/ /// r/ir f>," if \fihai ANNALS OF S. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL BY HENRY HART MILMAN, D.D LATE DEAN OF Ar.TAR TO TITAXA WITH PORTRAIT AND ILLUSTRATIONS LONDON JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET 1868 The riyht of translation is resernecl LONDON : PEINTED BY SI'OTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARIi AND PARLIAMENT STISEKT INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. THE FOLLOWING WORK was written, and a large portion of it had been revised for publication, when the hand of the Author was stayed by that illness which ended so sadly for all those who, anxiously watching, desired his recovery. It had formed the labour, the pleasant occupation, of the last few months of his life ; and he had thrown himself into the history of his Cathedral with all that unflagging industry, with all that fresh- ness of interest, which was so marked a feature in the character of one who ever did with all his might what- soever he found to do. It is not for his family, who loved him so much, to express any opinion upon the merits of this the latest fruit of his genius, though they could not fail to be struck by the wonderful brightness and intellectual vigour which shone forth, as it seemed to them, from every word he wrote or spoke. To other more impartial judges belongs the duty of lite- rary criticism ; to them it is remitted in fullest confi- dence, that the name of HENRY HART MILMAN will be held entitled to no unworthy place upon the roll of. those distinguished men whose lives are here recorded, and who, like him, in former times, have presided as Deans over the Cathedral of S. Paul. I may not say more ; I cannot say less. vi INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. The Annals close with the funeral of the Duke of Wellington, but I know that it was my father's inten- tion to have added a few more pages in which he would have given some account of the present aspect of the Cathedral, and of the proposals which have recently been put forward for its completion and de- coration. These farewell words he never wrote, but the subject was so near his heart that I am advised it should not be altogether passed over. I have ven- tured, therefore, to make the necessary brief addition, but in doing so have religiously used his own words and expressions, so far as I have been able to discover them, either from the imperfect rough notes which he had committed to paper, or from his own letter, written some years ago to the Bishop of London, when first the project was discussed. A detailed statement of the works which have already been executed, and of those in contemplation, has been drawn up by Mr. Penrose, the Surveyor of S. Paul's, and will be found in the Appendix. In conclusion, I ought gratefully to acknowledge, as my father would himself assuredly have done, the valuable and interesting Appendix which has been furnished by his friend, Archdeacon Hale. ARTHUR MILMAN. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. S. PAUL'S, UNDER THE ROMANS AND THE SAXONS. PAGES Roman and Christian London Ancient Catacomb Worship of Diana Roman Christianity iBishop Mellitus S. Erkenwald Munificent Grants to Bishop of London and to the Dean and Chapter of S. Paul's 1-14 CHAPTER II. S. PAUL'S, UNDER THE NORMANS. William the Conqueror William, Bishop of London Council in S. Paul's S. Paul's burnt New Cathedral Bishop Gilbert Foliot Dean Radulph de Diceto Paul's Cross Interdict on London King John in S. Paul's 15-44 CHAPTER III. S. PAUL'S AND THE PAPAL LEGATES. Papal Power in England The Legate, Cardinal Otho Council in S. Paul's Sermon and Canons of Otho University of Oxford excommunicated Bishop Roger the Black Boniface, Archbishop of Canterbury Bishop Henry de Wengham Ugo Falcodi, Legate Bull of Pope Boniface VIII. Will of Bishop Gravesend Murder of Bishop of Exeter Simon of Sudbury beheaded by In- surgents ........... 45-73 CHAPTER IV. S. PAUL'S, WYCLIFPE AND THE WTCLIFFITES. William de Courtenay, Bishop of London John of Gaunt Wycliffe Tumult in S. Paul's Robert de Braybroke Henry IV. and ii CONTENTS. PAGES Richard II. in S. Paul's Residentiaries Convocations in S. Paul's Archbishop Arundel Sentences in Convocation Bishop Re- ginald Pecock His Writings and Confession His Condemnation as an Heretic . 74-97 CHAPTER V. S. PAUL'S, DURING THE WARS OP THE ROSES. / Thomas Kemp, Bishop of London King Henry in S. Paul's York's Oath of Fidelity Reconciliation in S. Paul's Concord and Unity Edward IV. at S. Paul's The Body of King Henry exposed in S. Paul's Dr. Shaw's Sermon Penance of Jane Shore Magni- ficence of Bishop Kemp 98-109 CHAPTER VI. s. PAUL'S, ON THE APPROACH OF THE REFORMATION. Obscure Prelates Colet, Dean of S. Paul's Erasmus Colet on his Travels, and at Oxford His Lectures on Genesis Colet as a Preacher Convocation Bishop Fitz James Colet accused of Heresy His Sermon at Westminster His Statutes for S. Paul's Works of Erasmus S. Paul's School Death of Colet . 110-128 CHAPTER VII. THE CHAPTER OF S. PAUL'S. REVENUES. FABRIC OF THE CATHEDRAL. Chapter of S. Paul's Thirty Canons Bishops of London The I );! Residentiaries 'Domesday of S. Paul's' Manors of the Chapter Estates of Prebendaries Officers of the Cathedral Royal Funerals Chantries Mass Priests Chapels Oblations Shrine of S. Erkenwald Division of Oblations Reliques The Fabric Indulgences Paul's Cross City Processions Lord .M uyor'u Day Gilbert Becket 128-168 CHAPTER VIII. APPROACH OF THE REFORMATION. Bishops of London Marriage of Prince Arthur and Kathorine H.-nry VIII. at S. Paul's The Eternal Peace Luther condemned in S. Paul's Dean Richard Pace His Malady and Ill-usage Burning of the English Bible The Six Prisoners Clergy under 1'nuruunire Chapter House of S. Paul's Bishop Stokesley Sermon on the Divorce The Nun of Kent King's Supremacy CONTENTS. ix PAGES Burning of Anabaptists Hugh Latimer His Sermons Crom- well, Vicar-General Bishop Bonner Barnes and Gardiner Protestant and Papal Martyrs Proclamation of Peace Last Holo- caust of Henry VIII.'s Reign 169-210 CHAPTER IX. S. PAUL'S, UNDER EDWARD VI. Signs of coming Change Edict of the Council Grey Friars' Chronicler Obits and Chantries abolished Plunder of the Cathe- dral Spoils of S. Paul's in Spain Petition of Dean and Chapter Latimer and Ridley The Reformers The Protector Somerset Sacrament of the Altar Bonner examined and deposed Ridley, Bishop of London Abolition of Holidays The Anglican Liturgy and Service Demolition of Ornaments . . . 210-231 CHAPTER X. S. PAUL'S, UNDER QUEEN MART. Catholic Reaction Ridley's Fall Riot and Sermons at Paul's Cross Bonner restored Convocation at S. Paul's Restoration of the Rood Cardinal Pole in S. Paul's Gardiner's Sermon John Rogers His Trial and Martyrdom Trial and Death of Bishop Ridley Bonner in Power His Articles of Inquisition Proces- sions and Burnings Deaths of Queen Mary and Cardinal Pole . 232-254 CHAPTER XI. S. PAUL'S, UNDER QUEEN ELIZABETH. Accession of Elizabeth S. Paul's Cross silent Sermons at the Cross Images removed Deposition of Canons Obsequies of Henry II. of France Grindal consecrated and Bonner deposed End of Bouner Peter Martyr Elizabethan Bishops Religion of Elizabeth Church Property Lands of the Bishop of London The Clergy Bishop Grindal No well, Dean of S. Paul's Fire in S. Paul's Sermons of Nowell and Pilkington Morwen's Pamphlet and Pilkington's Reply Rebuilding and Reopening of the Church Edict of City of London Abuses in S. Paul's Con- vocation of the Clergy Sandys, Bishop of London Bull of the Pope John Felton Pope Pius V. Puritanism Preaching of Dering Bishop Aylmer Martin Marprelate Bishop Fletcher Nowell's Sermons and Gifts to the Queen Nowell at the Duke of Norfolk's Execution Conference with Campian Policy of Elizabeth Missionary Priests Difference of Persecution Defeat of the Spanish Armada Plays at S. Paul's Lotteries before S. Paul's . 255-314 x CONTENTS. CHAPTER XII. S. PAUL'S, UNDER JAMES I. PAGES Bancroft, Bishop of London State of the Church King James in S. Paul's Bishops of London in the Reign of James I. Epitaph on Bishop Ravis Bishop John King Dean Overall's Convoca- tion Book Dean John Donne His early Life and Poetry His Sermons and Preaching Dean Winnif . . . . 315-330 CHAPTER XIII. S. PAUL'S, UNDER CHARLES I. RESTORATION BY INIGO JONES. Bishop Laud His Character Inigo Jones S. Paul's restored by Inigo Jones The West Front and Portico Sir Paul .Pindar The new Cathedral Sir John Denham and Waller Jeremy Taylor Juxon, Bishop of London and Lord High Treasurer His Retire- ment . 331-346 CHAPTER XIV. 8. PAUL'S, UNDER THE COMMONWEALTH. Parliament seizes the Funds subscribed for Repairs of the Church Debate on Abolition of Cathedral Chapters All Ornaments re- moved Cornelius Burgess Burgess, Anti-Dean State of S. Paul's Demolition of Paul's Cross 347-354 CHAPTER XV. THE RESTORATION. FIRE OF LONDON. Henchman, Bishop of London Dean Barwick Autobiography of Barwick Wren's Report on the Cathedral His proposed Remedy Fire of London Pepys' Account Evelyn's Account Doctor Taswell's Account Westminster Boys Burning of the Church Cause of the Fire Dryden . 355-373 CHAPTER XVI. MONUMENTS IN OLD S. PAUL'S. Monuments destroyed by the Fire Monuments of Bishops of Statesmen Sir Nicholas Bacon Sir Philip Sidney Walsingham Sir Christopher Hatton Epitaph to Sir Henry Croft Singular History of Sir William Hewet 374-384 CONTENTS. xi CHAPTER XVII. THE NEW CATHEDEAL. PAGES Bancroft, Dean of S. Paul's His Sermon upon the Fire His Letter to Wren Old S. Paul's doomed Determination to erect a new Cathedral Royal Proclamation Funds for the new Cathedral Coal Tax Sir Christopher Wren Wren, King's Surveyor Youth of Wren Wren as Philosopher and Architect His Travels S. Peter's S. Paul's The Two Designs The King's Warrant First Stone laid Ground on which S. Paul's stands Founda- tion of the Cathedral Sir Charles Lyell and Mr. Prestwich Foundation laid Cathedral begun The Revolution Bishop Compton Flight of Princess Anne Bancroft Archbishop Til- lotson Stillingfleet Religion and Writings of Tillotson Dean Sherlock Opening of new S. Paul's for Divine Service Queen Anne at S. Paul's Laying of the last Stone Sir Christopher Wren and the Commissioners Dismissal of Wren Interior of the Cathedral Cost of the Cathedral . . . . . 385-449 CHAPTER XVIII. S. PAUL'S, UNDER GEOEGE I. AND II. Christianity of Europe The Nonconformists Change in religious Tests Bishops and Deans during the Eighteenth Century Dean Francis Hare His Writings, Controversies, and Scholarship Bishop Lowth His Controversy with Warburton Lectures on Hebrew Poetry Bishop Porteous and Dean Newton Scheme for the Decoration of S. Paul's Ovational Processions Funeral of Sir Joshua Reynolds Robbery at S. Paul's Bishops and Deans of Nineteenth Century . . 450-479 CHAPTER XIX. THE MONUMENTS IN S. PAUL'S. Statue of John Howard Chronicle of Monuments Naval Heroes Funeral of Nelson Monument of Marquis Cornwallis Indian Warriors Military Heroes Heroes of the Peninsular War Monuments to Civilians Monument to Viscount Melbourne Funeral of Wellington Conclusion Modern Schemes for the Decoration of S. Paul's . 480-498 CONTENTS. APPENDICES A. Catalogue of the Books of Richard Gravesend in his Gar- deroba 501 B. Furnished by Archdeacon Hale : (1.) List of Obits in S. Paul's 504 (2.) Proceeds of the box for offerings under the great Northern Cross 516 C. By Mr. Penrose, Surveyor of S. Paul's. Scheme for the de- coration of the interior, showing the works which have already been executed, together with the names of par- ticular donors and benefactors to the church . . . 519 INDEX . . 525 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. POBTBAIT OP THE AUTHOR ...... Frontispiece ALTAK TO DIANA* (found under the Goldsmiths' Hall in Foster Lane) ......... Titlepaye CHURCH OF S. FAITH (underneath Old S. Paul's) 56 TOMB OF JOHN OF GAUNT, AND OF CONSTANCE HIS WIFE (between Two Columns on the North Side of the High Altar), from an Engraving in Dugdale 81 VIEW OF OLD S. PAUL'S, WITH INIGO JONES'S PORTICO . to face p. 338 THE BEAUCHAMP MONUMENT (in Old St. Paul's), com- monly known as the Tomb of Duke Humphry . . 376 FACSIMILE OF SIR PHILIP SIDNEY'S HANDWRITING . . 380 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN (from a Portrait by Kneller, in Gallery of the Royal Society) ,,394 SARCOPHAGUS OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON 494 S. PAUL'S, FROM THE RIVER 432 *PLAN OF S. PAUL'S AS ORIGINALLY DESIGNED BY SIR CHEISTOPHER WREN ..,.... 402 *SiDE ELEVATION OF S. PAUL'S (as shown in the Model of the First Design) ,,404 *PLAN OF S. PAUL'S ,,403 WEST VIEW OF S. PAUL'S ... . . 401 * From Fergusson's ' History of Architecture,' vol. iii. ERRATA. Page 4, line 23, for ' S. Sophia ' read ' Church of the Apostles.' 7, line 20, for ' placed' read ' was placed." ., 23, line 21, for ' resources' read ' revenues.' ,, 40, line 2, for ' that of ' read ' the reign of.' ,j - 45, line 11 , for ' assisted ' read ' assessed.' 67, line 17, for ' sermon ' read ' service.' 70, line 23,/or ' 1398 ' read ' 1338.' 80, line 5, for ' and seised ' read ' The King seised.' line 7, after the word ' Salisbury" add ' to enforce the forfeiture.' 87, line 21 , for ' refusing ' read ' refused.' 90, line 3 in note 1 , for ' Henry VI.' read ' Henry V." line 4 from bottom, for ' and ' read ' or.' ,, 108, line 3, after ' beauty ' insert 'created a profound sensation.' 114, note, for ' Siebold ' read ' Seebohm, et passim.' 115, line 12, 'no less' dele. ,, ] 23, line 8 from bottom, after ' metropolis ' insert a comma. ., 1G7, line 4, after ' Clergy ' insert ' and proceeded.' 172, line 4 from bottom, for sentence commencing ' on his entrance ' read ' on his entrance into London, the Pope's ambassador, the Florentine Protho- notary, was met by sundry lords in most excellent array, with some 400 horse. The streets were crowded with spectators eager to behold the Ambassador, the sword, and the hat. These insignia,' &c. 174, line 25,/or ' other ' read ' others.' ,, 176, line 8 from bottom, for ' hasto ' read ' tacto.' ., 178, line 22, for ' Jerusalem Chamber* read ' Chapter House.' 215, line 10 from bottom, after ' accumulated ' insert ' treasures.' 227, line 20,/or ' Ascension ' read ' Assumption.' ., 261, line 12, for ' Clemencieux ' read ' Clarencieux.' ,, 270, line 2 from bottom, after ' monks),' insert ' had been plundered.' 274, line 11, for ' Farrers' read ' Ferrars.' 375, line 5 from bottom, for ' Catherine of Castile ' read ' Constance of Castile.' ANNALS OP S. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL. CHAPTEE I. S. PAUL'S, UNDER THE ROMANS AND THE SAXONS. THE CATHEDRAL of S. PAUL stands on a site which CHAP. might seem designated and predestined for Divine worship. . Almost all, if not all, heathen religions affect high places for the temples of their gods. If, then, there was indeed a British city where London now stands, we might not unreasonably suppose that this spacious and commanding eminence might have been chosen for the celebration of the barbarous religious rites. If any faith could be placed in Druidism, as described by the Eoman writers, and em- bellished by later poetry, we might lead forth the white- robed priests in their long procession, with their attendant bards, their glittering harps and sounding hymns, from the oak-clad heights to the north of London, to offer their sacrifices bloody human sacrifices or more innocent ob- lations of the fruits of the earth on that hill- top, from which anthems have so long risen to the Redeemer of mankind. But Geoffrey of Monmouth's great Trinobantine city, the ' Troy-novant ' of later romance, has long vanished into thin air ; and London, more modest, must content itself B 2 ROMAN LONDON. with the fame of being an early and rapidly flourishing colony of our Eoman conquerors. It cannot justly aspire to an earlier date than the reign of Claudius ; and for that date we have the weighty authority of Tacitus. 1 There seems evidence, not to be contested, that on this eminence was a Eoman praetorian camp to defend and to command the rising city below. That a Eoman temple should stand beside, or in the neighbourhood of, the strong military position, is no great demand on our belief. In height and strength no eminence, in what was then Lon- don, could compare with the spacious esplanade on which S. Paul's stands. The imagination may find it diffi- cult, but may succeed in clearing if it may be so said and exposing its commanding elevation, as it rose in those distant days, when it looked down on the broad and clear, and yet unbridged Thames, ebbing and flowing at its feet, and, deep below to the west, the narrower, and then, no doubt, pellucid Fleet. This smaller rivulet, having welled forth from the dense forests which covered the hills to the north of London, and having wound its quiet course through the lower level, expanded into a navi- gable stream before it fell into the Thames. Ill-fated stream ! which, having gradually sunk to the ignomi- nious name of Fleet Ditch, became proverbial for its filth and foatid odours ; and in its last days, before it was closed for ever, was darkly immortalised by Pope, who plunged his Dunces into its foul waters, to rise again * in majesty of mud.' At length, as it were for very shame, the Fleet was hidden out of sight, and degraded to a dark and inefficient sewer. 1 ' At Suetonius . . . Londinium ' insigne,' as the maritime emporium ' pen-exit, cognomento quidem colonise for the traffic and supplies of the con- ' non insigne, sed copia negotiatorum querors. In Ammianus Marcellinus ' et commeiit iium maxime celebre." London bears the distinguished name Tac. Ann, xiv. 33. It rapidly became of Augusta. CHEISTIAN LONDON. 3 So soon as Christianity attained to strength and as- CHAP, cendancy in the Roman world, it would find its way into ~. ' r the provinces, even to the most remote, in all likelihood noiselessly and * without observation.' Sober history has long dismissed the fable of Joseph of Arimathea, even of S. Paul, preaching in Britain. The Apostle, in the time of the Emperor Claudius, would have found only a fierce and as yet doubtful conflict between the Roman legions and the yet barbarous and hardly broken tribes, with Boadicea at their head. King Lucius and the missionaries of his Court have likewise quietly withdrawn into the dim region of Christian mythology. In truth, of the first introduction of Christianity into Roman Britain, nothing is historically known. Yet, as soon as there were Chris- tian churches, there can be no doubt that there would be a church in London ; and that such church might be within the precincts of the great military fortress, is by no means improbable. I must not pass over the legend, unearthed by Dugdale from an obscure monkish chroni- cler, that, during the persecution by Diocletian, the church on the site of S. Paul's was demolished, and a temple to Diana built on its ruins ; while at Thorney (Westminster) rose a kindred shrine to Apollo; the heathen deities supplanting S. Peter and S. Paul. 2 This myth, however, must, at least in its larger part, follow the fictions of those, or rather of succeeding, ages. But of Diana more below. The Diocletian, or rather Galerian, persecution raged chiefly in the East, and in the West at Rome. Remote Britain, under the doubtfully faithful government of Constantius, the father of Constantine, can hardly have been much disturbed. At all events, the perse- cution lasted far too short a time for the destruction of ^ churches, and the building of heathen temples in their 2 Ellis's Dugdale, p. 3. it 2 4 ANCIENT CATACOMB. CHAP, place. 3 Of all this, the Roman temples and Christian - 'c ' churches, the authority, it must be acknowledged, is altogether vague and obscure, and so they may pass into oblivion. One singular fact, however, seems to rest on stronger evidence. No doubt on part of this area of S. Paul's there was a very ancient cemetery, in which not only successive generations, but successive races, deposited the remains of their dead. A cemetery, however, by no means implied a place of divine worship. With the Eomans rather the contrary. By the laws of the Twelve Tables, and by immemorial and unbroken usage, the interment of the dead within the walls of a city was inexorably interdicted. The urns of the great, after the practice of burning the dead prevailed, were alike banished beyond the Pomoerium. These laws and usages, no doubt, were enforced in all cities throughout the Koman empire. Till the days of dominant Christianity, when, in its more material form differing from the sublime spiritualism of S. Paul, it gave an inalienable sanctity to the buried body, interment .within a city, still less within a church, was unknown. Constantine was the first who broke through that law, and ordered his remains to repose in S. Sophia. ' "... I Q the camp, in as close conformity as possible with . this usage, the dead were buried in the vallum, the en- closing trench, beyond the actual precincts of the camp, yet secure from, hostile violation. That there was a catacomb excavated beneath, or on the declivity of, the hill- of S. Paul's, if not within the very outskirts of the Praetorium, there can be no doubt ; and that this catacomb contained the remains of successive masters and inhabitants of London. * Upon digging the foundation of the fabric of 1 The martyrdom of S. Alban (be the only tradition which can aspire it observed, a soldier, and the perse- to historical credibility. See Latin cution chiefly assailed the soldiery) is Christianity, vol. ii. p. 226. ANCIENT CATACOMB. 6 . 1 S. Paul's, lie (Sir Christopher Wren) found under the CHAP. ' graves of the latter ages, in a row below, the burial- r ' places of the Saxon times. The Saxons, as it appeared, ' were accustomed to line their graves with chalk-stones, ' though some more eminent were entombed in coffins of ' whole stone. Below these were British graves, wherein ' were found ivory and wooden pins of a hard wood, ' seemingly box, in abundance, of about six inches long. ' It seems the bodies were only wrapt up and buried in ' ' woollen shrouds, which being consumed, the pins remained ' entire. In the same row and deeper were Roman urns ' intermixed. This was eighteen feet or more, and belonged ' to the colony when Romans and Britons lived and died " 'together/ 4 Sir Christopher Wren dismissed the fable, as he esteemed '. it, of the temple of Diana, somewhat contemptuously. This temple rested on a very questionable and almost contradictory tradition (Dugdale's chronicler assigns it no higher date than Diocletian's persecution ; on wild etymo- logical fancies (so grave a writer as Selden derives London 'from the Rom an- Welsh Llan-den, the Church of Diana), but chiefly on a report, endorsed by Camden and others, of the exhumation on this site, in the reign of Edward III., ^ of ' an incredible ' quantity of skulls, bones of cattle, stag- Jiorns, boars' tusks, with instruments and vessels thought to be sacrificial. We say nothing as to doubts of the real owners of these bones, as determined in ante-Cuvierian days ; but it was decided without hesitation, that they were remains of ancient sacrifices, of course to Diana. In due time the learned took up their parable, and talked with grave solemnity of the Taurobolia, the votive offerings of bulls to that goddess. I suspect that the Taurobolia was an Eastern rite in honour of Diana the 4 Parentalia, p. 266. . 6 WORSHIP OF DIANA. CHAP. Nature goddess, the Diana Multiinamma, the Diana of _ ,' _. the Ephesians, not the Artemis, the Huntress Queen of the Greeks, or the Diana Yenatrix of the Romans. A more vulgar and less poetical theory seems never to have occurred, that the spot might have been the shambles, the slaughter-house (the Newgate Market) of the great Prae- torian Camp. Dr. Woodward was more modest, and insisted only on the more appropriate immolation of the stags, whose horns abounded, to Diana. Wren, however, refused to be persuaded. His first ar- gument, indeed, was by no means conclusive. He averred that in his own deep and searching excavations he found not a single shell, bone, or horn. Now, it is quite pos- sible that these ' incredible heaps,' in one spot, may have been entirely cleared away when they were discovered (no doubt at the time of the extension of the church into the choir), and no vestige of them may have remained in the other part of the soil. Wren however, on other grounds, continued obstinately sceptical, and did not yield to the arguments of his friend Dr. Woodward. Woodward, though unhappily the Martinus Scribblerus whose scoured shield was celebrated by the learned wits of his day, was an antiquarian of research ; and, to judge by his letters to Wren, not without good sense. He appealed to sacri- ficial vessels, and other undoubted Roman remains, in his own possession, and in the collection of a Mr. Conyers ; above all to an image of Diana, found between the Deanery and Blackfriars. 5 Wren, however, did not yield ; whether * The image is thus described: 'An ' lected into two knots, a larger at the ' icvnculus of Diana made of brass, ' top and a lesser behind the head. The ' and two inches and a half in height. ' arms are both bare, and quite naked. ' It is in the habit of a huntress, un- ' At her back, towards the right shoul- ' questionably ancient, and of Roman ' der, hangsaquivertied on by a fascia, ' make. The hair is very hand.somely ' passing over that shoulder, by the ' plaited, made up into a wreath, pass- ' breast, under the left arm, round to ' ing on each side the head, and col- ' the back. In the left hand has been ALTAR TO DIANA. 7 he wrote, may be doubted, certainly lie did not publish, the CHAP. reasons for his doubts. So at that time rested the right , - of Diana to a temple on the site of S. Paul's. But, extra- ordinary as it may seem, in our own day, the question has quickened again to new life. In the year 1830, in the excavations for the foundation of Goldsmiths' Hall, in Foster Lane, at no great distance from the cathedral, was found a stone altar, with an image of Diana, about which there can be no doubt or misapprehension. It is of rude provincial workmanship, yet in form and attitude closely resembling the Diana of the Louvre, the twin sister of the Apollo. Now, considering what capital hunting-grounds must have been the wild and wide forests to the north of London, peopled, as they doubtless were, with all kinds of game, deer, wild-boars, perhaps the urus (the wild-bull), it cannot be surprising that the Roman sportsmen, the ? fficers and soldiers of the great Pratorian camp, should ,aave raised altars and images to the goddess of the shase. It has been well-observed, that the shrine ' placed ' just where the old British road led forth the hunter by * the northern gates of the city, whose walls were en- { compassed by the primeval forest . . . we may conceive i the ancient votary of Diana to have made his oblation ' on going forth, or an offering of part of the spoils on 1 returning, to the tutelary goddess of his sports.' 6 ' a bow, in the right an arrow. The him by Mr. Alexander Chalmers (the ' habit is shortened, and girt up about compiler of the ' Biographical Diction- 'her waist, after the, manner of the 'ary'). Mr. Elmes, in his 'Life of ' cinctus Gabinus ; while it reaches not ' Wren,' p. 504, speaks of a refutation ' quite to her knees below, nor to the of Woodward's views in a disserta- ' hams behind. On the feetare the hunt- tion by Wren, in the possession of 1 ing buskins, extending over the ankles the same Mr. Chalmers. I suspect ' up to the lower part of the calf of the some confusion. The statue is not de- ' leg." Malcolm, Londimum Redivioum, scribed in Woodward's 'Letter to vol. iii. p. 509. Mr. Malcolm says that Wren,' London, 1713. What became he drew that description from a MS. of it? dissertation of Dr. Woodward's lent In Vestiges of Old London, "by John. 8 EOMAN CHRISTIANITY. CHAP. The Parentalia adds a description of the most curious _ ^ ' Roman urns, lamps, lachrymatories, and fragments ' of sacrificing vessels, &c. They were found deep in the ' ground towards the north-east corner of S. Paul's * Church, near Cheapside. They were generally well- ' wrought, and embossed with various figures and devices ' like the modern red Portugal ware.' . . . ' Some bright, ' like coral, and of hardness equal to China ware and well * glazed. ' 7 The Saxon invasion swept away every vestige of Roman civilisation and Roman Christianity, at least in the southern and eastern parts of the island. Of this Chris- tianity there are only very dim, and obscure, and doubtful reminiscences. My predecessor, Dean Radulph de Diceto, asserts that in the pre-Saxon times, one of the three British archbishoprics was in London. He makes it founded by King Lucius. I hope the good Dean had not the ambition, sometimes entertained by the Prelates of London, to wrest the primacy from Canterbury. The other two, he adds, were at York and Caerleon (S. David's). They followed the Roman provincial division of Britain Britannia Prima, of which the capital was London ; Maxima Ceesariensis, York ; Britannia Secunda, Caerleon. Restitutus, Bishop of London, was said to have been present at the Council of Aries, A.D. 314. 8 There can be no doubt, however, that under the Saxons Wykeham Archer, London, 1851, the for the 'antiquity of heathen worship, reader will find a full description, 7 Maitland(/4w^. of London, p. 1172) with a very good engraving, of this has a more full and minute account of remarkable monument, which still re- these antiquities, from the Conyers mains under Goldsmiths' Hall. I must MS. in Sir Hans Sloane's papers. add that my dear friend the Dean of Conyers was a great collector, but not Westminster must produce an image a rich man, and his collection was of Apollo as like that of the Belvedere dispersed during his lifetime, as this to the Diana of the Louvre, 8 Wharton, Episcopi Londinenses, before he can fairly compete with us p. 4. BISHOP MELLITUS. 9 London retained its importance as a capital city, and in CHAP. London the area of S. Paul's would remain a place of ' r dignity and strength. A Saxon fortress would occupy the site of the Eoman camp. A rude Saxon temple may have frowned down from the height above the Thames, where the Roman or Christian fanes had stood. This, however, is, of course, mere conjecture. But there is no reason to question the tradition (tradition here assumes the autho- rity of history), that Mellitus, the companion of Augustine, fixed his episcopal see in London. If there was any temple of a Teutonic Deity on this remarkable site, Mellitus might, .either immediately or with prudent delay, act in obedience to the wise counsel of the father of the mission, Pope Gregory the Great. In the well-known letter of that Pontiff, Augustine and his followers are enjoined to make the transition from the old faith as easy and unre- pulsive as possible. Places hallowed by the religious feelings of the heathen were to be occupied by Christian churches. All usages, not absolutely irreconcilable with the Gospel, were to be tolerated, till they should die away, or be transmuted by the mild influence of the new faith. According to Bede, however, the proceeding was more violent and summary. Mellitus was consecrated Bishop of London by Augustine alone ; the Pope condoned the irregularity, seeing that there was no other bishop in the island. The diocese assigned to Mellitus comprehended the whole kingdom of the East Saxons, Middlesex, Essex, and Hertfordshire. Ethelbert himself, King of Kent, with the sanction of Sebert, King of the East Angles, founded and endowed a 'magnificent' cathedral, dedicated to S. Paul. We know not how soon the e extreme West ' of the earlier writers was interpreted by the young believers in the island, as meaning Britain ; we know as little to whom the older Christian church was dedicated; but to whom 10 INTERREGNUM. CHAP, could the church in London be so fitly dedicated as to r ' the great Apostle of the Gentiles ? But clouds darkened A.D.609. over Mellitus and his see. Mellitus went to Rome to consult the Pope. The three sons, successors of King Sebert, being unbaptized, fell back to idolatry ; nor could Eadbald, King of Kent, who had again embraced Chris- tianity, compel the obstinate pagan Londoners to receive the bishop. Mellitus returned to Kent and became Arch- bishop of Canterbury. 9 For thirty-eight years heathen darkness brooded over London. There was no bishop ; S. Paul's was silent of Christian worship. After this a prelate, with a Saxon name Ceadda, brother of S. Chad of Lichfield, looms dimly through the darkness, and seats himself on the episcopal throne of London. He was, it is said, of the ancient Hiberno-Scotic descent; of that Church which did not acknowledge allegiance to Rome, followed the Quarto- deciman computation of Easter, arid differed in other rites. He is said too to have been consecrated in Northumberland by S. Finian, Bishop of the East Angles. As bishop he recanted his Quartodeciman heresy. Ceadda then sinks back into darkness, which settles again on the see of Lon- don, only to be dispelled for a short time by the fourth successor of Mellitus, the famous Saint Erkenwald. Erk- enwald stands out as a prelate whose legendary life teems with records of his munificence in raising and adorning the church of S. Paul with splendour rare in those days. On architectural details it is silent, and the history of the fabric of the church will be reserved for future exami- nation. The life of Erkenwald is instinct with miracles, which * It appears that the reliques of S. indulgence of forty days of the enjoined Mellitus were among the treasures of penance to all such as should solemn- the old church of S. PauL Theobald ise the festival of that blessed Con- Archbishop of Canterbury, granted an fessor. Dugdale, p. 6. S. ERKENWALD. 11 obtained for him the fame and honours of a Saint, and a CHAP. shrine at which generations, down to the Reformation, , worshipped in devout and prodigal faith. The legend is curiously characteristic of the zeal of the pious Bishop and of his times. Erkenwald was wont to preach in the wild forests, which lay around his cathedral city. For this purpose he was drawn about in a cart. On a certain day one of the two wheels we may suppose them heavily tried in the roadless waste came off; but the other, more faithful, would not permit the holy man to be interrupted or dishonoured in his sacred work, and alone supported the steady, though unbalanced, vehicle. This is one marvel of his life ; we must hasten to his death. Erkenwald had founded a monastery at Chertsey, of which he was Abbot, as well as Bishop of London. He died at Barking in Essex, where his sister had established a convent of nuns. The room in which he died was filled with indescribable fragrance. The monks of Chertsey hastened to Barking to possess themselves of the precious remains of their founder and abbot. The canons of S. Paul's (there were then canons, at least at the time wher the legend was composed) were equally alive to the sacred interest of their church, equally determined to possess the body of their Bishop. The population of London poured forth ; they seized the bier, and were bearing it off in triumph to the city. The monks of Chertsey and the nuns of Barking followed in tears, protesting against the unholy violence, and appealing to heaven in favour of their undoubted claims to the inestimable treasure. A terrible tempest came on. The river Lea was swollen to a great height, and arrested the procession. There was neither boat nor bridge. The canons, the monks, the priests, and the nuns all saw the manifest hand of God in the flood. Each party pleaded its cause with the utmost eloquence. But a pious 12 OBSCUKE BISHOPS AND DEANS. CHAP, man addressed the contending disputants, extorting them r ' to peace, and to leave the debate to the divine decision. The clergy began to intone their litany. The Lea, like the Jordan of old, shrank within its banks. The caval- cade crossed to Stratford. In that pleasant place the sun burst out in all its brightness, and the remains of the bishop passed on in triumph to the cathedral. From that time the altar of S. Erkenwald was held in the most profound and increasing honour: venerated by citizens, kings, even foreign kings, heaped with lavish oblations. The productiveness of the shrine may account for the rich- ness and vitality of the legend. The legend, no doubt, fostered the unfailing opulence of the shrine. 1 After S. Erkenwald darkness falls on the see and on the cathedral of London. We have a long barren list of Teutonic names of bishops, barbarously Latinised, not one of whom has left his mark in history, or even in legend. 2 S. Dunstan alone passes over the throne of London on his way to Canterbury. Dunstan is said to have held the see of London in commendam with the primacy. The rest of these prelates are unknown to fame as churchmen, as statesmen, as scholars or theologians. The list of deans is even more dreary, obscure, and im- perfect ; a few Saxon-sounding names and no more. Not one, I believe, of the countless Anglo-Saxon saints, so summarily and contemptuously discarded by the Normans, was Bishop of London or Dean of S. Paul's. But if the Bishops and Deans have sunk into utter oblivion, and have left no trace behind them, there is substantial proof of their influence, and of the estimation in which, if not themselves, the church to which they 1 The life of S. Erkenwald may be value of the offerings more hereafter, read in the appendix to Dugdale, and 2 The list may be read, if it can be in most of the hagiographers. Of the read, in Wharton. ESTATES. 13 belonged, was held. The Saxon kings and nobles were CHAP. prodigal in their munificence, and nowhere more prodigal ' r than in their gifts and grants to the Bishop of London and to the Dean and Chapter of S. Paul's. If the names of the Deans and Bishops have perished, the names of many of the estates with which the Church and Clergy were endowed, as well as the estates themselves, survive to bear witness to the reverence which they commanded through- out this period. Severe antiquarians will, I fear, impeach the authenticity of the Anglo-Saxon charters, which the Church used to boast. I would fain believe, if I could in conscience, the royal grant of the first Christian king Ethelbert, of Tillingham in Essex, which by a singular chance even now contributes largely to the maintenance of the fabric. But if the charters of Athelstane and other kings and queens be somewhat questionable title-deeds, the estates themselves, with few exceptions, were, till our day, in the possession of the Bishop or of the Chapter of S. Paul's. They are now swallowed up in the vast mass of property under the administration of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, or have been alienated under their power. Canute the Dane (the charter is in our archives, I believe of unquestioned authenticity) ratifies all the splendid dona- tions of his Saxon predecessors. During the reign of Canute, a certain Ailward, or Alfward, is said to have been appointed Bishop of London by the Anglo-Danish king, to whom he was related, before 1035, the year of Canute's death. Ailward was Abbot of Evesham, and held that abbey with the bishopric. Ailward was sent by some of the nobles to Flanders to invite Hardiknute to attempt the recovery of the throne. In 1044, the infirmities of age growing on Ailward, he wished to resign the bishopric and retire to Evesham ; but the monks refused to receive him. He found more wel- H BISHOP EGBERT. CHAP, come reception at Rarnsay, where lie died, having be ...*_.. ^ queathed rich endowments to tha.t hospitable abbey. 3 Edward the Confessor appointed Robert, a Norman, abbot of Jumieges, to the bishopric of London (A.D. 1044). Robert was translated to Canterbury A.D. 1050 (the Nor- mans were already in the ascendant). He was expelled with other Norman bishops, went to Rome to appeal, and died at Jumieges on his return, A.D. 1070. 4 3 Wharton, p. 34. < Ibid. p. 37. THE NORMANS. 15 CHAPTER II. S. PAUL'S, UNDER THE NORMANS. THE Norman Conquest feudalised the Church as well as the realm of England. The Kings did not cease to be munificent benefactors of the Church, especially of the church of London, but it is significant that the grant of the Conqueror to the Bishop of London was not an estate to be cultivated by peaceful tenants, husbandmen, shep- herds, or foresters, it was a strong castle, that of (Bishops) Stortford in Essex, with its military retainers, who, as will appear from a transaction hereafter to be noticed, did service to the prelate, and swore homage and fealty to him. The Bishop of London thus became a baronial noble. It does not however appear, that, at a later period, the bishop was so much merged in the baron as in other sees. On the accession of Stephen, it was the Bishop of Salisbury, with his nephews the Bishops of Lincoln and Ely, whose castles were besieged by the king as danger- ous to the royal power, and bade defiance to the royal authority. Stortford was too far from the metropolis to be of importance to the bishop as a place of strength. Nor does it seem that, in aftertimes, the Bishops of London, or the clergy of S. Paul's, took much part in the municipal or political affairs of the city. The Bishop and the Chapter never obtained, never aspired to obtain, that supreme power, which was exercised by many Bishops in Germany, France, and Italy, over great cathedral cities. London gradually grew up to most important power and influence. But it was the citizens of London, either re- 16 WILLIAM THE CONQUEKOE. CHAP, presented by their Mayor, or in defiance of his authority and ._,.,' _- that of his Aldermen, who asserted their independence, extorted charters from the sovereign, or accepted them ; took the lead in the great affairs of the realm ; espoused the party of this or that king, or claimant to the Crown ; stood forth, as will soon appear, asserting their right to de- termine the succession to the throne ; joined, as they did more frequently, or opposed as more rarely, the cause of freedom in all the struggles for the liberties of the realm. The Bishops and the Clergy, either quietly withdrew from all municipal affairs, or were steadily and firmly set aside, and limited to their spiritual functions, by the busy, stirring, and not unambitious citizens. The Tower of London remained, except on rare occasions, in the power of the Crown, and was a royal garrison to protect the obe- dient, or coerce and overawe the refractory, Londoners. William the Conqueror, when he ascended the throne of England, did not, as at Canterbury and in other dioceses, find a stubborn and, so the proud Norman asserted, an un- learned Saxon prelate, of doubtful loyalty, on the episcopal throne of London. On the elevation of the Norman Robert from London to Canterbury, a certain Sperafocus (this strange name is variously spelt), the Sparrowhawk, Abbot of Abingdon, had been appointed bishop. But the Norman Primate refused, alleging a positive prohibition from the Pope, to consecrate him. The Abbot, however, seems to have assumed the title and authority of Bishop. But, by some kind of Council, he was dispossessed, and a Norman that William appointed, was duly consecrated, A.D. 1104, by the Norman Primate. In the subsequent revolution, when the Primate and other Norman prelates were expelled from the realm, Bishop William shared their fate. But while the Primate was thrust back upon his Abbey of Jumieges, William of London, on account of his goodness, 1 was permitted to 1 ' Propter suam bonitatem.' Florence. WILLIAM, BISHOP OF LONDON. 17 return, and retained quiet, and from that time uncontested, CHAP, possession of his see. The discomfited Saxon retired to ^_ ^ his cell at Abingdon. Bishop William had been chaplain to the Confessor, a guarantee for his piety ; of his learning we hear nothing ; but he had in a high degree that best quality of a bishop, the power of securing the love and re- spect, even of his adversaries. The Norman Bishop rose at once into high favour with the Norman King ; and Bishop William used that favour as a peacemaker. Through his intercession the Conqueror restored and confirmed all the ancient privileges of the citizens of London, imperilled perhaps, if not forfeited, in the strife. At all events, it was a boon deserving the most profound and enduring gratitude. For years, for centuries, the Londoners made their annual pilgrimage to the tomb of the good Bishop, in the nave of S. Paul's. His epitaph 2 bore witness to their great reverence. In the seventeenth century (A.D. 1622), the Lord Mayor, Edward Barkham, caused these quaint lines to be set up on the tomb of Bishop William : Walkers, whosoe'er ye be, If it prove, you chance to see, Upon a solemn scarlet day, The City Senate pass this way, Their grateful memory for to shew, Which they the reverent ashes owe Of Bishop Norman here inhumed ; By whom this city has assumed 2 The Latin epitaph is better than Reddita Libertas, duee te, donata- most of its class : que multis, Hsec tibi, sancte Pater, posuerunt Te duce, res fuerat publica mune- marmora cives, ribus. Prsemia non meritis sequiparanda Divitias, genus, et famam brevis op- tuis. primit hora : NamquesibipopulusteLondoniensis Hsec tua sed pietas, et benefacta amicum manent. Sensit, et huic urbi non leve prse- Dugdale, p. 37. sidium. 18 THE CONQUEKOK'S GKANTS TO S. PAUL'S. CHAP. Large priviledges : those obtain'd By Mm when Conqueror William reign'd. This being by Barkham's thankful mind renew'd, Call it the monument of gratitude. 3 The procession certainly continued to the accession of Queen Elizabeth. ' The same day in the afternoon, Feb- * ruary 2, 155960, the Mayor and Aldermen and all the * crafts went to S. Paul's, and there heard a sermon, ' instead of going in procession about Paul's, and visit- ' ing the tomb of Bishop William, and suchlike super- ' stitions.' 4 Besides these privileges to the City, the Conqueror, if we may trust the grants, bestowed valuable privileges on the Church of S. Paul's. ' Some lands I give to God and ' the Church of S. Paul's in London, and special franchises, ' because I wish that this Church may be free in all things * as I wish my soul to be on the day of judgment.' The witnesses to this grant are Lanfranc, Archbishop of Can- terbury, Thomas of York, Roger Earl of Shrewsbury, and other nobles. Another discharges the Church of S. Paul from the payment of Danegeld and other payments, and from all services to the crown. 5 In the year 1075 William was still Bishop of Lon- don; though he died in the course of that year the * Dugdale, p. 37. ' nostrorum memoriam consueverunt.' 4 Cf. Strype, Annals, vol. i. p. 295. Wharton's work was published A.D. Dr. Kock has observed (Church of Our 1692; but after Wharton's death. Fathers, iii. p. 48), 'The procession Possibly some later Lord Mayor may ' from Guildhall to the church of S. have liked the procession better than ' Thomas of Aeon, then to S. Paul's, the sermon. ' then to the churchyard, to the tomb of 5 This charter is very suspicious; ' Becket's parents, must have been kept it recognises the Archbishops Aldhelm ' up some years after the change of and Stigand. The second grants ' sack ' religion.' For Wharton writes: 'Quod ' and sock, Thol and Theam, et Infan- ' quidem beneficium Londinenses adeo ' genetheof, Girthbriche, and alle fran- ' devinxit, ut anniversaria processione ' chises by strande and by lande, on ' senatores urbis eepulchrum ejus in ' tyde and of tyde,' &c. &c. Dugdale, ' navi Ecclesiae versus Occidentalem pp. 207, 208. 'portam circuire usque ad patrum COUNCIL IN S. PAUL'S. 19 Primate Lanfranc held a great Council in the Cathedral CHAP, of S. Paul's. This may be held the first full Ecclesias- -_ / _ tical Parliament of England. The Saxon Councils had been mostly local synods, 6 some held in obscure places, of which the site cannot be traced, nor the names of the Bishops present. 7 But this might seem to be recognised as the assemblage of the National Church, summoned to the capital city of the kingdom. Lanfranc was not only Primate of England, but perhaps the most famous theologian of that day in Christendom. The Council was attended by almost all the Bishops and greater Abbots of the realm, with the heads of the religious orders ; Thomas, Archbishop of York ; William, Bishop of London ; God- frey, Bishop . of Coutances, for many of the Bishops of Normandy held large possessions in England ; Walkelin of Winchester ; Herman of Sherburne (Salisbury) ; Wulf- stan of Worcester (the one Saxon prelate, on account of his holiness not dispossessed) ; Walter of Hereford ; Giso of Wells ; Remigius of Lincoln ; Herfast of Elmham (Norwich) ; Stigand of Selsey (Chichester) ; Osborn of Exeter ; Peter of Lichfield. Rochester was vacant ; Lin- disfarn or Durham, on some excuse, held good by the canon law, was also absent. Of the Welsh bishoprics no account is given, nor does Ely appear. The first question agitated in this great Council was the precedence of the Bishops. The Archbishop of York took his seat on the right of the Primate, the Bishop of London on the left. Winchester sat next to York. The consti- tutions passed in this Council were, as regarded the re- gular clergy, in the stern spirit of the Clugniac reform. 6 Wilkins. Londinense. There are several others, 7 It is difficult to understand why one in 711, in which the worship Wilkins entitles a synod held by Arch- of images was sanctioned. Wilkins, bishop Brithwald, A.D. 701, Concilium Concilia. c 2 20 COUNCIL OF LONDON. CHAP. The Norman Abbey of Bee, which gave Lanfranc, and ,-' afterwards Anselin, to England, founded by a wild bandit, had become the model of the severest discipline. The constitutions may be read at their full length it might be said interminable length in Wilkins. According to one, if any monk retained any property of his own, and died without having surrendered it to the community, and without confession or penance for his sin, the bells were not to toll for his death, no mass was to be said, nor was he to be interred with his brethren in the consecrated ground. But none of these monastic constitutions touched the secular canons of S. Paul's. Permission was granted to remove the See of Selsey to Chichester, of Sherburne to Salisbury, of Lichfield to Chester. But for these translations the assent of the Crown was deemed requisite. 8 No bishop was to ordain a clerk or monk of another diocese without letters dimis- sory. To repress the insolent forwardness of some indis- creet ecclesiastics, no one, except a bishop or an abbot, was to presume to speak in the Council without leave of the Primate. The law against marriage within prohibited degrees, extending to the seventh degree of relationship ; against the marriage of the clergy, as against Simony of all kinds, had all the austerity of the Hildebrandine school, accepted by the Norman prelates, at least by those from Bee. The Council descended to lower matters. No bones of animals were to be hung up (to avert cattle plague) ; all sortileges, auspices, divinations, and other works of the devil, were forbidden under penalty of excommunication. No bishop, or abbot, or clerk was to sit in judgment, or give his sanction to any sentence of death or mutilation. Such were among the decrees of what may be called the first Convocation of England; no doubt the first which This is honestly noted by Lingard, vol. ii. p. 72 (12mo ed.). S. PAUL'S BUENT. 21 sat in the Cathedral of S. Paul's, the cathedral of the capital city of the realm. But the cathedral in which Lanfranc sat at the head of the Clergy of England was doomed to speedy and utter demolition. Twelve years after, 9 fire (absit omen), the A.D. 1087. determined and fatal enemy of the Cathedral of S. Paul's (it should seem almost as destructive as the last in 1666), swept over the whole city of London. The Cathe- dral was either entirely consumed, or so damaged as to be unfit for public worship. Of this church, founded by Mellitus, and no doubt enlarged and adorned during the centuries of Anglo-Saxon rule, no record survives, as to its size, architecture, materials, or whether any portion of the gifts or estates bestowed by the prodigality of the Saxon kings was devoted to its maintenance or adornment. We have none of those curious details of its growth and expansion, as in some of the ch arches in the north of England York, Hexham, Lindisfarn under Wilfrid and Benedict Biscop, from enclosures of wattel and timber to stately buildings of stone, or of architectural improve- ments and decorations brought from Borne. The successor of Bishop William, HUGH OF OEWELL, A -- 1070. was a prelate only distinguished for the calamity which fell upon him. He became a leper; an object, if not of abhorrence, as a man smitten of God for his sins, of aversion, at best of commiseration, and an outcast of society. Notwithstanding a strange remedy, 1 as ineffectual as strange, Bishop Hugh remained a leper to his death. It seems almost unaccountable that this loathsome dis- ease, which was looked on, in the Middle Ages, if with singular mercy, 2 yet with much of the horror of unclean- 9 According to another authority, trav inrb TUV a.vQp n 1 E o | K D I O BONIFACE, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. 57 ' could not maintain the Minor Canons, nor with so large CHAP. ' a portion of their income in default, could they them- ,_!_ ' selves reside. After deducting the expenses of collection ' and other burdens hardly a fourth part would remain. ' So would hospitality altogether become impossible; alms ' to the poor would cease ; those who could not dig, and ' were ashamed to beg, would perish with hunger, or take ' to robbery and pillage.' 6 The remonstrance to the Pope ended with a significant appeal to a General Council shortly to be hoi den. Bishop Fulk had to repel the aggression of a more A.D. dangerous antagonist. The Primacy of England had been wrested from the Bishops of England. Where indeed all this time was the Primate of England, and who was he ? On the death of the unworldly and sainted Edmund Rich, the King and the Pope had forced on the too obsequious, afterwards bitterly repentant, monks of Canterbury, a foreigner, almost an Italian. Boniface, Bishop of Bellay, 7 was uncle to the Queen, and brother of that Philip of Savoy, the warlike and mitred bodyguard of Innocent IV., who became Archbishop of Lyons. Boniface was elected in 1241, confirmed by Pope Innocent not before 1244. The handsome, proud prelate found that Edmund, however saintly, had been but an indifferent steward of the secular part of the diocese. Canterbury was loaded with an enormous debt, and Boni- face came not to England to preside over an impoverished see. 8 He obtained a grant from the Pope of first-fruits 8 M. Paris, sub ann. 1'246. Wilkins' diaconate and the priesthood. The Concilia, vol. i. p. 686. Province and Convocation of Canter- 7 Boniface, when appointed Arch- bury were then under excommunica- bishop, was not in holy orders. tion. This was relaxed on condition Among the Papal Letters, vol. v. of a promise of obedience to Buniface. MS. B. M., is one which authorises 8 On debt of Canterbury, MS. B.M. his suffragans to admit him to the vol. iv. p. 278. 58 ARCHBISHOP BONIFACE IN S. PAUL'S. CHAP, from all the benefices in his province, by which he raised _J^i_- a vast sum. Six years after, the Primate announced, and set forth on a visitation of his province, not as it was said, and as too plainly appeared, for the glory of God, but in quest of ungodly gain. Bishops, chapters, monasteries must submit to this unusual discipline, haughtily and rapaciously enforced by a foreigner. From Feversham and Eochester he extorted large sums. He appeared in London, treated the Bishop (Fulk Basset, of the old noble Norman house) and his jurisdiction with contempt. The Dean of S. Paul's (Henry de Cornhill) stood by his Bishop. The Primate appeared with his cuirass gleaming under his pontifical robes. The Dean closed the doors of his cathedral against him. Boniface solemnly excommunicated Henry Dean of S. Paul's and his Chapter in the name of S. Thomas the Martyr of Can- terbury. The sub-Prior of S. Bartholomew's (the Prior was dead) fared still worse. He calmly pleaded the rights of the Bishop ; the wrathful Primate rushed on the old man, struck him down with his own hand, tore his splen- did vestment, and trampled it under foot. The Bishop of London was involved in the excommunication. The Dean of S. Paul's appealed to the Pope ; the excommu- nication was suspended. But Boniface himself proceeded in great pomp to Rome. The uncle of the Queen of England, the now wealthy Primate of England, could not but obtain favour with Innocent. The Dean of S. Paul's was compelled to submit to the supreme archie- piscopal authority.' 9 From Latin Christianity, vol. vi. of the life of Boniface. Compare p. 389etgpqq. Paris, sub ann. 1241-4, MS. B. M. vol. vi. p. 347, for the 1250,1256. See the letter from Pope resistance and excommunication (the Alexander, consolatory on the failure sentence) of the Dean of S. Paul's : of Boniface before Turin. Godwin de also of the sub-Prior of S. Bartho- Praesulibus contains a full abstract lomew's: on the excommunication of LEGATE RUSTAND. ,59 In some respects even more formidable was the strife of CHAP. Ill Fulk Basset with the Gascon Eustand j 1 more formidable -_ ,J because he had to resist almost alone the confederate au- thority of the King and of the Pope. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Boniface, was on the Continent, engaged in other affairs ; York was dead ; Winchester a Poitevin on the King's side, and therefore the accomplice of Eustand. Eustand exhibited his full powers as Legate before a Coun- A.D. 1255. cil held in S. Paul's. On learning the exorbitant demand of Eustand, a tenth on England, Scotland, and Ireland, Bishop Fulk cried aloud, ' Before I submit the Church to ' such slavery, I will lay my head on the block.' Bishop Cantelupe of Worcester, in less dignified phrase, said, ' I ' will be hanged first.' Eustand hastened to the King to denounce the Bishop as a rebel. The King heaped abuse upon the Bishop, and threatened him with Papal censure. The Norman replied, ' The Pope and the King may take ' away my bishopric, which however they cannot legally ' do ; they may strip me of my mitre, I shall still wear my ' helmet.' And in later days Fulk of London was as good as his word. He espoused the cause of the Barons. His name appears affixed to the provisions of the Parliament of of Oxford. In the year of his death, A.D. 1259 (he died of the plague), Bishop of London, p. 383. The Dean and Chapter of S. Paul's to sub- Archbishop had obtained, under grant mit to the Archbishop's visitation, of firstfruits, ' magnam quantitatem MS. B. M. vol. vii. sub ann. 1252. ' pecunise,' vol. vii. p. 16. Papal decree ' In the history of Latin Chris- against Dean and Chapter of S. tianity, the affair of Rustand is re- Paul's, p. 57. Archbishop Boniface lated not m strict chronological order, was exempted from visiting his four It was subsequent to that of Boniface. Welsh dioceses, ' propter guerrarum The history follows the sequence of ' discrimina, penuriam victualium,' b. events relating to the appointment of viii. Dated under InnocentlV. (1352) Prince Edward to the throne of was a papal decree to compel the Sicily. 60 HENEY DE WINGHAM. CHAP, two Canons, who had been forced into the Chapter of S. ,'-' Paul's by the Pope, endeavouring to install themselves, were killed by the populace. 2 So ended Bishop Fulk Basset, according to M. Paris, * a man, noble, and of great generosity ; though he once ' stumbled, he had been the anchor and shield of stability * and defence to the whole kingdom.' To the gallant Fulk Basset succeeded HENRY DE WING- HAM, who was, or aspired to be, the most magnificent pluralist, till the days of Wolsey, on record in the English Church. He was Lord High Chancellor when the see of London became vacant. He was obliged to take priest's orders to qualify himself for the bishopric. De Wingham had no jealousy of, or thought himself safer under, Papal dispensation. His license is extant, to hold the deanery of S. Martin' s-le- Grand in London, the chancellorship of Exeter, a prebend of Salisbury, and all his other parsonages, even other benefices. 3 A month after he obtained this de- cree, De Wingham, as Bishop of London, petitioned to hold all these preferments with London for five years. He does not seem to have ceased to be Chancellor. 4 But death did not respect either the civil or sacerdotal dignities of the Chancellor-Bishop. He died long before the five years elapsed. He was Bishop hardly three years, 1259-1262. 5 The actual successor of De Wingham, HENRY DE SAND- WITH, was elected November 12, 1262. Before Sandwith, Richard Talbot, Dean of S. Paul's, had been elected Bishop, but died the day after his confirmation, Sept. 20, 2 Wharton, p. 94. pay a certain pension of three marks * The document quoted, MS. B. M. sterling to Magister Jacobus, kinsman Latin Christianity, vol. vi. p. 382. of John de S. Germano, Subdiaconi 4 In 1257, the Dean and Chapter of et Notarii nostri. They refused to S. Paul's were bound over, under pay, and were to be compelled. MS. penalties by the Pope Alexander, to B. M. sub ann. 1257- DEAN RICHARD TALBOT. 61 1262. Sandwith was obliged to seek the King in France, and the Archbishop in Savoy. He was confirmed by Boni- face, and consecrated in May, 1263. Already, during the vacancy, the Bull of the Pope (Urban IV.) had been read at Paul's Cross, absolving the King from his oaths, taken to observe the provisions of the Parliament of Oxford, called in derision by the King's friends, the mad Parlia- ment. I presume that it was Richard Talbot 5 who as Dean excommunicated the Prior of Bermondsey, because he did not pay fifteen marks annually assigned by the Pope, Alexander IV. The case, appealed against, was decided in favour of the Dean. 6 It must have been on the va- cancy in the Deanery caused by Talbot's promotion, that the opportunity occurred of bringing the Deanery into the hands of the Pope. Orders came for provision to be made for John de Ebulo in some English cathedral. He laid claim to the Deanery of S. Paul's. The Chapter re- sisted. The Cardinal of SS. Cosmo e Damiano was com- missioned to hear the cause. The Italian resigned the deanery, and accepted a canonry instead : until a canonry should be vacant, certain pensions were to be paid to Ebulo. 7 Paul's Cross is historically part, and an important part, of the Cathedral. As preaching grew more popular, and began more and more to influence the public mind, the Cross (it will be described hereafter) became the pulpit, not only of the Cathedral, but almost of the Church in Eng- land. A collection of Paul's Cross sermons would be almost a history of the Anglican Church. But even before this it was the place for the publication of edicts not only eccle- siastical, but civil also, and of assemblage for the citizens of London on their own affairs. It was often the scene of 5 Wharton, p. 98. MS. B. M. vol. vi. ' MS. B. M. sub ann. 1264. 62 PAUL'S CROSS. CHAP, the popular folksmotes. During the present reign (in 1236), __4- a roll was discovered in the King's wardrobe at Windsor, sealed with green wax. From whence it came no one knew; but it was found to contain divers articles of complaint against the rulers of the city of London, that the com- monalty was grievously taxed and vexed. The roll was laid before the King. John Mansell, one of the King's Justices, appeared in the King's name at Paul's Cross, on the day of the conversion of S. Paul, and summoned a folksmote. Eichard de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, and others of the King's Council were present. Mansell ordered the roll to be read, and declared that it was the King's pleasure that the citizens should be ruled ' with virtue ; ' that the liberties of the city should be maintained ; that if the per- sons should be found who ' vexed' the citizens, they should be grievously punished for the example of others. 8 In 1259 another folksmote was summoned at Paul's Cross. The King himself was present, with his brother Eichard, King of Almayne, and the Archbishop of Canterbury. An oath of allegiance was administered even to striplings of twelve years of age, to be true to the King and his heirs. On that occasion, the gates of the city were kept by the King's guard. 9 Notwithstanding all this, when the crisis came, the citi- zens of London, with Lord Mayor Fitz Thomas, were ar- dently, resolutely on the side of the Barons, with Simon de Montfort and the liberties of England. The Bishop, Henry de Sandwith, threw himself boldly into the same 8 Fabyau's Chronicle, pp. 339, 340. . The whole is discussed at length with A.D. 1257. Fabyan relates this as if citations of authorities in Maitland's it were a deep and subtle conspiracy London, p. 89, et seqq. But it re- to take away the liberties of the lates more to the city than to the citizens; that Maxwell forged the cathedral, roll, and that the object was to extort Stowe, tnib ann. money from the reluctant citizens. UGO FALCODI, LEGATE. 63 party. Whether by his orders, with his connivance, at CHAP, least with no opposition from the Bishop, the great bell of , '_ S. Paul's was the tocsin which summoned the citizens to arms. Yet when the Queen, who was left in the Tower, endeavoured to join the King, her husband, in the Castle at Windsor, as she would have passed the bridge, her barge was arrested, and her passage stopped by the populace. She was only rescued by the Bishop of London, who conveyed her respectfully and in safety to his episcopal palace. 1 Ugo Falcodi, the Papal Legate, who was on his way to England to settle these affairs with a high hand, and authoritatively to annul the Provisions of Oxford, was arrested at Boulogne, and forbidden to land in England. He launched his excommunication against the Cinque Ports and the city of London. But Ugo Falcodi was hastily summoned to assume the Papal tiara as Cle- ment IV. Ugo Falcodi forgot not the insult that, as Le- gate, he had received in England. The Pope himself sus- pended Henry de Sandwith. (A. D. 1265). The Bishop of London had during the war excommunicated the Prince and all his followers. 2 In the year following London and three other Bishops were solemnly excommuni- cated at Northampton. 3 The Pope ratified the Ban. ~No favour was to be shown to the Bishops of Worcester, London, Lincoln, and Ely ; they were on no account to be released from excommunication. 4 Sandwith was obliged to journey to Home to obtain absolution. He lingered, M Lingard, vol. iii. p. 135. Pauli, the bishops of London, Lincoln and Simon de Montfort. Winchester had appeared at Bologna. 2 Compare Latin Christianity, vol. They were iirged to abandon Simon de vi. p. 363. Montfort. They were not only ' teme- s Pearson, p. 262, Sept. 12, 1273 'rarie sed et notorie transgressores ' of the dates differ. the Papal precepts. 4 MS. B. M. on the 24th November 64 CARDINAL OTTOBTJONI. CHAP, or was detained there six years in exile. At length in ^- - he wrung forth his slow pardon from Pope Gregory V. In the pardon his crimes were duly recited. He had favoured the Barons with his counsel ; he had celebrated divine service in London;, when under suspension by Car- dinal Hadrian, and, in despite of the excommunication ; he had communicated with excommunicated persons. He had lately shown good conduct and devout penitence. Full pardon and absolution were granted by the Holy Father. Sandwith, returned to England in 1273, after the acces- sion of Edward I. He returned to die, not to preside, but to be buried in his Cathedral. 5 It was during the absence of Bishop Sandwith at Rome, after the battle of Evesham and the death of Simon de Montfort, at the close of the Barons' war, that the Cardi- nal Legate Ottobuoni appeared in the greatest pomp at S. Paul's, having summoned all the Prelates and dignitaries of the first and second orders throughout the realm. There, in the Cathedral of the metropolis, he promulgated and caused to be read, in the presence of a great multitude, the famous Constitutions. These Constitutions, enlarging and confirming those of Cardinal Otho, became the code of ecclesiastical law in England for several centuries down to the Reformation. The code was fully and distinctly pro- claimed in all its solemnity. The Legate is said to have heard with patience the objections and appeals of the assembled ecclesiastical Parliament, or Council. The Le- gate assumed, in the name of the Pope, full legislative powers, not only over England, but over Wales, Scotland, and Ireland. In another work I have given a summary ef these statutes, and will only add, that there were strong * MS. B. M. July, 1272, the Arch- of the, prebends and benefices during deacon of Colchesler and Godfrey, the suspension. Canon of S. Dunstan's, had the disposal BISHOP JOHN DE CHISHULL. (55 canons relating to religious bouses, and to monks, and CHAP, conventual bodies of all orders. 6 . ,,!_ JOHN DE CHISHULL, who became Bishop of London in 1273, had accumulated not a few ecclesiastical and civil offices. He had been Provost of Beverley, Archdeacon of London, Dean of S. Paul's, High Treasurer and Chancel- lor of the Exchequer. Bishop Chishull fell into ill health. No wonder, considering his various arduous functions ! The Primate, John Peckham, issued a commission to the Dean and Treasurer of S. Paul's, empowering them to present to prebends and other benefices, with or without cure of souls, and to perform other acts belonging to the episcopal function. Another commission, with the same powers, was issued to the Archdeacon of Colchester, no doubt for the part of the diocese in Essex. 7 On the death of Chishull 8 a singular transaction took place. The Canons elected Fulk Lovel archdeacon of Colchester, who on the same day refused the bishopric. Lovel alleged bodily weakness and scruples of conscience for his refusal; but some averred that Lovel held other benefices, as many as twenty, worth more than the bishopric ; others, that he might have been rejected by the Primate Peckham, for the sin of holding so many pluralities. Peckham rebuked Lovel for his modesty, or his interested motives, in declining the duty and dignity of a Bishop ; 9 but some said that Lovel had also been elected to Lincoln, then a richer bishopric than London, and had declined that also. 1 It is curious however, that, from the will, or rather the recital and valuation of the wealth of Chishull's actual 6 A.D. 1268. Latin Christianity, vol. ' February, 1280. vi. p. 381. Compare Wilkins, new 9 Peckham's letter is in the appen- Rymer. Wykes, &c. dix to Wharton, vol. v. 7 A.D. 1279. * Wharton, in viid. P 66 BISHOP RICHARD DE GRAVESEND. CHAP, successor we may form, not indeed till after the death of _ n t L . that prelate, some estimate, however loose and conjec- tural, of the revenues of the bishopric of London. But EICHARD DE GRAVESEND occupied the see for twent}^- three years, from 1280 to 1303 ; and in that time may have accumulated, without parsimony or avarice, a great treasure. Bishop de Gravesend had a dispute concerning juris- diction with the Primate. The Archbishop had proceeded against a Eector in the diocese of London in the Court of Arches, without notice to the Bishop of London. The Bishop protested against this as an invasion of his authority. But Peckham vindicated his metropolitan su- * premacy. Coadjutors, too, were at one time appointed by the Primate to act for the Bishop of London, possibly from some temporary illness, or on account of the absence of Gravesend as ambassador to France. 2 It was during the episcopate of Gravesend that the Dean of S. Paul's, William de Montfort, appeared in the distinguished office of representative of the Clergy to resist the demands of the King (Edward I.) of the moiety of their income for a subsidy. It was a melancholy dis- tinction ! Hardly had the voice of the Dean been heard, when he fell dead at the King's feet. A fit of apoplexy was no doubt the last cause assigned for this awful event. Of course it was a sign of God's displeasure, but against whom ? Against the King, as a warning, on account of his sacrilegious invasion of the property of the Church? or, as Edward and his Court might think, against the rebellious Clergy who resisted the ' powers that be '? ' Two years after, when the taxation of the clergy was more imperiously urged, Archbishop Winchelse} r , in a letter 2 This did not occur to Wharton, who mentions the two events as if in connection. BULL OF POPE BONIFACE VIII. 67 addressed to Richard, Bishop of London, commanded CHAP. him to summon a congregation of the whole Clergy at . T '_ S. Paul's. To the Bishop of London, too, the Primate addressed another letter, fiercely denunciatory of all the impious men who, in defiance of the decrees of the Lateran Council, should presume to invade the property 'of the Church, and of the Clergy who should submit to such sacrilegious taxation. He commanded the Bishop to publish in his Cathedral the Bull of the Pope (we are in the high days of Boniface VIII.), which excommunicated all emperors, kings, barons, who should dare to exact any payment of any kind on account of church property, and any ecclesiastic of any rank down to the lowest, who should make any payment whatever, under any pretext whatever. Having thus declared war against the King in the sermon, before the Pax Domini, there were to be special prayers for peace. How Edward I. dealt with his refractory Clergy I have related elsewhere ; and how the Dominican Friars appeared in St. Paul's to challenge all who would contest the Papal authority. 3 Two years later Bishop Richard 4 addressed the Dean and Chapter of S. Paul's, reciting the mandate of Robert, Archbishop of Canterbury, but with 9 remarkable ad- dition. The King had issued his orders, that, twice in the year, on the Feast of All Souls and on Palm Sunday, should be read in all cathedrals and parish churches, the Great Charter and the Forest Charter, with a penalty of the larger excommunication against all who should violate these statutes. The two Archbishops and other Bishops assembled at Westminster had agreed to that publication in the vulgar tongue. After this the mandate returns to o O 3 Latin Christianity, vol. vii. pp. 4 Kobertiis in "Wilkins, I presume, by 62, 63. mistake. Wilkins, vol. ii. pp. 240, 241. 68 LETTERS OF PRIMATE WINCHELSEY. CHAP, the Lateran Council, and the Bull of Pope Boniface, which _ IIL ,. excommunicated with bell, book, and candle all who should lay their impious hands on the property of the Church, or the persons of the Clergy. Bishop Richard declared that, health permitting, and no obstacle inter- vening, he himself, on the appointed days, would read the excommunication of the violators of the Charter and the invaders of Church property; that, on those occasions, the usual processions would take place in S. Paul's. The letter closes with a crowning ^communication, which he is resolved to promulgate against the Scots for violation of the peace on their borders. Subsequently Archbishop Winchelsey rebukes the Bishops for their remissness in collecting the tithes for the King, who was in Scotland, contributed, as they should be, l in a manner decent and * pleasing to Jesus Christ ! ! ' 5 There is a very angry letter from Robert (Winchelsey) Primate, complaining that the Archbishop of York had had the audacity to have his cross borne before him, and to give his benediction to the people in the diocese of Canterbury. The Bishop of London is enjoined to inhibit all in his diocese from doing honor to, or receiving bless- ings from, the usurping prelate. 6 Another remarkable event occurred later in the epis- copate of De Gravesend. There came an order from the Archbishop asking the sanction of the King to close all the synagogues of the Jews in London but one. The fatal hour of the expulsion of the Jews from England was drawing on. 7 Bishop Richard died December 9, 1363. In our archives is still preserved his will, as it is popularly called, or rather the accompt of his property attached to his will, as proved in the Archbishop's Court. It de- * Wilkins, vol. ii. p. 240. Ibid. p. 235. 7 Ibid. p. 243. WILL OF BISHOP GKAVESEND. 69 scribes the effects of all kinds, with the value of each CHAP. separate property furnished by his executors, for the ^ probafce of which it appears that 601. was paid to the Archbishop's Court. The roll measures twenty-eight feet in length, by about one foot in width. It is the full in- ventory of his plate, the goods of his chapel, his jewels, his robes, his bed-furniture, his carpets, his kitchen, his butlery, his horses, his coach, his arms (a single sword), his wine, his wardrobe (gar da roba), which contained his books. Besides this, the corn and stock on all and each of his manors and farms. The value of each article is attached. The value of the books was above 100Z. 8 The total value was nearly 3000Z. At that period, making allowance for the relative value of silver and the price of commodities, the sum may be multiplied by about fifteen, to bring it to its present value. 9 During the sixty years of the thirteenth century, reckoning from the death of Gravesend and the appoint- ment of his successor, 1304-1364, almost the end of Edward III.'s reign, seven bishops passed over the see of London, men, no doubt, of distinction, possibly of learning, in their day, most of them benefactors to the see and church of S. Paul, but hardly one has left his mark in history. The annals of S. Paul's are all that time mostly barren of great events. During the glorious part of Edward III.'s reign, 1 we hear of no splendid thanksgiving . 8 See Appendix. ' capons, Id. ; cocks and hens, Id. ' Speaking of this inventory Dug- On 'December 15, the Bishop's dale writes, ' It is not unworthy of note ' body was brought to London, with the ' that of this, his personal estate, his sil- ' weight of twelve hundred pounds and ' vervessels amounted to 214 13s. lid. 'a half of waxen tapers, which were ' the prices of corn and other things ' employed at the solemnization of his 1 being thus rated as follows : wheat, ' funeral, the day following, in the ' at 4s. ; malt, ground, 3s. 4ody, the monks and religious orders the venomous and pestiferous tail of Antichrist. At a somewhat later period appeared before a Convo- AJ) - cation at S. Paul's, Richard Walker, chaplain in the dio- cese of Worcester, charged with having in his possession two books of images with conjunction of figures, and of having himself practised these diabolical arts. Walkov pleaded guilty to both charges. On another day the said Walker appeared at Paul's Cross, and, after an exhortation from the Bishop of Llandaff, solemnly abjured all magic. The two books were hung, wide open, one on his head, one on his back ; and with a cap (a fool's cap ?) on his head, he walked all along Cheapside. On his return his books were burned before his face, and Walker was released from his imprisonment. 8 After this scene, for which all other business was suspended, Convocation proceeded to the less important affair of a subvention to the King. The great distinction of Bishop Clifford was, that he ap- A.D. 1416. 8 Wilkins, vol. iii. p. 394 et seqq. 90 BISHOP JOHN KEMP. CHAP, peared as the Representative of the English Church at the ^ ' great Council of Constance, A. D. 1416. Clifford could not aspire to the influence of the noble English prelate, Robert Hallam of Salisbury. Hallam died September 4, 1417. Clifford is said to have been the first to render homage to Pope Martin V., and may be supposed, therefore, to have had some share in the election of that determined and sagacious Pope, who brought Western Christendom again to the feet of the Roman Pontiff. 9 Clifford introduced the use of Sarum, instead of the old one of S. Paul's, into the services of the Cathedral, but not without resistance. Bishop Clifford died August 21, 1421, the year before the accession of Henry VI. 1 On the death of Clifford, the Canons, lawfully assembled by the royal license, chose for their Bishop, Thomas Polton, Bishop of Hereford. The new Pope, Martin V., who watched the ecclesiastical affairs of England with especial vigilance, as far too independent and refractory to papal jurisdiction, named, by his assumed right of provision, John Kemp, Bishop of Chester, to that dignity. The claim seems not to have been resisted. The appointment was in every way acceptable to the King's Counsellors. JOHN KEMP was inaugurated Bishop of London, Thomas of Hereford promoted to Chester. By this time the Bishop of London had become, almost by usage, one of the chief ministers of State : the Bishop was merged in the Chan- cellor, Treasurer, and some other high office. The year after his appointment, Kemp crossed the sea as one of the Council of the Regent, Duke of Bedford, now administering the conquests of Henry V. 2 In 1426, Kemp was Lord Chan- 9 Latin Christianity, vol. iii. p. 310. of certain convicted clerks from his 1 There is a letter of Bishop Clif- prison at Stortford. Ellis, Letters, ford's in which he thanks the King, Second Series, p. 90. Henry VI., for forgiving him the escape 2 Wharton, in vitd. BISHOP FITZ HUGH. 91 cellor, and held the chancellorship till 1432. He was CHAP. then advanced to York. The Canons of York were less r- - obsequious to the Pope than the Canons of S. Paul's. The Pope refused his Bull to Kemp as Archbishop. The Ca- nons, supported by the Royal authority, treated the Papal revocation with contempt. The Pope yielded, but with ill grace. In 1425, William Eussell, of the Franciscan order, was arraigned in S. Paul's, and forced to recant a new heresy, that personal tithes did not belong to the Clergy of right, but might be assigned by the will of the payers, to any general uses, and so to the Mendicant Friars a curious illustration of their struggle for ascendancy. 3 WILLIAM GRAY was appointed, on Kemp's translation, A.D. 1426. by Papal provision, Bishop of London. After four years Gray was translated (A.D. 1431) to Lincoln, then a richer see than London. ROBERT FITZ HUGH, bishop in succession to Gray, was of noble lineage. He was Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, As such chancellor, he delivered a speech in Convocation, much admired for its Latinity, and obtained a decree that some of the richer benefices in England should be assigned to literates in either University. Fitz Hugh had been the King's ambassador at Venice. As Bishop of London he was named the delegate of England to the Council of Basle. Soon after his return he was named as their Bishop by the monks of Ely. It was, it should seem, no descent from London to Ely, as it was not from London to Lincoln. He died, however, before his translation. 4 3 The long trial is in Wilkins, vol. bequeathed all his pontificals to S. iii. pp. 438, 439. Paul's, excepting a ring, given to him 4 Dodwell thought the will of Bi- by the Venetians, which he had already , shop Fitz Hugh, made at Dover, worthy affixed to the shrine of S. Erkenwald. of insertion among his documents. He He left, should he die at Paris, to 92 BISHOP GILBEET. CHAP. The obscure name of EGBERT GILBEET follows, obscure IV. r in our days, though renowned in his own. Gilbert was ap- pointed by the University of Oxford to examine the sus- pected writings of Wycliffe ; and by the Pope, Conservator of the liberties of the University against the encroach- ments of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Bishop Gilbert appears, unlike most of his predecessors, to have held none of the high offices of state. He was Bishop for twelve years, A. D. 1436-1448. Before the close of Gilbert's episcopate, after he had fallen into ill health and infirmity, appears at Paul's Cross one of the most famous men who ever ascended that pulpit ; a Bishop, in those days a rare example, before the end of his career arraigned for heresy. Of Reginald Pecock, the Bishop of S. Asaph, the opinions, character, and fate are yet in some degree a problem to the historian. 5 Reginald Pecock now stood forward at Paul's Cross, as the uncompromising antagonist of the Lollard or Wycliffite doctrines. He disdainfully rejected the vital principle of the Puritans of the fourteenth century, the all-sufficiency of Scripture, or rather the sole authority of Scripture, as the one revelation of God. He vindicates the bishops, then, as in later days, taunted as ' dumb dogs ' for their neglect of preaching. ' Bishops might teach more effectu- * ally otherwise than by preaching. Their place was rather ' in King's Councils than in the pulpit.' He vindicated the payment of annates and first-fruits. On the first of those great questions (more fully discussed in his ' Precursor,' published somewhat later), Pecock took the ground after- wards maintained by Hooker. Hallam has said, with his usual solid wisdom, that in the ' Precursor ' are passages each of his grooms the horse on * Compare throughout Lewis, Life which he rode ; to his squires, valet, jf Pecock, and the works of Pecock and inferior servants, sums of money. printed by the Rolls Commission, with Appendix V. the very able preface. EEGINALD PECOCK. 93 well worthy of Hooker for weight of matter and dignity CHAP. of style. ,_! It might have been supposed that Pecock's strongly Con- servative, if not High Church, arguments on the two lead- ing points the defence of the bishops and the payment of offerings would have been acceptable and satisfactory to the Bishops, and to those who aspired to be bishops. But altogether the sermon, delivered no doubt with much haughtiness, provoked a furious storm. The Universities lifted up their voices, popular writers declaimed against Pecock. One academician of high position and expecta- tion, Millington, Provost of King's College, Cambridge, declared at S. Paul's, that England would never endure those who permitted Pecock to prosper. Pecock replied in his ' Precursor,' perhaps the greatest work, certainly the greatest theological work, which had yet appeared in English prose. In the * Precursor ' Pecock is still the inflexible Conservative, the mortal enemy of Lollardism. He declares that he will justify the usages of the Church. He confines himself to six Images, pilgrimages, the holding of landed property by the Church, the different ranks of the hierarchy, the framing laws by episcopal and papal authority, the religious orders. So far, notwithstanding the unpopu- larity of some of his tenets, and his lofty and con- temptuous tone (he is said to have thrown aside, with a sarcastic sneer, and scoffed at the names of the four great Latin doctors S. Ambrose, S. Jerome, S. Augus- tine, S. Gregory), Pecock might seem playing a bold game for the highest places in the Church. He had been called to appear as a delinquent in the Court of Stafford, Archbishop of Canterbury ; but such opinions were not likely to be severely weighed by a court of Bishops. Pecock remained uncondemned. 94 PECOCK A HERETIC. Ten years after, Dec. 1, 1447 (it is well to pursue and to conclude this history), appeared again at Paul's Cross, Reginald Pecock, now Bishop of Chichester, in the pre- sence of twenty thousand people, an object of universal hatred alas ! of not unmerited contempt ! He appeared in his episcopal attire, knelt down at the feet of the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Bishops of London, Durham, and Rochester. He made a full and solemn abjuration of all his errors errors against Holy Church, against the Catholic and Apostolic faith. He consigned his voluminous works, folios and quartos, by his own hands (happily some copies escaped) to the fire kindled before him, the fire of which he confessed his terror, lest by the sentence of the Court, or the rage of the populace, he might be forced to enter it. What were the causes of this marvellous change in the acts and in the fate of Reginald Pecock? They are still to a certain extent obscure. There were no doubt political rea- sons (and politics were now running high) which conspired to make Pecock odious. He had entered life under the patronage of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester ; and though the popular appellation of the ' good ' Duke still clung to Humphrey, that was no longer a safeguard to his parti- sans rather the contrary. But Pecock had been taken up by the deadly foe, if not the murderer, of Humphrey, the detested Suffolk. His chief friends on the episcopal bench were Suffolk's partisans, the Bishop of Norwich and Adam de Molins, who had been cruelly murdered by Suffolk's enemies. Pecock had been promoted to the see of Chichester, so vacated by the death of Adam. He was promoted by the high Lancastrian faction, and the Yorkists were now in the ascendant. But to these causes for poli- tical were added deeper causes of religious hatred. To every dominant doctrine of the day, and to the supporters PECOCK'S CONFESSION. 95 of those doctrines, Pecoclr had given deadly, unforgiven CHAP. offence. He had followed out his own daring thoughts ,_!_ with relentless logic. He had now gone as far beyond Hooker as Hooker beyond the doctrines of his time. Hooker, with his sagacious judgment, had paused when he had refuted the narrow tenet, that the Scripture was the only revelation of God to man; and determined that there was a sphere in which the reason and moral sense of man must be heard, as a co-ordinate authority, to sup ply the silence of Scripture, and complete the revelation. Pecock as freely and nakedly as those who in our time are taunted as Rationalists, would submit not only the supre- macy of Scripture, but the authority of the Church, whether represented by the Pope or Council, or the Episcopate, to the same supremacy of the reason and moral sense of man. 6 His abjuration states that he had taught these heresies : 1, That it is not necessary to salvation to believe in the Holy Ghost, as dwelling in the Church, in the Pope, or in the Episcopate ; 2, That it is not necessary to believe in the Universal Church, the Communion of Saints ; 3, That the Holy Catholic Church could err in matters of faith. Such were the charges to which the Bishop of Chichester pleaded guilty at Paul's Cross. Whether he held them distinctly and clearly, whether his opponents understood them in the same sense in which Pecock uttered them, may be reasonably doubted. But, even if such be the case, to the High Church party, indeed to every party, Papalist or Episcopal, Pecock had given equal offence. He had given offence to what may be called the Anglican independent party, he had defended Provisors, he had at least impeached the justice of the Statute of Prseimmire. To the mass of believers he was accused of having spoken disparagingly of the Apostle's * Compare Lewis, p. 203. 96 CONDEMNATION OF PECOCK. CHAP. Creed. He denied that it -was written by the Apostles ; - ^ ' he had repudiated one Article Christ's descent into hell ; and in those days to deny one Article of the Creed was to deny the whole. Thus Lancastrian to the Yorkists, to all Churchmen a despiser of Church authority, to the Anti-Papalists an Ultramontane, to the rabble a heretic, or almost worse than a heretic, what was wanting to the abominations of Reginald Pecock ? He had the audacity to demand that he should be tried by his peers in intellect and learning. It would have been difficult to have found a jury, even a single judge, who fulfilled this qualification certainly not the Primate Stafford, no preacher, confessedly no theo- logian. Of the monks, the most active preachers, he had expressed unreserved contempt. He had called them ' pulpit brawlers.' But faith makes martyrs, fanaticism makes martyrs ; logic makes none. Pecock had followed out his own thoughts to their legitimate conclusion ; but . with his temper of mind conclusions are not convictions. The poor tailor, the humble artisan had confronted the stake and the fire, and laid down their lives for their faith. The great intellect of his age, the most powerful theologian in England, disgraced himself by miserable cowardice. He may have wished to propitiate his judges, and the assessors of his judges, the rude multitude, by his pitiful confession -r-' My pride and my presumption have brought me to ' this ; ' he may even so have satisfied, or blinded his own conscience. The abjuration of Pecock (in those days no slight credit to the Church) the public abjuration was accepted. He escaped the fire ; he was only degraded from his episcopate, and dragged out the rest of his life in peace- ful and undisturbed, if ignominious, seclusion. Paul's Cross in his case led not to Smithfield. PECOCK ON MAREIAGE. 97 Pecock was in favour of the marriage of the Clergy. 7 CHAP. He seems to have held a well-ordered family life the best ._ * J* and holiest state for the ecclesiastic, as for all other Chris- tians. Probably all agreed tacitly to suppress the charge of that heretical doctrine. The advocates of celibacy would not wish to publish the adverse opinions even of so no- torious a heretic. The married Clergy, where there was marriage, would be cautious in betraying themselves to the popular clamour by making common cause with so unpopular an advocate. Bishop Pecock had even, in anti- cipation of his own fate, taught, at least limited toleration. 1 The Clergy will be condemned at the last day, if by free 1 will they draw not men into consent of true faith other- 4 wise than by fire and sword and haiigement.' 8 Yet he will not deny the second means to be lawful, if the former be first used. 7 Lewis, p. 208. 8 Ibid. p. 122. 98 WARS OF THE ROSES. CHAPTER Y. S. PAUL'S, DURING THE WARS OP THE EOSES. CHAP. THE long episcopate of Thomas Kemp, nephew of John _ / _. Kemp, promoted to York, lasted for thirty-nine years (A.D. 1450-1489). It comprehended the whole period of the Wars of the Roses to the fourth year after the acces- sion of Henry VII. The turbulent commencement of Kemp's prelacy did not presage so lengthened, and, in its later part, such peaceable possession of the see. Kemp's accession to the bishopric had something of the violence and intrigue, more of the irregularity, of those darkening days. Bishop Gilbert, from age or infirmity, for the last two years of his life, gave hope of a speedy vacancy by re- signation or death. The dominant minister of the min- ister-governed King obtained from the Pope, Nicolas V., a Provision securing the succession in either case to Thomas Kemp. 1 But the Duke of Suffolk became all-powerful at Court ; the royal favour veered. Attempts were made at Rome to supersede the former Provision, and obtain a second with the nomination of the Bishop of Carlisle. The Pope refused to change with the vacillating politics of the Court. On the death of Gilbert, Kemp laid claim to the see. His claim was not admitted ; his consecration was delayed ; and his temporalities remained in the hands of the King. Kemp held the empty title. A petition was presented from the Lower House of Parliament to 1 "Wharton, in vitd. THOMAS KEMP, BISHOP OF LONDON. 99 exclude during their lives from the presence of the King, CHAP, and to forbid the approach nearer than twelve miles from ^_ . /._ the King's Court, of Edward Duke of Somerset, the Bishop of London, and others of evil fame. In the next year, however (1449-1450), Kemp was consecrated; his tempo- ralities restored. In the Wars of the Eoses the Clergy seem mostly to have stood aloof: episcopal banners floated not over the bloody fields of S. Albaii's, Wakefield, or Towton, The Archbishop of Canterbury, as the first subject in the realm, and usually Lord High Chancellor, was compelled to take part at least in all the public ceremonials. Neville of York was too closely connected with the King Maker to- remain at peace ; but though John Kemp may have main- tained his impartial and serener dignity, S. Paul's was summoned to witness, and, as it were, to ratify and hallow, all the changes of those terrible times. What solemn perjuries were uttered ; what pompous but hollow thanks- givings resounded within its walls, as each faction tri- umphed, and appealed to God for the justice of its cause: success the sole test of its justice ! Already, many years before, the lowering prognostics of these scenes, the first clouds of those fearful family feuds might be seen hovering about, in the church or in its neighbourhood. At the doors of the Cathedral, Eoger Bolingbroke the Necromancer, accused of inciting, abet- ting, and aiding, by his diabolic magic, the ambitious designs of Humphrey Duke of Gloucester, was exhibited on a platform in front of S. Paul's. With Bolingbroke, Southwell, a Canon of S. Paul's, was deeply implicated in these wicked dealings. The penance of Eleanor Duchess of Gloucester no doubt commenced or closed near the Cathedral, when she was led along, wrapped in a sheet, with a burning taper in her hand : H2 100 KING HENEY IN S. PAUL'S. Mailed up in shame, with papers on my back, And followed with a rabble, that rejoice To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans. Shakspeare, and the chronicles which he followed, say nothing of S. Paul's. Yet it can hardly be supposed but that some part of poor Eleanor's penance (witchcraft was a religious offence) would be performed either within the walls, or in the precincts of the church. The strange fiction, which translated her husband's (Duke Humphrey of Gloucester's) tomb from S. Alban's to S. Paul's, adds some interest to this event. The poet Lydgate describes King Henry's first peaceful Visit to S. Paul's. He set forth from the Tower : Long in his mind to be conceived, With how good will that day he was received ; Coming to Powles, then he light adown, And there to meet him with procession Was the Archbishop and the Chancellor, Lincoln and Bath, of whole hearts and entire, Salisbury, Norwich, and Ely, In ' pontificalibus ' arrayed richly ; There was the Bishop of Rochester also ; The Dean of Powles, and Canons every one. As of duty they ought to do On procession with the King to go. With observances belonging for a King Solemnly began to convey him indeed, Up into the church with full devout singing, And when he had made his offering, The Mayor, the citizens turned and left him. 2 But we descend to darker times, to more certain re- cords. In March, 1452 (two years after Kemp's acces- sion), Eichard Duke of York, in S. Paul's, took his oath of * Henry VI. Part n. Act n. Scene Quoted in Malcolm at much greater 4. Fabyan, p. 614. Stowe, p. 388. length, vol. iii. p. 156. YORK'S OATH OF FIDELITY. 101 fealty to King Henry on the Sacrament, before a numerous CHAP. assemblage of peers and others. Kemp could hardly not . be on his throne. The oath which York swore is extant, and seems studiously, skilfully drawn up to involve him in the deepest perjury. No particular is omitted; no pledge, no word, which did not, as it were, anticipate its flagrant violation, its contemptuous trampling under foot of the whole, ere many years had passed away : ' I, ' Eichard Duke of York, confess and beknow that I am, * and ought to be, humble subject and liegeman to you, ' my Sovereign Lord, King Henry VI. I ought, therefore, 4 to bear you faith and truth to my Sovereign Liege Lord ; * and shall do all days unto my life's end. ... I shall not ' take anything upon me against your royal estate or ' obeysance, that is due thereto ; nor suffer any other man 4 to do as far forth as it shall be in my power to let it. ' . . . I shall never hereafter take upon me to gather any * rowt, or to make any assembly of your people without 6 your commandement or licence, even in my lawful de- ( fence. I shall report me at all times to your Highness. ' And over, I agree me and will, if I any time hereafter, ' as by the grace of our Lord God I never shall, anything ' attempte by way of feate or otherwise against your royal * Majesty, and the obeisance that I owe thereto, or any- ' thing take upon me otherwise than as above expressed, * I from that time forth be unabled, held, and taken as ' an untrue and openly foresworn man, and unable to all ' manner of worship, estate, and degree, be it such as I * now occupy, or any other that might in any wise grow 4 unto me hereafter.' And on this oath, in the great church of London, in the presence of the ministering Archbishop, the Duke of York appeals to the Host, the Body of Christ, before him. 3 * Stowe's London, p. 395. 102 KECONCILTATION IN S. PAUL'S. CHAP ^ ? vears have hardly passed. In March, 1458, the v - bloody battle of S. Alban's had been fought. Parliaments and Councils had been held, negotiations endlessly carried on between the contending parties ; the poor King had sunk for a time into mental imbecility. He had now re- covered the command of his poor unkingly intellect. 4 After all this, in token of reconciliation, there was a solemn pro- cession to S. Paul's. There was some dread of a colli- sion between the hostile and ill-accordant factions. King Henry and Queen Margaret slept at the Bishop's Palace in the precincts. The great Lords assembled in the chapel of that palace. The King, holding his full Court, sur- rounded by Yorkists and Lancastrians, sate on a throne. The Archbishop Bourchier set the crown on his head. The procession to the Church, preceded by the Archbishop, his cross borne before him by the Bishop of Rochester, was met by the Dean and Chapter (was Kemp present among the Lords?). Two and two came those terrible Nobles, so soon to meet again in deadly battle the Duke of Somerset and the Earl of Salisbury, the Duke of Exeter and the Earl of Warwick. Then came the poor King, crowned, with the sceptre in his hand. The Queen fol- lowed smiling (oh! the bitterness of that smile), and ' con- ' versing familiarly ' with the Duke of York. They knelt in prayer one at least, the King, on his faldstool in devout, earnest, Christian prayer. The Nobles were on their knees behind. High Mass was sung; the Arch- bishop pronounced the benediction { Go in peace ! ' that benediction to have but brief, but very slight effect ! The people no doubt rejoiced at heart, and listened to the service with fond hopes of happier and more peaceful times. A ballad of the time describes this meeting : 4 All this is well and clearly told, among many historians, by Lingard. Henry VI. CONCOED AND UNITY. 103 That England may rejoice, concord and unity ! CHAP. Now is sorrow with shame fled into France, ^ ' As a felon that hath forsaken this land : March, Love hath put out malicious governance ; In every place, both free and bond : In York, in Somerset (as I understond), In Warwick, also, is love and charity ; In Salisbury eke, and in Northumberland, That every man may rejoice, ' concord and unity! ' Egremont and Clifford, with other associates, Being set in the same opinion. In every quarter love is thus laid : Grace and wisdom hath thus the domination. Awake, wealth ! and walk in this region, Round about in town and city, And thank them that brought it to this condition ! Rejoice, England ! in concord and unity. At Paul's in London, with great renown, On Lady day, in Lent, this peace was wrought ; The King, the Queen, with Lords many an one, To worship that Virgin as they ought, Went in procession and spared right nought, In sight of all the commonalty, In token that love was in heart and thought, Rejoice, England ! in concord and unity. There was between them lively countenance, Which was great joy to all that there were, That long time has been at variance ; As friends for ever (that had been in fear) They went together, and made good cheer. France and Britain (Bretagne) repent shall they, For the bargain shall they pay full dear. Rejoice, England ! in concord and unity. Our Sovereign Lord King, God keep alway, The Queen and the Archbishop of Canterbury, And the Bishop of Winchester, Chancellor of England, And other that have laboured for this good day. God preserve them, we pray heartily, And London for this full diligently, 104 SECOND MEETING IN S. PAUL'S. Kept the peace in travail and adversity : To .bring in rest they laboured full truly ; Rejoice, England ! in concord and unity. Of three things I promise this worshipful city : The first the true faith that they have to the King ; The second, of love to the commonalty ; The third, good rule for evermore thee bring, The which God maintain, ever more during, And save the Mayor and all the worthy city. And that is amiss God bring to amending, That England may rejoice in concord and unity. 5 Three years are gone three melancholy years. The same Archbishop is again at the West door of S. Paul's, in full pontificals. He is received as before by the Dean and Chapter. The Archbishop is there to receive the King, coming in full procession from Westminster, as it were Black- for a solemn thanksgiving. But now Blackheath and Sept. 23, Northampton had been fought. The Duke of York had Northamp- asserted his right at least to the succession to the throne. ton, July rphe Parliament at Westminster had acknowledged that right. King Henry appeared, still with the crown on his head ; but not now with the Queen and half the nobility, Somerset and Exeter, on his side. Somerset had hardly es- caped after the defeat at Northampton. Exeter was, for the present, safe in his native county. The Queen, a fugitive in the North, was busily employed in rallying the depressed Lancastrians. The King was only now accompanied by Salisbury and Warwick, all no doubt with the White Kose gleaming on their helms or breastplates. York, Salisbury, and Warwick again knelt before the Primate. Bourchier called upon* them again to take the oath of allegiance, the oath of fidelity, to the King : the oath of allegiance to their prisoner ; or to ratify by their homage to the King 4 Quoted by Malcolm, vol. iii. p. 151, from a MS. in the Cotton Collection. Vespasian, B. 16. EDWARD IV. AT S. PAUL'S. 105 in the Cathedral the oaths already sworn before the Par- liament at Westminster. The Duke of York and his two sons, the Earl of March (hereafter Edward IV.), and young Rutland (Richard does not seem to have been there to begin his perjuries, nor fickle Clarence), swore to main- tain the King upon his throne, and not to molest him during his reign. Thus at S. Paul's was the seal put to the agreement at Westminster. But the succession by the same agreement was to pass away. The Sovereign to whom they swore allegiance had been forced to assent to the decree, which, disinheriting his own son, the princely Edward, awarded the succession to the Duke of York. After this humiliating scene, and after evensong, the King withdrew to the Bishop's Palace. Queen Margaret was not there. Ere long she was to efface the memory of this humiliation, and wreak her bloody vengeance. She was to appear at Wakefield, with Wak Afield, Somerset and Exeter and the northern Lords Northum- berland, Dacre, Clifford at the head of her army. Young Rutland was to wash out the memory of the oath in his innocent blood. The Duke's head was to wear a paper crown on the walls of York. What thought the Archbishop, what thought Bishop Kemp, when they could not but look back on the scene at S. Paul's, of the inscrutable decrees of Providence ? Arose within them no misgivings as to the value of those august religious ceremonies, which at least had no power of en- forcing oaths such solemn and reiterated appeals to God by those who, by their ferocious and treacherous acts, were setting God at defiance, and trampling on all laws of Christian faith, truth, and charity ? And yet again the gates of S. Paul's are open ; again A.D. 1461. the Archbishop is there, with the cross of Canterbury before him. It is to receive King Edward IV., with Salis- 106 KING HENEY EXPOSED IN S. PAULS. CHAP. V. Feb. 2, 1461. Towton, March 29, 1461. A.D. 1471. June 20, 1471 bury and Warwick, to render homage to the victorious Yorkist, who had won the crown at the second battle of S. Alban's, and was now acknowledged by the whole realm as the rightful monarch. Towton had confirmed the most peaceful barons in their fidelity to the new King. Tewkesbury and the murder of young Edward followed ten years later, and again in that same year S. Paul's opened her gates, again to receive Salisbury and Warwick the dead bodies of Salisbury and Warwick with that of their brother Montagu. For three days the bodies of those nobles were exposed barefaced, whether to the pity or the scorn of the populace ; or to assure them, and render the assurance doubly sure, that the function of Warwick, the terrible King Maker, had ceased for ever. A week after, within those obsequious portals, there was a spectacle more worthy of commiseration, the body of King Henry himself was displayed in the Cathedral. How he came by his end by grief, as the Yorkists de- clared ; or by fouler means, as the Lancastrians murmured as loud as they dared to murmur remains among the dark secrets of the Tower of London. It was not for the Clergy of S. Paul's to hold an inquest. But it was com- monly reported that, both at S. Paul's and at Blackfriars, blood gushed from the King's nose according to popular belief a sure sign that he had come to -a violent end ; his blood was a tacit arraignment of the murderer ; that the murderer was Richard of Gloucester no one doubted in his heart. The body was afterwards moved 'toward ' Chertsey ; ' and finally ' the meek usurper's holy head ' found repose at Windsor. S. Paul's had not seen the last of this awful conflict. When, after the death of Edward IV., before the murder of the children in the Tower, the Duke of Gloucester came up to London to arrest the family of the Queen, the Greys, DR. SHAW'S SERMOX. 107 and Lord Hastings, he paid his orisons (Eichard's orisons HAP. at such a time !) in S. Paul's. The seals were taken from * ^ the Archbishop of York and entrusted to the Bishop of London. Kemp, if he had the will, would hardly have had the courage to decline them. In his dark designs upon the Crown, Eichard of Gloucester used his utmost exertions to win over the citi- zens of London. This probably was the secret of his prayers in the Cathedral. At Paul's Cross, Dr. Shaw preached his famous or infamous sermon. 6 In that sermon he showered imputations of illegitimacy against all who stood in the way of Eichard. The preacher more than insinuated, he indeed openly asserted, the bastardy of all the elder brothers of the House of York, Edward and Clarence. ' Bastard slips never take deep root.' Edward and Clarence were born of adultery. The Duchess of York, by his showing, suddenly became virtuous to conceive the Duke of Gloucester. Edward's two sons were certainly bastards, on account of the precontract of Edward, before his marriage with the Lady Grey. We trust that Kemp of London was not one of the Bishops who stood on either side of Eichard when, before the simple Lord Mayor, he played his scarcely solemn farce of deep devotion, and reluctance to assume the Crown. 7 According to Shakespeare and his chroniclers, the charges against Hastings were publicly read in S. Paul's. The indictment of the good Lord Hastings, Which in a set hand fairly is engrossed, That it may be to-day read over in Ponies. 8 The hapless woman, Jane Shore, accused as a witch May, 1483. and an accomplice of Hastings, did penance in S. Paul's. 8 Dr. Shaw was the brother of the lowing Hall the Chronicler, has ' two Lord Mayor. ' Bishops.' 7 Shakespeare says, ' Two reverend 8 Henry VI. Act in. Scene 6. ' clergymen.' The stage direction, fol- 108 BISHOP KEMP. CHAP. Whether she moved commiseration or aversion (as bring- v. . r - ing disgrace on citizens' wives) with the wondering citi- zens, is doubtful. Her extraordinary beauty, as she walked in very scanty attire with a cross before her, and a paper in her hand, ' the gaze of the people flushing her * pale cheeks with exquisite colour ; men were more ' amorous of her body than curious of her soul ; they * thought less of her shame than of the cruelty of the ' Protector.' King Richard himself, on his accession and his ac- knowledgment by the Spiritual and Temporal Peers, rode solemnly to the f cathedral church of London, and was ' received there with processions, with great congratulation ' and acclamation of all the people in every place, and by ' the way that the King was in, that day.' 9 In the general rising against Richard, the Bishops of Exeter and Salisbury took a leading part. It may be hoped that Kemp of London was at least in heart with his brethren. Throughout all these terrible and disastrous times the civil wars, the reigns of Henry VI., Edward IV., Edward V., Richard, down to the fourth year of Henry VII. Thomas Kemp was still Bishop of London. How far he sanc- tioned by his presence, or by his tacit connivance, those oaths taken in his church only to be broken, the hollow attempts at reconciliation, the acceptance of the strongest as the lawful king, the exposure in his Church of the bodies slain in battle, by public execution or by murder ; how far he retired behind the more authoritative primate, I find no distinct record.- We hardly know whether he was Yorkist or Lancastrian, or whether he lived aloof at his quiet palace of Fulham, mourning in Christian sorrow over crimes and miseries which he had no power to 9 The official account, in Ellis's Historical Letters, 2nd series, vol. i. p. 148. KEMP'S MAGNIFICENCE. 109 prevent ; or, in prudent regard for his own safety and CHAP. dignity, declined to commit himself openly to either ^ cause. That he had given no unpardonable offence to the House of York appears from a singular document. The Pope had made a demand of more than 40,000 ducats, alleged to be due from the Bishop, no doubt as treasurer of the Papal revenues from England, although agents from the Pope himself acknowledged that nothing was due. This was during the pontificate of Pius II. King Ed- ward IY. interfered with the new Pope, Paul II., to stop proceedings so unjust and vexatious against the Bishop. 1 But the civil wars, it should seem, did not interfere with the revenues of the bishopric, which accumulated during Kemp's episcopate to a vast amount ; and Thomas Kemp was a magnificent and munificent prelate, who knew how to spend those treasures. S. Paul's Cross, which he rebuilt, was for a long time, from its imposing grandeur and consummate gracefulness, one of the chief ornaments of the city of London. It became its position, and during two centuries was the pulpit from which the preachers of each successive generation addressed not only the citizens of London but the chief dignitaries of the State and of the Court. Kings sometimes sate at its foot. It was destroyed at length by Puritan fanaticism, which would not endure its form. Of the other buildings of Kemp at S. Paul's more hereafter. But his generosity did not confine itself to his own cathedral. The beautiful Divinity School at Oxford was built at his cost ; and we must give him credit, not merely for his munificence, but, to a certain extent, for the exquisite grace of the archi- tecture of that admirable edifice. 2 1 Wharton, p. 168. * Feb. 15, 1486. Kemp died March 28, 1489. 110 LAMBEET SIMNEL AT S. PAUL'S. CHAPTEE VI. s. PAUL'S, ON THE APPROACH OF THE REFORMATION. THERE are few noteworthy incidents relating to S. Paul's during the reign of Henry VII. The King was busily employed on his splendid chapel at Westminster. But before the close of Kemp's long episcopate, 1 the Bishop of London (perhaps from age or infirmity, was not present), the Primate Morton, with his suffragans, held a Convo- cation at S. Paul's. There appeared William Symonds, Priest, who confessed before the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, that at Oxford he had set up the son of one Originates as Earl of Warwick, and had conveyed him to Ireland. Symonds made full confession ; and, at the demand of the Archbishop, he was committed by the Mayor and Alder- men to the Tower. King Henry, after his victory over the partisans of Simnel, went on two successive days in solemn procession to the Cathedral. On the first day Te Deum was sung ; on the second, there was a sermon at Paul's Cross. The King rode with Lambert Simnel at his side, whose life he spared in contemptuous mercy, and degraded him to a servile office as a scullion in the royal kitchen. The impostor was exhibited in the King's train in S. Paul's ; and, according to all accounts, con- demned as no Earl of Warwick. 2 Archbishop Morton's Convocation proceeded to other 1 Lord Venilam in Kennet, p. 588. his procession. Verulam does not notice Simnel in 2 Maitland's London, vol. i. p. 217. OBSCUEE PEELATES. Ill business. There was a charge against the Prior of S. CHAP. John of Jerusalem, that certain of his Order had abused ^_ , '_ their privileges, and preached at Paul's Cross against the church and churchmen in the presence of laymen, who are ' always hostile to the Clergy. 3 On a further day the Prior of S. John's appeared, and promised to amend these errors. On a third day, after a subsidy had been voted, appeared many learned persons, secular as well as reli- gious, accustomed to preach at Paul's Cross ' the Word of ' God.' They were admonished by the Primate not to preach against ecclesiastical persons. But the next md- nition rather justified these bold and learned preachers. It was a rebuke to the Clergy, especially Priests in the city of London, against the evil fame of haunting taverns, hostelries, nd cookshops. All this was ominous of the coming Reformation. 4 After the long episcopate of Thomas Kemp followed a rapid line of prelates, mostly undistinguished, and who passed over the throne of London to higher places. Eichard Hill, 1489-1496; Thomas Savage, 1498; trans- lated to York 1501. William Warham only alighted on London on his way to Canterbury. He was appointed to London by Papal provision, October 1501; consecrated not before 1502 ; Archbishop of Canterbury, 1503. William Barons, or Barnes, was bishop hardly more than ten months, 1504, 1505. Eichard Fitz James, translated from Chichester, 1506-1522. Cuthbert TonstaU held the epis- copate of London rather more than seven years ; and this kind, gentle, and blameless prelate, as the threatening clouds of the Reformation began to lower, withdrew, as if in terror of these, to him, uncongenial times, to remote and safer Durham (A.D. 1530). 1 ' Qui semper Clericis sunt infesti.' this Convocation in Wilkins, vol. iii. See the whole curious report of p. 618. 112 JOHN COLET, DEAN OF S. PAUL'S. But if the Bishops of London were mostly men obscure to us, though perhaps of fame in their own days for learning and piety, there appears at this juncture, as Dean of S. Paul's, one of the most remarkable and admirable men who have held dignity in the Church of England, assuredly in the church of S. Paul's. John Colet is by some only vaguely known as the inti- mate and bosom friend of Erasmus, yet to have been the intimate friend of Erasmus implies a knowledge and love of letters, a high amount of learning, views of religion of a purer character, a prophetic presentiment of the great change preparing in Christendom, with a wise prevision of the best means of making that change, with as little convulsion as might be, by a slower perhaps, but less violent disruption. Whether the more peacenil revolution was possible may be doubted ; but to have foreseen its inevitable necessity, and to have attempted to mitigate the terrible shock, was the part of a wise churchman, of an exemplary Christian. These two great reformers before the Reformation Colet and Erasmus were in some respects closely kindred, in intellect and in opinion j in others, and in the circum- stances of their lives, they offer the strongest contrast. They were kindred in their revolt from that medievalism which, if for a time a splendid and beneficent, though rigidly restrictive, caparison of the human mind, had be- come an intolerable burden; kindred in their contempt for that grovelling superstition which, especially under the countless degenerate, ignorant, obstinately, arrogantly ignorant Monks and Friars, had suffocated the higher truths of religion ; kindred in their aversion from the scholastic theology which had made that science a metaphysical jargon, and from the scholastic logic which had reduced the human reason into a machine for spinning out, with ERASMUS. 113 wasteful ingenuity and infinite barren toil, intricate, CHAP. VT meaningless, valueless puzzles ; kindred in their reverence ~_ , ' _ for the Sacred Scriptures, which they were eager to un- fold to the mind of man with a purer light, and a more clear and true interpretation; casting aside all mystical and allegorical fancies, and offering the books, especially of the New Testament, in their plain and simple sense : kindred in their confidence in the inextinguishable free T dom of human thought, long oppressed and fettered by presumptuous, ignorant, tyrannical authority ; kindred in their trust in the influence of education in expanding and assuring the knowledge of the truth. But how different were they in the circumstances of their lives ! and yet, from the contrast in those circumstances arose, in a great degree, the world-wide and enduring influence of Erasmus, the narrower and more retired, but still important and lasting work of Colet. Erasmus, it may be almost said, without parents, without a country, without a native language, was thrust, when a boy, into a monastery, of at once the strictest and least religious dis- cipline ; then cast upon the world a friendless adventurer, with no resource whatever but his own indomitable love of learning and knowledge ; entirely dependent on the friends whom he might make for himself, or some more or less enlightened patron ; and later on the booksellers, for whom he worked, a willing slave work almost incredible for its amount, variety, accuracy, utility. John Colet, on the other hand, was the son of a wealthy London merchant, who had been at least twice Lord Mayor in those days a very high distinction the sole survivor of twenty-two children, the premature death of all of whom, while it centred the whole riches of his father on himself, gave, as it naturally would, a profoundly serious and religious cast to his mind. Colet early deter- I 114 COLET ON HIS TEAVELS. CHAP, mined to devote himself, but not in a monastic spirit, to VI ,' _* the service of Christ's religion, casting aside the golden A.D. 1493. visions, which might well float before his mind, of vast wealth, of high and distinguished eminence in the state, and in the royal favour. He was sent young, doubtless with ample means, to Oxford. He was then two or three years on his travels in Prance and Italy. During his travels he pursued his studies. Already in Oxford he seems to have been well read in Cicero, Plato, Plotinus. Abroad, in the full tide of the classical revival, he gave himself up entirely to the study of the Holy Scriptures and of the early Fathers, yet with unusual originality he broke loose from the exclusive reverence for Augus- tine which prevailed in Latin Christendom, and was deep in Origen and Jerome. Scotus and even Aquinas he almost dared to despise. A late writer 5 thinks it possible that in Florence Colet may have fallen under the spell of Savonarola in his best days, when the Italian was yet only the appalling preacher against the sins the sins of the highest and the lowest the apostle of pure Christian faith and love before he became the wild prophet and the religious demagogue. There is no proof, however, that Colet was at Florence ; and, notwithstanding some curious coincidences, the theology of Savonarola and of Colet stood as far asunder as those of a monk an im- passioned monk, an Italian visionary monk, a fervent mediaeval Catholic from that of a calm, sober, reasoning, reforming divine, who centred his whole soul on the plain and simple verities of the Gospel. If they both believed in grace and love as the primary, the ultimate elements of Christianity, grace and love wrought according to the conceptions of each in a very different manner. * Mr. Frederick Siebold, in his very valuable work, the ' Oxford Keformers ' of 1498,' p. 7. COLET AT OXFORD. 115 Colet returned to Oxford to pursue his studies with CHAP. maturer mind. He must have been towards thirty years ^ old, but as yet only in subdeacon's orders. Yet he held a living in Suffolk, and prebends in Salisbury, York, and S. Martin's-le-Grand. The duties of these benefices, as far as we know, lay as lightly on him as on others; in those days such things touched not the most tender conscience. He began his career, to the astonishment of the University, with public and gratuitous lectures ..on the writings of S. Paul ; he had yet no master's degree. These lectures startled the stagnant thought of the University. They were no less strikingly, to some, no doubt, alarmingly, new. The lecturer had no logical subtleties, no playing on the various senses in which the text, slavishly adhered to, might be interpreted. He sought only the plain sense of the Apostle's writings, and his consecutive argu- ment so far as it was consecutive, for Colet had already observed the abrupt and boldly transitional Pauline style. It was the religion of S. Paul expanded in all its grave and solemn simplicity. But the more the veil is withdrawn from the mind and character of Colet, the more does he stand out as beyond his age. Besides these lectures on S. Paul, certain lectures on the Book of Genesis have been unearthed among the treasures of the Cambridge Library. If on S. Paul, Colet rigidly adhered, not to the letter (he was far beyond the notion of plenary verbal inspiration) but to the sense of the Apostle, we find him in a far more free spirit treating the first chapter of Genesis as a noble poem, designed by its author Moses, to impress upon a rude and barbarous people the great truths of the creation of the world by one Omnific God. The description of the successive acts of creation is followed out with sin- gular ingenuity ; and these and the periods of time, have in his view a profound religious scope, but in themselves are I 2 116 COLET ON GENESIS. CHAP, only pious fictions to commend the great internal truths. ,-1 - I have space for only two passages : ' The day and night ' were but ingenious figments, not real divisions of time; ( the resting on the Sabbath-day was partly and chiefly ' that he might lead the people on to the imitation of God, ' whom, after the manner of a poet, he had mentioned as ' working on six days, and resting the seventh, so that they ' also might devote every seventh day to rest, and to the ' contemplation of God and of his worship.' According to the theory of Colet (strange that the Dean of S. Paul's in the nineteenth century should find the views, which he has long held, so nearly anticipated by the Dean of the sixteenth), 'Moses, after the manner of a good and pious ' poet, as Origen against Celsus calls him, was willing to ' invent some figures, not altogether worthy of God, if ' only it might be profitable and useful to man ; which race ' of men is so dear to God, that God himself emptied him- 1 self of his glory, taking the form of a servant, that he ' might accommodate himself to the poor heart of man. So ' all things of God, when given to men, must needs lose ' something of their sublimity, and be put in a form more ' palpable and more within the grasp of man. Accord- ( ingly, the high knowledge of Moses about God and ' divine things, and the creation of the world, when it came 1 to be submitted to the vulgar apprehension, savoured ' altogether of the humble and the rustic, so that he had to * speak, not according to his own comprehension, but ac- * cording to the comprehension of the multitude. Thus ac- f comrnodating himself to their comprehension, Moses en- ' deavoured by this most honest and poetic figure, at once * to feed them and lead them on to the worship of God.' 6 It is curious also to see the progress of the critical * For the whole account of these (Mr. Siebold is indebted to Mr. Brad- lectures, I am indebted to Mr. Siebold. shaw, of King's College, o whom I COLET AND ERASMUS. 117 faculty in Colet. He was at one time greatly enamoured CHAP. of the pseudo-Dionysiac writings, 7 of their lofty piety and ' imaginative splendour, but ere long discovered and pro- claimed their spuriousness. 8 It was in Oxford that the lifelong friendship of Colet and Erasmus began. Erasmus was now admitted into that choice society which had gathered in the University around Colet, Charnock, head of the college of S. Mary the Virgin, Grocyn, who first taught Greek at Oxford, Linacre, and last, but not least, the young Thomas More, the future famous Chancellor. But Colet was now the teacher, Erasmus the scholar. Colet had to wean Erasmus from his lingering respect for the Scholastic logic, and his reverence for the greatest of the Schoolmen, Aquinas. In 1503, nine years had passed in Oxford, Colet was summoned to the high dignity of Dean of S. Paul's. His father's exalted position in the city, and Colet's occasional presence there, for he held the great suburban living of Stepney, the parish in which his father usually resided (he resigned this when Dean of S. Paul's), may have directed attention to his peculiar qualifications for this office. He now took the degree of Doctor in Divinity. already owe obligation.) Mr. Sie- tian mythology, and of the Christian hold's pages (from 25 to 35) are of mysticism which has risen again and the greatest interest. This early again in almost every Christian theory of accommodation (the word, Church, it cannot surprise us that the of course, is the translator's) is ex- young mind of Colet was enthralled tremely curious. hy their power. It is more surpris- 7 I venture to refer to 'Latin Chris- ing that the first touch of the critical tianity ' for the fullest account of wand which he learned to wield from these writings in my knowledge, vol. Erasmus, perhaps from Grocyn, en- ix. pp. 57-64. tirely and at once dissolved the spell. 8 The Rev. J. H. Lupton, of S. Paul's After all, the real value of the ' Treatise School, has rendered valuable service ' on the Sacraments ' is in showing what in printing the 'Treatise on the Sacra- Colet escaped how entirely he broke ments,' by Colet. Considering the effect loose from the high sacerdotalism and of the books attributed to the Areopa- imaginative half-mystic theology, as gite, and devoutly believed in for cen- remote from the simplicity of the Gos- turies ; that they were the undoubted pel as the most subtle medieval scho- parents of much of the universal Chris- lasticism. 118 COLET, DEAN OF S. PAUL'S. CHAP. As Dean of S. Paul's Colet stood forth among the ^ ' churchmen of his day, with almost all the virtues, few, if any, of the common infirmities of his order : unimpeach- able blamelessness of life, generous hospitality, not indis- criminate though profuse, but delighting in a narrow circle, intellectual as well as religious, in which, according to the fashion of the day, theological readings mingled with the cheerful banquet. Those without this pale of course taunted him as niggardly and covetous, prodigal as he was of the emoluments of his office. This revenue was before long to be augmented by the great wealth of his father, which he entirely devoted to objects of public ad- vantage and to charity. Colet rapidly worked a complete change, not in the ceremonial or ordinary services of the Cathedral, but as introducing a new system of religious instruction. For the first time the pulpit of the Cathedral, or that of Paul's Cross, freely opened the Sacred Scriptures to the people. Colet himself preached regularly on every Sunday and holiday, and obtained the aid of the most learned and eloquent preachers of the day, like himself devoted to the study of the sacred writings and their practical application. He adhered to his famous axiom, * Keep to the Bible and the Apostles' Creed, and let 1 divines, if they like, dispute about the rest.' He founded a kind of catechetical lecture for the young, in English, which the Chronicler Grafton seems to notice as some- thing altogether new. As a preacher Colet had the one great indisputable qualification he was thoroughly in earnest. He was so possessed with the truth of his mission, that the whole man might seem to preach. It is undoubted that he was listened to by all ranks and orders with unexhausted interest. Thomas More considered the day when he did not hear Colet preach as a void in his life. COLET AS A PBEACHER. 119 On one great occasion Colet's eloquence and intre- CHAP. VI pidity were put to the severest test. A Convocation was , summoned at S. Paul's ; the Dean was ordered by the Primate to preach the sermon to the Clergy. He at- tempted to decline the office, perilous to & man like Colet : he was compelled to undertake it, and his dauntless courage shrunk not from the faithful discharge of his duty. No doubt there was more than the ordinary at- tendance of the Bishops and dignitaries of the Church. The Bishop of London, Fitz James, though jealously pre- scient of what was coming, could hardly, on such an oc- casion, not be on his throne in his own cathedral. The sermon, delivered with firm modesty, was a calm, powerful, deliberate arraignment of the vices of the Clergy, and an earnest exhortation to amendment. It was ' on confor- ' mity to this world and reformation in the newness of ' mind.' The four deadly unchristian sins denounced by the Apostle were the pride of life, the lust of the flesh, worldly occupation (and the preacher dwelt especially on preferment hunting), and extortionate avarice. Though couched in general terms, every sentence struck to the souls of many of his hearers. How many among them had obtained their preferment by unworthy means I How many led their lives, spent their vast incomes, kept their hearts so as to feel no deep, no angry compunction \ How many hated themselves I how many hated the preacher. 9 But the business of Convocation was not over, nor did it cease with the grant of a subsidy, for which it had been summoned by the King, at the advice of his all-ruling minister Wolsey. The question arose on the extirpation of heresy. Colet, in his sermon, has dared to declare, 9 The substance of the sermon is given iu Siebold, pp. 163-178 : it is well worth, reading. 120 CONVOCATION. CHAP, that the lives of wicked Priests were the worst heresy. VI. ^- A demand was made by those who were more mercifully disposed to the poor Lollards, for a text in Scripture which justified the capital punishment of heretics. Up rose an old divine, and quoted in triumph the words of S. Paul : ( Hereticum hominem post unam et alteram cor- ' reptionem devita.' De vita, he repeated with fiercer emphasis as meaning not ' avoid,' but ' out of life with ' him.' There was" a second argument equally conclusive. In the text, suffer not a witch to live, the Vulgate reads ' maleficus,' an evil-doer, and the heretic is clearly an evil- doer. The Convocation, some of whom had ventured to smile at the first portentous blunder, was satisfied with the logic of the second. It has been suggested that the ' old ' divine ' may have been no less than Fitz James, Bishop of London. 1 But this is utterly unjust. Fitz James had been warden of Merton, and Vice-Chancellor of Oxford. I cannot insult the College or the University by suspecting a man so trained of such monstrous absurdity. Richard Fitz James is extolled by some chroniclers as a man of theological learning and even of goodness. 2 Fitz James was one of those high-born churchmen, piously ignorant and conscientiously blind, with whom a hairsbreadth deviation from established usage and opinion is insolence, sin, worse than sin heresy. He had neither the will nor the power to comprehend Colet, his greatness or his goodness. If the Bishop is wrongly suspected of ignorance of the letter, he certainly was ignorant of the spirit of the Bible. He had but the year before compelled twenty-three Lollards to abjure, two at least he had burned in Smithfield. But, if possible, a darker act, an act which took place in the 1 Siebold, p. 179. There is an in- the authenticity of this story, which genious and satisfactory argument in rests on the authority of Erasmus, the note against Knight's objection to 2 Hall, and others quoted in Wharton. BISHOP FITZ JAMES. 121 Lollards' Tower, the Bishop of London's private prison at CHAP. the south-west corner of the Cathedral, justly or unjustly ^ clouded the memory of Bishop Fitz James. In 1514, Eichard Hunn, a citizen of London, had a dispute with a Priest about a mortuary. Hunn was a fanatic against the abuses of the Ecclesiastical Courts; he brought his suit in a civil court. The Clergy were indignant ; Hunn's house was searched ; a copy of Wycliffe's Bible was found ; Huim was adjudged a heretic. He submitted to penance for the ecclesiastical offence, but persisted in his cause in the King's Court. It was a perilous precedent against the Clergy. One night Hunn was found hung in his prison. The Clergy asserted boldly that it was a despe- rate suicide. The Coroner brought in a verdict of wilful murder (the circumstances were most suspicious) against Dr. Horsey, Chancellor to the Bishop of London, the sumner, and the bellringer of the Cathedral. The King pardoned the criminals, but made them pay a penalty of 1,500/1. to Hunn's family. Fitz James protected his offi- cers, and so, in popular judgment, made himself an ac- complice in their guilt. But the affair ceased not there : the suicide, a heretic, must not rest in consecrated ground; the body was burned sixteen days after, as that of a heretic, in Smithfield. 3 We return to Colet. It was notorious that suspected Lollards crept to S. Paul's to hear the sermons of Colet. He whom Lollards willingly heard must be tainted with Lollardy ; and Colet himself as an innovator could not but be a heretic, the worse heretic because no one could define or prove his heresy. Bishop Fitz James had watched with keen jealousy all Colet's proceedings, and with still gathering alarm at the popularity of the Dean. The Bishop reposed in pleasant indolence at Fulham, except for * Burnet, vol. i. p. 36. 122 COLET ACCUSED OF HERESY. CHAP, an occasional persecution ; the Dean ruled paramount in 1 ' * S. Paul's and in the city. Fitz James beheld the foundation of Colet's School, now rising nearly within the precincts of the Cathedral, with the utmost apprehension, as a semi- nary intended to imbue the city and the realm with new, and therefore dangerous, doctrines. Yet the School, from the unexampled munificence of Colet, continued to rise. Bishop Fitz James presented to the Primate distinct charges of heresy against the Dean of S. Paul's. The wise Warham quietly put them aside without examination or trial. Colet disdained, or was not called upon, to answer such ' foolish' accusations ; and others more foolish, one of which seems to have been the translation of the Lord's Prayer into English for the use of his school. But an occasion soon arose of adducing more perilous charges before the tribunal of a judge, it was hoped, less calm and wise than Warham. King Henry VIII. (we follow out the life of Colet to its close) was plunging into continental Avars with all the ardour of young ambition for conquest. The King was urged and encouraged by Wolsey, whose ambition flew at higher game. Colet from the pulpit at S. Paul's preached a bold and powerful sermon against war. His enemies hurried to the King. Colet was said to have asserted and maintained the well- known adage, ' an unjust peace is better than the most 'just war.' The King sent for Colet; instead of rebuke or punishment, he thanked him for the good which he was doing to his people. He, the King, would teach Colet's accusers, that they should not assail him with impunity. Colet answered, that he would rather sur- render his emoluments than that any should suffer on his account. But neither the war nor the troubles of Colet about the war were at an end. On Good Friday it was Colet's turn to preach before the King at the Chapel COLET'S SEEMON AT WESTMINSTER. 123 Royal. The King had become more passionately war- CHAP, like. Colet preached on the victory of Christ. He spoke . against wars waged from hate or ambition. Rulers should follow the example of Christ, rather than of Csesar or Alexander. The King again sent for Colet ; again not to reprimand him, but to consult him ' for the ease of his ' conscience.' 4 The interview was long : the courtiers (Was Fitz James among them?) watched its issue with undissembled hope. At the close the King said aloud, ' Let every one have his Doctor ; this is the Doctor for ' me.' Colet is said to have preached again, admitting the lawfulness of defensive war. 5 Colet preached another great sermon, not in S. Paul's but in Westminster Abbey, at the installation of Wolsey as Lord Cardinal. 6 Colet dwelt eloquently on the dignity and importance of the office of Cardinal. Colet was no antipapalist : the question of the King's supremacy had not arisen. He concluded with solemn admonitions against pride; admonitions which, even from Colet, would fall on Wolsey on Wolsey, encircled by the whole ob- sequious hierarchy and peerage of England like drops of rain on the hide of a buffalo. In his sphere, and that a most important sphere the Cathedral of the metropolis of London London still growing in opulence and weight in the State ; and as a dignitary in the Church of England, now preparing for the coming Eeformation it is difficult to estimate too highly the influence of John Colet, Dean of S. Paul's. The Cathe- dral was thronged by all ranks, from great dignitaries of Church and State to humble artisans. The Cathedral too, at that time, as before and after, was a great mart as well 4 April 17, 1513. ' trarie.'- Sermon quoted in Wood, 4 Latimer says, 'that Colet should edit. 1498. ' have been burned if God had not 8 Wolsey was created Cardinal ' turned the King's heart to the con- Sept. 11, 1315. 124 COLET'S STATUTES. CHAP, as a church. The walls of the nave and the pillars were VI. - , placarded with advertisements, not only on ecclesiastical matters, but, it is to be feared, of more worldly character. Men met there in multitudes, and the busy, sometimes loud, hum of business, of barter and sale, was heard ; while in the chapels, in the aisles, before the altar of the Virgin, before the High altar, masses were said, and worshippers were kneeling in devout adoration : it may be, while Colet was preaching with all his power. Some no doubt who came to buy and sell ' remained to pray.' Colet does not seem to have interfered to prevent this, to us unholy, profanation. We know not whether he had the will, we doubt if he had the power over his Chapter, to command the suppression of the evil. Over that Chapter he cer- tainly had not the dominant authority or control. He drew up a body of statutes for the church, rigid, but by no means austere or ascetic. But Colet's statutes were never accepted by the Chapter, nor confirmed by the Bishop. Fitz James was not likely to force on a reluctant Chapter statutes framed by Colet. They were then, and remained ever after, a dead letter. But the influence of Colet was not confined to S. Paul's. It has been already seen how much he contributed to en- large the opinions and expand the mind of one as a writer immeasurably greater than himself. On his second visit to England, Erasmus resided chiefly at Cambridge, where he taught Greek in order that he might learn Greek. But in the establishment of his school Erasmus ren- dered Colet invaluable service, wise counsel in the choice of masters, and in the course of study. He even stooped to compose some elementary books for its use. In England too, about this time, were written some of the great scholar's most exquisite satires : the * Praise of * Folly,' in the house of More : some too of the 'Colloquies,' ERASMUS. 125 which, by their irresistible wit, forced their way into the CHAP, very sanctuaries of ignorance and superstition, which they -_ lashed with unsparing ridicule. Even the Monks and Friars could hardly help laughing while they writhed under the lash. Many of these were first whispered into the open ears of Colet. When Colet and Erasmus visited together the shrine of S. Thomas at Canterbury, the irre- pressible scorn of Colet at follies which Erasmus was ex- posing with covert contempt, almost frightened his more timid or prudent friend. 7 On more serious matters the famous ( Enchiridion,' the ' Manual of the Christian Soldier ' spoke throughout the mind of Colet, doubtless sometimes his words. The greater work of Erasmus, his edition of the New Testament, with its invaluable commentaries (the annotations were author- ised by the English Church), owed much to the counsel and to the Christian spirit with which Erasmus was imbued by his intercourse with Colet. Between the two writers of course there is no comparison. Of Colet survives but a single sermon, and the remains of some very early essays. The works of Erasmus, not including his editions of the Fathers, fill huge volumes, which, before they were collected, found their way into every part of the Latin Christian world, and took possession, to a great extent, of the religious mind of Christendom. They are still read by all who would understand the development of Christian theology, or who have any taste for the purest Latinity of modern times. The Colloquies and lighter pieces still de- light the scholar; and though all satirical writings lose their zest with the change of manners which it is their excel- lence truthfully and faithfully to pourtray they have by no means lost their interest, or, historically considered, their 7 Siebold, p. 216. Compare Ni- and Stanley's Memorials of Canter- choll's Pilgrimage to Walsingham, bury. 126 S. PAUL'S SCHOOL. CHAP, usefulness : they are as immortal as the superstitions they ,J expose. John Colet's name is preserved to our days by the pious memory of those who have been educated at the school which he founded in the neighbourhood of the Cathedral, and endowed with a large part of his patrimonial wealth, to the amount of 30,000 or 40,OOOZ. of our money. Among the amiable parts of Colet's character was fondness for children. He placed an image of the youthful Jesus as the guardian and example of his school. But Colet had wider views .than the indulgence of such feelings, re- markable as they may be in one who had denied himself by his ordination vows, and on whose strict adherence to those vows there never was the slightest impeachment, the luxury of the parental affections. 8 He sought to train up generation after generation in the broad and liberal, but devout Christianity which was dawning on his mind and that of his friend Erasmus. His school was to be strictly religious but not monastic. With the rules of the school and the studies to be pursued he took infinite pains. He was assisted by the advice of Erasmus, who, ' as has been said, drew up a grammar and other ele- mentary books for the school. Colet was fortunate in his master, the once-celebrated John Lily, the model of grammarians. 9 He took the greatest pains to provide a second master to act under Lily. Colet deviated in many respects from the usaga of the founders of such schools. 8 ' There was an ancient cathedral ' without the master's licence, except ' school, on which .... Ki chard de ' the masters of S. Mary-le-Bow and ' Belmeis bestowed the " house of ' of S. Martin-le-Grand.' Dugdale, ' Durandus, near the Bell Tower." p. 9. ' This school obtained other endow- 9 The masters Colet chose were ' ments, and the privileges granted by married men ; a tacit repudiation, as 1 Henry of Blois, who administered the Mr. Lupton observes, of the austerer ' diocese, that no one should presume views about the Celibacy of the Clergy ' to teach school in the city of London in his ' Book of the Sacraments.' STATUTES OF THE SCHOOL. 127 Schools attached to cathedrals were usually under the care CHAP. VI and control of the Chapters. But Colet and his Chapter >- ,_ were not in harmony: the Chapter, no doubt, like the Bishops, looked with jealousy on the new learning, with which they were but slightly gifted. They had repudiated Colet's statutes. Colet left the whole conduct of the school and its endowments to the Mercers' Company, to which his father had belonged, and of which himself by descent might claim to be a member. The property, therefore, never being mixed up with that of the Chapter, was probably better managed. To all appearance it has been carefully and justly administered by that honourable company. 1 There are other remarkable provisions in the statutes of Colet's school. In general the founders of those schools had encumbered them with narrow and inflexible regulations, sure to become obsolete, as to the scholars to be admitted, and the studies to be cultivated. In such schools there is a constant strife with the knowledge and the manners of succeeding ages. With a wise prescience Colet threw aside all these manacles on posterity. There is no limitation whatever as to admission of descent, kin, or country, or station. It is a free school in the broadest sense. Of all the multitudes who then or thereafter might flow to central, busy, metropolitan London, no children were proscribed or excluded. It is a more singular instance of prophetic sagacity, that Colet should have anticipated the truth so long undreamed of, that education must conform itself to the social state, the habits, manners, wants, and progressive knowledge of the day. The studies in S. Paul's School are absolutely without statutable restrictions. They may 1 "With Mr. Siebold, I reject the in frequent flagellation, to Colet, to application of the Orbilian ideal of a whom it has been rather maliciously schoolmaster, whose whole skill was referred. 128 DEATH OF COLET. CHAP, adapt themselves, or be adapted by the wisdom of the ^ master, to the demands of every period and stage of civil- isation. And this from a man of the profound religion of Colet ! But Colet saw that the dominant religion, or rather the form of that religion, was drawing to a close, and who should determine where that change would be arrested ? Christianity would never fail ; but what was to be the Christianity of the future, John Colet presumed not to foresee. 2 Colet was meditating retirement from his labours ; it is said, from the petty harassing persecutions of Bishop Fitz James. His health had suffered from more than one attack of the fatal malady of the times, the sweating sickness. The survivor of twenty- two children might well tremble for the precarious tenure of life. His retire- ment could be hardly anywhere but to a monastery a monastery sufficiently religious, but not too monastic. This was difficult to find. Colet chose the house of the Carthusians at Sheen, but, before he could enter into his earthly repose, he was carried off by his obstinate enemy, the sweating sickness, at the age of fifty- three. No one who would do justice to the wisdom and the religion of Colet, will hesita.te to read the famous letter of Erasmus to Justus Jbdocus, in which he describes, with eloquence which conies from the heart, and, as far as we can judge, with unquestionable truth, the two most perfect Christians whom the world, in his time, had seen. One of them was John Colet, Dean of S. Paul's. 2 S. Paul's School, Colet's, must King at Gravesend, in 1527, in Mr. have risen rapidly to eminence. See Froude, vol. i. pp. 75, 76. The the very curious account of the plays School can hardly have been founded performed by the scholars before the before 1512. CHAPTEK OF S. PAUL'S. 129 CHAPTEE VII. THE CHAPTEE OF S. PAUL'S. REVENUES. FABRIC OF THE CATHEDEAL. SOME of the earlier authorities give the appellation of CHAP, monastery to S. Paul's. This is, no doubt, erroneous. It -_ arose from the desire of making S. Paul's a counterpart to the great monastery of S. Peter's in Thorney Island (Westminster). But, from their foundation, the members of the Chapter of S. Paul's were secular priests, and con- stantly bore the name of Canons, or, improperly, Pre- bendaries, from the prebends or portions attached to each stall. S. Paul's was surrounded, indeed, with great monastic establishments. At its feet were the Black Friars (the Dominicans), near the opening on Blackfriars Bridge : beyond, the White Friars (Carmelites), whose precincts degenerated into what was called Alsatia. Beyond was the magnificent abode of the Templars. On the north side of Ludgate Hill were the Grey Friars (Franciscans), who occupied the site of Christ's Hospital. Further back, the rich Priory of S. John's, Clerkenwell, and a convent of Sisters of S. Clare. Then the Priory of S. Bartholomew's, Smithfield ; the Holy Trinity, within Aldgate ; and the Car- thusians (the Charter House), those brothers who so in- trepidly resisted and so nobly died for their faith at the beginning of the Eeformation. But S. Paul's had no re- lation with any of these institutions. Even to the Bishop K 130 THIKTY CANONS OF S. PAUL'S. CHAP, these monasteries acknowledged but doubtful, limited, ,-1 ' and contested subjection. The Bishop, with the Dean and his thirty Canons, con- stituted the great Chapter. To the Dean and Canons be- longed, in theory and in form, the election of the Bishop. But it was usually as barren and unreal an honour as in our days. As the Pope or the King were in the ascend- ant, came the irresistible nomination, which it would have been perilous for the Chapter to refuse impos- sible to elude. But the right of confirmation was always claimed by the Pope ; who, by provisions, and those other ingenious devices by which the Papal Court secured to itself the appointment to so many sees in England, frequently nominated directly the Bishop of London. Yet, even in the high days of Papal usurpation, no Italian appeared on the episcopal throne of the English capital. A dean, indeed, appears exhibiting this abuse in its most monstrous form. Clement V., the first Avignonese pontiff (how he obtained the Pontificate is a dark history 1 ), had a nephew, the Cardinal Deacon, Raymond de la Goth. The Pope thrust him in, by his assumed power, successively (he did not hold more than two deaneries together) into the rich deaneries of London, Salisbury, and Lincoln, with other fat benefices. This act of nepotism made no favour- able impression in England. ' He was a youth too much ' beloved by the Pope ; he was well-disposed, but too lux- ' urious' a pregnant word ! 2 During the earlier period, the Bishop appears at the head and as the active ruling authority in the Cathedral. After the demolition of the old Anglo-Saxon building by fire, soon after the Conquest, it is the Bishop Maurice who undertakes and defrays the cost of the new cathedral. 1 Latin Christianity, TO!, rii. p. 171. 2 Hist. Dunelm., quoted by Wharton, p. 214. BISHOPS OF LONDON. 131 His successor, Richard de Belmeis, devoted his whole CHAP. revenues to this sole purpose. The glory and the burden > '_ of the holy work is borne by the Bishop, or by contribu- tions under his authority and influence, levied on the churches in the diocese or throughout the realm, or from the piety or wealth of prelates, nobles, kings, or the citizens of London. Still the Bishop is the one superior power and representative of the Cathedral. The Palace was in the precincts, closely bordering on the Church. At what time, and for what reasons, the Bishop with- drew from this continual administration and government of the Cathedral does not appear. The secession was probably gradual. It is most likely, that when the Bishop of London became, as he did at an early period, and continued to be, one of the great officers of state, Chancellor, High Treasurer, the King's Ambassador in foreign realms, the administration would fall to the Dean and Chapter, and so silently become their privilege and right. The Bishop, too, was glad to retire to his pleasant manor of Fulham, from which we have seen him imprisoned in the reign of King Stephen, and thus withdrew himself from regular attendance on the services of S. Paul's. And so the chief seat and government would fall to the Dean, for whom a convenient residence is said to have been built in the reign of Stephen, and was certainly built by Ralph de Diceto. 3 3 A curious question arose about ' involved in the billows of litigation, the administration of the Diocese and ' often begotten by unbridled covetous- the revenues of the Bishopric, during ' ness, whom the Father of lies so de- the vacancy of the See. This, as has ' lights to send, may be brought to the appeared, was often exercised by the ' serenity of that peace which passes Dean and Chapter. But an agree- ' all understanding, the authorof which ment was made, perhaps enforced, by 'is none other than the high Thunderer' Archbishop Boniface (as we have (Altitonans). The Archbishop (to seen, no great friend of the Chap- whom covetousness was so odious) ter), in the magniloquent sacred Ian- ordained that the Residentiaries were guage of the time, that ' those who are to signify the vacancy immediately to K 2 132 CHAPTEE OF S. PAUL'S. CHAP. The Dean and Chapter appear as the usual ruling and ^ ' administrative body. The foundation and gradual growth of the Chapter stretches up into the Anglo-Saxon period, where it is lost in obscurity. Of its origin, at what time the number of Canons attained to, or was limited to, thirty, there is no trustworthy record or tradition ; that they were the owners of landed estates at a very remote period, is clear beyond doubt. Though the authority of the Anglo-Saxon charters printed by Dugdale and Mr. Kemble may be more than questionable, yet, as Archdeacon Hale has acutely observed, the forgery of such documents proves the actual possession of the estates at the time, and that was a very remote time, when the antiquity of those grants was attempted to be proved by supposititious charters. The false titledeeds prove that the estates were in the hands of the forgers. The thirty Canons or Prebendaries formed the greater Chapter. In this Chapter the preeminence or presidency of the Dean was recognised and established by statute. The Dean had supreme authority; was bound to defend the liberties of the Church ; was bound by his oath himself to observe, and to compel all others, from the Canons down to the lowest officers and servants, to observe the laudable customs of the Church, to watch over all the pos- sessions of the Church, and to recover whatever might have been lost or alienated. 4 He had authority also over all who inhabited the manors and estates ; an authority the Archbishop's Official, who being 4 The Statutes of S. Paul's exist sworn before the Archbishop to the in several copies of different ages, faithful discharge of his trust, should There is no important difference. What assume the jurisdiction, give away has been considered the authoritative benefices, perform visitations, and ac- copy is contained in what is called the count for all the proceeds of the See ' liber pilosus,' from its shaggy cover, to the Archbishop. This decree was A beautiful MS. of the Statutes, somewhat modified by Archbishop made by and for Dean Lisieux, 1441- Kilwarby. Appendix to Wharton, 1456, has strayed into the University u - U1 - Library at Cambridge. They may be THE DEAN. 133 which singularly combined the seignorial and spiritual CHAP, jurisdictions. He was the guardian at once of the rights . , '_ and interests of the poorer tenants and, it may almost be said, vassals, as well as of their morals and religion. 5 The Dean presided in all causes brought before the Chapter, and determined them, with the advice of the Chapter. He corrected, with the advice of the Chapter, all excesses and contumacies. Lighter offences of inferior persons were punished by the Chancellor. The Bishop had no authority in capitular affairs, except on appeal. The Dean, for more heinous offences, could expel from the choir, and cut off all stipends and emoluments, ' with ' discretion, to the edification, not the destruction, of the ' church.' These words are in Colet's unaccepted code ; but the same spirit prevails throughout the older statutes, only in different forms. The Dean had a Subdean to perform his functions, when abroad or incapacitated from duty, with authority over all the inferior members of the church, except the Canons. But this autocracy of the Dean was not held without contest. We have heard the dispute about the election of a Bishop and the appeal to Eome, and the Papal decree that no election was valid at which the Dean was not present, and did not give the first suffrage. Later, too, occurred the bold attempt to seclude the Dean from the body, as holding no prebend, and therefore not one of the thirty, and of consequence with no title to share in the capitular revenues. The Dean, as was no doubt argued, had his separate estates, and therefore had nothing read in Dugdale. Colet's scheme of and the parishioners for all kinds of Statutes (MS.) never came into ope- irregularities and immoralities. The ration. clergy are by no means unexception- 5 There exists in our archives the able, the parishioners by no means register of a visitation, 1388, in which paragons of virtue, appear the presentations of the clergy 134 RESIDENTIARY. CHAP, to do with the common fund. Bishop Sudbury, to whom VII. - r^- appeal was made, in order that the Dean might not be forced to remain outside the closed door of the Chapter House while the Chapter were transacting the business, and ' because the office of Dean was of great dignity, but * small revenue,' attached a prebendal stall to the Deanery, that of Chamberlain's Wood. 6 From that time the Dean seems to have been always presented by the Bishop to a prebendal stall, though not always to the one awarded by Sudbury. Thus he assumed his uncontested presidency in all the affairs of the Chapter. The constitution of the Chapter of thirty Canons and the Dean contemplated the constant residence of the whole body, and their daily attendance on all the services of the church, with their Minor Canons and other officiating ministers. A non-resident Canon was an abuse abhorrent to the more austere clergy. Colet looked back to those purer times (he might have found it difficult to fix their date), with bitter but undisguised condemnation of the degeneracy of his own days. But many causes conspired to break up this magnificent theory of cathedral worship. These Canons (S. Paul's was no exception) held prebends in several churches, many of them cure of souls, which de- manded some portion at least of their time. From an early period the thirty Canons had thirty deputies (probably in minor orders) who chanted the service, and who have now dwindled down to six lay vicars. Throughout the good old rule prevailed, that there should be one to perform the duty while the other secured the emoluments. But that which chiefly disturbed the splendid ideal, was the nature and distribution of the cathedral revenue. ' The * Domesday of S. Paul's ' (writes Archdeacon Hale in his 1 ' Quod licet Decanatus nostrae ' magni nominis, exilis tamen in ' ecclesiae Londinensis prsedictus, sit ' valore.' "Wilkins, rol. iii. p. 78. ' DOMESDAY OF S. PAUL'S.' 135 publication of that work, (' a model of antiquarian disquisi- CHAP. ' tion,' 7 ) 'does not include all the lands belonging to thePre- ,_L_ ' bendaries of the church, as the endowments or " corpses " ' of their Prebends, but only those manors which formed ' the commune, the revenue and produce of which were ' appropriated to the support and sustenance of all the ' members of the cathedral, in regular gradation, from the ' highest personage, the Dean, to the humblest servitor, * the doorkeeper of the brewery. It is remarkable, that, ' though the Statutes of the Cathedral describe the thirty ' prebendaries as forming with the Bishop " unum corpus," ' there is no evidence of his sharing with them any part * of the revenue, or living in intercourse with them. The ' Bishops of London appear to have possessed their manors ' in the time of the Anglo-Saxon kings in their own right, ' for there are no traces of the episcopal lands having at ' any time belonged to the cathedral.' 8 The theory of the Chapter contemplated a life led in common, not conventual (there was no seclusion), but rather collegiate ; and the common fund from the demesne lands, as described in the Domesday, went to the main- tenance of this comprehensive college. There was a common hall or refectory ; a common kitchen, buttery, brewhouse, bakehouse, mill, to each of which parts of the rents were paid, to a great extent in kind, and corn, malt, provisions, were assigned; Each member and servant of the Chapter received his portion or pittance. There was a common dormitory ; 9 but first the Dean, then probably the residentiaries, had their separate houses. 1 7 Printed for the Camden Society. 2, 3. This book is not only curious as re- 9 This, probably, was the Promptu- gards S. Paul's, but is full of infor- arium, on the abuses of which Edward ination on the history and tenure of III. animadverted in such strong landed property in England. phrases. See p. 82. " Introduction to Domesday, pp. ' For the situation of the Bake- 136 MANOE OF THE CHAPTEE. The Domesday of S. Paul's gives the extent of this capitular property its tenure, its administration, the tenants, with the payments of each ; their station, occu- pation, duties, rights, and privileges. The Domesday con- tains the account of three visitations or inquisitions of those manors or estates, at different periods ; one frag- mentary in the time of Ralph de Diceto, A.D. 1181 ; the two others in 1222 and 1281. The extent of the progress or visitation is best shown in the imperfect record of that under Diceto. It commences at the most remote manors, Cadyngton Major and Minor, near Dunstable, and Kenswick in Bedfordshire. 2 Thence to Ardely and Sandon in Hertfordshire. Thence to Essex, to Belchamp S. Paul's, and Wickham ; to the great manor of Adulfshase, which comprehended Kirkeby, Tidmorteton, (Heybridge) Tillingham, Eunwell, Barling. Then to Newton Mandeville and Naistock, to Chingford. Thence to Barnes in Surrey, and back across the Thames to Drayton in Middlesex, and Sutton (Chiswick). We must not, however, consider this vast range of seig- noralty, or ownership, in the modern sense of the word, as implying a fall rent assessed according to the real value of the land. The ecclesiastical lord of the manor (he was usually most indulgent), as well as other lords, was limited in his rights and demands by usages 3 as strong as laws, in favour of the tenant, or even of the villain, so long as the villain existed as cultivator of the soil. The customs were as potent for the protection of the lowest as for the rights of the highest. Each manor was, as it were, a small republic, in which everyone, from the lord to the cottier, had his customary claims and no more. The lord visited his house in Godliman Street, see Hale, p. 2 Archdeacon Hale gives the days xrviii., with the quantity baked, and of each inquest, p. vii. viii. the distribution to the different mem- * Consuetudines. bers of the Chapter. TENURE OF LANDS. 137 estates, but it was to see that his own rights were not en- CHAP. VII croached upon, that his farmer did his duty ; and also that ,_ _ the tenants did theirs ; that justice was done to the estate. He had to maintain his own claims, to inhibit exaction or oppression of the lower holders by the higher ones ; he was the protector of the general interests, rather than the arbi- trary asserter of his own. It was an inquisition, rather than a mere collection of rents. It was a court in which a jury was or might be impannelled to ascertain boun- daries, to resolve doubtful or disputed questions of right. Among the subjects of special enquiry were the number of teams, horses or oxen, and the live-stock of all kinds, which the tenant was bound to keep up. The manors of S. Paul's, like the royal and other manors, were held partly by tenants, partly in demesne. The demesne lands were cultivated, according to fixed rules, by the praedial servants of the Chapter. 4 The farmer of the lord received the profits, and transmitted them, either in money or in kind, to the Chapter. 5 The general result of this survey of the manor of S. Paul's is, that the Chapter were assessed as holding 133^ hides. Each hide was 120 acres. But the assessment was generally only at two-thirds of the real extent. 6 ' Ac- ' cordingly the 1 33^ hides of S. Paul's would have con- ( tained only 16,020 acres ; an enumeration of the whole * of the lands shows an actual acreage of towards 24,000 ' acres. Of these 24,000 acres, three-eighths were in de- * mesne, and five-eighths belonged to the tenants, being ( for the most part lands of inheritance, subject to the rents c and services of which we shall have further notice.' 4 The manors of the Dean and to belong to the Bakehouse of the Chapter were exempt from the King's Chapter. Purveyors. This privilege was granted 5 On their right, Hale, xxvi. by Edward II. Certain churches in 6 Hale, p. xiv. Essex are said in this Instrument 138 SEPARATE ESTATES OF PREBEND AEIES. CHAP. But the Domesday takes account only of the manors - , or estates belonging to the general fund ; the 24,000 acres do not comprehend the separate estates attached to the Deanery, or that of each individual Prebendary, the corpus inalienably attached to each of the several thirty Canons. 'At what period certain lands were so attached, ' and the manors described in the Domesday, separated from ' the rest to form the " Commune," is unknown. There is ' reason to believe that this arrangement was begun, if not ( completed, before the Conquest.' 7 The situation of these prebendal estates is remarkable. Eight only were at some distance from the Cathedral. Two were in Bedfordshire, I Cadyngton Major and II Minor, adjoining the manors of the Chapter; five in Essex; III Sneating and IY Consumpta per Mare, 8 within the chapter manor of Adelvesnassa ; V Ealdland; VI Weldland; and VII Eeculver Land and Til- lingham, said to have been the first grant of King Ethel- bert, and VIII Chiswick in Middlesex. The other twenty- two bordered on London, nine 'in Willesden, a fertile tract of heath and arable and woodland stretching from Hamp>- stead, and the borders of the Westminster estate at Pad- din gton, nearly to the foot of Harrow Hill, the Arch- bishop's Peculiar, IX Willesden, X Bromsbury, XI Browns- wood, XII Chamberlain's Wood, XIII Mapesbury, XIV Neasdon, XV Harlesden, XVI Oxgate, XVII Twyford. The rest formed a broad belt, extending from the walls of the City of London, from the Bishop's Manor of Stepney 9 to * The reasons in Hale, p. iv. beasts of chase therein. He was vio- 8 The inroad of the sea, which lently opposed by the City Wards, who swallowed up this manor, was about ' time out of mind had been used to the time of the Conquest. ' chase and to hunt within the woods 8 Bishop Richard de Graresend as- ' aforesaid, and without hares, foxes, pired to be a preserver of game. He ' rabbits, and other beasts, where and wanted to enclose two woods of his, ' when they might please.' Memorials in the ville of ' Stebenhethe,' lying of London, p. 28. round his manor, that he might place NUMBEE OF KESIDENTIAKIES. 139 Pancras, XVIII Pancras, XIX Rugmere, XX Totenhall, CHAP. VII XXI Kentish Town, XXII Isledon (Islington), XXIII New- ^~ ington, XXIV Holborn, XXV Portpool, XXVI Finsbury, XXVII Hoxton, XXVIII Wenlock's Barn, XXIX Mora, XXX Eald Street. Thus these Prebendal estates compre- hended a large part of the present suburbs of London, and of the crowded parishes to the North of London. But gradually, it should seem by no means slowly, the Canons found the strict residence contemplated by the con- stitution (notwithstanding that each had his deputy), and the attendance on the daily service, irksome ; it was more pleasant for each one to retire to the enjoyment of his pre- bendal estate. The Bishop at Fulham had set the example. Some Canons, no doubt, held their stalls as one of many pluralities, for prebends were in those days lavishly be- stowed throughout the Church with no regard to special duties, and were held by Bishops, dignitaries, and for- eigners. Thus the splendid company shrunk by degrees; the services of the Church devolved on a still diminishing few, who took the name of Residentiaries. 1 The abuse at length became so flagrant, that ecclesiastical authority was compelled to interfere, and to enforce the duties, rather than confer the honours, of residence ; Episcopal, Papal, even Royal decrees were necessary to fix a number sufficient to maintain the majesty of the ceremonial. The number seems to have varied from five down to two. 2 In process of time came a great change. The common fund from the demesne lands, and from other sources hereafter to be described, increased to an enormous extent : it fell almost exclusively to the share of the Resi- dentiaries. Residence became an object of cupidity and competition. All the thirty were now as eager to avail themselves of their once despised rights, as they were 1 Called also ' Stagiarii.' * Refer back to p. 83. 140 THE TREASURER. CHAP, before to elude the burdensome duties. 3 The same author- , - ity was now necessary to limit the number of residents, as had before been invoked to compel residence. Epis- copal and Papal decrees determined the numbers, which nevertheless floated for a long time in uncertainty. So grew up a Chapter within the Chapter, which under- took to discharge, with some other dignitaries, all the offices of the Church; to maintain the services, to adminis- ter, and for their own advantage exclusively, the common revenues of the Cathedral. The non-resident prebend- aries still kept up an honorary relation to the Cathedral : each had his stall to which he was duly admitted, with the title of the prebend above it ; and they claimed, not without success, some share in the distribution of the com- mon fund, some loaves from the bakehouse, and other, small rights. But as their prebendal estates were severed and became entirely independent of the Cathedral (they were let on leases, some of which, as Finsbury and Pancras, grew almost to fabulous value), so they lost all claim on the capitular estates, vested in the Residentiaries alone. 4 The Bishop, Dean, and Canons were not the only officers in the ecclesiastical army of S. Paul's ; there were many others, who had special endowments. The Treasurer was an officer of great dignity and importance in the Cathedral. The treasurership was founded under Richard de Sigillo, bishop in the reign of Stephen. It was specially endowed by Richard de Belmeis, the second of that name, with the sanction and consent of Richard, Archbishop of Canter- bury, and his suffragans, with four churches, Sudmin- ster, Oldbury, Pelham Farnell, and Pelham Sarners. 5 To s See above some of the ingenious ' directly to themselves, some Clericus, devices of the Residentiaries to ex- ' to whom they were entrusted, or to elude new brethren. ' their Firmarius.' 4 ' The Canons of S. Paul's derived Hale, xxii. This means that the ' a revenue from nearly all the churches Treasurer had the tithes, and appointed ' of their manors ; it was paid either a Vicar to do the duty. Dugdale, p. 7. SACEIST. VERGERS. 141 this endowment was attached the burden of providing 800 CHAP. VII pounds' weight of wax for the lamps of the church, oil, ,-1- incense, and coals, with all that was necessary for decency, washing the church, with the vestments and vessels. The Treasurer was the responsible guardian of the treasures of the church, and ample indeed they were. Reliques, first in value and importance ; books, of which there is a curious catalogue ; vessels of gold and silver, vestments, chalices, crosses, curtains, cushions, palls. He was answerable to the Dean and Chapter for the safe custody of all these precious things, and could not lend any of them without consent of the Dean and Chapter. Under the Treasurer was the Sacrist. His office was to superintend the tolling of the bells, to open the doors of the church at the appointed times, to dress the altars, and take care that the vessels and vestments were clean and in good order. The sacrist was to take care that there was in the church, even on the festivals, no crowd, noise, nor singing, neither talking, quarrelling, nor jesting, neither business nor sleeping. He was to maintain order, and conduct every one to his proper place. 6 Under the Sacrist were the four wand-bearers, Yergers, whose functions the statutes describe with great rigour and minuteness. One was always to be present, except during hours of refreshment. They were, as the sacrist's servants, to look to the tolling of the bell, the keeping of the church clean, to prepare everything for the divine service, to pry into every dark corner of the church, lest 6 There were separate parts of the purpose. In the third, no one church : 1. The vestibule, into which could enter without his habit, or who lay worshippers were freely admitted, had to minister in the church. In under the especial charge of the sa- the Nave no one was admitted but the crist, that there should be no crowd or Dean, Canons, the Treasurer, Sacrist, confusion. Then the second, a sacred and their necessary servants. This part, into which no layman could rule must have fallen into disuse, or enter without leave from the Dean the vestibule must have been brought and Chapter, or for some necessary to comprehend the nave. 142 CHANCELLOE. PEECENTOR, CHAP, there should be anything wrong or unseemly lurking vn - _ there. They were to watch that no one entered the church with his head covered, to sweep the pavement, to clear the arches, windows, and other parts of the building from dust and cobwebs. They were to obey the Sacrist, who was to obey the Treasurer, who was to obey the Dean. There were other instructions, by all accounts at no time carried out with rigid severity. They were to take care as to persons of bad repute entering the church, common prostitutes, men carrying burdens, beggars ' who lie down, filthy and ( sleepy,' or troublesome to worshippers at their devotions : such persons they were to expel and eject. They were to assign vaults in the cemeteries, to be particularly civil to those who came on such business, and to make no extor- tionate demands. The Yergers' office was not perpetual. Every Michaelmas they were to appear, to deliver their wands into the hands of the Dean, who would hear any just complaints against them, praise, or blame bad conduct ; for lighter offences restore them, on promise of amendment; for graver dismiss them from their office. 7 Besides the Treasurer and his subordinates, the Sacrist, and the Vergers, were the Chancellor and the Precentor. The Chancellor was the scribe of the Chapter, wrote all the letters issued "by the corporation, had the custody of the seal, and affixed it to all their letters and documents. The Chancellor was also their minister of public instruc- tion, superintended the schools, and the education of those who were under tuition. The Precentor organised, arranged, conducted the 7 It is added in the statute, that no man can serve two masters, the because having a wife is a trouble- Vergers are to be either bachelors, some and disturbing affair, and hus- or to give up their wives. Dugdale, bands are apt to study the wishes of p. 346. their wives or their mistresses, and OTHEE OFFICERS. 143 musical service, determined the chants was, in short, the CHAP. VII. master and leader of the choir. He had under him a , Succentor. Besides these officers, the Archdeacons of the diocese, London, Middlesex, Colchester had their stalls in the church, though not of the thirty who constituted the Chapter. The Minor Canons were a college of twelve priests, founded in the time of Eichard II., and endowed with their own estates. The form of their election was that they presented two to the Chapter, who selected one. They were under the authority and statutes of the cathedral, though holding independent estates. The divinity lecture was founded and endowed by Bishop Eichard de Gravesend. The office was originally attached to the chancellorship. But the estates and manors with their rents and other proceeds were not the only sources of the revenues of the Chapter, at least of the Dean and Eesidentiaries. There were other, if more precarious, yet large and increasing emoluments, which may further account for the growing eagerness with which the Eesidentiaryship, once declined as a heavy and unprofitable burden, became an object of ambition and contest, as much coveted as before evaded. ' The benefit was not small which they had by celebra- ' ting the obsequies of sundry great persons ; as of Queen ' Anne, wife of Eichard II., whose hearse was adorned with t the banner of her arms and of the King's ; so also of the ' Earl of S. Paul, in the reign of Henry VI. ; of Maximilian ' the Emperor ; of the Emperor Charles V. ; of Isabel and ' Joan, wives of the said Emperor; of theEmperor Ferdinand, ' brother of the said Charles ; of Charles VEIL, King of ' France ; Anne, Queen of France, Duchess and sole heir of ' Brittany ; of Louis XII., Francis L, and Henry II., Kings 144 KOYAL FUNERALS. CHAP. * likewise of France ; as also of Philip, King of Castile, VII <- ' Ferdinand of Arragon, and John, King of Portugal ; and ' sundry eminent men of our own nation, the mention of ' whom, for brevity sake, I pass by.' 8 ' The state and order in the performance of other obse- c quies was little inferior to that used at the funerals of ' these great princes; the church and quire being hung with ' black, and escutcheons of their arms ; their hearses set * up in wonderful magnificence, adorned with rich banner- ' rolls, pencils, and environed with banners, being chief * mourners and assistants, accompanied with divers bishops ' and abbots in pontificalibus ; so likewise with ambassa- i dors of foreign princes, and many of our English nobility, ' the Knights of the Garter, Lord Mayor of London, and ' the several companies of this great city, and lastly hav- f ing solemn service and mass on the morrow.' All these splendid paraphernalia, on the principle that whatever was brought into the Church belonged to the Church, besides the offerings, went to the treasury of the Chapter. These splendid obsequies of kings and nobles were not the only tribute paid by the dead to the Cathedral. In those days it was the universal belief that the prayers of the faithful, and the masses of the priest, could influence the fate of the dead, either by mitigating or shortening the pains of inevitable Purgatory, slaking the penal fires, or cutting off years of suffering. The pious prudence, there- fore, of the living, or the desperate devotion of the dying, or the reverence and affection of friends or kindred in some cases, national admiration eager to do honour to men of renown provided for the due celebration of these ines- timable orisons. The simpler form was that of the obit, on anniversary of the death, performed by the ordinary functionaries of the Church on some especial day ; 9 the Dugdale, p. vi. Ibid. p. 356. CHANTRIES. 145 sums paid for these anniversaries were distributed in cer- CHAP, tain proportions to the clergy and ecclesiastics present; -_ , unless otherwise specially provided, the Residentiaries re- ceived a double portion. Of the amount of these obits an estimate may be formed from a statement in Dugdale, perhaps more fully and accurately in an annual account from our archives. 1 The number of anniversaries was CXI. The payments amounted in the whole to 3,678s. 5d., of which the Dean and Canons Residentiary present received 1,461s., about 73Z. Multiply by 15, to bring to present value, 1,075?. The rest was distributed according to rule. 2 But the more ambitious and prodigal mode of securing the welfare of the soul was by the foundation of chantries, in which masses were to be sung for the departed, even to the day of doom. None could know when their inex- haustible power would cease to be wanted, or cease to be efficacious. In these chantries S. Paul's was probably more rich than most cathedral churches, at least in England. Their number is almost beyond calculation. 3 They were founded by Kings, Henry IV., Edward IV., by Bishops, Deans, and Canons, by Earls and other nobles, by Judges, and by wealthy Citizens of London. They varied in value with the wealth and munificence of the founders, from lands, manors, messuages, and rents, to lamps and candles, and pittances of bread and wine these chiefly to be dis- tributed to the poor. The chantry founded by King Henry IV. was among the most richly endowed. It was for the souls of his father, John, Duke of Lancaster, on February 4th, and of Blanche, his mother, on Sep- tember 12th. It stipulated for the services to be per- 1 See Appendix furnished by Arch- s In Dugdale' s 8. Paul's they fill deacon Hale. nearly forty folio pages. 4 Note to Latin Christianity, iv. 27. L 146 JOHN OF GAUNT'S CHANTEY. CHAP, formed on those hallowed days, Placebo, Dirige, anthems, - -" psalms, and lessons. It assigned stipends to the Dean, the Canons, down to the Vergers and Bell-ringers ; to the Mayor and Sheriffs of London for their attendance. A house was rented of the Bishop of London, in which the chantry priests were to reside, and due provision made for the repair of this mansion. Besides chalices, missals, bread, wine, wax and glasses, eighty tapers were to burn for ever on the said anniversaries, and on other great festivals. The whole was secured on certain lands and messuages in the city of London. It would seem that John of Gaunt had provided also in his will for the welfare of himself and his wife Blanche. Two chaplains were to celebrate divine service every day and for ever for the rest of their souls. Among the Bishop-founders of chantries was Eoger Niger. One had been founded for the soul of Fulk Basset, by one of his kindred, Sir Philip Basset ; others for Ealph de Baldock, the two Gravesends, Richard and Stephen, Michael Northburg, Robert Braybroke. 4 The most splen- did, however, seems to have been that of Thomas Kemp. King Edward IV., for the singular reverence which he bore unto God and unto the Blessed Virgin Mary, and to the devout confessors, S. Erkenwald and S. Ethelbert, granted license to Thomas Kemp (observe the Royal license) to found a chantry to be served daily by the Confessor of the Bishop of London. It was for the good estate of King Edward and Elizabeth his Consort, as also for the Bishop, during their lives in this world, and for the health of their souls after their departure thence; moreover, for the souls of the said King's progenitors, for the parents and benefac- tors of the said Bishop, and all the faithful deceased. The endowment was in lands, forest and meadow, 1 70 acres in 4 Bishop Braybroke consolidated some of these endowments, of small value, into one. SIK J. PULTENEY. 147 the county of Essex, This chantry had a beautiful chapel, CHAP, between the north aisle and nave of the church. ,_!_ Of the citizens of London, the most munificent was Sir John Pulteney, Knight, who had been four times Lord Mayor, in honour of the Church of S. Paul, which he re- garded with filial affection as his mother. 5 (He was buried in S. Lawrence, ever after called S. Lawrence Pulteney.) Pulteney endowed a chantry for three priests ; he specified his mother and other kindred and friends, John de Strat- ford, Archbishop of Canterbury, and the souls of his parents and benefactors, and all the faithful deceased. 6 Of these endowments some portion doubtless accrued to the Dean and Residentiaries ; Henry IV., it has been seen, assigned them a specific portion. But it is questionable whether, of the rest, the larger part fell to the lot of those who discharged the duties. These duties were performed by a peculiar class and order, called Mass Priests. The Statutes of S. Paul's recognised a large body of chaplains not actually belonging to the corporations either of Canons or Minor Canons, but more loosely attached to the establish- ment. Chaucer's Parson's Tale shows that these appoint- ments were in request among the country clergy. To the praise of the good Parson he records that he Sette not his Benefice on hire, And lette his shepe encumbered in the mire, And ran unto London unto Poules To seken him a chanterie for soules. The Statutes of S. Paul's, however, rigidly prohibit the holding this office and a benefice with cure of souls. The prohibition, perhaps, confirms the usage. These Mass Priests (probably those of S. Paul's were no better than the rest) bore but an indifferent reputation. 5 Dugdale, p. 22. this Chantry. Memorials of London, * See Presentation of a Priest to by Mr. Riley, p. 269. 148 MASS PRIESTS. CHAP. At one time they had the audacity to demand higher _ * L . salaries. It can hardly be doubted that these were the priests whom Archbishop Sudbury, after the example of his predecessor, Simon Islip, denounced in unmeasured phrases. These are described as celebrating anniversaries 7 (the description exactly suits the Mass Priests). It asserts that they are so infected with the vice of covetous- ness, that, not content with reasonable stipends, they demand, and sometimes receive, exorbitant salaries; and the aforesaid priests, so covetous and delicate, return to their vomit, become uncontrollably mad and unbearable, some of them indulging in gluttony and lust (I must soften the mild Archbishop's words), plunging into the deepest gulphs of evil, to the odious scandal of all ecclesiastics, and most pernicious example to the laity. They are hence- forth, it is ordered, to be content with five marks a year for those without cure of souls, for those with such cures, with six. 8 The truth probably was that these rude and illiterate priests, more especially those without cure of souls, after the morning mass, had much idle time on their hands, and no resort but the taverns or less reputable houses, which they are said in many accounts to have haunted, and thus brought discredit on their better brethren, if such there were. On the other hand there is a letter, sealed with the mayoralty seal, to the Dean and Chapter of S. Paul's, com- plaining that many tenements and rents in the same city have been ' devised for founding and maintaining divers * chantries in the same Church, and for offering up prayers ' and other devotions perpetually for their souls.' The foundation deeds were in the Chapter archives and at Guildhall, * and whereas we have fully understood, and 1 also do see it daily with our eyes, when we pass by your 7 Annualia celebrantes. 8 Wilkins, vol. iii. p. 136. CHAPELS. 149 ' Church of S. Paul the which we do hold to be our CHAP. VII ' Mother Church that there are but few chaplains to sing ,-U. ' there in proportion to the chantries which in the said ' Church have been founded, to the great peril of your 1 souls, who ought to oversee such chantries, maintain and * support the same, we do pray and request you, to the ' honour of God, and for the profit of the said Church, and ( of yourselves and your successors, that you will cause ' such fault to be amended and redressed.' They proceed to urge, that no person who holds a chantry at S. Paul's should hold one elsewhere, and then only a single chantry, at the which he must be personally in attendance. 9 Some of these chantries, or chapels, were of exquisite grace and workmanship ; some stood within, some with- out the church. There was one in Pardon Churchyard, on the north side of the church, east of the Bishop's palace, where once stood a chapel, said to have been founded by Gilbert Becket, father of the famous Primate, in which rested the Beckets' ancestors. Thomas Moore, Dean of S. Paul's, obtained a license from King Henry Y. to build a chantry, dedicated to S. Anne and to S. Thomas of Canter- bury. His executors completed the work, and established a daily service for the good estate of King Henry VI., for themselves during their lifetime, and afterwards for their souls, and for the soul of Dean Thomas Moore ; as also for the souls of King Edward III., Richard II., Henry IV., Henry V., Kings of England, Edward late Prince of Wales, Anne late Queen of England. There seems some confusion ; it cannot have been for Edward killed at Tewkesbury, or Anne of Bohemia, or the wife of Edward and Richard III., who were to be prayed for at the same time as for the good estate of Henry VI. as King. All these names (this seems to have been a common Memorials of London Life, 1868, p. 226. Date, A.D. 1385. 150 OBLATIONS. CHAP, custom) were to be written in large characters on a tablet __* ' ^ over the altar, that the worshippers might know for whom they were joining in prayer. Of the collective revenues of all these chantries we have no distinct statement, but the total amount throughout the kingdom, including the amount in S. Paul's, must have been very large. They were thought in the days of plunder to be worthy of a special act of confiscation, by which they were all escheated to the Crown that is, to no national purpose, but to the greedy courtiers then in the ascendant. 1 OBLATIONS. Still more important to the revenues of the Dean and Stagiaries so the Residentiaries were called were the oblations at the crucifixes, altars, and shrines. There were two great crosses one in the nave, which had a special endowment of a small piece of land to main- tain the lights before it. In the north transept was another great cross or crucifix, of the oblations before which more hereafter. The altar of the Blessed Virgin in her own chapel was from an early period endowed with certain payments for the processions of the clergy and the ever-burning tapers. But it would seem that when what was called the New Work, the Choir, was carried out, the Lady's Chapel receded farther eastward, and assumed fairer dimensions and greater splendour. The seven lights, always burning, were main- tained out of the oblations made to the honour of our Lady and S. Lawrence, and the images of S. Lawrence and John the Baptist, which stood within, and of S. Mary Magdalene, which stood just without the chapel. 2 But the great image of the Virgin stood in the nave, fixed to the second pillar on the south side, close to the sumptuous tomb of 1 In Dugdale there is a list of the Test. Eboracensia, p. 227. S. Paul's chantries as returned to the z Dugdale is not quite clear, but Council under Edward VI. Compare this seems the sense of his paragraph. SHKINE OF S. ERKENWALD. 151 Sir John Beau champ. Here the altar was endowed with CHAP, a water-mill, seventy acres of arable land, five of meadow, ^_ . '_ three of pasture, eight of wood, with 43s. only of rent, in Nastock in Essex, granted by John Barnet, Bishop of Bath and Wells (A.D. 1375), for certain services to be annually performed at that shrine. 3 But the pride and glory of S. Paul's, and, it would seem, the richest fountain of wealth, was not, as might have been expected, the shrine of the great apostle, but that of S. Erkenwald. At that shrine were wrought the most frequent miracles, and therefore rained down the most lavish offerings. The body of S. Erkenwald had formerly reposed in the crypt, or undercroft, of the church. It was translated with great pomp in the reign of King Stephen, A.D. 1148, and was deposited immediately behind the high altar. 4 When the church was enlarged, and the high altar receded eastward with the choir, the tomb of S. Erkenwald probably receded also, and retained its place of honour. It was a magnificent shrine, on which the Dean and Chapter lavished no small cost. 5 Three goldsmiths of London were employed for a whole year on the work, one of them at the wages of viiis. a week, the two others at vs. In the year 1400 the work was renewed, and a grate of iron- work tinned over, no doubt of exquisite workmanship, raised to protect it from the too familiar devotion of the * The Anthems and Services, in Dug- ' ibi missam illo die celebravit, altare dale, p. 14. ' discompertum fuit, propter instructa 4 Nova Legenda Angliae, p. cxxxi. ' erecta pictoris officio idonea. In- * According to the Nova Legenda ' numerabilis multitude utriusque Anglise, the vault in the crypt under ' sexus convenit ad oratorium, orare which reposed the body of S. Erken- ' volentes, et oblationes et luminaria wald was richly painted. ' Eo tern- ' ferentes, sed introitus eis non pa- ' pore quo ipsius sancti Presulis prse- ' tuit ; pictor enim januam servavit ut ' fati corpus in crypto in sarcophago ' ipse arcuatam testudinem coloribus ' servabatur, testudo ejusdem crypti ' vermicularet,' p. xiv. This quaint ' pingenda fuit. Interea revoluto anni description of the painter shutting ' circulo, solempnitas ipsius Sancti out the countless worshippers is cu- ' Patris Erkenwaldi illuxit. Nullus rious. 152 THE PYXIDES FOE OFFERINGS. CHAP, faithful. No wonder, for the very dust, mingled with r-^ ' water and drunk, wrought instantaneous cures. A citizen of London, Richard Preston, left his best jewel, a sapphire, to this shrine, there to remain for the curing infirmities of the eyes, and ordered proclamation to be made of its virtues. S. Erkenwald was in truth a second patron saint of the Cathedral. By order of Bishop Braybroke, the anniver- sary of S. Erkenwald was kept like the two great festi- vals of the Conversion and Commemoration of S. Paul, with the same long procession, and services of equal pomp and solemnity. On these three great days the whole clergy of the diocese were summoned to attend in their copes and most gorgeous attire. The reason assigned for this honour to the shrine of S. Erkenwald was the glitter of miracles which attested his virtues. 6 Before these shrines the greatest paid their devotions and made their oblations. King John of France, the captive of Poictiers, made his orisons in the Cathedral of the metropolis of England ; his offerings were those of a king, not of a prisoner. Twelve nobles at the Annunciation, twenty-six at the crucifix near the north door; as he approached to the high altar, he presented four basins of gold. He gave to the Dean five florin nobles, of which the petty canon officiating (John Lillington) had his share. What share we are not told. At the shrine of S. Erken- wald, twenty-two nobles. Near each crucifix and each altar was a strong iron pyx, or box, in which the oblations were deposited ; these boxes were opened only in the presence of the Dean, and one, at least, of the Residentiaries. To whom did these lavish offerings belong? It was on the authority of the Bishop, Richard de Belmeis, in * ' Cujus merita gloriosa in eadem ecclesia miraculose coruscant.' DIVISION OF OBLATIONS. 153 the earliest times, that the oblations on the high altar CHAP. VII were assigned to the Dean and Chapter. Later, however, ,_!_ when the Bishop claimed some share in these treasures, Archbishop Arundel awarded them to the Dean and Chapter. Of the amount our archives have preserved some curious but imperfect accounts ; 7 one giving the proceeds of the box under the great northern cross. 8 In one month, May 1344, it yielded no less than 501. besides broken money ; that was more than an average profit, but taken as an average it gives 6001. per annum. Multiply this by fifteen to bring it to the present value of money, 9,OOOL The oblations, by an order of the Papal Commissioners, were divided among the Dean and Residentiaries. This, it must be remembered, was but one, probably not the most profitable of these tributary treasuries. The images of the Virgin and of S. Erkenwald, as they commanded deeper and more general devotion, were no doubt even more rich in their proceeds. Part, no doubt, it may be hoped a large part, of these vast sums was expended on the repair and maintenance of the Cathedral, and on the splendour of the services. There is in Malcolm 9 a curious instrument of agreement between the Dean and Chapter and the builder, John de 7 See this account at full in the ' liberationem alicujus stagiarii prse- Appendix. ' sentis per indenturam, ut antiquitus 8 Compare note to Latin Chris- ' fuerat observatum. Et si omnes tianity, vol. ix. p, 24. ' stagiarii fuerint absentes tune sa- 9 ' Claves omnes pyxidum in quibus ' crista cum uno de cardinalibus, de ' reponuntur oblationes ubilibet ad ' choro amoto sigillo canonici, puchise ' ecclesiam S. Pauli pro novo opere ' (the purse or bag) pecuniae apposito, ' provenientes sint in thesaurario, ' pecuniam inclusam liberent custodi ' sub sigillo alicujus canonici stagiarii, ' et puchiam reconsignent.' Malcolm, ' prout antiquitus esse consueverunt. Londinium Redivivum, vol. iii. p. 66. ' Prseterea, de pixide quibuscunque The whole document is curious, ' praedictis recepta, statim in the- and contains strict provisions for the ' saurario in cista in qua antiquitus builder (or Clerk of the Works) keep- ' reponi consueverat, sub sigillo ali- ing his computits, which was to be ' cujus canonici stagiarii reponatur; submitted to the Dean and Residen- ' et custos novi operis septimatim, tiaries at the four great quarterly ' vel per quindenam, inde recipiat per Feasts. 154 RELIQUES. CHAP. Parteneye, wlio contracted for the New Work, the marble VII ._ ,.'_ pavement and other repairs, in the year 1312. It ap- pears that he was to receive certain payments from the Treasurer's Chest, in which were deposited the proceeds of the pyxides, at certain specified times. Part too, no doubt, of these devout offerings, we trust a large part, "Wandered, heaven directed, to the poor. But the Dean and Chapter were rigid and watchful in the assertion of their rights. It appears that the audacious vergers and bell-ringers of the Cathedral had the evil habit of appropriating to themselves the countless wax- lights and tapers, after they had burned long enough on the shrines and tombs. The Dean and Canons put an end to this godless profit of their servants, and ordered the extinguished lights to be carried to a room under the Chapter House, and there melted for the benefit of the Dean and Residentiaries. 1 EELIQUES. S. Paul's was not wanting in other objects of devout worship. Dugdale has preserved from older days two lists of the inestimable treasures of reliques, one drawn up by Dean Eadulph de Diceto, as belonging in his time to the church. The other is of a later period. Of the first list, the most remarkable are a knife of our Lord, 2 hair of S. Mary Magdalene, with bones and part of the dresses of saints and martyrs, and the dust of other reliques. But they advanced in wonder. In the second list is some of the blood of S. Paul, hair of the Blessed Virgin, the hand of S. John the Evangelist. Another reliquary contained the milk, the vest, and more hair of the Holy Virgin. An- other had pieces of the skull, and part of the dress, of S. Thomas of Canterbury. Another the head of S. Ethelbert, 1 Dugdale, p. 19. * Cultellus Domini. THE FABRIC. 155 King and Martyr. The whole body of S. Mellitus, of CHAP. which the Cathedral once boasted, seems to have dwindled ^~ down to his two arms, one large and one small. These reliques were encased in reliquaries of crystal, adorned with gold and silver work and precious stones, some of them, no doubt, of exquisite workmanship. The crystal vase which contained the milk of the Virgin was supported by two images of S. Peter and S. Paul, incensing the vase, and a certain angel. The base was of silver gilt, having on its three corners three lions, on the fourth, a dragon supporting the vase. 3 The jaw of S. Ethelbert, the Confessor and founder of the church of S. Paul's, was in a case, silver-gilt, adorned with three great precious stones, four of a moderate size, ten smaller, and above two round crystals ; but there were not more than four teeth in the jaw. The two lists fill above two folio pages and a half. No doubt the exhibition of these reliques was not unpro- ductive. THE FABRIC. The Cathedral of S. Paul stood in a spacious precinct, encircled by walls. The walls rose at different periods. 4 The first was built by Bishop Richard de Belmeis. The wall began at the north-er.st corner of Ave Maria Lane, ran eastward along Paternoster Row to the Old Exchange, Cheapside. Then across, south- wards, to Carter Lane, at the end of which it turned to the great gateway in Ludgate Street. This wall fell to decay. The churchyard became the resort of thieves and prostitutes, though it did not claim the privilege of sanc- tuary. In the reign of Edward IT., the Dean and Chapter, by license from the Crown, rebuilt and fortified the whole circuit of the wall. Within the wall, at the north-west corner, stood the Bishop's Palace, beyond which, eastward, 8 Dugdale, pp. 337, 338. 4 See above, p. 22. 156 THE FABRIC. CHAP, was Pardon Churchyard, in which Gilbert Becket, Sheriff . T .'_. of London in the time of King Stephen, had built a chapel. This chapel was rebuilt in the reign of Henry V. by Thomas Moore, Dean of S. Paul's, with a stately cloister around it. On the walls of this cloister (destroyed by the Protector Somerset) was the ( Dance of Death,' so common in many mediseval buildings. The cloister was crowded with fine monuments, and above was a library founded by Walter Sherington, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. In a kind of square, east of the cloister, stood the College of Minor Canons, abutting on Canon Alley, which formed its eastern boundary, where stood a chapel, also founded by Walter Sherington, called the Charnel, from whence, when Somerset plundered the cloister, were removed cartloads of human bones to Finsbury Fields. East of Canon Alley stood Paul's Cross not only the great pulpit, in which so many famous sermons were preached, but, in older times, the place of the folksmote of the citizens of London. 5 To this part of the precincts, at least, the citizens of London claimed free access. On the east stood S. Paul's Schools and a belfry tower, in which hung the famous Jesus bells, won at dice by Sir Giles Partridge from Henry VIII. On the south side was the spacious garden of the Dean and Chapter, where formerly stood the buildings of the college, dormitory, refectory, kitchen, bakehouse, brewery. These, it should seem, gave place to another handsome cloister, on which stood, abutting on the south aisle of the Church, the Chapter House and the Church of S. Gregory. Westward were the houses of the Eesi- dentiaries, and the Deanery on its present site. The citizens of London not only held their peaceful assemblies * There was a suit against the Dean claimed by the City of London for and Chapter of S. Paul's for encroach- their folksmote. Liber Custumartim, ment (Purprestura) on the space p. 338. 14 Edw. II. GATES OF THE PRECINCTS. 157 at the foot of S. Paul's Cross, 6 but when the standard of CHAP. VII the City was raised in the area before the west front, the , Militia arrayed itself under the civic banner. In the wall were six gates, the principal and central one in Ludgate Street. 7 The second in Paul's Alley, leading to Paternoster Row, from the postern gate of the Cathedral. One in Canon Alley, leading to the north door of the Cathedral. The fourth was the ' little ' gate, leading to Cheapside. The fifth (S. Augustine's Gate), leading by that church to Watling Street. The sixth, opposite to the south entrance of the church by Paul's Chain. There was a ponderous chain across this passage to the entrance. By the west front were two towers. Lambeth did not alone enjoy the privilege of imprisoning heretics within its own precincts. ' At either corner of this west end of ' S. Paul's,' writes Stowe, * is also, of ancient building, two ' strong towers of stone, made for bell-towers, the one of ( them, to wit, next to the palace, is at the present, to the ' use of the same palace. The other, towards the south, * is called the Lollards' Tower, and hath been used as the ' Bishop's Prison for such as were detected for opinions ' contrary to the faith of the Church.' 8 Of the ancient Anglo-Saxon Cathedral there remains neither description nor vestige. If not entirely destroyed by the fire in the reign of the Conqueror, what remained was removed to make room for the new fabric commenced by Bishop Maurice, and continued (it can hardly be said completed) under his successors. For in the mediaeval times, almost every cathedral was constantly undergoing enlargement, extension, change in its construction or in its details (more especially in its decorations), and was surrounded by more ample and various buildings and 6 See Liber albus, passim. * Stowe, Survey of London, p. 372, 7 Compare Stowe and Maitland's edit. 1609. London, vol. ii. p. 72. 158 NOEMAN FABKIC. cloisters, according to the opulence and munificence of suc- cessive generations, of Bishops, Chapters, or the Faithful. Bishop Maurice, no doubt, began with the lofty ponderous pillars and round heavy arches of the great Norman nave. In its form, in its height, in the narrow windows of the clerestory, and those of the side aisles scarcely wider, it resembled, doubtless, the contemporary churches built on the Continent by the Conqueror, or in his days the Abbey aux Homines and the Abbey aux Dames at Caen, and others of that style. The original design seems to have contemplated the nave and parallel aisles, sli allow transepts, and a still shallower apse, in the old Basilican form of the presbytery, with no choir, or, at least, one of no depth and of insignificant dimensions. The admiration excited by this building, according to Malmesbury, as before noted, 9 ' was no doubt heightened, if not created, by the contrast with the humbler Anglo- Saxon churches, so also from its construction of more durable materials. It is acknowledged that, during the twenty years of the episcopate of Maurice subsequent to the fire, the Cathedral had made no great progress. The prodigal munificence of his successor, Richard de Belmeis, seems chiefly to have been devoted to the enlargement of the close and area of the Cathedral, in removing low and mean hovels, and securing the ecclesiastical buildings by a strong and lofty wall. The fabric itself advanced so slowly, that Bishop Richard began to despair, and devoted his wealth to other pious purposes. The Cathedral rose slowly on its original plan, though damaged by another fire in the time of King Stephen, under succeeding Bishops, of whom Gilbert Foliot seems to have been the most zealous and active. 1 But during the reign of the Plantagenets, a change had See above, p. 22. ' See above, p. 55. THE CHOIK. 159 come over church, architecture. At the commencement of CHAP. VII. Henry III.'s reign, the pointed early English Gothic had r fully developed itself. As yet there was no central tower in S. Paul's, and the Cathedral seemed as it were ashamed of its shallow apse, and demanded, for the pomp of its ser- vices, its processions, and the installation and insula- tion of the Clergy, a deeper and more richly ornamented choir. This was accomplished during the episcopate of Roger Niger, and so important was the enlargement of the Cathedral (the New Work, as it was called), that in the year 1240 a second Dedication took place. It was a splen- did ceremony: the Legate of the Pope, the Cardinal Otho, Edinond (Rich) Archbishop of Canterbury, six other Bishops, the King himself, and all his Court, attended in full state, in honour of Roger Niger and his Church. The Cathedral had expanded from the dark and ponderous nave into a gorgeous pointed choir, and from the centre, where the nave and choir met, had begun to arise a lofty tower. But the dedication was not all that was done in honour of the Bishop and his noble building. Now began, or rather was opened out in prodigal munificence, a new and unfailing source for the completion, maintenance, adorn- ment of the fabric. The cathedral of the metropolis was no longer to depend on the episcopal revenues. Of those of the Dean and Chapter, as contributing to the fabric, we find nothing. Not only the city of London, the whole realm, even foreign countries, were laid under tri- bute to the great national work a work in which all churches in England, indeed in Christendom, were to take pride and interest. That fruitful source, the sins of man- kind, and the commutation of the days, years, centuries of penance established by the Church for the remission of those sins, by alms and contributions, was to pour out 160 FOKEIGN INDULGENCES. CHAP, in its inexhaustible fulness on the Church of S. Paul. In VII. f -^' London, an indulgence of forty days, for all sins duly confessed and repented of, was granted on liberal terms ; and this indulgence was to be renewed every year on the anniversary of the dedication. The sins of the citizens of London must have been surprisingly light, the penances surprisingly easy, or their faith surprisingly weak, if from this time the Cathedral was wanting in ample and copious support. But neither were the citizens of London the only class expected to defray the cost of their noble edifice, nor was that the first or the last occasion on which S. Paul's levied its voluntary tax on the sins and penitence of good Chris- tians. There was as yet neither fear, doubt, nor scruple as to the value of Indulgences. The effects of building S. Peter's at Rome by the unlimited issue of indulgences was far off in the unpenetrated darkness of futurity. The archives of S. Paul's still contain copies of indulgences, issued from the year 1261 to 1387, near two centuries, unfortunately not their proceeds. They extend to almost every diocese in England and Wales, commencing with Bangor. The second in the series is granted by Hugh Foliot, then Bishop of Hereford. The third is from the Archbishop of Canterbury. The diocese of Canterbury contributed three times ; York and the northern provinces only once. Of all the English dioceses Norwich was the most liberal it contributed seven times. Salisbury, Ely, and Hereford, five ; Winchester, three times only. Ireland answered freely to the appeal. Seven dioceses appear Emly and Leighlin twice. There is a solitary contribution from Scotland, from Brechin. One of those from Canter- bury was granted in 1253 by Archbishop Boniface. Boni- face owed something to the Bishop and the Dean and Chapter for his acts of unseemly violence. It is strange however, that, two years later, Bishop Fulk Basset appeals INDULGENCES. 161 to the generosity of the faithful, on the plea of rain CHAP. threatening the building from age and violent tempests. __,__ Indulgences were not confined to our islands, or to English authorities. Cardinal Otho, in 1260, grants forty days' indulgence to all the faithful of the province of Canter- bury who will devoutly visit the Church of S. Paul. ' He ' who sows sparingly, shall reap sparingly ; he who sows ' plenteously, plenteously, and shall reap eternal life.' In 1235 the Archbishop of Cologne, being in England, is so impressed by the majesty of the church, as to grant an in- dulgence of fifty days to all who will contribute to that church. The Cardinal Siran de Sully, Archbishop of Bourges, is even more munificent, and grants an indul- gence of one hundred days. The general term of indul- gence ranged from forty days, the usual number, down to twenty. In some few, the particular part of the Cathedral to be repaired or adorned is specified as the Chapel of the Virgin, the Bell Tower, the sustentation of lights at certain altars. Two of the later indulgences are for Paul's Cross. Indulgences sometimes demanded special prayers for the souls of certain persons named ; that from Brechin is curious as enjoining devotion at the altar of S. Edmond, martyr and confessor, and that of K. Edward in the Church of S. Paul, 2 and to pray for the soul of Isabella Bruce. These alms were to go to the fabric. It would be of great interest, but I fear impossible, to ascertain the produce of these different indulgences. 3 In the year 1315, during the reign of Edward II. and the episcopate of Gilbert de Segrave, the fabric of S. Paul's was declared complete. The dimensions of the building are given in more than one account, in some degree dif- 2 Was this some confusion for the tomb Simpson, our excellent librarian and of Ed ward the Confessor in the Abbey? arranger of our Archives. Dugdale s Many of these particulars I owe is full, but somewhat loose in his to the researches of the Eev. Sparrow statements. M 162 THE SPIEE. CHAP, fering. 4 The extreme length was 690 feet (according to _I^_ Stowe, 720). Did this include the Lady Chapel? The width 130 feet. The nave was in height from the base- ment to the roof 102 feet; that of the new work, ihe 1 choir, 88 feet. The tower was 270 feet; the spire 274, surmounted by a cross of 15 feet. Stowe gives the nave 150 feet, probably reaching to the ridge of the roof. The tower and spire 260 feet each. On the dedication of the spire by the Bishop (Segrave) there was a solemn procession. Many relics of saints were deposited as though to protect the Tower and the whole fabric, by the glorious merits of those Saints, from all danger of tempests. Their protection was not very efficacious ; early in 1359, the Ball and Cross needed repair, and the relics were replaced with great pomp by the Bishop, Bray- broke, 5 and the Dean, Gilbert de Bruer. In the interval, in the year 1341, the roof had been struck by lightning, and was not fully repaired till 1362. In 1444, the spire was again struck by lightning, repaired by Bishop Kemp, and surmounted with a great weathercock of copper gilt, which seems to have been a novel invention. It was 4 feet long, 3^ wide, and weighed 40 pounds. The splendour of the interior of the church was cen- tred on the high altar. The pavement, indeed, was of* good and fine marble.. 6 The high altar was of great mag- nificence. In 1309 a pious citizen, Richard Pikerell, gave 4 According to Dugdale, the height on a certain tablet on the north side of of the steeple tower, from the level the choir, in large characters. p. 11. ground, was 260 feet, the spire (of This must have been before the great wood, covered with lead) 274 feet, and weathercock was set up. yet the whole exceeded not 520 feet. * By the favour of which Bishop The ball at the head of the spire, there was then granted an indulgence being so large as to contain within it of one hundred and fifty days' pardon, ten bushels of corn. The length of annually, to extend for the space of tne cross above the said ball was twenty-seven years. Dugdale, p 11. 15 fee.t, of the transverse 6 feet. 6 Which cost 5s. a foot. Dugdale, These measurements were recorded p. '1 3. PAUL'S CEOSS. 163 a beautiful tablet, variously adorned with many precious CHAP, stones and enamel work, as also with divers images of ^__ t __ metal ; which tablet stood between two columns, with a frame of wood to cover it, richly set out with curious pic- tures, the charge whereof amounted to cc. marks. 7 There was a picture too of S. Paul, in a beautiful tabernacle of wood, on the right hand of the high altar. The price of the workmanship, 12Z. 16s. 8 The Chapter House stood in the centre of a fine cloister on the south side of the church, an octagon, witji large buttresses adorned with pinnacles lessening in height. Eacji front had a painted window. 9 Paul's Cross stood, as has been said, at the north-east corner of the Cathedral. It was originally perhaps, like other crosses, set up at the entrance of the churchyard, to remind the passers-by to pray for the dead interred in the cemetery. At an early period a pulpit was erected of wood on a stone base, with a canopy of lead. The old cross and pulpit were supplanted by a more splendid stone cross with a pulpit, erected by John Kemp, and consecrated by the Bishop of London. It became one of the buildings of which, from its grace and beauty, the city of London was most proud. Paul's Cross was the pulpit not only of the Cathedral ; it might almost be said, as preaching became more popular, and began more and more to rule the public mind, to have become that of the Church of England. The most dis- tinguished ecclesiastics, especially from the Universities, were summoned to preach before the Court (for the Court sometimes attended) and the city of London. Nobles vied with each other in giving hospitality to those strangers. The Mayor and Aldermen (this was at a later period) were 7 We should be curious to know 8 Diigdale, p. 14. from what artist's hands were the a It may be seen in Hollar's print pictures. in Dugdale. M 2 164 PUBLICATIONS AT PAUL'S CEOSS. CHAP, required to provide ' sweet and convenient lodgings for ,-! i them, with fire, candles, and all other necessaries.' Ex- cepting the King and his retinue, who had a covered gallery, the congregation, even the Mayor and Aldermen, stood in the open air. When the weather was very wet and bois- terous, the sermon was delivered in a place called ' the 6 Shrouds.' According to some accounts the Shrouds were in the triforium of the church, but to this the ascent must have been difficult and inconvenient for a large assemblage of hearers, and the extent of accommodation so small and narrow, that it is difficult to understand such an arrangement. There is some ground for supposing that the ' Shrouds' were the underground church of S. Faith, which is called in some old records S. Faith in the Shrouds. We can hardly conceive that any overhanging parts of the cathedral walls even then afforded sufficient protection from driving weather. Paul's Cross was not only the great scene for the dis- play of eloquence by distinguished preachers ; it was that of many public acts, some relating to ecclesiastical affairs, some of mingled cast, some simply political. Here Papal Bulls were promulgated ; here excommunications were thundered out ; here sinners of high position did penance ; here heretics knelt and read their recantations, or, if ob- stinate, were marched off to Smithfield. Paul's Cross was never darkened by the smoke of human sacrifice. Here miserable men, and women suspected of witchcraft, con- fessed their wicked dealings ; here, as we shall see here- after, great impostures were exposed, and strange frauds unveiled in the face of day. Here too occasionally Royal Edicts were published ; here addresses were made on matters of state to the throng- ing multitudes supposed to represent the metropolis ; here kings were proclaimed, probably traitors denounced. Of CITY PKOCESSIONS. 165 all these scenes, our annals have already recorded some, CHAP. and they have many more to record. v ,_!_ To the Cathedral of S. Paul, as the religious capitol of the city, the Chief Magistrates, the Mayor and Aldermen with their liveries, the Sheriffs, the Guilds or Companies, on certain high festivals went in solemn procession : on All Saints' Day, Christmas Day, S. Stephen, and S. John the Evangelist; so also on the Circumcision, Epiphany, and the Purification of the B. Virgin. On those days the dignitaries visited first the Church of S. Thomas Aeon (Becket), and thence to vespers at the Cathedral. On Innocents' Day, and the day following, they went only to S. Thomas Aeon. 1 But why S. Thomas of Aeon, or of Acre ? This title Becket manifestly bore long before the ballad legend of the Saracen Princess of Acre his mother, utterly unknown to all his earlier and contemporary bio- graphers, and which first oozes out in a later chronicler, Henry of Huntingdon. Two causes are alleged, by no means inconsistent with each other, one, curiously connec- ted with S. Paul's. William, an Englishman, chaplain to Dean Radulph de Diceto (this is related by Diceto himself) 2 in the Holy Land, made a vow, that if he could only enter Acre, under siege, he would found a chapel to S. Thomas the Martyr. S. Thomas was at the height of his popular saintship, though not yet canonised. We have seen Di- ceto's careful reverence for Becket. William entered Acre, fulfilled his vow, founded a chapel, and obtained ground for a churchyard. He became himself Prior of the foundation, and devoted himself to the burial of Pilgrims who died, or were cut off by the hand of the Infidel, in the Christian cemetery. The second cause was this : Among the military orders in the Holy Land was one founded by Richard, 1 Liber Albus, pp. 6, 7. 2 Flores Historiarum, quoted by Newcourt. 166 CHUKCH OF S. THOMAS AGON. CHAP, after the capture of Acre (Ptolemais) in dutiful expiation, c no doubt, for the sins of his father, in honour of, and called by the name of, S. Thomas the Martyr. 3 There is no direct connection between these foundations and the church of S. Thomas of Aeon in London. But there is no doubt that the church of S. Thomas Aeon was built on the estate of Gilbert Becket, the father of S. Thomas, on the spot where the Martyr was believed to have been born. Twenty years after the Archbishop's murder, Agnes his ' sister, who was married to Thomas Fitz Theobold de 1 Helles,in conjunction with her husband, built a chapel and ( an hospital, " on the rule of S. Austyn," on the spot * where her brother was born ; and such was the respect for ' his sanctity, that, without waiting for his canonisation, ' the foundation was dedicated to the worship of God ' Almighty and the Blessed Virgin Mary, and of the said * glorious Martyr.' De Helles and his wife gave to the Master and Brethren e alle the lande with the appurten- ' ances that sometime was Gilbert Becket's, father of the 4 said Thomas the Marter.' The ancient Company of the Mercers were constituted the patrons of this foundation. On the suppression of the Monasteries, King Henry VIII. granted for a certain sum the church and the college of S. Thomas Aeon to the Mercers ; and the chapel of the Company stood on the site. The whole estate passed into the hands of that company, and upon it stands their hall. 4 On Whitsunday, the Mayor and City Dignitaries met at S. Peter's, Cornhill. This seems to have been the most splendid procession. The Mayor, Recorder, Aldermen, every one with his Livery (each of whom, according to his rank, received on that day gifts of robes and vestments of honour), the Sheriffs, and the great City Companies, pre- 8 Theatre of Honour, quoted by 4 See Herbert's History of the Twelve Nowcourt. great Livery Companies, vol. i. p. 261. LOKD MAYOR'S DAY. 167 ceded by the Rectors of the London parishes, marched CHAP, along Cheapside to the north-east corner of the church- r yard. There they were met by the procession of the Cathedral Clergy, along the south side of the church- yard, through the close of Watling Street round to the great West door. There they stopped, while the hymn ' Yeni Creator' was sung antiphonally by the Vicars-choral with the organ, and with the incense-bearers incensing as they went on. 5 The Mayor and Aldermen then advanced to the high altar and made their offering. That ceremony was repeated on Whit Tuesday, only that they met and set forth from S. Bartholomew's. Two nobles were given by the Archdeacon of London to the club-men (city police), to keep off the pressure of the mob from the Eectors. On the day of his solemn inauguration, the new Lord Mayor could not but hallow his dignity by solemn attend- ance at the Cathedral. After dinner (the oaths had been taken before) the Mayor and Aldermen, who all had splendid accoutrements, set forth to S. Thomas Aeon, thence to S. Paul's. At S. Paul's they first paid their reverence to the tomb of Bishop William the Norman, thence to the churchyard, where rested the remains of Gilbert Becket, the father of S. Thomas, and his family. 6 This was especially called a scarlet day ; but the City pro- cessions were not, it should seem, always clad in bright scarlet. On one day it was agreed, for the dignity of the City, that they should be arrayed in cloaks of green lined with green taffetta, or tartayn, under a penalty. One un- fortunate or refractory Alderman, John Sely of Walbrook, appeared in a cloak without a lining. Whereupon the penalty was relentlessly inflicted, that the Mayor and other Aldermen should dine with the said John in his * ' Thurificante angelo.' Liber Albus, p. 23. ' Servientibus ad clavos.' 168 GILBERT BECKET. CHAP, house, and that at the proper cost of the said John, on the ^- Thursday following. 7 There can be no doubt that Gilbert Becket was a citizen of London, and that S. Thomas was born in London ; nor is there any reason to doubt that Gilbert was buried in the churchyard of S. Paul's. We may con- ceive how the popular ballad sprung out of all these popular shows. So, notwithstanding the crowding churches which arose in every part of the metropolis, notwithstanding the dense forest of towers and spires, reflected on the Thames, the homage, the pride, the religion of the citizens was centred on the Cathedral. All acknowledged its supre- macy, all held themselves tributary to, all were eager to offer their oblations, all reposed under the tutelary sanctity of the great Temple of S. Paul's. It was the Church of the City. It was overlooked, and was looked up to by wondering and worshipping London. The citizens of London asserted that S.' Paul's originally was, might be again, and ought to be the Metropolitan Church of England. The fame of S. Thomas, who, though born in London, was martyred in Canterbury, might maintain the primacy for that church in perpetuity : much however might be alleged in favour of London. London had thirteen large conventual, one hundred and six smaller, parish churches. 8 7 Memorials of London, p. 466. 8 Liber Custumarum, p. 2. APPROACH OF THE REFORMATION. 169 CHAPTEE YIII. S. PAUL'S, APPROACH OP THE REFORMATION". BEFORE and during the Reformation the Cathedral of the CHAP. VIII. metropolis conld not but be the battlefield throughout , the long and obstinate strife. If the more learned con- troversial warfare was waged in the pulpits of the Univer- sities and before the Court, Paul's Cross was the scene of the more popular and fiercer conflict, and appears to have been open at the same time (at least during a certain period) to the combatants of both parties, or alternately, as each gained predominant influence. Latimer was one day thundering against the abuses of the Church; on another Friar Forest was arraigning the King's minis- ters, and more than covertly glancing at the King him- self. In truth, the sermons at Paul's Cross, if they could be recovered and arranged, would be a living and instruc- tive chronicle of the Reformation, from the first murmur about the King's divorce, the almost unanimous rejection of the Papal supremacy, the enactment of the Six Articles, the stern reassertion of all the Roman doctrines except obedience to the Pope, the rapid progress of the new opinions, even to the iconoclasm under the Protectorate and the reign of Edward VI., the terrible days of Queen Mary, the reorganisation and final reestablishment of the Anglican doctrines under Elizabeth. Each phase is, as it were, typified by its Bishop of London. We have seen the hard and narrow-minded Fitz 170 BISHOPS OF LONDON. CHAP. James in collision with. Colet. The gentle Tunstall with- VIII. ,- - - drew to the more peaceful, or was honourably exiled to the more wealthy, Durham. In the more prominent station, his high and blameless character and quiet resolution (he had been counsel to Queen Katherine) might have stood in the way of the coming changes. Tunstall was suc- ceeded by the versatile Stokesley, equally ready to burn Protestants and to acquiesce in the King's supremacy. Then came Bonner, as long as Henry VIII. lived a strong antipapalist, yet Bonner, eager to execute the stern enactments and light the fires in obedience to the Six Articles. Then the kind and gentle Ridley, with his ten- dency to Puritanism imbibed during his exile in Ger- many. Then Bonner again, now a fierce Papalist, and earning that fatal alliterative epithet, which clings to his memory, and which even the most charitable historian cannot strip away or soften. He will still be the bloody Bonner. Then Grindal, bowing before, yet not without a Churchman's, or rather a Christian's, inclination, and more than inclination, to resist the imperious Tudor Queen. Before the Reformation, during the reign of Henry VII., S. Paul's had already witnessed the ill-fated marriage, the seed-plot of all the coming momentous events. On Sun- day, November 21, 1501, the wedding of Prince Arthur and the Princess Katherine of Spain was celebrated with the utmost splendour in the Cathedral. The Princess was received at the West door of the Cathedral by the Arch- bishop of Canterbury in full pontificals, the Bishops of Ely, Lincoln, Rochester, Llandaff, Bangor, the Abbots of Stratford, Bermondsey, Tower Hill, glittering in their gorgeous sacerdotal attire. She was led to the altar and made her offering. She was allowed a day's rest, after the fatigue of her journey, in the Bishop's Palace. The ladies and gentlemen who came out of Spain were lodged in the MARRIAGE OF PRINCE ARTHUR AND KATHERINE. 171 Dean's and Canons' houses. On the following afternoon CHAP. the Princess went in state, by Paul's Chain, to visit the . r -l_ Queen at Baynard's Castle. On the day of the marriage (which, by order, was to be on some Sunday or holiday), the attendance was commanded of the Bishops of Exeter, Hereford, Bath, Lincoln, Carlisle, Chester, Rochester, and Norwich, the Abbots of Bury, West- minster, S. Alban's, Glastonbury, Abingdon, and Eeading. The whole church was to be hung with arras. There was a platform of timber from the West door to the Choir twelve feet broad and four feet in height, ' like unto a * mountain,' writes the chronicler, with steps on every side. It was covered with red worsted (baize) . This ' hault- ' place was to be like unto the hault-place of the christen- * ing of the King's children.' The platform stood against the Consistory, to the intent that the King and Queen may secretly (through a door made for the occasion) go out of the Bishop's Palace into the same Consistory, and ' there to hear and see the ceremonies of the marriage at ' their pleasure.' The whole arrangements are laid down in the orders with singular minuteness. The Princess was received at the West door and conducted to the platform by my Lord of York. The ceremony was performed upon the platform. Afterwards they went to the altar to high mass. Retiring places on each side of the altar were de- signed for the Prince and Princess. All the day, at several places in the city, and at the West door of the Cathedral, the conduits ran with white wine and red. The wedded couple were lodged for some nights in the Bishop's Palace. 1 The third day after that, the Court returned by water to Westminster. 2 Six weeks had not passed when Arthur was in his grave, and the prudent King was already meditating 1 Dugdale (Ellis) and Malcolm mony. quote at length the orders of the King * Stowe's Chronicle, p. 482. Grey in Council, for the reception and cere- Friar's Chronicle, p. 27. 172 HENEY VIII. AT S. PAUL'S. CHAP, the marriage of the high-dowered widow with Prince . 1_- Henry. The ill-fated marriage of the Princess Margaret with the King of Scots was proclaimed at S. Paul's on the day of the great festival of the Conversion of S. Paul ; and on the second Sunday in Lent was Sir Edmond de la Pole accused openly, at Paul's Cross, with bell, book, and candle, at the sermon before noon ; and in Easter week deceased the Prince Arthur, who died at Ludlow. 3 Henry VII. died at Richmond (April 21, 1509). His body was brought over London Bridge, and lay in state in S. Paul's, thence to Windsor, to rest till his noble chapel at Westminster should be ready to receive its munificent founder. 4 After the battle of Floddon, 1513, the Pope, Leo X., gave orders that the body of James IV. should be buried in S. Paul's. The Pope's orders were not obeyed ; the body remained long unburied. The reason of this was, that James was under excommunication by the Pope for aiding that ' cursed France,' and could only be buried in consecrated ground by the Pope's permission. He was buried at last at Berwick. 5 During the episcopate of Bishop Fitzhugh (Colet was Dean) a ceremony took place in S. Paul's, the public ac- ceptance of the Sword and Cap of Maintenance sent by the Pope to Henry VIII., of which a singularly life-like description has just appeared from the despatches of the Venetian ambassador. ' On his entrance into London, pre- ' ceded by nobles with 400 horses, amid throngs of wonder- * ing citizens, and by the Florentine Protonotary, the Am- * bassador of the Pope, these insignia were borne aloft by 8 Grey Friar's Chronicle, p. 27. at Westminster. We possess, in a 4 The Dean and Chapter of S. splendid binding, the testament by Paul's were among the trustees for which we were created trustees. the rich endowment left by Henry * See Theiner, quoted by Burton, VII., for the celebration of perpetual History of Scotland, vol. iii. p. 246. masses for his soul in his chapel Venetian Despatches, vol. ii. p. 146. SWOED AND CAP OF MAINTENANCE. 173 * one of his attendants, the cap being on the point of the CHAP. ( sword, which was held upright. The weapon was long, r-1 ' with a gilded guard and scabbard, and the cap seemed ' to be of purple satin, resembling in shape the crown of * the caps worn by the Albanian light cavalry : it was a ' foot long, with a turned-up brim, covered with embroidery and pearls, with sundry small pendant tails of ermine. ' The King was in London, at the Bishop's Palace 4 adjoining S. Paul's Cathedral, the two buildings being ' separated by a small square (campiello) through which, ' on Sunday, May 21 (1514), a grand procession moved.' The Venetian Ambassador was invited, and, on arriving at the Bishop's Palace, found the King there, and also the nobility in their robes of state. Cordial greeting ' was given to Badoer at the head of the stairs by the * " Lords," who were as familiar with him as if he had * been an Englishman. When at length the King came ' forth, Badoer presented a letter he had just received from ' the State ; but his Majesty said, " Let us now go to the ' Holy Procession and Mass, after which we will dine and ' then confer together." So the march commenced ac- * cordingly. The position of the Episcopal Palace and the 1 Cathedral might be likened to that of S. Mark's Tower ' and Church, and on this occasion, either for greater * pomp or to avoid contact with the crowd by reason of ' the plague, his Majesty went that distance on horseback, ' riding a most beautiful palfrey " as black as velvet," the * nobility preceding him in pairs ; the Ambassador Badoer, ' as a mark of distinction, coming last of all, immediately * in advance of the King, arm in arm (a brazo) with the ' Lord High Admiral (Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey) * whose father, then Lord Treasurer, had recently been ' made a Duke. ' On arriving at the portal of S. Paul's the King dis- 174 PROCESSION ROUND THE CHURCH. CHAP. ' mounted and walked to the high altar, where the Papal , 1^ * envoy stood with the sword and cap. Advancing to ' meet his Majesty he exhibited his credentials, and then * delivered a brief oration in praise of him, which being ' ended, the King made a sign to a Priest, a doctor' (Tun- stall, he was not yet Bishop of London), 'to reply, as he ' did most excellently on the sudden, returning thanks to * the Pope. * The King next knelt at the high altar, and two noble- * men girded him with the sword ; and on his head they * placed the cap, which by reason of the length covered his * whole face.' Both sword and cap being emblematical, it was not intended that he should wear either one or the other ! ' The procession then commenced making the entire * circuit of the church. It was a fine sight to see the * King and the handsome nobility of England (e quelli * signori che sono belli homini) in most pompous array, * with their silk gowns of various sorts, lined with sables * and lynx's fur and egret's down. The last lining of zinete * was very expensive in England. Some of the nobles * wore gowns of another sort, the material resembling silk ' of two colours in chequers ; other gowns slashed in their * own fashion. All bore such massive gold chains that * some might have serVed for fetters for felons' ankles, and * sufficed for their safe custody, so heavy were they and of * such immense value. ' The King wore a gown of purple satin and gold in * chequers, and a jewelled collar worth a well of gold (val * un pozo d' oro), his cap being of purple velvet with two ' jewelled rosettes, and his doublet of gold brocade. * After the procession high mass commenced, and was ' performed with great pomp, with vocal and instrumental * music, which lasted until one p.m., when the King quitted * the church accompanied by all the nobility and the THE ETERNAL PEACE. 176 ' Venetian Ambassador, returning to the Palace in pairs CHAP. * as they came. The whole neighbourhood was crowded ^_ ,._!_ ' with spectators, estimated at 30,600, all anxious to see * the King, the sword, and the cap.' 6 The majestic figure of Wolsey passes, on more than one occasion, over the pavement of S. Paul's. We have seen him installed as Lord Cardinal at Westminster, and Dean Colet winding up his eloquent sermon with admonitions against pride. ' Last Sunday (Oct. 3, 1515) the Cardinal of York sung ' mass in S. Paul's Cathedral. The occasion was the pro- * clamation of the peace, " the eternal peace (it was declared) ' between the Kings of France and England, the Pope, the ' Emperor, and the King of Spain, and the betrothal of ( Mary, Princess of England, to the Dauphin of France." ' The large chapel and the choir were hung with gold bro- ' cade, wrought with the King's arms. Near the altar was ' a pew (camarella) formed of cloth of gold, for the King, ' and in front of it a small altar quite crowded with golden ' images one foot high, with a cross of pure gold to corre- * spond, all the rest of the ornaments being of silver gilt. ' At this altar two low masses were said before the King ' whilst high mass was being sung. ' On the other side of the high altar was a chair, raised ' six steps from the ground, surmounted by a canopy of ' stiff brocade hanging from the wall down to the chair, for ' the Cardinal of York. On the same side, further removed ' from the altar, was another chair, raised three steps, with * a similar canopy, for the Legate Campeggio. In the ' centre of the church a wooden platform was reared, reach- * ing well-nigh from the great gate to the choir. ' The King entered the Cathedral with the two Legates, ' all the ambassadors, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Calendar of State Papers from the vol. ii. p. 78. Compare Mr. Brown's Archives of Venice, by Rawdon Brown, Preface, p. xxiv. 176 THE ETERNAL PEACE. CHAP. ' about twelve Bishops, with some six Abbots, besides vm - ^ < Dukes, Marquises, and Earls. At the mass all the Bishops * and Abbots wore jewelled mitres, taking their places beside ' the legates ; the ambassadors with the other great laymen ' being on the King's side. His Majesty's upper garment 4 was a robe of crimson satin lined with brocade, and he ( had a tunic (saione) of purple velvet powdered with pre- ' cious stones, viz. a stone and a large pearl alternately, ' the stones being rubies, sapphires, turquoises, and dia- ' monds, all of the best water and sparkling. The King ' wore a collar thickly studded with the finest carbuncles f as large as walnuts. e Mass being ended, the Legates in their mitres went out ' of the choir, and from a scaffold simultaneously gave their 4 benediction to the people, and then returning to the altar 1 did the like again to the King and the others ; after 1 which Sir Richard Pace (not yet Dean of S. Paul's, though * the Deanery was vacant) made a good and sufficiently ' long oration, delivering it excellently : whereupon the ' King, together with the three French ambassadors, * namely the Admiral of France, the Bishop of Paris, and ' another, flanked by the two Legates, swore at the high * altar perpetual peace between the King of France and the * King of England, both the King and the Ambassadors ' taking the oath upon the Gospels, et hasto corpore 1 Christi.' 7 It was after high mass by Wolsey, in the King's Chapel, that the espousals were performed between the Lady Mary and Le Dauphin Fran9ois. The King, between the two Legates, signed the marriage certificate at the high altar. Four years later was another splendid ceremony at S. Paul's. ' On July 15, 1519, the Venetian Ambassadors 7 Venetian Despatches, vol. ii. p. 464- this scene, less full, from the Venetian 5, fol. 9, 1519. From the Mantuan AT- Ambassador. Then follows a long ac- chives. There is another description of count of the splendid banquetings. CONDEMNATION OF LUTHEE IN S. PAUL'S. 177 1 were invited to attend the ceremony of the Proclamation CHAP. VIII ( of the Emperor (Charles V.) in S. Paul's Cathedral. f -L ' They were taken to the appointed places by two knights ' of the King's Chamber, and found there Cardinals Wolsey ' and Campeggio, the Ambassador of the Catholic King, ' and all the chief lords of his kingdom. * The French Ambassador refused to attend, saying he ' had received no announcement of the election from his ' Sovereign.' (Happy omen of the perpetual peace sworn a few years before !) ' When all were assembled in the church Te Deum ' was chanted, and Cardinal Wolsey gave the benediction. ' Then the unanimous election of the Catholic King, as ' King of the Romans, was proclaimed by two heralds.' 8 The Pope's sentence against Martin Luther was pub- lished in London, May 12, 1521. The Lord Thomas Wolsey, by the Grace of God Legate de Latere, Cardinal of S. Cecilia and Archbishop of York, came unto S. Paul's Church, with the most part of the Bishops of the realm, where he was received with procession, and censed by Mr. Eichard Pace, the Dean of that church. He was con- ducted to the high altar by four Doctors holding a canopy over him, and there made his oblation. He proceeded under his cloth of state, and took his seat on a scaffold near Paul's Cross, with his two crosses ; on either side, the Pope's Ambassador, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Imperial Ambassador: the Bishop of Durham sate below with other Prelates. Fisher, Bishop of Eochester, preached by the Pope's command against one Martinus Eleutherius and his works, because ' he erred sore and spoke against * the holy faith,' and denounced them accursed which kept any of his books ; and there ' were many burned in the ' said churchyard of the said books during the sermon.' 8 Venetian Despatches, vol. ii. p. 543. H 178 CONVOCATION. CHAP. After that the Lord Cardinal went home to dinner with J3L- aU the other Prelates. 9 The Simancas Despatches, on the visit of the Emperor Charles V. to England, give the following notice, with the curious interlineation : On the 9th June, 1522 (which was Whitsunday), the Emperor Charles V. went to the principal church of London, i where the Pope (which is the Cardinal) ' said mass. He was censed by more than twenty mitred ' Prelates from the one and the other courts. The festi- vities were splendid, and some persons wore extraordinary 1 rich clothes.' Dean Colet was dead. Did his admoni- tions recur to the Cardinal ? Wolsey, as Papal Legate, deprived S. Paul's of a privi- lege and distinction no doubt highly estimated in those days. Up to this time the Convocation of the Province of Canterbury had held its sittings and transacted its affairs in the Cathedral or Chapter House of S. Paul's. As Arch- bishop of York, Wolsey summoned the Northern Convoca- tion, as Legate the Southern, to meet together in his pre- sence, near his residence at York House, Whitehall. They met, by permission of the Abbot of Westminster (he had no doubt yielded to the all powerful Legate), in the Jerusalem Chamber. This was held by some no less than a robbery of S. Paul's. The audacious satirist, Skelton, who from his sanctuary at Westminster poured forth his bold scurri- lities against Wolsey, recorded the act in the well-known lines: Gentle Paul, lay down thy sword, For Peter of Westminster hath shaved thy beard. Since that time, no doubt from convenience and so long as the Convocation exercised legislative powers, and taxed the Clergy, and sate as a branch of the Parliament of England, it was a matter of much convenience the prac- 9 Vide MS. Vitellius. Malcolm, vol. iii. p. 176. DEAN KICHAKD PACE. 179 tice has continued. The Convocation meets at S. Paul's, CHAP. the Latin sermon is preached, the Prolocutor of the Lower ,-i - House is chosen at S. Paul's, and then Convocation ad- journs for the despatch of business to Westminster. S. Paul's acquiesces, with more than submission, in the loss of her ancient dignity. 1 The news of the battle of Pavia and the captivity of A.D. 1523. Francis I. was celebrated by great rejoicings at the West door of S. Paul's. 2 On the Sunday after, the King, the Queen, the Princess, and both Houses of Parliament attended at a solemn Te Deum in the Cathedral. On S. Matthew's Day there was a great procession of all the religious orders through the city. Wolsey with his Bishops sang the Te Deuni at the high altar. Two years after there was another solemn procession of 1527, Wolsey and the Bishops. It was after the sack of Rome and the captivity of the Pope. Was it to rejoice, or to lament, over those terrible events ? 3 We pass to the Dean of S. Paul's, the successor of John Colet, who is singularly connected with the great name of Wolsey. Richard Pace maintained the high character of Dean of S. Paul's with very different qualifications and a very different fate from John Colet. The authority of Erasmus avouches the accomplished scholarship of Pace, which did honour to his education at Padua and Oxford. But Pace was one of those ecclesiastics whom Colet in his famous sermon would have excluded from such an office as Dean of S. Paul's. He was devoted to state Compare Stanley's Memorials of to the Lord Mayor, that there should Westminster, p. 462. 2 Feb. 23,1225. Grey Friar's Chron- icle, p. 27. ' Tydinges was browte him ' (the Kynge) that the French Kynge ' was taken by the Duke of Burgone. be a great bonfyre at Powle's Church door, and there to be set a hoggys head of rede and another of claret for the people to drink that wolde for the good tydinges.' ' Also there was gevyn commandement * Grey Friar's Chronicle, p. 32. N 2 180 CHAKACTER OF PACE. CHAP, affairs, and in those unecclesiastical employments he had ^ Vln ' - attained the highest distinction. He was ambassador, 4.D. 1519. - n a g? a i rs O f the firg-t importance, to the Emperor Maxi- milian, to the Eepublic of Venice, to the Swiss Re- public, and to the Pope. His published despatches show a man of singular ability and sagacity. Those which remain in secret archives raise him still higher. t Pace is ' described by all the Imperial ambassadors as the most 1 able and best informed of English diplomatists. Such ' disparaging expressions as they so frequently indulge ' in, when speaking of the other agents of the English ' government in Italy, were never made use of in con- 1 nection with his name. Moreover, Pace possessed one * of the most necessary qualifications for a good diploma- ' tist. He was of an amiable temper, and succeeded in ' being on friendly terms with those whom he opposed.' Mr. Bergenroth adds, with a simplicity which shows his intimate familiarity with the way by which such business was carried on, and as attaching no special blame to Pace, ' He was in the pay of the Emperor, and it was believed ' that he received also a pension of 1,000 ducats from ' Venice. He acted nevertheless, on the whole, in an ' upright way.' 4 Mr. Brewer, who justly, I think, repudiates this impu- tation upon Pace as founded on a false interpretation of the authorities, is perfectly agreed with Mr. Bergenroth on the character of Pace. f Pace, the King's secretary, ' always at court, a pleasant and versatile companion, a wit, ' a scholar, a traveller of no small observation and influ- * ence, was acquainted with all the distinguished men and * potentates of the times, as he had visited every scene of the 4 Bergenroth, preface to the last p. 56. The Venetian Ambassador, published Calendar of the Simancas Giustiniani, describes Pace and More Papers. The volume contains much as the most sage, most virtuous, and curious information on the negotiations most linked with him of any in Eng of Pace. Compare Brewer's preface, land. CHARACTER OF PACE. 181 ' drama on which the attention of the world was just then CHAP. VIII. ' fixed. By the brilliancy and charms of his conversation, , - ' qualities reflected in his correspondence, he had made his ' society agreeable to More and to Erasmus. He was, ' besides, a man " of the new learning," not so strict or so ' rigid as the greyheaded ecclesiastics whose rank or ofiice ' held them about the Court. Was it surprising that he ' should have risen rapidly into favour ; that he should ' have been suspected, though vaguely, of treading too ' closely on the heels of the great minister.' 5 These suspicions have become part of our historical creed. According to Shakspeare, and Shakspeare's authorities, Wolsey was jealous of Pace, who was of such high ability, as not unlikely to supplant him in the royal favour. Campehis. . My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace In this man's place (Gardiner's) before him ? Wolsey. Yes, he was. Campeius. Was he not held a learned man ? Wolsey. Yes, surely ! Campeius. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then Even of yourself, Lord Cardinal. Wolsey. How ! of me ? Campeius. They will not stick to say you envied him ; And. fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, Kept him a foreign man still, which so grieved him That he ran mad, and died. Wolsey. Heaven's peace be with him ! That's Christian care enough : for living murmurers There's places of rebuke. He was a fool ; For he would needs be virtuous. Henry VIII. ii. 2. But Shakspeare, who has been so nobly impartial to Wolsey, in the honest ' chronicle of Griffith,' has here, following Holinshed, been unjust to the Cardinal. The high character and sad end of Pace, as well as his relation 5 Brewer, Preface to vol. iii. Letters and Papers, p. xiv. 182 CARDINAL BAINBRIDGE. CHAP, to Wolsey, demand more full investigation, for which - , - letters and documents recently published furnish ample and very curious authority. The first public appearance of Bichard Pace is in the train of Cardinal Bainbridge, 6 King Henry's representative at Rome (A.D. 1514). Car- dinal Bainbridge was undoubtedly poisoned, and by the agency of De Giglis, an Italian, Bishop of Worcester. That Pace fully believed De Giglis guilty of the mur- der, his letters clearly show ; but a Bishop with so much money at his command as De Giglis could not be convicted of any crime, certainly not of one so atrocious, at Eome. 7 It is curious (though of course Wolsey can- not himself have had any concern in the affair, that the death of Bainbridge opened the way to Wolsey's advancement. He became Archbishop of York (Bain- bridge's see) a year after he was the English Cardinal. This is an instance in which suspicious circumstances do not justify suspicion. It is extraordinary that De Giglis remained representative of England at Rome. There is a letter from Wolsey to De Giglis, describing the reception of Cardinal Campeggio in London. During the oration made to Cardinal Campeggio at the Cross in Chepe (Paul's Cross), the guilds of the merchants and trades were pre- sent ; and the procession went on to S. Paul's cathedral, where he was received with incessant prayers and extreme devotion by the Bishop of London, with many other Bishops, Abbots, and Priors, in pontifical array. Had the Pope come in person he could scarcely have been welcomed with more magnificent poinp. 8 Pace was engaged in expediting the bulls of the new 4 On the death of Bainbridge, the in the first and second volumes of English Cardinal, and his wealth, Mr. Brewer's Calendar, one in Ellis, Rawdon Brown, Venetian Despatches, vol. i. p. 108. vol. ii. p. 180. R. Brown, Letter dated Aug. 18, * There are at least fourteen letters 1518, vol. ii. p. 585. PACE, DEAN OF S. PAUL'S. 183 Cardinal, Wolsey, at Rome. On his return to England CHAP. from Eome (A.D. 1515), Pace, it should seem, was ap- - r _l_ pointed secretary to Wolsey. 9 He was sent, in the same year, on an important mission to Switzerland, to detach the Swiss from the French alliance, with Sir Robert Wing- field (who became jealous of him). After June, 1516, he was, though still abroad, one of the King's secretaries. On his return to England, he was in constant attendance on the King from January, 1518, to May, 1519. About May he was sent on the hopeless mission (on the death of Max- imilian) of securing the Imperial crown for Henry of England against the two formidable rivals, Charles V. and Francis I. He returned in July, but had been attacked in Germany by a terrible fever which recurred in Novem- ber. Notwithstanding that, on October 25, 1519, he be- came Dean of S. Paul's, and was confirmed by the Bishop of London, November 7th. 1 In April, 1520, Pace received a pension of 10Z. yearly for a lecture in Greek, to be taught in the University of Cambridge. 2 In June, 1520, he was with the King at the field of the Cloth of Gold, and delivered a Latin sermon on the blessings of peace. 3 In this year he writes to Wolsey, as a friend, that he is ill, and almost out of his mind, from want of sleep and appetite. In the same year he writes many letters on the King's book against Luther. In December, 1521, Pace is sent to Eome by the King (in sending Pace the King ' sends his very heart '), to win the Papacy, on the death of Leo X., for Wolsey. His interest, as well as his fidelity, were the guarantees for the zealous discharge of these duties. It was thought that, if Wolsey became Pope, Pace would take the place of Wolsey in the King's Councils. But Spanish gold and Spanish intrigue were too rapid in their operation. Pace arrived too late. fl Brewer, vol. ii. p. 275. * Brewer, Preface, Ixvi. Read Mr. 1 Wharton, in vitd. Brewer's admirable description of this 2 Brewer, vol. iii. 1540. wonderful spectacle. 184 MALADY OF PACE. CHAP. Adrian VII. was Pope ; but it is clear that Wolsey neither _ . '^ had nor imagined any cause of dissatisfaction with Pace. In August, 1522, Pace was ordered from Eome to Venice ; Venice, then almost the centre of European politics, in which of all places was required an adroit, clear-sighted, popular ambassador. But the Papacy was again vacant (Adrian died September 14, 1523). Pace must return to Eome, but the chief care of Wolsey's interests was en- trusted to Clerk, Bishop of Bath. But Clerk and Pace were alike unequal to cope with the Italian interest, or the wiles of a De Medici. Clement VII. was Pope. But there is still no displeasure on the part of Wolsey ; benefices were accumulated on Pace, and Wolsey wrote to Pace to obtain an extension of his Legatine powers. About February 28, 1524, Pace returns home as far as Mechlin, and is then ordered to return to Italy and attach himself to Bourbon's army. During 1525 he is in Venice, to secure the wavering republic in the Imperial interests. He is busily employed in negotiating money for the Imperial army. 4 But the malady, which had affected him in Germany, returned. On Octo- ber, 1525, the Doge himself writes to England urging his recall. The return to his native land was the only hope of restoring his health. As yet there is no hint of the more fatal malady, which assailed his mind. But on August 21, 1526, coadjutors are appointed to administer the affairs of such Deaneries ' as Mr. Pace hath, S. Paul's, and Exeter. He took up, however, his residence at the Deanery of S. Paul's, from which he wrote letters. There seem to have been doubtful glimpses of recovery. In 1527, he removes to Sion, from whence he wrote letters to his foster-brother John Pace, which confute all notices of ill-usage by Wolsey. 5 4 There are letters from Pace an- tone, 1525. Ellis, vol. ii. series 1, nouncing the battle of Pavia, and the 303. imprisonment of Francis I. at Pizzighe- * Kymer, sir. 96. ILL-USAGE OF PACE. 185 But in 1528 there is a sad description of his state, in a CHAR letter from Skeffington, Bishop of Bangor, to Wolsey. -_ , '_ How he came under the charge of the Bishop of Bangor, appears not. 'The Bishop had called in physicians. 6 ' Yet very little remedy by their promise followeth or 1 none ; by reason whereof I think that he is incurable, * or else in them there is great default, or lack of cun- ' ning. For in his rage and distemperance, rending and ( tearing his clothes, no man can rule him, neither will ' keep him, nor serve him, as this bringer can show unto ( your Grace.' The Bishop requests that a young man of the Inner Temple, a relation of his, may have charge of the poor Dean. This letter dates itself, just at the time when Wolsey accumulated Winchester on his other bishoprics, September 14, 1528. In 1529 Cuthbert Tun- stall appoints Sampson the coadjutor of Richard Pace, then, as before, afflicted by imbecility, or rather alienation of mind. 7 But before this time Wolsey was in disgrace. The tale becomes more dismal and more obscure. It has been supposed that Pace died in 1532 ; and that the deanery of S. Paul's was vacant four years. It is manifest that Pace lived till 1536, and during these years met with cruel usage from some one ' who had called himself his ' friend, but was his enemy.' Was this Gardiner, then secretary to the King ? Who could it be but Gardiner ? The letter in which these words are read, was addressed by the friend of Pace (Wakefielde) to Sir Thomas Boleyn, , Earl of Wiltshire. It speaks of our Queen Anne (Anne was crowned June 1, 1533). Wakefielde's letter was probably written in 1534 or 1535 ; and this letter professes to en- close one addressed to the King by Richard Pace, who like myself, adds the writer, has been treated 'unworthily, un- ' gratefully, and unjustly, by his friend and mine, or rather 8 Ellis, vol. iii. series 2, 151. ' Wharton, p. 239. 186 BURNING OF THE ENGLISH BIBLE. CHAP. ' by our common enemy.' For ' he forcibly ejected him ^ ' from his own house in a state of poverty, and did not ' allow him to remain there ; he who not only deserved so * well of him, but of all scholars. He was the glory of ' Englishmen.' 8 Alas ! the doleful close to the life of a man, the rival, the designated successor of Wolsey, the friend of Erasmus, patronised, honoured, beloved in every court and state of Europe, as the wisest ambassador of England, now, as Dean of S. Paul's, cast out of his deanery in des- titution, with the ' scholar's mind all overthrown,' to die no one knows where. 9 As the Reformation drew near, successive scenes at S. Paul's, or in its precincts, show the rise and ebb of the advancing tide of change. The first of these remarkable events, in S. Paul's, might seem to crush the impending dangers under the feet of the triumphant Clergy. Their great enemy, the English Bible, was to be utterly destroyed and put to shame. It was not only to be held up as an audacious invasion of the rights of the Clergy as the sole instruc- tors of the people, but as a false, erroneous, heretical in- terpretation of the Word of God. This scene has been so admirably described by a living historian, that I am un- willing to relate it but in the words of Mr. Froude : ' On the morning of Shrove Tuesday, A.D. 1527, we are * to picture to ourselves a procession moving along London ' streets, from the Fleet Prison to S. Paul's Cathedral. 8 This letter is in the Appendix to by Gardiner. Wolsey, it certainly was Knight's Erasmus, p. 64. I have to not ; Wolsey had been long in his thank Mr. Brewer for the discovery of grave. There is a vague story of the this remarkable passage. Mr. Brewer incarceration of Pace in his latter suspects Gardiner to have been the days, by order of the King ; a mani- common enemy of Wakefield and of test exaggeration of his confinement Pace, whose leanings were to the when insane. Boleyns and the new Queen, so cor- 9 Wharton. dially hated, as well as her partisans, THE SIX PKISONEKS. 187 ' The Warden of the Fleet was there, and the Knight CHAP. VIII. 1 Marshal and the tipstaffs, -with " all his company they < '- ' could make," with bills and glaives, and in the midst ' of these armed officials, six men marching in penitential ' dresses, one carrying a lighted taper five pounds weight, ' the others with symbolic fagots, signifying to the lookers- 1 on the fate which their crimes had earned for them, but * which at this time in mercy was remitted. One of these ' was Barnes ; the other five were " Stillyard men," undis- ' tinguishable by any other name, but detected members ' of the brotherhood.' It was eight o'clock when they arrived at S. Paul's. ' The people had thronged in crowds before them. The ' public seats and benches were filled. All London had ' hurried to the spectacle. A platform was erected in the ' centre of the nave, on the top of which, enthroned in ( pomp of purple and gold and splendour, sate the great 1 Cardinal, supported on each side with eighteen Bishops, * mitred Abbots, and Priests six-and-thirty in all ; his ' chaplains and " spiritual doctors " sitting also where ' they could find place, " in gowns of damask and satin." * Opposite the platform, over the north door of the Cathe- ' dral, was a great crucifix a famous image in those days, ' called the Eood of Northern ; ! and at the foot of it, in- * side a rail, a fire was burning, with the sinful books, ' the Tracts and Testaments, ranged round it in baskets, ' waiting for the execution of the sentence. * Such was the scene in the midst of which the six pri- ' soners entered. A second platform stood in a con- * spicuous place in front of the Cardinal's throne, where ' they could be seen and heard by the crowd ; and there, ' on their knees, with their fagots on their shoulders, they 'This was the Crux Borealis, the foot of this cross (see back, p. 153). called Northern from its position. We We should be curious to know its con- have seen the produce of the pyx, at tents on this day. 188 BIBLES BUENED. CHAP. ' begged pardon of God and the Holy Catholic Church foi ,. ' ^ ' their high crimes and offences. When the confession ' was finished, Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, preached a 6 sermon ; and, the sermon over, Barnes turned to the ' people, declaring that he was more charitably handled ' than he deserved, his heresies were so heinous and de- 4 testable. ' There was no other religious service : mass had, per- ' haps, been said previous to the admission into the church ' of heretics lying under censure ; and the Knight Mar- ' shal led the prisoners down to the fire underneath the 4 crucifix. They were taken within the rails, and three 1 times led round the blazing pile, casting in their fagots ' as they passed. The contents of the baskets were 1 heaped upon the fagots, and the holocaust was com- ' plete. This time an unbloody sacrifice was deemed suf- ' ficient. The Church was satisfied with penance, and ' Fisher pronounced the prisoners absolved, and received ' back into communion.' 2 And all this time, while those Testaments were burning in S. Paul's, and for some years after, the printers at Antwerp were striking off and mul- tiplying, and still multiplying, copies of an improved edition of the books, out of the lavish sums with which the Bishops were buying up the copies thus idly and un- profitably destroyed. 3 Barnes, it should be added, was delivered ' home ' to prison, but he broke away from thence, and, writes the Grey Friar with brief bitterness, 'went * beyond sea unto Luther.' 4 This was but the beginning of what was proclaimed an internecine war against the Protestant English Bible. At a somewhat later period (A.D. 1530), the King having 2 Froude, vol. ii. pp. 42, 43. expense of buying up Tyndal's Testa- * See the curious letter of the merits. Ellis, 3rd series, vol. ii. p. 91. Bishop of London to Archbishop War- 4 Grey Friar's Chronicle, p. 33. ham, offering to bear his share in the CLEEGY UNDER PR.EMUNIKE. 189 prohibited the dissemination of Tyndal's Bible, a second CHAP, holocaust was offered, over which Bishop Stokesley pre- ^_ '_ sided. The Bishops had promised a less faulty version. A less faulty version did speedily appear, but not from the Bishops. Four years had passed since this first biblical auto dafe and the victory of the Clergy, over which the great Car- dinal had presided in all his pomp. Wolsey had fallen. NOV. 7, Wolsey was in his grave ; but Wolsey, on his fall, had left a fearful legacy to the Church. Now the whole Clergy were at the feet of the King, in the most submissive and hu- miliating prostration, only disputing on whom that hu- miliation and the consequences of that humiliation should press most heavily. Wolsey had assumed, had exercised, on a grant from the Pope, in direct defiance of the famous Statute of Provisors, the full legatine authority in the realm of England. The Clergy had submitted to that il- legal authority. Had the King all the while raised any objection? Had not the King, if he had not himself so- licited the grant from the Pope, acquiesced for years in its open and public exercise ? This the King chose to pass over as unworthy of consideration. It was convenient to forget, and who should impeach the King's forgetfulness ? There was no instrument to show the royal licence. The Clergy, perhaps not without pride at this re-exaltation of the ecclesiastical power, had certainly not resisted, by their submission they had acknowledged, by their acknowledg- ment had become accomplices in the violation of this statute and in the treason. The Church, the whole Church, had incurred the penalty of Prsemunire. The temporalities of all the ecclesiastics in the realm, from the Primate to the humblest curate, were forfeit to the Crown ; and the Crown had the opportunity to revenge itself for the slow and reluctant subsidies which from time to time it had 190 CHAPTER HOUSE OF S. PAUL'S. CHAP, persuaded the Clergy to dole out in their niggard bounty. _ . ' , A demand was made, sternly, irresistibly, of no less a sum than 100,OOOZ. The Clergy had been obliged, in full Con- vocation, being at the mercy of the Crown, to submit to these hard terms. But on whom was the burden to fall ? On the poorer as well as on the wealthier Clergy ; on the holder of' some single ill-paid benefice, as on the opulent Bishop, the rich mitred Abbot, the magnificent pluralist ? on those whose duty it was, from rank, office, position, to resist this usurpation, this encroachment on the constitu- tion, or on those also who had no voice, probably no thought on such matters ; at all events, had no power of resistance or remonstrance? Why should the lower Clergy be mulcted for the crimes, at least the criminal and cowardly lachesse, of their imperious superiors ? They determined to resist the iniquitous charge. ' Let those pay ' who can pay and ought to pay.' The battle was fought in London, in the Chapter House of S. Paul's : the Chapter House abutted on the south aisle of the Cathedral. Each Bishop had to assess and raise in his diocese the share of this heavy tax. Bishop Stokesley, of London, described by the chronicler as a man 'of great wit and learning, but of little discretion ' and humanity, which caused him to be out of favour with ' the common people,' had summoned his Clergy generally to meet in the Chapter House on 1st September. The Bishop's policy was, with a chosen few, to arrange the affair in amicable quiet. To his dismay he heard that the whole Clergy, at least six hundred, of all ranks and orders, Curates, Stipendiaries, the lowest and humblest, were thronging at the doors of the Chapter House, backed by a great multitude of the people, who crowded around, some perhaps from attachment to their pastors, few from love or respect for the Bishop, very many doubtless to en- BISHOP STOKESLEY. 191 joy and aggravate the riot. The Bishop's officers called by CHAP. name the favoured few, but, instead of giving way, a great , number, thrusting the officers aside, forced the doors, and broke headlong into the chamber. With difficulty the officers succeeded in again closing the doors. This only exasperated the tumult without. 'We will not be left ' without, our fellows being within. We know not what f the Bishop will do with them.' The unclerical multitude goaded them on ; there was a rush at the door, which gave way with a crash, and in they all poured, lay and clergy, with a great rending of gowns and cassocks, crushing of caps, and all the wild affray of a London mob. One, it is to be hoped not of the Clergy, struck the Bishop's officer on the face. The Chapter House was filled to its utmost corner ; it was long before silence could be obtained. At length the smooth bland voice of the Bishop, who maintained his calm self-possession, was heard above the tumult. ' I marvel, my brethren, that ye be so heady, and * will not hear what may be said unto you. I pray you ' keep silence, and listen to me with patience.' He went on : ' Friends ! we are men, not angels. We have miscarried ' ourselves towards the King. All our promotions, goods, * lands, and chattels are forfeit to him, and our bodies liable * to imprisonment. The King, on the humble petition of * us, the fathers of the Clergy, has inclined, as he ever does, * to mercy. He will release us from the Prsemunire on the ' payment of 100,OOOZ. in five years. Therefore, I chari- ' tably expect you, brethren, to bear your parts in the pay- ' ment from your livelihoods and salaries.' The reply was prompt, brief, resolute, not easily answerable. * My Lord, ' thirty nobles a year is but bad living for a Priest, now * that victuals and everything else is so dear ; our poverty ' enforceth us to say " Nay." My Lord, we never offended ( in the Prsemunire, and never meddled in the Cardinal's 192 SERMON ON THE DIVOECE. CHAP. ' business. Let the Bishops and Abbots who have offended VIII ,_-_ ' ' pay.' 5 High words were uttered, not by the Bishop but by his officers, no doubt offended at the inso]ence of these low priests to their lord and master. Blows were struck : the ' temporals ' backed the priests, so that the Bishop himself began to quail with apprehension for his sacred person. With his silkiest tones he pardoned their rude demeanour, gave them a hasty blessing, and entreated them to depart in charity. The Bishop withdrew, and the Priests, too, thinking all was over, withdrew. But the Bishop's pardon was . only from his lips : he hastened to the Chancellor, Sir Thomas More. Fifteen Priests and four laymen were arrested by the Chancellor's order, some committed to the Fleet, some to the Tower ; they paid the penalty of their resistance by a long imprisonment. For the whole seven years, during which the question of the King's divorce was in agitation, the pulpit of S. Paul's, the pulpit of Paul's Cross, rang more or less loudly with the arguments and invectives of the disputants on either side. Those who at Greenwich preached boldly in the face of the King against the divorce, would not neglect, at first at least they do not appear to have been prohibited from speaking their minds before this more popular tribunal. One John Scott, preacher, as he an- nounced himself, to the Virgin Mary, was allowed to mount the pulpit at Paul's Cross, delivered a fierce harangue against the Apostate, the promoter of the divorce, and summoned the bolts of heaven upon the guilty head. He was thrown into prison, where he was asserted by his fanatic followers to have lived a hundred and six days without food or drink ; such was the grace of the Blessed Virgin to her prisoner. The King was not likely to 4 Hall's Chronicle, with his usual full and lively detail, p. 742, 4to ed. THE NUN OF KENT. 193 want some sincere, many obsequious, preachers on his CHAP. side. 6 r In that most magnificent procession of Anne Boleyn from the Tower to her coronation, she only passed the Cathedral, which does not appear to have paid her any special homage, none at least worthy of being recorded by the chroniclers of that gorgeous spectacle. Only as she went by the east end of the church, she was entertained by the boys of S. Paul's School with verses in praise of the King and her, ' wherewith she seemed highly delighted.' Poor Anne Boleyn ! her return to the Tower was by water ! In the year after that marriage the superstition, which, stronger and more dangerous than the nobler motives of right or justice, or consideration for the noble Katherine of Arragon, or indignation against the usurping Queen, had appealed to the popular passions against the divorce, had at Paul's Cross a public, signal, ignominious exposure and refutation. The Bishop of Bangor preached at the Cross. At his feet stood the Nun of Kent, with her clerical ac- complices the Dean of Booking and the pastor of Alder- manbury. She stood in shame and silence to hear read aloud her full, circumstantial confession of the whole im- posture. The Nun, who had pretended to divine revela- tions, and had been believed by hundreds ; whose visions had stirred the popular discontent to fury ; who had been at least countenanced by no less a man than Bishop Fisher of Rochester, perhaps even by a wiser man than Fisher, at least not disclaimed by More ; not only this miserable, half- crazy, half-self-deluded girl was there, but two dignitaries 6 Before this Erasmus complains to out in a fury (debacchari ccepit) against his friend, Herman Bushius, 1525, Erasmus, that the Christian religion 1532, that Standish, afterwards was destined to total ruin, iravoXtdptav, Bishop of S. Asaph, began a sermon if the translators of the New Testa- at Paul's Cross, July 2, 1520, with soft ment were not utterly and entirely words about charity, and then broke suppressed. 194 KING'S SUPEEMACY. CHAP, of the Church, who had not merely been the victims of a vm. , gross fraud, but had prompted, organised the whole ; they had been confessedly deceived by the Nun ; or, more truly, had been the victims of a wicked liar, claiming the in- spiration of the Holy Ghost for her wild words. Such were the criminals, who before assembled London were constrained to testify, to avouch by their presence, and out of their own words, their share in this treasonable and contemptible fraud. Doubtless this scene told more with the shrewd citizens of London, and even with the rabble, than had all the pro-divorce sermons of the more courtly Bishops and Deans, or even the sentences, bought perhaps, of the Universities. In 1534, after the final determination to abrogate the Pope's supremacy, and the Act of Parliament passed to that effect, care was taken to secure the pulpit of Paul's Cross in favour of the Royal Supremacy. ( Orders be taken * that such as preach at Paul's Cross (at first it should seem ' the preachers were bishops) shall henceforth continually, ' Sunday after Sunday, teach and declare unto the people, ' that he that now called himself Pope, and any of his pre- ' decessors, is and were only Bishops of Rome, and have no ' more authority or jurisdiction, by God's laws, within this ' realm, than any other Bishop had, which is nothing at ' all ; and that such authority as he has claimed heretofore ' has been only by usurpation and sufferance of the Princes * of this realm ; and that the Bishop of London is bound to * suffer none to preach at Paul's Cross, as he will answer, ' but such as will preach and set forth the same.' Such was the royal edict. 7 Bishop Stokesley was not the man, from character, or from his present avowed opinions, to resist the royal man- date, as far as the abrogation of the Papal authority. He ' Strype's Memorials, vol. i. p. 151. ANABAPTISTS BUKNED. 195 with. Gardiner though he did not, like Gardiner, write a CHAP, long and elaborate treatise on 'true obedience* to the King, ^_ T J_ not to the Pope, or, like Bonner, contribute a preface to that work was on this article with the advanced party. Nor on this point only was he obsequious. Stokesley had gone with Cranmer and Gardiner to Dunstable to cite Queen Katherine to make her appearance. He appears too singularly earnest on the King's side in a curious scene. ' Yesterday we had my Lord of London here in the Chap- ' ter House of women (the Nuns of Sion), and the Confessor ' also, which both took it upon their consciences and the ' peril of their souls, that the ladies ought, by God's law, ' to consent to the King's title, his supremacy. Whereat i they were much comforted.' 8 Stokesley, on this subject, had no reason to apprehend op- position from the Dean and Chapter. Over Paul's Cross, no doubt, his authority was supreme. An instrument is ex- tant in which the Dean and Chapter, seemingly with entire unanimity, declare their obedience to the King Henry, and to Anne his wife, and to their offspring. 9 They assert the King to be the head of the Church of England, and that the Bishop of Rome has no more authority than any other foreign Bishop. The document is largely signed, by the Dean and Subdean, the Cardinals, four Canons Residen- tiary, and others. 1 Bishop Stokesley, though firm in his own heresy, or what would have been held by most churchmen, but few years before, heinous heresy, had little mercy on other heretics. He had burned two Lollards, and forced recan- 8 Suppression of Monasteries, p. 49. Smythe, a Residentiary, and presented 9 Appendix to Wharton. to Anne Boleyn, with the understand- 1 I must not suppress a curious but ing that ' he will have her favour in not very creditable letter about a rich ' certain transactions with the Dean cross, adorned with jewels, secretly ' and Chapter.' Dugdale, p. 403. taken from the church by William O 2 196 THOMAS PHILLIPS. CHAP, tation from many more. We must not lay to his especial r '-^ charge a sad spectacle in the Cathedral. In 1535, nine- teen Dutch (German) Anabaptists and five women were examined in the Cathedral ; fourteen were condemned ; a man and a woman sent to he burned in Smithfield ; twelve despatched to other towns to be sacrificed as an example. To the fate of these poor wretches, the hearts of Papalists and Antipapalists, of Catholics and Protest- ants, were sternly sealed. It may be doubted whether, in all London, or even in all England, there was a murmur of compassion. Anabaptists were the Ishmaelites of the religious world, against whom was every man's hand, and unhappily whose hand, in Germany, had been against every man. The memory of Munster and of John of Leyden pursued them wherever they went. Blameless as some of them may have been poor ignorant fanatics, they were proscribed by universal abhorrence, not only as heretics but as lawless socialists. Stokesley had other victims not so entirely without the pale of human sympathy. One of the worst cases, we fear not the worst, of his relentless rigour, was the persecution of Thomas Phillips, a citizen of London, for heresy. Phillips, as he states in his petition to the House of Commons, altogether denied the charges. The prisoner was found so clear ' from all manner of slanders and sus- ' picions, that all the people, before the said Bishop, shout- 1 ing in judgment as with one voice, openly witnessed ' his good name and fame to the great reproof and shame ( of the said Bishop, if he had not been ashamed to be * ashamed.' 2 In conjunction with More the Chancellor (some will take this as exculpating Stokesley ; some, it is to be feared, as inculpating More), the Bishop pressed the prosecution, ancU excommunicated Phillips, who languished 2 Quoted from MS. by Froude. HUGH LATIMEE. 197 in prison for three years. At the end of this period he CHAP, was released on the authority of the King and of the > , '_ House of Commons, who thus avouched the judgment of the multitude. 3 A worse than this worst case was that of James Bain- ham. Frightened by the cold stern demeanour of Stokes- ley, Bainham recanted. The next day he recanted his re- cantation. He was taken to the Bishop of London's coal cellar at Fulham, the favourite episcopal prison chamber. There he was ironed, put in the stocks, and left for many days in the chill March weather. Bainham, after repeated whippings, was burned in Smithfield. , Stokesley flew at higher game. He had a strong desire to burn Latimer. He had been baffled, it should seem more than once, by the wise and merciful discernment of the King, who appreciated the bold honesty of the homely preacher. This was in 1522. Now, at the opening of the Convocation, June 1536 (Anne Boleyn had been executed hardly three weeks, May 19), Hugh Latimer, Bishop of Worcester, ascended the pulpit in S. Paul's Cathedral. 4 There must have been intense agitation, even wild hopes, raised by that sad event, the Queen's death, which to some might seem a deathblow to the Reformation, had not these hopes been rebuked by the appearance of Latimer in the pul- pit. The Clergy of all orders crowded the choir; the people the nave and aisles. All the great prelates were there. The Primate Cranmer, with his heart full of sorrow for the unfortunate Queen, even if that sorrow was not betrayed by his countenance. Stokesley, on his episcopal throne, among the suffragans of Canterbury, Gardiner, Shaxton, Hilsey, Bonner as yet only Archdeacon. Of Latimer's * Compare, on Stokesley's refusal as Stokesley's was not a case of impeach- a Peer to answer a charge from the ment by the House of Commons. House of Commons, Hallam's note, 4 Froude, Vol. iii. p. 57. Constitutional History, vol. i. p. 351. 198 LATIMEE'S SERMONS. CHAP, audience, it has been said, I suspect with justice, ' nine _ t __^ < tenths of all those eyes, which were then fixed on him, 1 would have glistened with delight if they could have looked ' instead upon his burning. The whole multitude were com- ' pelled by a changed world to listen quietly while he shot ' his bitter arrows among them.' The world was indeed changed, since on the same occasion, twenty-four years before, from the same pulpit, Dean Colet delivered his famous sermon. Colet had unconsciously prepared, he had not foreseen, the change. This strongly commends Colet's courage, for Latimer's arrows were hardly more bitter than the as sharp but more polished shafts launched by Colet. Did the Prelates sit out both these sermons of Latimer, for there was one in the morning, another in the afternoon ? 5 Both followed from the same text, i The children of this ' world are wiser than the children of light.' The sermons are most remarkable, not only as displaying the bold and various eloquence of Latimer, now of the most vivid im- pressive simplicity, now breaking out into the rude pic- turesqueness of Bunyan, but marked throughout with the singular moderation and good sense with which he treats some of the most fiercely disputed subjects the worship of images, faith and works which maddened the public mind. ' While they thus preached to the people that dead images, 1 which at the first, I think, were set up to represent things ' absent, not only ought to be covered with gold ' (Did he glance at S. Erkenwald, still in all his splendour ?) * but ' who ought, of all faithful, and Church or people, yea in ' this scarceness and penury of all things, to be clad with * These two sermons were as usual, ' not behind your backs.' By whom being addressed to the Clergy, 'ad were the sermons translated as we ' Clerum ' not ' ad populum,' in Latin, read them in Latimer's works, into the ' I am bold with you. I speak Latin, vigorous old idiomatic English ? By ' not English, to the Clergy, not to the Latimer himself? It would be curious ' laity. I speak to you being present, to have a sample of Latimer's Latin. THE SECOND SEEMON. 199 ' silk garments, and those all laden with precious gems CHAP. i and jewels ; and that, besides all this, images are to be > r __ ' lighted with wax candles both within the church and 6 without the church, yea, and at noon-day, as who * should say no cost can be too great ; whereas, in the f meantime, we see Christ's faithful and lively images, ( bought with no less price than his most precious blood ( (alas ! alas !) to be an hungred, a-thirst, a-cold, and to ' be in darkness, wrapped in all wretchedness, yea to be ' there till death take away their miseries ; while they ' preach those will- works that come of even our devotion, ' although they see not the necessity of works of mercy ' and the precepts of God ; yet they said, and in the pulpit, ( that will- works were more principal and excellent, and, ' plainly to utter what they mean, more acceptable to God ' than works of mercy.' Latimer was clearly no Anti- nomian ! In the second sermon (I trust the Bishops were again in their places) the arraignment of the Clergy was more direct and outspoken. Latimer began with a striking allegory : ' Then the Devil, being such an one as can never be un- ' like himself, so of Envy, his well-beloved leman, he begat ' the World, and after left it with Discord at nurse : which ' World, after that it came to man's state, had of many ' concubines many sons. He was so fecund a father, and ' had gotten so many children, as Lady Pride, Dame Glut- ' tony, Mistress Avarice, Lady Lechery, and Dame Sub- 1 tlety, that hard and scant ye may find any kind of life, ' where her children in courts, in cowls, in cloisters, in ' rochets, be they never so white, yea, where shall ye not ' find them ? ' After dwelling on those whom ' their ' grandfather the Devil hath engendered,' the preacher be- comes more plain spoken. ' The cries of your convocation ' shall show what ye have done, the fruit of your consul- 200 THE SECOND SEKMON. CHAP. ' tation shall show what generation ye be of. For what , I-' ' have ye done hitherto, I pray you, these seven years and ' more ? What have ye engendered ? what have ye ' brought forth ? What fruit ' is come of your long and * great assembly ? What one thing that the people of ( England hath been better of a hair ? or you yourselves ' more accepted before God, or better discharged towards ' the people committed to your care ? For that the people ' be better learned and taught now than they were in 1 time past, to whether of these ought we to attribute it * to your industry, or the foreseeing of the King's ' Grace? .... What went ye about? What would ye ' have brought to pass ? Two things taken away ? the ' one that ye, I heard, burned a dead man ' (this was William Tracy, dug from his grave and burned) ; ' the ' other, that ye, which I felt, went about to burn one being 4 alive ' (Latimer himself was Stokesley on his throne and Latimer's eyes on Stokesley?). 'Ye have oft sate in * consultation, but what have ye done ? Te have had ' many things in deliberation, but what one is put forth ' whereby Christ is more glorified, or else Christ's people ' made more holy ? . . . . For what thing was that, once * every hundred years was brought forth in Rome of the ' children of the world? and with how much policy it ' was made, ye heard at Paul's Cross at the beginning of ' the last Parliament how some brought forth canon iza- * tions, some expectations, some pluralities and unions, ' some totquots and disputations, some pardons, and ' those of infinite variety, some stationaries, some jubi- ' laries, some pocularies for drinkers, some manuaries for ' holders of relics, some pedaries for pilgrims, some oscu- ' laries for kisses But yet they that begot and ' brought forth our old ancient Purgatory ; that that was ' suaged and cooled with a Franciscan's cowl put on a CLOSE OF THE SEEMON. 201 ( dead man's back It was a pleasant fiction, and CHAP. ' from the beginning so profitable to the feigners of it, , ' ' that almost, I dare almost say, there hath been no < Emperor that hath gotten more by taxes and talliages * of them that are alive, than these, the very right-be- i gotten sons of the world get by dead men's tributes ' and gifts.' How did the Dean and Chapter of S. Paul's take this ? ' Wherefore, lift up your heads, brethren, and ' look about with your eyes ; spy what things are to be ' reformed in the Church of England.' He goes on with the Court of Arches, Bishops, consistories, ceremonies, abuse of holidays, abuse of images, relics, vigils, watch- ings, pilgrimages. 'But even still the miserable people ' are suffered to take the false miracles for the true, and ' to be still asleep in all the hell of superstition. God have ' mercy upon us ! ' The sermon closes with a terrific pic- ture of the Last Day. 'But God will come! God will 1 come ! He will net tarry long away.' ' To what end have ' we now excelled in policy ? What have we brought ' forth at the last ? Ye see, brethren, what sorrow, what * punishment is provided for you, if ye be worldlings. If ' ye will not thus be vexed, be ye not the children of the ' world. If ye will not be children of the world, be not ' smitten with the love of unholy things. Lean not upon ' them. If ye will not die eternally, live not worldly. ' Come, go to, leave the love of your profit ; study for the ' glory and profit of Christ : seek in your consultations ' such things as pertain to Christ, and bring forth at the ' last something that may please Christ. Preach truly the ' Word of God. Love the light, walk in the light, and so ' be ye the children of light, while ye are in this world, ' that ye may shine in the world to come, bright as the ' sun, with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, to ' whom be all honour, and praise, and glory. Amen.' 202 CKOMWELL. CHAP. Before the death of Stokesley, another blow was struck VIII - ^- at the crumbling fabric of the old superstition ; no doubt more hard and telling than all the arguments of Latimer. Men are wrought upon more strongly through their eyes than their ears. On Sunday, Nov. 24, 1538, the rood of Boxley, in Kent, made to move the eyes and lips, to bow, to seem to speak ; which had been working there unques- tioned miracles for centuries ; having been detected by a clever rationalist of the day, and exposed with all its secret springs and ingenious machinery, at Maidstone, at White- hall, was brought to S. Paul's to meet its final discom- fiture and doom. 6 To the curious and intelligent citizens of London the whole trickery was shown. Ridley, now Bishop of Rochester, preached a sermon. The holy, wonder-working image, was thrown down and broken to pieces amid the jeers and scoffs of the rabble. In 1539, Cromwell sat as Vicar-General, presiding over an assembly of Bishops in the Parliament House of West- minster. After an humble acknowledgment of the __^1_ January 28, 1547, Edward ascended the throne. On April 1, the English service was heard in the King's Chapel, not yet in the Cathedral. But a Dr. Glazier had preached at Paul's Cross against the observance of Lent by fasting, which he declared to be without sanction in holy writ, a political ordinance of man. On May 15, Dr. Smith, principal of Whittington College, condemned his own books, written in defence of the old faith, as heretical. Another preacher, no less than Ridley, afterwards Bishop of London, then Master of Pembroke College, Cambridge, inveighed against the worship of pictures, the adoration of saints, the use of holy water. Barlow, Bishop of S. David's, was more violent on some of the more dangerous points of the impending controversy. On the other hand, a sumptuous herse was raised in the nave of the Cathedral in honour of the French King, Francis I., just dead. Latin dirges were chanted; the Archbishop of Canterbury (Cranmer), wittf eight mitred Bishops, sang a Requiem Mass. The Bishop of Win- chester preached the funeral sermon, eulogistic, as it might be from Gardiner (when was a funeral sermon not eulogistic?), over this deadly enemy and persecutor of the Reformed faith. The Lord Mayor and Aldermen p2 212 EDICT OF THE COUNCIL. CHAP, were present. The choir and all the body of the church IX '_^ was hung with black. In the same day, the same obit was observed in every church in London, all the bells tolling. In the procession from the Tower to Westminster there were pageants, the streets were hung with rich tapestries, the guilds stood along Cheapside in all their splendour, presenting themselves as loving subjects unto their King, and so to S. Paul's. At the west end of S. Paul's steeple was tied a cable, the other end attached to the anchor of a ship near the door of the deanery, down which a man ran as swift as an arrow from a bow, with his hands and feet abroad, and not touching the rope. 1 In September appeared in S. Paul's the commissioners for the execution of the edict of the Council which commanded the destruction of images in churches, forbade processions, and ordained the discontinuance of all customs held to be superstitious, not in the Cathedral only but in all the precincts. The images were pulled down, the work of demo- lition began. On the 14th February the Litany was chanted in English, between the choir and the nave, the singers being half on one side, half on the other ; the Epistle and Gospel were read in English. The Dean, William May, sanctioned these proceedings with his presence. John Incent had succeeded Sampson in 1540 ; on Incent's death in 1545, William May became Dean of S. Paul's, a man, it should seem, of the more advanced principles of the Refor- mation. Bishop Bonner had received the injunctions of the Council under protest ; he had been committed to the Fleet for his contumacy ; he made a submission humble enough to be accepted by the Government, and was released after an imprisonment of eight days. In his absence these changes were made ; greater changes were 1 Grey Friar's Chronicle, p. 53. GKEY FKIARS' CHKONICLEE. 213 to come. Gardiner too was summoned before Cranmer in CHAP. IX the Deanery of S. Paul's, and also committed to prison. > ,-!_ Not far from the Cathedral, lurking, no doubt, among the ruins of the once splendid Monastery of the Grey Friars nearly on the site of the present Christ's Hospital (part of the sumptuous building had been destroyed, part alien- ated to profane uses, the Choir remaining, but curtailed of its fair proportions), the Chronicler of the Grey Friars watched with jealous vigilance all these proceedings, odious, sacrilegious, impious to him, in the neighbouring Cathedral, and recorded them from day to day, with a quiet simplicity through which transpires the bitterness of his heart. On the first general destruction of the images he is brief. ' On the vth day after September began the ' King's visitation at Powll's,and all the images were pulled ' down.' 2 On the details of the iconoclasm he is silent; as his indignation deepens, he becomes more eloquent. On the 21st day of November, at night (Did the destroyers appre- hend tumult and resistance ?) the Rood in S. Paul's was pulled down, the Crucifix, and its attendants, S. Mary and S. John ; ' and so alle imagys pullyd down throw alle ' Ynglonde at that tyme, and alle Churches new whyte- ' limed, with the commandements wrytten on the walls.' 3 (This cannot have been done at S. Paul's.) Two of the men engaged in the sacrilegious work at S. Paul's, the chronicler takes care to note, were killed. 2 Grey Friar's Chronicle, among the were destroyed. We have seen for- publications of the Camden Society, merly that some windows of cost ' Item, at this time was pulled up all were endangered by the mischief of ' the tombs, great stones, all the aulters boys. If such images were among those ' with the stalls and walls of the quoir, pulled down, the Chronicler and other ' and aulters in the church that was authorities, would have noticed the ' sometime the Grey Friars, and sold, iconoclasm, and their rude and ruth- ' and the quoir made smaller.' less demolition would have exposed s I cannot satisfy myself whether the church, till the windows were re- S. Paul's boasted of splendid painted placed in a meaner form, to all the in- windows, and, if so, at what time they conveniences of cold and weather. 214 OBITS AND CHANTEIES ABOLISHED. CHAP. With the images fell of course the boxes for oblations. IX . ^ - No doubt the golden days were passed in which those boxes, watched with so much care, opened with so much solemnity, poured forth their unfailing treasures into the lap of the Dean and Canons. With the failure of faith in the tutelar power of the saints, with doubts as to the efficacy of the masses and prayers which supplicated their all-powerful intercession, the tribute to the clergy, through whom that intercession was obtained, would fall off. Did Dean William May, and the Canons who agreed with William May, with a noble and Christian self-denial, look calmly on their loss ? the loss, which even devout Roman Catholics might have looked upon with sorrow, as im- poverishing the maintenance of the Church and her ser- vices, and the abundant alms for the poor ? A heavier blow fell on the Cathedral. By one remorse- less and sweeping act all obits and chantries were swept away ; their endowments and estates poured into the in- satiate gulph of the Eoyal Treasury. Before the death of Henry VIII. they had been escheated to the Crown by Act of Parliament. But in the first year of Edward VI., on New Year's Day, a full, elaborate, and copious return was demanded and rendered of all chantries and obits. The confiscation followed, not for any great national use, but, it is to be feared, the proceeds were poured lavishly into the hands of unprincipled and rapacious members of the Council and their adherents. All the private masses died away into silence ; the names of the founders disappeared from the walls; the chapels and shrines remained mute and unfrequented : the souls of the provident and munifi- cent founders were left to the unpropitiated justice, as it was thought by many, or unbought mercy, of the Great Judge. Whether any soul fared the worse, our colder age may doubt ; but it was doubtless a galling wound to the PLUNDER OF THE CATHEDRAL. 215 kindred and friends of those men. What became of the CHAP. IX multitude of mass priests maintained by these altars, ap- -. T _ pears not ; nor can we calculate the loss to the Dean and B-esidentiaries. 4 On the spoliation of the other treasures of the Church the Grey Chronicler is silent ; nor do I find any full or trustworthy account, either of these treasures or of their dispersion. The wealth of S. Paul's in plate, jewels, church furniture and decorations, in vestments, and in the paraphernalia for the public services, must have been very great it might seem enormous. There is extant a visitation inventory of these treasures, taken by Dean Kalph de Baldock, at the close of the thirteenth century (A.D. 1295), which, including books and the furniture of the dependent chapels, and the Church of St. Mark, fills twenty-six folio pages in Dugdale, pp. 310 to 336. Making every allowance for decay, loss, petty thefts, more auda- cious malversations by unprincipled guardians of these treasures, two centuries and a-half more of munificence from bishops, deans, and other clergy, of prodigal and ostentatious, and all honoured, and all admired, and meri- torious, and soul-saving offerings of this kind from the faithful, rich and poor, cannot but have accumulated to an incalculable extent. What became of these sacred treasures ? When, by whom, in what way were they despoiled and scattered abroad ? It is to be feared that Mr. Froude's description of this general spoliation is too true : ' In the autumn and winter of 15523, no less than ' four commissions were appointed with this one object ; s four of whom were to go over the often -trodden ground, * and glean the last spoils which could be gathered from * the churches. In the business of plunder the. rapacity 4 The return of the chantries and obits is given at full length in the Appendix tc Dugdale, pp. 380-390. 216 SPOILS OF S. PAUL'S IN SPAIN. CHAP. ' of the crown officials had been far distanced hitherto by IX. \ - ' private peculation. The halls of country-houses were * hung with altar cloths ; tables and beds were quilted with copes ; the knights and squires drank their claret ' out of chalices, and watered their horses in marble coffins. ( Pious clergy, gentlemen, or churchwardens, had in many ' places secreted plate, images, or candlesticks, which ' force might bring to light. Bells, rich in silver, still 1 hung silent in remote church towers, or were buried in * the vaults. Organs still pealed through the aisles in notes * unsuited to a regenerate worship ; and damask napkins, ' rich robes, consecrated banners, pious offerings of men c of another faith, remained in the chests .of the vestries.' 5 Who seized, who appropriated, who profaned the splendid banners which had waved over the processions in S. Paul's and from S. Paul's ? To what baser uses were the countless gorgeous vestments the copes, the albes, the chasubles, degraded ? What became of the plate, the jewelled and enamelled vessels the flagons, the chalices, the patens concealed ? Whither went some of the splendid altar cloths, singularly enough, we can show. Spanish cathedrals still boastfully deck themselves in the spoils of S. Paul's. * Enquire particularly in the sacristia (of the ' Cathedral of Valencia) to see the Terno, and complete ' set of three fronteles, or coverings for the altar, which ' were purchased in London by two Valencian merchants, ' Andrea and Pedro de Medina, at the sale by Henry VIII. ' (Edward VI. ?) of the Romish decorations of S. Paul's. * They are embroidered in gold and silver, are about twelve ' feet long by four, and represent subjects from the life of * the Saviour. In one, Christ in Limbo, are introduced ' turrets, evidently taken from those of the Tower of Lon- c don. They are placed on the high altar from Saturday to 4 Froude, vol. v. p. 458. PETITION OF DEAN AND CHAPTEK. 217 ' Monday in the Holy Week. A " terno " is only used CHAP. * on great funerals. 6 In the Cathedral of Zaragoza are ,-' 4 some fine " ternos," one a pontifical, cost 14,000 dollars ; ' also a " Delante da una capa," embroidered with Adam 1 and Eve, which was bought at our Reformation, from * the old Cathedral of S. Paul's, London.' 7 These trea- sures wandered far away ; of the rest it is impossible to trace the fate, more ignominious and destructive. There is something very sad in the humble petition of the Dean and Chapter accompanying an inventory of their plate and furniture to be surrendered to the King's offi- cers, that they might be permitted to retain a few neces- sary articles for the divine service of the once splendid cathedral of the metropolis : ' Two pair of basins for the ' Communion bread, and to receive the offerings for the ' poor ; one pair, silver, for every day, the other, for festivals, ' gilt; a silver pot for the wine, weighing forty ounces; ' the written text of the Gospels and Epistles ; a large ' canopy of tissue for his" Majesty when he cometh hither ; ' a pall of black velvet for the herse ; a border of black * sarcenet, with a fringe of fclack silk mixed with gold, for * the burial of noble persons ; bawdkins of divers sorts and * colours, for garnishing the quire at the King's coming ' and for the bishop's seat, as also at other times when * the quire shall be apparelled for the honour of the realm ; * eight cushions, thirty albs to make surplices for the ' ministers and the choristers ; twenty -four old cushions ' to kneel on ; seven cloths of linen, plain and diaper, * for the Communion Table ; five towels ; two hangings of ' tapestry for the quire ; a Turkey carpet for the Com- * munion Table ; a pastoral staff for the bishop.' This was all they hoped to rescue from the spoiler's insatiate * Ford's Handbook of Spain, vol. i. p. 440. " Ibid. vol. ii. p. 959. 218 LATIMER. CHAP. maw. They also requested a small sum for taking -- down the steps of the high altar and other purposes (SI. 6s. 3d.}. 8 On New Year's Day (1548), Latimer, Bishop of Worces- ter, and also on two following Sundays, preached at Paul's Cross. His sermon strongly asserted the rights of the clergy their rights to command but with these rights were in- dissolubly bound up their awful duties. Those rights be- longed only to those clergy who * sate in Moses' seat,' and who faithfully discharged the functions assigned to them by their divine Master. But among the preachers there were few who, like brave old Latimer, dwelt almost exc'u- sively on the great truths of the Christian religion and Christian morals, and abstained as far as possible from con- troversial disputation ; who, inveighing in his rude style, and bold familiar illustrations, against priests or people, addressed their consciences rather than their passions. Sin in high places, ecclesiastical or civil; sin in the lowest and in the loftiest, was the ofle object of his honest, homely denunciations. The sacrament of the Lord's Supper was now become the great subject of dispute, though not with Latimer. With others the coarsest language was used about that awful mystery. 9 The extravagant assertions common with the old priesthood, the gross materialism with which that holy spiritual rite had been invested, was met and encoun- tered by irreverent and indecent invectives, so that the Government was forced to attempt, and attempted in vain, to silence by proclamation the maddening disputants. Ridley, then Bishop of Rochester, preached a sermon at Paul's Cross, in which he most solemnly rebuked these 8 Dugdale, Appendix, p. 391. ' " Jacke-in-the-box," with divers other ' ' Also at this same tyme was ' shamfulle names, and there was ' mouche spekyng agayne the Sacra- ' made a proclamation against souche ' ment of the Auter ; that some called it ' sayings.' Grey Friar, p. 53. RIDLEY'S SERMON. 219 disgraceful wranglers. 1 He asserted in the loftiest tone CHAP, the dignity of the Sacrament, in which Christ was present - ^ though not in his material or natural body (the foread remained bread), but His presence was felt in the hearts of faithful communicants. But Eidley preached in vain. Sunday after Sunday the Cathedral was thronged, not with decent and respectable citizens, but with a noisy rabble, many of them boys, to hear unseemly harangues on that solemn rite, so sacred to all religious minds, so passionately adored by those of the old faith. Phrases like * Jack-in- ' the-box,' and others even more profane and offensive, were not uncommon. The strife continued far into the year after Edward's accession. Ballads were written on both sides ; ballads of the most vulgar tunes and coarsest words. The Grey Friar records with suppressed horror that Cardmaker, in English, and another teacher, who read in Latin, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, declared the Sacra- ment to be but bread and wine. If this so shocked the Grey Friar, what must have been the feelings of devout Eoman Catholics at the more vulgar ribaldry ? It was time that a solemn form for the celebration of the Eu- charist should be instituted, and should declare autho- ritatively what was the mind of the Eeformers on this mystery. At Eastfcr, therefore, the Communion was ad- ministered according to the Anglican form ; ' confession,' notes the Grey Friar, ' was only for those who would ' confess.' After Easter, by command of the Dean, William May, began regularly the English service. Bishop Bonner, it should seem, stood aloof. He had submitted on some- what ignominious terms ; but he had submitted. He no doubt remained in quiet seclusion at Fulham, not inter- fering with the changes, or with the disgraceful scenes, or even the sacrilegious violation of the buildings of his Cathedral. 1 Life of Ridley, by Ridley, p. 216. 220 THE KEFOEMERS. CHAP. On S. Martin's Day the sermons began again at Paul's ^ ' Cross. Ferrar, Bishop of S. David's, was the preacher. It was remarked that he did not preach in the dress of a bishop, but in that of a priest. ' He spake/ says the Grey Friar, ' against all manner of things, of the Church, and ' the Sacrament of the Altar, and vestments, and copes, * and all other things.' The worst enemies of the Reformation were the Reform- ers. The light emanating from the study of the Bible the English Bible had pierced through the dense mytho- logy which had long grown up around the great Christian truths, and had been for centuries moulded up and incor- porated with those great truths. This light in a few calm and superior minds had led to the discovery of those truths in their primitive simplicity, and brightened and cleared up the old belief into a purer, nobler, more spiritual faith. With too many the light had been a sudden bewildering disclosure, a desecration of the old objects of belief with no distinct revelation of the new. They discerned what they were not to believe, without any deep and serious conviction of what they were to believe. Religious demagogues (too common a change) became religious tyrants. It is im- possible to work a revolution, especially a religious revolu- tion, without stirring up the lees of 'human nature, and those lees were not only in the blindness and turbulence of the lower orders, but in the cupidity and rapacity of the highest. As it fared with the sacred doctrines, so it fared with the sacred buildings, with all the frame and out- works, as it were, of religion. Even under Henry VIII. the plunder of the monasteries had been hasty, indis- criminate ; a wild scramble of rapacious courtiers, states- men, even of the sovereign. At S. Paul's, the stately bell-tower, with its famous Jesus Bells, as has been said, were set on a throw of the dice by the King, and lost to THE PROTECTOR SOMERSET. 221 Sir Miles Partridge against a stake of 100Z. Partridge CHAP, had demolished the tower, and sold the materials. The VI Grey Friar records, with grim satisfaction, the subsequent execution of Partridge for treason, a manifest Divine judgment for his sacrilege. And now the Protector Somerset, a man of some noble qualities, a lover, if a blind lover, of the poor, set the ex- ample of grasping sacrilege on a wider scale. To build his sumptuous palace (on the site of which now stands Somerset House) he began by destroying a church, the palaces of three bishops (Llandaff, Chester, and Worcester) in the Strand ; he attempted to demolish S. Margaret's, Westminster, but the ancestors of my old parishioners (so ran the tradition) * rose and beat off his workmen.' 2 In S. Paul's he met less resistance. Already the chapel and charnel house in * the Pardon Churchyard ' had been pulled down, with the tombs on every side. Five hundred tons of bones had been carted away and buried in the fields about Finsbury. The churchyard was no sanctuary, but still this was a wanton sacrilege. What intolerable insult, what deep-rooted offence, to all those, the remains of whose ancestors and kindred were cast out into uncon- secrated ground, that most dreaded penalty of excom- munication ! The remorseless Protector now threw down the fine cloister within the precincts, and carried off the materials to Somerset House. Every month some of the splendours, which were the life of the old religion, ceased to dazzle and delight the worshipper. Processions were forbidden in the streets. 2 He is supposed by some to have vanity aspired to have the most splen- threatened the Abbey, and to have did palace in London, and he seized been bought off by the surrender of the materials wherever he could find a great mass of stone, which the Dean them with the greatest facility and at and Chapter had accumulated for re- the least cost. The demolition of the pairs. This is, I think, a mistake of Abbey walls would have been hard Somerset's motives, he had no wanton and expensive work, hostility to such buildings. His 222 SACRAMENT OF THE ALTAK. CHAP. The Whitsuntide offices of the Skinners' Company and ^ - the censing in S. Paul's were prohibited. Corpus Christi, the most sacred holiday, was openly profaned by persons working at their trades. Before this, on the second Sunday in Lent, after a sermon by Coverdale, and after high mass, ' the Sacra- ' ment of the Altar ' was pulled down by command of the Dean. On the 26th June came an order for the discon- tinuance of the Apostles' Mass and the Mass of Our Lady. There was to be no communion except at the high altar. On one act of the Reformers alone, no doubt, the Grey Friar looked with complacency the act at which we shudder with horror. The Archbishop and the Commissioners sate in the Cathedral in judgment on some miserable Ana- baptists. One or two recanted, and bore their faggots. Poor Joan Bocher, who held some wild doctrines about the Incarnation of Our Lord, was condemned to the stake. In this trial of a crazy woman, alas ! Bishop Ridley took an active part. 3 All these changes might be condoned, and would find many in London who would heartily rejoice in them from baser or nobler motives. In remoter districts, among the peasants, the Commons, this sudden abruption of all the old religious usages, combined with other grievances, the enclosures, wrought the people to madness. Great part of the kingdom was in insurrection ; Devonshire and Cornwall and Norfolk in open rebellion. The city was startled with proclamations announcing danger, and by finding itself suddenly summoned to place itself in a state of defence. The Archbishop (Crannier) came hastily to S. Paul's, and, it is presumed, in a sermon, gave a long * The story of Ridley's consoling an afterthought, after Ridley had him- her by saying that ' after all burning self suffered that pain. ' was not so painful,' was manifestly BISHOP BONNER. 223 and terrible account of the insurrection, denounced the CHAP. IX audacity of men who dared to reform Reformers without A- authority, and to usurp the royal powers. It was re- marked that the Primate appeared without vestment or mitre or crozier, with a satin cap on his head, and ad- ministered the Sacrament (it is said with malignant satis- faction) to eight persons. The rebellion was crushed. On August 10 (1549), the Archbishop appeared again in the bishop's seat, arraign- ing Papal priests as the principal authors and fautors of the rebellion. Bishop Bonner, no doubt, heard what was preparing against him. After his release from prison, Bonner re- mained in his quiet seclusion at Fulham. On the 24th June, 1549, he received a letter from the Council. After hearty commendations, ' Having very credible notice that 1 within your Cathedral Church there be as yet the ' Apostles' Mass and Our Lady's Mass, and other masses ' of such peculiar names. . . . used in private chapels and ' other remote places of the same, and not in the chancel, 1 contrary to the King's Majesty's proceedings, the same ( being, for the misuse, displeasing to God ; for the place, * Paul's, in example not tolerable ; for the fondness of the ' name a scorn to the reverence of the Communion of the ' Lord's body and blood ;' the Council, ' for the augmen- ' tation of God's honour and glory,' absolutely interdict these offences, and lay down rules for the celebration of the Holy Communion, only to be celebrated at the high altar. The decree is signed by Somerset, Rich, Chancellor, and four others of the Council. Bonner quietly trans- mitted the letter, which he had just received by a pursui- vant, to the Dean and Chapter, with a letter from himself, recommending it to their attention. 4 4 Uugdale, Appendix, pp. 404, 405, from Wilkins, vol. iv. p. 34. 224 BONNER EXAMINED. CHAP. On August 1 7, Bishop Bonner appeared in the Cathe- ^ ' dral, and officiated (it must be presumed) according to the new usage, 'discreetly and sadly.' But such rare and reluctant acts of conformity did not allay the suspicions, or arrest the violence of Bonner's enemies. He must be deposed. It would be dangerous and embarrassing to leave a man of his ability, resolution, and subtlety in a place of so much influence and authority. Bonner was summoned before the Council. Severe animadversions were made on his unfrequent attendance at the services of the Cathedral, in which he had heretofore officiated with zealous regularity. He was accused of appearing stealthily at foreign masses and still unreformed cere- monials. He was ordered to reside in his palace near S. Paul's, to discharge all the duties of bis function, espe- cially to officiate in the Cathedral on every high festival, and to administer the Communion, of course in the new form. He was to proceed against all who did not frequent Common Prayer and receive the Sacrament, and against those who went to mass. Beyond all this, he was com- manded to preach on subjects, chosen with malicious in- genuity, if possible, to implicate him with at least tacit approval of the late rebellion, and to assert those doctrines which he was known, in his heart and conscience, to repudiate. He was to declare the heinousness of wilful rebellion as incurring eternal damnation, especially the guilt of the western insurgents, who were to have their portion with Lucifer, the father and first author of dis- obedience, ' whatever masses of holy water soever they went * about to pretend.' 5 He was to urge the awful examples * Mr. Froude (vol. v. p. 184, 185) ancestor, seems hardly to observe the gives, from the Records of the Council, barbarous iniquity of the procedure, the injunctions about the topics of Verily if anything can excuse Bonner, this sermon. Ridley (Life of Ridley, it is this persecution. p. 281), in his blind veneration for his BONNER DEPOSED. 225 of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, and that of Saul, reiected CHAP. IX because he spared the sheep for sacrifice, and thereby be- s_ ,J trayed his disobedience to God. He was to aver that vital religion consisted only in prayer to God, that rites and ceremonies might be altered at the command of the magis- trate ; therefore if any man persisted in the Latin service, his devotion was valueless on account of his disobedience. On September 1, Bonner ascended the pulpit at Paul's Cross, with a vast assemblage at his feet. He touched on the chief points contained in the instructions. But his watchful enemies observed that he eluded one, which was held to be the test of Popish and disloyal sentiments that the King was to be as implicitly obeyed, as being no less King when a minor, and not of full age. In one word, he was to acknowledge distinctly and deliberately the royal authority of the Council. The rest of his sermon was on the corporal presence in the Eucharist. He asserted Tran- substantiation in the strongest terms, with many sharp aspersions on those who held the opposite doctrine. Bonner could hardly expect a favourable result. He was committed to the Tower, and remained a prisoner till the close of the reign. The See of London was declared vacant. The degradation of Bonner is described with his usual simplicity, and latent significance, by the Grey Friar : ' On ' the 1st day of November the Bishop of London was sent * for at afternoon to Lambeth, and then the Archbishop of ' Canterbury discharged the said Bishop of London, as much ' as lay in his power. But mark what follows. On the 7th ' day of October was proclaimed the Lord Protector Traitor.' In the name of the Protector Somerset had issued all the injunctions so odious to the adherents of the old religion. He was answerable for what to them was the iniquity and the sin of the Eeformation, ' and the 14th day, at after- ' noon, the traitor was brought from Windsor to the Q 226 RIDLEY, BISHOP OF LONDON. CHAP. 'Tower.' 6 But at his own desire Somerset was brought __^_. round by St. Giles-in-the-Fields. He would not pass the dilapidated churches which in his pride he had pulled down, nor the Cathedral of S. Paul, the precincts of which he had violated and plundered. It was not till the April of the following year (1450), that the new Bishop of London, Nicolas Eidley, Bishop of Rochester, was installed in the Cathedral. Bishop Ridley's first act was ominous of his future proceedings. Before he would enter the choir, he commanded the lights on the altar to be extinguished. Ridley was a man of the highest character for erudition and blamelessness of life. He had been head of Pembroke Hall in Cambridge, and had re- tired to Germany. Soon after the accession of Edward VI., he had been appointed Bishop of Rochester. The only act of Ridley's which up to this time we would repudiate his concern in the burning of crazy Joan Bocher in those days raised rather than lowered him in general estima- tion. Ridley was unmarried. There are some pleasing anecdotes of the courtesy and amenity of his domestic life. The relations of Bishop Bonner, his mother and sister, continued to reside at Fulham. They were constant and welcome guests at Ridley's hospitable table. The place of honour was always reserved for ' our mother, Bonner.' But now the wort of Reformation, or as some even in our own day, looking on it in a point of view then im- possible, would call it, deformation and spoliation, went on with rapidity. Already in S. Paul's the chantries and obits had been confiscated. The rood-lofts had disappeared. The crucifix had vanished from every part of the church. The images of the Saviour and of the saints no longer looked down on the worshippers. On the night of S. Barnabas Day (by the command of the Lord Mayor no Grey Friar, p. 64. ABOLITION OF HOLIDAYS. 227 longer kept up as a holiday), the altar was pulled down, CRAP. the table set up in its place, and a curtain drawn to ex- , . elude the non-communicants. On the following Sunday the Communion was administered at the table in the new form. At Christmas the procession of the chief singers was discontinued. On March 24 (1450-1), the doors at the side of the altar were closed up. The table was more than once moved. At one time it stood north and south, but not always. 7 It was afterwards removed (the accounts do not quite agree) lower down ' where the priests sang.' The Dean, William May, officiated constantly during these changes. The holidays, so frequent in old times, were either abolished or fell into disuse, the Cathedral setting the example. Yet on the holidays still observed, on every afternoon Bishop Eidley preached. By Ridley's order the day of S. George, the patron saint of England, remained unhonoured and unregarded. The three days held sacred to the Blessed Virgin the Conception, the Purification, and the Ascension 8 were in some places devoutly and pertinaciously maintained, in others openly profaned. On September 3rd came directions from the Dean, William May, who was at a Visitation of the Archbishop at Cam- bridge, to discontinue the organ. By one account orders were given for the removal of the organ. But if such orders were issued, they were not enforced. The organ was used on the accession of Queen Mary to peal out immediately the thanksgiving Te Deum. It is said much later to have been in peril, during the great fire in the Cathedral in the fourth year of Queen Elizabeth. On 7 Stowe, p. 308. ' wylle ys, for this was the second 8 ' On the Assumption of Our Lady ' yere ; and also the same division was ' was great division thorow all London. ' at the Feast of the Nativitie of Our ' Some kept holiday and some none. ' Lady.' Grey Friar, p. 67. ' Almighty God helpe it when His Q2 228 THE LITUEGY. CHAP. October 24, there was a general demolition of the altars IX ^- ' and chapels throughout the church ; and it should seem among the tombs, such at least as were shrines for public worship. ' All the goodly stonework behind the high ( altar, with the seats for the priests, the Dean, and the ' Sub-Dean, were remorselessly cut and hacked away. ' An order from the Court alone saved the magnificent ' monument of John of Gaunt, the only royal tomb, except- t ing those of one or two of the doubtful Saxon kings, in < the Cathedral.' 9 What became of S. Erkenwald ? On Allhallows Day began the book of the new service at S. Paul's, that beautiful liturgy which had gradually grown into its present form, and was now, if not abso- lutely, nearly complete. That liturgy has ever since, for above three centuries with one brief and immediate in- terruption, another at a later period been read in all our churches : that liturgy, with some few imperfections (and what human composition is without imperfections?), the best model of pure, fervent, simple devotion, the distilla- tion, as it were, and concentration of all the orisons which have been uttered in the name. of Christ, since the first days of the Gospel : that liturgy which is the great example of pure vernacular English, familiar, yet always unvulgar, of which but few words and phrases have be- come obsolete; which has an indwelling music which enthrals and never palls upon the ear, with the full living expression of every great Christian truth, yet rarely hardening into stern dogmatism ; satisfying every need, and awakening and answering every Christian emo- tion ; entering into the heart, and, as it were, welling forth again from the heart; the full and general voice of the congregation, yet the peculiar utterance of each single worshipper. From this time our Church ceased 9 Grey Friar, p. 76. FIEST ANGLICAN SEEVICE AT S. PAUL'S. 229 to speak in a language ' not understanded ' of the people, CHAP our English fully asserting its powers of expressing in r l its own words the most profound and awful verities of our religion, the most ardent aspirations of the soul to com- munion with the unseen. On this memorable day the Bishop, Ridley, read the prayers and preached in the choir, it was observed, with no vestment but the rochet; the Priests, the Dean, and the Prebendaries wore their surplices and university caps and hoods. The Bishop preached in the afternoon at Paul's Cross. But the time for delight in interminable sermons was not come. The Mayor and Aldermen, weary of long standing, then usual, even with those dignitaries, at Paul's Cross, quietly stole away it was near five o'clock (the sermon can hardly have begun later than three) and did not enter the Church again. We have already enquired what became of the discarded vestments, and the other ornaments of the old splendid ceremonial. They were too rich a prey to escape the rapacious Government. On the 25th May (1453) came the Commissioners, with the Lord Chief Justice and the Lord Mayor, to make the last remorseless sweep of these riches, and seized to the King's use all the treasures of the Church, even the plate, leaving but a scanty stock of less precious vessels for the simpler services. The Ritualist of our day may read in Dugdale if he can read for tears of fond but vain regret the pages which recount the gorgeous robes, the chasubles, copes, and other purple and gold and embroidered attire, once the possession, once the raiment, of the clergy of S. Paul's. Bishop Ridley, indeed, strove, not without success, to rescue, not these treasures, but endowments for religious and charitable foundations, from the hands of the needy Government and the rapacious nobles. He extorted the foundation and endowment of 230 DEMOLITION OF OKNAMENTS. CHAP. Bridewell Hospital for the houseless poor, and threw it ^- ' open to the city- an act (remarkable in those days) of wise charity, which by no means stands alone in these periods of prodigal and almost lawless rapine. To the reign of Edward VI. and in great part to the influence of Bishop Eidley, belongs the noble foundation of Christ's Hospital. We read these seemingly wanton demolitions, desecra- tions, 1 spoliations, with indignation, sorrow, and shame. Yet are we not unjust to those to whom we owe so deep, so incalculable a debt of gratitude ? Many of these obser- vances, much of the garniture of the august ceremonials, much of the rich architectural shrine-work, much of the splendid decorations of the churches, which to us may be the incentives, the language, and expression of genuine spiritual piety, to the Reformers were part and portion an inseparable part and portion of that vast system of debasing superstition, of religious tyranny, of sacerdotal domination, the intolerable yoke of which it was their mis- sion to burst, if they would open to themselves and to the world the realm of religious freedom and true Christianity. There are higher things than Gothic fretwork or ' storied ' windows richly dight ' truth, pure worship, and, last- born, Christian tolerance and charity. If the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ was to be revealed to mankind, there must first be ejected from the Temple the crowd of subordinate objects of worship, which had ob- scured and repelled to an unapproachable distance the one centre of adoration God through Christ and in Christ. 1 I must not suppress the scene he had married, and made her an perhaps the most disgraceful to the allowance, on the public dissolution Reformation, the divorce of Poynet, of the connection. This took place Bishop of Winchester a writer of in S. Paul's on July 27, 1551, and is much power and influence on that side recorded, both by the Grey Friar and from a butcher's wife, whom it seems by Robert Machyn, under the date. THE EEFOEM-EKS. 231 If the priesthood from gods as they sometimes called them- CHAP. selves, with the power of making God, of materialising him, > , even to the grossest form ; if the priesthood, the infallible awarders of everlasting death and everlasting life, were to shrink into instructors of the people, examples to the people, and ministers of the two Holy Sacraments ; if the trade in religion, which had flourished at its height in the Cathedral of S. Paul's, was to be cast forth, and the re- ligion of Paul the Apostle to be restored in the Church of S. Paul, in all its power, majesty, wisdom, authority : great changes were inevitable. If in these changes the Reformers knew not where to arrest their zeal; if they were overborne by men whose motives and aims were not reformation, but spoliation not the reinstatement of the true faith and pure morality of Christianity, but unblush- ing rapacity and immoral love of plunder the Church was paying the penalty for ages of all-absorbing accumu- lation of dangerous, too tempting wealth. If the Reformers saw not how or where to draw the fine and floating and long obscured line between religion and superstition, who shall dare to arraign them ? While the old system appealed almost entirely to the senses, and but remotely to the conscience, they would address the con- science alone, which must now in each individual assume the sole perilous responsibility for the soul. They unwisely no doubt disdained all lawful, innocent, rational, and sub- servient emotions of the senses. Yet if the Reformers were blind to the intimate union of the Beautiful with the Good and the True, surely this was pardonable in the first shock and convulsion of the old and new creeds. If Ridley inclined to Puritanism ; if in the gradual but rapid expansion of his mind to the dawning truths, his zeal went beyond the calmest wisdom, let us remember his saintly life, his intrepid martyrdom. 232 REIGN OF QUEEN MARY. CHAPTER X. S. PAUL'S UNDER QUEEN MART. CHAP. THEEE years of Ridley's episcopate had not passed over, _ V _.^ when came the terrible days of reaction. Mary was on the throne, Bonner was again Bishop of London. S. Paul's beheld the Mass reinstated, at least in some degree of splendour ; the choir resounded with Latin chants Latin became again the language of prayer. Paul's Cross rung with denunciations with more than denunciations with awful sentences of death against the Reformers. In evil hour, either from fanatic zeal for Protestantism, or a victim to the arts of the subtle Northumberland possibly from some ardent admiration for the yet un- developed, yet to those familiar with her, the felt and ac- knowledged beauty and holiness of character, of the Lady Jane Grey, as nearly approaching to the perfect young Christian female as could well be imagined, and therefore a sore temptation to wild hopes Ridley threw himself desperately into the Anti-Marian faction. He preached a sermon at Paul's Cross; he denounced both the sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, as bastards. The congregation heard him with undisguised disgust. It has been alleged in excuse for Ridley that he preached by order of the Council an excuse which degrades him from a bold and con- scientious zealot to the miserable slave and tool of a faction. His subsequent conduct did as little honour to his courage, or to the sense of his dignity of station and KIDLEY'S FALL. 233 character. He stole away to Cambridge to throw him- CHAP. self at the feet of the now triumphant Mary. He was , received with the contempt which he deserved, brought ignominiously back to London, and committed to the Tower. Had his course ended there, had he been exe- cuted for high treason, he would hardly have commanded pity. The cold misjudging cruelty it was no mercy of Mary and her Councillors gave Bidley the opportunity of redeeming at Oxford those days of lamentable weakness. Instead of the disregarded death of a traitor, they gave him the glory of a martyr : and nobly did Ridley accept the gift. By his self-command during his long and weary trial, the calm serenity of his death, he showed an in- effaceable, inextinguishable greatness, which equalled the homely contempt of death in honest old Latimer, and contrasted strongly with the timid tergiversation of Cranmer. More of this hereafter. S. Paul's repudiated her disloyal Bishop. At the pro- clamation of Queen Mary the bells rang out in peals, which almost drowned the clangors from the towers of the other churches in London. The Lords marched in solemn array to the Cathedral. Te Deum was sung ; the organ, for some time condemned to silence, broke out with its full majestic mass of sound. On the Queen's procession from the Tower to the coronation at Westminster, S. Paul's steeple had its pageant. To rival the feat at Edward's accession, a Dutchman stood on the cross, waving a long streamer, and shifting from one foot to another, amid a blaze of torches, which he brandished over his head. In London, nevertheless, the doctrines and the passions of the Reformation had sunk deeper than elsewhere into the minds and hearts of the people. At the first sermon at Paul's Cross, Dr. Bourne, the preacher, not only prayed for the dead, but denounced the incarceration of Bonner 234 EIOT AT PAUL'S CKOSS. CHAP, in that 4 vile prison, the Marshalsey,' and inveighed ^^ strongly against Bishop Eidley. There was a cry, 'He ( preaches damnation ; pull him down, pull him down.' A dagger was thrown at the preacher, which struck one of the side posts of the pulpit. 1 Happily Bradford, well known as a devout Protestant, stepped forth before the preacher, and reminded the unruly mob, of S. Paul's command ' to be subject to the higher powers.' 2 But the fray did not cease ; it threatened more violence. The ob- noxious preacher was at length rescued by Bradford, and Rogers, then a canon of S. Paul's. He was conveyed in safety to S. Paul's School. The presence of the Lord Mayor and of Lord Courtenay somewhat repressed the tumult. 3 The Privy Council was sitting in the Tower. Order was taken with the Lord Mayor to keep the peace and punish the offenders. One Humphrey Pullen was committed to the Compter ; Bradford, Veron, and Beacon were sent to the Tower as seditious preachers. Two days after, a priest and a barber were set in the pillory at S. Paul's Cross, with their ears nailed to it. The priest seems to have 1 Aug. 13. Graf ton; Sto we. Accord- funerals and everything relating to ing to Machyn (p. 41), Bourne was funerals hearses, catafalques, ban- parson of High Ongar, in Essex, ners, scutcheons, armorial bearings, ' There was shouting at the sermon as wax tapers, attendants he luxuriates ' it were like mad people ;' and he adds with true professional delight and ' that if the Lord Mayor and Lord copiousness ; on other occurrences he ' Courtenay had not been there, there is simple, brief, and seemingly trust- ' would have been great mischief.' He worthy. Machyn's Diary was par- says nothing of Kogers and Bradford. tially published by Strype in his But Machyn was of the religion ' Annals,' the whole among the publi- which had the finest processions ' (p. cations of the Camden Society. 44). . 3 Note to Machyn with authorities. * The Grey Friar is succeeded by Machyn's text is imperfect, and it is another diarist, as keenly observant not quite clear whether there were of and, though from different motives, not two priests, nor what was the as diligent in recording all the events punishment of the parson of S. Ethel- in S. Paul's. Robert Machyn was burga. what we call an undertaker. On SERMONS AT PAUL'S CROSS. 235 been the parson of St. Ethelburga ; he was condemned for CHAP, seditious words against the Queen's Majesty, and for the - V uproar at the Cross. On August 26th, Watson, chaplain of Bishop Gardiner, preached. 4 Among a great assembly the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, all the crafts in London in their best livery ' sitting on forms ' 5 were Courtenay and the Marchioness of Exeter, but it was thought necessary that a strong guard should attend; the pulpit was encircled by their halberds. A few days after in the Cathedral mass was said, matins and vespers chanted in Latin. The crucifix took its place, probably on a temporary rood-loft. In a short time came forth a proclamation inhibiting the English Service. On the Sunday before the Queen's Coronation, 6 Dr. Feckenham (afterwards successively Dean of St. Paul's, and then of Westminster) preached undisturbed a ' goodly sermon ' at Paul's Cross. 7 But later, October 2nd, when Dr. Weston, Dean of Windsor, preached, strong barriers were erected at every entrance into the churchyard, to prevent the concourse of horses and of people. 8 Dr. Bourne more than a month later, on S. Andrew's Day, preached in security in the Cathedral, with a great procession amid ' Ora pro nobis ' in Lathi. The day after, Nicolas Harpsfield preached with a great procession, and chants in Latin. 9 Before this Machyn's heart had been gladdened by a ' goodly sermon, November 26, by M. White, warden of ( Paul's, that we should have processions. On the 24th * was a very gorgeous procession while the new Lord Mayor 4 Machyn, p. 41. See on Watson's Machyn, p. 49. On the 19th, how- sermon, Notes to Machyn. ever, he preached at the same church 4 There was a pageant in ' PowlTs ' the goodliest sermon that ever was ' Churchyard on occasion of the Coro- ' heard of the Blessed Sacrament.' 'nation.' Machyn, p. 43. 7 Machyn, p. 46. Machyn, p. 44. Later, when 8 Ibid. p. 49. Feckenham preached at S. Stephen's, Ibid. p. 49. Walbrook, there was a disturbance. 236 RESTORATION OF BOKNER. CHAP. * went to Westminster. After dinner, they marched to S. S 1^1 . ' Paul's, banners waving, waits and trumpet blowing, all * throughout the church, and so back to the Lord Mayor's.' * On November 25 was St. Katherine's Day (we presume the patron saint of the Queen's mother, Katherine of Ara- gon) : * they of S. Paul's went in procession about Paul's ' steeple with great lights, before them Saint Katherine, f and singing almost half an hour, and when all was done ' they rang all the bells of Paul's.' On January 25 (S. Paul's Daj) was another goodly procession with fifty copes of cloth of gold, with ( Salve, festa dies,' and a solemn mass. Still later however, when a Dr. Pendleton preached at Paul's Cross, a gun was fired at him ; the bullet was found, but not the culprit. 1 One of the first acts of the new reign was, of course, the release of Bonner, who at once resumed his see as dispossessed by no lawful authority. He came forth from the Marshalsea in all the state -of a bishop. Eleven bishops brought him to his palace at S. Paul's. There was a great concourse of the people, shouting ' Welcome home,' and as many women as could kissed him. 2 He knelt in prayer on the steps of the Cathedral. Were Bonner's prayers that he might have strength to forgive his ene- mies? He hardly disguised his determination to wreak vengeance on the usurper of his see. He spoke of Eidley with bitter contempt. On December 8, my lord of London ordered a solemn procession at S. Paul's. When all was done, my lord issued his mandate that every parish church should pro- vide a staff and cope to go in procession every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, and pray unto God for fine weather through London. 3 1 Machyn, p. 66. ' place in the Marshalsea that the 2 Aug. 5. Stowe. Machyn, p. 39. ' bishop was in.' He adds, 'Dr. Cox went to the same * Machyn, pp. 49, 50. CONVOCATION AT S. PAUL'S. 237 October 18, 1553, Convocation assembled in S. Paul's. CHAP. Weston, Dean of Westminster, was chosen prolocutor of - ^ the Lower House. Weston began by denouncing the pestiferous Catechism and abominable Book of Common Prayer. For six days there was a long and obstinate disputation on the Real Presence in the Eucharist. The Reformers petitioned that Ridley and Rogers, on whose learning and powers of argument they chiefly relied, might be released from prison, to bear their part in the debate. This being refused, the main burden of the dispute on that side devolved on Philpot. The Queen dissolved the Convocation by a mandate addressed to Bonner. To Bonner also, as vicegerent (the Archbishop being in prison), was addressed the summons to the Convocation in the ensuing year (1554). In that Convocation (to anticipate) Bonner made an oration on the priesthood, with a comparison of the priesthood to the Virgin Mary, to our ears so strange, coarse, almost indecent, that we wonder that even in those days it could be uttered and endured. 4 S. Paul's witnessed the triumph of reascendant Roman Catholicism, the guarantee for which was the marriage with Philip of Spain. S. Paul's gave two of the noblest martyrs to its vengeance. On July 29, A.D. 1554 (the marriage had been solemn- ised), Nicholas Harpsfield, one of the most distinguished and powerful champions of the old religion, preached at Paul's Cross. In his bidding prayer he named Philip and Mary, by the grace of God, King and Queen of England, France, Naples, Jerusalem, and Ireland, Defenders of the Faith, Princes of Spain and Sicily, Archdukes of Austria, Dukes of Milan, Burgundy, and Brabant, Counts of Flanders, Hapsburg, and Tyrol. 4 Fox, vol. iii. p. 41, folio edit. This can hardly have been the inven- tion of Fox. 238 RESTORATION OF THE ROOD. CHAP. Preparation must be made for the reception of the King ; r the Rood must be set up in all its dignity. Bonner, in his full state, and all his prebendaries, assembled in the choir. The Eood lay on the pavement, the doors were closed. The Bishop and Clergy chanted certain prayers, they all crept towards the Cross and kissed it. It was then weighed up and stood in its accustomed place. Te Deum was sung, and the bells rang out a jubilant peal. 5 There was at that time, what might seem a kind of set- off against the exposure of the Nun of Kent. The Re- formers too had their miserable superstitions, which must be publicly put to shame. A foolish girl had spoken from a wall, and whistled, in Aldersgate Street. On July 6, a sermon was preached by a prebendary of S. Paul's. A scaffold had been raised, on which the girl was exhibited. She confessed that she had been set on by John Drake, a servant of Sir Robert Knevett ; she wept bitterly, and implored the mercy of God and the Queen. She warned the people of false teaching, and acknowledged that she had been bribed ' with goodly gifts.' The more serious affair, the rebellion of Wyatt, so madly designed, so wildly conducted, so entirely and mer- cilessly crushed, had not approached and therefore does not concern S. Paul's, except that there was a solemn thanksgiving for its suppression. On September 30, Bishop Gardiner preached at Paul's Cross before the largest assemblage ever gathered there. This sermon was chiefly on charity, with a digression (strange transition !) on heresy. He exhorted the people to receive King Philip, now the Queen's husband, that most ' perfect Prince.' On October 18, the * perfect Prince ' rode down with a retinue of Lords from Westminster to Machyn, p. 67. Fox. CARDINAL POLE IN S. PAUL'S. 239 S. Paul's, Lord Montagu bearing the sword before him. CHAP. He was received at the West door and was conducted - V under a canopy up the nave. He heard mass sung by a Spaniard. 6 On the second Sunday in Advent there was a more A.D. 1554. stately ceremonial, the reception in the Cathedral of Cardinal Pole. The Legate of the Pope and the Priests and Clerks were in their most gorgeous attire (such at least as had escaped confiscation, or had been supplied by the munificence of the day), with new copes and crosses. The city guilds were in their most spendid liveries, the Lord Mayor and Aldermen at their head. The Lord Chancellor, Gardiner, with the other Bishops, assembled at the Bishop of London's palace. The Cardinal arrived by water from. Lambeth, at nine o'clock, at Baynard's Castle. He was received by the Lord Mayor, and conducted to the Cathedral preceded by a cross and two magnificent pillars of silver. At the Cathedral he was met by the Lord Chancellor and the Bishops. They moved in procession to the choir, and took their seats. At ten o'clock arrived the King for the morning mass, with 100 English, 100 Spanish, 100 German guards, and a vast retinue of nobles and knights. The Queen's choir and the choir of S. Paul's chanted the services. Such an audience was never before seen in the Cathedral. They listened in the most profound silence. Not a whisper was heard. Gardiner preached on the text * Brethren, now is the time to awake ' from sleep.' As S. Paul exhorted the Romans to cast away the darkness, so was it time for England, who had slept for twenty years in darkness, to awake to the light. He enlarged on the miseries brought on the whole nation by detestable heresies, so that his audience groaned and 8 Machyn, p. 72. 7 Stowe ; Machyn ; and Notes for other Authorities, Nov. 24, 1554. 240 GARDINER'S SERMON. CHAP. wept. The chief heresy was the renunciation of the ^ Papal Supremacy. The Bishop-Chancellor passed over with quiet effrontery his own share in that worst of here- sies ; not a word on the ' Book of True Obedience/ Bonner, no doubt, on his throne, forgot with equal ease his own famous preface to that famous book. Gardiner dwelt on the gracious mission of the Legate to reconcile erring England with the See of Rome ; on the magna- nimity of the great and wealthy King, who, from the most hearty love to her Highness the Queen, had left his own realm and country to strengthen her power and secure her kingdom : ' Verily this is the day of the Lord.' The same month, but few days after, 8 an injunction from the Bishop of London was duly published for a procession and Te Deum. The glorious intelligence was announced that a child, a son of course, was about to be born to Mary, who should complete and perpetuate the submission of England to the true faith. Again (A.D. 1555), rather later in the year, as the heir of such exalted hopes and of such irresistible prayers was about to appear, S. Paul's rang with a gratulant thanksgiving. The altar of the Virgin, the giver of this special grace, was, no doubt, beset with devout worshippers, and loaded with splendid offer- ings. The Day of the Conception of the Blessed Virgin (December 7) was kept with extraordinary honour, by the Spaniards at the Savoy, and, doubtless, by the English at S. Paul's. On January 25 (S. Paul's Day), 9 again a pro- cession set forth from S. Paul's, followed by many parish priests and clerks in copes, to the number of 160, with ninety crosses, chanting ' Salve, festa dies.' Alas, vain prayers ! vain processions ! On the last of April (1555), tidings came to London that the Queen's Grace was delivered of a prince. The bells 8 Nov. 29. Machyn, p. 77. Machyn, p. 78. . JOHN KOGERS. 211 of S. Paul's led the joyful clamour, followed by the other CHAP, churches, and in divers places was Te Deum sung. ' And - _ . ' _ the morrow after,' writes our diarist with sad simpli- city, * it was turned other ways to the pleasure of God. c But it shall be when it please God, and I trust that He * will remember the true servants that put their trust in * Him, when they call on Him.' If this was the test of their faith and trust, they were doomed to bitter disap- pointment ! Yet for this consummation more awful offerings, human holocausts, were offered, more terrible manifestations of their faith. S. Paul's gave two of the noblest victims to the Marian persecution, her Bishop Ridley, and a Canon of her Chap- ter, the worthy protomartyr of the English Church, John Rogers. John Rogers was a priest of the old religion : he had held the benefice of Trinity the Less, near London Bridge. Whether the new opinions had then dawned upon his mind, we know not, but he accepted the chaplaincy to the Merchant Adventurers at Antwerp. At Antwerp he be- came closely connected with Tyndale, the translator of the Bible. There too he married a well-born lady of the country, named Vandermeulen. He resided some time in Germany, and came into communication with some of the German Reformers. He seems, however, to have returned to Antwerp, and on the arrest and cruel death of Tyndale, the chief care of his great work devolved on Rogers, whether as translator, or editor, or commentator, or as combining all these functions. There is no doubt that the first complete English Bible came from Antwerp under his superintendence and auspices. It bore then, and still bears, the name of Matthews' Bible. Of Matthews, how- ever, no trace has ever been discovered. He is altogether a B 242 ROGERS. MATTHEWS. myth, and there is every reason for believing that the un- traceable Matthews was John Rogers. If so, Rogers was not only the protonaartyr of the English Church, but, with due respect for Tyndale, the protomartyr of the English Bible, which first came whole and complete from his hands. The fact rests on what appears the irrefragable testimony of his enemies. On his trial Kogers was arraigned as John Rogers alias Matthews. Whether he had any opportunity, desire, or power of protesting against this identification of himself with one peculiarly obnoxious to the ruling powers, appears not : as far as is known, he acquiesced in the appellation. Under this double name he stood before the Lord Chancellor and the Council. He no doubt owed his preferment and connection with S. Paul's to Bishop Eidley. He was a marked and active member of the Chapter (we have seen him interfering to protect Bourne from the tumultuous mob) ; he was a frequent and popular preacher. All this, but, above all, his concern with the dissemination of the English Bible will account for his being chosen as the first victim for the stake, and the remarkable barbarity with which he was treated. No one knew better than the sagacious Gardiner, that the root and strength and mainspring of the Reformation was the English Bible. But there were reasons why this should not be brought forward as the prominent charge, as the inexpiable oftence. Matthews' Bible had been dedicated by permission to the King Henry VIII. Its use had been commanded by royal proclamation and royal injunction. On the trial of Rogers in S. Mary Overy (South wark), (he had been imprisoned in Newgate), Gardiner the Chan- cellor (Southwark was in the diocese of the Bishop of Winchester) began the examination with the question of the Papal Supremacy. There was some skill in this. The Papal Supremacy covered and included all other questions. TRIAL OF ROGERS. 243 The Legate, Cardinal Pole, had now been received with CHAP, the highest honours, as representative of the Pope. In v_ ^ that character, as we have seen, he had been welcomed to S. Paul's, though Rogers doubtless was not present. The passive Parliament had submitted to the Legate's juris- diction, which to the vulgar seemed an absolution for the whole realm. The nation had been thus reconciled to Rome. But Gardiner thus, unwarily, gave an advantage to Rogers, which the dauntless man seized with consum- mate address : ' My lord, I do not believe that ye your- * selves do think in your hearts that he (the Pope) is the ' supreme head. . . . For ye, and all ye be of the realm, 1 have now twenty years long preached, and some of you * also (Gardiner, Bonner, Tunstall) writ to the contrary, * and the Parliament had so long ago condescended unto it.' Here Gardiner interrupted him, alleging that they were compelled to it by cruelty. ' Cruelty ! If 'twas hard that * your eminences were persuaded by cruelty, would you * have us persuaded by cruelty?' Gardiner shifted his ground to convict Rogers of spoken treason against the Queen. But Rogers had been singularly wise or cau- tious. Not like his rash or more fanatic Bishop, he had inveighed against the abuses and superstitions of the old religion, but of the Queen not a word, or words only of profound respect. The examination passed on to the Eucharist. But on the Eucharist Rogers had maintained prudent silence. He may appear hardly to have made up his mind on the mysterious subject. He seems to have held, like many Anglicans, the Real Presence spiritually conceived. 1 1 I quote the report of Rogers him- ' Life of Rogers,' by Colonel Chester, self, printed in Colonel Chester's ' Life ' is a work of love, collected with great (p. 206), from the Lansdowne MS. in industry and great fairness. (London, the British Museum, of the authenticity 1861.) The interest about John of which there seems no doubt. The Rogers in the United States (Massa- 244 MAETYEDOM OF EOGEES. But John Rogers might have preached against the power of the Pope, and the mediasval superstitions, Sunday after Sunday at Paul's Cross, or in the Cathedral, even if he had been gifted with the rude, honest, irresistible eloquence of old Latimer himself. He might have baffled with quiet irony and admirable presence of mind the subtle Gardiner, and the whole Council, without any profound or lasting effect upon the minds of men. It was by his cruel death, so nobly met, that he made an indelible impression on the feelings of the people. It was the martyrdom, and the circumstances of that martyrdom, that made so deep, so indelible an impression upon the English mind and soul. So strong was the popular ex- citement, that he was removed by night in secresy from S. Mary Overy to Newgate. As he was led from his prison to Smithfield, his wife and nine children (another was about to be born) stood watching his ' triumph,' almost with joyousness. With that wife and children he had been refused a parting interview, by Gardiner first, when in prison, by Bonner afterwards just before his execution for what had a consecrated priest to do with wife and children? John Rogers passed on, not as to his death, but as to his wedding. This is not the language of an admiring martyrologist, or a zeal-deluded Protestant, but of Noailles, the Catholic French ambassador. Rogers thus stamped into the heart of Englishmen that horror of papal cruelty, that settled aversion to the religion of Rome, which centuries of milder manners have not yet effaced, which has broken forth on occasions in fright- ful paroxysms, has obstinately resisted the admonitions of wisdom and charity. '~No Popery' became a household word, and has held asunder (alas ! too long) the unming-: chussets) is remarkable. Many per- line from the protomartyr. Colonel sons boast their descent by the female Chester is an American. BISHOP RIDLEY. 245 ling, or rarely mingling, sections of the English people, CHAP. who nevertheless both profess to worship Christ, and ^ to draw their faith and doctrines from the Gospel of Christ. The annals of S. Paul's must pursue their sad course through these dark times, though at a distance from the Cathedral. The scene of her Bishop Ridley's trial and sufferings at Oxford was, if possible, more public, more solemn, than that of Rogers. On his first imprison- ment Ridley had been treated with some gentleness and courtesy. Hopes might be well entertained, from charity by some, by others from far other motives, that, after his dastardly political tergiversation, Ridley might as lightly apostatise from his religious creed. His conversion was attempted by Feckenham, successively Dean of S. Paul's and of Westminster, one of the gentlest, and justly held to be among the ablest, of his party, with all the zeal but nothing of the hardness of the Inquisitor. But in his prison Ridley had thrown off all the narrower parts of his intellect, all the weaker parts of his character. The weakness of fanaticism which had made him. a traitor, the timidity which had made him a suppliant for mercy, had fallen away. In his conference with Feckenham, but far more eminently in his examination at Oxford, he stood forth in all the calm wisdom of a true Church Reformer, the quiet unshaken intrepidity of a Martyr. There ap- pears not an instant of wavering or irresolution. There is nothing defiant or passionate in his demeanour. He argues the great points of difference as if in a peaceful school, not as though his life and death hung on the issue. The disputation at Oxford was, perhaps, the crowning insult to justice and humanity. The disputants on one side had about as fair a chance as a bull in the ring, or a bear at the stake. They seem almost to have 246 RIDLEY'S TRIAL. CHAP, been held as wild beasts. Where, if such questions were ^ ' to be properly or reverently discussed in oral debate, there ought to have been the most perfect knowledge and strict observance of the powers and limits of human lan- guage (of which all were so profoundly ignorant, so utterly regardless, no two persons probably attaching precisely the same meaning to the most important terms), there the worst of ignorance, learned ignorance, was to decide, aided by the shouts of a rabble of monks, of monk- taught men, and boys monk-educated (if it may be called education?). Old Latimer was the wisest, who declined all contest, pleading his age and failure of memory. He was as fit ' to command the garrison of Calais, as to dis- * pute on the Real Presence.' But that which was wise and becoming in old Latimer would have been cowardice ; it would have been branded as apostasy, and the abandon- ment of principle, of faith, in Ridley. With a waste of undaunted courage and with perfect self-possession, he fought his desperate battle, so long as his conscience en- joined, no longer. It is almost a relief to turn from these vain struggles to the inevitable close at the stake. In that hour appeared, in all its native fulness, unchristian bigotry with its blind open assumption of the sole posses- sion of truth and its paramount sense of duty to extermi- nate what it proscribed as heresy, as treason against God, that fatal contagion which must be checked, lest it should spread among men. In that hour appeared -Christian resolution in its concentered majesty ; the tranquil glory of the martyr, already in anticipated possession of eternal life, yielding up his soul in calm confidence to his Re- deemer and his God. Yet even then are seen, on both sides, some of those strange, bewildering, contradictory incidents, which make us almost shudder, and almost smile, at the strength and weakness of human nature DEATH OF KIDLEY. 247 when wrought up by religious passion, that passion CHAP, believing itself to be Christian faith. Such is the scene -_ / __ of Ridley's degradation, where they forced upon him in order to strip them off the surplice with all the vest- ments of a Catholic priest, and so by this debasement to fit him for his burning. But this was more than Ridley could bear. Now only he loses his temper at the con- tamination of these vestments, and breaks out into invec- tive against that antichrist the Pope. On the other hand, at the execution the preacher, Dr. Smith of Whit- tington College, the spokesman of those who were thus burning their fellow-creatures, chooses for his text * Though I give my body to be burned, and have not * charity, it profiteth me nothing.' Ridley's last words are singularly and unaffectedly touch- ing. He utters a petition to the Queen in favour of some poor tenants of the see, whose leases he had renewed, but which Bonner had refused to confirm ; and on behalf of his sister (he had neither wife nor child) and her three fatherless children, left destitute by his death. As he read this part of the paper (thus writes the biographer of Ridley), * here * his tender affection brought tears into his eyes, so much * that for a little time he could not speak for weeping. ' When he had somewhat recovered himself he said, " This ' is nature that moveth me, but now I have done," and * proceeded to read the rest. And never perhaps, if we may * presume to judge, was uttered by dying man in more full * faith, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.'" 2 In the follow- ing pages of Machyn's Diary are these entries : ' The < 15th day of September did preach at Paul's (. . .), and he ' declared the Pope's jubilee and pardon from Rome, and ' as many as will receive the pardon so to be shriven and ' fast three days in one week, and to receive the blessed Ridley's Life of Ridley, p. 657. 248 BONNER IN POWER. CHAP. * Sacrament the next Sunday after, clear remission of their V ' ' sins toties quoties 3 of all that ever they did. . . (Octo- 4 ber 16) were burnt at Oxford for heresy, Dr. Latimer, ' late Bishop of Worcester, and Dr. Ridley, late Bishop of { London ; they were some time great preachers in their < day.' 4 If, in these dark days, Ridley was purified and exalted by adversity, the native brutality, of Bonner, which had been exasperated by his degradation and confinement, was maddened by his restoration to power and dignity, to an excess which shocked even his own party. It was nothing that he wrote insulting letters to Ridley. We may receive without suspicion some of the stories in Fox of his ungovernable rage. One day he actually struck a knight, Sir J. Jocelyn, a violent blow on the ear. The gentle Feckenham, Dean of S. Paul's, made an apology for the Bishop. f His long imprisonment in the Marshal- ' sea, and the miseries and hardships so altered him, that * in these passions he is not master of himself;' to which the Knight merely replied, ' ISTow that he is come forth of ( the Marshalsea, he is ready to go to Bedlam.' 5 Bonner had begun by issuing a monition to the Clergy of his diocese enforcing auricular confession. No one was to be admitted to the Holy Eucharist without a certificate of confession. They were to take care that the altars were prepared with books and vestments for the celebration of the mass. To Bonner were addressed the Queen's Articles, 3 Tossyens quossyens, p. 94. light at Stratford to the wife of one 4 Machyn, p. 95. Parsons, whom he called his fair 8 Fox, vol. iii. p. 106, folio edition, nurse, 'who played on the virginals as quoted at length. Fox relates, with exquisite skill.' No doubt Fox to the discredit of Bonner, one or two may darkly colour the Bishop's ungo- incidents, which show some lingering verned fury at the bells not ringing gentleness and humanity in Bonner, him in at Hadbam, and because in and to us relieve the harshness of his some place there was not proper pre- disposition ; his listening with de- paration for the mass. BONNER'S . ARTICLES OF INQUISITION. 249 in one of which the marriage of the Clergy was inhibited, CHAP. v the married Clergy commanded to dismiss their wives. - 'L,'- This act might be fully expected. Before long, however, Bonner assumed all the stern and searching authority of an Inquisitor a Spanish Inquisitor not the less odious and unpopular on account of the unpopularity of King Philip. Philip, however, it must be presumed rather from sagacious policy than from mercifulness of temper or habit, inclined to milder measures. Not content with the rigour which he exercised in his visitation, Bonner ap- pointed certain persons as a commission to inquire into and search out the lives and conduct of every clerk in his diocese, not only whether he was a brawler, scolder, hawker, hunter, fornicator, adulterer, drunkard, blas- phemer of God and his saints, but whether he had been married ; if married, and submitting to the stern law of putting away his wife, whether he kept up any clandestine intercourse with her ; whether his sermons were orthodox ; whether he associated with heretics ; whether he exhorted his parishioners to go to mass and to confession. The commissioners were to dive into the most internal secrets of the heart. No act of a clergyman, not even his dress or tonsure, not his most private moments, and hardly his thoughts, were to escape their prying vigilance. But the zeal of Bonner outstripped even the zeal of the Govern- ment. The Council interposed, as Bonner had acted with- out their authority. Bonner at first took a high tone of defiance ; but the city of London offered such resistance that he reluctantly and sullenly withdrew his injunctions. 6 All the splendid ceremonials, the processions, with which the Marian Bishops endeavoured to dazzle and win over the not reluctant populace, could not obliterate the feelings These Articles of Inquisition, in iv. p. 105. Compare Froude, vol. vi. English, may be read in Wilkins, vol. p. 257. 250 ROBEET MACHYN. CHAP, excited by those more dismal processions day after day to V - Smithfield. There is something absolutely appalling in the strange succession, the rapid alternation, of these scenes, as they appear in the diary of Robert Machyn, which records whatever took place in S. Paul's and in its neighbourhood: for the reek and smoke of the fires in Smithfield, if not always clearly discernible, must at times have been wafted towards the Cathedral. Page after page, there is the same shifting scene, the same wild con- trast of pomps and burnings. Machyn was disposed to look with an admiring eye on all ecclesiastical proces- sions, especially if they had to do with funerals. He is full of delight and wonder-stricken, not only by nodding hearses and emblazoned escutcheons, but with the long lines of copes and crosses which defile along the streets. All this is in strange relief with the apathetic fidelity with which he chronicles those drearier spectacles. It is ap- palling enough to read, though at such times mercy could not be expected to such rebels : ' The 7th day of February ' was commanded by the Queen and the Bishop of London ' that S. Paul's and every parish church should sing Te * Deum, and ring their bells for the great victory over ' Wyatt's insurrection. 7 On the 12th day a new pair of ' gallows were set up, fourteen in number, at each of the ' gates in London. On the 13th were hanging on these ' gallows many bodies, some quartered, some in chains, 7 Machyn records some curious cir- ' the cross in Cheap, habited in a gar- cumstances, indicating the feelings at ' ment similar to that the priest used least of some of the populace, in ' that said mass. She had a shaven themselves no doubt ludicrous yet ' crown, and in her forefeet held a nothing in those days could be ludi- ' piece of paper, made round, repre- crous, as all expressed and excited ' seuting the wafer. (Page 59.) On the furious passions of the day. ' On ' another day a crazy man (how crazed ' the same day (April 8), three days ' appears not) rushed forward and ' before the execution of Wyatt, ' hung two puddings round the neck ' somebody unknown and undetected, ' of an officiating priest.' Machyn, ' hanged a cat on the gallows beside p. 81. PEOCESSIONS AND BUKNINGS. 251 * and those quartered bodies and heads set on the gates of CHAP. * London.' But these were the gratulant rejoicings at sup- > ^ pressed rebellion the penalties of unsuccessful rebellion. On the 25th, S. Paul's Day, was the pomp already described, the mitred Bonner, with eight other Bishops, receiving the Legate Pole at the West door of the Cathedral, the King and his nobles and gorgeous retinue. ' On the 28th, 29th, and * 30th, Hooper, Crome, Rogers, Bradford, Saunders, cast * to be burned in divers places.' February 14th, Rogers was burned in Smithfield. The 9th of February were arraigned at S. Paul's before the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs, and the Bishop of London and divers Doctors of the Council, six heretics of Essex and Suffolk, to be burned in divers places. Just below, 8 ' March 8, a procession from S. Paul's ' through Cheapside and Bucklersbury, and so back through ' Watling Street to S. Paul's, the children of S. Paul's and ' the Hospital, the Bishop, the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, ' and all the crafts, and all the priests and clerks singing.' On May 25th ' was arraigned at S. Paul's for heresy, * before the Bishop, Master Cardmaker, sometime Vicar * of S. Bride's in Fleet Street, one John Warren, a cloth- ' maker in Walbrook, and cast to be burned, and carried ' back to Newgate.' The 24th May was a goodly procession of the children of the Hospital (Christ's) and all the schools in London. The 30th May, was burned in Smith- field Master Cardmaker, Master Warren, an upholsterer. 9 The last act of this terrible tragedy occurred later in the year. On the 23rd August was burned at Stratford le Bow, in Middlesex, the wife of John Warren (burned with Cardmaker), and the same woman had a son, taken at her burning, and carried to Newgate to his sister. 1 On June 1 7th, were performed at S. Paul's the obsequies of the Machyn, p. 82. 9 Ibid. p. 92. ' borne boyth.' The sense is very 1 Machyn adds, 'for they will uncertain. (Pago 93.) 252 PROCESSIONS AND BURNINGS. CHAP. Queen of Spain. Machyn describes the magnificence of , ' ,.* this ceremony in the most rapturous language, with all its pride and circumstances. In July went on to Smithfield to be burned, Master Bradford, a great preacher in King Edward's days, and a tallow-chandler's 'prentice, dwell- ing by Newgate, with a great concourse of people. Machyn duly chronicles all the godly sermons preached at the Cross and in the Cathedral. Bonner does not appear as a frequent preacher. Harpsfield seems to be the preacher most admired, at least by Machyn. After all these serious and tragic events within and with- out the Cathedral, we are startled by an announcement which I almost tremble to repeat, yet too characteristic of the times to be suppressed. A certain Sir Walter le Baud, in the reign of Edward I., gave to the Dean and Chapter of S. Paul's, annually on the day of the Conversion of S. Paul, a fat doe, and on the day of S. Paul, in the sum- mer, a fat buck, from his estate in Essex. These gifts were always received at the West door of S. Paul's, conducted without, about, within the Church up to the high altar with noisy merriment. 4 On the last of June, Saint Paul's ' Day, was a goodly procession at Saint Paul's. There was * a priest of each parish in the diocese of London, with a * cope, and the Bishop of London wearing his mitre, and ' after came a fat buck, and his head with his horns ' borne upon a pole, and forty horns blowing before the ( beast and behind.' 2 Imagine Bonner mitred in the midst of this strange tripudiation. Pleasant relaxation from burning heretics ! Have we not got back to our Diana worship ? August 15, And yet, before the close of Mary's reign, there was another gorgeous procession at S. Paul's, to celebrate King Philip's victory at S. Quentin. A commandment came 2 Machyn, p. 141. Anno 1557. PROCESSIONS AND BURNINGS/ 253 for the Clergy of all the churches to meet at S. Paul's in CHAP. their copes. They marched round Paul's Cross, where ^ they were joined by the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, and all went to the Cathedral. The sermon was preached at Paul's Cross by Harpsfield, Archdeacon of London. It was the day of the Assumption of the Virgin. No doubt Harpsfield dwelt on our Lady's gracious intercession ; he declared the number of the prisoners, and the noble men they were. At night there was ringing of bells in all the churches, bonfires in all the streets of London. The last year of Mary- began, and the last of Pole. There is a tradition boasted by one party, accepted by the other, of Pole's lenity to the Reformers. Yet there is a document from the register of Pole, signed with Pole's seal, in which five persons, John Cornford of Wrotham, Christopher Browne of Maidstone, John Hurst of Ashford, Catherine Knight of Shoreham, Alice Smith of Beddenden, are ar- raigned and made over to the secular arm, the euphemism for consigning them to the flames. 3 This was the miserable subterfuge by which the Church enjoyed the satisfaction of burning its enemies, and, as it was thought, eluded the defilement of their blood. Certainly Pole, Primate and Legate of the Pope, did not interfere to check his suffragan Bonner in his barbarous course. More than this : there is a royal brief, of which Pole, as head of the Council, could not but be cognisant, addressed to Bonner. * Since * our Reverend Father in Christ, Edmond Bishop of Lon- ' don, lawfully proceeding, and according to his office in ' causes of heretical pravity, has pronounced and declared ' certain manifest heretics, and delivered them to the * secular arm, we (Philip and Mary) do, willing to extir- * pate root and branch such heretics from our kingdom, ' adjudge such heretics, according to the law and custom * Wilkins, vol. iv. p. 194. 254 DEATH OF POLE. CHAP. ( of our kingdom, to be burned with fire ; we command ^ _ V _^ ' such heretics to be really burned with fire in public ' view.' 4 This, if the date is correct, was on Nov. 13, 1558. On Nov. 1 7, Mary died. Was this her last act, this recog- nition of all Bonner's terrible sentences ? And of the sen- tences against the heretics who suffered in the flames, far the largest number were promulgated and carried into effect in the diocese of London. Bonner, however, can hardly have exercised these new and extended powers. Two days after died Cardinal Pole. 4 Wilkins, vol. iv. p. 177- From Fox. ELIZABETH. 255 CHAPTEE XL S. PAUL'S UNDER QUEEN ELIZABETH. THE magnificent procession for the proclamation of Queen CHAP. Elizabeth might console (he witnessed it) and perhaps ^ gladden the heart of Eobert Machyn, for he was glad- dened by all processions, even those not funereal. Under Elizabeth the Church of England was to take its new form. But what that form was to be ; what was to be the outward, to a certain extent the inward, Christianity of England, lay yet in the unfathomed, if not unfathom- able, future ; in that hardly less unfathomed depth of the Queen's mind, of that of her counsellors, of that of Eng- land itself, rent, it might seem, with irreconcilable schisms. Who would be the ecclesiastical rulers, who the ministers in the churches ? what would be the services ? even in what language would those services be conducted in the Cathe- dral of the metropolis ? Paul's Cross was the oracle, before which whoever would prognosticate the coming changes, whether in ad- vance or retrograde, would take his stand and listen in eager expectation. The oracle was mute, or spoke uncer- tain sounds. On the immediate accession of Elizabeth (Nov. 17, 1558), the Queen's Chaplain, Dr. Bill, made a goodly sermon at Paul's Cross, but that sermon seems to have uttered no distinct prediction. But from that day, to the general astonishment no doubt, Paul's Cross was silent for some months. Those who feared or hoped that it would at once proclaim to the excited capital what was 256 S. PAUL'S CEOSS SILENT. CHAP, to be the religion of the realm, were doomed to disappoint- - ^ ' ment. It was one of the Articles in Cecil's Memorial of the first Acts recommended to the Queen on her accession, to consider the condition of the preacher at Paul's Cross, that no occasion be given by him to stir any dispute concerning the governance of the realm: 1 *A proclamation ' was presently set forth, that no man should alter any ' rites or ceremonies at that time used in the Church ; and * because, in such divisions of opinions, the pulpits often ' serve as drums and fifes to inflame fury, proclamation ' was made that no men should preach but such as should * be allowed by authority. . . . Hereupon no sermon was * preached at Paul's Cross until the Rehearsal Sermon was ' made upon the Sunday after Easter.' 2 Accordingly the rites and ceremonies of the Marian religion went on un- disturbed in the Cathedral ; only, in obedience to another royal proclamation, the Epistle and Gospel were read in English. All minds, indeed, were directed to Westminster, where the splendid coronation of the Queen took place splen- did, though no more dignified Prelate than Oglethorpe of Carlisle could be found to officiate. The Primate Pole was in his grave, Heath of York a strong Marian, Bonner out of the question. More than once the Queen made a sort of progress through the city, but of her attendance at S. Paul's there is no record. She might be unwilling to countenance the old service ; she had not yet ordered the new. Nor would she be willing to encounter Bishop Bonner or Cole, Dean of S. Paul's, one of the most reso- lute supporters of the old religion. Sermons, as Machyn duly chronicles, were preached before the Queen at court. The list for February is complete. But at the Cross no 1 Strype's Annals, vol. i. p. 7. betk, p. 5. Camden Society's Publica- 3 Hay ward's Annals of Queen Eliza* tions. SERMONS AT THE CROSS. 257 sermon was heard till April 11 (by Machyn's account the CHAP. Sunday after Easter), at which time, when the preacher, , . Dr. Samson, was to mount into the pulpit, the keys were not forthcoming, and when, at the command of the Lord Mayor, it was opened by a smith, the place was almost too filthy and unclean to be used. 3 On April 8, ap- peared again Dr. Bill, the Queen's Almoner, to explain to the wondering audience for what reason the recusant Bishops had been sent to the Tower. On May 14, Grin- dal (the future Bishop of London) preached before the Queen's Council, the Duke of Norfolk, Lord Northampton, the Lord Treasurer, a great assemblage of nobles and knights, and the Lord Mayor and Aldermen. The next Sunday, Home (afterwards Bishop of Winchester) preached before the Lord Mayor and City dignitaries, many judges and serjeants-at-law, and a crowd of people. From this time the sermons became more regular, and are duly chronicled by Machyn. The list is curious, and, inter- spersed as it is with other events of the day, well worthy of examination. Bishop Bonner was in the Tower, Bishop Grindal not yet appointed. The vacant palace of the Bishop was assigned for the entertainment of the French Ambassa- dors, the Cardinal of Lorraine, the Duke of Montmorency, the Marquis of Fronsac, the Bishop of Orleans, the Chevalier d'Aubespere. For several days the Ambas- sadors passed in splendid procession to the Court to dinner, then came music, and after dinner bear and bull- baiting. On the following day they embarked at Paul's Wharf for Paris Garden the Cardinal and Bishop no doubt for both bear and bull-baiting, with a captain of the ' Guard ' to keep room for them * to see the bayting.' When they departed, among other more splendid gifts 3 Hayward's Annals. Machyn is silent on this disgraceful incident. S 258 CHANGES. CHAP, they carried many mastiffs for the wolf. The Bishop's ^ ' Palace (perhaps it was as well) was not often honoured with such guests. There is no record that they, not even the Bishop, entered the Cathedral. 4 On June 6, Sandys (hereafter Bishop of Worcester, of London, and Archbishop of York) preached. The Lord Mayor and Aldermen were present, the l)uke of Bedford, and other nobles. The Apostles'. Mass was now discon- tinued, and soon after the Mass came to an end. On June 18, Jewel preached. The Mayor and Alder- men, Sir Edward Rogers, Comptroller of the Queen's house- hold, were present, amid a great concourse. June 23, five Bishops, some from beyond the sea, among them Parker as Primate, Grindal, Bishop of London, Scorey, Barlow, Bill, were elected in Bow Church. Grindal and the others were not consecrated till the December follow- ing. All these months the new Queen was as lavish and splendid as her predecessors in pageants and processions (but they were not religious), in May games, Robin Hood, all kinds of pastimes and amusements, some warlike, tilts, shooting at the mark, and banquets. These pageants alternated with the deposition, not with the burning, of bishops. The changes went quietly on. Of the Friars of Greenwich, the Black Friars in Smithfield, the Priests of the Charter House, the Nuns of Zion, it is simply said, * they went away.' 5 On August 11, appeared at the Cathedral the Queen's Commissioners to hold their visitation. Home, after- wards Bishop of Winchester, was at their head. They took their seats in the church. The English Litany was read, and Home preached on * the wise and faithful * servant.' They then adjourned to the Chapter House. 4 Machyn, p. 149. * Ibid. p. 204. IMAGES EEMOVED. 259 The names of all and singular of the said church were CHAP, cited. Few appeared. The Bishop, Bonner, could not, nor the Dean, faithful to Bonner, who had been deprived. William May, though as Dean he had sanctioned and conducted all the changes in Edward's reign, appears not to have been a very obnoxious person. He had been de- prived, but escaped the stake. But William May, who now (June 23) had been reappointed, had not yet resumed his stall. Of the thirty prebendaries, a considerable number had been appointed by Bonner, and of these, no doubt, most held his extreme opinions. The absent were deemed liable to the penalties of contumacy. It was by order of these Commissioners that the church was to be purged of its superstitions. A few days after, the Rood, raised with such solemn ceremony by Bishop Bonner, fell again. The images disappeared. In S. Paul's this was done in quiet, with no irreverence. 6 Elsewhere there were tumults. The populace had become icono- clastic, and in some places with great violence. The Smithfield fires were working on the popular mind. These orders had been delivered to William Saxey, Treasurer, in the absence of the Bishop, Dean, and Subdean. The re- presentative of the Chapter, Saxey, who was also Preben- dary of Willesden, though appointed by Bonner, seems to have rendered prompt and ready obedience. John Harps- 6 ' The orders,' writes Hayward, ' little regarding what, were painted ' which the Commissioners gave were ' thereon. And not only images, ' both embraced and executed with ' but rood-lofts, relics, sepulchres, ' great fervency of the common people, ' books, banners, copes, vestments, ' especially in beating down, breaking, ' altar-cloths, were in divers places ' and burning images which had been ' committed to the fire, and that with ' erected in the churches, declaring ' such shouting and applause of the ' themselves no less disordered in de- ' vulgar sort, as if it had been the ' facing of them than they had been ' sacking of some hostile city. So ' immoderate and excessive in adoring ' difficult it is when men run out of one 'them before; yea, in many places ' extreme not to run into the other, but ' walls were razed, windows were ' to make a stable stay in the mean.' ' dashed down, because some images, Annals of Elizabeth, p. 28. s 2 260 DEPOSITION OF CANONS. CHAP ne ld, Archdeacon of London and Prebendary, appeared X 1 - and exhibited a book of statutes and ordinances of the i ' church. Harpsfield was ordered to exhibit the next day the charter of the original foundation of the church. He must have found it difficult to comply with this order, at least to show a genuine charter. At a later period he was ordered to produce a full and faithful inventory of all and singular the jewels, ornaments, and whatsoever books, belonging to the said church. How were they in the custody of the Archdeacon, not of the Treasurer, their statutable guardian ? John Harpsfield, Archdeacon of London, Nichols Harpsfield, the famous Papal preacher, and another Prebendary, refused to submit to the Queen's injunctions. They were bound in their recognisances under a penalty of 200Z. to the Queen to appear on a future day. Treasurer Saxey and some others submitted. Among the instructions to Saxey and the obedient mem- bers of the Chapter, was one to provide a decent table for the ordinary celebration of the Lord's Supper. It was also enjoined that henceforth in the Cathedral Church no one use any shaven crowns, amices, or vestments called copes. Later on the 2nd of November, besides the Harps- fields and Wallerton, four other prebendaries, being ad- judged contumacious, were deprived of their stalls. Some others petitioned for delay. The Archdeacon of Colchester raising some exceptions to the Queen's injunction, was deprived. 7 Meantime, on S. Bartholomew's Day, in many places, there was a conflagration of roods, crosses, censers, ban- ners, altar-cloths, and other church decorations. This, however, it should seem in S. Paul's, was conducted in a more orderly and decent manner. On September 8, Machyn is again in his element. The 7 Strype's Annals, vol. i. p. 249. OBSEQUIES OF HENRY II. OF FRANCE. 261 obsequies of Henry II. of France 8 were performed in CHAP. the Cathedral with extraordinary magnificence, it may r be presumed after the old ceremonial, the obsequies of Henry II., the inexorable persecutor of the Reformers. Machyn is fall on ' the hearse, scutcheons, coats of arms, 'with great crowns, a great pall of cloth of gold, coat- ' armour, helmet, and mantle of cloth of gold, target, sword, ' and crest. The choir was hung with black, with armorial ' bearings. Lord Treasurer Cecil, chief mourner, next my ' Lord Chamberlain, many nobles, Lords Hunsdon, and ' Abergavenny. 9 The Dirige was sung,' no doubt in Latin. On the 9th, all the heralds Garter, Clemencieux, Norroy, Somerset, Chester, Richmond, York, Windsor, Lancaster, Rouge Croix, and Rouge Dragon, Bluemantle, and Portcul- lis, came in their array from the Bishop's palace. The new Archbishop, Parker, ministered. The sermon was preached by Scorey, Bishop of Hereford (was there a single word of Henry's cruelties ?) The Clergy (we hear nothing of the Bishop elect of London, Grindal) had black gowns, and great hoods lined with silk and drest caps. 1 They all returned to the Bishop's palace to drink. The expenses of the funeral amounted to 783L 10s. Wd. It was borne by the Queen. 2 On September 17 was a jubilant sermon by Veron, a Frenchman, a popular English preacher. Veron had been committed to the Tower with Bradford, as concerned in the riot during Dr. Bourne's sermon at the Cross, in the beginning of Queen Mary's reign. He now broke out, ' Where are the Bishops and old preachers? they hide their * heads ! ' It would have been difficult for them to show their heads : many of them were safe in the Tower ; Harps- field silenced by authority. Veron, however, was a man of honest courage ; at another time he had the boldness, * Henry died July 20, 1559. > Ibid. 9 Machyn. * Strype's Annals, vol. i. p. 1 262 GRINDAL CONSECRATED. CHAP, preaching before the Queen, to protest against the alien- .1^.' _.> ation of the Bishops' lands. September 30 began the new Service in the Cathedral ' at the same time that the Apostles' Mass was wont to ' be sung.' *" Machyn duly chronicles other preachers at the Cross. On September 3, one Makebray, a Scot ; October 15, Crolly, once a printer; November 12, old Miles Cover- dale, not yet Bishop of Exeter, a noted man. On the 26th, Jewel, Bishop Elect of Salisbury, preached and first uttered his memorable challenge, defying his adversaries of the old religion to produce a passage from the Fathers of the first centuries in favour of the peculiar doctrines of Rome. The sermon was enlarged and preached before the Court, March 17, 1560-1. More than a year had elapsed since the accession of Elizabeth, and yet no new Bishop of London had taken possession of his throne in the Cathedral. On December 17, Matthew Parker was consecrated Primate at Lam- beth. On the 20th, Parker consecrated Edward Grindal, with other Bishops, Bishop of London. Before, however, we set Grindal on his throne, we must follow out the fate of his predecessor, Bonner. In December, 1558, Bonner was still recognised as Bishop of London ; certain cases of con- juring and witchcraft against the life of the Queen were referred to him for prosecution. Jewel fully believed in these wicked sorcerers. 3 Were they so wicked in Bonner's estimation ? Of the judgment we hear nothing. Already, on the first sight of Bonner, the Queen had turned away in disgust. Elizabeth may not have assumed her * lion port,' but the expression of her haughty mien could not be mistaken. Bonner, nevertheless, presided in the first Convocation, which voted a strong papal address 1 Strype's Annals, vol. i. p. 10. BONNER DEPOSED. 263 to the Crown. Bonner, with the other Bishops, stood aloof CHAP, from the Coronation of Elizabeth, January 15, 1558-9. ' ^ His robes, however, and gorgeous robes they were, 4 were borrowed to attire Oglethorpe of Carlisle, the one offici- ating Bishop. In the House of Lord*, with Heath, Arch- bishop of York, and other Bishops present, Bonner pro- tested against the Act for restoring the Royal Supre- macy, and the other Acts of the same character. He still retained influence enough to carry the rejection of a Bill to make valid the leases granted by Bishop Ridley, an Act which would have confirmed the former depo- sition of Bonner, and established the lawful episcopate of Ridley. On the 25th of May, Bonner, who had thus sat in the first Convocation and the first Parliament of the reign, was again deposed. After his deprivation with other Bishops, he sent a letter to the Queen in defence of the supremacy of Rome, remarkable for a singular argu- ment from ecclesiastical history, in which the Bishops do not seem very strong. He made the great Athanasius a heretic, condemned for resisting the Head of the Church of Rome. 5 Even in the month of the Queen's Coronation, Bonner had been summoned to appear before the Council, with all the commissions which he had received for the examination of heretics, and an account of the fines which he had levied on heretics. But this was as yet the only act of vengeance for his cruelties. It was not till April, 1560, that he was committed to his old prison, the Marshalsea. If Strype's account is to be accepted, he seems till then to have been at liberty. 6 His imprison- 4 ' Universum apparatumPontificium ' (the Church of Eome)and her Council ' quo uti solent Episcopi in hujusmodi ' in Liberius his time ; the Emperor ' magnificisillustrissimorum regum in- ' also speaking against him for resist- ' augurationibus.' Strype,vo\.i.p. 42. ' ing the Head of the Church.' 5 ' And histories yet make mention Strype, vol. L'p. 68. ' that Athanasius was expulsed by her 264 END OF BONNEK. CHAP, merit was for his security against the popular detes- _ were accepted and accredited as authoritative expositions of the Anglican doctrines. If the Liturgy of the Church of England had been con- ducted in S. Paul's in all its grace and majestic solemnity, with full cathedral services, with a powerful choir and fine voices (Tallis had already composed his simple but noble chants), it is possible that this stately ceremonial might have defied or triumphed over the charge of Popery, and arrested the strong tide of Puritanism, now beginning to set in, especially in the metropolis. But Bishop Grindal, fresh from Strasburg and Frankfort, and no doubt ab- sorbed in the care of his diocese, was not the man to con- ceive and carry out such a design. Still less was Dean Alexander Nowell. On his installation Nowell had been welcomed by the pealing organ and the chanting of the full choir. But to the famous petition presented to Convoca- tion among the articles of which was one, that the Psalms should be sung distinctly by the whole congregation, and that organs may be laid aside the Dean of S. Paul's, the prolocutor, was in the van of opposition. 5 In other churches, even at Paul's Cross, the Psalms began to be sung Geneva-wise (Sternhold and Hopkins were not yet). We know not whether Nowell joined with the Puritans in their special abhorrence of antiphonal singing, as expressed in one of their writings: ' Concerning the singing of psalms, 4 we allow of the people's joining wi^h one voice in a plain ' tune, but not in tossing the psalms from one side to ' the other, with the intermingling of organs.' 6 s See the names of the principal ' at first the Puritans carried the day ; leaders in Neal, vol. i. p. 18. ' There ' but proxies being called, the motion ' was a division in the Convocation on- ' was lost by a majority of one, Nowell ' certain propositions, one of which ' being in the minority.' ' was simply, that the use of organs Neal, vol. i. p. 290. lv e removed. Convocation divided; FIRE IN S. PAUL'S. 277 But even if such a design as a great cathedral service CHAP, had been entertained, it had been frustrated, at least for a >-..,.'- time, by an awful calamity. In the year 1561 a terrific storm burst over London. The Church of S. Martin's, Ludgate Hill, was struck by lightning ; huge stones came toppling down on the roof and on the pavement. The alarm was not over, when the lightning was seen to flash into an aperture in the steeple of the Cathedral. The steeple was of wood covered with lead. The fire burned downwards for four hours with irresistible force, the bells melted, the timber blazed, the stones crumbled and fell. The lead flowed down in sheets of flame, threatening, but happily not damaging, the organ. The fire ran along the roof, east, west, north, and south, which fell in, filling the whole church with a mass of ruin. At a period of such fierce religious excitement, in the clash and collision of opinions and passions, both parties saw in this event a manifest sign from heaven, a sign of the Divine wrath. Where could God, the avenger of sin, reveal himself so awfully, so undeniably, so visibly, as in thus striking the great church of the metropolis with that which all religions, which heathen poetry and biblical imagery, had declared to be the chosen bolt of destruction from the right hand of the Almighty ? Bach party at once thrust itself into the secret counsels of the inscrutable Godhead, and read, without doubt or hesitation, the significance of this, as all agreed, supernatural event ; the Protestants as condemnatory of the old superstitious slavery to the usurping Bishop of Rome, the Papalists, of the rebellion against the Vicar of Christ, the sacrilegious profanation of the sanctuary. On the following Sunday, it was the turn of Pilkington, Bishop of Durham, to preach at Paul's Cross. Pilkington was one of the Bishops, if not a rude Iconoclast, yet, 278 SERMONS OF PILKINGTON AND NOWELL. CHAP, doubtless, far gone in Puritanism. He has left an evil ^ name at Durham. He dwelt on the dreadful visitation of the Church of which the smoking ruins were in sight, as a warning against greater plagues which would fall on the city of London if all estates did not amend their lives. Pilkington's sermon is lost; but from a reply (of which more presently) he must have inveighed with all the fervour and vehemence of Puritanism against the abuses and superstitions of the ancient faith. On the Sunday after, Dean Nowell preached at the Cross. He rebuked the triumph of the Papal party, which had doubtless already declared itself aloud. The Dean had no difficulty in showing that this was no unpre- cedented calamity ; that the Church had been as fearfully visited in old Papal times ; he dwelt especially on an earthquake which, in the reign of Richard II., had shaken down the spire ; on the fire in the days of King Stephen, which had raged as far as S. Clement Danes. So far the Dean had a fair argument. But he went on to rake up an old story, by no means relevant, against William Courtenay, Bishop of London and Primate in the reign of Henry IV., who was charged with enriching himself out of monies collected by indulgences for the repairs of the church, to which himself had contributed not a doit. The argument of Newell, however, is curious as preserving a tradition of Courtenay's unpopularity Courtenay, the high anti-Lollard prelate. In a few days appeared a tract, first disseminated, it was said, in West Chester, and traced to Morwen, once chaplain to Bishop Bonner, which no doubt speedily found its way to London. It contained sentences like these : ' In S. Paul's * Church in London, by the decree of the blessed fathers, * every night at midnight they had matins ; all the forenoon ' masses in the church with other divine services and con- MOEWEN'S PAMPHLET. 279 1 tirnial prayer ; on the steeple anthems and prayers were CHAP. 6 had at certain times. But consider how far contrary the v . " T ' - ' church has been used, and it is no marvel if God hath ( cast down fire to burn part of the church as a sign of his ' wrath. . . . The old fathers and the old ways were left, ' together with blaspheming God in lying sermons preached f there, polluting the temple with schismatical services, ( and destroying and pulling down altars, set up by blessed ' men, and where the sacrifice of the mass was ministered.' Pilkington, at whom this satire was chiefly aimed, thought it necessary to reply to the fierce arraignment. His reply is a long, elaborate, and for the time a very learned refutation of Popery, as far as heaping together every thing which could be adduced from history, or what was then called history, against fathers, and popes, and their peculiar doctrines. 7 The tone is hardly mitigated scurrility. His common name for his assailant is the i Scavenger.' This may illustrate the style of Pilkington: 'No place ' has been more abused than Paul's has been, nor more ' againsf the receiving of Christ's Gospel; whereof it is ' more marvel that God spared it so long, rather than ( that He overthrew it now. From the top of the ' steeple down within the ground no place has been ' free. From the top of the spire at coronations and ' other solemn triumphs, some for vain glory used to ' throw themselves down by a rope, and so killed thern- ' selves vainly to please other men's eyes. At the battle- ' ments of the steeple sundry times were used their ' popish anthems to call upon their gods ' (in another passage he compares this practice at length to Baal's priests on Mount Carmel), ' with torch and taper in the ' evenings. In the top of one of the pinnacles is Lollards' ' tower, where many an innocent soul has been by them 7 Pilkington's Works, pp. 487-616. 280 PILKINGTON'S EEPLY. CHAP. * cruelly tormented, and murdered' (this must have been ,- ' difficult in a pinnacle; S. Paul's Lollards' tower, by all accounts, was elsewhere). 'In the midst alley was their ' long censer reaching from the roof to the ground, as ' though the Holy Ghost came down in their censing in ' the shape of a dove. In the Arches (the Court of * Arches), though commonly men complain of wrong and ( delayed judgment in ecclesiastical causes, yet because I * will not judge by hearsay, saving only for such as have * been condemned there by Annas and Caiaphas for ' Christ's cause, as innocently as any Christians could be. ' For their images hanged on every wall, pillar, and door; ' with their pilgrimages and worship of them, I will not v * stand to rehearse them, because they cannot be unknown * to all men that have seen London or heard of them. * Their massing and many altars, with the rest of their * Popish service, which he so much extols, I pass over ' because I answered them afore. The south alley for * Popery and usury, the north for simony, and the horse- * fair in the midst for all kind of bargains, meetings, ' brawlings, murders, conspiracies, and the font for ordi- ' nary payments of money, as well known to all men as ' the beggar knows his dish. The Popish clergy began * and maintained these ; and godless worldlings defend ' them, when the poor Protestant laments and would ' amend them. Judas' chapel under the ground, with the ' apostles' mass so early in the morning, was accounted as ' fit a place to work a feat in as the stews or taverns. So ' that without and within, above the ground and under, * over the roof and beneath, on the top of the steeple down t to the low floor, not one spot was free from wickedness, * as the said Bishop did in his sermon then declare ; so ' that we should praise God for his mercy in sparing it so 1 long, and now tremble at his fearful judgment in justly PILKINGTON'S EEPLY. 281 ' avenging such filthiness. God for his mercy grant it CHAP. * may now be amended.' 8 ,_!_ This is but one passage from this strange argumenta- tive rhapsody, very curious, as an example of the manner in which controversy was too often carried on in those days, and as illustrative of the manners of the times. It is curious too to read in a letter of the Cardinal Com- mendone to Cardinal Borromeo an account of this fire and of the religious controversy about it. With the Italian Cardinal of course it was a judgment against the heresy of the land. A striking illustration of this truth, that the judgments of God are always on our side ! 9 The demolition of S. Paul's had not been so complete as was apprehended at first, but its destruction was held to be a national calamity, its restoration a national work. The Crown of England, the Church of England, the nobility of England, the whole commonalty, especially the City of London, were called upon to raise it up again at least to its pristine dignity. At no time had the capitular estates, latterly not those of the Bishop, been considered responsible for the maintenance and repairs of the church. The question was not even mooted on this occasion. The 8 Pilkington's Works, pp. 210, 211. 'a loro, e cio hanno scritto e stampato, Parker edition. ' con la forma del medesimo fuoco 9 ' In Londra, la vigilia del Corpus ' che ivi publicamente si vedeva, ed io ' Domini, all' ora del vespero, una ' n' ebbi una con queste parole a Wit- ' saetta arse la torre ed il resto della ' temberg, il che scrivo a vostra Si- ' chiesa di San Paolo, che e la princi- ' gnoria illustrissima, acciocche conosca ' pale di quella citta ; e qui gli Inglesi, ' da questo ancora la perversita di cos- ' in luogo di riconoscere la loro im- ' toro, che non si contentano di ridurre ' pieta, dicono che Dio distrugge i ' tali segni alle cause naturali senza ' tempj dell' idolatrie passate in quel ' rivolgersi punto a Dio, ma gli alte- '.regno, come anco in Sassonia i ' rano nel medesimo modo che le Scrit- ' teologi, interpretando malamente il ' ture, contro 1* autore d' essi segni e ' fuoco che si vide il di degli Innocent! ' Scritture, cercando con ogni via di ' nel cielo per tutte quelle provincie, ' confermare gl' infelici popoli nelT ere- ' predicavano alii popoli che Dio li ' sia.' Quoted in Cantu, Eretici d' Ita- ' minacciava, perche non custodivano lia, vol. i. p. 268. ' bene la purita del Vangelo rivelato 282 REBUILDING OF THE CHURCH. frugal Queen gave 1,000 marks in gold, 1,000 marks in timber from her woods or elsewhere. The City of London gave first a great benevolence, and after that three- fifteenths to be speedily paid. The Clergy of the province of Canterbury granted the fortieth part of the income of their benefices charged with first fruits, and the thirtieth of those not so charged. There were collections in every diocese. The total sum raised from the Clergy was 1,460Z. 10s. lid. The Bishop of London in two donations gave 284Z. 12s. lid. The Dean and Chapter of S. Paul's, 136Z. 13s. 4d. The two Chief Justices and Officers of the Court of Common Pleas, 34Z. 5s. ; of King's Bench, 171. 16s. Sd. The Bishop of London further for timber, 720Z. 1 The Lord Mayor at once recognised his duty. The flames were hardly extinguished, when men were set to work, the most skilful that could be found, to take measures for the immediate repair of the damage. The restoration proceeded rapidly, under the active care of the Chief Magistrate, who personally superintended the works, with * men of knowledge,' to overlook the workmen. In one month a false roof was erected to keep out the weather. By the end of the year the aisles were covered in and roofed over with lead. During the next year the 1 The details are in Strype's edition of Stowe, book iii. p. 150 : s. d. *. d. London . 297 1 1 Brought forward 1024 11 Canterbury 141 19 8 S. Asaph 29 19 Norwich . 180 Bangor . 23 Ely 56 Hereford 33 LI Peterborough 60 Winchester 40 Coventry and Lich Exeter . 100 field . 48 Gloucester 25 Lincoln . 191 2 Worcester 55 S. David's 30 Chichester 60 Oxford . 20 Bristol . 20 Carryforward 1024 11 1410 12 11 REOPENING OF THE CHURCH. 283 great roofs of the west and east end had been prepared CHAP. with large timbers framed in Yorkshire, brought by sea, ^ set up, and covered with lead. The north and south tran- septs were covered by the end of April, 1566. 2 The church was so far restored that, on the 1st of November, 1561, the Lord Mayor and Aldermen and all the crafts of London, in their liveries, went to the Cathe- dral with a vast retinue (eighty men carrying torches) ; the Lord Mayor tarried the sermon, which lasted into the night (a November night), and returned home by the light of the torches. 3 The steeple, however, remained in ruins, and so con- tinued during the reign of Elizabeth ; and, in fact, never was re-erected. The repairs in the time of James I. and Charles I. were confined to other parts of the building. Queen Elizabeth was extremely angry that the repairs of the steeple were not carried on. The excuse was that her Majesty's subsidies pressed so heavily on the City, that time was absolutely necessary. The City promised speedy attention to her Majesty's commands, Jtrat nothing was done. If Bishop Pilkington was right in attributing the fire to God's wrath for the desecration of the holy edifice not only by the practices of Popish worship, but by other profanations, buyings and sellings, bargainings, usury and simony, which had each its special part of the church for its purpose, this old and inveterate abuse still defied authority, civil as well as religious. Pilkington's ani- madversions on the abuses of older times cannot have been invenfions. Indeed we have heard Kings condemn and Bishops of old threaten with excommunication these unseemly practices. The satirists of the older as of the 2 The service, while the Cathedral neighbouring chnrch of S. Gregory, was in ruins, was celebrated in the * Machyn, p. 271. 284 EDICT OF CITY OF LONDON. later times are full of bitter remonstrances. Assuredly the Eeformation was not likely, though. Pilkington affirms the sorrow of Protestants at such evils, to deepen the awe for the sanctity of churches. Towards the end of Edward Vlth's reign, these abuses already had seemingly reached their height, and called forth the interference not of Bishops or Deans, but of the civil magistrates. In the first and second years of Philip and Mary, August 1, was an act of the Common Council of London : Forasmuch ' as the material temples of God were first ordained for the ' lawful and devout assembly of people, there to lift up ( their hearts and to laud and praise Almighty God, and ' to hear the divine service and most Holy Word and * Gospel sincerely said, sung, and taught (there is a strong ' Protestant sound in this), are not to be used as markets * or other profane uses.' It goes on to complain that many of the inhabitants of the city of London and others were accustomed, un- seemly and irreverently, * to make their common carriage * of great vessels^of ale or beer, great baskets full of bread, ' fish, flesh, and fruit, fardels of stuff, and other gross ' wares, thorow the cathedral church of S. Paul's, and * some in leading mules, horses, and other beasts irre- ' verently to the great dishonour and displeasure of Al- * mighty God. The Council prohibit all these abuses ' under fines for the first and second offence ; for the third, * imprisonment for two days and nights without bail or ' mainprise.' 4 This appears to have been a police regula- tion to prevent the church from being a thoroughfare, and probably, till the days of Cromwell, the pavement of S. Paul's was not again trodden by the hoofs of horse or mule. Besides this the Queen issued a proclamation against the profanation of S. Paul's. But Bishop Pil- 4 Act in Stowe, Appendix, p. 937. QUEEN ELIZABETH'S PROCLAMATION. 285 kington speaks of the older abuses as still public, notorious, CHAP. of the same notoriety with the ' Popish services,' against ^ which he inveighs ; he appeals to the general knowledge of his hearers, and this only two years after the acces- sion of Elizabeth. Strype, indeed, asserts the breach of ' royal prohibition which had been allowed or winked at ' during the late Popish times, its influence was now alto- ' gether abolished/ In truth the frequent re-enactment of laws shows the inefficiency of those laws. It was high time, indeed, for the royal authority to interfere, though it interfered in vain. Almost the first incident after the repairing of the church (December 15) was the setting up of a pillory in S. Paul's Churchyard against the Bishop's palace, for a man that made a fray in the church. His ears were nailed to the post, and then cut off. 5 Queen Elizabeth's proclamation first prohibits all quar- relling in churches and churchyards, especially S. Paul's Churchyard. Further, her Majesty's pleasure is, that 'if ' any person shall make any fray, or draw or put out his ' hand to any weapon for that purpose, or shoot any ' hand-gun or dagg within the cathedral church of S. ' Paul, or churchyard adjoining thereto, or within the ' limits of the boundaries compassing the same, they ' shall suffer imprisonment for two months. Any of her ' Majesty's subjects who shall walk up and down, or spend 1 the time in the same, in making any bargain or other ' profane cause, and make any kind of disturbance during ' the time of preaching, lecturing, or other divine service ( (observe the limitation), shall incur the pain of imprison- ' ment and fine, the fine to go to the repair of the church. ' No agreement was to be made for the payment of money f in the Cathedral ; no burthen to be carried through the ' church ; but there is a reservation for any covenant or * Machyn, p. 273. 286 ABUSES IN S. PAUL'S. 1 bond already made ' (this shows how common an affair it was) . The enforcement of this Proclamation was entrusted to the Lord Mayor, who with two Aldermen, four or six discreet commoners and other officers were, at the sum- mons of the Bishop or the Dean, to see to the execution of the premises. 6 But the Queen's Proclamation was only idle thunder ; even less effective than the inhibition of Kings and Bishops in older days. The Dean and Canons were either careless or powerless, perhaps content with decent order during the hours of service in the choir or during sermons. The City authorities were either not summoned to, or regardless of, their office ; they perhaps found S. Paul's so convenient an exchange, that they agreed tacitly to violate or to neglect the Queen's inhibitions. The Eliza- bethan literature teems with passages which show to what base uses the nave and aisles of the Cathedral were abandoned, as lounging-places for the idle and hungry, for knaves, thieves, ruffians or women ; a mart for business of all kinds, even the lowest and most coarse. The walls were covered with advertisements, not always the most decent; it was the unrebuked trysting-place of both sexes, the place where villanies and robberies were plotted ; where every thing was bought, sold, hired. Shakspeare makes Falstaff buy Bardolph in Paul's ; ser- vants bought and hired there were proverbially no better than Bardolph. Dekker, in his ' Gulls' Handbook,' gives a comical detail of the gulls and knaves which swarmed in all corners. Parasites who wanted a dinner haunted what popular fame had transmuted into the tomb of the good Duke Humphrey. There was a noble monument of the Beauchamps at the foot of the second column, at The Proclamation is in Strype's Grindal. Wilkins, vol. iv. p. 227. Dated Oct. 30, 1561. BISHOP EARLE. 287 the north-east end of the nave. This was changed into the CHAP. XI tomb of the old Duke (who was buried at S. Alban's) , and , hence the common proverb, 'to dine with Duke Hum- ' phrey ! ' At length, before the close of the century and of Elizabeth's reign, Ben Jonson actually lays the scene in the third Act of his ' Every Man out of his Humour ' in the middle aisle of S. Paul's. The knave of the play boasts that he has posted up his bills without observation, and precious bills they were to be read on the walls of a church. The characters which old Ben, though a coarse yet not usually an irreverent writer, scruples not to as- semble in the church, is the most vivid illustration of the extent to which the abuse had grown ; nor does this comedy, as far as I can trace, appear to have given any offence. Perhaps the best, most amusing, least offensive de- scription of Paul's Walk is that in the ' Microcosmo- graphy ' of Bishop Earle ; and even in the Bishop's work I have thought it right to leave out some lines : ' Paul's ' Walk is the land's epitome, as you may call it ; the lesser ' isle of Great Britain. It is more than this. The whole ' world's map, which you may here discern in its per- ' fectest motion, justling and turning. It is a heap of ' stones and men, with a vast confusion of languages ; and ' were the steeple not sanctified, nothing liker Babel. The ' noise in it is like that of bees, a strange hum, mixed of ' walking tongues and feet ; it is a kind of still roar or ' loud whisper. It is the great exchange of all discourse, ' and no business whatsoever but is here striving and ' afoot. It is the synod of all parties politick, jointed and ' laid together, in most serious position, and they are not ' half so busy at the Parliament. ... It is the market of ' young lecturers, whom you may cheapen here at all rates ' and sizes. 7 It is the general mint of all famous lies, 7 Look back at the quotation from Piers Ploughman. 288 ABUSES OF CATHEDRAL IN ALL TIMES. ' which are here like the legends of Popery, first coined ' and stamped in the church. All inventions are emptied ' here, and not few pockets. The best sign of a temple ' in it is, that it is the thieves' sanctuary, which rob more * safely in a crowd than a wilderness, whilst every searcher ' is a bush to hide them. It is the other expense of the ' day, after plays, taverns . . . ; and men have still some * oaths left to swear here. . . . The visitants are all men ' without exceptions, but the principal inhabitants and ' possessors are stale knights and captains out of service ; ' men of long rapiers and breeches, which after all turn 4 merchants here, and traffick for news. Some make it a ' preface to their dinner, and travel for a stomach ; but ' thriftier men make it their ordinary, and board here ' very cheap. Of all such places it is least haunted with * hobgoblins, for if a ghost would walk more, he could < not.' 8 To close this somewhat repulsive but characteristic subject. If when the whole Cathedral was more or less occupied with sacred objects, roods, images, shrines ; if when services were daily, hourly, going on, masses in the chapel and chantries (though those masses might be cele- brated with no great solemnity), these profanations, this occupation of the sanctuary by worldly business buying and selling (at least countenanced by the Church it- self, which drove its own trade), obstinately resisted all attempts *at suppression ; now that the daily service (and that in the choir) had shrunk into forms of prayer, at best into a cathedral service, carelessly perhaps or unim- pressively performed (we have heard with what suspicion organs and antiphonal singing were looked on by many), * Bishop Earle's Microcosmography, notes to Shakspeare, Gifford's Ben Bliss's edition, p. 117. On Paul's Jonson, Nares' Glossary. Walk and the whole subject, see CONVOCATION. 289 when the pulpit, and the hearers under the pulpit, were CHAP. all in all now it cannot be wondered that the world took ^ more entire possession of the vacated nave and aisles, that the reverence, which all the splendour and continuity of the old ritual could not maintain, gradually, if slowly, died away altogether as Puritanism rose to the ascendant, and finally reached its height in the days of Cromwell. Among the earliest scenes witnessed by S. Paul's after it rose from its ashes, was the first Convocation of the Clergy under Elizabeth. It was conducted with unusual solem- nity. It commenced with the Litany in English, then Yeni Creator was sung. The sermon (ad Clerum) was preached in Latin on the text, ' Feed my flock,' by Day, Provost of Eton. After the sermon, the first Psalm in English. The Holy Sacrament was then administered by Arch- bishop Parker. Alexander Nowell, Dean of S. Paul's, was chosen Prolocutor of the Lower House. The Primate, then following the example of Wolsey, adjourned the Convocation to Westminster. It is singular that Wolsey created this precedent as Legate of the Pope (an illegal office) ; for he was never Archbishop of Canterbury. Since that time the same course has been invariably followed. All that is done at S. Paul's is the procession of the Arch- bishop (even in my day of some splendour, when all the civilians from Doctors Commons appeared in their scarlet robes, but Doctors Commons is no more), the sermon is preached, the royal Writ is read in the Chapter House. The Prolocutor is chosen in one of the chapels, under the presidency of the Dean of S. Paul's. I cannot pretend to grieve at the change, or that S. Paul's resounds no more with the sterile debates of Convocation. The dignity of Convocation as a third estate of the realm, the power of granting subsidies, and of self- taxation by the clergy,%has departed, the power of legislation, of enacting canons even u 290 BISHOP GRINDAL. CHAP, for the Clergy, lias passed over to the nation, represented -^ ' by the Crown and the Houses of Parliament. The Convo- cation is actually without authority, and unhappily after the Restoration, and especially after the Revolution, took a course so adverse to freedom, that it was silenced, and remained for a long time in abeyance ; it has been lately renewed, with what success I presume not to determine. Bishop Grindal sate for ten years on the episcopal throne of London. In May, 1570, he moved to York, ere long to ascend higher to the Primacy at Canterbury. Every where he bore the character of profound piety, and gentle- ness a dangerous virtue in those days. His mildness and unwillingness to proceed harshly against the Puritans is acknowledged by their historians, not too apt to admire the virtues of bishops. I cannot refrain from following him to his higher station for a few sentences. The noble yet respectful letter which he dared to write to the Queen on the Prophesyings (these Prophesyings, though encou- raged by some Bishops, were held by the Queen and the High .Church prelates to be rank Puritanism) led to his disgrace and sequestration . from his archbishopric. On the close of his life, I must use the words of Holinshed : ' His book was his bride, and his study his bride-chamber.' Grindal was unmarried ; for that reason he was perhaps, for a time, treated with greater respect by Elizabeth. ' In ' that study he spent his eyesight, his strength, and his f health.' 9 Spenser's wise Algund is, no doubt, Grindal : But say me, what is Algund, he That is so oft benempt : ' The truth is, that Grindal was ' but as he was pushed forwards, and ' weary of the unpleasant work, the ' when the eyes of his superiors were ' suppression of Puritanism, and hav- ' turned another way he would relax ' ing^a real concern to promote the ' again.' Neal, vol. i. p. 234. See ' preaching of the word of God, he ante, p. 204 ; post, p. 394. ' would not act against the Ministers, SANDYS, BISHOP OF LONDON. 291 Thomalin. CHAP. He is a shepherd, great in gree, XI. But hath been long ypent. One day he sate upon a hill, As now thou wouldest me ; But I am taught by Algund's ill To love the low degree. Ah, good Algund, his hap was ill But shall be better in time. 1 That the author of the ' Faerie Queen ' should feel and express sympathy for Grindal, and for Grindal in disgrace, is equally honourable to the Poet and the Archbishop. There is a strange story in Harington, of Grindal per- sisting in prosecuting a flagrant case of bigamy (then felony) in an Italian Doctor. The Doctor was protected by the all-powerful Leicester, to whom bigamy was by no means so atrocious a crime. Leicester persuaded the Queen to interfere ; but Grindal had the courage to rebuke the Queen for writing on a matter, if she were truly informed, expressly against the word of God. The Queen at first took this rebuke well, but afterwards was overpersuaded by Leicester to treat it as a great indignity. Hence the disgrace of Grindal, who was confined to his house, where, because his eyes were weak, his friends gave out that he was blind. 2 The successor of Grindal was Edwin Sandys, Bishop of Worcester, installed July 20, 1570. A year had not ex- pired when, if on the night of May 25, 1571, Bishop Sandys slept in his London palace, he must have been awakened by a. wild uproar at his gates. The populace of London were reading (if it was in Latin there would be interpreters enough) a great parchment, with the Papal arms and signature, the Bull which Pius V. had launched 1 Shepherd's Calendar, July. See 2 ' Nugse antiquse,' edit. Park, vol. also May. ii. p. 19. u 2 292 THE BULL OF THE POPE. against Queen Elizabeth. This some audacious hand had affixed to the episcopal gates. Imagine the indignant rage of some, the shuddering dismay of others (if there were any who felt joy in their hearts they would not betray it in their countenances), the frank loyalty of the masses, even of the Puritans, who, if their ardent re- verence and love for the Queen was somewhat cooled, would only be more fiercely maddened by their hatred of the Pope. The tumult and uproar may be gathered from the ballads of the day, and the broadsheet literature which was everywhere scattered abroad, read, sung, applauded to the highest, by the furious multitude. Here is a stanza from one ; pages might be filled with them : A Pope was wont to be an odious name Within our land, and scrapt out of our scrowles ; And now the Pope is come so far past shame, That he can walk with open face at Poules. Go home, mad Bull ! to Borne, and pardon soules, That pine away in Purgatorie payne. Go, triumph there, where credit most remains ; Thy daie is out in England long ago, For Ridley gave the Bull so great a blow He never durst apeach this land till now, In bulling-time, he met with Harding's cow. 3 The Bull, which is of great length, begins by asserting the absolute power of the Pope, made (by God) Prince over all nations and kingdoms, to pluck up, destroy, scatter, consume, plant, and build. It proceeds to a recital of the crimes of Elizabeth, the pretended Queen of 1 From the curious volume edited by is quoted in the notes to this volume, Henry Huth, Esq., for the Philobiblon p. 452, which exceeds the ballad in Society, p. 337. There is another, fierceness. ' A disclosing of the Great purporting to be an answer from the ' Bull, and certain calves that he hath Pope in Rome to a letter from England, 'gotten, and specially the Monster when informed of the contempt with ' Bull that roared at my Lord By- which the Bull had been received, ' shoppes gate.' and the execution of Felton. A tract JOHN FELTON. 293 England, ' abandoned to all wickedness,' her usurpation CHAP. of the Supremacy, her reduction of the kingdom to a > ^ miserable apostacy, the establishment of rites and cere- monies according to Calvin's Institutes, the dispossession of the Catholic Clergy of their benefices, casting some of them into prison, ' where many of them, worn out by con- * tinual affliction and grief have died miserably ' (of any execution, of a drop of bloodshed, not a word. Bonner, the one who died in prison, had lived nearly ten years). ' For ' these offences the said Elizabeth is declared a heretic, * and a favourer of heretics, and solemnly excommuni- ' cated. She is deprived of her pretended title to the ' same kingdom, and of all dominion, dignity, and privi- 1 lege. The nobility and people who have taken an oath ' of fidelity to her are absolved from their oath, and ' commanded to give her no allegiance ; all who do so are ' subject to like excommunication.' 4 The intrepid fanatic who had done the deed, and, in defiance of the law and the popular feeling, had nailed the Bull to the Bishop's gates, seems almost to have disdained flight or concealment. He was apprehended, tried, con- demned : and if Bishop Sandys had looked from his win- dows on the morning of August 8 (we trust that he had retired to Fulham), he might have seen the body of iTohn Felton hanging on a gallows erected at his gates, amid the execrations of the citizens of London, and the silent and suppressed commiseration, even perhaps the admiration, of a few, by some of whom he was dignified with the much misused name of martyr. The annalist of S. Paul's may well inquire which was the Pope who thus assumed the power of dethroning the Queen of England, of absolving her subjects from their oath of allegiance, of commanding them to rebellion, and 4 The Bull may be read at length in Camden's Elizabeth. Kennet, p. 427. 294 POPE PIUS V. CHAP, of casting her forth under his outlawry of excommuni- ^- ' cation to the dagger or pistol of any wild fanatic ; and caused to be fixed on the gate of the Bishop of London in 'ope as g^ Paul's this audacious sentence? Pius V. as Cardinal nquisitor. Ghislieri, had been Grand Inquisitor. An act of this Inquisitor, which passes in atrocity the common atrocious- ness of those days, has recently come to light. In the fourteenth century, a colony of Yaudois, mingled perhaps with some of the fugitive Languedocian Albigensians, were tempted to leave the barren sides of the Alps for the sunny lands of Calabria, where a Neapolitan nobleman, a Count Spinelli di Fuscaldo, invited them to cultivate his unpeopled lands almost looking on Sicily. They pros- pered, multiplied, a quiet industrious race, enriching the rocky country, making it a paradise, and maintaining their old hereditary creed. About two centuries after they were denounced to the Grand Inquisitor. By him a crusade was organised with the usual Indulgences. While their houses, vines, and fruit trees were burning, 1400 prisoners were carried to Montalto. The Inquisitor, brother Va- lerio, followed to execute terrible justice. 5 The Calabrian priest who writes was himself struck with horror : eighty men, women, and children were led out of a house one by one, where stood a brawny ruffian, with naked arms red with blood, who cut the throat of every man as he passed out. The third letter relates that the execution was of not less than 2000, 1600 remained in prison. The letters relating all this are addressed to Cardinal Ghis- lieri, under whose authority all was done. Such was the enemy with whom Queen Elizabeth had to deal; such might be the mercies to which the heretical people of 1 ' La quale sara tremenda.' So action. From a paper in the '"Kevue writes the eyewitness, whose letters, des Deux Mondes,' April 1, 1868, by discovered at Florence among the Me- M. Hudry Menos, p. 596 et seq. dici papers, describe the whole trans- PROMULGATION OF THE BULL. 295 England might look forward. I write this under the stern CHAP duty of an historian, who must suppress nothing, mitigate >- \ ' - nothing, characteristic of the age of which he writes. He who would judge Elizabeth must know Elizabeth's anta- gonists ; he who would judge Elizabeth's times, must care- fully and impartially study the acts of those times. All enlightened Roman Catholics (and what Roman Catholics are not so far enlightened ?) will shudder like ourselves with horror, and repudiate such doings as alien to the spirit of their religion ; and they have a right to cast off the terrible heritage, bequeathed to them by darker ages. What Christian will not now aver from his heart that in this case : Delicta majorum immeritus luis, Bomane ! . . . The promulgation of this Bull of the Pope, its publication in the centre of the Queen's metropolis, on the spot probably the most crowded in that metropolis, was a declaration on his side of internecine war, war to the knife, the knife which, ere many years were over, was to strike down the great WiJliam of Orange, Henry III. and Henry IV. of France. This fatal knife hung throughout her reign over the excom- municated and devoted head of Elizabeth ; and on the other side was to be busy in quartering the Missionary Priests who poured into the kingdom in obedience to the Papal summons. The publication of the Bull was the signal of the invasion of the realm by a swarm of zealous Priests, in some respects more formidable as more secret, and more difficult to repel as working silently on hearts and minds within the kingdom, than the squadrons of Parma, or the Armada itself; still threatening or actually exciting civil war, more perilous than foreign aggression. But this invasion was slow and gradual, and reached not its height till at least ten years after, when we shall encounter it again. 296 PUKITANISM. CHAP. Sandys was still Bishop of London when the news - r^ - of the Massacre of S. Bartholomew arrived in the city. The effect of this appalling intelligence may be best estimated from a letter of Sandys to Lord Burleigh. He expresses his dread that this barbarous treachery may not cease in France, but will reach over even unto us ; the fear, that if the league between Elizabeth and the French stand firm, there may be some risings among the citizens of London for the breach thereof. He declares himself ready, with the Dean of S. Paul's, to do all in his power to suppress such tumults. But he suggests other measures to Burleigh ; the first of these was forthwith to cut off the Queen of Scots' head. From this time this was the general cry with all good Protestants. They suspected, and strong grounds of suspicion were not wanting, that Mary was at the bottom of all conspiracies, and all dangers. These enemies did not much disturb the peace of Sandys's episcopate in London. But there were other domestic antagonists with whom he was perpetually called upon to contend. Under Bishop Sandys, Puritanism, hardly repressed by Grindal, as Grindal's enemies as- serted, encouraged by his mildness, became more and more aggressive. At Paul's Cross, Crick from Cambridge, chaplain to the Bishop of Norwich, openly denounced the Established Church, and preached up Cartwright's platform. Sandys is in perplexity. He writes humbly to the Council, ' I sent a messenger to apprehend him.' Crick got safe away, and Sandys makes sure that he will not appear again. Then came Wake of Christchurch, whom the Bishop's Chancellor warned in the midst of his sermon, that he should preach nothing like sedition. 'Well, well,' said the preacher; but the whole sermon was consumed in railing at the present state of the Church, and preaching up Cartwright. Wake made haste back to Oxford, where he BERING. 297 seems to have been in security. The Bishop dared not CHAP. meddle with the privileges of the University. . ,__ But, worse than this, there was rebellion, treason, within the walls of the Cathedral. Dering, of an old Kentish family, a preacher of great eloquence and popularity, was Eeader ; it is presumed that he held the Lectureship of Theology founded by Bishop Richard de Gravesend in S. Paul's. Dering was a fearless man. Preaching before the Queen, he had the boldness to say that, under persecution, she was ' a lamb,' 6 now she was an * untamed heifer.' Bering's Puritanical sermons drew crowds to the Cathedral, but gave offence to the ruling powers : he was deprived of his office. But Dering had a friend at Court. It is singular how many of Elizabeth's councillors inclined to Puritanism. The unprincipled Leicester, for popularity ; Cecil, from sagacious policy, was for mildness ; Walsing- ham possibly ; Sir Francis Knollys certainly from sincere conviction. Dering's friend was no less than the Lord Treasurer. To Cecil he addressed a letter, which even in those days must, from its prolixity, have tried the patience of the statesman. As far as we can gather from his cloud of words, Dering's objections to Episcopacy were to their lordship and civil power; 7 the Lord Arch- bishop and Lord Bishop sounded unchristian to his ears. He had submitted to the Liturgy, even to the surplice. By Cecil's influence Dering was reinstated in his office ; again gave offence, was again deprived. His death, 8 soon after the elevation of Sandys to York, prevented the impracticable Puritan from coming into conflict with the more stern and vigorous Aylmer. On his promotion to York, Sandys preached his farewell sermon at Paul's Cross. The tone of this sermon is tenderly Christian : Tanquara oris. whom comes most of the foregoing. 7 The letter is in Strype, from * Neal, vol. i. 351. 298 BISHOP AYLMER. CHAP. ( God, lie knoweth, God knoweth that with this love I XI - r - ' have loved you.' ' If any had wronged him, he heartily ' forgave them, and would forget for ever.' * God had, no * doubt, his people ; he had many a dear child in that * city ; ' < in any conviction,' he added, ' I have sought re- * formation not revenge ; to punish has been a punish- ' ment to myself. I never did it but with great grief.' His life and conversation among them Sandys left wholly to their secret judgment . . . ' God, of his righteousness, ' knoweth that wittingly and willingly he had wronged no ( man; if I have, I will render him four times as much.' 9 Sandys was succeeded, March 13, 1576, by John Aylmer. About the early years of Aylmer there is a deep interest as the instructor of Lady Jane Grey. He lived as a sort of chaplain in the household of the Duke of Suffolk. The exquisite native gentleness, the mild and modest wisdom, the holy resignation of that most accom- plished and blameless of women, were the gifts of a higher power than a human teacher. But Aylmer taught her the love of letters ; his pupil learnt (probably from him) to read in Greek the Phsedo of Plato ; and Aylmer may perhaps deserve some credit for the peacefulness and dignity of that most Christian death ever endured by Christian woman. Aylmer was a man of courage. In the first Convocation of Queen Mary he had showed extraor- dinary resolution. With others he sought refuge on the Continent. On the accession of Elizabeth, he distin- guished himself % a reply to a no less powerful com- batant than John Knox. To the ' Monstrous Regiment of ' Women' he opposed the * Harbourer of True and Faithful ' Subjects.' The noble constitutional views unfolded in this 9 Strype, vol. ii. p. 43. On Sandys' ' one foot in the grave, he had the death at York, Fuller writes, 'by a ' other in heaven.' V. 141. ' great and good stride, whilst he had BISHOP AYLMER. 299 work, have received the respectful approval of Hallam. 1 CHAP. Ayliner, for his day, was an advanced scholar ; he had > < some knowledge of Hebrew, then a rare acquirement. But Aylmer's days of prosperity and power sadly con- trast with his days of humility and adversity. We may condone his servile flattery of the Queen. He was preach- ing before the Court, wisely enough, against the foolish fears driven into people's heads from the conjunction or opposition of planets, and from figure-casting. ' So long ' as we have Virgo we need fear nothing. Deus nobiseum, * quis contra?' And 'the Queen for this did much com- ' mend him.' I hardly dare insert, but must not omit, the foolish story of his oflering to lose a tooth, to show the Queen, who shrank from the operation, that the pain was not so great. 2 If Aylmer was choleric, it was an infirmity. Even before the all-powerful Burleigh he could not control his temper, but he compelled Burleigh to gentleness. Bur- leigh's letter, in answer to an angry one of Bishop Ayl- mer's, is a model of respectful courtesy and of unshaken esteem for the Prelate, from a haughty Minister then at the height of his power. 3 But there are worse things recorded against Aylmer than adulation or momentary passion. The Bishop of London became a stern, it is not too strong a word, a cruel persecutor, perhaps of Catholics, certainly of Puritans. 4 Aylmer's visitation questions are severe, searching, inquisitorial. On one occasion he suspended thirty-eight of his clergy. 5 The Puritans were not men 1 Hallam, Constitutional Hist. vol. i. 4 On the authority for the story of pp. 275, 276. Hallam acknowledges his whipping a young Catholic girl, I that he is indebted for the passage am more sceptical than Mr. Hallam. It given at length to Dr. M*Crie. is rather hard to make his other cruel- 2 Strype, who tells the story, hopes ties corroborate a very questionable that Aylmer's was a rotten one. story. Note to Constitutional History. * The letter in Strype's ' Life of * Neal gives their names and bene- ' Aylmer.' fices (vol. i. p. HO). 300 MAKTIN MARPRELATE. CHAP, to submit tamely. They had now advanced far beyond ^ questions of habits and close conformity to the Liturgy, they had begun to question altogether episcopal authority: ' the Bishops were petty Popes, Antichrists/ Aylmer's earlier writings gave them some advantage. In his answer to Knox they found these words : ' Come off, ye f Bishops, yield up your superfluities, give up your thou- ' sands, be content with hundreds as they be in other * Reformed Churches, who be as great learned men as ye * are. Let your portion be priestlike, not princelike.' Aylmer was not unassailable on this point. He had begun his episcopate with an unseemly dispute about dilapida- tions ; he did not come clear out of a litigation for felling timber, elms at Fulham (in the Puritans' coarse humour he was called Elinar), and on other estates of the see ; he died, his enemies said, worth 16,000?., a vast sum in those days. In one case Aylmer was compelled to make compensation to an unhappy clergyman, whom he had illegally condemned. Aylmer struggled hard, pleaded poverty, but was forced to pay. It may be thought that Aylmer's meanness, yet tame servility, is more debas- ing than his pride and harshness. 6 Martin Marprelate now began to open upon the Bishops. Whitgift and Aylmer were the chief objects of his truculent satire. 7 He was never weary of dwelling on what we should per- haps pardon as slight aberrations in a Bishop, compared with his violations of justice, kindness, and charity his playing bowls on a Sunday afternoon (the Puritans were already stern Sabbatarians), and now and then an excla- Neal, vol. i. p. 443. had some hopes of being translated to 7 Martin Marprelate, p. 43, and other Ely ; the wits said he would then be passages. There are some more stories Elemar. Aylmer retorted on the wit in Harrington. ' Your name is Elmar, Mr. Madocks, by calling him Mad ox. ' and you have marred all the elms at Nuffts Antique, p. 32. ' Fulham by lopping them.' Aylmer BISHOP FLETCHER. 301 xnation escaped him during the heat of the game not CHAP. quite seemly from episcopal lips. Martin fills page after ,_1_ page with invectives against l dumb John of London.' It is presumed that Aylrner was not a frequent preacher. It is difficult to strike the balance between the bitter, coarse, and savage Marprelate (of whom Neal is heartily ashamed), and the gentle eulogy of Strype, with whom every Bishop is a model of goodness, learning, and piety. Yet even Strype makes some unfortunate admissions, and some not over happy apologies, for the habits and the avarice of Aylmer. Aylmer died in 1594, having made an attempt to leave London of which he was weary, and which no doubt was weary of him, for quiet and not less wealthy Ely. We close the line of Elizabethan Bishops of London. Aylmer's successor was a man of different, but not higher character. Richard Fletcher was the Dean of Peter- borough, who endeavoured to force his insolent and un- welcome ministrations on Mary Queen of Scots, before her execution at Fotheringay, and who alone uttered the stern amen to the Earl of Kent's imprecation (it was hardly less), ' So perish all the Queen's enemies.' Fletcher's zeal was not unrewarded. In 1589 he was Bishop of Bristol, in 1593 Bishop of Worcester, in 1594 Bishop of London. The ambitious man was now in the centre of the Court, within the charmed circle round which the Queen dispensed her smiles and uttered her inestim- ably gracious words. But Fletcher rashly married a second wife, a fine lady, the widow of Sir George Giffard, pro- bably wealthy. The Bishop must have been above fifty, for he entered at Cambridge in 1561. If the fine lady had any lofty hopes of entering the royal presence as wife of the Lord Bishop of London, she was doomed to sad disappointment. It fared worse with the Bishop. The virgin Queen, altogether averse to the marriage of the 302 FLETCHEE SUSPENDED. CHAP, clergy, would hardly endure a Bishop with one wife. Her _ T ' _^ insulting speech to Archbishop Parker's wife is well known : ' Madam I may not call you, mistress I will not ' call you, but I thank you for your good cheer.' 8 The husband of two wives (himself a widower, she a widow), was an utter abomination. Fletcher was not only re- pelled from the Court, he was wholly suspended from his functions. He made the meekest, the most humble sub- mission. The offence was inexpiable. It is said that somewhat later the Queen condescended to visit him at Chelsea, not, at Fulham. The suspension too after a time was revoked. But the Bishop pined in ignominious seclu- sion from the Court. If it be true that he died from an excess of indulgence in tobacco, it might be well that he did not last till the accession of James. 9 A digamous Bishop could be hardly more odious to Elizabeth, than a Bishop who indulged in the filthy weed, against which the King uttered his ' Blast.' I fear that my respect for Bishop Fletcher springs solely from his having been the father of Fletcher the dramatist. The author of ' Philaster,' * The Elder Brother,' 'The Faithful Shepherdess,' 'Rule a Wife and have a Wife,' might do honour to any parentage. But the Bishop's name and early instruction ought to have secured Fletcher the poet from being a sinner of sinners in the faults of his time, looseness too often sinking into obscenity, and very questionable morality. Bishop Fletcher died, after his short inglorious episco- pate, June 15, 1596. He was succeeded by Richard Ban- croft, already famous or notorious for his sermon at Paul's 8 Compare, on the whole subject, Hallam, Constitutional History, vol. i. p. 171, note. * Compare Niiga Antique, p. 47 : Here lies the first prelate made Christendom see A bishop a husband unto a ladye. The cause of his death was secret and hid : He cried out ' I dye,' and even so he did. NOWELL, DEAN OF S. PAUL'S. 303 Cross, A.D. 1588, on the Divine Origin of Episcopacy. The CHAP. celebrity of that sermon shows that this doctrine in its , distinct and positive form was not yet familiar to the general ear. The wiser defender of the Church of England, Richard Hooker (I wish that I could find the name of Hooker among the preachers at the Cross or in the Cathedral), had not yet come forward; the ' Ecclesiastical Polity 5 appeared in 1594. Richard Bancroft rose to London and to Can- terbury, Richard Hooker died Master of the Temple. During almost the whole reign of Elizabeth, and for a few years in that of James, Alexander Nowell, a divine of a higher stamp than all the later Bishops, including Ban- croft, was Dean of S. Paul's. It has been already said that the Catechism of Dean Nowell, after careful revision by some of the Bishops, was accepted, and has remained a standard authority as a large exposition of the Anglican doctrines. But in those days toleration, especially of Roman Catholics, in defiance of the Queen's wiser policy, was not, and could hardly be, among those doctrines. Nowell had incurred some unpopularity among the more moderate, for a fierce speech attributed to him. ' It ' would do me good to raze my buckler upon a Papist's ' face.' Nowell declared that it was a false lie, that he had never uttered such words. That the sentiment was not far from his heart, though he might repudiate the unclerical language, may appear from a passage in a ser- . mon delivered by him on the opening of Parliament. Furthermore, where the Queen's Majesty of her own nature is wholly given to clemency and mercy, as full well appeareth hitherto ; for in this realm was never seen a change so quiet and so long since reigning without blood (God be thanked for it) . Howbeit those which hitherto will not be reformed, but obstinate and can skill by no clemency or courtesy, ought otherwise to be used. But now will some say, ' Oh, bloody man that calleth this the house of right, and now would have it made a house of 304 NOWELL'S SEEMON. CHAP, blood ! ' But the Scripture teacheth us that divers faults ought XI - ^ to be punished by death, and therefore following God's precepts it cannot be accounted cruel. And it is not against this house, but the part thereof to see justice ministered to them who will abuse clemency. Therefore the goodness of Her Majesty's cle- mency may well and ought now therefore to be changed to justice, seeing it will not help. But now to explicate myself, I say, if any man keeping his opinion, will, and mind close within himself, and so not open the same, then he ought not to be punished, but when he openeth it abroad then it hurteth and ought to be cut off : And specially if in anything it touch the Queen's Majesty : for such errors or heresy ought not as well for God's quarrel as the realm's to be unlocked unto, for clemency ought not to be given to the wolves to kill and devour as they do the lambs, for which cause it ought to be foreseen, for that the Prince shall answer for all that so perish, it lying in her power to redress it, for by the Scriptures murderers, breakers of the holy day, and maintainers of false religion, ought to die by the sword. Also some other sharpe laws for adultery, and also for murder more stricter than for felony which in France is well used, as the wheel for the one, the halter for the other, which if we had here I doubt not within few years would save many a man's life. 1 But the date of this sermon must be noticed. It was in the year 1562-3, when the ashes of the Smithfield fires were hardly cool. John Felton's Bull and S. Bartholo- mew .were to come, though yet far off. Nowell, as we have seen, had some Puritanical procli- vities. He had no liking for the surplice, and repudiated the sign of the Cross. We have heard his protest against organs and antiphonal singing. But if Puritanical as to music, he was more indulgent to another of the fine arts. He was taken with some Scriptural engravings from Germany, no doubt some of those rude but spirited illus- 1 This paper has been communi- in the library of Caius College, Cam- cated to me by a friend, a distin- bridge, guished historian. It is from a MS. NOWELL'S GIFT TO THE QUEEN. 305 trations of sacred history in which the German Reformers CHAP. took delight. He placed in the Queen's closet at S. Paul's ^J^ 1 ' _ a splendid prayerbook, richly bound, and ornamented with these designs brilliantly illuminated. The Queen's Protestant zeal flared out against these idolatrous images, the Queen who had hardly given up her crucifix and lighted candles. ' Who placed this book on my cushion?' Her voice bespoke her anger. The trembling Dean ac- knowledged that he had. ' Wherefore did you so ? ' 'To ' present your Majesty with a New Tear's gift.' ' You ' could never present me with a worse.' ' Why so, ' Madam?' 'You know that I have an aversion to idol- ' atry.' ' Wherein is the idolatry, may it please your ' Majesty?' 'In the cuts resembling angels and saints; ' nay, grosser absurdities. Pictures resembling the ' blessed Trinity ! ' The Dean faltered out that he meant no harm. 'You must needs be ignorant then. Have ' you forgotten our proclamation against images, pictures, ' and Romish reliques in the churches ! Was it read in ' your deanery?' The Dean acknowledged that it was read, and again meekly pleaded ignorance. ' If so, Mr. ' Dean, God grant you His Spirit and more wisdom for the ' future.' The Queen then demanded where the pictures came from. When she heard that they came from Ger- many, ' It is well that it was a stranger. Had it been one ' of my subjects, we should have questioned the matter.' 2 Nowell was for a short time out of favour ; but we find him before long preaching at Court, and seemingly high in the Queen's esteem. But this was not his last col- lision with his imperious Mistress. He was preaching before her on Ash Wednesday, 1572. A book had been dedicated to the Queen as 'Principe e Vergine.' This irre- verent ' impudency,' as it seemed to Nowell, roused his in- - Strype, vol. i. p. 409. X 306 NOWELL AT NOKFOLK'S EXECUTION. CHAP, dignation. He inveighed against certain superstitions XI _^ r ' .. ^ and Popish customs in the book. In the warmth of his harangue the Puritan broke out, and he touched on the sign of the Cross. A voice was heard from the Boyal Closet the voice of the Queen commanding him to return from his ungodly digression, and revert to his text. The Dean was so utterly dismayed, that the Arch- bishop, to console him, carried him home to dinner. The next day Nowell addressed to Cecil the meekest and most submissive explanation, protesting his good intention, and most humble reverence for his Sovereign, whose gracious patience he had so often experienced. 3 The high position and character of Nowell, armed as he was with the learning of his Catechism, designated him as one of the chosen champions of the Queen and the religion of England. On the 2nd June, 1572, Nowell was sum- moned as -a Christian minister to attend the execution of the Duke of Norfolk. 4 The Duke's sentence had been wrung from, the reluctant Elizabeth. The depth of Nor- folk's treason, his undaunted mendacity the mendacity of the first noble in England was unknown to Nowell, unknown in its fulness till our own days, to which have been revealed his protestations of fidelity to the Pope, his petition for a dispensation to conceal his conversion to Popery, his correspondence with Alva. Nowell (not so the Spanish Ambassador who was present) might listen in unsuspecting simplicity to Norfolk's prayers for the long reign of her Majesty- that reign which he had been so long conspiring to bring to a speedy end. Nowell might 1 Churton's Life of Nowell, p. 111. niflcence to that college and other This ' Life' is a grateful tribute for charities, it maybe concluded that the the benefactions of Nowell to Erase- Deanery of S. Paul's had not suffered nose College, Oxford, of which college much in the general spoliation. Archdeacon Churton was a member, 4 Churton, pp. 209, 210. Froude, as was I also. From Nowell's mu- vol. x. p. 366. CONFEKENCE WITH CAMPIAN. 307 * believe him in earnest when he prayed for the peace of CHAP. Jerusalem. The Dean reminded him that Jerusalem was , the Church of Christ. 1 1 know it, Mr. Dean, and mean 4 by it the Church of this land, and all that believe in ' Christ.' It is said that he embraced No well with signs of loving affection, bowing his body to the ground with great humility. What was his secret talk with Nowell ? Nowell might not betray it, but it is to be feared that it was not a true confession of his base double-dealing. Nearly ten years after, the Deans of S. Paul's and Windsor were ordered to visit the famous Jesuit mis- sionary Campian in his dungeon in the Tower. They were to accept the challenge made by Campian, and to refute the ten reasons for the Roman doctrine, which Campian had declared unanswerable. The conference, especially the second meeting, seems to have been con- ducted with fairness, even with courtesy. Of course, in the dispute, both parties claimed the victory. The Catho- lics gave out that the Protestants were quite confounded. The Protestants, not content with asserting their own superiority, condescended to disparage the ability of Campian, and declared him incapable of writing the book which had appeared under his name. Other conferences were held, when E,eformers more puritanically inclined took up the warfare. But the reports published by the Protestants suppressed the terrible fact, that in the inter- vals between these conferences Campian had been cruelly tortured to force him to betray the hiding-place of his more dangerous colleague, Allen. Allen escaped to the Continent. But there is something so unspeakably, it must not be said unfair or ungenerous, but so inhuman and cowardly, in engaging in polemic contest with an antagonist shivering from the rack, his body distracted with torture, that I would willingly relieve the memory x 2 308 POLICY OF ELIZABETH. .1 CHAP, of Nowell from all concern in a proceeding of which, the "V"T . simplest Christian ought to have been ashamed ; and would catch at the hope that the conferences with the Dean of S. Paul's were before the torture. If otherwise, it may be said that Nowell could not disobey the Queen's command, and might shrink from the taunts, which would have been uttered if he had declined the contest, of want of zeal, and want of confidence in the goodness of his cause. Yet there is something sadly debasing in the contrast between the Jesuit, calm and with perfect self-command, maintaining this abstruse controversy, and suffering to the end with his maimed body but with unshaken reso- lution, and the prosperous Churchmen holding obstinate polemic strife with a prisoner sore from the rack, and irrevocably doomed to death. 5 The Dean of S. Paul's of the present day thanks God that he is spared such trials, as leave a blot, at all events a dark suspicion, on the fame of his pious and learned predecessor. S. Paul's did not witness any of the terrible proceedings against the missionary priests ; they were concealed in the dungeons of the Tower, or exhibited in public places of execution. Yet the antagonism of Nowell and Campian may suggest and justify some further brief observations. The policy of Elizabeth on her accession was, if not, as I believe, wise toleration, at least lenity towards her Roman Catholic subjects. The Queen might indeed foster the not unreasonable hope, that most of them might be persuaded, or gradually tempted, to accept the article of her creed which lay nearest to her heart. In the days of her father, the whole realm, the Parliament at least, almost the whole Church, Tunstall, Gardiner, Bonner, had acknowledged, some openly advocated, the Royal Supre- * It was pleaded in extenuation racked but that he could write with that Campian was not so cruelly ease. MISSIONARY PEIESTS. 309 macy, a separate question from the other Roman doc- CHAP, trines. With this she might be content. The Catholics *- , were long only oppressed by petty vexations, harassed by mulcts for not attending the Reformed worship ; but not a drop of blood had been shed, not a fagot lighted. Some of the dispossessed prelates lived in comfort in the hospitable houses of their successors ; Tunstall at Lam- beth. Even Bonner lived, if in prison, unmolested for near ten years. So great was the success of these milder measures of Elizabeth, that there was great alarm at Eome and on the Continent at the growing inclination of the Catholics at least to occasional conformity. Then came the Bull of Pope Pius : then from the Seminaries in Rome, in Spain, and Rheiins, and Douay, the missionary priests were poured in swarms into the kingdom. % Of these priests there were two classes, distinct, yet difficult to discriminate, sliding, as it were, one into the other. It would be bold to absolve even Campian from all knowledge or cognisance of the designs of the more dangerous Allen and Parsons. At all events, the Government could not, or would not, draw this fine and untraceable line. Yet the line was distinct and clear. One class, of which Campian was the representative, were men of earnest religion, deep impassioned religion, whose sole object was to save the imperilled souls of the faithful (of this they doubted not their full power), to instruct, to confirm the wavering, to console the afflicted, to administer the rites of their Church, almost indispen- sable to everlasting life, to baptize the infants, to bless the holy Eucharist, to administer the unction to the dying, to hear the long-suppressed confession, to grant the coveted absolution. To these offices they devoted themselves with heroic saintly self-sacrifice, in wanderings over the whole kingdom, hunted from house to house, in 310 DIFFERENCE OF PERSECUTION. all strange disguises and concealments ; immured in chambers or passages in which they could hardly stand upright; when detected or betrayed, doomed to the tor- ture, to cruel death. The other were designing desperate men, emissaries of foreign, of hostile Powers, Rome or Spain ; deep in treasonable conspiracies, 6 whose object was insurrection, rebellion, the dethronement, the death, of the Queen, it might be the subjugation, the enslavement of England to one of the great Catholic Powers. These mostly be- longed to a brotherhood, of which the avowed, published, proclaimed doctrine was the lawfulness, the duty of regicide, the regicide of sovereigns excommunicated by the Pope. Such were Allen, Parsons, and a formidable host of fanatic followers. I shall not be suspected of the desire to palliate, to mitigate the guilt and sin of religious persecution. But between the victims of the Marian fires and the execu- tions under Elizabeth there was a wide difference, a glaring distinction. Leaving out our martyrs from S. Paul's, most of the former were quiet, inoffensive, mostly loyal subjects, living in their own homes, many of them lowly men, artisans, tradesmen, and women, against whom the only charge was the worship of God according to their light and their conscience. The latter were either foreigners by birth, or long self-expatriated men, who came into the kingdom in defiance of the laws of the land ; some with blameless, admirable, holy aims ; others with the darkest, most treasonable designs, sworn foes to the State as well as to the Church of England. Of this enough, perhaps more than enough. Dean Nowell had the happiness, the pride of witnessing Read the letter of Saunders the gentry of Ireland (Ellis, 2nd series, Jesuit to the Catholic nobility and vol. iii. p. 92). DEFEAT OF THE AEMADA. 311 in S. Paul's the triumph of the Queen over her deadly CHAP. foes, the Pope and the King of Spain, in the discomfiture > ^ of the 'Invincible Armada.' Already, on September 8, the preacher at Paul's Cross had moved the people to give thanks to Gk>d for the overthrow of the Spaniards. Eleven ensigns taken in the ships were set on the lower battle- ments of the church, except one streamer, representing our Lady with the Saviour in her arms, which was waved over the Preacher. 7 On the Sunday, November 24, the Queen came in state to the Cathedral, with the Privy Council, the nobility, the French Ambassador, the Judges, the Heralds. The Queen rode, amid a blare of trumpets, in a chariot ' like a throne ' drawn by four stately white horses. The sermon was preached by the Bishop of Salis- bury, the Queen's Almoner. The procession returned, through the church, to the Bishop's palace (Aylmer was Bishop), who had the honour of entertaining her Majesty at dinner. The captured banners, which for some days waved over London, were finally suspended in the Cathedral. Bancroft, Bishop of London, and Nowell, Dean of S. Paul's, beheld the close of Elizabeth's reign; and Nowell who had seen as Dean, within a year or two, its whole course, what must he have felt when he compared the state of England, the state of the Church of England, at the accession of Queen Elizabeth and at her death ? Per- haps the world has rarely witnessed, history hardly records such a change, so important not alone to England, but to Europe, to the civilised world. Notwithstanding her feminine weaknesses, her outbursts of pride and passion, Nowell may well have excused to his conscience his having cowered before her presence, and accepted her supremacy with submission somewhat too humble. I must descend to matters comparatively trivial, and * Stowe's Annals, p. 751. 312 PLAYS AT S. PAUL'S. CHAP, almost ludicrous ; but the annalist of S. Paul's must not XI ^ ' disdain that which concerns the humblest who have been attached to the Cathedral, especially if the proceedings are characteristic of the times. It appears that the singing boys (the choristers) during the reign of Elizabeth and of James I. were a regular dramatic company. It might at first be supposed that it was the boys of S. Pauls (Colet's) School who are meant by the ( children of Powle's.' There can be no doubt that the Latin Moral, acted before A.D. 1528. Henry VIII., Wolsey, and the French Ambassador, in which Luther and his wife were brought on the stage, was acted by the children of that school, under the regulation of their master John Bightwise, most likely the author of the piece. 8 It is most probable, too, that f the children of ' Powle's ' who acted at Court, with those of the Grammar School at Westminster, were from Colet's School. But there is clear and abundant evidence, that the S. Paul's company was that of the choristers. This was in truth an inheritance from older times. Perhaps the earliest 'spectacle was that of the ' Boy Bishop,' so com- monly, like other ' Miracle Plays,' performed in churches and cathedrals. In the old statutes of S. Paul's are many orders about this mock solemnity. One is that the Canon called Stagiarius (the Residentiary) shall find the ' Boy Bishop ' his robes and horse. 9 In 1378, the choristers of S. Paul's Cathedral presented a petition to Richard II., praying him to prohibit ' ignorant e and inexperienced persons from acting the history of the ' Old Testament to the great prejudice of the clergy of the ' church,' who had gone to great cost for the representa- tion of such plays. 1 Bishop Bonner, centuries later, issued Collier, Hist, of the Stage, vol. i. Dean. Note to Warton, vol. iv. p. 146. p. 107. i Collier, Hist, of tfie Stage, vol. i. ' Equitatum honestum.' Dicetowas p. 17. PLAYS AT S. PAUL'S. 313 a proclamation to the clergy of his diocese, prohibiting all CHAP, manner of plays, games, or interludes to be played in their ,_ churches or chapels. 2 But the ' Boy Bishop ' survived, heard even by Queen Mary in her saddest hours. Dean Colet in his statutes had ordered the boys in his school, after sermon in the Cathedral, to rejoice themselves with this somewhat irreverent pastime. 3 Nevertheless that the standing company were the singing boys, there can be no doubt. Queen Elizabeth issued her license to one Gyles, master of the choristers, to take up children in any part of the kingdom to be trained for such entertainments. 4 Where was the choristers' theatre ? They sometimes were summoned to some distance to perform before the Queen. In her first year, Machyn records that the children of Powles played before Her Majesty at Nonsuch. 5 In S. Paul's it almost appears that the Cathedral itself, if not, some adjacent building within the precincts, was the theatre ; their singing school is named. 6 Plays usually began at three o'clock, but at S. Paul's they began at four, after prayers, and concluded before six, when the gates were shut. 7 What were the plays which they performed ? They certainly acted, but rather later, some of Lily's plays, and one of Middleton's. But there were some of a more questionable character. One of the earliest satires, ' The Songes of the Players,' denounces in strong but un- transcribable phrases the indecencies of these heathenish and idolatrous play-fables ; but this was of the Queen's Chapel. Another, by Stephen Gosson, in 1579, bitterly and justly complained that ' Cupid and Psyche' was played by the choristers of S. Paul's Cathedral. There seems then to have been some interference. The City of London which 2 W&Ttou,Hist.ofPoetry,vol.i\.p.7'i. * Machyn, p. 206. 1 Wartoii, vol. iii. p. 216. e Collier, vol. iii. p. 280. < Collier, vol. i. p. 265. ' Ibid. vol. iii. p. 377. 314 LOTTEKIES BEFORE S. PAUL'S. CHAP, always hated players, and was hated by the players in- T ' ^ terposed. The Lord Mayor issued an inhibition, especially against plays on Sundays, which seems to have been the common day for their performance. The Privy Council also proscribed this abuse. 8 Bishop Grindal, too, had fol- lowed the example of Bonner in protesting against these performances. But in a short time this inhibition was withdrawn or disregarded ; and it is certainly a curious fact, that the next play which we hear of was the exhibi- tion of ' Martin Marprelate.' 9 We trust that the Bishops Aylmer of London especially did not encourage this. But one writer seems to say that ' Martin Marprelate ' could be seen at S. Paul's for fourpence, the price of admis- sion at other theatres being twopence. In ' Jack Drum's ' Entertainment,' first published in 1601, are these lines SIR EDWARD FORTUNE : I saw the children of Powle's last night, And troth they pleased me pretty, pretty well. The apes in time will do it handsomely. 1 To this may be added, what to us may seem almost as extraordinary. The first lotteries in England of which we hear any account were drawn during the reign of Elizabeth at the West door of S. Paul's, in April 1569, 40,000 lots, at 10s. a lot. The prizes were plate, the profits to be applied to repairing the havens of the kingdom. This lottery began to be drawn January 11, and continued day and night to May 6. Of the second, in 1586, the prizes were rich and beautiful armour (the Armada Invasion was approaching) . A house of timber and board was erected at the great West gate of S. Paul's for the purpose. 2 For such things at the doors of churches we must now go to Rome. 8 ' The Children of the Chapel stript p. 345. ' and whipt,' 1569. Quoted in Notes ' Ibid. vol. i. p. 282. to Warton, vol. iv. p. 113. 2 Stowe, quoted in Ellis's Dugdde, Collier, vol. i. p. 281; vol. vii. p. 119. BISHOP BANCROFT AND JAMES I. 315 CHAPTER XII. S. PAUL'S UNDER JAMES I. THE Bishops of London during the reign of King James I., CHAP. XII with the exception of the hard anti-Puritan Bancroft , ,_!_ and the milder half-Puritan Abbot, were not men of great distinction even in their own day ; and Bancroft and Abbot (he was Bishop of London only one short year) belong rather to Canterbury than to London. Bancroft, who ruled from 1597 to 1604, officiated no doubt at the accession of James, as Bishop of London. Bancroft, at the Hampton Court Conference, bore the brunt in the col- lision between ' the right divine of episcopacy ' and ' the ' right divine of the " Book of Discipline." Both parties were firmly and profoundly convinced that God and the Gospel were clearly, decisively, on their side. Neither had the slightest inclination to respect the right of con- science in the other. Sacerdotal tyranny, whether of Bishop or Presbyter, was alike irreclaimably despotic (so honest Neal, the historian of the Puritans, acknowledges), alike determined to compel their adversaries to come into their peculiar notions. It was Bancroft who, in an agony of wrath against the obstinate objections urged by the Puritans, fell on his knees before the King, citing an ancient canon that schismatics are not to be heard before their Bishops. King James had never seen a churchman at his feet before. How different had been the attitude of the Clergy in his native land ; their feet had been con- stantly on his neck. He gently rebuked the passion of 316 BISHOP BANCROFT, BISHOP OF LONDON. CHAP. Bancroft: but from that hour the Solomon of his day XII r ' embraced in his heart the text, ' No Bishop, no King ! ' He was shrewd enough to see the difference between kneeling Bishops and Presbyters who held their heads higher than their Sovereign, and bearded him to his face. He treated the Puritan divines with more and more deter- mined repugnancy ; his language was not coarse only, it was absolutely indecent ; but Bancroft fell on his knees again, not now in wrath but in an ecstasy of admiration, and declared that his heart melted with joy, that 'Almighty ' God of His singular mercy had given us such a King, ' as since Christ's time had not been.' 1 A few weeks after Whitgift died ; Bancroft moved upward to Canterbury. In the fourth year of King James (A.D. 1605) S. Paul's beheld at the West door the terrible execution of some of the conspirators in the Gunpowder Treason. Pour of them, with Faux, suffered near the scene of their medi- tated crime at Westminster. Pour Sir Everard Digby, Winter, Grant, and Bates were hanged, drawn, and quartered. The City must behold the awful spectacle at the west end of S. Paul's. It was not till the next year that Garnet the Jesuit, after long examination, suffered the like fate in S. Paul's Churchyard. 2 The dilapidated state of the Cathedral (the tower had never been rebuilt) called imperiously for a large ex- penditure. But on whom was this to fall ? The King had seen, no doubt, many ruinous or ruined cathedrals in his native land, and they were of inauspicious omen. Never- theless the King addressed a letter 3 to the Bishop of London in which appears this alarming passage, that the 1 See all the accounts of the Con- 2 Fuller, vol. v. pp. 351, 360. ferences, that especially in the ' Nugse s The letter in Wilkins from Eush- ' Antiquse,' vol. i. p. 181, which, though worth, vol. iv. p. 433, dated 1608. sarcastic, I see no reason to mistrust. Eavis must have been bishop. STATE OF THE CHUKCH. 317 Crown being poor (in James's time the Crown was always CHAP. poor) declined altogether the burthen. ' Among the pos- -_ ,-L. ' sessions that belong to that see, there be lands especially ' appropriated to the fabric of the church, which, if they ' had been continually employed to this use, these decays ' would not have gone so far.' A certificate, the King pro- ceeds, must be made to us of such possessions of the Church as be appropriated to the fabric thereof, and -what yearly rent they be of. A Royal Commission was ap- pointed, which comprehended all the great dignitaries of the Church and State, the Lord Mayor and chief func- tionaries of the city. Before this Commission it was ac- knowledged that the Bishop of London had peculiar care of the whole body of the church, the Dean and Chapter of the choir ; ' but that which each of them enjoyed as to ' this purpose was so little as that they yearly expended ' double as much upon the roof and other parts decayed, ' to preserve them from present ruin. The Church, from ' its foundation, had been supported partly out of the ' large oblations of those that visited the shrines and ' oratories therein, partly from public contributions.' It is said that some of the commissioners aimed ' at the * wreck ' of the Bishop and the Clergy of the Church. Lord Southampton and other zealous churchmen inter- posed to protect them. Some incidental notices show that the Bishops of London had charged themselves, or had been charged, with considerable sums as dilapidations for the repair of the body of the church. Grindal had bestowed on the repairs of the Cathedral, &c., 1,1 841. 18s. ll^tZ. 4 Bishop Aylmer claimed of his predecessor, Sandys, 309L for dilapidations on the church. On Bancroft's ele- vation the charge of repairing the church was estimated 4 Strype's Grindal, p. 431. Strype's Aylmer. 318 KING JAMES .IN S. PAUL'S. CHAP, at 4.051L 5 It was proved however, to the satisfaction of XII / , ' the Commission, that whatever were the episcopal estates chargeable with the repair of the church, they were of very small, altogether inadequate, value. The Church of S. Paul's was a national one, and must, therefore, be maintained and adorned by public contributions. Nothing, however, was done. Twelve years after (accord- ing to old Dugdale), f the princely heart of King James, ' having received many petitions on the subject, was ' moved with such compassion of the decayed fabric/ that he came in great state hither on horseback (March 26, 1620), with all the Lords and great officers in state. 6 He was met by the Lord Mayor, and received by the Dean and Canons under a canopy, with the whole band of choristers. He entered the church, knelt and prayed at the West door, near ' the brazen pillar ; ' then proceeded up the church, the singers chanting before him, to the choir, where an anthem was sung. They then went to the Cross, where a sermon was preached by King, Bishop of London, from the appropriate words (Psalm cii. 13, 14), ' Thy ser- ' vants think upon her stones, and it pitieth them to see her ( in the dust.' The King with his retinue was entertained at a splendid banquet in the Bishop's palace. 7 Then followed, in a few days, a royal Commission, under the Great Seal, with a noble list of commissioners, among them Inigo Jones, the King's surveyor. The King headed the subscription, with what sum appears not, or whether it was paid. The nobility and many more f following very ' cheerfully therein ; but of the actual number there is the ' same silence.' The Bishop offered 100Z. annually, but his death followed soon. An estimate was, however, made of the total sum wanted : * Strype's Whitgift, vol. ii. p. 391. pendix. The procession in Dugdale's Ap- T Dugdale, p. 436. BISHOPS OF LONDON. 319 s. d. CHAP. For the choir . . . 1,6 J 9 4 1 The steeple .... 12,015 15 The nave and aisles . . 6,891 19 4 The transepts . . . . 1,647 4 5 The chapter house . . 361 19 5 Total . . . 22,536 2 3 8 We hear nothing of the City, whether it was cold to the appeal to their benevolence. Nothing, however, was begun till the accession of Charles I. and the episcopate of Laud. One thing only creeps out, that Buckingham borrowed the stone collected for the repairs, certainly for a beautiful building, the Water Gate, erected by Inigo Jones, at the bottom of the garden behind his sumptuous palace in the Strand. The site is now covered by Villiers Street, Buckingham Street, and other buildings. The Bishops of London during the reign of James (it has been said) were mostly men unknown to posterity. To Bancroft succeeded Bichard Yaughan, chaplain and cousin to Bishop Aylmer. Of him it is said ' that he pos- ' sessed gifts inferior to none.' The ungrateful world soon forgot those gifts. 9 Then came Thomas Eavis, translated from Gloucester, installed June 2, 1607. Bishop Eavis lives a life known to few but to the lovers of our old poetry in an epitaph, written by a brother Bishop, ' the best poet,' as he was said to be, * of all the Bishops in England.' Corbet had been Dean of Christchurch. The poem is perhaps of earlier date than his deanery, certainly than his bishopric. It is curious, as dwelling on the still un- checked abuses in S. Paul's, and contains some happy thoughts, happily expressed. Eavis was buried in the Cathedral, then without a monument : 8 Malcolm, ' Londinium Kedivivum,' are some anecdotes of Vaughan's (or vol. iii. pp. 74, 75. Vaghan's) facetiousness in Harrington, 9 Newcourt's Eepertorium. There vol. ii. p. 48. 320 EPITAPH ON BISHOP EAVIS. CHAP. When I past Paul's and travelled in that walk Where all our Britaine- sinners sweare and talk ; Ould hardy ruffians, bankrupts, soothsayers, And youths whose cousenage is as old as theirs, And then behold the body of my Lord Trod underfoot, by vice which he abhorred, It wounded me, the Landlord of all times Should let long lives and leases to their crimes ; And to his springing honour did afford Scarce so much time as to the Prophet's gourd. Yet since swift nights of virtue have apt ends, Like breath of angels, which a blessing sends And vanisheth withall, whilst fouler deeds Expect a tedious harvest for bad seeds ; I blame not fame and nature, if they ave, When they could give no more, their last, a grave ; And wisely do thy grieved friends forbeare Bubbles and alabaster boys to reare On thy religious dust, for men did know Thy life, which such illusions cannot show. For thou hast trod among those happy ones Who trust not in their superscriptions: Their hired epitaphs and perjured stone, Which oft belies the soul when it is gone; And dar'st commit thy body, as it lyes, To tongues of living men, nay unborne eyes. What profit then a sheet of lead ? What good If on thy corse a marble quarry stood ? Let those that fear their rising, purchase vaults, And reare them statues to excuse their faults, Whilst thou assured, through thy easier dust, Shall rise at first ; they would not, though they must. 1 Corbet gave more substantial evidence of his respect for the Cathedral than his verses. As Bishop of Norwich he contributed 400 1. a large sum in those days to the repairs under Laud. In Bishop Corbet's address to his Clergy, urging sub- scriptions, are these whimsical sentences : ' It hath twice 1 The Poem ; and what is given of of his Poems by Gilchrist and the the life of Corbet, is from the edition Biography. BISHOP JOHN KING. 321 ' suffered martyrdom, and both by fire in the time of CHAP. ' Henry VI. and the third of Elizabeth. S. Paul com- *-' , ' ' plained of stoning twice ; the Church of firing. Stoning ' she awaits indeed, and a good stoning would repair her.' Corbet is known to lovers of old poetry, not only by his epitaph, but by his ' Farewell Rewards and Fairies ' and the ' Distracted Puritan/ He was a blameless Prelate, and, though a friend of Laud, too gentle to be a persecutor. George Abbot passed through London to Canterbury, February 12, 1609, he was translated the year after. John King, in 1611, was appointed Bishop of London by King James. James in his small wit called him the king of preachers. He was renowned for * a most excel- ' lent volubility of speech.' 2 He was an active as well as fluent preacher. ' He omitted no Sunday, whereon ' he did not mount the pulpit in London or near it.' 3 Over King's costly tomb in the Cathedral was a long poem, in Latin hendecasyllables, with considerable clever- ness and masterly Latinity, refuting with the fiercest energy the charge of his apostasy to Rome, and assert- ing his firm fidelity to the Church of England. For my part, I could make him over without regret to the Church of Rome, for he was the last Bishop of the Church of England who (with another, the Bishop of Lichfield) put in force the statute for the burning of heretics. It was in the Consistory Court of the Bishop of London that his victim, Bartholomew Leggatt, ac- cused of Arianism, was made over to the civil power and burned at the stake. For the last time the atmosphere of London was tainted with the reek of a holocaust for that crime. Leggatt was offered a pardon on recan- tation, refused it, and died a martyr for his faith. A 2 Newcourt, in vitd. * Fuller, vol. T. p. 499. 322 DEAN OVERALL. CHAP. Spaniard, accused of the same crime, escaped, the popular _ X * L _^ feeling being so strong against his execution. 4 King was succeeded by George Montaigne, remarkable only by the quick rapidity with which he ascended the steps of ecclesiastical dignity ; as Dean of Westminster, Bishop of Lincoln, Bishop of London, Bishop of Durham, Arch- bishop of York. 5 Before the Elizabethan Eeformation, the Deans of S. Paul's, with the exception of Diceto, the admirable Colet, and Pace, a statesman rather than a divine, were men perhaps of piety and wisdom in their own day, but left no mark on their age, and have sunk into utter oblivion. After Elizabeth there was a succession, though not an un- broken succession, of Deans who were of the highest dis- tinction in the Anglican Church. Of this period were Nowell, Overall, and, greater than these, John Donne. Overall was Dean from 1604 to 1614. The work by which Overall is distinguished is usually designated as Bishop Overall's Con- vocation-book. It was composed, however, and derives all its authority as coming from Overall when, being Dean of S. Paul's, he sate as Prolocutor in the Lower House of Convocation. How much of the book is Overall's cannot be ascertained, but it received the unanimous assent of the Lower House. It is a book of much importance in the history of English religious opinion, though it is for- tunate that the jealousy of King James put a stop to the proceedings. These Canons, therefore, never having been ratified by the Crown, have no legal authority whatever, at least over the laity. Yet they are curious documents, as showing the danger* which the English Church ran if it had been bound by the narrow legislation of Convoca- tion. The book is one of great controversial powers. It contests the Papal Supremacy with arguments of the ut- 4 To the regret, I grieve to say, of * See Newcourt, in mt&. honest Fuller the Historian. DEAN JOHN DONNE. 323 most force, solidity, and with a knowledge of ecclesiastical CHAP. "YTT history almost singular in that time. It asserts the Royal -_ Supremacy so strongly, distinctly, conclusively, that we almost wonder at the King's scruples. That vital question has hardly ever been maintained with so much vigour and judgment as by Bishop Overall's Convocation-book. But Overall, not content with demolishing the Papal and establishing the Kingly supremacy in the Church, rushes into the other extreme, and exalts the Royal prerogative in the State to such a height as to rouse our constitutional historian from his usual judicial calmness to indignation. The second canon proscribes any notion that government is in any way derived from the people. ' Passive obedience * in all cases, without exception, to the established power is ' inculcated.' 6 The right divine of the Pope to rule with uncontrolled despotism over the whole world is rejected, in order to establish the right divine of each King to rule with absolute autocracy in his kingdom. This makes the King's sensitive jealousy of their power even more extraor- dinary. For the rest, the Church of England may rejoice in her escape from the fetters rigidly but unintelligently restrictive, which would for ever have hindered her free development, and left her the slave of minute, inevitably obsolete regulations. I gladly pass to the wiser Donne. The fame of Donne had the good fortune of being re- corded in one of those charming popular Jbiographies by Isaak Walton, which will last as long as English literature lasts ; and his life deserved to be recorded by a writer whose words will not die away from the religious mind of Eng- land. That life was a singular combination of romance and of poetry in its beginning, of grave and solemn wisdom and holiness at its close. Donne was born and brought up a Roman Catholic. By his own profound, patient, and 6 Hallam's Constitutional History, vol. i. p. 316. Compare note, p. 409. T 2 324 DONNE'S EAELY LIFE. CHAP, conscientious study lie wrought out his own conversion. __ x f I '_ J But his aim was to become a good Christian man of the world, not a divine or an ecclesiastic. His early works singularly contrast with the deep and earnest thought of a mind seriously and earnestly working out its own reli- gion; and Donne's early life was one of adventure. In 1596 (he was born in 1573) he embarked with the expedition of the Earl of Essex to Spain. He had a vision, not out of pure pilgrim-like devotion, of wandering to the Holy Land. On his return to England he was appointed Secre- tary to Sir Thomas Egerton, afterwards the Lord Chancel- lor Ellesmere. In the household of the future Chancellor he became desperately enamoured of a niece of Egerton's, daughter of Sir George Moore, who held the high offices of Chancellor of the Garter and Governor of the Tower. The young lady returned his affection with devoted ten- derness and fidelity. Their attachment (a secret marriage took place) endured to the end of their lives. The father was indignant ; Donne was dismissed from the service of Lord Ellesmere. He was thrown into prison, and not he alone, but with him his two friends, the witnesses to the marriage. Donne at length obtained his own liberty, but had more difficulty in procuring the release of his more blameless friends. ' John Donne, undone,' was the ex- pression of the bitterness of his despair. But he had the gift of making valuable and generous friends. He was received into the house of Sir Francis Wolly at Picford in Surrey. He resided there till Wolly's death. He was then taken up by Sir Robert Drury, in his house in Drury Lane. Sir Robert Drury being sent on a diplomatic mis- sion to Paris, he was accompanied by Donne. Donne is the only Dean of S. Paul's, till a very late successor, who was guilty of poetry. Mr. Campbell has justly said that Donne's life is more poetical than his poetry. As a poet, he has in a high degree the faults DONNE'S POETRY. 325 and but few of the beauties of his age. I give one grace- CHAP. XII ful sample of his lighter pieces, if that word may fairly be > ,,__ used, of the generally hard, harsh, inharmonious lyrics, crowded with incongruous, laborious conceits, with here and there a stanza gleaming out in rare fancifulness and sweetness : Send home my long straid eyes to me, Which, oh, too long ! have dwelt on thee ; Yet since from you they have learned such ill, Such forc'd fashions, And false passions, That they see Made by thee, Yet for no good sight, keep them still. Send home my harmless heart againe, Which no unworthy thought should stain ; But if it has been taught by thine To make jestings Of protestings, And break both Word and oath, Keep it, for then 'tis none of mine. Yet send me back my heart and eyes, That I may know and see thy lies, And may laugh and joy when thou Art in anguish, And dost languish For some one That will none, Or prove as false as thou art now. 7 His rough satires needed the clear style of Pope to make them, not pleasing only but even intelligible. One poem, however, was unearthed by the fine judgement of Charles Lamb, though rough, of great beauty. 8 Donne's mistress his wife, I cannot for an instant doubt had offered to accompany him abroad in the disguise of a 7 Poems, p. 36. * In his Specimens of Dramatic Poets. 326 DONNE'S POETEY. CHAP, page. 9 The poet would dissuade her from this perilous __L r _l-' proof of her affection. I omit a few lines, which, too much in the spirit of the age, mar the exquisite delicacy as well as feeling : By our first strange and fatal interview, By all desires which thereof did ensue, By our long starving hopes, by that remorse Which my words masculine, persuasive force, Begat in thee ; and by the memory Of hurts, which spies and rivals threatened me, I calmly beg. But by thy father's wrath, By all pains which want and divorcement hath, I conjure thee ; and all the oaths that I And thou have sworn to seal joint constancy, Here I unswear and overswear thee thus, Thou shalt not love by ways so dangerous. Temper, fair Love, Love's impetuous rage ; Be my true Mistress, not my feigned Page. I'll go, and by thy kind leave, leave behind Thee only worthy to nurse in my mind. Think to come back. Oh !-if thou die before, My soul from other lands to thee shall soar. Thy (else almighty) beauty cannot move Rage from the seas, nor thy love teach them love, Nor tame wild Boreas' harshness ; thou hast read, How roughly he to pieces shivered Fair Orythea, whom he swore he loved. Falls ill or good, 'tis madness to have proved Dangers conurged. Feed on this flattery, That absent lovers one in the other be. Dissemble nothing, not a boy, nor change Thy bodies' habits, nor mind's ; be not strange To thyself only. All will spie in thy face, A blushing, womanly, discovering grace. * ***** 9 There is some slight difficulty in was in Paris when the Dauphin, after- this, arising from the date of his visit wards Louis XIV., was in his child- to Paris with Sir Robert Drury. But hood. The Poem, however,' seems to from his own letter (Letter xlviii.), it point to an early date in the annals of is clear that he was more than once their love, in Paris : ' when I was last there.' He DONNE'S SERMONS. 327 CHAP. stay here, for, for th.ee XII. England is only a worthy gallerie, To walk in expectation, till from thence Our greatest King call thee to his presence. When I am gone, dream me some happiness, Nor let thy looks our long-hid love confess, Nor praise, nor dispraise me, nor bless, nor curse Openly love's force ; nor in bed fright thy nurse, With midnight's startlings, crying out ' Oh ! oh ! ' Nurse, my love is slain ; I saw him goe ' O'er the white Alps alone ; I saw him, I, ' Assail'd, fight, taken, stabb'd, bleed, fall, and die.' Augur me better chance, except dread Jove ; Think it enough for me to have had thy love. With, this loving wife Donne lived to have twelve children, seven of whom survived their mother. She did not die till after he had taken orders. Donne had the fondness and the fortitude to preach her funeral sermon. Before that sad time, the poet had become a famous preacher, a more famous preacher in his own day than poet. But poetry, if it lives, lives as appealing to the unchangeable, inextinguishable sympathies of the human heart. Eloquence, except in very rare cases, is only of its own day. It addresses the mind, the feelings, the passions, the interests of its own immediate audience. It grows out of the circumstances of the times ; with the change in those circumstances it mostly loses its power and influ- ence. Even pulpit eloquence, though it dwells on subjects of enduring importance, though its great truths are eter- nal, unvariable as Christianity itself, is hardly an excep- tion. The Christianity of one age, of one social state, not only of one form of religious creed, but of one phase of religious interest and emotion, is not entirely and absolutely the Christianity of another, certainly not of all ages. There are few generally accepted models of Chris- tian eloquence, except, perhaps, the French, and those 328 DONNE'S PKEACHING. CHAP, with some reservation by all but very enlightened Protes- , ' tants. Demosthenes and Cicero are more universally read, even in the Christian world, than Basil, Chrysostom, or Augustine. It is difficult for a Dean of our rapid and restless days to imagine, when he surveys the massy folios of Donne's sermons each sermon spreads out over many pages a vast congregation in the Cathedral or at Paul's Cross, listening not only with patience but with absorbed interest, with unflagging attention, even with delight and rapture, to those interminable disquisitions, to us teeming with laboured obscurity, false and misplaced wit, fatiguing an- titheses. However set off, as by all accounts they were, by a most graceful and impressive delivery, it is astonish- ing to us that he should hold a London congregation enthralled, unwearied, unsatiated. Yet there can be no doubt that this was the case. And this congregation con- sisted, both of the people down to the lowest and of the most noble, wise, accomplished of that highly intellectual age. They sate, even stood, undisturbed, except by their own murmurs of admiration, sometimes by hardly sup- pressed tears. One of Donne's poetical panegyrists writes : And never were we wearied, till we saw The hour, and but an hour, to end did draw. It must have been quick work to have dispatched one of the sermons of Donne, as printed, in an hour. The Latin poet is even more laudatory, and more particular in his praises. They are noble lines, and worthy to be read, as descriptive of a great Christian orator : Audivi, et stupui, quoties Orator in sede Paulina stetit, et mira gravitate levantes Corda oculosque viros tenuit, dum Nestoris ille Fudit verba, omni quanto mage dulcia melle. Nuno hahet attonitos, fundit mysteria plebi DONNE'S PEEACHING. 329 Non concessa prius, nondum intellecta ; revolvunt CHAP. Mirantes, tacitique arrectis auribus astant. Mutatis mox ille modis formaque loquendi Tristia pertrectat, fatnmque et flebile mortis Tempus, et in cineres redeunt quod corpora priscos ; Turn gemitum cunctos dare, turn lugere videres ; Forsitan a lacrymis aliquis non temperat, atque Ex oculis largum stillat rorem. 1 Coleridge, perhaps almost alone of modern readers, delighted to wander in the wide and intricate mazes of Donne's theology. In one of his caprices of orthodoxy (the Enquiring spirit has not yet made its confessions), he sets tip Donne above one of his great quaternion of English writers, Shakspeare, Hooker, Bacon, Jeremy Taylor. Yet, not carrying admiration quite so far, any one who will give himself to the work will find in Donne a wonderful solidity of thought, a sustained majesty, an earnest force, almost unrivalled, with passages occa- sionally of splendid, almost impassioned devotion. The learning of Donne is in general singularly apposite, and rarely obtrusive or ostentatious ; the theology, masculine but not scholastically logical. Even what in those days was esteemed wit, which ran wild in his poetry, and suffocated the graceful and passionate thoughts, is in his prose under control and discipline. Donne's calm and modest piety had long shrunk from the responsibility of entering into holy orders. He was al- most compelled to be an ecclesiastic ; and greater force was necessary to induce him to accept the dignity and under- take the arduous and eminent office of Dean of S. Paul's. As Dean pf S. Paul's he must have done much to main- tain the high position and popularity of the Cathedral, which was ominously threatened by advancing Puritanism. Such a preacher, followed by such multitudes, must have 1 See the whole poem, by Dannelly, in Alford's edition of Donne's works. 330 DEAN WIKNII. CHAP, overawed, if lie did not win, the hearts of those who would VTT ' - reduce the worship of the Church of England to the humblest edifice and the scantiest ritual. It is perhaps well, that of the scattered and calcined monuments dug out of the ruins of the great fire, the older Clergy are represented by the yet recognisable figure of Dean Donne in his shroud. Thomas Winnif (I pursue the line of Deans to the Cromwellian Revolution) succeeded Donne. He was Dean 1631-1654. Winnif had been, as a preacher, in high favour at the court of James; but his sagacious good sense interfered with his favour as a courtier, a rare course among the divines of those days. He had the wisdom to foresee, and not the timidity to conceal his foresight of, the perils which would ensue from the connection with the Elector Palatine. He compared Spinola to a wolf, the Palatine to a lamb. Nor did he dissemble his dislike of the Spanish match. For these offences, such was the inde- pendence of court divines, he was in danger of losing his spiritualities. King James interfered, it is said, out of respect for Winnif's learning. Had he in one of his more keen-sighted moments caught a glimpse of the wisdom of the Dean's predictions ? Under James, Winnif had become Dean of Gloucester. With Charles I., Win- nif rose to higher and more unquestioned favour. He was advanced to the Deanery of S. Paul's, to have in a few years his revenues escheated, his house seized and alien- ated, his Cathedral left to utter ruin. He had purchase/! the advowson of Lambourn, in Essex. Thither he retired during the civil wars. There he lived and died, it would seem, undisturbed by the Parliamentary Tryers, either through good fortune or from respect for his character. 2 2 Newcourt. Wood's Athence Oxonienses. CHARLES I. 331 CHAPTEE XIII. S. PAUL'S UNDER CHAELES I. RESTORATION BY INIGO JONES. BEFORE these dark days, however, thus anticipated, dur- CHAP, ing the reign of Charles I. and the episcopate of Laud, *-" , designs had been formed and partially carried out to re- store the Cathedral to its old august majesty. S. Paul's, under King Charles and Bishop Laud, was to rise out of the miserable decay and neglected, or but partially averted, ruin, in which it had lain during the latter part of Elizabeth's reign and that of James. This was a work which appealed to the higher nature of Laud. Laud is, in my judgement, a melancholy ex- emplification of the appalling fact that some of the nobler qualities of the Churchman may coexist with the total want of the purest Christian virtues, and blend with some of the worst, most unchristian vices. Laud must have been a man of ability. Though he owed his great advance- ment too much to sycophancy of unworthy favourites and to court intrigues ; yet to rise as he did, implies no com- mon man : his daring design of establishing an episcopal tyranny side by side with a kingly tyranny, was no vulgar ambition. He was earnest, sincere, full of strong though strangely blind and misjudging zeal for what he held to be the purest form of Christianity. He was a prodigal patron of letters and of erudition, beyond the narrow mnge to which erudition was then confined. He had some learn- 332 BISHOP LAUD. CHAP, ing, though we may wonder that the age which could _ T I.* read Chillingworth (Chillingworth wrote somewhat later) could dwell with admiration on the dull scholastic reply to Fisher the Jesuit. The rest of his writings are below contempt, and betray, or rather dwell with pride on, a feeble superstition, and a most debasing view of God and his providence. With a mind expanding in some respects beyond the narrow Calvinism of his day, Laud is cowering before dreams and omens. He was munificent, almost magnificent : no one ever accused Laud of avarice or love of money. He was himself rigid to austerity : though too indulgent to the profligates around him, his own morals were unimpeached ; he was never charged with in- temperance or excess. But the peculiar virtues which Laud wanted were meekness, humility, forbearance, forgiveness, mercy, charity in its wide and Pauline sense. The vices which he displayed were the more fatal from his high position, which commanded, and still commands, the des- perate admiration of those who dwell more on the Church than on the religion which that Church was founded to pro- mulgate and maintain. Among those vices were servility to the great, haughtiness to the lowly ; the sternest, most im- placable intolerance, hard cruelty. His excuse for his share in the barbarous punishment of some of the more auda- cious Puritans, that he was but one member of the High Commission Court, and that others were as harsh as him- self, is to me a most hateful subterfuge, as if in such a court, and in such cases, a gentle word, a merciful hint or a look from the Primate, would not have arrested the barbarous judgements. Nor can he be acquitted of the savage exulta- tion, the outburst of passionate gratefulness to God for the revolting punishment awarded to Leighton. Absolve Laud from* all traitorous inclinations to Eome (the story of the offer and of the rejection of the Cardinal's hat is of very CIIAKACTEE OF LAUD. 333 doubtful authority) ; admit that his scheme was to expand CHAP, the doctrine of the Church of England to wider views, to XI r n L break the iron bonds of the Calvinism in which she was bound hand and foot. We condone, more than condone, we enter fully into, his Arminianism, then as odious as Arianism, Pelagianism, Deism, and Atheism, with which it was consorted in popular language. Admit that he would have raised the services of the Church to a more stately ceremonial, and no more. Yet he was singularly .unfor- tunate, as well as unwise ; his very person was against him, his mean stature, and dark, harsh features were unfitted for the character of a lofty and imposing high- priest. But, what is most remarkable, Laud, who held the highest notion of the divine rights of episcopacy, so long as those rights were to be maintained in re- mote and obscure dioceses, was singularly remiss in the divine duties of episcopacy. For eight years he held the Bishopric of S. David's, and that of Bath and Wells. After his first visitation of S. David's, which he held for six years, the Welsh clergy and the Welsh people saw the face of their Bishop (as appears from his diary) but once, and after an interval of five years. I find no record of his visiting even once the bishopric of Bath and Wells. Laud must remain in London, to watch his opportunities of ad- vancement, to take care of the interests of his ambition, to haunt the splendid saloons or private chamber of Buckingham, and to preach before the King. And sin in high places had not much to dread from the rebukes of Laud. He even gave a scandalous sanction to one of the worst acts of a profligate favourite, which he confessed himself with words of the bitterest repentance. Meanwhile to the too austere life, to the extravagant, no doubt, and intolerant discipline of the Puritans, he showed no indul- gence. His presence, too, is necessary in the Star Cham- 334 INIGO JONES. CHAP, ber and in the High Commission Court. Of his own acts X]IL - in those courts he writes coldly, without a touch of pity, rather with complacent self-satisfaction. As Bishop of London, Laud was in the high sphere of his ambition. The affairs of London might satisfy the mind of him who disdained the humbler duties of S. David's and Bath and Wells. One of his first objects (he records it of himself) was the restoration of S. Paul's. With his influence it was not difficult to work, for such an aim, on the congenial mind of the King. Of the royal qualities of Charles, one of the most kingly, perhaps the most kingly, was his enlightened love of the fine arts. He who was peopling the walls of Whitehall (rising under his auspices) with the most exquisite paintings of Kaffaelle and Titian (some of them now the glory of the gallery at Madrid) was not likely to be without interest in the resto- ration and adornment of the cathedral of the metropolis by Inigo Jones. Inigo Jones was now at the height of his renown. He . ;. had already designed the great palace of Whitehall, one part alone of which, alas ! he was to achieve, the Ban- queting House ; yet that alone was enough for his fame. He was Surveyor to the King ; he had been included in the original commission of King James for the repair of the Cathedral. He was not only at the summit of, but stood almost alone in, the noble profession of architecture. * The funds flowed rapidly in. The King, when the design for Inigo's portico appeared, expressed his determination himself to defray the cost of that part of the work. Laud, as appears from his own statement, and he was not a man to boast of his munificence, contributed, first and last, 1 It is curious that Inigo Jones Bridge Street, Westminster, close upon was born in the immediate neighbour- the site of his great work. hood of S. Paul's, as Sir C. Barry in COMMENCEMENT OF WOEKS. 335 twelve hundred pounds, in those days a great sum. But CHAP. XIII Laud, in his blind zeal, loaded the fund with a very pro- , ductive but highly unpopular source of revenue. The _ ,' High Commission Court had assumed the power, as Cla- rendon more than admits, the illegal power, of inflicting, heavy mulcts, not for recusancy only, but for all kinds of / moral delinquencies, and these fines were imposed with no .'.. sparing hand. This was afterwards bitterly remembered, " no doubt by those on whom the fines were levied. The common saying spread abroad again, that, in another sense, S. Paul's was restored out of the sins of the people. The works commenced without delay, and were carried on with a high hand. The mean shops and houses which crowded on the church, especially on the West front, disappeared. The owners and tenants were compelled to . accept what the authorities thought adequate, they, of course, inadequate, compensation. 2 The demolition of these houses, and the ejection of their inhabitants, was among the charges against Laud at his trial. Laud excused himself by alleging that it was done by Commissioners under the authority of the Council. He threw, too, the chief blame on the Dean and Chapter, who, to increase their own revenues, had allowed these houses to be built , on consecrated ground. By an extraordinary, and it 2 Mr. Hallam, I think, makes too order in council, scarcely less oppres- much of this. ' The Privy Council, on sive and illegal. ' all shops in Cheap- 'a suggestion that the demolition of ' side and Lombard Street, except those ' some houses and shops in the vicinity ' of goldsmiths, were directed to be ' of S. Paul's would show the Cathedral ' shut up, that the avenue to S. Paul's ' to more advantage, directed that such ' might appear more splendid ;' and the ' owners should receive such satisfaction ' Mayor and Aldermen were repeatedly 'as should seem reasonable; or, op 'threatened for remissness in executing ' their refusal, the sheriff was required ' this act of tyranny.' (Clarendon, vol.i. ' to see the buildings so pulled down, p. 438.) That the Council assumed ' it not being thought fit the obstinacy such powers was doubtless unconsti- ' of those persons should hinder so tutional ; but every year Parliament, ' commendable a work.' By another for what is called public advantage, 336 S. PAUL'S RESTOKED BY INIGO JONES. CHAP, should seem most iniquitous, stretch of power, the Par- __"_ , '_ - liamentary Government made the innocent architect, Inigo Jones, pay largely towards the compensation ; but Inigo, the designer of the scenery for the splendid, costly, and heathenish masques of James and Charles, was not likely to find favour with a Puritan majority in Parliament. The church of S. Gregory, which stood in the way, abut- ting on the cathedral at the south-west corner, was re- moved without scruple, and rebuilt on a more convenient site. The removal of this church was another of Laud's offences, charged against him on his trial. 3 ' In the restoration of S. Paul's,' writes Horace Walpole, ' Inigo made two capital faults. He first renewed the * sides with very bad Gothic, and then added a Roman ' portico, magnificent and beautiful indeed, but which had * no affinity with the ancient parts that remained, and made ' the Gothic appear ten times heavier.' The first of these capital faults was inevitable. Throughout Christendom the feeling, the skill, the tradition of Gothic architecture had entirely died out. It had lingered in England longer than on the continent. Its last two splendid, if too florid and de- corate, achievements, King's College Chapel, Cambridge, and Henry Vllth's Chapel at Westminster, might seem to have exhausted its creative energy. The Reformers wanted issues more arbitrary mandates. The but, like booths at a fair, standing on houses stood on Chapter land, the the public way, and so subject to the value of the houses might be easily cal- control of the Mayor and Aldermen, culated and with perfect equity. The Probably the goldsmiths had as much Commissioners were to hare ' especial to do with the regulation as Laud ' regard to widows, orphans, and the and the Council and the Chapter of ' poorer sort.' The second order is more S. Paul. Hallam, vol. i. c. ii. p. 438. perplexing. Shops at the further end Rushworth abridged, pp. 79, 313. of Cheapside and Lombard Street s S. Gregory's must have been could hardly interfere much with the speedily rebuilt, for there was a dis- beauty of S. Paul's. It was a strange pute a few years after between the ambition, too, to have a splendid street parishioners and the ecclesiastical of that length all of goldsmiths' shops, authorities about the position of the I suspect that these were not shops communion table, attached to and forming part of houses, JONES AN ITALIAN. 337 not for their new churches the wealth which had been CHAP. XIII lavished on the old ; they required not for their simpler wor- ,_L ship the vastness, height, long processional aisles, broad naves, and rich choirs. They gradually, therefore, lost their reverence for those wonderful structures. The great Jesuit reaction, simultaneous with the revival of classical art, while labouring to resuscitate mediaeval doctrines, me- diaeval sacerdotal authority, mediaeval Papalisrn, repudiated, it might seem deliberately, mediaeval architecture and me- diaeval art, the great strength of the middle ages. Inigo Jones was an Italian in all but birth; he had studied in Italy ; in Italy imbibed his principles, his tastes, his feelings. In Italy he had found the models which he condescended to imitate, which he aspired to equal or sur- pass. Whether he deigned to notice on his way to Italy the noble French cathedrals Amiens, Rheims, Bourges, or those on the Rhine, Cologne and Strasbourg appears not. His studies had been chiefly at Rome, where there was but one, and that a very inferior, Gothic church, in Florence, in Vicenza. In Italy the name Gothic, of the same import as barbarous, was now looked upon, spoken of, written of, with utter contempt. No wonder then that the Gothic of Inigo Jones, though we may not accept Walpole's judgement as to genuine Gothic, was undeniably bad. His aim, indeed, on the sides of the building seems to have been no more than repair, to make the building secure against weather, to face it throughout, to cut away the decayed stone, the ruined string courses, the ornamental tracery and windows, which he replaced without regard to the original design, as suited his own notions of proportion and symmetry. The new building looked smooth and fresh. It showed a dull flat uniformity, instead of the old bold projections, and the venerable, timeworn, if dark and cumbrous, and ill- z 338 THE WEST FRONT. CHAP, harmonised perhaps, but massy and imposing, arches and , -' buttresses. On the West front Inigo dared to indulge his creative powers. The west facade of the old Cathedral, it should seem, had never been perfectly finished. It had none of the grandeur, richness, and variety of the nobler Gothic edifices, the deep receding arches, with their triple doors and sculp- tured canopies, their splendid rose windows (the rose window here was poor and insignificant) rising above the porch, instinct with sculpture above, below, within, on every side. Kent's designs show the plan and elevation of the West front as it appeared from the hands of Inigo Jones. ' The ' entire West front measures 161 feet long and 162 feet * high from the ground to the top of the cross. A tower ' at each angle rises 140 feet, while over them ascends the ' central peak, ornamented with pinnacles terminating in ' a cross, and forming a screen to the end of the main roof 1 of the building. The whole of this front is of the Corin- ' thian order rusticated, and may be described as cumbrous ' in form but picturesque in effect. It is far otherwise with ' that noble portico, to which the work I have described ' serves at once as a background and a contrast. This ' reaches in length 120 feet over the bases of the columns,- ( and rises 66 feet, measuring from the first step of * which there are five to the summit of the balustrade. ' There is no pediment, inasmuch as the picturesque rusti- ' cated peak performs in some degree the part of a pedi- 1 ment ; nor is the effect, though startling at first, at all ' unpleasant, though it rises nearly eighteen feet above the ' pediment. There are in all fourteen fluted columns, of ' which eight stand in front and three on either side ; nor ' are these last crowded, for the -projection measures forty- ' two feet at each angle. There is a square pilaster, pro- 6 portioned and diminished like its circular companions, THE PORTICO. 339 ' with half pilasters to correspond, where the portico unites CHAP. XIIJ * with the wall. On the front line, and on the return of -r 1 ' these pilasters, a column stands so close that the capitals ' and bases are all but touching. In the centre of the ' portico, the space between the columns measures eleven ' feet, while that which separates the other is only nine, ' thus giving air and access to the principal door. The ' columns, including capitals and bases, measure forty-six ' feet high. On the parapet corresponding with each ' column a pedestal is inserted, breaking forward and ' rising nine inches above the cornice, serving at once as ' a blocking to the balusters and a support to a statue, of ' which the architect had designed ten, all princes and ' benefactors of the Church. I have seen nothing in this ' country so nobly proportioned and so simply splendid as ' this portico. The pilasters coupled to columns at each ' corner are, I conceive, of great beauty, varying the same- ' ness of the design, and preserving the perpendicular pro- ' portion of the angles, which the square projections above ' and below seem to require, and which circular columns ' sacrifice.' 4 This portico was designed, not merely as an ornament and completion of the Cathedral. It was intended for an ambulatory, or Paul's Walk, on the exterior, not in thy interior, of the sacred building, to relieve the Cathedral itself of the profane and inveterate abuses which it seemed hopeless to suppress entirely. It was a sort of compromise with the ' money changers,' with the ' den of thieves,' who were thus at least ejected from the church itself, though it might be impracticable to expel them entirely from its precincts. What the Bishop did not do, perhaps from want of time 4 From Kent's Designs of Inigo ningham's British Architects, 118, Jones, 2nd edition. Compare Cun- 120. z 2 310 SIR PAUL PINDAR. CHAP, or of funds could not do, perhaps even Laud would hardly __^_1_ have dared to do, was done by a wealthy citizen of London, who had made a large fortune as a Turkish merchant, and devoted no less a sum than 10,OOOL to the internal embel- lishment of S. Paul's. For besides the outward repairs and decorations, the munificence of many persons during nine years contributed largely to the ornamentation of the in- terior. Amongst the contributors, writes Dugdale, ' Sir ' Paul Pindar, Knight, sometime ambassador at Constan - ' tinople, is especially to be remembered, who, having at his ' own charge first repaired that goodly partition made at ' the West end of the quire, adorning the part thereof out- ' wards with four pillars of black marble, and statues of ' those Saxon kings who had been founders or benefactors ' to the church, beautified the inner part thereof with ' figures of angels, and all the wainscot was of excellent ' carving, viz. of cherubims and other images richly gilded ; * adding costly suits of hangings for the upper end thereof, ' and afterwards bestowed 4,OOOL in repairing of the south ' cross.' 5 All was now finished except the steeple, and for this the scaffolding was raised round the central tower, from which was to arise the spire to loftier height, perhaps of fnore solid and less combustible materials than the old. But whatever the judgement displayed in these works, some few perhaps, but very few, would be shocked at the incongruity and want of harmony of the splendid Eoman front and portico before a Gothic cathedral ; like placing Salisbury Spire upon the Parthenon. The general im- 4 Dugdale, pp. 107, 108. Dugdale in cash in the chamber of London, gives the following accounts of re- 10,4081. 7s. 9d. There is another ac- ceipt and expenditure : Total amount count in some degree differing, which of receipts, 89,489*. 4s. 6d.; total of makes the total of receipts 101,330*. payments for houses demolished, 4s. 8d. Dugdale attempts, but not 11,080*. 16s. 8d. ; for repairs to quite successfully, to account for the Master Spriggs, 72,000*.; remaining discrepancy. THE NEW CATHEDRAL. 3il pression of satisfaction and admiration may be gathered CHAP. XIII from old Dugdale. S. Paul's stood out in a state of which >_ J , _ churchmen might be proud. Laud might contemplate with satisfaction the fulfilment of the first wish of his heart. No doubt the citizens of London, even some Puri- tans, from old associations of veneration, or from civic pride, might behold it with delighted wonder. The prayer of the Puritan, Lord Brooke, that he might live to see not one stone upon another of that proud popish and hea- thenish edifice might seem very remote from accomplish- ment. The Bishop, the nation, the city, might triumph in their prodigal expenditure, seemingly so easily levied. The portico had bee'n built entirely at the King's charge, it should seem, in large part from those unpopular fines escheated to the crown. Of the ten statues which were to adorn the portico, two only had been executed and set up. King Charles, with his stately form, as we see him in Vandyke's pictures ; his father James (who would task the sculptor to disguise his loose limbs and ungainly atti- tudes, and to invest him in royal dignity) looked down upon the throngs of worshippers, the busy traders, and idle strollers who approached the church. On the whole, the Cathedral, restored under the auspices of Laud, might seem to bear a singular similitude to the religion which Laud would establish in the Church of England, retaining as much as would stand of the old mediaeval building, but putting a new face upon it. It was altogether an inharmonious and confused union of con- flicting elements, a compromise between the old and the new, with services timidly approaching Catholicism (though Laud's more obnoxious innovations do not seem to have been introduced into S. Paul's), but rejecting their vital and obsolete doctrines, and with an episcopal popedom at Lambeth, not at Borne. 342 SIR JOHN DENHAM. CHAP. The impression on some part of the people at least may _ .., L- be judged from the poets, the interpreters, to a certain extent, of the public mind. Denham, curiously enough, as King's surveyor consulted about the repairs of S. Paul's after the Restoration, in his ( Cooper's Hill ' imagines that his poetic eye First salutes the place Crown'd with that sacred pile, so vast, so high, That whether 'tis a part of earth or sky, Uncertain seems, and may be thought a proud Aspiring mountain, or descending cloud. Paul's, the late theme of such a Muse, whose flight, Has bravely reached, and soared above thy height. Now shalt thou stand, tlio' sword, or time, or fire, Or zeal more fierce than they thy fall conspire ; Secure, while thee the best of poets sings, Preserved from ruin by the best of Bangs. Poets are not always prophets. Let us hear now the best of poets, Waller : That shipwreck'd vessel, which the Apostle bore, Scarce suffered more upon Melita's shore, Than did his temple in the sea of time, Our nation's glory, and our nation's crime ; When first the monarch of this happy isle, Mov'd with the ruins of so brave a pile, The work of cost and piety begun, To be accomplish'd by his glorious son ; Who all that came within the ample thought Of his wise sire, thus to perfection brought. He, like Amphion, makes those quarries leap Into fair figures from a confused heap ; For in his art of regiment is found, A power like that of harmony in sound. Those antique minstrels sure were Charles-like kings, Cities their lutes, and subjects' hearts their strings ; On whom with so divine a hand they strook, Consent of motion from their breath they took : So all our minds with his conspire to grace The Gentiles' great Apostle, and deface WALLER. 343 Those still-obscuring sheds, that like a chain CHAP. Seem'd to confine and fetter him again ; XIII. Which he, glad Saint, shakes off at his command, As once the viper from his sacred hand ; So joys the aged oak when we divide The creeping ivy from his injured side. Ambition rather would affect the fame Of some new structure, to have borne his name. Two distant virtues in one act we find, The majesty and greatness of his mind ; Which, not content to be above the rage And injury of all-impairing age, In its own worth, secure doth higher climb, And things half- swallowed from the jaws of Time Reduce, an earnest of his grand design, To frame no new church, but the old refine ; Which, spouse-like, may with comely grace command, More than by force of argument or hand. For doubtful reason, few can apprehend, And war brings ruin, where it should amend ; But beauty, with a bloodless conquest, finds A welcome sovereignty in rudest minds. Nor aught which Sheba's wondering Queen beheld, Amongst the work, of Solomon, excell'd This shape and building, emblems of a heart, Large both in magnanimity and art. The sun which riseth to salute the quire Already finish' d, setting shall admire How private bounty could so far extend ; The King built all, but Charles the western end. So proud a fabric to devotion given, At once it threatens and obliges heaven. Laomedon, that had the gods in pay, Neptune, with him that rules the sacred day, Could no such structure raise. Troy, walled so high, The Atrides might as well have forced the sky. Glad, though amazed, are our neighbour Kings To see such power employed in peaceful things ; They list not urge it in the dreadful field, The task is easier to destroy than build. 344 JEREMY TAYLOR. CHAP. Laud filled the see of London for five years July 15, XIII -'.'> 1628, to Sept. 19, 1633 : lie then passed upward to his fatal eminence, the primacy. But I must pause to comme- morate one act of Laud's as Bishop of London, for which I would render him his due honour, and acknowledge his quick and discerning, almost prophetic, recognition of the highest genius and purest piety. Of all divines in the Church of England none perhaps has excited so much deep Christian emotion, or spoken so penetratingly and forcibly to the religious heart of England as Jeremy Taylor. He ap- peals to every power and faculty of the soul with almost equal force : to the imagination in his ' Life of Christ' and in some of his Sermons to the religious emotions which he almost works up to asceticism, in his ' Holy Living and Dying,' 6 and in others of his Sermons to the reason in the severe logic which underlies his most imaginative prose, and in the * Ductor Dubitantium,' which with all the depth and subtlety of a Schoolman almost enlivens and quickens arid casuistry to the loftiest Christian charity, in its Pauline sense, in his ' Liberty of Prophesying.' Jeremy Taylor, I write it with some pride, began his career as Divinity Lec- turer at S. Paul's. Laud either heard him, or heard of him from those whose judgement he could trust. He took him at once under his patronage, and by Laud's influence Taylor obtained his first preferment, a fellowship at All Souls, Oxford. 7 Laud duly chronicles in his diary the remonstrances and menaces which assailed him from many quarters, when Bishop of London and Primate. On March 29, 1629, soon after his appointment as Bishop of London, This book was long the Manual of viewof the Christian Evidences farsur- Devotion in all ranks, passing any thing which, up to his day, Now deep in Taylor and the Book of Martyrs. had a PP ea / ed in Christian literature. 7 Woods Athena Oxonienses, vol. In the 'Ductor Dubitantium' there is a iii. p. 782, Bliss's edition. JUXON, BISHOP OF LONDON. 345 ' Two papers were found in the Deanery of S. Paul's, his CHAP. XIII ' yard, before his house, " Laud, look to thyself. Be assured s__ T _l ' thy life is sought, as thou art the fountain of all wicked- ' ness. Repent thee thy monstrous sins before thou art ' taken out of the world. . . . Assure thyself that ' neither God, nor the world, can endure such a vile coun- ' cillor to live, or such a whisperer." Laud writes on this, ' Lord, I am a grievous sinner ; but I beseech thee ' deliver my soul from them that hate me without a cause.' July 9, 1637, a short label was pasted on the cross in Cheapside (Paul's Cross?), that the arch wolf of Canter- bury had his hand in persecuting the saints and shedding the blood of the martyrs. Also, Aug. 20, and May 9, 1640, the High Commission, sitting at S. Paul's because of the troubles of the times, very near 2000 Brownists made a tumult at the end of the court, tore down all the benches in the consistory, and cried out, ' We will have no bishop, ' and no High Commission. 5 8 On his promotion to Canterbury, Laud, all powerful in the Church, advanced to the see of London William Juxon, a man though in some respects his follower, yet, in all but his zealous loyalty, singularly unlike himself. William Juxon was not a man of learning, but blameless, un- worldly, unambitious ; perhaps, for that reason, not less ac- ceptable to Primate Laud as Bishop of London ; and Juxon was a man, as will appear, prudent and conciliating be- yond most churchmen of his time. But Laud was not con- tent with advancing Juxon to the bishopric of London ; he must make him a great minister of state, Lord High Trea- surer. Of all the strange proofs of Laud's stone-blindness to the signs of the times, and of his all-absorbing church- manship, nothing is more striking than his exultation at this unwise act, at which Clarendon, it is clear, stood 8 Laud's Diary, under the dates. 346 JUXON RETIRES. CHAP, aghast. March 6, 1636, he writes in his diary, ' William r-^- ' Juxon, Lord Bishop of London, made Lord High Trea- ' surer of England. No churchman had it since Henry the ' Seventh's time. I pray God to bless him, and carry it so ' that the Church may have honour, and the King and the ' State service and contentment by it. And now, if the ' Church will not hold themselves up, under God I can do ' no more.' But Juxon was a wiser man than Laud. From London Laud ascended to his haughty throne at Canterbury, to the primacy, which he would fain have made a popedom. From Canterbury he descended to Tower Hill to ' Canterbury's doom' let me venture to say, to be the victim of the most barbarous crime of those dark days ; a crime, because it was an act of wanton, unnecessary re- venge. As long as Strafford lived, Strafford might be dan- gerous. Laud in the Tower was as harmless as Laud in his grave. He died (he was above seventy years old) with calm resignation. His scrupulous attention to small things, his superstition, took a touching form, when he besought the executioners to stop up the chinks in the platform of the scaffold, lest his blood should fall on the people below. But sager Juxon, on the first opportunity, when it was supposed that the High Treasurership might win over the Earl of Bedford, willingly, or rather eagerly, withdrew from the proud but perilous office. He retired to quiet Ful- ham, where he was allowed to live in peace, in respect, without disturbance, till 1647. Two years after, Jan. 30, 1649, he was permitted to stand by his master to offer his ministrations on the scaffold at Whitehall, obnoxious to none, passionately loved by the loyal for this act of fidelity. 9 9 To Bishop Juxon Charles sub- ' that doctrine and discipline wherein mitted his case of conscience, whether ' I have been bred.' The letter, sadly he could give a temporary compliance characteristic of the King, is in Ellis, to the abolition of Episcopacy, ' with a 2nd series, vol. iii. p. 325. ' resolution to recover and maintain THE COMMONWEALTH. 347 CHAPTEE XIV. g. PAUL'S UNDER THE COMMONWEALTH. THIS must be a short sad chapter. With Puritanism in the CHAP. VTYf ascendant, S. Paul's became a vast useless pile, the lair > 1. of old superstition and idolatry. Why cumbereth it the ground ? The prodigal expenditure of Charles and Laud ; the brilliant creation of Inigo Jones ; the munificence of Sir Paul Pindar, might seem the dressing-up of the victim, for sacrifice, or rather for contemptuous exposure to slow decay and ruin. The Cathedral was not destroyed, for it would have been a work of cost and labour to destroy it. Lord Brooke, who fell at the siege of Lichfield (a manifest judgement as the loyal churchmen, as Laud himself, de- clared), even if he had lived, would not have seen his prayers fulfilled. The stones still remained upon the stones. One of the first acts, however, of the Parliament was to seize and appropriate to other uses the sum remain- ing out of the subscription for the repairs of the church in the chamber of the city of London. This sum amounted to above 1 7,0001. The scaffolding erected around the tower was assigned to Col. Jephson's regiment for 1,746?. 15s. 8d., due as arrears of pay. On striking the scaffolding, part of the south transept, with its roof, came down. But Bishops, Deans, and Canons are more easily swept away than Cathedrals. Even as early as July or August 1641, the year of Strafford's execution, there was a debate in Parliament on the abolition of Cathedral Chapters, and for the appropriation of their revenues to better purposes. 348 ALL OENAMENTS KEMOVED. CHAP. The Universities petitioned in tneir favour ; they were de- , '* fended before the Committee, by Dr. Hacket, Archdeacon of Bedford and Prebendary of S. Paul's. But it was the weak and desponding defence of a lost cause. The Bill passed the Commons, but the Bishops were not yet expelled from the House of Lords; the Bill dropped. In 1642 appeared the Ordinance for the removal of crucifixes, and other monuments of superstition, from churches. S. Paul's is named with other cathedrals. Ordered May 31, ' That the Committee for pulling down and abolishing all * monuments of superstition and idolatry do take into ' their custody the copes in the Cathedrals of Westminster, ' Paul's and Lambeth ; and give order that they be burnt ' (the gold separated from the gilt by fire), and converted to { the relief of the poor in Ireland.' December 15. Ordered that the Committee for taking away superstitious ornaments ' do open Paul's church, and that they shall have power to ' remove out of the said church all such matters as are 'justly offensive to godly men.' But, if the work of Sir Paul Pindar was spared, there was not much to destroy. I doubt if there were any precious painted windows in the Cathedral. In January 1644-5, was an order ' that my Lord ' Powys's house in Aldersgate Street, and the Deanery of ' S. Paul's, should be prepared for the reception of certain ' prisoners from Chichester or elsewhere.' l In April came darker signs of spoliation. It was ordered that the chest, or silver vessels in S. Paul's shall be sold to the best advan- tage, towards the providing of necessaries for the train of artillery, by the Committee at Grocers' Hall. The Deanery had probably been vacated by Winnif, who had received the profitless nomination to the Bishopric of Lincoln ; Dr. 1 Quoted in Malcolm, vol. iii. p. 143. CORNELIUS BURGESS. 349 Steward, appointed to the Deanery, had not appeared. CHAP. In May of the same year came the fatal mandate to the , ^- Lord Mayor and the Court of Aldermen to seize and sequester all the revenues of the Dean and Chapter of S. Paul's with the sole reservation of 400 L, to be paid quar- terly to Dr. .Cornelius Burgess as lecturer in the Cathedral. The Dean, Steward, though in a later Act named in [pos- session of the Deanery, had not been installed. I have not thought it necessary to trace out the expelled Canons in Walker's ' Sufferings of the Clergy,' or other docu- ments. They were no doubt scattered, such as refused the Covenant, each to his place of retirement. The former mandate was followed by a second Act (April 23), consti- tuting Cornelius Burgess Lecturer of S. Paul's (a part of the eastern end of the Church was walled in for his preaching house), and putting him in possession of the Deanery. Cornelius Burgess is, of course, a different man in the pages of the Puritan Neal and the rampant loyalist Wood. In Neal, he is among the most moderate of the Parliamen- tary Divines ; he declined, till threatened with ejection (he held the living of Watford), to sign the Covenant. He was the antagonist of Hacket in the debate about the abolition of Chapters. He complained of their unprofit- ableness, of the ' debauchery of singing men, and of their * vicious conversation;' he spoke against music in churches as useless and hurtful. But he summed up with declaring, that he held it necessary to apply these foundations to better purposes ; it was by no means lawful to alienate them from pious uses, or to convert them to any private personal profit. 2 According to Wood, he began by preaching a Latin sermon at S. Alphege before the London Clergy, in which * Neal, vol. iii. p. 456. 350 BURGESS, ANTI-DEAN. CHAP, he spoke strongly of the connivance of the Bishops at the / T _ growth of Arminianism and Popery. He was summoned before the High Commission Court, and from that time became implacable against the Bishops. He exercised great authority, with a Captain Venn, over the populace of London. He had become a zealous Covenanter. It was usual for him, with Venn, to lead up the tumult of the City apprentices and the rest to the Parliament doors to see that the godly party in the House (for so their faction was called) were not outvoted, and then turning back to the rabble would say, ' These are my bandogs, and I can set ' them on, and I can take them off.' This was done with especial violence at Strafford's trial. Hence his popularity in London, and his nomination at S. Paul's. The lecture in the evening at the Cathedral was appointed at the desire of some of the Aldermen of London, who were un- willing that S. Paul's should be altogether silenced. But the first motion, if Wood is to be believed, proceeded from the militia of London, among whom the Doctor was wont to ride with a case of pistols, to be called colonel, and to share their plunder. On the other hand, it cannot be doubted that Burgess headed the daring petition of the London Clergy against the execution of the King. The petition ended with these memorable words, ' that God ' would restrain the violence of men, that they may not ' dare to draw upon themselves and the kingdom the ' blood of their Sovereign.' 3 The Anti-Dean, Cornelius Burgess, was a man of no des- picable power. His sermons rank high, for vigour and something at times bordering on the eloquence of his age, among the preachers of the day. Burgess is somewhat proud of his small Hebrew, which he inflicts at length on the patient House of Commons. There is one sermon * The petition and signatures, Neal, vol. iii. p.- 536. END OF BURGESS. 351 before the House on November 5, 1641, rising to terrific CHAP. XIV invective against the conspirators in the Gunpowder Plot, *- , ' - and on those in high places in the Roman Catholic world, who vindicated, excused, admired, made martyrs of those wretched assassins. ' What measures will the wisdom of 1 Parliament adopt against perilous Popery ? But if any- * thing may be added (he proceeds), for the taking away of ' their children and training them up (at the parents' cost, * if they have wherewithal), in the nurture and fear of the * Lord, that so there may not still be new generations of ' Papists ; I presume it would be a noble and pious service, 4 for which the souls of many thousands would for ever e bless you, by whose mercy they should be delivered out ' of the power of that ^Egyptian darkness and translated ' into the kingdom of Jesus Christ.' 4 Fanaticism speaks the same language in Papal Rome and in Inquisitorial Madrid, and in Puritan London. Everywhere it tramples as remorselessly on the holiest rights and duties of human nature, and outrages the deepest and most sacred feelings of the heart of man. 5 Burgess came to a wretched end. He had written a pamphlet to prove that it was no sin to purchase Bishops' lands. In the conviction of its sinlessness he left S. Paul's (he did not purchase any of our estates), and obtained the living of S. Andrew's in Wells. He invested all his gams in the lands of that see, for which investment he was said to have been offered 12,OOOZ. At the Restoration he was forced to disgorge ; lived in miserable poverty, and lingered on, writing dismal letters imploring charity to keep him alive. He died and was buried at his old benefice in Watford. The Act for the sale of Bishops' lands, November 16, 1646, disturbed Juxon in his peaceful retreat at Fulhain, where * Wood, art. Cornelius Burgess. * Parl. Sermons, p. 35. 352 IUCHAKD HARVEY AT FULHAM. CHAP, he had lived unmolested, to the credit of his own virtue XIV ~ , ' .' and prudence, and, as Warburton observes, showing the moderation of the Parliamentary leaders up to that time. 6 A committee was appointed to assess the allowance to be made to the deprived Bishops. Mr. Hallam cites an order (May 1, 1647), that whereas divers of the tenants of the late Bishop of London have refused to pay the rents or other sums of money due to him as Bishop of London at or before the 1st November last, the Trustees of Bishops' lands are directed to receive the same and pay them over to Dr. Juxon. ' Though this was only justice, it shows * that justice was done at least in this instance to a ' Bishop.' 7 Fulham passed into the possession of Richard Harvey, a decayed silk mercer, whether as a reward for his services (and he had rendered great services in putting down an insurrection in London at the time of Waller's plot), c~ by purchase from spoils obtained in the war. 8 I cannot make out that any of the Dean and Chapter estates were alienated; at all events, they can 3, back without loss. The Cathedral was left to chance, exposed at least to neglect, too often to wanton or inevitable mischief. There is a strange story that Cromwell had determined to sell the useless building to the Jews. If not pure fiction, this may have originated in one of those grim pleasantries in which Oliver took delight. The Jews, though from wise commercial motives openly admitted into the realm and favoured by Cromwell, 9 were thus far too precariously Notes to Clarendon. 1662. The writer counted about 100 7 Constitutional History, vol. i. p. Jews, and one proselyte among them. 597, note. They were all gentlemen, without 8 Clarendon, p. 418. Walker's mechanics among them, richly appa- Hist. of Independency, vol. i. p. 176. relied. Ellis, 2nd series, vol. iv. p. 9 See a curious letter about a visit 3, et seq. to the synagogue of the Jews, April STATE OF S. PAUL'S. 363 established, too prudent to engage in such a transaction. CHAP. With all their reverence for the Old Testament, I doubt r^ whether the Puritans would have endured a stately syna- gogue on the site of St. Paul's. None knew this better than the Jews ; and the sale of the materials would have been hardly a profitable or safe speculation. As it was, the only part secure was the east end, set apart for the congregation of Burgess. From Inigo's noble portico the statues of the two Kings were tumbled ignominiously down and dashed to pieces. The portico was let out for mean shops, to sempstresses and hucksters, with chambers above, and staircases leading to them. The body of the Church, the sacred building, Dugdale, who saw it, declares with sorrow and bitterness of heart, became a cavalry barrack, a cavalry stable. The pavement was trampled by horses, the t^mbs left to the idle amuse- ment of the rude soldiers, if religious, nfot much disposed to reverence the rerr^ns of a Popish edifice. Sir H. Ellis 'ias quoted a curious notice from a printed paper in the British Museum, dated May 27, 1651 : ' Forasmuch ' as the inhabitants of S. Paul's Churchyard are much * disturbed by the souldiers and others, calling out to ' passengers and examining them, though they go peace- * ably and civilly along, and by playing at nine pins at * unreasonable hours. They are therefore to command all * souldiers and others that hereafter there shall be no * examining and calling out to persons that go peaceably * on their way, unless they do approach the guards, and ' likewise to forbeare playing at nine pins and other sports ' from the hours of nine o'clock in the evening till six in ' the morning, that so persons as are weak and indisposed ' to rest may not be disturbed.' l If this was the case in the 1 Ellis's Dugdale, p. 115. A A 354 DEMOLITION OF PAUL'S CEOSS. CHAP, public streets without the Church, we may suppose that Jv-1 much was going on within not quite in keeping with its ancient sanctity. It must have surpassed Paul's Walk at its worst times. The famous adjunct to the Cathedral was not left to slow decay. It might have been supposed that Paul's Cross, from which so many sermons had been preached in the course of years, some, as has appeared, as fiercely con- demnatory of Popish superstition as the most devout Puritan could have wished ; that the famous pulpit, which we might have expected Presbyterian and Independent Divines, the most powerful and popular, would have aspired to fill, and from thence hoped to sway to their own purposes, and to guide to assured salvation the devout citizens of London, would have been preserved as a tower of strength to the good cause. But it was a Cross, and a Cross was obstinately, irreclaimably, Popish. Down it went ; not a vestige of the splendid work of Bishop Kemp was al- lowed to remain. Its place knew it no more ; tradition alone pointed to where it stood ; it never rose again. 2 At the Restoration the Paul's Cross Sermons, with their en- dowments, were removed into the Cathedral itself; and still belong to the Sunday morning preachers, now chiefly the honorary Prebendaries of the Church. 2 The Cross had in latter times not f yet Bishop of London, preached lost something of its influence and at the Cross, April 1624 ; as Bishop authority. It is certain that James of London, April 1631. (Laud's I. heard sermons there ; it is not so Diary, sub anno.) certain whether Charles did. Laud, THE KESTOKATIOX. 355 CHAPTEE XV. THE RESTORATION. FIRE OF LONDON. THE Restoration came. There was again a Bishop of Lou- CHAP. don, and a Dean of S. Paul's. Good old Juxon resumed , his see, to die in the honourable post, which his loyalty had amply deserved from the son of Charles I., as Primate in Canterbury. He was succeeded in London by Gilbert Sheldon. But Juxon was more than seventy years old, and very infirm. As Bishop of London Sheldon became in influence and authority Primate. To Sheldon we owe the St. Bartholomew's Act, the Act of Uniformity, with those rigid clauses which we have but now shaken off, and all those stern measures which made Puritanism a permanent and perpetual schism. Thus some of those who might have been the most powerful, as they were among the most pious, of the servants of the Church of England, became her irreconcilable antagonists. Sheldon was elected Bishop of London October 23, 1660 ; Archbishop, August 31, 1663. He was, like Laud, a magnificent Prelate (witness the theatre at Oxford), with too much of Laud in his haughty and domineering character, in his political, as in his religious activity. Sheldon was succeeded in London by Humphrey Henchman, translated from Salisbury, October 13, 1663. Henchman, then holding a benefice in the neighbourhood of Salisbury, had been engaged in the escape of Charles II. after the battle of Worcester. The Boscobel Tracts state distinctly his share in the escape, but enter into no details. 356 HENCHMAN, BISHOP OF LONDON. CHAP. Henchman certainly dined with Charles at the house of V\T . ' - Mrs. Anne Hyde, four or five miles from Salisbury. He now received the reward of his perilous services. As Bishop of London, he does not appear very prominent; his name rarely occurs, either in the affairs of the State, or of the Church, or of the diocese, or in the Annals of S. Paul's, except as a liberal contributor to the new church. He filled the see, however, for twelve years (he died October 1675) : during that most eventful period he is in general almost quiescent. In the destruction and the design for the rebuilding of the new cathedral, throughout, the Dean, Sancroft, takes the lead. The first Dean of S. Paul's after the Restoration was William Nicholas, brother of King Charles's faithful Secre- tary of State ; he was Dean hardly more than a month ; he had been named Dean in the troubled times. He was in- stalled July 10; died August 14, 1662. Nicholas was succeeded by John Barwick. If con- scientious fidelity to his sovereign, daring, dangerous, indefatigable labours in his cause, might deserve reward from that King, John Barwick's claims were surpassed by few, probably by none, of the Clergy. Barwick is his own biographer ; his Life l is a singularly vivid account of those stirring times. Barwick must have been a man of rare ability and courage. For eight years he carried on the correspondence of the King's friends in London with Oxford and the royalist camp. At the breaking out of the civil war, Barwick was a fellow of St. John's, Cambridge. He was noted in the College Chapel as turning to the East during the Creed: he was warned against leaning to the 'infamous errors of Arminianism ' and Papal superstition.' Barwick was a churchman, a 1 Vita Joannis Barwick. DEAN BARWICK. 357 loyalist, to his heart's core. To him Strafford and Laud. CHAP. were the pillars of the State ; Charles the best of princes, > ^ * high beyond all praise.' 2 Barwick's first act at the commencement of the troubles was to take possession of all the money in the hands of the College (the caution money), and all the college plate ; and with the other loyalists of the University to transmit the proceeds to the royal camp. This was no easy affair. Cromwell, in command in the neighbourhood, was on the watch, and had stationed troops to intercept the convoy. Barwick, by his knowledge of the country, contrived to baffle the vigilant General, and to convey the treasure by circuitous bye-ways in safety to the King. The expedition was conducted by Barnabas Oley of Clare Hall, a well- known man. The hand of Cromwell soon after fell heavily on the University. The ' Complaint of Cambridge ' 3 was addressed to deaf ears. The loyalists fled from their colleges ; some made their way to the royal camp. Barwick took refuge in the crowded solitude of London. He be- came chaplain to Morton, Bishop of Durham, and from Morton's spacious house, which held many inhabitants, perhaps not with the full cognisance, hardly without the tacit connivance, of the Bishop, issued the letters which passed between the London loyalists and the royal camp. Something passed besides letters; supplies, even military supplies, were smuggled through the Parliamentary army to Oxford. Barwick boasts of the important personages whose wavering loyalty he confirmed ; as Sir Thomas Middleton and Thomas Pope. From the press of one Royston, in close connection with Barwick, came forth royalist publications, which were actively disseminated throughout the country. They were embarked as merchandise on the Thames, and 2 ' Principem supra omne encomium s Quorela Cantabrigiensis. ' longe optimum.' 358 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF BAEWICK. CHAP. . landed at convenient places. All this was done at fearful ^J-^-l * hazard. There is a strange story in his life (Barwick, no doubt, believed it) of certain ' theologians/ seized and kept under the hatches, in vessels on the Thames, half -starved and insulted by the sailors. A certain captain would have sold them for slaves, if he could have found a purchaser. Barwick continued fearlessly, yet it must have been with consummate caution, his desperate intrigues. Among his most important services was his saving the life of Lord Langdale, who, after- his utter defeat in the North, found his way to London. He was disguised by Barwick in the dress of a clergyman, and so stole over to ithe Continent. When King Charles was at Holdenby, not a letter passed between the King and the Queen, or any of the royal family, or the more faithful loyalists, but through the agency of Barwick, or that of one of his friends who pretended him- self a follower of Lord Pembroke. After the seizure of the King at Holdenby by Cornet Joyce, and his removal to the army, the hopes of the false and misguided King rose high. He thought to play the opposing parties on the Parliamentary side one against the other a fatal game ! His faithful friends, full of hopes, flocked to the King in the Isle of Wight : among them Barwick. But Barwick was too useful in London ; he was sent back to watch the King's interests there. Of the King's insincerity, and of its perilous consequences, he must have been fully aware ; but obedience was his duty ; he closed his eyes to what must have appeared folly as well as treachery to a less zealous partisan. It was not till after eight years, that the parliamentary police got clear evidence of the subtle agency of Barwick. A warrant was issued by President Bradshaw for his arrest and committal to what was then, no doubt, justly called the loathsome prison of Westminster, the Gate BARWICK DANGEROUSLY ILL. 359 House. But even then Barwick had the forethought and CHAP. the time to burn all papers or cyphers which could com- . 1, '_ promise him. His brother, Edward Barwick, was arrested with him as implicated in his offences. They agreed to answer truly all questions which they could safely answer, on all others to refuse to answer. Just at that time Barwick was seized with a malady which threatened to be fatal disease of the lungs, spitting of blood, and other symptoms of rapid decline. It seemed that his wasted frame must soon give way. He was saved by what he thought the cruelty of his enemies. He was treated with great harshness in Westminster, and in the Tower after his removal thither. But that which seemed, at first, to aggravate his malady, proved the best remedy. The meagre diet, entirely vegetable, with no drink but pure water (when he could command it) ; the total abstinence from animal food, and no doubt con- strained quiet, wrought a cure. His attenuated frame recovered its health, to a certain extent its vigour. Even after the execution of the King, Barwick did not despair of the royal cause, but, having obtained his release, remained quiet. After the death of Cromwell he resumed his activity. He was in busy correspondence with Charles II. and with Hyde, chiefly on money mat- ters, which seemed to be conducted in a strange loose way, and by their slender amount show the utter desti- tution of the exiled King. Barwick was sent by the sur- viving Bishops to Breda as best able to represent the state and condition of the Church, and to advise about its reestablishment. At the Restoration Barwick might justly expect the well-earned reward of his services. He was spoken of for the Bishopric of Carlisle ; he obtained the Deanery of Durham, and set to work on the repairs of that noble 360 BAKWICK, DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S. CHAP. Cathedral, which had suffered much, not only from the XV , ' -s neglect of the Puritans, but from the ravages of the Scots, whose hatred of England combining with their fanatic Presbyterianism, had done much wanton mischief. After a year at Durham, Barwick was summoned to the Deanery of S. Paul's, to consult as it proved, only to consult on the restoration of the ruined Cathedral. He found all in confusion. Among other difficulties, the College of the Minor Canons had dwindled to one, who had contrived to lease for his own benefit, and so alienate, the estates. Barwick did not live to see the utter destruction of the Cathedral. He died December 15, 1664. Barwick in his younger days had a great fondness for music. His know- ledge of music enabled him to restore the choir of S. Paul's, so long silent, to some order and efficiency. A Bishop of London and a Dean of S. Paul's might be found without difficulty, but the damage which the Cathe- dral suffered during the Commonwealth was not easily repaired. The public services were recommenced and some kind of order restored. At first, finding that the stalls in the choir with the orga.n-loft were entirely de- stroyed, the east end of the church, fitted up as a preaching-place for Dr. Burgess, was enlarged by taking in one arch of the choir, and there for a time the services went on. But the whole fabric was seen to be insecure, if not dangerous. What was to be done was the question anxiously debated for two or three years. Sir Christopher Wren, then Dr. Wren, was consulted. His report was by no means favourable. It is of great length ; is at once the history, description, and prophetic funeral oration of old S. Paul's. In the proposals for the repair, ' Some may aim at too great magnificence, which ' the disposition of the age will not bear. Others may ' fall so low as to think of piecing up the old fabric, WKEN'S EErOKT ON THE CATHEDKAL. 3G1 ' here with stone, there with brick, and cover all faults CHAP. vv ' with a coat of plaister, leaving it still to posterity as a ^_ T '._ ' further object of charity. The Cathedral is a pile for ' ornament and for use. It demands a choir, consis- ' tory, chapter-house, library, preaching auditory, which ' might be furnished at less expense, but would want ' grandeur. It was a monument of power and mighty ' zeal in our ancestors in public works, in those times ' when the city had neither a fifth part of the wealth it ' now boasts of.' Wren proceeds to the defects of the building: ' First, * it is evident by the ruin of the roof, that the work was ' both ill-designed and ill-built from the beginning; ill- ' designed, because the architect gave not butment enough ' to counterpoise and resist the weight of the roof from ' spreading the walls ; for this the eye alone will discover 1 to any man, that those pillars, as vast as they are, even ' eleven feet diameter, are bent outwards at least six ' inches from their first position ; which being done on ' both sides, it necessarily follows, that the whole roof must ' fall open, in large and wide cracks along by the walls ' and windows ; and, lastly, drop down between the yielding ' pillars. The bending of the pillars was facilitated by ' their ill-building; for they are not only cased without, ' and but with small stones, not greater than a man's * burden ; but within is nothing but a core of small ' rubbish stone and mere mortar, which easily crushes ' and yields to the weight ; and this outward coat of free- ' stone is so much torn with age and the neglect of the c roof, so that there are few stones to be found that are ' not mouldered and flawed away with the saltpetre that ' is in them ; an incurable disease, which perpetually ' throws off whatever coat of plaister is laid on it, and c therefore not to be palliated.' 362 WREN'S PROPOSED REMEDY. CHAP. Wren adds further, that as the outside of the church , ' was new flagged with stones of larger size (Inigo's work), ' so should be the inside after a good Roman manner, as c easy to perform as to follow the Gothic rudeness of ' design. It must be either a timber roof, which under ' certain circumstances will soon decay, or a thinner and ' lighter shell of stone, very geometrically proportioned ( to the strength of the butments. The roof might be of ' brick with a certain stucco, which to this day remains ' firm in many ancient Roman buildings. ' The middle part is most defective both in beauty and ' firmness, both within and without, for the tower leans ' manifestly by the settling of one of the ancient pillars ' that supported it. Four new arches were, therefore, of ' later years incorporated within the old ones, which both ' straightened and hindered the room, and the clear ' thorough view of the nave, in that part where it had ' been more graceful to have been rather wider than the rest.' Besides this, ' the intercolumniations are very * unequal. Without, the three buttresses (the fourth is 1 wanting) are . so irregular that the tower, from the top ' to the bottom, with the next adjacent parts, are a heap ' of deformities, that no judicious architect will think it 4 corrigible.' Wren cannot propose a better remedy than by cutting off the inner cornices of the cross. So to reduce this middle space into a dome or rotunda, with a cupola or hemi- spherical roof, and upon the cupola, for the outward orna- ment, a lantern with a spring top to rise perpendicularly,, though not to that unnecessary height of the former spire of timber and lead, burnt by lightning. By this means the deformities of the unequal inter- columniations will be taken away. The ' church, which is ' much too narrow for its height, rendered spacious in the WEEK'S EEPOET. 363 middle, which must be a very proper place for a large CHAP. ' auditory. The outward appearance of the church will r^ ' seem to swell in the middle by degrees from a large base, ' rising with a rotunda bearing a cupola, and then ending ' in a lantern ; and this with incomparable more grace in ' the remoter aspect than it is possible for the lean shaft * of a steeple to afford.' I have added these sentences as illustrating Wren's views. But in truth this prophetic vision of the many thousands who in our Sunday evening services meet under his dome, is surely most remarkable. For the rest Wren dwells altogether on the materials and mode of execution, excepting a generous paragraph of homage to Inigo Jones's portico, ' an absolute piece in itself.' 4 It cannot be surprising that the debate on this difficult question should be long and obstinate. Some materials were collected, but nothing was resolved on or done. 5 The debate lasted, till it was determined by that terrible arbiter, the Fire of London. How striking it is to read in ' Evelyn's Memoirs,' that on August 27, 1666, ' I went to S. Paul's Church with Dr. * Wren, Mr. Pratt, Mr. May, Mr. Thomas Chichely, Mr. ' Slingsby, the Bishop of London (Henchman), the Dean of ' S. Paul's (Sancroft), and several expert workmen. We ' went about to survey the general decay of that venerable 1 church. . . . Finding the main building to recede out- * wards, it was the opinion of Chichely and Mr. Pratt that ' it had been so built, ab origine, for an effect in perspec- ' tive in regard to the height. But I was, with Dr. Wren, 4 Parentalia, pp. 174, et seq. That project was laid aside during 4 Among the charges afterwards the war. He (Clarendon) upon that brought against Lord Clarendon, was bought the stones, and made use of one, that before the war with the them for building his own house Dutch (1665) there were some designs (Dunkirk House, as it was sarcasti- afoot for the repairing of S. Paul's, and cally called). Burnet's Own Times, many stones were brought thither. vol. i. p. 249. 364 FIRE OF LONDON. CHAP. i of quite another judgement. They deliberated whether it ^ - ' were not well enough to repair it only on its own founda- ' tion. But we totally rejected it, and persisted that it * required a new foundation, not only in regard of the ne- ' cessity ; but for the shape of what stood was very mean, * and we had a mind to build it with a noble cupola (Evelyn ' had travelled in Italy], a form not as yet known in Eng- ' land, but of wonderful grace.' The plans and estimates were actually ordered on that day, August 27. On 'Tues- day, September 2, broke out the FIEE. Till very recent times, we had only two full accounts of the Great Fire of London from those who actually beheld it, and each of these curiously characteristic of the writer. I select only those passages which relate to the burning of S. Paul's. The busy Pepys is awakened at three o'clock in the morning (Sunday morning) by the alarm of fire in the city. Pepys lived in Seething Lane, not far from the Tower. The fire broke out in the King's bakehouse in Pudding Lane, at about ten o'clock on the Saturday night. The alarm increasing, Pepys, as yet only curious, walks to the Tower, and gets upon one of the high places, c and there did I see the houses at that end of the bridge ' all on fire, and an infinite great fire on this end, and the { other side of the end of the bridge.' Pepys gets a boat, passes under the bridge, with the blazing houses above it, and hastens to Whitehall to be the first to carry the intelligence to the King and the Duke of York. From Whitehall he drives in Captain Cook's coach, without difficulty, to S. Paul's, which as yet seems perfectly se- cure. In Watling Street, however, people were already busy, removing their goods. In Cannon Street he meets the Lord Mayor, who was quite exhausted, and seemingly had lost his head. He had ordered houses to be pulled down to check the fire. Nobody obeyed ; so the worshipful PEPYS' ACCOUNT. 365 chief magistrate went ' quietly home and to bed.' After a CHAP. \v good dinner, Pepys went down again to Paul's, walking *-*-'- through the city, ' the streets full of nothing but people ' and horses and carts laden with goods, ready to run * over one another, and removing goods from one burning ' house to another. Cannon Street, which received goods ' in the morning, was now removing its goods to Lombard * Street.' Pepys had no difficulty in reaching the boat which he had appointed to meet him at Paul's Wharf. On the river he was happy enough to encounter the King's barge, and followed the royal party. ' In the ' evening, when we could endure no more upon the water, * we landed at Bankside (the Southwark shore) at a small * public-house, and there stood and saw the fire grow, ' and as it grew darker, appeared more and more, and in ' corners and upon steeples, and between churches and ' houses, as far as we could see up the city, in a most ' horrid bloody malicious flame, not like the flame of * an ordinary fire. We stood still, it being darkish ; * we saw the fire as only one entire arch of fire from this ' to the other side of the bridge, and on a bow up the ' hill for an area of above a mile long.' Still it had not come near S. Paul's, which stood as if proudly defiant and unapproachable, the general refuge and receptacle for the goods and families of all the affrighted neighbour- hood. Pepys now became alarmed for himself; and self, and what belonged to self, absorbed Pepys' mind and soul, and left him no time to think of S. Paul's or anything else. From his house in Seething Lane, between the Bridge and the Tower, he carried off in a cart, kindly lent him, all his money, plate, and best things, to his friend Sir W. Eider's, at the remote village of Bethnal Green. He then bethought him of the public monies and public documents under his charge, for his office was 366 v EVELYN. CHAP, now in danger. About two in the morning of the 5th r - ( Wednesday) the fire had approached Barking Church (Allhallows, Barking), ' at the end of our lane.' There, how- ever, it seems to have stopped. On the evening before, he heard accidentally that Mr. Hewer's house in Pye Corner, far west, had been burned ; ' so that the fire is got ' so far that way, and to the Old Bailey, and-S. Paul's is ' burned and all Cheapside.' It is not till the 7th, the Friday, that he ' is up by five o'clock, and blessed be God ' found all safe, and by water to Paul's Wharf. Walked ' there and saw all the town burned, and a miserable sight ' of Paul's Church, with all the roof fallen, and the body 6 of the quire faUen into S. Faith's.' 6 Contrast with this the words of the grave and serious Evelyn, remembering, of course, that Evelyn's house, at Deptford, was far off, ' a Zoar,' as he called it. ( The fire ' having continued all that night (Monday the 3rd), if ' I may call that night which was light as day for ten ' miles round about, after a dreadful manner, which con- ' spiring with a fierce eastern wind in a very dry season, ' I went on foot to the same place (the Bankside, South- ' wark), and saw the whole north side of the City burning * from Cheapside to the Thames, and all along Cornhill ' (for it travelled back against the wind), Tower Street, 1 Fenchurch Street, Graceous (Gracechurch) Street, and ' so along to Baynard's Castle, and was now taking hold ' of S. Paul's Church, to which the scaffolds contributed { exceedingly. The conflagration was so universal, and ' the people so astonished, that, from the beginning, I ' know not, but from what despondency, or fate, they ' hardly stirred to quench it, so that there was nothing ' heard or seen but crying out and lamentation ; running Pepys, vol. ii. pp. 439-449. THE FIEE. 367 ' about like distracted creatures, without attempting to.. CHAP. ' save even their goods ; such a strange consternation - r-^ ' there was upon them, so that it burned both in breadth ' and length, the churches, public halls, Exchange, hos-r ' pitals, monuments, ornaments; leaping in a prodigious * manner from house to house, from street to street, at . ' great distances one from the other. For the heat, ' with a long set of fine and warm weather, had eve^i ' ' ignited the air, and prepared the materials to conceive 'the fire, which devoured after an incredible manner, . ' houses, furniture, everything. There we saw the Thames ' covered with goods floating, all tKe barges and boats' ' laden with what some had time and courage to save ; ' and, on the other side, the carts were carrying out to ' the fields, which for many miles were strewed with ( movables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter the > ' people, and what goods they could get away. Oh the ' ' miserable and calamitous spectacle, such as haply the" * world had not seen since the foundation of it, nor can . ' be outdone till the universal conflagration thereof ! All ' the sky was of a fiery aspect like the top of a burning ' oven, and the light seen above forty miles round about ' for many nights. God grant that mine eyes may never ( see the like ! The noise, and cracking, 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 a hideous storm ; and the air ' about so hot and inflamed, that at the last one was not 4 able to approach it, so that they were forced to stand ' still, and let the flames burn on, which they did for more ' than two miles in length and one in breadth. The ' clouds also of smoke were dismal, and reached, upon ' computation, near fifty miles in length. Thus I left it ' this afternoon burning, a resemblance of Sodom, or 368 DOCTOE TASWELL. CHAP. ' the last day. It forcibly called to my mind tliat passage, 3C V r J , ' non enim hie habemus stabilem civitatem, tlie ruins re- ' sembling the picture of Troy. London was, but is no ' more ! Sept. 4th, the burning still rages, and it is now ' gotten as far as the Inner Temple. All Fleet Street, ' the Old Bailey, Ludgate Hill, Warwick Lane, Newgate, ' Paul's Chain, Watling Street, now naming and most of * it reduced to ashes ; the stones of S. Paul's flew like ' grenades, the melting lead running down the streets in ' a stream, and the very pavements glowing with a fiery ' redness, so as no horse nor man was able to tread on ' them, and the demolition had stopped all the pas- ' sages, so that no help could be applied, the eastern ' wind still more impetuously driving the flames forward. ' Nothing but the almighty power of God was able to stop ' them ; for vain was the help of man.' 7 A third contemporary description has now appeared, in some respects even more lifelike, and with some re- markable circumstances relating to S. Paul's. A certain Doctor Taswell remembered well the awful event, for it happened between his election and admission as a king's scholar at Westminster. It was likely to be graven deeply on the memory of a boy. ' On Sunday between 1 ten and eleven, just as I was standing upon the steps ' leading up to the pulpit in Westminster Abbey, I dis- ' covered some people below me, running to and fro in ' a seeming inquietude and consternation; immediately ' almost a report reached my ears that London was in a ' conflagration. Without any ceremony I took leave of ' the preacher, and having ascended the Parliament steps ' near the Thames, I soon perceived four boats 'crowded * with objects of distress. These had escaped from the ' fire scarce under any covering but that of a blanket.' 7 Evelyn's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 9-11. WESTMINSTER BOYS. 369 The next day (Monday) Dolben, Bishop of Rochester CHAP. ^CV and Dean of Westminster, set gallantly forth at the head - . "-, ' _. of the Westminster boys (the Dean, by Taswell's account, had frequently in the civil wars mounted guard as senti- nel) to do what they could to render assistance in staying the fire. They went a long way, for they aided in saving the church of S. Dunstan in the East, by fetching water from the back sides of the building, and so extinguishing the fire. Taswell acted as a sort of aide-de-camp-page to the Dean. During this expedition Taswell may have heard or seen what he relates about S. Paul's. ' The people who ' lived contiguous to S. Paul's Church raised their expecta- ' tions greatly concerning the absolute security of that place ' upon account of the immense thickness of its walls and ' its situation, built on a large piece of ground on every side ' remote from houses.' Upon that account they filled it with all sorts of goods ; and besides, in the church of S. Faith, under that of S. Paul, they deposited libraries of books, because it was entirely arched all over ; and with great caution and prudence even the least avenue, through which the smallest spark could penetrate, was stopped up. ' But,' Taswell proceeds, ' this precaution availed them ' little. As I stood upon the bridge (a small one over a ' creek at the foot of what is now Westminster' Bridge), ' among many others, I could not but observe the progress ' of the fire towards that venerable fabric. About eieht o ' o'clock it broke out on the top of S. Paul's Church, ' almost scorched up by the violent heat of the air and ' lightning too, and before nine blazed so conspicuous as ' to enable ine to read very clearly a 16mo. edition of 1 Terence, which I carried in my pocket.' 8 This was on Tuesday 4th ; on Thursday, like a bold boy, Taswell, soon Camden's Miscellany, vol. ii. p. 12. B B 370 BURNING OF THE CHURCH. CHAP, after sunrising, endeavoured to reach S. Paul's. ' The xv , , -' - ' ground was so hot as almost to scorch mj shoes, and the ' air so intensely warm, that unless I had stopped some ' time upon Fleet Bridge to rest myself, I must have ( fainted under the extreme languor of my spirits. After ' giving myself a little time to breathe, I made the best ' of my way to S. Paul's. ' And now let any person judge of the extreme emotion ' I was in, when I perceived the metal belonging to the * bells melting ; the ruinous condition of the walls, with 4 heaps of stones, of a large circumference, tumbling down ' with a great noise just upon my feet, ready to crush ' me to death. I prepared myself for retiring back again, 1 having first loaded my pockets with several pieces of ' bell-metal. ' I forgot to mention that near the east end of S. Paul's ' (he must have got quite round the church), a human 1 body presented itself to me, parched up as it were with the ' flames, white, as to skin, meagre as to flesh, yellow as to ' colour. This was an old decrepit woman who fled here ' for safety, imagining the flames would not have reached ' her there ; her clothes were burned, and every limb re- ' duced to a coal. 9 In my way home I saw several en- ' gines which were bringing up to its assistance, all on * fire, and those engaged with them escaping with all * eagerness from the flames, which spread instantaneous * almost like a wildfire, and at last, accoutred with my ( sword and helmet, I traversed the torrid zone back again.' Taswell relates that the papers from the books in S. Faith's were carried with the wind as far as Eton. The Oxonians observed the rays of the sun tinged with an unusual kind of redness, a black darkness seemed to cover 9 This is an exception to Burnet's any person burnt or trodden to death statement, that he could never hear of in the fire. Own Times, vol. i. p. 302. EVELYN AGAIN. 371 the whole hemisphere. To impress this more deeply on CHAP. Taswell's memory, his father's house was burned and _ plundered, by officious persons offering to aid, of 40Z. On the 7th (Friday), like Pepys, Evelyn visited the City. He made his way on foot from Whitehall to London Bridge. ' I was infinitely concerned to find that stately church ' S. Paul's, now a sad ruin, and that beautiful portico (for ' structure comparable to any in Europe, as not long 1 before repaired by the late King) now rent in pieces, ' flakes of vast stones split asunder, and nothing remain- ' ing entire but the inscription on the architrave, show- ' ing by whom it was built, which had not one letter of 1 it defaced. It was astonishing to see what immense i stones the heat had in a measure calcined, so that all ' the monuments, columns, friezes, capitals, and projec- 1 tions of massy Portland stone, flew off even to the very ' roof, where a sheet of lead (covering a great space no ' less than six acres by measure) was totally melted. The ( ruins of the vaulted roof falling in broke into S. Faith's, ' which being filled with the magazines of books belong- 4 ing. to the stationers and carried thither for safety, they ' were all consumed, burning for a week following. It ' was also observable that the lead over the altar at the ' east end was untouched, and among the monuments the ' body of one Bishop remained entire. 1 Thus lay in ashes ' that most venerable church, one of the most ancient ' pieces of early piety in the Christian world, besides near ' one hundred more.' 2 So perished the old Cathedral of S. Paul's. The date of that building cannot be carried higher than the reign of William the Conqueror. But from that time it had stood, brooding as it were over the metropolis, a silent witness of all the civil and religious revolutions of England. 1 This -was Bishop Braybroke. 2 Evelyn, vol. ii. pp. 13, 14. B B 2 372 CAUSE OF FIKE. CHAP. A calamity so tremendous could not but arouse reli- _ ^J - gious emotions, and, as was the case, religious passions. So low and insignificant a cause as the over-heating a baker's oven could not be accepted for such an awful ruin and desolation. It must have been the work of some deadly and subtle enemy of the City, of the Church, and of the State. At such a period, the first suspicion of every fanatical mind (and how many minds were superior to such fanaticism ?) fell on Frenchmen and Papists. Young Taswell (the account was written when Taswell was old) describes the fury of the ignorant and excited mob, hur- ried, while the fire was still raging, into phrenzy, against foreigners or Roman Catholics, imagining that they ac- tually saw these incendiaries throwing red-hot balls into the houses. The boy himself saw a blacksmith fall on an innocent Frenchman, whose 'blood flowed down to his 1 heels.' In another place, he saw a French painter's house plundered, the house levelled to the ground. His brother saw a Frenchman in Moorfields almost torn to .pieces ; the poor man had a box of what they asserted to be fire-balls, but which turned out to be tennis-balls. How strongly and how deeply this stern and ineradicable conviction had sunk into the popular mind, is well known from the inscription on ' London's ' column, which so long, in the face of what should have been enlightened London, did Like a tall bully lift its head and lie. It was but reluctantly, and after much resistance, that this inscription was erased during the reign of James II., to resume its place at the Revolution. It was only in later and better times that it was finally blotted out. Dean Sancroft, as it will appear, had the wisdom and the courage publicly to repudiate these mischievous fables. Pepys, as Secretary to the Navy, had his head full of DEYDEN. 373 Dutchmen, then our formidable rivals, more than once CHAP. XV". our conquerors at sea. Perhaps with a sort of prophetic r-^ foresight of burning Chatham, with him the incendiaries were mysterious Hollanders, skulking in every part of the city. Dryden, who had not yet learned to admire the ' milk-white Hind unspotted and unchanged,' even now looked with hatred on some of the darker spots of the Panther. The incendiaries in his verses were the old Puritan republicans. In that early poem, the Annus Mirabilis, in which his genius broke out into some of its immortal power, but more of its extravagance, are these lines : Nor could thy fabric, Paul's, defend thee long, Though thou wert sacred to thy Maker's praise ; Though made immortal by a poet's song, 3 And poets' songs the Theban Avails could raise. The daring flames peeped in, and saw from far The awful beauties of thy sacred quire ; But since it was profaned by civil war, Heav'n thought it fit to have it purged by fire. 4 Evelyn alone, while with wise piety he bows before the hand of God, presumes not to penetrate the counsel of his providence. Yet in one significant sentence, Evelyn betrays the thoughts of his heart : * 5th Sept., the fire 4 crossed towards Whitehall, but oh ! the confusion there * was in that Court ! ' 6 8 Waller's lines, quoted above. 4 Annus Mirabilis, cccxxv. cccxxvi. * Somebody found out or forged a passage of Nostradamus, which not only clearly predicted the fire, but the year in which it was to break out : Le sang du juste a Londres fera faute, Brulez per foudres, de vingt-trois le six, La dame antique cherra de place haute ; De mesuie secte plusieurs seront occis. (Dugdale, p. 125.) 374 MONUMENTS IN OLD S. PAUL'S. CHAPTEE XVI. MONUMENTS IN OLD S. PATJI/S. CHAP. THE line of the Roman satirist, XVI. Quandoqnidem data sunt ipsis quoqne fata sepulchris ! found a melancholy illustration in S. Paul's. With the Cathedral perished all the monuments. Of the whole, very few, almost shapeless, calcined, and hardly distinguishable fragments remain, preserved with due respect in the crypt of the new Cathedral. Yet the loss is not so grievous as might be supposed. Considering that S. Paul's was the cathedral of the metropolis, it is surprising how few famous men, before the Reformation, reposed under its pavement, or were honoured with stately monuments. S. Paul's was never the burial-place of the Kings of England. Surrendering to Westminster, the mythic Sebert, S. Paul boasted of only two Saxon sovereigns. One of these was Sebba, King of the East Angles, for whom the only voucher was a tablet, suspended on the wall near what was supposed to be his grave. According to the inscription, Sebba was converted by Bishop Erkenwald, in the year 677. After thirty years' reign he abdicated his crown, and received the cowl from the hands of Bishop Walter, the successor of Erkenwald. The other was Ethelred the Unready. In the inscription near his grave, the proverbial mendacity of epitaphs does not err on >the side of flattery. Against Ethelred Archbishop Dunstan uttered his awful prophecy : ' As thou hast won the crown ' by the aid of thy infamous mother, and by the death of MONUMENTS IN OLD S. PAUL'S. 375 ' thy brother, the avenging sword shall never cease from CHAP. ' thy house, and thy kingdom shall pass away to a foreign >_" T '_ ' ruler.' The sin of Ethelred, the sin of his mother, the sin of his Council, was visited by the fulfilment of the Saint's prophecy. Ethelred, after many battles with Sweyne, the Dane, and with his son Canute, fled and was besieged in London, and died, worn out by a twenty-six years' reign of tribulation, A.D. 1017. What other Saxon Kings were commemorated on Sir Paul Pindar's screen does not appear. 1 Under our Norman Kings London was hardly the capi- tal of England. Our Norman Kings rested at Caen, at Winchester, at Reading, at Faversham ; the two first Plantagenets at Fontevraud, John at Worcester. After Henry III., except the murdered Edward II. at Gloucester, Henry IV. at Canterbury, the usurper Richard III. at Leicester, the exile James II. at S. Gerrnains, the first Brunswick at Hanover, all our Sovereigns repose at Westminster or Windsor. Nor did any of their families find rest in S. Paul's. The only royal sepulchre was that of John of Gaunt. 2 Over John of Gaunt rose a noble monument adorned with the chivalrous insignia of the Duke of Lancaster, who claimed the crown of Castile. The helmet and spear of the gallant old knight, and his target covered with horn were hanging on the tomb, where lay the recumbent images of John himself and his second wife, Catherine of Castile. His third wife, Cathe- rine Swinford, though a woman of exquisite beauty, and a faithful consort, who bore him many children, was not thought worthy of that honour. In the first Iconoclastic outburst, under Edward VI., this tomb being in danger, 1 Dugdale, p. 64. It boasts of his being the ancestor of 2 The inscription over John of that most prudent king, Henry VII. Gaunt's tomb was of a later period. 376 MONUMENTS OF BISHOPS. CHAR wa s specially protected by order of the government. It , ' can hardly have escaped the second, the reckless and wanton mischief of the rude or fanatic Cromwelliaii soldiery quartered in the church. By what strange fancy good Duke Humphrey was translated from S. Alban's to usurp the splendid Beauchamp monument, and become the patron of dinnerless parasites, it is not easy to conceive. Of her own Bishops S. Paul's had a long line in her vaults, commencing with her second patron, Saint Erken- wald. The tomb of William the Norman, once the Con- fessor's Chaplain and the Conqueror's Bishop, with the annual pilgrimage of the grateful citizens of London, has been already described, A.D. 1070. In the thirteenth century there had been a succession of noble prelates, famous in their day : Eustace Faucon- berg (1228), Roger Niger (1241), Fulk Basset (1259), Henry Wengham (1262). Under the same rich canopy were the tombs of Fauconberg and the great pluralist Wengham. Roger Niger's graceful monument was be- tween the choir and the north aisle. The tombs of other Bishops went to ruin in the first year of Edward VI. : Henry de Sandwith, Eichard de Gravesend, Ralph de Baldock, Richard de Newport, Michael de Northburgh, Richard de Clifford, Richard Hill, Richard Fitz James. It is believed that the others, engraved by Dugdale, escaped that merciless destruction ; but, in the later more general demolition, fell the chantry of Fulk Basset, and the mortuary chapel of Thomas Kemp, between the nave and north aisle ; their rich Gothic fretwork, their sculp- tured images, their mitred recumbent Bishops, would mark them out for special insult and desecration. The tomb of Richard Braybroke in the choir escaped inviolate, as far as the body of the Bishop. He was the prelate MONUMENT OF JOHN DE BEAUCHAMP IN OLD S. PAUL'S Commonly called the Tomb of ' Duke Humphry.' MONUMENTS OF STATESMEN. 377 whose remains appeared entire after the Fire. S. Paul's CHAP. XVI retained, and might be proud of, the sepulchres of her , _ greater Deans one before, two after, the Reformation Colet, Nowell, and Donne. Their tombs were respected until the unrespecting fire; and even then Donne re- mained, and does remain, sadly mutilated, but still to be recognised, in his simple, closely-clinging shroud, as he was not unskilfully represented in stone. The great warriors, great nobles, great statesmen of England were thinly scattered in the Cathedral. There was Sir Simon Burley, Warden of the Cinque Ports, high in the counsels of the unfortunate Richard II., beheaded as a traitor by the Parliamentary leaders ; his attainder was reversed by Henry IV. It was not till the reign of Elizabeth, as if the Abbey could not contain all the illustrious counsellors and soldiers of the great Queen, that some, and those of the most famous, were laid to rest in S. Paul's. Of the Bishops of London, Aylmer, Fletcher; under James I., Richard Yaughan, Ravis; but their tombs were destroyed. The first of the Elizabethan worthies (the less glorious names must be sought in Dugdale) was William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke (1569). The chief part of Herbert's distin- guished services had been in former reigns. His epitaph boasted of those services to four Sovereigns. He was Lord of the Bedchamber to Henry VIII., Master of the Horse to Edward VI., and President of Wales. With Barons Russell and Grey he had quelled the Western insurrec- tion. Under Queen Mary he had twice held the chief command against the rebels, had twice been Commander of the march of Calais before its fatal loss. He held large and honourable offices under Elizabeth. His wife was the sister of Queen Katherine Pan-. 378 SIK NICHOLAS BACON. CHAP. Like Pembroke, Sir John Mason had seen service under XVI r -^_ ' four Sovereigns. His inscription is in better verse than usual : Si quis erat prudens unquam fidusque Senator, Si quis erat patrise charus, amansque suae ; Si quis ad externas Legatus idoneus aras, Si cui justitise cura bonique fuit ; Is Masonus erat, cui tota Britannia testis, Testis amor procerum sit, populique favor. Tempore quinque suo regnantes ordine vidit : Horum a conciliis quatuor ille fuit. Tres et sex decies vixit, non amplius, annos. Hie tegitur corpus, spiritus alta tenet. Hunc tumulum conjux posuit dilecta marito ; Quemque viro posuit, destinat ipsa sibi. Triste nepos carmen (quern fecit adoptio natum) Turn patruo inscripsit, turn patruae, tumulum. 3 Sir Nicolas Bacon, Chancellor to Queen Elizabeth, him- self famous, more famous as father of his greater son, re- posed under a stately canopy. Half of Bacon's statue, in armour, survived the fire : Hie Nicolaum ne Baconem conditum existima, ilium tamdiu Britannici regni secundum columen. Exitium malis, bonis asylum ; caeca quern non exhibet ad mine honorem Sors, sed Equitas, > . Fides, Doctrina, Pietas, unica et Prudentia, hen, morte raptum crede. Qui unica brevi vita perennes emeruit duas, agit vitam secundam coelitos inter animos. Fama implet orbem vitas, quae illi tertia est. 4 Sir Thomas Baskervyle commanded the Queen's army in Picardy : These are the glories of a worthy praise, Which (noble Baskervyle) here now are read In honour of thy life and latter days, To number thee among the blessed dead. A pure regard to thy immortal part, A spotless mind, a body prone to pain. 3 Dugdale, p. 64. 4 Ibid. p. 50. SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 379 A giving hand and an unvanquished heart, CHAP. And all these virtues, void of all disdain, XVI. And all these virtues, yet not so unknown But Netherlands, Seas, India, Spain, and France Can witness that these honours were thine own, Which they reserve, thy merit to advance, That valour should not perish void of fame, For noble deeds but leave a noble name. He died in France in 1597. Greater names are to come. If the dust of any of our glorious Englishmen deserved perpetual honour, if any tomb ought to have remained inviolate, few would deserve that homage more fully than that of Sir Philip Sidney. From the fisld of Zutphen the remains of Sidney were brought to rest in the Cathedral of S. Paul's : England, Netherlands, the Heavens, and the Arts, The Souldiers, and the World, have made six parts Of noble Sidney ; for none will suppose That a small heap of stones can Sidney enclose. His bodie hath England, for she it bred ; Netherlands his blood, in her defence shed ; The Heavens have his soule, the Arts have his fame, All Souldiers the grief, the World his good name. The poetry of Sidney's life outshines the poetry of his writings. It has all the nobleness of expiring chivalry without its barbarity. He did more gallant acts than most of Elizabeth's greatest warriors, and spoke bolder words to his haughty mistress than her wisest counsellors. As a poet a poet must have been great to have shone in the age of Spenser and Shakspeare he is almost alone in his glory in S. Paul's. We -have no Poets' Corner, in which our unrivalled masters of verse repose, or have monuments raised to their honour. If Sidney had never written a verse, his prose Defence of Poesy might alone 380 WALSINGHAM. CHAP, have enrolled him in that immortal band. Of all monu- XVT _ , '_ ments in S. Paul's (it was but a tablet of wood), that of Sir Philip Sidney is the one the loss of which I most deeply deplore. Ought it not to be replaced ? Any incident in the life or death of Sidney may be held sacred. A small paper in his own handwriting, his dying hand, for it was traced after he was mortally wounded, has been discovered in the State Paper Office. It contains a few hasty words addressed to a medical man named Weyer, entreating him to come to his assistance. I have received, by the kindness of my friend Mr. Froude, a fac- simile of this most remarkable autograph, of which a copy is subjoined. Near to Philip Sidney rested Francis Walsingham, the wisest, after Cecil, of Elizabeth's counsellors ; the man whose lynx-like sagacity, the more the secrets of the diplo- macy during that reign are revealed, becomes more mani- fest. There was not a Cabinet in Europe of which Walsing- ham did not know the most secret proceedings, where he had not his agencies ; every word, uttered or written, found its way to his ear, friendly or unfriendly to England or England's Queen. If he stooped to craft, it was to counter- work craft even more unscrupulous than his own. After his long and weary and ill-rewarded life (he spent his whole fortune in the Queen's service, whose hard frugality refused him any remuneration), he found repose beneath the pavement of S. Paul's. His Latin epitaph spoke for once the truth and no more than the truth. After recit- ing his services in France, in Belgium, in Scotland, in England ' Quibus in muneribus tanta cum prudentia, * abstlnentia, munificentia, moderatione, pietate, industria ' et sollicitudine versatus est, ut a multis periculis * patriam liberaret, servaret rempublicam, connrmaret 4 pacem, juvare cunctos studuerit, inprimis quos bellica SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON. 381 ' virtus commendavit : seipsum denique neglexit, quo CHAP. 4 prodesset aliis, eosque valetudinis et facultatum suarum < i dispendio sublevaret.' The English verses, if not very free and harmonious, strike out his character with the force of truth : Right gentle Reader, be it known to thee, A famous Knight doth here interred He, Noble by birth, renown'd for policie, Confounding foes which wrought our jeopardie. In foreign countries their intents he knew : Such was his zeal to do his country good. When dangers would by enemies ensue As well as they themselves he understood. There are below two mysterious lines, as if he had not died by fair means : In England Death cut off his dismal days, Not wrong'd by Death, but by false Treachery. After these came a far less worthy man, but interred with much greater pomp, and covered by a more sump- tuous monument. From his splendid palace in Hatton Garden (the plunder of the See of Ely) was borne, with a" magnificent procession, Sir Christopher Hatton, Lord Chancellor and Keeper of the Great Seal. A most stately pyramidal monument was erected in his honour, insolently crowding up the space in which rested Sidney and Wal- singham. Public indignation, in his own day, broke out Philip and Francis have no tomb, The great Christopher takes all the room. These verses outlived the florid eulogy and the long bad poetry inscribed on Hatton's monument. Bishop Corbet, in the next reign, in his verses on Bishop Eavis, per- petuated the protest : 382 CROFT. CREKE. CHAP. Nor need the Chancellor boast, whose pyramid XVL Above the host and altar reared is, For though thy body fill a viler room,* Thou shalt not change deedes with him for his tomb. 5 After Elizabeth, great names become more and more rare. I cannot regret that S. Paul's ceased to receive the ashes of this inferior race. There is only one which I note from the strange title the man bore ' the explorer * of Ireland ' as if he had been the Park or Livingstone of that undiscovered region. Over the epitaph of Sir Henry Croft, King James himself might have bent in admiration and envy at its inimitable absurdity : Six lines this Image shall delineate, Hight Croft, high borne, in spirit and virtue high, Approv'd, belov'd, a knight, stout Mars his mate, Love's fire, War's flame in Heart, Hand, Head, and Eye : Which flame, War's comet, grace now so refines, That fixed in heaven, on heaven and earth it shines. Prosopopeia. The Wombe and Tombe in name be not so neere As Life to Death, as Birth is to the Beere : Oh, then, how soon to Beere are Captains brought, That now do live, and die now with a thought. Then, Captains, stay and read still think on me, For with a thought what I am you may be. As Mars neere Mors doth sound, So Mors neere Mars is found. I must, for contrast, insert the close of an inscription to a civilian, a Dr. Creke : Honeste vixit, Neminem laesit, Suum cuique tribuit. 6 s These lines I omitted above. ' Dugdale, p. 38. OWEN. HEWET. 383 Of men of letters the burial registers of S. Paul's were CHAP. XVI lamentably barren. There were a few civil lawyers, dis- * tinguished no doubt in their day, now forgotten even in Doctors Commons. Lely, the grammarian, the second master of S. Paul's School ; Linacre, the physician, the friend of Colet and of Erasmus are the best. We must absolutely sink down (can we sink lower ?) to Owen, the Latin epigrammatist, a man, however, of no slight note in his day, as his magniloquent epitaph shows : Parva tibi statua est, quia parva statura: supellex Parva, volat parvus magna per ora liber. Sed nee parvus honos, non parva est gloria, quippe Ingenio hand quicquam majus in orbe tuo Parva domus texit, templum sed grande. Poetse Turn vere vitam, cum moriuntur, agunt. There were not even, as far as I can trace, any of the more famous citizens of London, the merchant princes of their day, interred in the cathedral. I find no inscription which boasts that the deceased had borne the honourable title of Lord Mayor, excepting one. There was a sump- tuous tomb to a man who had been Lord Mayor, between that of Colet and that of Sir William Cockayne. There is a singular history attached to this Sir William Hewet. Much of his splendid fortune, an estate of 6,OOOL a year, through a romance of real life, devolved on the Osbornes, the ancestors of the Dukes of Leeds. Sir William Hewet lived on London Bridge ; he had three sons and one only daughter. When quite an infant, the maid-servant let the daughter fall into the river. A young gentleman, named Osborne, apprentice to Sir William, plunged in after her, and, at the peril of his life, brought her safe to land. Sir William, having refused splendid offers for the hand of his daughter (one of them no less than the Earl 384 HEWET. CHAP, of Shrewsbury), bestowed her upon Osborne. < Osborne -L , '_- ' saved her; Osborne shall have her.' With his daughter he left part of his noble estate ; the first opening of the fortunes of the House of Osborne, which culminated in the famous Earl of Danby. 7 7 Maitland's London, p. 554. THE NEW CATHEDKAL. 385 CHAPTEE XVII. THE NEW CATHEDEAL. WILLIAM SANCROFT, at the time of the Fire, was Dean of CHAP. XVII. S. Paul's. Of the Bishop, Henchman, excepting that at a , - later period he rebuilt the palace of the Bishops of Lon- don, at his own cost, in Aldersgate Street, and contributed generously to the new Cathedral, we know not much. The Civil Wars found Sancroft at Cambridge. After some delay (whether through interest or personal respect, ex- traordinary in the Puritan College), he was ejected from his fellowship of Emanuel. A firm, but, it should seem, not an obnoxious Eoyalist, he lived in retirement. After the King's death he went to the Continent. There he was not only able to support himself, but to assist others, which he did with great liberality. Among these was Cosins, afterwards Bishop of Durham. Sancroft returned to England at the Restoration, and Bishop Cosins was able and willing to show his gratitude. He conferred on his benefactor a golden prebend, and the living of Houghton- le- Spring, then held to be one of the best and pleasantest benefices in England. Sancroft's rise was rapid ; he be- came Master of Emanuel College, in 1662 Dean of York, in 1664 Dean of S. Paul's. 1 1 Bancroft was concerned in cor- so high a style that it did not sound recting the press for the amended well in the ears of the Primate. Prayer Book. Burnet declared, that Sheldon caused his own form to be the office for January 30th, which he substituted. Sancroft's form must seems to attribute to Sancroft, was in have been high indeed if it soared C C 386 DEAN BANCROFT. CHAP. After the Fire 2 the obstinate piety of Bancroft clung to XVJI r ' the ruins of old S. Paul's. In a sermon before the King, October 10, 1667, highly to his credit, he contemptuously repudiated all the charges of incendiarism : ' And there- 4 fore dream no longer of grenados or fire-balls, or the * rest of those witty mischiefs. Search no more for bout- ' feus, or incendiaries, Dutch or French. The Dutch ' intemperance, and the French pride and vanity, and the * rest of their sins, which we are so fond of, are infinitely < more dangerous to us, than the enmity of either nation, * for we have made God our enemy too ; or if you will * needs find out the incendiary, " Intus hostis, intus pe- ( riculum," saith S. Jerome. Turn your eyes inward into ' your own bosoms. There lurks the great make-bate, ' the grand bout-feu, between earth and us.' In the rest of the sermon, Bancroft approaches sublimity. He dwells on God's mercy : ' Thanks be to the Lord, who has so f long showed us marvellously great kindness. I say not ' with the Psalm, in the strong city (though the strongest ' without Him is weakness), but in a very weak one, a ' city in the meanness of its materials, the oldness of the ' buildings, the straitness of some streets, the ill situa- ' tion of others, and many like inconveniences, so exposed ' to this dismal accident, that it must have been long ' since in ashes, had not His miraculous mercy preserved ' it : who so long as He pleaseth, and that is just so long * as we please Him, continues the FIRE to us, useful ' and safe, serviceable, and yet innocent, with as much * ease as he lays it asleep and quiet in the bosom of a < flint.' 3 .above that which was read till within Tunbridge. Some of the London a few years in our churches. But clergy were reproved for deserting Burnet was no friend to Sancroft. their flocks. Letter in Ellis, 2nd series, 2 During the Plague the Bishop vol. iv. pp. 21-28. was safe at Fulham, the Dean at 3 Bancroft's Life, byD'Oyley.p. 377. BANCROFT TO WEEN. 387 This sermon must have been preached in some part of CHAP, the ruined Cathedral. 'His compassions fail not, that ^ . * God hath left us yet a holy place to assemble in, * solemnly to acknowledge, as we do this day, that most ' miraculous mercy,. that before all our wit was puzzled, ' and all our industry tired out, when the wind was at the ' highest, and the fire at the hottest, when all our hope ' was now giving up the ghost, then He . . . restrained 1 also on the sudden the fury of that merciless and unruly ' element.' A temporary choir had, in fact, been hastily fitted up at the west end, thought the safest part of the ruins, the east being utterly desolate. 4 These hopes of restoration, or even of temporary occu- pation, soon came to a disastrous end. Sancroft writes to Wren, April or July 2, 1668 : ' Science at the height you 1 are master of it, is prophetic. What you last whispered ' in my ear at your last coming hither, is now come to * pass. Our work at the west end of S. Paul's is fallen ' about our ears. Your quick eye discerned the walls and ' pillars gone off from their perpendicular, and, I believe, ' other defects too, which are now exposed to every ' common observer. The third pillar from the west, at ' the south side, which they had new cased with stone, ' fell with a sudden crash ; the next, bigger than the rest, ' stood alone, certain to fall, yet so unsafe, that they ' dared not venture to take it down. In short, the whole ' work of Inigo Jones was so overloaded as to threaten a f total wreck.' . . . And again, ' You are so absolutely * necessary to us that we can do nothing, resolve on ' nothing, without you.' 5 4 The sum laid out on these tern- Bancroft's Letter to Wren (D'Oy- porary repairs was 3.506J. 5. l|rf. ley's Sancroft, p. 171), dated July 2, See Dugdale, p. 126. 1668. cc 2 388 OLD S. PAUL'S. CHAP. From that time (about two years after the Fire), the _ XVIL , doom of old S. Paul's was irrevocably sealed. Nothing now remained but to clear away every vestige of the ancient fabric, and build a new one worthy of the nation and of the City the Christian nation, the Christian City. Was, then, the Fire of London, if so remorseless, so fatal a destroyer ? Are we to mourn with unmitigated sorrow over the demolition of old S. Paul's ? 6 Of England's more glorious Cathedrals, it seems to me, I confess, none could be so well spared. Excepting its vast size, it had nothing to distinguish it. It must have been a gloomy ponderous pile. The nave and choir were of different ages (that was common), but ill formed, ill adjusted together, with dispro- portioned aisles, and transepts, and a low, square, some- what clumsy tower, out of which once rose a spire, tall indeed, but merely built of woodwork and lead. London would, at best, have been forced to bow its head before the cathedrals of many of our provincial cities. Old S. Paul's had nothing of the prodigal magnificence, the harmonious variety of Lincoln, the stately majesty of York, the solemn grandeur of Canterbury, the perfect sky-aspiring unity of Salisbury. It had not even one of the great concep- tions which are the pride and boast of some of our other churches ; neither the massy strength of Durham * looking ' eternity ' with its marvellous Galilee, nor the tower of Gloucester, nor the lantern of Ely, nor the rich pic- turesqueness of Beverley, nor the deep receding, highly decorated arches of the west front of Peterborough. And of ancient S. Paul's, the bastard Gothic of Inigo Jones * Even within our own days, the from any unwillingness to implore anniversary of the Fire of London the special protection of the Almighty (September 2) was observed by a over our matchless fabric at the special service in S. Paul's, but that same time that the special State ser- service had altogether lost its mean- vices were abolished, it was thought ing ; it had no longer any hold on the fit to discontinue the commemoration scanty worshippers. Therefore not of the Fire of London. WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 389 had cased the venerable if decayed walls throughout with CHAP. XVII a flat incongruous facing. The unrivalled beauty of Inigo , Jones's ' Portico ' was the deformity of the Church. Even in its immediate neighbourhood, though wanting a cen- tral tower, and its western towers, not too successfully afterwards added by Sir Christopher Wren, the Abbey, with its fine soaring columns, its beautiful proportions, its solemn, grey, diapered walls, the Abbey, with its in- tricate chapels, with its chambers of royal tombs, with Henry VII.'s Chapel, an excrescence indeed, but in suffi- cient harmony with the main building, in itself an inimi- table model of its style, crowned by its richly fretted roof, the Abbey of Westminster would have put to perpetual shame the dark unimpressive pile of the City of London : Westminster modestly reposing in its lower level S. Paul's boastfully loading its more proud, but more obtrusive eminence. The rebuilding of S. Paul's Cathedral was at once (the necessary delay of a few years intervening) assumed as a national work. It rested not with the Bishop, the Dean and Chapter, or the City of London. The King, the whole nobility, Parliament, without demur, recognised the paramount duty of erecting a splendid Cathedral, worthy of the metropolis, worthy of England. It was not, however, till November 12, 1673, that letters patent, under the Great Seal of England, were issued, an- nouncing the determination to erect a new Cathedral : ' Inasmuch as it is now become absolutely necessary totally * to demolish and to raze to the ground all the relics of ' the former building, and in the same place, and on new * foundations, to erect a new Church; wherefore that it ' may be done to the glory of God, and for the promotion of * the divine service therein to be celebrated, and to the end * that the same may equal if not exceed the splendour and S90 EOYAL PKOCLAMATION. CHAP. ' magnificence of the former Cathedral Church when it XV J I. c was in its best estate, and so become, much more than ' formerly, the principal ornament of our Royal City, to ' the honour of our government and this our realm.' The warrant proceeds to state that ' the King had seen and ap- ' proved a design for the new Cathedral, by Dr. Christopher ' Wren, Surveyor-General of our Works and Buildings, and ' has ordered a working-model to be made thereof.' The warrant is addressed to the Lord Mayor, for the time being, of the City of London, who takes precedence, even of Gilbert, Archbishop of Canterbury, Shaftesbury, Lord Chancellor, the Archbishop of York, and all the great officers of State, the Bishop of London and other Bishops, the Judges, the Dean and Residentiaries of S. Paul's. These all (with others) are appointed Commissioners for the rebuilding, new erecting, and adorning the said Cathe- dral Church of S. Paul in London, on the same church- yard, upon new foundations and according to the design and model above mentioned. Six Commissioners were to be a quorum, of which the Bishop of London, or the Dean of S. Paul's, for the time being, to be one. The powers of the Commissioners were ample. They were to call to their assistance such skilful artists, officers, and workmen, as they shall think fit, to pay proper salaries, to issue orders and instructions as to the money brought into the treasury, to keep the books and accounts controlled and audited ; finally, to advise, treat, and consider, of all other things, ways, and means, for the better advancement and perfecting of the same. There was a provision alas ! for- gotten, at least not carried out to frame orders for the * better preservation and maintenance of the said Cathe- ( dral Church in time to come, and for the preventing ' and suppressing of all present and future annoyances, ' purprestures, and encroachments, which do, shall, or may FUNDS FOR THE NEW CATHEDEAL. 391 * ' in any way tend to the damage or hurt, blemishing or CHAP. v f^ , XVII. ' disgrace, of the same. >_ t The design for the building of the new Cathedral re- ^ quired some time for its completion, vast sums for its execution. The cost was to be defrayed, partly by sub- scriptions to be raised throughout the kingdom, partly by taxation on the City of London and Westminster. The accounts of the receipts under each of these heads from the year 1664 (the subscriptions and expenditure on the repairs before the Fire are included) are stated at length in Ellis's Dugdale. The subscriptions were headed by the King, who ordered that 1,OOOZ. should be contributed an- nually in quarterly payments from his privy purse. But we seek in vain for this payment; King Charles II.'s privy purse was exhausted, no doubt, by other than pious uses. One donation appears out of impropriations due to the King and not pardoned, 1,6271. 9s. 8$d. In 1676 appears his Majesty's gift from ' Green Wax Forfeitures,' 163Z. 18s. So ends the Eoyal Bounty. Primate Sheldon, as was his wont, was munificent. The total amount of his subscription (Juxon had left a considerable legacy for the repairs of S. Paul's) was 2,000?. The Bishop of London (Henchman) subscribed largely and left a con- siderable bequest. Of the other Bishops, Morley of Win- chester, and Crew of Durham, were liberal contributors. There was a commutation of charges on Bishops, on pro- motion, in lieu of gloves, towards 50L On consecration, 100Z. Parochial subscriptions came in from all the dio- ceses of England. But, after all, the chief expenditure was borne by the coal duty, granted by Parliament, and renewed from time time, at varying rates, varying also in its apportionment. The tax was granted to the City of London, in stated pro- portions, for the building of S. Paul's, and of the other' 392 COAL TAX. t CHAP, city churches, and for general improvements. 7 In the / , _< second Act one moiety of 3s. per chaldron went to the City ; of the other 13^d. to the other churches; ^\d. to S. Paul's. This, as all London was supplied with sea- borne coal, and the duty could be easily and fairly col- lected, was, perhaps, as equitable a tax as could be de- vised ; the rich generally in their palaces consuming, in proportion, more fuel than the poor in their tenements. The coal had its revenge on the public buildings, espe- cially on S. Paul's, by the damage which it did and still does by its smoke. The total receipts for the Cathedral from August 5, 1664, to March 1685, amounted to 126,604L 6s. 5d. The total disbursements on all accounts to 124,2612. 4s. lid. By a fire at Guildhall, the later subscription lists, copies of which had not been sent to the muniment room at S. Paul's, were irrecoverably lost. A second commission was opened on the accession of James II., not differing much in its powers and provisions. Sir Christopher Wren was designated in the King's Commission as the architect of the new Cathedral. Wren, as we have seen, had been employed to survey the old fabric. To Wren Bancroft had looked in his despair, when his temporary edifice threatened to fall on his head. Wren had already been employed by the King's authority to make the design which he was to execute. Wren, in truth, stood alone as an architect without rival or com- petitor. He was chosen, not by the King's will alone, but, it may be said, by general acclamation. The civil wars and the Commonwealth were equally fatal to all the fine arts. Raffaelle's cartoons had struck out a flash of admiration from the iron heart of Cromwell. The Protector ordered a bidding when they were on sale. The awe of his name paralysed the cupidity of dealers 7 The successive Acts in Dugdale, p. 169. SIE C.WREN. 393 and the agents of foreign potentates. At the Lord Pro- CHAP. tector's offer of 600Z., not a voice was heard to contest the , - sale. The rest of the splendid collection at Whitehall wandered away, chiefly to Spain. In those days the archi- tect's profession must have been altogether barren. With the King the designs for the King's Palace, Whitehall, came to an end. Most of the wealthy nobles, who had built Burleigh, and Longleat, and Hatfield, and Audley End, and Woollaton, had kept in prudent retirement, or were left impoverished by the war the Royalists, by minis- tering to the King's necessities, or by being mulcted to the conquering Parliament. They could no longer indulge in such expenditure. Probably no great palace-like man sion was begun in England till Clarendon's fatal Dunkirk House. After the Rebellion, the building of churches had come to an end. Square preaching-houses with four bare walls sufficed for the worship of God. Inigo Jones had died, during the Protectorate, in poverty and obscurity. He might have seen, if he could have endured the sight, the noble front of his Banqueting House at Whitehall defaced and obscured by the scaffold- ing and platform which was to reek with that King's blood who had so often gazed with delight on his fantastic masques. He may have seen his noble Portico at S. Paul's broken up into mean shops, and occupied by vulgar huck- sters. He died about ten years before the fire swallowed up the restored Cathedral and purified Portico. Charles II. had invited the French architect Claude Perrault, who had built the new front of the Louvre, to England. Happily for Wren, happily for London, Perrault declined the summons. On the Restoration, Denham the poet 8 had been named Surveyor to the King. 8 Evelyn has amusingly recorded ' John Denham (his Majesty's Sur- his judgement of Denham. ' With Sir ' veyor) to consult with him about 394 WEEN, KING'S SUKVEYOE. CHAP. The poet's incapacity for the incongruous office soon be- , 1- came manifest. Wren was appointed his coadjutor ; but Denham continued to hold the title till his death. Then he was succeeded by Wren, who had fulfilled all the duties of the office, and now assumed the full title and power of King's Surveyor. Wren had a kind of hereditary right to be the architect of fine ecclesiastical buildings. He was the nephew of Matthew Wren, the Laudian Bishop of Norwich. Like Laud, the Bishop of Norwich had the ambition of rendering the Church services more stately. Unhappily, like Laud, he was guilty of severity, perhaps cruelty, in carrying out that design. As, therefore, he was held to be the most danger- ous, he was the most obnoxious of the Bishops to the Par- liamentary party. He shared the prison, hardly escaped sharing the scaffold, of Laud. The high character of Chris- topher Wren, even when young, might have alleviated his uncle's sufferings. Through the Claypoles (Mrs. Claypole, Oliver's favourite daughter) Wren found himself in the presence of Cromwell. Cromwell gave a sort of careless assent to . the liberation of the Bishop. But the sturdy Loyalist Churchman, though he must submit to imprison- ment by the Usurper, would not so far admit the authority of Cromwell as to accept release from imprisonment by his order ; he remained in his confinement. The father of Wren was Dean of Windsor, as faithful to his King as his brother,' a man of more scientific knowledge than learning. From his father Wren inherited what may be called a passion for scientific inquiry. He was one of ' the placing of his palace at Green- ' it on piles at the very brink of the ' wich, which I would have had built ' water, which I did not assent to ; ' between the river and the Queen's ' and so came away, knowing Sir John ' House, so as a large square cut ' to be a better poet than architect.' ' should have let in the Thames like Vol. i. p. 356. ' a bay ; but Sir John was for setting SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. From a Portrait l>y Kneller, in the Gallery of the Royal Society. YOUTH OF WREN. 395 those few precocious youths who entirely fulfil the promise CHAP, of their boyhood. At the age of thirteen he presented to ^_- T ._! his father an astronomical instrument of his own inven- tion, with a copy of Latin verses by no means destitute of merit. In the case of Wren at Westminster School, Latin verse did not interfere with science. There is another much longer hexameter poem on the Zodiac, which the devout youth would Christianise, discarding the profane pagan names of the Signs, and substituting others from our religion for Leo, the Lion of Judah, for the Twins, Jacob and Esau ; we cannot doubt about the Virgo. At fourteen years Wren entered at Oxford as a fellow- commoner of Wadham. At Oxford he happily encountered men able and willing to appreciate and encourage in the right course the development of his extraordinary powers : Wilkins, afterwards Bishop of Chester; Seth Ward, the Warden of his college, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury. Young Wren was initiated in that circle of men who took refuge in scientific pursuits from the turbulent and perilous politics of the day, and from the collision of hostile fanaticisms. No higher testimony can be borne to the character and attainments of young Wren than that of Evelyn: 'After dinner (Wren had become Fellow of ' All Souls) visited that miracle of a youth, Mr. Christopher ' Wren, nephew of the Bishop of Ely.' 9 In another work Evelyn writes of ' that rare and early prodigy of universal ' science, Dr. Christopher Wren, our worthy and accom- 6 plished friend.' It was the universality of Wren's genius which struck and impressed Evelyn, a man of the soundest and calmest judgement. There was no branch of scientific inquiry of which he was not master, in which he had not advanced as far as any man, and surpassed most. I can only deplore my own ignorance on such subjects. Wren 9 Diary, July 11, 1634. 396 WEEN, AS PHILOSOPHEK. CHAP, lias not been fortunate in his biographers. It would be XVII , '-s but due honour I might say justice to his memory (a chapter in the history of science which ought to be written), if some competent philosopher would determine the originality and the value of Wren's multifarious inventions and discoveries. His range was boundless, all-comprehensive. Nothing was too profound for his restless mind. In Astronomy, Wren became Savilian Professor of Astronomy at Oxford, Gresham Professor of Astronomy in London. In the higher mathematics he gave a solution of Pascal's celebrated problem ; in aero- statics, he claimed to be the inventor, at least the first who, with his friend Boyle, ascertained the use and value of the barometer ; he studied chemistry, mechanics' for him nothing was too profound, nothing too minute. Orders are sent to him from the King (Charles dabbled in scien- tific, pursuits) to send up his lunar globe, and at the same time to continue his microscopic investigations about in- sects. There is extant a catalogue of no less than fifty- two inventions or discoveries, some of high importance, claimed by or attributed to Wren. 1 Wren was a chosen brother, an active and zealous member, of that Club (of which his Oxford friends, Wilkins and Ward, were leaders) which held its meetings and delivered lectures at Gresham College, grew in fame and influence, and at length, incor- porated by Royal Charter, became and still lives as the famous Koyal Society. While, however, Wren might seem destined to be the precursor, if not the actual anticipator, of some of our great discoverers in one or more of the great sciences of that art or science, or both, in which he was to tran- scend all Englishmen who have attained fame, and to rival the most renowned in Europe, he does not appear to have 1 Elmes's Life. WEEN, AS ARCHITECT. 397 made any special study. He suddenly breaks out, as it CHAP, were, as a consummate architect. He is installed as Sur- t _ veyor to the King ; he is consulted, first, on the restora- tion of the Cathedral, then commissioned to prepare the design and model for the new building. It is even more extraordinary, that the first great work which he is known to have executed, which from its most felicitous adapta- . tion to its peculiar purpose, from the ingeniousness and successful boldness of its entirely original construction, has remained an object of admiration, almost of wonder, was the Sheldonian Theatre at Oxford. From that time Wren ruled as the supreme and undis- puted oracle of architecture ; no one presumed to question, no one aspired to rival, his authority ; and it was not the fault of Wren that London missed the glorious oppor- tunity offered by the Fire, of rising from its ashes, if the wealthiest, also the noblest and most commanding city in Europe. It was not Wren's fault that her streets were not broad and spacious. His plan showed regularity, with- out long and wearisome monotony ; the streets terminat- ing and issuing forth again from commodious and ample centres. 2 It was not Wren's fault that the river was not bordered with magnificent quays, which would have given order and facility to her commerce, and made the Thames the mirror to her splendour as well as the channel to her wealth. It was not the fault of Wren that her churches, which rose from his hand in such infinite variety, with their tall and graceful towers and steeples, were not presented to her streets, each with its front visible and accessible to the worshippers, and enlivening and adorn- ing the thoroughfares. It was not the fault of Wren that S. Paul's was cabined and confined by buildings crowding around it, though kept in his day in some 2 See the plans in Elmes and other works. 398 WEEK'S TBAVELS. CHAP, subordinate proportion, and contrasting in their modest . lowliness (in this he succeeded) with the great crowning structure. Now, alas ! from the prodigal, ambitious wealth of London's traders, those adjacent buildings soar to an insubordinate height, crossing, breaking, dislocating the exquisitely flowing, balanced, and harmonious lines of the . Cathedral. It was not Wren's fault that S. Paul's did not stand in a broad, wide area, even if an encircling portico, like Bernini's at Rome, could not find room and ample verge to show its perfect proportions, to present every side with its unbroken, varied, but exquisite harmony of design. 3 It is remarkable too that Wren had not only no special education for the art or science of architecture ; 4 up to this time he had not that, perhaps better, education, the careful study of the great works displayed by the masters of the art in Europe. He who was to rival S. Peter's never saw S. Peter's. In the year 1665, Wren made a journey to Prance. But it is characteristic of the times that, in his account of the public buildings which he saw, there is not a word about the matchless French cathedrals, Amiens, Bheirns, Chartres, Rouen, or even of what he could not but see, Notre Dame at Paris. He studied with great care the Louvre, Versailles, and de- scribes them with felicitous judgement, as also S. Ger- mains, Pontainebleau, and the * incomparable villas' in the neighbourhood of Paris. Of any church he is * The prophetic fears of Wren 4 It is a singular instance of the had foreseen the evil which was to confidence reposed in the universal deface all the magnificent designs for genius of Wren, that it was proposed London with which the Legislature to send him out to put Tangiers (the of our day vainly endeavours to cope Queen's dowery city) in a state of de- the smoke nuisance. He would have fence. No one could be found so inexorably banished from the city likely to understand the science of all works and manufactories which fortification. Happily for Wren, hap- vomit forth their black and deleterious pily for S. Paul's, he declined this dis- clouds. tinction. S. PETER'S. 399 silent ; S. Genevieve was not yet built. He had an inter- CHAP. view with Bernini, then at Paris, who had been invited to -/ T 1 complete the Louvre. * Bernini's design for the Louvre * I would have given my skin for, but the old reserved ' Italian gave me but a few minutes' view ; it was five ' little designs, for which he has received as many thou- ' sand pistoles.' 5 Bernini's well-paid design for the Louvre was not adopted. What then was to be the style and character of the Cathedral about to rise in the metropolis of England, worthy of her piety, her wealth, and her fame ? Of this, at that time, and witKWren for the architect, there could be no doubt. Gothic architecture throughout Christen- dom was dead. In England, its last refuge, it had ex- pired in what after all were but Collegiate and Royal Chapels King's at Cambridge, Henry VII. 's at West- minster. Throughout Europe Gothic and ( barbarous ' bore the same meaning ; Catholicism had revived under the Jesuit reaction, but her churches affected the Classical Renaissance style. S. Peter's was the unrivalled pride of the Christian world, the all-acknowledged model of church architecture. To rival S. Peter's, to approach its unapproachable gran- deur, was a worthy object of ambition to an English, a Protestant architect. S. Peter's had been built from the religious tribute of the whole Christian world ; it might be said at the cost of a revolution which severed half the world from the dominion of Rome. It had been com- menced at least by payments out of the sins of mankind. It had wrought up the doctrine of Indulgences to such a height, to such revolting excess in the hands of papal fanatics, as to force the awakening world to resistance. If Julius II. had not begun, if Leo had not continued, the * Wren's letter in Elmes, p. 179. 400 . S. PETER'S. CHAP. Church, of S. Peter's, Luther would at least have wanted , '-^ one note of that fierce trumpet blast with which he woke the world. S. Peter's had been the work of about twenty Popes, from Julius II. to Urban VIII. It was its misfortune rather than its boast, that it had commanded in succes- sion the creative powers of many men of the most tran- scendent genius, who had each his conception and his plan. The consequence was that, instead of advancing, it degenerated, both in grandeur and beauty, perhaps from Bramante and San Gallo, certainly from Michael Angelo and Fontana, till, in the bitter words of an English writer, ' a paltry plasterer from Como, Carlo Maderno, marred ' the beauty of the great design, and ill completed what ' had been so nobly begun.' 6 S. Paul's is the creation of one mind ; it is one great harmonious conception ; it was begun and completed, so far as the exterior at least, dur- ing the life of that one man. S. Peter's unquestionably, beyond its more vast and imposing dimensions, has some insuperable advantages. Let us imagine what would be the effect of S. Paul's, rising in its grace and majesty, and basking in the cloudless sunlight of the Italian heavens, instead of brooding under a dense and murky canopy of vapour, up to a pale and lifeless sky. See too the vast open area in which S. Peter's stands, with Bernini's por- ticos, large enough for effect, yet in humble subordination to the vast fabric which they enclose, with the obelisks and fountains, all in fine proportion. Even the Vatican on one side, a picturesque pile of irregular buildings, leaves the fa9ade undisturbed, and sets off rather than en- cumbers the immense edifice to which it is attached. But against this might have been set the one great advantage 6 This degeneracy may be traced subject. Forsyth is the author of in Bonami's Historia Tcmpli Vaticani the acrid sentence against Carlo Ma- and in Fontana's work on the same derno. WEST VIEW OF S. PAUL'S, B: PAUL'S. 401 of which S. Paul's ought to have fully availed itself. S. . CHAP. Paul's, instead of crouching on a flat level, stands on a -_ x , _ majestic eminence, overlooking the city and looked up to from every part. It has but one street of approach ; alas ! only a narrow esplanade before its west front. The street, moreover, does not come up bold and straight, but with an awkward obliquity; while on all sides the buildings, which Wren kept down to the height of humble vassals, now aspire to be almost its rivals in height. My feeling has ever been a strong desire that the giant could stretch itself, thrust back the intrusive magazines and warehouses to a respectful distance, and make itself a broad, regular, fine approach, and encircling 1 space. Nevertheless, what building in its exterior form does not bow its head before S. Paul's ? What eye, trained to all that is perfect in architecture, does not recognise the inimitable beauty of its lines, the majestic yet airy swell- ing of its dome, its rich, harmonious ornamentation ? It is singular, too, that S. Paul's, which, by its grandeur, of old asserted its uncontested dignity, as a crown and glory of London, now that it is invaded, far and near, by huge tall fabrics, railway termini, manufactories, and ma- ' gazines, with immense chimneys, still appears at a distance with a grace which absolutely fascinates the eye, the more exquisite from the shapelessiiess of all around, and of all within a wide range about it. Mr. Fergusson, though sternly impartial and impatient of some defects which strike his fastidious judgement, writes, * It will hardly be ' disputed that the exterior of S. Paul's surpasses in ' beauty of design all the other examples of the same * class which have yet been carried out ; and whether seen ' from a distance or near, it is, externally at least, one of ' the grandest and most beautiful churches of Europe.' 7 Vol. iii. p. 274. D D 402 THE TWO DESIGNS. CHAP. . But with the matchless exterior ceases the superiority, XVII - , '> and likewise, to a great degree, the responsibility of Wren. .His designs for the interior were not only not carried out, but he was in every way thwarted, controlled, baffled in his old age, to the eternal disgrace of all concerned (of this more hereafter), the victim of the pitiful jealousy of some, the ignorance of others, the ingratitude of all. Wren, it is well known, made two designs for S. Paul's. Which of the two is that mentioned in the Royal Com- mission of 1675 is not quite clear. The first exists in the model, long preserved in what was called the Trophy Room, in the Cathedral. It unfortunately has suffered much from neglect, decay, and the uncontrolled mischief of visitors. That which was one of its noblest features its long stately western portico has entirely disappeared. 8 This design was a Greek cross. Wren, it is said, pre- ferred it as a model for a Protestant cathedral. But the form, that of a Greek cross surmounted by a dome, goes back to a much earlier period, to S. Sophia at Constanti- nople, and to the old Justinian Church at Ravenna. The Byzantine Cross, it is said, did not please the clergy in the Commission as not sufficiently of a cathedral form. The author of the ' Parentalia ' calls the new plan, ' the ' Gothic rectified to a better manner of architecture,' 9 that is, the plan was that of the old cathedrals, the architec- ture in the later classical style. In this respect alone, I 8 It was lent to and still remains ' as an eminent and costly perform- in the Architectural Exhibition at ' ance, and a monument, among many South Kensington, on condition of ' others, of the skill of the greatest repairing some of its reparable parts ' geometrician and architect of his (a condition but imperfectly fulfilled). ' time.' Alas ! the wish expressed in the 8 Mr. Ashpitel, in the ' Transactions Parentalia was vain. 'The model ' of the London Archaeological Society,' was deposited in a room over the vol. iii. \ii., has given a very useful morning chapel on the north side, list and description of Wren's draw- where it is to be hoped such public ings relating to S. Paul's, preserved care will be taken that it may be in the library of All Souls, Oxford preserved, and if damaged repaired, PLAN OF S. PAUL'S AS ORIGINALLY DESIGNED BY SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. PLAN OF S. PAUL'S THE KING'S WARRANT. 403 am not heartily ashamed of my clerical forefathers. With CHAP. XVII all my admiration of the first design, I cannot regret the * , - prolongation of the nave, or its expansion into the Latin cross. Yet with Wren are Michael Angelo and Fontana. Down to Fontana, S. Peter's was a Greek cross. 1 There is a tradition that the recesses along the aisles of the nave were insisted upon by James II., whether as Duke of York or King James. He looked forward to the time when the Roman Catholic worship would take possession of the new Cathedral ; and then the line of chapels, want- ing only their altars, would be ready for the daily masses. The King's warrant, which followed about a year and a half after the appointment of the Commission, was dated May 1 7, 1675. The warrant states, that * whereas we have ' been informed that a portion of the duty on coal, which ' by Act of Parliament is appointed and set apart for the ' rebuilding of the Cathedral Church of S. Paul in our ' capital city of London, doth at present amount to a con- ' siderable sum, which though not proportionate to the ' greatness of the work, is notwithstanding sufficient to ' begin the same.' It then goes on to empower the 1 Compare Fergusson, p. 268. ' and constructive, shown by Wren in ' Notwithstanding all that may be ' the junction of his spherical surfaces ' urged against the present building, ' has never been approached, and ' we may fairly congratulate ourselves, ' there 19 no counterpart in the Italian ' in so far as the exterior at. least ' plan or elsewhere to the noble vistas ' is concerned, that Wren was forced ' presented to the eye in every direc- ' to modify his plans before com- ' tion by his plan. The western dome, ' mencing the erection.' If I under- ' ample as a vestibule, was sufficient stand him aright, Mr. Fergusson ' to raise the expectation but not to agrees with me as to the Latin cross. 'satisfy it; then the width confined I am tempted to insert some observa- ' to the ordinary nave, i.e. forming a tions of our accomplished architect, ' passage forty feet wide previous to Mr. Penrose, on Mr. Fergusson's ' the unrestricted burst of vision criticism of the first model. ' Fer- ' through the diagonal vistas, is analo- ' gusson rightly praises the interior ' gous to the sensation produced in a ' effect of this model, but ho hardly ' grand mountain defile, where one 'does it justice. The comparison of 'passes through a confined gorge ' Wren's design to Sangallo's is not ' from one fine opening to another in- ' fair to Wren. The skill, artistic ' comparably finer.' D D 2 404 FIRST STONE LAID. CHAP. Commission to proceed according to the design chosen , 1^ by the King in Council. ' The King, however,' writes the author of the ' Parentalia,' ' allowed the architect ' to make alterations in his design as he pleased, and most ' properly left the whole to his management/ 2 The architect himself had the honour of laying the first stone (June 21, 1675). There was no solemn ceremonial, neither the King nor any of the Court, nor the Primate, nor the Bishop (Henchman died in the course of that year) ; not even, it should seem, was Dean Sancroft, or the Lord Mayor, present. A curious incident, however, not long afterwards oc- curred, which was taken notice of by some people as a memorable omen. When the surveyor in person had set out upon the place the dimensions of the great dome, a common labourer was ordered to bring a flat stone from the heaps of rubbish (such as should first come to hand), to be laid for a mark and direction to the masons ; the stone which he immediately brought and laid down for the purpose, happened to be a piece of a gravestone, with nothing remaining of the inscription but this single word in large capitals, KESURGAM. 3 The removal of the ruins of the old Cathedral was a long and difficult process. Obstinate old S. Paul's would not surrender possession of the ground which it had occu- pied for so many centuries. The work had to be done by hard manual labour. Against the tower, the firmest part, Wren tried the novel experiment of blowing it up by gunpowder ; but the alarm caused by the first explosion, at the second, a fatal accident the loss of a life by the mismanagement of the persons employed threw him * There is in Elmes's Life of Wren Library, p. 317 et seq. & statement of these variations, as * Parentalia, p. 292. shown in the drawings in All Souls GKOUND ON WHICH S. PAUL'S STANDS. 405 back on the more tedious tools, the pickaxe and shovel. CHAP. He invented a sort of catapult or battering ram, with .- , 1 which he beat down the more solid walls. 4 Before the new edifice could begin to rise, the wise architect, after the scriptural monition, would carefully examine what was to be its foundation the hard rock or the shifting sand. The subject is even now of such in- calculable importance, as regards the proud boast of Wren that he was building for eternity, that it is my duty to enter upon it at some length. Wren must be heard him- self as to the result of his investigations. The discovery of the ancient cemetery under part of the foundations has been already described : 5 graves of several ages and fashions, in strata or layers of earth, one above another, ' from the British and Roman times.' But when searching for the natural ground below these graves, the Surveyor observed, 'that the foundation of the old church stood ' upon a layer of very close and hard pot- earth, and con- ' eluded that the same ground which had borne so ' weighty a building might reasonably be trusted again. ' However, he had the curiosity to search further, and * accordingly dug wells in several places, and discerned ' the hard pot-earth to be on the north side of the ' churchyard about six feet thick and more, but thinner ( and thinner towards the south, till it was, upon the de- ' clining of the hill, scarce four feet: still he searched ' lower, and found nothing but dry sand, mixed unequally, ' but loose, so that it would run through the fingers. He * went on, till he came to water and sand mixed with ' periwinkles and other sea shells. These were about the * level of low-water mark. He continued boring till he ' came to hard beach, and still under that, till he came to 4 There is a full description of the work in the ' Parentalia,' pp. 283-285. * See ante, pp. 4, 5. 406 FOUNDATION OF THE CATHEDKAL. CHAP. ' the natural hard clay, which lies under the city and XVII -, 1- ' countiy and Thames far and wide.' ' By these shells it was evident that the sea had been ' where the hill is on which S. Paul's stands.' On these grounds, Wren imagined a bold theory of a frith or bay, spreading from Camberwell hill to the Essex hills, which had left its memorial shells under the pot- earth, which had formed over it on the site of the Ca- thedral. Geology, which since Wren's days has advanced from a succession of fantastic theories to a science, refuses to accept Wren's daring hypothesis. However, this is not a mere speculative question, but one on which may rest the fate of S. Paul's. I submitted therefore the passage in the ' Parentalia ' to one of- the great masters in the science, my dear friend, Sir Charles Lyell. Sir Charles writes, ' that as Leonardo da Vinci was so much ahead in geo- ' logy in 1510, so probably Wren was ahead of Burnet 4 and Whiston ; ' yet though he excuses, Lyell decisively rejects, Wren's theory. Sir Charles, too, not only gave me the results of his own judgement, but obtained for me that of Mr. Prestwich, who has made the geology of London a special study. The conclusion is, that the shells, the sole apparent strength, but in fact the weakness, of Wren's theory, were not marine but fluviatile. In Wren's time conchology was very imperfectly known, the nice dis- crimination between the different classes of shells is quite of modern date. l As I supposed,' proceeds Sir C. Lyell, ' the pot-earth Mr. Prestwich takes to be the loam or ' brick-earth which often forms the upper part of that ' great bed of gravel which covers so large a part of what ' we term geologically, London clay. He thinks that all ' the beds which Wren describes belong to what we com- * monly call drift, which in this case is old fluviatile allu- SIR C. LYELL AND MR. PRESTWICH. 407 ' vium formed when the Thames was at a higher level, or * before the valley of the Thames was cut down to its ' present level above the sea. The periwinkles he im- * agines to have been fresh-water univalves, such as ' Lymnea ; in which case the conclusion drawn from them s by the great architect was erroneous, for although the ' London clay is a marine deposit, the overlying gravel, 4 sand and loam, is of fresh-water origin. ' Prestwich thinks the " hard beach " means gravel ; ' and the " natural hard clay " which underlies, is the * true " London clay." ' 6 The accompanying diagram shows Mr. Prestwich's views : BRICK EARTH OR LOAM OR POT-EARTH. CHAP. XVII. SfiND. m ;& 6 This is rather guess-work, espe- cially as we do not know what the shells were ; but five or six years ago they said was marine because of the shells, and these when examined turned out to be all of them fresh- a description was given of a deposit water, of the genera Unio Cyclas and at Clapton in the newspapers, which Lymnea. 408 ANOTHEE DIFFICULTY. CHAP. It is clear, at all events, that whatever its origin (of XVII _!_, '-s which, indeed, there can be no doubt), this layer of loose . sand underlies the firm pot-earth or loam which thins out towards the south. This cannot be too widely known, and the possible consequence of its oozing out cannot be too jealously watched. It fully justifies the apprehension of our late accomplished and scientific surveyor, Mr. R. Cockerell, who when a deep sewer was commenced on the south side of the Cathedral, came to the Dean in much alarm. On the representation of the Dean and Mr. Cockerell, the work was stopped by the authorities of the city. Even the digging of graves in the part of the crypt which be- longed to the parish of S. Faith (now happily at an end) was thought not altogether free from danger. In completing the foundations, "Wren was arrested by another unexpected difficulty. This must be described in his own words : ' In the progress of the works of the ' foundations, the surveyor met with one unexpected dif- ' ficulty ; he began to lay the foundations from the west * end, and had proceeded successfully through the dome 1 to the east end, where the brick-earth bottom was yet 1 very good ; but as he went on to the north-east corner, * which was the last, and where nothing was expected to * interrupt, he fell, in prosecuting the design, upon a ' pit, whence all the pot-earth has been robbed by the * potters of old times. Here were discovered quantities of ' urns, broken vessels, and pottery ware of divers sorts ' and shapes ; how far that part extended northwards ' there was no occasion to examine. . . . ' It was no little perplexity to fall into this pit at last. * He wanted but six or seven feet to complete the design, ' and this fell on the very angle north-east ; he knew very ' well that under the layer of pot-earth there was no ' other ground to be found till he came to the low-water FOUNDATION LAID. 409 * mark of the Thames, at least forty feet lower. His CHAP. XVII * artificers proposed to him to pile, which he refused; for r ' though piles may last for ever, when always in water ' (otherwise London Bridge would fall), yet if they are * driven through dry sand, though sometimes moist, they * will rot ; his endeavours were to build for eternity. He * therefore sunk a foot about eighteen feet square, wharf- ' ing up the sand with timber, till he came forty feet ' lower into water and sea-shells, where there was a fine ' beach, . . . ; he bored through the beach till he came to ' the original clay ; being then satisfied, he began from ' the beach a square pier of solid good masonry, ten feet ' square, till he came within fifteen feet of the present * ground, then he turned a short arch under ground to the ' former foundation, which was broken off by tne un- ' toward accident of the pit. Thus this north-east corner ' of the quire stands very firm, and no doubt will stand.' Wren must be heard again on the reasons for changing the site of the church, and taking up all the old founda- tions. They were chiefly these : ' First, the Act of Parlia- ' ment for rebuilding the City had enacted that all the 4 high streets (of which that which leads round the south * side of S. Paul's was one) should be forty feet wide, but ' the old foundations straitened the street towards the * east to under twenty feet. Secondly, the churchyard on { the north side was wider, and afforded room that way to * give the new fabric a more free and graceful aspect. ' Thirdly, to have built on the old foundations must have ' confined the surveyor too much to the old plan and form. . ' The ruinous walls in no part were to be trusted again, ' nor would the old and Hew work firmly unite or stand { together without cracks.' It being found therefore expedient to change the foun- dations, Wren took the advantage of more room north- 410 CATHEDRAL BEGUN. CHAP, ward, ' and laid the middle line of the new work more XVII , - ' declining to the north-east than it was before, which was ' not due east and west ; neither did the old front of the ' Cathedral lie directly from Ludgate as it does not at { present, which was not practicable, without purchasing ' and taking down a great number of houses, and the aid of ' Parliament.' This, though much wished for, he was not able to effect. The Commissioners for rebuilding the City had in the first place marked and staked out the streets, and the Parliament had confirmed their report, before anything had been folly determined about the design for the new fabric. ' The proprietors of the ground with much * eagerness and haste had begun to build accordingly ; an ' incredible progress had been made in a very short- time ; * many large and fair houses erected; and every foot of 1 ground in that trading and populous part of the town ' was highly estimated.' Thus was lost, it is to be feared for ever, the opportunity of placing the Cathedral of Lon- don on an esplanade worthy of its consummate design ; an esplanade which we might almost say, nature, by leaving a spacious level on the summit of the hill, had designated for a noble and commanding edifice. The foundation determined and laid, S. Paul's began to rise, and continued to rise, without check or interruption. The coal duty, on every change of sovereign or dynasty and Parliament, was paid, it should seem, without murmur or difficulty. The quarries of Portland supplied their excellent stone in abundance ; Wren might seem as if he ruled over the vassal island ; 7 roads were made to convey the stone with the greatest facility to the port. An admi- rable and obedient regiment of masons and workmen was organised. Strong, his master mason, assisted in laying the 7 See the Royal Proclamation in Elmes, p. 269, note. THE REVOLUTION. 411 . first stone and in fixing the last in the lantern. S. Paul's CHAP. XVII arose, and the architect pursued his work undisturbed by < - the great political changes which gave a new line of kings to the throne of England, and perfected our Constitution. For during the period in which S. Paul's was thus rapidly lifting itself up, as might be said, from its ashes (two and twenty years only elapsed from the laying the first stone to the opening of the choir for divine service), great events in the history of England the greatest perhaps in her Constitutional history had taken place. It was almost boasted that as the new Cathedral was built by one architect, so it rose during the episcopate of one Bishop, Henry Compton. Bishop Henchman died, October 1675, the year in which the first stone was laid. On the approach of the Revolution, during and after the Revolution, none held so perilous and difficult a posi- tion as the Bishop of London, no one took a more bold and resolute part than that Bishop, Henry Compton. Compton was not famous for intense piety or profound learning, but was a fine example of the high-born, high- minded Prelate, who, blameless in life, sustained the au- thority of his office with simple dignity, performed all its duties with quiet industry, trod his arduous path not without prudence but with conscientious courage, never wantonly defying, but encountering the King's aggres- sions with resolute firmness. Evelyn describes him in one passage, as by no means a powerful preacher ; in another, he writes, ' The Bishop had been a soldier, and had also ' travelled in Italy, and became a most sober, grave, and ' excellent prelate.' 8 No higher testimony can be given than that of the wise, pious, loyal Evelyn. Though not eloquent, Compton was specially active in preaching and 8 Evelyn's Memoirs, vol. ii. pp. 83 and 108. 412 BISHOP COMPTON. CHAP, confirming throughout his diocese. Compton was the -^ , youngest son of the Earl of Northampton, a most faithful subject of the Stuart kings, who had died on the field of Hopton Heath, fighting bravely, refusing to give or to receive quarter. Henry Compton had served in the Guards, and something of his old martial spirit, as will appear, flashed back upon the Bishop in one of his adventures during these stirring times. Compton had been entrusted with the religious education of the two princesses, the daughters of James, then Duke of Tork. Mary might do honour to the best and wisest of Christian teachers ; the religion of Anne could not but partake of the feebleness of her character. Over both Compton retained a powerful influence. Compton, as Bishop of London, was heard with favour and respect in the House of Lords. 9 The Bishop of London voted, one of three Bishops, for the Exclusion Bill. He seconded the famous opposition speech of the Earl of Devonshire. At the close of that speech he de- clared that he expressed the sense of the Episcopal Bench, that in their opinion, and in his own, the civil and eccle- siastical Constitution was in danger. 1 For this offence he was dismissed from the office of Dean of the Chapel Royal, usually attached to the see of London ; his name was erased from the list of Privy Councillors. Compton was not daunted ; he refused in respectful (our great historian holds in too obsequious) terms to comply with the royal order for the suspension of Dr. Sharp, for a sermon against the Church of Rome. Compton was summoned before the Court of High Commission, re-established only by the royal authority to suppress the dangerous spirit of resist- ance among the Clergy. At the head of the Commission sate Jeffries, Lord Chancellor. The Bishop obeyed the Birch's Life of Tttlotson, p. 33. ' Macaulay, vol. ii. pp. 32, 33. COMPTON SUSPENDED. 413 summons. Jeffries, with, impartial insolence, treated the CHAP, high-born prelate with as little respect as the humblest .._. t ._ curate. ( I demand of you a direct and positive answer. ' Why did you not suspend Dr. Sharp ? ' The Bishop requested a copy of the Commission. ' If you mean,' said Jeffries, 'to dispute our authority, I shall take another ' course with you. At all events, you may see it in any ' coffee-house for a penny.' The insolence of the Chan- cellor's reply seems to have shocked the other Commis- sioners, however servile. Jeffries reiterated his plain de- mand. ' Why did you not obey the King ? ' Compton with difficulty obtained a brief delay and the assistance of counsel. When the case was argued, the Court was divided. The King compelled Lord Eochester to vote for the guilt of the Bishop. ' Compton was suspended from all spiritual ' functions, and the charge of his great diocese was com- ' mitted to his judges Sprat and Crew. He continued, how- * ever, to reside in his palace, and to receive his revenues ; ' for it was known that, had any attempt been made to ' deprive him of his temporalities, he would have put him- ' self under the protection of the Common Law. The Chief ' Justice Herbert himself declared that a Common Law ' judgement must be given against the Crown.' 2 At the great crisis, when the seven Bishops were sent to the Tower, Compton, being under suspension, was not called into the King's presence; he shared neither the imprisonment nor the triumph of Sancroft and his six suffraga,ns. But Compton took a bolder step. His old hereditary loyalty to the House of Stuart yielded to his indignation at the now hardly disguised designs of the King against the civil and religious liberties of England. He signed, * Macauky, vol. ii. pp. 96, 97. 414 FLIGHT OF PEINCESS ANNE. CHAP, the one Prelate, with six other noble names, the invitation , '... to the Prince of Orange. When charged with this act by the King, it cannot be denied that he stooped to equivocation. He dared not avow, he could not deny, his glaring criminality. He eluded the question by an am- biguous phrase. The King was too angry, too dull, or did not choose to detect the ambiguity. As affairs came to their close, no doubt the influence of Compton deter- mined his younger pupil, the Princess Anne, to the desertion of her father. In her flight from Whitehall, her hackney-coach was guarded by the Earl of Dorset and the Bishop of London. She passed the night in the Bishop's palace in Aldersgate Street. The next morning they rode to the Earl of Dorset's seat in Epping Forest. But she was not safe there. They might be intercepted if they attempted to join the Prince of Orange at Salis- bury. They were forced to take refuge with the Northern Insurgents. It is said that the Princess rode on a pillion behind the Bishop. Even the more decent and true account represents the Bishop as having thrown off his episcopal attire, and resumed that of his youth in the Life Guards. He rode before the carriage in a buff coat and jack boots, with a sword by his side and pistols in his holsters. Arrived at Nottingham, the Bishop consented to act as colonel of the troop of gentlemen who mustered around the Princess. None of this was lost upon the ballad- makers and caricaturists of the day. On the entry of William into London, Bishop Compton appeared in his more becoming state at the head of the London clergy, who were followed by a hundred of the Nonconformist ministers, to welcome the Deliverer. It was observed that Compton treated the Nonconformists with marked courtesy. And afterwards, when the Com- prehension Bill, which unhappily, but inevitably, fell SANCKOFT. 415 through, was under discussion, it was supported by Comp- CHAP, ton with all his energy. .,_ t 1 The Bishop of London had the, to him, proud duty of crowning King William and Queen Mary. He was virtual Primate. Sancroffc, the Archbishop, had repented of his energy and his virtue. Sancroft was still Dean of S. Paul's when the first stone of the new Cathedral was laid (1675) ; two years after he was advanced to the Primacy. I have very high respect for Bancroft's conduct during and after the Fire, his prudence and munificence. As Arch- bishop, he stands out so nobly, firm but respectful, before the King's presence, with so much dignity, in the barge which conveyed him to the Tower, and in his ovation when released from the Tower, that I would willingly drop a veil over the almost despicable close of his career. After much strange feeble wavering about the succession to the throne, he had at length been deprived of the Pri- macy. Then came a pitiful struggle to remain at Lambeth, a struggle without the vigour of resistance or the dignity of submission. He retired to an ample estate in Suffolk, the feeble obstinate petulance of his later days still sadly contrasting with his useful labours as Dean of S. Paul's and his one great act as Primate. He would not admit to his presence, he would not permit prayer to be made, or the Sacrament to be administered in his house, by a clergyman who had taken the oaths. He died the saint of a small schism, which he attempted to perpetuate ; a schism which not even the heavenly piety of Ken, the high moral tone and historical industry of Collier, or the real learning of Dodwell could preserve from insignifi- cance. Sancroft himself has left nothing, as a Dean or as an author, to save him from oblivion. His one work, if it was his (which is more than doubtful), ' The Fur ' Predestinatus,' is in my judgement much overrated ; it is 416 TILLOTSON, AKCHBISHOP. CHAP, heavy and laboured ; it wants the easy, exquisite wit of . 1- Erasmus, the broader and more truculent satire of Ulrich Hutten. The claims of the Bishop of London to the vacant Primacy might seem irresistible. He had been preceptor to the Queen and to her sister. He had borne the whole brunt of the battle ; he had been the first to resist the ecclesiastical encroachments of the King. Compton had voted for the Exclusion Bill; he had corresponded with the Prince of Orange; he had signed (the one single Prelate) the invitation to the Prince; he had exercised the great function of the Primate at the Coronation of the King and Queen. To Compton's bitter disappointment, the Dean of his own Church was advanced over his head. The Primacy was almost forced on the unambitious Tillotson. 3 Yet, no doubt, the Government judged wisely; and there were few, except Compton, whose judgement was of weight, who did not acquiesce in the wisdom of their choice. It was not the time to make the Primacy the guerdon of a stirring politician. Tillotson had every . qualification wanting to Compton. He was a man of acknowledged learning ; he was the most popular preacher of his day. He was endeared to the Whigs by his con- nection with the martyr of their party. He had attended Lord Russell at his death; he had been the comforter, the spiritual adviser, of his incomparable wife. No one could fulfil more entirely the apostolic precept, ' Let your moderation be known unto all men.' 4 The Deans of S. Paul's, during this eventful period, and to the close of the century, were men of the greatest 8 Lord Macaulay in his vivid nar-: Paul's. rative describes Tillotson as a priest 4 Compton was not unforgiving. in Compton's diocese. Tillotson The intercourse between him and had been for many years Dean of Tillotson at Lambeth was friendly. Canterbury, and was now Dean of S. Birch's Life of Tillotson, p. 267. STILLINGFLEET. 417 eminence in the Church : Stillingfleet, Tillotson, William CHAP. Sherlock. Of these, in wide and profound theological ^_ J_ learning Edward Stillingfleet stood the highest. None had held a more firm and even way, none was more pure and blameless in life, or more zealous in his ministerial labours. Stillingfleet commenced his career with his ' Irenicon,' for a young man of twenty-four a work of surpassing power and erudition. The 'Irenicon' was a bold and singularly skilful attempt to reconcile the two dangerously conflicting parties in the Church. It ac- knowledged the Apostolic, but not the Divine and indefeasible authority of Episcopacy. He did not hold it to be an integral and indispensable part of Chris- tianity. Stillingfleet himself had lived in the family of Pierpoint, perhaps the wisest and most generally re- spected of the Parliamentary leaders. Yet Stillingfleet received his orders from Brownrig, the ejected Bishop of Exeter. After the Restoration, Stillingfleet, though he took a somewhat higher tone, and departed, to some ex- tent, from his wider views, did not, like others, rush into the opposite extreme. He favoured every proposal for general comprehension. On the promotion of Sancroft to the Primacy, Stillingfleet, then Rector of S. Andrew's, Holborn, became Dean of S. Paul's and Archdeacon of London. As the Revolution approached, Stillingfleet was among that distinguished body of churchmen, the London Clergy, who had in their pulpits fairly disputed the popular mind with the most influential of the Non- conformists. They stood on their more correct learning, their eloquence, and activity above the general level of the clergy, and presented a calm but firm resistance to the encroachments of the Crown. As Dean of S. Paul's, 5 Stillingfleet was silent ; S. Paul's was hardly yet above * Lord Macaulay forgot this. Compare Macaulay, vol. i. p. 332. E E 418 STILLINGFLEET'S LEARNING. CHAP, ground; it was as Rector of S. Andrew's, Holborn, that 1 T . x his voice was heard, in harmony with all his more power- ful brethren. In the great crisis, when so much de- pended on the London Clergy, Stillingfleet, as Dean of S. Paul's, and Tillotson, as Dean of Canterbury, followed Fowler, the Eector of S. Giles, in the peremptory refusal to read the Royal Declaration. One of the first acts of William and Mary's reign was the advancement of Stil- lingfleet to the Bishopric of Worcester. On the vacancy of the Archbishopric, Tillotson, from sincere modesty, and reluctance to undertake that high but perilous office, thinking perhaps that many of the Clergy (the High Church Clergy, who suspected, envied, or hated him) might be overawed by the high reputation of Stillingfleet for learning and for controversial power, strongly urged his appointment to the Primacy. In the controversies of the day, especially in the vital controversies with Rome, none surpassed, very few came near to Stillingfleet. He had the honour, with Tillotson, of being one of the two of the English Clergy, whom James II., when he chal- lenged the English Church to dispute with his Roman Catholic champions, forbade to enter the lists. 6 Stillingfleet's controversial writings (for even the in- extinguishable controversy with Rome inevitably takes a new form and fashion of argument) rest on the upper shelves of our libraries. So, too, his learned volumes, his c Origines Sacrse,' long held a standard work, and his ' Antiquities of the British Church,' remain in undis- turbed repose. Learning, like everything else in this mutable world, advances. The new views which history has taken of primeval times, the vast expansion in know- ledge of the languages and the religions of the East, of Macaulay, vol. ii. p. 149. James had an especial reason for his aversion to Stillingfleet. TILLOTSON, DEAN. 419 the old world in general, have left Stillingfleet far behind. CHAP. Historical enquiry, more bold and more fastidious as to , testimony, has relegated much of his antiquarian lore into the realm of legend. Yet no one will refuse the highest respect to the name of Stillingfleet. In his old age, the Bishop of Worcester advanced fearlessly, and with full confidence in his own powers, to arrest the triumphant advance of Locke now rapidly rising almost to an au- tocracy in the philosophy of the mind. Stillingfleet had a strong presentiment, if not a distinct foresight, how fatal that philosophy would be to some of the meta- physical theories, and to much of the language, dominant in the old theology. Those who have led the later reaction against Locke would hardly acknowledge Stillingfleet as their champion. But few who have patience to investigate the lengthy strife, will withhold their respect from him ; and Locke himself, by his long and elaborate replies, showed that he held the Bishop of Worcester as no un- worthy antagonist. John Tillotson held the Deanery of S. Paul's, with a residentiary ship, for so short a period (Nov. 19, 1689, to June 12, 1691), and that in the abeyance of the Cathedral services, that I am compelled to express, only in limited space, my great veneration for his character ; a character, as I think, nearly blameless; and for his beneficial in- fluence, as almost the father of true religious toleration.. The fame of Tillotson as a divine, and as a writer of English prose, has long been on the wane, yet in both. Tillotson made an epoch. For a long period religion in England had been a conflict of passions. The passion of Puritanism had triumphed, but its triumph had led to anarchy. The High Church passion then, was in the ascendant, and in its vengeance was striving to trample out the undying embers of Puritanism ; and both these 420 TILLOTSOX'S KELIGION. CHAP, old antagonists were vying with each other in mortal strife , '-> with the passion of invading Romanism. Worse than all, there was a passion, dominant in the Court of Charles II., for the most reckless profligacy, which, long prevalent in practice, had now begun to form itself into a theory hostile to all religion. Tillotson seated himself unimpassioned, and with perfect self-possession, in the midst of all this fray. He did not absolutely decline all controversy (one, indeed, was inevitable). Distinct, unhesitating, unwaver- ing in his repudiation of all Roman tenets, Tillotson main- tained even towards Rome a calm, grave, argumentative tone, unusual in those times. Tillotson had the ambition of establishing in the weary, worn-out, distracted, perplexed mind and heart of England a Christianity of calm reason, of plain, practical English good sense. It was a pious, a noble attempt, and met with only partial success ; success perhaps greater after his death than during his lifetime. Success he must undoubtedly have met with, for in his day no preacher was so popular as Tillotson. But beyond the sphere of his immediate influence, the Court, which now assumed a character of dignified decency, in Queen Mary might seem to display the high ideal of Tillotson's Chris- tianity. . The Dutch Calvinism of William, who was fully occupied in war and state affairs, was quiescent and un- obtrusive. The High Church passions, if tamed and quelled to, a certain extent, did not repress altogether their sullen animosity. To some, Tillotson profoundly religious, un- impeachable as to his belief in all the great truths of Christianity, but looking to the fruits rather than the dogmas of the Gospel guilty of candour, of hearing both sides of a question and dwelling, if not exclusively at least chiefly, on the Christian life, the sober unexcited Christian life was Arian, Socinian, Deist, Atheist. The prose of Tillotson, as well as his religion, made an PROSE OF TILLOTSON. 421 epoch. Dryden, the great model, as he has been called, of CHAP. English, avowedly formed himself on Tillotson. It must ^ T 1, be remembered that Hooker and Bacon had passed away. The churchmen of the school of Andrews, with their dry scholasticism, enlivened only by frigid conceits and in- congruous images, and by heavy wit ; where the mean- ing vainly struggled through clouds of words ; their long Latin and Greek citations, so that it was doubtful what language would furnish the next sentence ; the Puritans with their half-biblical, ponderous pages (of course there were noble exceptions, passages of the loftiest masculine English) ; these writers had worn out the mind of the reader, as well as their jarring opinions, too often the faith of the believer. There was as complete anarchy in the prose as in the religion of the land ; and so the calm, equable, harmonious, idiomatic sentences of Tillotson, his plain practical theology, fell as a grateful relief upon the English ear and heart. 7 To us the prolix, and at times languid, diffuseness of Tillotson is wearisome. To my judgement the sustained vigour and inexhaustible copious- ness of Barrow is much more congenial ; but Tillotson must be taken with his age ; and if we can throw our- selves back upon his age, we shall comprehend the mastery which he held, for a century at least, over the religion and over the literature of the country. Assuredly no appointment in the English Church ever made such an uproar as that of William Sherlock to the 7 I was much surprised to find a passion for accounting, on preten- very brilliant French writer, M.Henri tious philosophical grounds, for the Taine, express his special admiration idiosyncrasies of every author no one of two great writers, one a poet and being admitted as a man of genius, the other a prosaist, whom I should but only as a link in the chain of un- have supposed least congenial to broken fatality) might be commended the French mind ; the poet was as the best view of the subject in Spenser, the writer of prose, Tillot- a foreign language. M. Taine has a son. His work on English Litera- chapter on Tillotson well worthy of ture (if he had but avoided that fatal perusal. 422 WILLIAM SHERLOCK, DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S. CHAP. Deanery of S. Paul's. Sherlock had been the oracle, the xvn. 1, '-^ pride, the trust of that party, which even by this time had assumed the title of Nonjurors, men whom no per- suasion, no motive of interest, no prospect of advance- ment in the Church, could induce to take the oaths to William and Mary, even though now in fact the ruling sovereigns of England. It would be presumption to relate this curious incident in the annals of S. Paul's, in other words than those of Macaulay ; yet these words must be much curtailed. * In consequence of the elevation of Tillotson to the ' See of Canterbury, the Deanery of S. Paul's became ' vacant. As soon as the name of the new Dean was ' known, a clamour broke forth such as perhaps no ec- ' clesiastical appointment has ever produced. A clamour ' made up of yells of hatred, of hisses of contempt, and ' of shouts of triumphant and half-exulting welcome : for ' the new Dean was William Sherlock. ' The story of his conversion deserves to be fully told : ' for it throws great light on the character of the parties ' which then divided the Church and the State. Sherlock ' was, in influence and reputation, though not in rank, the ' foremost man among the Nonjurors. His authority and * example had induced some of his brethren, who had at * first wavered, to resign their benefices. The day of sus- * pension came, and still he was firm. He seemed to have * found, in the consciousness of rectitude, and in medita- ' tion on the invisible world, ample compensation for all ' his losses. While excluded from the pulpit, where his ' eloquence had once delighted the learned and polite in- ' mates of the Temple, he wrote that celebrated " Treatise ' on Death " which, during many years, stood next to the * " Whole Duty of Man " in the bookcases of serious Ar- * minians. Soon, however, it began to be suspected that his SHERLOCK RECANTS. 423 ' resolution was giving way. He declared that he would CHAP. * be no party to a schism : he advised those who sought his T 1 ' counsel not to leave their parish churches : nay, finding ' that the law which had ejected him from his cure did not ' interdict him from performing divine service, he officiated ' at S. Dunstan's, and there prayed for King William and * Queen Mary. The apostolical injunction, he said, was ' that prayers should be made for all in authority ; and ' William and Mary were plainly in authority.' The objections of his friends seemed unanswerable, till a passage in a book written by one who had once been Dean of S. Paul's found him an unexpected excuse. San- croft, to injure the Government, had published Overall's Convocation Book. ' The book, indeed, condemned all ' resistance in terms as strong as he could himself have f used : but one passage, which had escaped his notice, ' was decisive against himself and his fellow-schismatics. ' Overall, and the two Convocations which had given their ' sanction to Overall's teaching, pronounced that a govern - ' meni, which had originated in rebellion, ought, when ' thoroughly settled, to be considered as ordained by God, * and to be obeyed by Christian men. Sherlock read, and * was convinced. His venerable Mother, the Church, had ' spoken ; and he, with the docility of a child, accepted her ' decree. The government which had sprung from the ' Revolution might, at least since the battle of the Boyne ' and the flight of James from Ireland, be fairly called a * settled government, and ought therefore to be passively * obeyed till it should be subverted by another revolution ' and succeeded by another settled government. ' Sherlock took the oaths, and speedily published, in jus- ' tifi cation of his conduct, a pamphlet entitled "The Case 4 of Allegiance to Sovereign Powers stated." The sensa- ' uion produced by this work was immense. .Dryden's 424 MACAULAY. CHAP, ' " Hind and Panther " had not raised so great an uproar. XVII. s > ' Halifax's " Letter to a Dissenter " had not called forth so ' many answers. The replies to the Doctor, the vindica- * tions of the Doctor, the pasquinades on the Doctor, would ' fill a library. The clamour redoubled when it was known ' that the convert had not only been reappointed Master of * the Temple, but had accepted the Deanery of S. Paul's. . . . ' The rage of the Conjurors amounted almost to frenzy.' (I omit a long passage.) 1 The history of the chosen people was ransacked for * precedents. Was Eglon's a settled government when ' Ehud stabbed him ? Was Joram's a settled government ' when Jehu shot him ? But the leading case was that of * Athaliah. It was a case which, indeed, furnished the ' malcontents with many happy and pungent allusions ; ' a kingdom treacherously seized by an usurper near in ' blood to the throne ; the rightful prince long dispos- '' sessed ; a part of the sacerdotal order true, through ' many disastrous years, to the Royal House ; a counter- ' revolution at length effected by the High Priest at the * head of the Levites. Who, it was asked, would dare to * blame the heroic pontiff who had restored the line of * David? Yet was not the government of Athaliah as ' firmly settled as that of the Prince of Orange ? Hun- ' dreds of pages written at this time about the rights of 4 Joash and the bold enterprise of Jehoiada are moulder- * ing in the ancient bookcases of Oxford and Cambridge. ' While Sherlock was thus fiercely attacked by his old * friends, he was not left unmolested by his old enemies. * Some vehement Whigs, among whom Julian Johnson was * conspicuous, declared that Jacobitism itself was respect- ' able when compared with the vile doctrine which had * been displayed in the Convocation Book. PAMPHLETS AND BALLADS. 425 ' The popular belief, however (this, probably, was the CHAP. ' most galling to the Dean), was that his retractation was , - ' the effect of the tears, expostulations, and reproaches of * his wife. The lady's spirit was high ; her authority ' in the family was great ; and she cared much more 4 about her house and her carriage, the plenty of her table ' and the prospects of her children, than about the patri- archal origin of government or the meaning of the word * Abdication. She had, it was said, given her husband no * peace by day or by night till he had got over his scruples. 1 In letters, fables, songs, dialogues without number, her * powers of seduction and intimidation were malignantly ' extolled. She was Xanthippe pouring water on the head 1 of Socrates. She was Dalilah shearing Samson. She ' was Eve forcing the forbidden fruit into Adam's mouth. 4 She was Job's wife, imploring her ruined lord, who sate 1 scraping himself among the ashes, not to curse and die, 1 but to swear and live. While the ballad-makers cele- 4 brated the victory of Mrs. Sherlock, another class of as- * sailants fell on the theological reputation of her spouse. ' Till he took the oaths, he had always been considered ' as the most orthodox of divines. But the captious and * malignant criticisms to which his writings were now ' subjected would have found heresy in the Sermon on the ' Mount ; and he, unfortunately, was rash enough to pub- * lish, at the very moment when the outcry against his * political tergiversation was loudest, his thoughts on * the mystery of the Trinity.' 8 Sherlock's aim was an innocent one to show against the Socinians, now be- coming bold and powerful, that by a new terminology this abstruse doctrine might be reconciled with reason. But Sherlock wanted the sagacity to know the jealous * Macaulay, vol. iv. pp. 44-50. 426 SHEELOCK ON THE TEINITY. sensitiveness, which, would not allow this doctrine in any CTTAP xvil way ^ ke tampered with or even approached. To the ' ' popular mind, including by far the larger part of the Clergy, the old-established phraseology was as sacred and divine as the doctrine itself. There was lying in wait, too, a terrible antagonist. South, whose free, bold censures, or rather his satire against the vices of the Court, had been endured for their inimitable brilliancy and wit, and for their cutting sentences against Republicans and Puritans, had indeed conformed, and had withdrawn into retire- ment. No Nonjuror could more bitterly hate the apos- tasy, no Whig so haughtily despise the tergiversation, of Sherlock. Perhaps may have been added to this the indignation of a Churchman that the best things and the highest honours of the Church should fall to a renegade. South did not spring openly upon his foe ; he wrote anonymously, but no one could doubt for a moment from what hand those sharp and bitter arrows were launched. There was probably no other divine who could have fur- nished the almost scholastic acuteness and subtlety of their theology. Swift alone (but Swift was not yet) could have contributed the malignity and wit. The dedication of one, the title of the other, of these damaging and rancorous quarto tracts, may show their spirit. The first was ' humbly 4 offered to the admirers of Dr. Sherlock, and to himself, ' the chief of them.' The second bore the alarming title, 'Tritheism charged upon Dr. Sherlock's new notion of ' the Trinity.' Sherlock made a gallant defence. How far his enemies were silenced may appear from one sarcasm which flew wide and far : * No wonder that the Doctor ' can swear allegiance to more than one King, when he ' can swear to more than one God.' Sherlock, however, survived the reproach of his tergi- versation, the impeachment of his orthodoxy. He remained S. PAUL'S OPENED FOE DIVINE SERVICE. 427 Dean of S. Paul's till far into the reign of Queen Anne. CHAP. Mrs. Sherlock, it may be presumed, exercised to her satis- -- , faction the hospitality of the Deanery, which had been rebuilt on the old site by Sir Christopher Wren, but shorn of much of its pleasant garden stretching towards the river, which was portioned off on building leases to defray the cost of the new house. Sherlock no doubt was present, though not bearing the principal part in the august ceremony, when, on December 2, 1697, twenty-two years after the laying of the first stone, ,the Cathedral of S. Paul was opened for divine service. It was a great national pomp to commemorate an event of the highest national importance, the thanksgiving day for the Peace of Kyswick. It was an event, not only of importance to England, but to Europe, to Christendom. The Peace of By s wick ratified the enforced recognition of the title of William III. to the throne of England, by his haughty, now humbled foe, the magnificent Louis XIV. It admitted, in the face of the world, the right of England to determine her own Constitution, to obey a sovereign whose title rested on that Constitution. It admitted the right of England to determine her own religion, and the absolute independence of the Church of England of all foreign authority. . It was a glorious day for England, a glorious day for London, especially a glorious day for Compton, Bishop of London. It had been proposed that the King (Queen Mary had, unhappily, not lived to witness and to share her husband's triumph) should in person attend this cere- mony. He was himself anxious to be present. But it was said, that at least 300,000 jubilant people from all quarters would so throng the metropolis, that the King could only with extreme difficulty make his way to the Cathedral. The city authorities appeared in all their .428 BISHOP COMPTON'S SEEMON. CHAP, state and poinp. Bishop Compton took his seat on his r, ' throne, that throne, with the whole of the choir, rich with the exquisite carvings of Grinling Gibbons. For the first time the new organ pealed out its glorious volume of sound. 9 The Bishop preached the Thanksgiving Ser- mon. He took for his text that noble song, ' I was glad > ' when they said unto me, let us go up into the House of ' the Lord.' He doubtless reminded his hearers that, be- sides the debt of gratitude which in common with all Englishmen they owed to the Almighty for the glorious close of the war, 'as Londoners it became them to be * specially thankful to the divine goodness, which had per- * mitted them to efface the last vestiges of the Great Fire, 1 and to assemble for prayer and praise in that spot conse- ' crated by the devotions of thirty generations.' 1 It was a glorious day for Compton ; and might almost have con- soled him for his disappointment about Canterbury. Since that time the services have gone on uninterrup- tedly in Wren's S. Paul's. Bishop Compton took the lead in the affairs of the Cathedral. The services, as to their hours and their order, have always been conducted according to the Orders then issued by Bishop Compton. Nor were services of special thanksgiving at an end. Queen Anne year after year went in solemn procession to the Cathedral of the metropolis to commemorate glorious victories. Seven times she fulfilled this welcome duty; the eighth she was only prevented by increasing bodily in- firmity. At the first, at least, of these august ceremonies Bishop Compton was on his throne. It was in the first year of Queen Anne's reign. Anne ascended the throne of Eng- land March 2, 1702 ; on November 12 was the jubilant pro- This must have been a temporary 1694, but not erected till 1700. instrument. The actual organ, by Dugdale, p. 392, note, Bernard Smith, was contracted for in J Macaulay. QUEEN ANNE AT S. PAUL'S. 429 cession to S. Paul's, for the successes of Joan Earl of Marl- CHAP. borough in the Low Countries, and for the destruction of the < Spanish fleet in the port of Yigo by the Duke of Ormond and Sir George Rooke ; ' burning,' so said the Proclama- tion, * sinking, and taking many ships of war, and great * riches, of their enemies.' The Council declared that the Cathedral being for that day the Queen's Chapel Eoyal, the seats were to be disposed of and all the arrangements made by the Lord Chamberlain. The Queen's throne was ' exactly as in the House of Lords,' about three feet higher than the floor of the choir, covered with a Persian carpet, and a canopy upheld by iron rods fastened to the organ- loft above, fifteen feet high ; ( with an armed chair on the ' throne, with a fald-stool before it, and a desk for the ' Queen's book, covered with crimson velvet, richly em- ' broidered and fringed with gold, with a cushion thereon t of the same. Some distance behind were stools for the ' Countess of Marlborough, Groom of the Stole, the Coun- ' tess of Sunderland, Lady of the Bedchamber in waiting. 1 Farther behind stood the Vice-Chamberlain, with other ' officers of state.' So ran the Proclamation. The two Houses of Parliament determined to assist at the cere- mony. The Lords resolved to sit in the area or body of the choir as a House of Lords. The Commons were to be called over ; the Speaker to sit on the seat where the Lord Bishop of London was used to sit, in the middle of the south side of the choir, with the Serjeant-at-Anns and officers just under him, the members in the stalls and galleries on each side. The Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriff's sat in the furthermost lower galleries towards the altar ; their ladies had their appointed seats. The foreign ministers and their ladies in the middle gallery on the north side. The Bishop of London, Compton, sat on his throne in the south-east end of the choir. The Dean and 430 PEOCESSIONS. CHAP. Prebendaries on chairs within the rails of the altar. The XVII '^ choirs of the Queen's Chapel Royal and their music in the upper gaUeries on each side of the organ. In the procession to the Cathedral the House of Com- mons led the way. At eight o'clock they proceeded to the palace at S. James's, then along Pall Mall, and so to the Cathedral, where they took their places. The Lords met at ten. The procession formed, preceded by the officers of the House, masters in chancery, judges, peers under age, then barons, bishops, viscounts, earls, dukes ; then the great officers of state, the archbishops, and Sir Nathan Wright, Keeper of the Great Seal. They, too, went on to the Cathedral and took their seats. All the while till the arrival of the Queen the organ continued playing voluntaries. At 11 the Queen took coach at S. James's; at Temple Bar she was received by the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, and Aldermen on horseback. The Lord Mayor surrendered the sword with a short speech. The Queen returned it, and the Lord Mayor bore it before her to the church. On her arrival at the West door the Queen was met by the peers and principal officers of state, and conducted up the nave to her throne. She knelt at her fald-stool, and after a short ' ejaculation ' rose and seated herself. The music ceased. Dr. Stanley, a resi- dentiary, read the first service. After which the Te Deum was sung, with vocal and instrumental music. The old Whig Bishop of Exeter, Sir Jonathan Trelawney, preached an ' excellent ' sermon on Joshua vii. 9 : ' But as for you, ' no man hath been able to stand before you this day.' It lasted about half an hour ; then the anthem, prayers, benediction, no doubt from Compton. The Queen led the way back. The Tower guns, those on the river, and those in S. James's Park, were fired three times : once as the Queen left S. James's, the second time when the BLENHEIM AND OTHER VICTOEIES. 431 Te Deuin was chanted, the last on the Queen's return to CHAP. S. James's. J^L Such was the model and precedent for royal processions and for royal receptions at S. Paul's. In the reign of Queen Anne they were repeated with glorious frequency. The second was to celebrate the victory of Blenheim, September 7, 1704. Parliament was not sitting. But the Peers, Privy Counsellors, and great officers of State were in attendance. There was a full service with the pre- communion. The sermon was preached by the Dean of S. Paul's (Sherlock) ; Psalm Iviii. 2, ' Doubtless there is a * God that judgeth the earth.' Again, August 27, 1705, the Queen commemorated the forcing of the French lines at Tirlemont by the Duke of Marlborough ; the sermon was by Dr. Willis, Dean of Lincoln. Again, July 1, 1706, for the battle of Eamilies and Lord Peterborough's successes in Catalonia ; Stan- hope, Dean of Canterbury, preached. Again, in 1706-7, January 1, for great and wonderful successes, and in May, 1707, the Bishops of Salisbury and Oxford preached. Again, in 1708 (August 23), for the battle of Oudenarde ; preacher, Bishop of S. Asaph. On July 7, 1713, was the thanksgiving for the Peace of Utrecht. Both Houses of Parliament attended in full state. The Queen signified her pleasure not to go to S. Paul's, but designed to return thanks to God for peace in her own closet. On this day was the first spectacle of the Charity Chil- dren in the streets, not yet in the Cathedral. They were said to be 4,000 in number, and to occupy a space of 620 feet, eight rows, one behind the other. Before this last great festival, about three years, the exterior of the Cathedral was adjudged to be complete. It stood with its perfect dome and encircling colonnades, its galleries and ball, and surmounting cross. In the year 432 LAYING THE LAST STONE. CHAP. 1710, Sir Christopher Wren, by the hands of his son, _!_, L- attended by Mr. Strong, the master mason who had exe- cuted the whole work, and the body of Freemasons, of which Sir Christopher was an active member, laid the last and highest stone of the lantern of the cupola, with / humble prayers for the Divine blessing on his work. 2 If ever there was an occasion on which the heart of man might swell with pardonable pride, it was the heart .of Wren at that hour, whether he himself was actually at the giddy summit of the building, or wa,tched his son's act from below. The architect looked down, or looked up and around, on this great and matchless building, the creation of his own mind, the achievement of his sole care and skill. The whole building stretching out in all its per- fect harmony, with its fine horizontal lines, various yet in perfect unison, its towers, its unrivalled dome, its crown- ing lantern and cross. All London had poured forth for the spectacle, which had been publicly announced, and were looking up in wonder to the old man, or his son if not the old man himself, who was, on that wondrous height, setting the seal, as it were, to his august labours. If in that wide circle {let us, however doubtful, lift the old man to that proud eminence), which his eye might embrace, there were various objects for regret and disappointment ; if instead of beholding the spacious streets of the city, each converging to its centre, London had sprung up and spread in irregular labyrinths of close, dark, intricate lanes ; if even his own Cathedral was crowded upon and jostled by mean and unworthy buildings ; yet, on the other hand, he might survey, not the Cathedral only, but a number of stately churches, which had risen at his com- mand and taken form and dignity from his genius and 2 In the "Wren MS. there is a sen- perhaps too much for his advanced tonce which implies the presence of age. Elmes, p. 493. Wren himself at that giddy height, S. PAUL'S. FROM THE RIVER. CHUKCHES OP LONDON. 433 skill. On one side the picturesque steeple of S. Mary-le- CHAP. Bow, on the other the exquisite tower of S. Bride's, with ^_ . '_. all its graceful gradually diminishing circles, not yet shorn of its fall and finely proportioned height. Beyond and on all sides, if more dimly seen, yet discernible by his partial eyesight (he might even penetrate to the inimitable interior of S. Stephen's, Walbrook), church after church, as far as S. Dunstan-in-the-East, perhaps Greenwich may have been vaguely made out in the remote distance. And all this one man had been permitted to conceive and execute ; a man not originally destined or educated for an architect, but compelled, as it were, by the public neces- sities to assume the office, and so to fulfil it, as to stand on a level with the most consummate masters of the art in Europe, and to take his stand on an eminence which his English successors almost despair of attaining. Wren descended from this lofty elevation, or awoke from his ennobling contemplation, not to meet with homage, not with ardent admiration, not with merited gratitude from the Church, the city, the nation for his wonderful work, but to encounter petty yet presumptuous jealousy, injustice, hostility, even the word must be spoken un- provoked malignity, and finally absolute degradation, as far as mean, men could degrade one like Wren. Yet everywhere but at S. Paul's, Wren was at the un- disputed height of his power and influence. No great building could be erected or remodelled without the judge- ment, skill, and science of Wren : Greenwich Hospital, Chelsea Hospital, Hampton Court, not a few of the most important churches in London and Westminster (as S. James's, Westminster), the great country houses of the nobility, as Audley End. Westminster Abbey, the rival of S. Paul's, was placed under his care. It might be sup- posed that the inexhaustible fertility, the indefatigable FT 434 WREN'S OTHER WORKS. CHAP, activity of Wren would be overwhelmed with these ac- XVII J , '-, cumulated labours ; and the slow progress, as it seemed to those who knew little of such works, of the Cathedral, might be attributed to these distracting occupations. But after the design had been finally determined, and the work- ing drawings executed, the task of architect and sur- veyor was that of superintendence and control, with vigil- ant care of course that everything was well and solidly done, and with a general responsibility for each and for every part. How conscientiously and wisely and fully Wren discharged these functions the Cathedral bears unanswer- able witness. With a most scanty and inadequate fund for repairs, it is now, after approaching two centuries, the marvel of its successive gifted surveyors for its unshaken, undecayed solidity of substantial structure, and, unless from miserable parsimony or unforeseen contingencies, may seem almost, as Wren boasted, built for eternity. The original Commission for rebuilding the Cathedral had comprehended all the highest names in Church and State. But, of course, the great officers of state became merely honorary members of such a board. The acting Commission gradually dwindled down, and fell into the hands of a few, and those assuredly not the most compe- tent counsellors in such matters. The Commission had provided that six members must be present to conduct business, one of these the Bishop of London or the Dean of S. Paul's. The Bishop, Compton, from age (he was above seventy) ceased to take an active part; Sherlock lived also to a great age, he died in 1707. The actual Commis- sion shrank into six or seven. There remained the Dean and one of the Eesidentiaries, with their neighbours the civilians from Doctors' Commons. Dr. Battesworth, Dean of the Arches, Sir Thomas Meeres, Queen's Advocate, a Dr. Nathaniel Lloyd, a Dr. Harwood, and one other established DIFFERENCES WITH WREN. 435 themselves as the ruling authorities. There was indeed a CHAP. XVII person on the original Commission who could appreciate -_ , '- and judge of Wren, and with Wren, so long as he survived, there was no collision. The accomplished Evelyn had tra- velled extensively and studied the arts with intelligence ; he had seen all the great buildings on the Continent, es- pecially in Italy. But Evelyn unhappily was dead. Wren seems to have anticipated, as the wiser advisers of the Crown may have anticipated, interference on the part of the Commission. It had been ordered, in clear and distinct terms, that nothing should be done contrary to the design and without the sanction of Wren. The first point of dispute between Wren and the Clergy has been already stated the prolongation of the fabric from a Greek to a Latin cross ; but this had been long determined. The second was later, on the position of the organ and the organ-gallery. In this, I apprehend, Wren was as unquestionably right on the principles of music as on those of his own science, architecture. The more remote the organ from the choristers, the more difficult to keep the accompaniment and the chant together with that perfect harmony, which is perhaps only perceptible to ears finely gifted and susceptibly instructed. The clergy insisted on the enclosure of the choir, no doubt partly for their own comfort and secluded dignity. Whether Wren designed any screen, or to what height that screen was to rise, does not appear. But he was compelled to submit, and, contrary to his judgement, to place the organ and organ-gallery upon the screen. The organ now stands under the north-east arch of the choir, exactly where Wren proposed to place it, 3 as is shown in a drawing recently discovered. 1 That the organ gallery over the is proved unanswerably in the opinion screen was not originally contemplated, of Mr. Penrose, from the substructure 436 THE COMMISSIONERS. CHAP. The Commission had now ebbed down to W. Godolphin, - , '-s the new Dean, Dr. Francis Hare, a residentiary, and the obsequious civilians. None of these were men of such distinction, as would give them authority on these ques- tions. Godolphin had risen from his near relationship he was brother, to Queen Anne's Minister. Hare had been tutor to the Marquis of Blandford, Marlborough's only son; he had been Chaplain- General to the Army. Of Hare, as in some respects a remarkable man, more here- after. The Commission even went so far as to take the painting of the cupola out of the hands of Wren ; they were afterwards, on their own judgement, to call Sir James Thornhill to complete that part. Wren had designed to use mosaics largely in the internal decoration, the only safe and durable material except gilding (and some of Wren's gilding comes out when burnished and cleaned as bright as ever). But mosaic imperishable, and that might be easily washed, would have defied time and the smoke of London. Mosaic, however, was judged too costly, and skilful artists were not immediately at hand. I hardly doubt but that Wren would have found or formed artists, had he been allowed free scope and ample means. But now the hostility of the Commissioners became more and more declared. I would willingly draw a veil over the shame of my predecessors ; but the inexorable duty of the historian forbids all disguise, all reticence. Their final overt act was violent, wrongful, insulting. There had been some murmurs in Parliament at the slow progress of the Cathedral to its completion. With due deference, there could be no tribunal so unfit to judge of such matters, so ignorant, or so ignorant of its ignorance, in the subterranean church. There was of the crypt. no provision for the columns which The organ was the work of Ber- supported it : they were interpolated, nard Smith : it cost 2,000?. and seriously interfere with the arches ATTACK ON WREN. 437 as the House of Commons. There seems to have been a CHAP, notion that a vast building like S. Paul's, with all its - _ XVIL accessories, all its countless details, all its infinite variety of exterior and interior ornamentation, its works of all kinds, and of every kind of material, might be finished off like an elegant Italian villa, or a small church, like S. Stephen's, Walbrook. However this may be, a clause had crept into the Act of Parliament, that until the work should be finished, a moiety of his salary should be withheld from the Surveyor. The Commissioners proceeded at once to carry this hard clause into effect. This was not only a hardship but a tacit imputation that the architect was delaying the completion of the work for his own emolument. It is indeed stated plainly in one of the Commissioners' papers, that Sir Christopher or ' some * employed by him, who by many affidavits have been ' proved guilty of great corruption, may be supposed to ' have found their advantage in this delay.' Wren pre- sented a petition to the Queen, ' beseeching Her Majesty to * interpose her royal authority, so that he may be suffered to ' finish the said building in such a manner and after such ' designs as shall be approved by Your Majesty, or such ' persons as Your Majesty shall be pleased to appoint for * that purpose.' Wren addressed also the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London. These petitions stated two of the points in dispute the painting of the cupola and the enclosure. 4 The representations of Wren were submitted to the Attorney-General, Sir E. Northey. The opinion of Northey distinctly acknowledged the case of Sir Christopher Wren to be very hard ; but the provisions of the Act were clear. He does not see that the Commissioners can order pay- * These petitions are in Elmos' Life of Sir C. Wren. 438 STATUE OF QUEEN ANNE. ment to be made till the Cathedral is finished. Wren had no course but a petition to the House of Commons, better judges of equity and honourable dealing than of art. ' Wherefore (wrote Sir Christopher) that honourable and ' august assembly so considered the case, and were so ' well satisfied with the justice and reasonableness of it, as ' to declare the church to be finished so far as may be ' required to be performed and done by him as Surveyor- ' General.' The salary was to be paid up to a certain day. The immediate cause of the dispute between the Com- missioners and the architect was now the iron enclosure. Wren stated in a petition to the Queen, that Her Majesty had given some large blocks of marble for Her Majesty's statue, with figures and ornaments. Sir Christopher had appointed a statuary in whom he had confidence to per- form the work. If the statue now in the western area was the work of that statuary, either the art of sculpture was at a very low ebb in England, or Sir Christopher, for once, grievously misplaced his confidence. 5 There was a dispute too about the covering of the cupola, whether with copper or lead. Lead was adopted at the cost of 2,500Z. ; copper was offered for 3,050Z. The Committee were for the copper. The dispute about the iron railing was not, as repre- sented by the Commissioners, a simple debate as to the use of hammered or cast iron. It was on a vital question. It involved the full or broken and interrupted view of the great west front of S. Paul's, or rather of the whole Cathedral. It was the design of Wren that it should be seen in all its height and breadth, with all the admirable balance * Bird, the sculptor, carved the seem, of the cost of the marble), and grotesque statue of Queen Anne, for each of the four figures round the which is in the forecourt of the Cathe- same, 2201., besides 501. for the shield dral, about this time, for which he and arms. Elmes, Life of Wren, p. received 2501. (exclusively, it should 401. IRON RAILINGS. 439 and proportion of its parts. He therefore would have CHAP. kept the fence low, and strongly objected to the tall pon- , 1 derous enclosure, which broke, obscured, or concealed the vestibule, the noble flight of steps, the majestic doors, the whole of the solid base or platform, from which the building rose. But the Commissioners, utterly blind to the architectural effect, proud of their heavy, clumsy, misplaced fence, which was cast at some works, now out of use, in Sussex, and 'thought marvels of execution' in those days (the elaborate beauty of some of the old mediaeval ironwork was forgotten), described Sir Chris- topher's design as mean and weak, boasted that their own met with general approbation, and so left the Cathedral compressed in its gloomy gaol, only to be fully seen, and this too near, by those who were admitted within the gates, usually inexorably closed. Wren's words were, ' As ' for the iron fence, it was wrested from me, and the doing * it carried on in a way that I may venture to say will be ' condemned.' But worse was to come. In the following year (1712) appeared a virulent pamphlet, ' Frauds and Abuses at * S. Paul's, in a Letter to a Member of Parliament.' It did not avowedly emanate from the authorities of the Cathedral, or from the Commissioners, but it took up their case, and one, a civilian, was shrewdly suspected of being the author. It was a long, bitter arraignment, not directly, but in hardly covert phrases, of Wren him- self. The chief carpenter, Jennings, and Bateman, the head superintendent, were the persons ostensibly assailed. But there was this sentence : ' It was well enough known ( who promoted underhand the petition for Greenwich i Church, and for what end they did it ; that it was to be ' revenged on the late Commissioners for rebuilding S. ' Paul's, and particularly on the Dean and Chapter, who 440 NEW COMMISSION. CHAP. * had the honour to be part of them, for presuming to dis- _" , ' x ' turb the secret gains and assumed powers of some persons ' employed on the works, and examining so strictly into ' frauds and abuses as they did.' 6 Jennings, the master carpenter, the chief object of the attack, from conscious innocence, or from honest indigna- tion, replied in language almost contemptuous. Of course it is now impossible (the less we rake up these miserable squabbles as to the inferior men the better) to determine the full right or wrong of the affair. The pamphlet im- puted to Jennings the purloining materials and conniving at the unfair perquisites of the workmen. This of course depended much on the usages of the trade, perhaps in those days largely and loosely understood. Sir Christopher him- self thought it necessary in the following year (1713) to publish a reply to the 'Frauds and Abuses.' He stood by his officers, and fully justified their proceedings. His case, to his friends, it should seem to the public of the day, as it has seemed to later inquirers, came off triumphant. The pamphlet had bitterly complained of the dissolution of the old Commission. That Commission, different from the original one, had consisted of twenty-eight persons. The new Commission was cut down to fifteen. The two Archbishops and the Bishop of London remained, but four other Bishops, who had rarely interfered, were discarded. The Dean stood alone, the Residentiaries were cut off. The Civilians were dismissed. In their place were the Lord Mayor and the Attorney-General. These, with Sir Christopher, were the acting body ; the others, mostly great officers of state, were honorary members, in fact, of the board. Still, however, Wren was not restored to his uncontested supremacy. The painting the cupola had been taken out Page 1, quoted in Elmes's 'Introduction,' p. xxx. Sill JAMES THORNHILL. 441 of his hands ; it was now made over, contrary to his CHAP. XVII wishes, to Sir James Thornhill. Thornhill in those days < , - stood high in his art. His design was not without bold- ness of conception, vigour and facility in drawing and execution. But the whole, in my present judgement, was an egregious mistake. 7 The cupola, instead of having been brought down by dark and heavy figures, ought to have melted upwards into light. In truth to paint a cupola nothing less was required than the free, delicate, accurate touch, the brilliant colour, the air and translucence ot Correggio. Instead of lifting the sight and thought heavenwards, Thornhill's work, with its opaque and pon- derous masses, oppresses and lies like a weight upon the eye and mind. It was a fatal fashion of the times; no ceiling was allowed its proper elevation : it was brought down by heavy masses of painting Where sprawl the saints of Verrio or Laguerre. There is another irremediable fault : the architectural framework of Thornhill's figures does not harmonise with the architecture of the building : it crosses and clashes with the lines and curves of the original structure. 8 On the accession of the House of Brunswick, George L, Jan. 20, 1714-15, the King, the Princes, and Princesses went in state to S. Paul's. With this procession close 1 I must acknowledge that, accord- public service. This use of the space ing to my present judgement, I deeply under the dome was no doubt contem- regret the cost and labour expended plated by Wren, on the restoration of Thornhill's work. 8 Mr. Penrose is of opinion, that But it was done when our only thought the seeming leaning forward of the was to repair what was actually in thirty-two Corinthian pilasters in a existence, and to preserve the paint- manner most painful to the sight, to ings, which were falling off in flakes which Mr. Fergusson (p. 271) so or hanging loose on the walls. The strongly objects, is caused by the bolder thought, of attempting to or- comparison with Sir James Thornhill's nament the interior of the church, architecture, which throws them for- rose afterwards with the determination ward, to use the space under the dome for 442 NEW COMMISSION. CHAP, the Royal visits to the Cathedral of the metropolis, till , . - the Thanksgiving of George III. in 1789. But if the accession of the House of Brunswick was thus early celebrated in the Cathedral, it was a fatal epoch to the architect of S. Paul's. There was, of course, a new Parliament. The Parliament which had done honour to Wren (Wren himself sat for Windsor) by vindi- cating his rightful claims, expired with the Queen. The Commission, too, ceased with the demise of the Crown. A new Commission was issued for carrying on, finishing, and adorning the Cathedral. On this Commission first appears the name of Sir Isaac Newton. Whether Newton attended the meetings does not appear ; the proceedings can hardly have had his sanction. Those proceedings are almost incredible. We can understand that the former Commission, under the influence of the Clergy, should think themselves qualified to judge of the interior ar- rangements of the church the closing of the choir, the position of the organ. They might imagine themselves to be exercising an enlightened patronage of the fine arts, by employing Sir James Thornhill on the cupola ; but that they should presume to dictate to the architect, and such an architect, on questions purely architectural ; that they should conceive that they could finish Wren's glorious building better than Wren himself; that they should issue their peremptory mandate, giving Wren but a fort- night for consideration and reply to their dictates is scarcely to be credited except from their own words. * I ' have considered,' writes Wren, ' the resolution of the ' honourable Commissioners for adorning S. Paul's Cathe- ' dral, dated October 15, 1717, and brought to me on the * 21st, importing that a balustrade of stone be set up on ' the top of the church, unless Sir Christopher Wren do, ' in writing under his own hand, set forth that it is WKEITS EEPLY. 443 ' contrary to the principles of architecture, and give his CHAP. ' opinion in a fortnight's time ; and if he doth not, then ^_ T 1 ' the resolution of a balustrade is to be proceeded with.' Wren's reply is dated October 28th, one week after. He cannot conceal or disguise his contempt : it breaks out in a few sentences. 'In observance of this resolution, I take * leave to declare, I never designed a balustrade. Persons * of little skill in architecture did expect, I believe, to see ' something they had been used to in Gothic structures, ' and ladies think nothing well without an edging. I should i gladly have complied with the vulgar taste, but I sus- * pended for the reasons following.' He proceeds to give his reasons, which, expressed in architectural terms, were probably not very intelligible to his adversaries or his masters. * I am further to observe, that there is already 1 over the entablature a proper plinth, which regularly ( terminates the building, and, as no provisions were ori- ' ginally made for a balustrade, the setting up one in such 1 a confused manner over the plinth, must apparently * break into the harmony of the whole machine, and in 1 this particular case be contrary to the principles of ' architecture.' Wren had thus complied with the de- mands of the Commissioners in less than a fortnight. He had given under his hand that it was * contrary to the principles of architecture;' but there is the balustrade to bear perpetual witness to the presumption of the Com- missioners, and the superior judgement of the architect. 9 But even this was not the worst. It can hardly have been without the sanction, if not through the direct influence of the Commissioners, that, the following year, Wren, in the eighty-sixth year of his age, the forty-ninth of his office, being still in full possession of his won- The letter is in Ehnes, p. 508. 444 DISMISSAL OF WREN. CHAP, derful faculties, was ignominiously dismissed from his XVII , ! office of Surveyor of Public Works. The appointment of his successor was attributed to German intrigue. Sir Robert Walpole was not the man to take much interest in the Cathedral, and doubtless had no concern in the affair. If he had, his son, with his profound reverence for his father, would hardly have written of Wren, ' as of one, the * length of whose life enriched the reign of several princes, ' and disgraced the last of them.' Benson, unhappily for him set over the head of Wren, paid dearly for his two acts of presumption the occupa- tion of the office of Wren, the inscription of his own name on Milton's monument in Westminster Abbey. Instead of his rightful obscurity during life, and utter oblivion after death, he lives and has obtained an infamous immortality in Pope's lines, which appear with variations in the ' Dunciad : ' Benson, sole judge of architecture sit, And namby pamby be preferred to wit. The later version is : On poets' tombs see Benson's titles writ, Lo ! Ambrose Phillips is preferred for wit. Benson, indeed, was not only held up to merited ridicule by the satirist, he had to undergo an humiliation no doubt far more galling to so presumptuous a man. He was publicly convicted of ignorance and incapacity. He was called on to survey the House of Lords, and made a report that the House and the Painted Chamber were in danger of falling. The prudent Peers demanded further inquiry. The result was an address to the Crown to remove and prosecute Benson. The King's gracious answer was, that he should be removed and prosecuted according to law. It might be thought that the Lords would have arraigned BENSON. 445 more justly those who appointed a man so incompetent to CHAP, such an office, rather than the man himself for his incom- -_ ' petency. But Benson had influence enough to obtain a grant of Whitehall Wharf, worth 1,500Z. per annum, the assignment of a crown debt in Ireland, and the reversion of another lucrative place. 1 Pope also wrote the sad line : While Wren with sorrow to his grave descends. But Wren had consolation in his sorrows. He retired to a house at Hampton Court, within view of another of his works. ' He then betook himself (so he writes) to a country 4 retirement, saying only, with the stoic, "Nunc me jubet ' fortuna expeditius philosophari." ' He resumed his philo- sophical studies with as great delight as ever. The author of the ' Parentalia ' goes on to say : ' Free from worldly 4 cares, he passed the greatest part of the five last follow- * ing years of his life (he lived to ninety-two), in contem- ' plation and studies, and principally in the consolation of 1 the Holy Scriptures, cheerful in solitude, and well pleased ' to die in the shade as in the light.' Heroic souls a nobler lustre find Even from those griefs which break a vulgar mind. That frost which breaks the common brittle glass Makes crystal into stronger brightness pass. Horace Walpole writes: * The beginning and completion ' of S. Paul's by Wren, are a fabric and an event which, * we cannot wonder, left such an impression of content e on the mind of the good old man, that, being carried to ' see it once a year, it seemed to recall a memory which ' was almost deadened to every other use.' There is something, it may be almost said, sublimely pathetic in the old man, ninety or approaching to ninety 1 Chalmers' Dictionary, ' Benson.' 446 WREN'S OLD AGE. CHAP, years of age, seated under the dome of S. Paul's, con- , L. templating his own work, which however, in some degree marred, was yet his own exclusively, entirely his own. As Walpole truly said, it has rarely if ever fallen to the lot of one man to design and to achieve a fabric of that magnitude, magnificence, and perfection. The great ca- thedrals, English and Continental, were the work of many generations. It has been before observed, how many popes, how many great architects, passed away, before Carlo Ma- demo completed and marred the great design of S. Peter's, a,nd Bernini enclosed it with its noble porticos. It was in truth part of the sacerdotal policy to leave something unfinished, as a perpetual appeal to the munificence of -the faithful, or from higher motives, that the successors of the Bishop or Abbot might have some share in works so meritorious before God, the Saviour, and the Saints. We trust that the dignitaries of the Church of S. Paul looked with respectful reverence on the old man, and some of them with compunction, who, doubtless from conscien- tious motives, but with sad misconception of their own position and power of judgement, had vexed that noble spirit. We say not, that they had aided in bringing his grey hairs in sorrow to the grave ; yet certainly, instead of unhesitating and acclaiming gratitude for his inappre- ciable services, and homage to his matchless gifts, they had at least countenanced the scanty and invidious ac- knowledgment of his fame, and at length his degradation by a blind misjudging government. Wren, besides the interference with his designs for the interior embellishment of the Cathedral, might look with some disappointment on the incompleteness of his work, the temporary windows, mean and incongruous, which re- mained, and in many parts still remain in our own day ; the cold, unadorned east end, for which he had designed INTERIOR OF THE CATHEDRAL. 447 a splendid Baldachin, and in general the nakedness of CHAP, the walls, which he had intended to relieve, perhaps with - . JL marbles, certainly with rich mosaics. But even in the interior there was some consolation, some pride in the partial fulfilment of his designs. The exquisite carvings of Grinling Gibbons were not merely in themselves admirable, but in perfect harmony with the character of the architecture. They rivalled, if they did not surpass, all mediaeval works of their class, in grace, variety, richness; they kept up an inimitable unison of the lines of the building and the decoration. In the words, again, of Walpole, ' there is no instance of a man ' before Gibbons, who gave to wood the loose and airy light- * ness of flowers, and chained together the various produc- * tions of the elements with a fine disorder natural to each ' species.' Grinling Gibbons was discovered by the enlightened Evelyn (it is doubtful whether he was of Dutch or English birth), in a poor solitary thatched house near Sayes Court, carving a Crucifixion from a large cartoon, the design of Tintoretto, which Evelyn himself had brought from Venice. In this piece were more than a hundred figures, there being nothing in nature so tender and delicate as the flowers and festoons about it, and yet the work was very strong. 8 He asked Evelyn 100Z. for the whole. The frame, says Evelyn, was worth as much. Evelyn took him by the hand, introduced 'the incomparable young man' to the King and to Sir Christopher Wren. His fortune was made. He worked on the theatre at Dorset Gardens. But his greatest works were at S. Paul's, at Windsor, at Chatsworth, and at Petworth. 2 Evelyn, Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 53. 1,337*. 7s- 6d. Vol. in. p. 105. Malcolm has a curious account of the Cibber executed some of the sculp- payments made to Gibbons for his tares on the exterior of the building work at S. Paul's. Total charge, Ibid. p. 107. 448 SIR KICHAKD STEELE. CHAP Sir Richard Steele in the ' Tatler,' a fair interpreter of XVII , 1" his times, drew the aged Wren under the name of Nestor. Nestor in Athens was an unhappy instance of this truth, for he was not only in his profession the greatest man of our age, but had given more proofs of it than any other man ever did ; yet from want of that natural freedom and audacity which is necessary in commerce with men, his personal modesty over- threw all his public actions. Nestor was in those days a skilful architect, and in a manner the inventor of the use of mechanic powers ; which he brought to so great perfection, that he knew to an atom what foundation would bear such a superstructure ; and they record of him, that he was so prodigiously exact that, for the experiment's sake, he built an edifice of great beauty and seeming strength ; but contrived so as to bear only its own weight, and not to admit the addition of the least particle. This building was beheld with much admiration by the virtuosi of that time ; but fell down with no other pressure but the settling of a wren upon the top of it (Where did Steele get this ? from Ms wjun bramf). Tet Nestor's modesty was such that his art and skill were soon disregarded for want of that manner, with which men of the world support and assert the merit of their own per- formances. Soon after this instance of his art, Athens was, by the treachery of her enemies, burned to the ground. This gave Nestor the greatest occasion that ever builder had to render his name immortal and his person venerable ; for all the new city arose according to his disposition, and all the monuments of the glories and distresses of that people were erected by that sole artist. Nay, all the temples, as well as their houses, were the effects of his study and labour ; insomuch that it was said by an old sage, ' Sure Nestor will now be famous, for the habitations ' of gods as well as men are built by his contrivance.' But this bashful quality still put a damp upon his great knowledge, which has as fatal an effect upon men's reputations as poverty, for as it said, ' The poor man 'saved the city, and the poor man's labour * was forgot,' so here we find, the modest man built the city, and the modest man's skill was unknown. 3 The total sum expended on the Cathedral (dismissing Tatler, No. lii. COST OF THE CATHEDRAL. 449 from the account sums borrowed on the security of the CHAP. coal duty, and repaid), and the expenditure on the repairs L of the old Cathedral, was 736,7522. 2s. In one of the petitions of the Commissioners, that in which the Dean and Chapter properly took the lead, there were some wise and weighty words : * We therefore desire 4 the Honourable Committee would be pleased to take ( into their consideration the annual expense of repairing 1 so great a building, and that a proportionable sum may * be appointed for a perpetual growing fund, to be lodged * in such hands as shall be named, to be applied solely 1 to this use.' This most reasonable petition remained unheard and unheeded. The sole provision left for the sustentation of the fabric was a residue from the coal duty. To this was subsequently added, by the will of a private benefactor, Dean Clark, part of the profits arising from the Estate of Tillingham in Essex, leased from the Dean and Chapter (the early gift of an old Saxon King), amounting to about 500Z., more or less. The charge of the fabric was not left to the Dean and Chapter, but, by a special Act of Parliament, was vested in the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, and the Lord Mayor for the time being. With these trustees rests the appointment of the surveyor, the examination and audit of the accounts, and in general the charge and maintenance of the Cathedral. G G 450 S. PAUL'S UNDEE GEOEGE I. AND GEOEGE II. 1 CHAPTEE XVIII. S. PAUL'S UNDER GEORGE I. AND GEORGE II. CHAP. THE terrible religious tempest, which, for nearly two cen- - , '-* turies had raged throughout Western Christendom, had cleared off into a cold serenity. The contending parties, weary and worn out, might seem to have agreed to a partition of the Christian world. To Papal and Latin Christianity remained the South ; Spain, which, from the dominant Power in Europe, had sunk into decrepitude, usually slumbering under the shadow of her former great- ness, now and then showing the life of her unswerving faith by an auto-da-fe of Jew, Moslem, or Protestant ; Italy, which seemed to console herself for the loss of her freedom, by beholding the Pope one of her princes, and retaining what became almost a right, that of securing to an Italian the PP. pal Chair. The Popes themselves had mostly be- come peaceful and devout, almost tolerant Prelates, patrons of arts and letters, till at length, in Ganganelli, appeared what was called a Protestant Pope. Southern Germany had been recovered to the Papacy by the skilful and in- defatigable labours of the Jesuits, and the unscrupulous and subtle policy of Austria. The allegiance of France was more doubtful, less submissive. Louis XIV. had insulted, controlled the Pope in his own capital. Galli- canism, in the words of Gioberti, was a sort of standing antipope. France had given the most splendid preachers, and some of the most powerful divines, Bossuet, Bour- CHRISTIANITY OF EUROPE. 451 daloue, Massillon, and the most admirable of Christians, CHAP. Fenelon, to the world ; but the unrebuked profligacy of -JL . ' the Court reflected no great honour on the influence of those great men, who were to be followed by Dubois and Rohan. By the stern suppression of Jansenism, Louis XIV. had strengthened the sacerdotal power, so as to make it insupportable. And in the last most cruel, most unjustifiable act of his long warfare, the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, the Dragonades, the massacres in the Cevennes, the extirpation or expulsion of the Pro- testants, had declared France irrevocably pledged to the old faith. The policy of repudiating all those who had deep religious convictions, surrendered France almost without resistance to new opinions far more dangerous, and led to the secession, temporary indeed, of France from the roll of Christian nations. The other hemisphere of Western Christendom, that of the Reformed Religion in its different phases, comprehended Northern Germany, where Lutheranism and Calvinism, worn out with their disputes, had sunk to rest, hereafter to awaken from their utter prostration, after the Thirty Years' war, and the French age of Frederick II., to a wonderful development of intellectual life ; Holland, not only the richest commercial country, but the refuge and seat of arts and letters ; the Scandinavian kingdoms ; the great flourishing cantons of Switzerland; and England. The boundaries of this Protestant Empire or Confedera- tion might seem fixed, almost for ever; no nation has since that time revolted from the faith then embraced, whether Catholic or Protestant. The Revolution of 1688, the accession of the House of Brunswick, has determined, we trust for ever, in which of the great divisions of Christianity England should take her place. The strife, after all, in England, had been G 2 452 ENGLAND. CBAP. far less sanguinary, far less wasteful of human life, than , L> in any other of the great countries of Europe. Survey Alva's massacres in the Low Countries, the wars which ended in the independence of Holland, the wars of the League in France with her S. Bartholomew : in Germany, the Peasant war, the Thirty Tears' war, with all the atrocities of Tilly and Wallenstein; the conflict with Gustavus Adolphus, which, for a certain time at least, crushed out the intellectual, almost the religious, life of Germany; and contrast these with the darkest times in England. Consider the executions under the Six Articles at the close of Henry VIII., the Marian persecutions, the executions of the Jesuits under Elizabeth, by whose, so far, salutary despotism, the aggressions of the Pope and Spain were repelled, and a kind of peace forced upon the con- tending parties ; then the Parliamentary wars, in which the blood of the King was indeed shed, but that for a political rather than a religious crime ; yet all this at its worst was orderly and bloodless, in comparison with the strife in the rest of Europe. The final act of the long strife was in England, at least, altogether peaceful. The inde- pendence of England at the Revolution of 1688 cost not a drop of blood. Even the Irish wars were more of race than of religion. The Cathedral of the metropolis had never looked down on streets flowing with the blood of the citizens of London ; she now lifted her head in un- disturbed and unbroken and all-respected repose. The issue of the whole the battle of centuries was, that as Europe, from absolute exhaustion and lassitude, sank into peace, at least into religious peace ; so on a narrower scale in England, a compulsory quietude came over the people's mind. The parties who had so long fiercely differed, and met in conflict, if not in war, were content to differ in secret, and without open collision. NONCONFORMISTS. 453 James II. had ruined the cause of his religion. The Roman Catholics, whom the edict of toleration secured from persecution, subsided into loyal, at least submissive, subjects. The Churchmen and the Nonconformists had fought under the same banner, and had approximated, to a certain extent, if not into amity, into mutual respect. A more Iib3ral race of Churchmen, the Cambridge Lati- tudinarians, Tillotson, Stillingfleet, Patrick, Burnet, were in the ascendant. The last scheme for comprehension, Nottingham's famous Bill, fell through, not so much from the iron determination of the Churchmen to make no concession, but from the indifference of the Noncon- formists. They had naturally begun to calculate their gain and loss. They were secure of toleration, which was theirs by law and by the spirit of the age. Locke's phi- losophy and Locke's civil policy, in his famous ' Letters ' on Toleration,' were in full possession of the public mind. At Oxford and in Convocation it might be repudiated, but Convocation was soon reduced to silence. It was the accredited and dominant belief. And toleration was as great a boon at least to the leaders among the Non- conformists, as admission to the rights and privileges, burdened with submission to the laws of the Church and Episcopal jurisdiction, could have been. The pastor of a wealthy and thriving congregation in the City of London, generously maintained, looked up to with respect, with reverence, it might be with affection, was in a much higher position, if not as to social rank, as to inde- pendence and moral influence, than a hard- worked, ill- paid curate or scantily endowed rector. They were per- haps richer, and more at their ease, than most Preben- daries or even Residentiaries of S. Paul's. If, in some re- spects inferior, they did not feel or own their inferiority. Hence they were content to leave to the Church its 454 ATTENDANCE AT S. PAUL'S. CHAP, benefices, its titles, its honours. They felt no humiliation XVIII. , though S. Paul's towered high above their humbler edifices. Secure in the possession of their substantial comforts, the free and conscientious and unmolested performance of their duties, they did not murmur, or at least did not make their murmurs heard, at leaving S. Paul's in the stately dignity of its services, while they saw Sunday after Sunday their own faithful and attached flocks at their feet. The Test and Corporation Acts might still perplex or harass the more ambitious or scrupulous dissenting citizens. But either these laws were not rigidly enforced, or slow and gradual changes of feeling lightened or enabled them to elude or bear their burdens. Occasional conformity ceased to become a mortal sin. The Mayor or Sheriff, though a Dissenter at heart, in his ordinary life a Nonconformist, on State occasions (and those oc- casions were frequent and periodical) did not scruple to take his seat of honour in the Cathedral. He saw the Bishop on his throne, the Dean and the Canons in their stalls, now no longer to him priests of Baal. The surplice was not now a rag of Popery. He heard the pealing organ, the chanted service, the full anthem, with no bitter compunction that he was listening to Popish idolatry. He did not scruple, after his admission to his oifice at Westminster, to pay his respectful visit to the Bishop of London, to solicit permission for his Chaplain (always a priest of the Church of England) to preach in the Cathe- dral. Two Deans of S. Paul's, one who became Bishop of Durham, the other Primate Butler and Seeker came of Nonconformist families. England the Church of England S. Paul's, if it may be still spoken of as the centre of the religion of England, at least as an example of the domi- nant Christianity, had subsided into a state of dignified repose, which perhaps, at a later time, stagnated almost CHANGE OF RELIGIOUS TEST. 455 into lethargy. Paul's Cross, once the tribune of religious CHAP. XVIII. disputation, had been destroyed under Cromwell, and had , 1 never risen again. The morning preachers in the Cathe- dral, chosen from the clergy of London, who had suc- ceeded to those at the Cross, were not, in general, disposed to awaken slumbering controversies. Uniin- passioned preachers gave good advice to unimpassioned hearers. What controversy was still abroad touched not the popular mind. The Bangorian controversy was almost confined to the clergy; but it is a curious fact, that though Thomas Sherlock, afterwards Bishop of London, was deep in the strife, Hoadley's most powerful antagonist (William Law) was not an ecclesiastic. Even in the University pulpit, the questions chiefly agitated were in general speculative questions, rather of theological erudition than of popular theology. I know not of any sermon preached at S. Paul's which, either from its bolder doctrine, or its peculiar power, made a very profound sensation on the public mind. No doubt there were those who departed from the common decorous dig- nity to denounce the new enemies of the faith, not the internal, the external enemies, the Hobbists or the deists in ' Toland's, Tindall's, and in Woolston's days.' The Arian- ising movement, detected or supposed to be detected, by the lynx eye of orthodoxy, in Locke, and to which Sir Isaac Newton had no doubt yielded, spoke out in the pulpit of S. James's, under the protection of Queen Caroline, by the vigorous and simple argumentation of Samuel Clarke, may have found its advocates or antagonists in S. Paul's, but has left, I believe, neither trace nor tradition. In the later period, the outburst of Methodism, working as it did its beneficent wonders among the lowest orders, the miners of Cornwall, the colliers of Wales and Bristol, and in the very dregs and lees of society, left S. Paul's, no 456 BISHOPS OF LONDON. CHAP, doubt, undisturbed in its stately quiescence. It was in _!_, ^ the suburbs of London that it startled the slumbering religious mind : Whitfield's famous tabernacle was in Tottenham Court Road. Of the eight Bishops who filled the see of London during the eighteenth century, three only have left a name Gibson, Thomas Sherlock, Lowth. The rest were decent, worthy Prelates, and from their quiet thrones have sunk into quiet oblivion : ' Non ragionam di lor, ma guarda e passa.' John Robinson was the successor of Henry Compton, August 26, 1713-1723. On this occasion there was a return to the old practice of rewarding services to the state by high ecclesiastical dignity. Robinson (like Pace of old) was a diplomatist rather than a divine. He had done useful service as ambassador at Warsaw, far more useful and distinguished as a plenipotentiary at the all- important treaty of Utrecht. He had held high prefer- ment a stall, a deanery, a bishopric, that of Bristol. His successor, Edmond Gibson, was as a churchman a man of a much higher stamp. He was one of our first northern scholars. His publications in that branch of let- ters were of a high order in his own day, and are named even in ours not without respect. He was an antiquarian, with the zeal and industry of a master in that useful brotherhood. His translation of Camden, with his addi- tions and illustrations, was long the standard book on the antiquities of our country. But these usually absorbing pursuits by no means detached the active mind of Gibson from the higher functions of his order. During the long illness of Archbishop Wake, Gibson was Primate of England. He was profoundly versed in the ecclesiastical law of our Church. ' Gibson's Codex,' a huge work, is the established repertory of our statutes and usages. Sir BISHOP GIBSON. 457 Robert Walpole was reproached with leaning too much on CHAP. Gibson, and making him an English Pope ; * and a very , - * good Pope too,' replied the Minister. He fell out of favour, however, with Walpole, for opposing a Bill for libe- rating the Quakers from certain restrictions, from which Walpole desired to relieve that body, now become perfectly inoffensive ; but who were yet hardly within the pale of orthodox liberality. 1 His Pastoral Letters were those of an earnest, profoundly religious Prelate ; few tracts stated so fairly, or answered with so much vigour, the aggressions of the deistical writers, then held to be most dangerous to the Church. Perhaps a catalogue of Gibson's writings subjoined, may give the fairest view of his varied and comprehensive knowledge and indefatigable industry : 1. New edition of William Drummond's Polemo-Middiana, and James V. of Scotland's Cantilena Rustica, illustrated with Notes. 4to. 1691. 2. Chronicon Saxonicum, Sax. et Lat. 4to. 1692. 3. Librorum MSS. in duabus insignibus Bibliothecis, altera Teni- soniana Londini, altera Dugdaliana Exon., Catalogus. 4to. 1692. 4. An edition of Quintilian. 5. An edition of Somner's Treatise on the Roman Ports and Forts in Kent, and also of his Julii Ceesaris Portus Iccius. 1694. 6. An English Translation of Camden's Britannia. Fol. 1695. 7. Vita ThomsB Bodleii. Historia Bibliothecse Bodleiante, pre- fixed to Catalog! Librorum MSS. in Anglia et Hiberma. 2 vols. 1697. 8. Reliquiae Spelmannianae. Fol. 1698. 9. Right of Archbishop to prorogue the whole Convocation, a letter. 4to. 1701. 10. Codex Juris Ecclesiastici Anglicani. Fol. 1713. Reprinted at Oxford, in two volumes, 1761. 11. Preservative against Popery. 3 vols. fol. 1738. Besides a variety of Sermons, Charges, Pastoral Letters, and Pamphlets. 1 Coxe's Life of Walpole. 458 DEANS IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. CHAP. The Episcopate of Edmund Gibson filled up nearly the , ^ half of the century. Thomas Sherlock succeeded in 1748. The Deans of S. Paul's during the eighteenth century were more eminent or more fortunate, not perhaps all, during the first hall' of the century. Of Godolphin's suc- cessors during that period, two became Primates, every one rose to the episcopal rank. Throughout the century a change was gradually but rapidly working in the social position, the estimation, comparatively speaking the opulence, of the higher Clergy. Before the Revolution, men of noble birth were, if not? entirely almost entirely, unknown among the Clergy. Compton stood nearly alone. Now, most of the aristocratic families were invited by the dignities and emoluments of the Church ; and in these quiet times, perhaps they strengthened by their connec- tion, and none of them can be said to have dishonoured ; most of them by their decent dignity, if not by high ac- quirements or learning, raised the Church in general esteem ; and though obtaining a larger share than was their right of high places, it was by no means to the exclusion of men who had better claims from their eru- dition and intellect. If one was made Dean, because he was brother of the Lord Chancellor, two were of humble Dissenting families of these one became Bishop of Durham, but has left a name not to be ennobled by his becoming Prince Palatine; the other rose to be Arch- bishop of Canterbury. Henry Godolphin resigned the Deanery in 1726, and returned to the more congenial provostship of Eton. There, by munificent donations, he left a memory long cherished by that famous college. My Etonian reverence for the good provost will hardly mitigate my strong re- probation of his conduct to Sir Christopher Wren while Dean of S. Paul's. He was succeeded by one, long a col- FRANCIS HARE, DEAN. 459 league (I fear I must add an accomplice as Residentiary) CHAP. of Godolphin, Francis Hare, who held the Deanery succes- , '- sively with the Bishoprics of S. Asaph and of Chichester. Francis Hare is too much mingled up with the sad affairs of Sir Christopher Wren. But, before he became Dean of S. Paul's, Wren and his troubles had passed away. Wren died in 1723. Hare (he had been Dean of Salisbury) was Dean of S. Paul's, Oct. 26, 1726. Hare had been, as has been said, tutor to Marlborough's son, chaplain-general to the army. He had been a busy and effective writer in de- fence of the Whig Administration during the ascendancy of Maryborough. These important services, as well as his unquestionable abilities, secured him the patronage of the Whig Ministers of George I. Hare must have had strong interest to have triumphed over the difficulties which he cast in his own way. Though one of his writings had been censured by Convocation 2 as tending to scepticism, besides Dean of S. Paul's, Hare became Bishop of S. Asaph and of Chichester. The censured publication was, for its day, of remarkable boldness and sagacity ; it might seem rather addressed to our own. It must be supposed that the censure of Con- vocation had the same effect then as now. The copy of the obnoxious work now before me is of the ninth edition. It is ' A Letter on the Difficulties and Discouragements which f attend the Study of the Scriptures in the way of Private ' Judgement.' It is in truth a powerful warning and dis- suasive from the perilous work of biblical criticism. The young clergyman, to whom it is addressed, is first appalled with the difficulties, the vast range of erudition required, the knowledge of the learned languages. The writer * Some biographers of Hare state searched the Journals in vain for such that the work was censured by the censure. It was, no aoubt, a mistake House of Commons. This is in it- for Convocation, self highly improbable ; and I have 460 HIS LETTER ON THE STUDY OF SCRIPTURE. CHAP, passes on to the dangers the dangers of deviating one -1 - , '- loir's breadth from the received opinions. I must give a few passages 3 from this work, which is written with singular force and lucidity : ' You cannot be sure yon * shall not study yourself into doubts at least, if not into ' opposite opinions, concerning some received opinions. ' You will doubt perhaps of the authority or authors * of some canonical book, and think perhaps that some * passages are interpolated, or that some celebrated texts ' are not genuine, or should be otherwise read, or have not * been rightly understood, or do not prove the point they ' are commonly brought for. You may fall into notions * which will be thought leading to Arianism or the like. ' You may reject arguments brought from the Old Testa- * ment to prove the Trinity, as trifling and proving nothing * but the ignorance of those that make them. You may * think a prophecy has a literal meaning where commonly * the mystical is thought the only one.' The writer dwells almost with eloquence on the conflict in the young man's mind, whether he should openly avow or suppress his opinions. 'Will you keep them to yourself or publish * them ? 'Tis no question the authors of new notions ' are apt to be very fond of them. They think it bar- ' barous and cruel to strangle the infant in the birth. But ' had you prudence enough to govern your ambition, * conscience may come in here and make you do what ' ambition could not. The truths you have discovered ' either are or will be thought by you of too much impor- * tance to the honour of God, and the good of religion, ' to be concealed. You will look on these as the blessings ' of God on your studies, and think it a capital crime to * extinguish the light and suppress the knowledge He has 4 entrusted to you.' Pages follow of incomparable saga- Pp. 11, 12. HIS INCOMPARABLE SAGACITY. 461 city and vivid language on the natural consequences of CHAP. being under the imputation of heresy the loss of in- , '- fluence among his people, the incapacity to work good among them. 'Nobody can do much good whom his 4 people do not think a good man, and that cannot be ex- ' pected, when so much reproach and infamy will, right ' or wrong, be heaped on you, if you. be not considered ' orthodox.' ' And therefore 'tis in vain to fancy your e virtue can save you. Tor the most conspicuous virtue * will not be believed. If you are guilty of no open vices, ' secret ones will be imputed to you. Your inquiries will f be called vain, curious, and forbidden studies. Pride and ' ambition will be said to be the secret springs of them. ' A search after truth will be called a love of novelty. ' The doubting of a single text will be scepticism. The * denial of an argument a renouncement of the faith. ' To say svhat the Scriptures have said, and in the very 1 same words too, will be blasphemy, and the most sincere * concern for the honour of Almighty God, you cannot be ' sure will not be interpreted downright schism. This ' outlawry can be effaced by no recantation, for who can ' trust the recantation of a heretic ? it can be redeemed by ' no virtue. Whatever you do be orthodox. Orthodoxy will ' cover a multitude of sins ; but a cloud of virtues cannot ' cover the want of the minutest point of orthodoxy. It ' is true that, according to the spirit of the age, this per- ' secution cannot burn you, but it may ruin you and your 4 family for ever. He will always be suspected of here- 1 sies who is once guilty, and his wife and children will * see him the perpetual subject of reproach and obloquy, * and feel it too, feel it in their maintenance, as if the chil- * dren of a heretic were a brood of heretics, a nuisance * to the Commonwealth, and infected the very air they breathe. 'Tis always supposed that the doctrine of the 462 HIS CONTROVERSIES AND SCHOLARSHIP. CHAP. ' Church you are of is right, that it is the doctrine of XVIII _ ., '.s i Scripture and antiquity. And this everybody thinks he * understands. So that little learning or reading is neces- ' sary to make any clergyman a judge over the learnedest * man alive.' 4 It is somewhat extraordinary that we next encounter Hare as on the High Church side deep in the Bangorian controversy, exchanging fierce and implacable passages of arms, on the power and authority of the clergy, with Bishop Hoadley and Hoadley's partisans. Hare was a scholar, but unfortunate in the results of his scholarship. As editor of Terence he trespassed on the manor of Bent- ley, who warned him off with the consciousness of his own superiority, not without some of his inborn rudeness and insolence. Hare's essays on Hebrew metre were re- futed in a more courteous tone, but with no less relentless condemnation, by Bishop Lowth. To Hare succeeded a greater name, Joseph Butler, Dean of S. Paul's, A.D. 1740-1756. The writings of Butler show how completely religious controversy had changed its ground. It is no longer the rights and powers of the clergy which are in dispute, no longer Puritanism and Episcopacy, Scripture and tradition, which are at issue. It is a more mortal combat against enemies without the pale. Butler's palmary argument, that the Deists are embarrassed with equal difficulties with Christians, 4 From Bishop Hare descended seem to have been prophetically ad- two remarkable brothers, churchmen dressed in his ancestor's famous of our own day : one, Augustus Hare, letter. Some narrow and ignorant of whom I can perhaps hardly speak spirits took alarm at his profound fairly from my warm and affectionate and extensive learning, and endea- friendship ; the other, a man more voured to fix on him an impeachment before the world, Julius Hare, who of heterodoxy. But in our day, a inherited from Bishop Hare the family man of the character, piety, and eru- living of Hurstmonceaux. But the dition of Julius Hare could live down curious fact is, that Julius Hare might such idle imputations. JOSEPH BUTLER, DEAN. 463 forms an epoch in our theology, not merely from the ex- CHAP.' quisite unadorned simplicity of his language, which treats - , - the profoundest subjects with glass-like perspicuity, but from the calm dispassionate way in which he argues out the whole question, with hardly an allusion, certainly without a personal allusion, to an antagonist. It is in the same Sermons, in my judgement more fully satisfac- tory than the ' Analogy,' that, with an incomparable ease and pellucidity of language, he discusses the profoundest questions of Christian morals. But it may seem presump- tuous to dwell longer on Butler, of whom S. Paul's may well be proud, as the Church and the philosophic literature of England are proud. In the second half of the eighteenth century, the first Bishop of London, December 27, 1748-1761, was Thomas Sherlock, son of the former "Dean of S. Paul's, William Sherlock. The rise of Sherlock the son was rapid and unchecked. He had none of the political strife, conse- quently none of the hatred of political warfare, to en- counter, which made his father the object of bitter and unforgotten satire. He was not rash enough to join in the perilous questions which laid the Dean open to his unforgiving and merciless adversaries. At Cambridge, Thomas Sherlock was so skilful in business and the man- agement of academical affairs, that he was called by Bentley * a little Alberoni.' He was deep in controversy, but on what his brethren and the world in general held to be the right side the Hoadleian controversy, in which, after William Law, he was the most powerful; against the Deists and those first, as yet despised, impugners of the supernatural, Tindal and Woolston. Thomas Sher- lock's sermons were long held to be the model of English pulpit eloquence. It is curious to compare Sherlock with the great masters of the French pulpit (remembering that 464 THOMAS SHERLOCK. CHAP, our Shakespearean age of religious writers had passed J , 1< away, Hooker, Jeremy Taylor, I will add Barrow), the lofty dictatorial Bossuet, Bourdaloue with his vigorous, honest sincerity (overlaid, almost oppressed, by citations from the Fathers), the dramatic pathos of Massillon. The English ear had become impatient of anything but plain, solid argument ; it disliked, it affected to despise, every gleam of fancy, every touch of passion ; and Sherlock ruled supreme, not merely from his masculine vigour and sustained force, but from his deficiencies. Men were con- tent to be argued with, to have their reason convinced ; they cared not, or rather were unwilling, to be moved. Emotional Christianity, exhausted by its excesses, was under proscription, and acquiesced in silence ; to be roused again to new life by the wild alarum of the earlier Methodists. There was then a rapid succession of decent Prelates, who no doubt discharged their functions with quiet dignity, and lived their blameless lives in respect and in esteem : Thomas Hayter, 1761; Eichard Osbaldiston, 1762; E. Terrick, May 27, 1764. But Eobert Lowth, Bishop of London, April 22, 1777, must not be passed over in silence. Lowth was what we may call the model of an academical Prelate, a scholar advanced in the knowledge of Hebrew, at least beyond most men of his day. Master of a Latin style, with a purity and elegance rarely surpassed, Lowth was duly grateful to the University which had enabled him to cultivate his rich gifts. I must quote at some length the noble passage from his controversy with the literary tyrant of his day. It may not perhaps be quite seemly to see dignified Prelates in fierce personal alter- cation ; but Warburton was an adversary who would con- temptuously provoke, and richly deserve, the strongest language. To combat Warburton in mild and gentle ROBERT LOWTH, BISHOP OF LONDON. 465 terms would have been to pour oil on a seething tempes- CHAP. tuous sea. The subject of the quarrel of these divines ^_ T J, was one of pure erudition the age of the Book of Job. Modern criticism would hardly admit the conclusions of Lowth ; but Warburton knew absolutely nothing of the question. He was no Hebrew scholar; all he knew was that the earlier date of the Book of Job was in the way of his famous theory or paradox, and it must therefore come down to a late date. In his coarsest way he had spoken with some contempt of Lowth's education. Lowth re- joined : ' To have made a proper use of the advantages * of a good education is a just praise ; but to have over- ' come the disadvantages of a bad one is a much greater. ( In short, my Lord, I cannot but think that this inqui- ' sition concerning my education is quite beside the pur- ' pose. Had I not your Lordship's example to justify me, ' I should think it a piece of extreme impertinence to * inquire where you were bred ; though one might justly f plead an excuse for it, a natural curiosity to know where ( and how such a phenomenon was produced. It is com- ' monly said that your Lordship's education was of that * particular kind, concerning which it is a remark of that ' great judge of men and manners, Lord Clarendon, on ' whom you have, with a wonderful happiness of allusion, 4 justness of application, and elegance of expression, con- ' ferred the unrivalled title of the " Chancellor of Human * " Nature," that it peculiarly disposes men to be proud, * insolent, and pragmatical. 5 Now, my Lord, as you have * in your whole behaviour and in all your writings remark- * ably distinguished yourself by your humility, lenity, meek- ' ness, forbearance, candour, humanity, charity, civility, ' decency, good manners, good temper, moderation with ' In a note is Clarendon's account son of a butcher, bred up as clerk of the birth and education of Harrison to an attorney H H 466 HIS CONTHOVEKSY WITH WAEBURTON. CHAP. ' regard to tlie opinions of others, and a modest diffidence XV1IL . < of your own, this unpromising circumstance of your ' education is so far from being a disgrace to you that it t highly redounds to your praise.' So far the fine sar- casm of the highly-provoked controversialist. Now hear the scholar and the Bishop : ' But I am wholly precluded ' from all claim to such merit ; on the contrary, it is well ' for me if I can acquit myself of a charge that lies hard ( upon me the burden of being responsible for the great * advantages which I enjoyed. For, my Lord, I was edu- ' cated in the University of Oxford ; I enjoyed all the ' advantages, both public and private, which that famous ' seat of learning so largely affords ; I spent many happy 1 years in that illustrious society, in a well-regulated ' course of useful discipline and studies, and in the agree- * able and improving converse of gentlemen and scholars, ' in a society where emulation without envy, ambition ( without jealousy, contention without animosity, excited ' industry and awakened genius ; where a liberal pursuit ' of knowledge and a generous freedom of thought was ' raised, encouraged, and pushed forward by example, by ' commendation, and by authority. I breathed the same ' atmosphere that the Hookers, the Chillingworths, and ' the Lockes had breathed before, whose benevolence ' and humanity were as extensive as their vast genius ' and their comprehensive knowledge ; who always treated 1 their adversaries with civility and respect ; who made ' candour, moderation, and liberal judgement as much the 1 rule and law as the subject of their discourses ; who did 1 not amuse their readers with empty declamations and ' fine-spun theories of toleration, while they were them- ' selves agitated with a furious inquisitorial spirit, seizing ' every one they could lay hold on for presuming to dissent * from them in matters the most indifferent, and dragging HIS LECTURES ON HEBREW POETRY. 467 ( them through the fiery ordeal of abusive controversy. CHAP. ' And do you reproach me with my education in this place, , 1. ' and with my relation to this most respectable body, ' which I shall always esteem my greatest advantage and * my greatest honour ? ' 6 But besides its exquisite Latinity and the almost original discovery of the rules and principles of Hebrew verse, the Lectures on Hebrew Poetry make an epoch unperceived perhaps and unsuspected by its author. These lectures first revealed to the unstartled world that a large portion of the Hebrew Scriptures was pure poetry ; addressed to the imagination, or to the reason through the imagina- tion, and therefore making a very different demand on the faith of the believer. This appears to me what I will venture to call the great religious problem. We have -had a Hooker who has shown what truths we receive from revelation, what truths from that earlier unwritten reve- lation in the reason of man. We want a second Hooker, with the same profound piety, the same calm judgement, to show (if possible, to frame) a test by which we may discern what are the eternal and irrepealable truths of the Bible, what the imaginative vesture, the framework in which these truths are set in the Hebrew and even in the Christian Scriptures. Theology has so long accepted and demanded the same implicit belief in the metaphors, the apologues, the allegories, as in the sublime verities or the plain precepts of our Lord. It has refused to make any allowance for poetry, and endeavoured to force upon our slower and less active minds all the Oriental imagery, all the parabolic creations, as literal objects of the Christian faith. In these investigations the Oxford Professor of Poetry unknowingly led the way in his lectures, which Letter to Warburton, pp. 6, 69. H II 2 468 HIS EPITAPH ON HIS DAUGHTER CHAP, were eagerly read by all scholars and divines. Michaelis V T _ J and Rosenmuller, as more advanced Hebrew scholars, may have been more accurate and full on the technical laws of Hebrew poetry ; Herder may have entered with pro- founder philosophy into its spirit ; but Lowth first opened the field, and, by his refined taste and admirable Latin style, made the subject popular, as far as the narrow popu- larity which such subjects could command. It is curious too, as illustrative of Lowth's utter unconsciousness of the consequences of his revelations as to Hebrew poetry, that, in translating the greatest of their poets, he seemed to forget that he was translating a poet, and chilled Isaiah down to the flattest correct perhaps but unrelieved, inharmonious prose. Compare, solely as the version of a poet, Lowth's Isaiah with the Isaiah of Gesenius. Lowth wrote much English verse, but his life as an English poet soon came to an end; he seemed far more highly inspired in Latin. In justice to his memory, we must not close without his epitaph on his daughter, often cited, but which cannot be cited too often : Cara vale, ingenio praestans, pietate, pudore, Et plus quam natse nomine, cara vale. Cara Maria vale ! at veniet felicius aevnm Quando iterum tecum, sim modo dignus, ero. Cara redi : laeta turn dicam voce, paternos Eia , After the accession of the House of Brunswick and the procession of George I. to S. Paul's, the royal presence was not vouchsafed for more than seventy years in the Cathedral. George II. never entered S. Paul's, certainly not in kingly state. The early part of the reign of George III., though glorious under Chatham, gave no opportunities for pious celebrations of national victory. But the piety of George III. would not leave without public thanksgiving his recovery from the grievous malady with which he had been afflicted. On April 25, 1789, there was a solemn procession. The nation, with whom the sorrows of the King had rendered him highly popular, be- held him, with the Queen, the Prince of Wales, the Duke of York, and others of rank, in royal state, along the streets. There was the usual ceremony at Temple Bar, the Lord Mayor and the civic authorities performing their usual functions. The King, followed by his family, drove through the area, was received at the west door and con- ducted up the nave by the Bishop Porteous and the Dean Pretyman. Both Houses of Parliament were in attendance ; the Peers filled the body of the choir, the Commons the stalls. The sermon was preached by the Bishop of Lon- don. With the choir were the charity children (GO'OO), who joined in some part of the service. A second time George III. went in procession with all the royal family, December 23, 1797, in thanksgiving for the naval victories. Both Houses of Parliament were present. The distinguishing and imposing part of that ceremonial was the bearing the French, and Spanish, and Dutch flags captured in the several actions (as yet the victories of Cape S. Vincent, the Nile, Copenhagen, Tra- falgar, were to come). The French flag taken on June 1 474 OVATIONAL PROCESSIONS. CHAP, was borne by Admiral Caldwell, with eight Admirals and XVIII. . , ^ Captains Sir Thomas Pasley, Sir Roger Curtis, Admiral Bazely, Admiral Grambier, Lord Hugh Seymour, Captain Payne, Captain Domett, Captain Elphinstone. Admiral Goodall, with three others, Linzee, Young, Holloway, bore the flag of March 14, 1795. Sir Alan Gardner, with Admiral Hamilton and four others, that of June 23, 1795. Sir Charles Thompson that of February 14, 1797. Admiral Waldegrave that of February 18, 1797, at the head of others hereafter to enter S. Paul's funeral porch ; Sir Horatio Nelson and with him six Captains. Captain Douglas bore the flag of Admiral Lucas taken August 17, 1796. Then appeared the Dutch trophies of Camperdown, October 11, 1797; Lord Duncan bearing the flag of De Winter, Sir Richard Onslow that of Admiral Reintjies. Ten Captains of the fleet followed. But before these ovational pomps S. Paul's had wit- nessed a peaceful, civil funeral procession, to which never- theless her gates were readily opened. Not indeed for the first time did her vaults , then receive an Englishman renowned for eminence in the fine arts. Already in the place of honour, the extreme east of the crypt, reposed the mortal remains of Sir Christopher Wren. On a black marble slab are the following simple words : HERE LIETH SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN, The builder of this Cathedral Church of St. Paul, &c. Who dyed In the year of Our Lord MDCCXXIII. And of his age XCI. 1 1 The inscription, which once ap- will of Wren was removed with the peared in front of the organ gallery, gallery, hereafter to be replaced in a that gallery erected contrary to the position as conspicuous. == ! - . --. - "rv^-= TOMB OF SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. FUNERAL OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 475 At the feet of Wren repose a long line of the artists CHAP. XVILL. who have done honour to Hingland. , On March 3, 1792, with an almost royal procession of nearly a hundred carriages, the body of Sir Joshua Rey- nolds was conveyed to the Cathedral. The highest Peers begged for the honour of being his pall-bearers Dukes Dorset, Leeds, Portland ; Marquises Townshend, Abercorn; Earls Tnchiquin, Upper Ossory, Viscount Palmerston, Lord Eliot. The Academy forgot all the grievances with which they had vexed the later years of Reynolds, in their deep and reverential sorrow. It was the homage paid to a man who had almost created the art of painting in England, who had written on art with consummate judgement, had been loved by all the best and wisest men of his day. By the side and around the father of English art crowded, in later times, his descendants and disciples the Presidents of the Academy, West, Sir Thomas Lawrence, Barry, Dance, John Opie, Fuseli. Last, the great magician of English landscape, William Mallory Turner. It was Turner's dying request that he might repose as near as possible to Sir Joshua Reynolds. This request was granted without hesitation. There was a wild story that Turner, in one of his fits of ill humour with the world, had willed that he should be buried in his ' Carthage ' as a shroud. Had this been done I fear that his tomb would not have remained long inviolate. Happily the Dean had not to succumb to the temptation of at least tacitly conniving at a crime, like that of the Saint wor- shipper of old, who broke open their tombs for less valu- able plunder plunder which the world might have better spared than Turner's ' Carthage.' The great sculptors, Flaxman, Chantry, Westmacott, sleep elsewhere. But not far from Wren rests one of the guardians of his edifice, Robert Myles, the builder of the 476 EOBBERY AT S. PAUL'S. CHAP, once noble Blackfriars Bridge. The Thames was not like -I , '.s the poetic Araxes, indignant at being bridged over, but slowly, by the gradual shifting and changing in its channel, it has undermined that stately bridge, which seemed then as if it would endure for ever. Here, too, I must not omit it, in my own day, was laid the skilful disciple, I might almost say the worshipper of Wren, whose works he grouped together in an engraving of singular interest, long the faithful custodian of Wren's work and of Wren's fame, Charles Robert Cockerell. It remains only to inscribe the names of the Bishops of London and the Deans of S. Paul's, since the commence- ment of the present century. Of their fame and of their defects posterity must give its verdict. But before that I must insert a melancholy paragraph. At the commencement of the nineteenth century S. Paul's suffered a grievous loss, not now from fanatic Iconoclasts or fanatic Puritans, but from low London thieves ; it is to be feared, though it was never proved, aided by accomplices within the sacred walls, and belonging to the establish- ment. The account is best given from the journals of the times, Sunday, December 23, 1810: 'This morning the * sacrist of S. Paul's Cathedral, on approaching the repo- * sitory where the sacramental plate is kept, in order to ' take it to the altar, found the iron door had been double- * locked ; as this key could only open it when single- * locked, he concluded the officer who kept the master key ' had done it; he accordingly went to him, and they both ' repaired to the spot, when on opening the door a most ' affecting scene presented itself. The two large chests ' had been forced open and emptied of their valuable con- ' teuts ; a magnificent edition of the Bible and Common ' Prayer in two volumes, the covers of which were of solid * silver, most beautifully chased with Scripture history, VALUE OF THE PLUNDER. 477 1 was deprived of its ornaments ; and the whole of the CHAP. * immense booty, amounting to 1,761 ounces, was carried ^_ ' off. The villains seem to have acted with the most cool * deliberation. To effect their purpose they had to pass ' eight doors before they reached the repository ; each of ' these doors they opened, and on their return carefully * relocked, excepting the iron door, which they double- 1 locked. The large chests were each secured by two im- ' mense padlocks, besides the principal chest locks ; the ' padlocks they opened, but the locks baffling their exer- * tions, they contrived to force the chests open. The * robbery must certainly have been committed on the ' night of Friclay or Saturday, as on the former day the ' plate was used at an Ordination. The intrinsic value of ' the plunder is not the only thing to be lamented ; as a * great part of it was of the most curious antique work- ' manship, being presents from different Deans and other ' pious persons, and might be considered as exquisite speci- ' mens of the workmanship of the different ages in which ' they lived, and could not now be executed at less than 1 2,OOOL Every precaution and means have been taken 1 to discover the depredators, but hitherto without effect.' 2 Malcolm, who wrote some years before the robbery (his book is dated 1803), and seems from intimacy with some of the officers of the Cathedral to have been permitted to make very minute inquiries on many subjects relating to S. Paul's, not only describes the plate, but gives the Latin inscription on each separate piece. From his ac- count the great antiquity of most of it may be doubted. The great Bible, edition 1640, with a silver gilt cover, representing a Temple with Moses and Aaron in the inter- vals between the columns, and Jacob's dream on one side, with the inscription, ' Verbum Domini manet in seternum.' 2 Gentleman's Magazine, vol. Ixxx. part n. p. 655. 478 DESCRIPTION OF THE PLATE. CHAP. On the other leaf, the Prophet fed by the raven, and L- ' Habent Mosen et Prophetas, audiant illos.' A most superb silver gilt and embossed Prayer Book adorned with angels, a glory, pillars, &c., inscribed ' Oculi ' Domini super istos et aures ejus in preces eorum,' and ' Fiant orationes pro omnibus hominibus pro regibus.' Two silver gilt chalices with patens, embossed with a saint bearing Agnus Dei. A pair of patens. Two large silver gilt plates, the gift of Mr. Charles Smith, late Prebendary of S. Paul's, and Archdeacon of Colchester. The bottom of these plates embossed with re- presentations of the Lord's Supper, and the widow giving her mite. The rims with the donor's arms and crest, cherubim and scrolls. Two enormous tankards, finely embossed, given by the same Rev. Charles Smith. A very large silver gilt plate. The centre an angel with a label and a Greek inscription, the arms of the donor on the back. Another very large silver gilt plate, with the Lord's Supper, extremely well done, on its borders, cornucopise and emblematical figures. Two large tankards of silver gilt, very much but clumsily embossed. A large silver gilt plate, with I.H.S. on a glory. A pair of silver gilt candlesticks, two feet nine inches high, exclusive of the spike, with triangular feet. Two other candlesticks of the same materials, about two feet in height. 3 S. Paul's never beheld again any of these treasures, and the authorities dominant at the time were content with very modest vessels for the altar of the Cathedral. 8 Malcolm, vol. iii. pp. 144, 146, with the inscriptions. BISHOPS AND DEANS OF THE NINETEENTH CENTUEY. 479 The Bishops of London of the ifineteenth century CHAP. XVIII. were : >_ , John Eandolph. May 25, 1808. William Howley. August 12, 1813. Archbishop of Canterbury. Charles James Blomfield. August 15, 1828, who, in 1856, was succeeded by Archibald Campbell Tait, the present Bishop. DEANS. On the promotion of Pretyman Tomline to Winchester. William Van Mildert, also Bishop of Llandaff. Bishop of Durham. April 20, 1820. Charles Richard Sumner, also Bishop of Llandaff. Bishop of Winchester. April 25, 1826. Edward Coplestone, also Bishop of Llandaff. December 12, 1827. Henry Hart Milman. November 30, 1849. 480 THE MONUMENTS IN S. PAUL'S. CHAPTER XIX. THE MONUMENTS IN S. PAUL'S. CHAP. THERE had long been a low murmur among intelligent "Y"T"V" _ / ' ^ men, which grew at length into a loud acclamation, that S. Paul's might fitly become a Valhalla for English wor- thies. Westminster Abbey was already crowded to over- flowing, and to say nothing of the many bad fantastic monuments of all ages in the Abbey, modern statues were in themselves ill suited for its aspiring Gothic architecture. But the naked walls, the arcades, the recesses of S. Paul's would be enlivened and enriched, its lines not incongru- ously broken by images of great men, or even monuments of more ambitious sculpture. But the adverse determina- tion seemed invincible ; it could not be infringed, as it has appeared, for a monument to a Dean. Thomas Newton's monument wandered to another church. It is highly to the honour of S. Paul's that the first triumph over this inveterate prejudice was extorted by admiration of the highest Christian charity. The first statue admitted at S. Paul's was, not that of statesman, warrior, or even of sovereign ; it was that of John Howard, the pilgrim, not to gorgeous shrines of saints and mar- tyrs, not even to holy lands, but to the loathsome depths and darkness of the prisons throughout what called itself the civilised world. Howard first exposed to the shuddering "sight of mankind the horrible barbarities, the foul and abo- minable secrets, of those dens of unmitigated suffering. By STATUE OF JOHN HOWARD. 481 the exposure he at least let some light and air into those CHAP. XIX earthly hells. Perhaps no man has assuaged so much ._ T '__ human misery as John Howard ; and John Howard rightly took his place at one corner of the Dome of S. Paul's, the genuine Apostle of Him among whose titles to our veneration and love not the least befitting, not the least glorious, was that 'he went about doing good.' The ice of prejudice was broken ; the example was soon fol- lowed. The second statue, at the earnest urgency of Sir Joshua. Reynolds, was that of Samuel Johnson. Though Johnson was buried in the Abbey among his brother men of letters, yet there was a singular propriety in the erec- tion of Johnson's statue in S. Paul's. Among the most frequent and regular communicants at the altar of the Cathedral might be seen a man whose ungainly gestures and contortions of countenance evinced his profound awe, reverence, and satisfaction at that awful mystery ; this was Samuel Johnson, who on all the great festivals wan- dered up from his humble lodgings in Bolt Court, or its neighbourhood, to the Cathedral. Johnson might be well received as the representative of the literature of England. Sir Joshua Reynolds took the third place, as the master in our fine arts. The fourth was adjudged to that remark- able man, Sir W. Jones, the first who opened the treasures of Oriental learning, the poetry and wisdom of our Indian Empire, to wondering Europe. The great work of the revolution began. One triumph broke down and swept away any lingering reluctance (if there was still reluctance) to people the walls of S. Paul's with cenotaphs or statues to our great men. Our victorious admirals and generals imperatively demanded places of honour for their name and memory. Parliament, to whose omnipotence the clergy could not bow at once, issued its commands ; and, perhaps with ill-judging but honourably II 482 CHRONICLE OF MONUMENTS. CHAP, prodigal liberality, voted large sums for monuments, which XIX _"- T -'_^ could not -be expended but on vast masses of marble, more to the advantage of the artists than to their sub- lime art. Fames and Victories, and all kinds of unmean- ing allegories, gallant men fighting and dying in every conceivable or hardly conceivable attitude, rose on every side, on every wall, under every arch. The chronicle of these monuments will best follow the chronicles of our more glorious feats of arms or the ex- tension of our empire. I. The line of our naval heroes wound up by Nelson, who so cleared the ocean at Trafalgar of our adversaries that he left but little to be achieved, after his crowning victory, by his no less brave perhaps, but less fortunate followers and disciples. Most of the other monuments were cenotaphs or statues. The tomb of Nelson contained the mortally wounded body of Nelson. II. The rulers, administrators, warriors, we may add the two first Christian Bishops of our Indian Empire, will follow in due course. III. Then may fitly come our military heroes who died in their country's service in every part of the world. These after many years, as the naval heroes culminated and closed in Nelson, will be brought to a glorious end by Wellington. IV. We sum up and conclude with a few men, perhaps not less useful to mankind, though less splendidly re- nowned ; men of science, of art, and of letters. I. The marble chronicles of our naval conquerors com- menced with Lord Rodney a splendid mass of marble, for which Parliament began its lavish grants. The sculptor Rossi how chosen, and by whom the design was approved, appears not received 6,OOOL Henceforth the conventional Fame and faithful History took their regular stand. But NAVAL HEROES. 483 history, written in even more durable characters than in CHAP. XIX marble figures, watched over the glory of Bodney, since --J-^LL the days of Blake and La Hogue, the first of our admirals who achieved a most important and well-timed victory. With the war of the French Re volution began our long and uninterrupted line of naval victories the 1st of June, off" Cape Ushant, Camperdown, Cape St. Vincent ; Nelson's three days, Aboukir, Copenhagen, Trafalgar. The admi- rals of the three first triumphs died in peace, in good old age ; they were honoured with monuments. Nelson was borne from his death-scene to the crypt of the Cathedral. After Bodney, the first admiral to whom a cenotaph rose was Lord Howe, the conqueror of the 1st of June. This was entrusted to an artist of far higher character, and the execution in some degree balances the usual cold and un- speaking allegory. Then comes Lord Duncan, the victor of Camperdown. It is a simple statue by Westmacott, with a seaman, his wife, and child, on the pedestal. In the battle of Cam- perdown fell Captain Eichard Bundle Burges, commander of the 'Ardent,' whose. monument is in the south tran- sept. Earl St. Vincent, Sir John Jervis, by his title announces the scene of his victory. A colossal statue by Bailey, the pedestal with the inevitable History and Victory. Then come those who fell in Nelson's victories before Nelson himself fell. Captain Westcott, who commanded the ' Majestic ' in the battle of Aboukir. Captain Mosse and Captain Biou, who fell before Copen- hagen. The gallant, good Biou of Campbell's noble song : n2 484 FUNERAL OF XELSON. CHAP. And yet amidst that joy and uproar; ^ X1 - x - ^ Let us think of them that sleep, Full many a fathom deep By thy wild and stormy steep, Elsiuore ! Captain E. Willet Miller, having witnessed and shared in the victories of Cape St. Vincent and the Nile, died off the coast of Acre. Captain Faulkner fell in an engagement with a French frigate of superior force. Sir William Hoste has a simple statue and a simple epitaph. Two Trafalgar captains, Captain Duff of the 'Mars,' Captain Cooke of the ' Bellerophon,' lead up to the com- manders on that eventful day, Nelson and Collingwood. The funeral of Nelson was a signal day in the annals of S. Paul's. The Cathedral opened wide her doors to receive the remains of the great admiral, followed, it might almost be said, by the whole nation as mourners. The death of Nelson in the hour of victory, of Nelson whose victories at Aboukir and Copenhagen had raised his name above any other in our naval history, had stirred the English heart to its depths, its depths of pride a"nd of sorrow. The ma- nifest result of that splendid victory at Trafalgar was the annihilation of the fleets of France and Spain, and it might seem the absolute conquest of the ocean, held for many years as a subject province of Great Britain. The procession, first by water, then by land, was of course magnificent, at least as far as prodigal cost could com- mand magnificence. The body was preceded to S. Paul's by all that was noble and distinguished in the land, more immediately by all the Princes of the blood and the Prince of Wales. The chief mourner was the Admiral of the Fleet, Sir Peter Parker. SARCOPHAGUS BY TOREEGIANO. 485 The place of interment was under the centre of the CHAP. XIX dome. As a youth I was present, and remember the ~'J T "-L solemn effect of the sinking of the coffin. I heard, or fancied that I heard, the low wail of the sailors who bore and encircled the remains of their admiral. By a singular chance, the body of Nelson is deposited in a sarcophagus in which Cardinal Wolsey expected to repose. It was designed and executed for Wolsey by the famous Torregiano. It lay for centuries neglected in Wolsey's Chapel at Windsor. Just at this time, George III. was preparing to make that chapel a cemetery for his family. What was to be done with what had been thrown aside as useless lumber? It was suggested as fit to eii- case the coffin of Nelson. It is a fine work, marred in its bold simplicity by some tawdry coronets, but the master Italian hand is at once recognised by the instructed eye. On each side of Nelson repose the vanguard and rear- guard of Trafalgar, Collingwood and Lord Northesk. Nelson has a monument most inconveniently placed at the opening of the choir. Collingwood, too, has a stately national monument by Westmacott ; and though Nelson, with his aid, had cleared the seas, the unwearied vigilance with which Collingwood wore out his noble life in keep- ing inviolable the dominion of England deserved all honour. But the noblest as well as the most popular, it may be the most enduring, monuments of Nelson and of Collingwood are the ' Lives ' of the two great admirals, the manual of aspiring English seamen. There are some few later monuments to distinguished seamen, to Sir Pulteney Malcolm, Captain Lyons, Captain Loch. In later days, there is one monument inscribed with a name to be held in the highest honour, that of Edmund, Lord Lyons. 486 MONUMENT OF MAEQUIS COENWALLIS. CHAP. II. Opposite to the monument of Nelson stands that of XIX -1- T -1-' one who may well open the roll of those great men who have administered our mighty empire, or devoted their lives to the service of their country. To few would the Valhalla of England open her gates with greater alacrity and pride than to the Marquis Cornwallis. The career of Cornwallis began in disaster but not in ignominy. The ignominy of his defeat in the American War belongs to the rulers of England, not to the general who failed in achieving an impossible task. In the defeat of Cornwallis, there was not the shadow of an impeachment on the courage of the soldier or the conduct of the gene- ral. Throughout his later life, there was no position of ardent responsibility in which the eyes of men were not directed to him. As ambassador he could not command peace to a power which spurned peace. As Lord Lieu- tenant of Ireland, of Ireland in her most critical days, he alone stood above the base means used to achieve that ne- cessary work, the Union. Amid the wide wreck of honour, he was still the soul of honour. Through the midst of it he stood aloof; his name was unsoiled, unattainted ; he could despise alike those who bought and those who sold. The fame of Cornwallis alone survives without an aspersion, without a suspicion. He alone strove to miti- gate the atrocities of civil war. When mercy was on all sides an exploded virtue, he dared to be merciful. His life at that trying period has been boldly thrown open, and baffles the most jealous censure. 1 As Governor-General of India (twice he held that arduous office, once in the prime of life, the last time to expire at a good old age on his viceregal throne), he laboured with primitive wisdom to repress the dominant grasping rapacity and insolent 1 Memoirs of Cornwallis, by Charles Ross. INDIAN WARKIORS. 487 contempt of our native subjects, and to fix the foundations CHAP. of our empire in the grateful affection, the wealth, and > A-l prosperity of the realm of India. He strove to rule India not as a conquered country, but as a province of our em- pire ; for the benefit of our subjects, as for the interests of their masters. Of our earlier Indian warriors we have only one, Gene- ral Gillespie, who fell before an obscure fortress on the frontiers of Nepaul. But of later times, the image of one of an illustrious brotherhood, Sir Charles Napier, the conqueror of Scinde, is there. Napiers are inseparable, and not far off stands his brother, his biographer (himself as brave, perhaps as able, though not so fortunate in high command, but even more renowned as the great military historian of England) . Sir William Napier's ' Peninsular War ' might entitle him alone to an honour open alike to men of action and men of letters. With these bold, stirring brothers is one of the most un- ambitious of men. Twice the great dignity of Governor- General of India of India, where he had passed his most useful life, and filled the highest posts with such con- summate and acknowledged ability not only by the au- thorities, but by general acclamation, was offered to Mountstuart Elphinstone, 'which he did twice put back. ' Was this ambition ? ' He preferred quiet, to retire, having, as he thought, done his work in his native land ; beloved of many, the most attached of friends, and devoted to letters ; to be the historian rather than the ruler of India. The latest, not least distinguished, of our Indian heroes is Sir Henry Lawrence, a name gloriously connected with the most terrible crisis which seemed to strike our empire to its base. The dark history of Lucknow is in- 488 MILITAKY HEROES. CHAP, separably bound up with the name of Sir Henry Law- -r ' rence. His death is the saddest, at the same time the most noble, deed of those disastrous days. We have two also who aspired to be, not the civil but the religious conquerors of India, her two first Bishops. Middleton was a scholar, perhaps hardly the man, not- withstanding his many excellent qualities, for such an enterprise. His successor, Reginald Heber, my early friend, by the foot of whose statue I pass so often, not without emotion, to our services, had he not been cut off by untimely death, might by his love-winning Christianity, his genius and devoted zeal, have made a deep impres- sion on the natives, as he did on the Anglo-Indian mind. None was ever marked so strongly for a missionary bishop in the fabled and romantic East as Reginald Heber. III. Our warriors, our military men of fame and dis- tinction, crowd upon us, as it were, from every quarter of the globe. The first in point of time, the defender of Gibraltar, Lord Heathfield, who repelled from that rock almost the whole forces of two kingdoms, with all the power of artillery and engineering, which, at the most lavish cost, was then at the command of the art of war. We have then Sir Thomas Dundas, to whom the House of Commons voted a monument for his services in the West Indies, in 1794. Later is one to Sir Isaac Brock, who fell before Queens- town, in Upper Canada. The sands of Egypt drank the lifeblood of Sir Ralph Abercromby, on whom the hopes of the nation rested as the general most likely to cope with France, in the long warfare which was spreading out before us. At Corunna fell, then our surviving hope, Sir John Moore Moore, whose valour and military skill and lofty character live in the undying pages of Napier. Then began the career of the Invincible, as he is called HEROES OF THE PENINSULAR WAR. 489 by some, the ' Iron Duke.' The war in Spain expands CHAT. before us. In that succession of victories, every battle- _L-,1-1_ field, every siege, furnished the sacrifice of some noble life, and was inscribed on the pedestal of the statue or monument erected to the memory of those who fell for their country : TALAVEEA. Those of Mackenzie and Langwerth. ALBTJERA. Hoghton and Sir W. Myers. CIUDAD RODRIGO. Craufurd and Mackinnon. SALAMANCA. Bowes and Le Marchant. VITTORIA. Cadogan. BAYONUE. Andrew Hay. There were men who fell on less glorious fields, but fell no less gallantly I- AT BERGEN OP ZOOM. Skerrett and Gore. AT NEW ORLEANS. Pakenham and Gibbs. NEAR BALTIMORE. Robert Ross. In the crawning days of Waterloo, the close of that twenty years of strife : Ponsonby and Picton. The remains of this last remarkable man were removed, from the desecrated burial-ground of S. Martin's-in-the- 490 MONUMENTS TO CIVILIANS. CHAP. Fields, and repose under a flat stone inscribed with his XIX , ^ ' name in the vestibule of the chapel, dedicated to the fame of his commander, the Great Duke. There is a Crimean monument, to eight officers of the Coldstream Guards, over which wave the colours of their regiment. The inscription says : Brothers in arms, in glory, and in death, They were buried in one grave. The names of these heroes, Vesey Dawson, Granville Elliott, Lionel Mackinnon, Murray Cowell, Henry M. Bouverie, Frederick Ramsden, Edward Disbrowe, C. Hu- bert Greville, are inscribed on the same marble. There is a monument by Baron Marochetti to Sir A. W. Torrens, an officer of high distinction and usefulness ; and one, in my judgment, of much merit, by Noble, to the officers and men of the 77th Regiment. IY. Of the civilians to whom monuments or statues have been raised in S. Paul's, four, who occupy the places of honour, at each corner of the dome Howard, Dr. John- son, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Sir W. Jones have been already named. Besides these are two to distinguished members of the medical profession Dr. Babington, long known in the City of London, and Sir Astley Cooper, famous through- out England, and indeed Europe, for his surgical skill. Besides that of Sir Joshua, there is a statue of Turner, great in landscape, as Sir Joshua in the other branches of the art. Our statesmen repose in the Abbey, but Baron Maro- chetti was permitted, in one of the alcoves of the nave, full freedom for his powers of invention and 'execution. How far the vast mass of black marble representing the gates of the Sepulchre, with the two angels, by its side, in white marble, will perpetuate his fame, may be left to the judgement of posterity. The monument is to the memory MONUMENT TO VISCOUNT MELBOURNE. 491 of Viscount Melbourne and his brother, a distinguished CHAP. XIX diplomatist. Assuredly Viscount Melbourne worthily takes ^~- his place in this assemblage of our great men as the wise adviser (her Prime Minister) of our Queen, when, hardly emerging from childhood, she ascended the throne of this kingdom. That reign so happily commenced, in perfect harmony with, and in growing reverence for, the principles of our constitution, so happily continued in the same enlightened course, so, we trust and feel confident, to be continued to its close, may justly cast back some grate- ful honour upon him who had, if we may thus speak, the delicate and arduous office of initiating our sovereign in the duties of her throne duties so fully, so faithfully, so wisely administered. I never consented to any proposal to erect a monument in S. Paul's with less hesitation or with such perfect conscientiousness than to the admission of Viscount Melbourne into our Valhalla. There remains one other name, that of Henry Hallam, the historian of the middle ages, of the constitution of Eng- land, of the literature of Europe. And what name among modern men of letters is more illustrious than the name, dear to me, from long reverential friendship, of Hallam. Statesman as well as warrior, the Duke of Wellington closed, for a time at least (may it lengthen out to the crack of doom !), the line of English worthies. When Wellington, full of years, descended to the grave, the first thought was that he should repose by the side of Nelson. But this was impossible, Nelson could not be removed from his central position under the dome ; and Nelson's brothers in naval glory, the commanders of the vanguard and rearguard at Trafalgar, Collingwood and Lord Nor- thesk, lay on either side ; his nephew near him. But to the East, the place of honour, as one who right- fully took the lead in all the arrangements, instantaneously 492 FUNERAL OF WELLINGTON. CHAP, observed, was what may be described as a second chapel. , Nelson was left in undisputed posession of his own ; the second was devoted to Wellington. Nelson had fallen in the hour of victory ; from the deck of his ship riding on the blood-red billows off Cape Tra- falgar, he had been conveyed, while the emotions of the people were at their highest pitch of sad excitement and proud exultation, to the crypt at S. Paul's. Above thirty years had elapsed since the crowning victory of Waterloo before the Duke of Wellington was borne to his rest in the same crypt. But though Assaye, the Peninsula, and Waterloo had receded into the past, might seem almost to belong to a former generation, yet the pride and admira- tion of England had only gathered and concentred itself more faithfully and admiringly around the Great Duke. It is somewhat remarkable that I, who as an undistin- guished boy witnessed the burial of Lord Nelson, should officiate, as Dean of S. Paul's, at the funeral of the Duke of Wellington. The funeral of the Duke of Wellington lives in the memory of most of the present generation. Nothing could be more impressive than the sad, silent reverence of the whole people of London, of all orders and classes, as the procession passed through the streets. But this concerns not S. Paul's. In the Cathedral, time had not been allowed to carry out the design as proposed by the authorities. The interior was to have been entirely dark, except from arti- ficial light, lines of which were to trace out all the lines of the architecture. This was thought far more impres- sive than the dull dubious light of a November day. But the daylight was, from haste, but imperfectly excluded, and the solemn effect of illuminating the whole building, with every arch, and the dome in its majestic circle, was SCENE UNDER THE DOME. 493 in some degree marred. So ill indeed had the time been CHAP. XIX measured, that on the morning of the funeral hundreds . of workmen had to be dismissed and discharged from the Cathedral. Yet the scene under the dome (for under the dome the ceremony was to take place) was in the highest degree im- posing. The two Houses of Parliament assembled in full numbers. On the north side of the area the House of Commons ; behind these, filling up the north transept, the Civic authorities, the City Companies, and the members of the Corporation. On the south side of the area, the 1 Peers ; behind them, the clergy of the Cathedral, and their friends. The foreign ambassadors sate on seats extend- ing to the organ gallery. Every arcade, every available space, was crowded; from 12,000 to 15,000 persons (it was difficult closely to calculate) were present. The body was received by the Bishop and the Dean, and the Clergy, with the choir, at the west door, and conducted to the central area under the dome, on which shone down the graceful coronal of light which encircled the dome under the Whispering Gallery. The pall was borne by eight of the most distinguished General-Officers who had survived the wars of their great commander, or other glorious wars in which their country had been engaged. The chief mourner was, of course, the Duke of Wel- lington, with the Prince Consort, and others of the royal family. The service was the simple burial service of the Church of England, with the fine music now wedded to that ser- vice, and other music, including an anthem of a very high order, composed by the organist, Mr. Goss. The prayers and lessons were read by the Dean. And here must be a final tribute to the memory of Sir Christopher Wren. Of all architects, Wren alone, either 494 SARCOPHAGUS OF WELLINGTON. CHAP, from intuition or from philosophic discernment, has pene- XIX .-!.., .'-s trated the abstruse mysteries of acoustics, has struck out the laws of the propagation of sound. I have been as- sured, on the highest musical authority, that there is no building in Europe equal for sound to S. Paul's. My voice was accordingly heard distinctly in every part of the building, up to the western gallery, by the many thousands present, though the whole was deadened by walls of heavy black cloth which lined every part. Nothing could be imagined more solemn than the responses of all the thousands present, who repeated, as had been suggested, the words of the Lord's Prayer. It fulfilled the sub- lime biblical phrase, ' Like the roar of many waters,' only that it was clear and distinct; the sad combined prayer, as it were, of the whole nation. The gradual disappearance of the coffin, as it slowly sunk into the vault below, was a sight which will hardly pass away from the memory of those who witnessed it. And so, not by the side, but in his own alcove, in the chapel prepared in his honour, rested with Nelson he who, as Nelson closed the naval triumphs, closed, over a far mightier adversary, the military campaigns of the great European wars. The sarcophagus which, after some time, was prepared to receive the remaitis of Wellington, was in perfect cha- racter with that great man. A mass of Cornish porphyry, wrought in the simplest and severest style, unadorned, and because unadorned more grand and impressive ; in its grave splendour, and, it might seem, time-defying solidity, emblematic of him who, unlike most great men, the more he is revealed to posterity, shows more sub- stantial, unboastful, unquestionable greatness. SARCOPHAGUS OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. SCHEME FOR THE DECORATION OF S. PAUL'S. 495 ' SINCE the death of Sir Christopher Wren, nothing what- CHAP. ' ever, I believe, at least nothing important, had been done , L ' till the present day for the completion and decoration of ' the interior of S. Paul's Cathedral. Even the windows ' are probably the temporary windows introduced by Wren, ' till others more suited to the architecture and dignity of ' the building could take their place. With the exception * of the restoration of Sir James Thornhill's paintings in ' the cupola, under the circumstances, as I am now inclined ' to think, an injudicious application of labour and funds, ' no work of any magnitude was undertaken. It would ' seem as if the immense sum required had appalled the ' imagination, and checked all desire to embark upon any ' extensive scheme of improvement. The first light of a ' new day arose from the wish to render the Cathedral more ' available for its primary object, the worship of God.' With this aim in view the Bishop of London had addressed a communication to the Dean and Chapter urging upon them the advisability of instituting a series of special evening services for the benefit of those large masses of the people whom it might be impossible to attract in any other way. Dean Milman, in his own name and that of the Chapter, replied to the Bishop on February 1, 1858. After expressing their ' earnest, unanimous, and sincere ' desire to cooperate to the utmost of their power in the ' promotion of religious worship and the preaching of * the word of God in the metropolis, especially as regards * those classes for which such services are more particularly ' designed,' the letter goes on to discuss the practicability of the plan and the best methods of carrying it out, pointing out at the same time the difficulties which would inevitably arise from the scantiness of the funds which could be applied to such a purpose. After a clear demon- stration of their insufficiency to provide for such changes 496 LETTER OF DEAN MILMAN. CHAP, as would be absolutely necessary unless aided by the ' reli- - , '' ' gious zeal and liberality of this vast and unprecedentedly wealthy metropolis,' the Dean continued : ' I do not wish ( to disguise my further views. It has been the dearest ' wish of my heart, since I have had the honour of filling ' the high station of Dean of S. Paul's, to see not one ' narrow part alone of this great building applied to its ' acknowledged purposes, the worship of God and the ' Christian instruction of the people; but besides this, ' that, instead of the cold, dull, unedifying, unseemly ap- ' pearance of the interior, the Cathedral should be made ' within worthy of its exterior grandeur and beauty. That ' exterior, I presume to say, from its consummate design, ' in its style of architecture, is the noblest church in Chris- * tian Europe the masterpiece of our great British archi- ' tect, Sir Christopher Wren ; the glory, it should be the ' pride, of the city of London, of the Christian people of ' the realm. I should wish to see such decorations intro- ' duced into S. Paul's as may give some splendour, while ' they would not disturb the solemnity, or the exquisitely ' harmonious simplicity, of the edifice ; some colour to ' enliven and gladden the eye, from foreign or native ( marbles, the most permanent and safe modes of embel- ' lishing a building exposed to the atmosphere of Lon- ' don. I would see the dome, instead of brooding like a ' dead weight over the area below, expanding and eleva- ' ting the soul towards heaven. I would see the sullen ( white of the roof, the arches, the cornices, the capitals, * and the walls, broken and relieved by gilding, as we find ( it by experience the most lasting, as well as the most ' appropriate decoration. 2 I would see the adornment ' carried out in a rich but harmonious (and as far as pos- * After the experiments which have been made, to marble and gilding Mosaics would now probably have been added. I THE SPECIAL EVENING SERVICES. 497 * sible from gaudy) style, in unison with our simpler form ' of worship/ In pursuance of the double motive indicated by this letter an appeal was made and a committee was appointed, which from its first formation was supported by many of the leading merchants and bankers of the city, and comprised within its numbers, among other eminent members, several of the great architects of the day, Mr. Cockerell and Sir Charles Barry, ' whose admir- ation of the genius of Wren was of the highest,' Mr. Tite, and Mr. Penrose. The first object was the adaptation of the building for public worship on a larger and more comprehensive scale ; the second was the completion and decoration of the interior, so that it might be brought into more thorough harmony with the exterior, and together they might form one grand concordant whole. Towards ,the former of these noble ends much has been done, the church has been effectually warmed, the area for the ac- commodation of worshippers has been greatly enlarged, a magnificent organ has been purchased for use at the special evening services and other ceremonials. With what success these various improvements have been re- warded may be seen in the immense congregations of earnest and devout worshippers, who throng to the Cathedral, throughout even the coldest, wildest nights of the winter months. Towards the other portion of the scheme something also has been accomplished, though in spite of munificent donations, 3 such as that of the great West window by Mr. T. Brown perhaps little if com- pared with what yet remains to be effected. The good work has, however, been inaugurated ; and although Dean Milman was well aware that he could never live to see its conclusion, yet he was full of hope that, a beginning once 8 See in Appendix a full statement of the various special gifts which have been made to S. Paul's. K K 498 CONCLUSION. made, it would commend itself ever more and more to public favour and piety ; and that the day would assuredly come, when the great design would be worthily achieved, when the last finishing grace would be given to that glorious fabric which he so ardently admired. APPENDICES. APPENDIX A. (Page 69.) CATALOGUE OP THE BOOKS OP EICHABD GRAVESEND IN HIS GABDEEOBA. . rf. 1 Bible, in 13 volumes 10 1 Bible . 400 1 Little Bible 100 1 Registrum Jeronimi super bibliam 100 1 Tractatus Bernard! super cantica canticorum . . .100 1 Homelise Petri Ravanensia 10 1 Psalterium Glossatum . . . . . . .100 1 Psalterium cuni veteri glossa .050 1 Psalterium 10 1 Historia ecclesiastica Eusebii Csesariensis . . 13 4 1 Postilla super Johannis Apocalips. . . . . 10 1 Omelise antiques 060 1 SummaDriton . . . . . . . .020 1 Vetus Psalterium cum miraculis B. M. V. . . .030 1 Secunda pars summee Alex, de Hales . . . 10 1 Distinctiones Mauricii 13 4 1 Summa Magri Willi de Altisidor 030 1 Pastorale Gregorii 030 1 Epistol. Jeronimi 10 1 Omelise Gregorii et Bede . . . . . . 10 1 Lectura fris (fratris) Willi. de Alton, super Matheum . 040 3 Omeliae super Evangelia 040 1 Summa Johannis de deo de impugnatione libelli . .030 1 Omelise Gregorii super Evangelium . . . .060 1 Tractatus Jeronimi de laudibus et transitu B. Virginia . 050 1 Liber Augustini de fide et legibus 030 1 Antiques expositiones super Apocalips 020 1 Tractatus inter spiritum et animam et liber questionum . 030 1 Historia Scholastica 060 1 Liber de vita Hugonis quondam Lincoln. Epis. et. Liber Memorabilium de diversis sanctis . . . .040 1 Zacarias super Evangelia 10 1 Plures tractatus et libelli de diversis eermonibua . . 1 10 6 1 Interpretationes cum concordantiis . . . , .068 1 Liber parvus concordant . . . . . . .030 502 APPENDIX A. 1 4 . d. 1 1 Epistolse Pauli glossatae Compilatio magistralis de diversis auctoritatibus super 1 6 5 8 1 1 1 1 Sermones Gilbert! de Tornac. ad omnem statum Sermones dominicales ....... Distinctiones super Bibliam . . . o 10 3 6 10 8 1 1 1 1 1 Tractatus fris. Bertti de proprietatibus rerum . Tractatus Isidori Abraulian. Epi Distinctiones novse super Bibliam Pastorale Gregorii . 1 10 6 6 2 8 8 1 9> 17 1 6 13 .\ 1 6 13 4 1 fj 13 .1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Aliae decretales veteres . . Summa Ostiensis in ij. volum. ..... I. Par. decretorum . . . . ... Summa Innocentii Textus sexti libri decretorum Summa Gaufredi super Jure Canonico .... Casus decretorum cum reportorio Martiniani . 2 13 5 2 1 6 13 3 6 6 fi 8 4 8 8 8 1 1 1 1 1 Summa Johannis Ferentini Summa Ranfredi super Jure Canonico cum aliis duobus parvis summulis ........ Tractatus cujusdam fris. praedicatoris super decret. . Speculum judiciale et reporter, ejusdem 1 3 90 13 5 6 4 8 1 1 1 1 1 Libellus institutionum . . ... Liber Avicennse Liber naturall. Collectarium cum graduali Evangelium cum graduali ...... 5 4 3 10 10 68 Summa 116 14 6 Inde legati. Liberat. ex legat. 1 Biblia in xiij. voluminibus pretii x. 1. magistro Stephano de Gravesend. (et i. Par. decre- torum pret. vi. xiij. iv. Magistro R. de Newport Archid. Midd. ex legato lit pa'tet in testamento. Et petunt executores sibi allocari de libro naturalium die. pretii donat. de suprascriptis cuidam pauperi scholar! pro anima defuncti. APPENDIX A. 503 Summa petitionis et allocationis iij. s. et sic reinanet de claro xix. li. xviij. s. ii. d. de quibus habent executores respondere. s. d. 99 18 2 Balance. 10 Legacy. 6 13 4 Do. 030 Gift to Poor Scholar. 116 14 6 Both. Newport and Stephen Gravesend were afterwards Bishops of London. Newport, 1317; Stephen Gravesend, 1318 to 1338. I subjoin the value of some of the other effects, and the price of corn at that time. s. d. Vasa argentea 214 13 11 Ornaments of the Chapel 184 18 8 Jocalia . . . 637 Rob 34 2 6 Lectualia . 15 4 8 Tapetse / , ; 121810 Equi 27 . 49 13 8 Wheat . * i . . 4s. Qd. per quarter. Barley .... ... 3s. 6d. Pease . . . . . . 2. Qd. Oats . 2. Qd. 504 I t2 CQ O o < w o w s ^ ^g i ^7^0 ^PM S CQ ropert th the of the tntuojan nnurBioqos SU^SI&BK snquocespij snqi^uaiAjas Btjsuoqo snJoiA siUBpunoag StUBHadBQ uoRO mouaio i ' G G ft _ to SIOIUOUBQ enquonip[ 00 ' ^ S ^ M CO OO M< O O ! ~> 507 Persons or Property charged with the Payment of the Obit 4 'C '2 | i \ f a + 'i s 1-1 i o> a T3 fC p^-" 'S fl^^ '"sTs g'ol g -g * Oi M O r ^ s^ frllj W 5' c 2 2 Ei 11 | 2 J 1 8^ ^Jfe OQR J mentis W. Eectoris de Bas- singshawe T)f> rorlrlitii rivitdtis viz. fin Priore de Newark TpnAns Hnrnns (vr niistmli T S^ 3 = S - 1! epc 8.4 E ( ' _ 1 ! - 1 (. < i e P sis 1$ ^ggc^g ^ -^ r-- ^ g ^ g^pq^o g. umjoaanj 'A 'S 3 saaadnBj; py ap spuaio esisaioog; SBOUqB.1 oc s " OUBU 5 - s ^ c? C Cs i & lSo . -K> siouaio DO umpmauaag snqiaopjBf) | apsiojuoS fe Bnn,n1d"o 5 S B snquaBSinj S o snqnuaiAjas h swsuoqo S BIUBOIA fl "2KSS siouaio : e " S r- S _ : ' C or C ' BJOIUOUBO spmotruQ : I ^ - f- i rS >t 5 .2 i !z 2 r- M ~ X j, s e > t 1 0^ (X t -<* m celebrated o 1 ! 1 translationis imac Mart. us de Eisinge i Chausepruse o 1 o> a 1 1 5 fl j3 B ^2 m ^^ O H 1 s ^ o5 53 -3 ^ s i f ^ ^ s S3 M IH 2 d d 11 D o ,_; l-H ^ M >5 > r* W w S " o ^ 00 ep spuaio ansapog ounu jSSo 1 8 ' spuaiQ 1? Bnqiuopjo 1 aSai op stoiuoireo "J t> i- *) e? r 1 siomouuo stiquouiH c r- GC c ^~ gioraonoo r- < ^ c ^t " c ! r e > t- ? C c>. " tiniuins For whom celebrated < -= a ^ 4 T: 1 "I 4 tt 4 z 1 * O< c 1 C 1 i i g | 5 '1 1 ^ J > E- j * S ' 4 n a 4 i 1 1 ! 1 ! J ! 1 ! a < h- ; '/ j j a ' J i s SS r: -s T: H- i- *- h t i 7 i i ' 1 J r H 1 >- H- e' > H 1 ^- **: 1 ^ " I 1 S- ev 510 -S . I . ' ratuoaanj A 'a saradnej py seisapog; asouqisj srrjippaH SnqjUOpIBf) op spraoireo rani's [Oi[og snqtraatAJag 8IUBOTA sitrepunoeg siouaio snquontpi spiuoneo snquoCuN ar ts x tj t-H > ?* S w pert the e h with ment o o- 511 .* r- o A -a ep 8pu9|p esisgpog ajouqe.j OIXBU. wjsucms enqraoiOJBf) *IT!A spraouBO snquompt ndar bits A I J S s (SO 11 s I 512 LIST OF OBITS IN S. PAUL'S continued. Persons or Property charged with the Payment of the Obit j! iifl| umiojanj; unun^A PV i 'A '3 uarani pv i saradnnj py | apspSo c * i aeisapog; asouqis.j ! -XsomSra sn^.ipp9}j TJO3.O9IJOQ : cB^SUO'Bg o tntll^.TI9IAJ]93 o 9p StOTUOTTBO c?" : uin.njjoiiog suisiStJT^r o ; i snqu O ix g (y cb M fe 1 1 1 1 m X F i B 4 ] S -" "8 || So "3 ! i K M S Si 5 a > 2 1 S i X 4 1 o CC CD t^OO J C5 C* Persons or Property charged with the Payment of the Oidt a ' ' > .-",!,, K rn ? 2 G C " P B C 3) a> ;/J 5 " O*r*f-^)oC3 ^*O cjo * F- -^ _y ^ rz- ti i^r n * || l3~eJ- s Ts-3 11 k 11 -1 O^-p^o.jO'-o-S.-, PQ '^'Sjc' 'f -|.!|^|||| If 1 .|U- : |! o "s *.s 'S 4P^ ^ - a.-" ^ P J IWlljIfld - |-s ' s -s1 -g ai i- 2 ^"^ C*H p^.^o . J^ 3 '^ o prt_,-'X'i^-'' (Ocic3 OT2 CCr ^ _2 g r^^ : - C fiC CH S^S'9'3 f 9 g ^3 'S-s s S |.lg-S^1.al|| Ills 8*11 s Ill.-l^^gJ a ^^^^^^ , ranjoaand nrejn^saA PY A -a uarani py - saiadnua: PV O|nQI^.S9A 8p 910LI91Q 2 ersa|oog; aeouqB.ii J ou-BH 00 CO t B|3|J9|Q : ^TOraj^j ^ 4 CO ap sTDiuotreo i imnlSo . i J ^uSH ! snquo^wini : snqrjuaiAjas 2 00 ertsuoqo 01 : StUBOIA r : srtrepnnoag r : siouato S 1 a " ^ ; f- s s'SS : o" r-l ; ; BTOtnoxreo i *" "2" * 52. S- CD ^ > s co : 5 S S S S _ APPENDIX B. 515 The foregoing list of obits is that contained in the ' Statuta Minora,' a small folio volume on vellum written prior to the year 1317. This additional list is supplied from a copy of the statutes transcribed by the authority of Dean Lyseux in 1440, and now preserved in the library of the University of Cambridge. It is interesting as showing the continuance and progress of the Obit system during a period of about 130 years. In the great majority of cases the persons whose Obits were celebrated have been identified, and the year of their death ascertained, but some have escaped the search. 19 Kal. Jan. 1327 Thomas Northflete. 10 Kal. Jan. 1421 ^.Thomas More. 7 Idus Jan. 1327 Galfridus de Eton, 6 Idus Jan. 1319 Walterus Thorp. 5 Idus Jan. 1405 Rogerus Walden. 18 Kal. Feb. 1365 Willielmus de Everdune. 2 Non. Feb. Johannes Fabell. 4 1390 Johannes Dux Lancastrise. 8 Idus Mar. Ricardus Grene. 5 Kal. April. 1353. Gilbertus de Bruera. 6 Idus April. 1337.. Stephanus Gravesend. Non. Mail Nicolas Wokingdon. Kal. Junii 1330 Henricus de Saracenis. 9 Kal. Junii Johannes Comes Pembrokias. 6 Idus Junii 1349 Johannes Pulteney. 2 Non. Julii 1189 Henricus Rex Secundus. . 1424 Nicholas Epis. London. 9 Non. Aug. Martinus Elys. 14 Kal. Sept. 1361 Walterus Nele. 17 Kal. Sept. 1323 Jacobus Frysell. 2 Idus Sept. 1369 Blanchia Comitissa Lancastrian. Idus Sept. 1337 Nicholas Husbonde. 2 Kal. Oct. 1330 Willielmus Milford. 7 Idus Oct. 1321 William Chateshunte. 6 Idus Oct. 1400 Thomas de Euer. 8 Kal. Nov. - Walterus Blokley. 4 Idus Oct. 1329 Rogerus Waltham. 15 Kal. Dec. - Willielmus Nortlifelde. 1339 Ricardus de Bentworth, 14 Kal. Dec. 1399 Thomas Stowe. LI. 2 APPENDIX B (2). (Page 153.) EECEPTA DE PIXIDE CRUCIS BOREALIS POST FESTUM SANCTI MICHAELIS ANNO ETC. XLII (1342). Recepta de pixide prsedicta die Martis xxii. die Oct. presents Hotham et Feriby viz. in sterlingis et obolis .... Item die Martis in crastino S. Martini pne- sentibus Hotham et Feriby in sterlingis et obolis Item die Martis iii. die Decembris praesen- tibus Evendon et Feriby Item die Dominica in festo Sancti Mart, in- fra Natalem domini, prsesentibus Hotham et Feriby circiter . . . s. d. 17 14 15 9 16 6 15 cum obolis ANNO XLIII. INCIPIENTE. Item die Dominica xxv. die Januarii prse- sentibus Hotham et Feriby Item Item, die Veneris die Februarii. prsesentibus Hotham et Feriby Item penultina die Februarii et tres floreni . . . scut, pavilion. Item xv. die mensis Marcii Item 12 florens pavilion. De dono Isabellas Littere pro anima viri sui Johannis Littere et Johannis de . . .rill . Item die Sancti Ambrosii .... Item xvi. die Aprilis Item nuper et prius extracti iii. die Mai Item prsesentibus Reymer et Feriby ix. die Mai in sterlingis et obolis Item prsesentibus Reymer et Feriby die Sabbati xxiv. Maii Item prsesentibus Hotham et Feriby die Lune ii. Junii ..... Item die Dominica viii. die Junii Item die Jovis xxvi. die Junii prsesentibus Reymer et Feriby Item prsesentibus Reymer et Feriby die Veneris xi. die July. .... Item prsesentibus Reymer et Feriby die Sabbati viii. die Auguwti 1343 Et memorandum quod dominus Walterus custos oblationum ibidem liberavit in tbesaurario prsesentibus Hotham et Feriby diversos annulos auri et argenti. 13 10 26-8 11 14 prseter ferlingos fractos 14 9 18 100 16 13 4 18 14 prseter argentum fractum 22 17- 15 prseter argentum fractum 16 10 21 praeter argentum fractum 17 3 4 14 APPENDIX B. ol7 RECEPTA DE TRUNCO CRUCIS ANNO ETC. XLIHI. s. d. Recepta de cruce xxvi. die August. . . 16 Item praesentibus Decano et Clacton Vigilia S. Matt. Apos 16 17 5 Item prassentibus Hotham et Ferity ii. die Octobris. . . . . . . 14 11 6 prseter argentum fractum Item prsesentibus Decano et Feriby xxiv. die Octobria 15 et ob. Item prsesentibus Hotham et Feriby v. die Novembris . . . . . , 11 in sterlingis obolis et quad- ran tibus Item prassentibus Hotham et Feriby xxv. dieNovemb 16 5 Et tres floreni de scutis Item praesentibus Hotham et Feriby xxii. die Decembris . . . . . 15 13 4 Item prsesentibus Decano Hotham et Clacton vii. die Januarii 700 Item prsesentibus Hotham et Feriby xxx. die Januarii 15 2 Item prsesentibus Hotham et Feriby xxx. die Februarii 15 10 Item 1 flor. de Florence et 1 de scuto Item Recept.de truncocrucisxiiii. die Martin. 16 4 Item praesentibus Feriby et Clacton die Sabbati in vigilia paschse, 344 . . 20 12 8 Item praesentibus Hotham et Feriby die Mercurii xxiv. April . . . . 16 11 Item 6 florens de scuto Item prsesentibus Hotham et Feriby die Veneris in crastino Ascensionis . . 16 prseter argentum fractum Item prsesentibus Hotham et Feriby eodem die v. florins de scuto Item prsesentibus Hotham et Feriby xxiv. die Maii 16 ob. preeter argen- tum fractum Item per decanum et Clacton xii. die Junii 19 Item praesentibus Hotham et Feriby die Jovis i. Julii 18 Et tres flori. auri Item prsesentibus Hotham et Feriby xiii. Julii . 12 Item praesentibus Hotham et Feriby vii. die Augusti 1(3 12 Item praesentibus Hotham Clacton et Feriby ix. die Septembris et prius una vice mense Augusto proximo preterito . . . 28 Item de eadem pixide dictis duobus vicibus 1 floren. de scuto et v. flor. ob. Angli 518 APPENDIX B. s. d. Item prassentibus Alano de Hotbam et Johanne de Clacton xiv. Kal. Octob. . 15 6 Eodem die de eadem pixide unum flo- renum pretii vi. S. Item prsesentibus Alano de Hotbam et Jobanne de Clacton xxx. Septembris . 15 3 4 In illustration of tbis interesting document, containing tbe account of the oblations made during two years from Michaelmas, 1342, to Martinmas, 1344, it may be stated tbat the crucifix to which was attached the pixis for the receipt of tbe offerings, was in the transept near tbe north door, which was probably, as at present, tbe entrance to tbe Cathedral most in use. The pixis was emptied of its con- tents at no fixed intervals, and not so often as once a fortnight. It would seem that two Canons were present on these occasions, and that tbe time of opening tbe pixis was tbat which suited their per- sonal convenience. The monies received from this and other pixides formed a part of the revenues of the Dean and Residentiaries, called the Communa. The value of tbe oblations at tbis cross on the two years amounted to 647 6s. 7d. in silver, besides forty-one and a half florins in gold. The account is kept in a, d. librae, solidi, denarii tbe pound and solidus being monies of account, and the only coin being the penny, which, broken, supplied the halfpenny and the quadrans or farthing. The frequent mention of ' argentum fractum,' not carried to account as pence or halfpence, would lead to tbe supposition tbat very small fragments of the penny were frequently amongst the offerings. At tbia time tbe coined penny nearly approached the pennyweight, twenty- four grains ; a pound of silver in weight containing two hundred and forty pennies. It is remarkable that though the number of florins found on each occasion is distinctly noted, tbe value of them is not carried to account in s. d., though in one instance tbe florin is said to be of tbe value of six shillings. These florins were all of them, though not always so described in tbe account, coins of gold. Those described as ' de scuto,' having the impress of a shield, and as ' scut-pavilion ' (a shield and pavilion under which the figure of the sovereign is sitting), were of foreign mintage ; but the English florins, five and a half, found in the pixis on the ninth of September, were of the new gold coinage of that year, 1344. A specimen of the half florin is in the collection of the British Museum. These gold coins were unpopular, and were not a legal tender for any sum under twenty shillings. We learn from tbe Patent Roll, 2 Ric. II., that the common name of tbe English penny or ' denarius ' was ' sterlingus.' In tbe above document, the receipt is de- scribed as so many pounds ' in sterlings and half-pence ; ' a phrase which seems to explain the term ' a pound sterling ' to mean a pound of sterlings, or 240 pence. W. H. H. APPENDIX C. (Page 497.) Memorandum and Statement by Mr. Penrose, Surveyor to the FabricJi, showing the general scheme for the decoration and completion of the interior, the works which have already been executed, together with the names of particular donors and benefactors to the church. THE object )f primary importance with the Dean and Chapter and with those who have co-operated with them during the last ten years in th completion of the interior of S. Paul's Cathedral has been to eilarge its capacity and convenience for divine service. Secondirily to adorn it in a manner worthy of the noble framework if its architecture and of the intentions of Sir Christopher Wreix whose general views in this respect have been recorded, altiough but little is known in detail of the manner in which IB would have carried them out if he had not fallen in his latter diys upon evil times and evil tongues. The first object appears to have been satisfactorily attained. The second, althougl up to this present time greatly impeded by want of funds has ben so far inaugurated as to insure, it may be hoped, its ultimate achievement. The coldness of tb> aspect of the interior was proverbial ; it needed paintings botl on the walls and in the windows, marbles and gilding. In all tlese a commencement has been made. It is scarcely desirable tiat the interior of S. Paul's should rival S. Peter's at Rome in axuberance of ornament, but no one can doubt that a great deal of colour and rich material is requisite if it is to assert its properplace among the most remarkable build- ings in the world. Towards attaining tls end it has been kept in view that a little properly done is beter than large surfaces of inferior orna- ment, and, consequentl} Munich windows, paintings in im- perishable mosaic, and narbles of the choicest kinds have been used in preference to c.eaper materials and more expeditious methods. The scheme in general may be divided into three parts, that which has been done ; tht which it seems most desirable to go 520 APPENDIX C. on with at once ; and that which may ultimately by proper public support be accomplished. A few more words in the first instance on this last-mentioned and more extended view of the subject may be useful to explain the proposal in general. The interior of the cathedral, as it might appear in the imagi- nation of the sanguine, presents itself thus. Coming in at the great west door, we enter the nave, of which the original severity is not altogether subdued. Still it is enlivened to some extent by inlaid marbles in the wall-panels, and by the improved glazing of the windows on the north and south sides, into which some colour has been introduced, yet not so as to interfere with the admission of the full breadth of sunlight. The vaults are adorned with gilding and mosaic, and especially the large cupola over the westernmost bay of the nave has a mosaic painting represent- ing on a gold ground, one of the earlier miracles of our Lord. Right and left the beautiful western chapels, that on the north used for early morning prayer, and the other (formerly the Bishop's Consistory Court) now containing fhe elaborate and splendid monument to the Duke of Welliigton, are richly ornamented with colour in like materials. Only a portion of the dome is as yet seen, but Mr. Watts' pictures of S. Mark and S. Luke executed in mosaic on the spandrels of the great arches invite the eye in that direction. Farther eastwards the apse is brilliant with its six painted wiidows, while in the tribune itself is seen the marble baldach|io which Sir Chris- topher Wren would himself have constructed if circumstances had been more favourable. Advancing t the dome the eight large spandrel pictures come into view j the four Evangelists, designed by Mr. Watts, and the four maor Prophets, by Mr. Stevens. Above the gilded rails of the (whispering gallery an inscription on a mosaic gold ground taten from the words of S. Paul, surrounds the base of the dome, tn the peristyle, statues have been placed in the empty niches, aid in the dome itself is a great picture suggestive of the heaveiy Jerusalem which has taken the place of Sir James Thornhills grisaille subjects. In the four semi- domes at the intersections of the aisles are repre- sentations of scenes taken from the Qspels, and in the south transept stands the great organ now ctfnpleted, with a case and gallery richly carved and gilt ; standin,', moreover, on a range of monolith columns of fine marble. At he extremity of the norch transept is an internal porch, displacing the inscription com- memorative of Sir Christopher Wren. ' Lector, si rnonumentuin APPENDIX Cf. 521 requiris, circumspice,' which was taken down from the old organ screen and has so long been waiting for restoration. A painted subject from the life of S. Paul fills the great window of the north transept, and the aisle windows at both ends are also painted. Thus the light at the end of each vista is subdued, whilst it is allowed to come in unobstructedly on the sides. Doubtless closer scrutiny will discover other details, and as it cannot be supposed but that many of the objects have been pre- sented by private donors, there will be their armorial bearings and memorial inscriptions to lend an additional interest to the survey. Arriving at the choir, we find a rich but low open screen has replaced the somewhat rude rails near the marble pulpit, and here although we are sensible of a somewhat greater amount of elaboration and colour bestowed upon the walls and clerestory windows than in the nave or transepts, yet the chief interest is centred in the apse. The six noble subjects in the painted windows embodying those six events of paramount mo- ment to Christian faith, which are collected in the verses of our Litany : ' By thine Agony and bloody Sweat, by thy Cross and Passion, by thy precious Death and Burial, by thy glorious Resurrection, and Ascension, and by the Coming of the Holy Ghost,' are now near enough to be minutely examined. The de- tails of the baldachino also are distinguishable, and we perceive behind it and around the tribune a design in marble intarsiatura representing the Last Supper. If we should pass into the aisles of the choir, we may expect to see richly painted windows at the ends,, monuments and other decoration of the panels and vaults, though all subordinate to the greater concentration in the centre. What has been done since the year 1858, when the first works undertaken with this view were commenced, forms, indeed, a great contrast to that which has been thus imagined ; still, how- ever, on comparison with the previous state of the church, it seems to be encouraging. It consists chiefly as follows : 1. In the removal of the screen dividing the choir from the nave, during which operation the organ of the choir, which had occupied the centre of the screen, was removed to the place ori- ginally intended for it by Sir Christopher Wren, and has been greatly increased in compass and power, and at the same time the area available for the ordinary daily service- has been much enlarged. 2. The preparation of the dome for the numerous congrega- tions which attend the special evening and other festival services. 522 APPENDIX C. 3. Combined with these is the effectual warming of the church. 4. The placing a new and powerful organ in the south transept for use in the services under the dome. This noble instrument, however, is incomplete in several particulars and especially in its want of an organ case. 5. The gilding of the railings of the whispering and western gallery internally, and the regilding of the golden gallery and ball and cross, externally. 6. The partial gilding of the vault of the choir and of the arches adjoining the dome. 7. Two mosaic paintings on the spandrels of the dome, being two out of eight pictures intended to represent the four Evan- gelists and the four major Prophets. 8. The large west window filled with historical subjects. This is intended as the precursor of several others in the same style, of which four are in preparation ; uniformity of design and execu- tion being considered absolutely indispensable in the decoration of S. Paul's. 9. Several other windows of a subordinate kind, namely, two at the ends of the aisles westwards, six in the dome, and one in the south aisle of the choir, forming part of the memorial to the late Bishop Blomfield. 10. A marble memorial pulpit. The above-mentioned comprise the principal works which have been executed. The cost of the whole has been about 11,500Z., spent on matters connected with the services, and about 8,500L on the decorations. In progress may be mentioned the four windows already re- ferred to, and the permanent substructure of the great organ in the south transept, for several years supported on a rough timber scaffolding, but for which a portico of six columns with monolith shafts of richly- coloured marbles and of unusual dimen- sions has been provided. Special donors of some of the objects mentioned : Subject. H. F. Vernon, Esq. . A window in aisle . S. Paul. The Rev. J. W. Vivian,) ... , n _ \ A. window in aisle . S. Peter. (The Conversion of S. T. Brown, Esq. . . The west window . \ p , The Drapers' Company A window in apse . The Crucifixion. The Goldsmiths' Com-) . . , ,, r, , j- A window in apse . The Agony in the Garden. APPENDIX C. 523 Subject. N. Rogers, Esq., M.D. . A window in apse . The Resurrection. The Corporation of Lo don . The Worshipful Com- panies of Grocers Merchant Taylors The gilding to the vaults of the choir and arches adjoining the dome. Goldsmiths Mercers Fishmongers The Committee of the^ Memorial to Captain [ The pulpit. Fitzgerald . . j ( The window and inlaid The Committee to thej marbles on the walls Blomfield Memorial . I surrounding the monu- ' ment. The Committee to the\ . I A window in south aisle 1 Mornm-ini tr> fVia lofn wnow n sou ase . , , 3 memorial to tne late I . \ S. Stephen s martyrdom. W. Cotton, Esq. .] of choir . . .) The objects which it is now most important to proceed with are 1. The case of the great organ in the south transept. 2. Permanent fittings at the western extremity of the choir, instead of the present temporary platforms. 3. The completion of the pulpit by means of a proper stair- case and a lectern for the dome services. 4. The re-erection at the end of the north transept of part of the old organ screen for the purpose of forming an internal porch, and at the same time restoring the well-known inscription to the honour of Sir Christopher Wren. Then the six mosaics for the dome spandrels, the three windows of the apse for which no donors have as yet come forward, and two other of the more elaborate windows one, namely, for the end of the north aisle of the choir ; and the other, the prin- cipal window at the end of the north transept ; besides nearly fifty others, which require reglazing and to receive some orna- ment, though of a subordinate character. The completion of Sir Christopher Wren's intentions in the apse, and more suitable wall decorations in that most important part of the church, are also primary objects. These matters easily separate themselves into distinct ele- ments, not more costly individually (with the exception at least of the baldachin o) than some of the special donations already made to the church. INDEX. AIL A ILWARD, or Alfward, Bishop of Lon- -ii. don and Abbot of Evesham, 1 3 Anabaptists, burning of, 196 Anne, Queen, accession of, 428 ; at S. Paul's, 429 ; present at the thanks- giving for Blenheim and other vic- tories, 431 ; statue of, 438 Arundel, Archbishop of York, impeached and banished, 80 ; Primate, and trans- lated to S.- Andrew's, 81 ; holds annual convocations in S. Paul's, pronounces first capital sentence against heretics, 85 Aylmer, John, Bishop of London, 298 ; his character, 299 ; his early writings and meanness, 300; his death, 301 T)AINBRIDGE, Cardinal, poisoned at _B Rome, 182 Bainham, James, whipped and burned at Smithfield, 197 Baldock, Ralph de, Bishop of London and Lord Chancellor, his history of Great Britain, 70 ; inventory of trea- sures in S. Paul's by, 215 Bancroft, Richard, Bishop of London, 302 ; on the ' Divine Origin of Epis- copacy,' 303 ; at the Hampton Court Conference, 315; promoted to Canter- bury, 316 Barnes, Robert, one of the six prisoners, 1 87 ; breaks from prison, 1 88 ; his contest with Gardiner, 205 ; his reply, 207 Barwick, John, Dean of S. Paul's, 356 ; his strenuous loyalty, 357 ; his auto- biography, 358 ; his dangerous illness, 359 ; his fondness for music, 360 Becket, Thomas, his accusation against Bishop Foliot, 29 ; his diocese adminis- tered by Foliot, 30 ; emissary of. ex- communicates Foliot in S. Paul's, 31 ; admonishes clergy to shun the at- . CEA tainted prelate, 33 ; birth of, in London, 168 Belmeis, Richard de, Bishop of London, 23 ; his munificence and ambition, 24 ; his sickness, death, and burial at S. Osyth, 25 ; his revenues devoted to the Cathedral, 131 Belmeis, Robert de, Bishop of London, his eloquence and melancholy end, 28 Benson, William, set over the head of Wren and ridiculed, 444 Boniface, Archbishop of Canterbury, 57 ; his appearance a.t S. Paul's, 58 Boniface VIII., bull of Pope,' 67 Bonner, Bishop, 203 ; his private cha- racter, 204; officiates at the Mass of the Holy Ghost, 208 ; homily on cha- rity written by, 269 ; committed to the Fleet, 212 ; in seclusion at Fulham, 223 ; examined by the Council, 224 ; deposed, 225 ; restored, 232 ; carried to his palace in triumph, 236 ; in power, 248 ; his articles of inquisition, 249 ; in the Tower, 257 ; again deposed, 263 ; his end, 264 ; plays in churches prohi- bited by, 313 Braybroke, Robert de, Bishop of London. 79 ; mediates between the City and King, 80 ; episcopal duties vigorously discharged by, 81 ; reforms the Chapter of S. Paul's, 82 ; denounces the profana- tion of the church, 83 Burgess, Cornelius, 349 ; anti-dean, 350 ; end of, 351 Butler, Joseph, Dean of S. Paul's, 462 ; his sermons and analogy, 463 Walter de, Bishop of \J Worcester, protests against Canons of Otho, 50 Catacombs, ancient, under S. Paul's, 4 ; described by Sir C. Wren, 5 Ceadda, Bishop of London, 10 626 INDEX. CHA ELY Chantries, S. Paul's rich in, 145 ; founders of, 146; division of endowments, 147 ; service of neglected, 148 ; exquisite workmanship of, 149 ; collective re- venues of, 150 ; abolished, 214 Charles I., S. Paul's under, 331 ; statue of, at, 341 Charles V., the Emperor, hears mass at S. Paul's, 178 Chicheley, Archbishop, 88 ; holds inquest on John Claydon accused of Lollardy, 89 Chishull, John de, Bishop of London, 65 Christianity, introduction of, into Britain, 3 ; Roman, 8 ; of Europe in eighteenth century, 451 ; of England, 452 Clergy, the, under a praemunire, 189 ; state of, in reign of Elizabeth, 273 ; the lower, 274 Clifford, Robert, Bishop of London, 88; at the Council of Constance, 89 ; in- troduces the use of Sarum, 90 Colet, John, Dean of S. Paul's, his cha- racter, 112 ; contrasted with Erasmus ; 113; his travels, 114; at Oxford, 115; on the book of Genesis, 116; his ' Trea- tise on the Sacrament,' 117; Dean of S. Paul's, 118; his preaching, 119; suspected of heresy, 121 ; his school, 122; his sermon at Westminster, 123 ; his statutes of S. Paul's, 124 ; for his school, 127 ; his wisdom, religion, and death, 128 Compton, Henry, Bishop of London, 41 1 ; his life and character, 412 ; suspended, 413 ; his flight with the Princess Anne, 414 ; crowns King William and Queen Mary, 415 ; his claims to the primacy, 416; his sermon on the reopening of S. Paul's, 428 Convocation, sentencesin.against Lollards, 89 ; on the extirpation of heresy, 120 ; meetings of, removed to Westminster, 1 79 ; assembly of, on accession of Queen Mary, 237 ; first meeting of, under Elizabeth, 289 Corbet, Bishop of Norwich, 219; his epitaph on Bishop Ravis, 320 ; urges his clergy to subscribe to S. Paul's, 321 Courtenay, William de, Bishop of London. 74 ; his humiliation, 75 ; his alterca- tion with John of Gaunt in S. Paul's, 76 ; his strife as Archbishop with Wycliffe. 78 ; tradition of his unpopu- larity, 278 Coverdale, Miles, preaches at Paul's Cross, 262 Cranmer, Archbishop, at S. Paul's, 208 ; his ' Exhortation to the Reading of Holy Scripture,' 209 ; preaches at S. Paul's ; 222 ; arraigns papal priests as authors of rebellion, 223 Cromwell, Oliver, story of his intending to sell S. Paul's to the Jews, referred to, 352 ; bids for Raffaelle's cartoons, 392 Cromwell, Thomas, Vicar-general, pre- sides over an assembly of Bishops, 202 ; fall of, 204 DENHAM, Sir John, his lines on S. Paul's, 342 Dering, Edward, his puritanical sermons, 297 De Giglis, Bishop of Worcester, sus- pected of poisoning Cardinal Bain- bridge, 182 Diana, temple to, on site of S. Paul's, 3 ; fable of, discredited by Wren, 5 ; image of, 6 ; altar, to, 7 Diceto, Radulph de, Dean of S. Paul's, assists at the coronation of Richard ]. in Westminster, 36 ; his distinction as a writer, 37 ; his opinion on the sacra- ment of marriage, 38 ; builds the deanery, 39; closes his chronicle before accession of King John, 41 Diocletian, persecution of Christians by, 3 Donne, John, Dean of S. Paul's, 322 ; his life by Isaak Walton, 323 ; his early life, 324 ; his poetry, 325 ; his ser- mons, 327 ; effect of his preaching, 328 ; his monument, 330 EARLE, Bishop, his description of Paul's Walk, 287 Edward IV. at S. Paul's, 105 Edward VI., S. Paul's under, 211 Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester, her pen- ance, 99 Elizabeth, Queen, S. Paul's under, 255 ; changes made by order of, 258 ; Bishops in the reign of, 267 ; religion of, 268 ; state of kingdom on accession of, 269 ; tempted to seize church property, 270 ; proclamation of, against profanation of S. Paul's, 285 ; policy of, 308 Ely, Richard de, Bishop of London elected in Normandy his real name Fitz Neal a man of letters, 36 ; ap- points Peter of Blois archdeacon of London, 39; his peaceful episcopate, 40 INDEX. 527 ERA HAL Erasmus, ^circumstances of, contrasted with those of Colet, 113; their lifelong friendship, 117; advises Colet in the establishment of his school, 124; writ- ings of, 125 Erkenwald, S., Bishop of London, 10 ; life and legends of, 11; altar of, in S. Paul's, 12 ; shrine of, the glory of S. Paul's, 151 ; anniversary of, 152 TjUUCONBERG, Eustace de, Bishop of J. London, 51 ; chief events of his epis- copate, 52 Feckenham, Dean of S. Paul's, his at- tempt to convert Bishop Ridley, 245 ; his apology for Bonner, 248 Felton, John, nails papal bull to the Bishop's gate, 292; hanged on the spot, 293 Fergusson, Mr., his judgement upon S. Paul's quoted, 403, note Fire of London, 363 ; Pepys' account of, 364 ; Evelyn's account, 366 ; Df. Tas- woll's account, 368 ; S. Paul's de- stroyed by, 371; cause of the, 372; Dryden and Evelyn upon, 373 Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, preaches against Martinus Eleutherius, 177 ; at burning of Bibles in S. Paul's, 188 ; countenances the Nun of Kent, 193 Fitz Hugh, Robert, Bishop of London, 91 Fitz James, Bishop of London, his cha- racter, 1 20 ; Richard Hunn murdered in the private prison of, 121 ; accuses Colet of heresy, 122 Fitz Osbert, a demagogue, 38 ; seizes the tower of a church, burned alive in chains, 39 Fleet, river and ditch, 2 Fletcher, Richard, Bishop of London, 301 ; suspended from his functions, 302 Foliot, Gilbert, the rival of Thomas Becket, 30 ; excommunication of, pro- claimed in S. Paul's, 31 ; his dignified conduct, 32 ; aspires to make London an archbishopric, 33 ; episcopal duties faithfully discharged by, 35 Froude, Mr., on the burning of the English Bible at S. Paul's quoted, 186 ; on the spoliation of S. Paul's, 215 Fulk Basset, Bishop of London, holds a council in S. Paul's, 56 ; his reply to papal demands, 57 ; treated with con- tempt by Archbishop Boniface, 58 ; his strife with Legate Rustand, 59; his character by M. Paris. 60 p ARDIXER, Bishop of Winchester, his U treatise ' On True Obedience,' 195 ; severity of the Six Articles attributed to, 205 ; his sermon against Robert Barnes, 206 ; committed to prison, 213 ; preaches at Paul's Cross to a vast congregation, 238 ; his sermon in S. Paul's before Cardinal Pole, 239 Gaunt, John of, Duke of Lancaster, ac- companies Wycliffe to S. Paul's, 76 ; his palace attacked by rioters, 77 ; buried in the Cathedral, 81 ; chantry of, 146 ; his tomb saved at the Re- formation, 228 Gibbons, Grinling, his exquisite carvings, 447 Gibson, Edmund, Bishop of London, 456 ; catalogue of his writings, 457 Gilbert, Robert, Bishop of London, ap- pointed to examine Wycliffe's writings, 92 Gilbert, the Universal, Bishop of London, his immense wealth, 25 ; panegyric of, by S. Bernard, 26 Gloucester, Richard, Duke of, 106 ; his prayer in the Cathedral, 107 ; goes to S. Paul's in state as king, 108 Godolphin, Henry, Dean of S. Paul's, 436 ; resigns and becomes provost of Eton, 458 Gravesend, Richard de, Bishop of London, 66 ; his address to the Dean and Chap- ter of S. Paul's, 67 ; his will, 69 ; a preserver of game, 138, note; divinity lecture founded by, 143; catalogue of books belonging to, Appendix Gravesend, Stephen de, Bishop of London, contests the primate's right to visit S. Paul's, 70 ; convicted of high treason, 72 Grindal, Edmond, preaches before Queen Elizabeth's Council, 257 ; consecrated bishop of London, 262 ; his qualifica- tions for the office, 265; his difficulties, 275 ; his piety and gentleness, 290 ; his virtue recorded by Spenser, 291 Grey Friars, chronicler of. 213 ; horror of, at new doctrines, 219 ; degradation of Bonner described by, 225 Gualo, papal legate, protects the cause of English independence, 46 H PALE, Archdeacon, observation of, on the Anglo-Saxon charters, 132 ; Domesday of S. Paul's published by, 134; quoted, 135; Appendix by, re- ferred to, 145 528 INDEX. HAB LUT Hare, Dr. Francis, on the commission for rebuilding S. Paul's, 436 ; appointed to the deanery, 458 ; his services to the Whig administration, 459 ; his letter on the study of Scripture, 460 ; his incomparable sagacity, 451 ; his controversies and scholarship, 462 Harpsfield, Nicholas, preaches at Paul's Cross on marriage of Philip and Mary, 237 ; refuses to submit to Queen Eliza- beth's injunctions, 260 ITarvey, Richard, possessed of the palace at Fulham, 352 Henchman, Humphrey, Bishop of London, 355 ; rebuilds the palace in Aldersgate Street, 385 ; his death, 411 Henry III., early events in the reign of, 46 Henry IV. in S. Paul's, 81 Henry VI., peaceful visit of, to S. Paul's, described by Lydgate, 100 ; reconciled to the Yorkists in, 102 : second meet- ing in S. Paul's, 104 ; his body ex- posed in the Cathedral, 106 Henry VII. celebrates his victory over Lambert Simnel in S. Paul's, 110; his body laid in state, 172 Henry VIII. thanks Dean Colet for his sermons, 122 ; Sword and Cap of Main- tenance presented by Pope to, 172 ; in S. Paul's, 173; swears the 'eternal peace,' 176 ; last holocaust in the reign of, 210 Hooker, Eichard, 303 TNDULGENCES, granted for benefit of -L S. Paul's, 160; produce of, uncer- tain, 161 TAMES L, S. Paul's under, 315; in S. Paul's, 318 Jewel, Bishop of Salisbury, his memorable challenge, 262 John, King, reign of, 40 ; persecutes the clergy, 41 ; in S. Paul's, 43 Jones, Inigo, King's surveyor, 318; Water Gate erected by, 319 ; at the height of his renown, 334; S. Paul's restored by, 336 ; an Italian in all but birth, 337 Juxon, William, Bishop of London, 345 ; resigns the high treasurership with King Charles on the scaffold, 346 ; his retreat at Fulham, 351 ; resumes his see at the Restoration, 355 TTEMP, JOHN, Bishop of London, 90 ; JJL Lord Chancellor, 91 Kemp, Thomas, Bishop of London, his long episcopate, 98 ; keeps aloof from parties, 108 ; his magnificence, rebuilds Paul's Cross, builds Divinity schools at Oxford, 109 ; his undistinguished suc- cessors, 111 ; chantry of, in St. Paul's, 146 Kent, Nun of, 193 King, John, Bishop of London, 321 LANFRANC, Primate, holds a great council in St. Paul's, 19 Langton, Stephen, in St. Paul's, 42 ; pre- sides as primate at a council held in, 46 Latimer, Hugh, Bishop of Worcester, 197; his sermons at S. Paul's, 198 ; at Paul's Cross in 1548, 218 Laud, Archbishop, his virtues, 331 ; his vices, 332 ; his negligent performance of Episcopal duties, 333 ; Bishop of London, 334 ; his zeal in the restora- tion of S. Paul's, 335 ; his patronage of Jeremy Taylor, 344 ; assailed by re- monstrances and menaces, 345 Lily, John, Master of S. Paul's School, 126 Liturgy, the English, characterised, 228 Lollards, boldness of the, 80 ; sentences in convocation against, 89 London, Roman, 2 ; Christian, 3 ; Arch- bishopric of, in pre-Saxon times, 8 ; dio- cese of, 9 ; council of, held in S. Paul's, 19; its decrees, 10; citizens of, sup- port King Stephen, 27; interdict' on, 40 ; edict of city against the profana- tion of S. Paul's, 284 London, Bishops of, estates to, granted by Saxon kings, 13; under the Normans a baronial noble, 15 ; contested elec- tions of, 26 ; inglorious succession of, in reign of Edward III., 69 ; withdraw from administration of Cathedral, 131 ; phases of the Reformation typified by, 169 ; demands of Elizabeth on lands of, 271 ; during eighteenth century, 456 ; during nineteenth century, 479 Longchamp, William de, arraignment of. in S. Paul's, 38 Lowth, Robert, Bishop of London, 464 ; his controversy with Warburton, 465 ; his lectures on Hebrew poetry, 467 ; his epitaph on his daughter, 468 Luther, Martin, condemnation of his doc- trines read in S. Paul's, 177 INDEX. MAC PAU MACAULAY, Lord, his account of Sherlock's appointment to Deanery of S. Paul's quoted, 422 Machyn, Robert, his diary, 250 ; his ap- palling account of executions in Smith- field, 251 ; obsequies of Henry II. of France described by, 261 Martin, Marpielate, attacks the Bishops, 300 Martyrs, Protestant and Papal, 208 Mary, Queen, S. Paul's under, 232 ; death of, 234 Mauritius, Bishop of London, his magni- ficent designs for the new Cathedral, castle of Bishop's Stortford granted to, 22 May, William, Dean of S. Paul's, an ad- vanced Reformer, 212 ; commands En- glish service to be used, 219 ; 'Sacra- ment of the Altar,' pulled down by or- der of, 222 ; officiates through all the changes, 277 ; death of, 275 Mellitus, Bishop of London, 9 ; goes to Rome, made Archbishop of Canterbury, 10 Millington, Provost of King's College, preaches against R. Pecock, 93 Montfort, William de, Dean of S. Paul's, his awful death, 66 Monuments in Old S. Paul's of bishops, 376 ; of statesmen, 377; of Sir Nicholas Bacon, 378 ; of Sir Philip Sidney, 379 ; of Walsingham, 380 ; of Sir Christo- pher Hatton, 381 ; of Sir Henry Croft, 382 ; of Owen and Sir William Hewet, 383 Monuments in New S. Paul's of John Howard, 480 ; of naval heroes, 483 ; of Marquis Cornwallis, 486 ; of Indian warriors, 487 ; of military heroes, 488 ; of heroes of the Peninsular War, 489 ; to civilians, 490; to Viscount Mel- bourne, 491 Morton, Archbishop, holds a convocation at S. Paul's, 110 Morwen's pamphlet, 279 \TELSON, Lord, funeral of, in S.Paul's, ll 484 Newton, Thomas, Dean of S. Paul's, 467 ; his Dissertations on the Prophecies, 470 ; his unfortunate estimate of books, 471 ; his death and rejected monument, 472 Nonconformists, the, 453 ; attendance of, officially, at S. Paul's, 454 Norfolk, execution of the Duke of, 306 Nowell, Alexander, Dean of S. Paul's, 275 ; his character, 276 ; his sermon on the fire at S. Paul's, 278 ; his cate- chism, 303 ; his sermon against the Papists, 304 ; his gift to the Queen, 305 ; at Norfolk's execution, 306 ; his conference with Campian, 307 ; at the close of Elizabeth's reign, 311 OBITS, amount and distribution of, 144 ; list of, in Appendix, 145 ; abol- ished, 214 Oblations, 150 ; pyxides for reception of, 152 ; division of, 153 and Appendix Ornaments, demolition of, 230 Orwell, Hugh of, Bishop of London, a leper, 21 ; death of, 22 Otho, Cardinal and Legate, dictator over English clergy, 46 ; received on land- ing with costly gifts, 48 ; holds council in S. Paul's, 49 ; his sermon, 50 ; canons of, 51 ; his residence in the Abbey of Osney, 52 Ottobuoni, Cardinal and Legate, promul- gates his famous constitutions in S. Paul's, 64 Overall, Dean of S. Paul's, 322 ; his ' Con- vocation Book,' 323 Oxford, University of, excommunicated by Cardinal Otho, 53 ; Divinity schools at, built by Bishop Kemp, 109 PACE, Richard, his oration on the 'Eternal Peace,' 176; his scholarship avouched by Erasmus, 1 79 ; his cha- racter, 180 ; Wolsey jealous of, 181 ; at Rome with Cardinal Bainbridge, 182; becomes dean of S. Paul's, 183 ; em- ployed in various negotiations, 184 ; malady and ill-usage of, 185; ejected from his deanery, 186 Papacy, the power of, in England, 45 Papal Legates, in S. Paul's, 45 Parker, Matthew, consecrated primate, 262 Paul's Cross, Fitz Osbert harangues the people from, 38 ; the pulpit of the church in England, 61 ; Folksmote summoned at, 62 ; rebuilt by Bishop Kemp, 109; its situation and beauty, 163 ; sermons and publications at, 164; sermons at, a chronicle of the Reforma- tion, 169 ; question of the King's di- vorce agitated at, 192 ; royal supre- macy ordered to be set forth at, 194; contest between Gardiner and Barnes M M 530 INDEX. PEC at, 205 ; sermons at, on accession of Edward VI., 211; riots at, on acces- sion of Queen Mary, 234 ; preachers at, silenced by Elizabeth, 256 ; sermons at, 257 ; demolition of, 354 Peckham, John, Primate, 65 ; vindicates his metropolitan supremacy, 66 Pecock, Reginald, Bishop of S. Asaph, preaches against Lollardism at Paul's Cross, 92 ; his ' Precursor,' 93 ; abjures his errors at Paul's Cross, 94 ; his con- fession, 95 ; condemnation of, 96 ; on marriage, 97 Persecution, difference in degrees of, 310 Peter's, S., a model of church architec- ture, 399 ; contrasted with S. Paul's, 400 Peter Martyr, the oracle of the Reformers, 265 ; his advice to Grindal, 266 Phillips, Thomas, persecuted for heresy, 196 Pilkington, Bishop of Durham, 277 ; his sermon at Paul's Cross, 278 ; his re- futation of Popery, 279 Pindar, Sir Paul, his munificent contribu- tion to S. Paul's, 340 Pius V., Pope, character of, 294 ; bull of, against Elizabeth, promulgated, 295 Pole, Cardinal, his reception in S. Paul's, 239 ; his lenity to the Reformers doubt- ful, 253 ; his death, 254 Porteous, Beilby, Bishop of London, 468 ; his beautiful voice, 469 Poynet, Bishop of Winchester, disgraceful divorce of, 230, note Priests, Mass, 147 ; their indifferent re- putation, 148; Missionary, 309 Pulteney, Sir J., his chantry at S. Paul's, 147 Puritanism, its aggressiveness, 296 Purvey, John, successor of Wycliffe, 86 ; his miserable apostasy, 87 EAVIS, Thomas, Bishop of London, 319 ; his epitaph by Bishop Corbet, 320 Reformation, approach of the, 169 Reformers, the, worst enemies of the Reformation, 220 ; their actions and opinions examined, 230 Reliques, in S. Paul's, 154; list of, 155 Residentiaries of S. Paul's, account of the, 83, constitution of, 134; neglect residence, 139; appointments to be co- veted, 143 Reynolds, Sir Joshua, overtures of, to SAT: paint the Cathedral, 471 ; funeral of, in S. Paul's, 475 Rich, Edmund, Primate, remonstrates against papal exactions, rebukes Henry III. for misgovernment, 47 Richard II., body of, exposed in S. Paul's, 81 Ridley, Bishop of Rochester, 202; inveighs against picture worship, 211 ; sermon at Paul's Cross by, 219; appointed bishop of London, 226 ; preacher on holidays at S. Paul's, 227 ; his exer- tions in favour of charitable endow- ments, 229 ; fall of, 233 ; his imprison- ment, 245 ; trial, 246 ; death, 247 Robert, Abbot of Jumieges, appointed bishop of London by Edward the Con- fessor, translated to Canterbury, ex- pelled, and appeals to Rome, 14 Robinson, John, Bishop of London, 458 Roger the Black, Bishop of London, 49 ; his character, 53 ; excommunicates the usurers, 54 ; his services to the clergy and munificence, 55 ; his tomb in the south aisle, 56 Rogers, John, Canon of S. Paul's, 241 ; identified with Matthews, editor of first complete English Bible, 242 ; his trial, 243 ; his martyrdom, 244 Roses, Wars of the, 98 Russell, William, arraigned in S. Paul's of heresy, 91 Rustand, Legate, his exorbitant demands, 59 QAMPSON, Richard, Bishop of Chi- IO Chester and Dean of S. Paul's, 204 Sancroft, Dean of S. Paul's, 385; his sermon on the Fire, 386 ; his letters to Wren, 387 ; despicable close of his career, 415 Sandwith, Henry de, Bishop of London, 60 ; sides with the Barons, 62 ; sus- pended and excommunicated, 63 ; par- doned and absolved, 64 Sandys, Edwin, Bishop of London, 291 ; Papal bull affixed to the gates of his palace, 292 ; his letter on the Massacre of S. Bartholomew, 296 ; his farewell sermon at Paul's Cross, 297 ; promoted to archbishopric of York, 298 Santa Maria, William de, Bishop of Lon- don, papal interdict against England read by, 40 ; goes into exile, 41 ; returns to England with Stephen Langton, 42 Sautree, William, the first martyr of Wycliffism, 85 INDEX. 531 SEC Seeker, Thomas, Dean of S. Paul's, 469 Seebohm, Frederick, his work on the 'Oxford Reformers' referred to, 114. , Cf. list of errata Segrave, Gilbert de, Bishop of London, the fabric completed in his episcopate, 161 ; dedicates the spire, 162 Shaw, Dr., his infamous sermon in S. Paul's, 107 Shaxton, Nicholas, recantation of, 210 Sheldon, Bishop of London, 355 ; his munificent contribution to the new Cathedral, 391 Sherlock, Thomas, Bishop of London, 463 ; his pulpit eloquence, 464 Sherlock, William, Dean of S. Paul's, 421 ; uproar at his appointment, 422; his recantation, 423 ; pamphlet and ballads upon, 425 ; on the Trinity, 426 ; present at the opening of New S. Paul's, 429 Shore, Jane, her penance in S. Paul's, 107 Sigillo, Robert de, Bishop of London, 27 ; dies of eating poisoned grapes, 28 Simnel, Lambert, exhibited in S. Paul's, 110 Somerset, the Protector, 221 ; injunctions against the old religion issued by, 225 S. Paul's Cathedral, site of, 1 ; catacombs under, 4 ; founded by Ethelbert, 9 ; under the Normans, 15 ; tomb of Bishop William in nave of, 17 ; grants of William the Conqueror to, 1 8 ; Coun- cil in, held by Lanfranc, 19 ; burnt A.D. 1087, 21 ; designs for the new Cathedral, 23 ; area of, 24 ; again dam- aged by fire, 27 ; invaded by rioters in reign of Richard I., 38 ; conventions in, preluding Runnymede, 42 ; the Dau- phin Louis in, 44 ; papal power dis- played in, 45 ; councils in, 49 ; proces- sion of Oxford heads and scholars sets out from, 53 ; doors of, closed against Archbishop Boniface, 58 ; terrible scenes at, in reign of Edward II., 71 ; appearance of Wycliffe in,*76 ; body of Richard II. exposed in, 81 ; profanation and abuses in, 83 ; first capital sen- tence under writ De Haeretico com- burendo pronounced in, 85 ; Roger Bo- lingbroke the Necromancer exhibited in front of, 99 ; reconciliation of Lancas- trians and Yorkists, in 102 ; bodies of Lancastrians exposed in, 106 ; walls of, used for advertisements, 124 ; surroun- ded by monastic establishments, 129 ; statutes of, 132; royal funerals in, 144; shrine of S. Erkenwald in, 151 ; fabric of described, 155 ; encircled by s. PAUL'S walls, 156 ; gates of the precincts, 157 ; the Norman nave, 158 ; the choir, 159 ; cost of, how defrayed, 1 60 ; completion of, 161 ; dedication of spire, 162; the high altar, 163 ; city processions to, 165; marriage of Prince Arthur in, 170; Emperor Charles V. proclaimed in, 177 ; battle of Pavia celebrated in, 179; burning of English Bibles at, 186 ; scene in the chapter-house, 189 ; the second ' perpetual peace ' celebrated at, 209 ; images pulled down in, 212 ; plunder of, 215 ; spoils of, in Spain, 216 ; Jesus bells of, staked at dice, 220 ; further reformations in, 226 ; first Anglican service at, 229 ; pageant at, on crowning of Queen Mary, 233 ; mass again celebrated in, 235 ; restoration of the rood, 238 ; images again removed in; 259 ; obsequies of Henry II. of France performed in, 261 ; fires in, 277 ; rebuilding of, 282 ; reopening of 283; abuses in, 286; defeat of the Spanish Armada celebrated at, 311; plays at, 312; lotteries before, 314; conspirators executed before West door of, 316; dilapidated state of, 317 ; restored by Inigo Jones. 336 ; the West front, 338 ; the portico, 339 ; the new Cathedral, 341 ; under the Com- monwealth, 347 ; all ornaments re- moved from, 348 ; state of, 353 ; de- struction of, in the Great Fire, 370 ; monuments in old, 374 ; the old cathe- dral characterised, 388 ; building of the new a national undertaking. 389 ; funds for, 391 ; coal tax devoted to, 392; architectural merits of the new church, 401 ; first stone laid, 404 ; ground on which it stands, 405 ; opinion of Sir C. Lyell and Mr. Prestwich upon the foundation, 406 ; foundation of, laid, 409 ; the works begun, 410; opened for divine service, 427 ; laying the last stone, 432 ; the building com- mission, 434 ; the commissioners, 436 ; iron railings round, 439 ; interior of the cathedral, 447 ; cost of, 449 ; pro- posal for decoration of, 471 ; ovational processions at, 474 ; robbery at, 476 ; recent plans for the completion and de- coration of, 495 ; letter of Dean Mil- man on, 496 ; special evening services at, 497 S. Paul's, Deans of, their autocracy in the chapter, 133; a prebendal estate attached in the deanery, 134; list of, during nineteenth contury, 479 532 INDEX. s. PAUL'S WKE S. Paul's, Dean and Chapter of, their es- tates in Saxon times, 1 3 ; wicked abuses committed by, 82 ; reformed by Bishop Braybroke, 83 ; members of secular priests, 129 ; constitution of, 130 ; authority of the bishop in, 131 ; the great chapter, 132 ; theory of, 135 ; manors of the, 136; tenures and amount of their lands, 137 ; separate estates of prebendaries, situations of, remark- able, 138 ; diminution in number of re- sident members of, 139 ; watchful in the maintenance of their rights, 154 ; humble petition of, to Edward VI., 217 ; lands of, escape Henry VIII.' s spolia- tion, 278 S. Paul's, Domesday of, 134 ; published by Archdeacon Hale, 135 S. Paul's, officers of, the Treasurer, 140; Sacrist and Vergers, 141 ; Chancellor and Precentor, 142 ; College of Minor Canons, 143 S. Paul's School, founded by Dean Colet, 122 ; masters of, 126; statutes of, 127 ; boys of, entertain Anne Boleyn with verses, 193 Sperafocus, or Sparrowhawk, appointed bishop of London, Norman primate re- fuses to consecrate, 16 Stapleton, Walter, Bishop of Exeter, mur- dered in Cheapside, 71 Stokesley, Bishop of London, presides over burning of Bibles, 189 ; his character, 190 ; in the midst of a clerical tumult, 191; accepts royal supremacy, 194; cites Queen Katherine to appear 195 ; burns heretics, 196; wishes to burn Latimer, 197 ; argues for Seven Sa- craments, 202 ; his death and burial, 203 Stillingfleet, Edward, Dean of S. Paul's, 417 ; his learning, 418 Sudbury, Simon of, Bishop of London, 72 ; beheaded by the insurgents on Tower Hill, 73 rTACITUS, his mention of London, 2 J- Talbot, Richard, Dean of S. Paul's, 60 ; excommunicates the Prior of Ber- mondsey, 61 Taswell, Dr., a Westminster boy at time of the Great Fire, 368 ; the boys assisl in staying the fire, 369 ; his account oi the burning of S. Paul's, 370 Taylor, Jeremy, Divinity lecturer at S Paul's, 344 Tillatson, John, his qualifications for the primacy, 416 ; Dean of S. Paul's, 419 ; his religion, 420 ; his prose, 421 Thomas Aeon, S., church of, 165; site and foundation of, 166; city processions to. 167 Thornhill, Sir James, his paintings on the cupola, 440 Turner, William Mallory, his dying re- quest, 473 IT GO FALCODI, Legate and Pope, 63 WALDEN, Eoger de, titular Arch- bishop, 84 ; descends to bishopric of London, 85 Waller, Edmund, his verses on the newly restored Cathedral, 343 Walpole, Horace, his criticism on the re- storation of S. Paul's, 336 ; his remarks on completion of the new Cathedral, 445 Wellington Duke of, his funeral in S. Paul's, 492 ; scene under the dome at, 493 Wengham, Henry de, Bishop of London, the most magnificent pluralist on record, 60 William the Conqueror, accession of, 16 ; his grants to S. Paul's, 18 ; his contri- bution to the new Cathedral, 23 William, Bishop of London, A.D. 1104, 16 ; chaplain to the Confessor, inter- cedes with the Conqueror for citizens of London, annual pilgrimage of Lon- doners to his tomb in S. Paul's, epi- taph of, 17; death of, 18 Winchelsey, Primate, letters of, 68 Winnif, Thomas, Dean of S. Paul's, 330 Wolsey, Cardinal, installed at Westmin- ster, 123 ; celebrates mass at S. Paul's, 175; present in S. Paul's at condem- nation of Luther, 177; summons con- vocation to meet at Westminster, 178 ; his letter to De Giglis, 182 Woodward, Dr., on the worship and temple of Diana, 6 Wren, Sir Christopher, on the catacombs under S. Paul's, 4 ; discredits fable of temple to Diana, 5 ; his report on the Cathedral, 361 ; his proposed remedy, 362 ; designated as architect for the new church, 392 ; King's surveyor, 394 ; youth of, 395 ; as philosopher, 396 ; as architect, 397 ; his travels, 398 ; his two designs for S. Paul's, 402 ; his INDEX. 533 WRE TOR report, upon the foundations, 405 ; his daring hypothesis, 406 ; his difficulty in layingthe foundation, 408 ; at the lay- ing of the last stone, 432 ; his power and influence, 433 ; his other works, 434 ; his differences with the clergy, 435 ; attack upon, 437 ; arraignment of, 439 ; his reply, 440 ; dictated to, by the new commission, 442 ; his con- temptuous answer, 443 ; dismissal of, 444 ; retirement of, 445 ; old age of, 446 ; his character drawn by Sir Eichard Steele, 448; his tomb in S. Paul's, 474 Wycliffe, John, summoned to answer at S. Paul's, 76 ; appears in the Cathedral, 77 Wycliffism, martyrs of, 86 Wykeham, William of, 78 T7"ORK, Richard, Duke of, 100; his I oath of fealty to King Henry, 101 LONDON: I'KISTKD BT SPOTTISWOOUB AM) CO.. MiW-STRBKT BQUi.B AMD PAKLlAMtXI SIMKiil University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 Box 951388 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed.