and to it Pope alluded in his 
 famous couplet : — 
 
 " Where London's column, pointing to the skies, 
 Like a tall bully, lifts its head and lies." 
 
" London is not a poetical place to look at, but surely it is poetical 
 in the very amount and comprehensiveness of its enormous experience 
 of pleasure and pain. ... It is one of the great giant representatives 
 of mankind, with a huge beating heart, and much of its vice and 
 misery." — Leigh Hunt. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 IN THE REIGN OF QUEEN ANNE. 
 
 In the reign of Queen Anne one tenth of the whole popu- 
 lation of England and Wales was in London, and the second 
 town in size was Bristol, which had only one seventeenth as 
 many people in it as the former city. Attempts were made 
 to limit the growth of this ever-increasing metropolis ; but 
 people insisted on flocking to it, and its bounds were widened 
 every year. 
 
 London still consisted of two parts, the city and Westmin- 
 ster, which are now united by a continuous line of buildings. 
 The city represented the secular interests, and Westminster, 
 with its Abbey and Houses of Parliament, the political and 
 ecclesiastical interests. The Exchange was the commercial 
 centre, and, more than that, had become what it has since 
 remained, the centre of the commerce of the world. 
 
 " There is no place in the town which I so much love to 
 frequent as the Royal Exchange," wrote Addison. " 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 
 private business of mankind, and making this metropolis a 
 kind of emporium for the whole earth." 
 
 Englishmen had further cause for satisfaction than in their 
 commercial supremacy. The great Duke of Marlborough 
 was adding Blenheim and Ramillies to the long roll of British 
 victories, while at home literature was being enriched by 
 
132 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 Addison, Steele, Fielding, Swift, Pope, Congreve, Prior, Gay, 
 and a galaxy of other famous writers, whose genius has given 
 to this the name of the Augustan Age. 
 
 Some of these were members of the Kit-Kat Club, an 
 association of authors and noblemen, which met in a lane 
 nearly opposite Child's Bank in the Strand. 
 
 It was the custom of this aristocratic club to elect some 
 reigning beauty as a toast every year, and to write epigram- 
 matic verses in her honor, which were etched with a diamond 
 on the club glasses. One evening the Duke of Kingston nomi- 
 nated his little daughter, Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, who 
 was then only eight years old. 
 
 " She is prettier than any beauty on the list," he declared,- 
 " and you shall see her." 
 
 A chaise was instantly sent for her, and presently she was 
 ushered in, blushing, and dressed in her best. She was 
 elected queen by acclamation. The gentlemen drank her 
 health, feasted her with sweetmeats, kissed her, and inscribed 
 her name on the glasses. Later in life, when describing this 
 experience, Lady Mary wrote : " Pleasure was too poor a 
 word to express my sensations. They amounted to ecstasy. 
 Never again throughout my whole life did I pass so happy an 
 evening." 
 
 One of the members of the club was Dr. Garth, who was 
 reproved by Steele one night for remaining when his patients 
 were pining for him. 
 
 " I have only fifteen calls to make," he said, " and a delay 
 will not matter. Nine of the patients have such bad consti- 
 tutions that all the physic in the world could not save them ; 
 and the other six have such good constitutions that all the 
 physicians in the world could not kill them." 
 
 Addison and the other wits of the time were frequenters of 
 Will's coffee-house on the north side of Russell Street at the 
 corner of Bow, where Dryden had formerly sat in arbitration 
 

 QUEEN ANN E 
 
1702-1714- Will's Coffee- House. 135 
 
 on the merits of new poems and plays. Chance visitors 
 were not much encouraged at such coffee-houses as Will's, 
 and a man had to be of some note to be welcome. The 
 coffee-house was used like a club of our own day, as a place 
 where two friends could meet quietly and discuss a subject, — 
 religious, political, or literary. 
 
 After the death of Dryden Will's lost its attractiveness, and 
 Addison transferred his custom to a neighboring house, which 
 one of his servants named Button had opened, where he 
 could be seen nearly every day, usually accompanied by 
 Richard Steele, and where many numbers of the " Specta- 
 tor " and the " Tatler " were written. Pope, Swift, Davenant, 
 and Dr. Arbuthnot were also frequenters of this coffee-house. 
 While Swift was yet a stranger to the other patrons of the 
 place, they called him the Mad Parson. He knew no one 
 and no one knew him. He would lay his hat on a table, and 
 walk up and down at a brisk pace for half an hour without 
 speaking to any one. Then he would snatch up his hat, pay 
 his money at the bar, and walk off without having opened 
 his lips. 
 
 Though in wealth and population London was already the 
 first city of the world, it had few of the public conveniences 
 of modern life. The drainage was poor, the lighting was 
 insufficient, and the pavements were never in order. Even 
 until the time of George III. peaceable citizens had no 
 adequate protection from thieves and rowdies. The streets 
 were infested by a number of young men who called themselves 
 Mohocks, and who amused themselves by assaulting watch- 
 men and rolling women in tubs. Those persons who could 
 afford it were usually attended by a body-guard of servants ; 
 and at night it was never safe to go forth unarmed. The 
 attempts made in 1 763 to organize something like a police 
 force are recorded by the chroniclers of the day with an air 
 of importance which shows how much protection was needed. 
 
136 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 The streets, indeed, were used by individuals without any 
 regard to the general convenience. Football was played in 
 the most populous of them, and there was a Maypole in the 
 Strand until 17 13. The middle of them was usually occu- 
 pied by open drains, and posts constituted the only distinc- 
 tion between the foot-way and the carriage-way. The space 
 within the posts was sometimes so narrow that only one per- 
 son could pass at a time, and hence those contests for the 
 wall to which we have already alluded. Dr. Johnson de- 
 scribes how these quarrels were common when he first 
 came to London, and how, at length, things were better 
 ordered. 
 
 In wet and gusty weather the unhappy walker heard the 
 crazy signs swinging over his head. The spouts of every 
 house were streaming at his feet, or drenching his laced hat 
 and powdered wig with unpitying torrents. At every step 
 some projection was in his way ; chimney-sweeps and coal- 
 heavers jostled against him, and the bearers of the sedan 
 chairs, in which ladies and gentlemen were carried to and 
 fro, crowded him into the gutter. These were not days for 
 pedestrians. Great holes gaped in the pavement, and open 
 vaults were unprotected by any fence. 
 
 Writing upon the city, and referring to the narrowness of 
 the streets, Davenant inquired : " Is your climate so hot 
 that as you walk you need umbrellas of tiles to intercept the 
 sun ? or are your shambles so empty that you are afraid to 
 take in fresh air lest it sharpen your stomachs? . . . The 
 garrets are so made that opposite neighbors may shake 
 hands without stirring from home." 
 
 Looking at the London of to-day, with its well-swept 
 streets and smooth pavements, its millions of lights, its civil 
 policemen, its thousands of cabs and omnibuses, and the 
 wonderful apparatus by which it is fed and relieved of its 
 refuse, it is hard to imagine how dirty and unimproved it 
 
1702-1714- Slovenliness of the City. 139 
 
 was scarcely more than a century ago. The reader will be 
 interested in learning how it was transformed from its 
 former slovenliness to its present condition ; but before 
 describing this we will give a brief account of the " No 
 Popery " riots which occurred in the reign of George III. 
 
" I have often amused myself with thinking how different a place 
 London is to different people. They whose narrow minds are con- 
 tracted to the consideration of some one particular pursuit view it 
 only through that medium. A politician thinks of it merely as the 
 seat of government in its different departments ; a grazier, as a vast 
 market for cattle ; a mercantile man, as a place where a prodigious 
 deal of business is done upon 'Change ; a dramatic enthusiast, as the 
 grand scene of theatrical entertainments ; a man of pleasure, as an 
 assemblage of taverns, and the great emporium for ladies of easy vir- 
 tue ; but the intellectual man is struck with it as comprehending the 
 whole of human life in all its variety, the contemplation of which is 
 inexhaustible." — Boswell. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE GORDON RIOTS. 
 
 An intense hatred of the Roman 
 Catholics existed in London, and 
 the most severe laws were enacted 
 against them., forbidding them to 
 educate their children except in 
 Protestant schools, and prevent- 
 ing them from inheriting property f/h 
 and purchasing land. A few per- 
 sons of intelligence, including Sir 
 George Saville, recognized the in- 
 justice of these laws, however, and 
 in 1778, through their efforts, some 
 of the harshest clauses were repealed. 
 
 Now, a hundred years ago most of the people read very 
 little ; but they talked among themselves a great deal. 
 Stories of the persecution of Protestants when the Roman 
 Catholics were in power had been handed down from father 
 to son for many generations, and even dull minds were excited 
 by apprehensions of the evils which would come, should the 
 Roman Catholics be emancipated. The lower classes, espe- 
 cially, were enraged at the passing of Sir George Saville's 
 bill, and denounced it in the bitterest terms. 
 
 Meetings were held, at which, no doubt, the speakers fanned 
 each other's fury, and angry pamphlets were circulated all 
 over the country. Meanwhile there was a member of Parlia- 
 
142 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 ment, Lord George Gordon, who was a mixture of the fanatic, 
 the demagogue, and the fool. He was a brother of the Duke 
 of Gordon, and doubtless had all the advantages of education 
 becoming his station. 
 
 Lord George had long been noted for his eccentric dress 
 and strange behavior, though up to this period he had 
 been considered only a harmless oddity. At an early age he 
 entered the navy, but had left it in consequence of discontent, 
 and an altercation about his promotion. After obtaining a 
 seat in Parliament he distinguished himself by attacking all 
 classes of politicians, sometimes, it must be owned, with a 
 sort of cleverness ; and after a time the saying got about that 
 there were three parties in the House, namely, the Ministers, 
 the Opposition, and Lord George. 
 
 This was the man who denounced Sir George Saville's bill 
 of relief in the most violent and unreasonable manner. He 
 soon became the idol of the uneducated people, and a society 
 was formed called the Protestant Association, with him as 
 president, to which so many persons subscribed that there 
 was no lack of money to print pamphlets, and get up peti- 
 tions asking for the repeal of the bill. 
 
 Probably because George III. would give him no hope of 
 assistance, he insinuated that the king was at heart a papist, 
 and declared in Parliament that the mass of the Scotch nation 
 were of that opinion. He talked of coming down to the 
 House with a hundred and fifty thousand men at his back ; 
 and in the spring of 1780 he conceived the idea of a peti- 
 tion, the signatures to which should make it long enough to 
 reach from the Speaker's chair to Whitehall. 
 
 At a meeting of the Protestant Association he announced 
 his intention of presenting this petition on the 2d of June, 
 with the members of the Association and their friends in pro- 
 cession. Every one was to wear a blue cockade in his hat to 
 distinguish him, and all were to meet in St. George's Fields. 
 

1780. The Rioters Petition. 145 
 
 When the day arrived, not less than sixty thousand men 
 assembled at the spot appointed. They began to gather by 
 ten o'clock in the morning, and marshalled themselves in 
 ranks, waiting for their leader. "About eleven o'clock," 
 says the " Annual Register," " Lord George arrived, and 
 gave directions in what manner he would have them pro- 
 ceed ; and about twelve one party was ordered to go round 
 over London Bridge, another over Blackfriars, and a third 
 to follow him over Westminster." The petition was borne 
 before them, on the head of a tall man. They proceeded 
 with perfect decorum, six abreast, and the multitude re- 
 united before the Houses of Parliament about half-past two 
 o'clock, raising a great shout. 
 
 They had been joined, however, by many vagabonds 
 and pickpockets, and a number of heedless youths who 
 were only alive to the prospect of noisy excitement. It 
 very soon became apparent that this unruly section was get- 
 ting the upper hand. Not content with flaunting their own 
 blue cockades and shouting " No Popery," they waylaid 
 members of Parliament, and insisted on their also wearing 
 the cockades, and joining in the party cry. 
 
 The mob took possession of the avenues leading to the 
 Houses of Parliament, and twice attempted to force the 
 doors. As the members approached they were attacked, 
 and some of them narrowly escaped with their lives. We 
 can fancy what a scene must have presented itself inside the 
 Houses when the members, with disordered hair and torn 
 clothes, and in many instances wounds, at last obtained an 
 entrance. All were angry and excited, and all clamored for 
 action, though no one seemed to know clearly what action to 
 take. Several attempted to speak at the same time, and little 
 could be distinctly understood, as the hooting and shouting 
 outside were deafening. 
 
 Meanwhile Lord George Gordon added fuel to the fire 
 
146 
 
 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 by coming several times to the top of the gallery stairs and 
 addressing the people, telling them of the treatment their 
 petition was likely to meet with. He mentioned several mem- 
 bers who were opposed to it, and said that there was some 
 talk of postponing the petition until the following Tuesday, 
 but that, for his own part, he did not like delays, as Parlia- 
 ment might be prorogued by that time. Afterwards, he made 
 
 a still more inflammatory 
 speech, encouraging the 
 idea that the king, dis- 
 mayed by the numbers 
 who were assembled, 
 would himself interfere 
 on their behalf. 
 
 General Conway and 
 several other members 
 warned him in strong lan- 
 guage of the mischief he 
 was doing by such ha- 
 rangues, and Colonel Gor- 
 
 SANDALS. ° 
 
 don, a near relation, went 
 up to him and said, " My Lord George, do you intend to 
 bring your rascally adherents into the House of Commons? 
 If you do, the first man of them that enters, I will plunge 
 my sword, not into his, but into your, body." 
 
 While Lord George was making his second speech another 
 of his relations, General Grant, came behind him and en- 
 deavored to draw him away, entreating him not to lead this 
 mass of people into danger. But his words did more harm 
 than good ; for Lord George, instead of answering him, pro- 
 ceeded to say, in addressing the mob, " You see in this effort 
 to dissuade me from my duty before your eyes an instance 
 of the difficulties I have to encounter from such wise men of 
 this world as my honorable friend behind my back." 
 
1780- Introducing the Petition. 147 
 
 Alderman Sawbridge and some others now tried to induce 
 the people to clear the lobby, — to which they had forced an 
 entrance, — but without success ; and matters were so serious 
 that soon afterwards some soldiers arrived to enforce order. 
 Justice Addington, who appeared at the head of the troops, 
 was received with hisses ; but on his assuring the people that 
 he would order the soldiers away if they would only promise 
 to disperse, he gained their good opinion. The cavalry gal- 
 loped off, and about six hundred of the petitioners departed, 
 though not till they had given three cheers for the magistrate. 
 
 When order was restored, Lord George introduced his 
 petition, declaring it had nearly a hundred and twenty thou- 
 sand signatures, and he moved that it should be taken into 
 immediate consideration ; the House divided, and there ap- 
 peared six for the petition and a hundred and ninety-two 
 against it. Soon afterwards the House adjourned, and, as it 
 was supposed that the mob had dispersed, the soldiers were 
 ordered home. 
 
 But though order was restored in Westminster, the rioters 
 were busy elsewhere, and had burned two Catholic chapels. 
 The next day, Saturday, was quiet; but on the afternoon 
 of Sunday they again assembled in great force, and stripped 
 several chapels of all ornaments, tearing up altars, pews, and 
 pulpits to make bonfires of them. They also sacked several 
 houses. 
 
 The 4th of June was the king's birthday, and falling on a 
 Sunday it was observed in the usual manner on the following 
 day. George III. was, at that time especially, a much-beloved 
 king, and his birthday was always kept as a festival. As was 
 usual, he held a drawing-room, and an ode written by the 
 Poet Laureate was chanted in his honor. But while the car- 
 riages and sedan chairs of the nobility were taking them to 
 Court, the " blue cockades " were busy doing infinite mis- 
 chief in other parts of the town. They wreaked their ven- 
 
148 
 
 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 geance on several tradesmen who had given evidence against 
 some of them, by plundering the shops ; and a detachment 
 of the mob. made its way to Leicester Fields to attack the 
 house of Sir George Saville, which they stripped before set- 
 ting fire to the building. 
 
 On the morning of Tuesday, the 6th, both Houses of Par- 
 liament met. A detachment of foot-guards was placed in 
 
 Westminster Hall ; but the 
 mob waylaid the Peers and 
 Commoners, and insulted 
 and maltreated them just 
 K as they had done on the 
 
 %J^^% MrK/ ' Friday - Mr ' Hyde ' the 
 
 justice, rode among them 
 
 with the cavalry, hoping 
 to disperse them ; but the 
 soldiers were so afraid of 
 exceeding the law that 
 they would not even strike 
 with the flat of their 
 BEARDS ' swords. 
 
 Mr. Hyde paid dearly for his generous and patriotic con- 
 duct, for the mob raised the cry of "To Hyde's house, 
 ahoy ! " and proceeding to St. Martin's Lane, where he lived, 
 they speedily wrecked his dwelling. 
 
 There was great indignation in the House of Commons 
 when Lord George appeared wearing the hated blue cockade. 
 One member, Colonel Herbert, declared his resolve not to sit 
 and vote in the House while the noble lord wore the ensign 
 of riot in his hat, and vowed that if his lordship did not re- 
 move it he would do it for him. Lord George seemed cowed 
 by this threat, for he took the cockade from his hat and put it 
 in his pocket. 
 
 The mob was now more dangerous and ungovernable than 
 
1780. Newgate Burned. 149 
 
 ever. The more respectable members of the Protestant 
 Association, alarmed at the destruction which had taken 
 place, had withdrawn from the scene, and the rioters con- 
 sisted mainly of pickpockets, burglars, and the vilest dregs 
 of the populace. While the House of Commons was sit- 
 ting they attacked the house of the Prime Minister, Lord 
 North, but some soldiers prevented them from destroying 
 it. Foiled in this, they marched on to Newgate, vow- 
 ing they would break open the prison and release their 
 fellows who had been imprisoned there since Friday. They 
 were armed with crow-bars and pickaxes and heavy sledge- 
 hammers • and when the governor refused to give up their 
 comrades they attacked his door and flung the furniture out 
 of the window, and set fire to his dwelling by throwing fire- 
 brands and combustibles into it. While it was burning they 
 attacked the strong door of the prison with their tools ; and 
 finding it did not yield they brought heaps of the governor's 
 furniture, which they piled against the door and ignited. 
 
 From the governor's house the flames spread to the prison 
 chapel, and thence to some passages leading to the wards. 
 On perceiving this the mob raised shouts and yells of tri- 
 umph, which mingled with the cries of the prisoners, some of 
 whom were rejoicing in the expectation of release, while 
 others were afraid of the fire. The rioters had broken into 
 the governor's cellar, and maddened themselves with wine 
 and spirits till their ferocity knew no bounds. 
 
 Many of them had themselves at one time or another 
 been prisoners in Newgate, and were well acquainted with its 
 interior ; and led on by these the crowd made a rush through 
 the gaps caused by the fire, and soon found themselves 
 masters of the place. Three hundred criminals, four under 
 sentence of death, were thus released, not one being left 
 behind, and not one perishing in the flames. They joined 
 the roaring multitude, and shouted gleefully at seeing the 
 
150 Yoimg Folks History of London. 
 
 new, strong prison consumed by fire. Newgate prison had 
 been lately rebuilt at a vast expense, but by the next morning 
 nothing remained of it except the blackened walls. 
 
 After burning Newgate the next proceeding of the mob 
 was to break open Clerkenwell prison and release the prison- 
 ers there. Aided by this reinforcement they attacked the 
 houses of two very active magistrates, Mr. Cox and Sir John 
 Fielding, and then with increasing fury proceeded to Blooms- 
 bury Square, where Lord Mansfield resided. Already they 
 felt themselves so completely masters of London, that they 
 compelled the terrified citizens to illuminate their houses 
 and hang out flags and banners with the inscription, " No 
 Popery," upon them. Even the Jews wrote on their doors, 
 "This house is Protestant." Business was almost entirely 
 suspended, shops with few exceptions being closed from 
 Tyburn to Whitechapel; and the more courageous people 
 armed themselves with whatever weapons they could com- 
 mand. Many houses looked like places prepared for a 
 siege. 
 
 A friend of Mrs. Newton Crosland, from whose account of 
 the riots we have condensed this narrative, tells how two of 
 his grandparents were married in London during the week 
 of the outbreak. It would have been impossible after leav- 
 ing the church to pass with safety through the streets in 
 the ordinary way ; so the wedding party assumed the blue 
 cockades instead of white favors, and covered the post chaise 
 containing the bridal pair with placards of " No Popery." 
 Thus, in the guise of violent partisans, they escaped into the 
 country. 
 
 Lord Mansfield, the Lord Chief Justice of England, was 
 one of the ablest and most conscientious men ever raised to 
 his exalted position ; and because he had administered the 
 law impartially to churchmen and dissenters, to Quakers and 
 to Roman Catholics, and especially because he had refused 
 
1780. 
 
 Timidity of the Magistrates . 
 
 151 
 
 to convict a priest for exercising the offices of his religion, 
 the rioters were bitter against him. 
 
 It was about midnight when, infuriated with spirits and 
 beer, they arrived at his house in Bloomsbury Square, which 
 was then a fashionable part of London. Of course, a private 
 residence could offer but little resistance to the attacks of such 
 a multitude ; and the justice, who was seventy-five years of 
 age, had barely time to escape with his wife by a back door 
 before the mob effected an entrance. The furniture, pictures, 
 and books were speedily 
 made into bonfires, and 
 one of the finest libraries 
 in England was thus 
 destroyed. When fur- 
 niture, pictures, wear- 
 ing-apparel, books, and 
 papers were consumed, 
 the mob set fire to the 
 house, having first bro- 
 ken into the wine cellar 
 and added to their in- 
 toxication by drinking 
 the fine wines they found 
 there. 
 
 It is a most surprising 
 fact that though a party 
 
 of foot-guards appeared on the scene, they remained inactive ; 
 and when a friend of Lord Mansfield's remonstrated with 
 them, they declared that without the orders of a magistrate 
 they dared not act, and that the magistrates had all fled from 
 the scene in terror ! When at last a magistrate was found, 
 and the soldiers were ordered to fire, the work of destruc- 
 tion was done, and probably the men who were killed and 
 wounded were so stupefied with drink that they were hardly 
 
 COSTUMES, TIME OF GEORGE III. 
 
152 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 conscious of the retribution. An ignorant and vicious rabble, 
 powerful only from their brute strength, were in reality mas- 
 ters of London for several days, while the class who should 
 have controlled them seemed paralyzed by fear. 
 
 On Wednesday, the 7th, the consternation of well-disposed 
 people seemed at its height. They barricaded their houses, 
 chalked "No Popery" on their doors, and hung out blue 
 streamers, blue being the color of the Protestant Associa- 
 tion. But Protestant zeal had now nothing to do with the 
 mob, which was only bent on plunder and destruction. Some 
 of the rioters were armed with iron bars which had been the 
 railings in front of Lord Mansfield's house, and they went 
 about despoiling the houses tenanted by respectable people, 
 or demanding contributions of money from them. One man 
 who rode on horseback claimed gold and would take nothing 
 less. 
 
 Not satisfied with having destroyed Lord Mansfield's town 
 house, a party of rioters proceeded to his residence near 
 Highgate, intending to burn that also, but happily they were 
 met by a detachment of cavalry who turned them back. 
 They had also intended to sack the Bank of England, but 
 found it guarded by infantry, who fired on them, killing and 
 wounding a great number. They were, however, apparently 
 but little daunted, for they broke open several prisons, in- 
 cluding the King's Bench, the Fleet, and the Marshalsea, 
 setting the prisoners free. They plundered the toll-houses 
 at Blackfriars Bridge, and then burnt them down ; and had so 
 systematized their proceedings that they had a list of the 
 public buildings which they intended to destroy, the Mansion 
 House, the Royal Exchange, and the British Museum being 
 among the number. Happily their plans were frustrated with 
 regard to these buildings. They even threatened to break 
 open the mad-houses and release the miserable and dan- 
 gerous inmates. 
 
1780. The Military Employed. 153 
 
 Another dreadful scene had yet to be enacted. Mr. Lang- 
 dale, who had a large distillery on Holborn Bridge, was a 
 Roman Catholic. The rioters broke open his premises, 
 staved in his hogsheads, filled pails and even their hats with 
 the liquor, drank deeply of it, and passed it on to the mob 
 outside, till the gutters ran with gin, brandy, and pure alcohol. 
 Even women and children, as well as men, were seen on their 
 knees sucking up the intoxicating fluid. Some of these mis- 
 erable beings, helpless from drunkenness, perished ; for, as 
 usual, the plundered premises were set on fire, and, fed as 
 the flames were by the spirit that was spilt, they at once 
 sprang up high and spread in many directions. Had the wind 
 been stronger the historian would probably have had to 
 record another great fire of London. 
 
 It is greatly to the credit of George III. that he showed 
 on this occasion much more courage and determination than 
 his ministers, who were overcome by timidity. It was the 
 prevailing opinion that it was not lawful to attack the mob, 
 whatever they might do, until an hour after reading the Riot 
 Act. Wedderburn, the Attorney- General, afterwards Lord 
 Loughborough, declared, however, that after the reading of 
 the Act not a single hour was required for the dispersion 
 of the mob, and that in extreme cases not even the reading 
 of the Act was necessary if a military force was required to 
 prevent the firing of a dwelling-house. 
 
 Encouraged by this high legal decision, the king issued a 
 proclamation requiring all householders and their families to 
 keep within doors, while the officers suppressed the riot by 
 military force. 
 
 This proclamation was speedily followed by the despatch 
 of soldiers to various quarters of the town. Now began 
 scenes only less horrible than the preceding ones. The 
 first body of troops called into operation was the Northum- 
 berland militia, which had entered London by a forced march 
 
154 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 that day. They were led against the rioters at Langdale's 
 distillery, where there already had been great loss of life. 
 Another party proceeded to Blackfriars Bridge, where num- 
 bers of the retreating crowd perished by falling from the 
 parapet into the river. Other troops inarched off elsewhere 
 to restore order, and whenever the mob failed to disperse, the 
 word of command was given and they were fired upon. Re- 
 membering how narrow most of the London streets then were, 
 it is easy for us to understand that many of the crowd might 
 have been eager to escape and yet unable to do so. But, on 
 the other hand, time had been allowed for well-disposed per- 
 sons to get home, and those who failed to obey suffered the 
 consequences. It must indeed have been horrible for quiet 
 citizens who had obeyed the proclamation to remain in their 
 closed houses, with shutters barred, listening to the tramp 
 of soldiers, the hooting of the crowd, and the firing of mus- 
 kets with military precision, followed by the shrieks of the 
 wounded. But the five days of terror through which they 
 had passed must have made them deeply thankful that the 
 Government was defending them at last, and in many in- 
 stances bodies of civilians armed themselves and went forth 
 to assist the troops. 
 
 Not less than twenty-five thousand soldiers were assem- 
 bled in London and the suburbs, all ready to act as occasion 
 might require ; and this display of force, together with the 
 exertions of the civic authorities, now thoroughly aroused, so 
 quelled the turbulent throng that by night the town was per- 
 fectly quiet. The streets indeed seemed even more still than 
 usual, for, wearied with the recent excitement, people were 
 thankful to rest. In many places blood ran in the gutters, 
 and it was computed that two hundred men were shot in the 
 streets, while two hundred and fifty were carried to the hos- 
 pitals seriously wounded, of whom subsequently nearly a 
 hundred died. Many more who were only slightly injured 
 managed to escape. 
 
X\ 
 
 g f\ONjtf- 
 
 GEORGE III. 
 
iySo-iySS. Acquittal of Lord George, 157 
 
 On the next morning, Thursday, the 8th of June, it has 
 been said " the city looked in places as if it had been sacked 
 by an invading army." Firemen were busy among the smok- 
 ing ruins of prisons and other buildings trying to extinguish 
 the still smouldering remains ; while men and women — the 
 latter often with children in their arms — were lying about on 
 doorsteps sleeping off the fumes of the previous day's drunken- 
 ness. Troops were stationed in the parks, at the Royal Ex- 
 change, and some other important places, but most of the 
 shops still continued closed, and no public business was 
 transacted except at the Bank of England. 
 
 On the morning of Friday, the 9th, the law courts resumed 
 their sittings, and shops once more were generally opened. 
 On this day Lord George Gordon, the author of all the dis- 
 asters, was committed to the Tower on a secretary of state's 
 warrant. His trial took place Feb. 5, 1781. He was ar- 
 raigned for high treason, and was defended with great elo- 
 quence by Mr., afterwards Lord, Erskine. The presiding 
 judge was William, Earl of Mansfield, who had been so 
 wronged by the rioters. 
 
 But it was in keeping with Lord Mansfield's greatness of 
 character that he allowed no personal enmity to appear on 
 this memorable occasion. On the contrary, in his charge to 
 the jury he dwelt so forcibly on all the points of law that were 
 in the prisoner's favor, and summed up the evidence so clearly, 
 that the jury after half an hour's deliberation pronounced the 
 prisoner " not guilty." 
 
 This verdict disappointed many of those people who were 
 still smarting under the remembrance of all they had suffered 
 during the riots. But though Lord George was morally re- 
 sponsible, he was not so legally. 
 
 As years passed on the eccentricities of Lord George 
 Gordon increased. In 1788 he was tried and found guilty 
 of libelling the Queen of France, the French ambassador, 
 
158 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 and the English law and crown officers. On this occasion 
 he withdrew to Holland, but the magistrates of Amsterdam 
 sent him back to England. He was committed to Newgate 
 in accordance with the sentence pronounced on him for 
 libel, and there spent the rest of his life. He died of fever, 
 Nov. 1, 1793. 
 
 Nearly one half of the rioters arrested were found guilty, 
 and of those thus convicted twenty-one were executed, the 
 remainder being transported for life. 
 
 In " Barnaby Rudge " Dickens carries several of his charac- 
 ters through the insurrection ; and, though they are fictitious, 
 the scenes are historically accurate. From Chapter LXIII. 
 to Chapter LXVIII. the superb dramatic powers of the great 
 novelist are exercised in a sustained description which is 
 unsurpassed; witness, for instance, his account of the last 
 night of the riots : — 
 
 " All night no one had essayed to quench the flames or 
 stop their progress ; but now a body of soldiers were actively 
 engaged in pulling down two old wooden houses, which were 
 every moment in danger of taking fire, and which could 
 scarcely fail, if they were left to burn, to extend the confla- 
 gration immensely. The tumbling down of nodding walls and 
 heavy blocks of wood, the hooting and the execrations of the 
 crowd, the distant firing of other military detachments, the 
 distracted looks and cries of those whose habitations were in 
 danger, the hurrying to and fro of frightened people with 
 their goods ; the reflections, in every quarter of the sky, of 
 deep red, soaring flames, as though the last day had come, 
 and the whole universe were burning ; the dust, and smoke, 
 and drift of fiery particles, scorching and kindling all it fell 
 upon ; the hot unwholesome vapor, the blight on everything ; 
 the stars and moon and very sky obliterated, — made up such 
 a sum of dreariness and ruin, that it seemed as if the face of 
 
1786. A Vivid Picture, 159 
 
 Heaven were blotted out, and night, in its rest and quiet, 
 and softened light, never could look upon the earth again. 
 
 " The gutters of the street, and every crack and fissure in 
 the stones, ran with scorching spirit, which, being dammed 
 up by busy hands, overflowed the road and pavement, and 
 formed a great pool in which the people dropped down dead 
 by dozens. They lay in heaps all round this fearful pond, 
 husbands and wives, fathers and sons, mothers and daugh- 
 ters, women with children in their arms and babies at their 
 breasts, and drank until they died. While some stooped with 
 their lips to the brink, and never raised their heads again, 
 others sprang up from their fiery draught, and danced, half 
 in a mad triumph, and half in the agony of suffocation, until 
 they fell, and steeped their corpses in the liquor that had 
 killed them. Nor was even this the worst or most appall- 
 ing kind of death that happened on this fatal night. 
 
 " From the burning cellars, where they drank out of hats, 
 pails, buckets, tubs, and shoes, some men were drawn, alive, 
 but all alight from head to foot ; who, in their unendurable 
 anguish and suffering, making for anything that had the look 
 of water, rolled, hissing, in this hideous lake, and splashed up 
 liquid fire which lapped in all it met with as it ran along the 
 surface, and neither spared the living nor the dead. 
 
 " On this last night of the great riots — for the last night 
 it was — the wretched victims of a senseless outcry became 
 themselves the dust and ashes of the flames they had kin- 
 dled, and strewed the public streets of London." 
 
In London I never know what to be at, 
 Enraptured with this, and enchanted with that 
 I am wild with the sweets of Variety's plan, 
 And life seems a blessing too happy for man. 
 
 In the town if it rains, why it bars not our hope ; 
 The eye has its range, and the fancy its scope ; 
 Still the same, though it pour all night and all day, 
 It spoils not our prospects, it stops not one way. 
 
 In London if folks ill together are put, 
 A beau may be dropped or a cpiiz may be cut; 
 We change without end, and if happy or ill, 
 Our wants are at hand, our wishes at will. 
 
 Then in town let me live, and in town let me die, 
 For I own I can't relish the country, not I; 
 If I must have a villa in summer to dwell, 
 Oh, give me the sweet shady side of Pall Mall. 
 
 Captain Morris 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 IMPROVED LONDON. 
 
 We have pictured London as it was in the last century, 
 when thieves and blackguards had peaceable citizens at their 
 mercy, and when the provisions for keeping the city clean 
 were little better than in the Middle Ages. The slums of 
 Whitechapel are in better order now, and safer to the pedes- 
 trian, than Fleet Street and the Strand were then. But Lon- 
 don, unlike Paris, had no Haussmann suddenly to transform 
 it from an ancient city to a modern one. The changes 
 made in it were gradual. 
 
 One of the first steps towards an improvement was the 
 establishment of a more efficient police force. Formerly the 
 guardians of the peace were old and sleepy men, who had not 
 strength enough, even when they had courage, to quell dis- 
 order, and who were glad when the ill-doers left them to doze 
 in the sentry boxes which were provided for their shelter. In- 
 deed, their age and feebleness were looked upon as a qualifi- 
 cation for their posts. The young " bucks " of the Regency 
 were especially the tormentors of these poor old men, who 
 were called Charlies, because the law under which they were 
 appointed dated to the time of Charles I. To " box a Char- 
 lie " was considered fine sport. If he was found dozing 
 between the hours when he went his rounds, his box was 
 upset, with him inside of it, and he was left to kick and strug- 
 gle, like a turtle on its back, until help arrived. Another 
 trick was to offer him a dram which had been drugged, and, 
 
1 62 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 when the liquor had stupefied him, to cart him with his box 
 into a quarter of the town far distant from his post. Practi- 
 cally, the watchmen were of no use, except to cry the hour of 
 the night and the state of the weather to wakeful citizens. 
 
 In 1829 Sir Robert Peel abolished the " Charlies" and es- 
 tablished the present force of uniformed policemen, who num- 
 ber over eleven thousand, and have jurisdiction over the whole 
 of the county of Middlesex, and parts of the adjacent counties 
 of Hertford, Essex, and Kent. A nickname is given to them, 
 as to the watchmen who preceded them, and they are known 
 as Bobbies or Peelers, both names being derived from those 
 of the great statesman who established the force. 
 
 Another great improvement was the abolition of cesspools 
 in 1847, an d the drainage of the houses through sewers. The 
 sewage is now conducted to Crossness, fourteen miles below 
 London Bridge, and is ultimately discharged into the German 
 Ocean. 
 
 In its water supply, London had been more fortunate, 
 previous to the time of which we are speaking, than in its 
 police and drainage. In olden times the citizens were pro- 
 vided by the streams which flowed through their streets, one 
 of the largest being that which gave Fleet Street its name. 
 As the city grew, it was impossible to keep these streams 
 clean, and water was then conveyed from the surrounding 
 country by conduits. On great occasions wine instead of 
 water was turned into the conduits for the free use of the 
 citizens, and this was the case when unfortunate Anne Boleyn 
 was crowned after her marriage with Henry VIII. 
 
 The conduits were an improvement on the open streams, 
 but they were an obstruction to traffic in the streets, and all 
 the water from them had to be carried into the houses. 
 There were no pipes in the houses, such as we consider 
 indispensable. But in 1582 a Dutchman, named Peter 
 Morris, introduced a plan for supplying the houses with water 
 
1594- Hugh Middleton. 165 
 
 by mechanical power. He obtained a lease for the use of the 
 Thames water and two arches of London Bridge, where he 
 built a f order i by which a supply could be sent a short 
 distance. His apparatus was inadequate, however, and relief 
 came in 1594, when a goldsmith named Hugh Middleton 
 appeared upon the scene. Even if Morris's invention had been 
 capable of distributing all the water that was wanted, it could 
 not have been a success, for the supply could not have been 
 pure as long as it depended on the Thames. Middleton 
 took up a plan which others refused to adopt because it was 
 costly. Spending the whole of a large private fortune in the 
 undertaking, he went to the green hills and dales far beyond 
 London, and, tapping the sweetest springs, brought their waters 
 to the city through an artificial river, twenty-one miles long. 
 Engineers had not the machinery then which is at their com- 
 mand now, and the tunnelling of the St. Gothard Pass was 
 not, relatively speaking, a more imposing work than the cut- 
 ting of this channel from Hertfordshire to London. Middle- 
 ton's fortune was all spent before his great work was complete, 
 and he applied in vain to his fellow-citizens for help. The 
 means were furnished by James L, who, in return for his 
 advances, received half the shares, of which there were 
 seventy-two, each being now valued at $85,000. Though the 
 undertaking had few friends in the beginning, it thus has 
 proved not only an incalculable boon to the inhabitants, but 
 also an immensely profitable investment. 
 
 For many years the New River was ample, and it is still 
 utilized for the north eastern region and that limited part of 
 London which claims the exclusive designation of the " city ;" 
 but, in addition to it, seven other sources are now required to 
 supply the modern metropolis. There are about seven hun- 
 dred miles of water-mains, and the average daily consumption 
 is about one hundred and twenty million gallons, or nearly 
 thirty gallons for each person. What other city in the world, 
 
1 66 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 it has been asked, has provided for the comfort of its in- 
 habitants so abundantly? 
 
 We have already mentioned how Edward Heming lighted 
 some of the streets with lanterns in the time of Charles II., 
 and how a few foolish persons laughed at his project. The 
 proposition to use gas for the same purpose was also derided. 
 Sir Humphry Davy said that it would be as easy to bring 
 down a piece of the moon for the illumination of London 
 as to light the streets with gas. The philosopher was mis- 
 taken, and yet he was supported by even as clever men 
 as James Watt, the inventor of the steam-engine. He sug- 
 gested that the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral could be used 
 as a gasometer. Nevertheless, in 1803-4 a German named 
 Winsor proved that gas was feasible for an illuminant, and first 
 used it in the Lyceum Theatre, after which it was gradually 
 adopted throughout the metropolis. But, like so many 
 pioneers in great works, Winsor was ruined by the oppo- 
 sition which he met. As Macaulay says of Heming's lanterns, 
 " The cause of darkness was not undefended. There were 
 fools in that age who opposed the introduction of what was 
 called the ' new light ' as strenuously as fools in our own age 
 have opposed the introduction of vaccination and railroads, 
 and as strenuously as the fools of an age anterior to the dawn 
 of history doubtless opposed the introduction of the plough 
 and of alphabetical writing." 
 
 Dr. Johnson, who had violent prejudices against many other 
 things, is said to have predicted the lighting of London by gas. 
 One evening, from the window of his house in Bolt Court, he 
 observed the parish lamp-lighter ascend a ladder to light 
 one of the public lanterns. The man had scarcely half way 
 descended when the flame expired. Quickly returning, 
 he lifted the cover partially, and thrust the end of his torch 
 beneath it : the flame was instantly communicated to the wick 
 by the vapor, which suddenly ignited. " Ah," exclaimed the 
 
1564- Introduction of Carriages. 169 
 
 doctor, " one of these clays the streets of London will be 
 lighted with smoke ! " 
 
 We have now seen how Sir Hugh Middleton saved the 
 housewife the trouble of going with her bucket to the nearest 
 stream when she wanted water, and provided her with an 
 inexhaustible flow in her own kitchen ; how the refuse of the 
 thousands of houses is swiftly carried off, instead of being 
 allowed to breed disease by accumulation ; how lurking 
 thieves and hidden pitfalls were defeated by the glimmer 
 of lamps, which have increased in number, until now, when 
 London is seen from an eminence on a clear night, it seems 
 like a garden sown with yellow flowers : and how the feeble 
 old Dogberry s of the past have been supplanted by wide- 
 awake and brawny policemen, who keep the rogues well 
 under hand. We have yet to speak of the introduction of 
 the means provided for "getting about." 
 
 In olden times there were no public conveyances. The 
 better class of citizens rode to church, or to make calls, on 
 horses, and at a later period they had their own carriages. 
 On great occasions there were often as many people in the 
 saddle as on foot, and the equestrian display was a fine one, no 
 less than six thousand horsemen, for instance, having attended 
 the coronation of Henry IV. The chroniclers have painted 
 such celebrations for us in vivid colors. They show us the 
 entry into London of the conqueror of Agincourt, and the at- 
 tendant splendors, — the flowing conduits, the artificial trees 
 and flowers, the maidens playing music, the wooden houses 
 draped with gay tapestries, and the inmates sitting in their 
 costly dresses on the balconies. These magnificent eques- 
 trian spectacles were familiar to the citizens from the earliest 
 times. 
 
 It is not easy to think of London, whose murmur can now 
 be heard miles away, without the sound of other wheels than 
 those of the cart dragging through the ruts with its load of 
 
170 Yoimg Folks History of London. 
 
 firewood or beer or wool. But the city had no coaches until 
 late in the reign of Elizabeth ; and they can scarcely be said 
 to have come into general use until the reign of James. 
 
 Their use is noticed by Stow as follows : "In the year 
 1564 Guilliam Boonen, a Dutchman, became the queen's 
 coachman, and was the first that brought the use of coaches 
 into England. After a while, divers great ladies, with as 
 great jealousy of the queen's displeasure, made them coaches, 
 and rid up and down the countries in them, to the great ad- 
 miration of all the beholders ; but then by little and little they 
 grew usual among the nobility and others of sort, and in 
 twenty years became a great trade of coach-making." 
 
 The new vehicles increased in number despite the condi- 
 tion of the roads. One writer says : " It is a most uneasy 
 kind of passage, in coaches on the paved streets of London, 
 wherein men and women are so tost, tumbled, jumbled, and 
 rumbled." The drivers of carts took a malicious pleasure in 
 obstructing the coaches, moreover, and it was said that six 
 nobles often had to give precedence to six barrels of beer. 
 
 In 1634 a stand of hackney coaches was provided for the 
 use of any persons who wished to hire them, and the fact 
 was thus recorded : " I cannot omit to mention any new 
 thing that comes up among us, though never so trivial. Here 
 is one Captain Baily ; he hath been a sea captain, but now 
 lives on the land, about this city, where he tries experiments. 
 He hath erected, according to his ability, some four hackney 
 coaches, put his men in livery, .and appointed them to stand 
 at the Maypole in the Strand, giving them instructions at 
 what rate to carry men into several parts of the town, where 
 all day they may be had. Other hackney men seeing this 
 way, they nocked to the same place, and perform their jour- 
 neys at the same rate. So that sometimes there is twenty of 
 them together, which disperse up and down, that they and 
 others are to be had everywhere, as watermen are to be had 
 
r 883 Improved Conveyances. 171 
 
 by the waterside. Everybody is much pleased with it ; for, 
 whereas before coaches could not be had but at great rates, 
 now a man may have one much cheaper." 
 
 There was some opposition between the coaches and the 
 sedan chairs, and for a long time the superiority of one over 
 the other was a matter of dispute. 
 
 The river, winding through the city, was as great a high- 
 way as any street ; and, especially between London and West- 
 minster, innumerable row-boats passed to and fro, conveying 
 passengers either on pleasure or business. 
 
 The row-boats are superseded now by a fleet of steamers, 
 which call at many landings on both sides of the river, and 
 convey passengers for less than one cent a mile ; while the 
 hackney coaches and sedan chairs are substituted by over 
 three thousand cabs, twelve hundred omnibuses, a large 
 number of street-cars, and the trains of the Underground 
 Railway. 
 
 The charge of the cabs is twenty-five cents for two miles or 
 less, and half as much again for each additional mile. The 
 great number of them, and the frequency with which all 
 classes use them day and night, is one of the features of the 
 London streets. But more convenient to people travelling 
 east and west than all other conveyances are the trains of 
 the Underground Railway. 
 
 To a thoughtful person, the crowded surface of London is 
 always impressive. Everything seems to be in motion, the 
 whole population to be in the streets, and each individual in 
 a hurry. One is thrilled by the activity, — the surges of 
 human life that roll noisily through the streets, " from eter- 
 nity onward to eternity." Yet here and there we come 
 upon a grating within some railings, and an upward rush 
 of steam and a rumble from below shows us that, crowded 
 as the surface is with its thousands of cabs and omnibuses, 
 there is a lower level, upon which another part of the im- 
 
172 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 mense population is travelling by a conveyance more rapid 
 than either cabs or omnibuses, — under houses, and under 
 a vast gridiron of sewers, water pipes, gas pipes, pneumatic 
 tubes, and subterranean telegraph wires. Here and there we 
 see one of the stations, and, descending far below the level 
 of the street, we reach an atmosphere of smoke and steam in 
 a great underground vault, with trains rapidly passing through 
 it in both directions. At both ends of the vault is a tunnel 
 with a few lights glimmering in it. A bell tinkles, and a lamp 
 appears in the distance ; then, out of the tunnel comes a train ; 
 passengers alight quickly, and as quickly embark, and the 
 train vanishes into the continuation of the tunnel. 
 
 The vault is an underground station, and similar ones may 
 be found about three quarters of a mile apart, all along the 
 line. 
 
 Let us enter that at the Mansion House, which is near the 
 Royal Exchange and the Bank of England, — at the very 
 core of mercantile London. After buying our tickets, we 
 board a train going west. All the cars are lighted with gas, 
 and it is necessary that they should be, as the tunnel itself is 
 dark. The motion of the train is easy, but the atmosphere is 
 damp and smoky ; a gentle oscillation is all that tells us we 
 are moving. Almost before we have settled ourselves in our 
 seats we re-enter the twilight in the station at Blackfriars, 
 nearly a mile from where we started ; and the historic name 
 draws a varied procession out of our memories. At Black- 
 friars was the monastery which gave the place its name ; and 
 there, too, was the theatre of which Shakespeare was an 
 owner, and at which some of his plays were first produced. 
 St. Paul's Cathedral, Newgate Prison, St. Bartholomew's Hos- 
 pital, the Charterhouse, and Ludgate Hill are all within 
 easy distance, and not a stone's-throw from the station is the 
 office of the London "Times," the source of a power only 
 inferior to that of the legislative palace at Westminster. 
 
A RAINY DAY IN OLD LONDON. 
 

1883. The Underground Railway. 175 
 
 But in much less time than we can write the names of 
 these places, the train is off again, and the station lights are 
 vanished. Perhaps three minutes are spent, and then there is 
 a stop at which the conductor, or guard, as he is designated in 
 England, calls "Temple ! Temple ! " — another name which 
 conjures up visions of many periods of English history, for 
 here, indeed, is the sanctuary from which the Knights Templar 
 went to the Crusades. Since then it has been the ancestral 
 home of lawyers and authors, and associated with it is a long 
 roll of illustrious names : Beaumont, Cowper, Sir Walter Ra- 
 leigh, Lord Clarendon, Wycherley, Congreve, Edmund Burke, 
 Sheridan, Goldsmith, and Thackeray. Temple Bar stood close 
 by until 1875, separating the Strand from Fleet Street ; and just 
 over the heads of the passengers in the train are the lovely 
 Temple Gardens, rich with flowers which thrive despite the 
 London smoke. 
 
 We are struck by the expedition shown in starting the 
 train. The passengers, as well as the officials, seem anxious 
 that there shall be as little delay as possible, and those about 
 to alight are ready to step out the moment the train comes to 
 a standstill, while those who are about to embark quickly take 
 their places. The Temple is left behind while we are in the 
 middle of our reflections, and in a few seconds more we 
 reach Charing Cross. 
 
 "I talked," says Boswell, "of the cheerfulness of Fleet 
 Street, owing to the quick succession of people which we see 
 passing through it." " Why, sir," replied Dr. Johnson, 
 " Fleet Street has a very animated appearance, but I think 
 the full tide of human existence is at Charing Cross." 
 
 So it is. Though the Bank is at the core of the mercan- 
 tile half of the city, Charing Cross is the centre of the rest of 
 London. Here the Strand ends, and Pall Mall with its mag- 
 nificent club-houses is across the way. Here also is Trafal- 
 gar Square, with Landseer's lions, the Nelson monument, and 
 
176 Young Folks History of Loudon. 
 
 the National Gallery, wherein is stored the finest collection of 
 pictures in the United Kingdom. 
 
 Again our reveries are interrupted by the starting of the 
 train, and in a few seconds more we are at Westminster, the 
 site of the famous Abbey, the Houses of Parliament, and 
 the Hall which was the palace of the early kings. We have 
 touched at so many interesting places, and have looked so 
 far back into history, that we seem to have made a long 
 journey, but we have only been in the train fifteen minutes. 
 
 The Underground Railway is undoubtedly one of the great- 
 est conveniences of London. It encircles the metropolis 
 and connects with all the main railway stations, except Wa- 
 terloo. Hosts of objections were raised to it when it was 
 first proposed, and it was prophesied that all manner of evils 
 would arise from it. It was said, even by engineers, that the 
 tunnel would fall in from the mere weight of the traffic in 
 the streets above, and that the adjacent houses would be not 
 only shaken to their foundations by the engines, but that the 
 families in them would be poisoned by the sulphurous exha- 
 lations of the fuel. After years of opposition, the work was 
 begun in i860, and the first section, between Paddington 
 and Farringdon Street, was opened on Jan. 10, 1863. So 
 great was its success from the very day of its opening, that, 
 in the next session of Parliament, there was such an influx 
 of bills for the proposed formation of railway lines in con- 
 nection with it, that nearly one half of the city would have 
 been demolished had all the plans been carried out, and 
 almost every open space occupied by some terminus with 
 its screaming and hissing locomotives. Many of these plans 
 were defeated, but every year some extension is made to the 
 underground lines, which now reach out as far as Richmond 
 and Harrow. 
 
 Suppose that, after alighting from the underground line at 
 Westminster, we walk a few steps to the pier of the river 
 
1883. The Process of Modernization. 177 
 
 steamers, and take one of them down as far as St. Paul's 
 Wharf. On our way we see Whitehall, Hungerford Bridge, 
 Waterloo Bridge, Somerset House, Blackfriars Bridge, the 
 Temple, and Wren's great cathedral. Our fare for this ride 
 is one penny, or two cents, and we could go nearly a mile 
 further, to London Bridge, without additional expense. Our 
 trip on the Underground Railway cost us about six cents ; and 
 thus, for a total of eight cents, we have been able to travel 
 about six miles. Few cities, indeed, possess such facilities 
 for rapid travel as crowded, pushing, struggling London. 
 
 We have said that London has had no Haussmann to untie 
 the knots in its ancient thoroughfares and give it an entirely 
 new dress, as in the boulevards of Paris. But it has under- 
 gone many great changes during recent years, and it is still 
 in an epoch of transition. Smoked and smoky as it is, 
 with its tangled streets and its sombre buildings, which wear 
 perpetual mourning, the person visiting it for the first time is 
 probably more impressed by the extent to which it has been 
 modernized than by its monuments of antiquity. Old Lon- 
 don has not such a new dress as Paris ; but, though not quite 
 a la mode, the dame has many new ribbons fastened to her 
 old-fashioned gown. Cheapside is American in its freshness 
 of architecture. Scarcely one of the old buildings remains 
 upon it, and in their place are brilliant shops with acres of 
 plate-glass in their windows ; insurance offices of carved stone 
 and polished granite ; modern restaurants, with aesthetic 
 furniture, mottoes in tiles, and ecclesiastical windows. It is 
 like a section of Broadway ; and, but for the omnibuses and 
 the hansom cabs, one might suppose himself to be in that 
 renowned thoroughfare of the New World, instead of in an 
 historic street of London, which was the central stage of the 
 pageantry of old, and the point where the commerce of Plan- 
 tagenet times was concentrated. Even in the Strand and 
 Fleet Street, where a few of the houses date back to the time 
 
178 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 of the Stuarts, and many of them are little altered from what 
 they were in the days of Queen Anne, great showy buildings, 
 which look incongruous beside their small-windowed, smoky- 
 faced neighbors, have begun to appear. Ludgate Hill is new 
 from top to bottom, and where Temple Bar stood, with the 
 heads of traitors spiked upon it, dividing Fleet Street from 
 the Strand, a vast pile of buildings in the Anglo-Norman style 
 of architecture, almost as large and as stately as the Capitol at 
 Washington, has been erected for the use of the law-courts. 
 
 A complete change has been made along the river-front 
 from Blackfriars to Westminster, where a broad belt of mud 
 and shallow water has been reclaimed and transformed into 
 the Victoria Embankment, a superb drive and promenade, 
 with a massive granite balustrade, flourishing trees, well-stocked 
 and well-tended gardens, statues, and landings for the small 
 steamers plying above London Bridge, below which the larger 
 shipping is confined. Cleopatra's Needle, a companion to 
 that in Central Park, stands at the foot of Salisbury Street ; 
 and among the finer buildings which front on the Embank- 
 ment are several fashionable hotels, the Temple, Adelphi 
 Terrace (a neighborhood of literary clubs and literary lodg- 
 ings), and St. Stephens Club, where the leading Conserva- 
 tives meet to pour forth, even over their dinner or supper, 
 the ire which the Liberals have excited in them. Close by 
 the latter building, the Embankment ends at the Houses of 
 Parliament, behind which the towers of Westminster Abbey 
 are first visible. 
 
 It is interesting, in passing along this fine promenade, to 
 think of the river-front as it was before the Embankment was 
 built. At one time, as we have stated in a previous chapter, 
 the palaces of the nobility whose names and titles are given 
 to the neighboring streets — Essex, Buckingham, Somerset, 
 Surrey, Norfolk, York, and Arundel — stood along the Strand, 
 with gardens sloping down to the water, where the inmates 
 
1883. The Thames Embankments. 181 
 
 could take boats. There is record of a golden day when the 
 water of the Thames was so pure that trout lived in it, and 
 anglers could be seen fishing on the banks. Nothing of the 
 palaces remain, save the beautiful water-gate through which 
 the gay company of York House stepped on board the tap- 
 estried barges which bore them to Westminster or the city. 
 Somerset House is only a name given to the present structure 
 because the latter occupies the site of the old one. 
 
 After these stately homes disappeared, the river-front seems 
 to have fallen into decay, and rookeries shivered in the wind 
 along the oozy borders. It was a dark place, where crime 
 sought a hiding-place and poverty a shelter. Many a piteous 
 sob might have been heard under the dark arches of Water- 
 loo Bridge. Many a hideous crime remained undetected, 
 while its perpetrators concealed themselves in the riverside 
 shanties. 
 
 The work of reclamation was begun in February, 1864, and 
 the Embankment was opened in July, 1870. The approaches 
 to it are insufficient at present ; but when these are increased, 
 it will become one of the most crowded, as it is now the most 
 commodious, of London streets. 
 
 On the Surrey side of the river is another embankment, 
 named after the queen's late husband, Prince Albert, and 
 among the buildings abutting on it is one of the largest of 
 the many London charities, — St. Thomas's Hospital, which 
 consists of no less than eight distinct buildings, or pavilions, 
 seventeen hundred feet in length, and two hundred and 
 fifty feet in depth. It is built of brick, with stone facings, 
 and cost nearly $2,500,000. Just opposite to it, on the Mid- 
 dlesex side of the river, are the Parliament buildings, and 
 few views in London are more impressive than that from 
 Westminster Bridge, which brings in both the hospital and 
 the legislative palace, with the Victoria Embankment reach- 
 ing from it. 
 
1 82 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 Whitehall is one of the neighborhoods where the change 
 from old to new is conspicuous. It has been said that the 
 triangular space which lies between the new palaces of 
 Whitehall and St. James and the old palace at Westminster 
 has been the scene of more important events in English his- 
 tory than all the rest of London. The original palace at 
 Whitehall was built by Hubert de Burgh, Earl of Kent, the 
 minister of Henry III., and' it was rebuilt by Cardinal Wol- 
 sey. Here the prelate lived in more than royal magnificence, 
 with a household of eight hundred persons, and entertained 
 the king, who took " great comfort " from the hospitality with 
 which he was received. Afterwards, when Wolsey was in 
 disgrace, the king himself took possession of Whitehall. He 
 married Anne Boleyn there, and there " bluff King Hal " 
 ended his life of crime on Jan. 28, 1546. 
 
 It was also from Whitehall that Queen Mary went forth to 
 be crowned, and thence Elizabeth was sent to the Tower on 
 a wrongful accusation of complicity in Sir Thomas Wyatt's 
 conspiracy. In her turn, Elizabeth set out from Whitehall to 
 receive the crown, and in her reign the palace was the scene 
 of many brilliant masques and tournaments. In the grounds 
 Lord Monteagle first told the Earl of Salisbury of the gun- 
 powder plot, and hither Guy Fawkes was dragged from the 
 cellar of the House of Lords into the presence of King 
 James I. 
 
 " What," said one of the Scottish courtiers, " did you intend 
 to do with so many barrels of gunpowder? " 
 
 " I intended, for one thing," brusquely said the conspira- 
 tor, " to blow all Scotchmen back into Scotland." 
 
 Whitehall attained its greatest splendor in the reign of 
 Charles I., when eighty-six tables were set at each meal, the 
 king little dreaming that the walls which saw these festivities 
 would, at a later period, witness his execution. Oliver Crom- 
 well was the next tenant, and John Milton occupied a room 
 
1883. The Government Offices. 183 
 
 as his Latin secretary. The great Protector died in the pal- 
 ace, and was succeeded in the occupation of it by Richard 
 Cromwell. Then came Charles II., with his dissolute com- 
 panions ; and, at his death, James II. made Whitehall his 
 principal residence. In the reign of William III. the palace 
 was almost totally destroyed by fire, and all that now remains 
 of it is the banqueting hall from which Charles I. passed to 
 his execution. 
 
 In place of the Whitehall of old, with its extensive build- 
 ings and gardens, the features of the neighborhood are the 
 government offices. Here is the Treasury building, which 
 was designed by Sir Charles Barry, the architect of the 
 Houses of Parliament, and the Admiralty Office, from which 
 the navy is controlled. Near these is a byway called Down- 
 ing Street ; and, though Downing Street is narrow and not 
 one sixteenth of a mile long, the business that takes place in 
 it engages the attention of the whole world. On the south 
 side, abutting on St. James's Park, is a fine pile of modern 
 Italian buildings, in which are the Home Office, the Foreign 
 Office, the Colonial Office, and the East India Office, — each 
 the head-quarters of a cabinet minister. Downing Street is, 
 indeed, the engine-room from which is controlled the stu- 
 pendous machinery of the British Empire. 
 
 London possesses many new things, — new parks, new 
 streets, new buildings ; and the antiquary from abroad who has 
 read its annals may in his first survey of the city be disappointed 
 at the extent to which the old landmarks have been obliterated. 
 He alights, perhaps, in one of the magnificent depots, and is 
 driven through wide streets lighted by the electric light. He 
 is lodged in a hotel which is as modern as anything of the 
 kind in Chicago or San Francisco. He inquires for one relic 
 after another, and is told that it is gone. The site of many 
 an historic house is occupied by some pile of modern architec- 
 ture, and the dingy place of memories altered beyond recogni- 
 tion by some improvement. 
 
184 Young Folks Hist 07 y of London. 
 
 A neighborhood nearly as large as many American towns 
 was pulled down and rebuilt to admit of the Holborn Viaduct. 
 The approach to the city from the west by Oxford Street and 
 Holborn was formerly inconvenient and unsightly, and on both 
 sides of it was a region of slums, including Field Lane, wherein 
 was the lair of Bill Sykes, Charlie Bates, and the very " Artful 
 Dodger." The slums were pulled down, and the ground was 
 cleared, as much as $150,000 being paid to one property- 
 owner for his land. Then a viaduct, of an ornamental char- 
 acter, was thrown across the waste, avoiding the hill, which 
 formerly stood in the way of the traffic, and replacing the old 
 narrow street with a new thoroughfare, fourteen hundred feet 
 long and eighty feet wide. On both sides are handsome build- 
 ings, and in some respects the Viaduct is the finest street in 
 London. 
 
 " The impression left upon the mind after a walk along the 
 Viaduct," says an English writer, " is that of a wide and level 
 thoroughfare raised above the old pavement, and of a spacious 
 bridge crossing the busy line of Farringdon Street below. The 
 improvement is so grand and yet so simple, and the direction 
 taken by the new road is so obviously the easiest and the best, 
 that difficulties of construction and engineering details are in a 
 manner lost sight of; and it is not until the work concealed from 
 the eye is dived into that the true nature of the undertaking 
 is understood. To know what has been accomplished, and to 
 appreciate it rightly, the observer must leave the upper level, 
 and penetrate the interior ; to comprehend his subject, he 
 must do as all patient beginners do, — commence at the 
 foundation. First is appropriated a space for areas and 
 vaulted cellars of the houses, and then against these is a sub- 
 way, in which are the gas, water, and telegraph pipes ; then 
 a passage, and below these a vaulted chamber constructed 
 with damp-proof courses through its walls, at the bottom of 
 which, resting on a concrete bed, is the sewer. . . . The 
 
1883. Suburban Changes. 185 
 
 height of these subways is eleven feet six inches, and their 
 width is seven feet. They contain ventilating shafts, which 
 are connected with trapped gullies in the roadway above ; 
 also, with the pedestals of the lamp-posts, perforated for the 
 purpose, and with flues expressly directed to be left in party 
 walls of buildings ; all these contrivances being made for 
 carrying off the gases that may escape, especially from leak- 
 age of the gas-mains. Provision is made for the easy ingress 
 of workmen and materials, and the subways are lighted by 
 means of gratings, filled with globules of thick glass." 
 
 In the suburbs, again, we notice how rapidly the town is 
 encroaching upon the country. London is not extending its 
 area in any one direction, but in all directions. It is not grow- 
 ing in the north more than in the south, nor in the east more 
 than in the west. Year by year, it adds to its vast circum- 
 ference some belt of fields ; and the annexation is not gradual, 
 with straggling buildings and disconnected streets, slowly fill- 
 ing up, but almost instantaneous. The streets are rapidly 
 paved, graded, drained, and lighted, and what is pasturage one 
 April becomes an integral part of the city before the follow- 
 ing December. Many of the quaint old villages, with thatched 
 cottages and ancient inns, which stood several miles away 
 from the borders of the city a few years ago, are now part 
 and parcel of the huge metropolis ; and where their hedge- 
 rows blossomed with hawthorn in June are rows of little 
 yellow-brick suburban villas. 
 
 Perhaps the most interesting of the newer parts of London 
 is South Kensington, with its modern Queen Anne houses, 
 its wide, respectable streets, and the palatial buildings of the 
 South Kensington Museum. The latter contains more than 
 twenty thousand examples of mediaeval and modern art, 
 paintings and statuary, fine workmanship in metals, textile 
 fabrics and pottery, engineering and architecture. Connected 
 with it, also, are various schools ; and it is not too much to 
 
1 86 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 say that any one who properly uses the opportunities afforded 
 by the South Kensington Museum may acquire a liberal 
 education. 
 
 Even in the eastern end of the metropolis, where crime 
 and poverty have long abided, there are gaps in the narrow 
 alleys and pestilent courts, — gaps filled up with model tene- 
 ments, common schools, and various educational institutions. 
 Petticoat Lane is still there, in which queer street one may get 
 a vivid picture of low life in London : of the peculiar physi- 
 ognomy of the low Cockney and of some of his habits ; of 
 the crowded condition of the London rookeries, and espe- 
 cially of the fierce struggle which goes on for very small 
 things. But there are signs of reformation in the East as 
 well as of increasing opulence in the West. 
 
 New London covers a very large tract, and to one who 
 has read the history of the metropolis and knows its varied 
 traditions, the extent of the changes made in the ancient 
 city may, as we have said, disappoint him. But, though there 
 are many new things in London, there is no lack of old ones 
 of deep historical interest and local peculiarity, — old taverns, 
 old churches, old palaces, old inns of court, and old houses. 
 London is still the living stage of English history ; and though 
 the youngest reader of this book should not visit it until he is 
 an old man, there is no doubt that he will still find in it more 
 to gratify his love of antiquities than in any other city. But 
 who can imagine the size it will be, say, twenty years hence ? 
 At the census of 1881 it had a population of 4,764,312, and 
 thus it contained more than double the number of people in 
 Denmark, including Greenland ; nearly three times as many 
 as Greece ; more than eighteen times the population of Mon- 
 tenegro ; some thousands more than Portugal, including the 
 Azores and Madeira ; nearly treble the population of Servia ; 
 more than double that of Bulgaria ; three quarters of a mil- 
 
1883. Increasing Population. 1 87 
 
 lion more than in Holland • and more than Sweden or Norway 
 or Switzerland. 
 
 It has increased about one million and a half in the past 
 ten years, and, with Cowper, we may indeed speak of it as 
 
 " Opulent, enlarged, and still 
 Increasing London ! " 
 
: A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, 
 
 Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye 
 Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping 
 
 In sight, then lost amidst the forestry I 
 
 Of masts ; a wilderness of steeples peeping 
 
 On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy ; 
 A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown 
 On a fool's head, — and there is London Town ! " 
 
 Lord Byron. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 LONDON BRIDGE. 
 
 We now intend to look in more detail at those features 
 which we have not yet spoken of, or to which only a passing 
 reference has been made ; and first among these is the famous 
 bridge, which is so closely connected with the history of the 
 city. 
 
 The Thames winds through London, as our readers know, 
 and the metropolis is built on both sides of it, one bank being 
 in the county of Middlesex, and the other in the county of 
 Surrey. A ferry served in early times to carry passengers 
 to and fro, but among the improvements which followed the 
 Roman invasion was a bridge. The latter was not built over 
 the track of the old ferry, which was at Westminster, but at a 
 place about two miles lower down, where the river was nar- 
 rower. A ferry may have existed here also. There is a 
 church called St. Mary Overy at the Surrey end of the pres- 
 ent bridge, and it is said that Overy is simply a contraction 
 of the words " over the ferry." According to an old story, 
 not only was there a ferry, but also a prosperous ferryman, 
 with an only daughter who was very beautiful. Though 
 prosperous, he was covetous and parsimonious ; and one day, 
 to save a day's food, he resolved to feign death, believing that 
 his servants, in common decency, would fast till his funeral. 
 He therefore laid himself out in a sheet, and placed one 
 taper burning at his head, and another at his feet. Instead 
 of lamenting at his assumed decease, the servants were over- 
 
i go Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 joyed. They danced around his body, broke open his larder, 
 and feasted on the contents. The ferryman remained quiet 
 as long as he could, and then he sprang up from his bier to 
 scold and chase the faithless menials from the house. One 
 of them, a valorous fellow, took him for the devil, however, 
 and brained him on the spot with the butt end of an oar. 
 
 Hearing of the ferryman's death, a young lover of the 
 daughter started out from his home in the country to claim 
 her for his bride, her father having hitherto forbidden the 
 marriage ; but on his way his horse stumbled, and he broke 
 his neck. Overcome by her double loss, she retired to a 
 cloister for the rest of her life, and gave her property to a re- 
 ligious house, the priests in which built the first wooden 
 bridge across the Thames. 
 
 The value of this legend is small ; but there was a bridge in 
 1008, and it was destroyed by the Norsemen under King 
 Olave, who lashed his ships to the piers, and pulled the latter 
 down with the aid of strong cables and an ebbing tide. It 
 fell with a great crash, plunging its defenders into the water, 
 where many of them were drowned. 
 
 In a few years it was replaced by another bridge, which 
 was swept away by a high tide ; and a third bridge, built of 
 wood, was burned down in 11 36. At last, in 11 76, a stone 
 bridge was begun ; and for over six hundred years it gave 
 passage across the Thames. The cost of it was so great that 
 a tax was laid on wool to help in paying for it ; and hence it 
 was said that London Bridge was built on woolsacks. The 
 architect of it was a priest named Peter Colechurch ; and 
 though he superintended the work for nearly thirty years, he 
 died three years before it was finished. It had scarcely been 
 opened when it was partly destroyed by fire, and some three 
 thousand persons who had crowded upon it to see the confla- 
 gration were caught between two fires by a sudden change 
 of the wind, and perished, either by the flames or by drown- 
 
1700. Nonsuch House. 193 
 
 ing in the river. It was soon repaired, and until the middle 
 of the eighteenth century it was the only bridge over the 
 Thames. It was so constantly thronged with passengers, and 
 it afforded so good an opportunity for displaying wares, that 
 tall houses and shops were built upon it. In the centre of 
 the bridge a chapel, dedicated to Thomas a Becket, was 
 erected ; and between the centre and the Surrey end there 
 was a drawbridge, flanked by a tower on which the heads 
 of persons executed for treason were spiked. Towards the 
 close of the sixteenth century the tower was replaced by a 
 singular edifice which, from its peculiarity, was called Non- 
 such 'House, — a huge wooden building, four stories high, 
 with cupolas and turrets at each corner. There were carved 
 wooden galleries outside the long lines ©f transom-casements, 
 and the panels between were richly carved and gilded. For 
 a long time the building was the wonder of all London, as it 
 was fastened together by wooden pegs instead of nails, and 
 had been brought from Holland. 
 
 To have a true notion of old London Bridge, says Mrs. 
 Newton Crosland, we must think of the lofty houses, with 
 their swinging signs rattling in the wind ; of the overhanging 
 stories, approaching the opposite ones so nearly that the 
 neighbors could chat with each other from their lattices ; of 
 the droves of oxen and flocks of sheep coming from the coun- 
 try ; of the wagons and pack horses passing to and fro ; of 
 the massive carriages of the great folk; of the horsemen 
 dashing along ; of the tradesmen crying their wares ; and of 
 the pedestrians, for whom there was no footpath, anxiously 
 picking their way between the vehicles. The ghastly heads, 
 left to rot in the rain and wind and sunshine, looked down on 
 the procession, and, no doubt, horrified many a child, as it 
 was borne along in its nurse's arms. 
 
 The head of the Scottish hero, William Wallace, and that 
 of the Earl of Northumberland, the father of Hotspur, 
 
 13 
 
194 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 were exhibited on poles over the bridge \ and later on, in the 
 reign of Henry VIII., those of John Fisher, the Bishop of 
 Rochester, and Sir Thomas More were spiked in the same 
 place. The face of the former remained so ruddy and life- 
 like, and such crowds collected to see the so-called miracle, 
 that the king at last ordered the head to be thrown into the 
 river. Months after his death, Sir Thomas More's head was 
 little changed from what it had been in life, and his faithful 
 daughter bribed a man to remove it, and drop it into a boat 
 in which she was sitting. Heads were spiked on the battle- 
 ments until the reign of Charles II., and the shocking exhi- 
 bition was then removed to Temple Bar, upon which it was 
 continued until the beginning of the present century. 
 
 The bridge was the scene of many exciting historic scenes. 
 Once the citizens assembled upon it to prevent Queen El- 
 eanor of Provence, the wife of Henry III., from passing along 
 the river to Windsor, where she wished to take shelter. She 
 was hated by the people because she was opposed to the 
 Barons who were striving to obtain Magna Charta ; and as 
 she and her ladies attempted to pass under the bridge in a 
 state barge, they were assailed with mud and stones, and 
 driven back to the Tower. 
 
 When Wat Tyler and his army were at Blackheath, Sir 
 William Walworth, the mayor, had the drawbridge raised 
 and fastened by a great chain of iron ; but when the insur- 
 gents approached, the wardens lowered the bridge and al- 
 lowed them to cross, being terrified by the vengeance which 
 the rebels threatened to take if they were opposed. 
 
 Being the direct entrance to the metropolis from the south- 
 ern or southeastern coast, foreign princesses who came to be 
 English queens, notable visitors from distant lands, and 
 sometimes famous captives, all traversed the bridge in more 
 or less state. On London Bridge Henry V. was received in 
 triumph after his victory at Agincourt, and seven years later 
 
OSBORNE'S LEAP. 
 
1559- Osborne s Leap. 197 
 
 his dead body was borne along this same highway with fune- 
 real splendor. 
 
 In 1559 the Lord Mayor of London was Sir William 
 He wet. He wet lived in a house on the bridge, and had an 
 infant daughter named Anne. The current of the Thames 
 was then very strong, as there was a fall of several feet un- 
 derneath the arches. One day a nurse was playing with 
 baby Anne at a window overlooking the river, and in a care- 
 less moment she let her little charge fall. A young appren- 
 tice named Osborne plunged into the boiling stream after 
 her, and with great difficulty saved her, thus earning the 
 life-long gratitude of his master, the Lord Mayor. Anne 
 grew to be a beautiful woman, and, as her father was very 
 wealthy, many noblemen, including earls and baronets, sought 
 her hand. But she loved Osborne the best, and to all other 
 suitors her father said, " No ; Osborne won her, and Osborne 
 shall have her." 
 
 Osborne's great grandson became the first Duke of Leeds. 
 
 Hogarth and other celebrated painters once lived on Lon- 
 don Bridge. Alexander Pope, the poet, and Jonathan Swift, 
 who wrote " Gulliver's Travels," were often to be found at 
 the store of a witty bookseller in the Northern Gate. 
 
 The houses were removed between 1757 and 1766, and 
 early in the present century it was found that the bridge it- 
 self could no longer be repaired. The citizens were sorry to 
 lose it, but safety as well as convenience required its demoli- 
 tion. The new bridge, which stands one hundred and eighty 
 feet higher up the river than the old one, was begun by the 
 distinguished engineer, John Rennie, and completed by his 
 son. The foundation stone of it was laid on June 15, 1825, 
 and it was opened by William IV. and Queen Adelaide on 
 Aug. 1, 1831. 
 
; My eye, descending from this hill, surveys 
 Where the Thames among the wanton valleys strays. 
 Thames, the most loved of all the Ocean's sons 
 By his old sire, to his embraces runs, 
 Hastening to pay his tribute to the sea 
 Like mortal life to meet eternity." 
 
 Denham. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A TRIP ON THE RIVER. 
 
 The poorer classes of London children are not travellers, 
 as a rule, and their excursions do not often extend farther 
 than a few miles. A trip made on one of the steamers that 
 carry passengers a short distance for a penny is considered 
 an important and delightful outing, while a whole day's sail 
 is something never to be forgotten. A favorite holiday jour- 
 ney is to Kew, where the finest botanic gardens in England 
 are situated ; and we advise the reader to make this trip 
 from London Bridge, as it is a pleasure in itself, and will also 
 enable him to see how the children there enjoy themselves. 
 
 The starting-point is at the bridge itself. The Thames 
 here is shallow, black, sluggish, and narrow. You can almost 
 throw a stone across it, and it is not easy to think of it as the 
 great stream about which we have read so much. The largest 
 vessels cannot ascend so far, as the water is not deep enough, 
 but you can see a forest of masts in the extensive docks lower 
 down. The river steamboats are moored at a little pier under 
 one side of the bridge. They are small side-wheelers, not 
 much larger than the tug-boats of America, and not much 
 handsomer. The only accommodations for passengers are a 
 few uncovered wooden benches on deck, and a gloomy little 
 cabin below. They are built of iron, and painted black. 
 In shape — or in model, as a sailor would say — they are 
 pretty enough, and they look as though they might be swift ; 
 but they have no other element of beauty. 
 
200 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 Comparisons between friends are odious ; but we wonder 
 what a young Londoner would think, were he to see one of 
 our small river-boats on the Thames, — say the " Sylvan 
 Glen," of the Harlem Line, the " Pomona," of the Staten 
 Island Line, or the " Nantasket " of the Boston Harbor Line. 
 Perhaps he might imagine it to be a part of the Lord Mayor's 
 show, a pageant which we have already described. He cer- 
 tainly would not suppose that a craft of such elegance could 
 be intended for the common traffic of a ferry. 
 
 You buy your tickets at an office on the pier, as a warning 
 bell hastens you on board. The captain stands on a bridge 
 between the paddle-boxes. Underneath there is a small boy, 
 with a very old-fashioned face, who seems to be paying dili- 
 gent attention to nothing in particular. But at a motion of 
 the captain's hand, without lifting his eyes, he drawls out to a 
 man on the lower deck, " Ahead, half-speed ! " and the pad- 
 dle-wheels revolve. You expect to see some one boxing his 
 ears the next moment for misleading the engineer ; but he 
 still sits on the grating of the boiler-house, solemnly contem- 
 plating the knots in the planks. Again the captain raises his 
 hand. " Full spe-e-e-d ! " the small boy screams, and the 
 engine goes faster at his command. By and by you begin to 
 understand that he belongs to the boat, and is a substitute for a 
 bell, and, in view of the importance of his duties, you cannot 
 help admiring the modesty with which he comports himself. 
 
 As the boat shoots under the arches and up the river, the 
 bridge comes into view, — the busiest place in all busy Lon- 
 don. About eight thousand people on foot, and nine hun- 
 dred vehicles, pass over it every hour in the day. The rumble 
 of the traffic, as it comes to us on the boat, is like the roll of 
 distant thunder. In the background you can see the Tower, 
 and Billingsgate, the largest fish-market in the world. The 
 dealers and their customers used to be notorious for the use 
 of bad language, and the word " Billingsgate " is commonly 
 
■■XhJ&sS' 
 
 PENSIONERS AT GREENWICH. 
 
1883. River Traffic. 203 
 
 accepted in writing and conversation as meaning abuse or 
 profanity. 
 
 The little steamer moves slowly up the river, and soon 
 passes under another bridge. As you approach, you wonder 
 how she will do it, as her smoke-stack — or funnel, as the 
 English people call it — is too high to allow her passage. 
 The next moment you see it thrown back on a line with the 
 deck, and a cloud of sulphurous smoke drifts from its mouth 
 among the ladies and children on the seats at the stern. As 
 soon as she is clear of the bridge, it is raised again by a 
 pulley and weights. It is like the blade of a penknife open- 
 ing and shutting. You are a little startled when you first see 
 it coming down upon you, but you are quickly reassured by 
 the unconcern of the others, to whom it is no mystery. The 
 masts of the barges on the river are worked in the same way. 
 When a bridge is near, one of the boatmen turns a crank, and 
 the mast is seen to fall gradually back until it is parallel with 
 the deck. When the bridge is passed, the crank lifts it into 
 position again. 
 
 Most of these barges are in striking contrast with the sur- 
 roundings of the river. They are lavishly painted in the 
 gaudiest colors, — red, yellow, and green being a favorite 
 combination ; and the cabin windows are usually draped 
 with a trim bit of muslin, which indicates the presence of a 
 woman. The other vessels, the row-boats and the ferry-boats 
 included, are black and heavy ; and on the southern side of 
 the river a line of smoky warehouses and a strip of black mud 
 add to the cheerlessness of the scene. 
 
 The steamer glides yet farther on, occasionally stopping at a 
 pier, where a few passengers are landed and a few others re- 
 ceived. The small boy is closely attentive to the movements 
 of the captain's hand the while, sharply calling, " Slow 'er ! " 
 or " Stop 'er !" as it is raised or lowered, and never moving 
 from his perch on the gratings of the engine-room. 
 
204 Voting Folks History of London. 
 
 On one side is the Victoria Embankment, which we have 
 already described in the chapter on Improved London, and 
 on the other are the storehouses, manufactories, breweries, 
 and shabby wharves of Southwark. The dome of St. Paul's 
 Cathedral looms up in the air like a balloon, and we can also 
 see some of the towers of the new Law Courts in the Strand. 
 We pass under many bridges of the most varied design, some 
 of them built of painted and gilded iron, and others built of 
 stone, on solid arches black with age and dirt. On both sides 
 there are thick clusters of houses and warehouses, towering 
 above which a palace or a public building is occasionally 
 seen. A pall of smoke floats above all, and the sunlight is 
 subdued and yellow. 
 
 The Houses of Parliament stand close by the Thames at 
 Westminster, with the Abbey in the rear ; and the view of 
 them from the river is superb. While they are large and im- 
 posing, they have a sort of airy grace, which is produced by 
 numerous towers, spires, and abundant scroll-work. They 
 seem so finely wrought that they might be woven of lace in- 
 stead of stone, and they realize all one's ideas of a palace, 
 even of a fairy palace. 
 
 The landings of the steamer are made with scarcely a min- 
 ute's delay. A plank is thrown between the deck and the 
 pier. Passengers step on board or ashore without hurry or 
 confusion. " Go ahead ! " the small boy shouts, and we 
 start into the stream again at full speed. This is one of the 
 things they manage better in London than in America. Peo- 
 ple do not try to jump on board after the steamer has started, 
 nor to jump ashore before she has arrived, and so there are 
 few accidents. 
 
 Near Lambeth Bridge, on the southern bank of the river, 
 there is a stone building which looks half like a castle and 
 half like a fort. It is Lambeth Palace, formerly a place of 
 confinement for heretics, and for more than seven centuries 
 
LAMBETH PALACE. 
 
 LOLLARDS' PRISON. 
 
1883. Lambeth Palace. 207 
 
 used as the London residence of the Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury. Its appearance is disappointing ; for " palace " is a 
 grand and promising word, exciting to the imagination. 
 But this, like some of the other palaces of London, is a very 
 ordinary-looking building, and is no better architecturally 
 than Millbank Prison, on the opposite side. 
 
 To many, the most interesting part of the building is the 
 Lollards' Tower, in which the followers of Wickliffe were im- 
 prisoned and executed. In a room at the top is a trap-door 
 through which, as the tide rose, prisoners secretly condemned 
 could be let down unseen into the river. Hard by is the 
 Lollards' Prison. The rough-hewn boards bear many frag- 
 ments of inscriptions which show that others besides Lollards 
 were imprisoned here. Other boards bear the notches cut 
 by the prisoners to mark the lapse of time. The eight rings 
 remain, to which the prisoners were secured ; and a spectator 
 feels how much the captive chained nearest to the window 
 must have been envied by his companions. 
 
 After Lambeth, the next stopping-place is Chelsea, where 
 we change boats for Kew, and where there is a famous hos- 
 pital for old and disabled seamen. The building was designed 
 by Sir Christopher Wren, the foundation stone having been 
 laid by Charles II., in 1681 ; and in it are many paint- 
 ings, statues, and military trophies. In the wards of the 
 hospital each pensioner has his own little oak chamber, 
 where he may have his own pictures, books, and furniture, 
 with a door and window opening upon the great common 
 passage. There are nurses to every ward. 
 
 The pensioners have their meals in their own little rooms, 
 and are permitted to come and go as they choose. They 
 may be absent for two months with leave, receiving an allow- 
 ance of twenty cents a day if absent for more than three days. 
 
 The hall (now used by the pensioners as a club-room, 
 with tables for chess, cards, books, and newspapers) is hung 
 
208 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 with tattered colors taken by the British army. On the end 
 wall is a vast picture by Verrio and Henry Cooke, given by 
 the Earl of Ranelagh, with an equestrian figure of Charles II. 
 in the centre. It was the figure of the orange-girl in the 
 corner of the picture which gave rise to the now exploded 
 tradition that the foundation of the hospital was instigated 
 by Nell Gwynne. 
 
 On the panels round the room the victories of Great Brit- 
 ain are recorded, and it was in this hall that the great Duke 
 of Wellington lay in state, Nov. 10-17, 1 ^S 2 - 
 
 The chapel is decorated with a mass of banners in every 
 stage of decay, — often only a few threads remaining, which 
 wave from the roof, and fill the space at once with gloom and 
 color. When the sanctuary is filled by the veteran soldiers, 
 with their medals on their breasts, it is a touching sight. 
 There are about five hundred and fifty pensioners in the 
 hospital, who wear red. coats in summer and blue coats in 
 winter, and retain the cocked hats of the last century. 
 
 In a quiet street called Cheyne Row, running from the 
 river side, is the house in which Thomas Carlyle lived for 
 many years, and shut his door in the face of many an intru- 
 sive visitor. 
 
 Chelsea is also famous for its buns, which are sold at all 
 the confectioneries in England. They are not like other 
 buns, and contain no currants. They are richer, sweeter, 
 softer, and altogether more palatable. Their color is bright 
 yellow within, and a delicate brown without. In the centre 
 of each there is a dainty bit of citron, and the crust is gener- 
 ously sprinkled with sparkling grains of crystallized sugar. 
 
 We resume our voyage in another steamer, different from 
 the London Bridge boat in name only. Another small boy 
 sits under the bridge to convey the captain's orders to the 
 engineer, and he, like our old friend, is of a silent and retir- 
 ing disposition. The wonder is that, though he is reading a 
 

1883. Above Chelsea, 211 
 
 story-paper all the while, he never misses a movement of the 
 captain's hand, and never fails to chirp, " Stop 'er ! " " Slow 
 'er ! " as alertly as though his whole mind was in his business. 
 His bright eyes seem centred on the paper, but he has a 
 corner reserved especially for the man on the bridge. 
 
 Our fellow-passengers are changed. Only two or three of 
 those who came with us on the first boat remain. The 
 others, including several little Londoners in holiday dress, ar- 
 rived at Chelsea earlier, and were waiting. Some musicians, 
 with a violin, a harp, and a flute, have also joined the company, 
 and strike up a lively tune as we approach a more beautiful 
 part of the Thames. For a short distance the boat steams 
 between two muddy shores ; then we see a green field, and, 
 farther on, some trees. Soon afterward we are in a lovely 
 country, beyond the smoke and toil of the city. On the 
 banks of the river, set back among the woods, are the villas of 
 prosperous people, with picturesque boat-houses, and velvet- 
 like lawns reaching to the water's edge. Occasionally we 
 hear the tap-tap of a hammer, and pass a boat-builder's 
 yard, where some workmen are repairing a sharp-looking 
 scull. 
 
 We now pass Putney, Hammersmith, Chiswick, Barnes, 
 and Mortlake. Putney is the starting-point of the annual 
 boat-race between the crews of the Oxford and Cambridge 
 Universities, and Mortlake is the end of the course. At 
 Chiswick Rousseau lived for some time in a little grocer's 
 shop ; and the great artist, Hogarth, died there. Mortlake 
 also deserves a word for its picturesque little church. Between 
 it and Putney the river is given almost entirely to aquatic 
 sports. There are many pretty boat-houses on the banks, 
 with fleets of cedar sculls before each. It was here that the 
 Americans from Harvard College were defeated in a contest 
 with the Oxford men ; and here, too, exciting swimming and 
 rowing matches take place nearly every day in summer. The 
 
212 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 villages on the route contain queer old houses, built among 
 svveetbrier and honeysuckle. The roofs are covered with 
 warm red tiles, and the walls are white, with lattice-work 
 porches by the doors. 
 
 About three quarters of an hour after our departure from 
 Chelsea we are landed at Kew. Close to the pier there are 
 tea-gardens without number, each displaying a sign : " Tea for 
 ninepence," and " Hot water." It is in these tea-gardens 
 that the London children will end their holiday. Their par- 
 ents have brought heavy baskets filled with eatables, and, 
 when they have inspected the botanic gardens, they will come 
 here to feast. The landlord supplies hot water, chairs and 
 tables, charging twopence (or four cents) for each person ; 
 and the visitors supply their own food. Of course all visitors 
 do not follow this plan. There are fashionable hotels in Kew, 
 at which from three to eight shillings (or two dollars) are 
 charged for dinner. But such people as we saw on the boat 
 — the mechanics, with their wives and children — will surely 
 avail themselves of the "hot water" plan; and you may be 
 certain that they will enjoy themselves. In the evening they 
 will return to the city by the boat or the third-class train, 
 and will not have another holiday, perhaps, for a year. 
 
 The great attraction of Kew is its magnificent botanic gar- 
 den, perhaps the finest in the world, in which, flourishing 
 in an atmosphere of their own, may be seen the most beauti- 
 ful tropical palms, plants, ferns, fern-trees, and cacti, besides 
 every sort of indigenous flower, shrub, and tree. 
 
 The Church of St. Anne at Kew was built in 17 14, and 
 its graveyard contains the tombs of many celebrated men, in- 
 cluding that of Gainsborough, the artist. 
 
 From Oxford down to Putney, the Thames flows through 
 some of the loveliest pastoral scenery in England ; but it is 
 not within our scope to go beyond Hampton Court, which is 
 the limit of the steamboat excursions. On the way thereto 
 
 
1883. Hampton Court, 215 
 
 we pass Richmond, where the winding river flows through a 
 deeply wooded landscape which is scarcely equalled in Great 
 Britain, — "a huge sea of verdure," Sir Walter Scott calls it, 
 " with crossing and intersecting promontories of massive and 
 tufted groves. . . . The Thames, here turreted with villas, 
 and there garlanded with forests, moves forward slowly and 
 placidly, like the mighty monarch of the scene." 
 
 Hampton Court, which is twenty-three and a quarter miles 
 from London Bridge by the river, and fifteen miles by rail- 
 way, was the palace of Wolsey, Henry VIII., Queen Mary, 
 Queen Elizabeth, Charles I., Charles II., James II., William 
 III., Queen Anne, and the first of the Hanoverian kings. A 
 great mass of picturesque old buildings, containing many 
 relics of departed royalty, is set in the midst of grounds of 
 which the gardener's art has made a paradise of flowers ; and 
 when the excursionist has worn himself out in wandering 
 through the reminiscent halls, wherein are the dusty bed- 
 steads, the chairs, the tapestries, and the portraits of many 
 princes, he may pass out through the ancient court-yard into 
 this scene of enchanting beauty, where the air is soft and 
 fragrant, and where there are trees which were full-grown, 
 ages before the great cardinal who built the palace had won 
 any fame. 
 
 The collection of pictures will repay a visit to Hampton 
 Court in winter or summer ; but to know how lovely the sur- 
 roundings of this quaint old palace are, one must visit it on 
 a fair June day, when the chestnuts in Bushey Park are in 
 bloom, and their long avenues uphold, on pillars each more 
 than a hundred feet high, colossal bouquets of creamy flow- 
 ers. A summer spent in England has nothing to offer more 
 beautiful than this ; and this to the London excursionist is 
 the culminating pleasure of a trip up the Thames. 
 
" Prince Edward. Uncle, what gentleman is that ? 
 
 Gloster. It is, sweet Prince, Lieutenant of the Tower. 
 
 Prince Edward. Sir, we are come to be your guests to-night. 
 1 pray you, tell me, did you ever know 
 Our father, Edward, lodge within this place ? 
 
 Brackenbury. Never to lodge, my liege, but oftentimes 
 On other occasions I have seen him here. 
 
 Prince Richard. Brother, last night when you did send for me, 
 My mother told me, hearing we should lodge 
 Within the Tower, that it was a prison, 
 And therefore marvell'd that my uncle Gloster, 
 Of all the houses for a king's receipt 
 Within this city, had appointed none 
 Where you might keep your court but only here. 
 
 Gloster. Vile brats ! how they do descant on the Tower. — 
 My gentle nephew, they were ill-advised 
 To torture you with such unfitting terms 
 (Whoe'er they were) against this royal mansion. 
 What if some part of it hath been reserved 
 To be a prison for nobility, 
 Follows it therefore that it cannot serve 
 To any other use ? Caesar himself, 
 That built the same, within it kept his court, 
 And many kings since him ; the rooms are large, 
 The building stately, and for strength beside 
 It is the safest and the surest hold you have. 
 
 Prince Edward. Uncle of Gloster, if you think it so, 
 'T is not for me to contradict your will ; 
 We must allow it, and are well content." 
 
 Heywood. 
 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE TOWER. 
 
 The Tower is situated on the Middlesex side of the Thames, 
 a little below London Bridge, from which it is plainly visible, 
 and the buildings which compose it present the appearance 
 of a small fortified town of Germany or Flanders. It has a 
 wide, deep moat, and the inner wall, which is immensely thick, 
 varies from thirty to forty feet in height. The only vestige of 
 the royal palace — finally demolished by Cromwell — is the 
 buttress of an old archway adjoining the Salt Tower, but 
 most of the buildings have stubbornly resisted the attacks of 
 time. 
 
 The building was begun, as the reader was informed in a 
 previous chapter, by Gundulf, under the direction of William 
 the Conqueror ; and it was completed by Henry III., who took 
 a remarkable interest in the work. For centuries it served as 
 a palace and a prison, and its gloomy walls are piteously elo- 
 quent of the tragedies of English history. Here the two sons 
 of Edward IV. were murdered, and Queen Elizabeth was im- 
 prisoned by her sister. Among the tenants, also, were Lady 
 Jane Grey and Sir Walter Raleigh. The catalogue of names 
 is a long one, however, and instead of repeating it, we will 
 gather what we can of the " romance " belonging to this 
 famous building. 
 
 There is a pretty tradition connected with the Tower in the 
 time of the Wars of the Roses. Sir Henry Wyatt was impris- 
 oned as a rebel, and thrown into a dungeon without suf- 
 
218 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 ficient covering or food. One day a cat stole into his cell, 
 and by making much of her he won her affection. She vis- 
 ited him again and again, and several times brought pigeons 
 to him, with which he appeased his hunger. What became 
 of this particular cat is not known ; but ever afterwards Sir 
 Henry, like Whittington, invariably had one of her kind in- 
 cluded in the portraits of himself. 
 
 The murder of the Yorkist princes occurred about the time 
 of this gentleman's incarceration. Prince Edward was entitled 
 to the crown ; but his uncle, the Duke of Gloster, who had been 
 appointed Protector, cast the boy king and his brother, Prince 
 Richard, into the Tower. Edward was only twelve, and Rich- 
 ard was eight. The usurper was not satisfied with their im- 
 prisonment ; they stood between him and the crown which he 
 coveted, and word soon went forth for their death. The Gov- 
 ernor of the Tower refused to have anything to do with the 
 business, and under Gloster's instructions two assassins were 
 hired by Sir James Tyrrell. It is supposed that one boy had 
 his throat cut, while the other was smothered by a pillow. 
 The two murderers, helped by an obsequious priest, then 
 buried the bodies near the gateway wall ; but Gloster after- 
 wards had them reinterred behind a staircase in the keep, 
 where they were found in the time of Charles II. 
 
 It is believed by some historians that Gloster also murdered 
 Henry VI. in the Tower. 
 
 Henry VIII. sent many victims to the Tower, including the 
 poetical Earl of Surrey and John Fisher, Bishop of Roches- 
 ter, both of whom were beheaded. The latter, whose sin 
 was his disapproval of the King's latest marriage, might have 
 been spared, had the Pope not sent him a cardinal's hat. This 
 enraged Henry, who cried out, "If he wear it, he shall wear 
 it on his shoulders ! " 
 
 The death-warrant was at once signed, and the prelate 
 crossed to the scaffold with the New Testament in his hands, 
 
■■„i 
 

*553- 
 
 The Nine Days' Queen. 
 
 221 
 
 reading the passage : " This is life eternal, to know Thee, the 
 only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent." 
 
 The next illustrious prisoners were Lady Jane Grey, her 
 young husband, and the nobles who forced upon her the 
 fatal crown, which she wore for nine days. 
 
 Her sad history is well known. She was young, accom- 
 plished, and of royal descent. In 1553, when ruling in the 
 name of the youthful Edward VI., the Duke of Suffolk and 
 the Duke of Northumberland, foreseeing the early death of 
 
 NORMAN CHAPEL IN THE TOWER. 
 
 the King, resolved to secure the crown for their own families. 
 Lady Jane, the daughter of the former, then only sixteen 
 years old, was accordingly married to Lord Guilford Dudley, 
 the fourth son of the latter, and the King was persuaded 
 to make a deed of settlement, giving the crown to her, though 
 the right of succession belonged to his sisters, Mary and 
 Elizabeth, and the Queen of Scots. 
 
 She was proclaimed Queen on Edward's death, but the 
 
222 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 people rebelled against so lawless a usurpation. The Eastern 
 Counties took up arms for Mary ; and when Northumberland 
 marched from London with ten thousand men at his back 
 to crush the rising, the Londoners, Protestant though they 
 were, refused to cheer him. " The people crowd to look at 
 us," said the Duke moodily, "but not one calls, God speed 
 ye." 
 
 His courage failed suddenly, and Lady Jane was left without 
 supporters. Northumberland himself shouted with his men 
 for Queen Mary ; but his submission did not avert his doom, 
 and when he was sent to the Tower he drew with him the 
 innocent girl who had been the tool of his ambition. 
 
 On the scaffold Lady Jane admitted that her acts against 
 the Queen had been unlawful. "But," she added, "they 
 were not my fault, and I wash my hands thereof in inno- 
 cence before God and in the face of you, good Christian 
 people, this day." 
 
 She refused help, drew a white kerchief over her own 
 eyes, and said to the executioner, "I pray you despatch 
 me quickly." Kneeling before the block, she felt for it, 
 and as she placed her head upon it, she exclaimed just be- 
 fore the axe fell, "Lord, into thy hands I commend my 
 spirit." 
 
 An illustrious prisoner of the Tower was Sir Walter Raleigh, 
 who was confined in it for fourteen years. Once the favorite 
 of the Court, a distinguished explorer, an accomplished writer, 
 a man of science and a patriot, this unfortunate gentleman 
 was thrown into prison on false charges, his property was con- 
 fiscated, and eventually he was executed, though innocent of 
 any crime. His wife was allowed to share his confinement, 
 and he occupied his time with authorship and scientific re- 
 search. He wrote the first volume of his " History of the 
 World" while in the Tower, and discovered several medicines 
 which were held in high esteem for many years. " No one 
 
PORTRAIT OF RALEIGH, 
 
1618. Execution of Raleigh. 225 
 
 but my father," said Prince Henry, the son of James I., " would 
 keep such a bird in a cage." 
 
 At last he obtained his release, to command an expedition 
 to Guiana, which he intended to colonize in the interest of 
 England. He set sail with thirteen ships ; but his constitution 
 had been shattered by the hardships of his long imprisonment, 
 and on reaching Guiana he became so ill that he could pro- 
 ceed no farther. Following his instructions, however, the expe- 
 dition sailed up the Orinoco in search of gold. This involved 
 them in a conflict with the Spaniards, and though they were 
 victorious, and took the town of St. Thomas, the Government 
 at home condemned their action. 
 
 Just then a treaty was on foot for a marriage of Prince 
 Charles with the Spanish Infanta, and the English Government 
 was intent before all things on conciliating Spain. Philip's 
 ambassador was instructed to urge the punishment of Raleigh, 
 ostensibly for the attack on St. Thomas, but really because he 
 had always been recognized as the implacable enemy of Spain. 
 When he arrived at Plymouth, Raleigh was arrested, brought 
 to London, and once more committed to the Tower. 
 
 Here he was very narrowly watched, in the hope that some- 
 thing in his correspondence might be detected which could 
 be brought forward against him ; but as the Government failed 
 in this, it was determined that a sentence of death passed on 
 him fifteen years before should now be carried out. 
 
 " New offences," said the Chief Justice, " had revived what 
 the law had formerly condoned." 
 
 Raleigh was condemned to die on October 29th, 16 18, and 
 though he pleaded hard for a brief respite, the favor was de- 
 nied him. The place of execution chosen was the Palace 
 Yard at Westminster, and when the prisoner appeared he made 
 a speech, forgiving his enemies, but asserting his innocence 
 of the charges which had brought him to the block. 
 
 The morning being sharp, and some delays arising, the 
 15 
 
226 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 sheriff asked if he would like to warm himself at a fire. " No, 
 good Mr. Sheriff," said he. " Let us despatch ; for within this 
 quarter of an hour mine ague will come upon me, and if I 
 be not dead before then, mine enemies will say I quake for 
 fear." 
 
 Then he poised the axe, and felt its edge, saying with a 
 smile, " This is a sharp medicine, but it will cure all diseases." 
 Seeing that the headsman hesitated, he exclaimed, " What 
 dost thou fear? Strike, man." 
 
 Among others imprisoned in the Tower were Archbishop 
 Cranmer, and Bishops Latimer and Ridley ; Anne Boleyn ; 
 Queen Elizabeth ; the Gunpowder Plot conspirators ; Colonel 
 Blood, who attempted to steal the crown jewels ; Lady 
 Arabella Stuart ; the Duke of Buckingham ; Lord William 
 Russell ; Earl Strafford ; Algernon Sidney ; the Duke of 
 Monmouth ; and — more deservedly than any — the in- 
 famous Judge Jeffreys. 
 
 Few, except the queens, were executed within the walls ; 
 the death penalty was usually carried out on Tower Hill, in 
 an open space adjoining the Tower, where the last per- 
 son beheaded in England was executed, April 9, 1747, — 
 Lord Lovat, who died expressing his astonishment that such 
 vast multitudes should assemble "to see an old gray head 
 taken off." 
 
 Down by the river is "the Traitor's Gate," through which 
 many of the prisoners were admitted. On one of the stones, 
 when committed by her sister, Princess (afterwards Queen) 
 Elizabeth stood, refusing to land, until the lords who escorted 
 her threatened to use force. " Here landeth," she exclaimed, 
 "as true a subject as ever landed at these stairs — and be- 
 fore thee, O God I I speak it, having none other friend than 
 thee." 
 
 In January, 1640, Strafford was returned to the Tower 
 through the same gateway ; and this way also came Bishop 
 
1640. 
 
 Traitor s Gate. 
 
 227 
 
 Fisher, Anne Boleyn, the Earl of Surrey, Sir Walter Raleigh, 
 and Lady Jane Grey. 
 
 The Tower is now garrisoned by soldiers, whose red coats 
 blaze against the cold gray walls of the buildings, and many 
 of the rooms are filled with modern arms, arranged in dec- 
 orative forms. Every night at eleven o'clock the sentry of 
 the guard challenges the chief warden as that official goes 
 forth to lock up the fortress. 
 
 Locking up the Tower is an ancient and picturesque cere- 
 mony. A few minutes before the clock strikes the hour of 
 
 OLD LONDON BRIDGE. 
 
 eleven, — on Tuesdays and Fridays, twelve — the head war- 
 den, clothed in a long red cloak, bearing a huge bunch of 
 keys, and attended by another warden carrying a lantern, 
 appears in front of the main guard-house and loudly calls out, 
 " Escort keys ! " The Sergeant of the Guard, with five or 
 six men, then turns out and follows him to the " spur," or 
 outer gate, each sentry challenging, as they pass his post, — 
 
 " Who goes there ? " 
 
 " Keys," is the response. 
 
228 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 When the gates are locked and barred, the procession re- 
 turns, the sentries exacting the same explanation and receiv- 
 ing the same answer as before, until the front of the main 
 guard-house is again reached. The sentry there stamps his 
 foot and cries, " Who goes there ? " 
 
 " Keys." 
 
 "Whose keys?" 
 
 "Queen Victoria's keys." 
 
 " Advance, Queen Victoria's keys, and all 's well." 
 
 The warden now exclaims, " God bless Queen Victoria ! " 
 to which the guard responds, " Amen ! " 
 
 Immediately after this the officer on duty gives the word, 
 " Present arms ! " The firelocks rattle, the officer kisses the 
 hilt of his sword, the men of the escort fall in among their 
 companions, and the warden marches across the parade alone, 
 to deposit the keys in the Lieutenant's lodging. No one can 
 then enter or leave the Tower until morning, nor can any one 
 stir within the walls without having the countersign. 
 
 One can pity the sentry as he marches up and down on a 
 dark night, when no other sound can be heard than his own 
 footsteps on the stones and the moan of the wind as it blows 
 up the river. Particularly does he deserve sympathy if he is 
 a superstitious man, and knows something about the history 
 of the great prison. As he looks up at the high bleak walls, 
 the long battlements, the gaunt turrets, and the narrow case- 
 ments, and his mind dwells on the. former tenants, and he 
 recalls the tragedies which have been enacted, some of them, 
 perhaps, on the very spot upon which he is standing, it is 
 not strange that his imagination plays tricks with him now 
 and then, and that he fancies he hears sepulchral voices and 
 sees shadowy forms stalking about the ancient building. The 
 record of the Tower is a history of murder. Many innocent 
 persons have been incarcerated in its dungeons, and tortured 
 or put to death. The buildings are penetrated by winding 
 
1817. The Tower Ghosts. 229 
 
 passages, through which spies could pass to listen to the pris- 
 oners' conversation, and by which some of the prisoners were 
 led to secret execution. There are cells which are so sit- 
 uated, that at high tide the water-rats were driven into them, 
 to gnaw the unfortunate inmates ; and others with trap-doors 
 opening into ghastly holes, the purpose of which is plain 
 enough. Little wonder, indeed, that the sentry has a belief in 
 ghosts, and is glad when he sees the morning breaking in gray 
 streaks down the river. 
 
 Several ghosts are said to haunt the Tower, and a startling 
 apparition was seen by Edward Swift, keeper of the crown 
 jewels, one Saturday night in October, 181 7. 
 
 He was at supper with his wife, her sister, and his little boy, 
 in the sitting-room of the jewel-house. The room had three 
 doors and two windows ; between the windows a chimney- 
 piece projected far into the interior. 
 
 On that evening the doors were closed, the windows cur- 
 tained, and the only light was given by the candles on the 
 table. Mr. Swift sat at the foot of the table, with his boy on 
 his right, his wife facing the chimney, and her sister opposite. 
 
 Suddenly the lady exclaimed, " Great heavens ! what is 
 that?" Mr. Swift then saw a cylindrical figure, like a glass 
 tube, seemingly about the thickness of his arm, hovering 
 between the ceiling and the table. Its contents appeared to 
 be a dense fluid, white and pale azure, incessantly rolling 
 within the cylinder. This lasted two minutes, after which 
 the appearance began to move round the table. Mr. Swift 
 saw it pass behind his wife, who shrieked in an agony of terror, 
 " O God ! it has seized me ! " It then disappeared, neither 
 the sister nor the boy having seen it. But soon afterwards 
 the sentry at the jewel-house was terrified by " a figure like a 
 bear ; " he fell down in a fit, and died two or three days later. 
 
 The Tower still contains many of the old instruments of 
 torture, including the rack, which was called the " Duke of 
 
230 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 Exeter's daughter," it having been introduced by that noble- 
 man in the reign of Henry VI. 
 
 It is a large open frame of oak, raised three feet from the 
 ground. The prisoner was laid under it, on his back, on the 
 floor ; his wrists and ankles were attached by cords to two 
 rollers at the ends of the frame, and the rollers were moved by 
 levers in opposite directions, till the body rose to a level with 
 the frame. Questions were then put ; and if the answers did 
 not prove satisfactory, the sufferer was stretched more and 
 more, till the bones started from their sockets. 
 
 In 1546 occurred the only case in which a woman is re- 
 corded to have been tortured, the case of Anne Askew ; and 
 we learn that the Lord Chancellor, " finding the rack-keeper 
 falter in his operations, threw off his gown, and drew the rack 
 himself so severely that he almost tore her body asunder." 
 
 Alexander Brian t, a Jesuit, was, in May, 158 1, tortured in 
 the Tower ; and Anthony Wood says that, besides the ordi- 
 nary torture, he was "specially punished for two whole days 
 and nights by famine, being reduced to such extremities that 
 he ate the clay out of the walls of his prison, and drank the 
 droppings of the roof." Campion, the priest, who was 
 arrested in July, 1581, was severely racked in the Tower; and 
 though Lord Burleigh wrote that " the warders, whose office 
 it was to handle the rack, were ever, by those that attended 
 the examinations, specially charged to use it in as charitable 
 a manner as might be " — Campion was so wrung by the tor- 
 ture, that when he was arraigned, he could not lift his hand, 
 which was held up for him by a fellow-prisoner. 
 
 One warrant of Elizabeth's to the Lieutenant of the Tower 
 directs him to examine two prisoners charged with robbery, 
 and says that if they deny their guilt, they are " to be brought 
 to the rack, and to feel the smart thereof, as the examiners 
 by their discretion shall think good, for the better faulting out 
 the truth of the matter." 
 
1596. 
 
 The Use of the Rack. 
 
 231 
 
 In February, 1596-7, a warrant was issued for the racking 
 of William Thompson, " charged with a purpose to burn her 
 Majesty's ships, or to do some notable villany," and it has 
 
 MENAGERIE IN THE TOWER. 
 
 been said that " if we may draw our conclusions from the 
 entries in the Council-books, there is no period of our history 
 in which this torture was used more frequently and mer- 
 cilessly than during the latter years of Elizabeth's reign." 
 
232 Young Folks History of Londo?i. 
 
 " The rack seldom stood idle in the Tower for all the lat- 
 ter part of Elizabeth's reign," remarks Hallam. 
 
 The conspirators in the Gunpowder Plot were severely 
 racked, Guy Fawkes being tortured under a warrant in James's 
 own handwriting ; and Nicholas Owen, Garnet's servant, was 
 questioned while he was suspended by his thumbs from a 
 beam. He was threatened with the rack as a further means 
 of getting admissions from him, and the dread of that torture 
 drove him to commit suicide with his dinner-knife when the 
 jailer had for a moment left him alone. 
 
 Besides the rack, there were other instruments of torture 
 used in the Tower. 
 
 "The Scavenger's Daughter," — a name corrupted from 
 that of its inventor, Skevington, a lieutenant of the Tower 
 in the reign of Henry VIII. , — was a broad hoop of iron, 
 consisting of two parts, fastened together by a hinge. The 
 prisoner was compelled to kneel on the pavement, and to 
 contract himself into as small a compass as he could. The 
 executioner then knelt on his victim's shoulders, and having 
 passed the one part under his legs, he fastened the extremities 
 of the hoop over the small of the back. The time allowed 
 for this torture was an hour and a half, during which time 
 blood often started from the nostrils, and even from the hands 
 and feet. 
 
 " The Scavenger's Daughter " was used in a dungeon called 
 "Little Ease," which was so constructed that the prisoner could 
 neither stand, walk, sit, nor lie down. 
 
 Thumb-screws, favorite instruments in Spain, were not much 
 used in England, perhaps because the torture of the " iron 
 gauntlets" was considered more fully to carry out the princi- 
 ple on which they were constructed. These gauntlets could 
 be contracted by the aid of a screw, and served to compress 
 the wrists, and to suspend the prisoner from two distant points 
 of a beam. The prisoner was placed on three pieces of wood, 
 
THE ARMORY. 
 
1640. The Crown Jewels. 235 
 
 piled one on the other, which, when his hands had been made 
 fast, were successively withdrawn from under his feet. 
 
 F. Gerard, who was thus tortured, says : " I felt the chief 
 pain in my breast, belly, arms, and hands. I thought that all 
 the blood in my body had run into my arms, and began to 
 burst out at my finger ends. This was a mistake ; but the 
 arms swelled, till the gauntlets were buried within the flesh. 
 After being thus suspended an hour, I fainted ; and when I 
 came to myself, I found the executioners supporting me in 
 their arms ; they replaced the pieces of wood under my feet ; 
 but as soon as I was recovered, removed them again. Thus 
 I continued hanging for the space of five hours, during which 
 I fainted eight or nine times." 
 
 Torture seems to have been nearly always against the 
 spirit of the law in England, however, and it was last inflicted 
 in 1640. 
 
 Visitors to the Tower are escorted through the buildings 
 by elderly officials, who, though speaking with a pronounced 
 Cockney accent, wear the uniform of Henry VIII. 's yeomen 
 of the guard, and are historically known as "beef-eaters," — a 
 designation of doubtful origin. These worthies marshal the 
 visitors together, and lead them from place to place, giving 
 them bits of absolutely untrustworthy information on the 
 way. To a "beef-eater's" mind the chief points of attrac- 
 tion are the armories and the crown jewels. Both of these 
 are certainly interesting. The jewels are said to be worth 
 $t 5,000,000, and are enclosed in a glass case, carefully 
 guarded, and surmounted by the crown of Queen Victoria. 
 The latter is a diadem of gold, with four arches rising al- 
 most perpendicularly from the circlet. A cap of purple and 
 ermine fits the band where it rests on the head ; and the 
 gold work is ornamented with flowers and enriched with 
 jewels of enormous value. There are two rows of two hun- 
 dred and forty-one pearls, between which in front of the crown 
 
236 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 is a large sapphire. At the back is a cluster formed of seven 
 sapphires and eight emeralds. Above and below the sapphires 
 are fourteen diamonds, and around the eight emeralds one 
 hundred and twenty-eight diamonds. Between the emeralds 
 and the sapphires are sixteen trefoil ornaments, containing 
 one hundred and sixty diamonds. Above the band are eight 
 sapphires, surmounted by eight diamonds, between which are 
 eight festoons, consisting of one hundred and forty- eight dia- 
 monds. There is a tradition that the large sapphire came out 
 of the famous ring of Edward the Confessor, long treasured 
 at his shrine. In the centre of a Maltese cross in the crown 
 is a ruby said to have been given to the Black Prince, which 
 was worn by Henry V. at the battle of Agincourt. Out fleur- 
 de-lis between the crosses of the crown contains rose diamonds, 
 each flower having a ruby in the centre ; and the four arches 
 are composed of oak-leaves and acorns, containing nearly 
 eight hundred diamonds. The value of the gems alone is said 
 to be fully $600,000. 
 
 The other regalia in the case are the Prince of Wales's crown 
 of gold, without jewels ; the crown used by the Queen's con- 
 sort, of gold, set with diamonds and precious stones ; the 
 queen's circlet, made for Mary of Modena, wife of James II. ; 
 the orb, a ball of gold set with jewels and surmounted by a 
 cross, — a universal badge of authority, held by sovereigns in 
 the right hand at coronations ; St. Edward's staff, a golden 
 sceptre carried before the sovereign on the occasion just men- 
 tioned ; the " king's sceptre with the cross " and " the king's 
 sceptre with the dove ; " " the queen's sceptre with the cross ; " 
 the queen's ivory rod, — a sceptre with a golden cross and 
 dove ; the bracelets worn at coronations ; the royal spurs ; the 
 ampulla which holds the consecrated oil at coronations ; the 
 curtana, a sword of mercy carried between the swords of tem- 
 poral and spiritual justice ; the salt-cellar of state, a model of 
 the White Tower; the silver fountain presented to Charles II. 
 
1671. A Bold Attempt at TJieft. 239 
 
 by the town of Plymouth ; and the silver font used at the bap- 
 tisms of royal children. 
 
 A bold attempt to steal the jewels was made by an Irish- 
 man named Blood in the reign of Charles II. He had been 
 a lieutenant in Cromwell's army, and had then become a 
 Government spy. His desperate character was notorious. 
 On one occasion he waylaid the Duke of Ormond and 
 attempted to hang him at Tyburn, — a plan which all but 
 succeeded. 
 
 In the attempt to steal the regalia he had four accomplices. 
 Disguised as a country parson in band and gown, Blood first 
 visited the Tower accompanied by a woman who passed for 
 his wife. While they were looking at the jewels, the woman 
 feigned a sudden illness, and was shown into the private apart- 
 ments of Talbot Edwards, the deputy-keeper, a man eighty 
 years old. Blood then observed the situation and the few 
 means of defence at hand. Four days later, he called with a 
 present of gloves for Mrs. Edwards, and he repeated his visits, 
 becoming more friendly each time, until at last he proposed 
 that his nephew should marry the deputy- keeper's daughter. 
 He finally fixed a day when the bridegroom should present 
 himself for approval, and at the appointed time he arrived 
 at the outside of the iron gate with four companions, all being 
 on horseback. The plan of action was now fully matured. 
 Hunt, Blood's son-in-law, was to hold the horses; a man 
 named Parrot was to steal the globe, while Blood carried off 
 the crown ; a third accomplice was to file the sceptre into 
 pieces and slip them into a bag, and a fourth was to imper- 
 sonate the lover. All were armed. 
 
 While pretending to await the arrival of his wife, Blood asked 
 Edwards to show his friends the jewels, and accordingly they 
 were conducted into the treasure-house. It is the custom 
 that when any strangers are inspecting the jewels, the doors 
 shall be locked on the inside. Edwards turned the key, and 
 
240 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 was about to comply with the request that had been made, 
 when the thieves revealed their true character. They set 
 upon him, gagged him, and beat him until he was nearly 
 dead. Just at that moment the old man's son arrived home 
 from Flanders, and he was the means of frustrating the bold 
 attempt. Blood and Parrot made off at once with the globe 
 and crown ; but though they fired at one sentinel and 
 wounded another, they were captured with their comrades. 
 They were not punished, however. Their leader possessed 
 a strange influence over the King, and he was not only 
 pardoned, but received at Court and pensioned in the sum 
 of five hundred pounds a year. 
 
 The Tower also contains a remarkably extensive and inter- 
 esting collection of armor and weapons ; ancient British axes, 
 swords, and spears, halberds, shields, and helmets, and all the 
 paraphernalia of historic warfare. 
 
 The armories in the Tower were established by the earliest 
 kings, and many of the curiosities which they contain were 
 on view even in the time of Queen Elizabeth. In them one 
 can trace the development of armor from the time when the 
 Crusaders of Henry III.'s reign brought chain-mail from the 
 East, to the period of the elaborately engraved and otherwise 
 ornamented armor worn by Henry VIII. Armor fell into 
 disuse towards the close of the seventeenth century. 
 
 " Beyond all question," says an English writer, "the most 
 interesting building in Great Britain is the Tower of London. 
 There are other places remarkable for this and that historical 
 association ; for deeds of high-handed oppression ; for memo- 
 ries of life-long persecution : but none of these possesses a 
 record equal in interest to that c f any one of the score of dun- 
 geons in that gray isolated pile in which our kings have lived 
 and our nobles have perished for so many hundred years. 
 Each one of its many towers is a long chapter of our history, 
 full of violence and blood, and yet not without some noble 
 
1 67i. Varied Interest of the Tower. 241 
 
 incidents also ; each stone-walled chamber is a page out of 
 human life more romantic than novelist would dare to paint. 
 What scenes have those old walls witnessed ! What groans 
 have they heard ! A royal palace, — a state prison, — a 
 slaughter-house, where the noble and base have perished 
 by the indiscriminate axe, — a burial-place of murdered 
 queens !" 
 
" My house within the city 
 Is richly furnished with plate and gold; 
 Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands ; 
 My hangings all of Tynan tapestry; 
 In ivory coffers I have jtuff'd my crowns ; 
 In cypress chests my arras counterpoints, 
 Costly apparel, tents, and canopies, 
 Fine linen, Turkish cushions boss'd with pearl, 
 Valance of Venice gold in needlework, 
 Pewter and brass and all things that belong 
 To house or housekeeping." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE LORD MAYORS OF LONDON. 
 
 The opulence of London was a constant temptation to the 
 needy kings, who jealously saw the increasing power of its 
 citizens. Before the Conquest, the city possessed greater lib- 
 erties than the rest of the country ; and, as we have already 
 seen, William the First confirmed them, declaring that every 
 burgess in the city was law-worthy, and that every child should 
 be his father's heir. In other words, the charter which the 
 Conqueror granted — written on a slip of parchment six inches 
 long and one inch wide — acknowledged that Londoners 
 were not "villains" living on the land of their masters, that 
 they did not hold their land by the favor of any feudal lord, 
 and that they could inherit property from their fathers and 
 bequeath it to their heirs. The citizens of other towns, like 
 Leicester, had to reap the corn of their earl, to grind at his 
 mills, and to redeem their stray cattle at his pound, while the 
 "villains " could neither inherit property nor bequeath it. 
 
 Another charter was granted by Henry the First which 
 recognized the legality of the ancient privileges. The citi- 
 zens could not be called upon to plead or answer any law- 
 suit brought against them outside their own city, they were 
 exempt from the duties and taxes imposed on other parts of 
 the country, and soldiers could not be quartered upon them. 
 To a remarkable extent they possessed the rights of self- 
 government. But it must not be supposed that such exten- 
 
244 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 sive concessions were made by the Crown out of love of the 
 city. On the contrary, as we have said, the monarch always 
 looked jealously on the power which the corporation possessed, 
 and coveted the wealth of the citizens. 
 
 Henry the Third's opinion was expressed when the Coun- 
 cil at Westminster refused to grant him money, and advised 
 him to sell his plate to the city. " If the treasure of Augus- 
 tus," he angrily cried, "were to be sold, these Londoners 
 would buy it ! " Accordingly, the city was compelled to 
 pay dearly for its privileges, and every line in the successive 
 charters may be said to have been purchased with gold. 
 Sometimes, indeed, the same privilege was paid for two or 
 three times over, and it was the custom of nearly all the 
 kings, when they were impecunious, to revoke the charter, 
 and to restore it only after the payment of a large sum of 
 money. The monarch was a brigand who made a hostage 
 of Liberty, and demanded an enormous price for her ransom. 
 On all sorts of absurd pretexts, penalties were imposed on 
 the city, and nothing but the inexhaustible riches of the citi- 
 zens could have enabled London to perpetuate her ancient 
 and exceptional privileges. She was robbed by nearly all 
 the kings, but her opulence enabled her not only to recover 
 the rights arbitrarily taken away from her, but also to aug- 
 ment them and put them upon a securer basis year after 
 year. The citizens endured the rapacity of the Crown with 
 much patience. They bowed low to the king, who was like 
 a highwayman, and they treated him with magnificent hospi- 
 tality while the coin which he had extorted from them was 
 still jingling in his royal pockets. They were diplomatic : 
 they meant to succeed, and they were generally on the win- 
 ning side. They favored Prince Edward in the Barons' 
 War ; they were Yorkists in the Wars of the Roses ; they 
 were Roundheads in the strife between Charles the First 
 and Cromwell ; and they were Whigs in the Revolution of 
 
1223. The First Lord Mayor. 247 
 
 1688. Year by year they strengthened their position, and 
 little by little they shook off the yoke of king and bishop. 
 
 The charter granted by Henry the First seems to have 
 been the first step towards making the city a corporation ; 
 and King John conferred upon the city the right of electing, 
 annually, a mayor and common councilmen. Previous to 
 this the mayor had been appointed by the king for life, and 
 though the title was first given by Richard the First to Henry 
 Fitz Alwyn, who bore it for twenty- four years, the first Lord 
 Mayor elected by the city was Richard Renger (a. d. 1223). 
 It was a condition of the election, however, that the person 
 chosen should be submitted to the king for approval, and as 
 his Majesty was often abroad in his own dominion or across 
 the Channel, this condition led to vexatious and embarrassing 
 delays. 
 
 The honor of election was a great one in the eyes of all 
 the merchants and their apprentices, and on occasions of 
 state the mayor rode through the streets on horseback, at- 
 tended by a long cavalcade nearly as imposing as that which 
 escorted the sovereign from the Tower to Westminster on 
 coronation days. 
 
 The courtesy title of lord was first conferred upon him 
 by Edward the Third, and he became a " right honorable " 
 under the same King, who did much to encourage the mer- 
 chants of London. One Lord Mayor, Sir Geoffrey Bullen, 
 or Boleyn, was grandfather of Queen Elizabeth, and among 
 the ennobled families who have descended from either may- 
 ors, sheriffs, or aldermen of London, are the names of Corn- 
 wallis, Capel, Coventry, Legge, Cowper, Thynne, Ward, 
 Craven, Marsham, Pulteney, Hill, Hollis, Osborne, Caven- 
 dish, and Bennet. 
 
 The opening of the reign of the new mayor is annually 
 celebrated on the 9th of November with a pageant which 
 attracts a vast London crowd. His lordship rides forth in 
 
248 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 his carriage of state (an enormous chariot of gold), attended 
 by his suite and delegations of all the city companies, with 
 bands of music and glittering banners. Each guild is attired 
 in a characteristic costume, and there are also battalions of 
 the fire brigade, the militia, and the inmates of various city 
 institutions, including the young blue-jackets of the training- 
 ships. There are men in armor and quaintly dressed rep- 
 resentatives of the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers. A 
 feature of recent processions has been the American flag, 
 borne by a guard of honor, to symbolize the good-will of 
 England towards her offspring across the sea. The medie- 
 valism of the procession is oddly mixed up with latter-day 
 innovations. Here are the Foresters, dressed in the tradi- 
 tional garb of Robin Hood, and various artisans, whose dress 
 is that in which their predecessors have for centuries taken 
 part in the celebration. This part of the cavalcade might 
 have stepped out of a picture of Cheapside as that thorough- 
 fare was when poor Anne Boleyn came from Greenwich to 
 Westminster on her coronation day ; and its antique pictu- 
 resqueness has an incongruous effect when it joins the 
 carriages of the aldermen, with their modern " stove pipe " 
 hats and broadcloth, the prosaic constables, and the glitter- 
 ing engines of the firemen. 
 
 Much of the ancient glory of Lord Mayor's day has 
 departed, and civic dignity no longer inspires with respect- 
 ful awe the assembled spectators. The men in armor are 
 laughed at, and the celebration is treated as a joke which is 
 becoming a little stale. But to the children who are brought 
 into town to see it from the windows of the shops and 
 houses along the* route, the procession is still a superb and 
 wonderful affair. 
 
 Time was when it surpassed all other pageants, and filled 
 the river as well as the streets. The mayor embarked in a 
 barge of state, decorated with rich fabrics, banners and 
 
i6i6. 
 
 A Famous Pageant. 
 
 249 
 
 streamers and heraldic shields. Fifty barges, filled by the 
 various city companies, followed him, and preceding him 
 was a float, upon which was a large dragon, emblematic of 
 the Tudor arms, which vomited fire, while round about it 
 were other monsters belching forth smoke and flame. The 
 cloths and banners were of silk and gold and silver. On 
 another barge was the image of a white falcon, crowned, on a 
 golden rock, and environed with white and red roses, — Anne 
 Boleyn's device, — and around this sat many virgins singing 
 and playing sweetly. All the barges were decorated with 
 banners and hung with arras and rich carpets, and " shalms, 
 
 THE OLD LORD MAYOR'S BARGE. 
 
 shagbushes, and divers other instruments continually made 
 good music." 
 
 One of the most gorgeous Lord Mayor's shows was that of 
 16 16, when John Leman was inaugurated. First in the 
 procession came a Dutch fishing boat on wheels, wherein 
 fishermen were busy drawing up nets full of live fish, which 
 were thrown among the people. This was followed by a 
 gigantic crowned dolphin ridden by Arion, and third in the 
 pageant was the King of the Moors astride of a golden leopard, 
 from which he threw coin among the spectators, while fol- 
 lowing him again were six tributary kings in gilt armor, each 
 carrying gold and silver ingots, — these representing the Gold- 
 
250 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 smiths' Company. Next came a charade-like embodiment 
 of the Lord Mayor's name — Leman. A car bore a large 
 lemon-tree full of fruit, with a pelican feeding her young ; 
 and at the top of the tree sat five children, representing the 
 five senses. Seeing was typified by an eagle, hearing by a 
 hart, touch by a spider, tasting by an ape, and smelling by 
 a dog. 
 
 The next feature of the procession was an effigy in armor 
 of Sir William Walworth, the mayor who slew the rebel chief 
 Wat Tyler, and who was himself a Fishmonger. He was sur- 
 rounded by the shields of all other Lord Mayors who had 
 belonged to this guild, and attended by five mounted knights 
 and a man-at-arms who bore the rebel's head upon a dagger. 
 Six trumpeters and twenty-four heraldiers surrounded him, 
 arrayed in light blue silk, with his arms emblazoned on the 
 backs, and the Fishmongers' arms on the breast. At a given 
 signal, an angel with a crown and golden wings approached 
 the effigy of the recumbent knight, and when she touched it 
 with her wand, Sir William arose from his sleep and took part 
 in the procession. 
 
 Finally, there was a triumphant car drawn by two mermen 
 and two mermaids, in which sat a guardian angel defending 
 the crown of Richard the Second. At the feet of the king 
 were virgins personifying Truth, Virtue, Honor, Temperance, 
 Fortitude, Zeal, Equity, and Conscience, while two coarse 
 figures, representing Treason and Mutiny, crouched before 
 them. 
 
 Mr. Pepys, we may be sure, had something to say about 
 the Lord Mayor's shows, but he had more thought of " my 
 new velvet cloak, the first that ever I had in my life," than 
 of the display. 
 
 The finest feature of the modern Lord Mayor's shows is 
 the carved and gilt coach of his lordship, and the paintings 
 with which it is decorated perpetuate some of the ancient 
 
1883. A Costly Honor. 253 
 
 pageants. On the panel of the right door Fame is seen pre- 
 senting the mayor to the genius of the city ; on the left door 
 the same genius is represented attended by Britannia, who 
 points her spear to a shield bearing the name of Henry Fitz- 
 Alwyn, the first mayor. There are also pictures of Truth 
 with her mirror, Temperance holding a bridle, Justice, and 
 Fortitude. The front panel exhibits Faith and Hope point- 
 ing to St. Paul's ; the back panel reveals Charity, with two 
 virgin embodiments of Plenty and Riches casting money and 
 fruits into her lap, while a wrecked sailor and a sinking ship 
 fill up the background. 
 
 The carved work of the coach is elaborate and beautiful 
 after its fashion, consisting of cupids supporting the city arms, 
 and other symbols. The vehicle is a mass of gilt, and origi- 
 nally cost over $5,000. 
 
 The mayoralty is a costly honor to the incumbent. The 
 salary and allowances paid to him during his year of office 
 amount, says Timbs, to $30,500. The sumptuously furnished 
 Mansion House is given to him for a residence, and he is 
 provided with plate worth about $159,000. His household 
 consists of twenty gentlemen and a splendid retinue of ser- 
 vants. He also has the use of the wine cellars of the Man- 
 sion House and their contents. But so much hospitality and 
 such an amount of display are expected of him, that his salary 
 and allowances are insufficient, and to them he must be pre- 
 pared to add large sums out of his private fortune. The 
 smallest amount upon which he can escape is about $20,000, 
 and if he is of a lavish disposition he can spend three or four 
 times that sum without any difficulty. 
 
 The Mansion House banquets are unequalled for their 
 richness ; and on the occasion when the city entertained the 
 Prince and Princess of Wales, a diamond necklace which cost 
 $50,000 was given to the latter, the total expense of the 
 entertainment having been about $300,000. 
 
254 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 Fairholt, the antiquarian, gives us a full account of the 
 manner of the mayor's election and of his functions. He is 
 chosen by the freemen or " livery " of the ninety-one guilds 
 or city companies. He must be an alderman, and must pre- 
 viously have served in the office of sheriff. On the 29th of 
 September, every year, the names of all the aldermen who 
 have not been Lord Mayors are submitted to the Recorder 
 of the city, and a show of hands is taken upon each. The 
 two names receiving the largest show of hands are returned 
 to the Court of Aldermen, and the court elects the bearer of 
 one of the two to be Lord Mayor during the ensuing year. 
 No man can possibly be elected who has failed in business, 
 unless he has paid all his debts in full ; and nominally the 
 person chosen must receive the approbation of the Crown. 
 
 On the 8th of November the Lord Mayor elect is publicly 
 sworn into office at Guildhall, and the next day is the occa- 
 sion dear to Londoners as Lord Mayor's Day, when, with all 
 the pageantry that we have mentioned, his lordship goes 
 through the city in state to Westminster, there to be again 
 sworn to support and uphold the Crown and make a due 
 return of all fines and fees passing through his hands during 
 his year of office. Formerly it was customary for him to go 
 to Westminster by water in a state barge, but the procession 
 on the river has been abandoned. 
 
 Passing through Cheapside, Fleet Street, the Strand, and 
 Charing Cross in going to Westminster, the procession re- 
 turns to Guildhall by the way of the new Embankment, and 
 in the evening a magnificent banquet is given, at which the 
 Prime Minister usually makes an important speech outlining 
 his policy and future intentions. This banquet is given by 
 the city, and it generally costs about $50,000. On other 
 occasions the expenses of the banqueting are borne by the 
 Lord Mayor and the sheriffs, the former paying half, and the 
 latter one fourth each. 
 
1883. The Mayor s Hospitality. 255 
 
 The most arduous duties of the mayor are those of hospi- 
 tality. If any public fast is ordered by the Crown, he and 
 the Corporation attend St. Paul's Cathedral in black robes ; 
 but on occasions of thanksgiving they appear in scarlet. If 
 an address is to be presented to the Throne, the corporation 
 goes in state, and the Lord Mayor wears a gown of gold cloth. 
 On Easter Monday and Easter Tuesday he attends Christ 
 Church, the sanctuary connected with the famous school, 
 Christ's Hospital, and all the scholars in their blue gowns 
 and yellow stockings, with masters, beadles, and clerks, walk 
 in procession before him. On Easter Monday, also, he gives 
 the grandest dinner of the year in the Egyptian Hall, at the 
 Mansion House, which is attended by royalty and followed by 
 a ball. On Easter Tuesday, before going to church, he pre- 
 sents a purse, containing fifty guineas, in sixpences, shillings, 
 and half-crowns, to the boys of Christ's Hospital, who pass 
 before him through the Mansion House, each receiving a 
 piece of silver (fresh from the mint), two plum-buns, and a 
 glass of wine. It is said that in these degenerate days the 
 boys do not appreciate the honor so much as they ought 
 to do. 
 
 " One benefactor of the school," Mr. Pascoe tells us in his 
 book, " Everyday Life in our Public Schools," " left a legacy 
 on condition that a certain number of boys should receive a 
 pair of gloves, to be worn in the various processions at Easter- 
 tide. On these gloves were to be printed the words, 'He is 
 risen.' The gloves, it may be mentioned, are still given, but 
 in place of being absurdly printed on them, the words are 
 displayed on a paper badge worn on the left breast. . . . 
 Sixpences are excellent in their way j but it is a trifle absurd 
 to find well-grown lads, headed by beadles, walking in a pro- 
 cession through the streets of London with scraps of paper 
 pinned to their breasts bearing the legend, 'He is risen.' 
 And as for the gift of pence and plums, for many years it has 
 
256 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 been considered by the boys themselves an indignity to be 
 selected to receive them." 
 
 Then his lordship entertains the judges at dinner ; then the 
 sons of the clergy, and then the bishops. On the 28th of 
 September he swears in the sheriffs, and two days later pro- 
 ceeds with them in state to Westminster, where they are once 
 more sworn in. 
 
 The rights and privileges of the mayor are like the sover- 
 eign power over the state. He has the badges of royalty 
 attached to his office — the sceptre, the swords of justice and 
 mercy, and the mace. The gold chain, one of the most an- 
 cient distinctions, is worn by him for life. He controls the 
 city purse, and has the right of precedence in the city before 
 all the royal family. Royalty itself cannot enter the city 
 until his formal consent has been granted, and soldiers can- 
 not march through the city until his permission has been ob- 
 tained by the commander-in-chief. He enjoys the right of 
 private audience with the Crown, he is summoned as a privy 
 councillor on the death of the monarch, and the Tower pass- 
 word is regularly sent to him. He has a veto upon the 
 Courts both of Aldermen and Common Council, as well as 
 upon the Court of Livery in Common Hall, none of these 
 courts being able to meet unless convened by him, and he 
 can at any time dissolve any or all of the courts mentioned 
 by removing the sword and mace from the table and de- 
 claring the business at an end ; though when exercised this 
 is considered an ungracious display of power. 
 
 There are many quaint observances about the office, and 
 many of the vassals bear titles peculiar to themselves. Thus 
 there are three "sergeants of the chamber," one "yeoman of 
 the chamber," a " master of ceremonies," a " sergeant of the 
 channel," a " yeoman of the channel," two " yeomen of the 
 waterside," a "deputy water-bailiff," a "water-bailiff's first 
 young man," a " water-bailiffs second young man," a " com- 
 
i4ii- Gog and Magog. 259 
 
 mon hunt's young man," and a " sword-bearer's young man." 
 This reminds us of the song in Patience ; but the persons who 
 bear these appellations of youth are usually old and choleric, 
 and aldermanic in proportions. 
 
 Guildhall is in the American sense the " city hall " of 
 London, while the Mansion House is the official residence 
 of the mayor. The former was built in 141 1, and survived 
 the Great Fire, though the roof and outbuildings were burned. 
 In it are the two famous figures of Gog and Magog. 
 
 The Emperor Diocletian, says the old legend, had thirty- 
 three infamous daughters, who murdered their husbands, and 
 being set adrift in a ship, reached Albion, where they fell 
 in with a number of demons. The offspring of this unnat- 
 ural alliance was a race of giants afterwards extirpated by 
 Brute and his companions, refugees from Troy. Gog and 
 Magog, the last two of the giant race, were brought in fetters 
 to London, then called Troy-novant or Trinovant, and being 
 chained to the palace of Brute, which stood on the site of 
 Guildhall, did duty as porters. 
 
 Here we have an echo of the old fable of the foundation 
 of London by the descendants of ^Eneas mentioned in our 
 first chapter. But the true origin of Gog and Magog is 
 unsettled. Formerly one was called Corinaeus and the other 
 Gogmagog. The latter name is now divided between them. 
 The existing figures were carved in fir-wood in 1707 by 
 Richard Saunders, and are accepted as symbols of the 
 dignity of the city. 
 
 The hospitalities of the mayor are divided between the 
 Guildhall and the Mansion House, the grand dinner on the 
 9th of November being given in the former, where the feast- 
 ing is not less extensive than at the latter. 
 
 The most distinguished Lord Mayor previous to Whitting- 
 ton was Sir William Walworth, to whom we have already re- 
 ferred. But Whittington himself towers above all who, before 
 
2G0 J oung Folks* History of Loudon. 
 
 his time or since, have held the office, and to him we shall 
 devote a separate chapter. 
 
 Another worthy Lord Mayor was John Philpot (1378), 
 who distinguished himself by his patriotism and gallantry. 
 During his administration the Channel and the North Sea 
 became unsafe to merchanl vessels, owing to the depredations 
 of a piratical fleet under a Scotchman named Mercer. Find 
 ing thai the Government would not, or could not, put this 
 marauder down, [ohn Philpol fitted out a fleet at his own ex- 
 pense, and sailed forth with a thousand men to chastise the 
 pirate. He found him off Scarborough, and engaged himin 
 battle, defeating him and capturing his ships, with which he 
 sailed in triumph to the Nore. Mercer was slain, and all 
 who had ships ,it sea were grateful for being relieved of this 
 scourge ; bul the king, ever wanting a pretext for taking his 
 subjects' money, demanded to know why Philpot had ven- 
 tured on the expedition without royal permission, and, pre- 
 tending to be dissatisfied with his answer, lined him for 
 contempt. 
 
 In less than a year the king was again ill want of money, 
 
 and Philpot generously advanced ii to him, and provided him 
 
 with a Meet lor his expedition into France. 
 
 Whittington was mayor in [396, [397, 1 406, and 14 1 9 — 
 
 twice iii the reign of Richard the Second, once in that of 
 Henry the Fourth, and once in thai of Henry the Fifth. 
 
 Twenty-seven years after his final administration, the Lord 
 Mayor was Sir Simon Eyre, who is principally remembered 
 fOr a joke which he played on the Worshipful Court of 
 
 Aldermen. 
 The latter wanted him to stand for sheriff, but he excused 
 
 himself, on the ground thai his income was not sufficient to 
 allow' him to grace the office. "How is this?" they said. 
 " Nave you not boasted that you break your fast every day 
 upon a table for which you would not take a thousand 
 
 pounds?" 
 
«537- Sir Richard (ires ham. 26 1 
 
 Sir Simon invited them home to dinner, and when they 
 readied his house he asked his wife to " prepare the little 
 table" and set some refreshments before the guests. She 
 would have refused, but as he would not take her excuse, she 
 seated herself upon a low stool, and spread a damask napkin 
 over her knees, with ;i venison pasly thereon. 
 
 "Behold," exclaimed Sir Simon, "the table for which I 
 would not take a thousand pounds." The legend adds thai 
 die spectators were astonished, and it is likely that they 
 thought the joke, as we do, pretty far fetched. 
 
 After Philpot, Walworth, and Whittington, the most illus- 
 trious boid Mayor, perhaps, was Sir Richard Gresham, \. i>. 
 [537. lb- was the father of the founder of the Royal Ex- 
 i hange, and one of his daughters married an ancestor of the 
 Marquis of Bath, while one of his brothers became related to 
 the Duke of. Buckingham and Lord Braybrooke. Sir Richard 
 became a Gentleman Usher Extraordinary to Henry the 
 Eighth, and when die monasteries were abolished by that mon 
 arch, a pari of their lands were given to him. He advocated 
 the establishment of an Exchange (an idea which his son car- 
 ried on!), encouraged freedom of trade, and is said to have 
 invented bills of exchange. When Cardinal Wolsey losl die 
 favor of the King, Gresham stood by the unhappy prelate, 
 and one of the few things we know to the credit of Henry 
 the Eighth is that he did nol abandon the Lord Mayor be 
 cause the latter remained loyal to one who had fallen from 
 grace. 
 
 Many of the Lord Mayors began life humbly. Sir Samuel 
 Fludyer is said to have been a stable-boy, and yel he became 
 connected with several noble families. I lis second wife was 
 granddaughter of a nobleman and a niece of the Earl <>l Car- 
 digan. His sons married into the Montague and Westmore- 
 land families, and among his descendants are conne< lions ol 
 the Earls Onslow and Brownlow. 
 
262 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 In 1762 and 1769 the Lord Mayor was William Beckford, 
 who, though he inherited riches, was descended from a 
 tailor. He was a friend of Lord Mansfield and the Earl of 
 Chatham. His son wrote that extraordinary work of poetic 
 imagery and caustic wit, " Vathek," which the author is said 
 to have produced at one sitting. " It took me," he has 
 stated, " three days and two nights of hard labor. I never 
 took off my clothes the whole time." A granddaughter of 
 the Lord Mayor and daughter of the novelist became the 
 Duchess of Hamilton. Lord Mayor Kennet (1780) had 
 been a waiter, and his character never rose above that level. 
 Even when he was chief magistrate it was a byword that if a 
 bell was rung Kennet would answer it from force of habit. 
 
 Vainglory has not been missing among these magnates 
 who have overcome the obstacles of their youth, but it has 
 not often been so bluntly expressed as by Sir Peter Laurie 
 (1832-3). He was entertaining the judges and leaders of 
 the bar, and at his side sat Lord Tenterden. Waving his 
 hand towards the latter during an after-dinner speech, Sir 
 Peter said : " See before you the examples of myself, the 
 chief magistrate of this great empire, and the Chief Justice of 
 England sitting at my right hand, both now occupying the 
 highest offices of the State, and both sprung from the very 
 dregs of the people !" Lord Tenterden was, indeed, the son 
 of a barber and wig-maker, but he must have winced at hear- 
 ing his parents described as the "very dregs of the people." 
 Lord Mayor Kelly was a bookseller's boy who used to sleep 
 under his master's counter, and Lord Mayor Pirie, a great 
 shipowner, also began life friendless and penniless. 
 
 An amusing account is given by Mr. Edward Walford in 
 his Londoniana of Sir William Staines, Lord Mayor in 1 800. 
 He began life, like Ben Jonson, as a bricklayer, and so far 
 from being ashamed of it, he often told his friends of his early 
 experiences. When quite a young man he happened to be 
 
1800. A Prophetic Dream. 263 
 
 employed upon some repairs at the parsonage house at Ux- 
 bridge. As he was going up the ladder one day with his hod 
 and mortar, he was accosted by the parson's wife, who told 
 him that in the previous night she had been visited by an 
 extraordinary dream ; for that as she lay asleep she dreamt 
 that he would one day, like Dick Whittington, wear a gold 
 chain as Lord Mayor of London. Taken aback at the story, 
 and astonished at hearing such a prophecy, young Staines 
 could only thank the lady for telling him of such a promo- 
 tion awaiting him in the future. But he had neither money 
 nor friends, nor had he received more than the very poorest 
 education ; so he put away the thought of rising in the great 
 city world, and gradually forgot the prophecy. 
 
 The clergyman's wife, however, was not easily to be turned 
 from her dream, which had made a great impression upon 
 her. Her mind was fixed on the young bricklayer, and she 
 resolved that what she had dreamed should come true. 
 Moreover she dreamed the same dream again, and again 
 repeated it to Staines, who left Uxbridge carrying it in his 
 mind. Bit by bit he rose to be a master-bricklayer, and then 
 a builder, and by the time he reached middle-age he had a 
 fortune. At last the dream was fulfilled, and when Sir Wil- 
 liam became Lord Mayor he made the lady's husband his 
 chaplain. 
 
 Perhaps it is not to his discredit that he married his cook- 
 maid ; and we have a pleasant picture of him sitting among 
 his friends in the days of his honor and affluence, and dis- 
 coursing between the puffs of his pipe on the jobs he had 
 done as a bricklayer. The stone-work of a bath in the City 
 Road was done by him, and he often boasted of this as one 
 of his best works. 
 
Here lies Sir Richard Whittington, thrice Mayor, 
 And his dear wife, a virtuous loving pair ; 
 Him fortune raised to be beloved and great, 
 By the adventure only of a cat. 
 Let none that read it of God's love despair, 
 Who trusts in Him, He will of him take care. 
 But growing rich, chuse humbleness, not pride ; 
 Let these dead virtuous persons be your guide. 
 
 Epitaph on Whiltingtoii's Tomb. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 RICHARD WHITTINGTON. 
 
 According to the old story, Dick Whittington was an out- 
 cast boy, born in Somerset, who travelled about the country 
 living upon the charity of well-disposed persons, till he grew 
 up to be a fine sturdy youth, when he resolved to go to Lon- 
 don, having heard that its streets were paved with gold. 
 
 Not knowing the way, he followed the carriers, and at night, 
 for the little service he did them in rubbing their horses, they 
 gave him a supper. 
 
 Arrived in London, he wandered about, weary and faint, 
 and at last went to a merchant's house, begging for food. 
 The ill-natured cook threatened to kick him from the door, 
 saying, " If you tarry here, I will kick you into the kennel." 
 At first Mr. Fitzwarren, whose house it was, also ordered the 
 poor boy away • but seeing his pitiable condition, the mer- 
 chant relented, and told the cook to give him employment as 
 a scullion. 
 
 Though he was thus saved from starvation, Dick's lot con- 
 tinued to be a hard one. Mistress Alice, Fitzwarren's daugh- 
 ter, took an interest in him, but the more she favored him, the 
 crueller the cook used him. Even at night he was not left 
 in peace, for the attic in which he was put to sleep was in- 
 fested with rats, which ran over his face ; and so his condition 
 was a sorry one indeed. One day, however, he purchased a 
 cat, and relieved himself of one of his miseries. 
 
 Now it was the custom of Mr. Fitzwarren to call his ser- 
 vants together when he sent out a ship, and to cause every 
 
266 . ; Folks' History of Lo?ido?i. 
 
 one to venture something in it. When Whittingtor 
 asked what he would contribute to :'. ge, he fell upon 
 
 his knees, desiring the others not to jeer at him, since all he 
 couL-1 - his cat. 
 
 Mistress Alice offered to lay something down for him, but 
 her father told her that it was his custom to accept nothing 
 except articles which belonged to the persons contributing 
 them. Dick, therefore, surrendered his cat to the master of 
 the ship, which was called the " Unicorn/' and he sorrowfully 
 saw his pet carried away to s 
 
 We need not relate how the ship was driven by contrary 
 winds on to the coast of Bar g iom 
 
 overrun with rats, which were not only offensive at the King's 
 table, but also in his cham :ad to be guarded 
 
 from them. The supercargo then bethought himself of Whit- 
 tington's cat, and told the King that he had an English beast 
 in the ship that would rid all the Court of the vermin quickly. 
 King desired to see this surprising creature, saying. " For 
 such a thing I will load your ship with gold, diamonds, and 
 pea:.- 
 
 This large offer made the master endeavor the more to 
 enhance the cat's merits. He said ; " She is the most admir- 
 able creature in the world, and I cannot spare her. for she 
 keeps my ship clear of rats, which otherwise would destroy 
 all my goods." But his Majesty would take no denial, sa a 
 *• No price shall par: 
 
 The cat being sent for. and the tables spread, the rats came 
 as before. Then she fell to immediately, and killed them all 
 in a trice : afterwards purring and curling up her tail before 
 the King and Queen, as if asking a reward for her service. 
 
 A bargain was concluded, the King giving ten times more 
 for the cat than for all the rest of her cargo, and the u Uni- 
 corn n returned to England with more riches than ever any 
 ship had brought before. 
 
RICHARD WHITTINGTON. 
 
1350. Errors Concerning Whittington. 269 
 
 When Whittington was made to understand his great good 
 fortune, he fell upon his knees and praised Almighty God, 
 who had vouchsafed to behold so poor a creature in the 
 midst of his misery. Then, turning to his master, he laid 
 his riches at his feet ; but Fitzwarren said : " No, Mr. Whit- 
 tington ; God forbid I should take so much as a ducat from 
 you. May it be a comfort to you." Then Whittington 
 turned to Mistress Alice, but she also refused the treasure ; 
 upon which, bowing low, he said unto her, " Madam, when- 
 ever you please to make choice of a husband, I will make 
 you the greatest fortune in the world." 
 
 He now began to distribute his bounty to his fellow-ser- 
 vants, giving even his mortal enemy, the cook, one hundred 
 pounds for her portion ; and he also distributed his bounty 
 very plentifully to all the ship's crew. 
 
 Prosperity continued to attend him, and Mistress Alice 
 soon became his wife. 
 
 Such is the old legend, condensed from an old pamphlet ; 
 but Messrs. Rice and Besant have superseded this story with 
 a rational biography of this illustrious man, which, if it is less 
 romantic, is as full of encouragement to an ambitious lad as 
 the fable. 
 
 Whittington was not an outcast boy who knew neither father 
 nor mother, and who supported his pitiable life by rubbing 
 down the horses of the carriers ; he did not wander, starving, 
 to London, and was not driven from Fitzwarren's door by 
 the termagant cook; nor did Mistress Alice, the' merchant's 
 pretty daughter, find it necessary to protect the poor lad 
 from that odious virago ; he was not hired as a scullion, nor 
 beaten on the head with his own pots and pans ; and if he 
 heard Bow Bells singing "Thrice Lord Mayor of London" 
 to him, they were as untrustworthy as the clock which struck 
 thirteen, for he was Lord Mayor four times. But to pass 
 from the legend to history, he became rich, though he started 
 
270 
 
 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 poor, he did marry Mistress Alice, and it is not at all un- 
 likely that his change of fortune was brought about by a cat. 
 The evidence concerning his origin was not easily procured. 
 
 OLD CHARING CROSS. 
 
 His name was not an uncommon one, and yet in his time 
 there were no parish-registers. But he bore a coat-of-arms, 
 and from it the primary clue to his identity was obtained. 
 
i35°- Whittingtou 's Origin. 271 
 
 The crest was a bee or a May-fly. Now the same coat-of- 
 arms — with the difference that instead of a bee the crest was 
 a lion's head — was borne by a family, also named Whitting- 
 ton, whose history can be clearly traced. There is no doubt 
 that this family was his family, and it is probable that he 
 changed the crest to symbolize the patient toil by which suc- 
 cess is obtained, if it is a bee, or to symbolize the uncer- 
 tainty and ephemeral nature of human happiness, if it is a 
 gold-tipped May-fly. This, however, is not the only evi- 
 dence of his connection with the family alluded to. The 
 Whittingtons had an estate in Pauntley, Gloucestershire, a 
 small village consisting of the church, a manor-house, and a 
 few scattered cottages. In the north windows of the chancel 
 of the church still exist the remains of ancient stained glass, 
 on which are emblazoned the arms of the Whittingtons with 
 those of the families into which they intermarried ; while in 
 the west window under the tower are found the arms of the 
 Whittingtons impaling those of the Fitzwarrens. It is cer- 
 tain that the great Sir Richard married Alice Fitzwarren; 
 and his connection with the Whittingtons of Pauntley is thus 
 clearly established by the emblazoned arms in the old church 
 window. 
 
 The head of the family in 1350 was Sir William Whitting- 
 ton, and he married in 1352 or 1353 the widow of Sir Thomas 
 de Berkeley, who became the mother of three sons, named 
 respectively William, Robert, and Richard, the latter being 
 the youngest. The ordinary ideas about Whittington's ori- 
 gin are thus shown to be groundless. His father was a knight 
 and his mother a lady, and he had all the advantages good 
 birth could bestow. His father died in 1360, and the estate 
 became the property of his eldest brother, William. 
 
 What followed is thus explained by Mr. Walter Besant : " I 
 find a country lad, the youngest of three ; his eldest brother 
 succeeds to the property ; the second stays on the estate ; 
 
272 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 the third shall be sent to London and apprenticed, not to a 
 handicraft, but to an honorable trade ; not to a meanly-born 
 tradesman, but to a man of good old west-country stock, such 
 as Fitzvvarren was. To him the boy shall be sent ; he has 
 promised to receive him into his service. He will take care 
 that the slender portion of the youngest son shall not be 
 wasted ; he will teach the boy the mystery of buying and 
 selling ; he will launch him into the great world. . . . 
 At the age of thirteen, then, and somewhere about the year 
 1 3 7 1 , the lad was sent up to London to seek his fortune in 
 the usual way, by apprenticeship and honorable trade. 
 . . . Would the widow of Sir William let her boy set off 
 for London unbefriended and helpless? Nothing more cer- 
 tainly disputes the old theory about young Dick Whittington 
 than this fact, that he was apprenticed to a Fitzwarren." 
 
 Fitzwarren himself was a younger son of the great house of 
 that name which came to England with the Conqueror, and 
 in being apprenticed to him Whittington was in no sense 
 degraded. The children of the best families often came to 
 London to seek their fortune in trade under similar auspices. 
 
 Then in regard to the cat various learned interpretations 
 of the legend have been made. Most antiquarians have 
 laughed at it, and Dr. Lysons was the first to declare that it 
 was not only possible, but also probable. 
 
 His book shows that in some countries cats had a very 
 great value, and he quotes an early traveller in South Guinea, 
 who tells that his expedition was seriously harassed by rats, 
 which devoured parrots alive, and bit the men, and stole their 
 clothing. Under such circumstances it can be imagined that 
 a cat would be greatly prized. 
 
 In the middle ages tame cats were scarce in Europe, and 
 high prices were paid for them. One Alphonso, a Portu- 
 guese, was wrecked on the coast of Guinea, and the mice 
 were so troublesome to the people there, that he received his 
 
1460. The Legend of the Cat. 273 
 
 weight in gold for a cat. He improved his good fortune 
 there so rapidly, that within five years he was worth a great 
 sum of money, and when he returned to Portugal he was the 
 third richest man in the kingdom. 
 
 Again, the jirst Spanish cat ever taken to South America 
 was purchased by a companion of Pizarro for six hundred 
 pieces of gold ; and the folklore of nearly all countries has a 
 person similar to Whittington in it. Another explanation of 
 the " cat " is that it is a corruption of the French word achat, 
 a purchase. According to this, Whittington made a purchase 
 which he afterwards resold to great advantage, and so people 
 attributed his fortune to " a cat," which is as nearly as pos- 
 sible like what the pronunciation of achat would be. 
 
 Still another suggestion is that the ships employed in the 
 carriage of sea-coal to London were called " cats," so that a 
 " cat " full of coal may have been the foundation of Whitting- 
 ton's fortune. But the vessel that bore this name was copied 
 from Norwegian models, from five to six hundred tons bur- 
 den, and there is little probability that ships as large as this 
 were built in Whittington's time. 
 
 A genuine cat was beyond a doubt associated with Whit- 
 tington's fortunes, and the legend has corroborative evidence 
 in the portraits of him, and also in the buildings which he 
 gave to the city. There used to exist in Mercers' Hall a por- 
 trait of him, dated 1536, in which he was represented as a 
 man about sixty years of age, having at the left hand a black 
 and white cat. There are earlier monuments still, which con- 
 nect the great merchant with the cat. His executors pulled 
 down and rebuilt the jail of Newgate, in conformity with his 
 will, and until the Great Fire his statue, with a cat, remained 
 in a niche on one of the gates. 
 
 There is yet more evidence. The Whittingtons had a 
 house in Gloucester which they occupied until 1460, and 
 when, twenty years ago, some changes were being made in the 
 
 18 
 
274 Young Folks History of Ltrndon. 
 
 ancient building, a basso-relievo was found representing the 
 figure of a boy carrying in his arms a cat. The workmanship 
 appears to be of the fifteenth century, and if it is of that time, 
 it is proof that the family of Whittington, in his own time, 
 believed in the cat story. 
 
 But Mr. Besant will not accept the sentiment with which 
 Dr. Lysons idealizes the tradition. He does not believe that 
 there was any extraordinary attachment between Dick and 
 his pet, nor that the boy shed tears when he parted with her. 
 " As boys are now, so they were then. Let us regard Whit- 
 tington as a healthy, honest lad, who would be no more in- 
 clined to cry over a cat than a boy of his age would cry over 
 one now. And there is one thing very suspicious. If cats 
 were precious, how did he, being as poor as Dr. Lysons 
 would make him, get possession of one ? And seeing how 
 great was the value of a cat in those lands whither the ship 
 was bound, is it unreasonable to suppose that he invested 
 what money he could spare in sending one out for sale ? 
 Whittington 's first small success was made by a little venture. 
 The sailors told him about the rats and mice ; he bought a 
 cat and sent it out. It was the shrewd venture of a clever 
 boy, and the cat sold well. Then he made other ventures, 
 always with profit, and gratefully ascribed his first success to 
 his lucky cat." 
 
 His gifts to the city were as wise as they were generous, 
 and his hospitality was magnificent. In his last term of of- 
 fice he entertained Henry V. and the Queen, and the banquet 
 was one such as few monarchs could have invited a guest to 
 sit down to. Even the fires were fed with cedar and per- 
 fumed wood. When Katharine spoke of the costliness of 
 the fuel, Lord Mayor Whittington said that he proposed to 
 feed the flames with something still more valuable, and there- 
 upon he threw into the fire the King's own bonds, to the 
 amount of sixty thousand pounds, — a sum at that time equal 
 
1423- A Compliment to the King. 275 
 
 to $7,250,000 of our present money ! The King, astonished 
 at being thus relieved of his debts, exclaimed : " Surely never 
 had king such a subject ! " To which Whittington gallantly 
 replied, a Surely never had subject such a king ! " 
 
 Whittington, as we have said, was Lord Mayor in 1396, 
 1397, 1406, and 1419. He gave great sums of money to 
 charity, and died, an example of the model Christian mer- 
 chant, in 1423, when he was sixty-five years of age. 
 
Sir Mannerly. Well, did any one ever see the like ! What a brave 
 place is this London ! It is, as the song says, the finest city that ever 
 I saw in my life. 
 
 Booby. Oh, 't is a brave place ! 'T is not a city ; 't is a great coun- 
 try, all o' houses. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE TRADE-GUILDS OF LONDON. 
 
 The principal aim of the trade-guilds of London when they 
 were established was to exclude all but their members from 
 carrying on the business or trade which they represented, 
 and they exercised their authority with a good deal of sever- 
 ity. They protected the industries from foreigners, but they 
 did not protect the artisan from his employer. In no sense 
 were they what the "trades-union" of workmen is now. 
 Attempts were made by the journeymen to form themselves 
 into companies for the good of wages, but in the end all these 
 combinations were put down. 
 
 " A seven years' apprenticeship," says Mr. J. R. Green in 
 his " Short History," " formed the necessary prelude to full 
 membership of any trade-guild. The regulations were of the 
 minutest character : the quality and value of work were rig- 
 idly prescribed, the hours of toil fixed from ' daybreak to 
 curfew,' and strict provision was made against competition in 
 labor. At each meeting of the guilds their members gath- 
 ered around the craft-box which contained the rules of their 
 society, and stood with bared heads as it was opened. The 
 warden and a quorum of guild brothers formed a court which 
 enforced the ordinances of the guild, inspected all work done 
 by its members, and confiscated unlawful tools and unworthy 
 goods ; disobedience to their orders was punished by fines, 
 or in the last resort by expulsion, which involved the loss of 
 right to trade. A common fund was raised by contributions 
 among the members, which not only provided for the trade 
 
Young Folks Histo?y of London. 
 
 objects of the guild, but sufficed to found chantries and 
 masses, and erect painted windows in the church of their 
 patron saint. Even at the present day the arms of the craft- 
 guild may often be seen blazoned in cathedrals side by 
 side with those of prelates and of kings 
 
 None of the trades was without its patron saint. The Fish- 
 mongers adopted St. Peter and met at St. Peter's Church ; 
 the Drapers chose the Virgin Mary, mother of the Holy 
 Lamb or Fleece, as the emblem of their trade : the Gold- 
 smiths' patron was St. Dunstan. who was said to have been 
 
 ANCIENT WINDSOR CASTLE. 
 
 one of their craft, and the Merchant Taylors adopted St. 
 John the Baptist, who was the harbinger of the Holy Lamb. 
 In other cases the Companies named themselves after the 
 saint in whose chapel they worshipped. The Grocers called 
 themselves the fraternity of St. .Anthony, because they had 
 an altar in St. Anthony's Church ; and from a similar connec- 
 tion with S in's Church the Vintners called themselves 
 the fraternity of St. Martin's. In their processions to church 
 the Companies were joined by the religious orders, singing 
 and bearing wax-tapers, and they were frequently attended by 
 the Lord Mayor and the great civic authorities in state. 
 
i88> Functions of the Guilds. 279 
 
 Respecting the provisions made against the competition of 
 one trade with another, Mr. Besant says that when the Cob- 
 blers and the Cordwainers quarrelled, it was ruled that no 
 person who worked on old shoes should meddle with new 
 shoes, and that no person who worked on new should med- 
 dle with old ones. 
 
 The wardens had great powers, of which an account has 
 been given in Chapter II. 
 
 There are now over eighty separate guilds, and sixteen of 
 these have halls of their own. The twelve great Companies 
 are the Grocers, the Mercers, the Drapers, the Fishmongers, 
 the Goldsmiths, the Skinners, the Merchant Taylors, the 
 Haberdashers, the Salters, the Ironmongers, the Vintners, and 
 the Cloth-workers. Among the extinct companies are the 
 Silkmen, the Pin-makers, the Soap-makers, the Hatband- 
 makers, the Long-bow-string makers, the Wood-makers,, the 
 Starch-makers, and the Fishermen. 
 
 Few of the Companies which still exist have much to do 
 with the trades which they are supposed to represent, and 
 the principal duties of their officers consist in the manage- 
 ment of worthy charities and the exercise of a profuse hospi- 
 tality during civic celebrations. 
 
 The Goldsmiths and Apothecaries, however, still control 
 their trade, and have the right of search and of marking 
 wares ; the Stationers have the privilege of exacting a fee 
 for registering copyrights ; the Gunmakers are empowered to 
 look after the quality of all the guns made in the city, and 
 the Saddle-makers to look after the saddles; the Painters 
 issue a price-list which has authority, and the Pewterers and 
 Plumbers are privileged to make assays. Some of the Com- 
 panies retain the right of excluding others than their mem- 
 bers from the trades which they represent, and among these 
 are the Apothecaries, the Brewers, the Pewterers, the Builders, 
 the Barbers, the Saddlers, the Paint-stainers, the Plumbers, 
 
28o Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 the Innholders, the Founders, the Poulterers, the Cooks, the 
 Weavers, the Scriveners, the Farriers, the Spectacle-makers, 
 the Clock- makers, the Silk-throwers, the Distillers, the To- 
 bacco-pipe-makers, and the Carmen. 
 
 But there are threats of depriving all the ancient guilds of 
 their privileges, and of making them render up an account of 
 their treasure. They have fallen into ill-odor. Their halls 
 have been called " shrines of gluttony," and it is said their 
 immense income — about five million dollars annually — 
 finds its way into other pockets than those for which it was 
 originally intended. They once served the public interests. 
 They secured skilled workmanship and protected buyers from 
 the adulterations of dealers who were inclined to be dishon- 
 est. It was the careful training of apprentices insisted upon 
 by the guilds which gave English workmen the supremacy 
 the<y long held ; and it was one of the conditions upon which 
 the charters of these associations were granted that they 
 should look after the public interests. But now, it is com- 
 plained, they collect their revenues and make no return for 
 their privileges. The inspection of goods has to be done at 
 the expense of the ratepayers ; no standard is enforced either 
 for the character of workmanship or for the purity of materials, 
 and the members no longer belong to the trades which these 
 Companies severally represent. 
 
 The Companies are composed of two classes, freemen and 
 liverymen. Freedom may be acquired by servitude, patri- 
 mony, or redemption. Servitude formerly meant apprentice- 
 ship to a working craftsman and the acquirement of a practi- 
 cal knowledge of his calling ; but now it can be obtained by 
 apprenticeship to a member, whether the latter belongs to a 
 craft or not. Freedom by patrimony means freedom by 
 inheritance, and freedom by redemption may be acquired by 
 the payment of a sum of money. The only privilege the free- 
 men have is participation in the bounty of their companies. 
 
COURT OF ALDERMEN- GUILDHALL. 
 
1883. A Profitable Office. 283 
 
 The liverymen are elected from among the freemen, and 
 are of a higher grade than the latter. They are entitled 
 to wear the livery of the Companies, to partake of the feasts, 
 and to vote at the parliamentary elections for the City of 
 London. They also have vested in them the election of the 
 sheriffs and some other corporation officials, and the nomina- 
 tion of the Lord Mayor. When a vacancy occurs, a livery- 
 man is elected to fill it, but he is chosen not by his associate 
 liverymen, but by the governing body, which is self-electing. 
 The latter is called the Court of Assistants, and the mem- 
 bers are responsible only to themselves, and are sworn to 
 secrecy. 
 
 Good things, it has been said, culminate when a man is 
 elected to the Court of Assistants. He is paid a handsome 
 salary, and if he serves on a committee he is paid extra. He 
 attends a sumptuous dinner at least once a week, and is paid 
 for that too. His relatives may be educated gratuitously in 
 the splendid schools maintained by the Companies, and pro- 
 vided with scholarships at the Universities. When they grow 
 up, the inexhaustible funds of the Companies are again used 
 for them. The patronage of the member of the court is not 
 restricted to them, however. He can also feed and clothe 
 in almshouses of the Company a large number of poorer and 
 more distantly related pensioners. 
 
 It is not to be wondered at, then, that a seat in the Court 
 of Assistants is a coveted prize, nor that, as the court is a 
 self-electing body, the members of it usually choose relatives 
 to fill the vacancies in it that occur. Some time ago it was 
 admitted before a parliamentary committee that of thirty-four 
 members of the Fishmongers' court, twenty-two were con- 
 nected with each other by blood, marriage, or business part- 
 nerships. 
 
 Now considering the vast wealth belonging to the Compa- 
 nies which has accumulated from property bequeathed to 
 
284 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 them in trust, and from taxes imposed for services which they 
 no longer perform ; considering, also, the perversion of the 
 original purpose of the charters, which was to protect the pub- 
 lic from adulterations and inferior work, and to encourage 
 honest craftsmen ; considering that the funds of the Compa- 
 nies have fallen into the hands of persons who do not belong 
 to the trades which they claim to represent, and who admin- 
 ister the money with notorious extravagance, — considering 
 these facts, it is not unlikely that the guilds will be " pilled 
 and shaved," as the old chronicler hath it, for a better pur- 
 pose than satisfying the needs of an improvident king, as they 
 were when the weeping monk of Bee was building the Tower 
 of London. 
 
 Sir John Bennett, the watchmaker, once said, in homely 
 language, that some of the Companies were like " flies in a 
 treacle-pot — they could not move for wealth; " and when 
 an alderman was asked what they did with their enormous 
 income, he apologetically explained that they only spent 
 about thirty per cent of it for eating. Only thirty per cent 
 of it ! That is about one million five hundred thousand 
 dollars a year. Some of it goes for charity, however, and the 
 beneficiaries of this part are worth some mention. They in- 
 clude extensive almshouses and schools, and funds for the 
 support of decayed members, for the relief of the poor, for 
 exhibitions to the Universities, for the amelioration of the 
 condition of persons in city jails, and for lectures and ser- 
 mons. Small sums are also provided to start young begin- 
 ners in business. The charities are not all located in London 
 or its neighborhood. Some of them are as far away as Ire- 
 land, where some of the Companies have large estates. 
 
 The form of the benefactions is sometimes very curious. 
 The Drapers' Company supports five almshouses, three 
 schools, and several funds for pensions. It also has a fund 
 for providing marriage portions to certain women. The 
 
INTERIOR OF MERCHANT TAYLORS' HALL. 
 
1 56 1. The Merchant Taylors School. 287 
 
 Goldsmiths' Company has eighteen different charities under 
 its direction, and the Haberdashers' Company has thirty, in- 
 cluding funds out of which loans are made to the poor, aid 
 is given to the prisoners in Newgate, preacherships are en- 
 dowed, and gifts are made to poor debtors. The Mercers' 
 Company has twenty-nine charities connected with it, includ- 
 ing one for paying the fees of apprenticeships, another for 
 poor debtors, another to help young men starting in business, 
 and another for loans. The Stationers' Company has one 
 fund to provide liverymen and freemen with an overcoat, and 
 others for the benefit of compositors and pressmen. The 
 officers of the Fishmongers' Company stated to a parliamen- 
 tary commission that they disbursed about ten thousand 
 pounds, or $50,000, annually in charities, and as this was 
 more than twenty years ago, the amount is probably much 
 larger now. 
 
 No little good is also done in the way of education by 
 these wealthy guilds, and the Merchant Taylors' School stands 
 as high as any in England. It was founded in 1561, when a 
 leading member offered a sum equivalent to about $15,000 of 
 our money towards the purchase of a part of the manor of the 
 Rose, in the parish of St. Lawrence Poulteney. The Rose 
 was a spacious mansion originally built by Sir John Poulteney, 
 five times Lord Mayor of London in the reign of Edward III. 
 After passing through the hands of the Hollands, the De la 
 Poles, the Staffords and Courtenays, it was granted to the 
 Ratcliffe or Sussex family. The name of the street, Suffolk 
 Lane, from which it is entered, and of the parish, still recalls 
 its former occupants. Ducksfoot Lane, in the vicinity, was 
 the Duke of Suffolk's foot-lane or private pathway from his 
 lordship's garden. Shakespeare speaks of 
 
 " The Duke being at the Rose, within the parish 
 Saint Lawrence Poultney." 
 
288 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 The ancient premises were destroyed in the Great Fire of 
 1666, and they were rebuilt by Wren in 1675. 
 
 By the. original statutes of 165 1 it was ordained that the 
 high-master should be " a man in body whole, sober, discreet 
 honest, vertuous, and learned in good cleane Latin literature, 
 and also in Greeke yf such may be gotten." In 1566 the 
 school was greatly helped by Sir Thomas White, a member of 
 the Company, who founded St. John's College at Oxford, and 
 appropriated no less than forty-three of the fellowships for 
 scholars of the Merchant Taylors', putting it on a plane with 
 Eton, Harrow, and Westminster. Two hundred and fifty 
 boys were to be educated, and of these one hundred were to 
 be free. 
 
 The first headmaster was Richard Mulcaster, who wrote 
 Latin plays which the boys acted before Queen Elizabeth, 
 and of his severe manners Fuller has left us an amusing 
 account : " In a morning he would exactly and plainly con- 
 strue and parse the lesson to his scholars, which done he 
 slept his hour (custom made him critical to proportion it) 
 on his desk in the school ; but woe be to the scholar that 
 slept the while. Awakening, he heard them accurately, and 
 Atropos might be persuaded to pity as soon as he to pardon 
 where he found just fault. The prayers of cockering mothers 
 prevailed with him as much as the requests of indulgent 
 fathers, rather increasing than mitigating his severity on their 
 offending children." 
 
 Mulcaster quarrelled with the Merchant Taylors', and after- 
 wards wielded the " wonderful fruit-bearing rod " at St. Paul's 
 School. 
 
 Mr. Pascoe tells us that the Merchant Taylors' is richer in 
 its scholarships than any other school in the United Kingdom, 
 with one exception ; but the only part of its history which is 
 interesting is the record of its illustrious graduates. Fore- 
 most among the latter was William Juxon, Bishop of London, 
 
1883. Educational Endowments. 289 
 
 and after the Restoration, Archbishop of Canterbury, who 
 faithfully attended Charles the First on the scaffold. Ten 
 other bishops were likewise educated at the Merchant Taylors/ 
 including Andrewes, Bishop of Winchester during the reign 
 of James the First. 
 
 Andrewes and . the Bishop of Durham were one day in 
 presence of the monarch, when he demanded, " My lords, 
 cannot I take the money of my subjects when I want it, with- 
 out all this formality in Parliament? " 
 
 The Bishop of Durham readily answered, with courtier-like 
 acquiescence in the royal will, " God forbid that you should 
 not ; your Majesty is the breath of our nostrils." 
 
 The King then turned to Andrewes : " What say you, my 
 lord?" 
 
 "I am no judge of parliamentary cases," the Bishop 
 replied. 
 
 " No put-offs ! " petulantly rejoined his Majesty ; " answer 
 me at once." 
 
 " Then, sir," added Andrewes, " I think it quite lawful for 
 you to take my brother of Durham's money, as he offers it." 
 
 The Merchant Taylors' School has given up its old quar- 
 ters in Suffolk Lane, and now occupies the monastic buildings 
 of the Charterhouse in Smithfield, the Grayfriars of Thackeray, 
 whose scholars are provided for out of the bounty of Thomas 
 Sutton, in handsome new buildings at Godalming, Surrey. 
 
 As a sop to the public, which is becoming suspicious of 
 the City Companies, several of the latter have recently com- 
 bined to establish an institution for the advancement of tech- 
 nical education, and about $50,000 a year will be spent in 
 this way. But the wardens and courts of assistants who have 
 so many fat perquisites may tremble, for their tenure of office 
 is insecure. The wealth they control is held to be a public 
 trust which they are misusing, and very soon, no doubt, it 
 will be taken out of their hands. 
 
 19 
 
290 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 The guilds are not what they were, nor what they were in- 
 tended to be. The benevolent feeling in its true sense does 
 not inspire them. Formerly, when plates and dishes were 
 considered luxuries, and forks were unknown, baskets of 
 wicker-work were placed beside each guest's seat, and frag- 
 ments of the feast were thrown into them for the poor. The 
 poor were ever present at the rejoicings. The receptacles 
 were called " void baskets," and frequent allusions to them 
 occur in the old dramatists. At the present time, in another 
 form, the custom still exists. It now takes the shape of costly 
 bonbons-, which are carried home by the guests for their wives 
 and children. The hospitality of the Companies is truly mag- 
 nificent. Even the railway fares of guests coming from a dis- 
 tance are paid by these lavish entertainers ; but the beauty of 
 the hospitality is lost when we remember that the persons 
 who dispense it are using money which does not belong to 
 them. 
 
 We have not yet said anything about the halls of the Com- 
 panies, which are among the most interesting of the city's an- 
 tiquities. Originally each Company had only a large room to 
 meet in, but afterwards, as the duties and uses of the guild 
 became onerous and extensive, other apartments were added 
 to the building. 
 
 One of the earliest was the Goldsmiths', built in 1502, 
 which rivalled in extent and beauty Westminster Hall, the 
 palace of the king. 
 
 Most of the halls which existed before or near the Refor- 
 mation seem to have been formed out of the deserted man- 
 sions of the great. Drapers' Hall was the mansion of Lord 
 Cromwell, and it still retains its fine gardens. Salters' Hall 
 was the town seat of the Earls of Oxford, and the Grocers 
 built on the site of Lord Fitz waiter's town mansion. The 
 minor Companies in several instances bought the halls of the 
 dissolved religious houses, the Leather-sellers taking the house 
 
GOLDSMITH HALL. 
 
1466. 
 
 Ancient Use of the Hall. 
 
 293 
 
 of the nuns of St. Helen's, the Pinners the house of the Aus- 
 tin Friars, and the Barber-Surgeons the Hermitage of St. 
 James. 
 
 As the guilds advanced in wealth and influence, every hall 
 was required to have connected with it a granary and an 
 armory; apartments were provided for decayed members, 
 and there was always a room for the almsmen to assemble in 
 
 CRYPT IX GUILDHALL. 
 
 when called upon to join in processions and pageants. Then, 
 again, there were offices in which the almsmen, pensioners, 
 and poor of the commonalty were relieved, and large spaces 
 were required for the storage of the allegorical devices used 
 in the annual pageants. 
 
 The most valuable contents of the building were the arti- 
 cles of silver plate which belonged to the guild, for it was a 
 custom of the members to bequeath drinking-cups, salvers, 
 
294 Voting Folks History of London. 
 
 and goblets of " sylver, sylver guylte, parcel guylte, or sylver 
 white." In the records of the Goldsmiths' Company, for 
 instance, we find many such entries as these : 
 
 " 1466 — A standing cuppe of sylver with a cover weigh- 
 ing XXIV ounces troy, given by Thomas Swetanham, grocer. 
 Jh'u be merciful unto his soul ! " 
 
 " 1467 — Of the gyfte of John Godyn, grocer (Jh'u have 
 mercy on his soul !), a standinge cuppe, the cover of sylver, 
 and alle gylte with roses and sonnes, weighing XXXI ounces. 
 
 "1467 — Of the gyfte of Sir John Howard, Knyghte, a 
 standing cuppe, and cover of sylver, and alle gylte, weying xvj 
 ounces and half troy weighte. God send him long life and 
 welfare." 
 
 The modern halls are more sumptuous than those of the 
 olden time, but very little of their furniture is paid for out of 
 the pockets of members of the guild, and instead of having 
 varied uses, as in the past, they are reserved almost exclusively 
 for feasting. There are thirty-five halls in the city, and in 
 1873 the estimated value of the buildings was ^287,800. 
 
 Goldsmiths' Hall, Foster Lane, in the rear of the General 
 Post-Office, is the finest of all, and is the third hall which has 
 stood upon the site. It was built between 1832 and 1835, 
 and is in the Italian style of the seventeenth century. The 
 west front, which is one hundred and eighty feet wide, has 
 six Corinthian columns, some of the blocks in which weigh 
 from ten to twelve tons each, and the columns support a rich 
 entablature and cornice. An entrance door of ornamental 
 metal leads into the hall and staircase, which are lined with 
 costly marbles of different colors. The windows are of stained 
 glass, the walls are decorated with paintings, and the corners 
 are filled with statuary. The great banqueting-hall is a mag- 
 nificent apartment, with a range of Corinthian pillars on both 
 sides. The five lofty arched windows are filled with the 
 
1833. Fishmongers Hall. 295 
 
 armorial bearings of eminent goldsmiths of past times, and 
 at the north end is an alcove for the display of plate. 
 
 The Company's plate is of course remarkably valuable. 
 It includes a chandelier of chased gold, weighing one thou- 
 sand ounces ; two old gold plates having on them the arms 
 of France quartered with those of England ; and a gold cup 
 out of which Queen Elizabeth is said to have drunk at her 
 coronation. 
 
 This Company is authorized, and it still exercises its power, 
 to see that every article manufactured of gold and silver is up 
 to its proper standard ; and to it, also, belongs the " trial of 
 the pix," a curious proceeding of great solemnity, which takes 
 place every year. The " trial of the pix " is a test of the 
 purity and weight of the money coined at the mints. The 
 wardens of the Company are summoned to form a jury, and 
 having received a charge from the Lord Chancellor, they re- 
 tire into the court room of the Duchy of Lancaster, where the 
 "pix" is delivered to them. The pix is a small box, and it 
 contains the coins which are to be examined. A number of 
 coins are taken at random from a large quantity, and these 
 are assayed by the jury, who certify to their perfection 
 or imperfection, delivering their verdict in writing to the 
 Chancellor. 
 
 Where the handsome Anglo-Greek building of the Fish- 
 mongers' Company, at the west side of the foot of London 
 Bridge, stands to-day, that guild has had a stronghold ever 
 since the reign of Edward the Third. This is the third build- 
 ing, and was erected between 1830 and 1833. Hare says of it : 
 " It is one of those huge palaces of dignified repose which 
 are such a feature of the city." It is imposing, but solid 
 comfort rather than luxury characterizes the interior. The 
 rooms are lofty and spacious, and the great hall is rich in 
 wood-carving and armorial bearings. 
 
 In one of the rooms is a capacious chair, made out of the 
 
296 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 first pile that was driven in the construction of Old London 
 Bridge. The seat of the chair is made from a part of the 
 stone upon which the pile rested, and according to all ac- 
 counts the pile and stone together were under water for 
 upwards of six hundred and fifty years. 
 
 A plate on the back bears this inscription : " This chair 
 was made by J. Ovenston, 72 Great Titchfield Street, London, 
 from a design furnished by the Rev. William Joliffe, Curate 
 of Colmer, in Hampshire ; and it was made entirely from 
 wood and stone taken up from the foundation of Old London 
 Bridge, in July, 1832, having remained there 656 years, being 
 put down, in June, 11 76, by the builder, Peter, a priest, who 
 was Vicar of Colechurch ; and 'tis rather curious that a priest 
 should begin the bridge, and, after so long a period, that a 
 parson should clear it entirely away." 
 
 Upon the seat the following words are cut : "I am part 
 of the first stone that was put down for the foundation of Old 
 London Bridge, in June, 11 76, by a priest named Peter, who 
 was Vicar of Colechurch in London ; and I remained there 
 undisturbed, safe on the same oak piles this chair is made 
 from, till the Rev. William -John Joliffe, Curate of Colmer, 
 Hampshire, took me up in July, 1832, when clearing away 
 the old bridge after New London Bridge was completed." 
 
 The hall also contains a large number of portraits of kings 
 and queens and benevolent liverymen ; and of curiosities, 
 there is the identical dagger with which that most eminent 
 Fishmonger, Sir William Walworth, slew W T at Tyler at Smith- 
 field. 
 
 In Fishmongers' Hall Canning made a famous speech : 
 " Gentlemen, we are invited here to meet the Fishmongers. 
 Now the Fishmongers have dealings with a very large com- 
 munity, from whose habits I think they might learn something. 
 I mean the community of fishes. The fish is one of the most 
 uncommunicative animals in creation ; it says nothing, and it 
 
1 561. Otigin of the Mercers' Company. 297 
 
 drinks a great deal. Let us, then, on the present occasion, 
 as we are to some extent brought into their company, imitate 
 their habits. Let us not waste our time in talking, but let us 
 drink a good deal." 
 
 Mercers' Hall is in Ironmongers Lane, Cheapside, and 
 on the site of the present entrance from Cheapside stood 
 the house of Gilbert a Becket, father of Thomas. After the 
 murder of the great Archbishop, his sister Agnes and her hus- 
 band erected a chapel and hospital on the same spot. These 
 were destroyed by the Great Fire, and in their place a hall for 
 the Mercers was built, the front of which is ascribed to 
 Wren. Here may be seen the original documents relating 
 to some of Whittington's charities, and portraits of that 
 worthy and of many other distinguished Londoners. 
 
 A note may be made here of the origin of this Company. 
 The word " mercer " in ancient times was the name of a 
 dealer in small wares, and not, as afterwards, a vender of silks. 
 Merceries then comprehended all things sold at retail by the 
 " little balance," in contradistinction to things sold by the 
 beam or by the gross, and they included not only toys, 
 haberdashery, and various articles connected with dress, but 
 also spices and drugs and all that at present constitutes the 
 stock of a general shopkeeper. 
 
 The Mercers frequented the fairs and markets. Afterwards 
 the silk trade formed the main feature of their business, 
 though it was divided with " the silk women and throwsters 
 of London," who in petitioning for their charter in the reign 
 of Henry the Sixth prayed " that the Lombards and other 
 strangers might be hindered from importing raw silk into 
 the realm, contrary to custom, and to the ruin of the mystery 
 and occupation of silk-making and other virtuous female 
 occupations." In 1561 the Mercers were generally known 
 as dealers in silk. 
 
 Merchant Taylors' Hall is appropriately in Threadneedle 
 
298 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 Street, and is a spacious but irregular edifice of brick. The 
 banqueting-room is larger than any other, and has a stately 
 screen and music gallery. The windows are of stained glass, 
 and the walls are emblazoned with the arms of the members. 
 
 The present hall was built after the Fire on the site of a 
 much older one which was the scene of a splendid festival 
 given by the Merchant Taylors to James the First and Prince 
 Henry. On this occasion a child " delivered a short speech 
 containing xviii verses, devised by Mr. Ben Jonson," and a 
 ship was hung aloft in the hall containing " three rare men 
 and very skilful, who sang to his Majesty." One of the 
 songs of the " three rare men in the shippe : ' so pleased the 
 King, that he made them repeat it three times. Another ac- 
 count says : " The three menne were dressed like saylers, 
 being eminent for voyce and skill, who in their severall 
 songes were assisted and seconded by cunning lutanists. 
 There was also in the hall the musique of the cittie, and in 
 the upper chamber the children of his Majestie's Chappel 
 sang grace at the King's table, and also whilst the King sate 
 at dinner, John Bull, Doctor of Musique, one of the organists 
 of His Majestie's Chappel Royal, being in a citizen's cappe 
 and hood, played most excellent melodie uppon a small payre 
 of organs, placed there for that purpose onely." 
 
 From Merchant Taylors' Hall began the famous calvacade 
 of archers belonging to the Company, which mustered three 
 thousand men, more than nine hundred of whom wore chains 
 of gold around their necks. They were escorted to the butts 
 by over four thousand whifners and billmen, and the proces- 
 sion was one of the most imposing ever seen in the city. 
 
 The origin of the name " Merchant Taylors or Tailors " is 
 said to have been in the vanity of the craft. As the wealth 
 of the members grew, they became ashamed of their calling, 
 and attached to themselves the prefix of "Merchant," to 
 which, in a strict sense, they were not entitled. Their busi- 
 
1672. Celebrated Merchant Taylors. 301 
 
 ness was a handicraft, and not like that of the Mercers, of 
 whom they were jealous, mercantile. Their vainglory is fre- 
 quently noticed by writers of the seventeenth century. Pepys 
 speaks of having purchased a "History of the Merchant Tay- 
 lors' Company," which he found so absurd and ridiculous that 
 he threw it aside in disgust. The title of the book was : "The 
 Honor of the Merchant Taylors : wherein are set forth the 
 valiant deeds and heroic performances of merchant tailors in 
 former days, their honorable loves and knightly adventures, 
 their combating of foreign enemies and glorious successes in 
 honor of the British nation ; together with their pious acts 
 and large benevolences, their building of public structures, 
 especially that of Blackwell Hall, to be a market place for 
 selling woollen cloths." 
 
 But, in fact, many celebrated men have been connected 
 with the Company. Among these may be mentioned Sir 
 John Hawkwood, who was the son of a tailor in Manningtree, 
 where he was born in the time of Edward the Third. He was 
 afterwards sent up to London and apprenticed to a tailor, 
 but when grown up he was pressed into the army and sent 
 abroad, where " his genius, which had been cramped and 
 confined to the shop-board, soon expanded and surmounted 
 the narrow prejudices which adhered to his birth and educa- 
 tion. He signalized himself as a soldier in France and Italy, 
 and particularly at Pisa." But his history is mixed up with 
 fable, and his power is reputed to have been more like that 
 of a fairy hero than of an ordinary mortal. 
 
 It matters little now, however, whether the Taylors are 
 recognized as members of a handicraft or as dealers, buying 
 and selling, — the distinction of which they were jealous in 
 olden times, — for the Company has few tailors in it. It 
 indeed repudiates with disgust the idea that members of that 
 highly useful but unaristocratic craft should be allowed a 
 place in it, says Mr. William Gilbert in his book, " The City 
 
302 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 as it is." '• Possibly," that writer adds, " the best example 
 which could be given of the objectionable features to be found 
 in many of our city guilds may be remarked in the Merchant 
 Taylors. In their records may be found specimens of the 
 most abject debasement before the powerful when the guild 
 itself was weak, and the utmost arrogance when the members 
 were rich and imagined themselves strong." This is not 
 characteristic of the Merchant Taylors alone, however, but 
 represents the attitude of the city itself in its dealings with 
 the Crown during the centuries when the kings regarded it 
 as a mint which could be levied upon as often as the royal 
 exchequer needed replenishing. 
 
 The Drapers' Hall is in Throgmorton Street, adjoining the 
 Bank of England, and is a modern building on the site of a 
 much older one. Everything is new, solid, comfortable, and 
 costly. Most interesting of the contents are the portraits, 
 among which is one of the Queen of Scots. Her little son, 
 who became James the First of England, is painted with her. 
 This picture is said to have been thrown over the wall into 
 the Drapers' garden during the Great Fire, and never claimed 
 afterwards. 
 
 Grocers' Hall is in Grocers' Hall Court, Poultry, an insig- 
 nificant street near the Bank, which was formerly called 
 Conningshop Lane, i. e. Cony Shop Lane, a name derived 
 from the sign of three conies hanging over a poulterer's shop. 
 The hall is the third edifice which the Company has had 
 upon " solde grounde sume tyme the Lord Fitzwalter's 
 Halle," and when the present building was erected, between 
 1798 and 1802, the old garden was divided into two, one 
 half being appropriated by the Bank of England, which paid 
 the Company $100,000 for it. Centuries before, the Com- 
 pany had bought this land for $150. 
 
 The Grocers were originally called Pepperers, and there is 
 no authentic account of how they acquired the former name. 
 
157 1 - Dishonest Tradesmen. 303 
 
 One writer says, " It is derived from their having dealt in 
 grossi, or figs." Ravenhill says that it was first adopted to dis- 
 tinguish the members who sold in gross quantities from infe- 
 rior traders who sold by retail. The same writer attributes 
 the early prosperity of England's foreign trade to the Grocers, 
 who were "the most universal merchants who traded abroad." 
 
 The Company was responsible for the quality of drugs and 
 all articles sold in their trade ; and the city records contain 
 many instances of the energy with which the wardens per- 
 formed the duties assigned to them. For example, in 15 71, 
 Rauf King, a brother of the Company, " and certain other 
 makers of comfytes, were charged before the wardeyns for 
 their misdemeanors in minglinge starche with sugar, and 
 such other things as not to be tolerated nor suffered. And 
 the said Rauf King having now in his place a goode quantity 
 of comfytes made with coarse stuffe and mingled, as afore- 
 said, with starche and such like," it was ordered that the 
 comfits should be put into a tub of water, and so consumed 
 and poured out, and that " evrie of said comfyte makers shall 
 be made to enter into bonds in ^20 that they shall not here- 
 after make any biscuits but with the clere sugar onlie, nor 
 make any comfytes that shall be wrought upon seeds or any 
 other thing but clere sugar onlie." 
 
 The city also required that two grocers and two ironmon- 
 gers " should stand at Bishopsgate all day to see that no one 
 passed through wearing any dress that his position did not 
 entitle him to wear." 
 
 Skinners' Hall, No. 8 Dowgate Hill, was rebuilt after the 
 fire. In the pediment of the front are the Company's arms, 
 and the frieze is ornamented with festoons and leopards' 
 heads. The drawing-room is lined with odoriferous cedar, 
 carved and enriched. The dining-room, recently rebuilt, is 
 in the Italian style, and has an Ionic gallery for musicians. 
 The election of officers of this Company is conducted in a 
 
304 Young Folks History of Lo7idou. 
 
 curious fashion, which is thus described by Mr. Herbert in 
 his " History of the City Companies : " "The principals being 
 assembled on the day of election, ten blue-coat boys with the 
 almsmen and trumpeters enter the hall. Three large silver 
 cocks or fowls, so named, are then brought in and delivered 
 to the Master and Wardens. On unscrewing these pieces ol 
 plate they are found to form drinking cups, filled with wine, 
 from which the Master and Wardens drink. Three caps ot 
 maintenance are then brought. The old Master tries on the 
 first, and finding it will not fit, gives it for trial to those next 
 to him ; failing to fit any of them, it is then given to the in- 
 tended new Master, and on its duly fitting he is announced 
 with acclamations Master elect. Like ceremonies are repeated 
 with the other caps on the Wardens." 
 
 Vintners' Hall, in Upper -Thames Street, was rebuilt after 
 the. Fire, and is one of the most interesting buildings in the 
 locality. There is in one of the antechambers a fine piece 
 of tapestry representing St. Martin of Tours, the patron 
 saint of the Company, and in the court-room above the fire- 
 place there is a painting of St. Martin Dividing his Coat with a 
 Beggar, which has been attributed to Rubens. The Company 
 possesses a magnificent salt-cellar in silver gilt by Cellini, and 
 the oak carving of the hall is unusually good. 
 
 There are a number of other halls, which we can only refer 
 to in the briefest way. 
 
 The Apothecaries' Company has a hall in Water Lane, 
 Blackfriars, and is one of the few city guilds which fulfil the 
 purpose for which it was founded, of overlooking the business 
 which it represents. The hall was built in 1670, and adjoin- 
 ing it are warehouses, laboratories, and drug-mills. The Com- 
 pany is authorized to license students, and a long black dark 
 alley is called by the latter the " funking room," because in 
 it they are kept waiting before they are ushered into the 
 presence of their examiners. 
 
1557- Gifts to the Armorers. 305 
 
 In Coleman Street is the hall of the Armorers' Company, 
 founded by Henry the Sixth as the " brothers and sisters of 
 the guild of St. George." The building is modern, but it pos- 
 sesses, says Augustus Hare, " one of the most glorious collec- 
 tions of old plate in England," including a cup given in 1557, 
 an " owl pot" given in 1537, a tankard given in 1574, 'and 
 various other articles. Armor having gone out of use, the 
 Company fell into decay, but it was revived in the reign of 
 Queen Anne by a union with the Braziers' Company, since 
 which " We are one " has been its motto. 
 
 The Barber-Surgeons' Hall in Monkwell Street, Aldersgate, 
 contains a number of historical curiosities, but its most valua- 
 ble possession is Holbein's picture of Henry the Eighth giv- 
 ing a Charter to the Company. Pepys was anxious to obtain 
 this for " a little money," and speaking of an examination of 
 it, says : " I did think to give ^200 for it, it being said to be 
 worth ;£iooo ; but it is so spoiled that I have no mind to it, 
 and it is not a pleasant, though a good, picture." A curious 
 leather screen in the court-room is said to commemorate the 
 gratitude of a man who, after being hung at Tyburn, was dis- 
 covered to be still living, and was restored by the efforts of 
 the Barber- Surgeons when his body was brought to them for 
 dissection. Hare states that such a recovery did occur in 
 the case of a youth, aged seventeen, who after having been 
 hung for twenty-two minutes, recovered just as the surgeons 
 were about to cut him up. 
 
 In a safe nook by itself, abutting on that nest of booksellers, 
 Paternoster Row, and under the shadow of St. Paul's Cathe- 
 dral, is Stationers' Hall, which hides itself, as Mr. Walter 
 Thornbury has said, with the characteristic modesty of an 
 author. For some time this Company had a monopoly of 
 learning. A man could not follow the trade of a printer un- 
 less he had served his time to a member of the Company, 
 and nearly every publication had to be "entered at the Hall," 
 
306 
 
 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 in order to secure the copyright, — a law which is still in force. 
 The Company had the exclusive right of publishing almanacs, 
 and though it no longer retains this privilege, it sends forth 
 annually thousands of copies of "Old Moore's Almanac," 
 with its nonsensical astrological tables describing the moon's 
 influence on various parts of the human body ! 
 
 GUARD CHAMBER, LAMFETH PALACE. 
 
 The pictures in the hall are full of interest to a student of 
 literature. There are portraits of Prior and Steele which 
 formerly belonged to Harley, the Earl of Oxford ; of Samuel 
 Richardson and his wife ; of Archbishop Tillotson by Knel- 
 ler, and of Bishop Hoadley, the prelate who wore the Order 
 of the Garter. 
 
 The smoky little garden at the back of the Hall was used 
 
1350. The Watermen. 2>°7 
 
 in the time of the Star Chamber for the burning of seditious 
 publications, and the Archbishop of Canterbury sent constant 
 messages to the Master and Wardens, requiring them, on 
 pain of the penalties of the Church and forfeiture of all tem- 
 poral rights, to search every house in which they suspected a 
 press to exist for the printing of unlawful matter. 
 
 From earliest times the Stationers' Company has been cele- 
 brated for its shows, and " the comeliest personages " of the 
 guild attended the Lord Mayor on horseback, in velvet 
 coats, chains of gold, and with staff-torches, to escort Queen 
 Elizabeth from Chelsea to Whitehall. The Company had 
 until recently a gilt barge, in which, on the morning of Lord 
 Mayor's Day, the members visited Lambeth Palace, when the 
 household of the Archbishop of Canterbury provided hot 
 spiced ale, buns and cakes, and wine, the last being served 
 in " sack-cups," or bowls with two handles. The almanacs 
 published by the Company were submitted to the Archbishop 
 for his approval, and the friendship between the Guild and 
 the See is said to have originated in the time of Arch- 
 bishop Tenison, one of whose relatives was Master of the 
 Company. 
 
 The hall of the Watermen's Company is at Billingsgate. 
 This guild dates from the fourteenth century, and for many 
 generations its members had a monopoly of the navigation of 
 the Thames. Then, more than at the present time, the river 
 was a highway for passengers travelling east or west through 
 the city ; what the cab, the omnibus, and the Underground 
 Railway do now in transporting the crowd from London Bridge 
 to Westminster, the waterman did with his barge and wherry, 
 and though a goodly number of passengers still choose the 
 " silent highway," and find conveyance in the uncomfortable 
 little steamers which ply between Chelsea and Gravesend, they 
 are less numerous in proportion to the population than when 
 the land vehicles were less convenient than they are now. 
 
308 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 In the time of Henry the Eighth there were forty thousand 
 watermen on the Thames between Windsor and Gravesend, 
 and we learn that their boats were " dangerously shallow and 
 tickle." They were conscious of the power of their guild, 
 these old watermen, and were rank monopolists, opposing 
 every change or improvement which threatened to reduce 
 their profits, though a public benefit was to be accomplished 
 thereby. They were greatly dissatisfied with the introduction 
 of coaches, and condemned the building of bridges across the 
 river, not because they did not recognize that coaches and 
 bridges were useful things, but simply because such additions 
 to the conveniences of the city would curtail their earnings. 
 
 They had a vigorous champion in old Taylor, the water 
 poet. He tells us that 
 
 " When Queen Elizabeth came to the crown, 
 A coach in England then was scarcely known," 
 
 and in a prose tract he complains bitterly of the innovation 
 which would take the traffic from the river to the streets. 
 " I do not inveigh against any coaches that belong to persons 
 of worth or quality," he quaintly writes, " but only against the 
 caterpillar swarm of hirelings. They have undone my poor 
 trade whereof I am a member ; and though I look for no re- 
 formation, yet I expect the benefit of an old proverb, ' Give 
 the losers leave to speak.'" He adds that the swarm of 
 " trade-spillers," the contemptuous name he applies to 
 coaches, have "so overrun the land, that we can get no 
 living on the water, for I dare truly affirm, that every day in 
 every term, especially if the Court be at Whitehall, they do 
 rob us of our livings, and carry five hundred sixty fares daily 
 from us." He contrasts the quietness of the stream with the 
 noise of the street. " I pray you look into the streets, and 
 the chambers or lodgings in Fleet Street or the Strand, how 
 they are pestered with coaches, especially after a mask or 
 
1580-1654- John Taylor, the Water Poet. 309 
 
 a play at the Court, where even the very earth quakes and 
 trembles, the casements clatter, tatter, and shatter, and such a 
 confused noise is made, so that a man can neither sleep, 
 speak, hear, write, nor eat his dinner or supper quiet for them." 
 What would John Taylor think of the noise of the Strand, 
 could he visit it to-day, when its thousands of cabs and om- 
 nibuses fill the ear with the sounds of unceasing volleys of 
 musketry — how degenerate he would consider the age ! 
 
 Taylor was himself a waterman working for his daily bread ; 
 but his works, which are published in a folio of six or seven 
 hundred pages, have a great deal of vigor. He varied his 
 toil with long journeys to distant parts of the country in a 
 small boat, as a modern canoeist might do, and he took no 
 little pride in his occupation. 
 
 " I have a trade, much like an alchemist, 
 That ofttimes by extraction, if I list, 
 With sweating labors at a wooden oar 
 I '11 get the coin'd, refined, silver ore ; 
 Which I count better than the sharping tricks 
 Of cozening tradesmen or rich politicks, 
 Or any proud fool, ne'er so proud or wise, 
 That does my needful, honest trade despise." 
 
 The river was very different from what, it is now when the 
 watermen flourished. It was more of a common highway 
 than the streets were, and no pageant was celebrated that did 
 not appear on it. It was, says Knight, especially the royal 
 road. When Henry the Seventh willed the coronation of his 
 Queen Elizabeth, she came from Greenwich attended by 
 barges "freshly furnished with banners and streamers of silk," 
 and when Henry the Eighth was married to Anne Boleyn she 
 was brought by all the crafts of London from Greenwich to the 
 Tower, " trumpets, shawms, and other divers instruments all the 
 way playing and making great melody." A volume of the 
 "Purse Expenses of Henry VIII." contains item upon item of 
 sums paid to watermen for waiting with barge and boat. The 
 
3io 
 
 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 barge was evidently always in attendance upon the King ; and 
 the great boat was ever busy moving household stuff and ser- 
 vants from Westminster to Greenwich or Richmond. There 
 is also a record of payment to " John, the King's Bargeman, 
 for coming twice from Greenwich to York Place with a great 
 boat with books for the King." 
 
 " In the time of Elizabeth and the first James and on- 
 ward to very recent days, the north bank of the Thames was 
 studded with the palaces of the nobles, and each palace had 
 
 SALISBURY AND WORCESTER HOUSE. 
 
 its landing-place, and its private retinue of barges and wher- 
 ries ; and many a freight of the brave and the beautiful has 
 been borne, amid song and merriment, from house to house 
 to join the masque and the dance ; and many a wily statesman, 
 muffled in his cloak, has glided along unseen in his boat, to 
 some dark conference with his ambitious neighbor. Nothing 
 could then have been more picturesque than the Strand with 
 its broad gardens and lofty trees and embattled turrets and 
 pinnacles. Upon the river itself, busy as it was, fleets of 
 swans were sailing, and they ventured unmolested into that 
 
17 1 5- Doggett s Coat and Badge. 311 
 
 channel which is now narrowed by vessels from every 
 region." 
 
 The river was full of fish, moreover, even salmon, and when 
 the waterman was tired of waiting for his fare he could push 
 into the stream and find good sport with drag-net or rod and 
 line. It was a glorious craft this to which he belonged, lucra- 
 tive, pleasant to exercise, and not without honors, — for a cer- 
 tain number of them were enrolled in the Royal Navy. They 
 formed a caste by themselves, and recognized their kinship 
 with one another by being buried together when they died. 
 
 Their manners were extremely saucy, and they had a phra- 
 seology of their own, which has been called " the water dialect 
 or mob language." It will be remembered that Sir Roger de 
 Coverley was shocked by the language with which they greeted 
 him, and when Dr. Johnson was assailed by their abuse he 
 replied to them with an equal vigor. 
 
 One of the most interesting events at the present time in 
 connection with the watermen is the race on the first of 
 August, every year, to compete for a coat and badge be- 
 queathed by Thomas Doggett, the comedian, to commemo- 
 rate the accession of the House of Brunswick. "This scene," 
 a genial writer has said, " is sure to be picturesque and cheer- 
 ful should it be lit up by the glorious sun that t gems the sea 
 and every land that blooms.' In 1715, the year after George 
 the First came to the throne, Doggett, to quicken the indus- 
 try and raise a laudable emulation in our young men of the 
 Thames, whereby they may not only acquire a knowledge of 
 the river but a skill in managing the oar with dexterity, gave 
 an orange-colored coat and a silver badge, on which was 
 sculptured the Hanoverian house, to the successful candidate 
 of six young watermen just out of their apprenticeship, to be 
 rowed for on the first of August, when the current was strong- 
 est against them, starting from the ' Old Swan,' London 
 Bridge, to the 'Swan' at Chelsea." 
 
312 Young Folks' History of Loudon. 
 
 This competition is annual, and other prizes are added to 
 the coat and badge. But the glory of the craft is departed, 
 and the watermen of to-day are deck-hands and pilots of the 
 sooty little steamers which ply up and down for the accom- 
 modation of penny passengers. 
 
 Close to Watermen's Hall is the Fellowship Porters' Hall, 
 belonging to the guild of that name which was incorporated 
 as early as 1 155. The business of the fellowship porters is to 
 carry and warehouse corn, salt, coals, fish, and fruit, and they 
 number about fifteen hundred. In accordance with an old 
 custom, every Sunday before midsummer's day a sermon is 
 preached to them in the church of St. Mary-at-Hill. They 
 proceed from the hall, two by two, carrying nosegays and 
 walking up the middle aisle to the communion table, where 
 each of them places an offering for the relief of the poor. 
 After prayers, the merchants of the neighborhood, who have 
 been provided with nosegays by the porters on the previous 
 night, repeat the observance by also walking up to the altar 
 with their wives, servants, and children, and placing a gift on 
 the plate. 
 
 Carpenters' Hall, which survived the Great Fire, is in Lon- 
 don Wall, but it is not especially interesting. This Company, 
 however, continues the curious custom of crowning the new 
 masters and wardens when they are elected, and the garlands 
 used for the purpose are more than three centuries old. 
 
 We have already mentioned Drapers' Hall and its contents, 
 but a word may be said about the dress or livery of this Com- 
 pany, which seems to have been more varied than that of any 
 other. The celebrations also were many and curious. Annu- 
 ally at Lady Day all the members, dressed in new livery, went 
 to Bow Church and there heard the Lady Mass, each con- 
 tributing a silver penny to the altar-plate. This is not the 
 church whose bells are said to have inspired Dick Whitting- 
 ton, but St. Michael's, Cornhill. The former is St. Mary-le- 
 
The Drapers Banquets. 313 
 
 Bow, Cheapside. At evensong the members again attended 
 the church and heard dirges chanted for deceased members. 
 On the following day, with continued devotion, they came 
 and heard the mass of the Requiem, and offered another sil- 
 ver penny. On the day of the feast they walked two and two 
 in livery to the dining place, where there was a banquet of 
 fowls, swan, geese, pike, venison, conies, pigeons, tarts, pears, 
 and filberts. At the side-tables ale and claret were served in 
 pots and wooden cups, and better wine in gilt cups. After 
 dinner the retiring master rose and went into the parlor, with 
 a garland on his head and his cap-bearer before him. He 
 then chose the master for the following year, the choice hav- 
 ing been pre-arranged ; and in a similar manner the old war- 
 dens chose the new ones, offering a garland to several persons, 
 one among whom accepted it according to a preconcerted 
 plan. The business being over, dessert was served in the 
 lavish manner which characterizes all the civic feasts. 
 
 From the list of articles consumed we gather that the appe- 
 tites were wonderfully good when the livery companies saw 
 their palmiest days. The feasting seems to have been intro- 
 duced on all possible occasions, and even the funerals, 
 according to old English custom, ended with a dinner. 
 Spiced bread, fruit, and ale were served either at the church 
 or at a neighboring tavern, and on one occasion a silver spoon 
 was given to each of the pall-bearers. 
 
 The Drapers' ordinances, says Mr. Thornbury, to whom we 
 are in the main indebted for this account, were of great inter- 
 est. The apprentices, on being enrolled, paid fees, which 
 went to a fund called ;< spoon silver," and when they misbe- 
 haved themselves they were severely punished. Thus one of 
 them, named Needswell, was taken into the hall parlor on a 
 certain day and flogged by two tall men, disguised in canvas 
 frocks, hoods, and visors, two pennyworth of birchen rods 
 being expended in his improvement. 
 
314 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 The Clothvvorkers' Company is an offshoot of the Mer- 
 chant Taylors', and was incorporated by Edward the Fourth as 
 the " Fraternity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary 
 of the Shearsmen of London." The title of shearsmen had no 
 reference to the cutting of wool from the sheep, but applied 
 to the manner of clipping the nap of the cloth. The Cloth- 
 workers had several subdivisions, and among the others were 
 the Fullers, the Burrelers, and the Testers. Pepys himself was 
 a member of this Company, which was incorporated in the 
 time of Elizabeth, and left it a valuable loving-cup, which still 
 shines on the table when great dinners are given. The guild 
 was indeed a most distinguished one, and two centuries ago 
 it was referred to as follows : — 
 
 " The grandeur of England is to be attributed to its golden 
 fleece, the wealth of the loom making England a second Peru, 
 and the back of the sheep, and not the entrails of the earth, 
 being its chief mine of riches. The silkworm is no spinster 
 of ours, and our wheel and web are wholly the clothworkers. 
 Thus as trade is the soul of the kingdom, so the greatest 
 branch of it lies in the clothworkers' hands ; and though our 
 naval commerce brings us in both the or and the argent, and 
 indeed the whole wealth of the world, yet, when thoroughly 
 examined, it will be found 't is your cloth sends out to fetch 
 them. And thus, whilst the Imperial Britannia is so formi- 
 dable to her foes and so potent to her friends, to the Cloth- 
 workers' honor it may justly be said, ' 'T is your shuttle nerves 
 her arm, and your woof that enrobes her glory.' " 
 
 " Wilt thou make me free of the Clothworkers ? " said 
 James the First to Sir William Stone, the master of the Com- 
 pany. " Yea," quoth the latter, "and think myself a happy 
 man that I live to see this day." Then the King said : " Stone, 
 give me thy hand, and now I am a Cloth worker." 
 
 The original hall was burned in the Great Fire, and was a 
 mass of flame for three days and nights. The present hall is 
 
1883. Illustrious Members. 3 1 5 
 
 very fine, and among the decorations is a picture of yjung 
 Edward Osborne, the ancestor of the Duke of Leeds, who, 
 when an apprentice, jumped from London Bridge to save his 
 master's daughter. 
 
 Here we must close, leaving undescribed a number of 
 other halls which will repay the visit of any one interested in 
 the city's antiquities. Sooner or later the guilds will all be 
 abolished. But at present they are making a stubborn re- 
 sistance to the radical spirit which would dissolve them. 
 They have many friends among the rich and great, and it 
 has been the custom from the beginning for kings, princes, 
 and statesmen of the realm to be honorary members of 
 them. 
 
 The Prince of Wales is an honorary Fishmonger and an 
 honorary Haberdasher ; the Duke of Edinburgh, the Duke of 
 Connaught, the Duke of Cambridge are also honorary mem- 
 bers of Fishmongers' Hall. Sir Stafford Northcote is an hon- 
 orary Goldsmith, and Lord Beaconsfield was an honorary 
 Merchant Taylor. The guilds choose influential men to 
 receive their honors, and their hospitality, also, is showered 
 upon those who can appreciate it. 
 
"London is the place for me. Its smoky atmosphere and muddy 
 river charm me more than the pure air of Hertfordshire and the 
 crystal currents of the Rib. Nothing is equal to the splendid varieties 
 of London life, the fine flow of London talk, and the dazzling brilliance 
 of London spectacles." 
 
 Macaulay. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE BANK OF ENGLAND. 
 
 If the visitor minds not delays and has no urgent business 
 to make him fret against the encumbered streets, it is a pleas- 
 ant walk from the Tower up through Eastcheap to the Bank 
 of England. The Boar's Head has vanished from Eastcheap, 
 but the imperishable memory of that famous tavern, where 
 Prince Hal, Jack Falstaff,and their companions met, will draw 
 reverential pilgrims to it as long as Shakespeare is read. 
 
 " That ancient region of wit and wassail," Irving calls it, 
 "for it was always famous for its convivial doings. 'The cookes 
 cried hot ribbes of beef roasted, pies well baked, and other 
 victuals ; there was clattering of pewter pots, harpe, pipe, 
 and sawtrie.' Alas ! " adds Irving, " how sadly is the scene 
 changed since the roaring days of Falstaff and old Stow ! 
 The madcap roisterer has given place to the plodding 
 tradesman ; the clattering of pots and the sound of ' harpe 
 and sawtrie ' to the din of carts and the accursed dinging of 
 the dustman's bell ; and no song is heard save, haply, the 
 strain of some siren of Billingsgate chanting the eulogy of 
 deceased mackerel."' 
 
 Even the sign which was built into the parting line of two 
 houses which stood on the site of the renowned old tavern is 
 gone ; but, for all that, no one whose nature is tender enough 
 to feel the charm of historic association will turn away from 
 Eastcheap, or think of it without recalling Jack Falstaff. 
 
 Eastcheap empties into King William Street, and thence it 
 is a straight line up to a nearly triangular space, on the three 
 
3 1 8 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 sides of which the civic power of London and the deities of 
 riches and commerce are enthroned. On the south side is 
 the Corinthian portico, with its six fluted columns, of the 
 Mansion House ; opposite to this is the portico of the Royal 
 Exchange, — a more beautiful building, with columns forty 
 feet high and a sculptured frieze and architrave ; and on the 
 third side is the Corinthian temple — " incombustible, insu- 
 lated, one-storied, and without external windows" — of the 
 Bank of England, or, as the greatest monetary institution of 
 the world is sometimes called, " The Old Lady of Thread- 
 needle Street," — a name given to it by one of the legions of 
 pamphleteers who flourished when there were no daily papers 
 for the airing of every grievance. 
 
 The " old lady " is a most reticent person, of old-maidish 
 habits, who cares little for any visitors, and who insists that 
 those she receives shall be vouched for on unquestionable 
 authority and introduced with every formality. 
 
 A shilling will take one all the way up to the cross on 
 the dome of St. Paul's, and into the strong room of the 
 Tower, wherein the regalia are stored, crown upon crown and 
 sceptre against sceptre ; with so small a coin one can unlock 
 the doors of all the chapels in Westminster Abbey or de- 
 scend into the crypt of the before-mentioned Cathedral ; but 
 the privilege of visiting the " old lady" is unpurchasable, and 
 her servants cannot be bribed to show any of her possessions 
 without her authority. 
 
 The usual course Is to procure an introduction from one 
 of the directors, and, fortified with this, the visitor is treated 
 with a great deal of civility, though he is expected to listen, 
 not to inquire ; to look at what is shown to him, not to ex- 
 plore what lies beyond ; and, like a discreet guest, not to ask 
 for more than is offered to him. He will be shown through 
 the lofty offices, where very gentlemanly clerks are shovelling 
 out and weighing the tinkling, yellow sovereigns ; poring over 
 
1883. Printing Bank-Notes. 321 
 
 ledgers and day-books and running their fingers over the 
 crisp notes ; he will see portraits of former governors and 
 cashiers of the bank, sagacious-looking gentlemen, with noth- 
 ing in their complexion or figure to indicate that they 
 neglected the opportunities for enjoyment which their wealth 
 afforded ; and he will be admitted into the printing-office, 
 where bank-notes are being printed as if they were farthing 
 ballads. 
 
 Watching the easy motion of the delicate machinery as it 
 transforms the blank paper into the precious legal tender, and 
 heaps up thousands, tens of thousands, and hundreds of thou- 
 sands of pounds, he may think, if he is ignorant of the laws 
 of finance, that the production of money is a very simple 
 affair, and that it can be carried on indefinitely. The ca- 
 pacity of the press to produce notes is only limited by its own 
 speed ; but it is a great mistake to suppose that ^10, ^20, or 
 ^"100 is produced every time a £10, ^20, or ^100 note is 
 printed. The notes are no more money than are so many 
 slips of curl-paper, unless there is gold or other security to 
 the full value which they bear on their face in the vaults of 
 the bank ; and it is because the Bank of England always 
 practically has in its cellars enough gold to redeem all its 
 notes on demand that it is so stable. It loses the profits 
 which this gold would probably yield if it were invested in 
 commercial channels, but it absolutely secures the value of 
 the notes. 
 
 The visitor is taken into the cellars where the gold is piled 
 up in ingots, guarded by prison-like gratings and doors, and 
 he is ushered into that treasure-house where the notes them- 
 selves, in commonplace-looking packages, are held for issue. 
 A package of them is even put into his hands by the pleasant 
 gentleman who has charge of this department, — a light, tri- 
 fling, inconsiderable package, which contains enough ^20 
 notes to make jQ 1 ,000,000, or $5,000,000 ; and a great vista of 
 
322 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 possibilities opens with a flash upon his mind when the custo- 
 dian, with studied unconcern, reveals the value of what for a 
 dreamy moment he holds in his hands. 
 
 From the cellar he is conducted into the rooms where the 
 cancelled notes are stored away and the coins are weighed. 
 No note which comes back to the bank is ever reissued ; it 
 may have been out five minutes, and it may have been out a 
 century, but in either case it is immediately cancelled ; a cor- 
 ner of it is torn off ; its date and number are recorded, and 
 it is filed away in a safe for ten years ; it can be referred to 
 in an instant should there be occasion to do so for any 
 purpose during this time, but at the end of ten years it is 
 destroyed. 
 
 All coins brought to the bank, whether new or old, 
 are weighed before they are again put into currency, and 
 those deficient are defaced. The weighing machine is self- 
 acting, and it automatically separates the light coin from the 
 others after weighing them. 
 
 " Imagine," says an English writer, describing the appara- 
 tus, " imagine a long trough or spout — half a tube that has 
 been split into two sections — of such a semi-circumference 
 as holds sovereigns edgeways, and of sufficient length to allow 
 two hundred of them to rest in that position, one against an- 
 other. The trough, thus charged, is fixed slopingly upon the 
 machine over a little table as big as the plate of an ordinary 
 sovereign balance. The coin nearest to the Liliputian plat- 
 form drops upon it, being pushed forward by the weight of 
 those behind. Its own weight presses the table down ; but 
 how far down ? Upon that hangs the whole merit and dis- 
 criminating power of the machine. At the back and at each 
 side of this small table two little hammers move by steam 
 backward and forward at different elevations. If the sover- 
 eign be full weight, down sinks the table too low for the 
 higher hammer to hit ; but the lower one strikes the edge, and 
 
1883. Sovereigns of Light Weight. 325 
 
 off the sovereign tumbles into a receiver to the left. The 
 table pops up again, receiving, perhaps, a light sovereign, and 
 the higher hammer, having always first strike, knocks it into 
 a receiver to the right, time enough to escape its colleague, 
 which, when it comes forward, has nothing to hit, and returns 
 to allow the table to be elevated again. In this way the rep- 
 utation of thirty-three sovereigns is established or destroyed 
 every minute. The light weights are taken to a clipping 
 machine, slit at the rate of two hundred a minute, weighed 
 in a lump (the deficiency being charged to the banker from 
 whom they were received), and sent to the mint to be re- 
 coined." 
 
 If a light sovereign is presented at the bank, it is slit, 
 whether the person to whom it belongs consents or not ; 
 and though he may demand its return, it is not given to him 
 until an ugly gash has been made in it to indicate its defi- 
 ciency. 
 
 The buildings of the bank are just what one would imagine 
 them to be without having seen them. They are solid, clean, 
 and simple. The frescos and variegated marbles of modern 
 business palaces, the bronze balustrades, the acres of plate- 
 glass, the whirring bells with electric communication high and 
 low, and the sumptuous upholstery of modern offices, — who 
 would expect to find them in the Bank of England? No ; 
 the " Old Lady of Threadneedle Street " is not a la mode; 
 the frippery of the day would not become her, and the furni- 
 niture of her house, like the house itself, is substantial and 
 useful. The decorum of the servants, too, is beyond re- 
 proach ; the gentlemen to whom the visitor is introduced, 
 whether they are mere record clerks filing away the cancelled 
 notes, or printers at the wonderful press upon which the new 
 notes are produced, or secretaries, or governors, are courtly 
 in their civilities, and even the porters, who stand at the en- 
 trances with silk hats and silver-buttoned coats of brilliant 
 
326 You Jig Folks' History of London. 
 
 colors, have the air of belonging to a very superior establish- 
 ment. 
 
 Though there is little external display, the business is con- 
 ducted on a splendid scale ; over one thousand persons are 
 employed, and the pay-roll amounts to more than $2,000,000 
 annually. A quarter of a million sovereigns are often han- 
 dled in the course of a single day, and the entire business in 
 that time occasionally amounts to more than ^2,500,000, 
 or $15, 500,000. 
 
 The bank is not, like the halls of the city companies, a 
 " shrine of gluttony ; " but in the basement, where the ingots 
 held as security for the notes are hoarded, there is a kitchen 
 and a small cellar of wines for the officer in command of the 
 company of soldiers which garrisons the treasure during the 
 night. 
 
 Let us now look at the circumstances which led to the 
 origin of the bank, and briefly review its history. 
 
 Banking, as the science which it is in modern times, was 
 not known during the Middle Ages. The Jews and Lombards 
 loaned money in London and carried on certain branches of 
 the banking business, but the merchants who had surplus 
 cash did not know what to do with it for safety. They could 
 keep it in their strong-boxes, or deposit it in the mint, but 
 they could not put it where it would at once be safe and 
 profitable. 
 
 The mint itself proved to be risky. Charles I. thievishly 
 took possession of ^200,000 which the citizens had depos- 
 ited there, and called it a loan. After that no more money 
 found its way into the mint for the sake of security. 
 
 Not knowing where to hide their cash, the merchants then 
 intrusted it, distributed in small portions, to their clerks and 
 apprentices, and the latter frequently ran away with it. A 
 new and safer mode of giving money in trust became indis- 
 pensable, and the goldsmiths now received the confidence of 
 
i694- The Founder of the Bank. 327 
 
 the merchants. They accepted money on deposit, allowing 
 interest upon it, and they also received the rents of gentle- 
 men's estates which were remitted to town. So profitable 
 was the business, that some of the goldsmiths gave up their 
 original trade and became solely bankers, — among the first 
 to do this being Francis Child, whose famous bank still exists 
 near where Temple Bar until lately stood. 
 
 The goldsmiths proved themselves worthy of the confi- 
 dence placed in them; but in 1694 William Paterson, a 
 Scotchman, came forward with a project to establish a na- 
 tional bank, and he became father of the " Old Lady of 
 Threadneedle Street." 
 
 Though possessing great financial ability, he did not enrich 
 himself, and his life, unlike that of most men of a similar 
 bent, was a wandering and adventurous one. Many curious 
 stories are told of him. One is that he went to the West 
 Indies as a missionary, and abandoned that peaceful vocation 
 for the career of a buccaneer. Another relates that, having 
 lost his paternal fortune, he wandered from place to place 
 with a pedler's wallet. At all events, it is known that he trav- 
 elled while young, and visited nearly all the countries in 
 Europe, as well as the West Indies and parts of this conti- 
 nent. When he returned to England he had a plan for a 
 national bank similar to the Bank of Venice, and something 
 of the kind was so necessary that his proposition was received 
 with general approbation. The Government wanted money, 
 and, in consideration of a loan of ^"1,200,000, it granted a 
 charter to the new bank, and guaranteed eight per cent inter- 
 est on the sum advanced and ^£4,000 a year for the expenses 
 of management. The whole of the necessary capital was sub- 
 scribed within ten days, and the success of the bank was 
 immediate. 
 
 It has once or twice been in danger ; it has often excited 
 the animosity of other banks, to which it has refused help 
 
328 Young Folks History of Loudon. 
 
 when its assistance would have averted disaster ; but, on the 
 whole, its existence has been a national benefit. It has re- 
 stored a vitiated coinage to a standard value, and substituted 
 its own notes for those of numberless small and more or less 
 irresponsible concerns ; its policy has always been cautious, 
 and it has maintained the intimate relations with the Govern- 
 ment which it established when it was founded. It is tne 
 banker of the Imperial Government, and as such receives 
 taxes, and pays the interest on the national debt, etc., for 
 which services it is paid ^340 for each ^1,000,000 of busi- 
 ness transacted. 
 
 Paterson did not participate in the success of the institu- 
 tion which he founded. Almost within a year he withdrew 
 from it, or, as it is said, " the friendless Scot was intrigued 
 out of his post and out of his honors." But he was still full 
 of schemes for the development of commerce and the colo- 
 nization of foreign countries. He seems, indeed, to have 
 been impelled by that spirit of restlessness which is usually 
 fatal to enduring success, and though it is said that he was 
 unfairly used by his associates, it seems likely that, even if he 
 was imposed upon, his imaginative temperament and roving 
 inclinations contributed to the failure of his life. 
 
 After retiring from the bank, he entered upon a still larger 
 enterprise, the purpose of which was to form " a free com- 
 monwealth in Darien." He succeeded so far as to form a 
 company of merchant adventurers, under the title of " The 
 Company of Scotland Trading to Africa and the Indies," and 
 his intention was to establish a British colony stretching over 
 the whole Isthmus of Panama, which colony, he believed, 
 would become a chief station in the great highway of the 
 world, forming an emporium where the commerce of the 
 East would meet that of the West. 
 
 " The plan," says Mr. Frederick Martin, " great and noble 
 in its conception, was by no means impracticable, and had 
 
1690. The Darien Expedition. 329 
 
 it been fully carried out according to the intentions of the 
 projector, might have had incalculable consequences for 
 commerce and civilization." 
 
 On July 26, 1690, " twelve hundred men sailed in five 
 stout ships " from the harbor of Leith. But the expedition 
 failed to accomplish its purpose ; the Government was opposed 
 to it ; dissensions broke out among the leaders ; sickness re- 
 duced the men ; and only a few survived the fevers of the isth- 
 mus. Among those who returned was Paterson himself, and 
 though he was ruined and his dearest hopes had been frus- 
 trated, he was not daunted, and continued to struggle in the 
 development of new plans for extending British trade. The 
 Scottish Parliament recommended that a pension should be 
 given to him, but he never got it. He spent the closing 
 years of his life in London, and he died in January, 17 19. 
 
 The bank, with its governmental patronage and enormous 
 resources, had little to fear from rivals. It was secure when 
 its competitors were in peril, and it avoided calamity through 
 the caution of its managers, rather than escaped it through 
 any unusual stroke of good luck. The advisers of " The 
 Old Lady of 'Threadneedle Street " were far-seeing and 
 prudent, and shunned the glittering bait which Jed others 
 into ruinous speculations. But on several occasions all their 
 precautions were unavailing, and disaster stared them in the 
 face ; it confronted them and shook their nerves ; but, after 
 a momentary shock, they recovered their presence of mind 
 and drove the spectre off. 
 
 On one occasion they defeated a "run" on the bank by 
 employing agents to present notes for payment and to de- 
 mand the whole amount in sixpences. The cashiers were so 
 long in counting these small coins that the persons who 
 wished to withdraw large sums were prevented from present- 
 ing their accounts, and, by delaying them, the bank was 
 enabled to prepare for them. 
 
330 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 On another occasion the Government came to the rescue, 
 and, to relieve the bank of a pressure which it could not 
 stand, passed a summary law prohibiting it from paying cash 
 except for sums under twenty shillings. People might pre- 
 sent their demands for larger sums, but the cashiers could 
 only shake their heads and say that they would be most will- 
 ing, but for the order of the Privy Council. 
 
 On another occasion it was obliged to suspend, and at an- 
 other time, though it was solvent, its notes were at a large 
 discount. It had a powerful friend in the Government when- 
 ever it was in distress ; but it received little help from other 
 banks, to which it vouchsafed small comfort when they were 
 embarrassed. 
 
 It is said that, in the early part of the last century, the 
 Bank of England deliberately sought to injure Childs' Bank, 
 of which it was jealous, — a story which does not seem very 
 probable. It was the custom of bankers to deliver, in ex- 
 change for money deposited, a receipt which might be 
 circulated like a modern check. The Bank of England 
 secretly collected a very large number of receipts belonging 
 to Childs' Bank, with the hope that, if they were all suddenly 
 presented, the latter would be unable to cash them ; but in 
 this the conspirators were outwitted. The proprietors of 
 Childs' Bank learned of the plot in time, and went for help 
 to the celebrated Duchess of Marlborough, who gave them a 
 single check for ^700,000 on their opponents. When the 
 messenger of the Bank of England arrived with the receipts, 
 the people representing Childs' received them without ex- 
 pressing any surprise, and, after counting them, redeemed 
 them in Bank of England notes, and, as these were at a dis- 
 count, a large profit was made by the transaction. The 
 amount involved was between ^500,000 and ,£600,000. 
 
 Childs' Bank and Hoares' Bank survive with honor 
 
THOMAS SUTTON- 
 
1 702 A Runaway MatcJi. 333 
 
 «»» 
 
 unstained on the same sites where they prospered two 
 centuries ago. 
 
 The sign of Hoares' was a golden bottle, which hung over 
 the door until a few years ago, when a new building sup- 
 planted the old one ; and it is said that the golden bottle 
 contained a leather bottle, which Hoare brought with him to 
 London when he came seeking his fortune with half-a-crown 
 in his pocket. The sign of Childs' was a marigold, and it is 
 preserved in the existing building, and blossoms luxuriously 
 in a design of the bank-checks. 
 
 Francis Child was an industrious apprentice, who married 
 the daughter of his master, and in due time succeeded to his 
 estate and business. Year by year the wealth of Childs' Bank 
 increased, and in the reign of Charles II., the King himself, 
 Prince Rupert, Nell Gwynne, and Pepys were among the 
 depositors. Francis became sheriff of London, then lord 
 mayor, then a member of Parliament, and, finally, knighthood 
 was conferred upon him. He was called the father of bank- 
 ing, and died in 1702. 
 
 A romantic incident, which forms part of the history of the 
 bank, is related by Mr. Edward Walford in his " Londoni- 
 ana." The grandson of Francis Child lived with one daugh- 
 ter in a great house in Berkeley Square. This young lady 
 was very pretty, and when she was eighteen years of age it 
 was her father's ambition that she should marry a person of 
 no less rank than a duke. One afternoon the young Earl of 
 Westmoreland, a customer of the bank, dined quietly with 
 Mr. Child in the back parlor, under the sign of the " Mari- 
 gold," and when the dinner was over he turned to the old 
 banker and said : " Mr. Child, I wish for your candid opin- 
 ion on the following case : Suppose you were in love with a 
 young lady and her father refused his consent to her mar- 
 riage with you, what would you do? " 
 
334 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 " Why, I should run away with her, of course," indiscreetly 
 replied Mr. Child, warmed, no doubt, by his wine, and little 
 suspecting that his own daughter was concerned. 
 
 Now that young lady, Mistress Sarah Child, had met Lord 
 Westmoreland once or twice in society, and an immediate 
 attachment had sprung up between them. It is evident from 
 the rest of the story that there must also have been an explicit 
 understanding between them when the Earl dined with 
 her father. A few nights afterward, while the banker was 
 dozing in his arm-chair after dinner, a post-chaise and four 
 drew up under the shadow of the trees which had then been 
 newly planted in Berkeley Square. At a given signal a young 
 lady stepped out of the house and into the carriage which 
 had been brought for her by her lover. The post-boys 
 drove off as fast as the four horses could carry them, along 
 the northern road which led toward Scotland, and they had 
 a long start before Mr. Child discovered that his daughter 
 had flown. Nevertheless, he at once ordered a coach, and 
 in the good old-fashioned way set off in pursuit of the runa- 
 ways. So great was his speed, that, just as they were on the 
 Dumfriesshire border, and only a short distance from Gretna 
 Green, he overtook them, or rather he would have done so if 
 Lord Westmoreland had not shot the leader of the banker's 
 vehicle. This bold measure gave the pursued couple time to 
 cross the border, where the accommodating blacksmith was in 
 readiness, with the prayer-book open, and they were married 
 at once. 
 
 A marriage thus performed in Scotland by a layman, even 
 a blacksmith, was as valid as if performed by the Archbishop 
 of Canterbury. 
 
 Mr. Child would not forgive his undutiful daughter, and 
 never recovered from the shock her rebellion gave him ; 
 but he lived long enough to witness the birth of a grand- 
 
1883. Noble Bankers, 335 
 
 daughter, to whom he left his great wealth. On reaching 
 womanhood she married the Earl of Jersey, to whom she 
 brought as a dowry her partnership in Childs' Bank ; and the 
 descendants of that nobleman have ever since carried on the 
 business and borne the name of the old banker in addition 
 to that of their own family, the Villiers. 
 
" My home is the city; to and fro 
 
 I wander o'er it from day to day, 
 
 Hearing its myriad pulses play, 
 Watching its life-waves ebb and flow ; 
 Little I see and little I know 
 
 Of rustling woods or flowery fields ; 
 
 On the sights and sounds that the city yields ; 
 My heart and my fancy feed and grow. 
 
 'Out from my casement, narrow and high, 
 When the summer morn in the east is low, 
 Over the long streets, row on row, 
 
 I love to look with a dreaming eye ; 
 
 While half of them still in black shadow lie, 
 And half of them shine like burnished gold, 
 And only the wreathing smoke outrolled 
 
 From the giant chimneys streaks the sky. 
 
 ; Often again I look out on the street 
 
 When the glittering lamps are all alight, 
 Gemming the skirts of the dark-robed night, 
 When the only sounds that my hearing greet 
 Are mysterious murmurs the sense that cheat, 
 Or the wakeful watchman's heavy footfall 
 Echoing up from the hollow wall, 
 As he wearily paces his lonely beat. 
 
 Oh, poets may sing of streams that flow, 
 
 Braiding their ripples in the sun, 
 
 Of shadowy wood and moorland dun, 
 Of scented brakes where wild-flowers blow; 
 Little of these I see or know ; 
 
 My home is the city, and, clay or night, 
 
 On its sights and sounds, with a strange delight, 
 My heart and my fancy feed and grow." 
 
 Chambers's Journal 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 
 
 In the shape of a wedge fitting into the triangular space 
 formed by the Mansion House and the Bank is the Royal 
 Exchange : the triangular space itself is the focal point of 
 nearly all the wheeled traffic of London, of nearly all the 
 cabs and omnibuses which connect the ancient city with 
 its numerous suburbs. Here are green omnibuses from 
 Streatham, red omnibuses from Kew and Richmond, white 
 omnibuses from Putney, chocolate omnibuses from Westmin- 
 ster, yellow omnibuses from Cambervvell, and sage-colored 
 omnibuses from Kilburn, — various lines of varied colors, which 
 take the toilers to and from this noisy place of money-getting 
 and make it their terminus. 
 
 They can only move slowly, for the street is occupied from 
 curb to curb, and the omnibuses are seemingly inextricably 
 entangled with four-wheel cabs, two-wheel cabs, "shandries" 
 from the shops in Cheapside, and heavy drays from the neigh- 
 borhood of Great Tower Street and St. Katharine's Docks. 
 A pedestrian has no chance of crossing unless he is alert and 
 courageous, darting here and there as in some athletic game. 
 The timid ones are forced to stand irresolute and dismayed 
 until a helmeted policeman comes to their aid. Few, how- 
 ever, thus dally or look bewildered, and most of the persons 
 in this hurrying crowd are so quick in movement and so 
 skilful in dodging in and out among the moving obstructions, 
 that any one watching them feels inclined to applaud them. 
 
 23 
 
338 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 Their brisk pace shows that they have a purpose, and even 
 the office-boys, with shining sleeves, have a look of sagacity 
 and shrewdness. When the frock-coated, silk-hatted men 
 salute one another it is with a thriftiness of speech and a sharp 
 decisiveness, it is evident that they have no moment to lose, 
 and that they are all under high pressure. 
 
 We are indeed at the very centre, not of London, but of 
 the entire commercial world, and the movements of this 
 throng will be recorded by telegraph in every corner of the 
 earth. Yonder is the store-house of the world's gold, and 
 here, behind this handsome portico with its noble pillars and 
 sculptured architrave, is the market-place where the produce 
 of the world is bought and sold in quantities whose vastness 
 is scarcely comprehensible. 
 
 For many centuries this has been the point where the 
 merchants of London have congregated in the greatest num- 
 bers. In Shakespeare's time you might have seen here, in- 
 stead of the urgent gentlemen in frock-coats and silk hats, 
 a picturesque crowd in many kinds of costume. English was 
 not so common a tongue then as now, and people wore the dis- 
 tinctive dress of their native land even when they were abroad. 
 Here would be merchants from Mantua and Padua in homely 
 stuffs, piped with red, and among them would be seen the 
 Jewish gaberdine. The street-boy would be present with doub- 
 let, belt, and ragged woollen cap, the latter being used as a 
 weapon to beat any hostile youth. Perhaps, also, there 
 would be one or two of the absurd Elizabethan fops, scented 
 with rosemary and lavender, crowned with feathered hats, 
 armed with velvet-cased and gold-tipped rapiers, wrapped in 
 cloaks of brilliant hue, and decorated with huge gold chains. 
 Here would be turbaned slaves abjectly following their mas- 
 ters, and sober-hued apprentices armed with cudgels. 
 
 The dress would indicate the class of the wearer. Besides 
 the apprentices in their fustian doublets, white stockings, 
 
1 12. 
 
 ,."i* 
 
 ;!|iji 
 
 ;i ',!i !i!!i nw 
 
 nip 
 
 
1566. Sir Thomas Gresham. 341 
 
 shoes of unpinked hide, girdles of leather, and plain ruffs, 
 we should see citizens in cloaks of brown or chocolate cloth, 
 and doublets of more fancy colors than the apprentices, though 
 less gorgeous than those of the dandies. We should recog- 
 nize as aldermen those with satin sleeves and doublets, and 
 furred and scarlet gowns. At this period the Londoners were 
 superbly attired. Even the Venetians, who set the fashion in 
 many things, were amazed, says Edwin Goadby, at the gor- 
 geous apparel of the English, — at the white and red-crossed 
 uniform of the London trainbands or militia, at the gaudy 
 liveries of men-servants and pages, at the laces and jewelry of 
 the gallants, and at the painted cheeks and silks and velvets 
 of the ladies. " Women carry manors and thousands of oak- 
 trees on their backs," it was said, and Ben Jonson described 
 the men as " mincing marmosets," made all of clothes and 
 face, who did not dare to smile for fear of " unstarching their 
 looks." 
 
 Such would be the crowd we should see, and in a babel of 
 tongues we should hear ejaculations about Tripoli raisins, 
 French coats, and the price of pepper ; scraps of Russian, 
 Dutch, French, and Italian. 
 
 For many years the merchants who made this a place 
 where they could meet on common ground for the transac- 
 tion of business had no shelter. " The merchants and trades- 
 men, as well English and strangers, for their general making 
 of bargains, contracts, and commerce," says Stow, the anti- 
 quary, " did usually meet twice every day, at noon and in the 
 evening. But these meetings were unpleasant and trouble- 
 some, by reason of walking and talking in an open narrow 
 street, being there constrained either to endure all extremes 
 of weather, viz. heat and cold, snow and rain, or else to shel- 
 ter themselves in shops." 
 
 Now about 1566 a public-spirited citizen offered to rem- 
 edy this state of things by erecting a bourse or exchange, in 
 
342 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 which the merchants could do their business in comfort, and 
 all he required was that a site should be provided for it. A 
 jubscription was immediately set afoot for the purchase of 
 the chosen spot in Cornhill, and in due time the land was 
 conveyed to him. 
 
 The name of this citizen was Sir Thomas Gresham, and 
 next to Whittington he is more prominent than any other 
 character in the history of the city of London. 
 
 It is on record, that being at the house of Mr. John Rivers, 
 alderman, in company with Sir William Garrard, Sir William 
 Chester, Thomas Rowe, Lionel Ducket, German Cioll, and 
 Thomas Bannister, Sir Thomas " most frankly and lovingly 
 promised " that within a month after the completion of the 
 bourse he would present it in equal moieties to the city and 
 the Mercers Company. In token of his sincerity he thereupon 
 shook hands with Sir William Garrard, and in the presence 
 of his assembled friends drank "a carouse" to his kinsman, 
 Thomas Rowe. On the 17th of June, 1566, he laid the foun- 
 dation stone, accompanied by several aldermen, each of 
 whom laid a piece of gold upon it for the workmen, and in 
 November, 1567, the Exchange was complete. 
 
 Sir Thomas was a man of prompt and energetic measures, 
 and one of the anecdotes told of him seems more character- 
 istic of Chicago or St. Louis than of a London merchant in 
 the sixteenth century. Queen Elizabeth was visiting him at 
 his splendid house in Bishopsgate Street, having previously 
 accepted his hospitalities at his country house, and with her 
 usual frankness she complained one afternoon, when looking 
 into the court-yard, that the latter was too large, and ought to 
 be divided into two. Sir Thomas instantly despatched mes- 
 sengers to procure workmen, and in the night-time a wall was 
 run up in the middle ; so that in the morning the Queen, to 
 her surprise, found the work which she had suggested actu- 
 ally achieved. 
 

 THOMAS GRESHAM. 
 
1550. Portraits of G res ham. 345 
 
 The work on the Exchange was done with similar rapidity. 
 
 There is a curious tradition, not unsupported by facts (says 
 Knight), with respect to the formation of the framework of 
 the building. Gresham refers in one of his letters to " my 
 house at Rinxhall, where I made all my provision for my 
 timber for the Bourse." Rinxhall, or Ringshall, is near Battis- 
 ford, Suffolk, from which it is divided by a great common 
 called Battisford Tye. The latter was formerly rich in wood, 
 and in a certain part of it the remains of several saw-pits are, 
 or were when Knight's " London " was issued, still discernible. 
 There is little doubt, then, that the wood was procured here, 
 and tradition further affirms that the entire framework was 
 constructed at Battisford Tye. 
 
 Gresham insisted on having the work done in his own w T ay, 
 and he controlled and supervised it from the beginning. 
 The freestone used was also brought from one of his estates, 
 while the slates, iron, and glass and wainscoting were brought 
 from Antwerp. Even the labor of erection was done to some 
 extent by foreigners. The architect was a Fleming named 
 Henrich, and many of the artisans came from the Low Coun- 
 tries. Gresham had none of the insular prejudice which 
 made craftsmen from abroad hated in London. 
 
 A few words now about his origin and circumstances may 
 not be out of place, though his biography is probably familiar 
 to most of our readers. Three portraits of him were painted 
 by his friend, Sir Antonio More. The first, painted in 1550, 
 is a half-length, and represents him with his doublet unbut- 
 toned and both his hands resting on a table — perhaps a 
 counter. He wears on his head, as usual, a black cap, and 
 in his right hand holds his gloves, an article of dress which 
 (says his biographer, John William Burgon) was intended to 
 indicate the significance of persons represented in ancient 
 pictures. In proof of the high estimation in which embroid- 
 ered gloves were held, Stow relates that when Edward Di 
 
346 Young Folks 1 History of Loudon. 
 
 Vere, Earl oi' Oxford, brought Queen Elizabeth a pair from 
 Italy, she was painted with them in her hands. 
 
 The second portrait, by Sir Antonio More, represents a man 
 of mature age sitting in a chair, clad, as usual. in a solemn col- 
 ored suit, with a small cap on his head and a pair of gloves 
 in his right hand. But the best-known portrait is that which 
 is often been engraved in illustrated works on London. 
 The same sober costume is seen in this as in all other por- 
 traits of Gresham. In his girdle he wears a dagger, and 
 from it depends an ancient purse or pouch, on which his 
 right hand rests. In his left hand he holds a small round 
 a pomander, the latter being a dried Seville orange 
 filled with cloves and other spices, which was esteemed as a 
 rvative against infection, though it became, like gloves 
 and finger-rings, a badge of fashion. One writer has de- 
 E I it as an orange, and infers that it was introduced into 
 the picture because Sir Thomas first brought that fruit into 
 England. Pun oranges were well known in England before 
 he was born. They are mentioned in the privy-purse expenses 
 of Elizabeth of York under the year 1502, and in an account 
 of the privy expenses of Henry the Eighth frequent allusion is 
 made to a gardener who brought " oranges, dates, and other 
 - to the King's grace." It can scarcely be questioned 
 that the object in the picture is a pomander, and, like the 
 es, it marks the social dignity of the person wearing it. 
 
 Gresham was not one of those romantic apprentice I 
 who come to London in a condition little better than that ot 
 
 ggars, and by industry and virtue push themselves ahead 
 until they succeed to their master's business. The Greshams 
 were a Norfolk family of distinction which included several 
 eminent merchants, and the father of Thomas was 
 Mayoi idon and a knight Thomas was intended for 
 
 a mercantile career from his 1 : but nevertheless his 
 
 father bestowed a university education upon him. and so far 
 
I55 1 - Gresham becomes King' s Factor. 347 
 
 from delaying his advancement in his chosen occupation, 
 his scholarship proved to be a constant advantage to him. 
 Like his father and his uncles, he became a member of the 
 Mercers' Company, — that famous association which has pro- 
 vided London with more than a hundred of her Lord May- 
 ors, — and at the age of twenty-four he was already a merchant 
 of repute. At the age of thirty-two he became a " king's 
 merchant," or factor, and this appointment marks the real 
 beginning of his prosperity. 
 
 The Tudor sovereigns often were much in want of money. 
 Hard and unjust laws prevented the natural wealth of the 
 country from being developed, while frequent wars and lavish 
 gifts to favorites helped to exhaust the treasury. In the time 
 of Henry the Eighth and his immediate successors, Antwerp 
 was the great emporium of commerce, and being the richest 
 city in the world, its merchants became the greatest money- 
 lenders. It was to Antwerp, then, that the impoverished 
 monarchs looked when they were needy. The money lenders 
 of that city knew that repayment was uncertain, however, and 
 they demanded as much as fourteen per cent interest on their 
 loans. The negotiation of the loans was intrusted, on the 
 King's part, to a factor, such as Gresham became, and the 
 position was one which required great ability, influence, and 
 integrity. It was also expected of this servant of the Crown 
 that he should keep the Privy Council informed of what was 
 going on abroad, and he was not infrequently called upon to 
 confer with foreign princes in the additional capacity of an 
 ambassador. 
 
 The position to which Gresham was appointed was there- 
 fore the highest honor which a merchant could receive at 
 the hands of his sovereign, and he at once proved the wis- 
 dom shown in the selection of himself for the office. He 
 raised the rate of exchange from sixteen shillings Flemish for 
 the pound sterling to twenty-two shillings, and it is probable 
 
348 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 that he saved England a very large sum from the beginning 
 of his negotiations. In all his transactions he showed a 
 statesman-like prudence, the sagacious calculativeness of a 
 master of finance, and a practical knowledge of the details of 
 commerce. He had the manners and mental scope of a 
 diplomat, and could associate with kings, while at the same 
 time he could run his fingers over a cloth or test a handful 
 of silk with the judgment of. a practical workman. For all 
 his services he received a paltry pound a day ; but at Ant- 
 werp, which exported nearly every article of luxury required 
 by the English people, he acquired that experience which 
 subsequently enabled him to enrich himself. 
 
 He lived during the reigns of Henry the Eighth, Edward 
 the Sixth, Mary, and Elizabeth. When Queen Mary came to 
 the throne he was hastily dismissed, for he was known to be 
 a staunch Protestant, and only Papists were now in favor ; 
 but when his usefulness was revealed to the Queen, he was 
 reinstated, and though he did not renounce his faith, he 
 conducted himself with such ability and discretion, that 
 Mary bestowed many gifts upon him. 
 
 A friend of the Papist Queen, he became a favorite of 
 her successor, Protestant Elizabeth, who, offering her hand 
 for him to kiss, told him that she would always keep one 
 ear ready to hear him, — " which," says Gresham, " made 
 me a young man again, and caused me to enter on my 
 present charge with heart and courage." The character of 
 Gresham was as high as his services were valuable. He 
 improved English credit abroad by making the sovereigns 
 respect their promises, and all along he advocated the bor- 
 rowing of money from London merchants instead of for- 
 eigners, so that the interest required should not go out of 
 England. 
 
 The years following the accession of Elizabeth were proba- 
 bly the happiest in his life, and he was then full of wealth and 
 
THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 
 
1 570. Opening of the ExcJiange. 3 5 1 
 
 honors ; but when the world had done all it could for him, 
 there came upon him one of those blows which neither 
 honors nor riches can avert. He lost his only and dearly- 
 beloved son, and the spirit of his ambition was quenched, 
 now that that which had stimulated it in the father's breast 
 was no more. It was this bereavement which, in the opinion 
 of Mr. Burgon, led him to dedicate his fortune to his fellow- 
 citizens, and one of the earliest of his benefactions was the 
 presentation of the Exchange. 
 
 The new building was distinctly Flemish, and was a close 
 imitation of the great Bourse of Antwerp. The principal 
 features of the exterior were a lofty tower with two balconied 
 galleries, and a grasshopper surmounting the ball at its top. 
 All four corners of the building were also ornamented with 
 the grasshopper, which was Gresham's crest. There has 
 been some controversy about this crest. A tradition existed 
 that Gresham when a child had been deserted on the high- 
 way, and that the chirping of a grasshopper called attention 
 to the spot where he lay perishing of neglect. Whatever the 
 origin of the crest was, — and it certainly was not this, — the 
 grasshopper was frequently introduced among the decora- 
 tions of the Exchange, and it appeared over the peak of 
 every dormer window. 
 
 The building consisted of an upper and a lower portion, 
 the first being laid out in shops, one hundred in number, and 
 the other into walks and rooms for the merchants, with shops 
 on the exterior. Gresham, no doubt, calculated on a hand- 
 some profit from the rent of the shops, but he was unable to 
 let them until he obtained the royal prestige by a visit from 
 Queen Elizabeth. She came attended by the Court to the 
 merchant's house in Bishopsgate Street (which was also 
 adorned with the grasshopper), and having dined, she in- 
 spected the Exchange, which was illuminated on the occa- 
 sion, and commanded that henceforth it should be called the 
 
352 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 Royal Exchange. From the day of the Queen's visit the 
 shops rapidly rose in value, and in a few years they were rilled 
 with the richest wares the world of commerce could produce. 
 "The merchants are generally men of good habit," said a 
 clever writer of the time ; " their words are generally better 
 than their consciences ; their discourse ordinarily begins in 
 water, but ends in wine. The frequenting the walks twice a 
 day, and a careless laughter, argues they are sound ; if they 
 visit not once a day, ' t is expected they are cracking or bro- 
 ken. Their countenance is ordinarily shaped by their suc- 
 cess at sea, either merry, sad, or desperate. They are like 
 ships at sea, top and top-gallant this day, to-morrow sinking. 
 The sea is a tennis-court, their stakes are balls, the wind is 
 the racket, and doth strike many for lost under line, and 
 many in the hazard. . . . Rough seas, rocks and pi- 
 rates, treacherous factors and leaking ships, affright them. 
 They are strange politicians ; for they bring Turkey and 
 Spain into London, and carry London thither." The mer- 
 chants were not the sole occupants ; the new Exchange 
 became a resort for idlers, and the upper part, brilliantly 
 lighted in the evening, became a fashionable lounge for ladies 
 and gentlemen. 
 
 The institution flourished ; but, among so many monu- 
 ments of the ancient glory of the city, it was destroyed by the 
 Great Fire of 1666. There were many statues of kings and 
 queens, and one of Sir Thomas, which alone remained stand- 
 ing after the conflagration. 
 
 Gresham died suddenly in 1579, and left a large sum of 
 money for the foundation of various charitable and educa- 
 tional institutions. He was buried in St. Helen's Church, 
 Bishopsgate Street, where his tomb may still be seen. 
 
 The second Exchange, built after the Great Fire in the 
 reign of Charles the Second, was burned down in 1838, and 
 a circumstance is related in connection with this fire which 
 
1 844. The New ExcJiange. 353 
 
 must have had a strong effect on the popular imagination at 
 the time. The clock of the Exchange played certain tunes 
 on certain days. The tune for Wednesday, the day on which 
 the disaster occurred, was "There is nae luck aboot the 
 house ; " and while the- fire was raging, the bells rang out this 
 sadly appropriate air, and then fell one after another into the 
 ruin beneath. The original statue of Sir Thomas Gresham 
 was destroyed with the building, and the flames were seen at 
 Windsor, twenty-four miles from London. 
 
 Another curious fact may be mentioned in reference to the 
 second Exchange. A deserted child was found on the stone 
 steps, and a kind-hearted citizen took charge of it and brought 
 it up. The foundling was christened Michael Gresham, and 
 he grew up a rich and prosperous man, and further per- 
 petuated the noble name which he bore by giving it to a 
 celebrated hotel in Dublin of which he was proprietor. 
 
 The present Exchange was opened by Queen Victoria on 
 Oct. 28, 1844, and it is one of the finest buildings in the 
 city. It contains a memorial bust and the armorial bearings 
 of Sir Thomas Gresham, and due credit is given to him in 
 the records buried in the hollow of the foundation-stone. 
 
" Sir John Herschel somewhat unctuously called London the 
 centre of the terrene globe. Emerson says that all things precious, or 
 useful, or amusing, or intoxicating are sucked into English commerce, 
 and floated to London. A recent writer, speaking of the metropolis, 
 says that London is an epitome of the world, a museum of all human 
 anatomies, a mirror for all the passions, a showroom for all the an- 
 tiquities and splendors, a universal gala ground, and a perpetual 
 mourning house. London is also the metropolis of the world's litera- 
 ture. Its literary memories are imposing, and are thickly strewed 
 through all the years of four centuries. Everywhere, in its aris- 
 tocratic squares and its business marts and its squalid purlieus, is 
 London dotted with spots consecrated as the haunts of literary great- 
 ness." 
 
 Moncure D. Conway. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 TEMPLE BAR AND ITS NEIGHBORHOOD. 
 
 Temple Bar itself exists no longer. For centuries it stood 
 between the western end of Fleet Street and the eastern 
 end of the Strand, separating the City of London from the 
 Liberty of Westminster; but in 1874 it was removed, to re- 
 lieve the enormous traffic of those streets. Though the pic- 
 turesque old archway has disappeared, however, and its site 
 is occupied by an absurd monument which is almost as much 
 of an obstruction as the Bar ever was, the name still attaches 
 to the locality ; and when every vestige of Dr. Johnson, Bos- 
 well, and Goldsmith has been obliterated from Fleet Street ; 
 when the rapidly advancing improvements have supplanted 
 all the smoky old taverns and dark alleyways ; when per- 
 haps even the Temple Church itself has been demolished, 
 c d the old inns of court are only preserved in prints and his- 
 to^.es, — the conjunction of Fleet Street and the Strand will 
 still be known, probably, as Temple Bar. 
 
 Temple Bar was never a city gate, but it marked the city 
 bounds ; and as a sign that royalty itself could not enter with- 
 out the gracious consent of the municipal rulers, it was inva- 
 riably closed when a sovereign approached the city, in order 
 that this consent might be given, and, no doubt, that the King 
 might be reminded of the independence which his citizens 
 had procured for themselves in their jealously protected char- 
 ters. When the monarch arrived, one herald sounded a 
 trumpet and another herald knocked at the gate, which after 
 a parley was loyally flung open, the Lord Mayor presenting 
 
356 Young Folks' History of Loudon. 
 
 the sword of the city to the sovereign, who accepted it as a 
 matter of form and returned it with due courtesy. This cere- 
 mony was observed by Elizabeth when she went to return 
 thanks at St. Paul's Cathedral for the destruction of the 
 Spanish Armada ; again by Cromwell when he went to dine 
 in state with the Mayor ; again by Queen Anne after the bat- 
 tle of Blenheim ; and, last of all, by Queen Victoria on several 
 occasions. On the 5th of November, 1422, the hero of 
 Agincourt, Henry the Fifth, was borne under the Bar to his 
 tomb in Westminster Abbey, and in 1502 the hearse of Eliza- 
 beth of York halted here while the abbots of Westminster 
 and Bermondsey blessed the corpse. Anne Boleyn passed 
 through the Bar the day before her coronation, and the an- 
 cient gateway was newly painted for the occasion, while the 
 conduits, which usually carried water to the houses, were filled 
 with claret. It was sumptuously decorated again in honor of 
 the coronation of Edward the Sixth, and also when his half- 
 sister, Mary Tudor, came through the city to take her place 
 on the throne. 
 
 At Temple Bar the accession of Charles the Second was 
 proclaimed. According to custom, the old oaken gates were 
 shut, and the herald, with tabard on and trumpet in hand, 
 knocked and gravely demanded entrance. The Lord Mayor 
 appointed some one to ask who knocked. The herald replied 
 that if they would open the wicket and let the Lord Mayor 
 come thither, he would explain. The Mayor then appeared 
 dressed in a crimson gown, and to him the herald spoke : "We 
 are the herald-at-arms appointed and commanded by the 
 Lords and Commons in Parliament, and demand an entrance 
 into the famous City of London, to proclaim Charles the Sec- 
 ond King of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland ; and we 
 expect your speedy answer to our demand." An alderman 
 now replied, " The message is accepted," and the gates were 
 thrown open. 
 
TEMPLE BAR. 
 
1746. Last Heads on Temple Bar. 359 
 
 The shadow of every monarch and popular hero since 
 Charles the Second's time, says Mr. Thornbury, has rested for 
 at least a passing moment on the old gateway. George the 
 Third, young and happy, passed through Temple Bar the year 
 after his coronation ; and years later he passed under it when, 
 nearly broken-hearted, he went to return thanks for his par- 
 tial recovery from insanity. George the Fourth also came 
 through it to attend the thanksgiving services at St. Paul's 
 with which the downfall of Napoleon was celebrated ; and 
 twice on her visits to the city has the civic sword been de- 
 livered to Queen Victoria at these portals. 
 
 When Lord Nelson was about to be buried, the corpse, 
 followed by sorrowing old sailors, was met at the Bar by the 
 Lord Mayor ; and at the funeral of the Duke of Wellington 
 the ancient edifice was entirely covered with black cloth and 
 velvet, against which were hung the armorial bearings and 
 orders of the Duke in their proper colors, while upon the top 
 were silvered cornices, urns, and a circle of torches. 
 
 The Bar was for a long time used for the exhibition of 
 the heads of persons who were executed for treason. These 
 ghastly objects were fixed on spikes and allowed to moulder 
 in the sun and rain until the wind brought the shrivelled re- 
 mains to the ground, and a trade was made of hiring out spy- 
 glasses by persons in the street below. The last heads exhib- 
 ited were those of Francis Townley and George Fletcher, who 
 with seven other Jacobites had been hanged, disembowelled, 
 beheaded, and quartered on Kennington Common. About 
 one hundred and twenty years ago these were blown down, 
 and the iron spikes were removed early in the present century. 
 
 The original division between the city and Westminster 
 was simply made by posts and chains, — a bar, to which the 
 name of the adjoining Temple was given. This gave place to 
 a wooden house raised across the street, with a narrow gate- 
 way underneath, which was taken down after the Great Fire, 
 
360 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 and substituted by a building of Portland stone designed by 
 Sir Christopher Wren. It had a large arch in the centre for 
 a carriage-way, and a smaller semicircular arch on each side 
 for foot-passengers. Each facade had four Corinthian pilas- 
 ters, an entablature, and an arched pediment. In four niches 
 were statues of James the First and his Queen, Anne of Den- 
 mark, Charles the First and Charles the Second. The gates 
 were of oak, panelled, and surmounted by a festoon of fruit 
 and flowers ; and over the archway was an apartment which 
 was rented by Childs' Bank until the final demolition of the 
 Bar in 1874. 
 
 On all sides of the site of the old Bar is a neighborhood 
 rich in historic associations. On the north is Chancery Lane, 
 with the New Law Courts, and Lincoln's Inn ; on the south 
 is the Temple itself, with its Gardens, Church, and barristers' 
 chambers; on the west lie the Strand and Covent Garden, 
 and on the east is Fleet Street, with its printing-houses and 
 news-shops, its literary byways and old taverns. Fleet Street, 
 still distinguished by the possession of several great news- 
 paper offices, has always been a haunt of authors and liter- 
 ary adventurers. 
 
 " It is my practice when I am in want of amusement," 
 said Dr. Johnson, " to place myself for an hour at Temple 
 Bar, and examine one by one the looks of the passengers ; 
 and I have commonly found that between the hours of eleven 
 and four every sixth man is an author. They are seldom to 
 be seen very early in the morning or late in the evening ; but 
 about dinner-time they are all in motion, and have one uni- 
 form eagerness in their faces, which gives little opportunity of 
 discovering their hopes or fears, their pleasures or their pains. 
 But in the afternoon, when they have all dined, or composed 
 themselves to pass the day without a dinner, their passions 
 have full play, and I can perceive one man wondering at the 
 stupidity of the public, by which his new book has been 
 
1883. The Temple Gardens. 361 
 
 totally neglected ; another cursing the French, who fright 
 away literary curiosity by their threat of an invasion ; another 
 swearing at his bookseller, who will advance no money with- 
 out copy ; another perusing as he walks his publisher's bill ; 
 another murmuring at an unanswerable criticism ; another 
 determining to write no more to a generation of barbarians ; 
 and another wishing to try once again whether he cannot 
 awaken a drowsy world to a sense of his merit." 
 
 Happily the conditions of authorship have changed since 
 Dr. Johnson's time ; and though they are not such as foster 
 luxury, the writer who applies his abilities in the proper direc- 
 tion may at least be sure of his dinner. 
 
 The grounds of the Temple reach down from Fleet Street 
 to the Thames Embankment. Some of the buildings are of 
 smoke-stained brick, with small-paned windows, and no touch 
 of ornament in their gloomy fronts. They are gathered in 
 little courts and squares, with well-worn flagstones before 
 them, and in them generations of lawyers have lived and 
 done business, — the same profession monopolizing them still. 
 The old church is also here, with its relics of the Crusades, its 
 sun-dial, and cross and lamb. The atmosphere is of a long- 
 removed past, though the hum and rattle of the busiest of 
 London streets sounds over the roofs, upon which clusters of 
 quaint old chimney-tops are uncoiling their smoke. The 
 foliage of the trees and the chirruping of birds, the flash and 
 patter of the fountain, and the hues of the flowers, gain an 
 emphasis in contrast with the dark-red buildings ; it seems, 
 indeed, as if the birds, fountain, and flowers were unrivalled, 
 and each awakens a feeling of gratitude for the solace that it 
 bears to those who have left the noisy street and the commer- 
 cial strife behind. But the ancient enclosure has some new 
 and showy buildings in it, and toward the Embankment, 
 where they overlook the river, the gardens, with gilded rail- 
 ings, have a decidedly modern look. 
 
362 Yoting Folks History of London. 
 
 The Order of Knights-Templars was established by the 
 King of Jerusalem in 11 18, and ten years later it found a 
 home in England, where the members of it came to seek aid 
 in protecting the Holy City, and the Christian pilgrims who 
 went to it, from the infidels. They called themselves " The 
 Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solo- 
 mon," and though members of some of the noblest families of 
 England and France, they subjected themselves to the most 
 austere discipline, giving up all luxury and their personal 
 independence. Their dress was a white mantle, with a red 
 cross upon it. In battle they displayed a black and white 
 banner, inscribed : Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomini 
 tuo da gloriam, — " Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but 
 unto Thy Name give the praise ; " and to symbolize their ori- 
 ginal poverty, they adopted for the seal of their Order the 
 device of two men riding on one horse. 
 
 At first they established themselves in a house on the pres- 
 ent site of Southampton Buildings, Holborn ; but in fifty years 
 they had so increased in wealth, that they were able to pur- 
 chase the land which still commemorates the Order, and on 
 it they erected a habitation for themselves, attached to which 
 was a church of great beauty, in imitation of a temple near 
 the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem. 
 
 Their life was a most frugal one, and the poorest people now 
 have comforts with which the Knights-Templars were unfamil- 
 iar. The conditions under which they lived are thus set forth 
 by Mrs. Newton Crosland : " Not a printed book existed, 
 and there were very few writings in the world, except copies 
 of the Scriptures in Latin and Greek. These manuscripts 
 were often rightly judged more precious than their weight in 
 gold. Reading was thought a great accomplishment, and to 
 be able to write, something extraordinary. We may be pretty 
 sure that, except the chaplains, and probably the Masters, few 
 of the Knights-Templars could either read or write with any- 
 
KN IGHT-TEMPLAB. 
 
i3oo- Life of the Templars. 365 
 
 thing like facility. Then in the matter of their diet, — how- 
 limited it was ! Tea and coffee and potatoes and the greater 
 number of our fruits and vegetables were wholly unknown to 
 them. Wine was sold in small quantities as a cordial, and 
 was probably looked on as a medicine ; though it is likely 
 enough that those Templars who had travelled in the East 
 had tasted the Greek wines, and perhaps some others. How- 
 ever, they had the best of all beverages close at hand, their 
 fountain of pure water in the Temple Gardens, and the bright 
 river called for many generations after their day the ' silver 
 Thames.' The river swarmed with fish, so that no doubt they 
 had fresh, delicious fare for their so-called fast-days ; and we 
 may be sure that country friends supplied them with venison 
 and other game very often, and we know they had plenty of 
 money to purchase anything in the market. But it was a 
 strange life, without reading and without postal communica- 
 tion ; and we can fancy how the Templars told travellers' tales 
 over and over again for want of novelties to think about. 
 Sun-dials and hour-glasses must have been used by them 
 instead of clocks. 
 
 " But though the Knights-Templars knew how to honor 
 their Order, they also knew very well how to punish refrac- 
 tory members of it. There is still to be seen at the side of 
 the church the penitential cell in which culprits were con- 
 fined, often for long periods. It is reached by a narrow 
 staircase, and measures less than five feet in length by two 
 and a half in breadth, so that a well-grown man could 
 not lie down at full length in it. There were apertures, 
 however, looking into the church, through which he could 
 hear the service. This shows that the Order had care for the 
 souls of their erring brothers, however cruelly their bodies 
 were treated. In this wretched cell the Grand Preceptor of 
 Ireland was fettered by command of the Master, and died in 
 his misery. At daybreak his body was ignominiously buried 
 
366 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 between the church and the hall. Sometimes, for what 
 we should call trivial offences, the Knights were publicly 
 scourged. One of them quitted the Order ; but, either im- 
 pelled by superstitious terrors or really repentant of his faults, 
 he voluntarily returned, and submitted himself to whatever 
 penance the Master chose to inflict. He was condemned to 
 fast on bread and water four days in the week, and to eat 
 with the dogs on the ground for a year, and to be scourged 
 in the church every Sunday." 
 
 While the members held themselves in subjugation, how- 
 ever, the Order was despotic, the patriarch treating even the 
 King with contumely ; and at last it was accused of being both 
 heretical and corrupt. But though there was some truth in 
 the charges brought against it, they were exaggerated, and it 
 was covetousness rather than righteousness which prompted 
 its enemies. The Templars were persecuted, — in France, 
 some of them were burned at the stake, — and many of them 
 were tortured, with the object of extorting confessions from 
 them ; and when their property had been pillaged by Church 
 and State, what remained of it was given to a rival Order, — 
 that of St. John, the Knights-Hospitallers of Jerusalem, which 
 is commemorated in St. John's Wood and in St. John's Gate, 
 Clerkenwell, — an ancient edifice, now used as a tavern, 
 which formed the entrance to the hospital of the Order. 
 
 In the old rooms over St. John's Gate, Clerkenwell, the 
 Gentleitiarf s Magazine was started by Cave, the printer, in 
 1 73 1, and Dr. Johnson, writing at so much per sheet, brought 
 his articles thither, and hid himself from strangers behind 
 a screen, because he was too shabby to appear in company. 
 The Doctor told wonderful stories of the powers of a friend 
 of his, an actor ; and this genius was invited to rehearse be- 
 fore Cave, — which he did with great success, his name 
 being David Garrick. 
 
 When the Knights of St. John acquired the property of the 
 

 1 
 
 11 
 
 
 Hi wU\ 
 
 ■ 
 
 jig III II III III 
 
 ■ 
 
 ST JOHN'S GATE. 
 
1839- Restoration of the Church. 369 
 
 fallen Templars, they leased it to certain students of the com- 
 mon law, who were pleased with it because it was " out of the 
 city and the noise thereof, and in the suburbs ; " and though 
 Henry the Eighth confiscated it, and since his time it has 
 belonged to the Crown, it is still tenanted by lawyers. 
 
 While in possession of the Templars the buildings formed 
 a vast monastery, with a council- chamber, a refectory, a bar- 
 rack, a church, a range of cloisters, and a terrace on the river 
 for religious meditation and military exercises. Of these only 
 the church, which escaped the Great Fire, remains, — a legacy 
 of the days of the Crusades to modern times. 
 
 The church has been frequently altered, and in 1839 it was 
 restored at a cost of $350,000. There are really two 
 churches: one, the round church, built in 11 85 by the 
 Templars themselves, and the other, a Gothic chapel, built 
 by the Knights of St. John after the expulsion of the Tem- 
 plars, so that under one roof we can see the transition from 
 Norman to Early English architecture. The interior is 
 beautiful. The pillars are of polished marble ; the banners 
 that flew in the Crusades are still unfurled in the decora- 
 tions of the ceiling ; and up there, too, the war-cry of the 
 " poor fellow-soldiers of Jesus Christ " is repeated in graven 
 letters. 
 
 On the pavement lie two groups of effigies carved in free- 
 stone, — the memorials of eight knights who were associates 
 of the Temple. One of these was Geoffrey de Magnaville, 
 Earl 01 Essex, who fought against King Stephen, sacked 
 Cambridge, and plundered Ramsey Abbey. He was excom- 
 municated ^ and while besieging Burwell Castle was struck by 
 an arrow from a crossbow just as he had taken off his helmet 
 to get air. The Templars, not daring to bury him, soldered 
 him up in lead, and hung him on a crooked tree in their river- 
 side orchard. Absolution at last being given, the body was 
 buried in the church. Another eingy is of Earl Marshall, 
 
 24 
 
370 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 near which are effigies of his two sons, the youngest of whom 
 was the last of his race. The extinction of the family was 
 believed to be due to the curse of the Abbot of Femes, whose 
 lands had been taken by the Earl. After the latter died, the 
 Abbot went to his tomb and promised him absolution if he 
 would restore the lands ; but the dead gave no sign, and the 
 curse remained upon his house until all who bore his name 
 became extinct. Some of the effigies are straight-legged, and 
 those whose legs are crossed are in this way shown to have 
 taken the vow of a crusader. There are many other monu- 
 ments in the church, but none is more interesting than that 
 of Oliver Goldsmith. 
 
 The possession of the Temple is vested in the Societies of 
 the Inner and Middle Temple, which are composed of stu- 
 dents and practitioners of English law. Besides these so- 
 cieties there are two similar ones in London, — the Society of 
 Lincoln's Inn and the Society of Gray's Inn. All are called 
 "inns," — the word, like the French hotel, meaning a man- 
 sion ; and each has a hall, a chapel, a library and a suite of 
 rooms for the use of the benchers, or governors, while there is 
 a number of buildings divided into sets of chambers, which 
 are occupied for the most part by barristers and solicitors. 
 Each inn has the privilege of calling students to the Bar, 
 and also the supervision of the education of candidates for 
 the higher branch of the legal profession. The inns are, 
 indeed, what medical colleges are to medical students, and 
 they alone can create barristers. 
 
 Before any student can be admitted to one of the four 
 Societies of the Inns of Court, he must obtain the certificate 
 of two barristers, and in the case of the Middle Temple that 
 of a bencher, to show he is " aptus, habilis, et idoneus mori- 
 bus et scientia." On his admission, he has the use of the 
 library, may claim a seat in the church or chapel of the Inn, 
 and have his name set down for chambers. He must then 
 
1562. The Middle Temple. 371 
 
 keep "commons" by dining in hall for twelve terms, of 
 which there are four in each year. Before keeping terms he 
 must also deposit ^"ioo with the treasurer, to be returned, 
 without interest, when he is called to the Bar. 
 
 No student can be " called " till he is of three years' stand- 
 ing and twenty-one years of age : after he is called he 
 becomes a "barrister." The call is made by the "bench- 
 ers," the governing body of seniors, chosen for their " hon- 
 est behavior and good disposition," and " such as from 
 their experience are of best note and ability to serve the 
 kingdom." 
 
 Lectures are given at each of the inns, which are open to 
 all its students ; examinations take place and scholarships 
 are awarded. But a man may be called to the Bar who 
 has not attended lectures or passed examinations, though 
 "keeping commons" by dining in hall is an indispensable 
 qualification. 
 
 The principal buildings of the modern Temple are the two 
 halls. That of the Middle Temple was begun in 1562, and 
 is considered one of the grandest Elizabethan structures in 
 London. The roof is of dark oak, which is also the material 
 of the screen and the music gallery, and the walls are emblaz- 
 oned with heraldry. The windows are filled with exquisitely 
 colored glass. As the Templars dined in their hall seven 
 hundred years ago, so in this hall dine the members of the 
 Society, the benchers taking the places of the knights, the bar- 
 risters those of the priors, or brethren, and the students those 
 of the novices. *Here Shakespeare's " Twelfth Night " was per- 
 formed soon after its first production, and the hall is probably 
 the only remaining building in which one of the great drama- 
 tist's plays was seen by his contemporaries. Attached to 
 the Middle Temple is the new library, — a handsome build- 
 ing, erected twenty years ago at the southwest corner of the 
 garden, in which, if we may believe Shakespeare, the partisans 
 
372 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 of the House of York and that of Lancaster first chose a red 
 and a white rose as their respective badges. Says Warwick : 
 
 " This brawl to-day, 
 Grown to this faction in the Temple Gardens, 
 Shall send, between the red rose and the white, 
 A thousand souls to death and deadly night." 
 
 The Inner Temple Hall is only a few years old • and if it 
 has not the ancient splendor of the Middle Temple Hall, the 
 members have cause for some satisfaction in the modern con- 
 veniences which their new building possesses. 
 
 Abutting on the church, the library, the garden, and the 
 halls are the chambers of the barristers ; and looking up to 
 their blinking old windows, we seem to see many a familiar 
 face. In Crown Office Row (now rebuilt) Charles Lamb 
 was born, and Thackeray had quarters with Tom Taylor, the 
 playwright. In King's Bench Walk the great lawyer, William 
 Murray, afterward Earl of Mansfield, had his abode ; and here 
 he was visited by Sarah, the great Duchess of Marlborough, 
 who came late in the evening to consult him, and was much 
 annoyed to find that he had gone to a supper-party. " I 
 could not tell who she w r as," said the servant, reporting her 
 visit, " for she would not tell me her name ; but she swore so 
 dreadfully that I am sure she must be a lady of quality." 
 
 At No. 2 Brick Court lived the great commentator, Black- 
 stone, who was much disturbed by the revelry of the tenant 
 who occupied the rooms above him — one Oliver Goldsmith, 
 who gave supper-parties and sang comic songs, having re- 
 cently come into a large sum of money through the success 
 of a comedy called "The Good-natured Man." Goldsmith's 
 gayety was like April sunshine, clouds were always passing 
 over it ; and the most innocent of his indulgences were fol- 
 lowed by regrets. One day he hired a fancy dress, in which 
 he proposed to attend a masquerade ; and repenting of the 
 
DR. JOHNSON'S PEW. 
 
1883. Fountain Court. 375 
 
 extravagance, he flung the parcel on the floor and played 
 football with it, — an occupation in which Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds found him in those same chambers at No. 2 Brick 
 Court, where the gentle poet afterward died. 
 
 In Fountain Court is the little fountain described by 
 Dickens in " Martin Chuzzlewit," and at No. 1 Inner Temple 
 Lane Dr. Johnson had chambers. " It must be confessed," 
 says Boswell, "that his apartments, furniture, and morning 
 dress were sufficiently uncouth. His brown suit of clothes 
 looked very rusty. He had on a little old, shrivelled, unpow- 
 dered wig which was too small for his head ; his shirt neck 
 and the knees of his breeches were loose, his black worsted 
 stockings ill-drawn up, and he had a pair of unbuckled shoes 
 by the way of slippers." Boswell himself had chambers at 
 the bottom of Inner Temple Lane. 
 
 It is not indispensable that a man should be a barrister in 
 order to occupy chambers. Literary men have always shown 
 a liking for the dusky old courts and shabby old apartments, 
 and it is said that Chaucer himself was a tenant ; though some 
 doubt has been thrown upon this statement. In some in- 
 stances the tenants of the chambers have been authors sim- 
 ply, as was the case with Charles Lamb ; and in many 
 cases they have been members of the inns, combining the 
 study or practice of the law with the more congenial pur- 
 suit of literature. Among the famous authors, in addition 
 to those already mentioned, have been Sir Walter Raleigh, 
 Beaumont, Wycherley, Congreve, Sheridan, Edmund Burke, 
 Cowper, and Moore. Among the lawyers of the Inner Tem- 
 ple have been Audley, Lord Chancellor to Henry the Eighth ; 
 Nicholas Hare, Master of the Rolls to Queen Mary; Sir 
 Christopher Hatton ; Selden ; and Judge Jeffreys : of the 
 Middle Temple, Lord Chancellor Clarendon, Lord Ashbur- 
 ton, Lord Chancellor Eldon, and Lord Stowell. 
 
 Just outside of the precincts of the Temple is the neigh- 
 
376 Young Folks' History of London. 
 
 borhood of Whitefriars, formerly the site of the house and 
 gardens of the monks who bore that name, which after the 
 Reformation became a notorious resort of rascals of all kinds, 
 as it retained the privilege of sanctuary, by which any male- 
 factor while within its bounds was safe from arrest for his 
 crime. Its area comprised the streets, lanes, and alleys be- 
 tween Water Lane (now Whitefriars Street), the Temple, 
 Fleet Street, and the Thames, and to it the slang name of 
 Alsatia was given. A bitter feud existed between the Alsa- 
 tians and the Templars. In July, 1691, the latter, weary of 
 their disreputable neighbors, attempted to brick up a gate- 
 way which gave entrance into the Temple from Whitefriars ; 
 but as fast as the workmen built up, the Alsatians pulled 
 down. At last the Templars flew out to rout the intruders, 
 and in the battle which ensued two persons were killed and 
 several wounded. The opposition of the Templars led in 
 the end to the abolition of the so-called right of sanctuary, 
 which made harbors in London for mobs of thieves, gamb- 
 lers, and courtesans. A graphic description of Alsatia may 
 be found in Scott's " Fortunes of Nigel ; " and no better pic- 
 ture of London in the time of James the First exists than 
 this delightful romance, to which we have before referred. 
 
 On the side of the street opposite to the Temple are the 
 new Royal Courts of Justice, — a splendid group of buildings 
 covering nearly eight acres of ground ; and at their western 
 end, in an almost oval space, which the Strand here forms, 
 is the church of St. Clement Danes (one of Sir Christopher 
 Wren's), in which Dr. Johnson worshipped, ''repeating," 
 says Boswell, "the responses in the Litany with tremulous 
 energy." His pew was 111 the north gallery, and it is now 
 marked by a brass plate. 
 
 Behind the New Law Courts are the buildings and gardens 
 of Lincoln's Inn, which reach nearly all the way up to Hol- 
 born ; and as we enter this richly historic field it seems futile to 
 
GATEWAY, LINCOLN'S INN. 
 
1518. Gateway of Lincoln's Inn. 379 
 
 attempt to compress into a few lines the many associations of 
 the locality. There are several blind alleys leading into Lin- 
 coln's Inn, but the main entrance is a brick gateway bearing 
 the date of 15 18. Thus at the very portal we meet with one 
 of those relics of the past which transport us on the wings of 
 reminiscence into a period centuries earlier than our own. 
 On this gateway Ben Jonson is said to have worked with his 
 Horace in one hand and a trowel in the other, until " some 
 gentlemen, pitying that his parts should be buried under the 
 rubbish of so mean a calling, did of their bounty manumize 
 him freely to follow his own ingenious inclinations." 
 
 The name of the Inn came from Henry de Lacy, Earl of 
 Lincoln, whose town house was on the site ; and the build- 
 ings, including the most spacious of London squares, com- 
 prise those in Chancery Lane, which have a frontage of five 
 hundred feet, and were erected between the reigns of Henry 
 the Seventh and James the First ; the old hall, wherein were 
 held the revels of the Society ; New Square, which was com- 
 pleted in 1697; the chapel; the stone buildings, completed 
 in 1845 ') an d the new hall and library. The stone buildings 
 and the new hall and library are modern ; but nearly all the 
 rest, as the dates indicate, are very old, and they have an 
 appearance of greater antiquity than the courtyards of the 
 Temple. 
 
 On the left of the ground-floor, at No. 24 in the " Old 
 Buildings," were the rooms of Oliver Cromwell's secretary, 
 John Thurloe, from 1645 t0 i( ^59j where his correspondence 
 was discovered behind a false ceiling. There is a tradition 
 that the Protector came thither one day to discuss with 
 Thurloe the plot of Sir Richard Willis for seizing the persons 
 of the three princes, sons of Charles the First. Having dis- 
 closed his plans, he discovered Thurloe's clerk apparently 
 asleep upon his desk. Fearing treason, he would have killed 
 him on the spot, but Thurloe interfered ; and after passing 
 
380 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 a dagger repeatedly over the clerk's unflinching countenance, 
 Cromwell was satisfied that he was really asleep. He was 
 not asleep, however, but had heard everything, and he after- 
 ward found means to warn the princes. 
 
 Retaining the name by which the space was known when 
 it was ampler, and not circumscribed as it now is by buildings, 
 the square of verdure enclosed by the inn is still called Lin- 
 coln's Inn Fields. In former times it was a place of execu- 
 tion, and on it Lord William Russell suffered death under 
 a charge of high treason. On the north side is the Soane 
 Museum, which was formed in his own house and bequeathed 
 to the nation by the architect of the Bank of England, Sir 
 John Soane, who especially intended it to illustrate the artistic 
 and instructive purposes to which a private dwelling may be 
 put. The collection includes several pictures of great value, 
 including works by Turner, Hogarth, Sir Joshua Reynolds, 
 and Sir Charles Eastlake. On the west side of the Fields is 
 Lindsey House, built by Robert Lindsey, who fell in the ser- 
 vice of Charles the First at Edgehill ; and near this is the Sar- 
 dinian Chapel, built a year before that King was beheaded. 
 In a house opposite the chapel Benjamin Franklin lived 
 when a journeyman printer. He lodged with a Roman 
 Catholic widow and her daughter, to whom he paid a rent 
 of 3-r. 6d. a week. When kept at home by the gout he was 
 frequently asked to spend the evenings with his landlady. 
 " Our supper," he says in his Autobiography, " was only half 
 an anchovy each, on a very little slice of bread and butter, 
 and half a pint of ale between us ; but the entertainment was 
 in her conversation." From his temperance habits, Franklin 
 was known as the " water- American." 
 
 On the south side of the square is the Royal College of 
 Surgeons, attached to which is the museum of one of the 
 greatest of surgeons, Dr. John Hunter, — a priceless collection 
 of anatomical specimens, including the skeletons of the thief- 
 
1883. The Modern Strand. 383 
 
 taker, Jonathan Wild, and O'Brien, the Irish giant, who 
 measured eight feet four inches. On the northern side of 
 the square John Milton lived when he removed from Barbi- 
 can, and at the northwestern corner is Newcastle House, built 
 in 1686, which in the reign of George the Second was occu- 
 pied by the Duke of Newcastle, of whom Lord Wilmington 
 said, " He loses half an hour every morning, and runs after it 
 all the rest of the day, without being able to overtake it." 
 
 These are but a few of the associations of Lincoln's Inn, 
 which has had among its members Sir Thomas More, Sir 
 Robert Walpole, Lord Mansfield, William Pitt, Lord Ellen- 
 borough, and Spencer Perceval, the prime minister, who was 
 assassinated at Westminster by a merchant named Belling- 
 ham, because he had not attended to a trivial complaint made 
 against the Russian ambassador by his murderer. 
 
 Let us now return to Temple Bar. Reaching westward to 
 Charing Cross and Trafalgar Square is the Strand, which was 
 once the shore of the Thames, though it is now at least one- 
 eighth of a mile from that river. The splendid mansions that 
 once bordered it are all demolished, and on both sides of it 
 are shops, theatres, and hotels. At night it is a blaze of light 
 when other streets are dark, and the traffic continues to pour 
 through it when all the rest of the vast city seems to be sleep- 
 ing. Here again we seem to see a familiar face at nearly 
 every window as we recall the history of the thoroughfare. 
 Covent Garden, to the north of it, and the neighborhood to 
 the south of it have also been peopled by a long line of celeb- 
 rities ; but for a knowledge of these we must refer the reader 
 to more comprehensive works than ours, in order that we may 
 have space to glean something of the history of Fleet Street, 
 which extends eastward from the Bar, and is incomparably 
 more fertile in literary associations than any other street in 
 London. Fleet Street is rapidly being modernized ; but it 
 is not yet bereaved of all its smoky, sooty-faced houses, and 
 
384 Young Folks' History of Loiidon. 
 
 many of its byways have been left undisturbed in the al- 
 terations of its architecture. 
 
 Just within the site of Temple Bar is Childs' Bank, of which 
 we have already given an account, and at No. 37 is Hoares' 
 Bank. But the interests of the street are literary, not com- 
 mercial, and they have been so for many a year. Being a 
 street of publishers and authors, it is not strange that many of 
 the buildings are old taverns, in which the poets and essayists, 
 the play- writers and the story- writers have gathered for relax- 
 ation ever since coffee-houses came into fashion in the time 
 of the Stuarts. The name and the site are in most instances 
 all that remain of the original establishments ; but though the 
 Mitre is now an unnoticeable public-house, and the Rainbow 
 has a palatial hall instead of a low wainscoted room for its 
 customers, the ground on which they stand is consecrated. 
 Next door to Childs' Bank was the Devil Tavern, a resort of 
 Dr. Garth, Addison, Swift, and the great lexicographer, which 
 in much earlier times had been the meeting- place of the 
 Apollo Club, presided over by Ben Jonson. At No. 201 the 
 Cock Tavern, celebrated by Tennyson, stood until recently, 
 and in it Pepys often supped and made merry. At the foot of 
 Chancery Lane Izaak Walton traded as a hosier and shirt- 
 maker, while a few doors away, in the bow-windowed house 
 which is still standing (No. 184, 185), lived the poet Drayton. 
 In a house close by, now demolished, Abraham Cowley was 
 born in 16 18, the son of a grocer, and studied, as a child, 
 the large copy of Spenser's " Faery Queene " which lay on 
 his mother's window-sill, till he became, as he himself nar- 
 rates — " irrecoverably a poet." 
 
 In St. Dunstan's Church, on the north side of the street, 
 Richard Baxter was preaching, when there arose an outcry 
 that the building was falling. He was silent for a moment, 
 and then said solemnly : " We are in God's service, to pre- 
 pare ourselves that we may be fearless at the great noise of 
 
i7 6 5- Dr. Johnson again. 385 
 
 the dissolving world, when the heavens shall pass away, and 
 the elements melt with fervent heat." Over the side entrance 
 of the church is a statue of Queen Elizabeth holding the orb 
 and sceptre, which is of much interest as having survived the 
 Great Fire of London, when the building in which it stood 
 was consumed, and as one of the few existing relics of the old 
 city gates, for it formerly adorned the west front of Ludgare, 
 one of the four ancient entrances to the city. 
 
 In Fetter Lane Dryden and Otway lived, and in Crane 
 Court was the home of the Royal Society. " Fleet Street," 
 says Hare, " is peculiarly associated with Dr. Johnson, who 
 admired it beyond measure. Walking one day with Boswell 
 on the beautiful heights of Greenwich Park, he asked, ' Is not 
 this very fine ? ' — ' Yes, sir, but not so fine as Fleet Street.' 
 'You are quite right, sir,' replied the great critic." 
 
 " Here we may fancy him as Miss Burney describes him — 
 ' tall, stout, grand, and authoritative, but stooping horribly, his 
 back quite round, his mouth continually opening and shutting, 
 as if he were chewing something ; with a singular method of 
 twirling and twisting his hands ; his vast body in constant 
 agitation, see-sawing backwards and forwards ; his feet never 
 a moment quiet, and his whole great person looking often as 
 if it were going to roll itself, quite voluntarily, from its chair 
 to the floor. ' There is no figure out of the past with which 
 we are able to be as familiar as we are with that of Samutl 
 Johnson ; his very dress is portrayed for us by Peter 
 Pindar : — 
 
 " ' Methinks I view his full, plain suit of brown, 
 The large gray bushy wig that graced his crown; 
 Black worsted stockings, little silver buckles, 
 And shirt that had no ruffles for his knuckles. 
 
 " ' I mark the brown greatcoat of cloth he wore, 
 That two huge Patagonian pockets bore ; 
 Which Patagonians (wondrous to unfold!) 
 Would fairly both his Dictionaries hold.'" 
 
 ^5 
 
386 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 At No. 1 7 Gough Square (a house still existing) his wife 
 died, and he wrote the greater part of his Dictionary and 
 began the " Rambler " and the " Idler." At No. 7 Johnson's 
 Court (not named after him) he lived from 1 765 to 1 776 ; and 
 after that he took up his abode at No. 8 Bolt Court (a house 
 burned down in 18 19), where he died. 
 
 Oliver Goldsmith lived at No. 6 Wine Office Court from 
 1760 to 1762, earning a precarious livelihood by writing for 
 the booksellers ; and a corner of the Cheshire Cheese Tavern 
 is pointed out in which he and Dr. Johnson used to sit. 
 
 At No. 106 Fleet Street, John Hardman sold an unusually 
 excellent snuff, and the great actors of the day gathered in 
 his shop and sat on his tobacco chests talking about the 
 latest plays. In Gunpowder Alley the Cavalier poet, Richard 
 Lovelace, died of starvation. 
 
 On the south side of the street, in the Alsatia which we 
 have already described, was Bridewell. It was founded, like 
 Christ's Hospital, by King Edward the Sixth, under the emo- 
 tion caused by a sermon on Christian charity which Bishop 
 Ridley had preached, and it was used as a refuge for deserted 
 children, long known as " Bridewell Boys." Gradually, from 
 a reformatory it became a prison, and the horrors of the 
 New Bridewell Prison are described by Ward in " The Lon- 
 don Spy." The prisoners, both men and women, were 
 flogged on the naked back, and the stripes only ceased when 
 the president, who sat with a hammer in his hand, let it fall 
 upon the block before him. " Oh, good Sir Robert, knock ! 
 Pray, Sir Robert, knock ! " became afterward often a cry 
 of reproach against those who had been imprisoned in 
 Bridewell. 
 
 The name of Bridewell comes from St. Bride's or St. Brid- 
 get's, — a holy spring with supposed miraculous powers. The 
 well is now a pump. St. Bride's Church was rebuilt by Wren 
 after the Fire, and stands at the end of a little entry at the 
 
i7 io. The Bells of St. Brides. 389 
 
 foot of Fleet Street. Its bells, put up in 1710, are dear to 
 the Londoner's soul. Wynkyn de Worde, the famous printer, 
 who rose under the patronage of the mother of Henry the 
 Seventh, and published no less than four hundred works, was 
 buried in the old church, which also contained the graves of 
 the poets Sackville (1608) and Lovelace (1658). 
 
 John Milton lived in a house adjoining the churchyard, 
 and at the entrance of the passage, down which the tower of 
 St. Bride's may be seen from Fleet Street, is the office of the 
 celebrated humorous journal, " Punch." From the eastern 
 end of Fleet Street, Ludgate Hill extends to St. Paul's Cathe- 
 dral ; and the splendid front and dome of that edifice seem 
 to reach the very sky. 
 
" Methought I sat in seat of majesty, 
 In the cathedral church of Westminster, 
 And in that Chair where kings and queens are crowned." 
 
 Henry the Sixth. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL AND WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 
 
 St. Paul's Cathedral stands upon a hill, and if the 
 London skies were clearer, its dome — one of the highest 
 in the world — would be visible many miles away. As it is, 
 the immense hemisphere can be seen, like a cloud, from the 
 hills of Hampstead and Highgate, and in the view from the 
 river it towers high above all the buildings that surround it. 
 It is hemmed in on all sides by shops and warehouses ; and 
 if we stand at the farthest side of the narrow little street that 
 borders it on the north, we have to throw our heads far back 
 on our shoulders in order to see its full height. 
 
 At one time, the site was said to have been occupied by a 
 temple dedicated to Diana ; but that statement is now dis- 
 credited, though the ground, in all probability, has been the 
 site of the chief religious edifice of London since the Saxon 
 period. The earliest church was built on this site by Ethel- 
 bert, the King of East Kent, and the first bishop who 
 preached within its walls was Mellitus, the companion of 
 Saint Augustine. 
 
 Some time after Mellitus, Saint Erkenwald had charge of the 
 church, and was buried in it. He often preached to the wood- 
 men in the forests that belted London, and on going forth one 
 day, a wheel of his vehicle came off in a slough, stopping bis 
 farther progress. Those who were looking for him would 
 have waited in vain had he been an ordinary man ; but be- 
 fore and after his death he worked many miracles ; and now 
 
392 Young Folks' History of Loudon. 
 
 the one wheel left became invested with special powers of 
 balancing, and it went on, with the smiling saint, as steadily 
 as a bicycle. After his death there was a contest for his 
 body between the monks of Chertsey and the clergy of St. 
 Paul's. The latter took it from the convent at Barking ; but 
 they were followed by the nuns and the monks, who prayed 
 that the River Lea would prevent them from crossing with 
 their sacred burden. The river rose in a flood, in response 
 to these supplications ; and it seemed that St. Paul's would 
 never enshrine its sainted bishop, for there was no boat and 
 no bridge. A pious man exhorted the monks to peace, how- 
 ever, and begged them to leave the matter to Heaven. The 
 clergy of the Cathedral then sang a litany, and the Lea at 
 once subsided, allowing them to ford it, and to carry the 
 remains to their sanctuary. From that time, it is said that 
 the shrine of Erkenwald became a source of wealth and 
 power to the Cathedral. 
 
 The Saxon kings were generous to St. Paul's, and William 
 the Conqueror freed the church from all payments and ser- 
 vices to the Crown. " I wish that this church may be free 
 in all things," he said, " as I wish my soul to be on the Day 
 of Judgment." 
 
 The original church was destroyed by fire in 1087, and was 
 replaced by a more splendid building, with a vast crypt, in 
 which the remains of Saint Erkenwald were enshrined. This 
 was nearly entirely burned down in the reign of King 
 Stephen, but it was gradually restored. Instead of a dome, 
 it now had a spire five hundred and twenty feet high, which 
 was partly destroyed by lightning in 1444. The Cathedral 
 itself was again partly burned, but was once more rebuilt, in 
 1566. 
 
 For centuries, the Cathedral had prominence in nearly all 
 the affairs of Church and State. . In it King John admitted 
 the supremacy of the Pope ; and it was the scene of one of 
 
1527 Burning the Bible. 395 
 
 those great meetings of Prelates and Barons that led to 
 King John's concession of Magna Charta. In it, also, John 
 Wickliffe appeared, attended by John of Gaunt, to answer a 
 charge of heresy ; and William Sawtre, the first English mar- 
 tyr, was stripped of his vestments before being sent to the 
 stake at Smithfield. Folkmotes were held in the Church- 
 yard, and more than one popular uprising had its centre 
 there. On Shrove Tuesday, 1527, the Protestant Bible was 
 publicly burned in St. Paul's by Cardinal Wolsey. 
 
 The mediaeval church was of great magnificence, and in 
 the interior was a vista of Gothic arches seven hundred feet 
 long. The walls were adorned by pictures, shrmes, and curi- 
 ously wrought tabernacles. Gold and silver, rubies, emer- 
 alds, and pearls glittered in splendid profusion, and the high 
 altar was loaded with gold and silver plate and illuminated 
 missals. 
 
 The church was crowded with monuments and relics, among 
 the last-named being the two arms of Milletus, — which, 
 strangely enough, were of different sizes. But the chief orna- 
 ment was the shrine of Erkenwald, upon which three gold- 
 smiths had worked for a year ; and the very dust around it 
 was said to work instantaneous cures. Attached to it was an 
 oblation-box ; and so many pence were deposited in this 
 receptacle that it produced an annual sum of about $45,000 
 for the benefit of the Dean and Chapter. There were other 
 things which drew forth the tribute of believers, — a knife 
 said to have belonged to the Saviour ; milk from the Virgin ; 
 the blood of Saint Paul ; the hand of Saint John ; the hair of 
 Mary Magdalene ; and the skull of Thomas a Becket. The 
 people were simple then, and their credulity exposed them 
 to very transparent deceptions. 
 
 Early in the sixteenth century the Cathedral was used for 
 secular purposes, and was, says Hare, an exchange rather 
 than a church. Allusions to it occur in Shakespeare, and 
 
396 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 some account of its condition has already been given by us 
 in Chapter IV. The chantry and other chapels were used 
 for stores and lumber — one as a school, and another as a 
 glazier's workshop ; some of the vaults were let out to a 
 carpenter, others were used as wine-cellars ; and the cloisters 
 were rented to trunkmakers, whose "knocking and noyse " 
 greatly disturbed the church service. Houses were built 
 against the outer walls, in which closets and window-ways 
 were made ; one house was used as a theatre, and in another 
 the owner baked his bread and pies in an oven excavated 
 within a buttress. For a trifling fee, the bell-ringers allowed 
 mischievous persons to ascend the tower and throw stones at 
 the passengers beneath. The Cathedral was, indeed, what 
 Barnum would call a " great consolidated show," and the 
 scene was like that at a fair. Feats of tight-rope dancing 
 were performed on the battlements of the Cathedral in the 
 presence of Edward the Sixth ; and Queen Mary, on the day 
 of her coronation, was a spectator at the performance of a 
 Dutchman who stood on the weather-cock of the steeple 
 waving a streamer five yards long. " Cheats, gulls, assassins, 
 and thieves thronged the middle aisle of St. Paul's," says 
 Thornbury in " Old and New London ; " " advertisements of 
 all kinds covered the walls ; the worst class of servants came 
 there to be hired ; worthless rascals and disreputable flaunt- 
 ing women met there by appointment. Parasites hunting for 
 a dinner hung about a monument of the Beauchamps, fool- 
 ishly believed to be the tomb of the good Duke Humphrey. 
 Shakespeare makes Falstaff hire red-nosed Bardolph in St. 
 Paul's, and Ben Jonson lays the third act of his ' Every 
 Man in his Humor ' in the middle aisle. Bishop Earle, in 
 his ' Microcosmography,' describes the noise of the crowd of 
 idlers in St. Paul's ' as that of bees, — a strange kind of hum, 
 mixed by walking tongues and feet, — a kind of still roar or 
 loud whisper.' He describes the crowd of young curates, 
 
1 620. An Attempted Restoration. 397 
 
 copper captains, thieves, and dinnerless adventurers and 
 gossip-mongers." 
 
 The reputed tomb of Duke Humphrey was the haunt 
 of needy men about town ; and hence it became cus- 
 tomary to say, when a man had gone without his dinner, that 
 he had taken it with Duke Humphrey. " It was the fashion 
 of the times," says an old writer, "for the principal gentry, 
 lords, commons, and all professions, not merely mechanick, 
 to meet in St. Paul's Church by eleven, and walk in the mid- 
 dle aisle till twelve, and after dinner from three to six, during 
 which time some discoursed of business, others of nevves." 
 
 Though the sacrilege was suppressed, the building re- 
 mained in a ruinous state, and in 1620 an attempt was made 
 to restore it under the direction of James the First ; but little 
 was done, and some stone which had been collected for the 
 repairs was "borrowed" by the King's favorite, the Duke of 
 Buckingham, who used it for his Strand palace, — a part of it 
 being devoted to the water-gate, which may still be seen in 
 the gardens of the Thames Embankment. 
 
 Under Charles the First more determined efforts were 
 made to restore the building, especially by Archbishop Laud, 
 and the King took an interest in the work, which was put into 
 the hands of Inigo Jones. While it was progressing, how- 
 ever, a storm was brewing that soon " whistled off the King's 
 unlucky head." A paper was found before the Archbishop's 
 house : " Laud, look to thyself! Be assured that thy life is 
 sought, as thou art the fountain of all wickedness." So the 
 message read, and soon afterward the Puritans declared 
 themselves. The money subscribed for the restoration of the 
 Cathedral was seized ; the scaffolding around the new tower 
 was pulled to pieces in order to raise cash for the payment of 
 a regiment ; the copes of the clergy were burned to extract 
 the gold, and the proceeds sent to the persecuted Protestant 
 poor in Ireland ; the silver vessels were sold to buy artillery 
 
398 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 for Cromwell ; the east end of the church was walled in for 
 a Puritan lecturer ; the graves were desecrated ; the choir 
 became a cavalry barracks ; the portico was rented to huck- 
 sters, who lodged in the rooms above ; and the pulpit was 
 destroyed. 
 
 Not until Charles the Second mounted his father's throne 
 did the great Cathedral receive any reverential care, and then 
 steps were taken for a complete renovation of the building ; 
 but while the plans were as yet undecided, the Great Fire 
 broke out and reduced St. Paul's to ashes. " It was aston- 
 ishing," says Evelyn, " to see what immense stones the heat 
 had in a manner calcined, so that the ornaments flew off, 
 even to the very roof, where a sheet of lead covering a great 
 space was totally melted." 
 
 Nearly eight years elapsed after the Fire before the ruins of 
 the old Cathedral were cleared from the site. Parts of the 
 walls were blown down with gunpowder, and some were 
 levelled by a battering-ram ; the stone being used to build 
 parish churches and to pave neighboring streets. The work 
 of reconstruction was given to the great architect, Sir Chris- 
 topher Wren, and on June 21, 1675, tne ^ rst stone of the new 
 St. Paul's was laid. 
 
 The building was completed in thirty-five years, and it is 
 this which we see to-day, — the third Cathedral which has 
 occupied the site ; the first having been that erected by 
 Ethelbert, and the second that which was erected after the 
 fire of 1087. The opening services (1697) were of thanks- 
 giving for the Peace of Ryswick, which seated William firmly 
 on the English throne ; and the text of the sermon was, " I 
 was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house 
 of the Lord." Ever since then, daily services have been 
 held in the church. 
 
 The cost of the building was nearly four million dollars, and . 
 it was paid by a tax on every chaldron of coal brought into 
 
1883. New St, Pauls. 399 
 
 London, so that it has been said that the smoky appearance 
 of the exterior is fully justified. The lower part of the ex- 
 terior is of the Corinthian style of architecture, while the 
 upper is composite. "The interior," says Hare, in his val- 
 uable handbook, " is not without a grandeur of its own ; but 
 in detail it is bare, cold, and uninteresting, though Wren 
 intended to have lined the dome with mosaics, and to have 
 placed a grand baldacchino in the choir. Though a com- 
 parison with St. Peter's inevitably forces itself upon those 
 who are familiar with the great Roman basilica, there can 
 scarcely be a greater contrast than between the two build- 
 ings. There, all is blazing with precious marbles ; here, 
 there is no color except from the poor glass of the eastern 
 windows, or where a tattered banner waves above a hero's 
 monument. In the blue depths of the misty dome the 
 London fog loves to linger, and hides the remains of some 
 feeble frescos by Thornhill, Hogarth's father-in-law." 
 
 It must be admitted, indeed, that while the proportions of 
 the Cathedral are magnificent, it does not gratify the eye 
 by the formal classicism of its architecture, as would the 
 fretted and enriched Gothic style. Had Wren's plans been 
 adhered to, the interior decorations would have been of rich 
 mosaic ; but he was interfered with, and inside the Cathedral, 
 as outside, the effect is chilly, and uninspiring to the imagina- 
 tion. 
 
 When eighty-six years old, Wren was dismissed without 
 apology from his post of Surveyor of Public Works, and the 
 German Court, hostile to all who had served under the 
 Stuarts, gave his place to a charlatan named Benson. Once 
 a year, however, the great architect was carried from his 
 house at Hampton Court to St. Paul's, that he might con- 
 template the chief work of his genius. His was the first 
 grave dug in the new St. Paul's, and it lies in the place of 
 honor in the extreme east of the crypt, bearing on it the 
 
400 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 words : " Reader, if thou wouldst search for his monument, 
 look around." 
 
 The clergy of St. Paul's were for a long time unwilling to 
 allow the erection of monuments in the Cathedral ; but their 
 opposition was at last overcome. The earliest statue ad- 
 mitted was that of Howard, the prison philanthropist, and the 
 second that of Dr. Johnson, who was buried at Westminster. 
 The next monument erected was that by Flaxman of Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds, and the fourth was of Sir William Jones, 
 who opened " the poetry and wisdom of our Indian empire 
 to wondering Europe." Henceforward the Cathedral was 
 set apart for memorials of naval and military heroes (with a 
 few exceptions, including J. M. W. Turner, the celebrated 
 landscape-painter) ; and in it we find monuments to Ad- 
 miral Rodney, Admiral Lord Lyons, Lord Nelson, Lord 
 Collingwood, Admiral Earl Howe, Admiral Charles Napier, 
 Captain Robert Morse, Captain Edmond Riou, General 
 Charles Napier, the Earl of St. Vincent, and the Duke of 
 Wellington. 
 
 The remains of Nelson are deposited under an altar-tomb 
 in the middle of the crypt. The sarcophagus was made by 
 order of Cardinal Wolsey, and from the time of that prelate 
 until the death of the famous Admiral it had been left unused 
 in the tomb-house adjoining St. George's Chapel, Windsor. 
 The coffin was made from part of the mainmast of the ship 
 " L'Orient," which was blown up at the Battle of the Nile. 
 Nelson's flag was to have been placed with it ; but just as the 
 coffin was about to be lowered, the sailors rent the flag 
 into pieces, and each kept a fragment. 
 
 In a huge sarcophagus resting on lions are the remains of 
 the Duke of Wellington, who was buried in presence of 
 fifteen thousand spectators ; and near by is the funeral car, 
 which was built, at a cost of $65,000, from guns taken in his 
 different campaigns. 
 
ST. PAUL'S, FROM THE RIVER. 
 
1883. Dimensions of St. Pauls. 403 
 
 A few words may be added about the dimensions of the 
 Cathedral. It is 2,292 feet in circumference, and the height 
 from the pavement of the nave to the top of the cross on the 
 dome is 365 feet. The length from east to west is 500 feet, 
 and from north to south 250 feet. The diameter of the 
 dome is 100 feet, and its length from the ground line is 215 
 feet. Around the interior of the dome, at its base, is a whis- 
 pering gallery, in which words spoken in the lowest tone of 
 voice may be heard from one side to the other with the 
 greatest distinctness ; and on the same level is the clock, with 
 a pendulum sixteen feet long. Above the whispering gallery 
 is the stone gallery, and higher still the golden gallery, to both 
 of which visitors are admitted. The highest accessible point 
 is the hollow ball, which is surmounted by the cross. This 
 is reached by 6 1 6 steps ; and when the air is clear the view 
 of the city from it is very impressive. 
 
 Westminster Abbey is not as harmonious a whole as St. 
 Paul's ; the latter, as we have seen, was built from the plans 
 of one man, and represents one period : it is, comparatively 
 speaking, a modern edifice, all vestiges of the original build- 
 ing, except a few monuments, having been destroyed in re- 
 peated fires. But the Abbey has been increased and renovated 
 at different times under the influence of different ideas. One 
 side of its exterior is nearly hidden ; and though the other 
 side has a more advantageous point of view than any part of 
 St. Paul's, yet it is in the interior that the full beauty of the 
 Abbey is revealed. No other sensation in the round of 
 travel can be compared, we think, to the thrill which a per- 
 son of English birth or of English descent must feel when 
 he reverentially stands in the soft twilight under the Gothic 
 arches. 
 
 Here nine centuries of English history are enshrined, and 
 the roof covers more immortal dust than any other in the 
 
404 Voting Folks' History of London. 
 
 whole world. Here, as Archdeacon (late. Canon) Farrar says, 
 " the Puritan divines thundered against the errors of Rome ; 
 here the Romish preachers anathematized the apostasies of 
 Luther. These walls have heard the voice of Cranmer as he 
 preached before the Boy- King on whom he rested the hopes of 
 the Reformation, and the voice of Feckenham as he preached 
 before Philip of Spain and Mary Tudor. They have heard 
 South shooting the envenomed arrows of his wit against the 
 Independents, and Baxter pleading the cause of toleration. 
 They have heard Bishop Bonner chanting the Mass in his 
 mitre, and Stephen Marshall preaching at the funeral of Pym. 
 Here Romish bishop and Protestant dean, who cursed each 
 other when living, lie side by side in death ; and Queen Eliza- 
 beth, who burned Papists, and Queen Mary, who burned 
 Protestants, share one quiet grave, as they once bore the 
 same uneasy crown." 
 
 Hung from the walls and pillars there are cards bearing 
 quotations from what celebrated people have said of the 
 Abbey ; and the greater the speaker or writer, the greater is 
 the appreciation shown of the deep and varied suggestiveness 
 of the great sanctuary. 
 
 Wordsworth has written : 
 
 " They dreamed not of a perishable home 
 Who thus could build. Be mine, in hours of fear 
 Or grovelling thought, to seek a refuge here, 
 And through the aisles of Westminster to roam, 
 Where bubbles burst, and folly's dancing foam 
 Melts, if it cross the threshold." 
 
 "On entering," says Irving, "the magnitude of the build- 
 ing breaks fully upon the mind. The eye gazes with wonder 
 at clustered columns of gigantic dimensions, with arches 
 springing from them to such an amazing height. It seems 
 as if the awful nature of the place presses down upon the 
 soul* and hushes the beholder into noiseless reverence. We 
 
CHAPEL OF HENRY VII.'S, WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 
 
1700. Addison's Essay on the Abbey. 407 
 
 feel that we are surrounded by the congregated bones of the 
 great men of past times, who have filled history with their 
 deeds, and earth with their renown." 
 
 Addison says, in a beautiful essay : " When I am in a 
 serious humor, I very often walk by myself in Westminster 
 Abbey, where the gloominess of the place, and the use to 
 which it is applied, with the solemnity of the building, and 
 the condition of the people who lie in it, are apt to fill the 
 mind with a kind of melancholy, or rather thoughtfulness, that 
 is not disagreeable. When I look upon the tombs of the great, 
 every notion of envy dies in me ; when I read the epitaphs 
 of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out ; when I 
 meet with grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts 
 with compassion ; when I see the tombs of the parents them- 
 selves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we 
 must quickly follow. When I see kings lying by the side of 
 those who deposed them ; when I consider rival wits placed 
 side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with 
 their contests and disputes, — I reflect with sorrow and aston- 
 ishment on the little competitions, factions, and debates of 
 mankind. When I read the several dates of the tombs, of 
 some that died yesterday, and some six hundred years ago, 
 I consider that Great Day when we shall all of us be contem- 
 poraries, and make our appearance together." 
 
 "The moment I entered Westminster Abbey," Edmund 
 Burke declared, " I felt a kind of awe pervade my mind 
 which I cannot describe ; the very silence seemed sacred." 
 
 Tickell the poet wrote : 
 
 " Oft let me range the gloomy aisles alone. 
 Sad luxury ! to vulgar minds unknown, 
 Along the walls where speaking marbles show 
 What worthies form the hallowed mould below ; 
 Proud names, who once the reins of empires held; 
 In arms who triumphed, or in arts excelled ; 
 
408 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 Chiefs, graced with scars, and prodigal of blood; 
 Stern patriots, who for sacred freedom stood ; 
 Just men, by whom impartial laws were given ; 
 And saints, who taught and led the way to heaven." 
 
 Referring to the fact that the coronation of the monarchs 
 of England takes place in the Abbey, Jeremy Taylor said : 
 "A man may read a sermon, the best and most passionate 
 that ever man preached, if he shall but enter into the sepul- 
 chres of kings. . . . Where our kings have been crowned, 
 their ancestors lie interred, and they must walk over their 
 grandsire's head to take his crown. There is an acre sown 
 with royal seed, the copy of the greatest change, from rich to 
 naked, from ceiled roofs to arched coffins, from living like 
 gods to die like men. There is enough to cool the flames of 
 lust, to abate the heights of pride, to appease the itch of cov- 
 etous desires, to sully and dash out the dissembling colors 
 of a lustful, artificial, and imaginary beauty. There the war- 
 like and the peaceful, the fortunate and the miserable, the 
 beloved and the despised princes mingle their dust, and pay 
 down their symbol of mortality, and tell all the world that, 
 when we die, our ashes shall be equal to kings', and our 
 accounts easier, and our pains or our crowns shall be less." 
 
 But more quotable than the rest is Washington Irving, from 
 whose essay we will make one more extract : " I wandered 
 among what once were chapels, but which are now occupied 
 by the tombs and monuments of the great. At every turn I 
 met with rare illustrious names, or the cognizance of some 
 powerful house renowned in history. As the eye darts into 
 these dusky chambers of death, it catches glimpses of quaint 
 effigies ; some kneeling in niches, as if in devotion ; others 
 stretched upon the tombs, with hands piously pressed to- 
 gether ; warriors in armor, as if reposing after battle ; prelates 
 with croziers and mitres ; and nobles in robes and coronets, 
 lying as it were in state. In glancing over this scene, so 
 
616. Foundation of the Abbey. 409 
 
 strangely populous, yet where every form is so still and silent, 
 it seems almost as if we were treading a mansion of that 
 fabled city where every being has been suddenly transmuted 
 into stone." 
 
 Opinion may be divided as to the taste of some of the 
 monuments or the worthiness of the persons commemorated ; 
 but the whole effect of the innumerable tombs, which are 
 nearly all associated with some form of distinction, and en- 
 shrine, as we have said, nine centuries of English history, 
 must stir even the dullest mind, and produce a vibration even 
 in the least impressionable of temperaments. 
 
 When the first church was built, the site was almost insu- 
 lated by the Thames and a little stream, the Eye (now a 
 sewer) , which gave its name to Tyburn : it was called Thor- 
 ney Island, or the Isle of Thorns. The builder was Sebert, 
 King of the East Saxons, who died in 616, after having been 
 baptized by Milletus, the Bishop of St. Paul's. According to 
 a legend, Edric, a fisherman, was watching his nets on the 
 shore of the island on the Sunday night preceding the day 
 on which Milletus was to consecrate the church. While thus 
 engaged he saw a light on the opposite shore, and on ap- 
 proaching it, found an old man who desired to be ferried 
 across the stream. Arriving at the island, the mysterious 
 stranger landed, and proceeded to the church, calling up on 
 his way, by two blows of his staff, two springs of water, which 
 still exist. Then a host of angels miraculously appeared, and 
 held candles, which lighted him as he went through all the 
 usual forms of a church consecration, while throughout the ser- 
 vice other angels were seen ascending and descending over 
 the church, as in Jacob's vision. When the old man returned 
 to the boat, he bade Edric tell Mellitus that the church was 
 already consecrated by Saint Peter, who held the keys of 
 heaven, and promised that a plentiful supply of fish would 
 never fail him as a fisherman if he ceased to work on a Sun- 
 
410 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 day, and did not forget to bear to the church a tithe of that 
 which he caught. 
 
 On the following day, when Mellitus came to consecrate 
 the church, Edric presented himself and told his story, show- 
 ing, in proof of it, the marks of consecration in the traces of 
 the chrism, the crosses on the doors, and the droppings 
 of the angelic candles. The Bishop acknowledged that his 
 work had been already done by saintly hands, and changed 
 the name of the place from Thorney to Westminster (min- 
 ster west of St. Paul's, which was once known as East min- 
 ster) ; and in remembrance of the story of Edric a tithe of 
 fish was paid by the Thames fishermen to the Abbey, till 
 1382, the bearer having a right to sit that day at the prior's 
 table, and to ask for bread and ale from the cellarman. 
 
 Sebert's church, though not completed for three hundred 
 and sixty-one years, was in a decayed condition when Ed- 
 ward the Confessor erected in its place a church and abbey 
 much finer than any that had yet been in England, and 
 gave to it a golden crown and sceptre to be used on the day 
 of the sovereign's coronation, — a ceremony which, from the 
 time of Edward the First to that of Queen Victoria has al- 
 ways taken place here. The church was dedicated on Dec. 
 28, 1065, and the Confessor, who died eight days afterward, 
 was buried in front of the high altar at his own request. 
 Nothing of this building now remains except the Chapel of 
 the Pyx, the lower part of the Refectory underlying the 
 Westminster schoolroom, part of the Dormitory, and the whole 
 of the lower walls of the South cloister ; but the Bayeux tap- 
 estry still shows us in outline the church of the Confessor as 
 it was when in its glory. 
 
 The church was rebuilt by Henry the Third, and by him 
 the tomb of the Confessor was removed to its present shrine 
 in 1269. The parts of the present building built by him are 
 the Confessor's chapel, the side aisles and their chapels, and 
 
WESTMINSTER PALACE. 
 
1502. Chapel of Henry the Seventh. 413 
 
 the choir and transepts. The work of Henry was continued 
 by his son, Edward the First, who built the eastern portion 
 of the nave ; and it was carried on by different abbots till the 
 great west window was erected by Abbot Estney in 1498. 
 Meantime Abbot Littlington, in 1380, had added the College 
 Hall, the Abbot's House, Jerusalem Chamber, and part of the 
 cloisters. In 1502 Henry the Seventh pulled down the Lady 
 Chapel, and built his beautiful perpendicular chapel instead. 
 The western towers were completed, in 1 714, by Sir Christo- 
 pher Wren, under whose direction the exterior was altered in 
 some of its details. But the outward aspect of the Abbey is 
 much as it was in the time of Henry the Seventh. 
 
 The general plan of the church is cruciform, and it con- 
 tains twelve chapels. For centuries it has been a custom to 
 erect some memorial to great Englishmen here, even when 
 their remains have been buried elsewhere ; and the roof 
 covers hundreds of monuments, some merely life-sized busts, 
 and others elaborate sculptured allegories. Archdeacon Far- 
 rar says that all these allegorical designs seem to him to be 
 smitten with the fatal blight of unreality. "It is obvious that 
 the sculptors and designers were chiefly occupied with a sense 
 of their own ingenuity, instead of being inspired by the gran- 
 deur of their subjects. Yet we should always bear in mind 
 that even the worst monument in the Abbey has its historical 
 significance. Its allegories, its ugliness, its obtrusiveness, are 
 like tide-marks which indicate the height or the depth to 
 which the taste of the age had risen or sunk. 
 
 " How deep, for instance, is the significance of the fact 
 that as age after age advances, the tombs seem to grow more 
 and more worldly, less and less religious. They seem more 
 and more to thrust on our notice the pomposities of life, and 
 less and less the awful stillness and humiliation of death. The 
 tombs of the Plantagenet kings and crusaders represent 
 them lying in death with the hands clasped in prayer across 
 
414 Young Folks'" History of London. 
 
 the breast. But as time advances, the effigies gradually rise 
 to their knees, then to their feet. Then they deal in stately 
 or impassioned gesticulation, like Pitt and Chatham. At last 
 they seem to have lost the last touch of awful reverence, and, 
 like Wilberforce, with a broad smile upon their lips, they loll 
 in marble upon their easy chairs." 
 
 The number of monuments in the Abbey is bewildering ; 
 and they are so crowded together that they prevent a com- 
 prehensive view of the building, and divert the eye from its 
 splendid proportions to their own details. The nave, choir, 
 and transepts are open, and not greatly encumbered ; but 
 the entire eastern end of the Abbey is walled and subdi- 
 vided into small chapels, rich in architecture,, and incom- 
 parable in historic interest. 
 
 Nothing is more impossible than an attempt to see this 
 great sanctuary in one visit, which can only lead to perplexity 
 and misunderstandings. One day at least should be given 
 to a general survey of the building, and several days may be 
 profitably devoted to the various monuments ; but a full 
 appreciation of the Abbey requires many unhurried visits. It 
 is in sitting down alone, or in quietly passing from tomb to 
 tomb and monument to monument, with a mind refreshed 
 by historic readings, that one grows attached to the place, 
 perceives its beauties, and feels its meaning. " Three visits 
 may enable one to see Westminster Abbey," says Hare ; "but 
 it requires many more than three visits to know it." 
 
 The ground of the chapels is mixed with little else than 
 royal dust. Between the chapel of St. Benedict and that of 
 St. Edmund is the tomb of four of the children of Henry the 
 Third. In St. Edmund's chapel itself is the tomb or me- 
 morial of Eleanor de Bohun, Duchess of Gloucester, wife of 
 Thomas of Woodstock, youngest son of Edward the Third ; 
 of William de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, half brother of 
 Henry the Third; of Lord Lytton, the novelist; of Lady 
 
1883. Tlu Waxworks. 415 
 
 Jane Seymour ; of William of Windsor, and of Blanche of 
 the Tower, the infant children of Edward the Third ; of John 
 of Eltham, Earl of Cornwall, second son of Edward the 
 Third ; and of Frances Grey, Duchess of Suffolk, niece of 
 Henry the Eighth, at whose funeral the Protestant service 
 was first used, after the accession of Queen Elizabeth. The 
 chapel of St. Nicholas is filled with Elizabethan tombs, 
 and is the especial burial-place of the Percys. In the 
 centre is the tomb of Sir George Villiers and his wife, 
 parents of the first Duke of Buckingham ; and close beside 
 this lies the body of Queen Katharine of Valois, the spouse 
 of Henry the Fifth, who is said to have been received in 
 England " as an angel of God," though her life afterward 
 was obscure and unhappy. The ambulatory opposite this 
 chapel is bordered by the tomb of Edward the Third and 
 the chantry of Henry the Fifth. St. Paul's chapel contains 
 the tomb of Sir Thomas Bromley, Queen Elizabeth's chan- 
 cellor, and of Lord Bourchier, standard-bearer to Henry the 
 Fifth at Agincourt ; in contrast to the mediaeval beauty of 
 which is a modern statue of James Watt. The chapel of St. 
 John the Baptist, which has a groined roof, a colored end- 
 wall, and a sculptured arcade, contains the altar-tomb of 
 William of Colchester, and the effigy is adorned with gold 
 bracelets, precious stones, and a mitre covered with large 
 pearls. 
 
 From this point we can see the north transept and the north 
 aisles of the choir and nave, and the twilight is pierced by the 
 splendors of many lancet-windows. In the chapel of Abbot 
 Islip is an effigy of that dignitary in his winding-sheet, and in 
 the same neighborhood are several elaborate tombs. In a gal- 
 lery over the chapel there is a curious collection of waxwork. 
 
 For many centuries it was the custom at state funerals to 
 expose to view in the procession a wax effigy of the deceased 
 clad in the garments worn by him during life. When the 
 
41 6 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 coffin had been deposited in the vault, the effigy was placed 
 either over the tomb as a temporary substitute for the stone 
 monument, or in some other convenient spot. 
 
 Several of these effigies are preserved in the chamber over 
 Abbot Islip's chapel. One is of Queen Elizabeth, with pale, 
 hawk-like features. She is attired in an extravagantly long- 
 waisted dress, and springing from the bodice is a pair of 
 immense paniers supporting a velvet robe covered with gold 
 embroidery and trimmed with minever ; around the neck is a 
 spreading ruff stiffened with wire, and from this the long 
 straight, stiff bodice descends, made stiffer and heavier by a 
 mass of rich silver embroidery. A wax effigy of Charles the 
 Second greatly resembles the portrait of that monarch by 
 Lely. It is clad in red and blue velvet, much faded, and on 
 the head is a feathered hat. 
 
 The chamber also contains effigies of William and Mary, 
 Queen Anne, a Duchess of Richmond, a Duke of Buck- 
 ingham, Lord Chatham, and Lord Nelson. The custom, 
 which was vulgarly called " The Play of the Dead Volks," 
 was not discontinued until 1839. 
 
 Near the chapel of Islip is the beautiful chantry of Henry 
 the Fifth and the tomb of Philippa of Hainault, Queen of 
 Edward the Third ; Edward himself is also buried here under 
 a sculptured mass of stone and metal, with " the monumental 
 sword that conquered France " by his side. 
 
 We have yet to speak of the two principal chapels. Henry 
 the Seventh's chapel has been the burial-place of nearly all 
 the sovereigns, from him whose name it bears, to George the 
 Second. It is declared to be the first example of the per- 
 pendicular style of architecture in England, and an enthusiast 
 has called it the "miracle of the world." "The very walls," 
 says Irving, " are wrought into universal ornament, encrusted 
 with tracery, and scooped into niches crowded with statues of 
 saints and martyrs. Stone seems by the cunning labor of the 
 
5°- 
 
 CJiapel of Henry the Seventh. 
 
 417 
 
 chisel to have been robbed of its weight and density, sus- 
 pended aloft as if by magic, and the fretted roof achieved with 
 the wonderful minuteness and airy security of a cobweb." 
 The brass gates are adorned with all the badges of the 
 
 THE CORONATION-CHAIR. 
 
 founder : the fleur-de-lis, the portcullis and crown, the united 
 roses of York and Lancaster, and the three lions of England. 
 This chapel contains no less than seventy-three statues, and 
 in every direction the ornamentation is profuse. 
 
41 8 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 The tomb of the King and his Queen, Elizabeth of York, by 
 whose marriage the long-continued feud between the Houses 
 of York and Lancaster was ended, is chiefly of black marble 
 surrounded by pilasters, statuettes, and alto-relievos of gilt 
 copper. In the same vault rests the body of James the First ; 
 and close by it is the tomb of the learned boy-king, Edward 
 the Sixth, who died when only fifteen years old. The stalls 
 of the Knights of the Bath are around the chapel, and in the 
 centre is the vault wherein George the Second and Queen 
 Caroline are buried, side by side with the Princess of Wales, 
 two Dukes of Cumberland, the Duke of York, Prince Fred- 
 erick William, and the Princesses Amelia, Caroline, Elizabeth, 
 Louisa, and Anne. Here also is the tomb of Queen Mary 
 and Queen Elizabeth, of Edward the Fifth and his brother 
 (the two princes murdered in the Tower by order of Richard 
 the Third), of Charles the Second, of Mary Queen of Scots, 
 of William and Mary, of Queen Anne, and of many other 
 royal persons of less note. Inappropriately placed among 
 these is the tomb of Joseph Addison, the poet and essayist. 
 
 No words can give an idea of the luxuriance of the sculp- 
 ture. The walls and the roof are embossed with carvings in 
 stone, — ■ knots of flowers, pendants, and armorial bearings ; 
 and over all these the jewelled windows throw their rainbow 
 hues. 
 
 Oliver Cromwell and his lieutenants were once buried 
 among the kings whose successor they had usurped ; but at 
 the Restoration their bodies were exhumed and their places 
 taken by some of the illegitimate children of the dissolute 
 Charles the Second. 
 
 When Edward the Confessor was buried he had his crown 
 upon his head, his pilgrim's ring upon his finger, and a gold 
 chain and crucifix around his neck. The body was seen with 
 these accoutrements by Henry the First and Henry the Sec- 
 ond ; and they were not removed until the coronation of 
 
1422. Tomb of Henry the Fifth, 419 
 
 James the Second, when they were presented to that King. 
 One end of the shrine was for some time left open, so that 
 sick persons might creep through to benefit by touching the 
 coffin ; but the body is now shut within a shrine of marble 
 and mosaic. By the side of Edward lies his wife Edith, the 
 sister of Harold, and near the steps by which his shrine is 
 reached is the tomb of Henry the Third ; while close by is 
 the tomb of Edward the First and of Eleanor his wife, mother 
 of Edward the Second. 
 
 The next tombs are those of Edward the Third and Rich- 
 ard the Second ; and at the eastern end of the Confessor's 
 Chapel is the splendid tomb of Henry the Fifth, shaped to 
 resemble the first letter of his name, and adorned to repre- 
 sent the glories of Westminster in the persons of its two 
 founders, and the glories of the two kingdoms which the 
 victor of Agincourt had united, — England and France. 
 Among the heraldic emblems on the tomb is the flaming 
 beacon which he took for a badge, " showing," says an old 
 writer, " that he had shaken off his evil counsellors, and 
 being now on his high imperial throne, that his virtues should 
 shine as the light of a cresset, which is no ordinary light." 
 
 Over the tomb were hung his shield, his helmet, and his 
 saddle. "The shield has lost its splendor, but is still there," 
 says Dean Stanley. " The saddle is that on which he 
 
 'Vaulted with such ease into his seat, 
 As if an angel dropped down from the clouds, 
 To witch the world with noble horsemanship.' 
 
 The helmet, — which from its elevated position has almost 
 become a part of the architectural outline of the Abbey, and 
 on which many a Westminster boy has wonderingly gazed 
 from his place in the choir — is in all probability ' that very 
 casque that did affright the air at Agincourt,' which twice 
 saved his life on that eventful day — still showing in its dints 
 the marks of the ponderous sword of the Duke of Alengon — ■ 
 
420 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 1 the bruised helmet/ which he refused to have borne in state 
 before him on his triumphal entry into London, ' for that he 
 would have the praise chiefly given to God.' " 
 
 In front of the screen, facing the foot of St. Edward's 
 shrine, stand the coronation chairs, which at coronations 
 are moved to the middle of the chancel. One of them, 
 scratched and battered by irreverent visitors, is the chair dec- 
 orated for Edward the First. In it was enclosed by Edward 
 the Third (1328) the famous prophetic or fatal stone of 
 Scone, on which the Scottish kings were crowned, and with 
 which the destinies of the Scottish rule were believed to be 
 inwoven. The legend of the stone relates that it was the 
 pillow on which the Patriarch Jacob slept at Bethel when he 
 saw the vision of the ladder reaching to heaven. 
 
 The stone was brought to England by Edward the First, 
 and is inserted beneath the seat of the chair, with an iron 
 handle on either side, so that it may be lifted up. The chair 
 is of oak, and was once entirely covered with gilding and 
 painting, now worn away with time and injured by the nails 
 which have been driven in when it has been covered with 
 cloth of gold at the coronations. In this chair all the kings 
 of England since the time of Edward the First have been 
 crowned, and even Cromwell was installed in it as Lord Pro- 
 tector in Westminster Hall, on the one occasion on which it 
 was carried out of the church. 
 
 The second chair was made for the coronation of Mary the 
 Second, and has been used ever since for the royal consort. 
 
 In describing the chapels, we have only mentioned the 
 most prominent monuments, and the limits of our space com- 
 pel us to pass by without even a word all except the most 
 notable memorials in the other parts of the Abbey, though at 
 every step we are reminded of the heroes of great wars, of 
 the explorers of untrodden lands, of the discoverers of natural 
 laws, of poets, philanthropists, and divines, of the men' who 
 
1883. A Group of Literary Tombs. 421 
 
 have carved their names on the tablets of English history, and 
 worn the laurel of fame on their brows. In the south transept 
 is Poet's Corner, which is as rich in its tombs and monuments 
 of authors as Henry the Seventh's chapel is of kings. Here 
 is the tomb of Chaucer, of Cowley, and of Spenser among the 
 earlier ones, while conspicuous among the tombs of our own 
 times is the brass-lettered stone which lies over the resting-place 
 of Charles Dickens. In Poet's Corner also are monuments to 
 Dryden, Drayton, Milton, Butler, Ben Jonson, Shakespeare, 
 Gray, Shadwell, Thomson, Goldsmith, and Thackeray. It has 
 been truly said that the " visitors linger about these memorials 
 as about the tombs of friends. A kinder and fonder feeling 
 takes the place of that cold Cuiiosity or vague admiration 
 with which they gaze on the splendid monuments of the great 
 and heroic." Henry the Fifth and Henry the Seventh, mag- 
 nificent as their shrines are, do not reach the heart ; but the 
 author of " Paradise Lost " and the author of the " Elegy " 
 might have been friends who died yesterday, they seem so 
 intimate. 
 
 In the south transept is the grave of Richard Cumberland, 
 of Sheridan, of Dr. Johnson, and of David Garrick ; while 
 elsewhere in the building are the tombs or monuments (among 
 others of equal or greater interest) of William Congreve, Sir 
 Isaac Newton, Lord Chief Justice Mansfield, Mrs. Siddons, 
 Lord Macaulay, Warren Hastings, William Pitt, Charles James 
 Fox, George Canning, William W T ilberforce, George Fred- 
 erick Handel, General Wolfe, Sir Humphry Davy, Sir John 
 Franklin, Lord Palmerston, Sir Robert Peel, and Richard 
 Cobden. 
 
 At the left of the gates entering into the chapels is the tomb 
 of King Sebert, who built the earliest church on the site of 
 the Abbey. 
 
 The actual traces which have been left by the American 
 Revolutionary War on the walls of the Abbey are few. Says 
 
422 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 Archdeacon Farrar : " Burgoyne, whose surrender at Saratoga 
 lost America to England, lies buried, not in the Abbey, but 
 in the north cloister, without a monument. A small tablet in 
 the southern aisle records the shipwreck and death of William 
 Wragg, who, as his epitaph tells us, alone remained faithful 
 to his country and loyal to his King, and was consequently 
 obliged to escape from Carolina. 
 
 " The most marked trace of the war is to be seen in the 
 monument of Major Andre; and the fact that in 1812 An- 
 dre's body was sent back to England by the Americans, with 
 every mark of courtesy and respect, shows how rapidly all 
 traces of exasperation were obliterated between brother na- 
 tions. There are several other objects which will remind 
 Americans of their country. One is the beautiful window in 
 honor of Herbert and Cowper at the western end of the 
 nave, in the old baptistery, which was the munificent gift of 
 an American citizen. The other is some faint adumbration 
 of Boston Harbor, which may be seen at the opposite end 
 of the Abbey, the east end of Henry the Seventh's chapel, at 
 the corner of the memorial window raised by the late Dean to 
 the memory of his wife, Lady Augusta Stanley. A third is the 
 tomb in the nave which was raised to Viscount Howe by the 
 Province of Massachusetts. The genius of Massachusetts 
 is represented weeping over the monument. Ticonderoga 
 appears on the monument of Colonel Townsend. 
 
 " The touching bas-relief to Andre* represents on one side a 
 British officer who is carrying a flag of truce and a letter to 
 the tent of General Washington, with the entreaty of Andre 
 that, as a soldier, he might be shot and not hung. One of 
 the American officers is weeping. The request was refused ; 
 but as it would have been too painful to represent Andre's 
 death on the gibbet, the sculptor has represented his youthful 
 and handsome figure standing at the right of the bas-relief 
 before a platoon of soldiers, as though his petition had in 
 
1780; 
 
 Major Andre s Tomb. 
 
 423 
 
 reality been granted. The sculptor Van Gelder has been 
 very successful ; but the heads of Washington and Andre 
 have several times been knocked off and stolen by base 
 and sacrilegious hands." 
 
 Here we must close. Macaulay has called the Abbey " the 
 temple of silence and reconciliation, where the enmities of 
 twenty generations lie buried ; " and we can think of no more 
 fitting words than his. 
 
 ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL. 
 
WESTMINSTER. 
 
 But that which makes her name through earth to ring 
 She is the chamber of our gracious King, 
 The place in which the Parliament doeth sit 
 For to determine things most requisite." 
 
 Old Ballad. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. 
 
 Any one who knows the history of the British constitution, 
 and how jealously it is guarded ; how flexible and yet consis- 
 tent it is ; how effectually it secures the liberty and dignity of 
 the subject ; how precious it is to all classes ; and the long 
 years of political strife of which it is the fruition, — must feel 
 a thrill as, coming down through Whitehall from that busy 
 centre of London, Charing Cross, he stands for the first time 
 before the Houses of Parliament. 
 
 The buildings themselves are of great beauty and size, cov- 
 ering nearly eight acres. They are in the Tudor- Gothic 
 style, and their outlines are so broken and relieved by towers, 
 spires, buttresses, and fretted masonry, that they have no 
 appearance of cumbrousness. Abutting on them is the 
 famous Abbey ; before them is Westminster Hall ; and at the 
 northern end is the great Clock Tower, in which the hours are 
 struck on a bell that can be heard eight miles away. But it 
 is not the buildings that appeal to our veneration. It is the 
 principles and the history with which they are associated. 
 They bring to mind and seem to embody the long chain of 
 events by which the character of the government has been 
 formed, and by which the supremacy of the Crown has been 
 adjusted to permit the sovereignty of the people. 
 
 They cover the site of the palace which the ancient sover- 
 eigns of England occupied from early Anglo-Saxon times till 
 Henry the Eighth took up his abode at Whitehall. The ori- 
 ginal palace, in which King Canute lived, is said to have been 
 
426 Young- Folks History of London. 
 
 burned to the ground some thirty years before the Conquest ; 
 but it was rebuilt by Edward the Confessor, and in it he 
 entertained his destined successor, the Duke of Normandy, 
 who was to become known in England as William the Con- 
 queror. Edward died in it, and William added to it ; for it is 
 not to be doubted, says Stow, " that he found it farre inferioui 
 to the building of princely palaces in France." King William 
 Rufus also enlarged it by adding a great hall to it, and de- 
 clared that this would be only a bed-chamber compared with 
 a hall which he would build later. But notwithstanding his 
 boast, the palace was soon afterward allowed to fall into 
 decay, and early in the reign of Henry the Second it was 
 almost a ruin. 
 
 It was then restored by Thomas a Becket. King Stephen 
 had some years before built a magnificent chapel in connection 
 with the palace, and dedicated it to the martyr whose name 
 he bore. The chapel was rebuilt by Edward the First, and 
 again, after it had been burned, by Edward the Second and 
 Edward the Third. Henry the Eighth added to the palace 
 and chapel the Star Chamber, — so called from the use of gilt 
 stars in the decoration of the ceiling ; but in his reign the pal- 
 ace itself was partly destroyed by fire, and it was abandoned 
 as a royal residence. In the reign of Edward the Sixth the 
 chapel was fitted up for the use of the House of Commons ; 
 and that branch of the legislature sat here from 1547 to 1834, 
 while the House of Lords occupied an adjoining building, 
 which was destroyed in the fire of 1834 with all that re- 
 mained of the ancient palace, the Star Chamber, and the 
 chapel, except the crypt of the latter and the great Hall built 
 by William Rufus and restored by Richard the Second. 
 
 The great Hall now forms one of the entrances to the new 
 Houses of Parliament, and it is much as it was when Richard 
 restored it, and the poet Chaucer was clerk of the palace 
 works. 
 

 k 
 
 w 
 
 I 
 
 ■pl&W*. 
 
 THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. 
 
 W. E. GLADSTONE. 
 
1 649. Arraignment of Charles the First. 429 
 
 Much of the ecclesiastical history of England may be gath- 
 ered from the annals of St. Paul's Cathedral and Westminster 
 Abbey ; much of the social history from study of the parks 
 and streets ; and all researches into the political history of 
 the kingdom must lead the seeker after knowledge into 
 Westminster Hall. In the yard in front of the Hall Perkin 
 Warbeck was imprisoned in the stocks for a day, and Thomas 
 Lovelace had his ears cut off by order of the Star Chamber — 
 that terrible court, in which justice was violated and mercy 
 was unknown. Here offenders were exposed in the pillory to 
 the gibes of the crowd, and the branding-irons were pressed 
 against their twitching faces. The Hall itself has been the 
 scene of more tragedies than any other building in England 
 except the Tower of London. Under its roof Sir William 
 Wallace was condemned to death in 1305, and Sir John Old- 
 castle in 141 7; Edward Stafford, Duke of Buckingham, in 
 1522; Sir Thomas More in 1535, and in the same year 
 Fisher, Bishop of Rochester ; Protector Somerset in 1551 ; 
 Sir Thomas Wyatt in 1554; the Duke of Norfolk in 15 71 ; 
 the Earl of Arundel in 1589; the Earl of Essex in 1600; 
 the Gunpowder Plot conspirators in 1606 ; the Duke and 
 Duchess of Somerset for the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury 
 in 1 616 ; and the Earl of Strafford in 1640. 
 
 In Westminster Hall, also, Charles the First was arraigned : 
 " During the reading of the charge the King," says an old 
 history of the trial, " sat entirely unmoved in his chair, look- 
 ing sometimes to the Court and sometimes to the galleries. 
 Occasionally he rose up and turned about, to behold the 
 guards and spectators, and then sat down again ; but with a 
 majestical composed countenance, unruffled by the slightest 
 emotion, till the clerk came to the words : Charles Stuart, as 
 a tyrant, traitor, murderer. At which the King laughed, as he 
 sat, in the face of the Court. The silver head of his staff hap- 
 pened to fall off, at which he appeared surprised. Herbert, 
 
430 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 who stood near him, offered to pick it up ; but Charles, seeing 
 he could not reach it, stooped for it himself. When the 
 words were read stating the charge to be exhibited ' on behalf 
 of the people of England,' a voice in a loud tone called out, 
 ' No, nor the half of the people ; it is false ! Where are they 
 or their consents ? Oliver Cromwell is a traitor ! ' This 
 occasioned a confusion in the Court ; Colonel Axtell even 
 commanded the soldiers to fire into the box from which the 
 voice proceeded. But it was soon discovered that these 
 words, as well as a former exclamation on the calling of Fair- 
 fax's name, were uttered by Lady Fairfax, the general's wife, 
 who was immediately compelled by the guard to withdraw." 
 
 Cromwell was inaugurated at Westminster Hall in 1657; 
 but afterward, when Charles " the Second was restored to the 
 throne, that king set the heads of the Lord Protector, Brad- 
 shaw, and Ireton on the roof of this building, in which, through 
 their instrumentality, his father had been condemned to 
 death. 
 
 A writer in the London "Times" of Dec. 31, 1874, 
 stated that the head of Cromwell was then in existence 
 and in the possession of a gentleman at Sevenoaks, Kent. 
 According to his account it was not blown down for twenty- 
 five years, when one stormy night it fell to the ground and 
 was picked up by the sentry, who took it home and secreted 
 it in the chimney-corner. On his deathbed the sentry 
 revealed his ghastly possession to the members of his family, 
 and they sold it. It afterward passed through the hands of 
 several curiosity-hunters, who bought it for public exhibition ; 
 and eventually it became the property of the present owner. 
 
 The last great trial in the Hall was that of Warren Hastings, 
 which lasted seven years. Westminster Hall has other asso- 
 ciations than its trials, however. In it Henry the Third saw 
 the Archbishop and Bishops hurl their lighted torches upon 
 the ground, and call down anathemas upon those who should 
 
I0S7-IS20. 
 
 Coronation Ceremonies. 
 
 431 
 
 break the charter he had sworn to observe. Here Edward 
 the Third received the Black Prince when the latter re- 
 turned to England with King John of France as a prisoner 
 after the Battle of Poitiers. Hither came the English Barons 
 with the Duke of Gloucester to denounce Robert de Vere, 
 Duke of Ireland, to Richard the Second ; and here, when 
 
 OLD WESTMINSTER HALL. 
 
 Richard abdicated, Henry Bolingbroke claimed the realm of 
 England as descended by right line of blood from Henry the 
 Third. 
 
 Westminster Hall was the scene of all the Coronation ban- 
 quets from the time of William Rufus to that of George the 
 Fourth. On these occasions the gates were suddenly flung 
 open, and, amid a blare of trumpets, the Royal Champion 
 rode into the Hall in full armor. Hurling his mailed gaunt- 
 
432 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 let upon the ground, he defied to single combat any person 
 who should gainsay the rights of the sovereign. This chal- 
 lenge having been thrice repeated as the Champion ad- 
 vanced up the Hall, the Sovereign pledged him in a silver 
 cup, which was afterward presented to him. 
 
 Adjoining the Hall until recently were the principal Law 
 Courts ; but all these are now established in the new Palace 
 of Justice, near the site of Temple Bar. South of the Hall is 
 Old Palace Yard, in which Sir Walter Raleigh and Guy Fawkes, 
 with his fellow conspirators, were executed. In houses front- 
 ing the Yard, Chaucer lived and Ben Jonson died. 
 
 Let us now look at the Houses of Parliament, which are in 
 the new palace, — the splendid Gothic building which was 
 begun in 1840 and completed in 1859. The main public 
 entrance, as we have said, is through Westminster Hall. 
 
 Though in spirit and intention the House of Commons is 
 modern, it holds to many ancient and inconvenient customs 
 in transacting its business, and to an American some of the 
 formalities are likely to be amusing when the awe of his first 
 impression has worn off. The incongruity of these hereditary 
 observances becomes all the more striking as it is mixed with 
 an occasional levity of behavior and a boyishness of antics 
 among the members which probably would not be tolerated 
 by any other legislative body in the world. But the Com- 
 mons have many privileges. The public cannot demand a 
 place in their assemblies ; and though a spectator may be 
 admitted by courtesy, he can be expelled at any moment by 
 the vote of the House. 
 
 The House is chary of its favors, and the space for visitors 
 is small, admission to it being obtained either through a 
 Member of Parliament, or the ambassadors of foreign courts. 
 Having secured the much-coveted pass, we cross the Pal- 
 ace Yard and enter Westminster Hall, at the end of which 
 we enter a corridor decorated with large frescos, and at 
 
1883. The House of Commons. 433 
 
 a glass door a policeman accosts us, to inquire whether we 
 have a pass to the gallery. This is the end of the tether as 
 far as the unfavored public is concerned ; but our pass admits 
 us through the door into a lofty rotunda, where, if any grati- 
 fication is to be had from the experience, we may mingle 
 with the chosen representatives of the English people. 
 
 Our pass is again scrutinized by an officious door-keeper 
 sitting in a wicker chair, who has held his position so long ? 
 and has been so humored by the members, that he carries 
 himself with greater self-exaltation than any of them. By 
 him the pass is sent to the Sergeant-at-Arms, who counter- 
 signs it; and when we have presented it to another door- 
 keeper, we are shown into a narrow, winding, prison-like 
 stairway, with stone steps and walls, at the head of which we 
 come into the Gallery of the House itself. 
 
 The building is not as well lighted, nor as well ventilated, 
 nor as large, nor as well adapted to its purpose, as are the 
 Chambers of Congress at Washington ; but the effect upon 
 the visitor is more impressive. The light becomes mellow in 
 pouring through the Gothic windows and their colored bor- 
 ders, in which the motto is repeated, Dieu et mon Droit. 
 The upholstery is of a dark material, and the ceiling, all 
 the woodwork, and the walls, are dark also, as in a very old 
 church. The building, in form and atmosphere, indeed, is 
 strongly ecclesiastical. It is nearly square. All the floor is 
 reserved for the officers of the House and the members, who 
 sit on long cushioned benches, that extend parallel along 
 the hall, and are divided by a wide aisle which is known as 
 the gangway. At the head of the gangway is the Speaker's 
 chair ; and the benches on the right-hand side are occupied 
 by the Governing party, while those on the left are filled by 
 the members of the Opposition. The benches below the 
 gangway are in possession of the independent members, who 
 give allegiance neither to the Conservatives nor the Liberals. 
 
 28 
 
434 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 \t some height from the floor is a narrow gallery which 
 extends all round the building. That part over the Speaker's 
 chair is given to the reporters of the newspapers, and the 
 accommodation here is so limited that a score or more 
 wealthy and influential journals are represented by one man. 
 A similar space at the other end is devoted to strangers 
 admitted by the members' orders, and the side galleries are 
 intended for the members of the various legations or for 
 members of the other House. 
 
 To any one in the Strangers' Gallery a dark vault is visi- 
 ble over the reporters' desks, screened by an iron scroll ; 
 and as we gaze at this some shadowy faces become discerni- 
 ble, which seem to belong to a smoky picture, until they move, 
 and then we see that they are alive. The enclosure up there 
 is the Ladies' Gallery ; and though it has neither light nor air, 
 and little can be heard in it, places are sought for by more 
 than can be admitted. 
 
 It is not easy to understand why, but instead of transacting 
 its business in business hours, the House of Commons does 
 not assemble until four o'clock in the afternoon : and it some- 
 times continues in session until three or four o'clock in the 
 morning. The proceedings are opened by the entrance of two 
 gentlemen in court-suits of black, — black small-clothes, black 
 silk stockings, shoes with steel buttons, exquisitely frilled 
 shirts, and dainty swords in black sheaths, — one of whom 
 bears the heavy gold mace which emblemizes the power of the 
 Speaker, and which Cromwell contemptuously called " that 
 bauble." Following these is the Speaker himself in wig and 
 gown, with his train-bearer, his chaplain, and his secretary. 
 An usher then informs the persons in the lobby that " Mr. 
 Speaker is at prayers ; " and there is a lull in the conversation, 
 until the same voice announces, " Mr. Speaker is in the 
 chair," when the members take their seats, doffing their hats 
 if it is necessary to pass the Speaker, and putting them on 
 
1663. Methods of Procedure. 435 
 
 again immediately afterward, and wearing them through the 
 proceedings, except when addressing that official. They sit 
 with crossed legs and folded arms, and in any attitude which 
 is most comfortable to them. 
 
 The members of the Cabinet and the Ministry have the 
 benches nearest to the Speaker's right hand ; and half-an-hour 
 having been given for the presentation of petitions, " ques- 
 tion-time " comes, when the various Ministers are expected 
 to be in their places to answer any questions as to the depart- 
 ments under their control. No matter what hostile criticism 
 a speech may contain, one member invariably refers to an- 
 other as "the honorable member" if a commoner; as "the 
 right honorable member " if a member of the Privy Council; 
 as " the noble lord " if a person of title ; and as " the honora- 
 ble and gallant member " if an officer of the army or navy ; 
 the personal names never being used ;• though this punctili- 
 ous courtesy of address often savors of irony. 
 
 One honorable member inquires if it is true that a lady of 
 the Sultan's harem who sought refuge in the British Embassy 
 and was given up, has been strangled, as an accomplice in a 
 palace conspiracy. The Under-Secretary of State for For- 
 eign Affairs assures him that such is not the case ; that the 
 lady is well and happy, and about to be married. Another 
 honorable member is informed by the same official, in answer 
 to a question as to whether a British subject in Chili has 
 been treated with indignity, that a gunboat has been de- 
 spatched to the scene. 
 
 The interest of the debates depends on the matter under 
 consideration ; for the average orator of the House of 
 Commons is not usually capable of vitalizing any subject he 
 may have in hand ; and before adjournment a great many 
 prolix, ill-balanced speeches are made in the singsong, hesi- 
 tating manner that is so common among Englishmen. Those 
 who are not speaking are usually aware of the defects of their 
 
436 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 associate who is, and are not backward in expressing their 
 impatience and disapprobation by groans and derisive laugh- 
 ter. At three in the morning it is often a wonder how many 
 words have been spoken and how little has been done ; and 
 yet the members who endure the misery of sitting up all 
 night receive, unlike the American Congressman, no salary, 
 and have no opportunities for political patronage. 
 
 In 1880, when a Bill which had been passed by a majority 
 in the House of Commons was rejected by the House of 
 Lords, there was a strong feeling against the latter body 
 among the English Radicals and the Irish " Home Rulers." 
 A stranger to England, reading the severe language of the 
 protests, might easily have been misled into supposing that 
 the legislative power of the peers would soon be curtailed, 
 or taken away altogether. 
 
 It will probably be' many years, however, before the House 
 of Lords is done away with. In the hearts of most English- 
 men there is a veneration for antiquity and a mistrust of 
 change ; while the innumerable small capitalists and trades- 
 men look to their possessions, and are anxious to have things 
 left alone. A greater independence of character has devel- 
 oped in recent years, and the wearer of a coronet is no 
 longer the sanctified person he used to be in the eye of the 
 multitude ; but, especially at the present time, when sedition 
 is felt to be rife in many of the Irish members of the 
 House of Commons, the House of Lords is respected, and 
 looked upon as a safeguard against extreme measures. 
 
 The members of the House of Lords are two archbishops 
 and twenty-four bishops of the Church of England, who are 
 called spiritual peers ; and the temporal peers include five 
 persons of the blood royal, twenty-one dukes, nineteen mar- 
 quises, one hundred and fifteen earls, twenty-five viscounts, 
 two hundred and forty-eight barons, twenty-eight noblemen 
 of Ireland, and sixteen noblemen of Scotland. 
 
1883. The House of Lords. 439 
 
 The title of duke is derived from the Latin word dux, a 
 leader. The title of marquis was conferred upon those who 
 held the command of the marches, as the boundaries be- 
 tween England and Wales, and between England and Scot- 
 land, were called when those countries were hostile to each 
 other. The title of earl comes from the Saxon word eorl, a 
 noble. The earls were called counts after the Norman Con- 
 quest, and the shires of which they had been governors 
 became known as counties. The viscount was the deputy of 
 an earl, and the baron was a holder of Crown estates. 
 
 The entrance to the House of Lords is immediately oppo- 
 site to that of the House of Commons ; but the stairway 
 leading to the gallery is wider, the appurtenances are richer, 
 and the ushers seem to be more polite than those of the 
 latter House. 
 
 The Lords assemble at five o'clock in the afternoon ; and 
 a few minutes before that hour we stand in the corridor 
 waiting for the Lord Chancellor to take his seat on the 
 woolsack ; after which we are admitted into a hall more luxu- 
 rious and beautiful than that of the Commons, — so beautiful, 
 indeed, that it would not be easy to imagine anything sur- 
 passing it. Its plan is much the same as that of the other 
 House. The benches for the members are ranged from end 
 to end, five deep, and upholstered with crimson stuff. At 
 the head is the throne, which is a mass of rich and delicate 
 carving, barred off from the rest of the House, with a mag- 
 nificent candelabrum at each side. Above it are three large 
 frescos and several statues in niches, which are continued 
 along the walls. Just in front of the throne is the woolsack, 
 also upholstered with crimson, which is the seat of the Lord 
 Chancellor and the object of every young lawyer's ambition, 
 as the highest dignity he can possibly attain in the kingdom, — 
 the Lord Chancellor being the Speaker of the House and the 
 chief legal adviser of the Crown. 
 
440 
 
 Young 
 
 Folks History of London. 
 
 The woolsack was once exactly what its name means, — 
 a sack of wool ; and if the contents have been substituted 
 by any other material in modern times, its outward appear- 
 ance is not altered. 
 
 The Strangers' Gallery faces the throne, and a narrow 
 gallery for ladies extends over the benches on each side of 
 
 THE STAR CHAMBER. 
 
 the House. The light comes through about sixteen large 
 windows filled with colored glass ; and wherever the eye 
 falls it is on some beauty, — now on the fretted pinnacles 
 and niches above the throne, or on the graven knights sta- 
 tioned between the windows, or on the designs in the ceiling ; 
 and then on the richly carved oaken wainscoting, or the 
 frescos, or the many-hued rays to which the windows lend 
 their colors. There is no flat or barren space visible. 
 
 When the Queen opens Parliament in person, and sits on 
 the throne surrounded by her children and the ladies and 
 
18S3. The Lord CJiaucellor. 441 
 
 gentlemen of her household, and the peers wear their robes 
 and coronets, and the galleries are filled with brilliantly 
 dressed ladies and diplomats resplendent with their decora- 
 tions, the scene is one to be remembered for life ; even 
 under ordinary circumstances it is of peculiar interest. 
 
 When we are admitted into the Gallery the Lord Chan- 
 cellor is already sitting on the woolsack in his long robes 
 and curled wig, which reaches down to his shoulders ; and 
 many of the members, also, are on the benches. As in the 
 House of Commons, the party in power occupies the 
 benches to the right of the Speaker, and the Opposition those 
 to the left. Another thing worth mentioning is that when 
 the chief secretary of any department belonging to the 
 Cabinet is in one House, the under-secretary for the same 
 department is in the other. 
 
 The Lords may originate a Measure or Bill, and, having 
 passed it, send it to the Commons ; but they cannot legislate 
 in any matter affecting the revenue or taxation of the coun- 
 try, this being reserved for the Commons alone, — and than 
 this there is no more striking instance of the progress made 
 in parliamentary government. 
 
 There is more gravity and dignity, and a greater urbanity 
 of manner, in the Upper House than in the Lower; and 
 in personal appearance the Lords are generally a fine set 
 of men. They are simply but well dressed in afternoon 
 or evening suits, with the exception of the bishops, who 
 wear their surplices. They address and refer to one an- 
 other as "the noble lord," or "the noble and learned 
 lord ; " and instead of appealing to the Chancellor, who is 
 practically the chairman, they address their speeches to the 
 whole House. 
 
I hope I 'm fond of much that 's good, 
 
 As well as much that 's gay ; 
 I 'd love the country if I could ; 
 
 I like the Park in May ; 
 And when I ride in Rotten Row, 
 
 I wonder why they call it so." 
 
 Frederick Locker. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE LONDON PARKS. 
 
 Public parks are a modern necessity of self-protection ; and 
 no town with a future before it can omit them from its plans. 
 Open spaces must be left where the air may be renewed, and 
 the people whose lives are in the city streets may look at the 
 green things which, in a wild state, are inaccessible through 
 the ever-increasing environment of brick and mortar. But 
 when Hyde Park was in the country, and forests intervened 
 between Charing Cross and Tyburn ; when from where the 
 Marble Arch now is one could look southeastward to Lon- 
 don, a small city belted with a wall, to shut out would-be 
 invaders ; when the houses were supplied with water running 
 clear from the spring down the middle of the street ; when 
 the Thames had trout in it, and all lights were put out at cur- 
 few ; when the fogs blew up the river, white or gray from the 
 sea, without being converted into liquefied soot, as they are 
 now, by the belchings of hundreds of thousands of chimneys, 
 — then the park was less of a necessity, and its existence was 
 chiefly for the pleasure of the monarch and his favored 
 courtiers. 
 
 In the early times of which we speak, Hyde Park, to which 
 Londoners always apply the exclusive designation of " the 
 Park," lay in the midst of virgin forests ; and the creatures who 
 frequented it were not the butterflies of the fashionable world, 
 but swineherds, charcoal-burners, and a few native hunters, 
 who found in the thickets wild boars, wolves, deer, and smaller 
 
444 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 game. The land belonged to the Abbey of Westminster, and 
 its woods afforded to the monks both firewood and shelter 
 for their game and water-fowl. In possession of the monks it 
 remained until King Henry the Eighth recognized its value as 
 a hunting-ground, and took it to himself, so that he might 
 have for his royal sport all the country from his palace at 
 Westminster to Hampstead Heath. 
 
 Long after Henry's reign it remained in use as a hunting- 
 ground for the sovereign, and among others who came to it 
 was Queen Elizabeth. On such occasions, says Norden in his 
 " Survey of Middlesex and Hertfordshire," the sport would 
 conclude by one of the huntsmen offering a hunting-knife 
 to the Queen, and her taking " say " of the buck, or, in other 
 words, plunging the knife into its throat with her own fair and 
 royal hand. He imagines her riding on an ambling palfrey 
 through the forest glades, accompanied by " the fiery Essex, the 
 courtly Burleigh, the manly Raleigh, or that arch-plotter and 
 scheming villain, Leicester." James the First was also fond of 
 the park, and frequently, says Mr. Jacob Larwood, the dryads 
 and hamadryads must have seen his "sacred Majesty" in 
 that famous costume which he wore when on his journey from 
 Scotland to England, — a doublet as green as the grass he 
 stood on, with a feather in his cap and a horn by his side. 
 " Then the clear echoes, nestling in the quiet nooks and cor- 
 ners, were awakened by the merry blasts of the horn, the hal- 
 looing of the huntsmen cheering the dogs, and the 'yearning' 
 of the pack as they followed the hart to one of the pools, 
 where it ' took soil,' and was bravely despatched by his Ma- 
 jesty. After that followed the noisy ' quarry,' in which, of 
 course, Jowler and Jewel, the King's favorite hounds, obtained 
 the lion's share. When the hunt was over, his Majesty would 
 probably adjourn to the banqueting-house, which stood in the 
 middle of the park, and refresh himself with a deep draught 
 of sack or canary ; and in the cool of the evening, as, return- 
 
1637- Charles the First opens Hyde Park. 445 
 
 ing home to Whitehall, the King crossed over the way to 
 Reading (now Piccadilly), he might see in the far blue dis- 
 tance the little village of St. Giles nestled among the trees, 
 the square steeple of old St. Paul's, and the smoking chimneys 
 of his good citizens of London, while the faint evening breeze 
 wafted towards him the sweet silvery sound of Bow Bells 
 ringing the curfew." 
 
 It was Charles the First who threw open the park to the 
 public ; and it then became, what it has since remained, 
 a stage upon which the varying fashions of the town have 
 exhibited themselves ; so that an illustrated history of it would 
 reveal all changes in the national costume, from the period of 
 the Cavaliers to the time of the modern, sober-hued, inflexi- 
 bly dressed dandy, with pointed shoes and corset-like coat. 
 No innovation in the shape of hat or gown or gaiter, in the 
 coiffure or the complexion, has shown itself elsewhere as soon 
 as in the park. There, too, one might always look with the 
 certainty of finding the notables of the age, — the reigning beau- 
 ties, the ascendent statesmen, the most powerful ambassadors 
 and the most radiant wits, as well as the social mountebanks, 
 who, like gawky apostles of modern sestheticism, adopted ec- 
 centricities of dress to attract the attention which their natural 
 abilities would not have secured for them. Had a duel to be 
 fought, the park was the chosen ground ; for in its woods the 
 most embittered enemies could find an umbrage to match 
 their own ; while its open areas were wide enough to accom- 
 modate both civil and military mass meetings, — the train- 
 bands of the city when Charles called them to his aid against 
 Cromwell ; the volunteers when an invasion of England was 
 threatened, and the Armee d'Angleterre lay encamped near 
 Boulogne ; and, in more recent times, the laboring classes, 
 when they have had a grievance to proclaim or an agitator 
 to listen to. 
 
 It is a many-colored and diverting procession that we see 
 
446 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 in turning over the history of the park. A footpad or a beg- 
 gar may be found lurking here and there ; but it is the gal- 
 lants and fine ladies, the chameleons whose hue quickly 
 changes to suit every caprice of fashion, that are salient 
 in the picture ; so that to some extent the history of the 
 park is, as we have said, a history of dress, and its accom- 
 panying pictures are fashion-plates. 
 
 Looking back to the middle of the seventeenth century, we 
 see that the effeminate absurdities of our time are nothing 
 compared with the dress which the young men affected then. 
 The fashionable young man spent the greater part of his time 
 in the park ; he wore long locks of hair hanging down from 
 the temple on each side of the face, with bows of ribbon tied 
 at the ends, and his face was patched with stars and half- 
 moons, cut out of dark sticking-plaster, to show off his white 
 complexion. Though in walking dress, and having no inten- 
 tion to ride, he wore spurs on the boots ; and they were so 
 made that they jingled as he strode along. There still 
 remained some of the picturesque elegance of the Spanish 
 costume which had been in vogue in the reign of Charles the 
 First, says Mr. Larwood, and there was a novelty in the new 
 riding-habit, which was called the amazone. Till then ladies 
 had worn the usual walking-dress on horseback ; and Pepys 
 was amazed when, for the first time, he saw them attired in 
 " coats and doublets with deep skirts, ... so that, only for 
 a long petticoat dragging under their men's coats, nobody 
 would take them for women in any point whatever." Every 
 one who had " sparkling eyes or a splendid equipage " 
 repaired to the park, and Charles the Second himself, 
 with his notorious associates, was one of the most constant 
 attendants. 
 
 The visitors did not roam over the entire space, but con- 
 fined themselves to the " Ring," — a circular track enclosed by 
 a railing. In the " Tatler " and in the " Spectator " there are 
 
A New Kind of Dandy. 
 
 447 
 
 constant allusions to the brilliant crowds who frequented this 
 space, which was filled with ponderous gilt chariots, drawn 
 
 LONDON DANDY, MIDDLE OF SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 by six horses and preceded by running footmen, who wore 
 silk jackets bedecked with gold lace, tassels, and spangles. 
 
 A new kind of dandy appeared in 1770. It was custo- 
 mary in the last century for young men of rank to finish their 
 
448 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 education by making the " grand tour " of the Continent ; and 
 a number of them, at the close of their travels, formed a club 
 in St. James Street which they called the Savoir-Vivre Club, 
 which oddly enough is now applied to a public-house in a 
 corrupted form — " The Savoy Weaver " ! They had period- 
 ical dinners, at which they introduced the now familiar, but 
 then unusual, dish, macaroni ; and, first applied to members 
 only, this strange name was afterward used to describe all 
 such exquisites as they were. 
 
 They were the objects of as much ridicule as is the modern 
 "dude." Wearing their hair drawn high above the scalp in 
 the shape of a beehive, with long curls at the side and an 
 enormous chignon, they crowned this superstructure with an 
 exceedingly small cocked hat. Their coats, waistcoats, and 
 breeches were scant, the latter being of striped silk, with 
 bunches of ribbons at the knee. They carried long canes 
 decorated with silk tassels, and wore two watches, with large 
 bunches of seals hanging from them. Around their necks 
 they had white ties, fastened under their chins in an im- 
 mense bow. Their calves were displayed in white stockings, 
 and their feet incased in small shoes with diamond buckles. 
 The ladies vied with the men in the extravagance of their 
 costume, and likewise wore their hair in great puffs, which 
 seemed to overbalance their bodies. 
 
 In the reign of George the Third the fashion of imitating 
 the dress of men became conspicuous among the ladies in a 
 form similar to that which we have seen in vogue, — as in the 
 use of Derby hats and ulsters during recent years. They 
 appeared in slouch hats, overcoats with broad belts, and 
 morocco boots. The fashions of the men, on the other hand, 
 became effeminate ; and the Prince of Wales (afterward 
 George the Fourth) aired himself in a mantle, the fur lin- 
 ing of which is said to have cost four thousand dollars, 
 while his delicate hands were nestled in a big muff. But the 
 
i8i5- New Fas J do ns from France. 449 
 
 elegance of the Prince was eclipsed by that of the famous 
 Beau Brummel, who became the model of all men who 
 wished to be considered well dressed. He employed two 
 boot-makers, one to provide him with shoes for the right 
 foot and the other for the left ; three glove-makers, one of 
 whom was exclusively charged with cutting out the thumbs ; 
 and three hairdressers, one for the front, one for the temple, 
 and one for the crown. For nineteen years he led the fash- 
 ion ; and surrounding him were many other dandies, one of 
 whom spent a small fortune annually in the endeavor to cut 
 as fine a figure. 
 
 In the last winter of the eighteenth century another violent 
 change had taken place in women's dress. Hues of the 
 gaudiest kind were adopted, and the materials were so spar- 
 ingly cut that it seemed that to be well dressed was to be 
 undressed. The gowns had no waists ; and this phenomenon 
 was celebrated in the parody of a popular song, " The Banks 
 of the Banna." The lines, — 
 
 " Shepherds, I have lost my love ; 
 Have you seen my Anna ? " 
 
 being changed into : 
 
 " Shepherds, I have lost my waist ; 
 Have you seen my body ? " 
 
 The last change had been from the antique ; and the next, 
 in 181 5, was from the French. It was then that those stu- 
 pendous bonnets appeared, — 
 
 " So beautifully high up and poking, 
 Like things that are put to keep chimneys from smoking." 
 
 The ladies strove to surpass each other in the brevity of 
 their furbelowed skirts ; and the waists which they neglected 
 the men cultivated, girding up their loins without mercy, so 
 that their bodies had the shape of hour-glasses. The showi- 
 est of the dandies was a Mr. Bailey, who wore nankeen 
 
 29 
 
45 o Young Folks History of London. 
 
 trousers, fancy vests, and sky-blue coats. The cloth was 
 embroidered with silver or gold ; his linen was the finest 
 cambric, his stockings silk gauze, his shoes enamelled leather, 
 with silver buckles, and his breeches cashmere. Though he 
 dressed like a fop, Mr. Bailey was a person of robust man- 
 ners, and gained some repute — or, we should say, ill-repute 
 — by his assaults on the old watchmen, or " Charlies," who 
 preceded the policemen introduced by Sir Robert Peel. 
 
 Let us turn our eyes now from the dresses to the faces of 
 the throng, among which we see those of many old acquain- 
 tances, — Oliver Cromwell, burly, upright, and beardless, 
 reviewing his troops ; Evelyn, the diarist ; Charles the Second 
 and his immoral beauties ; old Pepys, delighting in his own 
 finery, and closely observant of that of the others ; the Duke 
 of Monmouth ; William the Third and " his dull stocking- 
 knitting spouse ; " the great Duke of Marlborough ; Sir Rich- 
 ard Steele, prosperous in a coach and four ; Dean Swift ; 
 Harry Fielding • Horace Walpole ; Lord Chesterfield ; George 
 the Third ; Fox ; and the Duke of Wellington. 
 
 It would be impossible even to catalogue all the celebrities 
 of the park in less space than a biographical dictionary. The 
 park, indeed, has been the focus of London life at all times 
 since it was thrown open by King Charles ; but it has not 
 been merely a scene of gayety. The tragedy of passion, re- 
 sentment, and revenge, as well as the comedy of fashion, has 
 been enacted again and again in its shade. Many a bloody 
 and fatal duel has been fought within its precincts. It was a 
 convenient distance from town, and was unfrequented in the 
 early hours of the day. There were many quiet spots where 
 the combatants had no fear of intrusion, and where they 
 could settle their difficulties with a yard of steel. 
 
 Mr. Stanley, the brother of the Earl of Derby, was killed 
 here by the Duke of Grafton in 1686, and in 1712 a sangui- 
 nary duel was fought by the Duke of Hamilton and Lord 
 
1712. A Sanguinary Duel. 451 
 
 Mohun, — a scene which Thackeray has painted in " Esmond," 
 though with less regard for historical accuracy than other 
 parts of that brilliant book show. The origin of the dispute 
 was in a political intrigue ; and while the Duke was a worthy 
 gentleman, his opponent was a high-born ruffian, who had 
 more than once before been implicated in murder. The 
 Duke and his second, Colonel Hamilton, were first in the 
 field. Soon after came Lord Mohun and his second, Major 
 Macartney, whose appearance excited the ire of the Duke, 
 the latter exclaiming : "I am well assured, sir, that all this 
 is by your contrivance, and therefore you shall have your 
 share in the dance ; my friend here, Colonel Hamilton, will 
 entertain you." 
 
 " I wish for no better pastime, and the Colonel may com- 
 mand me," replied Macartney. 
 
 It was then the custom for the seconds to fight, as well as 
 the principals, and the four men at once set to. Macartney 
 was speedily disarmed by the Colonel, who flung both swords 
 away, and went in the direction of the other combatants, who 
 were thrusting at each other with uncommon ferocity. In a 
 very short time the Duke was wounded in both legs ; but he 
 succeeded in piercing Mohun through the arm, in the groin, 
 and in other parts of the body. The grass around was red- 
 dened with their blood ; yet, bleeding as they were, they still 
 fought with a supernatural strength. Each at the same time 
 then made a desperate lunge at the other. The Duke's wea- 
 pon passed up to the very hilt through Mohun ; but as the 
 latter fell, he managed to stab his adversary, who also sank to 
 the ground. Colonel Hamilton now lifted up his friend ; 
 and while he was doing so, Macartney seized one of the 
 abandoned swords, and reaching over the Colonel's shoulder, 
 thrust it through the Duke's heart. Lord Mohun himself 
 died of his wounds on the spot ; and with him his title be- 
 came extinct, while the earls of Harrington succeeded to 
 his estates. 
 
452 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 Another noteworthy duel was that between John Wilkes, 
 the agitator, and Samuel Martin, a member of Parliament. 
 Martin had called Wilkes a cowardly and malignant scoun- 
 drel, and the latter had at once called him out. They fired 
 four times, when Wilkes fell, wounded in the abdomen. His 
 antagonist, relenting, hastened up and insisted on helping 
 him off the ground ; but Wilkes as strenuously urged Martin 
 to hurry away, so as to escape arrest. Wilkes soon recov- 
 ered, the buttons of his coat having deadened the effect of 
 the ball with which he was struck; and a few years later 
 another duel was fought, not by him, but on his account, by 
 one of his admirers and a Captain Douglass, who had aspersed 
 his character in a coffee-house. The weapons used were 
 swords, and Wilkes's champion, who was a clergyman, suc- 
 ceeded in running his adversary through the doublet without 
 seriously injuring him. 
 
 At this time the admiration with which Wilkes was regarded 
 had no limits. One gentleman preserved as precious relics 
 the coat and waistcoat buttons which had deadened the ball 
 in the duel with Martin, and kept them in an ornamental case 
 with the following absurd inscription : "These two simple yet 
 invaluable buttons, under Providence, preserved the life of 
 my beloved and honest friend, John Wilkes, in a duel fought 
 with Mr. Martin on the 16th of November, 1763, where true 
 courage and humanity distinguished him in a manner scarcely 
 known to former ages. His invincible bravery, as well in the 
 field as in the glorious assertion of the liberty of his fellow 
 subjects, will deliver him down, as an unparalleled example 
 of public virtue, to all future generations." Wilkes at this 
 time could be seen in the park almost daily, riding in a mag- 
 nificent chariot, on which was painted his coat of arms and 
 motto, Arcui meo 11011 confido. 
 
 In October, 1765, a young army officer named Redmond 
 McGragh fought four opponents and disarmed them all, 
 
i77 2 - Sheridan and Captain Matthews. 453 
 
 giving the silver hilts of their swords to a porter who was 
 passing. He had previously declined a duel, saying that he 
 reserved his courage for the service of his king and country ; 
 but being taunted with cowardice, he challenged all four of 
 his detractors, with the result mentioned. In 1772 the witty 
 Sheridan crossed swords with Captain Matthews ; and as late 
 as 1822 a duel was fought between the Duke of Buckingham 
 and the Duke of Bedford. 
 
 Thus we see that the park has had its seamy side, and has 
 not been merely a place 
 
 " Where the fashionable fair 
 Could form a slight acquaintance with fresh air." 
 
 Many great national movements have also been associated 
 with it. Cromwell reviewed his troops here ; after the Restor- 
 ation Charles the Second had his army in procession before 
 him; and in 1699 King William the Third inspected the 
 Life Guards, having at his side the Duke of Ormond, the 
 Duke of Marlborough (then earl), the Prince of Denmark, 
 husband of the future Queen Anne, the Duke of Gloucester, 
 the Duke of Schomberg, Earl Rivers, and the Earl of Albe- 
 marle. After Lexington and Bunker Hill, drills and reviews 
 became very frequent in the park ; and among the novelties 
 was the custom the ladies adopted of wearing dresses to 
 match the regimentals of their husbands. 
 
 It is stijt used for political and military demonstrations ; 
 but, after all, the salient feature of the park is the crowd of 
 equestrians and pedestrians which gather at different hours of 
 the day during the London season. 
 
 There is no finer sight in the world than that which may 
 be seen in Rotten Row on a June afternoon. The stately man- 
 sions of Mayfair, Belgravia, and Tyburnia empty their inmates 
 into this concourse, and all who are famous or fashionable 
 join in the throng. As the Ring was the favorite meeting 
 point in times gone by, Rotten Row (a wide avenue extending 
 
454 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 along the southern boundary of the park) is now the chosen 
 resort of all those who wish to be classed above the common 
 people. The singular name of this thoroughfare, let us say 
 in parenthesis, is sometimes said to be a corruption of Route 
 du Roi, or King's road ; but Timbs states that it is derived 
 from the word rotteran^ meaning to muster, and that its origin 
 is traceable to the reviews which used to be held in the park. 
 The wonder which Mr. Locker expresses, — 
 
 " And when I ride in Rotten Row 
 I wonder why they called it so," — 
 
 need not, therefore, be shared by our readers. 
 
 The name is libellous and unpleasing, and might well be 
 changed for another one that would do justice to the avenue 
 which bears it, — some name that would reflect the soft, trans- 
 lucent foliage that borders it, or the flowers which are bedded 
 in rich masses along its walks, or the distinction of its fre- 
 quenters. It is the outdoor pivot of the fashionable world ; 
 and nowhere else is the assemblage so aristocratic, so little 
 diluted with the inferior streams of plebeian humanity. Pov- 
 erty never ventures here : it feels its own unfitness too sharply 
 to obtrude itself in this most undemocratic gathering ; for even 
 the spectators are all well dressed, and have an appearance 
 of refinement. Sitting in one of the chairs along the Row at 
 the proper hour of the day, which is varied to suit the ca- 
 prices of fashion, one sees a procession of the most notable 
 people in London ; now it is a cabinet minister ; now a fa- 
 mous diplomat ; now his serene highness from Ispahan ; now a 
 bronze prince of Hindoostan ; now the Prince of Wales and 
 his lovely princess ; now a governor of the Bank of England ; 
 now the Lord Chief Justice or a pre-eminent barrister ; and 
 now a celebrated artist or a popular author. The toilets of 
 the ladies are the richest, and the equipages are as faultless 
 as the dresses of the persons who use them. For all one 
 
1883. Saturday Afternoon in Hyde Park. 457 
 
 can see in Rotten Row, all the world is prosperous, dignified, 
 well tailored, and well groomed. 
 
 But Hyde Park is wide, and the range of its fashionable 
 habitues is narrow ; within a rod of the spectacle which the 
 Row presents we can see a very different scene. Hyde is less 
 ornamental in an artificial sense than Central Park in New- 
 York and the Public Garden of Boston. Its attractiveness 
 is largely in its countrified aspect, — its unfenced meadows, 
 from which no one is forbidden, its wild-looking shrubbery, 
 and the voluminous foliage of its old trees. The restrictions 
 which confront one in many pleasure-grounds are absent 
 here, and the purpose of public recreation is not defeated by 
 arbitrary warnings against trespassing this way or that. It is 
 like a great rural common, — more like Boston Common 
 than any other place I know of, indeed ; and, leaving Rotten 
 Row behind, we wander over its grassy spaces with a sense of 
 the boon it is to the thousands who learn from it the little 
 they know of green fields and sheltering leaves. On a Satur- 
 day afternoon in summer, when the sun is diffusing itself in 
 an atmosphere which seems to be filled with a golden pow- 
 der, it is a scene of communicative happiness. There are 
 boys at play and children romping ; there are quiet groups of 
 girls and women sewing or reading ; and all the voices sound 
 soft and sweet, with an echoing contentment, though their 
 customary tones may be harsh enough. It is a magnificent 
 possession, this park of nearly four hundred acres ; it is in 
 the heart of the most aristocratic section of the metropolis ; 
 on its southern borders are the mansions of Belgravia; all 
 along the northern borders are the squares, crescents, and 
 gardens of Tyburnia, — another region of splendid houses ; 
 in the east is Mayfair, with its quaint and sombre architect- 
 ure ; and on the west is. delightful Kensington, with the 
 famous palace and gardens of that name. 
 
 Kensington Gardens are a continuation of the park, being 
 
45 8 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 separated from it only by a sunken wall ; but they are more 
 densely wooded and more ornamental. They are a triumph 
 of the landscape gardener's art, and the foliage is so luxu- 
 riant that the figures seem to be woven into it as in a tapes- 
 try. The surface undulates, and the paths wind now along 
 the shore of a lake, then under a Gothic archway of verdure, 
 and then into an open space, bedded out with flowers of bril- 
 liant hues. Kensington Palace was originally the residence 
 of the Earl of Nottingham, and was purchased from him by 
 William the Third. In it Queen Mary, the consort of that 
 king, died ; and Queen Anne subsequently occupied it, giving 
 those splendid fetes, which were attended by all the great 
 world of London, attired in "brocaded robes, hoops, fly- 
 caps, and fans." She, too, died within its walls ; and in it 
 also died George the Second, who, with Queen Caroline, 
 had spent most of his time in it. It became the home of 
 the Duke and Duchess of Kent, to whom, on the 24th of 
 May, 1819, a child was born, — Alexandrina Victoria, the 
 lady who now wears the crown of England ; and it was in 
 the palace that news was brought to her of the death of 
 William the Fourth, she receiving the messengers just as she 
 had got out of bed, " in a loose white nightgown and shawl, 
 her nightcap thrown off and her hair falling upon her shoul- 
 ders, her feet in slippers, tears in her eyes, but perfectly 
 collected and dignified." 
 
 At no great distance from the Gardens is Holland House, 
 which for two centuries and a half was the favorite resort of 
 wits and beauties, painters and poets, of scholars, philoso- 
 phers, and statesmen. In 1649 Fairfax, the Parliamentary 
 general, made it his headquarters; in 1716 it became the 
 possession of Joseph Addison, the essayist, who died here 
 two years later; and in it Charles James Fox spent his 
 early years. " Holland House," says Macaulay, " can boast 
 of a greater number of inmates distinguished in political 
 

 niil 
 
 Hffii 
 
 
 ■^ 
 
 ST. James"s park. 
 
1883- St. y antes s Park. 461 
 
 and literary history than any other private dwelling in 
 England." 
 
 Two other parks are contiguous to Hyde. Just across the 
 way, on the southeastern side of Piccadilly, is Green Park, — 
 a triangular space of about fifty acres, from which Constitution 
 Hill leads down by Buckingham Palace into St. James's Park, 
 which has the palace of that name, and Marlborough House 
 (the residence of the Prince of Wales) on one side, and 
 Westminster and Whitehall on the other. On Constitution 
 Hill three attempts have been made to assassinate the Queen ; 
 and while riding over it Sir Robert Peel fell from his horse, 
 receiving the injuries which caused his death. 
 
 St. James's Park is of greater interest than Green ; and 
 while it is one of the most beautiful, it is also one of the 
 most democratic, of the London parks. There is nothing 
 here to fill a man with envy by reminding him of the unequal 
 distribution of the world's honors and riches ; whatever his 
 poverty may be, he can find rags to match his own ; and if 
 he be splenetic, he may, as Goldsmith says, meet com- 
 panions with whose groans he may mix his own. The 
 pinched faces of the " lower orders," as the laboring classes 
 are called in England, may be seen as often as others ; and 
 the hands are not dainty which share the contents of wicker 
 luncheon-baskets and paper parcels with the water-fowl on 
 the lake, which are said to be the direct descendants of those 
 introduced by Charles the Second. One part of the park is 
 monopolized by these poor people. It is near the site of 
 Carlton House ; there sweets and confectionery are sold in 
 little stalls or booths, and customers are given the unusual 
 treat of milk freshly drawn, under their own eyes, from the 
 cows which are tethered to the doors. 
 
 Charles the Second did much to improve this park, which 
 until his reign had been neglected. He laid it out with 
 avenues of elms and limes ; and these are still so numerous, 
 
462 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 that the visitor may sit or walk without seeing anything of 
 the surrounding city, except bits of the gray walls and towers 
 of Westminster Abbey. The dissolute King was especially 
 fond of it, and would sit for hours on the benches, amusing 
 himself with his dogs and the tame ducks, while around him 
 stood a crowd of the people, with whom he talked and joked. 
 On its ornamental water skates were first used in England ; 
 and on one of the greenswards that game was introduced 
 which is handed down to history in the name of one of the 
 most famous of London streets, — Pall Mall. The King 
 took great interest in this pastime, which was not unlike our 
 modern croquet, and often joined in it, to the edification of 
 the bystanders. 
 
 The two palaces which stand on the borders of the park 
 show how elastic their designation is. St. James's Palace is 
 small and dingy, more like an almshouse than a home of 
 kings. Its front has been dyed an apoplectic purple by the 
 London smoke ; it has a barrack-like appearance, with em- 
 battled towers and a sally-port ; and the only relief to its 
 gloom is the red-coated guard. But, as Hare says, the pic- 
 turesque old brick gateway enshrines the memory of a greater 
 succession of historical events than any other domestic build- 
 ing in England, not excepting Windsor Castle. The site 
 was occupied, even before the Conquest, by a hospital ded- 
 icated to St. James " for fourteen maidens that were lep- 
 rous ; " and Henry the Eighth converted the building into 
 a palace for himself and Anne Boleyn, their marriage being 
 commemorated by nearly effaced love-knots on the side doors 
 of the gateway, and the initials " H. A." on the chimney- 
 piece of the presence-chamber. Afterward the palace was 
 settled by James the First on Prince Henry, who lived in it 
 in great state, having a salaried household of two hundred 
 and ninety-seven servants. Charles the First then occupied 
 it, and in it Charles the Second was born. Mary the Second 
 
l82 5- Buckingham Palace. 465 
 
 and Queen Anne were also born here ; and both of them 
 were married under its roof. 
 
 All of the Georges lived in the palace, as did William the 
 Fourth and Queen Adelaide ; but since the accession of 
 Queen Victoria it has only been used for courts, levees, and 
 drawing-rooms. Its rooms are dark and cramped, and many 
 of them are divided into suites for the pensioners of her 
 Majesty ; but they contain a valuable collection of old paint- 
 ings and historic relics. 
 
 Buckingham Palace has a much more grandiose appear- 
 ance, and was built, between 1825 and 1837, on the site of 
 Buckingham House. It is the only palace in London used 
 by the Queen as a residence. 
 
 Regent's Park is the largest of all the London parks, 
 comprising over four hundred acres ; but it has less his- 
 toric interest than St. James's or Hyde. Within it are the 
 Zoological Gardens and the Botanic Gardens ; around it are 
 many handsome villas. The visitors are mostly of the work- 
 ing and mercantile classes, and the best time to see it is on a 
 Saturday afternoon, when the boys are at cricket; or when 
 the band is playing on a Sunday afternoon, and the crowd 
 is attired in holiday finery. 
 
 London is well supplied with parks. Besides those we 
 have mentioned there is Battersea Park in the south, Fins- 
 bury in the northwest, and Victoria in the east. Hampstead 
 Heath and Epping Forest are perpetually reserved for public 
 recreation. Nearly every village and suburb has its heath or 
 common ; and drive or walk which way we will, we find 
 oases where trees and plants seem to thrive despite the 
 baleful London fog. 
 
 30 
 
" I can think of no happier destiny for the ardent lover of books, 
 for a historian, a man of science, a statistician, a novelist, or a mere 
 student, absorptive but not fruitful, than to have cozy lodgings in the 
 vicinity of Russell Square, a satisfactory English landlady, and a ticket 
 — daily used — to the Reading-room. He may sit in one of the roomy 
 fauteuils as luxuriously as the West End lord in his velvet-lined ma- 
 hogany, and may look round with a sense of ownership (for their use 
 and fruits are freely his) upon a far prouder possession of learning 
 than the greatest West End lord can boast. He is in goodly com- 
 pany for here burrow, almost invariably, the scholars, romancers, 
 philosophers of England. He sits coequal in his privileges with the 
 British aristocracy of brain. He is served as faithfully and as 
 quickly as is the minister of state by his favorite private secretaries. 
 There is the whole day long to revel, uninterrupted if he will, in his 
 beloved studies, in a tranquil and studious sphere, out of hearing of 
 the bustle of the streets, though here is busiest London roaring all 
 about him." 
 
 Moncure D. Conway 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE BRITISH MUSEUM. 
 
 The British Museum is not outwardly alluring to the world, 
 and the working-man who, not having been in it before, gives 
 up one of his rare holidays to making an acquaintance with 
 it, is deserving of a great deal of praise. The London fogs 
 have hung the front with decent academic black ; the heavy 
 Ionic columns look as if they should be broken, to typify 
 bereavement ; and the sculptured architrave, which represents 
 the advance of man from the rude savage state, through patri- 
 archal simplicity and paganism, to civilization, is so begrimed 
 that it seems to carry its own allegory farther, and to betoken 
 the relapse of the world into final darkness 
 
 The portico is imposing in its dimensions, and the view of 
 it is not hindered, for there is a wide, solemn courtyard, with 
 high railings, before it. Since the days of Trajan no such 
 stones have been used in building as those in this front. There 
 are eight hundred of them, and each weighs from five to nine 
 tons. But the lines of the Ionic architecture are cold and 
 severe, and the building, blackened as it is, seems to be in 
 mourning. 
 
 A little distance to the south of the Museum is the turmoil 
 of Oxford Street ; behind it, reaching up to Euston Road, is 
 " comfortable Bloomsbury," with its sooty old brick, unchang- 
 ing houses, which give to the American, who has recently 
 come away from the white marble and painted iron and wood 
 of his own country, an idea that London is a vast coal-cellar. 
 
468 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 Nothing about the Museum is cheery or beautiful ; it is in 
 sombre contrast to the new brick and terra-cotta palaces 
 which contain the collections at South Kensington ; and if it 
 is pointed out to the simple-minded artisan or laborer as 
 one of the chief fountains of knowledge, then it must seem 
 to him that knowledge is too owlish and depressing to be 
 desirable. 
 
 Even when the portals are passed the effect is not enliven- 
 ing. The first view is of sober-hued walls, wide staircases, 
 reverberant alcoves, groups of plaster casts, and fragmentary 
 antiquities. But if the visitor has courage enough to penetrate 
 farther, and has intelligence enough to understand what he 
 sees, he will soon find the Museum growing in interest ; and 
 in it he can take object-lessons on such a scale as no other 
 institution in the world can afford. 
 
 The things which history describes are palpable and visible 
 here. The implements and utensils, the houses and the 
 handiwork, of classic times and classic lands are set up in 
 the midst of London ; ancient Greece and Rome, Assyria 
 and Egypt, old Roman London and mediaeval England have 
 been revived in Bloomsbury ! The Museum is not restricted 
 to antiquities, however. It contains the great national library, 
 paintings, drawings, and statuary, a vast zoological collection, 
 a mineral collection, and a botanical collection ; no part of 
 it is small or inferior ; and, as already stated, it is in some 
 respects the greatest of all museums. 
 
 The founder was Sir Hans Sloane, a distinguished and 
 philanthropic London physician, who, wishing to prevent 
 the dispersal of his own collections after death, offered them 
 to the Government for ^20,000, — a sum less than half 
 their value. The offer was gladly accepted ; and at the same 
 time the Government decided to purchase some other collec- 
 tions, and to put them all together in a national museum, for 
 the benefit of which a lottery was held. The lottery netted 
 
1759- A Satirical Catalogue. 469 
 
 the sum of ,£95,000, and the required ^20,000 was paid to 
 the legatees of Sir Hans Sloane. 
 
 The Museum promised to be what it has become, — a 
 source of education and entertainment to the nation ; but 
 the wits of the time scoffed at the project, and one of them, 
 intending to belittle the Sloane bequest, contemptuously 
 catalogued the collection, which was said to contain 
 
 " a sacred pin 
 That touch'd the ruff that touched 
 Queen Bess's chin ; " 
 
 while another satirist, enumerating the objects in an imagin- 
 ary museum, offered to present, — 
 
 " Three drops of the same shower 
 Which Jove in Danae's lap did pour ; 
 From Carthage brought, the sword I '11 send 
 Which brought Queen Dido to her end ; 
 The stone whereby Goliath died, 
 Which cures the headache when applied ; 
 A whetstone, worn exceeding small, 
 Time used to whet his scythe withal ; 
 St. Dunstan's tongs, which story shows 
 Did pinch the Devil by the nose ; 
 The very shaft, as all may see, 
 Which Cupid shot at Antony; 
 And what above the rest I prize, 
 A glance from Cleopatra's eyes. 
 
 In a thumb-vial you shall see, 
 Close-corked, some drops of honesty, 
 Which, after searching kingdoms round, 
 At last were in a cottage found. 
 
 I ha' n't collected any care ; 
 
 Of that there 's plenty everywhere ; 
 
 But after wondrous labor spent, 
 
 I Ve got one grain of real content ; 
 
 It is my wish, it is my glory, 
 
 To furnish your nicknackatory." 
 
470 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 The " nicknackatory " was first established in Montague 
 House, the property of Lord Halifax ; and it was opened 
 to the public on Jan. 15, 1759, since which time it has 
 been augmented and enriched again and again. 
 
 George the Second presented a library which had been 
 collected by previous kings from the time of Henry the 
 Seventh. George the Fourth added a library which his 
 father had formed, and the trustees purchased the historic 
 manuscripts known as the Harleian Collection, formed by 
 the Earl of Oxford, to which were added the manuscripts 
 collected by Sir John Cotton soon after the dissolution of 
 monasteries in England. 
 
 Montague House soon became too small for the accumu- 
 lated treasures, and the present building, which is a square 
 formed by four wings, with a reading-room in the quadrangle, 
 was completed in 1857, the old one having been taken down, 
 section by section, as the new one advanced. Although it 
 covers seven acres of ground, every inch of it is occupied, 
 and there is an urgent necessity for more room. 
 
 In the Anglo-Roman Gallery, one of the twelve depart- 
 ments into which the Museum is divided, may be seen 
 the Roman works which have been dug up from beneath 
 modern London, — tombs like those which stand in the 
 Appian Way and in Pompeii ; mosaic pavements which it is 
 said Roman art alone could devise ; lamps, weapons, amu- 
 lets, urns, coins, and beads, whose appearance and inscrip- 
 tions indicate with certainty the presence of a settled Roman 
 civilization on the banks of the Thames. In another gallery 
 we pass from old London to Greece and Rome, whose life 
 is illustrated by military and domestic utensils ; bejewelled, 
 chased, and enamelled ornaments ; bass-reliefs ; coins and 
 statuary. Thence we may enter Asia Minor and the Lycian 
 cities, some of whose most valuable ruins were removed to 
 London by Sir Charles Fellowes between 1842 and 1846. 
 
1856. The Mausoleum of Halicamassus. 473 
 
 A splendid possession of the Museum is the mausoleum of 
 Halicamassus, one of the " Seven Wonders of the World," 
 which in 1856 was carried to England from the coast of Asia 
 Minor, where it had been buried since the twelfth century. It 
 was built by Artemisia, Princess of Caria, as a memorial of her 
 husband, Mausolus, whose death she so mourned that after 
 mixing his ashes with her drink daily for two years, she died 
 of a broken heart. The monument surpassed all others of 
 the ancient world ; and from its beauty the name of mauso- 
 leum came to be applied to all similar monuments. 
 
 The departments of Natural History, Mineralogy, and Bot- 
 any we will not mention, as our space will not allow it, and as 
 the antiquities are more interesting. Here are the remains of 
 Nineveh and the famous Elgin Marbles, which Lord Elgin, 
 ambassador to the Sublime Porte, brought from Athens. 
 He took the consent which he obtained from that Govern- 
 ment in no narrow sense, and carried away with him the 
 pediment of the Parthenon, and, indeed, a very considerable 
 portion of that beautiful building. 
 
 The Egyptian Gallery contains the Sphinx, Isis, and Osiris 
 many times repeated, sarcophagi and monuments, tombs of 
 the Ptolemies and Rameseses, sculptured tablets and statues, 
 funeral vases and pillars, — all crowded with hieroglyphics 
 which still puzzle the archaeologist. There are a large num- 
 ber of glass-cases in this department, containing mummies of 
 various ages, some dried to black crusts, and others quite 
 life-like ; while along the walls are relics exhibiting the cus- 
 toms and usages of ancient Egypt, — ornaments, domestic 
 utensils, official and priestly costumes, works of art, toilet 
 articles, playthings, writing-materials, and trade implements. 
 
 Between the British and Mediaeval Room and the Ethno- 
 logical Department is a space filled with gold ornaments 
 and gems, — cameos, intaglios, and other precious ornaments ; 
 and here is the famous Portland vase, which is considered to 
 
474 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 be one of the greatest treasures of the Museum. It was found 
 in a marble sarcophagus near Rome about the middle of the 
 sixteenth century, and was afterward deposited in the Bar- 
 berini Palace, where it remained until 1770, when it was pur- 
 chased by Sir William Hamilton, who sold it to the Duchess 
 of Portland for nine thousand dollars. The ground of the 
 vase is of dark-blue glass, and the design is cut in a layer of 
 opaque white glass, which stands out in bold relief. Until 
 1845 this triumph of the glass-maker's art was in perfect 
 condition ; but in that year a drunken mechanic deliberately 
 threw a stone at it and smashed it into a thousand pieces. 
 This tipsy vandal ought to have been publicly whipped ; but, 
 strange to say, he was let off on payment of a fine. The 
 fragments of the vase were afterward cemented together by 
 a gentleman who had for a long time been engaged at the 
 Museum ; and the work was done so skilfully, that the cracks 
 can scarcely be detected. 
 
 The Etruscan rooms are crowded with beautiful vases, 
 which are nearly all more than two thousand years old ; and 
 whichever way we turn, we find the vestiges of civilizations 
 which have bequeathed to us the fruits of their ungrudging 
 labors. In the Museum, it has been truthfully said, the 
 artist is reminded that the same way to perfection lies open to 
 him as to the Greek of old ; and the mere observer learns, in 
 the study of beauty which came by honest labor, to discourage 
 and avoid that which is false and fleeting in art or workman- 
 ship of any kind. 
 
 The feature which excels all others at the British Museum 
 is the Reading-room. In the first place, the collection of 
 books is probably the largest in the world, and it includes 
 nearly 1,500,000 volumes, many of which are old and his- 
 toric manuscripts, without duplicates. In the second place, 
 the building which contains the books is of enormous size, 
 and so well arranged and equipped that all parts of it are 
 
! 884- The Reading- Room. 475 
 
 easily accessible. In the third place, the management is so 
 liberal and intelligent,, that the whole of the vast and priceless 
 collection is available to the knowledge-seeking public with- 
 out trouble or cost. In no other library in the world are the 
 contents so rare ; and yet the readers, instead of being hin- 
 dered, discouraged, questioned, and cross-examined until 
 they feel as if they were the defendants in some judicial 
 proceeding, as in some libraries, are helped in every way by 
 patient and courteous officials, who carry catalogues in their 
 heads and clews to all books at their tongues' ends. 
 
 Any adult may become a reader on the recommendation 
 of a responsible householder in London, provided he intends 
 to use the books for study, and not for amusement simply ; 
 and when a ticket has once been issued to him, all the privil- 
 eges of the room are his perpetually, unless he gives up his 
 abode in London or misconducts himself. *" The library is 
 not intended for the recreation of mere novel-readers or the 
 turners-over of picture-books, as, if they were admitted, they 
 would crowd out the more earnest readers ; but, however 
 humble the latter may be, all the resources of the library are 
 open to them, provided they have an object. Not only are 
 the books placed at their disposal, but also pens, ink, paper, 
 and blotters. The furniture is as comfortable as that in the 
 writing-rooms of good clubs ; an upholstered armchair, a 
 leather-covered desk, and a book-rest are provided for each 
 reader. The room is always warm in winter and cool in 
 summer, the ventilation being of the most ingenious and 
 effective kind, and at all times the light is ample. The will- 
 ingness of the attendants to oblige, and their ability to do so, 
 must command the respect and gratitude of any one who 
 constantly uses this splendid institution. 
 
 Once the writer was seeking information regarding the 
 Bank of England, and had consulted the catalogue with- 
 out finding what he wanted. In his difficulty he turned 
 
476 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 to an official at the central desk, who at once referred him 
 to articles on the subject covering many years of the files of 
 newspapers and magazines, — fragmentary essays which the 
 catalogue did not mention, but which this gentleman recalled 
 from his phenomenal memory. It seemed to me that the 
 Bank was surely his pet theme ; and when I went to him 
 again, it was with the fear that I had exhausted his useful- 
 ness ; but though the subject about which I now inquired was 
 utterly unconnected with the Bank, he showed the same glib- 
 ness as before in referring me to fugitive treatises, which he 
 remembered having seen years previously. As often as I 
 went to him in search of information, he was ready, and his 
 urbanity made conversation with him a pleasure. 
 
 No matter what the subject may be which an author has in 
 hand, it may be safely said that in the Reading-room of the 
 British Museum he can prepare himself for his work more 
 fully than anywhere else ; and an instance of the comprehen- 
 siveness of the books came to my knowledge not long ago. 
 The editor-in-chief of a Chicago newspaper was visiting the 
 library, and some one suggested that he should turn to the 
 catalogue and see if he could not find his own name there. 
 " But I have written nothing except a few pamphlets on free- 
 trade," he said. The catalogue was examined, however, and 
 under the proper heading was a reference to these little-cir- 
 culated books, which had been issued for private circulation, 
 years before, in the distant Western city. 
 
 On entering the Reading-room the visitor finds himself in an 
 immense circular apartment, crowned by a splendid dome, 
 one hundred and forty feet in diameter and one hundred and 
 six feet high, — the largest dome in the world, except that of 
 the Pantheon at Rome. From the floor to the base of the 
 dome the walls are hidden by bookshelves, which extend 
 entirely around the building ; and these, added to others in 
 the adjoining apartments, measure about thirty miles in 
 
1884. Contents of the Library. 477 
 
 length. Thirty miles of bookshelves, containing nearly one 
 million five hundred thousand volumes, exclusive of hun- 
 dreds of thousands of tracts, pamphlets, manuscripts, and 
 newspaper- files ! To this already enormous collection every 
 publisher in the United Kingdom is required by law to 
 add a copy of every book he issues ; and the annual in- 
 crease has often been more than a hundred and fifty 
 thousand volumes. The shelves are arranged in three 
 tiers, the two upper ones being reached by circular bal- 
 conies, while the lower one is accessible from the floor. 
 The latter contains twenty thousand volumes of books of 
 reference, magazines, reviews, and standard works ; and all of 
 these can be taken down by the readers and used as they 
 need them, no ticket for them being required. One feels a 
 sense of awe as one looks at these winding shelves, and real- 
 izes what the Library is, — a storehouse of thought ; a granary 
 filled with the most varied of human experiences ; the offer- 
 ings of scholarship revealed in many tongues ; the harvest of 
 intellectual endeavor. And the awe grows when one looks 
 from the shelves to the desks where the toil is still being 
 continued, and the students are poring in silence over the 
 volumes before them, striving to add still further to the sum 
 of knowledge. 
 
 The arrangement of the floor may be likened to a wheel. 
 The hub is represented by a circular enclosure, reserved for 
 the officers of the Library, where the books are delivered and 
 received. The spokes are the desks which radiate from the 
 centre, and of these there are about thirty-five, which altoge- 
 ther will accommodate about three hundred persons, allow- 
 ing four feet in the width of the desk-space to each reader. 
 The readers sit on both sides of the desk, but a longitu- 
 dinal screen hides those on one side from the others, and 
 thus privacy is secured. Under the desks there are foot- 
 rests, which in cold weather are heated by warm water ; and 
 
478 Voting Folks' Histo?y of London. • 
 
 the screen of the desks, which is hollow, is provided with air- 
 chambers, by which the atmosphere is purified. The cata- 
 logue is placed in circular shelves surrounding the officials' 
 desk at the hub of the wheel, and it fills over three hundred 
 large folio volumes. When the reader first receives the ticket 
 that entitles him to use the room, an assistant is assigned to 
 teach him how to consult the catalogue and to apply for 
 books ; but the classification of the books is so admirable, 
 that the novice soon finds that he has the immense collection 
 at his fingers' ends, and needs no further help. What trea- 
 sures that colossal catalogue opens ! The historian may here 
 find the fountain-head of knowledge, and read the testimony 
 of authors who lived in the times he wishes to describe, — 
 times so remote, perhaps, that Caxton had not then set up 
 his printing-press in Westminster Abbey, and the only record 
 of them is in laboriously written missals. 
 
 Coming to the time of printed books, he finds the original 
 editions of Caxton and Wynkyn de Worde, and copies of 
 books that have been owned by Lord Bacon, Michael An- 
 gelo, Charles the First, Katharine Parr, Ben Jonson, Martin 
 Luther, John Milton, Isaac Newton, Dean Swift, and Sir 
 Walter Scott. The titles to works referring to Shakespeare 
 and to the several editions of his plays fill two of the large 
 folio volumes of the catalogue ; and of other famous books, 
 one hundred and four different editions of the " Pilgrim's 
 Progress " may be examined, one hundred and twenty-four 
 editions of " Paradise Lost," and one hundred and two edi- 
 tions of " Robinson Crusoe." 
 
 From the Royal libraries given by George the Second and 
 George the Fourth we can learn what the tastes of the sov- 
 ereigns were by the books they possessed. James the First 
 was fond of political and philosophical works, — a taste 
 shared by his son Charles. Charles the Second read for 
 amusement, and George the Third was fond of history. 
 
1884. The Collection of Bibles. 479 
 
 The Royal Library, which was formed by the sovereigns 
 from the time of Henry the Seventh to George the Second, 
 is rich in memorials of the Tudors and Stuarts. It contains a 
 New Testament which belonged to Anne Boleyn ; the Greek 
 Grammar of Edward the Sixth ; Queen Mary's copy of Ban- 
 dello's novels, which are said to have supplied Shakespeare 
 with the plots of many of his plays ; old almanacs on which 
 Charles the First scribbled his name when Prince of Wales ; 
 and a fine copy of the second edition of the " Pilgrim's Pro- 
 gress," which belonged to Charles the Second. 
 
 The collection of Bibles includes the Mazarine Bible, so 
 called because the copy which first attracted notice in mod- 
 ern times was discovered in the library of the Cardinal of 
 that name ; the Elector of Saxony's copy of Martin Luther's 
 translation of the Bible ; Myles Coverdale's Bible, dated 1530, 
 the first printed in England ; and Martin Luther's own copy 
 of the German Bible. 
 
 Two documents that were important in their results to 
 England are also among the treasures of the Library. One of 
 them is the Papal Bull in which Innocent the Third accepts 
 the Kingdom of England from King John, and the other is 
 the famous Magna Charta. The latter is inclosed within a 
 glass frame, and has a fragment of the seal hanging from it. 
 Having once escaped destruction by fire in 1731, it was care- 
 fully extended upon coarse canvas ; but the ink has become 
 very pale, and the writing is nearly illegible. 
 
 Another historical document in the collection is the Bull 
 of Leo the Tenth, conferring the title of " Defender of the 
 Faith " on Henry the Eighth ; and there is also a letter from 
 Henry the Fifth to the Bishop of Durham, dated Feb. 10, 
 1418. 
 
 The great ornament of the manuscript collection is an an- 
 cient Greek copy of the Scriptures, which is supposed to have 
 been made by a lady of Alexandria in the fourth or sixth cen- 
 
480 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 turies, and which was presented to Charles the First by the 
 Patriarch of Constantinople. It is one of the two most an- 
 cient copies of the Scriptures in existence. 
 
 In the same department are many volumes enriched by 
 the finest illuminators of different countries, and the " Basili- 
 con Doron " of James the First, — a treatise in his own hand- 
 writing on the art of government, addressed to his son, Prince 
 Henry, "showing how much easier it is to speculate plausibly 
 than to rule well." 
 
 Here, also, may be found the original manuscripts of 
 Sterne's " Sentimental Journey," Johnson's tragedy of 
 " Irene," Scott's " Kenilworth," Pope's " Iliad," Macaulay's 
 " History," and one of Ariosto's longer poems. Among 
 the documents is the Diary of John Locke, a despatch 
 written by Wellington on the field of Waterloo, a plan of 
 the battle of the Nile drawn by Lord Nelson, the Will of 
 Mary Queen of Scots, the Journal of the Duke of Mon- 
 mouth, and letters of Raleigh, Wolsey, Knox, Leicester, 
 Montrose, Bacon, Newton, Johnson, Voltaire, Marlborough, 
 Galileo, Racine, Moliere, Dryden, Addison, Swift, Goethe, 
 and Schiller. There are autographs of every English sov- 
 ereign from Richard the First to Victoria ; and we ought 
 not to fail to mention an old mortgage-deed signed by 
 William Shakespeare, nor an agreement signed by John 
 Milton, in which he disposes of " Paradise Lost " to 
 Samuel Simmons, the terms of the sale being five pounds 
 down, five pounds more after the sale of thirteen hun- 
 dred copies, and five pounds additional on each thirteen 
 hundred copies sold. 
 
 Says Mr. Edward Walford : " As to whether this Library 
 [the British Museum] or that of the Louvre in Paris has the 
 most books, is a disputed point ; probably we are below the 
 Louvre in manuscripts, and about equal to it in the number 
 of printed books. ... At present all is collected that issues 
 
1884. Famous Readers. 481 
 
 from the English press, down to the most insignificant work 
 on crochet, a child's missionary magazine, the directory of 
 a country town, a circulating-library novel ; and everything 
 that is collected finds its place on the shelves and in the 
 catalogue, in the conviction that it may often be a point of 
 importance to preserve one copy of even a worthless work in 
 a repository where it may be instantly referred to in case 
 of need." The privilege of claiming from the publishers 
 a gratuitous copy of every work printed in the English 
 dominions, which had been claimed by the Crown since the 
 time of Charles the Second, accompanied the gift of the Royal 
 Library by George the Second ; and it is interesting to add that 
 a similar privilege in connection with American books belongs 
 to the Congressional Library at Washington. 
 
 The reading-room in old Montague House, which pre- 
 ceded the present one, was frequented by half-a-dozen 
 readers. One of the first to avail himself of it was the 
 poet Gray, who wrote in a letter : " I often pass four hours 
 in the day in the stillness and solitude of the reading-room." 
 Isaac Disraeli was another of the few persons who visited it ; 
 but it was scarcely used at all by the general public. When 
 better accommodations were provided, the attendance in- 
 creased to hundreds ; and, spacious as the present room is, it 
 is hardly large enough to accommodate all who wish to use 
 it. Many distinguished men have utilized this splendid Lib- 
 rary,— among others Sir James Mackintosh, Sir Walter Scott, 
 Charles Lamb, Washington Irving, William Godwin, Dean 
 Milman, Leigh Hunt, Hallam, Macaulay, Campbell, Bulwer 
 Lytton, Charles Dickens, Thackeray, Douglas Jerrold, Louis 
 Philippe, Louis Napoleon, Guizot, Thiers, George Eliot, 
 Carlyle, Charles Reade, Robert Browning, Swinburne, 
 Froude, and Wilkie Collins. 
 
 To-day, looking around the room, one would be sure to 
 discover some famous author, traveller, or scientist. The 
 
 3* 
 
482 Young Folks History of London. 
 
 occupations of the readers cover nearly every branch of learn- 
 ing. Here, as rusty in dress and as sallow in complexion as 
 the old denizens of Grub Street, is a painstaking, detail-seek- 
 ing encyclopedist, his head shut in by a three-sided barricade 
 of books. There a pedagogue is deeply engrossed in the 
 comparison of a score or more books of the Latin Principia ; 
 there, again, a parson is fortifying himself for next Sunday's 
 sermon ; and here a shabby man in a mechanic's dress is con- 
 sulting the files of an engineering magazine, to see that his own 
 invention does not infringe the patents of others. This man 
 with the rapid pencil is taking notes for a pamphlet, which 
 will be struck off the press in a few hours to meet the sudden 
 demand for information on some vexed political question on 
 which the Government has staked its existence ; and that 
 young fellow, who is better dressed than most of the rest, 
 and carries himself with a saucy air, is a literary " free lance " 
 from Fleet Street, who will not take more than half an hour 
 in equipping himself for the destruction of a profound work 
 by a great scientist on a subject of which until now the critic 
 has been wholly in the dark. 
 
 These are types which any one can discern any day in the 
 Reading-room. The preacher, the journalist, the inventor, 
 the bookmaker, the schoolmaster, and the critic, — these are 
 bees in this hive who produce some contribution to popular 
 information in return for what they absorb. 
 
 But there is another class, the bibliomaniacs and book- 
 worms, who plod along aimlessly, and to whom reading is 
 not the means to an end, but a form of gluttony. They 
 come in all weathers, not minding the slush and fogs of 
 winter, nor the allurements of summer. As soon as the 
 doors are opened they take their accustomed places, and, 
 surrounded by piles of books, sit there the whole day 
 through, uttering no word, and not pausing even for 
 luncheon, a bit of bread crammed into the mouth, while 
 
1884. Many Kinds of Students. 483 
 
 the eyes are still poring over their books, sufficing for that 
 meal. There are women among them, — poor creatures with 
 red eyelids and dowdy dresses, who are no less close in their 
 application than the men. If their labor were productive, it 
 would be less pathetic ; but nothing comes out of it \ they 
 have a thirst, but the more they drink the more parched and 
 voiceless they become. In contrast with them are some assid- 
 uous workers for publishers, the scribes of Paternoster Row, 
 who read enormously and write enormously. Most of them 
 are scholars and gentlemen of irreproachable lives and great 
 ability ; but it so happens that their talents are not of the 
 kind which earn large wages ; and, toiling as they do, poverty 
 still stares them in the face, until the end comes, and the 
 word passes in a whisper from desk to desk, that they have 
 learned a greater secret than the most precious volume the 
 Reading-room contains, — the secret of that bourne whence 
 no traveller returns. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Abbey, Westminster, character of, 403. 
 
 See Westminster Abbey. 
 Addington, Judge, pacifies the people, 
 
 147- 
 
 Alfred, King, takes and rebuilds Lon- 
 don, 13. 
 
 M Almanac, Old Moore's," issued by 
 Stationers' Company, 306. 
 
 Alms distributed by the guilds, 290. 
 
 Alsatia, old nickname for Whitefriars, 
 3/6. 
 
 America, traces of history of, seen in 
 Westminster Abbey, 422. 
 
 Andre, Major, monument to, in West- 
 minster Abbey, 422. 
 
 Andrewes, Bishop of Winchester, edu- 
 cation of, 289. 
 
 Anne, Queen, size of London during 
 reign of, 131. 
 
 Antwerp lends money to English at 
 high rates, 347. 
 
 Apothecaries' Company, hall of, 304. 
 
 Apparition seen at Tower by the 
 Swifts, 229. 
 
 Apprenticeship, seven years', necessary 
 to enter a trade-guild, 277. 
 
 Archbishops and bishops members of 
 House of Lords, 436. 
 
 Armorers, Company of, fine plate kept 
 in hall of, 305. 
 
 Armories, ancient and curious, in the 
 Tower, 240 ; always attached to the 
 halls of the different guilds, 293. 
 
 Askew, Anne, put to the rack, 230. 
 
 Assistants, Court of, great privileges 
 of, 283. 
 
 Association, Protestant, formation of, 
 142. 
 
 Audley, Lord, with Cornish rebels, 
 routed at Blackheath, 51. 
 
 Authors, quotations from, concerning 
 Westminster Abbey, 404. 
 
 Bailey makes great display as a 
 
 dandy, 449. 
 Baily, Captain, sets up hackney-coaches, 
 
 170. 
 
 Ball, John, leader in Wat Tyler's in- 
 surrection, 40. 
 Bank of England, peculiarly massive 
 building of, 318 ; notes of, how 
 printed, 321 ; counting and sorting 
 of coin in, 322 ; simplicity of offices 
 in, 325 ; first designed by Paterson, 
 327 ; defeats a run by paying six- 
 pences, 329 ; tries to break Childs' 
 Bank, 330. 
 
 Banking, notice of its rise and pro- 
 gress, 326. 
 
 Banquets, provision and management 
 of, by the different companies, 38 ; 
 Lord Mayors', splendor and ex- 
 pense of, 253 ; Coronation, notice 
 of, 431. 
 
 Barebones, Praise-God, attacked by 
 mob, 107. 
 
 " Barnaby Rudge," Dickens's descrip- 
 tion of the Gordon riots in, 158. 
 
 Baxter, Richard, anecdote of his 
 preaching, 384. 
 
 Becket, Thomas a, begins his career. 
 20; quarrels with Henry IT., 21; 
 story of death of, 22 ; has chapel on 
 Old London Bridge, 193. 
 
 Beckford, William, writes " Vathek " 
 at one sitting, 262. 
 
 Beefeaters, name for guides about the 
 Tower, 235. 
 
 Bells on Royal Exchange, pathetic 
 story of, 353. 
 
 Besant, Walter, his shrewd analysis of 
 the Cat story, 274. 
 
 Bibles, very old, preserved in British 
 Museum, 479. 
 
 Bill of fare at an early banquet, 38. 
 
 Billingsgate, great fish-market at, 200. 
 
 Blackheath, Wat Tyler's insurrection 
 at, 39 ; Cade's rebels muster at, 47 ; 
 Cornish rebels defeated at, 51. 
 
 Blood, Colonel, his attempt to steal the 
 crown jewels, 239 ; pardoned for his 
 crime, 240. 
 
 " Boar's Heail," famous tavern in 
 Eastcheap, 317. 
 
 Boat-races on the Thames, 211. 
 
486 
 
 Index. 
 
 Boleyn, Anne, anecdotes of her cor- 
 onation, 52. 
 
 Boleyn, Sir Geoffrey, Lord Mayor of 
 London, 247. 
 
 Books, lack of, in time of Knights- 
 Templars, 362 ; copy of all published 
 in Great Britain in British Museum, 
 481. 
 
 Bookworms, always found in British 
 Museum, 482. 
 
 Boonen, Guilliam, made coachman to 
 Queen Elizabeth, 170. 
 
 Boys used on steamboats instead of 
 bells, 200. 
 
 Briant, Alexander, severe torture of, 
 230. 
 
 Bridewell, horrors of New Prison, 386. 
 
 Bridge, New London, building and 
 opening of, 197. 
 
 Bridge, Old London, built very early, 
 34; destroyed by Norsemen, 190; 
 historic scenes upon, 194. 
 
 Bristol, at one time second town in 
 England, 131. 
 
 Brummel, Beau, prince of English 
 fops, 449. 
 
 Brunswick, House of, Doggett com- 
 memorates accession of, 311. 
 
 Brute, or Brutus, reputed founder of 
 London, it ; legend relating to, 259. 
 
 Bull, Dr. John, organist to James I., 
 298. 
 
 Buns, Chelsea, peculiar excellence of, 
 208. 
 
 Button opens new coffee-house, 135. 
 
 Cade, Jack, rebels, and gathers men 
 
 at Blackheath, 47. 
 Campion, priest, tortured almost to 
 
 death, 230. 
 Canning, George, notable speech of, at 
 
 the banquet at Fishmongers' Hall, 
 
 296. 
 Canute, King, makes London famous, 
 
 J 3- 
 
 Carriages, early scarcity of, 169 ; in- 
 troduction of, described by Stow, 
 170. 
 
 Cat, supplies Wyatt with food in pris- 
 on, 218 ; story of Whittington and 
 his, 266; same story of, examined 
 by Besant and others, 272; always 
 found in Whittington's portraits, 
 
 2 73- 
 Catalogue, great, of library in British 
 
 Museum, 478. 
 Catholics, inscription against on the 
 
 Monument, 129; great hatred of, 
 in London, 141. 
 Cave, printer, starts " Gentleman's 
 
 Magazine," 366. 
 Cells, terrible style of, in the Tower, 
 
 229. 
 Cesspools abolished, and new plan of 
 sewerage formed, 162. 
 
 Chair, curious, seen at Fishmongers' 
 Hall, 296. 
 
 Chairs, Coronation, at Westminster, 
 described, 420. 
 
 Chancellor, Lord, especial dignity of, 
 439 ; presides in House of Lords, 
 441. 
 
 Chapel of Henry VII., great beauty of, 
 416. 
 
 Chapels and monuments in West- 
 minster Abbey, 413. 
 
 Charing Cross, early notice of, 82. 
 
 Charles I., fatal quarrel of, with the 
 Parliament, 90 ; robs the Mint, 
 326 ; attempts to restore St. Paul's, 
 397 ; tried at Westminster Hall, 
 429 ; opens Hyde Park to the pub- 
 lic, 445. 
 
 Charles II., great magnitude of Lon- 
 don in time of, 94 ; rejoicings at 
 accession of, 107 ; proclaimed king 
 at Temple Bar, 356 ; spends much 
 time in Hyde Park, 446 ; improves 
 St. James's Park, 461. 
 
 Charter granted to London by William 
 I., 15. 
 
 Charters, early, granted to citizens of 
 London, 243. 
 
 Cheapside, famous for pageantries, 51 ; 
 sketch of its appearance, 177. 
 
 Chelsea, pensioners at, 207. 
 
 Child, Francis, very early English 
 banker, 327 ; early business history 
 of, 333 ; daughter of, runs away with 
 Lord Westmoreland, 334. 
 
 Childs' Bank, saved from Bank of 
 England, 330 ; passes to Earl of 
 Jersey, 335 ; used to rent room over 
 Temple Bar, 360. 
 
 Citizens compelled to pay for every 
 liberty, 244. 
 
 Clerkenwell, prison of, broken up and 
 burned, 150, 
 
 Clothworkers, or Shearmen, Company 
 of, 314. 
 
 Club, Kit-Kat, celebrated assembly of 
 great men, 132. 
 
 Coaches, hackney, 1 70. 
 
 Coal, tax laid upon, to pay for the 
 rebuilding of St. Paul's, 398. 
 
Index. 
 
 48; 
 
 Cockade, blue, worn by followers of 
 Gordon, 142. 
 
 Coffee-house, Will's, frequented by 
 wits and authors, 132; Button's, 
 patronized by Addison, 135. 
 
 Coffee-houses, early importance of, 101. 
 
 Colechurch, Peter, designs Old Lon- 
 don Bridge, 190. 
 
 Commons, House of, not open to pub- 
 lic, 432 ; its impressive aspect to a 
 stranger, 433 ; proceedings in, at 
 opening of Parliament, 434 ; special 
 courtesies of, 435. 
 
 Companies (Guilds), the twelve great, 
 in London, 279 ; composition of, 
 280 ; wealth of, 284 ; extensive char- 
 ities of, 287. 
 
 Copyright, requires entry at Station- 
 ers' Hall, 305. 
 
 Coronation, ceremony always at West- 
 minster, 410, chairs used at cere- 
 mony of, 420. 
 
 Cox and Fielding mobbed by the Gor- 
 don rioters, 150. 
 
 Cromwell, head of, spiked on West- 
 minster Hall, 430. 
 
 Crowd, motley, formerly seen about 
 Royal Exchange, 338. 
 
 Curiosities, odd list of, comment upon, 
 105 ; innumerable, in British Muse- 
 um, 473. 
 
 Dandies, extravagant habits of, de- 
 scribed, 447. 
 
 Danes plunder London in early times, 
 13. 
 
 Darien, Paterson tries to found col- 
 ony in, 328. 
 
 Davenant, his remarks on the bad 
 streets of London, 136. 
 
 Davy, Sir Humphry, condemns gas- 
 lighting, 166. 
 
 De Burgh builds Whitehall, 182. 
 
 Defoe, Daniel, his account of the Great 
 Plague, no, 115. 
 
 Desks and shelves, arrangement of, at 
 British Museum, 477. 
 
 Dickens, Charles, his vivid description 
 of the Gordon riots, 158. 
 
 Dogget, Thomas, bequest of, 311. 
 
 Dome, of St. Paul's, statement of di- 
 mensions of, 403 ; at British Muse- 
 um, prodigious size of, 476. 
 
 Downing Street, 183. 
 
 Drapers' Company, banquets of, 312. 
 
 Dream, prophetic, told to William 
 Staines, 263. 
 
 Dress, in time of Elizabeth, described, 
 
 62. 
 Dryden keeps up reputation of Will's 
 
 house, 135. 
 Duels often fought in Hyde Park, 450. 
 Durham, Bishop of, early financier, 16. 
 
 Eagle, Solomon, fanatic, roams 
 about London, 11S. 
 
 Eastcheap, historic memories of, 317. 
 
 Edward I. brings Stone of Scone to 
 London, 420 
 
 Edward HI. first real helper of Lon- 
 don, 35. 
 
 Edward IV., early prowess, and recep- 
 tion of, 48. 
 
 Elizabeth, Queen, delivers England 
 from persecution, 55 ; improvements 
 of her time, 58 ; torture much used 
 in her time, 231 ; visits and names 
 the Royal Exchange, 351 ; hunts in 
 Hyde Park, 444. 
 
 Embankment, Victoria, description of, 
 178; Aibert, noticed, 181. 
 
 Epping Forest, 465. 
 
 Erkenwald, Saint, traditions about, 
 392. 
 
 Evelyn, John, interesting story of 
 Great Fire, 126. 
 
 Exchange, Royal, burned in Great 
 Fire, 125, 352 ; splendor of, in Ad- 
 dison's time, 131 ; founded by son 
 of Sir Richard Gresham, 261 ; at 
 first only an open square, 34 1 ; first 
 built by Sir Thomas Gresham, 342 ; 
 named " Royal " by Elizabeth, 351; 
 second building of, burned, 353. 
 
 Eyre, Sir Simon, Lord Mayor, his 
 curious joke, 260. 
 
 Fairfax, Lady, intrepidity of, 430. 
 
 Farrar, Archdeacon, reflections on 
 Westminster Abbey, 404. 
 
 Fawkes, Guy, connected with Gun- 
 powder Plot, 82 ; anniversary of his 
 disgrace, 86; his answer to James 
 I., 1S2. 
 
 Fire, precautions against in early days, 
 121. 
 
 Fire, Great, ravages the city, 94 ; ori- 
 gin and progress of, 122 ; described 
 by Evelyn, 126. 
 
 Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, execu- 
 tion of, 21S. 
 
 Fitzstephen, his account of Tower of 
 London, 16. 
 
488 
 
 Index. 
 
 Fitzwarren, probably true character in 
 Whittington story, 272. 
 
 Flags, Battle, kept at Chelsea Hos- 
 pital, 208. 
 
 Forest, Epping, perpetual gift to the 
 people, 465. 
 
 Gardens, Kew, botanic, great popular 
 resort, 199, 212; Kensington, loca- 
 tion and nature of, 457; Zoological, 
 in Regent's Park, 465. 
 
 Garrick, David, recites before Cave, the 
 printer, 366. 
 
 Garth, Dr., witty remark on his pa- 
 tients, 132. 
 
 Gas first proposed for street lighting, 
 166. 
 
 Gate, Traitor's, prisoners landed at, 
 226. 
 
 George III. determines to suppress 
 the Gordon riots, 153. 
 
 George IV., ridiculous dandyism of, 
 448. 
 
 Gog and Magog, wooden images in 
 Guildhall, 259. 
 
 Goldsmith, Oliver, residence of, at the 
 Temple, 372. 
 
 Gordon, Lord George, his turbulent 
 measures, 142 ; marshals his men to 
 attack the Parliament, 145 ; further 
 inflames rioters, 146; petition of, 
 rejected by the Commons, 147; ar- 
 rested and imprisoned, then ac- 
 quitted, 157 ; imprisoned for life for 
 libel, 158. 
 
 Grasshopper used as a crest by the 
 Greshams, 35 t. 
 
 Gresham. Sir Richard, his noble friend- 
 ship for Wolsey, 261. 
 
 Gresham, Sir Thomas, builds first Ex- 
 change, 342 ; personal notes of his 
 character, 345 ; becomes financier for 
 the Tudors, 347 ; does much to im- 
 prove English credit, 348; tradition 
 of his infancy, 351 ; charities and 
 sudden death of, 352. 
 
 Gresham, Michael, name given found- 
 ling boy, 353. 
 
 Gretna Green, lay marriages performed 
 at, 334- 
 
 Grey, Lady Jane, sad story of, 221 ; 
 execution of, for treason, 222. 
 
 Grocers, history of the Company of, 
 
 SOS- 
 Guildhall not destroyed by Great Fire, 
 
 259. 
 Guilds, first formed, 35 ; keep saints' 
 
 days with festivity, 27 ', in danger of 
 losing ancient powers, 280 ; nobles 
 enrolled as members of, 315. 
 
 Gunclulf, monk, builds Tower of Lon- 
 don, 16. 
 
 Gunpowder proves useful in arresting 
 the progress of the Great Fire, 126. 
 
 Gunpowder Plot, some notice of, 82. 
 
 Halicarnassus, Mausoleum of, in 
 British Museum, 473. 
 
 Hall, Westminster, built by William 
 Rufus, 19; Goldsmiths', description 
 of, 294 ; Fishmongers', described, 
 295; Mercers', notice of, 297 ; Mer- 
 chant Taylors', splendid festival at, 
 298 ; Drapers', location and mention 
 of, 302 ; Skinners', location and de- 
 scription of, 303; Vintners', fine tap- 
 estry and paintings at, 304 ; Sta- 
 tioners', obscure location of, 305 ; 
 Fellowship Porters', annual sermon 
 at, 312; Inner and Middle, at the 
 Temple, 371 ; Westminster, forms 
 part of the Palace, 429. 
 
 Halls, splendid, occupied by the guilds, 
 290. 
 
 Hamilton, Duke of, his duel with Lord 
 Mohun, 451. 
 
 Hampstead Heath, 465. 
 
 Hampton Court, 215. 
 
 Hastings, Warren, great trial of, at 
 Westminster Hall, 430. 
 
 Hawkwood, John, history of, 301. 
 
 Heming, Edward, first undertakes to 
 light London, 9S ; his plan for main- 
 taining street lights, 166. 
 
 Henry I. grants fresh charter to Lon- 
 don, 19. 
 
 Henry II., proves a deliverer of the 
 people, 20 ; partisans of, murder 
 Thomas a Becket, 21 ; humbled at 
 Becket's shrine, 22. 
 
 Henry III., London makes war with, 25. 
 
 Henry VII., beautiful chapel of, in 
 Westminster Abbey, 416. 
 
 Henry VIII. takes Hyde Park for royal 
 preserve, 444. 
 
 Herbert, Colonel, overawes Lord 
 George Gordon, 148. 
 
 Hewet, Sir William, story of his 
 daughter, 197. 
 
 Hoare, Bank of, old, and still in opera- 
 tion, 330. 
 
 Holbein, his picture of Henry VIII. 
 giving a charter to the Barber-Sur- 
 geons' Company, 305. 
 
Index. 
 
 489 
 
 Holland House, residence of many no- 
 table people, 458. 
 
 Horse-chestnuts, fine grove of, at 
 Bushey Park, 215. 
 
 Hospital, Chelsea, for disabled sea- 
 men, 207. 
 
 Hunter, Dr. John, anatomical museum 
 of, 380. 
 
 Hvde, Justice, tries to disperse mob, 
 148. 
 
 Hyde Park, first made public by 
 Charles I., 445 ; becomes occupied 
 by fashionables and dandies, 446 ; 
 celebrated people to be seen in, 450 ; 
 used for military reviews, 453 ; its 
 great usefulness to common people, 
 457- 
 
 Inn, Lincoln's, location of, 376. 
 Irving, Washington, reflections on 
 Westminster Abbey, 404. 
 
 James I. and the Lord Mayor, story 
 of, 94 ; promotes the construction of 
 the New River, 165 ; coaches first 
 common in time of, 170: well an- 
 swered by Bishop of Winchester, 
 289; becomes a Clothworker, 314; 
 as a huntsman, 444. 
 
 Jersey, Earl of, proprietor of Childs' 
 Bank, 335. 
 
 Jewels, crown, description of, 236 ; 
 Blood's attempt to steal, 229. 
 
 Jews and Lombards only bankers in 
 Middle Ages, 326. 
 
 Johnson, Dr., predicts use of gas, 
 166 ; his curious meditations at 
 Temple Bar, 360 ; writes for Cave, 
 the printer, 366 ; has rooms in Inner 
 Temple, 375 ; personal appearance 
 of, described, 38 5. 
 
 Jonson, Ben, contrasted with Shak- 
 speare, 58 ; further notice of, 61 ; 
 story of his early studies, 379. 
 
 Juxon, William, Bishop of London, 
 his education, 288. 
 
 Kensington Gardens, 457. 
 
 Kew Gardens, favorite point for ex- 
 cursions, 199. 
 
 Kings of England obliged to ask en- 
 trance at Temple Bar, 355. 
 
 Lambeth Palace, 204. 
 Lane, Petticoat, 186. 
 
 Langdale distillery destroyed by the 
 Gordon rioters, 153. 
 
 Laurie, Sir Peter, his clumsy style of 
 boasting, 262. 
 
 Leman, John, grand inauguration of, 
 249. 
 
 Librarians in British Museum, singu- 
 lar aptness of, 475. 
 
 Libraries given by sovereigns to Brit- 
 ish Museum, 470. 
 
 Library, Royal, deposited in British 
 Museum, 479. 
 
 Lincoln, Earl of, gives name to Lin- 
 coln's Inn, 379. 
 
 Liverymen, position of as members of 
 guilds, 283. 
 
 London, divine origin of, claimed by 
 Romans, 1 1 ; primitive people of, 
 sketched, 14 ; vigilant early police 
 of, 25 ; early manners and customs 
 in, 26 ; Chaucer's description of the 
 people of, 29 ; appearance of, at end of 
 fourteenth century, y 3 ; first helped 
 and encouraged by Edward III., 35 ; 
 Archbishop of Canterbury, killed by 
 Tyler's mob in, 43 ; early notice of 
 fogs in, 57; street scenes in, depict- 
 ed, 66 ; reflections after walk in, 70 ; 
 vast influence of, under Charles I., 
 86 ; influence of, over royal fortunes, 
 93 ; streets first lighted in, 98 ; citi- 
 zens of, contrasted with countrymen, 
 102 ; distressed by Great Plague, 
 109 ; new plans for, after Great Eire, 
 127; bad character of street life in, 
 135 ; benefited by new police. 161 ; 
 statement as to population of, 186 ; 
 citizens of, early favored by kings, 
 243 ; rapacity of some kings exercised 
 upon, 244 ; great foppery in, during 
 time of Shakspeare, 341. 
 
 Lord Mayor, title conferred by Ed- 
 ward III., 247. 
 
 Lords, House of, 436, 439. 
 
 Lords and Commons, legislation shared 
 between, 441. 
 
 Lovat, Lord, last person beheaded in 
 England, 226. 
 
 Lovelace, poet, dies of starvation, 386. 
 
 Lyceum Theatre first lighted with 
 gas, 166. 
 
 Macaroni, new dish introduced by 
 
 fops, 448. 
 Magazine, Gentleman's, first printed 
 
 at St. John's Gate, 366. 
 Magna Charta, granted by King John, 
 
490 
 
 Index, 
 
 22; the original document in Brit- 
 ish Museum, 479. 
 
 Magnaville, Geoffrey de, story of death 
 of, 369. 
 
 Malefactors confess crimes from mere 
 terror, 1 14. 
 
 Manners during time of Elizabeth, 
 sketch of, 65. 
 
 Mansfield, Lord, the Gordon rioters at- 
 tack house of, 150; magnanimity of, 
 toward Lord George Gordon, 157. 
 
 Manuscripts, curious original, in Brit- 
 ish Museum, 4S0. 
 
 Marbles, Elgin, brought from Athens 
 to British Museum, 473. 
 
 Mary, Queen, her persecutions of Prot- 
 estants, 52. 
 
 Masts and funnels lowered when steam- 
 ers pass under bridges, 203. 
 
 Mayor of London, office of, established 
 by King John, 247. 
 
 Mayor, Lord, costliness of his office, 
 253; manner of election of, 254; 
 numerous and curious duties of, 255; 
 peculiar and remarkable rights of, 
 256. 
 
 McGragh, his singular duel with four 
 adversaries, 452. 
 
 Mellitus, first bishop to preach at St. 
 Paul's, 391. 
 
 Merchants, English, witty description 
 
 of, 35 2 - 
 
 Middleton, Hugh, brings new water- 
 supply to London, 165. 
 
 Milton, John, his lodgings, 3S9. 
 
 " Mohocks," rowdy ruffians so called, 
 
 J 35- 
 
 Monmouth, Geoffrey of, his story of 
 London, 11. 
 
 Montague House, first location of Brit- 
 ish Museum, 470. 
 
 Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley, made 
 queen of the Kit-Cat Club, 132. 
 
 Monteagle, Lord, warned of Gun- 
 powder Plot, 85. 
 
 Montfort, Earl of Leicester, 25. 
 
 Monument erected where Great Fire 
 began, 12S. 
 
 Monuments, of various worthies at St. 
 Paul's Cathedra], 400; great number 
 of at Westminster Abbey, 413. 
 
 Morass, London really built upon a, 12. 
 
 Morris, Peter, contrives water-supply 
 for houses, 162. 
 
 Mulcaster, Richard, schoolmaster, se- 
 verity of, 288. 
 
 Museum, British, building of described, 
 467 ; founded by Sir Hans Sloane, 
 
 468 ; ridiculed by wits and wags, 
 
 469 ; first set up in Montague House 
 
 470 ; prodigious collection seen in, 
 473; great reading-room at, 474; 
 conditions for reading at, 475 ; won- 
 derful comprehensiveness of, 476; 
 very rare manuscripts in, 479 ; great 
 diversity of readers in, 4S3. 
 
 Museum, South Kensington, notice of, 
 1S5. 
 
 Navy, Royal, watermen enrolled in, 
 
 Needswell, flogged at Drapers' Hall, 
 
 3 l 3- 
 
 Newgate, prison, sacked and burned by 
 the Gordon rioters, 149. 
 
 Nobles, many belong to guilds, 315-, 
 titles of, explained, 439 ; great num- 
 ber of, seen in Rotten Row, 454. 
 
 Nonsuch House, building on Old Lon- 
 don Bridge, 193. 
 
 " No Popery," riots, referred to, 139 ; 
 party cry of the rioters, 145. 
 
 Norsemen break down Old London 
 Bridge, 190. 
 
 Olave, King, destroys London Bridge, 
 190. 
 
 " Old Lady of Threadneedle Street," 
 name for Bank of England, 31 8. 
 
 Omnibuses, immense gathering of, 
 about the Mansion House, 337. 
 
 Oranges, early introduction of, into 
 England, 346. 
 
 Osborne, famous leap of, from Lon- 
 don Bridge, 187. 
 
 Ovenston, maker of curious chair, 296. 
 
 Overy St. Mary, story of, 1S9. 
 
 Owen, Nicholas, commits suicide in 
 the Tower, 232. 
 
 Pageantry, remarkable, at Leman's 
 inauguration, 250. 
 
 Palace, Westminster, its many his- 
 toric changes, 426 ; Kensington, 
 historical notes of, 458 ; St. James's, 
 built, or repaired, by Henry VIII., 
 462 ; Buckingham, special residence 
 of Queen Victoria, 465. 
 
 Park,~Hyde, early condition and habi- 
 tants of, 444 ; Green, located near 
 Hyde, 461; St. James's, 461; Re- 
 gent's, great size of, 465. 
 
 Parks, in London, early character of, 
 
 443- 
 Parliament, Houses of, described, 425. 
 
Index. 
 
 49 1 
 
 Paterson, William, designs first Bank 
 of England, 327 ; later operations 
 and death of, 329. 
 
 Payne, Will, story of his obstinacy, 36. 
 
 Peel, Sir Robert, establishes new po- 
 lice, 162. 
 
 Pepys, Samuel, his stories of Great 
 Fire, 122; criticises the Merchant 
 Taylors, 301. 
 
 Perceval, Spencer, assassination of, 
 
 383. 
 Philpot, John, Lord Mayor, destroys 
 
 pirates, 260. 
 " Pix, Trial of the," performed by the 
 
 Goldsmiths' Company, 295. 
 Plague, Great, in London, 94 ; distress 
 
 during, 109 ; finally disappears in the 
 
 colder weather, 119. 
 Plate, splendid, in possession of the 
 
 guilds, 294. 
 Poet's Corner, in Westminster Abbey, 
 
 421. 
 Police, new, 16 r. 
 
 Pomander, curious preparation of or- 
 anges, 346. 
 'Prentice boys begin to be prominent, 
 
 73- 
 
 Press, printing, first brought to Eng- 
 land, 48. 
 
 Procession, Lord Mayor's, magnifi- 
 cence of, 248 ; partly formed by trade 
 companies, 278. 
 
 Prophets and fanatics swarm through 
 London during the Great Plague, 
 no. 
 
 Pudding Lane, Great Fire begins in, 
 122. 
 
 Puritans stop repairs on St. Paul's, 
 397- 
 
 Quacks and pretenders in London 
 during plague, 113. 
 
 Rack, engine of torture used in the 
 
 Tower, 230. 
 Railway, Underground, 171, 176. 
 Raleigh, Sir Walter, long imprisonment 
 
 of, 222 ; later exploits and execution 
 
 of, 225. 
 Readers, remarkable facilities for, at 
 
 British Museum, 475 ; distinguished 
 
 character of some of the, in same, 
 
 481. 
 Reading-room, immense, in British 
 
 Museum, 474. 
 Records, destroyed by Wat Tyler's 
 
 mob, 40. 
 
 Relics, ridiculous collection of, in Old 
 St. Paul's, 395. 
 
 Rennie, John, builds New London 
 Bridge, 197. 
 
 Richard II., his presence of mind be- 
 fore rioters, 43. 
 
 Rioters, the Gordon, terrible fury and 
 destructiveness of, 152; suppressed 
 by soldiery, 154. 
 
 Riots often caused by the 'prentices, 
 
 73- 
 River, New, great work of Middleton, 
 
 165. 
 Rochester, Gundulf made Bishop of, 
 
 16; Bishop Flambard of, curious 
 
 escape from prison, 19. 
 Romans, antiquities of , still in London, 
 
 *3- 
 
 Rotten Row, great avenue of nobility 
 and fashion, 453 ; probable deriva- 
 tion of name of, 454. 
 
 " Rump," history of the, 107. 
 
 Ryswick, Peace of, celebrated by first 
 service at St. Paul's, 398. 
 
 Saints, patron, always adopted by 
 
 trade-guilds, 278. 
 Sanctuary, right of, long claimed by 
 
 Whitef riars, 376. 
 Saville, Sir George, tolerant spirit of, 
 
 141 ; house of, stripped and burned, 
 
 148. 
 Savoir-vivre, club formed by dandies, 
 
 448. 
 School, Merchant Taylors', notice of, 
 
 287. 
 Scone, Stone of, placed under Corona- 
 tion Chair, 420. 
 Seamen, disabled, at Chelsea, 207. 
 Sebert, King, builds the first abbey at 
 
 Westminster, 409. 
 Sentries, gloomy duties of, about the 
 
 Tower, 227. 
 Servants of Lord Mayor, amusing 
 
 titles of, 256. 
 Shakspeare, his "Twelfth Night" 
 
 performed at the Temple, 371. 
 Sloane, Sir Hans, sells collections to 
 
 form a national museum, 468. 
 Smithfield, martyrdoms inflicted at, 
 
 Soane, Sir John, founds art museum, 
 
 380. 
 Society, literary, in time of Elizabeth, 
 
 69. 
 Society, Royal, founded by Charles II., 
 
 105. 
 
492 
 
 Index 
 
 Soldiers, valuable, furnished by Lon- 
 don, 89 ; succeed in checking riot- 
 ers, 154. 
 
 Southwark. early play-house in, 65. 
 
 Staines, Sir William, history of, 263. 
 
 Stationers' Company, the, and the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury, 307. 
 
 Steamboats on Thames described, 199. 
 
 Stephen made king by influence of 
 London, 19. 
 
 Stone, of Scone, placed under Corona- 
 tion Chair, 420. 
 
 Stones, building, of immense size in 
 British Museum, 467. 
 
 St. John, Order of, property of Tem- 
 plars given to, 366. 
 
 St. Paul's, early building of, 34 ; con- 
 sumed by Great Fire, 125 ; rebuilt 
 under direction of Wren, 12S; ori- 
 gin and early history of, 391 ; de- 
 voted to business and full of idlers, 
 396 ; ineffectual effort to restore, 
 
 397 ; wholly burned in Great Fire, 
 
 398 ; effect of its style, 399 ; monu- 
 ments and statues in, 400 ; dimen- 
 sions of, stated, 403. 
 
 Strand, the, begins to assume settled 
 
 style, 81 ; as a great thoroughfare, 
 
 described, 383. 
 Streets, dirty, formerly universal in 
 
 London, 97 ; dangerous at night, 98 ; 
 
 former bad management of, 136. 
 Suburbs, London rapidly overrunning 
 
 its, 1S5. 
 Swift, Dean, satirizes men of science, 
 
 106. 
 Swift, Edward, sees apparition at the 
 
 Tower, 229. 
 
 Taverns, celebrated, in and about 
 Temple Bar, 384. 
 
 Taxes, oppressive, levied by early 
 kings, 26. 
 
 Taylor, John, the "Water-Poet," his 
 tirade against coaches, 308. 
 
 Taylor, Jeremy, reflections on West- 
 minster Abbey, 408. 
 
 Templars, origin and character of, 362. 
 
 Templars, Knights, severe punish- 
 ments used by, 365 ; persecuted, 
 366 ; finally break up Right of Sanc- 
 tuary. 376. 
 
 Temple, grounds of, described, 361 ; 
 Church of, antiquity and beauty of, 
 369; Inner and Middle, devoted to 
 law, 370 ; Halls of, beauty and celeb- 
 rity of, 71 ; Inner, Hall of, surround- 
 
 ings of, 372; Dr. Johnson tenant 
 of, 375- 
 
 Temple Bar, removal of. 173, 355 ; 
 passage through, by various sove- 
 reigns, 356 ; notable events happen- 
 ing at, 359 ; first building of, erected 
 by Wren, 360. 
 
 Thames, wafer of, supplied to city by 
 Morris, 165 ; bridge early built over, 
 189 ; view of important features 
 from, 204 ; scenes along the upper 
 part of, 211; Lord Mayors' shows 
 upon, 249 ; former great usefulness 
 of, for travel, 309 ; scenery of, 310. 
 
 Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 upholds Henry II., 20. 
 
 Thurloe, John, secretary to Cromwell, 
 
 379- 
 
 Tombs, great number of, at Y\ est- 
 minster Abbey, 418. 
 
 Torture, abominable means of, used at 
 the Tower, 232 ; finally abandoned 
 in 1640, 235. 
 
 Tower of London, begun by William 
 I., 15 ; addition by Henry III., and 
 story thereon, 34 ; general descrip- 
 tion of, 217; curious ceremony of 
 locking up, 227. 
 
 Trade-guilds, early character and pur- 
 pose of, 277. 
 
 Treason, heads of those executed for, 
 set on London Bridge, 193. 
 
 Tyburn, place of common execution, 
 
 5 1 - 
 
 Tyburnia, elegant modern suburb, 457. 
 Tyler, Wat, account of his revolt, 39. 
 
 Vase, Portland, or Barberini, in Brit- 
 ish Museum, 474. 
 
 Veto, power of, enjoyed by Lord 
 Mayor, 256. 
 
 Viaduct, Holborn, description of, 184. 
 
 Victoria, Queen, opens present Royal 
 Exchange, 353; notified, at Ken- 
 sington, of her accession, 458. 
 
 Vincent, Jenkin, character of a 'pren- 
 tice boy, yy. 
 
 Walworth, Sir William, strikes 
 
 down Wat Tyler, 43. 
 Wardens of the guilds, powers and 
 
 duties of, 36. 
 Watermen, great number of, formerly 
 
 on Thames, 308 ; bad manners of, 
 
 3 ir - 
 Watermen's Company, hall of, 306; 
 privileges of, 306. 
 
Index. 
 
 493 
 
 Water-supply, gradual improvement 
 in regard to, 162. 
 
 Watt, James, ridicules gas-lighting, 
 166. 
 
 Westminster Abbey, historic interest of, 
 404 ; quotations on, 407 ; story of its 
 first consecration, 409 ; coronation 
 always held at, 410. 
 
 Westminster Hall, coronation ban- 
 quets at, 431. 
 
 Westmoreland, Earl of, his trick for a 
 wife, 333. 
 
 Whitefriars, or Alsatia, bad character 
 of, ioi ; unpleasantness of the dis- 
 trict, 376. 
 
 Whitehall, improvements made in, 82 ; 
 great changes produced at, 182. 
 
 Whittington, Richard, most famous 
 Lord Mayor, 259 ; story of his 
 youth, 265 ; modern biography of, 
 269; history of his family, 271 ; his 
 costly entertainment of Henry V., 
 274 ; death and excellent record of, 
 275. 
 
 Wilkes, John, fights duel with Martin, 
 452. 
 
 William I. favorable to St. Paul's, 
 392. 
 
 William Rufus strengthens Tower of 
 London, 16. 
 
 Windsor first uses gas, 166. 
 
 Wolsey, Cardinal, long resident at 
 Whitehall, 1S2; and others, dwell- 
 ers at Hampton Court, 215 ; re- 
 ceives great kindness from Gresham, 
 261. 
 
 Wool, tax laid upon to build Old Lon- 
 don Bridge, 190. 
 
 Woolsack, 440. 
 
 Wren, Sir Christopher, his new plans 
 for London, 127 ; plans of, for Lon- 
 don finally rejected, 128 ; builds new 
 St. Paul's, 398; ungracious treat- 
 ment of, 399. 
 
 Wyatt, Sir Henry, his painful im- 
 prisonment, 217 ; relieved from 
 hunger by a cat, 218. 
 
 York, first official capital of England, 
 12. 
 
 York, Princes of the house of, mur- 
 dered in the Tower, 218. 
 
 University Press: John Wilson & Son, Cambridge. 
 
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