Photo : Cassell <4 Co., Urn. 
 
 THE ANGEL IN THE VESTRY OF ST. OLAVE'S CHURCH, 
 HART STREET (p. 153).
 
 
 LONDON 
 AFTERNOONS 
 
 Chapters on the Social Life. 
 Architecture, and Records 
 of the Great City and its 
 Neighbourhood 
 
 W. J. LOFTIE, B.A., F.S.A., F.Z.S. 
 
 AUTHOR OF "A HISTORY OF LONDON," "WINDSOR," AND 
 "THE AUTHORISED GUIDE TO THE TOWER": AND EDITOR OF 
 "THE ORIENT GUIDE" 
 
 WITH UPWARDS OF SIXTY ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 CASSELL and COMPANY. Limited 
 
 London, Paris, New York & Melbourne. MCMI 
 All Rights Reserved
 
 
 D 
 1-3 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 / 
 
 It is a serious thing to add another to the number of 
 London books, and having undertaken the task, I 
 hope to carry it out seriously. I have avoided, as far 
 as possible, the mention of matters over which there 
 has been controversy. Where it has not been possible 
 I have stated the result only — the result, that is, as 
 it appears to me. In all controversies the want of 
 what in arithmetic is called a common denominator 
 is the great cause of doubt. Lately, to name an 
 example, three students of London history had an 
 argument as to the situation of Tyburn. No con- 
 clusion was arrived at, after much learning had been 
 displayed and much ink shed, because the three had 
 not first agreed as to what each meant by Tyburn. 
 To one it was a place of public execution, to another 
 it was a manor comprising a church and a village, to 
 the third it was a brook. 
 
 Nevertheless, by many such controversies, carried on, 
 for the most part, very good-humouredly, the history 
 of London is gradually assuming scientific proportions. 
 At first, thirty or forty years ago, it had not got beyond 
 the point at which it was left by the Elizabethans. 
 A History of London was a mere list of events, often 
 misstated. The same errors were repeated in book after 
 book, and there was not the slightest attempt to get 
 beyond the authorities of three centuries ago. In 
 noticing such errors I have endeavoured not to go 
 over the proofs upon which the modern view has been
 
 iv PREFACE. 
 
 founded. These proofs, which thirty years ago were 
 matters of research, are now, by the munificence of the 
 City Corporation and the labours of the Rolls and the 
 Historical Manuscripts Commissions, made perfectly 
 accessible in print, and generally in English. They 
 can be seen and read by all. That they are worthy 
 of study is apparent when we remember that the 
 records preserved at St. Paul's and those of the City 
 Fathers at the Guildhall form such an unbroken 
 series, extending back to the times of our Saxon 
 kings, as can be exhibited by no other city in 
 the whole world. For London alone has never been 
 entered by a foreign invader during the millennium 
 which has elapsed since the death of Alfred. Her 
 greatest enemy has been fire, but the care and daring 
 of her citizens have saved the records at each emer- 
 gency; and when we see the old fables repeated in 
 modern books we can only say — 
 
 Dream from deed he must dissever 
 Who his fortune here would try. 
 
 Our holiday afternoons must not be spent in blind 
 acceptance of old stories. We must seek the truth 
 for ourselves. It is in this spirit only that it becomes 
 us now to investigate history. 
 
 The following chapters are arranged, as far as 
 possible, so as to fit the brief description in the title. 
 In this country, the great country which we call 
 London, it is well to remember that fine days are 
 few and short, dark days many and long. I have sought 
 accordingly to provide for rainy afternoons as well 
 as for those during which train, horse, bicycle or boots 
 may carry us a few miles out of town. Some of the 
 chapters deal with related subjects, so that I have had 
 here and there to cite the same fact more than once, 
 though in different connections.
 
 PREFACE. V 
 
 As, for a quarter of a century or more, I have written 
 much upon the great and inexhaustible subject thus 
 indicated, I make no apology for occasional repetitions 
 of what has already appeared elsewhere. In most cases 
 this repetition, I think, only extends to the title of 
 a chapter. A suitable title is not to be lightly thrown 
 away, because two or three different essays may be 
 written upon it. In other cases I have used the words 
 of whole paragraphs which have appeared in former 
 books now long out of print, and in various periodicals, 
 of which I need only name the Saturday Review 
 and the Scots Observer among many weeklies, the 
 Magazine of Art and the Portfolio among monthlies. 
 
 But, as I have said, all the passages here reprinted 
 have been rewritten, brought up to date, or otherwise 
 altered so as to render the kind permission to uso 
 them, which I have obtained, very little more than a 
 matter of form ; while of those chapters which I have 
 taken from books now out of print, of which there arc 
 parts of three or four, I am myself the owner of the 
 copyright. Here I must name three editors to whose 
 encouragement I chiefly owe it that my London studies 
 have been so long continued. The late Martin Sharp, 
 of the Guardian, published my early essays. William 
 Ernest Henley, first at the Magazine of Art and 
 afterwards at the Scots Observer, was ever ready with 
 suggestions, work, and help. Of Walter Herries Pollock, 
 my life-long friend, I need say no more than that 
 for twenty years, under his guidance at the Saturday 
 Review, I wrote almost weekly a London article. 
 
 I have received much kind encouragement in preparing 
 this volume. Sir Benjamin Stone, M.P., courteously 
 permitted me to use his photograph of the old volumes 
 of the City Records ; and Sir John Monckton, the Town 
 Clerk of London, also wrote most obligingly on the same
 
 VI 1'REFACE. 
 
 subject. To Dr. Reginald Sharpe, D.C.L., I owe much 
 information as to the Guildhall Muniments. Miss Kate 
 Greenaway generously gave me her drawing, made some 
 years ago, of Abbot John of Berkhampstead, from one 
 of the Cottonian manuscripts. Mr. Alfred Stalman's 
 timely reminder and loan of the unique photograph of 
 the Chapel Royal, Savoy, taken before the fire of 1864, 
 enables me to show the building as it was with the old 
 monuments. Messrs. Ellis and Elvey, of Bond Street, 
 kindly gave me the curious pictures of mediaeval life from 
 the manuscript of King Rene. The Rev. Lewis Gilbertson 
 afforded me the same help which I had formerly re- 
 ceived from his predecessor as librarian of St. Paul's, 
 the lamented Dr. Sparrow Simpson, and I beg grate- 
 fully to acknowledge it. 
 
 Many and pleasant have been the memories called 
 up in my mind as I have gone over the labours of past 
 years while engaged in putting together the materials 
 of these records of afternoons spent in London and its 
 neighbourhood. They do not aspire to be guides, and 
 may not be without interest, I hope, to those who have 
 no opportunity of visiting the scenes which they de- 
 scribe. Handbooks are plenty, and of late years have 
 been immensely improved. But the accurate descrip- 
 tion of a visit, to be read after we have seen an 
 interesting place, is often found to be both pleasant and 
 instructive. In these pages, then, I have endeavoured 
 to note impressions which may possibly be found enter- 
 taining and useful as records and reminiscences of a 
 pilgrimage. 
 
 W. J. L.
 
 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 LONDON FIVE CENTURIES AGO. Pa qb 
 
 Aspect of London Five Centuries Ago — The Walls and Gates — The 
 Fleet — Fleet Street and the Strand — Charing— The Hole-bourne 
 — Smithfield and St. Bartholomew's— The New Gate — Cheap — 
 Richard Whittington and Henry V. — Pawnbrokhig — Eastcheap 
 — The Tower — London Bridge — St. Saviour's — Becket, "St. 
 Thomas of London "...... 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 LONDON LIFE IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 Publication of London Records— Greatness of John Stow the Antiquary 
 — Houses in the Fourteenth Century — The Interior — Furniture 
 — Domestic Details — Prices of Provisions— " House-Warming " 
 of Westminster Hall — Medicine and Surgery — Overcrowding — 
 Pestilence — Abolishing the Relics of Slavery — Growth of 
 Romanist Doctrines— Ecclesiastical Parties— The Friars— London 
 and the Wars — The Manufacture of Armour an Important 
 Industry— The City Dagger— Street Scenes . . .23 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 NEWGATE. 
 
 Abolition of the Prison— The Associations of Newgate— The Xame — 
 William the Chamberlain — State of the Prison early in the Nine- 
 teenth Century — The Sunday between Trial Friday and Execu- 
 tion Monday — Gaol Fever — Giltspur and other Neighbouring 
 Streets ........ 45 
 
 CHAPTER TV. 
 
 ANCIENT RIVERS. 
 
 Why the Thames has become the most Important of Rivers — The Site 
 of London— Hills and Brooks— The Highest Ground— The Fleet 
 —The Hole-bourne— The Welh— Tyburn— The Gallows— The 
 Westbourne — "Bournes" in the City . . . .54 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 king's langley. 
 
 The Tomb of an Ancestor of Edward YTI. — A Royal Hunting Lodge— 
 The Burial of Richard II.— Piers Gavestoue— A Rich Priory— 
 The Church of All Saints ...... 64
 
 vni Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OLD ST. PAUL'S. p A c« 
 
 London in the Year One Thousand— Foundation of Old St. Paul's— Its 
 Secular Constitution — The Cloister an Afterthought — The Folk- 
 mote Bell Tower— Hollar's Engravings — The Tallest Spire in 
 Christendom — The Monuments — " Inigo Jones, Esquire" — His 
 Portico ........ 71 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 BROOK SHOTT AND STONEBRIDGE CLOSE. 
 
 Changed Names, and Names that have Survived Things and Places — 
 The Grosvenor Estate— Buckingham House — A Roman Road in 
 "Brook Shott"— Stonehridge Close— The Scene of Harriet 
 Westbrook's Suicide— The Ranger's Lodge . . .81 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE CITY COMPANIES. 
 
 The City Guilds not to he confused with the City Companies— When 
 the Guilds were abolished — Companies as Trustees — The Husting 
 Court — The Rise of the Companies — Religious Guilds — The Fish- 
 mongers and the Goldsmiths— The Stationers— The Barber- 
 Surgeons — The Honourable Artillery Company — Funds and 
 Expenditure of the Companies— The Mercers' and Drapers' 
 Companies and what they are doing with their Money — The 
 Dinners— The Cups and other Ornaments of the Tables . 88 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 BERKHAMPSTEAD. 
 
 Little Fragments of a Great Place— Age of the Castle— The Earl of 
 Cornwall — Memories of the Castle— Richard, King of the Romans 
 — Abbot John of Berkhampstead— The Black Prince at Berk- 
 hampstead — "Proud Cis" — Lord Falkland— Decay of the Castle 
 — The Church — Dean Incent — Birthplace of William Cowper . 106 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TEMPLE BAR. 
 
 Lud Gate and its Origin — The Ward of Farringdon — The Successive 
 Temple Bars — Sir Horace Jones's Monument — Are the Middle 
 and Inner Temples in the Lord Mayor's Jurisdiction? — The 
 Outer Temple — Dr. Barebone . . . . .114 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 
 
 Churches Built before 1666 — Churches since Destroyed — Parochial 
 Divisions — St. Bartholomew's and Its Founder, Rahere — The 
 Church as it was in the Fifteenth Century — Prior Bolton : His 
 Pun and His Window — The Monuments in the Church — St. 
 Giles's, Cripplegate — Its Churchyard — The Parish Guest House 
 — The Monuments — St. Helen's, Bishopsgate : "The West- 
 minster Abbey of the City" — Crosby Hall— St. Ethelburga's — 
 St. Andrew Undershaft — St. Katharine Cree — Where did 
 Holbein Die? — Allhallows, Barking — St. Olave's, Hart Street 
 — Pepys — A Curious Relic ...... 121
 
 CONTENTS. IX 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 TEING. pack 
 
 A Museum amid the Chiltern Hills— Tring — The Vale of Aylesbury — 
 Akeman Street — The Museum— The Chief Curiosities — Instruc- 
 tive Zoology ........ t&* 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 week's st. paul's. 
 
 The First Design — Wren's Perplexity — The Foundations — The Opening 
 Service — The General Plan— The Western Portico— The Cupola 
 — The Proportions, compared with those of St. Peter's — A Silly 
 Story— "Wren's Epitaph— The Nobility of the Cathedral— The 
 Interior : Carvings and Metal Work — The Organ — The Monu- 
 ments — The Wellington Monument —The Crypt — Tombs of 
 Nelson and Wellington — Decoration of the Dome and Choir — 
 Burges' Design — The Reredos— The Old Railings and their 
 Fate — Sir William Richmond's Designs .... 160 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 TWO RIYEBSIDE PALACES. 
 
 The Savoy Palace and the Hospital — The Chapel — Thomas Fuller — 
 His Epitaph — His Ministry at the Savoy— Follows the King to 
 Oxford — A Royal Chaplain —His Last Sermon — Northumberland 
 House — The Percys and their Fortunes — The Interior of North- 
 umberland House — Its Ugliness and Incouvenience — The Site, 
 and what was done with it ..... 187 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 GTJILDFOED. 
 
 Guildford's Domestic Architecture, Ancient and Modern — Trinity 
 Church— Pepys at Guildford — "The Bull Inn": a Ludicrous 
 Blunder — Origin of Guildford's Name — The Castle and its Asso- 
 ciations — Abbot's Hospital — The Abbot Brothers — What the 
 "Restorer" has done at Guildford .... 200 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " TAPESTEY AT ST. JAMES'S." 
 
 The Hospital of St. James — Henry VIII. 's Hunting Lodge — Prince 
 Henry— Charles I.'s Last Night — St. James's after the Restora- 
 tion—The "Warming Pan" Plot— The Lutheran Chapel— 
 The Chapel Royal— Death of Queen Caroline —Wedding of 
 George III. and the Princess Charlotte— Baptism of George IV. 
 — A Service in the Chapel Royal ..... 208 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 CAMBERWELL. 
 
 When Camberwell was a Pleasant Village — The Parish Registers — 
 Curiou3 Names— Camber well's Modern Associations— Its An- 
 tiquities — St. Thomas -a- Watering — The Name . . . 216
 
 X CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE GUILDHALL. paob 
 
 What was a Guild Merchant ?— The Old Guildhall in Aldermanbury — 
 The New Guildhall — The Hustings— The Monuments — Elections 
 of Kings — Trial of Queen Jane — Royal Visits — The Library — 
 The Museum— The Art Gallery— The Council Chamber— The 
 Records— The Real Centre of the City . . . .221 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 CANONBURY. 
 
 Canonbury and the Canons of St. Bartholomew — Bolton's Tower — A 
 Great Heiress — An Elopement — The Tale of a Basket— Lady 
 Compton's Expectations — Literary Associations of Canonbury . 233 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 BUCKINGHAM PALACE. 
 
 The Largest English Palace — The Site and its Memories— Mary Davies 
 the Heiress, and her Marriage to Sir Richard Grosvenor — James 
 I.'s Mulberry Garden — Arlington or Goring House — The Duke 
 of Buckingham — Buckingham House a Royal Residence — George 
 III. and bis Library — The Meeting between the King and Dr. 
 Johnson— Queen Victoria as the Occupant of Buckingham Palace 239 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF ST. PAUL'S. 
 
 A Long Ascent — The Preservation of Ancient Records — Bishop Compton 
 — The Model of Wren's Favourite Design for the Cathedral — 
 The Manuscripts — "Bishop and Portreeve" — Odd Names — 
 Priests' Sons ........ 250 
 
 CHAPTER XXH. 
 
 LONDON A CENTURY AGO. 
 
 Alterations in Half a Century — In a Century — Piccadilly in 1801 — 
 Southwark — London Bridge — St. George's Fields and South 
 London — Prison Abuses — Tyburn and the Gallows — The Roads 
 — A Walk from North to South — A Frenchman in London — The 
 Old Bailey— The English Character . . . .262 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 KENSINGTON. 
 
 In Search of a Palace — Holland House, its Architecture and Associa- 
 tions — Purchase of Nottingham House by William III. — Its 
 Conversion into Kensington Palace — Sir Christopher Wren and 
 William Kent — The Serpentine — The State Apartments —Royal 
 Deaths in the Palace — Queen Anne — Queen Caroline — The 
 Cupola Room — The Room in winch Queen Victoria was Born . 280 
 
 Index ......... 289
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 *l 
 
 The Angel in the Vestry of St. Olave's Church, Hart Street 
 Remains of St. Michael's Chapel, Aldgate ; and South 
 
 Gate of Duke's Place, Aldgate 
 Crosby Hall .... 
 View in Bishopsgate Street . 
 Room and Furniture, 15th Century 
 A Sleeping-Chamber in the 14th Century 
 Two Illuminations from a MS. by Rene" D'Anjou 
 Margaret, Queen of Henry VI., Daughter of Rene D'Anjoi 
 Henry VI. and his Court 
 Prisoners on the Way to Newgate . 
 Newgate Chapel — Execution Sunday 
 The Gallows and Drop, Newgate . 
 Tothill Fields 
 
 Remains of Old Palace at King's Langley 
 King's Langley Church 
 
 Monument of Sir Christopher Hatton in Old St. Paul's 
 Old St. Paul's .... 
 
 Distant View of Old St. Paul's 
 South Front of the Ranger's Lodge, Green Park 
 Fishmongers' Hall .... 
 Stationers' Hall .... 
 Merchant Taylors' School, Suffolk Laue . 
 The Mercers' Cup, the Ironmongers' Salt, the Richmond 
 Torrington Monument, Berkhampstead Church 
 John of Berkhampstead, Abbot of St. Albana 
 Temple Bar in 1800 .... 
 Temple Bar in 1900 . 
 Old View of Searle's Court, Lincoln's Inn 
 Inner Temple in 1796 
 St. Katharine Coleman 
 Crypt of St. Bartholomew the Great 
 St. Helen's Church and Priory 
 Interior of St. Ethelburga's, Bishopsgate . 
 
 . . Frontispiece 
 
 To face page 
 
 1 
 
 !» • 
 
 10 
 
 ■ *) • 
 
 16 
 
 )! • 
 
 24 
 
 )! 
 
 28 
 
 >; " • 
 
 30 
 
 I 
 
 36 
 
 !) • 
 
 40 
 
 • J 
 
 46 
 
 1) 
 
 50 
 
 J5 
 
 52 
 
 ■ ) • 
 
 58 
 
 >> 
 
 64 
 
 )) 
 
 68 
 
 )> ' 
 
 74 
 
 >! 
 
 76 
 
 >> ■ 
 
 78 
 
 )) 
 
 86 
 
 )! ■ 
 
 90 
 
 5) 
 
 94 
 
 )) 
 
 98 
 
 UP » 
 
 102 
 
 )> 
 
 106 
 
 }) 
 
 . 110 
 
 »J 
 
 114 
 
 )) 
 
 116 
 
 )) 
 
 118 
 
 )) 
 
 . 120 
 
 >J 
 
 124 
 
 )> 
 
 . 12S 
 
 )! 
 
 . 134 
 
 )> 
 
 . 138
 
 XII 
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 The Navy Office, Pepys' Residence, 1660-1669 . 
 
 Museum and Library, Tring 
 
 Wren's First Design for St. Paul's . 
 
 Model by Stevens of the Wellington Monument . 
 
 Central Figure for the Mosaic in the Apse of St. Paul's 
 
 The Recording Angels, for the Mosaic in St. Paul's 
 
 The Chapel Royal, Savoy, in 1777 . 
 
 The Chapel Royal, Savoy, before the Fire in 1864 
 
 Northumberland House, Charing Cross 
 
 The High Street, Guildford, looking West 
 
 Committee Room, Abbot's Hospital, Guildford 
 
 The King's Presence Chamber, St. James's Talace 
 
 The Chapel, Guildhall Yard 
 
 The Old Council Chamber, Guildhall 
 
 The New Council Chamber, Guildhall 
 
 Muniment Room, Guildhall 
 
 Crypt of the Guildhall 
 
 The Hamlet of Canonbury . 
 
 Buckingham House . 
 
 The King's Library, Buckingham Palace 
 
 The Library, St. Paul's Cathedral . 
 
 The Old Houses of Parliament, 1821 
 
 Westminster Bridge, Hall, and Abbey 100 Tears Ago 
 
 The Southwark End of Old London Bridge, 1S31 
 
 Hosier Lane, Smithfield, in 1809 
 
 Stoneware Plate, in Author's Possession, bearing Vie <,v 
 
 of Tyburn Gate, 1750 
 Old Kensington Church in 1750 
 The Room in Kensington Palace in which Queen Victoria 
 
 was Born 
 
 To face page 148 
 156 
 164 
 170 
 176 
 182 
 188 
 192 
 196 
 202 
 206 
 212 
 222 
 226 
 228 
 230 
 232 
 236 
 240 
 246 
 254 
 262 
 264 
 266 
 272 
 
 276 
 
 282 
 
 286
 
 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. ' 
 
 LONDON FIVE CENTURIES AGO. 
 
 Aspect of London Five Centuries Ago — The Walls and Gates — 
 The Fleet— Fleet Street and the Strand— Charing— The 
 Hole-bourne — Smithfield and St. Bartholomew's — The New 
 Gate — Cheap — Richard Whittington and Hemy V. — Pawn- 
 broking — Eastcheap — The Tower — London Bridge — St. 
 Saviour's — Becket, " St. Thomas of London." 
 
 In the first of these chapters I propose to attempt a survey 
 of London as it was when Edward III. was King. That 
 famous monarch came to the throne on Saturday, the 
 24th of January, 1327, when he was proclaimed at the 
 door of Westminster Hall and in the City of London. 
 He died at Richmond, then called Shene, in Surrey, on 
 the 21st of June, 1377. Five hundred years had, there- 
 fore, elapsed in 1877. If we take our five hundred years 
 from the end of the nineteenth century, we find ourselves 
 at the dismal close of his successor's reign : the Wars of 
 the Roses were about to commence. When they had 
 deluged England, and we may say France also, with 
 blood, for a hundred years, they finally ceased when the 
 last male descendant of Edward III. was beheaded, on the 
 24th of November, 1499. He had spent the twenty-five 
 years of his short life in prison for what was then the 
 
 B
 
 2 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 unpardonable crime of being a prince of the old royal 
 house. A few years before, the name " Plantagenet," 
 which had been borne by Geoffrey, the father of our first 
 Angevin King, had been discovered and assumed by 
 Edward IV., and perhaps his brothers ; and immediately 
 afterwards the last Plantagenet perished, like so many of 
 his relatives, on Tower Hill. 
 
 Five centuries ago, then, the hundred years of war had 
 scarcely begun, and we have set ourselves to find out, 
 as far as we can, what London was like in those days. 
 We may begin with the topography. One sentence 
 will show how very different its aspect was then 
 from what we see now. The inhabited portion was 
 almost confined to the City proper. Although the 
 population of that portion was large — considerably larger 
 than it is now — the area was very small, the houses being 
 for the most part within the walls. The merchants 
 lived in their places of business, and every house and 
 street was crowded with citizens. They did not, as now, 
 resort to the City only hi the daytime for business, and 
 keep villas in the suburbs. Few except the monks and 
 the day-labourers dared to live beyond the protection 
 of the City walls. There was no Abbey within the walls, 
 but the houses of friars and canons abounded. The 
 poorer shopkeepers in Cheap, and the men emplojed as 
 porters, bricklayers and unskilled labourers in general, 
 lived, as we are told by contemporary chroniclers, outside 
 the walls, at Stepney, Stratford and Hackney ; their 
 migrating to the eastward being possibly induced by the 
 freedom of All-gate, now called Aldgate, from the tolls 
 levied at other points of exit — if indeed this is the correct 
 interpretation of a name almost always spelt Alegate in 
 the fourteenth century and later. 
 
 The walls commenced at the Tower, between which
 
 REMAINS OF ST. MICHAELS CHAPEL, ALDGATE. 
 (From a Print in Lambert's "London," 1805.) 
 
 
 nr^J&z 
 
 ^£^SV ^ y ,> ■ 
 
 SOUTH GATE OF DUKE'S PLACE. ALDGATE. 
 (From a Print in Pennant's "London," 1793.)

 
 LONDON FIVE CENTURIES AGO. 3 
 
 and the City wall there was a ditch ; and we read of Edward 
 III. ordering the ditch to be cleared lest it should overflow 
 into the fortress. No wonder that we find about the same 
 time a bill for medicines supplied to the unfortunate King 
 of Scots, who had been a prisoner for eleven years. 
 The bill amounts to £2 12s. 9d. This sum represents 
 between £40 and £50 in our money. From the Tower 
 the wall passed northward as far as Aldgate, fragments 
 of which were still standing on the spot a hundred 
 years ago ; in fact, very few of the City gates had been 
 demolished till long after George III. came to the throne. 
 
 Outside Aldgate there was a small village, or hamlet, 
 called Whitechapel, and near it a house of Sisters of the 
 Franciscan Order of St. Clare. They were popularly 
 called Hinoresses, and their house, which was a priory, 
 was described as an abbey. It left its name to the 
 Minories. Spital Fields, close by, derive their name from 
 a Hospital' of St. Mary, which occupied a place called 
 Lolesworth, outside Bishopsgate. The Minories were long 
 the headquarters of the armourers who worked in the 
 Tower. Shoreditch lay a little to the west, and was the 
 estate of an honourable family of the name of Shore, many 
 of whom were City merchants. One of them, a jeweller, 
 was the husband of Jane Shore, who attained an unenviable 
 notoriety in the reign of King Edward IV. 
 
 Then outside Moorgate was a moor or heath, and in 
 the hollow nearer the City wall a piece of marshy ground 
 which is often said to have given its name to the district 
 of Finsbury. But the name is more probably personal, 
 and denotes the residence of Fin, who may have been 
 a Danish settler, like his neighbour Hacon, who is com- 
 memorated in Hacon's ey, or Hackney. The street now 
 called London-wall still shows the marks of the great 
 foss which ran under the wall ; and parts of the fortifi-
 
 4 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 cations themselves may still be seen a little to the west 
 of Moorgate, at Cripplegate churchyard. In the same 
 direction there was a small gate or barbican, which 
 has given its name to a modern street ; and to the 
 covered way, or Crepulgeat, which led to it, and not 
 to any assembly of beggars, we may attribute the 
 name of the neighbouring church, which stood outside 
 the walls. There were herb markets outside the walls, 
 some of which may still be identified by such names as 
 Camomile Street, Wormwood Street, and St. Mary 
 " Matf elon," where " knapweed " or " centaury " was sold 
 under its French name.* 
 
 Aldersgate stood close to where the General Post 
 Office has been built ; the name reminds us of Aldred, a 
 very early citizen who built the gate, possibly at the time 
 of King Alfred's settlement. Next, to the west, came 
 Newgate, which seems to have been used as a prison for 
 London and Middlesex as early as 1218.f Holborn Bars 
 were a kind of outwork to Newgate, and there was some 
 fortification near them, the site of which is indicated by 
 Castle (now Furnival) Street. Then came Ludgate, which 
 is a name like Cripplegate, recalling a lidgate, or postern, 
 in a fortification. Ludgate is mentioned in documents 
 as early as 1273 at least. Temple Bar was a City boundary 
 beyond the Fleet Bridge, where now is Farringdon Street ; 
 and the wall ended close to where Blackfriars Bridge now 
 stands ; its direct course from Newgate to the Thames 
 having been altered in 1276 to take in the new priory of 
 the Dominicans, or Blackfriars.J 
 
 There was some protection also along the river ; and 
 we hear of Dowgate and Billingsgate among other modes 
 
 * I owe this reference to the kindness of Professor Skeat. 
 t See Chapter III., p. 45. 
 X See Chapter X., p. 114.
 
 LONDON FIVE CENTURIES AGO. 5 
 
 of access to the water ; but, except a strongly fortified 
 castle at each end of London Bridge, there were few 
 attempts at defence on that side. Baynard's Castle was 
 pulled down by the Black Friars, as well as Montfitchett's 
 Tower, both being parts of the old City defences. A 
 second Baynard's Castle, that which is mentioned by 
 Shakespeare, was built some distance to the eastward, 
 beyond the friars' precincts. 
 
 If we return to Ludgate and pass out through the 
 gate, we find ourselves at the small bridge which conducts 
 us over the Flood, or Fleet. Vessels are moored in this 
 little river as high as the bridge ; on the right we see the 
 pleasant orchards of the Bishop of Ely and the Earl of 
 Lincoln, at the top of the slope, in front of which, from 
 the Thames to Hoi born, crosses the Show Well Lane, a 
 leading thoroughfare in those days, now called Shoe 
 Lane. Lincoln's Inn was no longer in the Earl's hands, 
 and the lawyers' chambers were very soon to convert it 
 to another purpose. 
 
 In 1307, we find the Earl of that time complaining 
 to Parliament— which sat then at Carlisle on account 
 of the King's expedition to Scotland— that vessels could 
 hardly reach the bridge of the Fleet, so much was it impeded 
 by rubbish thrown into it, and reciting that hitherto 
 they had been able to go up as far as King's Cross, where 
 there had been wharves for the reception of merchandise. 
 
 If we pursue our way along what is now Fleet Street, 
 we pass on the left the house of the White Friars, and, 
 before we reach Temple Bar, the great monastery of the 
 Knights Templars, then called the New Temple, to 
 distinguish it from their former habitation near Hoi born. 
 In this place the King's jewels or " jocalia " were deposited 
 for safety by most of the sovereigns until the time of 
 Henry III. King John had begun to use the Tower for
 
 6 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 this purpose, and thither the regalia were finally removed 
 in 1252, when the crown and other objects which had 
 been lost in the Wash were renewed for the coronation of 
 Henry III., and lasted till 1G49. 
 
 Passing through Temple Bar, we find ourselves in 
 open country. The road, now the Strand, is a mere 
 muddy track, overgrown with bushes, and skirted on the 
 right by gardens and thickets. On the left, between 
 the road and the river, are a few half-fortified town houses 
 of the bishops, Exeter House, where now is Essex Street, 
 being perhaps the first and most important. Pleasure 
 grounds and gardens are round them and the Temple, 
 and walks along the Thames, like what we still see at 
 Richmond and Twickenham. At St. Clement's Church 
 there are a few houses, said to be the remains of a colony 
 of Danes who settled here before the Conquest ; many 
 of them are pleasure houses and taverns, much resorted 
 to by the youth of the City, who come to drink of the 
 water of the neighbouring holy well, and to play at various 
 games in the open fields of Lincoln's Inn. Most probably 
 they are often entertained here with stories about the 
 grim Danish king, son of Canute, who lies buried in the 
 neighbouring church : how, when he had killed himself 
 by his gluttony at Lambeth, his body was buried in West- 
 minster Abbey, and was dug up again by his brother 
 and successor and thrown into the Thames ; and how one 
 day a fisherman, drawing his net to shore, was astonished 
 at the unusual weight until the royal body was discovered ; 
 and how it finally found a resting-place in the parish 
 church of St. Clement. 
 
 Going on still to the westward, we come to what was 
 called Aldwych Road (Aid Wych seems to mean the Old 
 Village), afterwards Wych Street and Drury Lane ; and 
 if we turn to the north along this ancient road, leaving
 
 LONDON FIVE CENTURIES AGO. 7 
 
 on our left the garden of the Convent of Westminster, 
 we pass the church of St. Giles-in-the-Fields, and emerge 
 in the Oxford Road, near the pleasantly situated village 
 of Holborn. 
 
 As we pass through St. Giles's Fields we may notice 
 the hospital of St. Giles, near the cross road formed by 
 the Old Wych Sreet, and what is now New Oxford Street. 
 Here in the fourteenth century was a pond called the 
 Rugmere. William Bleomund drained it to improve his 
 own house, Bleomund's bury, or Bloomsbury, and in our 
 own time Oxford Street was here continued eastward 
 to meet the street of Holborn, which had previously been 
 diverted to pass south of the mere. 
 
 Beyond the road by which we have arrived at Holborn 
 from the Strand, and running nearly parallel to it, is 
 a narrow road, or track, called Hedge Lane. It cannot 
 be identified exactly with any modern street, but it ran 
 parallel with St. Martin's Lane. Commencing at the village 
 of Charing, it passes St. Martin's Chapel, on the site of which 
 a church was erected by Henry VIII. , then really " in the 
 fields," like St. Giles's, and a little further on the entrance 
 to the great Reading Road, now Piccadilly. The foot of the 
 lane at Charing is marked by a cross, sacred to the memory 
 of Queen Eleanor, the wife of Edward I. Some have 
 fancifully derived the name of Charing from the French 
 words chere reine, referring to Edward's love for his queen, 
 but, unfortunately for such a pretty idea, the village 
 has borne the same appellation from Saxon times, 
 long before the cross was set up. Near Charing is the 
 magnificent palace of the Archbishops of York, surrounded 
 by pleasant gardens and a park which stretches away 
 to Westminster. This palace was afterwards known 
 as Whitehall, the gardens as Spring Gardens, and the 
 Park as St. James's.
 
 8 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Near the Cross, where now stands the Nelson Column 
 with Sir Edwin Landseer's lions, was an aviary or mews 
 for the King's hawks. The word " mew " signifies, in 
 the technical language of falconry, a moulting place, 
 and is so used by Shakespeare. That falcons were 
 in great esteem in those days will be proved by the 
 fact that— unless the law has been very recently 
 repealed — it is still felony, by Act of Parliament, to 
 steal a hawk. The following extract from the Ward- 
 robe Accounts of Edward I. relates to the royal mews 
 at Charing Cross:— "For timber whereof to make the 
 King's mews, and carriage of the same from Kingston 
 to the said mews, as well by land as by water : diver keys 
 for the same, and for repairing the keys of the gerfalcofns 
 bath ; for iron rings for the curtain of the mews be'ore 
 the said falcons, and for turfs bought for the herbary 
 of the said falcons, £25 Os. 2d." This sum represents no 
 less than £500 of our money, not counting the twopence. 
 It was in the same days that the Bishop of Hereford paid 
 his falconer 3s. 4d. a half year ! The royal mews were 
 established in 1377, were turned into stables in 1537, and 
 were finally taken down in the reign of George IV. 
 
 We must pass for the present the great palace of the 
 Savoy, of which the twice-restored chapel* still remains 
 to this twentieth century ; and returning towards the 
 City by Rugmere and St. Giles's, we find ourselves at the 
 top of Holborn Hill. In the valley below runs the Fleet, 
 and frowning from the opposite steep we see the city 
 towers, and high above them all, to the right, the spire 
 of St. Paul's, at that time the tallest steeple in Christendom , 
 if, as some say, it was 180 feet higher than the ball and 
 cross on the top of Sir Christopher Wren's dome. 
 Immediately opposite us we see the tower of St. Sepulchre's, 
 
 * See p. 187.
 
 LONDON FIVE CENTURIES AGO. 9 
 
 just at the top of the hill, and outside thejortilications 
 of Newgate. As we begin to descend we pass St. Andrew's 
 on the right, and the palace of the Bishop of Ely on the left. 
 This palace was famous for its gardens, which are referred 
 to by Shakespeare. The names Hatton Garden and 
 Ely Place preserve for us indications of the site on the banks 
 of the Hole-bourne, which winds past the crocus beds (now 
 Saffron Hill), and perhaps the fields and slopes and trees, 
 commemorated now in the local names of Hockley (oak 
 held), Vineyard, Pear Tree, Cherry Tree, Apple Tree, 
 as well as the Spa Fields, and Cold bath Square, and Back 
 (or beck) Hill. Next we find ourselves at the entrance 
 of Cow Lane, by which we ascend the hill and enter 
 Smithfield. Cow Lane has but few houses in it. It is 
 not a pleasant place in which to live, for just at the end, 
 as we emerge on the open space, we pass a spot known as 
 the Elms ; and if you are curious in such matters, you 
 may see the great elmwood gibbets, placed here by 
 Henry III. They were usually decorated with a body 
 or two, or at least a skeleton, the supply being easily kept 
 up as long as criminals were hanged in Smithfield and 
 the Sheriffs had not noticed the superior advantages offered 
 by Tyburn. 
 
 Smithfield was the chief place for all City assemblies 
 after the Dean and Chapter had obtained the King's 
 help in obstructing the old place of the Folk Mote at the 
 western end of Cheap. It was in Smithfield that the 
 boy King, Richard, had met Wat Tyler and his followers, 
 near the beginning of his reign. Here, for centuries, 
 the principal cattle market was held. It was also the 
 scene of tournaments and merry makings, and the annual 
 fair was supposed to be for the benefit of the neighbouring 
 hospital. 
 
 Crossing Smithfield, we come to the porches of a
 
 10 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 magnificent church, the west end of which projects far 
 into the open space. It is St. Bartholomew's Church, 
 and the priory buildings surround it. A beautiful door- 
 way leads into the south aisle of the nave. This doorway 
 is destined to remain a witness to the splendour of the 
 other buildings, and in the days of King Edward VII- 
 to form the entrance to St. Bartholomew's Churchyard. 
 But you care little to look at the church or priory, for 
 opposite the gate is a post about three feet thick and eight 
 high. It is charred all over, as if it had been partially 
 burnt. It is sunk deep in the ground at the foot, and 
 has two or three iron staples and rings driven into each 
 side. You shudder and pass on. 
 
 Turning to the right, with the wall on your left hand, 
 you follow what is now Giltspur Street, so called from the 
 armourers' shops under the wall, and the space, from 
 Newgate to Smithfield, along which short races could be 
 run and tilting practised. 
 
 We proceed at once, past St. Sepulchre's Church, to 
 enter the City through the New Gate, of whose history 
 I have something to say further on. If you are 
 charitably disposed you will stop to put a farthing or two 
 into the bag which you see hanging by a long string from 
 one of the windows ; and if you are rich, perhaps you 
 will put in a penny, equal to a shilling at least of modern 
 coinage. The bag is quickly drawn up and emptied by 
 the poor starving wretches above. I remember in 1847 
 to have seen prisoners' hats hanging by a string from 
 the windows of the Vicaria at Naples. In 1886 I saw 
 prisoners begging in the same way at Lisbon. Frightful 
 stories have been told of the condition of Newgate in 
 common with all the prisons of those days ; nor did they 
 much improve until a period but little removed from 
 our own. Strange to say, they were almost all either
 
 
 wmmm 
 
 
 < s 
 
 > 
 en 
 in 
 O 
 oc 
 o 
 
 a
 
 LONDON FIVE CENTURIES AGO. 11 
 
 private property or were leased to a private individual, 
 who made what he could out of the necessities of his 
 miserable charge. 
 
 As you proceed through Newgate Street, you per- 
 ceive that all along the left hand of the way the space is 
 occupied by another convent. This time it is the Grey 
 Friars. The Church, which is at the extremity of the 
 street, is very magnificent. In later times, after the 
 Great Fire, it was pulled down, and the present Christ 
 Church built on part of the site ; but before the sixteenth 
 century the visitor was able to see some very remarkable 
 tombs within its walls. These tombs were wantonly 
 destroyed by a Lord Mayor of Queen Elizabeth's time. 
 Among others, you might have seen the monuments of 
 four queens — Margaret of France, the second wife of 
 Edward I. ; her niece, the wicked Isabella, whom Gray 
 calls the " She-wolf of France " ; her daughter, Joan 
 of the Tower, Queen of Scotland ; and Isabella Fitzwarren, 
 in her own right Queen of the Isle of Man. Near them 
 lies the body of Roger Mortimer, Earl of March, the in- 
 famous companion of Isabella. As if in mockery of 
 death, we read that upon Queen Isabella's breast, in 
 the tomb, was deposited the heart of " her murdered 
 mate," Edward II., in a gold vase. 
 
 Opposite the Grey Friars stands the town mansion of 
 the great Earls of Warwick. Here a few years later 
 was held the semi-regal court of the King-maker, to whom 
 the estate descended by his marriage with one of the 
 heiresses of the last of the Beauchamps. Some steps 
 further and we are in Paternoster Row, so called from 
 the number of text writers who live here and in the 
 neighbourhood of Ave Maria Lane, Amen Corner, and 
 so on. Here also in those days lived the makers of beads or 
 rosaries, popularly called paternosters and aves. The row
 
 12 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 was, if possible, narrower than it is now, and was Ijordered 
 on one side by the wall of the great Cathedral Close. The 
 wall was overhung with trees, probably belonging to the 
 garden of the great Earl in Warwick Lane and that of the 
 great Bishop whose palace formed part of the cathedral 
 buildings. There were many gardens and orchards, 
 especially towards the river. Among the City Records 
 is one of an inquest held on a boy named Adam Schot, 
 who was killed by falling from the bough of a pear tree 
 in a garden in St. Michael-Paternoster, on the south of 
 the cathedral. 
 
 At the north-east end of the Close is an archway ; 
 and here, if you are so disposed, you may enter to hear 
 the sermon at St. Paul's Cross. Any description of the 
 great Cathedral would require a chapter to itself,* so we 
 will not pause now, but enter Cheap, or Cheapside, the 
 great market-place of the City. It is very narrow ; there 
 is hardly room for one horse to pass along the centre of 
 the street in most places ; yet this is the chief thorough- 
 fare from the centre of the city towards St. Paul's and 
 Ludgate Hill, as well as towards Newgate. Before 
 Ludgate and Fleet Bridge were built, Newgate was the 
 only exit on this side. Cheapside is full, in the wider 
 parts, not only of shops, but of open stalls, where all kinds 
 of merchandise are exposed for sale. 
 
 London is already famous for the importance of its 
 trade. The Hall of the Mercers, one of the chief companies 
 of the City, stands about half-way along the street, upon 
 the site of the house in which the great Thomas Becket 
 was born. Towards the south side is the old parish 
 church, St. Mary Aldermary, and in the centre, 
 St. Mary-le-Bow, with line Norman arches of stone — 
 
 * See Chapter VI., p. 71.
 
 LONDON FIVE CENTURIES AGO. 13 
 
 probably regarded as wonderful in the twelfth century, 
 when the church was built. 
 
 At the entrance to Cheapside, where a road or street 
 leads towards Aldersgate, is the market cross ; and here, 
 by the church of St. Michael " le Querne," is a place for 
 weighing the corn brought to market. The famous 
 : ' Panyer " was probably the appropriate sign of a house 
 near the spot ; the meat market or shambles were where 
 Paternoster Square has now been built. Next, as you 
 go along you see the localities devoted to the different 
 wares which are sold : Bread Street, Milk Street, Honey 
 Lane, Friday Street for dried Fish, Cordwainer's Street, 
 now Bow Lane, Hosier Lane, and at the further end the 
 Poultry market may be noticed. The Stock fish market 
 was beyond the Poultry ; and two other kinds of stocks 
 have existed near the same place : namely, the stocks for 
 the punishment of petty offences, where the Mansion 
 House is now, and the Stock Exchange a little further 
 on ; but I do not think the similarity of the names is 
 anything but a coincidence. There is no open space 
 opposite the Mansion House ; in fact, there is no Mansion 
 House ; the Lord Mayor lives in his own house, and enter- 
 tains in the hall of the Company to which he belongs. 
 Half-way through the Cheap, and opposite St. Mary-le-Bow, 
 is Guildhall. In the open space between, a great 
 tournament was held in 1329 by Edward ni., when a 
 scaffolding fell, by which several persons were injured. 
 The council would have prosecuted the carpenters, but they 
 were released on Queen Philippa's intercession. At the 
 extremity of Cheapside is the Wallbrook, with many 
 bridges ; and across it a church, where the Royal Exchange 
 was built three centuries later ; and another, St. 
 Christopher's, where the Bank of England afterwards 
 rose. To the south, on the same eastern bank of the
 
 14 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 brook, is the Wool Market, with three churches in it, 
 
 all dedicated to St. Mary, Woullenhithe, Woolchureh Haw, 
 and Boat Haw. 
 
 The number of churches in London has always been 
 very great since the twelfth century. Long before the 
 time of King Edward III., they were reckoned at 126 
 parish churches, besides the chapels of thirteen convents, 
 and no fewer than seventy chantries and chapels attached 
 to St. Paul's. The steeples of some of these churches were 
 higher than any in modern London ; so as there was not 
 much smoke to obscure the view, the City must have looked 
 very beautiful from a distance. That there was little 
 smoke we infer from the fact that coal was still rare in 
 London ; and so unwholesome were its fumes considered 
 that we hear of a man in the reign of Edward I. having 
 been sentenced to death for using it. Indeed, nothing 
 strikes us more when we study those times than the ease 
 with which a man might get himself hanged ; and it 
 seems strange that three centuries had to pass before 
 our legislators learned the wisdom of the saying, " It is 
 the worst use to which you can put a man." 
 
 Proceeding on our way through Cornhill, we pass St. 
 Michael's Church, and, a little farther on, the street which 
 leads to one of the outlets of the wall at Bishopsgate. Just 
 within the gate we see the magnificent mansion which 
 Sir John Crosby has almost completed. A bystander 
 will perhaps inform us that the ground belongs to the 
 prioress of St. Helen's (another convent !), and that Sir 
 John pays her £11 Gs. 8d. per annum for the lease. In 
 the hall of the mansion you may see one of the first fire- 
 places used in England in such a building. Logs were 
 usually burnt in the centre of the floor, and the smoke 
 escaped — or, more probably, did not escape — by a hole in 
 the roof. It was, therefore, customary on great occasions
 
 LONDON FIVE CENTURIES AGO. 15 
 
 to burn spices and sweet scented wood in those places. 
 During the third mayoralty of Sir Richard Whittington, 
 in 1419, he entertained King Henry and his bride, 
 Katherine of France, at a sumptuous banquet in Guildhall ; 
 and when they remarked on the sweet perfume of the 
 fire which burned in the centre, Sir Richard replied that 
 with their graces' leave he would make it even more 
 pleasant ; and drawing forth the bonds which he held 
 for more than £60,000, which the King had borrowed 
 towards the cost of his French expedition, he threw 
 them into the fire. 
 
 Tins story must be taken for what it is worth ; it 
 is told of other great kings and merchants, at home and 
 abroad, and is probably no more true than the other 
 famous story of the same Sir Richard's cat ; or the collateral 
 one that he let all his lands upon leases for " nine lives ! " 
 It is, however, true that King Henry obtained large sums 
 of money in the City for his French wars, and that he even 
 pawned the royal crown of England for 20,000 marks 
 to the Bishop of Winchester. Richard II. had not been 
 fortunate — or, to speak exactly, had not been honest — in 
 his dealings with the City. Like Henry VI., Charles I., 
 and James II., his credit in London was low, and he was 
 distrusted by the citizens. His fall was chiefly brought 
 about by this cause. 
 
 Pawnbroking was not confined to the natives of London 
 in those days ; and if we turn to the right out of Cornhill, 
 through Gracechurch Street, we shall pass the head- 
 quarters of the business in Lombard Street, so called on 
 account of the immigration of Italian jewellers and other 
 merchants, who here drove a thriving trade in money- 
 lending. The sign of the pawnbroker — the three golden 
 balls — is derived from the arms of the great Medici, Dukes of 
 Florence, which some of these merchants may have hung
 
 16 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 over their floors in honour of their native sovereigns. This 
 rem inds us to observe that none of the houses are numbered, 
 
 but that every shop has its sign, as taverns, pawnbrokers, 
 barbers, and gold-beaters have still. The lighting of the 
 streets as well as the numbering has been neglected 
 hitherto ; but soon after the accession of the Lancastrian 
 House, and owing, it is said, to such victories as Poitiers 
 and Sluys, we read of great improvements. Carpets came 
 into use, and Sir Henry Barton, when he was I/)rd Mayor, 
 in 1416, made street lamps compulsory. 
 
 When we have passed through Lombard Street we 
 find ourselves in Eastcheap, a second market place. As 
 Westcheap was on the road from the bridge to Newgate, 
 so Eastcheap was originally established on the road from 
 the bridge to Bishopsgate. It consisted, and may be 
 said still to consist, of several parts. Corn, hay, and 
 grass may have been sold in Cornhill, Fenchurch (Foin, 
 fen, hay) and Grasschurch (now Gracechurch) Streets. 
 When an older fish market near St. Paul's Wharf was 
 abandoned, Billingsgate became the great landing-place, 
 and here also the great trade in wine with the King's foreign 
 dominions was carried on. One Mayor of London was 
 Mayor of Bordeaux the next year, 1275, and from that 
 time onwards the quays and hithes of the Thames were 
 always full of merchandise, wool going out, wine and fish 
 coming in. Billingsgate and Lead en hall Markets still re- 
 main to us, though Eastcheap itself has dwindled to a street. 
 
 In Eastcheap is the " Boar's Head," a tavern in which, 
 according to local legends and Shakespeare, the future 
 Henry V., as Prince, disported himself with Falstaff or 
 Fastolf, and was committed to prison for insulting the 
 Chief Justice. Fastolf soon married a rich widow in 
 Wiltshire. As for Prince Henry, we observe that when, 
 as was then the law, the Judges were re-appointed at the
 
 
 I 
 
 
 z 
 
 
 o: 
 
 
 O 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 IL 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 cc 
 
 
 W 
 
 LU 
 
 Z 
 
 IE 
 
 o 
 
 UJ 
 
 o 
 
 DC 
 
 
 h 
 
 UJ 
 
 03 
 
 I 
 
 
 h 
 
 UJ 
 
 h 
 
 < 
 
 < 
 
 
 o 
 
 Q. 
 
 CO 
 
 s 
 
 0. 
 
 D 
 
 o 
 
 Q. 
 
 I 
 
 
 CO 
 
 UJ 
 
 CD 
 
 I 
 1- 
 
 z 
 
 Q 
 
 — 
 
 Z 
 
 
 < 
 
 § 
 
 I 
 
 LU 
 
 o 
 
 > 
 
 § 
 
 
 1- 
 
 
 D 
 
 
 o

 
 LONDON FIVE CENTURIES AGO. 17 
 
 beginning of a new reign, Gascoigne was among those 
 left out. 
 
 From the hay, grass, corn, fowl and iish markets in 
 Eastcheap we reach the Tower. King Richard often 
 resided in his palace within the walls, and it was there 
 that on a melancholy Michaelmas Day in 1399 he 
 resigned the crown to his ambitious cousin, Henry, 
 Duke of Lancaster, whose accession may be said to 
 have commenced the Wars of the Roses. On Tower 
 Hill, three years before, Richard's friend and former tutor, 
 Sir Simon Burley, was beheaded — the first of a long line 
 of statesmen who suffered on the same spot in after years. 
 Here too, in 1397, the sixth Earl of Arundel, who was 
 chiefly concerned in Burley's death, submitted himself 
 in his turn to the stroke of the headsman's axe. 
 
 Returning along the river, we pass St. Botolph's Church 
 on our left, and St. Magnus' on our right, and enter the 
 gate which opens to the roadway of London Bridge, in order 
 to reach the Borough before dark. This bridge is the 
 only one over the Thames in London. You cannot cross 
 otherwise, except by boat. The bridge is covered with 
 buildings, a gateway being at each end ; and, as you pass 
 in through the archway and pay your toll, you could 
 imagine yourself in a street and forget the river altogether 
 but for the noise of the mill wheels which are worked 
 under some of the arches, by the rush of water through 
 the narrow aperture. A roaring sound like this would 
 be most appropriate in a modern street ; but we must 
 remember that in those days there were few or no carts 
 or carriages, especially in the streets, and that the only 
 sounds were those of human voices, or the trampling of 
 horses, with the occasional clanking of a man in armour 
 as he rode along. 
 
 Half-way across, in a tiny chapel, lay buried the engineer 
 c
 
 18 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 who built the bridge, Peter, curate of Colechureh, in the 
 City. Lie died in 1205, and his bridge stood until 1832 ! 
 The houses built upon it were crowded with inhabitants. 
 Richard II. had a serious quarrel with them, for the King's 
 mother, the widow of Edward the Black Prince, was 
 insulted and pelted as she passed under one of the arches 
 in a boat. Richard, who was always glad of an excuse 
 for getting money out of the citizens, made them pay a 
 heavy fine for this offence. The same insult had been 
 offered many years before to Eleanor of Provence, the 
 mother of Edward I. Over the gate at the South wark 
 end you will see the blackened skulls of some of the victims 
 of the recent disturbances ; and will perhaps remember 
 that, like the water-gate at the Tower, this is called the 
 Traitor's Gate. 
 
 If you look back at the City from the southern end 
 of the bridge you get a very fair idea of the extent of it, 
 and of the comparative sizes of the various buildings with 
 which it is adorned. The limits are very sharply defined 
 by the Tower on the right, or eastern side, and the 
 buildings of the Temple on the left. In the centre, 
 towering above all competition, stands the great 
 Cathedral, with its glorious spire ; while the other 
 most prominent churches are those of St. Mary-le- 
 Bow, in Cheapside, St. Michael's, in Cornhill, and 
 the Grey Friars, near Newgate. Nearer the water's 
 edge you observe the great pile of Baynard's Castle 
 west of the bridge, within the City walls ; the Church and 
 Hall of the Blackfriars ; and outside, the Whitefriars, 
 the New Temple, Exeter House, the Savoy, Whitehall, 
 and far in the south-west the Clock Tower of the Royal 
 Palace at Westminster, the huge spireless shape of the 
 Abbey, and the roof of Westminster Hall. 
 
 Of these, Exeter House belonged to the Bishops of
 
 LONDON FIVE CENTUMES AGO. 19 
 
 Exeter ; and Baynard's Castle was a little later the city 
 domicile of a lady whose children played a very prominent 
 part in the affairs of the kingdom during the fifteenth 
 century. Here Cicely Duchess of York, mother of 
 Edward IV., kept a kind of Court. She was cousin of 
 the King-Maker, being herself a Neville, the daughter of 
 his uncle, the Earl of Westmorland. I speak more at 
 length of her in my chapter on Berkhampstead.* 
 
 Near the foot of London Bridge stands the Church of 
 St. Mary Overies, otherwise called St. Saviour's. It i 
 one of the largest and handsomest churches in London 
 and was destined to he the only one of any importance, 
 after Westminster Abbey, which survived till the twentieth 
 century. It forms a kind of cathedral for the Bishop of 
 Winchester, who resides in a magnificent palace not far 
 off, and who holds occasionally a Court in the Lady Chapel 
 for the trial of heretics. In the church is a monument 
 over the burial place of Sir John Gower, the poet of the 
 reign of King Edward II. 
 
 Surrounding the church are some of the oldest buildings 
 
 in London ; and, in fact, some antiquaries have been of 
 
 opinion that South wark is more ancient than the City tc 
 
 which it belongs on the opposite bank. In the principal 
 
 street you will see an inn, just then becoming famous as 
 
 the scene of part of a poem by one Geoffrey Chaucer. He 
 
 was Clerk of the Works at Westminster, and lived in a 
 
 house at the east end of the church, where the great chapel 
 
 of Henry VII. stands now. He wrote poetry which 
 
 endeared him to later ages, so that Spenser and Prior and 
 
 Cowley and many since have been buried in the same 
 
 corner of the south transept, beside him. In the Chapel 
 
 of St. Edward, close by, lies the body of Kichard, his master, 
 
 who died, or was murdered, in the same year, 1400. f 
 
 * See Chapter IX., p. 105. 
 t See Chapter V., p. 64.
 
 20 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 At Southwark the " Tabard Inn," as you pass by, is 
 probably crowded with pilgrims setting off for a visit to 
 the shrine of St. Thomas of Canterbury. JBecket was 
 looked upon as a special patron by Londoners, and St. 
 Thomas's Hospital, winch was then an almshouse, close 
 to the bridge foot, bore ample testimony for centuries to 
 the liberality of the pilgrims. St. Thomas's Chapel, 
 dedicated to the same Saint, was on one of the piers of the 
 bridge, and the Traitor's Gate at the Tower also bore his 
 name. In fact, for centuries he was called St. Thomas 
 " of London," and the house in which he was born was 
 pointed out in Cheap. It must have been one of the 
 first houses built in the Market Place, if indeed this is 
 not a fiction, like that about his mother. She was fabled 
 to be a Saracenic Princess, who followed Gilbert Becket 
 from the Crusades, knowing no English but " Gilbert," 
 and " London." Eohese Becket and her husband, the 
 Portreeve, were really of Norman extraction. Agnes, 
 his sister, married into the old City family of Agodshalf 
 (in Latin, Ex parte Dei), and the Irish Butlers, Earls and 
 Marquesses of Ormond, claim to represent them. So 
 that Anne Boleyn, some time Queen of England, whose 
 grandmother was a Butler, was descended from the saint's 
 sister. The Mercers' Chapel now marks the site. 
 
 The aspect of London, viewed from a slight distance, 
 must have been very different from anything we can see in 
 England now. No doubt the streets were no better than 
 what we should call lanes, but there were wide open spaces — 
 the two Market Places, on which stand chiefly booths, 
 with but few houses, stretching diagonally from Newgate 
 to the Tower — and plenty of gardens and trees, with very 
 little smoke. There was no wheeled traffic. Many burdens 
 were laid upon men's shoulders, and horses carried packs
 
 LONDON FIVE CENTURIES AGO. 21 
 
 and panniers. The roadways were but roughly paved, 
 and the mud was proverbial, as well as the summer dust ; 
 but from, say, the other side of the river these things were 
 not apparent. The low hills right and left of Walbrook 
 rose gently, reflecting in the surface of the stream the 
 outlines of many spires and roofs, the colours of ruddy 
 tiles and of shady trees, the tall grey steeple of St. Paul's 
 covered with lead and wooden " slats," and soaring more 
 than five hundred feet into the blue sky. Flanking it as a 
 centre were many church towers, some square like 
 St. Michael's on Cornhill, some pointed like the Austin 
 Friars, some ending in such features as the arches, 
 only finished in 1512, which made St. Mary's in the 
 midst of Cheap so famous. The houses, even the great 
 Guildhall, and such palaces as Crosby's, and Baynard's, 
 and Pountney's, were far below the churches, but 
 the louvres on many halls and the fantastic patterns 
 of many tall red chimneys added to the variety, while 
 coloured banners floated almost everywhere. Some 
 called the traveller's attention to an Inn, some bore the 
 ensigns of a Holy Guild, or of a wealthy Company, while 
 others again marked the dwelling of some mighty lord 
 from the country, or some abbot, attending Parliament, 
 or the Court. High, pointed, narrow arches ^spanned 
 the Fleet, the Walbrook, and the moat of the Tower. 
 Gathering all in a close embrace were the brown, frowning 
 battlements and bastions of the old wall, patched and 
 worn and mended, but while cannon was unknown, 
 impregnable. Their gloom was relieved here and there 
 by a course of brickwork, which was pointed out to the 
 stranger as Koman, and by the City Gates, with their 
 baileys and their deep archways, half hiding the massive 
 door and falling portcullis. To the east of the Tower 
 were the low green meadows of the Lea, to the west of
 
 22 LONDON AFTERNOON'S 
 
 Newgate the long suburban street of Jlolborn stretched 
 up the hill among the gardens and meadows. In 
 the foreground along the river, which was the chief 
 highway, the houses of the nobles and the Bishops 
 succeeded each other past Charing and on to the King's 
 great Hall, and the Abbey of Westminster, while in the 
 background pleasant villages and orchards and long green 
 lanes led the eye through St. ran eras and Islington, through 
 little Hoxton and great Hackney, to Hampstead and 
 Highgate on the well-wooded hills of Middlesex beyond.
 
 23 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 LONDON LIFE IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 Publication of London Records — Greatness of John Stow the 
 Antiquary — Houses in the Fourteenth Century — The Interior 
 — Furniture — Domestic Details — Prices of Provisions — 
 " House-Warming " of Westminster Hall — Medicine and 
 Surgery — Overcrowding — Pestilence — Abolishing the Relics 
 of Slavery — Growth of Romanist Doctrines — Ecclesiastical 
 Parties — The Friars — London and the Wars — The 
 Manufacture of Armour an Important Industry — Tho City 
 Dagger — Street Scenes. 
 
 Within a few years a large number of records have been 
 printed and published as to London life before the Wars 
 of the Roses. Mainly by the munificence of the Cor- 
 poration many valuable volumes have been issued. Old 
 papers relating to houses, dress, food, furniture, and all 
 those things which concerned the daily life of the citizens, 
 have been made public, and an immense stock has been 
 added to the information we could boast of even thirty 
 years ago. Though they were very little known until 
 lately, London is better provided with authentic historical 
 documents than any other city in the world. The series 
 stored at Guildhall, from which Dr. Reginald Sharpe 
 draws from time to time such wonderful accounts of 
 London life and manners in the Middle Ages, goes back to 
 the thirteenth century. At St. Paul's, too, are many 
 old manuscripts, some of which, going back another
 
 24 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 hundred years and more, have also been copied and printed 
 for the Library Committee of the City. History, without 
 records at once to guide and sustain it, would teach us 
 very little. When we have these documents before us 
 we can form our own opinions as to many events which 
 previously we had to accept without question or thought. 
 A revolution has in fact taken place as to our know- 
 ledge of everything that happened before the Reformation- 
 One result of better education and comparative freedom in 
 matters of knowledge and opinion, was the appearance in 
 his true character of John Stow, a man, in his own depart- 
 ment, fit to stand beside Shakespeare and Bacon and Hooker 
 among the worthies who glorified " the spacious times 
 of great Elizabeth." For his age and his opportunities 
 he was indeed wonderful. He advanced so much further 
 than any other historian of his time that only now have 
 we overtaken him— only now can we judge of what he 
 tells us, or employ ordinary criticism in dealing with his 
 marvellous " Survey." Where he had any opportunities 
 of using his eyesight— the " monstrous observations " 
 of which his contemporary Ben Jonson speaks— we may 
 accept what he says as almost infallible. But he was 
 very imperfectly acquainted with Latin— especially mediae- 
 val Latin— and could hardly read manuscript more than 
 a hundred years older than his own time. From his com- 
 plete ignorance of old English or Anglo-Saxon, coupled 
 with a most irrepressible habit of guessing, he is a very 
 untrustworthy guide in the explanation of place names. 
 He derives Holborn from Old Bourn, Ludgate from King 
 Lud, Cripplegate from cripples resorting there, Aldersgate 
 from alders growing there, and so on. Yet Stow's guesses 
 in philology are still accepted and gravely propounded 
 as solutions of questions which can only be answered by 
 means which Stow could^not employ : he had no Old
 
 ROOM AND FURNITURE, FIFTEENTH CENTURY 
 
 (From a Print by Henry Shaw, after John Schoreel.)
 
 LONDON LIFE IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 25 
 
 English dictionary, nor could he consult the researches of 
 Professor Skeat. lie lived in an uncritical age, and must 
 neither be followed blindly nor, on the other hand, rejected 
 because his ideas of historical method and historical 
 accuracy differed from those now in vogue. 
 
 It is always interesting to look through these newly 
 edited records and meet unexpectedly passages which 
 apparently were seen by Stow in the course of his inquiries. 
 Some of his facts were gathered from documents which 
 have now perished or disappeared. But when we compare 
 his work with that of his contemporaries in the same 
 field — Verstegan, for example, or even the great Camden — 
 we are more and more surprised at the thorough character 
 of his research and the absence of those prejudices which 
 mar so many learned treatises. 
 
 Our first inquiry should be as to the houses which 
 formed the London streets in the fourteenth century. 
 We know that from the time of Henry, the first mayor, 
 two hundred years before, the citizens were forbidden 
 to continue building inflammable houses to the common 
 danger, and many provisions as to walls, roofs, and especially 
 chimneys, were made. But these laws were not retro- 
 spective. We may be sure that even as late as the reign 
 of Richard II. there were many wooden houses in London, 
 many roofed with thatch, or " slats," many with chimneys 
 formed of " tuns," or barrels. For drainage there were 
 cesspits, for water there were wells, and though the fact 
 has been questioned, it is difficult to doubt that the cessation 
 of the plague after the Great Fire was much more caused 
 by the filling up of wells with cinders and ashes than by 
 the " purification by fire " to which we often hear it vaguely 
 ascribed. That similar fires did not cause the same effect 
 ia easily understood when we remember that in 1G66 the 
 New River was waiting at the gates, ready for those who
 
 2G LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 before the fire used wells, and were no1 obliged to make 
 choice of the clean water. 
 
 As to the actual design and fabric of a house built 
 in the fourteenth century we have abundant evidence. 
 In 1308, for example, William Hanyngton, a wealthy 
 furrier, a member of the Skinners' Company, owner of 
 houses in various parts of the City, and himself living 
 in the parish of St. Stephen-upon-Walbrook, called in the 
 services of Simon of Canterbury, a carpenter, to enlarge 
 and improve his house. Simon accordingly went before 
 the Mayor and Aldermen and signed a contract by which 
 he undertook to work into his design an old kitchen and 
 a living room, and to make for William a house of some 
 pretensions in the fashion of the day. It was to have 
 a courtyard, to be entered by a suitable porch from the 
 street. In the court was to be a stable, from which we 
 infer that the porch or passage was large enough to admit 
 a horse. We still see such entrances in old country inns. 
 On one side was to be the hall, on the other a large chamber 
 connected with the kitchen and a larder. But the most 
 important feature of the new house was the number 
 and size of the upper rooms. Not only were there three 
 of these on the first floor, but one at least had a garret 
 over it. We may note that this was not a civic palace 
 like Crosby Hall, but an ordinary citizen's dwelling. 
 William Hanyngton died there in 1313, leaving a widow 
 and three children ; and we may infer that, though he 
 filled no civic office, he was in easy circumstances, from 
 his bequest of £1 towards the funds for building and 
 maintaining London Bridge. 
 
 There are several other examples in the records. One 
 of them is particularly interesting. The Archdeacon of 
 Middlesex, the year after Master Hanyngton had arranged 
 for his house in Walbrook, complained to the Dean and
 
 LONDON LIFE IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 27 
 
 Chapter about the house in which lie lived— an official 
 residence, it would seem, on the south side of the precinct. 
 He was much affected by the noise of men and horses in 
 the neighbouring streets— which must have been what we 
 know as " Knightrider Street," a suggestive name— and 
 he especially complained of the mean prospect of the 
 opposite houses, and the want of quiet in the Chamber 
 called " Rosamunde," probably from the pictures or tapestry 
 on the walls. He therefore asked leave to build, and 
 mentioned a space reaching from the roadway to a certain 
 pear tree and some vines, which were not to be touched. 
 A little later, in the reign of Henry VI., there are several 
 such estimates and descriptions. In one we read of three 
 shops, and over each were to be several stories of living 
 rooms, including principal chambers, drawingrooms and 
 bedrooms ; and the)' were to be ceiled and to have windows. 
 Previously light and air were luxuries ; and people were 
 driven into the open air unless they could aft'ord large 
 halls, where rain and wind were more easily defied. 
 
 We do not find it easy to conceive the discomfort, 
 at least from our point of view, of the citizens' daily life. 
 By the way, a fashion very common at that period and 
 for long after was to call a room by the name of the classical 
 or sacred story depicted in the tapestry or painting on 
 the walls. A Chamber of Diana matched that of Rosa- 
 munde in the precincts of St. Paul's. At Westminster, 
 in what was the Abbot's house, they still show chambers 
 called Jericho and Jerusalem ; and others in the Palace, 
 which formed the royal nursery, were Heaven and Hell 
 and Purgatory, and adjoined the great hall. 
 
 It is hard to imagine the state of people who lived 
 without what to us are such ordinary things as glass 
 windows, or writing paper, or printed books. Yet in 
 London, down to the year 1400, such things were
 
 28 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 almost, some of them quite, unknown. Street lamps, as I 
 Lave mentioned on an earlier page, were made com- 
 pulsory in 1416. Chimneys were often made of wood 
 before 1419, when it was ordered that any henceforth 
 constructed, except of stone, tiles, or plaster, should be 
 pulled down. Glass was very dear, and only to be 
 had in small pieces, so that few completely glazed 
 windows were to be seen except in churches ; and the 
 poorer citizens were obliged to content themselves with 
 lattices, or with very small windows almost filled up with 
 stone or wooden tracery. In the houses of some of the 
 wealthy nobility sets of glass windows were made to be 
 removed, and were taken from place to place, as their 
 owner changed his residence. Crockery was almost 
 unknown, except as a great rarity from Italy ; and a 
 glass or majolica basin or drinking cup was worth more 
 than its weight in gold. The common people used horn, 
 or perhaps in some cases iron and pewter cups and 
 drinking vessels, and the richer sort silver, silver gilt, and 
 even gold, onyx and agate. 
 
 Crosby Hall, which still remains, and is now very 
 appropriately turned into an eating house, gives us a fair 
 idea of what the houses of the upper class in London were 
 like in the early part of the fifteenth century ; but this 
 is an extremely magnificent example, and, as we have 
 just seen, the houses of people in an inferior rank were 
 very different. Not, indeed, that such a house as Crosby 
 Hall was then would be considered comfortable nowadays. 
 The vast rooms, the through draughts, the badly fitting 
 doors and smoky fire-places, and the very imperfect 
 drainage and ventilation must have more than made 
 up for the beauty of the carving, and the magnificence of 
 the hangings on the walls— or for the general splendour 
 of the furniture and the richness of the stained glass.
 
 A SLEEPING CHAMBER IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 
 (from a Print by Shaiv, after the MS. of "Tobit," Royal MSS. 75 D 7.)
 
 a- 
 
 6U^~
 
 LONDON LIFE IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 29 
 
 The town house of the Earls of Warwick, in Newgate 
 Street ; Baynard's Castle, in which the Duchess of York, 
 mother of Edward IV., lived ; Pembroke Place, on the 
 site of which stands Stationers' Hall, and Pulteney House, 
 were all very similar, varying more in size than in general 
 arrangements. 
 
 In these fine mansions a visitor would have found a 
 strange mixture of luxury and barbarism. He would 
 have seen the great hall used as a sleeping-place by the 
 servants of the family— the bare floor being their bed, and 
 for a pillow a sheaf of rushes or straw ; while in the 
 chambers of the master and his equals he would have 
 seen the most elaborate and sumptuous couches, orna- 
 mented with heraldic devices of the richest kind, hung with 
 velvet or silk, and constructed of the softest down. Linen 
 sheets would not be so common, and in many instances 
 he would only find the bed arranged for lying upon, not in ; 
 but in others he would see counterpanes of damask or 
 satin, and sheets of the finest cloth of Cambray, or cambric. 
 The word counterpane is derived from the practice of 
 " paning " or striping various rich stuffs one with another. 
 Our words panel and pane are from the same source. 
 The walls would be hung with tapestry, generally orna- 
 mented with heraldic badges, but sometimes embroidered 
 with representations of scenes from the romances and 
 ballads which were popular at the time. For furniture 
 there would probably be in each chamber a chair or two— • 
 generally what we should call armchairs— or else stools with- 
 out any back ; also a seat in the thickness of the wall under 
 the window, and a wardrobe, sometimes of great magni- 
 ficence, but more often a mere curtained recess, in which 
 to hang clothes. A more important article of furniture 
 would be the chest, or cabinet, which would also serve 
 for a table, and would be richly ornamented with 
 
 rvv hut j *r££
 
 30 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 hinges, and perhaps painted or carved with shields of 
 arms. 
 
 The visitor would probably see no looking-glass, or else 
 only a small hand mirror of metal ; he would not find any 
 wash-hand-stand— though there might be a bath— and he 
 would but seldom find a fire-place, though he might see a 
 brazier with charcoal. The door would be protected with 
 heavy curtains, and the window would not be made to open 
 and shut ; nevertheless he would find a plentiful supply 
 of the outer air circulating in the room, some coming 
 through the imperfectly leaded window panes, some under 
 the ill-fitting door, and a great deal through the boards 
 of the walls and floor, though ceilings were now frequently 
 plastered. Carpets were more commonly used for wall- 
 hangings, though we read of their use for the floors in 
 the King's palace as early as the reign of Edward III. 
 There would be no hair brushes, though combs were in 
 common use ; and no pins, though brooches like skewers, 
 but ornamented with jewels, would be found ; metal 
 pins were first made about the reign of Edward IV. A 
 smaller bed would probably be found at the foot of the 
 great one for a servant or a guard ; and a little oratory 
 would probably occur in one corner, fitted with an image, 
 a little reliquary, and a " paternoster " or rosary of beads. 
 In a few cases you might also find a volume of prayers, or 
 the " Book of Tribulation," containing the seven penitential 
 Psalms, and in another part of the room a volume of the 
 " Romaunt of St. Lancelot du Lac," or a " Chronicle of 
 the Wars," or one of the moral treatises of Bene d'Anjou, 
 the father of Margaret, the Queen of Henry VI., such as 
 " The Mortification of Vain Pleasure," or, perhaps, " A 
 Contest Between a Devoted Soul and a Heart full of 
 all Vanity " — all of course in manuscript. 
 
 Descending to the reception rooms of the house, you
 
 o 
 
 CO 
 
 LL 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 z 
 
 o 
 
 < 
 b 
 
 
 >- 
 
 m 
 
 S 
 
 
 UJ 
 
 
 I 
 
 fe 
 
 < 
 
 ~> 
 
 U) 
 
 i 
 
 _> 
 
 j 
 
 DC 
 
 IU 
 
 m 
 
 > 
 
 "3 
 
 z 
 
 Q 
 
 
 
 Z 
 
 
 < 
 
 h 
 
 
 LL 
 
 CO 
 
 DC 
 O 
 if) 
 
 D 
 
 UJ 
 
 a. 
 
 < 
 
 o 
 tr 
 
 LL 
 CO 
 
 < 
 
 z 
 
 _1 
 
 O 
 
 I- 
 
 c? 
 
 •fc. 
 
 § 5 
 
 i
 
 LONDON LIFE IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 31 
 
 would be struck by the general want of furniture every- 
 where apparent. In the great hall there would be forms 
 at either side of a long table, which itself would consist 
 of boards laid upon trestles, and removed after each meal. 
 The forms would then be set back against the wall, or taken 
 away altogether. A cross table at the upper end of the 
 hall would be provided for the lord of the mansion, who, 
 with his wife and principal guests, would sit under a canopy ; 
 which would be not so much a matter of state as of necessity, 
 for protection from the draughts. Men all wore head 
 coverings, as they do still in the East, and women had 
 hoods and wimples, according to the fashion of the day. 
 The servants, and indeed all the family, high or low 7 , except 
 those actually engaged in cooking or waiting, would dine 
 together ; and dinner would be the principal meal of the 
 day, a slight breakfast and a slighter supper preceding and 
 following it. The Duchess of York dined at eleven in 
 the forenoon, and supped at five ; these early hours were 
 general : the judges at Westminster sat only from eight 
 in the morning until eleven, when they adjourned for the 
 day. No doubt the difficulty of performing any labour, 
 literary or manual, except by daylight, led to these arrange- 
 ments. Candle light was bad, candles were dear ; the 
 only light always available during the short days of winter 
 being that of the fire which burnt in the middle of the 
 hall — the smoke escaping by the louvre in the roof. The 
 hall of Westminster School was warmed in this way until 
 the year 1850, if not later ; and the same old method 
 may still be seen in occasional use at Penshurst Place, in 
 Kent. Crosby Hall is usually said to give us the earliest 
 example of a great hall with a fireplace, but a thirteenth 
 century fire-place and chimney are at Abingdon, and two 
 of early but uncertain date are in the Tower of London. 
 It was almost impossible, without a chimney or any certain
 
 32 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 exit for the smoke, to burn coal ; and the smoke of coal, 
 as I have said, was considered unwholesome, and its use was 
 prohibited in London by the severest enactments, until the 
 middle of the fourteenth century, nor was it by any means 
 common for a hundred years later. What beds were like 
 in 1400 we may gather from the will of Margaret Brad- 
 ford, who leaves to her servant Margaret her entire bed, 
 with its canopy of three silken curtains, a green coverlet, 
 a pair of sheets, two blankets, and a quilt. Bedsteads were 
 of wood, and there were no pillows or bolsters except for 
 the sick. 
 
 Westminster Hall was completed by Bichard II. in 
 1390. The accounts of the " house-warming " which 
 he gave in celebration of this event have come down to us, 
 and give us a lively picture of the table arrangements 
 of the period. The prices of provisions may also be easily 
 ascertained by a reference to the market regulations made 
 at different times. These prices were always much 
 affected by the visitations of the plague, which were so 
 common in London. For example, after the plague of 
 1348, in which a hundred thousand persons are said to 
 have died, a fat ox might have been bought for 4s., and a 
 fat wether for 4d. A lamb was 2d., and a pig 5d. Even 
 if we allow that money is now fifteen times more valuable, 
 these are exceedingly low rates. The usual prices were 
 much higher. One schedule gives us these particulars : 
 Between Easter and Whit Sunday a fat goose was to be 
 had for 5d., at other times for 4d., or even for 3d. Three 
 pigeons came to a penny, which is not very cheap, if we 
 calculate a penny as worth between Is. 3d. and Is. 8d. 
 of our money. The swan was much esteemed at the 
 great City feasts, costing the prodigious sum of 3s., equal 
 to nearly £2 10s. in modern currency. There were many 
 swans on the Thames ; the King's birds, and those belong
 
 LONDON LIFE IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 33 
 
 ing to the citizens, being distinguished by markings 
 annually made on their bills. The common tavern sign, 
 a swan with "two necks," properly "nicks," has its rise 
 from this circumstance. Salmon were from 3s. to 5s. 
 each, which, multiplied by fifteen, answers roughly to 
 the present prices ; whilst oysters were at 2d. per gallon, 
 which, on the same calculation, is certainly cheap. A 
 prominent feature at all great entertainments was a pea- 
 cock served " in his pride," with the feathers and train, 
 as we still see pheasants at table, with the tail feathers by 
 way of garnishing. 
 
 When Richard II. gave the feast at Westminster 
 Hall, he employed, we read, 2,000 cooks, and is said 
 to have feasted at one time above 10,000 persons, 
 ilany particulars have come down to us of this and other 
 extravagant banquets of the unfortunate Richard, but 
 none seems to have exceeded the magnificent pageant 
 displayed by the City of London at the time of his 
 coronation ; when, among other things, we read of 
 the following " sotylty " (subtlety) or device which was 
 exhibited in Cheapside. " At the upper end of Chepe," 
 says the chronicler, " was a certaine castell made with 
 foure towers, out of the which castell, on two sides of it, 
 there ran foorth wine abundantlie. In the towers were 
 placed foure beautifull virgins, of stature and age like to 
 the King, apparelled in white vestures, in every tower one, 
 the which blew in the King's face, at his approaching 
 neere to them, leaves of gold. . . . When he was come 
 before the castell, they took cups of gold, and filling them 
 with wine at the spouts of the castell, presented the same 
 to the King and his nobles. On the top of the castell, 
 betwixt the foure towers, stood a golden angell, holding a 
 crowne in his hands, which was so contrived that when the 
 King came, he bowed downe, and ottered him the crowne."
 
 34 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 This was a " sotylty " on a very large scale, but similar 
 devices were common at table ; heraldry being called in 
 to help, and great pains, if not great taste, being shown 
 in their composition. Thus, at the coronation feast of 
 Queen Katharine, wife of Henry V., we read that there 
 was a " sotylty, called a pellycan, sitting on his nest, with 
 her byrdes and an image of Seynt Katheryne holdyng 
 a booke, and disputynge with the doctours, holdyng a 
 reason in her right hande." This feast, which was held 
 in Lent, was remarkable. It consisted entirely of fish, 
 dressed in various ways ; and included, besides many kinds 
 of salt and fresh- water fish, the names of which it is not 
 very easy to identify, " porpies rostyd," and " mennys 
 fryed " — porpoises and minnows. At a feast given a few 
 years before, there were served at table, besides wild boar 
 and venison dressed in several ways, peacocks, cranes, 
 bitterns, egrets, curlews, partridges, quails, snipes, and 
 " smal byrdys " — perhaps sparrows. 
 
 After this account of the high feeding of the period, 
 it may not be amiss to say something of the state of medi- 
 cine. The monks were the chief physicians, and seem 
 to have been but moderately successful. Henry V. was 
 probably killed by the unskilfulness of his medical advisers. 
 Their prescriptions are of inordinate length, and seem to 
 be compounded in a sort of wild hope that if one drug 
 fails another may succeed. During visitations of the 
 plague, or any epidemic sickness, they appear to have been 
 utterly powerless ; although they did guess at the real 
 cause of these disorders, as we see from the many ordin- 
 ances for the better cleansing of the City, and for the 
 abating of nuisances. It was unlawful, for instance, to 
 keep pigs within certain boundaries. But, no doubt, 
 contaminated wells and the stagnant moat which sur- 
 rounded the City walls, to say nothing of that which
 
 LONDON LIFE IX THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 35 
 
 protected the Tower, were enough to account for the 
 awful visitations of pestilence to which the people were so 
 frequently subjected. 
 
 The names of two or three of the eminent physicians 
 of those days have come down to us. Master Lawrence 
 was Queen Isabella's medical adviser ; but we cannot say 
 much for his skill when we read that his royal patient's 
 death was occasioned by a too powerful dose of some 
 medicine which, although at her desire, he had adminis- 
 tered to her. We find that he was paid £2 for a w 7 hole 
 month's attendance. Another eminent practitioner was 
 Master Gun, or Quin, a monk at Bermondsey Abbey, to 
 which place many royal and noble personages resorted 
 for the benefit of his advice. During one such visit 
 Queen Elizabeth Wydeville, widow of Edward IV., died. 
 
 Surgery was no further advanced than medicine, and 
 a very slight wound was sure to be fatal. ^Imputations 
 were seldom attempted, and when attempted were 
 almost always unsuccessful. We cannot wonder at this 
 when we read that it was customary, after a man's leg 
 or arm had been lopped off with an axe, to plunge the 
 stump in boiling pitch, in order to stop the bleeding. 
 No doubt this object was effectually accomplished ! There 
 were some surgeons, nevertheless, not unskilful in reduc- 
 ing fractures and dislocations. A magnificently illumi- 
 nated MS. in the National Library of Paris contains the 
 English translation of the treatise of Guy de Chauliac, 
 an eminent French surgeon, on the " Restorynge of 
 Broken Bones." 
 
 The overcrowding of the poor in miserable hovels in 
 the City, and the want of pure water, already noticed, 
 are quite sufficient to account for the fearful mortality 
 caused by the plague in various ways. The worst visi- 
 tation seems to have been that of 1348, in which 100,000
 
 3G LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 are said to have died ; and it was rendered further memor- 
 able by the munificence of Sir Walter Manny, who pur- 
 chased a piece of ground outside the City walls and had it 
 dedicated as a cemetery for those who died of the plague. 
 Fifty thousand corpses are said to have been interred 
 here during the prevalence of the visitation ; but this 
 number is probably inaccurate and exaggerated. Sir 
 Walter, who was one of the first Knights of the Garter, ' 
 and a famous hero in the wars of Edward III., died in 
 1372, and was buried in this cemetery. He had given it 
 into the charge of a society of monks of the Chartreuse or 
 Carthusian Order, who were afterwards violently sup- 
 pressed by Henry VIII. Their last prior was hanged 
 and quartered at Tyburn, in May, 1535 ; and the site of 
 the priory and burial ground, by a new foundation, be- 
 came the famous Charterhouse School, at winch so many 
 eminent men were educated in after years, including 
 Thackeray, who, in some of his books, refers to it as the 
 Slaughter-house, and in others as the Grey Friars, a 
 name which properly belonged to Christ's Hospital in 
 Newgate Street. 
 
 The effects of the " Black Death " were of a kind we 
 cannot easily realise. Whole families were swept away, 
 not in London only, but all over England. One good 
 result followed, and many bad ones. The lingering relics of 
 the old usages of slavery were finally obliterated. Servants 
 were at a premium, bond or free. The old days were gone 
 by when the Bishop's subscription to the rebuilding of 
 St. Paul's took the form of John the carpenter, " the 
 son of our carpenter at Fulham," or when Walter Windsor 
 gave to the same pious work Godwin, his carpenter, with 
 Godwin's brothers, Ranulph and Kichard, and all their be- 
 longings. But this was a hundred and fifty years before, 
 and the pestilence had raised the value of all kinds of labour
 
 o 
 
 
 
 MARGARET, QUEEN OF HENRY VI., DAUGHTER OF KING RENE 
 
 D'ANJOU. 
 
 (From the Tapestry at Coventry. Reduced from a Print by Henry Shaw.)
 
 LONDON LIFE IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 37 
 
 by diminishing the number of labourers. There is a 
 marked change in all things of the kind after the middle 
 of the fourteenth century, but we can chiefly trace it now, 
 so far as it affected the city, by the increase in the number 
 of chantries and mass priests. The devoutly disposed 
 citizen before the twelfth century endeavoured to build 
 and endow a church, and to have a parish assigned to 
 it. By 1150 the city had been divided and sub-divided 
 until there was little room for any more. The old churches 
 were then rebuilt, and building became the characteristic 
 by which the next century is now chiefly remembered. 
 A thirteenth century church — spared by fire and even 
 by Wren, was pulled down to make room for a bank three 
 or four years ago. Very few now remain. 
 
 The Black Death of 1348 led to the establishment in 
 the older churches of endowments for the provision of 
 continual masses. The outbreaks of pestilence in 1301 
 and 1369 added largely to such bequests, and we may 
 be sure that during the domestic strife of the fifteenth 
 century they were still further increased. Such a 
 church as St. Paul's, where the number of altars 
 was almost illimitable, supported, besides the regular 
 Cathedral staff, as many as a hundred mass priests, 
 men who, though in holy orders, had been in most cases 
 unable to obtain parochial employment. Their dissolute 
 lives were proverbial. Wills are still extant in which 
 testators expressed their anxiety that the funds they 
 bequeathed for masses should not be spent upon dissolute, 
 drunken, or gambling priests. 
 
 The growth of Romanist doctrine led eventually to such 
 expedients as indulgences, and these and other develop- 
 ments led to the Reformation. So rapidly did doctrines 
 develop and so urgent became the necessity of a change 
 that it is to the same reign that we owe alike the most
 
 38 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 gigantic endowment for masses over made— that, namely, 
 of the great chapel for the repose of the soul of Henry VII. — 
 and the abolition of the whole system, both by Henry VIII. 
 There was strong antagonism during the whole of the 
 fourteenth century between the different orders and sects 
 in the Church. St. Paul's, a Cathedral of what is now 
 described as the old foundation, had its canons, and, to 
 help them, its minor canons, established and endowed 
 by King Richard II. With these, but unconnected with 
 the establishment, were the mass priests. In the twelfth 
 century and earlier, the canons, who had chielly been 
 parochial clergy, and who, from the nature of their en- 
 dowments, had risen to be country squires, lords of manors, 
 patrons of livings, were as a rule married men, as they 
 became again in the sixteenth century. After the en- 
 forcement by the Roman Church of the celibacy of the 
 clergy a great change took place in the policy of the whole 
 body of secular priests, from the Bishop down to the smallest 
 parochial incumbent, and they gradually, by a series of 
 " developments," drifted further and further away from 
 the laity and grew more out of sympathy with them. 
 I must return to the subject further on. Meanwhile, 
 the friars came in, and for a time, until the outbreak of the 
 war, they seem to have filled the place vacated by the 
 secular clergy. The differences of the Londoners with 
 Richard II. found the friars on what the citizens thought 
 the wrong side, and wlule the popularity of the mendicant 
 orders waned, their greed, winch soon almost equalled 
 that of the canons of St. Paul's in older times, increased. 
 What the canons and friars spared, the priests of the 
 chantries seized, and it is very sad to see reilected in the 
 wills printed by Dr. Sharpe from the records of the 
 Corporation the increase of superstitious terror and, 
 with it, the decrease of trust in the religion that was pre-
 
 LONDON LIFE IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 39 
 
 seated to the people by those whom they were forced 
 to regard as the agents and ministers of the powers 
 of Heaven. 
 
 The aspect of the city, then, in the closing days of 
 King Richard, and during the reigns of the three Henrys, 
 was eminently ecclesiastical. In addition to the number 
 of parish churches, the buildings of the monasteries were 
 very numerous. There were two principal kinds of relig- 
 ious bodies, the monks and the friars, in London. These 
 were all spoken of as the regular clergy in contradistinction 
 to the secular, or priests — that is, they lived according to 
 certain rules or regulations. The different orders of 
 monks were distinguished among themselves by the 
 system of rules to which they adhered. The Cistercians, 
 the Carthusians, and the Augustinians might all be classed 
 as reformed Benedictines ; and to the same order almost 
 all the abbeys and cathedrals in England belonged. The 
 friars were chiefly White, Black, or Grey. 
 
 In London and its neighbourhood the various divisions 
 of the Benedictine Order were especially powerful. To 
 them belonged the magnificent and wealthy abbey of 
 Westminster ; Canterbury and Rochester were also under 
 their dominion, as well as the stately foundation of St. 
 Alban's ; and to various denominations of the same Rule 
 were assigned almost all the monasteries in London. St. 
 Bartholomew's, and St. Mary Overies at the foot of London 
 Bridge, were Augustinian, the monks of which order were 
 generally known as Austin canons. The Cluniac Order 
 held Bermondsey Abbey, and the Carthusians the mag- 
 nificent foundation of the Charter House. The only 
 Cistercian house was the abbey of St. Mary of Graces, 
 on Tower Hill, locally called " Eastminster," being the 
 only abbey, besides St. Peter's at Westminster, in either 
 London or Middlesex. It was founded in 1349, but
 
 40 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 never flourished. And besides all these and many more 
 there were the semi-military orders of Templars and 
 Hospitallers. The Templars were originally lodged in 
 Holborn, and afterwards by the Thames before Fleet 
 Street had been built ; whilst the Knights of St. John 
 had their headquarters at Clerkenwell, in a noble building 
 the interesting old gate of which is still to be seen, as well 
 as the crypt underneath their church. 
 
 In addition to all these monks of the older orders, 
 the thirteenth century saw the rise of the Franciscan or 
 Grey Friars, and the Dominican or Black Friars, founded 
 by men who, as far as their light went, were sincere and 
 good, and who, when we consider the age in winch they 
 lived, are entitled to our admiration. They and the 
 Crutched-friars and the Friars of the Sack and others, 
 rapidly spread throughout all the countries of Europe. 
 In England the Franciscans were especially successful, 
 and thirty years from their first landing in 1226 had at- 
 tained the large number of 1,242 members, and possessed 
 forty-nine convents in different places throughout the 
 kingdom. We look in vain among the remains of 
 Franciscan convents for those glories of architecture so 
 commonly found in the ruins of the abbeys of the older 
 orders. They lived in hovels and practised the strictest 
 austerities. By their founder's precept, they were bound 
 to consider themselves lower than the lowest ; hence 
 the name " Minorites " or " Friars Minors," by which they 
 were known. St. Francis had forbidden them to apply 
 themselves to learning, by which term in those days the 
 ancient philosophies and the more modern theologies 
 were known ; they therefore addicted themselves to 
 physical studies, and were the naturalists and mathe- 
 maticians of the age. Roger Bacon Mas a member of 
 their order. Bishop (Jrosteste was their chief patron.
 
 HENRY VI. AND HIS COURT. 
 (From the Tapestry in St. Mary's Hall, Couentry. Reduced from a Print by Henry Shaw.)
 
 * 

 
 LONDON LIFE IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 41 
 
 But it was for their charities that they were best known 
 — or rather for their labours in distributing the charity 
 of others ; for they themselves professed, and even to the 
 time of their dissolution under Henry VIII. maintained, 
 an austerity of manners which forbade the acquisition 
 of riches. Nevertheless, their chief church in London, 
 wluch was partly on the site of the chancel or choir of 
 Christ Church, Newgate Street, was remarkable for its 
 ornaments, and especially for the stained-glass windows, 
 the gift of those who had benefited from the preaching 
 or ministrations of the members of the order, and the 
 dwellings of the brethren were soon in accordance with 
 the magnificence of then church. It was much the 
 same with the Dominicans, whose hall was so large that 
 Parliament could sit in it. 
 
 London was always deeply interested in the wars : the 
 citizens were constantly drilled in their trained bands, and 
 from an early period they were noted for their bravery 
 and for their fine appearance as soldiers. Many Londoners 
 fought at Hastings, and the portreeve was either killed 
 on that memorable field or died soon after of his wounds. 
 The money for distant expeditions was always forth- 
 coming, and the Londoners joined the men of Bristol in a 
 crusade across the Bay of Biscay in 1147, and took Lisbon 
 from the Moors. The Chaplain of the Fleet became the 
 first bishop of Portugal. 
 
 Foreign conquest always brought wealth to London. 
 Nor was this the only reason for its warlike spirit. We 
 find that almost all the armour which was then so important 
 a means of defence came from the City. On hearing of 
 the invasion of Louis the Dauphin, in the early part of the 
 reign of Henry III., the merchants sent the King 60,000 
 coats of mail. The citizens took part in most of the 
 expeditions to France under Edward III. and Henry V. ;
 
 42 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 and iii the Wars of the Hoses they were equally active, 
 either on one side or other, or else in their own defence. 
 Thus, during a meeting of the heads of the rival parties, 
 attended by a large number of followers, order was kept 
 in the City by the mayor with 5,000 men completely 
 armed, whilst three aldermen watched with another 
 force of 2,000 during the night. Of all the City Com- 
 panies, that of the Armourers was of the most importance, 
 and even the great Edward himself was a member of it. 
 Every King of England since his time has belonged to some 
 City Company. Edward's French wars were always 
 popular in the City, and the armourers no doubt derived 
 great benefit from them. Iron in those days came from 
 the hills and vallevs of Sussex and Kent, which were 
 full of small furnaces for extracting the ore from the 
 red earth. Remains of their shallow pits and burnt-out 
 fires are often met with ; and it may be of interest in this 
 place to mention that Walter the Smith, otherwise known 
 as Wat Tyler, or Hilliard, who in the early part of the 
 reign of Richard II. headed the Kentish insurrection, 
 was one of these iron-founders. 
 
 Perhaps also we may note here that the dagger or sword 
 in the City arms, generally supposed to have been granted 
 by Richard to Sir William Walworth for his assistance in 
 putting down this rebellion, had been there long before, 
 and was the emblem of St. Paul, the City's patron saint. 
 
 When the Black Prince and his prisoner, John, King 
 of France, made their public entry into London after the 
 battle of Poitiers, in 1356, we read that the London 
 authorities met him at Southwark, gorgeously apparelled, 
 and conducted him in state through the City to the Savoy ; 
 but the most remarkable part of the show on that 
 occasion was not so much the tapestry hanging from every 
 window, the showers of roses, or the sanded streets, but
 
 LONDON LIFE IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 43 
 
 the extraordinary quantity of arms— bows, arrows, spears, 
 and swords— exhibited by the citizens in token of their 
 warlike proclivities. It was at this time that Sir John 
 Picard, the mayor, entertained four kings — namely, those 
 of England, France, Scotland, and Cyprus, at a banquet 
 in the City. 
 
 During the reign of Edward III. cannon were tirst 
 used, and a manufactory established in the Tower by the 
 King for powder for his engines— "pulvis pro ingeniis 
 suis." In 1346 we read of saltpetre and other ingredients 
 being purchased pro gunnis. 
 
 The last scene of the fourteenth century in London 
 was long remembered. Towards the end of 1309, King 
 Richard was at Pontefract Castle in Yorkshire. News of 
 his death, " through taking thought," as many said, came 
 to London early in 1400. In March (the year did not end 
 till the 25th) his body was brought to the Tower, and 
 having been carried with great solemnity to St. Paul's, 
 was shown to the people, " his head upon a black cushion 
 and his visage open," on the 12th. Thence it was removed 
 to King's Langley, where it rested till Henry V. had it 
 brought to Westminster and laid beneath the sumptuous 
 monument which Richard had made on the death of his 
 Queen, Anne of Bohemia.* 
 
 LTow different were the scenes in the street at that 
 period from anything we are now acquainted with ! No 
 sound of wheels, or at most the slow, lumbering waggon 
 in which a great lady in bad health might choose to 
 travel to or from her town residence ; none of the dense 
 smoke to which modern Londoners are accustomed, 
 so that the dresses of all ranks of people were much 
 gayer than they are now. Here, a knight in plate 
 armour and with his horse almost concealed under iron 
 
 * See Chapter v., p. U4.
 
 44 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 trappings, jogs heavily and noisily over the pavement ; 
 a page running by his side, a squire carrying his 
 helmet behind him, and a long train of ferocious-looking 
 soldiers, some on foot, some on horseback, but all 
 clad in their lord's colours, following in single file 
 on account of the narrowness of the streets ; there, a 
 procession of white-robed monks, each with his face 
 concealed in a black hood, leads the way to the burial 
 of some eminent citizen, or conveys the sacrament to some 
 dying penitent ; here, perhaps, the Lord Mayor, or a 
 leading alderman, clad in a marone-coloured velvet robe, 
 lined throughout with fur, and wearing a scarlet silk 
 suit underneath, goes, attended by mace and sword bearers, 
 whose office was no sinecure among the turbulent populace, 
 to hold his court at Guildhall, or at Newgate ; there, 
 the shop of a herb-seller in Bucklersbury is besieged by a 
 howling mob ; while its unhappy owner, suspected, perhaps, 
 of complicity in witchcraft with the Lollards, Lord Cobham, 
 and Queen Joanna, is led away to undergo that fatal 
 ordeal which leaves no hope of escape. If he is innocent, 
 he drowns ; if guilty, he floats, and is despatched by the 
 stones and bludgeons of the crowd.
 
 45 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 NEWGATE. 
 
 Abolition of the Prison — The Associations of Newgate — The 
 Name — William the Chamberlain — State of the Prison early 
 in the Nineteenth Century — The Sunday between Trial 
 Friday and Execution Monday — Gaol Fever — Griltspur and 
 other neighbouring Streets. 
 
 The precise reasons which induce the City authorities to 
 demolish Newgate have not yet been made public. To 
 the outsider it would sometimes appear as if every 
 municipality and corporation, religious or lay, was subject 
 to periodical fits of destructiveness. As a prison, Newgate, 
 no doubt, is antiquated ; but we shall probably see the 
 present building succeeded by a smaller one for the safe 
 custody of prisoners during the Sessions, and may ask 
 without impertinence why the old prison could not have 
 been a little altered and made suitable without absolute 
 destruction. Many of the arguments against the removal 
 of Temple Bar apply with greater force here. We are 
 told, for instance, by innumerable writers that Temple 
 Bar was the last of the City gates. They forget, or never 
 knew, that it never had been a City gate ; but Newgate 
 is unquestionably one wing of a real City gate, having been 
 built on the site of the southern portion of the ancient 
 arched entrance to the City from ITolborn. 
 
 As to associations, also, Newgate is far more interesting
 
 46 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 than Temple Bar. It vies, in fact, with the Tower in tlie 
 eminence of it:- involuntary inhabitants. Though it would 
 be a mockery to .say of the present edifice that it is orna- 
 mental, it is undoubtedly one of the most satisfactory 
 public buildings in London— gloomy, strong, impressive, 
 and with its object as plainly marked on it as if the word 
 " prison " were stamped on every stone. Dance, its architect, 
 deserves the credit of having designed a perfectly simple, 
 but perfectly suitable facade, the more so as, though it is 
 three hundred feet long, it has no windows, except in the 
 central portion, which is but thirty feet in width. Although 
 the height is only fifty feet, the effect produced by the 
 mere mass and outline is comparable to that of a Norman 
 keep. The central lodge, with its numerous arched 
 windows in five storeys, has been severely criticised ; but. 
 without some such feature, the plainness of the rest of the 
 front might have failed of its due effect. The statues, 
 removed from the old gate, are somewhat incongruous, 
 and festoons of fetters form a very lugubrious kind of 
 ornament. The hundred and twenty years of its existence 
 have seen many alterations and improvements of the 
 interior, but have left the exterior substantially as it was 
 when the new building was completed. 
 
 The name of Newgate may be compared with that of 
 Newport, at Lincoln. Both belong to the entrances of 
 Roman cities. It may be too much to say that Newgate 
 is the oldest of the London city gates, but it would be 
 difficult to prove the greater antiquity of its rival, Bishops- 
 gate. As a Roman gate it has the advantage, for the 
 northern entrance to Roman London was some distance 
 to the east of the site of the mediaeval Bishopsgate, while 
 Newgate is very near the place where the Watling Street 
 reached the City wall. When the Romans had diverted 
 the old road at what is now the Marble Arch, so that it
 
 PRISONERS ON THE WAY TO NEWGATE. 
 A Halt at Baptists Head, St. Johns Lane. 
 
 (From an Old Print.)
 
 NEWGATE. 47 
 
 no longer pursued the course of the modern Park Lane 
 to the fold at Westminster, but turned towards what was 
 then the newly constructed bridge at London, the place 
 of the gate on the hill was determined by the place in the 
 valley below of the bridge over the Fleet. The Hole- 
 bourn took its name from its course among the high clay 
 banks of Coldbath Fields ; at what we call Farringdon 
 Street it turned south and became a tidal estuary, wide 
 enough for ships, probably as large as any then built.* 
 A Watergate may have existed at Ludgate, a name which 
 denotes a postern, though there are certain indications 
 to the contrary ; but the principal entrance to the later 
 Roman London must have been by Newgate. If we 
 examine a large scale map of the City, it will be seen 
 that a bastion of unusual size must have stood here when 
 the boundaries were fixed, perhaps before the thirteenth 
 century. The wall ran straight from Ludgate north- 
 ward ; but at a point which we may fix upon as the 
 site of the Roman gate there is a deep bow on the map, 
 as if to take in a large fortification. The roadway 
 from the bridge over the Fleet below did not run straight 
 into the gate, but had to make a turn under this bastion 
 of the wall, as at Pompeii and other places. The gate 
 where the road passed through it faced probably to the 
 north, not to the west. 
 
 A fragment of the road which crossed the City diagon- 
 ally from Newgate towards the great bridge over the 
 Thames still bears its ancient name ; but even here 
 the Watling Street is not quite on the original site, which 
 is more distinctly marked by Budge Row, that part 
 of the street which crossed the corner of Cheap, 
 where budge, or rabbit skin for fur, was sold. The 
 exact date of the alteration to which Newgate owes its 
 
 * See p. 58.
 
 48 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 existence will now, in all probability, never be known. 
 It must have been after the Roman occupation of 
 Britain, but that is all we can say with certainty. Of 
 Newgate itself, however, it will be safe to assert that it 
 was first built when the Romans made their new wall 
 to take in, not only the ancient city, but also its suburbs. 
 Even here, too, the exact date eludes us, but it must have 
 been between the time of Julian the Apostate and that 
 of Valentinian, or in the ten years between a.d. 3(10 
 and 370. 
 
 To account for the name " New " as applied to this 
 ancient gate we must come nearly a millennium further 
 down the stream of history. A mistake of Stow's on 
 this head has been repeated again and again. He asserts 
 that the enlargement of St. Paul's so obstructed the high- 
 way that passengers had to go round by Paternoster Row 
 to reach Ludgate. In reality the enlargement eastward 
 of St. Paul's did obstruct the Watling Street and cut it 
 off from its western extremity, now Newgate Street. 
 But though this svnchronises verv well with the re- 
 
 ~ as » 
 
 building of the old gate towards Holborn in the reign of 
 Henry I., or Stephen, it by no means follows that it was 
 caused by it. The road through Newgate existed before 
 St. Paul's itself. But Stow, and manv other writers since 
 his time, believed that Ludgate was called after King Lud ; 
 just as some writers believe or affect to believe that Holborn 
 means Oldbourne, and if anyone nowadays is of this 
 opinion, all the other improbabilities and inconsistencies 
 of the story are as nothing. 
 
 It is curious to observe that, if the " New " gate is 
 one of the two oldest, the " Aid " gate is absolutely 
 the new T est of all. Newgate was called " new " with 
 reference to an older gate, Westgate, on the same 
 site. Alegate, or Algate, which was built at the time
 
 NEWGATE. 49 
 
 when a bridge over the Lea at Stratford made an exit 
 necessary to the eastward of Bishopsgate, probably points 
 to its having been thrown open, by the Canons who made 
 it, to all. The spelling u Aldgate " is modern, and, in any 
 case, cannot mean " eald " or " old." For a time Westgate 
 was called ChamlxTlain's Gate, until, this Chamberlain 
 himself having been forgotten, his gate was called from 
 its new fabric Newgate, a name which occurs as early as 
 1285. The Chamberlain was probably the same William 
 the Chamberlain who held of the King at the time of the 
 Domesday survey (1087) a vineyard at " Holeburne," 
 near the site of the Charterhouse, and therefore not very 
 far from the gate. 
 
 The Roman fashion of making gaols of gates was 
 imported into Britain from the East. The City Chamber- 
 lain still possesses a special lock-up, and at the Conquest 
 he may have used this gate for the purpose. Ludgate was 
 also a prison— a "free prison," says Stow, referring, of 
 course, to its use for the freemen of the City. Newgate 
 was, to some extent, appropriated to the use of the in- 
 habitants of the adjoining county of Middlesex, which, 
 about the time of the rebuilding, had been granted in farm 
 to the citizens. The inconvenience of the gaol, as popula- 
 tion increased, caused the complaints which appear in 
 the pages of every London chronicle. So far back as 
 1419 there is an entry in the Letter-book of the Corpora- 
 tion, quoted by Riley, in which mention is made of the 
 foetid and corrupt atmosphere of " the heynouse gaol 
 of Newgate." Ludgate had been abolished as a prison, 
 and the result was that many " citizens and other re- 
 putable persons " were committed to Newgate, and died, 
 " who might have been living, it is said, if they had 
 remained in Ludgate, abiding in peace there." Sir 
 Richard Whittihgton was mayor at this time, and three 
 
 E
 
 50 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 years later, at his death, left money for the improve- 
 ment of Newgate, " seeing that every person is 
 
 sovereignly bound to support, and be tender of, the lives 
 of men." 
 
 Whittington's Newgate was burnt by the Gordon 
 rioters— the present prison, which had been founded a 
 few years before, being already in part completed on the 
 south side of the gate. The Surgeons' Hall, so celebrated 
 for alleged resuscitations — an authentic case occurred 
 in 1587 — stood a little further to the south in the Old 
 Bailey, but it was now removed, and a part of the 
 Sessions House stands on the site. A portion, how- 
 ever, of the older building long survived, being the 
 " condemned cells." They had a right to the name in 
 several senses ; but, though every humane person, and 
 many besides, spoke or wrote of them with horror, the 
 practice of hanging for felony declined before they were 
 removed or improved. 
 
 One writer discloses a state of things hardly credible 
 even eighty or ninety years ago. The convicts were 
 crowded like sheep in a pen. That these " unhappy beings 
 were not victims to the most malignant diseases " he 
 attributes to the kindness of the late keeper, " who fre- 
 quently assisted then wants at his own expense." This last 
 sentence suggests conditions horrible to think of, even now. 
 "When Mr. Nield visited this prison, one-half of the 
 prisoners, particularly the women, were miserably poor, and 
 covered (scarcely covered) with rags. This does not appear 
 to be so much the case just at this time." Such was the 
 state of Newgate so lately as 1815. After several even 
 more shocking details, the writer goes on to say that, 
 in order not to hurry poor wretches out of the world, 
 in strict conformity to the letter of the law, after twenty- 
 four hours, the trials for capital crimes took place on
 
 > 
 < 
 o 
 
 z 
 
 D 
 
 w 
 
 z 
 o 
 
 h- 
 
 D 
 
 o 
 
 LU 
 X 
 
 LU 
 
 _J 
 
 LU 
 
 < 
 
 I 
 O 
 
 LU 
 I- 
 <
 
 NEWGATE. 51 
 
 Fridays, as Sunday was not counted a legal day. There 
 is a curious plate — here reproduced— in the Microcosm 
 of 1'ugin and Rowlandson, which represents the interior 
 of the chapel in Newgate on the Sunday intervening 
 between trial Friday and execution Monday. It shows 
 eleven felons, two of them women, in a kind of central 
 pew painted black. In the middle of the pew is a table. 
 On the table is a coffin. This was in 1800. 
 
 A few years earlier, in September, 180J, the Sheriffs 
 were thanked, by an advertisement in the newspapers 
 (reprinted, Times, 14th September, 1001), for their humane 
 conduct. The female prisoners in Newgate speak of 
 their benevolence, " through a long and scarce season," 
 in " alleviating their infelicity." The whole paragraph is 
 made up of long words; but it shows plainly that to 
 bring "a ray of comfort to the afflicted mind of the 
 otherwise despairing captive " was considered an unusual 
 act. 
 
 In one of Johnson's letters is an account of the 
 burning of the old gate house prison. There were not 
 above a hundred Protestants at work, but they were 
 left mi molested. There were no guards to prevent them 
 from carrying out their design, "without trepidation, 
 as men lawfully employed in full day. Such," reflects 
 Dr. Johnson, "is the cowardice of a commercial place." 
 It was in the older building, then destroyed, that 
 gaol fever made such terrible ravages. In 1750 the 
 Lord Mayor and two of the judges, and others to the 
 number of sixty, died of it after the Sessions. This is 
 the less wonderful as we read that the prison was in- 
 adequately supplied with water. The new prison was 
 at first little better in this respect. Lord George Gordon 
 himself died in it of gaol fever thirteen years after his 
 followers had destroyed the older buildings. Much
 
 52 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 improvement took place in Newgate shortly after the 
 date of Rowlands! )ii and Pugin's picture, yet in 1828 
 a visitor notes that thirty condemned persons might be 
 seen in the two wards connected with the Press Yard, 
 and congratulates humanity on the fact that none of 
 them wore irons. It was only in 1817 that any classi- 
 fication of the prisoners was attempted. The coffin at 
 the " condemned sermon " was disused about the same 
 time. Mrs. Fry's exertions on behalf of the female 
 prisoners resulted in great improvements in their con- 
 dition. She taught them to make stockings and other 
 articles, that by selling them they might improve their 
 prison fare. What that was may lie guessed when it is 
 mentioned as a matter for satisfaction by a visitor in 
 1825 that a regular allowance of food is " now " made 
 out of City funds. 
 
 The alteration of this corner of the City in the past 
 fifty years has been very great. Giltspur Street, which in 
 the fifteenth century was a place where armour might be 
 repaired when a tournament was going on in the smooth- 
 field or Smithncld adjoining, was latterly best known 
 by the Sheriff's Compter, a prison which stood on the 
 north side of Newgate. The entrance to the great prison 
 nearest to Newgate Street was known as the Debtor's 
 Door. Here, from 1783, when Tyburn as a place for the 
 public hanging of criminals had been abolished, a scaffold 
 was erected and the sentence of the law was executed 
 after every Sessions of the monthly Court. Of the scenes 
 which took place here many books treat so fully that I 
 need not dwell on them. 
 
 The antiquity and persistence of tavern signs has 
 often been remarked. The "King of Denmark" will 
 probably survive Newgate itself, which gave it notoriety. 
 But there are more cheerful and in most respects
 
 <fct v J 
 
 LU 
 I- 
 < 
 
 o 
 
 LU 
 
 z 
 
 I- 
 < 
 
 o 
 cc 
 a 
 
 o 
 z 
 < 
 
 CO — 
 
 < 
 
 UJ 
 
 I 
 I-
 
 NEWGATE. 53 
 
 inure interesting associations with the street names 
 of this district. At Green Arbour Court Goldsmith 
 lived in 1758, before he removed to Fleet Street. In 
 those days the descent to the valley of the Fleet 
 was very steep, and such places as Breakneck Steps 
 and Seacoal Lane led down to the quays fronting the 
 Fleet Prison. Tbis stood on the ground now occupied by 
 the Memorial Hall in Farringdon Street. To understand 
 the " scenery " of Besant and Rice's story, " The Chaplain 
 of the Fleet," it is needful, nowadays, to thread Fleet Lane 
 and its affluent, New Court, no longer noisome alleys, 
 but clean and wholesome enough, the headquarters of 
 printing houses and paper factories, retaining few signs 
 of the ancient condition of the region — when it bordered 
 the open tidal and muddy river, reeking with the sewage 
 of Coldbath Fields and Clerkenwell, washed down to it 
 by the Hole-Bourne. A few traces of old carving, like 
 that over the entrance to Wheatsheaf Yard, or a street 
 name like Turnagain Lane or Bear Alley, recall " the good 
 old times " when the debtors begged at the door of their 
 frowning home behind the prison bars, and the city walls 
 looked down from the Old Bailey and the Newgate on 
 the cliff above.
 
 54 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ANCIENT RIVERS. 
 
 Why the Thames has become tho most Important of Rivers — The Sito 
 of Loudon — Hills and Brooks — The Highest Ground — The 
 Fleet— The Hole-bourne— The Wells— Tyburu~The Gallowa 
 — The Westbourne — " Bournes " in the City. 
 
 The causes which have made the Thames the most 
 important river in the world are many and various. 
 Similar causes are at work enlarging the great cities on 
 the Mersey, the Clyde, and Belfast Lough : while still 
 more favourable circumstances have produced no such 
 results as yet at Limerick, or Milford, or the Forth. The 
 early trade of London was, no doubt, largely influenced 
 by two kinds of security, both rare in those times. Since 
 the reign of King Alfred London has enjoyed immunity 
 from war. It has been secure from invasion. No enemy 
 has besieged it with success. No other European capital 
 has escaped siege and capture, not even Rome, in the 
 course of a thousand years. 
 
 The other kind of security was from the elements. 
 The Londoners were noted as expert sailors when we first 
 hear of them; nor was this all: a large part of their 
 maritime trade was carried on in land-locked waters. 
 The Londoner of a thousand years ago could take his 
 largest as well as his smallest boat from London Bridge 
 to within ten miles from the French coast in smooth
 
 ANCIENT RIVERS. 55 
 
 water all the year round. Ilis harbours were never frozen, 
 or so seldom that frost had not been reckoned among the 
 dangers of the deep. lie sailed down the Thames to 
 Iteeulver, where he entered the Wantsome; or, leaving 
 the main stream of the Thames at Sheerness, he could 
 make his way by the Swale ; from Reculver he passed 
 by the Wantsome to Ebbslleet, near Bichborough. Ilere 
 he reached a wider passage, sheltered by the Goodwins* 
 which seem to have been islands before the Norman 
 Concmest. lie lay behind them in safety till a favourable 
 wind and tide took him across some eight or ten miles 
 of open sea, after which he reached anchorage again. 
 The Londoners in Alfred's time were already bold sailors, 
 and the English Kings conferred special privileges on 
 those who fared frequently across. They were accounted 
 worthy of thane right. Their skill must have been shown 
 chieily in understanding the winds, tides, and currents of 
 the narrow channel. 
 
 The natural features of the district now covered by the 
 County of London may be rapidly surveyed. The great 
 flood of bricks and mortar which pours over them renders 
 it often difficult for us to distinguish field from wood, or 
 even hill from valley. Rivers and ravines are masked, 
 marshes are hidden. The brooks run far underground. 
 The flats are elevated, and the heights depressed. The 
 tide of buildings surges on, swallowing up in its course 
 fields and gardens, parks and woods ; uprooting treesj 
 blasting flowers ; shutting out even the air and the winds 
 of heaven. There is something appalling in the resistless 
 growth of London. Middlesex was nearly eaten up. 
 Surrey and Kent and Essex have been largely contaminated. 
 Still the city spreads, like moths fretting a garment. The 
 old form of the country, as it lay bare to the sky, is 
 wholly lost. It is overwhelmed and obliterated. Even when
 
 • r )C> LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 the houses fall, and London becomes ruinous heaps, the old 
 geography will not be restored. The ancient rivers will 
 not ilow in their old channels. The valleys and the hills 
 will have alike disappeared, and men will some day talk 
 of the plains of London as we talk of the plains of Babylon., 
 
 If we could look on the site of London as it 
 was before our city was made, we should not know 
 it. Who can define the extent and the boundaries of 
 the fields of St. Martin and St. Giles, or tell us where 
 the mount stood in Mount Street, or the conduit in 
 Conduit Street ? We have all a vague idea that there 
 is a stream running under Buckingham Palace. We have 
 been in the habit of taking strangers to Panyer Alley, as 
 to the " highest ground in the City," and we do not yet 
 forget the steep ascent of Holborn Hill. But our infor- 
 mation seldom extends much further. We are un- 
 acquainted with the soil in our own street. We have no 
 notion how many feet it is above or below the level of the 
 Thames. W r e have never remarked whether Park Lane 
 slopes to the north or to the south. We have not the 
 slightest idea over what river Battle Bridge was built t 
 nor why we should have to go clown steps from Tliread- 
 needle Street to Broad Street. All these things depend 
 more or less directly on the physical geography of the 
 region which we have covered over and disguised with 
 pavements and rows of houses. 
 
 The London district, at least the more thickly in- 
 habited portion of it, consists of a series of low hills rising 
 from the sloping bank of the Thames. On the north 
 or left side, they were in the counties of Middlesex and 
 Essex. On the south or right bank, they were in Surrey 
 and Kent, except from the Temple to the Tower on the 
 left, and a small division round St. Saviour's on the right, 
 which were, and are still, in the City. These hills are
 
 ANCIENT RIVERS. 57 
 
 not in linea uniformly parallel with the Thames, which 
 flows from south to north where it passes Westminster, 
 and flows from west to east past London. The hills are 
 divided by brooks or bournes, now nearly all hidden in 
 tunnels and sewers. Here and there the ground is flat. 
 There is a long tract of level ground south of Notting 
 Hill and west of the river Thames, where the elevation is 
 very slight, and where in places there is even a depres- 
 sion. On this tract an enormous population is now 
 gathered. The villages of Kensington and Brompton 
 were formerly separated from the water's edge by an 
 unwholesome morass, but even this has been built upon ; 
 and Pimlico, which contains some of the worst, contains 
 also some of the best, streets in London. 
 
 We are surprised to notice the great differences of level 
 and also of soil which occur. While north of the Park, in 
 places, the ground rises to nearly a hundred feet above the 
 sea, at Millbank it only stands twelve feet above the river. 
 The highest ground in the City is in Cannon Street, where 
 it reaches sixty feet, and not in Newgate Street, where 
 it is only fifty-eight ; for the old rhyme of Panyer Alley 
 is untrue, like so many other things w T e have believed in 
 from our youth up. The slope falls rapidly towards the 
 east. Stepney is only thirty-five feet above the river, 
 and a short distance beyond we are again at the level of 
 Brompton. 
 
 But if we look further into the matter we find 
 that the slope from the Thames and its adjacent 
 morass is not uniform, but is broken into a number of 
 different eminences. If we could divest Oxford Street, 
 for instance, of its houses, we might see that the whole 
 line of thoroughfare from Newgate to Notting Hill goes 
 up and down hill alternately not less than three times. 
 Instead of a long piece of almost level road, bordered on
 
 58 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 either side by houses, we should see a steep hill when Ave 
 had crossed the Fleet, round which the river would run 
 on the north and east, and, arriving at the summit, 
 should iind ourselves on a ridge elevated perhaps as much 
 as eighty feet above the Thames, towards which, on the 
 left, there would be a continuous slope, while on the right 
 a valley of slight depth, but of considerable steepness, 
 would mark the north-westward winding of the Fleet. 
 The valley, of which the head would be at Euston Square, 
 would correspond with a similar depression on the west 
 of a large tract of the densest clay known to geolo- 
 gists. This tract is now the Regent's Park, and from 
 it the principal streams of which Ave speak take their 
 source. The Hole-Bourne on the east, emerging as the 
 Fleet near Blackfriars Bridge ; the Ty-Bourne on the west ; 
 the Kil or Cool-Bourne beyond it ; smaller streams, as the 
 Milford, near Temple Bar, and another where Ivy Bridge 
 stood in the Strand, all either ilow directly from it, or 
 are largely fed by the AA r aters gathered in its tenacious 
 grasp. They still run, though hidden from sight. 
 
 The Hole-Bourne is the largest and most important 
 of these ancient rivers. The name, which occurs in 
 other parts of England, Avhere our forefathers would 
 describe a brook which burrowed its way through steep 
 banks, like the Holing-Bourne, or nollingbourne, in 
 Kent, the Holbeck in Nottinghamshire, and the Hol- 
 brook in Suffolk, has been interpreted in various ways : 
 especially by StoAv, who, as I have mentioned in 
 an earlier chapter, says it is a corruption of Old-Bourne : 
 a view hardly worth refuting, only that I saw it quoted 
 with approval quite lately. The Hole-Bourne, or Hol- 
 born, marked its early course by many such cuttings 
 as that named in " Black Mary's Hole," a reference, 
 probably, to one of the wooden 'Madonnas" Avhich
 
 IJPl 
 
 1 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 r | ; 
 ■I 
 
 D 
 
 Z 
 D 
 
 o 
 
 ce 
 o 
 
 LU 
 
 I 
 h 
 
 u. 
 o 
 
 z 
 o 
 
 I- 
 < 
 
 DC 
 
 D 
 O 
 
 IL 
 
 z 
 o 
 o 
 
 LU 
 
 I 
 h 
 
 o 
 
 z 
 
 o 
 
 I 
 
 CO 
 
 co 
 
 Q 
 
 _l 
 LU 
 
 Li 
 
 _J 
 _J 
 
 I 
 
 o
 
 • f w
 
 ANCIENT RIVERS. 59 
 
 were destroyed at the Reformation and probably 
 commemorated in St. Mary's Benedictine Nunnery ; 
 also by Hockley " in the Hole," a garden or place of 
 public amusement in the deep valley, which made it 
 convenient for the spectators of bear-baiting, dog-fighting, 
 and other pastimes. Dotted round on both sides of 
 the brook were many wells, such as Clerken well, God's 
 well, Show well, Bagnigge's well, Sadler's well, and, far 
 to the westward of the rest, Holy well and St. Clement's 
 well. No wonder the summit of the principal hill on 
 the left bank was denominated Cold-bath Fields. 
 
 If we follow the old roadway of Holborn, we find it 
 reaches its highest point on the ridge once known by a 
 pond, as Ridgemere or Rugmere, near the Regent's 
 Circus. Thence to Bird Street we find a slope which, 
 if we could strip oft* the granite and bricks, would be seen 
 to be part of a long ravine extending from the church 
 of St. Mary, southward to Westminster, the little brook 
 which marks its course being still acknowledged in the 
 name of the parish, St. Mary " le bourne," and in that of 
 Brook Street and of Engine Street, now called Briek 
 Street, Piccadilly, where a waterwheel or " engine " 
 was turned by the stream. This was the original 
 Tyburn. It is not very easy to trace the depression 
 caused by the bourne. The windings of Marylebone 
 Lane perhaps represent the earlier turnings of the 
 stream along whose banks it ran. At Stratford Place, 
 centuries ago, there was a conduit connected with the 
 stream, and standing on its left bank, and this is still the 
 boundary between the territories of the Corporation and 
 those of the Duke of Westminster. Another was found, 
 a few years ago, near North Audley Street. There were 
 several more— all belonging, originally, to the City, which 
 had its water supply from these springs as far back as
 
 60 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 the thirteenth century. The brook turns to the left 
 on crossing Oxford Street, where it was tapped by the 
 engineers of the "Twopenny Tube" and caused much 
 delay; then, running between Davies and South Molton 
 Streets, it crosses Berkeley Square, and, winding round 
 the base of a mount, and feeding another conduit, it. 
 turns almost at right angles past Hay Hill, and thence 
 under Lansdowne House by Brick Street into the Green 
 Park, across which its path is marked, especially at 
 sunset, by a line of mist. Emerging very near, if not 
 actually under, the spot on which Buckingham Palace 
 stands, it turns again to the right, and finally falls into 
 the Thames at Westminster, forming in the last few 
 hundred yards the delta of Thorney, as shown in 
 Hollar's view of Tothill Fields. In another chapter I 
 have tried to describe its lower course. 
 
 This brook was undoubtedly the original Tyburn : 
 and the place of Longbeard's death in 1194 cannot 
 have been far distant from Stratford Place. So lonely 
 was the neighbourhood that, St. John's Church having 
 been repeatedly robbed, Bishop Braybrook removed 
 it from the foot of Marylebone Lane to the High Street 
 early in the fifteenth century, though, with characteristic 
 immobility, the vestry remained, where it still stands, 
 close to the original site. From this point, again, there 
 is a considerable ascent, the highest ridge being just 
 opposite the Marble Arch ; and here the traditional Tyburn, 
 the bourne in particular from which so many travellers 
 never returned, has usually been placed. A distinction 
 should be made by those who pursue the subject. It is 
 usually assumed that a " gibbet " marked a place of 
 execution. It is just the contrary. A permanent gibbet, 
 on which the body of a malefactor hung in chains, might 
 be set up almost anywhere. An execution of a death
 
 ANCIENT RIVERS. bl 
 
 sentence always took place on the King's highway or on 
 an adjacent common or piece of open land. Such a 
 piece appears to have been at the place where the 
 western road crossed the brook ; and another at the 
 cross roads near the Tyburn Turnpike. The sandy 
 and gravelly soil must have been found unsuitable for 
 cultivation. The hill was probably little more than a bare 
 heath, favourable, no doubt, except under peculiar cir- 
 cumstances, to human life ; for, standing as it does almost 
 a hundred feet above the Thames, surrounded on all sides 
 by valleys, more or less depressed, and bounded on the 
 east and west by the Tyburn and the Westbourne, the 
 hill, although without a name of its own, has always been 
 remarkable in later times for its low death-rate, a blessing 
 duly acknowledged by the inhabitants, who built St. Luke's 
 Church in Nutford Place to commemorate the absence of 
 cholera from the district during the visitation of 1849. 
 
 If we descend the hill from the Marble Arch, we 
 come near Lancaster Gate to the AYestbourne at a 
 place known as Baynard's Watering. A tavern, appro- 
 priately named the " Swan," has long marked the site. 
 The courso of the brook from Hampstead is easily 
 traced, but it seldom appears above ground except 
 between this " Swan " and another " Swan'' in Sloane Street. 
 In Kensington Gardens it was known, from its erratic 
 course, as the Serpentine. Queen Caroline dug a 
 straight canal for it, and thence it flowed through a part 
 of Hyde Park. Emerging at Knightsbridge, it ran a very 
 winding course, dividing the manors of Ebury and 
 Chelsea, and is conveyed in an iron aqueduct across 
 Sloane Square Station. It falls into the Thames near 
 Chelsea, being known for the last part of its course as 
 the Grosvenor Canal, through which at low tide the How 
 is very perceptible.
 
 62 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Jf, instead of turning west ;it the Fleet below Holborn 
 Hill, we try to examine tlie geographieal features of the 
 City itself, the difficulties in our way are even greater. 
 The hill of which St. Paul's is the crown never rises much 
 more than half the height of that on which the gallows 
 stood at Tyburn. And some fifteen or twenty feet of even 
 this moderate elevation must be accounted for by the 
 successive destructions of a series of cities which have stood 
 on the same site, and which have contributed to the 
 salubrity of their modern representative by raising it on 
 a deep layer of ashes and adventitious soil of all kinds. 
 Two streams crossed the site of the City. Both have 
 disappeared, more completely than even the Fleet. 
 The Langbourne only survives in the name of the 
 ward through which it ran, and Sherbourne Lane 
 marks its later course before it fell into the Thames 
 at Swan Wharf. It has been suggested that the 
 Lang and Shire, or Slier, bournes formed two sides 
 of the old moat of the inner Roman London or Pre- 
 torium. If so, Wallbrook would be the third. The 
 Wallbrook also had at least two names, whether as the 
 Dour it gave a name to Dowgate, and whether as 
 the Wallbrook it really marked the western boundary. 
 Barges at one time sailed up it at high water as far as 
 Bucklersbury, and a boat-hook of Roman make has been 
 found in Coleman Street. Bridges crossed it at the same 
 period and later, one of them connecting the two streets 
 which are now the two ends of Cannon Street. The ship 
 which formed the vane of St. Mildred's in the Poultry has 
 been referred to the stream which flowed under the church ; 
 St. Mary Bothaw 7 has been explained as St. Mary Boat- 
 haw, St. Mary Woolnoth as St. Mary Woollenhithe, and 
 the course of the brook may be traced across Princes 
 Street, behind the Bank, along Broad Street, until, like
 
 ANCIENT RIVERS. 63 
 
 theLangbourne, it reaches Finsbury. The marshy ground 
 in Moorfields is to the City what the Regent's Park clay is 
 to the West End; and though Threadneedle Street is 
 thirteen and Broad Street six feet above the ancient level 
 of the land, they preserve in a remarkable manner evidences 
 of their respective positions when suburban villas lined 
 the banks of the Wallbrook, and corn grew upon Cornhill, 
 and when the whole site of modern London was traversed 
 by these long-hidden and ancient rivers.
 
 64 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 king's langley. 
 
 The Tomb of an Ancestor of Edward VII. — A Royal Hunting 
 Lodge — Tho Burial of Richard II. — Piers Gavestonc— A Rich 
 Priory— The Church of All Saints. 
 
 There are so many Langleys in England that it is not 
 very easy to distinguish one from another. But King's 
 Langley, though it has been the subject of a series of 
 historical mistakes, has claims on our notice superior 
 to those of any other Langley. In the church of All 
 Saints, almost forgotten and until lately long in want of 
 repair, is the tomb of an ancestor of King Edward VII., the 
 Edmund Duke of York whose great-grandson in the male 
 line sat on the throne as Edward IV. Its ornamentation 
 consists only of a row of shields, but the effect is so good 
 that no one can doubt, if only on artistic grounds, that it 
 deserves preservation, if not, perhaps, a moderate measure 
 of restoration. It was spared at the dissolution of the 
 monasteries, and removed to the parish church, where it 
 formerly blocked up the north side of the chancel. There 
 was no side chapel into which it could be put. Finally, 
 a little chantry was made, a place better suited for it, 
 and the monument was carefully removed into it in 1878, 
 the late Queen placing a stained-glass window over the 
 tomb of her ancestor. 
 
 The dukedom of York was conferred upon Prince
 
 
 > 
 
 LU 
 _J 
 
 z 
 < 
 
 CO 
 
 b 
 
 h 
 
 £. 
 
 < 
 
 r 
 
 
 J: 
 
 LU 
 
 - 
 
 o 
 
 to 
 
 <r 
 
 oc 
 
 _l 
 
 
 <r 
 
 -o 
 
 a. 
 
 Q) 
 
 Q S 
 
 LL. 
 O 
 
 LU 
 IT
 
 h 
 
 -Z t
 
 king's langley. 65 
 
 Edmund in August, 1385. He was already Earl of Cam- 
 bridge and a Knight of the Garter, being the fifth son 
 of King Edward III. and Queen Philippa, and ho was born 
 here in June, 1341. Through his second son, Richard, 
 who married his cousin, Lady Anne Mortimer, eventually 
 heiress of Edward III., he became ancestor of the 
 Yorkist Kings, Edward IV., Edward V., and Richard III., 
 and of Queen Elizabeth, the wife of Henry VII. It 
 is interesting in the light of recent events to reflect 
 that this was the first introduction of the dukedom of 
 York into the Royal Family. The tomb is not only the 
 monument of a king's son, but it is almost the sole tangible 
 relic in the place of the time when a Royal manor-house 
 stood on the neighbouring hill, with the richest friary 
 in England beside it. Both have been so completely 
 swept away that a careful search only reveals the built-up 
 arch of a gateway in a farmhouse, and a building, locally 
 known as " King John's Palace," and long used as a pigsty, 
 which is still supported on a row of pointed arches. 
 Whether these remains belonged to the manor-house or 
 to the priory it is impossible now to say. The friars, at 
 their first coming, were lodged near the parish church, 
 where Edward III. gave them a garden. Then the King 
 allowed them to build themselves a house in the park, 
 and finally in 1316 he gave them the manor-house itself. 
 Yet later kings must have built themselves a hunting 
 lodge close by, and we afterwards find them living there. 
 The building must in fact have been very extensive and 
 the park which surrounded it large, and it is easy to see, 
 by a walk through the fields in the neighbourhood, that 
 they have been broken up and ^enclosed comparatively 
 recently. 
 
 King's Langley lies about twenty miles from London 
 on the road to Berkhampstead. In these days the North- 
 p
 
 6G LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Western Railway passes through the valley, and cuts 
 what was once the Long Lea by the river Gade, or Bul- 
 bourne, into small portions. The hills rise on either 
 side, Abbot's Langley being high up on the eastern slope, 
 and King's Langley about half-way up the western, which 
 was crowned five hundred years ago by the manor-house 
 and the Dominican church. 
 
 St. Albans, to whose abbot the eastern Langley be- 
 longed, is only six miles away, and Berkhampstead is the 
 same distance to the north. The situation was therefore 
 eminently suitable for a Royal resting-place on the journey 
 to London, from either the great castle or the great abbey. 
 Like Berkhampstead itself, it belonged at the time of the 
 Domesday Survey to Earl Morton, and may have been later 
 included in the possessions of Richard, King of the Romans. 
 But Henry III. is the first king whose name is connected 
 with it; and if it once formed part of the lands of the Duchy 
 of Cornwall, it was certainly included afterwards in those 
 of the Duchy of Lancaster. Alienated under the Stuarts, 
 the park enclosed, the manor-house dismantled, the friary 
 suppressed, and its church so completely destroyed that 
 its very site is now conjectural, there still lingers about 
 Langley a memory of its ancient Royal dignity, and anyone 
 who cares to hunt up its history will find it the scene 
 of many remarkable and more obscure events. We 
 may conclude that it was well wooded ; for though, under 
 the Earl, it only answered for a hide and a half of arabli 
 land, there was food under the oaks and beeches for two 
 hundred and forty hogs. We may also suppose that, 
 being so near the much more extensive Royal residence 
 of Berkhampstead, it was only an occasional dwelling 
 for the King, and probably before the reign of Edward II. 
 it was little more than a hunting seat. But it was used 
 sufficiently often to make the name frequent among the
 
 king's langley. 67 
 
 charters dated in the fourteenth century ; and, for a 
 time at least, an English King lay buried in the friars' 
 church. 
 
 Though the body of Richard II. lay at Langley for 
 fourteen years, it was eventually removed "with reaverence 
 and solempnnytie," and conveyed to the tomb which 
 Richard had made in his own lifetime, to " be buryed 
 by Queen Anna his wyfe." And Richard's godson, the 
 grandfather of Edward IV., though, like his father, he 
 was probably born at Langley, yet leaves little or no mark 
 upon the history of the place. The tomb of Edmund 
 of Langley, Duke of York, his father, and the fact that 
 " Piers Gavestone, Earl of Corn wall," was buried there 
 and never exhumed, are the chief points of historical 
 association remaining. 
 
 Both Edmund and Piers were buried in the church 
 of the Priory ; the monument of the King's son, King 
 Edward VII. 's ancestor, remains, and his body was 
 probably transferred with the monument to the parish 
 church. The covering slab was raised in 1878, when it 
 was found to contain the skeletons of a man and two 
 women, probably those of the Duke, of Isabel of Castile, 
 his first wife, and of Anne, the wife of his second 
 son : but this last identification is a mere guess. The 
 thirteen shields of arms, three of which were hidden 
 before by the east wall, showing the birth, title, and 
 marriage of the Duke, are, from an artistic point of view, 
 well worthy of more than a passing glance. In the 
 fourteenth century, when they were carved, heraldry 
 was still a living art. 
 
 As for Gavestone, it is difficult to say that he was 
 ever at Langley in his lifetime. Some of the chroniclers, 
 and Knyghton among the number, assert that the Priory 
 was founded by Edward II., expressly to provide continual
 
 G8 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 prayer, pro anima dicti Petri. But a comparison of 
 dates forbids the possibility of this assertion being true. 
 Another mistake regarding the foundation may be found 
 in Dugdale. He speaks of Langley as having been founded 
 by one " Robert de Helle," a baron. But no such name 
 occurs among the list of peers, and no such person ever 
 owned land at this particular Langley. Edward's foun- 
 dation was certainly the first here. 
 
 A third question,, which is not without interest, 
 may be noticed in this place. According to a record 
 preserved by Rymer, Edward gave a Langley to Henry, 
 Lord Percy. But which Langley ? Probably not this 
 one, for when, after Gavestone's betrayal by Percy at 
 York, and his subsequent execution at Warwick, Edward 
 sent a warrant against Percy to the Governor of York, 
 and seized his goods, we read of no forfeiture of this estate, 
 though immediately afterwards we find it in the King's 
 hands. There would have been a fine irony, no doubt, 
 in seizing Percy's manor and giving it to the friars to 
 pray for the soul of the man whom Percy had done to his 
 death. But the facts are against it, and the church 
 was built and consecrated in the same year that Gavestone 
 suffered, and probably before June 19, the date usually, 
 if doubtfully, assigned for the tragedy of Blacklow Hill ; 
 while the body of the favourite was not brought to it until 
 two years later. The grant of the manor-house in 1316 
 may have been in order to make an addition to either 
 the church or the friary, in which case a fresh house 
 for the King's use was probably built. But, except that 
 we know the church to have stood westward of the house> 
 and that we can still see the gateway, so that we may 
 safely place the site of the church in an orchard near the 
 road, on the very summit of the hill, where bones have been 
 found, we can do little but guess at the exact localities.
 
 > 
 < 
 a 
 
 LU 
 
 co 
 w 
 cr 
 
 Q_ 
 HI 
 
 i 
 h 
 
 h 
 
 < 
 
 I 
 o 
 cr 
 
 D 
 I 
 O 
 
 > 
 LU 
 
 _l 
 
 o 
 
 CO 
 
 b 
 
 z
 
 king's langley. 69 
 
 Speed reckons the revenues of the Priory at £150 
 a year, which would make it the wealthiest house of 
 the Dominicans hi England at the dissolution. Queen 
 Mary endeavoured to restore it by placing a community 
 of nuns in the old building. But under Elizabeth the 
 nuns were dispersed, and the house granted to Edward 
 Grimston, who seems to have taken effectual measures 
 to prevent any future restoration. By what happy 
 chain of events the tomb of the Duke of York was re- 
 moved and preserved is not known. As Queen Elizabeth 
 had views on the subject of the Royal dignity, and as 
 Edmund of Langley was the paternal ancestor of Elizabeth 
 of York, it may have been owing to her direct intervention 
 that the monument was rescued amid the general 
 destruction. 
 
 At the present day King's Langley has the forsaken 
 and forgotten air common to so many Hertfordshire 
 villages. Royalty has departed from a county once 
 notable for its Royal houses. John of Gaunt lived at 
 Hertford, the Black Prince at Berkhampstead, and the 
 Duke of York at Langley, all possibly at the very same 
 time. But now the manor of Hertford is in private 
 hands, and the Duke of Cornwall and York, though the 
 site of the castle of Berkhampstead still belongs to the 
 Duchy of Cornwall, has, in all, only thirteen acres of 
 land in Hertfordshire, with an annual rental of £5. 
 
 King's Langley ceased to be the King's in 1628. The 
 church is in good repair, but has been lately much too 
 severely " restored." It abounds in monuments, and that 
 of Duke Edmund in the chancel used to be faced at the 
 other side by the equally imposing tomb of Sir William 
 Glascocke, a successful lawyer, who, though he seems to 
 have lived in Essex, desired to be buried here. His tomb 
 has been displaced, and is in the north aisle. The
 
 70 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Duke's monument is now behind a screen ; and stands 
 north and south. The window presented by Queen 
 Victoria repeats the coats-of-arms. 
 
 Another altar tomb, long traditionally assigned to 
 Gavestone, supports the effigies of a knight of the Verney 
 family, one of whom seems to have had the custody of 
 the King's house. It was very possibly brought from 
 the friars' church, and, like the Duke's, bears marks of 
 having travelled. There are several brasses on the floor, 
 and some quaint inscriptions occur on the church walls, 
 both inside and out. At the west end hangs a proclama- 
 tion relating to the selection of children for " The Heal- 
 ing," as performed by Charles II., and there is a good 
 peal of bells. On the whole, the church is worth a 
 visit, and a walk over the hill may enable the modern 
 traveller to form an idea of the time when the King's 
 hunting grounds extended with little interruption from 
 Berkhampstead to Westminster, and even of the still 
 remoter time when the Watling Street ran through 
 woods for thirty or forty miles from London.
 
 71 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OLD ST. TAUL'S. 
 
 London in the year One Thousand — Foundation of Old St. Paul's 
 — Its Secular Constitution — The Cloister an Afterthought — 
 The Folkmote Bell Tower — Hollar's Engravings — The 
 Tallest Spire in Christendom — The Monuments — "Inigo 
 Jones, Esquire " — His Portico. 
 
 It was universally believed in England that the world 
 would come to an end with the year 1000. How the exact 
 year 1000 was to be determined did not greatly trouble 
 the simple-minded thinkers of the period. The odd " 4," 
 which Bishop Lloyd added to the received date of the 
 Christian Era, had not been so much as mentioned. The 
 ten thousand years of Professor Petrie had not been added 
 to Lloyd's "4." That the year when B.C. was changed 
 into a.d. might have been miscalculated was an idea 
 that never occurred to anybody. So it came to pass 
 that there was a general awakening to activity, among 
 other things in building, and especially in church building, 
 as soon as the eleventh century was well begun. 
 
 In London, within the old Roman walls, this revival 
 was checked by three things which followed each other 
 very closely. Men had not recovered the Danish in- 
 cursions, and had by no means recognised that they were 
 at an end. Next came the Norman Conquest, and still 
 more the change for the worse in the Conqueror's policy
 
 72 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 which marked the close of his reign. These troubles 
 
 prolonged the tension. The uneasiness still prevailed 
 
 when the eleventh century a.d. had also come to an 
 
 end. A third revival, more clearly expressed, came 
 
 in with the dawn of the twelfth century, but only to be 
 
 a third time and most disastrously checked, at least for 
 
 the citizens, by the Great Fire. But for another and 
 
 still greater fire, that of 1666, it was remembered by 
 
 that name and might be remembered still. The Great 
 
 Fire of 1136 was superseded as a national calamity by 
 
 the later conflagration, but for five hundred years dwelt 
 
 in the popular memory, and led to even greater changes 
 
 in the city. 
 
 To this date, before the middle of the twelfth century, 
 we must ascribe the almost complete re-arrangement of 
 parishes, of which I have something to say elsewhere.* 
 It was from this event that what we have heard of as 
 Old St. Paul's could be dated. The tallest spire in 
 Christendom was not yet built, nor did the east end of 
 the church with its famous rose window look out over 
 Cheap till long after. But the rebuilding of what before 
 the Conquest had probably been a heterogeneous pile 
 of wooden construction, thatched with reeds, and patched 
 here and there with small portions of stone and brick, com- 
 menced after 1136 to be a settled and very ambitious design, 
 which went on for centuries — beginning with Romanesque, 
 and ending, so far as it can be described as final, with 
 Romanesque again under Inigo Jones. 
 
 St. Paul's was a cathedral of the old foundation. In fact, 
 the constitution of this, the earliest example, was followed 
 in all the later churches founded for secular canons 
 throughout England. At Canterbury, the monks of Christ 
 Church were regular canons, and had no separate estates, 
 
 *See p. 123.
 
 OLD ST. PAUL'S. 73 
 
 but were bound together by regulations and inhabited 
 the domestic buildings adjoining the cathedral. At 
 St. Paul's the canons were not bound by monastic vows ; 
 many of them were married men before the reign of 
 Henry III., and there were at first few domestic buildings. 
 The Palace of the Bishop, the deanery, a brew-house, a 
 bake-house— these, with their respective offices, comprise 
 nearly all the separate buildings of which we hear before 
 the thirteenth century. 
 
 In 1332 the Dean and Chapter resolved as an after- 
 thought to build a cloister and a Chapter house, in order, 
 they said, that their cathedral church might resemble 
 others. They took for this purpose the garden of the 
 Dean and Chapter on the south side of the church. The 
 church itself had meanwhile attained great dimensions. 
 The old Norman nave had been supplemented by a choir 
 of Pointed architecture. The east end was very lofty, and 
 formed a conspicuous object from the market place. The 
 east window was circular above, but the lower part was 
 what is now called " cottage headed," and separated by a 
 string course from the rose window above. Below was 
 a crypt of unusual size, for the use of the parish of St. 
 Faith, the older church of which had been removed to 
 make way for the extension of the choir. East of the 
 church were a belfry tower, a gateway into West Cheap, 
 and a wall, all on ground which had formerly belonged 
 to the citizens. Here at the sound of the bell they used 
 to assemble in Folkmote, while west and south-west was 
 another space where Lord Fitzwalter exercised them 
 with their arms and their banners. The name of Knight- 
 rider Street, which was probably derived from the sign 
 of a local tavern, marks the spot for us. Both places 
 were, with the King's leave, encroached upon by the 
 cathedral. The Folkmote had to assemble in Smithfield
 
 74 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 outside the wall, and probably the military drill and 
 training went on in the same place before the establishment 
 of the Artillery Garden, still further out. 
 
 Hollar made a large number of engravings of old St. 
 Paul's for Dugdale's " History," and Payne Fisher, in the 
 time of Cromwell, catalogued the tombs and monuments. 
 There is no other vanished cathedral so familiar to us. The 
 Norman nave and transepts, the Pointed transept aisles, 
 the great buttresses of the tower and the choir, the little 
 cloister with the tall chapter house in its midst, may all be 
 seen in these prints. The western towers were small, but 
 massive, and one of them was the bishop's lock-up for 
 ecclesiastical offenders, and was known, like one at Lambeth 
 Palace, as the Lollards' Tower. But the great glory of 
 the building, and indeed of London and the kingdom 
 at large, was the central tower with its spire,* the tallest 
 ever built before or since. It rose five hundred and 
 twenty feet from the pavement, being crowned with 
 a ball and cross. The ball was made a receptacle for 
 relics, such as a portion of the true cross ; and over them 
 was a weathercock in the shape of an eagle. 
 
 In 1498, " the crosse with the bolle and egell " was 
 hallowed with great and solemn observances. The length 
 of the cross from the ball to the eagle was 15 feet 6 inches, 
 but whether this was in addition to the height of the spire 
 we do not know. The spire unfortunately was of timber, 
 covered with " slats," or small pieces of wood, and became 
 in time highly combustible. It was struck by lightning, 
 as is supposed, in 15G1, and was burnt, together with 
 
 * It may be well to warn the reader that Longman's 
 account of the spire in his " Three Cathedrals " is incorrect in 
 several important particulars, as the late Bishop Stubbs and 
 Dr. Sparrow Simpson both pointed out from ancient manuscript 
 views.
 
 MONUMENT OF SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON IN OLD ST PAULS.
 
 OLD ST. PAUL'S. 75 
 
 the timber roofs of the transepts and part of the 
 nave. 
 
 The principal monuments in Old St. Paul's are described 
 by Fisher and others. I need only name a few. A 
 tablet to the memory of Sir Philip Sidney was in the 
 north aisle of the choir, and near it one to his father-in- 
 law, Sir Francis Walsingham. In the south aisle was a 
 great monument to Sir Christopher Hatton, which oc- 
 casioned a not very brilliant epigram, reported and probably 
 composed by Stow, as to Philip and Francis having no 
 tomb, while the " great Christopher takes all the room." 
 The view given by Dugdale was engraved by Hollar for 
 the "History of St. Paul's." It fills a full page, but 
 appears from a manuscript volume of drawings of monu- 
 ments, executed for Dugdale in 1041 by William Sedgwick, 
 and now in the possession of the Earl of Winchilsea, to 
 have been " abridged," many features being omitted to 
 bring it within the limits of a page. 
 
 A few of the monuments, which were very numerous, 
 survived the destruction of the building and are now 
 carefully preserved in the cathedral. Among them is that 
 of John Donne, Dean in the reign of King James 1. and 
 Charles I., who died before the liebellion. The sculptor 
 represented him in a shroud apparently rising from a 
 small funeral urn at his feet, in a way which irresistibly 
 reminds the spectator of the genie rising from the jar 
 in the Arabian story of the Fisherman. Some members 
 of the Knatchbull family are similarly represented in 
 Maidstone church, probably by the same sculptor. Donne, 
 whose poetry is well known, may be supposed to have 
 composed his own epitaph, though it is in prose, which 
 tells us in highly figurative language of his incumbency 
 of the decanal office, " by the counsail and perswasion of 
 King James." It adds^ that though now setting in the
 
 76 LONDON AFTERNOONS. | 
 
 west," yet dothjie stedfastly behold the Sun of .Righteous- 
 ness gloriously arising out of the East." 
 
 The most famous of these old monuments was that 
 of Sir Jolin Beauchamp, in the nave. This " hath formerly 
 been mistaken, and by the credulity of the vulgar believed 
 to be the tomb of Duke Humphrey that good Duke of 
 Gloucester," who was buried at St. Albans. A hungry 
 wanderer, pacing the aisles, was said to be dining with 
 Duke Humphrey. 
 
 Before the second Great Fire of London, the old cathe- 
 dral had become very ruinous. The fall of the spire had 
 brought down much of the nave. Though massive, the 
 church was badly constructed, wanting in unity and, so 
 to speak, falling to pieces by its own weight. Before 1620 
 it had become necessary to do something, and King James 
 issued a Royal Commission. Not only was the building 
 out of repair, but destruction was accompanied by desecra- 
 tion. To such mean uses was it put that, as we read, St. 
 Paul's was turned into a gossip shop, a rendezvous for 
 the transaction of business, a place of meeting for secular 
 amusements of every description, and, as Evelyn, lament- 
 ing " the sad and deplorable condition it was in," says, 
 " it was made a stable of horses and a den of thieves." 
 
 Foremost among the names of the commissioners is 
 that of Inigo Jones. This remarkable man, " Inigo Jones, 
 Esquire, Surveyor of His Majesty's Works," was himself 
 a Londoner, having been born in the parish of St. 
 Bartholomew the Less, where his father, of the same 
 name, was a clothworker. By the kindness of William 
 Herbert, third Earl of Pembroke of that family, and 
 Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel, the young Inigo was 
 enabled to travel in Italy. There, at Vicenza and Venice, 
 he was struck with the architecture of Palladio and the 
 best of his contemporaries. At^Rome he examined
 
 to 5 
 
 * I ° 
 
 D 
 
 2 - 
 
 I- £ 
 CO 
 
 O S

 
 OLD ST. PAUL'S. 77 
 
 mathematically the plans of old Roman buildings which 
 have now totally disappeared. We need not here follow 
 his career, but study, if we can, his influence on the fabric 
 of St. Paul's. 
 
 When in 1620 he surveyed it, he found that in every 
 possible respect it was little better than a ruin. Standing 
 at Ludgate, he saw a great round-arched pile of what in 
 his day was styled Roman architecture, that is Norman, 
 encrusted nearly all over up to a certain height with 
 mean, tumbling houses, and rising above them in massive 
 Romanesque arches. The north transept was wholly, 
 the south transept chiefly, in the same style. Adjoin- 
 ing the nave on the south side was the little church of St. 
 Gregory, also Norman. The entrance to the cathedral 
 was by a large, round, undecorated arch in the centre ; 
 two similar flanking arches admitted to the side aisles. 
 Some of the Norman lower windows on the south side 
 had been fitted with Perpendicular tracery, such as we still 
 see at Winchester, Tewkesbury, and many other places. 
 It will be remembered that the tall Gothic spire no 
 longer existed. 
 
 Overlooking these windows, Jones resolved that the 
 best way to repair and complete a Romanesque building 
 was to apply to the windows and the doors the Renascence 
 features he had learnt in Italy. Thus treated, the nave 
 and the transepts, without structural alterations, became 
 homogeneous, and attained a unity to which, with their 
 many incongruous features, they had never pretended before. 
 To do this adequately he was obliged to interfere with 
 some old work, as in later days a Gothic " restorer " would 
 have done when he had the chance, but never to the 
 extent to which Wyatt gutted Salisbury or Cottingham 
 Hereford. He scrupulously respected the monuments 
 and chantries, and destroyed no good work in any style.
 
 78 LONDOX AFTERNOONS. 
 
 But it can hardly be denied that in ignoring the Pointed 
 style and carrying out his work hi the nearest tiling he 
 knew to old Roman he was doing very much what Wren 
 did in the White Tower, and Salvin at Windsor Castle 
 or the Wakefield Tower. 
 
 The most important part of Inigo Jones's work was 
 the creation of a western front. This he undertook 
 without any of the misgivings excited in later times. 
 Remembering that he had to deal with a great but wholly 
 unlovely building, in a very anomalous style, with none 
 of the charming minor features to be seen in the Norman 
 work at Canterbury or Durham, he came to his task 
 unfettered by any prejudices. He understood the 
 mediaeval English style very well — much better, in fact, 
 than many of the modern so-called Gothic architects. 
 But, at a glance, it will be seen that a First, Second, or 
 Third Pointed front would have been entirely incongruous 
 to the nave and transepts which it was intended to com- 
 plete and, in truth, to mask ; nothing was possible but 
 either a great two-storied western portico, or, if it could 
 be made sufficiently large and imposing, a frontispiece 
 composed of marble columns like that which he had seen 
 at Rome in front of the Pantheon, or at Vicenza, where 
 a Gothic building had been completely faced with pillars. 
 Something of the kind he determined to attempt at St. 
 Paul's, and the result was one of the most beautiful and 
 altogether satisfactory designs ever carried out under 
 such restrictive conditions. The front consisted of ten 
 marble columns, those at the corners being square. The 
 portico was three columns, or two intercolumniations, 
 deep, and presented a magnificent front to Ludgate Hill. 
 The columns were of the Corinthian order, and were 
 forty feet high. The work was completed in 1631 (or 
 1633, according to other authorities), but certainly it
 
 J 
 < 
 
 I— to 
 
 CO g 
 
 Q i 
 
 O i 
 
 o ~ 
 
 LU 
 > 
 
 h 
 Z 
 < 
 
 h 
 
 Q
 
 OLD ST. PAUL'S. 79 
 
 was finished just when the architect, as most critics helieve, 
 was engaged on St. Katherine Cree, in Leadenhall Street, 
 one of the most interesting of London churches. St. Paul's 
 portico was 140 feet in width and about 40 feet in depth, 
 and had a flat architrave, instead of a pediment, which 
 would have contrasted with the sharp apex of the church 
 roof above. 
 
 When, after the Great Fire of 1G66, Wren was employed 
 to repair St. Paul's, it never seems to have struck him 
 that there was any incongruity between nave and portico. 
 All the world admired the work, and its loss is lamented 
 in many contemporary notices. That there was any- 
 thing amiss does not seem to have occurred to anybody 
 before the time of Horace Walpole. Wren, in a report 
 made to the Commissioners a few months before the Fire, 
 says of it, " The Portico built by Inigo Jones, being an 
 entire and excellent piece, gave great reputation to the 
 work in the first repairs." Evelyn, who at least thought 
 himself a man of consummate taste, laments over it in 
 166G: 
 
 " I was infinitely concerned to find that goodly church, St. 
 Paul's — now a sad ruin — and that beautiful portico (for structure 
 comparable to any in Europe, as not long before repaired by the 
 late king) now rent in pieces, flakes of large stones split asunder, 
 and nothing remaining entire but the inscription in the archi- 
 trave, showing by whom it was built, which had not one letter 
 defaced. It was astonishing to see what immense stones the 
 heat had in a manner calcined, so that all the ornaments, column <. 
 friezes, capitals, and projectures of massy Portland stone fl< •,■■. 
 off, even to the very roof." 
 
 Walpole, who may be described as the discoverer of I 1 > 
 modern Gothic style, makes two unfounded assert.* , .; 
 about Jones's work at St. Paul's, and has been blir. 
 followed by many subsequent writers. He says :
 
 80 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 " Inigo made two capital faults. He first renewed the sides 
 with very bad Gothic, and then added a Roman portico, mag- 
 nificent and beautiful indeed, but which had no affinity with 
 the ancient parts that remained, and made the Gothic appear 
 ten times heavier." 
 
 But, as we have seen, Inigo did neither of these things. 
 He found the sides Romanesque or Norman, and he 
 " restored " them, to use a modern expression ; that is, 
 he made them look as he thought, perhaps wrongly, their 
 original designer intended them to look— in short, he 
 made the mistake which, during the whole of the nine- 
 teenth century, was made in every other cathedral in 
 England, from the days of Wyatt and Cottingham to 
 those of Scott and Pearson.
 
 811 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 BROOK ~SHOTT AND STONEBBJDGB CLOSE. 
 
 .>.», > 
 
 Changed Names, and Names that have Survived Things and Places 
 — The Grosveuor Estate — Buckingham House — A Roman 
 Road — " Brook Shott " — Stonebridge Close — The Scene of 
 Harriet Westbrook's Suicide — The Ranger's Lodge. 
 
 The irresistible tide of bricks and mortar which overwhelms 
 tho country round London obliterates more than the 
 ancient landmarks. There is a kind of feeling in our 
 minds that the alterations of level and of surface, and 
 the additions of rows of houses, are the only things by 
 which our modern suburbs are changed from what they 
 were a few years ago. But a comparison instituted 
 between maps of the present day and maps of even a 
 hundred years ago shows that we have lost much more 
 than the mere geographical features. The old nomen- 
 clature has perished. Who that paces the smooth pave- 
 ment of Oxford Street remembers that its western end 
 was once known as the Tyburn Road ? The Kensington 
 Gravel Tits have long borne the wholly incorrect and 
 confusing name of Notting Hill Gate. Kensington Gore 
 is now the description of a large number of houses which 
 are not, and never were, in any part of Kensington. Queen 
 Square, Bloomsbury, is not, and never was, in Bloomsbury, 
 but in Hoi born. West Kensington, to which, for some 
 reason, one of the old City schools has migrated, is not 
 in Kensington, but in IMhain, or rather in that hamlet 
 
 G
 
 82 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 of Fulham now denominated Hammersmith. The 
 Dominicans had a house where the office of the Times 
 is now, and Blackfriars Station is close by, but Blackfriars 
 Hoad is on the other side of the Thames. It would 
 be easy to find a hundred examples of this kind of topo- 
 graphical deception in the London suburbs. Hornsey 
 Wood has, in part at least, become Finsbury Park, though 
 the nearest part of Finsbury is two miles away. The 
 southern parts of Lambeth have taken many names. 
 Dulwich has spread into neighbouring districts. Part 
 of Lambeth has become Penge. Stepney was long divided 
 into the Parliamentary boroughs of Hackney and Tower 
 Hamlets. 
 
 These changes are on a large scale ; but if we con- 
 descend to note smaller matters, we find the old enclosures 
 and boundaries similarly forgotten, and it would puzzle 
 many a competent modern topographer to say where 
 was Great Gibbet Field in St. Marylebone, or the Six 
 Closes in the Begent's Park. Sometimes, on the other 
 hand, the names still in use commemorate places and 
 things long destroyed. Great and Little Turnstile still 
 lead into Lincoln's Inn Fields. The windmills near 
 Savile Eow and the Hay market — nay, the Haymarket 
 itself— are recalled by local names. An inconsiderable 
 inn and tea-garden, called Piccadilly, or Peccadillo, Hall, 
 which gave its name to the short portion of the grand 
 modern highway between the Haymarket on the east 
 and Swallow Street on the west, has become the exclusive 
 appellation of what was once known by three, if not four, 
 different names, and now stands equally for Portugal 
 Street and the Worcester Boad. Though the Neyte 
 Bridge remains in a mutilated form, Stonebridge and 
 Cowford Pool have disappeared, and of Penniless Bank 
 only a portion survives, as Hay Hill.
 
 BROOK SHOTT AND STONEBHIDGE CLOSE. 83 
 
 According to most of the London books, Berkeley 
 Fields were only the site of Berkeley Square; but in 
 reality this name stood for all the land between Tyburn 
 Lane on the west and Swallow Street on the east — that 
 is, between what we call Park Lane and Regent Street. 
 Lord Berkeley of Stratton did not keep a very tight hold 
 on this valuable estate, and it was gradually broken up 
 and sold in small pieces. Much of it, by the falling in 
 of leases and other causes, is now Crown property ; but 
 before the suppression of the religious houses it must 
 have formed part of the vast estate of St. Peter's, West- 
 minster — being, in fact, the north-eastern portion of the 
 manor of Ebury. It was early divided into farms. One 
 of these farms, becoming the property of " rich Audley," 
 is now covered by Grosvenor Square and the adjacent 
 streets. On another, Sir Benjamin Haddocks and his 
 tenants built the thickly inhabited quarter east of Bond 
 Street, ten acres of the southern portion of Tyburn Mill 
 Farm becoming the Burlington Estate, and attaching 
 itself to St. James's parish, while the northern part went 
 to St. George's. The lessee was bound under a heavy 
 penalty in 16 87 not to plough up any of these ten acres. 
 A curious example of the influence of old boundaries on 
 modern streets may be observed in the pavement of the 
 side path of Regent Street, between New Burlington 
 Street and Princes Street. The parochial marks occur 
 on the paving- stones four or five times at least in a 
 few yards. 
 
 A third farm, in the reign of James I., occupied the 
 area now covered by the Green Park and the gardens of 
 Buckingham Palace.* Goring House, with a walled 
 enclosure, afterwards the Mulberry Garden, stood where 
 the palace is now. South of it for a short time 
 
 * See p. 240
 
 84 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 was "Arndall," properly Arlington House. West of 
 it were open fields, some of them marsh land, and 
 when the Duke of Buckingham rebuilt the house 
 in the beginning of the eighteenth century he de- 
 scribes, in a letter to another duke, the view of " a 
 meadow full of cattle beneath, no disagreeable object 
 in the midst of a great city." On this meadow, which 
 in 1G75 was rented by Thoby Beele and Joseph Keeling, 
 according to a map in the Crace collection, Grosvenor 
 Place and Belgrave Square were afterwards built. Goring 
 House had been placed right across an ancient pathway 
 which led from Tyburn to Westminster by Tothill Fields ; 
 and it is more than probable that this path, the line of 
 wliich is preserved by Park Lane and Constitution Hill, 
 was a lioman road — perhaps a British road, the same 
 which the Saxons named the Watling Street. The Thames 
 was crossed somewhere near Westminster Abbey, in the 
 nave of which a lioman pavement was recently found ; 
 but whether there was a ford or a ferry does not appear. 
 Could we follow this old roadway from Westminster 
 towards Hyde Park Corner, as it was when Henry VIII. 
 dispossessed the Abbot, it would be hard to recognise 
 any of the modern geographical features. Instead of 
 the wide triangle where the Wellington Statue long stood 
 on its triumphal arch, we might have seen a clump of 
 trees at the top of a steep slope. This was " Brook Shott," 
 a iield which stretched from the Watling Street eastward 
 down to the Brook, or Tyburn. At the Corner another 
 road crossed the Watling Street. This, one of the great 
 western thoroughfares, must have been in existence as 
 early as the tenth century, when there is mention of the 
 Cowford. The Cowi'ord was then the only way of crossing 
 the Tyburn for a traveller entering London from the 
 westward. Long before the time of the suppression,
 
 BROOK SHOTT AND STONERRIDGE CLOSE. 85 
 
 however, the bridge on the Oxford Road, at St. John's 
 Church, had been built, and the Stonebridge had taken 
 the place of the Cowford, though Cowford Pool was 
 not Idled up till 1842. A passenger, therefore, except 
 when there was a flood, had no more difficulty here than 
 in crossing the Westbourne by the Neyte-bridge, Knight- 
 bridge, or Knightsbridge, a few hundred yards further 
 west. As late as 1692, however, a temporary Speaker 
 had to be chosen for a conference between the Lords and 
 Commons, because, owing to the state of this road in the 
 beginning of March, Sir Eobert Atkyns could not get into 
 town from Kensington, where he lived, and after heavy 
 rain the lower part of the valley was under water. Rosa- 
 mond's Pond, a sort of double to the more famous 
 Rosamond's Pond in St. James's Park, was fed by these 
 overflows, and was only filled up in 1856, when the last 
 relic of the Tyburn disappeared. This was the scene 
 of Harriet Westbrook's suicide in 1816, and lay near a 
 " gully hole," by which the water from the engine escaped 
 into Stonebridge Close. Engine Street, as I have said 
 before, has become Brick Street. 
 
 In a map of 1767 we have still many of the old names. 
 All that part of Piccadilly which lay between Park Lane 
 and Brick Street, stretching up the western slope from the 
 brook, was "Shoulder of Mutton Field," Down Street 
 marking the centre of the side facing Portugal Street, 
 as that part of Piccadilly was called after the marriage 
 of Charles II. A statuary's yard, in which, doubtless, 
 a waterwheel worked the engine, was on either side of 
 the brook at Brick Street ; and we are reminded that then 
 and long after Piccadilly presented the same appearance 
 which Euston Road presents now. Leaden figures to 
 support dials, as well as marble statues, were made here, 
 and one of them which long survived in a picturesque
 
 86 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 corner in Clement's Inn is now in the Temple Gardens. 
 The brook, winding southward from the bridge and 
 gully-hole, divided Brook Shott from Stonebridge Close, 
 which Charles IT. added to St. James's, giving it the name 
 of the Upper Park. Strange to say, none of the numerous 
 historians of London has given us the origin of the two 
 principal local names. * Constitution Hill " and the 
 " Green Park " are equally unaccounted for, as is the 
 fact that the entrance to Hyde Park opposite " Brook 
 Shott " has never received any name at all. Over the side 
 gates we only read " Hyde Park Corner." 
 
 When the Ranger's Lodge was built opposite Down 
 Street, Brook Shott became an ornamental plantation, 
 and was known as the Wilderness. The lodge itself, 
 which was popularly supposed to have been built from a 
 design by King George the Third, but which was carried 
 out by Adam, in 1768, was pulled down in 1842, and 
 soon afterwards the brick wall along Piccadilly was 
 removed and railings were substituted. The figures of deer 
 on the gate-posts were removed to the new Albert. Gate, 
 just where, underground, the Serpentine, resuming its 
 original name of Westbourne, crosses the road at Knights- 
 bridge.* Visitors to the National Gallery, by the way, 
 who have seen and admired Reynolds' picture entitled 
 " Angels' Heads," may remember that the child here 
 portrayed so charmingly was Frances Isabella, daughter of 
 Lord William Gordon, the Park Ranger in 1787. She 
 must have lived here in the Lodge, and died unmarried 
 in 1831. 
 
 Meanwhile the fields on the northern side of the road had 
 disappeared a scompletely as the brook by whose side they 
 lay. The May Fair used to be held in Great Brookfield, 
 and a permanent row of stalls became eventually Shepherd's 
 
 * See p. 61.
 
 cr 
 < 
 
 Q- 
 
 z 
 
 UJ 
 Ui 
 
 en 
 o 
 
 UJ 
 
 o 
 
 Q 
 O 
 
 CM 
 CO 
 
 UJ 
 
 uj cr 
 
 I 
 
 h 
 
 LL 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 or 
 
 LL 
 
 I 
 h 
 
 D 
 O 
 w

 
 BROOK SHOTT AND STONEBRTDGE CLOSE. 87 
 
 Market. Further up the stream the slope on the eastern 
 side was almost precipitous. Hay Hill rose opposite a 
 little islet, ait, or ay, and forms now the roadway across 
 " Pinneless Bank," probably called after some tenant of 
 Hay Hill farm. Tf Hill Street and Farm Street mark the 
 site of the farmhouse, it must have been on the opposite 
 or right bank of the Tyburn. From Hay Hill to 
 Piccadilly the little river ran through a very circuitous 
 course, first under the north wing of Lansdowne House, 
 and not, as is often asserted, under the Fassage ; then 
 behind Bolton Row to Charges Street, across Curzon 
 Street, through Shepherd's Market, and under Brick 
 Street (Engine Street) to the Park. North-east of the 
 Stonebridge was a " field " called after it, like the " close " 
 on the opposite side. Stonebridge Field was the paddock 
 of the " Half Moon Inn," and is now covered in part by 
 Half Moon Street. The inn stood at the corner as lately 
 as 1752, as Mr. Wheatley tells us in his " Round About 
 Piccadilly and Pall Mall," a pleasant volume, in which the 
 later history of the district may be found. Here I have 
 only attempted to reconstruct some forgotten features of 
 its early history, and to try to realise its appearance 
 when the open hills and pastures stretched away north- 
 ward to St. Marylebone, and south-westward to Chelsea ; 
 when Constitution Hill was a wooded eminence between 
 two valleys ; when the Wat ling Street ran along its crest ; 
 when the Knight Bridge and the Stone Bridge were 
 high archways over flooded streams ; and when the 
 traveller had still a full mile to go before he reached the 
 wall of the abbot's garden, and turned through the path 
 " along the Seven Acre Field," now contracted into Long 
 Acre, and so reached the comparatively inhabited region 
 of Drury Lane. 
 
 ^Lw
 
 88 
 
 X 
 
 CHAPTER Vm. 
 
 THE CITY COMPANIES. 
 
 The City Guilds not to be confused with the City Companies — 
 When the Guilds were Abolished — Companies as Trustees — 
 The Husting Court — The Rise of the Companies — Religious 
 Guilds — The Fishmongers and the Goldsmiths — The Stationers 
 — The Barber-Surgeons — The Honourable Artillery Company 
 — Funds and Expenditure of the Companies — The Mercers' and 
 Drapers' Companies and what they are doing with their Money 
 — The Dinners — The Cups and other Ornaments of the Tables. 
 
 Popular errors are very difficult to deal with effectually. 
 One of the most persistent is that which confounds the 
 City Guilds with the City Companies. Here, two widely 
 different things are inextricably confused, and that, too, 
 not in mere catchpenny popular books, but in books 
 pretending to more or less authority. In the common 
 run of London Histories, Guild means Company and 
 Company means Guild. As we do not propose here to 
 deal except incidentally with Guilds, it may be enough 
 to mention one or two facts and then pass on. 
 
 To begin with, there are now no Guilds in London. 
 By an Act passed in 1557, all religious Guilds were 
 abolished, and all Guild able property was confiscated. 
 But as there were no Guilds not religious, and as the 
 property of Guilds was held in Trust to provide burials, 
 masses, and sometimes chantries for deceased members,
 
 THE CITY COMPANIES. 89 
 
 the Guilds and their lands, and their money, and their 
 priestly vestments, and their illuminated manuscripts, all 
 ceased to exist absolutely ; and not only so, but it became 
 penal to revive them. A City Company which calls 
 itself a Guild renders itself liable to forfeiture— a penalty 
 which would, of course, be rather difficult to enforce. 
 We may recommend some busybody with more money 
 than brains to prosecute the Merchant Taylors for call- 
 ing themselves the Guild of St. John ; or some artistic 
 or architectural enthusiast to prosecute the designers, 
 projectors, and constructors of that worst of South 
 Kensington eyesores, the City and Guilds of London 
 Institute ! 
 
 As to Guilds themselves, there is much to be read about 
 them, but that much tells very little. When a writer 
 speaks of Guilds with any degree of certainty, it is gener 
 ally found that he bases his views on rules made in the 
 fourteenth or fifteenth century, forgetting that rules made 
 in the fourteenth centuiy, and still more in the fifteenth, 
 tell us nothing about the Guilds of the ninth. That we 
 have knowledge of Guilds being in existence so early we 
 owe to a study of local names. Guildford, in Surrey, 
 is mentioned in King Alfred's will, which took effect by 
 his death. The name suggests the existence of a sort of 
 Ninth Century Humane Society, not so much to rescue 
 travellers crossing the Wey on foot, as to provide masses 
 for the souls of such as were drowned, for that was the 
 form humanity chiefly took in the ninth century. The 
 name reminds us also of Bedford, " the precarious crossing." 
 The word guild, or part of it, occurs also in other local 
 names, some of them very ancient, such as the two 
 Guildens, one in Cambridgeshire and one in Cheshire, and 
 Guilford or East Guilford in Sussex, whence the North 
 family takes its title of Earl. But of all the examples
 
 90 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 which may be mentioned, that of the Guildhall in London 
 is the most interesting and, it must be confessed, the most 
 puzzling. It has been adduced by some authorities as 
 proving the antiquity of City Companies. What it does 
 prove is the very contrary. We know there was a Guild 
 in the City because there was, and is, a Guildhall. There 
 our absolute knowledge ceases. Other Guilds met and 
 commemorated their dead friends in masses, following 
 the service by a butt-filling, as it was called, and a feast 
 in which every man pledged his neighbour. These 
 societies very often consisted of twelve persons and one 
 woman ; at least, we know this about them at a later period. 
 The men represented the twelve Apostles and the woman 
 the Virgin Mary. 
 
 But although we cannot here go into the history 
 of the Guilds, and have sufficiently indicated the fact 
 of their extinction, we must ask how it comes to pass 
 that the City Companies are so closely connected in 
 our minds with City Guilds ? This close connection 
 before 1557 may be accounted for in perhaps half a dozen 
 ways. We find that in 1557 the City Companies adminis- 
 tered the estates of a large number of Guilds, and of 
 foundations for " Guildable "—that is, religious— purposes. 
 Why the Guilds confided their property in this respect 
 to Companies, and why individuals bequeathed money 
 not to the clergy or to religious houses, indicates a state 
 of public opinion such as existed in London before the 
 Reformation, and exists in other places at the present 
 day. The old Londoners had a profound distrust of 
 their priests, and this distrust amounted to dislike of the 
 friars, black, white, grey, or crutched. To the clergy, 
 secular or regular, they had to go for masses, but they 
 went to the Guild, and through it to the Company, to see 
 the trust duly executed. A familiar modern example
 
 THE CITY COMPANIES. 91 
 
 of this feeling is found at the present day in Ireland. Tf 
 the Londoner left his money to his family for the purpose 
 of securing the repose of his soul, he could not say hut 
 what his family might die out, as indeed happened with 
 awful frequency during the prevalence of the Black Death. 
 If he left it to the clergy he had no way of making certain 
 that they would observe the conditions of his bequest. 
 But if he left it to the Guild he belonged to, he had nothing 
 to think of except the continued solvency of that Guild, 
 and when the affairs of the Guild were administered by a 
 Chartered Company, no questions of any kind arose. 
 The dying man knew that he should be commemorated 
 at annual masses, " so long as the world should last," as 
 Henry VII. wrote to the monks of Westminster. The 
 City Companies, at the time they were deprived of 
 Guild property, had carried on some of these trusts for 
 centuries. It is well to keep these few considerations 
 in our minds. In the Middle Ages, as we call them, 
 people had views on religious subjects which were of the 
 most vague and shadowy character ; religion with them 
 was little but superstition ; but, on the other hand, they 
 were much more inclined to deal liberally and boldly 
 with the difficulties which besot the provision of religious 
 endowments. 
 
 Within a few years after the middle of the fourteenth 
 century a large number of Companies had been formed 
 and chartered. Two or three circumstances contributed 
 to give them immediately a preponderating voice in the 
 governing of the City. Up to this date the Aldermen, 
 who formed a compact body originally of owners of 
 lands within the walls, were assisted by and recruited 
 from the Common Council. In these two bodies, with 
 the Mayor at their head, power was mainly vested, 
 though there was an appeal to a greater Council, con
 
 92 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 sisting of all citizens. This greater Council, after the first 
 election of a Common Council in 1200, very seldom 
 asserted itself. 
 
 The Husting Court is very carefully described by 
 Dr. Sharpe in his " Calendar of Wills." It used always 
 to sit on Monday in each week, as, indeed, it is supposed 
 to do still, though it has not been called together for many 
 years. Its principal business in the thirteenth century 
 was to grant probate of wills, to enrol the names of citizens 
 newly admitted to the franchise, and to hear pleas of 
 land. The first and the last of these duties were gradually 
 transferred elsewhere. The admission of freemen also 
 gradually ceased, and this brings the history of the Com- 
 panies into immediate prominence. To become a citizen 
 a man must be free — he must belong, that is, to no lord ; 
 or, if he had escaped from servitude, and had resided and 
 worked for " a year and a day " in the City unclaimed, 
 he could be admitted as if he had been born free. In 
 addition to the small number thus made free of the City 
 by the Husting, a large number of the citizens were so 
 by descent, their fathers or grandfathers having held 
 the freedom before them. Finallv, a third class con- 
 sisted of men who had been apprenticed to trades, and 
 who, when the Companies were formed, were easily 
 converted into citizens under the charters without any 
 recourse to the Husting. By a patent of Edward II., 
 no one who was described as a foreigner — that is, not a 
 Londoner — could be admitted except by the Husting ; 
 but, of course, inheritors and apprentices were not reckoned 
 foreigners, and membership of a Company eventually 
 became a qualification, and the best. Since the reign 
 of Edward IV. the members of the Common Hall have 
 had the right not of electing the Mayor, as some say, 
 but of presenting two persons to the Aldermen for election.
 
 THE CITY COMPANIES. 93 
 
 This Common Hall consists exclusively of the Livery, 
 or those free of a Company. 
 
 There are very bad mistakes, as Dr. Sharpe shows, 
 in the authorities chiefly relied upon by London historians 
 as to this matter. Here it is enough to point out the 
 state of affairs at the time of the first rise of the Companies. 
 It had by degrees been made compulsory that everyone 
 working at a trade in the City should belong to the Guild 
 of his mystery, and there were probably very few citizens 
 not so enrolled. The Fishmongers chiefly belonged 
 to Guilds dedicated to St. Peter or St. Michael. The 
 Skinners had also two Guilds, consecrated to Corpus 
 Christi and to the Virgin Mary. The Tailors had one 
 Guild— that of St. John the Baptist. The Grocers devoted 
 themselves to St. Anthony. The Haberdashers were 
 a fraternity of St. Katharine. The list might be in- 
 definitely prolonged, but one thing is to be observed : 
 no Guild could make a man free of the City. This point 
 has hardly been insisted on sufficiently. 
 
 In addition to these Guilds among the workers in 
 particular trades, there were other religious Guilds in- 
 numerable, two or three being sometimes connected 
 with the same church. There were three at least in 
 St. Michael's, Cornhill, and in St. Sepulchre's, and two in 
 St. Dunstan's, Fleet Street. None of these were trade 
 unions ; and all were swept away, together with those 
 which were held by Companies, under Henry VIII. and 
 Edward VI. 
 
 The Fishmongers' Company claim to have received the 
 earliest charter. They assert that it was granted by 
 Edward I., in 1289. There are a good many reasons 
 for doubting the truth of this allegation. The charter 
 is not mentioned in any way, or even alluded to, in 
 the charter of 1303, granted by Edward III. Of the
 
 94 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 twelve great Companies, as they are called, eight received 
 charters from the same King. Richard II. incorporated 
 the " Mistery of the Mercers in Cheap,'' and the Mercers' 
 Company now takes precedence among the twelve. The 
 history of the Goldsmiths has never been adequately 
 written. Long before they obtained their first charter, 
 in 1327, they had exerted an influence on the trade, and 
 still more on the finances, of the kingdom. The first 
 Mayor was probably a goldsmith. The great value of 
 a charter to the brethren of the fraternity of St. Dunstan 
 was that they were allowed to hold an estate of twenty 
 pounds annual value, for the benefit of sick or aged 
 members. About the same time they obtained the house 
 of Sir Nicholas Seagrave, in the parish of St. Vedast, as 
 headquarters, and they have remained on the same site 
 ever since. 
 
 It is easy enough to see from the records of the 
 purchase of Segrave House that, even as early as 1323, 
 four years before they had leave to hold land, the Gold- 
 smiths had attained sufficient consistency to enable them 
 to buy the house, the sale being nominally to then chap- 
 lain, William Clift. They have, without remuneration, 
 continued to assay and hall-mark gold and silver plate 
 ever since. In this respect they and the Fishmongers, 
 who also occupy a site which has belonged to them since 
 the date of their incorporation, are alone among the twelve 
 great Companies. It is often asserted that all the 
 Companies have functions of this kind and neglect them. 
 One writer believed, though he never gave any authority 
 for it, that the City Companies are bound to teach a trade 
 to anyone who comes to them. The duties self-imposed 
 on the Goldsmiths and Fishmongers are a boon to the 
 public, and deserve every acknowledgment ; but as- 
 sertions as to the duties of other Companies are,
 
 < 
 
 I 
 
 CO 
 
 cc 
 
 LU 
 
 Z 
 
 o 
 
 h 
 < 
 
 h
 
 THE CITY COMPANIES. 95 
 
 to say the least, impertinent. Such duties are not 
 within the list of the purposes for which they were 
 founded. 
 
 Besides those already named, the great Companies 
 comprise the Drapers, Haberdashers and Cloth workers . 
 They, with the so-called Merchant Taylors, would seem 
 to have formed members of the great Weavers' Guild, 
 but the question of their origin is too obscure for treatment 
 here. A Weavers' Company, with a merely nominal 
 income, still exists, but it seems only to have been chartered 
 by Queen Elizabeth with a view to the benefit of the 
 refugee silk weavers. There are also among the minor 
 Companies several which were connected with the great 
 cloth industry. The Broderers', Dyers', Feltmakers', Gird- 
 lers', and Woolmen's Companies are all in existence. A 
 long treatise might be written on the social and political 
 influence of the cloth trade of the Middle Ages both in 
 England and Scotland. Its traces are strong in our 
 modern surnames, such as Lister, a man who lists ; 
 Calendar, a man who calenders ; Walker, one who treads 
 the web ; Webster, one who weaves it ; Dyer, one who dyes 
 it ; Sherman, one who shears it ; to say nothing of Fuller, 
 Winder, Cutter, Tucker, Packer, Boxer, Cordcr, and 
 many more. 
 
 Among the Companies which are still concerned with 
 trade the Stationers' is one of the most interesting, 
 although its charter only dates from the time of Philip 
 and Mary. Little as we know about Shakespeare and 
 the first appearance of his plays, we should know less 
 than half as much but for the registers of this Company. 
 
 "Entered at Stationers' Hall" is a very familiar sen- 
 tence. There was a Guild of Stationers, but it cannot 
 have been very flourishing at a time when so few read 
 or wrote. When printing was invented, the Stationers
 
 96 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 rose in the world, but it was too late for their admission 
 to the ranks of the great Companies, nor are they very 
 remarkable for their wealth, although they distribute 
 large annual sums as pensions in the trade. The Tudors 
 had a dread of the printing press, and under Queen 
 Elizabeth the Company was made an implement of 
 religious and political tyranny. Printers everywhere 
 had to serve their time to a member of the Company, 
 and books could not be sold without its leave. There 
 were also many monopolies and privileges granted out- 
 side the ranks of the Company. The Queen's Printers 
 first, and afterwards the Universities, had leave to print 
 Bibles. Richard Tottel had a monopoly given him by 
 Queen Elizabeth for Law Books. At present, since the 
 Copyright Act of '42, any publisher can register a book 
 at the Hall, and proceedings for a breach of copyright 
 cannot be taken till a book has been so registered. The 
 Apothecaries' (a very poor Company) does excellent work 
 in examining, and long cultivated the old " Physic 
 Garden " at Chelsea. 
 
 Another Company exercised for a time somewhat 
 analogous powers. The Barber-Surgeons were incor- 
 porated by Edward IV., and a further Act of Incorporation 
 Avas passed in 1541. At this time surgeons obtained 
 their licences from the Bishop of London and the Dean 
 of St. Paul's. The Company examined the candidates and 
 recommended them to the Ecclesiastical functionaries. 
 
 The Company still flourishes, though it has no very 
 large number of members, " the livery " consisting of only 
 ninety-two persons. Of course, there are many others — 
 including, by the way, a lady — who are free of the Com- 
 pany, but who have not attained the dignity of livery. 
 One more Company should be mentioned, though of 
 much later origin than most of the others. Nevertheless,
 
 THE CITY COMPANIES. 97 
 
 " The Honourable Artillery Company " claims to repre- 
 sent, if not actually to be, a Guild of St. George, incor- 
 porated by Henry VIII. This Company was apparently 
 among those ruined by the statute against Guilds, and 
 before 1610 was extinct and the Artillery Garden given 
 up to the gunners from the Tower. The re-foundation 
 by James I., the suppression by Oliver Cromwell, and the 
 revival by Charles II. and by his brother, the first captain 
 of the modern corps, are facts which have been much 
 obscured in histories of the Company. It has lately 
 been reformed or rehabilitated, and may continue to 
 remind us of the old " trained bands " of the City, of 
 which Gilpin was an illustrious captain. 
 
 It is worth while to inquire into the expenditure of 
 one or two of the wealthier Companies. We may pre- 
 mise that, of the whole seventy-four, very few can be 
 called absolutely wealthy, and the great majority have 
 no estates at all. The twelve great Companies have over 
 ten thousand a year each, as have the Brewers, Carpenters, 
 Leathersellers, and Saddlers among the minor Companies. 
 Mr. Ditchfield, a well-known antiquary, versed in munici- 
 pal history, has for some time past investigated the 
 charities of the Companies. We take a few notes from 
 his interesting papers. The Mercers, who rank first 
 in civic precedence, are first also in wealth, their gross 
 income amounting to £83,000. Of this, £35,000 is held 
 in trust for various useful purposes, and is gratuitously 
 administered by the officials of the Company. The rest, 
 £48,000, is at the disposal of the members. It is curious 
 to observe that as lately as 1745 this great Company was 
 in difficulties. Money had been advanced to successive 
 kings, from Henry VIII. downward, and the Scots re- 
 bellion had emptied the till. Few or none of these loans 
 had been repaid. A Petition was presented to Parlia- 
 
 H
 
 98 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 ment, showing that the Company's unfortunate position 
 was caused by its advances for the public service, and 
 it received a grant from the coal dues. But better 
 times came. Judicious investments in estates situated 
 in or near London have greatly increased in value. The 
 Mercers' badge of a maiden's head, said by some to repre- 
 sent the Blessed Virgin, by others Queen Elizabeth, 
 is to be seen on many houses in and about Co vent 
 Garden. Their charities and other public works defy 
 enumeration. The Company is trustee of the great 
 estate of Sir Richard Whittington. A college of priests 
 on this foundation was suppressed under Henry VIII. , 
 and a large slice of the Whittington estate was confiscated, 
 but enough remains for the great almshouse known as 
 Whittington College at Highgate. Here twenty-eight 
 poor women are provided for at a cost of £2,454. In 
 connection with the same trust, £4,550 is given in pen- 
 sions to some 130 deserving persons, and about £3,000 
 more in special donations. 
 
 The estates left by Dean Colet, the friend of More 
 and Erasmus, are also administered by the Mercers, of 
 whom Colet said in his will that he made them his trustees 
 considering their assured truth and circumspect wisdom 
 and faithful goodness, and trusting in their fidelity and 
 love. It is needless to point to the new St. Paul's School 
 at Hammersmith as proof that the Mercers have worthily 
 carried out the trust. Also the}' administer a large number 
 of separate bequests for scholarships and other bene- 
 factions to the school. They have, likewise, an excellent 
 middle-class school in the City, where a hundred and 
 fifty boys are educated, the cost to the Company being 
 about £3,000 a year. Further, the Mercers manage the 
 well-known school founded by Richard Collier at Horsham 
 in Sussex, and another, founded at Lavington by Alderman
 
 LU 
 
 
 Z 
 
 
 3 
 
 
 V 
 
 
 1 
 
 in 
 
 o 
 
 oo 
 
 II 
 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 GO 
 
 > 
 
 
 o 
 
 O 
 
 2 
 HI 
 
 nr 
 
 o 
 
 
 I 
 o 
 
 CO 
 
 z 
 
 LU 
 
 
 5 
 
 co 
 
 
 <r 
 
 >- 
 
 O 
 
 CO 
 
 _i 
 > 
 
 Q 
 III 
 
 < 
 h 
 
 
 
 1- 
 
 en 
 III 
 
 ^ 
 
 n 
 
 < 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 cr 
 
 
 LU 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 
 <s
 
 
 •■■
 
 THE CITY COMPANIES. 99 
 
 Dauntsey in 1542. They are also trustees of the Gresham 
 estate, and, besides innumerable grants on former occasions, 
 gave £63,000 towards the latest rebuilding of the Royal 
 Exchange. Then, again, they take charge of Lady Mico's 
 almshouses at Stepney, and of Lord Northampton's 
 Hospital at Greenwich, which is only one part of the 
 extensive trust. These are a few items from an enormous 
 list. That they should be in the hands of a great and 
 wealthy body like the Mercers' Company is an immense 
 advantage to the charities. Suppose, for example, that 
 the particular estate or fund bequeathed for one of them 
 should ever be deficient, the poor would suffer, and the 
 charity, standing by itself, would in all probability fail ; 
 but the Mercers take care no such catastrophe shall occur 
 in any scheme for which they are trustees. Other funds 
 are spent in large gifts to such objects as their committees 
 consider deserving. They lately spent £1,000 on the 
 decoration of St. Paul's, and large sums on St. Albans 
 and Gloucester Cathedrals, on the City and Guilds of 
 London Institute, on University College, and a hundred 
 other objects. Their offices more nearly resemble a 
 large bank than a " guzzling society," as some of their 
 detractors call them, and while no so-called religious 
 society does more for philanthropy, the extreme care 
 with which all cases are sifted and investigated, the re- 
 luctance to pauperise those they help, involve a large 
 expenditure. 
 
 The income of the Drapers' Company comes next to 
 that of the Mercers, their corporate income being larger, 
 but their trust funds smaller. The Drapers had an 
 enormously long charter from James I., in which the 
 King, in contravention of the Statute, restored to the 
 Company the name of the Guild of the Blessed Virgin, 
 which had been abolished, at heavy cost to the Company,
 
 100 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 by the Acts of Henry VIII. and Edward VI. The King's 
 charter cannot legalise an illegal act, but the Drapers 
 have certainly a shadowy excuse for calling themselves 
 a Guild. 
 
 This Company support no less than two hundred 
 almshouses in the neighbourhood of London alone. They 
 are also trustees for a large number of apprenticeship 
 charities, a form of education generally believed obsolete. 
 They apprentice a hundred boys, besides a number of 
 girls, annually, chiefly orphans, and, standing towards 
 them in loco parentis, look after their welfare till they 
 are well out in the world. The Drapers were probably 
 the largest donors to the foundation of the People's Palace, 
 as they subscribed £70,000, and still give £7,000 a year. 
 They also do a great deal of good with the schools of which 
 they are trustees, or for which they pay out of corporate 
 funds. The schools may be met with all over the country, 
 and in many cases have proved stepping-stones to the 
 Universities. 
 
 Among the many other useful objects wherewith 
 they charge themselves is an Arabic professorship at 
 Cambridge. The great school at Woodford was endowed 
 with money bequeathed by the eccentric Francis Bancroft, 
 and was built at a cost of £50,000 out of the corporate 
 funds of the Company. They have applied to educational 
 purposes some bequests made for the relief of prisoners 
 for debt, and, like the Mercers, spend larger sums on 
 schools, male and female, than on anything else. 
 
 It is impossible to picture to ourselves the widespread 
 distress and misery which any tampering with the Com- 
 panies would cause. We had a slight taste of this a few 
 years ago. Several Companies had estates in Ulster. 
 They had been induced, chiefly by James I., to take the 
 land as part of the " plantation " of the province, and
 
 THE CITY COMPANIES. 101 
 
 the name of Londonderry is in itself a perpetual reminder 
 of the influence of the City on the newly settled districts. 
 The lands of the Companies were models of estate manage- 
 ment, except in one particular. The Companies did too 
 much : churches, schools, even meeting-houses and Roman 
 Catholic chapels, were provided for the petted tenants, 
 together with many other gifts and privileges. The 
 prosperity and contentment of the people of this region 
 made it particularly obnoxious to discontented tenants, 
 such as must exist on very large estates, and they 
 threatened and cajoled the rest into joining an agitation 
 against their landlords, the Companies. The story is 
 too long to tell in full, but the result was that the Com- 
 panies, or some of them, withdrew from Ireland. It is 
 almost incredible, but none the less strictly true, that 
 a fresh agitation was then got up, because the Companies 
 refused to continue the grants for the churches, chapels, 
 schools, and other institutions on the estates which once 
 were theirs. 
 
 We have only mentioned the Mercers and Drapers 
 at length, but every one of the great Companies has a 
 similar record. St. Peter's Hospital at Wandsworth, 
 for instance, is maintained by the Fishmongers. The 
 famous Grammar School at Ton bridge is the glory of 
 the Skinners. The Carpenters have almshouses both at 
 Twickenham and at Godalming. The Clothworkers have 
 given solid help to the technical colleges at Leeds, Bradford, 
 and other places interested in the manufacture of woollen 
 goods. The City Companies alone give no less than 
 £50,000 a year towards the support of various charitable 
 institutions both in London and in the country. They 
 spend £9,000 a year on primary education, £5,000 on the 
 education of the blind, and £50,000 on exhibitions and 
 scholarships at Oxford and Cambridge, including those
 
 102 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 for women. The total trust income of all the Companies 
 is estimated by Mr. Ditchfield at about £200,000, but 
 they are all wont to apply large sums from their cor- 
 porate income in supplementing and furthering the 
 objects of the trusts. 
 
 Here it may be well to point out a difficulty which 
 the so-called reformers will have to meet. If we endeavour 
 to analyse the position of the question, if question there 
 be, as to the existence of the Companies, we may put the 
 case in the barest way thus : A number of gentlemen of 
 great wealth and great respectability have agreed to com- 
 bine and form themselves into a kind of club. They have 
 obtained leave to hold lands and accept legacies. Old 
 members have made them trustees of money and estates 
 for charitable purposes, and these, at great trouble and 
 expense to themselves, they administer for the public 
 advantage. Not losing sight of the invariable practice 
 in England of, so to speak, hallowing any serious under- 
 taking with a dinner, they keep an excellent cook, have 
 an old cellar of wine, and give a great deal of employment 
 to waiters and other estimable people, in addition to the 
 army of clerks who look after the trust funds, estates, 
 and charities. These gentlemen have a perfect right to 
 meet, and when they meet to dine, if they can pay for it. 
 The £100,000 a year they are said to spend in hospitality 
 comes from three sources : it is partly a voluntary subscrip- 
 tion, it is partly corporate money, and it is partly money 
 specially left for the purpose by the same testators who 
 have bequeathed the trust funds for charitable purposes. 
 The Company exists for the purpose, among other 
 things, of dining. All the funds would be diminished 
 if the dinners were omitted, and only a very small sum, 
 if any, would be saved. The diners are the Company. 
 It is chiefly at the dinner table that they meet and discuss
 
 a. 
 
 o 
 
 D 
 
 O 
 
 O 
 
 » 
 
 
 
 
 v 
 
 D 
 
 i 
 
 Z 
 
 o 
 
 n 
 
 -' 
 
 ? 
 
 
 T 
 
 
 o 
 
 +J 
 
 
 *N 
 
 C£ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 LU 
 
 w 
 
 X 
 
 
 1- 
 
 £ 
 
 < 
 
 a: 
 m 
 o 
 
 z 
 o 
 
 z 
 o 
 
 tr 
 
 m 
 
 I 
 I- 
 
 d 
 
 D 
 O 
 
 C/5 
 C£ 
 LU 
 O 
 
 cc 
 
 LU 
 
 LU 
 
 I 
 I-

 
 THE CITY COMPANIES. 103 
 
 or broach or contribute to those magnificent charities for 
 which they are notable. 
 
 These dinners are themselves relics of a most remote 
 antiquity. The first item in the history of the long- 
 extinct Guilds was the name of the saint on whose day 
 they dined. It is the same with the Companies, and, as 
 might be supposed, all that is curious and quaint about 
 them seems to culminate in the dinner. First, there 
 is the Hall with its portraits and its solid old furniture, 
 and the parcel-gilt cups and beakers — gifts and bequests 
 of old members. Pepys gave a cup and cover to the 
 Cloth workers in 1677, and they use it still. The Skinners 
 treasure five silver-gilt cups in the form of fighting-cocks, 
 each standing on a tortoise, the bequest of William 
 Cockayne in 1598. The Merchant Taylors possess a pair 
 of grand silver tankards with a text in Latin, " Naked, 
 and ye clothed me." The Milkmaid Cup of the Vintners 
 is famous, and dates from 1568. The Barber-Surgeons 
 received a Royal Oak Cup from Charles II. In short, 
 the number and beauty of these ornaments of the dinner 
 table scattered among the London Companies are marvel- 
 lous. The most singular cup is perhaps that of the Mercers. 
 It is Gothic, or at least Tudor, in style. The arms of 
 the Company represent a " Demi- Virgin " with her hair 
 dishevelled, and the cup is covered all over with a 
 fretwork enclosing, at intervals, representations of the 
 maiden's head. But the top of the cover is the most 
 curious part of the composition ; it consists of a hexagonal 
 boss, richly ornamented, on which is seated the figure of 
 a maiden, with a unicorn reposing its head hi her lap* 
 Tliis cup dates from before the reign of Queen Elizabeth, 
 which began in November, 1553, so that the popular idea 
 mentioned above that the Mercers' arms represent the 
 Queen is erroneous. There cannot be any doubt that the
 
 104 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Virgin Mary is intended. At Mercers' processions and 
 feasts, down to 1686, there was always present " a young 
 and beautiful gentlewoman " who, with hair dishevelled, 
 sat on a lofty chariot, drawn by nine white Flanders 
 horses. She was attired in silk, covered with jewels, and 
 wore a coronet of gold on her head. This " fair one with 
 the golden locks " also sat at the banquet, at a table by 
 herself, where she had nothing to do but to eat her 
 dinner and look pretty. They " remunerated her assiduity 
 with a pecuniary consideration," and she took her dress 
 and her jewels as a perquisite.
 
 105 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 BERKHAMPSTEAD. 
 
 Little Fragments of a Great Place — Age of the Castle— The Earl 
 of Cornwall — Memories of the Castle— Richard, King of the 
 Romans — Abbot John of Berkhanipstead — The Black Prince 
 at Berkhampstead — " Proud Cis " — Lord Falkland — Decay of 
 the Castle — The Church— Dean lucent — Birthplace of William 
 Cowper. 
 
 Travellers from London on the North-Western Railwav 
 may observe, after emerging from great cuttings and a 
 tunnel, and passing Boxmoor, a thick wood on the right 
 of the line and facing the long straggling town which 
 occupies a slope on the left. The town is Berkhampstead, 
 or as it is sometimes spelt, Berkhamsted ; indeed, some 
 fifty other ways of spelling the name are given in Mr. 
 Cobb's " History and Antiquities of Berkhamsted." Just 
 before we pass the railway station, twenty-six miles from 
 London and five from Tring, two fragments of a double 
 wall standing parallel to each other near the edge of the 
 wood catch the eye for a moment. In another moment 
 the wood is out of sight, and the open country, pleasantly 
 undulating, extends to a distant horizon on both sides. 
 But those two little fragments of flint masonry have a 
 history worth pausing over. They have their place 
 even in the history of the nation. To keep the passage 
 between them was once a charge worthy of the greatest
 
 106 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 subject in the realm. Through the gateway whose place 
 they mark, in peace or war many a noble procession has 
 passed. They admitted in turn John of England and 
 Louis of France ; John of France and Richard King of the 
 Romans. Here the Black Prince lived, and here, in the 
 days of his son, Chaucer was clerk of the works. Froissart 
 was here with the Queen in 1361, and probably again in 
 1394, with Richard II. 
 
 But all the glory is now departed ; except the site 
 little is left, and it looks to-day probably much as it did 
 when, in 1087, Robert of Mortaigne came at the Con- 
 queror's bidding to build the castle. The earthworks 
 and the mound were there then as they are now, but 
 hardly anything besides, unless some wooden sheds for the 
 shelter of the soldiers. At what date the mound was made, 
 and the ditches were first opened, it is not possible to say. 
 When the Conqueror came they were there, and his coming 
 is perhaps the first authentic event in the history of Berk- 
 hampstead, unless we accept it as the scene of St. Brith- 
 wald's Council in 697, and not rather Bearsted near 
 Maidstone, or Brasted near Sevenoaks. But if authentic 
 history is silent, tradition is not. St. Paul was here when 
 he had journeyed into Spain, and, according to the same 
 authority, he signalised his visit by an act of exorcism 
 similar to that, some three centuries later, performed by 
 St. Patrick in Ireland. Both serpents and lightning 
 have visited the parish since, and seem to regard the 
 exorcism from the sceptical point of view which is now 
 generally considered appropriate to the pleasant fables of 
 local tradition. We only know that before the Conquest, 
 Berkhampstead was a place of importance— perhaps on 
 account of its military position and because it was one 
 link of a complete chain of fortresses which surrounded 
 and guarded the valley of the Thames. Though it had
 
 THE TORRINGTON MONUMENT, BERKHAMPSTEAD CHURCH, 
 (from a Print by Blore, 1815.
 
 BERKHAMPSTEAD. 107 
 
 previously been inhabited, and possibly strengthened by 
 the Kings of Mercia, and afterwards by the successors 
 of Alfred, it owes its first regular fortification to William, 
 whose military genius recognised it as one of the series 
 of which Rochester, Guildford, Farnham, Windsor, and 
 Wallingford were the other members. 
 
 William was here before he reached London, and, 
 as we have seen, he probably found here already the cone 
 on which the keep of his castle was to rise, as similar cones 
 had been found and turned to account at four out of five 
 of the other places. In some respects the Berkhampstead 
 keep may have resembled that of Windsor, being sur- 
 rounded by a moat of its own, partly within the moat of 
 the whole fortress and partly conterminous with it. The 
 mound was used to support a hollow shell of masonry, 
 as at Cardiff, but only the saucer-like configuration of 
 the summit now remains to indicate its existence. And 
 all the rest of the buildings which made up the Castle 
 have shared the fate of the keep. There was once a 
 chapel near the foot of the mound, one of three with which 
 the Castle was sanctified. Of it there remain only some 
 fragments of brass-work, discovered lately on the site. 
 The two decaying walls near the railway station are all 
 that is left of the entrance gatewa} 7 , and a key dug up 
 when the road was made is all that is tangible of the 
 gate itself. 
 
 Whether the builder of Berkhampstead Castle was ever 
 Earl of Cornwall is more a matter of nomenclature than 
 of actual historical question ; but it is certain that from 
 his time the Castle has followed the fortunes of the Earls 
 and Dukes of Cornwall. The Duke of Cornwall and 
 York is its present inheritor. To the first duke, better 
 known as the Black Prince, it was a favourite residence ; 
 here, in 1361, he took his last leave of his mother, when
 
 108 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Froissart was told of the prophecy of Merlin that the 
 crown would never rest on the head of Edward or of the 
 next prince, Lionel, but descend to the son of the third 
 brother John. While living at Berkhampstead, before 
 the sad days which closed his father's glorious reign, he 
 fell ill, and when but half recovered set out from here 
 to meet the Parliament at Westminster, only a few days 
 before his death. Of older memories than these the 
 Castle has no lack. We may choose between such names 
 as those of the FitzPiers and the Mandevilles, Lords of 
 Berkhampstead ; of Thomas Becket, sometime its cus- 
 todian ; of King John, who granted the town its first 
 charter ; of Louis of France, his siege of the Castle, and 
 the fruitless braver} 7 displayed by the defenders ; but 
 the two most interesting names in the list of its occupants 
 are perhaps those of Richard King of the Romans and 
 of Cicely Duchess of York. 
 
 Richard seems to have been formally invested with 
 the title which his father had borne. As Earl of 
 Cornwall, he lived much at Berkhampstead. From 
 it he set out on his expeditions, first to the Holy Land, 
 and afterwards on a scarcely less unreal errand : this 
 was to Germany, in quest of the crown of the Romans, 
 which, when he had lavished much of the treasure 
 gathered from the English Jews, he obtained in 1257. 
 As King of the Romans, he lived and died here ; and 
 here he brought successively three wives. The first was 
 one of the co-heiresses of the Marshalls, Earls of Pembroke, 
 and the widow of Gilbert de Clare. She died in child- 
 bed at Berkhampstead, and perhaps it was owing to his 
 grief that he assumed the cross. On his return, after 
 three years' widowerhood, he married Sanchia, one of the 
 four queens, daughters of Raymond, Count of Provence. 
 After sixteen years' exile from the sunny skies of her
 
 BERKHAMPSTEAD. 109 
 
 native land, she too died at Berkhampstead, having lost all 
 her children successively except one, Edmund, who sur- 
 vived his father, but eventually died childless. The 
 King's last wife was perhaps better suited to the climate 
 of Hertfordshire. According to most accounts, she was 
 Beatrice von Falkestein, the niece of Archbishop Conrad 
 of Cologne, and she survived her husband. In April, 1272, 
 the body of Richard, King of the Romans, Count of 
 Poictou, and Earl of Cornwall, was carried from Berk- 
 hampstead to Hales Abbey for interment, and his heart 
 to the church of the Friars Minor, at Oxford. In 1300 
 his only son died, and the county of Cornwall, with the 
 Castle of Berkhampstead, reverted to the Crown. 
 
 Edward I. made it the dower of his second wife, 
 and is further posthumously connected with the place, 
 because one of the letters of Edward III., dated from 
 the Castle, relates to the removal of the cerecloth of 
 his grandfather, — " de cera renovanda circa corpus 
 Edwardi Primi." Six picked men from Berkhampstead 
 served at Crecy, but this reign is signalised in the 
 annals of the town by an event of a different character. 
 In 1291, John of Berkhampstead, a native, was 
 elected Abbot of St. Albans. During his rule it was 
 that the remains of Queen Elinor rested at St. Albans 
 on their long journey from " Herdeby " to Westminster, 
 and he was the Abbot who, in 1295, succeeded in obtaining 
 for the church protection from the additional taxes levied 
 to support the King's wars. There is a curious manu- 
 script record of the Abbots of St. Albans and their 
 benefactors in the British Museum (Nero D7), from 
 which we gather that Abbot John of Berkhampstead 
 offended his monks by insisting on their keeping their 
 vows. They revenged themselves on his memory by 
 representing him wringing his hands with an expression
 
 110 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 of deep remorse, and add this sentence for his epitaph : 
 " Since he did nothing memorable in his life we shall 
 place nothing respecting him in the present page ; but 
 we warn the reader that he be converted to works of 
 piety, and pour forth prayers " for the Abbot's soul. 
 
 Under Edward III. the Castle attained its greatest 
 splendour, or rather under his son the Black Prince, of 
 whose tenure of it we have already spoken. Richard II. 
 gave it to his favourite Vere, but on his attainder it 
 returned to the Crown. Edward IV. gave the town a 
 fresh charter, which was of more real importance to the 
 inhabitants than even the presence of Chaucer and Frois- 
 sart. It is not many years since the exemption of the 
 tradesmen from serving on juries was acknowledged by 
 the law courts, in accordance with the privileges of this 
 charter. And thus we reach the name of the King's 
 mother, the last and one of the greatest of the denizens 
 of the Castle. This was Cicely Duchess of York, the 
 daughter of the head of the Nevilles, the niece of Henry IV., 
 the aunt of the King-maker, sister of five peers of the 
 realm, mother of two kings, and for many years the greatest 
 lady in the land. " Proud Cis " has passed into a proverb, 
 and no one can wonder if she was proud. Whether she 
 was or not, one thing is certain : she was a woman of 
 sufficient talent to keep her high position all her life, and 
 of sufficient strength to survive the misfortunes which in 
 those days seemed appropriate to high rank. Her hus- 
 band, her brother, and her second son all perished after 
 the fatal field of Wakefield ; yet she survived to see another 
 son put to death by his own brother, and a third slain 
 in battle. She outlived Bosworth nearly eleven years. 
 Before her death she saw her eldest son's heiress on the 
 throne, and the young Henry— who, after bearing for a 
 time the title which had been her husband's, was destined
 
 JOHN OF BERKHAMPSTEAD, ABBOT OF ST. ALBANS. 
 (From Cotton MSS., Nero D 7.)
 
 RERKHAMPSTEAD. Ill 
 
 to extinguish in the blood of her granddaughter the last 
 fading glimmer of the great Plantagenet name— had 
 reached the age of five years. She lived and regulated 
 her household, at Berkhampstead, until 1490, when, after 
 seeing her granddaughter's husband put her grandson 
 to death and her daughter take up the cause of an impostor, 
 she died, full of honours and of all the attendants of honour, 
 after a life which, viewed in the perspective of four cen- 
 turies, appears, according to the light turned upon it, 
 either such a long tragedy, or else such a course of pros- 
 perity, as is unexampled in our annals. The arms of the 
 Duchess Cicely are still to be seen in a window of the nave 
 of the church. She died here in 1495, and was buried at 
 Fotheringay beside her husband, whom she had survived 
 nearly thirty-five years. 
 
 After her death the Castle fell into decay, and her 
 descendant Queen Elizabeth granted it, at the annual rent 
 of a red rose to be paid on the feast of St. John the Baptist, 
 to Sir Edward Carey, the father of the first Lord Falkland, 
 and cousin of the Queen's cousin Henry Carey, Lord 
 Hunsdon. It was already ruined, as Leland describes it, 
 and when Sir Edward built the house on the hill just 
 above it, the old walls no doubt formed a convenient quarry 
 for the supply of building stone. 
 
 After it had thus mounted the hill piecemeal its 
 connection with great folk and great events continued 
 as before the translation. Here Lucius, Lord Falkland, 
 spent much of his boyhood ; and when the Careys ceased 
 to live here the house was occupied by some of the house- 
 hold of James I. Prince Charles was here in 1G16, and 
 as Duke of Cornwall obtained from his father a charter 
 for the town by which its privileges were enlarged and a 
 bailiff and burgesses appointed. Camden, the King of 
 Arms, granted the corporation a coat of arms, in which
 
 112 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 the Castle figures prominently " within a border of Corne- 
 wall, viz. Sables, bezanted." But, after lasting less than 
 fifty years, the trouble of electing and sustaining a 
 corporation grew too great for the sleepy little town, and 
 though they still claim some of their privileges, the 
 charter has long been a dead letter to the burgesses of 
 Berkhampstead. 
 
 Under the Commonwealth, the house which had 
 succeeded the Castle was again prominent. During the 
 Protectorate it was occupied by Colonel Axtel, the Regicide ; 
 after the Restoration, by Weston, Earl of Portland, the 
 Chancellor, in whose day the greater part of it was destroyed 
 by fire. In its reduced state it was rented by John Sayer, 
 who, as his epitaph in the church informs us, had been 
 " Archimagirus," or chief cook, to Charles II., and who 
 at his death in 1682 left houses and a weekly pension to 
 six widows. It still belongs to the Duchy of Cornwall, 
 and is now under a lease, with the Castle, or its site in the 
 valley below, to the owner of the neighbouring park of 
 Ashridge. 
 
 The Castle and its successive occupants have left less 
 mark upon the church of Berkhampstead than might have 
 been expected. None of the royal and princely folk seem 
 to have selected it as a burial-place, and the only monu- 
 ments which connect it with the Castle are those of John 
 Raven, esquire to the Black Prince, of King Charles's 
 cook, already mentioned, and of Robert Incent, " late 
 s'vant unto the noble princesse lady Cecyle duchesse of 
 Yorke, and mother unto the worthy King Edward the 
 IIII and Richard the thyrde, whych sayd Robert Incent 
 dyed of the grete swetyng sykenesse the first yere of the 
 Reygne of King Henry the VII." Dean Incent was his 
 son, and founded the Grammar School in 1541 ; dying 
 in 1545, he was buried in the church, but his monument
 
 BERKHAMPSTEAD. 113 
 
 is no longer extant. The name of Incent or Innocent 
 lingered till lately in the parish, and the quaint arms of 
 the Dean are still to be seen on stained glass in the Head - 
 master's parlour. They are alluded to in lines preserved 
 by Weever, but now no longer to be seen ; and the descrip- 
 tion, " Argent, on a bend gules an Innocent or," seems to 
 mean an infant holding a rose. 
 
 The last event connecting Berkhampstead and royalty 
 seems to have been the residence here of Peter the Wild 
 Boy, who had been found and sent over as a curiosity to 
 George II., and lived here till his death in 1785. The 
 collar with his guardian's name and address is still at 
 Ashridge, " Peter the Wild man from Hanover. Who- 
 ever will bring him to Mr. Fenn, at Berkhampstead, 
 Hertfordshire, shall be paid for their trouble." But 
 the modern traveller will be more interested by another 
 and worthier association. In the Bectory House was 
 born, in 1731, the great Christian poet, William Cowper, 
 and in the east window of the church, recently filled with 
 stained glass in honour of his memory, we may see him 
 depicted, and at his feet the three tame hares winch he 
 immortalised. The house is now pulled down, and the 
 only tangible relic of the poet seems to be the garden and 
 the old well-house. His mother's tomb is in the chancel — 
 the mother whose picture, received in after life, drew 
 from him some of the most touching Hues in our language.
 
 114 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TEMPLE BAN. 
 
 Lud Gate and its Origin — The Ward of Farringdon — The 
 Successive Temple Bars — Sir Horace Jones's Monument — 
 Are the Middle and Inner Temples in the Lord Mayor's 
 Jurisdiction? — The Outer Temple— Dr. Barebone. 
 
 In the early history of London nothing is more difficult 
 than to assign a date to Ludgate. If we believe the old- 
 fashioned writers, it is the oldest of the City gates. If 
 we accept the newer lights, it is the latest. The latter 
 view is probably the true one ; the old story of King Lud 
 is brushed aside like that of King Belin ; and it is, at any 
 rate, not very difficult to find a time, which may be chrono- 
 logically determined, when there was only one way out of 
 the City over the Fleet, and that was by Newgate. When 
 Lud Gate was connected with a bridge, the road to West- 
 minster at once joined the suburbs about Shoe Lane and 
 St. Clement Danes with the City; and, in accordance 
 with the custom of the time, these suburbs became wards, 
 and had their aldermen, who, however, answer rather 
 to the modern idea of lords of manors than aldermen. 
 A very curious and interesting account of the descent 
 of the ward of Farringdon, gathered from the Hustings 
 Rolls at the Guildhall, may be found in Dr. Sharpe's 
 first volume (pp. 112, 397). Stow had an inkling of the 
 story, but appears to have misread the documents. They
 
 TEMPLE BAR IN 1800. 
 (From a Print by Dayes.)
 
 TEMPLE BAR. 115 
 
 are too technical for quotation here. But it would 
 appear that Farringdon's heiress and her husband took 
 the name instead of that of Le Fevre, and so puzzled 
 posterity. In 1223, Joce Fitz Peter was the alderman 
 of Ludgate. One of his successors, John, the son of 
 Ralph le Fevre, sold the ward of Ludgate to William 
 Farringdon, and it was joined to the other suburban estate 
 of that wealthy alderman, becoming, what it continues 
 after the lapse of six hundred years, the great ward of 
 Farringdon Without. The one person whose rights were 
 invaded by this extension of the Liberties of London was 
 the Abbot of Westminster. His manor of St. Margaret's, 
 he contended, reached to the Fleet ; and the truth of this 
 allegation is proved by the fact that he presented to the 
 churches of St. Dunstan's and St. Bride's ; yet it was at 
 the same time closely connected with the City, for, in 
 1278, Thomas Auverne had an annual quit rent from 
 " the baily of Ludgate, which he bequeathed to the church 
 of ' St. Brigid ' for candles at the altar of St. Mary." The 
 Dean and Chapter of Westminster are still the patrons 
 of St. Bride's ; but in the thirteenth century Henry III. 
 persuaded the Abbot to give him St. Dunstan's that he 
 might annex it to the house in Chancery Lane which he 
 was then founding for converted Jews. Henry little fore- 
 saw the day when a Jew would reign in the same house 
 as the Master of the Rolls, and the Abbot as little foresaw 
 the day when Temple Bar would be gravely described 
 as one of the City gates. 
 
 The ward, indeed, can hardly be said to have been 
 recognised before 1340, when its representatives were 
 first admitted to the Common Council. The word 
 Ludgate in Anglo-Saxon, properly Lydgate, denotes a 
 postern,- a small opening in a wall, or fortification. The 
 Legend of King Lud was invented when the meaning
 
 116 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 of the name had been forgotten. The Fleet Bridge 
 was in existence before 1228, and the " bar of the New 
 Temple " is mentioned as early as the first year of the 
 fourteenth century. Keeping these meagre facts in 
 mind, it is curious to inquire for the mention of a time 
 when there was no bar there. Even this may be obtained, 
 for in the grant of a piece of ground to Peter of Savoy 
 in 1246, it is described as lying in the Strand outside 
 the walls of London. In all subsequent documents it 
 is described as lying outside Temple Bars. There were 
 Wards without and bars in other places — Bishopsgate, 
 for instance, and Holborn. We know, then, that Temple 
 Bars came into existence after 1246 and before the end 
 of the century, and in all probability some further in- 
 formation may come to light on the subject before very 
 long. 
 
 That the Temple Bars formed a City gate — that is to 
 say, a fortified opening in the wall — probably few would 
 now assert. But when the triumphal arch, erected in 1670, 
 was removed a little time ago, there was much lamentation 
 in certain quarters at the loss of " the last of our City 
 gates." Considering that the boundary between the 
 Ward of Farringdon Without and the parish of St. Clement 
 Danes was absolutely unmarked by any defence, it would 
 be hard to say what the gate, if it was a gate, was situated 
 in. A gate implies a wall, or fence, or something of the kind. 
 Yet we know that access could be had from the Templars' 
 tilt yard into the " City " by various ways, as numerous, 
 probably, as they are now, between Carey Street and 
 Chancery Lane. The ground, Fickett's Field, or Little 
 Lincoln's Inn Field, as it was called, on which the religious 
 knights took then diversion, is now covered by the New 
 Law Courts and that part of Lincoln's Inn which was known 
 as Searle's Court. Here long stood a pillar attributed to
 
 o 
 o 
 
 CD 
 
 cr 
 < 
 
 CO 
 LU 
 
 LU 
 I-
 
 TEMPLE BAR. 117 
 
 Inigo Jones, and a fountain. Among the thirty-three 
 streets and courts pulled down there was a Shire Lane, 
 whose very name is interesting, marking as it did the 
 exact boundary between what was then the County of 
 Middlesex and the City of London. The name had, 
 however, for some years been lost in that of Searle's Place ; 
 but Stow, who says it " divideth the cittie from the shire," 
 adds that it adjoins Temple Bar ; and this is all the 
 mention he accords to the " gate." He stumbles over the 
 name of Fetter Lane, which shows us where some of 
 the armourers made rests, or fewtres, for the lances of 
 the knights in the adjoining tilting ground. 
 
 Shortly after Stow's time a wooden building, some- 
 what like a toll-house, was placed across the narrow 
 street, and on its removal in a ruinous state the archway 
 of stone was made by Wren, and adorned with statues 
 of the two Kings Charles, and of King James I. and 
 Queen Anne of Denmark, by Bushnell. It was worth 
 preserving, and everyone is glad to hear of its re-erection 
 at Theobald's Park, near Waltham Cross, though a place 
 on the Embankment — at the gate of the Temple Gardens, 
 for instance — would have been preferable. It was designed 
 for a City site, and is to some extent literally out of place 
 in the country, though it looks well, surrounded with fine 
 old oak trees, in its new home. 
 
 Street, the architect, in one of his earlier designs for 
 the Law Courts, proposed a kind of Rialto reaching 
 from the new buildings into the Temple, and affording 
 the lawyers a safe conduct over Fleet Street. It 
 would have been a very picturesque feature in the view, 
 and would have commemorated Temple Bar very worthily. 
 But other counsels prevailed, and it is impossible to feel 
 much regret that the noble street is uninterrupted — 
 forming as it does a much more imposing entrance to
 
 118 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 the greatest city in the world than any archway, short 
 of an edifice equalling the Arc de l'Etoile itself, could do. 
 As a memorial, and as a boundary stone, Sir Horace Jones's 
 refuge in the centre of the carriage way is perfectly effectual. 
 There can be no hesitation as to the true site of the " bar 
 of the new Temple," and, historically speaking, a mere 
 monument is more appropriate to the site than a mock 
 gateway. At first it can have been only a toll-bar. 
 The removal of the " Gate " is of the nature of a 
 " restoration," as restoration is understood nowadays. 
 
 Although the Middle and Inner Temples are within 
 the Bar, it is a question which has often occurred whether 
 they are in the jurisdiction of the Lord Mayor. No 
 settlement has ever been arrived at ; one or two Mayors 
 have been mobbed for driving into the Temple with the 
 State Sword held erect. If we remember that when 
 the Templars removed from their house in Holborn, 
 and came to the wider site by the river's edge, in 1118, 
 the suburb of Fleet Street had not yet been made, it is 
 quite intelligible that their house was never reckoned 
 in the City. When they built it a marsh and a tidal 
 estuary were between them and Ludgate, and to get 
 within the wall it was necessary to go up " Show Well 
 Lane," now Shoe Lane, through a newly built street 
 on the high ground round the church of St. Andrew. 
 When the "Friars Preachers" came to England, in 1221, 
 they first made good their footing on this hill, and gradually 
 pieced together a little estate, which, when they removed 
 in 1276, like the Templars, to a riverside site, they sold 
 to the Earl of Lincoln. Thus, bit by bit, the ground 
 was occupied on the north side of Fleet Street. Then, 
 between the Black Friars and the Templars, the inter- 
 vening riverside site was taken by the White, or Carmelite 
 Friars ; and so the chain of houses, on both sides of
 
 < 
 
 < 
 
 I 
 
 h 
 
 ^ co 
 
 £ w 
 
 *~ z 
 
 o, O 
 
 - <5 
 
 w ? 
 
 5 o 
 
 O H 
 
 o 
 
 Z Q 
 
 3 - 
 
 . D 
 
 CO 
 LU 
 
 _l 
 
 cr 
 < 
 
 LU 
 
 CO 
 
 O 
 
 UJ 
 
 > 
 
 D 
 
 _l 
 O
 
 TEMPLE BAR. 119 
 
 Fleet Street, was completed, from the outlying village on 
 the hill, crowned by St. Clement Danes, to the bottom 
 of the valley, over which the towers of the postern at 
 Ludgate looked out. 
 
 It is not so difficult to picture the state of the " suburb " 
 at that time if we remember the fluctuations of level which 
 are still encountered between Temple Bar and Ludgate 
 Circus. Opposite Chancery Lane the roadway is thirty- 
 eight feet above high-water mark, but only 20 feet at 
 St. Bride's, and fifteen feet where it crosses Bridge Street. 
 There is a depression also just outside Temple Bar, a de- 
 pression probably marking the place where a little brook 
 once ran, of which Milford Lane recalls the memory. 
 A brook and a mill and a ford would look strangely out 
 of place there now, but the names preserve them as matters 
 of history ; just as the City still pays rent for a certain 
 tenement called the Forge, probably burnt by Wat Tyler, 
 which, stood over against Milford Lane, and was the 
 armourer's shop — a natural adjunct — when the knights 
 tilted in Fickett's Field. One ingenious writer has sup- 
 posed that Milford Lane marks a ford over the Thames, 
 while another cites a discovery of mediaeval pottery in 
 Chancery Lane as a sign that Fleet Street was occupied 
 by the Romans. It is somewhat strange that so many 
 books have been written about Old London, and that 
 so few writers have followed the good example of Stow, 
 who both made up as far as he could the early records 
 and also walked over the ground. 
 
 In many books about Temple Bar there is not so much 
 as a single mention of the Outer Temple. It would stand 
 to reason, we might suppose, prior to experience, that, 
 if there is a Middle Temple, and if there is an Inner Temple, 
 there must have been an Outer one. It was not given 
 to the lawyers, but was occupied first by a Bishop, and
 
 120 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 afterwards by a line of Earls, one of whom, Essex, was 
 here besieged after his abortive rebellion towards the 
 close of Elizabeth's reign. But perhaps the most im- 
 portant fact in the history of the Outer Temple is that 
 the first streets and lanes on its site were those built by 
 Dr. Nicholas Barbon, or Barebone, the son of the too 
 famous Praise-God Barebone, M.P., and nephew of If- 
 C hrist-h ad-not-died-f or-thee-thou-hadst-been-damned Bare- 
 bone, a man best known to his contemporaries at Cambridge 
 as " Damned Barebone." The family was of French, 
 probably Huguenot, descent. Wren built Dr. Barebone 
 a house in Crane Court, a few doors east of Fetter Lane, 
 and in 1710 it was purchased by the Royal Society, who 
 held their meetings in it until they removed to Somerset 
 House in 1780. The house was destroyed by fire in 1877. 
 The western boundary of the Outer Temple must be 
 sought in Essex Street, which with Devereux Court and 
 some other local names still commemorates " Queen Eliza- 
 beth's earl," beheaded within the Tower on Ash Wednesday, 
 the 25th of February, 1601.
 
 
 INNER TEMPLE IN 1796. 
 {From the Print by Malton.)
 
 121 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 
 
 Churches Built before 1666 — Churches since Destroyed— 
 Parochial Divisions— St. Bartholomew's and Its Founder, 
 Rahere — The Church as it was in the Fifteenth Century — 
 Prior Bolton: His Pun and His Window— The Monuments 
 in the Church— St. Giles's, Cripplegate — Its Churchyard — 
 The Parish Guest House— The Monuments— St. Helen's, 
 Bishopsgate : " The Westminster Abbey of the City " — Crosby 
 Hall — St. Ethelburga's — St. Andrew Undershaft — St. 
 Katharine Cree — Where did Holbein Die ? — Allhallows, 
 Barking — St, Olave's, Hart Street — Pepys — A Curious 
 Relic. 
 
 The whole number of City churches older than 1666 is 
 exceedingly small. At present, placing them alpha- 
 betically, they are Allhallows, Barking ; St. Andrew 
 Undershaft ; St. Bartholomew the Great ; St. Ethelburga ; 
 St. Giles, Cripplegate ; St. Helen ; St. Katharine Cree ; 
 and St. Olave, Hart Street. In addition to these, which 
 may be reckoned parish churches, there is the Dutch 
 church, the old chapel of the Austin Friars, which has 
 been so ruthlessly " restored " as to have practically lost 
 its interest. If Ely Place is not outside the City boundary, 
 another fine example of the old Pointed style may be 
 found in the Roman Catholic chapel of St. Etheldreda, 
 which, in spite of some very obvious, therefore not very 
 hurtful, novelties, has been carefully and reverently
 
 122 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 restored, in the less invidious sense of that misused term. 
 The porch and some other parts of St. Sepulchre's, and 
 the lower part of the tower of St. Mary Aldermary, are 
 also ancient. 
 
 Though these are all the Gothic churches that survive 
 the Great Fire, five others, now rebuilt or pulled down, 
 were spared by the flames. First there is St. Bar- 
 tholomew the Less, which is really the hospital chapel, 
 as the hospital is a parish in itself, and was partly rebuilt 
 by Dance hi what he considered a Gothic style in 1789 ; 
 further altered by Hardwicke in 1823 ; and finally, a 
 few years ago, renewed and redecorated in a very fair if 
 somewhat unpicturesque and stiff manner. Next we 
 have St. Katharine Coleman, which is close to Fenchurch 
 Street Station, and, notwithstanding the unanimous oppo- 
 sition of a large resident population, has been condemned 
 to be destroyed. It was built on the site of a semi-ruinous 
 old church in 1734, and cannot be admired. In St. 
 Peter-le-Poor, in Broad Street, we have a much more 
 favourable example of the style which was in vogue in 1791, 
 when, the old church having become dangerous, a new 
 one was erected by Gibson. St. Andrew, Holborn, was 
 rebuilt by Wren, with the exception of part of the tower. 
 
 Yet a third category remains to be noticed. Of the 
 churches spared by the Fire and destroyed in our own day 
 the most remarkable was Allhallows Staining, in Mark 
 Lane. Of this curiously patched and interesting little 
 church the tower still remains behind the houses ; but 
 St. Martin Outwich was utterly destroyed in 1877, and 
 the monuments it contained were removed to St. Helen's. 
 It was, in its last years, a singular example of architectural 
 taste. It was designed by Cockerell, and to use the words 
 of Godwin and Britton, writing in 1839, it was " exceedingly 
 heavy and ugly, and would not be readily recognised as
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 123 
 
 a church by casual observers." It would be no great 
 loss, if its place had not been taken by a still uglier building. 
 In St. Michael, Wood Street, destroyed a very few years 
 ago, there were considerable remains of a mediaeval church. 
 It adds to our regret when a building of Wren's is re- 
 moved that it is invariably succeeded by something which 
 cannot be described as worthy of the City. I need only 
 mention the bank which has succeeded St. Michael's, or 
 the shops which now disfigure the ground once occupied 
 by a masterpiece — the tower of St. Antholin, Watling 
 Street. 
 
 One other old City church is well known, St. Peter 
 ad Vincula. It seems to have been the parish church 
 of the district which Henry III. included in his curtain 
 wall, but was in existence and is mentioned in documents 
 much earlier as "apud Turrim." 
 
 When was the City divided into parishes ? On another 
 page (72) I have spoken of the great church building 
 age which followed the Great Fire of 1136. Before that 
 time there is evidence of the existence of a very small 
 number of churches. There are several theories on the 
 subject of parochial divisions which need not delay us 
 here, further than to notice one which affords us a clue 
 to go by — a clue, however, which does not guide us very 
 far. According to it the early divisions were of the 
 simplest character. The east end, within as well as 
 without the wall, formed the parish of Allhallows, the 
 church of which may have been Allhallows Stepney, 
 (afterwards dedicated to St. Dunstan), or Allhallows, 
 Barking, in Tower Street, or All Hallows Staining, in Mark 
 Lane. The centre of the City was St. Mary's on both sides 
 of the Wall brook, and included the Cheap, or market-place, 
 the parish church being still distinguished as St. Mary 
 " Aldermary." The whole west end was under St. Paul's,
 
 124 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 and may or may not have been a parish of that name. 
 Even before the time of Alfred there had been encroach- 
 ments on this simple arrangement. St. Alban's, in Wood 
 Street, marks the site of the royal burgh, bury, or palace, 
 and was given to his great abbey at St. Albans by Offa. 
 Whether this church with its parish was then made, or 
 whether, as Maitland conjectures, it was not till the time 
 of Alfred, St. Alban's, Wood Street, remains the oldest 
 parochial division, besides the three mentioned above, 
 about which we have even conjecture worthy of notice. 
 It has been assumed that the great St. Erkenwald, who 
 is said to be commemorated in Bishopsgate, built St. 
 Etlielburga's Church close to the gate as a monument 
 to the piety of a lady of the royal family of Sebert, the 
 first Christian King of Essex. We shall have occasion to 
 notice this church more at large. Another church which 
 may be connected with this period, but which much more 
 likely belongs to that of Alfred, is St. Osyth's, now St. 
 Benet Sherehog. The old name survives in " Size Lane," 
 and the odd name of Sherehog commemorates a citizen 
 named William Serehog, who was living in the year 
 1122, and probably rebuilt and rededicated the church of 
 St. Osyth. 
 
 With these exceptions, if they are exceptions, most 
 London churches belong to a period later than the 
 Conquest, and are evidence of the rapid increase in 
 wealth of the " barons " of the City, each one of whom, 
 when he had made for himself an estate, desired for 
 it a separate church ; and to this we may ascribe 
 confidently, first, the very small size of the churches 
 and parishes ; and, secondly, the number of personal 
 names used to distinguish the various dedications. 
 Though Allhallows and St. Mary " Staining v may be 
 references to the rare use of stone in building, as
 
 s/^ 

 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 125 
 
 St. Mary " le Bow " is to the use of arches, though St. 
 Mary "Woolnoth" and St. Mary " Woolchurch Haw" 
 refer to the woollen hithe and market, as St. Mary Bothaw 
 refers to a little harbour on the Wall brook, yet in such 
 names as St. Martin Orgar, St. John Zachary, St. 
 Katharine Coleman, St. Martin Outwich, St. Benet Fink — 
 now commemorated by Finch Lane — St. Nicholas Aeon, 
 St. Andrew Hubbard, St. Laurence Pountney, St. Margaret 
 Moses, St. Margaret Lothbury, St. Mary Montalt or 
 Mounthaw, St. Nicholas Olave, and others, we have the 
 founder or rebuilder indicated, and can, in a majority 
 of cases, ascertain when he lived. 
 
 It was in the eleventh century and the beginning of 
 the twelfth that church-building activity was at its height. 
 The cathedral of St. Paul ceased to be used by the 
 parishioners, for whom the dean and chapter provided 
 St. Faith's, St. Gregory's, and other small and compara- 
 tively late churches. They likewise accepted from various 
 citizens the charge of new churches. Orgar, probably 
 a goldsmith, near the beginning of the twelfth century, 
 gave them two, St. Martin Orgar and St. Botolph 
 Billingsgate. A priest named Daniel gave them St. 
 Edmund the King, in Lombard Street, on condition that 
 his son Ismael should have the living after him. Robert, 
 the son of Ralph, the son of Herlewin, gave them St. 
 Michael-le-Querne, which stood in the corn market where 
 Sir Robert Peel's statue is now. It would be tedious to 
 go through all the list. 
 
 We must remember that, owing to a variety of causes, 
 the old City churches were probably little better than 
 wooden sheds. A stone church was something remarkable. 
 The Norman arches under St. Mary-le-Bow, in Cheapside, 
 are still visible to the curious who obtain permission to 
 visit the vaults. But of all the relics of this period the
 
 126 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 noblest in the City is St. Bartholomew the Great. The 
 story of its founder, Rahere, has been often told. He may 
 have been a professional jester at the Court of Henry I., 
 or may, as the late Mr. Walcott thought, have been the 
 same Rahere who was a companion of Hereward, and 
 who " rescued four innocent persons from Norman execu- 
 tioners, who, owing to his ingenious disguise, mistook 
 him for a heron, an honourable nickname which continued 
 to cling to him through life." This curious and puzzling 
 passage I have extracted from a broad-sheet published 
 by the vicar, with a very pretty view of the churchyard 
 on the first page. It is part of a paper contributed to a 
 magazine by the late Precentor Walcott in 1864. If any 
 of my readers have studied ecclesiastical archaeology they 
 will know how cautiously we should accept Mr. Walcott's 
 authority ; and indeed this very paper contains a passage 
 calculated to shake our belief in it, for in speaking of 
 Smithfield as the scene of Wat Tyler's death he says, " here 
 Sir W. Walworth won the distinctive dagger which figures 
 in the City arms." As there is no dagger in the City 
 arms, though possibly Mr. Walcott thought the sword of 
 St. Paul was a dagger, this statement is not calculated to 
 reassure us. 
 
 However, we may follow Mr. Walcott's account of 
 St. Bartholomew's and its founder in certain particulars. 
 Rahere " is said to have led a sinful life as a young man 
 at Court : on his earnest repentance he went upon a pil- 
 grimage to Rome ; and on his return, in a dream he saw 
 St. Bartholomew direct him to found a church in his name 
 on the present site." This is the received account. There 
 is reason, however, to believe that either on this site or 
 that of St. Bartholomew the Less a parish church already 
 stood, and an early tradition, which indeed Mr. Walcott 
 mentions (and of which full particulars may be found in
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 127 
 
 Malcolm's " Londinum Redivivum"), connects with it 
 the name of Edward the Confessor. How far Rahere was 
 concerned with the hospital I do not know, but probably 
 at first the interests of the priory and the hospital were 
 more intimately connected than they afterwards became. 
 As their separate wealth increased, their independence 
 increased, and latterly the prior had little to do with the 
 hospital except to control the election of a master. Mean- 
 while the parishioners used an aisle of the nave of the 
 canons' church, and at the Dissolution received the choir 
 itself instead of their former place of worship, which had 
 become ruinous. The hospital shared the fate of the 
 priory, but towards the end of the life of Henry VIII. it 
 was re-granted to the citizens, and became what it still is. 
 The hospital chapel became the church of a parish which 
 comprises only the hospital itself within its boundaries. 
 
 The modern visitor has to exercise what may be called 
 his " historical imagination " if he would picture to himself 
 St. Bartholomew the Great in the fifteenth century. He 
 stands facing the narrow Early English archway, which 
 now admits him to the churchyard, and which before the 
 Dissolution would have admitted him to the south aisle 
 of the nave. Facing him there would have been probably 
 three tall gables of the same style. To his right a narrow 
 street, Duck Lane (now Duke Street), flanked on one side 
 by the hospital wall and on the other by the conventual 
 buildings, would have run up to the City wall. Behind 
 him would be the wide, grassless expanse of Smithneld, 
 decorated near its further margin with an old gibbet or 
 two, and close by, opposite the main entrance of the nave, 
 with a tall, half-charred post and chain, surrounded, 
 according to the season, with white wood ashes or with 
 black mud. Of the buildings forming the square on the 
 west and north sides, none would be tall enough to hide
 
 128 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 the view of the Charterhouse beyond, and, still further 
 in the background, the nunnery of Clerkenwell and the 
 great house, a small town in itself, of the Hospitallers of 
 the oi'der of St. John. Far away on the green wooded 
 hills in the distance, beyond the river Fleet and the Hole- 
 burn, would have been the tower recently built by Prior 
 Bolton to mark conspicuously his country house at Canon- 
 bury ; the tower is standing yet (p. 234). 
 
 Prior Bolton put the same punning device, of which 
 he was evidently very proud, on the side of his tower 
 and on the front of his oriel window within the church. 
 There is a similar window in Westminster Abbey, near 
 the western end. It is of dark oak, and may be approached 
 from what is now the Deanery ; and from it, without 
 leaving his own chambers, the Lord Abbot could see mass 
 performed below him in what is now the baptistery. 
 Prior Bolton's window at St. Bartholomew's is more 
 ambitious. It is of stone, and looks into the choir of the 
 church, filling up one of the old Norman triforium arches. 
 The prior's house from which it opened is gone, but the 
 window serves to identify its site for us. On a panel in 
 front is carved the " Bolt in Tun," an arrow transfixing 
 a barrel, which I mentioned above. There was another 
 prior after Bolton— Trafford, who surrendered the house 
 to Henry's commissioners, and the site was granted to 
 Sir Richard (afterwards Lord) Rich, the ancestor of the 
 Earls of Holland. The advowson of the church con- 
 tinued in the hands of his descendants until a compara- 
 tively recent period, but now belongs to a private gentle- 
 man. Queen Mary for a short time interrupted Rich's 
 tenure by giving the house to the returned Black Friars, 
 but their occupation did not last long ; and Rich, to make 
 sure and stablish his position, took out a new grant from 
 Queen Elizabeth. It was under his auspices, no doubt,
 
 < 
 
 LU 
 
 or 
 o 
 
 LU 
 
 I 
 
 H 
 
 LU 
 
 o 
 I 
 \- 
 
 < 
 
 m 
 
 \- 
 in 
 
 LL 
 
 O 
 
 H 
 0. 
 
 > 
 
 en 
 o
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 129 
 
 that the nave and the parish church were pulled down ; 
 and even the choir, which he left to the parishioners, 
 was intruded upon. A warehouse or something of the 
 kind long occupied the east end of the triforium, and 
 necessitated the use of iron pillars on either side of the 
 communion table. 
 
 The tomb of Rahere bears the impress of Prior Bolton's 
 hand, being in a style many centuries later than that of 
 the massive Norman piers and arches which surround 
 it. To see these well and judge of their picturesque effect, 
 it will be necessary to walk round behind the altar, where 
 an arrangement will be found of which the only parallel 
 now remaining in London is that afforded by the chapel 
 of St. John in the Tower. St. Bartholomew's, being on 
 a much larger scale and of a slightly later period, is finer, 
 except for the destruction (now repaired) of a part of the 
 vaulting by the intrusion above mentioned. 
 
 There are several fine monuments of a later date than 
 that of Rahere. The largest is in the south aisle, and is 
 a very typical example of the style in vogue in the reign 
 of Queen Elizabeth. Sir Walter Mildmay, whom it 
 commemorates, was her Chancellor of the Exchequer. 
 There is a very singular but powerful piece of sculpture, 
 placed too high up to be seen well, as a memorial of Percival 
 Smallpace and Agnes Tebowld, his wife. It is dated 
 1588, one year before Mildmay 's monument, and consists 
 of the busts of the old couple : he with a double-pointed 
 beard, and she with a goodly and imposing ruff. 
 
 The south transept remained roofless and ruined 
 until the end of the nineteenth century, but it is now 
 very cleverly " restored." The old walls with their Nor- 
 man arches are gone. The present tower was built in 
 1628. Part of the cloister was long occupied as a stable. 
 " Can London," asks Malcolm, " boast such another stable ? 
 j
 
 130 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 I hope not ! " And he adds, writing in 1802, " Mr. 
 Wheeler keeps his cloister stable roof as clean as whitewash 
 will make it, and is very obliging." The cloister, I have 
 to note, was destroyed in 1833. 
 
 When Habere had succeeded in founding and peopling 
 his monastery, " he joined to him a certain old man, 
 Alfune by name, to whom was sad age and sadness of age, 
 with experience of long time. This same old man not 
 long before had builded the church of St. Giles at the gate 
 of the City that in the English tongue is called Cripplegate, 
 and that good work happily he had ended." So says the 
 writer of a curious manuscript life of Habere (Cott. MSS., 
 Vesp. B ix.) from which Malcolm givessome long extracts. 
 There are few parish churches in London of which the 
 history is so complete as is that of St. Giles, Cripplegate. 
 Alfune built it during the lifetime of Kahere, but it may 
 well be considerably older than St. Bartholomew's, for 
 the priory was founded in 1102, according to most 
 authorities, and in or soon after 1103 the church was no 
 longer in Alfune's hands. It was given by a deed — which 
 is witnessed by Reyner, who is known to have been an 
 archdeacon in that year and later — to the dean and chapter 
 of St. Paul's, subject to the incumbency of the donor, 
 Aelmund, and his son Hugh. This was a very common 
 arrangement at that period. Aelmund was probably 
 married, as it is believed most parish priests were at the 
 time. After the lapse of some 800 years the dean and 
 chapter of St. Paul's still hold the advowson which Ael- 
 mund gave them. The first event in the history of the 
 church must have occurred very soon after Aelmund 's 
 gift. Good Queen Matilda, the wife of Henry I., founded 
 in it a guild or brotherhood, called after St. Mary and 
 St. Giles ; and this must have been before 1118, for in 
 that year the Queen died.
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 131 
 
 The parish lies wholly without the wall, a great bastion 
 of which is in the spacious churchyard. By tracing the 
 parish boundaries on a map, the places of two other 
 bastions further south may be found, though the bastions 
 themselves are concealed or have disappeared. An unfor- 
 tunate guess of Stow connects the name with cripples 
 begging at the gate. But Crepul-geat, in Old English, 
 as I have said elsewhere, means a covered wav in a 
 fortification, and here a postern opened in the wall, and 
 the covered way communicated with the Barbican. 
 
 There is a noteworthy little point of historical 
 curiosity connected with this churchyard. In 10(32, 
 it being found that there was scarcely room for all 
 the dead, a piece of ground was taken on lease from the 
 City to add to the cemetery. It is described as " near 
 Crowder's Well." This was a spring of water which was 
 exceedingly popular, not only with the parishioners, but 
 also with strangers, as it was believed to be particularly 
 good for ophthalmia, and also that " the use of it would 
 restore an intoxicated person to his senses sooner than 
 any other." The parish boasted of another spring near 
 the ditch of the City wall, which was arched over for them 
 by Whittington, and had other sources of supply, such as a 
 pipe or conduit from Highbury. " Hence we find," says 
 one writer, without the slightest inkling of the real mean- 
 ing of his words—" Hence we find the parish was well 
 supplied with that excellent element many years previous 
 to Sir Hugh Middleton's memorable work." He then 
 goes on to describe the frightful ravages of the plague 
 in 1603, when even the clerk died, and the number of 
 interments was such that the extensive churchyard was 
 raised two feet. It does not seem to have occurred to 
 anyone to connect the shocking death-rate with the use 
 of the well in the churchyard or that in the City ditch.
 
 
 132 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 The old Norman church of Alfune and Aelmund has 
 long disappeared. The church, whatever it was then, 
 was entirely destroyed by fire in 1545, and the present 
 building is mainly as it was afterwards restored. Still, 
 it is in what Pugin used to call " the Gothic or Christian 
 Pointed style," large, wide, and light, without much beauty 
 of form or detail, but convenient and airy. It consists of a 
 nave with narrow side aisles, and has not suffered very 
 materially from the ruthless hands of modern " restorers." 
 Between the church and the street there is a curious 
 old building, the parish " Guest House," where the ward 
 inquest used to be held, and where now the parochial 
 charities are managed. It contains some handsome 
 plate, among the articles being two or three silver cups, 
 with such inscriptions as this : " The Fyne of Peter 
 Phillips for being Released from being Scavenger, 1612." 
 Evidently the jurymen, " in merry pin," sometimes elected 
 a wealthy fellow-citizen to the unpleasant office in order 
 to obtain a cup from him. The parish beadle's staff is 
 decorated with a model in silver of old Cripplegate, with a 
 wooden-legged cripple, hat in hand, walking through 
 the archway. It was given Iw Sir Benjamin Maddox, 
 who is commemorated at the West End by Maddox Street, 
 Hanover Square, which covers part of a suburban farm 
 which he owned. The Guest House is about to be pulled 
 down. 
 
 In the church of St. Giles are interred the remains 
 of John Milton, the poet, and of John Milton, the 
 scrivener, his father. Their grave is " in the upper end 
 of the chancel, at the right hand," and therefore not very 
 near the conspicuous monument in the south aisle which 
 was put up in 1793 by Samuel Whit bread. 
 
 There are several other monuments of interest, and 
 one, which represents Constance Whitney rising in her
 
 ^0»* Vn* 
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 133 
 
 winding-sheet from the grave at the Day of Judgment, in a 
 very realistic style, has been made the subject of a curious 
 local story, which Mr. Woodthorpe attributed to Daniel 
 Defoe (who was an inhabitant of the parish), and which 
 is one of the best known of all graveyard and sepulchral 
 legends. The lady was said to have fallen into a death- 
 like trance, and to have been buried. The grave-digger, 
 the night after the funeral, hid himself in the church, 
 opened the vault, and to obtain some valuable rings which 
 were on the hand of the supposed corpse, proceeded to 
 cut off one of its fingers. How far he had succeeded 
 in this operation we are not told ; but the bleeding, it is 
 said, restored the lady to life, and she was able to rise and 
 walk home, to the astonishment, let us hope to the joy, 
 of her husband and servants. The story is so circum- 
 stantial, and contains at the same time so many improba- 
 bilities, that it has all the appearance of a work of Defoe, 
 whose fictitious diary of the Great Plague has been often 
 received as true. Constance Whitney has, however, 
 a more substantial claim on our attention, for she was 
 the granddaughter of Sir Thomas Lucy, of Charlecote, 
 whom Shakespeare has immortalised as Justice Shallow. 
 She died at the age of seventeen, as an affecting epitaph 
 records. Her aunt, Margaret Lucy, is also buried in 
 the church. 
 
 The celebrated Lancelot Andrewes was at one time 
 vicar of St. Giles's, and some of the monumental inscrip- 
 tions are attributed to him. , If the attribution is 
 correct he was no poet. Of Charles Langley, who died 
 in 1602, we read, for instance, after a description of his 
 charities in life : 
 
 < 
 
 
 " And when he died he gave his mite, 
 AH that did him befall,
 
 134 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 For ever once a Yeere to' cloath 
 
 St. Giles his poore withall. 
 All Saints he pointed for the day, 
 
 Gownes twenty ready made, 
 With twenty shirts and twenty smocks, 
 
 As they may best he had." 
 
 This doggrel, and more like it, is actually signed by 
 Andrewes. There are monuments in the church to 
 Foxe, who wrote the " Book of Martyrs " ; to Speed, the 
 historian ; and to the bold mariner, Martin Frobisher, 
 all of whom are buried here. The register contains some 
 interesting entries. Among them is the marriage of 
 Oliver Cromwell and Elizabeth Boucher, August 22, 
 1620. The burial of Daniel Defoe in the Bunhill Fields 
 cemetery is thus recorded : " 1731, April 26, Mr. Dubow, 
 Cripplegate." 
 
 Although St. Giles's Church has many interesting 
 memorials, it is to St. Helen's, Bishopsgate, that the late 
 Dean Stanley gave the title of " the Westminster Abbey 
 of the City." It contains a grerter number of handsome 
 tombs than St; Giles's, but the persons commemorated 
 are not so eminent. There is no Milton, no Foxe, no 
 Defoe at St. Helen's. But those who are buried in the 
 church had a considerably greater idea of their own im- 
 portance than the poor literary men upon whom probably 
 they would have looked down. The monuments which 
 belong to St. Helen's were largely recruited in 1877, 
 when the neighbouring church of St. Martin Outwich 
 was removed, and the dead men's bones were carted away 
 to Ilford. 
 
 The church, like so many others, belonged early to 
 St. Paul's. It was given to the dean and chapter by 
 Ranulph, a canon, and Robert, his son, about the year 
 1148, on condition that the anniversary of Archbishop
 
 _l 
 < 
 I 
 
 cc 
 
 uj 
 
 _i 
 _i 
 
 UJ 
 
 w 
 
 DC 
 UJ 
 
 I 
 
 I- _ 
 
 < X? 
 
 UJ g 
 
 _J 00 
 
 o 
 
 a. 
 
 z 
 < 
 
 i 
 o 
 
 CC 
 
 D 
 I 
 O 
 
 ID 
 
 z 
 
 UJ 
 
 _l 
 
 UJ 
 
 I 

 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 135 
 
 Thurstan of York — who, by the way, had been himself a 
 canon, and was, presumably, a friend as well as an ecclesi- 
 astical brother of Ranulph— should be kept in the church 
 for ever. Either Ranulph himself or some previous 
 member of his family must have built and endowed the 
 church, which belongs, therefore, to the great church- 
 building epoch that followed the fire of 1136. 
 
 The priory of St. Helen stood on the north side of the 
 church, where is now St. Helen's Place. The north aisle 
 of the church was the priory chapel, and being at the 
 Dissolution left unoccupied, was speedily almost filled 
 with the great tombs which we see in it now. But the 
 nuns seem sometimes to have worshipped, as Prior Bolton 
 worshipped from his oriel at St. Bartholomew's, without 
 coming into church, as they had in the south wall of 
 their cloister a traceried opening, which looked, from 
 within the church, like an altar-tomb, as well as an ordinary 
 window. As the cloister was at a lower level than the 
 church, the opening, which in the church is close to the 
 floor, must, at the other side of the wall, have been at a 
 most convenient height. The old doorway remains 
 at the foot of a short flight of steps. The priory was 
 founded about the year 1212, and was more or less under 
 the control of the Dean of St. Paul's, who seems to have 
 had constant trouble with the nuns and their prioress. 
 Dugdale and other historians give summaries of the 
 regulations made by successive deans, but apparently 
 in vain. A series of injunctions, issued in the fifteenth 
 century, and discovered by Mr. Maxwell Lyte among 
 the archives of St. Paul's, desired the nuns to sing fully 
 and distinctly at divine service, and not so fast as hitherto, 
 but with the proper pauses ; and orders them to refrain 
 from kissing secular persons. Further, they are en- 
 joined to wear their veils according to the rules of their
 
 136 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 order — not too sumptuous in character ; and the prioress 
 is ordered to keep not more than one or two dogs, and 
 is forbidden to receive guests at table or elsewhere. 
 
 There used to be a belfry tower over the entrance to 
 Great St. Helen's from Bishopsgate, but it was taken 
 down in 1696. Nevertheless, the visitor who enters 
 now cannot fail to be struck with the aspect of the place. 
 The houses which surround the churchyard present a 
 specimen of almost every style, and the church contains 
 examples quite as various. Crosby Hall is Gothic, and 
 some of the houses adjoining it are quite worthy of Sir 
 Christopher Wren. One, now pulled down, dated 1606, 
 looked, with its brick pilasters, very like the work of Inigo 
 Jones, but was too early. The almshouses of Sir Andrew 
 Jud, on the north side, are devoid of beauty, but are 
 very characteristic of the year 1729, in winch they were 
 rebuilt. The south entrance of the church is an exceed- 
 ingly picturesque example of the style in vogue in 1633, 
 and is attributed with less doubt to Inigo Jones. How 
 it and the beautiful porches within have escaped 
 " restoration " I cannot imagine. When we enter the 
 church we are almost confused by the number and 
 magnificence of the sepulchral monuments. The most 
 beautiful is to the north of the communion-table, close to 
 the altar-tomb of Sir Thomas Gresham. It shows Sir 
 William Pickering, a handsome Elizabethan knight, lying 
 in full armour under a canopy of excellent design, supported 
 by marble pillars. 
 
 The most curious monument is behind the organ in 
 a kind of south transept. It was erected by Lady Caesar 
 to the memory of her husband, Sir Julius Caesar, and 
 cost her the large sum of £110, equal to fully £1,000 now. 
 Nicholas Stone was the sculptor. On a great slab of 
 black marble is what looks like a parchment deed inlaid
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 137 
 
 in white marble, with a signature, and below a seal and 
 an attesting document. The inscription imitates the 
 lawyers' writing of the day, and is in Latin. In it Sir 
 Julius Caesar, otherwise Delmare, promises : " I will 
 cheerfully pay the debt I owe to Nature whenever it shall 
 please God to appoint it." This oddly named knight 
 was of Italian descent, his father having been a physician 
 who came over to attend Queen Mary, and remained 
 with Queen Elizabeth. The son was born at Tottenham 
 in 1557, and, boasting through his mother of descent 
 from the ducal family of Cesarini, he dropped his father's 
 name of Adelmare, or Delmare, and called himself Caesar. 
 He rose to eminence as a lawyer, and was Chancellor 
 of the Exchequer under Cecil. His brother was Dean 
 of Ely and has a beautiful monument in the Cathedral. 
 
 In a chapel at a slightly lower level, to the eastward, 
 are some brasses, one of them, which is raised on a stone 
 base, being particularly interesting, as it represents a 
 lady covered with a mantle, on which a coat of arms is 
 emblazoned. Two altar tombs bear each a pair of stone 
 effigies of the fourteenth or fifteenth century. They 
 came from St. Martin's, and are believed to represent 
 members of the Outwich or Oteswich family. In the 
 nuns' aisle are two very handsome canopied G othic tombs, 
 which were formerly decorated with brasses. They 
 came also from St. Martin's, and belong respectively to 
 families named Clitherow (14G9) and Pemberton (1500). 
 The Clitherows succeeded the prioress of St. Helen's at 
 Boston House, her manor near Brentford, and their 
 descendants hold it still. Opposite, on the south wall of 
 the church, is a very handsome monument, gorgeous with 
 colours and gilding. It represents Richard Staper, alder- 
 man of this ward of Bishopsgate Within, and his wife and 
 eight children. He died in 1008, and is described in his
 
 138 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 epitaph as " the greatest merchant in his tyme." This 
 also came from St. Martin's. 
 
 It would be impossible to go through even a tithe of 
 the monuments in St. Helen's ; but we must pause a 
 moment to look at Sir John Spencer, who, in Queen 
 Elizabeth's time, occupied Crosby's old house, and also 
 Prior Bolton's villa at Canonbury. He and his wife 
 lie in great state on the tomb, and before them kneels 
 their daughter and sole heiress, the wife of Lord Compton, 
 and ancestress of the earls and marquises of Northamp- 
 ton (p. 235). Among other eminent people buried in St. 
 Helen's I must also mention Spencer Compton, the godson 
 of Sir John, who was killed at Hopton Heath in 1643 ; 
 Kichard Williams, paternal great-grandfather of Oliver 
 Cromwell, who died in 1546 ; Sir Andrew Jud, who was 
 Lord Mayor during Wyatt's rebellion, and died in 1558 ; 
 and Sir John Crosby himself. 
 
 I have mentioned St. Ethelburga's as a very ancient 
 church. It is situated just within the site of Bishop's Gate, 
 and unlike its near neighbour, St. Helen's, it is always 
 open. Why St. Helen's, with its wealth of monuments, 
 should always be kept locked except during service-time 
 is " one of those things no fellow can understand." At 
 St. Ethelburga's the quiet little church invites the passer-by 
 to enter and pray, or rest, or admire the solitary bit of 
 First Pointed or Early English architecture left in the 
 City, with the doubtful exceptions of the Lady Chapel in 
 South wark and the Temple Church, both of which are so 
 thoroughly restored that they belong not to the thirteenth 
 century, but to the nineteenth, and are worthless as archi- 
 tectural examples. St. Ethelburga's is not, and probably 
 never was, a handsome church ; but it is venerable and 
 curious. I know nothing of its history. It may have 
 been founded by King Alfred himself. It may belong
 
 Photo : Cassell &. Ci 
 
 ST ETHELBURGA BISHOPSGATE.

 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 139 
 
 to the same category as St. Giles's and St. Helen's, and 
 have been founded after the great fire of 1130. This is 
 the safest theory, if a theory is necessary. The parish is 
 chiefly situated at the other or western side of the street, 
 and lies wholly within the line of the wall. The advowson 
 was long part of the property of the prioress of St. Helen's, 
 and was granted by Queen Elizabeth to the Bishop of 
 London. The curiously mean entrance, the lancet 
 windows, half built up, the minute dimensions of the 
 church, which is only fifty-four feet long and about half 
 that in width, and, above all, the comparatively genuine 
 and unsophisticated state of the ancient fabric, make 
 this one of the most interesting of London churches, even 
 though it contains no magnificent monuments, and is 
 connected, it is my duty to note, with the names of no 
 illustrious men. 
 
 The porch passing under or through a private house 
 is very characteristic of an old London church. We see 
 the same or similar arrangements at Allhallows, Lombard 
 Street, at St. Katharine Coleman, at St. Helen's, Bishops- 
 gate, and at St. Bartholomew's. A gate formerly existed 
 at Allhallows, Barking, St. Peter's, Cornhill, St. Andrew 
 TJndershaft, St. Mary-le-Bow, and a great many other 
 places. It seems to point to the original foundation of 
 these churches as more or less private chapels. It is on 
 record that before the fire several parish churches— notably 
 St. Mary Colechurch and St. Mary Mounthaw— were 
 over the gateways of great mansions. Churches over 
 gates are very common in old towns, but they are generally 
 over town gates, as at Bristol, not over the entrances of 
 private houses. Two, I think, are over precinct gates 
 at Winchester. It will not do to press the point too far, 
 but it is well worth marking ; and it certainly goes to 
 strengthen the view I have ventured to put forward above
 
 140 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 as to the number and smallness of London churches, and 
 the probability that a majority of them were of private 
 foundation and not of very great antiquity. 
 
 There is a curious little labyrinth of narrow streets 
 and alleys of old-fashioned houses between the churchyard 
 of St. Helen's, Bishopsgate, and St. Mary Axe. There 
 have been great alterations going on in the district of late 
 years, but on the whole they have brought the ancient 
 church of St. Andrew more into view. The street of St. 
 Mary Axe was formerly called St. Mary at Axe, and that 
 implement is supposed to have figured on a neighbouring 
 signboard. A church of St. Mary stood on the west side 
 of the street until the reign of Queen Elizabeth, when 
 it was pulled down, and the parish united with that of St. 
 Andrew Undershaft. 
 
 It is not very easy to reconcile conflicting calculations, 
 but if we are not greatly mistaken St. Andrew's used to 
 stand on the highest ground in the City, being, in fact, on 
 the summit of the Cornhill. A place in Cannon Street 
 is now said to be higher. In ancient times there was no 
 distinction between Cornhill and Leadenhall Street, and 
 the church was St. Andrew upon Cornhill. It obtained 
 its present name from the street in front of it being the 
 place selected for the annual raising of a May-pole. We 
 are told that the shaft was taller than the steeple, but 
 we cannot argue from this as to its height, because the 
 steeple was rebuilt after the May-pole had been disused 
 for some vears. The street must have been much wider 
 than it is at present at this point, or else the market-place 
 of Leadenhall was more open. In the beginning of the 
 reign of Henry VIII. the celebration of May-day upon 
 Cornhill came to a sudden end. A riot against foreigners 
 grew to such proportions that more than four hundred 
 people, including a number of women, were arrested and
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 141 
 
 brought before the young King at Westminster. He 
 pardoned all but thirteen, who were hanged, but the May- 
 pole and the celebration of May-day in the City were dis- 
 credited, ami the shaft itself wax hung on a range of hooks 
 under the eaves of a neighbouring row of houses, the 
 situation of which is probably marked by Shaft Alley. 
 For two-and-thirty years, from 1517 to 1549, it remained 
 there unmolested, but in the latter year " Sir Sampson," 
 curate of the neighbouring parish church of St. Katharine 
 Cree, preached a sermon at St. Paul's Cross, in which 
 he denounced the popular rites and ceremonies of May- 
 day as heathenish and idolatrous, and so worked upon 
 the feelings of his audience by the vigour of his eloquence 
 that they attacked the old shaft with their knives and 
 whittled it all away. 
 
 The present church dates only from 1520. It is 
 uniformly built in late Perpendicular, and has within 
 a surprisingly spacious appearance. In the north, aisle, 
 at the east end, is a monument which of itself would be 
 sufficient to make the church a place of pilgrimage. John 
 Stow, the historian of London, occupies a unique position 
 among the authors of the great Elizabethan age. Little, 
 indeed, should w r e know of the appearance of London 
 before the fire w r ere it not for his descriptions. He was able 
 at a time when any legend, however wild, an)' tradition, 
 however garbled, did duty for history, to go to original 
 documents and to weigh facts for himself. In reading his 
 book one has to remember, as I have hinted on an earlier 
 page, that his guesses are as erroneous as those of any of 
 his contemporaries ; but when he quotes an ancient docu- 
 ment, or narrates a fact of his own knowledge, he may be 
 depended upon as absolutely accurate. In forming an idea 
 of this very spot we may see how Stow's account brings it 
 before our eyes. I quote from the first edition(1599,p. 105).
 
 142 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Speaking of the Priory at Aldgate he says : " These Priors 
 have sitten and. ridden amongst the Aldermen of London, 
 in livery like unto them, saving that his habite was in 
 shape of a spirituall person, as I myself have seene in my 
 childhood : at which time the Prior kept a most bountifull 
 house of meate and drinke both for rich and poore, as 
 well within the house as at the gates to all comers accord- 
 ing to their estates." 
 
 One sentence like this transports us back beyond 
 the Reformation, and tells us more of the life of old London 
 than whole chapters written now can do. It is distressing 
 to know that Stow's bones were not suffered to rest in 
 peace where the loving hands of his wife had laid them. 
 In 1*732 they were removed to make way for the body 
 of some citizen who was doubtless a personage of more 
 importance in the eyes of his contemporaries. But 
 the monument remains in its place. If Stow was so 
 poor before his death that he had a licence from James I. 
 to beg in London and Westminster, it is strange that so 
 beautiful and costly a tomb should have been erected. 
 Either his widow spent all her substance on it, or, what 
 is not improbable, his works began, after his death, to 
 bring in some money. " A Survay of London, Contayning 
 the Originall, Antiquity, Increase, Moderne estate, and 
 description of that Citie, written in the yeare 1598 by 
 John Stow, Citizen of London," had only been published 
 when he was seventy-four, and he died at the age of eighty 
 in 1605. The figure is of alabaster. The historian 
 is represented as sitting with a book on his knee, in which 
 he writes, a " practicable " goose quill being from time 
 to time renewed. Over his head are the arms of the 
 Merchant Taylors, the City company to which he belonged. 
 In the recess on either side of him is a closed and clasped 
 book, as if to denote that he is represented as he sat in his
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 143 
 
 study. Altogether, if this was only the monument of some 
 private individual, it would still be worthy of notice for 
 the quiet dignity of the design. I wish I could add 
 that we know the name of the artist who made it. 
 
 The church of St. Katharine, a little further east in 
 the same street, is a building of double interest. It forms 
 a link between the old Gothic and the later Classical or 
 Palladian styles. In addition, its connection with the 
 history of a very remarkable man, William Laud, beheaded 
 on Tower Hill on January 10, 1645, Mould be enough to 
 call our attention to it. The curious mixture of styles, all 
 the parts, however incongruous, being good in themselves, 
 imparts to the interior, in a higher degree than any other 
 city church, that kind of picturesqueness which we call 
 quaintness. The visitor sees at once on entering that, 
 though some modern Goth has been at work upon it, 
 though the old woodwork has been destroyed, and though 
 the stained glass is of unusual ugliness, a master in art 
 designed the church, a man who could accept what 
 was best in both styles, and weld them together into one 
 harmonious whole. There was only one man in England 
 when the church was built who could have done this, and 
 skilled opinion almost universally assigns St. Katharine's 
 to Inigo Jones, Mr. Reginald Blomfield standing almost 
 alone in doubting it. 
 
 Before proceeding, we may glance at the previous 
 history of St. Katharine's. Stow, in his original edition, 
 gives a short account of the old structure, which seems 
 to have been of the meanest character. The tower, 
 still standing, " hath beene lately builded, to witte, about 
 the yeare 1504, for Sir John Percivall, Marchant Taylor, 
 then deceasing, gave money towards the building thereof." 
 In a later edition, Stow, or Strype for him, states that 
 it was built "at the motion of the Lord Richard de
 
 144 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Gravesend, bishop of London, who presided from the 
 year 1280 to 1303." This is very likely. The Canons 
 of Christ Church, or the Holy Trinity, from which St. 
 Katharine, Christ Church, vulgarly St. Katharine Cree, 
 took the name, did not care for the presence of the 
 parishioners in their own church. And just as, for a 
 similar reason, the Canons of St. Paul's built St. Gregory 
 and St. Faith, and probably other churches, to relieve 
 themselves of the people, so the proud monks of Aldgate 
 went to the trouble and expense of providing a church 
 in which then' neighbours might worship without in- 
 truding on the sacred precincts of the monastery. One 
 of the Canons— they were of the Augustinian or Austin 
 order — officiated until 1414, when a disagreement occurred, 
 and the church became independent. 
 
 Henry VIII. gave the house and church of the Canons 
 to Thomas Lord Audley. Stow describes vividly the 
 trouble and expense Audley was put to in removing the 
 church of the priory. It must have been a very noble 
 building, but does not immediately concern us, except 
 as showing that in his time, and that of his son-in-law 
 the Duke of Norfolk, there was no parish church between 
 St. Katharine and Aldgate. Lord Audley gave the 
 advowson to Magdalene College, Cambridge, and that 
 college is still the patron. A fact, if it is a fact, of great 
 interest relates to the old church. It has often been 
 asserted that Hans Holbein died in the house of the Duke 
 of Norfolk. This assertion was made in the days when Hol- 
 bein's death was supposed to have taken place about 1555. 
 But since the discovery of his will, it is known that he 
 died in November, 1543. At that time Lord Audley 
 was still alive. Mr. Wheatley remarks on the unlikeli- 
 ness that if Holbein died in his own house in St. Andrew 
 Undershaft he was buried in St. Katharine. But here
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 145 
 
 the second tradition comes to our help. If he died in the 
 Duke of Norfolk's house, he would be buried in the church 
 or cemetery of the parish — namely, of St. Katharine. 
 If he died of the plague, as is asserted by another tradition, 
 confirmed by the hasty character of the will, his own 
 parish might not have claimed his body. St. Andrew's 
 is further from Aldgate than St. Katharine's. A glance 
 at the map shows this, and a reference to Stow's edition 
 of 1633 proves that St. Katharine's actually stands in the 
 old cemetery of the Canons. The tradition mentioned 
 by Strype is therefore not only probably, but almost 
 certainly, true. It is not, says Mr. Wheatley, likely that 
 his body would " be carried, at such a season, to another 
 parish for burial." Precisely so. In 1863, Sir Wollaston 
 Franks, commenting in ArcJuvologia (xxxix., p. 1) on 
 Holbein's will, which had then just been unexpectedly 
 discovered, mentions that Holbein had a house in St. 
 Andrew Undershaft. Whether he lived there or not, 
 we do not know; probably not, as he had no family in 
 England, his two illegitimate children being out at nurse. 
 But if he died in Lord Audley's house while staying there 
 engaged in his art, he would certainly have been buried, 
 not in what we may for the moment call his own parish, 
 but in the parish in which Audley House stood, namely, 
 that of St. Katharine. 
 
 This view disposes of another difficulty. Sir Wollaston 
 Franks says that Vertue surmised that Holbein died in 
 the Duke's house, and adds that Walpole shows this to have 
 been an error, as the priory did not come into the Duke 
 of Norfolk's possession till 1558. But it is not really any 
 objection, for, according to what was known in Vertue's 
 day, Holbein died in or about 1555. Lord Audley died 
 in 1544, only six months after Holbein, and the house 
 went to the Duchess of Norfolk and her younger sister,
 
 146 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 who never married. Vertue's surmise and Walpole's 
 correction are therefore not incompatible. The date, 
 1558, for the Duke's coming into possession does not 
 specially concern us. His Duchess died in 1563, and the 
 date is perhaps that of his coming into sole possession 
 by the death of the Duchess's sister. But the difficulty 
 that Holbein cannot have been buried in St. Katharine's 
 if he died in the house owned first by Lord Audley and 
 afterwards by the Duke, falls to pieces. He gives no 
 directions in his will as to where he would be buried. 
 Otherwise, he might have wished his interment to be in 
 the parish where he had his estate. We have at any 
 rate shown that all the difficulties in Strype's story are dis- 
 sipated on examination, and very little more would establish 
 the truth of the view put forward above. Its very un- 
 likeliness is a point in its favour. 
 
 The level has been raised some 15 feet. Stow men- 
 tions that men were " fain to descend into the church 
 by divers steps, seven in number." A column of the old 
 building, more than half buried, is preserved in the present 
 church. A cloister, or part of one, belonging to the 
 priory, stood on the north side. It must have been very 
 small, as it was only 7 feet wide. As this was taken 
 into the church at Laud's rebuilding, and as the present 
 breadth, including side aisles, is only 51 feet, we gather 
 that the old St. Katharine's was very small indeed. Yet 
 this in old times was the favourite scene of " miracle 
 plays "; and in Godwin and Britton's " Churches of London" 
 there is a long dissertation on the subject. Altogether, 
 with the May-pole at St. Andrew Undershaft, and the 
 " enterludes " at Easter in St. Katharine's, Cornhill must 
 have been a lively part of the City in the fifteenth centuiy. 
 
 In 1624, however, the church was partially ruined. 
 The parishioners petitioned Magdalene College to rebuild
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 147 
 
 the chancel. Nothing seems, however, to have been 
 done till Laud, then recently appointed Bishop of London, 
 took the matter in hand. He had probably already 
 enjoyed some experience of the powers of Inigo Jones. 
 Part of St. John's College, at Oxford, was designed, it is 
 universally believed, by Jones for Laud — Mr. Blomfield 
 again dissenting — and there is certainly no garden front in 
 the University more beautiful. The Gothic oriels, with their 
 Italian details and their delicate proportions, are beyond 
 praise. The Bishop may have thought of another thing. 
 He wanted, not a preaching house, but a place for the 
 celebration of the Mass, or something very like it. He 
 could therefore employ Inigo, who was a Romanist, with 
 the more confidence. The problem was complicated by the 
 intended inclusion of the priory cloister, which was not 
 parallel with the church, and a visitor can see the result. 
 Wren had in many of his churches a similar difficulty, and 
 he followed closely the- example set by Jones. The wall 
 of the north aisle is not parallel with the arcade of the 
 nave, being narrower at the eastern than at the western 
 end. We see, too, how far westward the cloister site ex- 
 tended, for a piece of blank wall set in several feet marks 
 the place. The windows are cottage-headed, except that 
 the central light in each is higher than the side lights. 
 The exterior has few other features of interest. 
 
 The interior is most satisfactory— I had almost written 
 satisfying. The effect is magical. It is difficult to re- 
 member the smallness of the whole building. It is only 
 90 feet long and 37 feet high. The nave — there is no 
 chancel— has five arches at either side, supported by 
 beautiful columns of a very free rendering of the accepted 
 form of the composite style. The soffits of the arches 
 are flat, but coffered into deep panels of floral ornament. 
 Above the arches there is a lofty clerestory with pilasters,
 
 148 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 from which the groining of the nearly flat roof rises. The 
 pillars of the nave are rather too tall for their width, 
 Inigo thinking, no doubt, that the oakwork of the pews 
 would conceal the lower portion. When an architect 
 was employed some twenty years ago to " restore " the 
 church, he could not understand this, and Inigo's design 
 suffers accordingly. A fine square-headed window com- 
 pletes the view eastward. The upper half contains the 
 wheel tracery appropriate to St. Katharine. Below are 
 five panels, which have cusped heads and a very Gothic 
 look, but the arches are round. The wheel part of the 
 window contains some fairry harmonious glass of the last 
 century ; but the lower panels, which formerly showed 
 the arms of George I., have been " restored " into some- 
 thing invisible to the naked eye, except for the discordance 
 of the colour. It is said to contain a reference to the 
 annual " flower sermon " ; but it may, for aught we can 
 see, be a picture of Alderman Gayer and the lion, in allusion 
 to the Lion Sermon preached every year on October 16. 
 
 When the building was complete (January 16, 1631), 
 Bishop Laud consecrated it with ceremonies which Prynne 
 remembered against him fourteen years later. These 
 ceremonies, innocent enough in themselves, offended 
 the Puritan party beyond hope of forgiveness. When 
 Laud came to the door he prostrated himself, sajnng, 
 " This place is holy." He then went to the altar, casting 
 dust from the floor into the air. A procession round 
 the church followed, while these psalms were repeated : 
 the 100th and the 19th. 
 
 He then read out from a manuscript curses on anyone 
 who should profane the place, followed by blessings on 
 those who had helped the work. After his sermon, a 
 celebration was held, and the Bishop again offended the 
 delicate susceptibilities of the party which thirsted for,

 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 149 
 
 and eventually obtained, his blood. At the present day 
 many clergymen who cannot be even suspected of 
 ritualism use much the same forms. They were certainly, 
 as Malcolm shows (iii. 315), as unlike as possible to those 
 used by the Romanists. The only monument of im- 
 portance is that of Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, a minister 
 of Queen Elizabeth, which, as he died in 1570, must have 
 been removed from the old church. The visitor, unless 
 he is wedded to the so-called Gothic revival, will find this 
 a beautiful church, worthy of close study. It is one of 
 the few City churches that are nearly always open. The 
 doorway at the east end, in Leadenhall Street, which 
 formed the monument of William Avenon, 1630, was 
 lately removed to the cemetery, which can only be reached 
 through the church. No reason was ever assigned for 
 its removal, for we cannot easily believe that mere greed 
 was a motive. 
 
 On our way to the church of Allhallows, Barking, 
 we may turn into a little court off Fenchurch Street and 
 pass through the churchyard of Allhallows Staining, 
 emerging again in Mark Lane. Of the church itself 
 the very picturesque tower alone remains. 
 
 The history of Allhallows, Barking, affords atl east 
 one problem which I have so far found insoluble. Al- 
 though there can be no reasonable doubt that the church 
 was originally built and endowed by the great lady abbess 
 of Barking, yet the first circumstance that we have 
 of documentary history relating to it is a grant of 
 " Berkinchechirche," after the Norman Conquest, to the 
 church of Rochester. The date of this grant was after 
 the middle of the eleventh century and before the middle 
 of the twelfth, and it was made by a certain man named 
 Riculf, and Brichtwen, whom we may suppose to have 
 been his wife. Nevertheless, we find in the year 1387
 
 150 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 that the abbess had resumed her rights, and founded a 
 vicarage, to which she presented William Colles. The 
 question is, how did Riculf become possessed of Barking 
 Church, and how did the abbess get it back from 
 Rochester Cathedral ? 
 
 It would be easy to write, as Mr. Maskell has done, 
 a whole volume on the history of this most interesting 
 church, but for our present purpose it will be sufficient 
 to call attention to the massive Norman piers in the nave, 
 to the beautifully coloured iron brackets of the seven- 
 teenth century, which are provided in this and several 
 other churches for the support of the Lord Mayor's sword 
 and mace when he visits the church in state, and to the 
 unusually large number of fine monuments, and especially 
 of brasses, one of which, handsomely restored, represents 
 " Mr. William Thynne, Esquire," Henry VIII.'s cook, 
 who died in 1546. It is engraved on both sides, or, to 
 use the correct term, is " palimpsest." In this church 
 were buried the headless bodies of the Earl of Surrey, 
 Bishop Fisher, and Archbishop Laud, to the last of whom, 
 as I have said, we owe St. Katharine Cree ; but all were 
 subsequently removed. The Great Fire of 16G6 burnt 
 the porch of Allhallows, but spared the church. 
 
 St. Olave's, Hart Street, also escaped the Great 
 Fire. It has manv claims on our attention. Over and 
 above its architectural interest, we can never forget that 
 within its walls is the tomb of the famous Samuel Pepys, 
 a member of Parliament, a faithful public servant, a 
 President of the Royal Society, a founder of a great Uni- 
 versity library, and— to mention last the one thing for 
 which his name will be longest cherished— the writer of a 
 ten years' Diary (1059-1669), in one of the most eventful 
 periods of our history. 
 
 For us he is the writer of the Diary. We can hardly
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 151 
 
 think of him without a smile. But when we visit his 
 wife's tomb, look at the bust with which it is surmounted, 
 and read the eulogistic Latin epitaph which was indited 
 by her widowed Samuel ; when we look at the monument 
 below, and think that it occupied the same place when 
 Pepys worshipped here, that he must have often read 
 the quaint inscription, and may possibly have determined 
 to mould his own life on the model of the two worthy 
 aldermen there commemorated ; when, in short, we stand 
 in St. Olave's, Hart Street, the Diary over which we 
 have so often laughed, and which seems to belong to a 
 period too remote to have much reality for us, seems 
 to become a living thing, and its author something more 
 to us than a name. 
 
 In 1672, Sir Andrew Riccard left the advowson to the 
 inhabitants, and with them it has ever since remained. 
 The register books date from 1563, and the curious visitor 
 may still see, under July 24th, 1665, the name of Mary 
 Ramsay, with the dreadful " P " annexed, for she was 
 the person who brought the plague into the City, and 
 who, before the year was out, was followed to the tomb 
 by a hundred thousand victims. The organ is said to be 
 one of the efforts of the famous artist Bernard Schmidt, 
 better known as Father Smith, and it is worthy of his fame. 
 The quaint monuments which fill every corner, the 
 venerable arches of the aisles, the beadle with his silver 
 mace, the arms of City companies on the ironwork, the 
 vestry-room with an angel looking down from the roof, 
 the various patterns of the windows, and not least, the 
 quiet, country-like service, render this one of the most 
 attractive among the minor City churches, quite apart from 
 its connection with Samuel Pepys. Yet, let us endeavour 
 as we "will to recall wandering thoughts, it is impossible
 
 
 152 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 not to remember that in the pnlpit here* Dr. Mills so 
 often " made a good sermon," and at the altar on the 4th 
 of November, 1660, " did begin to nibble at the Common 
 Prayer " ; that here in November, 1669, he buried Mrs. 
 Pepys, so soon after her husband's return from his foreign 
 tour, as her epitaph observes ; and that here, in 1689, Dr. 
 Mills himself was buried. Then, after having survived 
 the last entry in his Diary for more than thirty years, the 
 diarist was borne hither from the house at Clapham 
 where he had died at " about three-quarters past three 
 on Wednesday morning," May 26th, 1703, and was laid 
 under the pavement of the chancel. A hundred and 
 twenty mourning rings were distributed at the funeral, 
 which was performed by Dr. Hickes, the Nonjuring ex- 
 . Dean of Worcester, who wrote of him : " I doubt not 
 but he is now a very blessed spirit, according to his motto, 
 mens cujusque is est quisque " (as the mind, so the man). 
 
 The register spells his name Peyps. Immediately 
 below the bust of Mrs. Pepys is a very good example of the 
 early seventeenth-century monument and epitaph. It 
 commemorates two brothers, aldermen, named Bayning, 
 Andrew and Paul, who died respectively in 1610 and 1616 : 
 
 " If all great Cities prosperously confesse 
 That he by whom their Traffick doth increase 
 Deserves well of them, then th' adventure's worth 
 Of these two who were Brothers both by birth, 
 And office, prove that they have thankful bin 
 For the Honours which the City put them in : 
 And dying old, they by a blest consent 
 This Legacy bequeathed, their Monument. 
 The happy sum and end of their Affaires, 
 Provided well both for their soules and Heires." 
 
 * 
 
 But not in the present pulpit, which came from a 
 neighbouring church.
 
 THE OLDER CITY CHURCHES. 153 
 
 It is pleasant to find for once that the heirs were 
 satisfied. 
 
 The most curious relic of old times is probably to be 
 found in the vestry. The figure of an angel in white 
 plaster appears on the ceiling immediately over the table. 
 The mantelpiece shows us, in addition, carved in mahogany, 
 Faith, Hope, and Charity, and, with the whole room, 
 should by no means be passed without a visit. This is 
 said, according to a local tradition, to have been one of the 
 City churches in which the bells were rung when the 
 Princess Elizabeth was released from the Tower. When 
 she became Queen she presented sets of silken ropes to 
 these parishes, so we have heard, and the crown with a 
 crystal ball on the steeple is connected with the same 
 tradition. 
 

 
 154 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 TEING* 
 
 A Museum amid the Chiltern Hills — Tring— The Vale of Ayles- 
 bury — Akeman Street — The Museum — The Chief Curiosities 
 — Instructive Zoology. 
 
 Few people would expect to find a first-rate zoological 
 museum in a very out-of-the-way town among the Chiltern 
 Hills. Tring nestles in a wooded valley, as remote from 
 railways as, nowadays, any place can be which is no more 
 than thirty-two miles from London. There are many 
 different ways of reaching it. The Tring station, so 
 called, is at Pendley, on the North- Western, two miles off, 
 near Ashridge Park. Wendover and Marston Gate and 
 Cheddington are not far away ; and there are public 
 conveyances which take a visitor from Wycombe, Dunstable, 
 Leighton Buzzard, and other neighbouring centres of 
 population to within measurable distance. But few 
 travellers are likely, except under very unfavourable cir- 
 cumstances, to grumble at being delayed in such beautiful 
 scenery. The Chilterns everywhere bring forth beech 
 trees in abundance, and though they seldom rise more 
 than seven or eight hundred feet above the sea level, 
 they form a lovely mountainous background to many 
 a fair view across the Vale of Aylesbury. The town of 
 Tring is reckoned to be in Hertfordshire, but the Bucking- 
 hamshire Vale, the Conca d'Oro of England, flowing with
 
 TRING. 155 
 
 milk and honey, and teeming with lily-white ducks and 
 little, round black pigs, extends so far south that the 
 boundary is technical only, not natural or geographical. 
 
 In all directions surrounding the Vale are the palaces 
 of the Rothschild family. Halton and Waddesdon smile 
 at each other from opposite hills. Ascot and Eythrope 
 are of minor importance, perhaps, but Mentmore, the 
 seat of the late Baron Meyer de Rothschild, and now of 
 Lord Rosebery, and Aston Clinton, which belonged to 
 Sir Anthony de Rothschild, whose daughter is Lady 
 Battersea, are magnificent places, and remind the 
 visitor that what Ralph of Coggeshale said in the twelfth 
 century is true at the end of the nineteenth, " The houses 
 of the Jews are like kings' palaces." 
 
 Among these splendid mansions the Manor House 
 of Tring, though originally designed by Sir Christopher 
 Wren, is very modest with its plain red brick front standing 
 but a little back from the market-place, and approached 
 from the street by a short avenue of limes. To the south- 
 west, over a high spur of the Chilterns, is the noble park, 
 best reached from Tring by a short branch of the ancient 
 British, Roman, and Saxon road called the Akeman 
 Street. Akeman Street, Tring, takes you straight up-hill 
 to the woods and over the hill to Wigginton and Berk- 
 hampstead ; but as you would enter the park you are 
 arrested by a tall, windowless brick building, in front 
 of which a notice board tells you that the Museum is 
 open to the public on four afternoons and one morning 
 (Friday) in every week. Close by are picturesque 
 houses extending into an avenue running eastward 
 towards the principal mansion, and on a smooth green 
 lawn facing the private buildings of the Museum are 
 half a dozen emus or rheas stalking about in the 
 grass, accompanied by a pretty contingent of long-tailed
 
 
 
 156 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Indian fowls. Cassowaries and zebras may also be seen 
 among the live inhabitants of Tring Park, but this is 
 nearly all there is of a zoological garden, though the aviaries 
 of the late Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild across the 
 valley at Waddesdon are famous in the region. 
 
 The Museum was established in 1889 by Mr. Walter 
 Rothschild, the eldest son of the Lord of Tring. From 
 very modest begimiings it has gradually become an in- 
 stitution of high scientific importance, as befits the attain- 
 ments and wealth of the founder, one of the foremost 
 naturalists of the day. His agents ransack the isles 
 of the South Seas, the pampas and forests of America, 
 and the deserts of Africa for specimens. Though 
 fully representative of the principal orders of animals, 
 the Museum is chiefly remarkable for the number of 
 rarities it preserves. 
 
 The benefit directly and indirectly conferred upon the 
 town and the neighbourhood is incalculable. In addition 
 to ordinary visitors and sightseers a certain number of 
 students are always engaged in the private rooms, where 
 nearly ten thousand birds' skins may be examined, in- 
 cluding the rare yellow-headed parrot from Venezuela 
 (Chrysotis Rothschildi), to which the authorities have 
 given the name of Mr. Rothschild, but which he has 
 modestly omitted from the public division of the Museum. 
 In addition to the ornithological collection, a whole room 
 is devoted to butterflies, of which there are about 30,000 
 examples, and another to beetles of all kinds, of which 
 there must be close upon 100,000 specimens. There 
 is also an excellent library of the latest and best books 
 on natural history. This gigantic undertaking was 
 commenced while Mr. Rothschild was still very young, 
 but was first opened to the public on the completion 
 of the buildings some_dozen years ago. So highly is it
 
 CD 
 
 Z 
 
 en 
 I- 
 
 > 
 < 
 
 DC 
 CO 
 
 Q 
 Z 
 < 
 
 UJ 
 CO 
 
 3 

 
 % ,~ t>
 
 THING. 157 
 
 appreciated that, besides students, more than 30,000 
 visitors passed the turnstile during the first year of the 
 exhibition. On market days, Fridays and Mondays, 
 the galleries are crowded. Unfortunately the exigencies 
 of the situation have been too much for Mr. Eothschild's 
 architect, or builder, for the Museum aspires to no dis- 
 tinctive architectural features, and the lower storey is by 
 far too dark, though lighter than the best rooms of the 
 Natural History Museum at South Kensington, where the 
 atmosphere of London so greatly impedes the labours 
 of the student. The clear air of the Chilterns is admirably 
 suited to Mr. Eothschild's purpose, and both birds and 
 insects show themselves in their true colours, exhibiting 
 hues invisible in town. 
 
 The public part of the show may be sharply divided 
 into four distinct departments. On the lower floor, 
 but inconveniently crowded with specimens, is a series 
 of cases containing examples of all the orders of mammals. 
 Another range contains the birds, and this also is by far 
 too full. On the upper floor are some whales, seals, and 
 other warm-blooded inhabitants of the sea, together 
 with various reptiles, tortoises, snakes, and lizards. Fish 
 also are well represented, as well as corals, shells, and 
 sponges. The fourth department is made up of a series of 
 desk-shaped cabinets containing insects, including spiders, 
 scorpions, leaf and straw insects, and what, in the American 
 language, are termed " flutter bugs " in general, as well 
 as a cabinet of English entomology, arranged in drawers. 
 Great pains have been taken in this department to select 
 suitable and representative specimens to illustrate the 
 whole field, from among the hundreds of thousands in 
 the students' department, many of them being, so far as 
 is known, unique in any collection. A fifth general 
 feature is a large number of examples of skilful taxidermy,
 
 158 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 which are arranged on a kind of swinging floor in the 
 centre. They comprise zebras, both Grevy's, with close, 
 thin stripes, in a kind of pattern, and Chapman's, on which 
 the stripes are coarser, and beautifully set up ; near them, 
 one of the gems of the collection, is a giraffe's head, ex- 
 quisitely treated to show the gentle expression and the 
 soft brown eye, with its long eye-lashes. Some antelopes 
 lead up to the Indian gaur, a gigantic buffalo, which is 
 most life-like, and seems as if it would leap from the plat- 
 form. Near it is a very rare " tauriform " antelope lying 
 down, and next an aard-vark (earth pork) from the same 
 region of South Africa, with its long tongue out, waiting 
 at an ant-hill for its prey. 
 
 i The casual visitor can only pick out here and there 
 what, for rarity or some other cause, appears worthy 
 of special note. The ground-floor collection commences, 
 of course, with marsupials, of which there is a large 
 and very representative series, including opossums from 
 America, phalangers, flying squirrels, the miniature 
 marsupial jerboas (conilurus) ; kangaroos of all sizes, 
 and more wonderful than any other, the large monotreme 
 from New Guinea (Echidna nigroaculeata), which has 
 not yet become common in museums ; it is very dark 
 in colour. Beside most of the stuffed animals are the 
 skeletons, neatly mounted. The " native water-mole " 
 (Ornithorhyncus) is also fully represented, as well as the 
 blind marsupial mole (Notoryctes). Near these archaic 
 animals is a great case of anthropomorphous apes, gorillas, 
 the Gibraltar ape (Macacus inuus, as it is here labelled, 
 but frequently called Inuus ecaudatus), and a female 
 kooloo kamba, a black ape, absurdly like a negro child 
 (Anthropithecus calms). The cat tribe is fully represented 
 by a tiger and cub ; a lion, lioness, and cub ; several 
 ocelots, wild cats, hairy leopards, jaguars, and a wonderfully
 
 TRING. 159 
 
 life-like puma. We can only mention further the wild 
 boars and peccaries, armadilloes, pangolins, quagga, sloths, 
 giant red wolf from South America, and the Malayan 
 binturong ; the cattle and big-horn sheep, rats and 
 agoutis, dormice and beavers ; and pass on to the birds, 
 only pausing to admire the fine setting up of a series of 
 heads of wild buffaloes, and an unwieldy white rhinoceros 
 from South Africa. 
 
 In the departments devoted to birds, the eagle and 
 falcon tribe fill the first two cases. Opposite to them 
 are no fewer than twenty-seven ruffs, all in different 
 plumage, ranging from black to cream colour. A case 
 full of British finches and warblers seems very complete. 
 In the corner, and but indifferently lighted, are the 
 parrots and toucans, among which we cannot pass over 
 a series of varieties of the common grey parrot, w T hite, 
 ash-coloured, red-mottled, and finally, almost entirely 
 red ; nor the contrast presented by a mighty hyacinthine 
 macaw and a tiny Ara Hahni, no larger than a sparrow. 
 The rarer Australian parrakeets are to be seen, but not 
 in any quantity. An owl-parrot and other New Zealand 
 birds seem to offer a missing link between parrots and the 
 accipitrine family ; while the birds of Paradise, humming 
 birds and grass finches, chiefly in cases on the staircase, 
 rival the parrots in bearing " the bright hues of all glorious 
 things." The visitor goes forth sadly, feeling sure he 
 must have missed many of the best and rarest features 
 of the collection, but mitigating his sorrow with a strong 
 sense of gratitude to the learned and generous provider 
 of so much that is calculated to please and instruct his 
 fellow-creatures.
 
 160 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 W BEN'S ST. PAUL'S 
 
 The First Design — Wren's Perplexity — The Foundations — The 
 Opening Service — The General Plan — The Western Portico — 
 The Cupola — The Proportions, compared with those of St. 
 Peter's— A Silly Story— Wren's Epitaph— The Nobility of 
 the Cathedral — The Interior: Carvings and Metal Work — 
 The Organ — The Monuments — The Wellington Monument — 
 The Crypt — Tombs of Nelson and Wellington — Decoration 
 of the Dome and Choir — Burges' Designs — The Reredos — 
 The Old Railings and their Fate— Sir William Richmond's 
 Designs. 
 
 In another chapter I have endeavoured to put together 
 a few notes as to what we know of Old St. Paul's, down 
 to the time of its ruin in the Great Pire. It was not 
 wholly destroyed. Much remained, and it might have 
 been repaired. But there was a want of unity in 
 the building. Repair, to Wren's mind, might have 
 meant using what was left and replacing in the same 
 style what was burnt. But what was the style ? Inigo, 
 when he put his beautiful Palladian portico on the west 
 front, " restored " the Norman nave to suit it. But the 
 east end of the church was in the Pointed style. Which, 
 then, was Wren to adopt ? Some of his Gothic, such 
 as the Tom Tower at Oxford, and the Church of St. Mary 
 Aldermary, is very good — though quite unlike nineteenth
 
 WREN'S ST. PAUL'S. 161 
 
 century Gothic, because, for one thing, the proportions 
 are so carefully calculated. At first, he thought of 
 repairing both ends and of bringing them together, as it 
 were, by crowning the tower with a dome, which would 
 have formed a splendid feature in every view of London. 
 He was, however, forced, after a few experiments, to 
 recognise the untrustworthy character of the old build- 
 ing : it was rubblework on a loose foundation, having 
 been built by what we call " jerry builders," with the 
 largest possible regard to immediate effect and the least 
 possible concern for the stability of the edifice. 
 
 When it became apparent, after some nine years' 
 experiments, during which London was without a 
 cathedral, that a new building must be designed, 
 Wren prepared the beautiful model which we see in a 
 chamber of the triforium. But neither Charles II. 
 nor his brother, afterwards James II., would give any 
 countenance to a Protestant preaching house without 
 chapels for masses or even a choir and chancel. Sir 
 Christopher made three designs of various degrees of 
 compliance; but the King and the Duke of York cared 
 nothing for the beauty of the building : it must have 
 chapels, and be suitable for Romanist worship. Wren 
 held out as long as he could. He is even said to have 
 shed tears. But the King was obdurate. " No per- 
 plexity," says Weale, "that can assail an architect can 
 well equal the difficulty of Wren's task, between a 
 Protestant nation and a Catholic future monarch, to 
 plan a temple that might upon occasions serve for either 
 religion, and therefore for neither well." He suggested 
 the building of a long chancel or choir to his original 
 design. But no ; a totally different arrangement must 
 be made. 
 
 At last Wren produced a drawing, of which it may
 
 162 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 safely be said that it was poor in outward aspect 
 although in plan it was something like the present 
 church, and had plenty of places for chapels,. There was 
 hardly about it a trace of Wren's genius, and the western 
 towers, of the pattern aptly denominated " pepper pots," 
 would have formed a frightful eyesore in the view from 
 Ludgate Hill. Objections were made, and at last Wren, 
 one of the mildest of men, was nettled. He would exhibit, 
 he said, no more designs, and having at length obtained 
 the King's approval of the worst of the series, he de- 
 termined to trouble himself no more about rival sects 
 among the clergy or any outside criticism. Mr. Blomfield 
 (Renaissance Architecture, i. 167) gives us this design 
 from Wren's drawing at All Souls' College, Oxford. 
 He distinguishes it as " the warrant design," because 
 King Charles approved of it as " very artificial, proper, 
 and useful." It is simply grotesque. The steeple of 
 St. Bride's, Fleet Street, is placed on the top of a small 
 dome standing on a drum. The drum again is on a 
 half-dome. There are no distinctly architectural features, 
 no order, no kind of ornament, but Inigo Jones's portico 
 is renewed at the western end. Mr. Blomfield thinks 
 Wren was serious in offering this drawing, but I cannot 
 believe that he ever intended to use any part of it, 
 and, as a fact, he never did. He had begun to recognise 
 that time was on his side, and that he would have abundant 
 leisure in which to decide what he would do and how 
 he would do it. The King graciously allowed him to 
 introduce such alterations and improvements as he 
 chose. This leave was all he wanted, and he was in 
 ao way hampered by the King's command that he 
 jhould begin with the east end, choir and chancel. This 
 was in 1675. Nine years more were to elapse before 
 much progress had been made. The materials were to
 
 wren's st. Paul's. 103 
 
 be gathered and tested ; the best workmen in each depart- 
 ment had to be sought out. Such ironworkers as those 
 of Lamberhurst ; such masons as the two Strongs ; such 
 carvers as Gibbons and Cibber ; such artists even as 
 Thornhill, did not abound. 
 
 Clearing the foundation was a heavy task, and the 
 utter ruin wrought by the Fire may be judged if we 
 visit the church as it is, and observe how few of the 
 monuments of which the old church was full have survived. 
 Contrary to the King's command, Wren set to work where 
 the ground was cleared, which happened to be at the 
 west end. He evidently did not wish to delay a single 
 moment once it was possible to begin. Within two months 
 after he had the King's approval the first stone was laid, 
 the foundations being on what was called " the pot earth," 
 which had served for the old church. Wren's extreme 
 care in small matters is exemplified by an anecdote. Gwilt 
 tells us that when he had completed the circuit of the 
 new foundation, all but six or seven feet at the north-east 
 corner, he found a place from which " the pot earth " had 
 been removed. Not trusting the sand, and having an 
 ingrained dislike to piling, he built a solid pier ten feet 
 square, commencing eighteen feet below the surface, and 
 at fifteen feet he turned a massive arch from the pier to 
 connect it with the rest of the foundation. 
 
 The choir was first ready for use, and was opened for 
 divine service on the Thanksgiving Day for the Peace of 
 Ryswick, the 2nd of December, 1697. Charles and James 
 were both gone ; so was Queen Mary, who had been a 
 steady friend to Wren. No one now dared to question the 
 suitability of his designs, even though he still kept them 
 in his own mind. He could not revert to his original 
 plan, but the church he built is the glory of our great 
 city, a landmark, a picturesque relief to the eye amid
 
 164 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 sordid surroundings — a subject of congratulation to all 
 who love good architecture and a sublime scenic effect. 
 
 It will be remarked that no consecration service was 
 held in St. Paul's. The idea of solemn ceremonies of this 
 kind was wholly foreign to the feelings of citizens who had 
 risked their lives and their property to expel King James 
 and to bring in King William, but a special collect was 
 used, of such beauty and fitness that it must not be omitted 
 here. It is to be found in the London Gazette (2-6 
 December, 1697) : — 
 
 " Most Gracious Father, who hast remembered Thy ancient 
 loving kindness, and restored to us the public solemnities of 
 worship in this Thy house ; we offer our devout praises and 
 thanksgivings to Thee for this Thy mercy, humbly beseeching 
 Thee to perfect and establish this good work. Thou, Lord, 
 dwellest not in a house made with hands ; Heaven and the 
 Heaven of Heavens cannot contain Thee ; but though Thy 
 Throne is in Heaven, earth is Thy footstool. Vouchsafe, there- 
 fore, we beseech Thee, Thy gracious presence in this Thy house, 
 to hear our prayers and accept our sacrifices of praise and thanks- 
 givings, and grant that it may never be defiled with idolatrous 
 worship or profaneness ; but that truth and peace may dwell 
 in this place ; that sincere piety and devotion may be the glory 
 of it ; that they who minister, may attend on their ministry ; 
 they who teach, on teaching ; they who exhort, on exhortation ; 
 they who rule, with diligence ; that Thy name may be in all 
 things glorified." 
 
 Burnet, Bishop of Salisbury, preached a sermon before 
 the King, probably at Whitehall, but Elmes one of 
 Wren's biographers, mixes up the Peace, the sermon, and 
 the opening of St. Paul's in such a way that he makes us 
 imagine that the celebration in all three respects took 
 place at St. Paul's. It only remains here to say that the 
 first Sunday servicewas held^on the 5th, three days later. 
 Even the briefest description of the cathedral church
 
 w 
 J 
 D 
 < 
 Q. - 
 
 <o 
 . IN 
 I- fc 
 O) 
 
 C£ E 
 
 o *■ 
 
 <a 
 
 z § 
 o I 
 
 Q £ 
 
 in 
 u. 
 
 03 
 
 z 
 
 HI 
 
 IT 

 
 WRENS ST. PAULS. 165 
 
 must commence by pointing out its novelty and originality. 
 Wren can never have seen a domed building of any size 
 until he was called upon to build one of the largest in 
 existence. During his visit to Paris, in 1665, he may 
 have made special observation of Le Mercier's dome of 
 the Sorbonne, but the fact is not recorded ; and that dome, 
 commenced in 1629, is neither instructive nor inspiring. 
 It may, however, have served as a warning. The best 
 known domes of modern Paris were not then in existence ; 
 and it is quite likely that both St. Genevieve and the 
 Invalides were imitated from St. Paul's. Of course 
 St. Peter's at Home set the pattern for all, and Wren, in 
 selecting what was best in that great building and avoiding 
 its errors, has left a cathedral which compares favourably 
 with its older and greater rival south of the Alps. The 
 dome of St. Peter's is hidden in the front view owing 
 chiefly to Bernini's immense colonnade ; but if Wren 
 could have colonnaded St. Paul's Churchyard on the 
 symmetrical plan he used so effectively at Greenwich, 
 he would have taken good care to avoid this serious fault ; 
 while the result would have placed his church in the very 
 front rank, and well ahead of all possible competitors. 
 Mr. Birch, in his recent book on London Churches, says 
 that although St. Peter's exceeds St. Paul's " in size, and 
 in richness of decoration, in external effect it is admittedly 
 inferior." 
 
 The best technical account of the architecture of St. 
 Paul's is that contributed by Gwilt to Britton and Pugin's 
 "Edifices of London" (i., 8). It may be abridged here. 
 The plan of St. Paul's is a Latin cross, to the foot or western 
 end of which projections are added north and south. 
 These prolongations give increased width to the west 
 front, and within leave space on either side for a morning 
 chapel and a consistory court. At the internal angles
 
 166 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 of the cross are small square bastion-like adjuncts, whose 
 chief use is in strengthening the piers of the dome, but 
 which also serve within for staircases and vestries, the 
 chief staircase being that to the Library, on the south- 
 western side. The eastern end is slightly curved so as 
 to form an apse. The nave and the choir are separated 
 by the space under the dome, and are each flanked by 
 three arches, clear of the transepts. The transepts 
 consist of one clear arch each, and end in semi-circular 
 porticoes. 
 
 Within, the eastern and western limbs of the cross 
 are seen to end in the great piers which support the 
 dome, similar piers being north and south. There are 
 four large arches and four smaller, as at Ely Cathedral, a 
 building which Wren probably studied when his uncle, 
 Matthew Wren, was bishop of that see. The whole of the 
 interior is strengthened and at the same time ornamented 
 by pilasters of the Corinthian order. Two orders appear 
 on the exterior, the pattern being set by the portico in 
 its two storeys, one above the other. The lower order is 
 Corinthian ; the upper, Wren himself described as " a 
 composition," but it is only a slight variation of the other. 
 
 The western portico was at first, it is believed, intended 
 to be single, built of marble monolithic pillars of vast size. 
 We cannot doubt that this feature, which Wren had 
 first designed for his " preaching house," would have 
 produced a noble effect. But marble was expensive, 
 and monoliths were not to be had, and perhaps it is as 
 well. The portico is most beautiful with its double columns, 
 which is an arrangement the architect may have learned 
 in France, where it was employed with such effect by 
 Perrault in the east front of the Louvre. This was 
 commenced in the selfsame year — 1GG6 — that saw the 
 destruction of Old St. Paul's, so that Wren did not see the
 
 WREN'S ST. PAUL'S. 167 
 
 building, though he may have seen Perrault's designs, 
 and must have heard all about them long before he came 
 to his west front. In the pediment, above the upper 
 portico, is a sculptured relief by Francis Bird, representing 
 the conversion of St. Paul. Two exceedingly graceful 
 towers flank the portico, rising from square pedestals 
 above the upper order, plain at first, but crowned by steeples 
 consisting of a group of pillars of great lightness surmounted 
 by small domes " of contrary flexure, very like bells," as 
 Gwilt remarks. These towers, like everything in the 
 exterior of the church, are designed to enhance to the 
 utmost the effect of the central dome, being each 220 feet 
 high, or two-thirds the height of the cupola, counting to 
 the cross on the summit. They are double the height 
 of the adjacent roofs. 
 
 The cupola " rises from the body of the church in great 
 majesty." The colonnade which surrounds it has always 
 been admired. It stands on a great circular base of plain 
 masonry, by which it is admirably set off. The order 
 of the colonnade, which is also Composite in style, is 
 finished at the top with an Italian balustrade, a feature 
 Wren objected to, but, though incongruous, it is not 
 altogether unpleasing. Above this balustrade is what 
 Gwilt calls an attic, being in reality a part of the dome, 
 which rises directly from it. The inner dome, that visible 
 from the interior of the church, is, in fact, contained in 
 this attic storey, and rises but slightly above it. The 
 exterior of the dome forms a casing to conceal and 
 strengthen a cone of brickwork which sustains the stone 
 lantern and the great gilt ball and cross which crown 
 the edifice. Weale gives us a clear idea of the size of the 
 lantern. " If placed on the floor of the church, it would 
 not stand under the ceiling of the nave." The roof is 
 double, as in all vaulted buildings, the inner structure
 
 168 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 being of masonry and the outer of wood. " The beautiful 
 outer dome," remarks the same writer, " cannot be called 
 unreal ; it corresponds in structure to the upper roofs 
 of all the other parts, and is in the most economical as well 
 as beautiful form for a timber roof to cover such a space. 
 The waste of internal capacity in the unseen spaces between 
 the innermost and outermost dome is not nearly so great 
 as in the roofs of Gothic buildings ; and no part of this 
 structure can be said to be like a Gothic high roof or spire, 
 erected for external effect alone, except the lantern." As 
 to the balustrade just mentioned, Weale is equally clear. 
 " A late writer on architecture has said, regarding the 
 effect of scale or no scale on works of nature or art, ' it 
 takes very little to humble a mountain. A hut will do 
 it sometimes.' It takes still less to humble a cathedral, 
 and this little, Wren's contemptible successor contrived to 
 add, in his mock balustrade over the second cornice." 
 It is studiously contrived to give a false scale, like the 
 gigantic cherubs of St. Peter's. " We know that a balus- 
 trade is meant to lean upon." But this one is nine feet 
 high, and, if it chanced to be a little more obtrusive, it 
 would undoubtedly have the effect attributed to it by 
 Weale, of apparently reducing} the ninety feet of the 
 whole building to thirty or forty. 
 
 This will be the place for a few notes as to the pro- 
 portions of St. Paul's. The simple ratio of one to two 
 prevails almost everywhere. The windows, for example, 
 are 12 feet wide by 24 feet high. The aisles are 19 feet 
 in clear width by 38 feet in height. The domed vestibule 
 at the west end of the nave is a square of 47 feet by 94 feet 
 in height. The space under the great dome is 108 feet 
 in width, and is 216 feet high. The western towers, 
 similarly, are in height just double the adjacent roofs. 
 There is no attempt made in St. Peter's to preserve any
 
 wren's ST. PAUL'S. 169 
 
 such ratios, but it may be well to quote a few comparative 
 
 figures. St. Paul's ball and cross are 365 feet above the 
 
 outer ground line ; St. Peter's are 452 feet. The supports 
 
 of St. Paul's occupy two-ninths of its plan, while those 
 
 of St. Peter's amount to a quarter. The nave of St. 
 
 Paul's is 41 feet in width and 82 feet in height. That of 
 
 St. Peter's is 84 feet in width and 147 feet in height. It 
 
 will easily be seen that, small as the London building appears 
 
 to be as compared with the Roman, its proportions are 
 
 far more satisfactory, and its beauty is thereby greatly 
 
 enhanced. To quote Weale once more to show what 
 
 various proportions have been admired : " At the Pantheon 
 
 the clear height is equal to the breadth, and at St. Sophia 
 
 it is one-third greater. In the two domes of Florence and 
 
 of St. Paul's it is twice, and at St. Peter's two and a half 
 
 times the breadth." 
 
 St. Peter's laboured under the drawback that fourteen 
 architects, chiefly of divergent views, were employed for 
 176 years on the building. St. Paul's enjoyed the advan- 
 tage, in this respect, that only two architects wero 
 employed on it, one for forty-three years and one for 
 nearly two. There is a silly fiction, repeated solemnly by 
 Mr. Birch, which tells us that St. Paul's is " the culminating 
 effort of the genius of a single architect," and was built 
 under the fostering care of one bishop, and by the " adminis- 
 trative skill of one master mason." We may leave Wren's 
 successor as architect, William Benson, almost out of the 
 account, though he contrived to spoil Wren's work as 
 much as he could in his short tenure of the office of sur- 
 veyor, by the erection of the gigantic balustrade round 
 the dome. But when the first stone of the church was 
 laid, in the reign of Charles II., Henchman was Bishop. 
 He died in October, 1675, and was succeeded by Compton, 
 who lived till July, 1713, so that he saw the new choir
 
 170 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 ready for divine service in December, 1697, and the last 
 stone of masonry laid in 1710. But the church was not. 
 finished even then. He was succeeded by Robinson, 
 who was Bishop at the time of Wren's dismissal, and who 
 died in 1723, two months only after the great architect, 
 when Gibson came into office and saw the finishing touches 
 put to the cathedral. So, too, with the master masons. 
 Thomas Strong, the first, died in 1681, and was succeeded 
 by his brother, Edward, who died in the same year as 
 Wren and Bishop Robinson. So that the traditional 
 tale about a single architect, and the fostering care of one 
 bishop, and administrative skill of one master mason, has 
 to be retold as follows : under three architects, three 
 bishops, or, strictly speaking, four, and three master 
 masons, at least. 
 
 It would be very hard to say when St. Paul's was 
 completed. It was not in 1697, when the choir was 
 opened— not consecrated, as some say. It was not in 
 1718, when Wren handed it over to Benson. It was 
 not in 1720, when Benson was dismissed. Perhaps we 
 may say that it was when Robert Mylne, a good architect, 
 born the year after Wren's death, was appointed surveyor, 
 namely, in 1766. He put a finishing touch to the fabric 
 when he placed, over the entrance to the choir, the in- 
 scription which Wren's son had placed on his grave in 
 the vault below, and which may still be seen in the north 
 transept : Si monumentum requiris circumspice. 
 
 In comparing St. Peter's and St. Paul's, the exaggerated 
 greatness of particular features dwarfs the apparent size 
 of the whole and deceives the human eye, at St. Peter's. 
 The limitations of human sight do not seem to have 
 been considered by the architects. In St. Paul's 
 the drum is much lower, and is not broken by the 
 line of a string course as at St. Peter's. The whole
 
 MODEL BY STEVENS OF THE WELLINGTON MONUMENT 
 
 (p. 777).
 
 
 (UttblJ* a
 
 WREN'S ST. PAUL'S. 171 
 
 composition resolves itself into three equal divisions, of 
 which one is occupied by the drum and the colonnade 
 above it. The second division contains the ring of 
 plain windows in an attic, which takes one quarter, 
 and the dome itself, which takes three quarters. The 
 dome has thirty-two ribs. The third division is occupied 
 by the lantern, ball, and cross, which are not so slender 
 as those of St. Peter's. The width of the drum and of 
 the colonnade and of the dome at its springing is two 
 divisions. Therefore, in St. Peter's the height is to the 
 breadth as seven to four, while at St. Paul's it is as three 
 to two, an easier proportion for the unconscious mental 
 process which affects our sense of beauty. It should be 
 mentioned that these proportional measurements are 
 approximate only. Wren's mind took great pleasure 
 in combinations of architectural parts and features, and 
 every church he built contained a problem carefully worked 
 out. The great difference between the two cupolas and 
 their supports seems to be marked by the thirty-two 
 columns which surround the cupola of St. Paul's as con- 
 trasted with the fourteen coupled columns of St. Peter's. 
 The charm of a building depends much more on its pro- 
 portions than on its ornamentation. The most bigoted 
 Goth cannot help an exclamation of pleasure at a first 
 view of St. Paul's. 
 
 Many of us were brought up with an idea that modern 
 Gothic is the only true style. We were told that St. 
 Paul's was a sham ; that one half was built to conceal 
 the other half, a fault to be found with all buildings of 
 a certain size, though less with St. Paul's than with any 
 other; that it was heathenish ; that it boasted no long 
 drawn aisles ; that its vaults were unf retted, and so on. 
 Nevertheless, its first view gave us, one and all, a sensation 
 of pleasure which neither the Houses of Parliament nor
 
 172 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 the Law Courts, nor St. Pancras Hotel, nor even the 
 rival Cathedral at Truro, can evoke. This is largely due 
 to the calculations which Wren made of the proportions. 
 His proportions have a simplicity so great that they are 
 readily grasped, and are the principal elements in a success 
 which is denied by few. He allowed for human weakness 
 in three particulars. He made his building look strong. 
 He added no features to deceive the eye as to its size. And 
 he combined proportions which are as simple as those 
 of St. Peter's are complex. The breadth of the vaulting 
 of St. Peter's is to its height as 1 to 1.75. At St. Paul's 
 it is as 1 to 2. The first involves elaborate calculation 
 before it is understood. A child can grasp the relation 
 of one to twice one. 
 
 The interior of the church presents to the visitor 
 feature after feature of the highest beauty. It is dignified 
 as well, and seems to repeat constantly Wren's saying, 
 " Building is for eternity." The morning chapel is 
 on the left at the western entrance, and, with the 
 consistorial court on the opposite side, forms the foot of 
 the cross. All the details may be carefully examined, 
 and will yield new pleasure at every visit to anyone 
 who admires skill in wrought-iron, in carved wood, 
 and above all in the exquisite undercutting of Grinling 
 Gibbons' floral wreaths and capitals of stone. Exami- 
 nation of these things involves a series of surprises, and 
 proves that the botanical wonders shown to us by the 
 monk of Southwell are rivalled and often surpassed by 
 the carvers of St. Paul's, and that too in some ten times 
 the quantity. The best panel of stone carving is usually 
 thought to be that at the entrance to the north aisle of 
 the choir. Neither Gibbons nor his helper, Cibber, can 
 have sculptured them all, but thoy must have superintended 
 their workmen so carefully that whether it is in the stone-
 
 WREN'S ST. PAUL'S. 173 
 
 work, the pear wood, the oak of the stalls, the cherubs 
 in the choir, the jambs of the doorways, the saints and 
 angels of the organ case, the screens of the chapels — in 
 everything we seem to recognise the same hand, without 
 any nagging or failure. It is the same with the metal- 
 work, some of which will repay careful examination, 
 especially the scroll work in the gates north and south 
 of the choir, and the small grills in the side aisles. These 
 and other iron-work are attributed to a French designer, 
 Tijou, but were made by English workmen. Tijou de- 
 signed the well-known gates made at Hampton Court 
 by Huntingdon Shaw. There is a certain decline to be 
 traced in the wood-carving of the morning chapel and 
 the consistorial court, by Jonathan Maine ; but in almost 
 any other church it would be pointed out as of superior 
 beauty. The organ, which formerly stood across the 
 entrance to the choir, is now divided very judiciously, 
 and the view eastward shows extremely well. 
 
 The organ was originally constructed by " Father 
 Schmidt." A short but sufficiently full account of it is 
 in a little volume on " Organs Built in England," written 
 anonymously by a clergyman in 1847. Schmidt, we 
 read, was distinguished for the sweetness and brilliancy 
 of his wooden pipes, to which he gave great attention. 
 The organ of St. Paul's was one of his best works, and even 
 now some of his stops are in the divided instrument. It 
 was first used in 1G94. The magnificent chorus was its 
 principal feature, and was improved by Bishop in 1826. The 
 swell had been added by Crantz in the eighteenth century. 
 In some respects the organ has been greatly improved 
 of late years. Wren, jealous of his architectural features, 
 never allowed it room enough, and the modern methods 
 of laying pipes in any convenient situation had not been 
 discovered. Some of Schmidt's stops lay useless in the
 
 174 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 vestry. All this has now been changed, and good judges 
 assert that the organ of St. Paul's is not only one of the 
 best and largest, but also one of the sweetest in the world. 
 It is related that Handel held the instrument as it was 
 in his day in high esteem, and often played on it. What 
 would he think of it now ? 
 
 If we turn from the architectural view of St. Paul's 
 to examine the monuments which have been placed in 
 the building, and to inquire as to the mosaic and other 
 decorations, we shall enter on subjects more or less con- 
 troversial. Without mention of these things no account 
 of the church would be at all complete ; but we must 
 endeavour to glance at them briefly and pass on. The 
 monuments engage our attention first, and offer a difficult 
 and delicate theme for treatment. It would, perhaps, 
 be a mistake to say that the church would be better for 
 their removal ; yet there are but few that can be reckoned 
 worthy of the situation. Portions of six figures which 
 were in Old St. Paul's may still be seen : one in the south 
 aisle of the choir has already been described as the monu- 
 ment of Dean Donne ; the other five are in the crypt 
 at the east end. They have been identified as belonging 
 to the monuments of Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord Keeper ; 
 Sir Christopher Hatton, Lord Chancellor ; Sir John 
 Wolley ; Sir Thomas Heneage ; and Sir William Cockayne, 
 who was Lord Mayor in 1019, and died in 102G. 
 
 In the south aisle of the choir, beside the effigy of Dean 
 Donne— whose best memorial is Izaak Walton's biography 
 —are the modern tombs of Bishops Blomfield and Jackson, 
 and of Dean Mihnan, none of which calls for special notice. 
 Beyond them and in strong contrast is the kneeling figure 
 of Reginald Heber, Bishop of Calcutta (d. 1820). It is 
 by Sir Francis Chan trey, but cannot be greatly admired.
 
 wren's ST. PAUL'S. 175 
 
 At the extreme east end is a recumbent effigy of Canon 
 Liddon (d. 1890). 
 
 Under the dome are some sad eyesores, especially the 
 semi-nude statues of Johnson (d. 1784, and buried in 
 Westminster Abbey), and of John Howard (d. 1790), 
 both by Bacon. Howard's monument was the first to 
 be placed in the church, and would seem to have set a 
 fashion in bad art. Bacon could, and sometimes did, 
 excel in sculpture, but St. Paul's seems to have deprived 
 him of his presence of mind, an effect it had also on both 
 Flaxman and Chan trey. There were, however, lower 
 depths than even this to be reached. In the north 
 transept are figures cut in stone— they cannot be called 
 statues or sculpture— of several members of the illustrious 
 family of Napier, by Adams ; and a battle scene by Bailey, 
 of enormous size and nudity, to the memory of Sir William 
 Ponsonby, a Waterloo hero ; under the dome, in a most 
 conspicuous place, is a pulpit to the memory of Captain 
 Robert Fitzgerald, who died in 1853. It consists of 
 pillars and panels of coloured marbles arranged by Mr. 
 Penrose, and demonstrates the truism that incongruity 
 is not of necessity picturesque. 
 
 When the organ was taken down and divided in 1870, 
 the monument of Nelson was removed from its place 
 against the choir screen. It now stands in the south 
 transept, where it goes far, with some of the other monu- 
 ments near it, to spoil the view. One reads the name of 
 Flaxman upon it, as well as upon a great group, in even 
 worse taste, worse style, and poorer sculpture, to the memory 
 of Earl Howe (d. 1799). Two other groups are rather 
 less offensive. They are by Rossi, an Italian, and represent 
 Lord Rodney (d. 1792), and Lord Cornwallis (d. 1805). 
 The Historic Muse on the Rodney group is very fine. 
 Among the more conspicuous failures in the church is the
 
 176 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 cenotaph of General Gordon, who was killed at Khartoum 
 in 1885. It is by Sir Edgar Boehm, a foreign artist, 
 naturalised like Marochetti, and is very unfortunately 
 placed, being immediately to the north of Stevens's master- 
 piece, and close to the Melbourne memorial. If the 
 hero's recumbent figure and its base had any merits they 
 would still suffer in competition with the Wellington 
 monument ; if they had any poetic feeling, or even 
 sentiment, Marochetti's angels would have excelled them. 
 
 Marochetti, an Italian, was before all things poetical. 
 As a sculptor he was capable of making a design, but he 
 was not capable of fully carrying it out. The statue of 
 Prince Albert at Kensington Gore was to have been by 
 him. The model he produced was found to be impossible, 
 and the authorities discovered when it was all but too 
 late that they ought to have entrusted the work to Foley, 
 who barely lived to finish it. The tomb by Marochetti at 
 St. Paul's is in the north aisle. It commemorates two 
 members of the family of Lamb. The elder, William, 
 inherited the Irish Viscounty of Melbourne, and was 
 Prime Minister at the time of Queen Victoria's accession. 
 He died in 1848, and was succeeded as Lord Melbourne 
 by his brother, Frederick James, Lord Beauvale, who died 
 in 1853, and to whose taste the design of the monument 
 may be chiefly ascribed. It represents a sable portal, the 
 ebony entrance of a tomb. The panelling of the doorway, 
 which exactly fills the space under the easternmost window 
 of the north aisle of the nave, is very poor and meaningless, 
 wanting both in design and in excellence of execution. On 
 two panels are gilded the names of the two brothers. On 
 either side, in white marble, are two statues ; on the west, 
 the Angel of Death, leaning on his sword ; on the 
 east side the Angel of the Besurrection with his trumpet. 
 The poetical feeling is better than that of any other
 
 CENTRAL FIGURE FOR THE MOSAIC IN THE APSE OF ST. PAUL'S. 
 (From a photograph by Mr. F. Hollyer of the Cartoon by Sir William Richmond, K.C.B., R.A.)
 
 fi> 
 
 v <Xj^^X 
 
 

 
 wren's st. Paul's. 177 
 
 monument in the church,, and, in fact, wholly disarms the 
 criticism which the shortcomings of the sculpture might 
 otherwise evoke. Marochetti used figures of angels very 
 like these for the monument over the well of Cawnpore. 
 
 We may well imagine that -when it was resolved to 
 remove the Wellington monument from the side chapel 
 where it ought never to have been put, the Dean and 
 Chapter were unwilling to place it under the arch for 
 which Stevens designed it. This was the easternmost 
 arch on the north side. It would have hidden the Mel- 
 bourne monument. They, perhaps wisely, resolved to place 
 it under the middle arch where it w r ould only oc cult 
 Boehm's wretched figure of Gordon. As the three nave 
 arches are of equal height, it does not greatly matter. 
 It is to be hoped that now there is abundant room for 
 it, the equestrian statue which Stevens designed to crown 
 his work may be placed upon its summit ; but the extra- 
 ordinary vacillations of successive deans and chapters as 
 to this, the one worthy piece of memorial sculpture in 
 their church, warn us not to expect too much. 
 
 Alfred Stevens was undoubtedly the. greatest sculptor 
 England has produced, and his Wellington monument is 
 his greatest work. Stevens did not live to see the monu- 
 ment set up, having died in 1875. It is not to the credit 
 of the Dean and Chapter that we can assign its removal 
 io its present position. After it had remained some twenty 
 years in the consistorial court behind the great oaken 
 screen and against the light of a south window, the monu- 
 ment was transferred to a place approximately that for 
 which it had been designed, with a south window shining 
 not behind it but on it, and as full a view as possible from 
 the central aisle of the nave. This was done, in 1892, 
 through the exertions and generosity of the late Lord 
 Leighton and some of his friends.
 
 178 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 When we descend to the crypt we first reach " The 
 Painters' Corner." Wren's tombstone at the eastern 
 end of the south aisle bears his name, and a tablet on the 
 wall above contains the oft-quoted words, Si monumentum 
 requiris circumspice. Among the artists sleep Turner, 
 Landseer, Reynolds, Lawrence, Leighton, and Millais. 
 Two eminent bridge builders, Reiijiie and Mylne, are also 
 laid here, and Sir Astley Paston Cooper, the surgeon. 
 
 The aspect of the crypt is very fine, Wren's desire 
 to build for eternity being everywhere apparent. Up Io 
 thd middle of the last century nothing of great interest 
 was to be seen except the sarcophagus in which the re- 
 mains of Lord Nelson do not repose. Since the funeral 
 of the Duke of Wellington an attempt has been made, with 
 some success, both to keep the crypt in better order and 
 to utilise some parts of it for divine service. 
 
 Nelson's tomb is marked by a black marble sarcophagus, 
 to which a curious history attaches. It was made by a 
 Florentine named Benedetto da Rovezzano, in or about 
 the year 1524, for Cardinal Wolsey. The King had 
 granted leave to his great minister to appropriate as a 
 burial place the old chapel of St. Edward at Windsor, 
 and Wolsey set about constructing for himself a sumptuous 
 monument. This marble coffin was handsomely decorated 
 with gilt copper, and, it is supposed, bore a figure of the 
 cardinal. After his disgrace, it lay neglected in what 
 long bore the name of Wolsey's tomb-house ; and Colonel 
 Whichcott, Governor of the Castle during the Common- 
 wealth, sold the metal work for £600. At the time of 
 Nelson's death (1805) it was brought here, but it was found 
 too small for the hero's coffin. His body, therefore, rests in 
 the masonry below, enclosed in the coffin which Captain 
 Hallo well, of the Swiftsure, had caused to be made of the 
 mainmast of the Orient, destroyed at the Battle of the
 
 WREN'S ST. PAUL'S. 179 
 
 Nile. The sarcophagus is a handsome piece of work 
 resting on a base of white and black marble, on wliich 
 Nelson's name is inscribed. On the north side is the 
 grave of the eighth Earl of Northesk, who was third in 
 command at Trafalgar, which battle he survived till 1831. 
 On the south is the grave of Lord Collingwood, the second 
 in command at Trafalgar, who died in 1810. 
 
 Passing further to the westward we come to the tomb 
 of the Duke of Wellington. It consists of a huge block 
 of purple granite or porphyry, from Cornwall, fashioned 
 very skilfully into the form of a classical sarcophagus, 
 within which the body actually rests. The body of Picton, 
 one of Wellington's generals, who fell at Waterloo, was 
 first buried in the little chapel of St. George in the Bays- 
 water Road, and was removed to lie near that of his old 
 leader in 1859. 
 
 At the extreme west end of the crypt is a relic which 
 once more connects the names of Wellington and Stevens. 
 This is the vast bronze funeral car or hearse on wliich 
 the Duke's coffin was conveyed from the Horse Guards 
 to St. Paul's. Redgrave, a very second-rate landscape 
 painter, had the preparation of the designs, but Stevens 
 hand is apparent in every item, and his work has always 
 been recognised as pervading the whole of the massive 
 and beautiful hearse. 
 
 It is well known that Sir Christopher Wren desired 
 to see colour, gilding, and especially mosaic, employed in 
 the decoration of St. Paul's. Nothing effectual was done 
 to carry out his wishes until a comparatively recent periods 
 He left designs for a baldachino, a model of which used to 
 be preserved in the library. The very poor and unworthy 
 pictures in monotone with which Sir James Thornhill 
 covered the under surface of the dome, though they have 
 been cleaned and touched up more than once, seem only
 
 180 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 contrived to enhance the general gloom of that part of the 
 view from below. 
 
 Many schemes for the decoration of St. Paul's were put 
 forward during the second half of the nineteenth century. 
 The funeral of the Duke of Wellington, in November, 
 1852, seems first to have tardily brought home to those 
 concerned the unadorned and even squalid condition of 
 their church. When Alfred Stevens was commissioned 
 to make Wellington's monument, the bareness of the 
 walls struck him most unpleasantly, and he formulated 
 a scheme for an elaborate series of pictures and inlays. 
 Another grand public function, of a more cheerful character 
 than that of 1852, was the Thanksgiving of the Prince of 
 Wales on his recovery from a fever, in 1872. Again 
 was the public attention called to the melancholy con- 
 dition of St. Paul's, and large subscriptions were ob- 
 tained for the decoration. The views of Stevens had 
 influenced the public mind, and the Dean and Chapter, 
 urged by the universal mandate, and with ample funds 
 in then hands, appointed a committee and spent the 
 munificent sum of £100 on the purchase of Stevens's design 
 for the dome. By an incredible effort, after four years' 
 further deliberation, they decided to employ Mr. Stannus, 
 who had completed the Wellington monument for Stevens, 
 to prepare some coloured full-sized cartoons for two ribs 
 of the dome. The late Lord Leighton, Sir Edward Poynter, 
 and Mr. George F. Watts were consulted on the decoration 
 of the spaudrils below the dome with mosaics of the four 
 evangelists and the four greater prophets. St. Matthew 
 and St. John, by Mr. Watts, were translated into mosaic 
 by Messieurs Salviati, for in matters of this kind English- 
 men usually prefer to employ foreigners. The first work 
 was in place in 1878, and the result was received with mixed 
 feelings by the public. Those best able to judge saw at
 
 WREN'S ST. PAULS. 181 
 
 once that the artist had not realised the conditions. He 
 had failed to perceive that a harmony of brilliant colour 
 and an absence of any attempts at the grand style in 
 drawing and composition, would have succeeded better. 
 Instead, the colour is as dull as possible, and the attitude 
 of the two figures and the attendant angels is forced ; 
 while instead of the kind of flatness which alone suits 
 mosaic, something like chiaroscuro was invoked, as if to 
 accentuate the other faults of the designs. But a more 
 serious failure resulted from the employment of the mosaic 
 of Venice instead of that of Whitefriars. Not to speak 
 of the greatly increased cost of bringing over foreign 
 workmen and their glass, the inlay has been found far 
 too smooth for our climate. It has, in short, no surface, 
 none of what artists call "grain"; and is in many respects 
 extremely uninteresting. 
 
 The Dean and Chapter next acquiesced in the 
 appointment of William Burges as " architect of the 
 completion." He approached the work exactly as Scott 
 and Street and other Gothic architects approached a 
 country church, whose history was to be carefully 
 wiped from its walls by way of restoration. As, accord- 
 ing to the authorities of his school, St. Paul's was an 
 Italian building, it was to be " restored " into Italian 
 Gothic, or perhaps Byzantine. Burges considered St. 
 Paul's as a heathen temple, thought it hideous, and openly 
 proclaimed this opinion. To his mind, the only way to 
 " complete " or " restore " it was to modify or alter every- 
 thing classical. The Corinthian and Composite capitals 
 were to be made into mediaeval grotesques. Every part 
 of the church was to be coated with gilding ; and, in the 
 drawings exhibited, his very rudimentary ideas of colour 
 were shown by everything that was not gilding being 
 yellow. The effect was startling, as may be imagined,
 
 182 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 yet it will hardly be believed that the Dean and Chapter 
 dallied with it, and the members of the amateur committee 
 were divided about it. Meanwhile, though schemes 
 and designs and controversies were in the air, very little, 
 if any, progress was made, and in the spring of 1881 
 Burges died. 
 
 Meanwhilei the eight pendentives or spandrils of the 
 dome received their mosaics. The figures of St. Matthew 
 and St. John by Mr. Watts were supplemented by St. 
 Mark and St. Luke by Mr. Brittan, while poor Alfred 
 Stevens's design for the figures of the four greater prophets 
 was carried out. He was only actually concerned in the 
 production of Isaiah, but drew the head for the Daniel. 
 The rest were enlarged from his sketches. They do not 
 recall his style, and, in common with those of the 
 evangelists, have a serious fault : the figures are so large 
 that they seem to dwarf the dome. This is an error 
 which could not have been committed if the artists had 
 remembered that Wren chose his proportions with reference 
 to the size and sight of a human being. I have remarked 
 already that, unlike St. Peter's, where cupids six feet 
 high are among the adornments, nothing in St. Paul's 
 is colossal. It was for this same fault that Wren con- 
 demned Benson's balustrade. The subject is one of 
 great difficulty, but it affords a criterion which we can 
 apply to all the new work — all the work not by Wren in 
 the church. 
 
 In designing the new reredos, Messrs. Bodley and 
 Garner kept the principle of proportion well in mind. 
 The figures with which it is adorned are all of moderate 
 size. They do not in any way interfere with the spec- 
 tator's power of appreciating the size of the church. The 
 design, which otherwise has but little of Wren's style 
 or feeling about it, consists of a basement, in which, right
 
 THE RECORDING ANGELS. 
 
 (From a photograph by Mr. F. Hollyer of the Cartoon by Sir William Richmond for the 
 Mosaic in the Apse of St. Paul's.)
 
 WREN'S ST. PAUL'S. 183 
 
 and left, are two small doorways leading into the apse 
 behind. The basement would have bad a better effect if it 
 had been very plain, but of beautiful or costly material, — 
 porphyry, for example, or some rare marble. As it is, 
 the unmeaning row of panels only wearies the eyes, and 
 deprives the whole structure of such dignity aa it might 
 otherwise have boasted. On the summit of the niche, 
 some eighty feet from the ground, is a fine figure of the 
 " Risen Saviour." The gates leading right and left into 
 the aisles are of beautiful design, and will repay close 
 examination. Two of them were in the old choir screen, 
 but the westernmost at either side were imitated from 
 them. The old work was made of charcoal-smelted 
 iron, from Kent and Sussex, and the new is of iron from 
 Norway, where this method of smelting is still in use. 
 Wren found a skilful designer in iron, named Jean Tijou, 
 whose work is well known, and has already been mentioned. 
 
 The great railing and gates at the west end of the 
 church were cast at Lamberhurst, in Sussex. Their fate 
 was detailed by the late Dr. Sparrow Simpson in his 
 " St. Paul's and Old City Life " (p. 257). When the gates 
 were removed in 1874, together with about one hundred 
 and twenty feet of the railing, they were sold by public 
 auction for £349 5s. They were placed on board a ship 
 called the Delta for transport to Canada. The Delta 
 was wrecked on the American coast in November, 1874. 
 A portion of the railing was, however, recovered, and 
 was bought by John G. Howard, an architect at Toronto, 
 to which city he presented a public park. When he died, 
 the railing was put round his tomb in the park. 
 
 Although this portion of the railing was removed— 
 a manifest improvement to the western view— plenty 
 remains to show what it was like. Among the local 
 traditions is one that tells us that Wren had a house close
 
 184 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 to the Thames, on the southern bank, from which he 
 could afar off watch his rising dome ; and to this house 
 the railing from Lamberhurst was floated in sections, being 
 conveyed as it was required to the Cathedral precincts. 
 It weighed in all about 200 tons, and cost £11,000. 
 
 We now come to the last, most ambitious, and, so far 
 as we can yet judge, the most successful of the many 
 attempts at decorating St. Paul's. While Messrs. Bodley 
 and Garner were at work on the reredos, they recom- 
 mended that the committee should consult Mr. William 
 Blake Richmond, A.R.A. Mr. Richmond, who has since 
 become a Royal Academician and a Knight of the Bath, 
 had made a careful and critical study of the mosaics at 
 Ravenna, and he recommended that the bold method 
 of the ancient artists should be adopted rather than the 
 smoother modern work, such as we see under the dome. 
 Furthermore, he made the committee an offer so dis- 
 interested and self-sacrificing that we read of it with 
 astonishment. He offered to provide suitable designs 
 and to superintend the work for three years, ending in 
 1894. " The arrangement," says the present Bishop of 
 London, " recalls some of the most artistic periods of the 
 Middle Ages." 
 
 Sir William Richmond's scheme was very carefully 
 thought out, and he specially stipulated that the mosaic 
 should be made under his own supervision by Messrs. 
 Powell, of Whitefriars. He worked at it personally, 
 and, so far as can be judged, has been most successful. 
 The roof of the choir and of the apse now glows with colour 
 and gold, great care having been taken not to introduce 
 proportions which can in any way interfere with those 
 of the building. The English mosaic has proved to be 
 exactly what was wanted, and the result is remarkably 
 satisfactory, fully justifying the confidence reposed by the
 
 WRENS ST. PAUL'S, q . 185 
 
 Dean and Chapter in Sir William's taste and power. 
 " The brilliancy of the refracting surface of mosaic work," 
 says Mr. Gilbertson, " its permanence, its capacity for 
 bearing cleaning without risk of injury, all mark it out 
 as the ideal material for the decoration of London 
 buildings." Sir William has reverted to the ancient way 
 of placing the cubes which compose his pictures. They 
 are separately placed in position upon the wall itself, and 
 are not arranged in the studio and applied in blocks. 
 This method has enabled the artist to judge of the effect 
 at every stage. For example, in the case of the head of 
 the principal Person represented, he re-laid the mosaic 
 seven times before he obtained the exact character he 
 required. 
 
 The " Authorised Guide," or the " Account," written by 
 Bishop Winnington Ingram may be consulted for particu- 
 lars of the design. The figure of our Lord, seated, with 
 uplifted hands, fills the central panel at the extreme east 
 end of the church. It is above life-size, but produces no 
 dwarfing effect, so carefully is the design managed. The 
 Recording Angels, with their accessories, fill the adjoining 
 panels, and below in the stained-glass windows we see the 
 four-and-twenty elders, disposed in three groups of eight 
 each. The rectangular panels, north and south, have 
 historical scenes, and represent, among others, Job, 
 Abraham, Cyrus, and Alexander the Great, together with 
 the Persian and Delphic sybils, exquisitely drawn and 
 brilliantly coloured. The small cupolas of the roof and 
 their pendentives are all works of the highest art in them- 
 selves — pictures, in fact, worthy of the most careful 
 examination. The triangular spaces hold herald angels, 
 somewhat conventionalised, each with an appropriate text 
 inscribed in black. In the cupolas, designed in such a 
 way as to increase the apparent height of each dome,
 
 186 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 are the days of the creation of beasts, fishes, and birds, 
 while the rectangular panels represent Adam, Eve, 
 Melchizedek, and Noah. Mere description fails, and we 
 may diverge to mention the gorgeous harmony, the golden 
 glow, the way in which everything has been subordi- 
 nated to the artist's obvious desire to enhance the size 
 as well as the beauty of the whole building. As a matter 
 of minor importance, it may be mentioned here that 
 anyono who visits St. Paul's, armed with a good glass, 
 will be astonished by the exquisite loveliness of the faces 
 of the angels, and, in particular, of the sybils. The face 
 of the Persian sybil may be singled out as an example, 
 in this respect, of the highest pictorial art of our day.
 
 1S7 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 TWO RIVERSIDE PALACES. 
 
 The Savoy Palace and the Hospital — The Ohapel — Thomas Fnller 
 — His Epitaph — His Ministry at the Savoy — Follows the 
 King to Oxford — A Royal Chaplain — His Last Sermon — 
 Northumberland House — The Percys and their Fortunes — 
 The Interior of Northumberland House— Its Ugliness and 
 Inconvenience — The Site, and what was done with it. 
 
 People may pass along the crowded and busy Strand, 
 some of them for years, without any acquaintance with 
 the quiet little church, surrounded by green grass and trees, 
 which hides itself behind the rows of dingy houses. When 
 the mob under Wat Tyler broke into the Savoy, rich palace 
 of John of Gaunt, they burnt the greater part of the build- 
 ings, if not the whole. They may have spared the chapel ; 
 but if they did, it has not been recorded, and but for the 
 fact that during the hundred and twenty years in which 
 the site lay desolate some burials took place here, we 
 should have nothing to go upon in concluding that any 
 part of the chapel, in which very probably Wycliffe may 
 have ministered, still remained. When Henry VIII., in 
 obedience to the dying commands of his father, rebuilt 
 the Savoy as a Hospital, he put it on record that he re- 
 built it from the foundation ; and there is nothing in the 
 masonry or mouldings of the architecture to lead us to 
 any conclusion but what this would indicate.
 
 
 
 188 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 The chapel was consecrated in or before 1516, but its 
 history as a London church, strictly speaking, does not 
 begin until the following reign. The Protector Somerset 
 has been often found fault with for pulling down the church 
 of St. Mary-le-Strand, but since the congregation took refuge 
 at the Savoy Chapel, and since this double employment, 
 both as the chapel of a collegiate foundation and as the 
 church of a parish, led to its being connected with some 
 remarkable men and some memorable events, and perhaps 
 also saved the chapel from utter ruin, those who are 
 interested in it do not regret the connection. The 
 parishioners of St. Mary's elected a chaplain for them- 
 selves, and, by the permission of the Master of the Hospital, 
 he preached and ministered in this chapel. Some famous 
 men held the office of Master, and some famous men that 
 also of chaplain, but of them all no name now stands 
 out so prominently as that of Thomas Fuller, who held 
 the chaplaincy in the first year of the reign of Charles II. 
 
 As the quaint epitaph on his monument at Cranford 
 states, he spent his life making others immortal, and 
 thereby attained immortality himself ; a sentence which 
 is true of him in a double sense, for though the reference 
 is there first to his great work, the " Worthies of England," 
 it also holds good of the work he performed as a clergy- 
 man, and especially of that part of his work which was 
 performed in the Savoy, and among the predecessors of 
 the congregation which still assembles where he for the last 
 time preached the gospel of peace. 
 
 Born in 1G08, Thomas Fuller was in the prime of life 
 when the great troubles of the Civil War broke upon 
 his country. He lived one year only after the Restoration, 
 and died at the comparatively early age of fifty-three. 
 His career was thus passed among events and trials 
 suihcient to make most men partisans, and to agitate the
 
 CO 
 
 >- 
 O 
 > 
 < 
 
 CO 
 
 < 
 > 
 O 
 DC 
 
 _l 
 LU 
 0. 
 < 
 
 I 
 
 o 
 
 O

 
 TWO RIVERSIDE PALACES. 189 
 
 most even temperaments. But it is Fuller's greatest 
 praise that, living in the midst of strife, he took no part 
 in it ; that nothing shook his faith ; that no employment 
 caused him to deviate from the strict path of duty ; that 
 the end of his labours was to spread abroad the knowledge 
 of truth, to comfort the fatherless and the widow, to show 
 the cheerfulness of an undaunted Clmstian spirit, and to 
 make all men know the possibility of moderation, when 
 passion and prejudice were the ruling powers. What 
 his faith was may be learnt from the quaint sentence he 
 has put into one of his epigrams. It refers to his own 
 name, and is a fair specimen of the solemn play on words 
 in which he so much delighted. It is headed " A 
 Prayer " : — 
 
 " My Soul is stained with a dusty colour — 
 Let thy Son be the sope, I'll be the Fuller." 
 
 And elsewhere, speaking of his infirmities being known 
 to God, he says, most devoutly, " As for other stains and 
 spots upon my soul, I hope that He (be it spoken without 
 the least verbal reflection), who is the Fuller's sope, Mai. 
 iii. 2, will scour them forth with His merit, that I may 
 appear clean by God's mercy." And when asked to make 
 an epitaph for himself, it is said that he humbly replied, 
 " Let it be, ' Here lies Fuller's earth.' " 
 
 Fuller began his ministrations in the Savoy in the 
 year 1641, and he remained here at first for three years. 
 He was in London, therefore, in the most exciting times ; 
 and his preaching was thought so much of that it was 
 said he had two congregations, one within the church, 
 and the other consisting of those who could not get in, 
 but crowded about the windows and doors to get within 
 reach of his voice. It is possibly in reference to the hour- 
 glass in the pulpit here that he says, speaking of another
 
 190 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 preacher, Dr. Holds worth, that " whereas the London 
 people honour their pastors for a short hour, his was 
 measured by a large glass " : a sentence which may well 
 be applied to his own preaching. He used his influence 
 not in adding to the violence of party feeling, which then 
 ran so high, but in endeavouring by all means in his power 
 to make peace among the contending factions ; and among 
 the sermons of his which are still extant there is one, 
 preached here with this aim in December, 1642, just 
 as the terrible war broke out. He chose for his text 
 the words, " Blessed are the peacemakers," and said, 
 " We used to end our sermons with a blessing : Christ 
 begins His with the beatitudes ; and of the eight my text 
 is neither the last nor the least." The best work, he says, 
 is peace-making, and the best wages, that they who make 
 peace are " blessed." Advocating peace, then, he is care- 
 ful to be moderate even in this, refusing to ask for peace 
 at any price, but peace without any sacrifice of truth. 
 Yet the sword, he says, is the worst way of finding truth, 
 for " it cannot discern between truth, error, and falsehood ; 
 it may have two edges, but it hath never an eye." 
 
 Toward the middle of 1643, Fuller was forced to fly 
 from the Savoy. He did so with the utmost regret, 
 following King Charles to Oxford. His last sermon 
 preached in this church before his departure is still 
 extant, and prefixed to it is an epistle " to my dear parish, 
 St. Mary, Savoy," full of touching allusions to his sorrow 
 at leaving it, and his hope that peace might at length 
 return. " The longer," he says, " I see this war, the less 
 I like it, and the more I loath it. Not so much because 
 it threatens temporal ruin to our kingdom, as because it 
 will bring a general spritual hardness of hearts. And 
 if^this war long continues, we may be affected for the 
 departure of Charity as the Ephesians were at the going
 
 TWO RIVERSIDE PALACES. 191 
 
 away of St. Paul, sorrowing most of all that we shall see 
 the' : face^thereof no more." 
 
 Fuller followed the King's army to the field, and en- 
 deavoured to do w r hat he could to succour the wounded 
 and comfort the dying. Another preacher took pos- 
 session of his pulpit here, and he himself, like many of 
 the clergy of his time, when the war w T as over, wandered 
 from one place to another, patronised by moderate men, 
 and loved by all. He says : " For the first five years 
 during our actual civil wars, I had little list or leisure 
 to write, fearing to be made a history, and shifting daily 
 for my safety. All that time I could not live to study, 
 but did only study to live." Yet during this time he 
 projected and in part composed his works, the " Church 
 History " and the " Worthies of England " ; the latter, 
 however, not being finished till just before his death. 
 In 1645 he came back to the Savoy for a time, but his 
 own flock was dispersed by the troubles, and it was said of 
 him, as of his Divine Master, " He came to his own, and 
 his own received him not." The few who remained 
 were overawed by the factions which divided London, 
 and were in daily fear between the Presbyterians and the 
 Independents. Yet he preferred a London congregation 
 to any other, for he said that some clergymen wished for a 
 Lincolnshire church, as best built, and others for a Lan- 
 cashire parish, as the largest, but he liked a London 
 audience, as consisting of the most intelligent people. 
 He did not stay here long, however. He would not give 
 up the Liturgy, and the penalties for using it were fixed 
 that very year at £5 for the first offence, £10 for the 
 second, and a year's imprisonment for the third. He w r as, 
 therefore, thrown on his own resources, and his means 
 were very small, and wholly insufficient for the support 
 of himself and the education of his son. Brighter days
 
 
 192 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 were in store, and he was allowed to remain unmolested 
 as Vicar of Waltham, and afterwards as Hector of Cran 
 ford .until the Restoration, when we find him again at 
 the Savoy. 
 
 Fuller's second return to the Savoy at the Restoration 
 was marked by such a welcome as few preachers have ever 
 been accorded. His sermons, in which he had formerly 
 endeavoured to preserve peace, now that the war was over 
 were directed to the mitigation of the cruelties of the 
 party in power. Their influence is mentioned by many 
 of his contemporaries, and among others by Pepys the 
 diarist. Witty as all his utterances were, they were always 
 within bounds. As his biographer says, his wit is all 
 but invariably allied to wisdom, " and very few would rise 
 from the perusal of his pulpit utterances with a feeling 
 that they had been in the company of one who was ir- 
 reverent or undevout." Craik said of him, in his " History 
 of English Literature," that " there is probably neither 
 an ill-natured nor a profane witticism in all that Fuller 
 has written." He was strongly of opinion that sermons 
 should be short, and in his account of an ideal " Faithful 
 Minister," he speaks of him as " one who makes not that 
 wearisome which should ever be welcome " ; adding, in 
 his quaint way, an anecdote of a certain professor, " who 
 being to expound the prophet Esay to his auditors, read 
 twenty-one years on the first chapter, and yet finished 
 it not." 
 
 And now we come to the close. Fuller was made, 
 without solicitation, a Royal Chaplain, and prepared a 
 sermon to preach at court. But it was otherwise ordered. 
 Before the day appointed for its delivery the preacher 
 had left the pulpit for ever. A greater King had sum- 
 moned him. On the 12th of August, 1661, being Sunday, 
 he preached in the Savoy. It was for the last time. He
 
 
 CHAPEL ROYAL, SAVOY, BEFORE THE FIRE, 1864. 
 {From a photograph by Poitlton, in the possession of Messrs. Stalman & Co.)
 
 
 
 

 
 TWO RIVERSIDE PALACES. 193 
 
 felt unwell, and his friends would have kept him from 
 making the exertion. But a member of the congregation 
 was to be married on the following day, Monday, and 
 Fuller lovingly undertook to wish the wedding couple 
 well in a special sermon, a good custom which still obtains 
 in the Savoy. He said he " had often gone into the pulpit 
 sick, but always came down well, and he hoped he should 
 do as well now by God's strengthening grace." Before he 
 began, he told his congregation he felt ill, but by a strong 
 exertion he got through, and, as his biographer records, 
 " he very pertinently concluded." A christening was to 
 have followed, and he would have made an effort to officiate, 
 but the fever had now r taken its hold. He was carried 
 from the church half fainting, and, being taken to his 
 lodgings close by, he was put to his bed, and never rose 
 from it again. So Monday and Tuesday passed, and 
 on Wednesday he was much worse. He had been in- 
 sensible, but as his strength abated his senses returned. 
 Many friends stood round him. He begged them to 
 pray for him, and joined fervently with them, " recom 
 mending himself/ with all humble thankfulness and sub- 
 mission, to God's welcome Providence." He would not, 
 as the last scene drew near, allow anyone to weep. He 
 begged them to restrain themselves, to refrain from tears, 
 and spoke of his departure as a translation to a happy 
 eternity. Though he had before counselled men to make 
 their wills early in life, " that so, when they came to die," 
 they might " have nothing to do but to die," he had made 
 no will himself, having probably little to leave. And 
 now he refused to be disturbed by any thought of worldly 
 affairs. Even the book by which his name has chiefly 
 lived, and which was still unpublished, he did not speak 
 of at all. His thoughts were all engaged on the world 
 to which he was hastening. No regret for the career 
 
 N
 
 194 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 which had so lately been re-opened to him — no sorrow 
 for the loss of the bishopric to which he was already 
 designated — nothing but love to those around him, and 
 hope of the heaven before him. One more night he 
 lived, and on the morning of Thursday, the 18th, passed 
 away in peace ; and so, as his biographer says, " The last 
 view of the faithful minister represents him as assuming, 
 in place of the lawn of the Prelate, the shining raiment, 
 exceeding white as snow, so as no fuller on earth can white 
 it : a whiteness mixed with no shadow ; a light dimmed 
 with no darkness." 
 
 Of all the riverside palaces, Essex, Arundel, Somerset, 
 the Savoy, Burleigh, Buckingham, and other houses, 
 Northumberland House survived longest. It was one 
 of the latest in date, and one of the least beautiful in 
 architecture, yet most of us were sorry that the designs 
 for making a new street on its site could not have included 
 the preservation of the old gate, the oriel above, and the 
 straight-tailed lion of the Percys over all. No reason, 
 except that destructive passion which seizes all public 
 boards, such as cathedral chapters, parochial vestries, 
 municipal councils and offices of works, at intervals, was 
 assigned for their removal, and it cannot truthfully be 
 asserted that anything beautiful has been placed on the 
 site. 
 
 If ever a building could be said to have put its best 
 foot first, it was this. The centre of the Strand front, 
 and the turrets at either end, were all that was beautiful 
 or interesting in the whole house. After them, any 
 enthusiasm which might have been felt for its preserva- 
 tion had to depend on the historical, sentimental, and 
 archeeological associations of the place, though they are 
 but meagre. , The fact that Northumberland House is
 
 TWO RIVERSIDE PALACES. 195 
 
 the last of a row of palaces which once began at Baynard's 
 Castle, in the City, and ended at Westminster Hall, gave 
 it a claim to our regard. Within the walls one or two 
 remarkable events took place, and General Monk here 
 held some of his meetings with the Royalists before the 
 restoration of Charles II. And the plan, which was of 
 the type known in France as entre cour et jardin, became 
 almost extinct among us with the demolition of the building. 
 It would not be easy to say any more than this in its favour. 
 It was as ugly, as inconvenient, and probably as uncom- 
 fortable a family residence as any in London. Many 
 people were by no means convinced of the expediency of 
 removing it ; and it may be thought that the public did 
 not gain materially by the sacrifice. It must be remem- 
 bered that not only did we take away a relic of antiquity 
 with a fair amount of historical interest attaching to it, 
 but we did so at the expense of half a million of money ; 
 and no very commendable design for utilising the site 
 acquired at such an expense both of feeling and of cash 
 was substituted. 
 
 There is little to tell about the history of the building. 
 Only the street front towards the Strand bore any traces 
 of the work of Bernard Janson or Gerard Christmas, 
 and even this was altered and not improved. It had 
 over the oriel the initials and badges of Algernon Seymour, 
 who was Duke of Somerset for fourteen months, from 
 1748 to 1750, and who had inherited the representation 
 of the Percys on the death of his mother some hve-and- 
 twenty years before. His daughter, Lady Elizabeth 
 Smithson, carried on the reparation and alteration of the 
 house in conjunction with her husband, who was the 
 first Duke of Northumberland of the present family. 
 In their time probably the corner turrets were lowered 
 to the height they had before the demolition. Towards
 
 196 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 the end of the eighteenth century any marks of antiquity 
 remaining were carefully wiped off the exterior, and a fire 
 a few years later completed the transformation of the 
 interior. 
 
 The side next the Strand had originally an open- 
 work parapet, formed of the letters of a motto, probably 
 that of the busy and scheming Henry Howard, Surrey's 
 second son, who was Earl of Northampton during ten 
 years before 1614, and who built the house. A letter 
 fell down in 1619, during the passage of the funeral of 
 Queen Anne of Denmark from Somerset House, and killed 
 a bystander, for which reason the other letters were re- 
 moved. At least, so runs the story, with the impossible 
 addition that it was the letter S from Esperance en Dieu ; 
 how the Percy motto came on the parapet more than 
 twenty years before the Percys themselves came into the 
 house, we are not informed. In fact, to judge from a letter 
 quoted in a Report of the Historical Manuscripts Com- 
 mission, the family had no town house at this time, for 
 one of them writes in 1623 to Lord Middlesex to excuse 
 himself from calling on him, because he has no house 
 nearer town than Syon. There is some difficulty, too, 
 in the received accounts of the descent of Northampton 
 House, first to Suffolk and then to Northumberland. 
 Mr. Craik expressly states that the Earl who built it gave 
 it as a New Year's gift to his grandnephew, the second 
 Earl of Suffolk ; but it is not easy to believe that North- 
 ampton did anything so generous except for a consideration. 
 Lord Suffolk again gave it away. Perhaps it was a kind 
 of white elephant. It must have always been expensive 
 to keep up. But Suffolk's son-in-law was well able to 
 make use of the gift. From his time it is identified with 
 the fortunes of the Percys, and during the Commonwealth 
 and afterwards was the scene of many of those dubious
 
 r\4jA rv*v v 
 
 
 
 /W\>C-v" 
 
 NORTHUMBERLAND HOUSE, CHARING CROSS. 
 (from Malton's Print, 1795.) 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■

 
 TWO RIVERSIDE PALACES 197 
 
 but apparently successful efforts which the tenth Earl 
 made for keeping himself in power under any form 
 of government. His granddaughter, the wife of the 
 " Proud " Duke of Somerset, and the favourite of Queen 
 Anne, is immortalised as much by Swift's hatred as by 
 her strange history and great possessions. It was when 
 the Irish Dean lampooned her for her red hair, warning 
 England to beware of carrots from Northumberland, 
 and accusing the Duchess of complicity in the murder 
 of her second husband, the victim of Konigsmark, that 
 he cut himself off for ever from all chances of a seat on 
 the bench of Bishops. 
 
 Northumberland House must have been singularly 
 unsuited to the requirements of family life at the present 
 day. The street front was practically separated from 
 the rest of the house, and contained at least two uncon- 
 nected residences. The rest of the house resembled an H 
 in plan. The cross-bar was formed by an entrance-hall 
 or corridor, with some reception rooms towards the garden. 
 This was said to have been originally built by Inigo Jones, 
 but it retained no traces of his handiwork. Two wings 
 at the back partly enclosed the garden, that on the west 
 containing a great gallery upwards of a hundred feet 
 in length, but badly lighted ; the east wing consisted 
 only of offices. There was a low wall beyond the garden 
 towards the Embankment, but the view over the river 
 was neither extensive nor attractive, its chief feature being 
 the dome of Bedlam, which rose conspicuously in the 
 background, flanked by tall chimneys. Bedlam, by the 
 way, has travelled nearly all round Charing Cross. It 
 stood three centuries ago near the site of the present 
 National Gallery, whence it migrated to Bishopsgate, and 
 at last went across the river and settled down exactly 
 opposite its original station.
 
 198 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 The garden of Northumberland House, owing to the 
 slope of the ground, was at a much lower level than the 
 Strand front, and had the cheerful and verdant appearance 
 of other London gardens where the grass has grown long 
 and rank, and only half covers the naked clay below, while 
 the trees were miserably stunted and black with smoke. 
 The great staircase stood to the left of the entrance. It 
 probably supplanted an older, and possibly a more pictur- 
 esque, structure on the same site, under Janson's turret, 
 but for a long time it had been the best feature of the 
 house. Yet, costly as was the ormolu balustrade, and 
 handsome as were the marble steps and pilasters, they 
 were not much more substantial than the ornaments of 
 the other parts of the house, in which stucco, gilding, 
 and scagliola were the chief ingredients in a magnificent 
 effect. 
 
 When the walls were covered with tapestry or 
 pictures, and especially when the floors were occupied with 
 people, all must have looked very different. At Knole 
 or Haddon the architectural features which would dis- 
 appear with the furniture might not be very great ; the 
 windows, the oaken floors, the panelled walls, the groined 
 roofs would still remain. In Northumberland House 
 there was nothing of this kind— nothing, in fact, but 
 what might be expected when we read that at the 
 beginning of the last century a very general repair took 
 place. Successive architects, including, it is true, many of 
 eminence, had managed to reduce it hi two hundred and 
 fifty years to an extreme of ugliness seldom, if ever, 
 equalled even in London. So many cooks never perhaps 
 before more completely ruined a pudding. And nothing 
 could have improved it. The faulty arrangement by 
 which the best rooms were hidden from the sun, which 
 must have shone chiefly on the offices and seldom on the
 
 TWO RIVERSIDE PALACES. 199 
 
 inhabited parts ; the absence of those conveniences of 
 hot air and water which arc now to be found in the most 
 humble dwellings ; the interminable length of corridors 
 and passages ; the want of concentration ; the suites of 
 apartments which opened only out of one another, and 
 were therefore almost useless for the purposes of modern 
 life — all these things must have made Northumberland 
 House a singularly disagreeable residence, notwithstanding 
 its great dignity. 
 
 The change when it was swept away was very great, 
 but the difficulties of making a good use of the site proved 
 insuperable. The surveyors and architects of the time, 
 some forty years ago, were unequal to it. The slope to 
 the Embankment would have admitted of very pictur- 
 esque treatment. With Trafalgar Square for a back- 
 ground, a skilful designer— an Inigo Jones— would have 
 given London something to be proud of, something to 
 transform and brighten a dismal neighbourhood. Where 
 Northumberland House alone survived to tell in our 
 time of the glories of the day of riverside palaces, we 
 have a gloomy street of clubs and inns, and not one 
 front worthy to recall even the old doorway, with its arch 
 and its oriel and its lion.
 
 200 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 GUILDFORD. 
 
 Guildford's Domestic Architecture, Ancient and Modern— Trinity 
 Church— Pepys at Guildford—" The Bull Inn " : a Ludicrous 
 Blunder— Origin of Guildford's Name— The Castle and its 
 Associations — Abbot's Hospital— The Abbot Brothers— What 
 the "Restorer" has done at Guildford. 
 
 There are few fairer views in England than those wliich 
 comprise the town of Guildford, on its two hills, with its 
 river winding through the valley between. The name of 
 the place is enough in itself to suggest all kinds of interest- 
 ing historical questions , and the splendid situation, the 
 antiquity of some of the architectural features, and the 
 beauty of others, are enough to add association and pic- 
 turesqueness to the many attractions of Guildford to the 
 visitor. It does not seem to have been noticed even in 
 the guide books that Guildford is remarkably well off in 
 good examples of domestic architecture ; and besides old 
 houses, it has a Norman castle, three very fine churches, 
 one mediaeval, one in the best style of the 18th century, 
 and one modern, to say nothing of St. Katharine's ruined 
 chapel in the outskirts. Abbot's Hospital and the Town 
 Hall are enough, without the castle or the churches, to 
 make the place famous among architectural students ; 
 andUt is surprising how little has been done to illustrate 
 a place so easily accessible from London. People go to
 
 OTIILDFORD. 201 
 
 Gloucester or to Tewkesbury to look at patterns of domestic 
 architecture, while Guildford is too near to be visible. 
 There are some gabled cottages with high-railed steps, 
 such as artists go to the Continent to sketch, in Park 
 Street, close to the railway station. By the way, is it 
 not strange that with so much worthy of imitation close 
 by, such a building as that same railway station should 
 have been erected to disfigure the old town ? Unfor- 
 tunately, similar buildings by the score are displacing the 
 old houses. The cottages in Park Street will soon, no 
 doubt, share the fate of their neighbours. 
 
 Of a totally different character is a brewery close to 
 the bridge, a plain, simple, well-proportioned red-brick 
 house, such as Wren might have designed, with its little 
 pediment and its deep cornice. Up the hill also, toward 
 the west, there are one or two similar houses, but not 
 quite so good ; and across the bridge, on the same side 
 of the way, there is, at the corner of Friary Street, 
 a remnant of what must once have been a very 
 beautiful building, in the best " Queen Anne " style. 
 The upper part still remains, and shows a deep cornice 
 and carved capitals, but the lower part has been cut 
 away for a shop-front. Turning aside into Quarry 
 Street, and passing the truncated apse of the old church, 
 said to have been pulled down to let the Prince Regent's 
 carriage pass on his way to Brighton, we come on the 
 right to two small houses, which were originally only one, 
 with curious plaster-work decorations, cross-mullioned 
 windows, a carved wooden cornice, and other signs of age. 
 They probably date from the time of Charles II., but 
 nearly opposite, at the castle gate, is a much older house, 
 with a bow window and an archway of Gothic form 
 adjoining. This house, which has been turned into 
 a library and museum by a local antiquarian sooiety,
 
 202 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 dates from the time of James I., and replaces the still older 
 Norman gatehouse, of which the buttresses still remain. 
 Of Gothic fragments, besides St. Mary's Church and 
 St. Katharine's Chapel, Guildford has a good store. The 
 castle is dilapidated, but there is a fine crypt under the 
 " Angel " inn, and I believe another on the southern side 
 of the street. The Pointed style still flickers in the chapel 
 window of Abbot's Hospital, and also in the Grammar 
 School. 
 
 But the prettiest buildings are modern. I confess 
 to a great admiration for Trinity Church, which is simple 
 and dignified, and admirably suited to its purpose. The 
 wide span of the flat ceiling, and the abundant light which 
 pours through the arched windows, make the church a 
 very good one in which to see and hear, as well as to worship. 
 The iron railing towards the street should be studied, 
 with its initials and dates. The contrast between Trinity 
 and St. Mary's, with its curious vaulted side chapels and 
 dim saints painted on the roof, is very striking, and even 
 emblematic. When St. Nicholas, on the western bank 
 of the Wey, was rebuilt a few years ago, it was made to 
 imitate — at a respectable distance — the old church of 
 St. Mary, with its dark aisles and general inconvenience, 
 instead of the light, wholesome, airy, and convenient 
 Holy Trinity ; such are the aberrations of popular taste. 
 In the Surrey guide book, written, I believe, by the late 
 John Timbs, we read that Holy Trinity is " an ugly red- 
 brick building, though of late somewhat redeemed by the 
 removal of three forlorn clipped yews, and laying out the 
 churchyard in cemetery style." By the way, some very 
 charming old houses are at the back of the same cemetery, 
 and the view from the top of the hill above should not be 
 missed. 
 
 The prettiest houses in the High Streetjire not^the
 
 I- 
 
 </> 
 
 LLI 
 
 o 
 
 z 
 
 o 
 o 
 
 D 
 CC 
 O 
 IL 
 Q 
 _l 
 
 5 
 a 
 
 h 
 
 LU 
 LU 
 CC 
 
 H 
 
 CO 
 
 I 
 
 LU 
 
 I 
 I-
 
 GUILDFORD. 203 
 
 oldest. In May, 1661, Pepys passed through Guildford 
 on his way from Portsmouth, and slept " at the ' Red 
 Lyon,' the best inne, and lay in the room the King lately 
 lay in." He visited the Hospital and the school, and 
 was " civilly treated by the Mayster." He mentions 
 Guildford and the " Red Lion," which still exists, on several 
 other occasions, and in 1GG8 tells us of showing his wife 
 " and Deb " Archbishop Abbot's Hospital, and his monu- 
 ment in Holy Trinity Church, and the rest of the tombs 
 there, of which he remarks that they "are kept mighty 
 clean and neat, with curtains before them." This church 
 was rebuilt in 1763, but, contrary to the practice of modern 
 " restorers," the monuments were scrupulously respected. 
 The Town Hall is not mentioned by Pepys, and probably 
 did not exist in his time, though much of it may be older 
 than 1683, the date on the clock. It is greatly disfigured 
 by a hideous business-house, which has been built up 
 against it, blocking out the view from the east. A few 
 doors above the Town Hall is a pretty house, No. 25. 
 It is of timber, painted white, and appears to date from 
 the reign of Charles I., or thereabouts. The design is 
 semi-classical, with flat pilasters between the beautiful 
 cross-mull ioned windows. Mr. Bull, the fortunate pro- 
 prietor of this lovely dwelling, takes worthy care of it ; but 
 I find it described in an American publication as " The Bull 
 Inn " ! There is some pretty festoon work over the very 
 correct Classical porch of No. 29, and on the opposite 
 side of the street four houses, Nos. 125 to 128, form a 
 very pleasing group. The " White Hart " has been re- 
 fronted, but dates from the times of the Stuarts, and 
 there are remains of a handsome Jacobean gateway and 
 some very ancient houses in the courtyard. A good 
 specimen of " Queen Anne " is a little beyond the 
 Grammar School, and another dated 1731, long after
 
 204 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Queen Anne's death, in North Street. But I cannot 
 enumerate half the houses which make G uildford a museum 
 of domestic architecture. 
 
 Perhaps the most interesting thing in the history 
 of the town is its name. Guildford is mentioned in the 
 will of King Alfred, so that we may assume that Guilds 
 were known as far back as his time. The high road 
 from London here passes through a gap in the hills. As 
 Mr. Clark has well put it in his " Medieval Military 
 Architecture," the great chalk ridge which forms the 
 bulwark of London, and the southern limit of the Thames 
 Valley, though generally unbroken from Reigate to 
 Farnham, is traversed by two gorges about twelve miles 
 apart, that of the Mole at Dorking and that of the Wey 
 at Guildford. The greater part of the modern town is 
 on the eastern side of the river ; but there are indications 
 in the local names that ancientlv it was not so, and the 
 building of the castle, probably in the reign of Henry II., 
 may have attracted the inhabitants from the opposite 
 bank. 
 
 The chief thoroughfare, the High Street, is continued 
 across the bridge, and thus exists on both sides of the 
 river, a rare example. After the death of Ethelwald, 
 King Alfred's nephew, to whom he had bequeathed 
 " Gyldford," it reverted to the Crown, and so continued 
 for some seven centuries, when James I. gave the castle 
 to Francis Carter. The town had been, in great part 
 at least, built on various private properties, and was often 
 reckoned the county town of Surrev. The wild downs 
 which surrounded it, and the park, on the western bank 
 of the Wey, were no doubt a great attraction to the 
 Norman kings. Henry III. also visited Guildford fre- 
 quently, and we read of a great extension and repair of 
 the castle accommodation in his time, of apartments built
 
 • iUlLDFORD. 205 
 
 for his son, afterwards Edward I., and of paintings executed 
 in the hall, to wit, opposite the King's seat, " The Story 
 of Dives and Lazarus," and also, on the seat itself, " a 
 certain figure with beasts," probably heraldic. Latterly 
 the c«istle became a kind of county gaol for Sussex as well 
 as Surrey. It plays no further part in history until 
 James I. gave it away ; and after passing through various 
 hands, and becoming sadly dilapidated, it was sold in 
 1885 to the Corporation of Guildford for £2,000, and 
 is now arranged, as Kochester Castle has been, for the 
 recreation of the people of the town. It occupies a 
 natural platform of about six acres, but little is left except 
 the walls of the Keep, a rare example of a square tower 
 on an artificial mound. 
 
 The town in 1336 was granted by King Edward III. 
 to the Corporation " in fee farm," and was thenceforth 
 free, and owing to its admirable position grew in wealth 
 and extent. It has still a largely attended grain and cattle 
 market, and a whole quarter of new villas has grown 
 up on the eastern heights. Abbot's Hospital is very I 
 conspicuous, and, with a very fine monument in the church ! 
 opposite, keeps alive the memory of the three brothers, 
 sons of a clothworker in the town, who rose to be respec- 
 tively Archbishop of Canterbury, Bishop of Salisbury, 
 and Lord Mayor of London, in the early years of the 
 17th century. It is often said that the Archbishop built 
 the Hospital as an expiation for having accidentally killed 
 a keeper while hunting deer in Bramshill Park. But 
 the dates will not fit. The hospital was founded in 1617 ; 
 the accident occurred on Tuesday, the 24th of July, 1621. 
 The Archbishop was much distressed at what he had 
 done, and retired here to the hospital for a time, and then 
 to one of his country seats ; and on the 22nd of November 
 in the same year had a formal pardon from King James.
 
 206 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 But ever after he fasted on Tuesday, though he lived 
 until August, 1633. The upper chamber of the entrance 
 gateway was the temporary prison of Monmouth on his 
 way from Sedgemoor to the scaffold in 1685. 
 
 There are some pretty old-fashioned rooms in the 
 hospital, which should be seen, but they seem to be some- 
 what neglected and out of repair ; and, indeed, the whole 
 place looked to me rather poorly kept and poverty-stricken. 
 The Hall and Council Chamber of the Town Hall also 
 ought to be visited. They are both pleasing, and a 
 chimney-piece, brought from an old house in the neigh- 
 bourhood, is ornamented with curious allegorical figures 
 and carving of a date earlier than the building itself. 
 It is certainly not reassuring as to the revival of art in 
 England to find that the successors of the burghers who 
 built the Hospital and the Town Hall in the seventeenth 
 century, and Trinity Church in the eighteenth, built the 
 Court House and the Railway Station in the nineteenth. 
 
 Much has been written and asserted as to some curious 
 excavations in the chalk near the castle. All kinds of 
 silly theories have been started about them, but they 
 are probably nothing but quarries, and may well be held 
 to give a name to Quarry Street, which leads to them. 
 t The two destructive agencies, " restoration " and 
 rebuilding, are very rife at Guildford, and the present 
 taste of the inhabitants being sometimes doubtful, as I 
 have said, I strongly recommend everyone who likes 
 to see old houses to go there soon. It was only in 1864 
 that Abbot's birthplace was pulled down ; and its fate 
 is very little worse than that of a number of houses which 
 have been " improved." Mr. Norman Shaw has designed 
 a few villas on the western lull and near St. Katharine's, 
 so that the builders of the ludeous new houses on the 
 opposite heights have the less excuse. But if anyone
 
 Q 
 DC 
 O 
 U. 
 Q 
 _l 
 
 5 
 o 
 
 < 
 h 
 
 0- 
 
 w 
 O 
 
 I 
 
 (/) 
 h 
 O 
 
 OJ 
 CO 
 
 < 
 
 o 
 o 
 oc 
 
 LU 
 LU 
 
 s 
 o 
 o

 
 GUILDFORD. 207 
 
 thinks that the agitation against so-called " restora- 
 tion" is exaggerated, he has only to walk out eastward — 
 a most enchanting walk for fine landscape — and see 
 Merrow. First, there is an old inn, the " Horse and 
 Groom," which dates, or dated, from 1G21, but has been 
 terribly pulled about of late, and has few ancient features 
 left. Close to it is the site of Merrow Church, a building 
 famous for its beauty of situation and antiquity. Under 
 the name of " restoration" it has been almost rebuilt, and 
 really only dates from 1874. Very few ancient or peculiar 
 features have been preserved ; but even a " restorer " has 
 not been able to spoil the fine views in many different 
 directions, or to deprive a visitor of the feeling of exhilara- 
 tion imparted by the elevation of the landscape and the 
 freshness of the air. 
 

 
 208 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 '•'tapestry at st. james's." 
 
 The Hospital of St. James — Henry VIII.'s Hunting Lodge — 
 The Hospital Converted into a Nunnery — Prince Henry — 
 Charles I.'s Last Night — St. James's After the Restoration — 
 The " Warming Pan " Plot— The Lutheran Chapel— The 
 Chapel Royal — Death of Queen Caroline — Wedding of 
 George III. and the Princess Charlotte — Baptism of 
 George IV. — A Service in the Chapel Royal. 
 
 " Mr. Hilyard has told me," said Dorothy Forster, " of 
 the famous tapestry which he has seen in the Palace of 
 St. James." When the other day I read these words 
 in Sir Walter Besant's delightful novel, I tried to recall 
 to myself the tapestry I once saw " in the Palace of St. 
 James." But, think as I would, the subjects escaped 
 me ; and the style, and the stitch, and the period, and 
 the preservation, and — hi short, I had forgotten all about 
 it, except that the sight of it set me thinking of the con- 
 nected but not related events which have taken place 
 within these old walls, events which, however faded and 
 obscure they have all become now, are still so sharply 
 separated from each other that though the pictures, 
 like pieces of old tapestry, are hardly visible, there is no 
 difficulty in tracing the boundary of the frames. 
 
 Take this piece, for instance, so like Millais's " Vale 
 of Rest," done in wool : a long rising slope of green
 
 "tapestry at st. james's." 209 
 
 grass, a few dark yew trees, a red brick wall, a low belfry, 
 and a shed-like building — all in the background. In the 
 foreground, a group of sad women, pale and sickly, in 
 black dresses, and an old priest in a cassock, with a short, 
 ragged surplice, who walks slowly, while the women carry 
 a long bundle sewn up in sackcloth, and passing out of 
 a porch at one side, climb the slope and lay their burden 
 to rest near the belfry under the yews. We cannot hear 
 the quavering voice of the old man ; we cannot hear the 
 dirge the sisters sing at the grave, for though tapestry 
 may sigh in the wind, it tells us nothing so definite. These 
 are the lepers, the fourteen poor sisters for whom the 
 Hospital of St. James was founded, as far back, possibly, 
 as the reign of Henry I. Hemy III. rebuilt their house. 
 Hemy VI. placed it under the supervision of Eton College. 
 Henry VIII. suppressed it in 1532, exchanging the site 
 with the Eton authorities for a manor in Suffolk. The 
 invalid sisters were pensioned off ; their chapel, their 
 gardens, and the graves of their predecessors soon dis- 
 appeared, and within a few years Henry had laid out as a 
 park the marsh which intervened between St. James's 
 and Whitehall, had built himself a small house where 
 he might retire occasionally from the cares of State, and 
 had left no memory of the nuns except the name of the 
 saint to whom their hospital was dedicated. Another 
 shadowy tapestry might show us the tall, stout figure 
 of the imperious Henry, with the pale, unattractive face 
 of the German princess, his queen for a few months, 
 beside him. In the old Presence Chamber, fitted up, 
 among others, for the newly wedded pah', may still be 
 seen, lovingly entwined together, the initials of Henry 
 and Anne of Cleves. 
 
 Thomas Cromwell and Hans Holbein were probably 
 concerned together in making the old nunnery into a 
 o
 
 210 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 palace on this occasion. Events followed each other 
 rapidly. In January, 1540 (old style 1539) the marriage 
 took place. In April Cromwell was made Earl of Essex ; 
 in July he was beheaded and the queen was divorced. 
 In August Henry married again. These dates will not 
 fit with the popular attribution of the H. and A. of 
 the decorations to Henry and Anne Boleyn. 
 
 Another Henry figures, but not very clearly, on these 
 old walls. He is tall and straight, young and strong, 
 " and by his demeanour," as says a contemporary biographer, 
 " seemed like a king, even whilst he was a prince only." 
 A prince only he was destined to remain, for whether a 
 kind fate took him away from the evil which came upon 
 his brother, or whether, if he had lived, that evil might 
 have been wholly averted, we cannot say now, for he died 
 at St. James's on the 6th of November, 1612. There 
 may have been something of his great grand-uncle in him. 
 We see his broad forehead and his piercing grey eye, his 
 " terrible frown," as well as his majestic countenance and 
 gracious smile. But the picture has faded, and exists no 
 longer except in the imagination. 
 
 A clearer portrait may come out of an adjoining panel. 
 I seldom walk through St. James's Park towards the 
 Horse Guards without a thought of that cold and dismal 
 morning in January, 1649, when Charles sat down for a 
 moment — it must have been near where the cows used 
 to stand — and pointed out a tree his elder brother 
 Henry had planted. Hood, in an exquisite little poem, 
 
 remembered that 
 
 " Where my brother set 
 The laburnum on his birthday 
 The tree is living yet." 
 
 Is the tree living yet which Henry Prince of Wales 
 had set? Did some such thought as Hood has here
 
 "TAPESTRY AT ST. JAMES'S." 211 
 
 put into words cross the mind of Charles ? Before the 
 short winter's daylight had departed, the tree, wherever 
 it stood, had survived both the brothers. Charles had 
 arrived at St. James's Palace on the 19th of January 
 under the charge of Colonel Harrison, who delivered him 
 to Colonel Tomlinson. He had not been at St. James's 
 for years, and his apartments — we are not told where they 
 were situated — had been hastily prepared for his reception 
 " by Mr. Kinnersley, a servant of his Majesty, belonging 
 to the wardrobe." It was in the bedroom, the night 
 before his execution, that Herbert, his faithful attendant, 
 who slept on a pallet at the King's feet, had that strange 
 dream, or vision, when Archbishop Laud (beheaded on 
 Tower Hill on the 10th of January, four years before) 
 appeared to him, as if to warn him of the tragedy to be 
 enacted on the morrow. 
 
 A vignette in Pepys' Diary shows us St. James's 
 under the monarchy of the Restoration. The German 
 Chapel close to Marlborough House is now separated from 
 St. James's Palace by the roadway which crosses the site 
 of the apartments burnt in 1809. When Charles II. 
 married Katherine of Braganza the Portuguese Govern- 
 ment stipulated for a chapel in which she could worship 
 after the manner of her people. The " Friary," as it 
 was popularly called, was accordingly established in the 
 garden east of the palace ; and the buildings, of which 
 only the transformed chapel remains, were completed by 
 1667. Pepys went into one of the cells — " a very pretty 
 little room, very clean, hung with pictures, and set with 
 books." He describes the inhabitant of the apartment — 
 with his hair shirt, his hard bed, his cord about his middle 
 — but concludes that, " in so good company, living with 
 ease, I thought it a very good life." He peeps into the 
 kitehen, " where a good neck of mutton at the fire," and
 
 212 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 admires the library 7 . " Their windows all looking into a 
 fine garden and the park, and mighty pretty rooms all. 
 I wished myself one of the Capuchins." Later on the 
 same chapel was assigned to French Protestant refugees, 
 and in 1781 was given to the German Lutherans, who 
 from the time of Prince George of Denmark had been 
 permitted to worship in the palace. 
 
 The fire of 1809 consumed the scene, real or supposed, 
 of the " Warming-pan Plot," which so greatly agitated 
 the minds of our ancestors some two hundred years ago. 
 The Queen of James II. was living in the royal apartments 
 at " the east end of the south front." These apartments 
 must have been close to the Friary Court and the chapel. 
 Bishop Burnet was firmly convinced that the plot existed, 
 but whether it was a plot to palm off a child upon the 
 nation as the son and heir of the King, or only to do so 
 in case the Queen's infant proved to be a daughter, we 
 are not informed. Such parts of this corner of the palace 
 as were not burnt in 1809 were pulled down in 1822, 
 the " Old Bedchamber " among them, but Pyne preserves 
 a view. It contained both tapestry and pictures, and a 
 private door near the head of the bed led to a secret stair. 
 Altogether we cannot wonder at the suspicions of the people. 
 
 This Lutheran chapel is by no means to be confounded 
 with the Chapel Royal, of which Holbein is sometimes 
 said to have painted the ceiling for Henry VIII. The 
 German Chapel is not, strictly speaking, within the Palace 
 now. It is nearer Marlborough House. This was the 
 residence which Wren built for the great Duke and 
 his Duchess, on ground given by Queen Anne for the 
 purpose. Wren himself was married in the older, or 
 Royal Chapel, to his second wife, the Honourable Jane 
 Fitzwilliam, in 1676. But many weddings of great folk 
 and christenings of princes and princesses have taken
 
 HI 
 
 o 
 < 
 
 J 
 
 < 
 
 D. 
 
 CO 
 CO 
 UJ 
 
 CO 
 
 I ? 
 
 o * 
 
 UJ .« 
 
 o g 
 
 z £' 
 
 UJ 
 
 CO S 
 
 UJ £ 
 
 DC t, 
 
 CO 
 
 b 
 
 z 
 
 UJ 
 
 I 
 I-
 
 "TAPESTRY AT ST. JAMEsVy 218 
 
 place here in the course^of ages, and many royal ^person - 
 ages have died in the palace. Let me conclude these 
 vignettes with an example of each kind. 
 
 The brave Queen of George II., Caroline of Brandenburg- 
 Anspach, who made Walpole's Ministry possible, and who 
 laid out Kensington Gardens, to mention two of her claims 
 on the gratitude of posterity, died at St. James's on Sunday, 
 the 20th of November, 1737. She had built herself a library 
 in the garden, and after a visit to it and a walk, fell suddenly 
 ill, when it turned out that she had long suffered from a 
 painful malady, but that for fear of being prevented from 
 fulfilling her duties to her husband and his people, she 
 had never allowed any complaint to escape her. For the 
 piece of tapestry in which is woven the last interview of the 
 King and Queen, the sobbing husband and the forgiving 
 wife, and for the kindly intentioned but brutal vow with 
 which he tried to soothe her last moments, see Thackeray, 
 in his " Lectures on the Four Georges." It is said that, 
 stupid and sensual as he was, after her death George 
 borrowed a portrait of her, which he thought more like 
 her than any of his own, from one of hia attendants, and 
 wept beside it for hours. 
 
 Here is a royal wedding at the Court of St. James's. 
 This is a piece which Mr. Hilyard can never have seen, 
 for when the young George III. ascended the throne the 
 " fifteen " and the " forty-live " were both over long ago, 
 and no one openly disputed his title. In the following 
 year he married, by the advice of the Council, Charlotte of 
 Mecklenburg-Strelitz, a princess whom he had never seen 
 before. She travelled over from Germany, a little plain 
 girl, with, perhaps, in her early youth, a face not so un- 
 attractive as it after wards became. When she arrived, 
 one fine September afternoon, at the famous " Court of 
 St. James's," it is related that she turned pale, and, in
 
 214 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 truth, it must have been difficult for her to realise, after 
 all she had heard of the greatness and opulence and mag- 
 nificence of the King who had chosen her for his bride, 
 when she came to the low, irregular pile of bricks, without 
 any architectural features except those then known 
 throughout Europe as barbarous, Vandalic, or Gothic, 
 that, though her bridegroom was so great, and so young, 
 and so handsome, he literally had not a palace in which 
 any other king in Christendom would have lived at the 
 time. Windsor was little more than a picturesque ruin ; 
 Kew was a mere private lodge ; Whitehall had been burnt 
 more than sixty years before and never rebuilt ; the 
 old palace of Westminster was wholly occupied by the 
 Parliament ; and the young couple had to " begin house- 
 keeping " in St. James's. Buckingham House, at the 
 other end of the Park, was afterwards settled on the 
 Queen. 
 
 Here is a royal christening. Ten or eleven months 
 after the little Queen first saw her magnificent King 
 and his shabby house, the son who was destined to figure 
 so largely in history as " the Prince Kegent " was born and 
 baptised at St. James's, and before he was twelve days old 
 the hope of the nation was solemnly laid out in his plumed 
 cradle and exhibited to the public on drawing-room days 
 from one o'clock to three. 
 
 I have attempted no detailed account of St. James's 
 Palace. The place is almost too familiar to Londoners, 
 and, though it is shabby and old and not very convenient, 
 one would be sorry to see it pulled down or even altered. 
 It is a monument of the days when England was more 
 remarkable for large subsidies than for fine palaces, and 
 it has been the scene of some of the greatest events in our 
 history. I have mentioned only a few, but I cannot 
 conclude without one more. It is too late, too modern,
 
 "TAPESTRY AT ST. J AMES V 215 
 
 to figure on tapestry, though it is full sixty years 
 old ; but in a book on " London Interiors," published 
 and dedicated to Queen Victoria in 1841, there is a view 
 of the chapel of St. James's Palace during the performance 
 of divine service, soon after the Queen's marriage with 
 Prince Albert. It was drawn by T. H. Shepherd, who 
 could draw correctly enough sometimes. But, though 
 her late Majesty was, like Queen Elizabeth, of moderate 
 height, and though the lamented Prince was very little 
 taller, and though the royal gallery is in the background 
 of the picture, the gigantic figures of the Queen and her 
 husband dwarf everything else in the view. Perhaps 
 Shepherd considered that they were both at the time 
 very young and might grow, and so gave them the benefit 
 of the doubt !
 
 216 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 CAMBERWELL. 
 
 When Camberwell was a Pleasant Village — The Parish Registers 
 — Curious Names — Camberwell's Modern Associations— Its 
 Antiquities — St. Thomas-a-Watering — The Name. 
 
 A few years ago Camberwell was in the country, but a 
 child born there last week would assuredly be a Londoner, 
 if not a Cockney. Yet Jowett of Balliol, or Browning 
 the poet, both of whom first saw light at Camberwell, 
 are by no means to be called Londoners, nor is Mr. 
 Joseph Chamberlain, of Birmingham, whose father lived 
 in the parish at the time of his birth, in 1836. 
 
 In the middle of the last century Harrison speaks of 
 it as a very pleasant village of a rather straggling form ; 
 and another writer says of it, in 1761, that it is a pleasant 
 village in Surrey, two miles from Southwark. It retains 
 a good deal of its pleasantness, for, though much nearer 
 the City than such crowded places as Peckham, Deptford, 
 Stratford, or Kentish Town, it has much still left of the 
 greenness which distinguished it when an aloe flowered 
 in Lord Trevor's garden a hundred and forty years ago, 
 and when, nearly a century earlier, Evelyn wrote of it 
 that it had a fine prospect through the meadows to London. 
 The Green has been well preserved, and the Grove is still 
 bordered with handsome trees. But every year the open 
 space is encroached upon, and there are few localities more
 
 CAMBERWELL. 217 
 
 crowded now than the site of Lord Trevor's house. The 
 increase of the population in these districts has been some- 
 thing enormous. Whether because the parish had a good 
 name for healthiness, though for the most part lying very 
 low, or for some other reason, the London people have 
 crowded into it in larger numbers than into any other 
 parish on that side of the river. There were only three 
 thousand houses in Camberwell, and less than 18,000 
 people, in 1821. Three hundred years ago the average 
 number of births registered in ten years was twenty- 
 three, and the deaths twenty-six. The present popula- 
 tion approaches a quarter of a million. 
 
 The church registers began in 1558, and are full of 
 curious notes, as are the churchwardens' accounts. The 
 registrar of the time of Charles II. introduced a new 
 and, so far as we can remember, a unique feature into 
 the book in his charge, for the margins are decorated 
 with lively sketches in pen-and-ink. Under 1684 we 
 find the names of three people " touched ,: by Charles, 
 probably at Sir Thomas Bond's house, afterwards Lord 
 Trevor's, but the entries make no note of the subse- 
 quent history of the patients, a girl and two boys. 
 Among the names in the register in 1784 is that of 
 a Mr. Ono Tichener, who is said to have come by his 
 Christian name in a curious way. The sponsors at his 
 christening mistook the officiating clergyman's question 
 " Name this child," and one of them answering " Oh 
 no," the " too impetuous parson " went on at once, 
 " Ono, I baptise thee," etc. Another odd name is " Sence." 
 It occurs as early as 1550, when Mathew Draper married 
 Sence Blackwell. In 1571 it is varied into " Saintes," 
 but for the most part it is written Sence, and it occurs 
 half a dozen times with dill'erent surnames. One his- 
 torian of Camberwell supposes it to be a corruption
 
 218 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 of Cynthia ; another conjectures that it represents a moral 
 quality, like Mercy or Prudence. This is probable, and 
 Machyn in his " Diary " gives the name as Sens. In the 
 will of Elizabeth Basingdon, in 1544 (though the names 
 are not of a kind to be found in the church register), the 
 testator bequeaths a herd of cows, which belonged to her 
 and pastured in Camberwell meadows. They are men- 
 tioned in couples : " ij kyne namyd wevyll and bleache " 
 head the list, which also contains these not always 
 intelligible names : Leictyn, Sareone, Lytell Gayrle, Blacke 
 Nan, Pykhorne, Browne, Gret Garll, Litell Cheare, Lele, 
 and Threbygs. 
 
 The chief associations of Camberwell are of a very 
 modern kind. The church, designed by Sir Gilbert 
 Scott while he was in partnership with Moffatt, was opened 
 in 1844, and is one of the largest built since the Gothic 
 revival. The Crystal Palace stands partly within the 
 parish. The gorgeous brickwork of the new Dulwich 
 College was for some years one of the most important 
 modern buildings of its class in England ; while the 
 whole question of the old College, and the contentions 
 which have arisen out of Alleyn's will, have given birth 
 to a literature, in the form of blue-books, pamphlets, and 
 newspaper articles, which would fill a moderate library. 
 Mr. Blanch, who wrote a history of the parish in 1875, 
 devotes sixty pages of his book, and forty pages of appendix 
 besides, to what he calls in the preface a slight sketch, 
 disproportionately brief. 
 
 But Camberwell has antiquities too. If the Crystal 
 Palace is atone end of the parish, St. Thorn as-a- Watering 
 is at the other— a place which not only claims to have 
 been mentioned by Chaucer — 
 
 " And forth we riden a litel more than pasa, 
 Unto the waterynge of seint Thomas" —
 
 CAMBERWELL. 219 
 
 but also to have been the scene of nearly as many historical 
 executions as Tyburn. There is a reference to a loving 
 letter from Lady Egerton to her husband in the " Egerton 
 Papers." In it mention is made of the inclosure of an 
 account of the death of Franklin, one of the minor accom- 
 plices in the murder of Overbury, and a postscript adds, 
 " My La. commends her love to you, and commandes me 
 to tell that Frankelen dyd geve the hangman a bockes 
 of the eare afore he was hanged." The inclosure describes 
 a scene not unworthy of a puppet show : " The hangman 
 came to him and offered to put the rope about his neck, 
 but he took it out of his hand and strived to put it about 
 the hangman's necke, and laughed in doing it ; then he 
 stood upright and stretched himself, and gave money to 
 everyone that begged of him." This bold criminal was 
 watched with great interest, as the common folk hoped 
 he would betray some of his accomplices ; but though 
 asked by the chaplain to speak to the people, he refused. 
 " I'll testimony nothing," he answered, when appealed to 
 for a word as to the justice of his sentence. He refused 
 to pray, " but would often use this word in Latin, Non 
 sum, quod fui, for he sayd he had in his tyme raysed upp 
 thirtye spirits at a tyme." This forerunner of some 
 of our modern spiritualists was hanged on the 9th of 
 December, 1615. 
 
 The site of St. Thomas-a-Watering is marked by 
 St. Thomas's Road, one of the new streets leading 
 out of the Old Kent Road. Landmarks are rapidly 
 obliterated so near London, and it would be difficult now 
 in passing along the crowded street to form even the 
 slightest conception of what it was like when the Canter- 
 bury Pilgrims rode out from Southwark. The highway 
 which suited pedestrians and equestrians would not suit 
 cabs and omnibuses, and particularly tramways, all of
 
 220 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 which now ? traverse" the^ Old Kent Road. But even 
 omnibuses have their antiquities, and some people may 
 sigh for the time when passengers by Mr. Shillibeer's 
 vehicles were provided gratuitously with newspapers. 
 
 The name was long spelt Cammerwell, Camerwell, 
 and even Cam well. In Domesday it is Ca'brewelle. 
 But a very few more years will suffice to remove from 
 Camberwell all traces of the time when it was a " pleasant 
 village," when the Camberwell Beauty roved through 
 gardens and orchards, and when a twopenny church rate 
 only produced £22 12s. 3d. Already an unbroken street 
 reaches from London Bridge to Camberwell Church, 
 and with only two or three intervening fields on to Green- 
 wich itself. The trees and fields disappear day by day. 
 The gardens of Sydenham Hill form a pleasing oasis, but 
 Dulwich has been surrounded, and the tide of brick and 
 mortar climbs rapidly up the slope to Norwood. The three 
 hundred and fifty feet elevation of which it boasts cannot 
 protect it, any more than the four hundred and thirty 
 of Hampstead protected it. Heme Hill and Denmark 
 Hill were open in Ruskin's time, but are being let in 
 plots on building leases now. Where the town is to end 
 no one can tell, but nothing can restore the old features 
 of the countrv over which the houses have once grown 
 up. The acquisition of Brockwell Park, a wide expanse 
 of hill and dale, studded with old trees and command- 
 ing views in all directions, is a happy event in the 
 recent history of Camberwell.
 
 221 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 TIIE GUILDHALL. 
 
 What was a Guild Merchant P — The Old Guildhall in Aldermanbnry 
 —The New Guildhall— The Hustings— The Monuments- 
 Elections of Kings — Trial of Queen Jane— Royal Visits — The 
 Library — The Museum — The Art Gallery — The Council 
 Chamber — The Records — The Real Centre of the City. 
 
 No one seems able to tell us what a Guild Merchant is. 
 We know that when, about the time of the Conquest, a 
 little earlier and a little later, guilds existed among the 
 merchants of an English city, one of these guilds had 
 more to do with the government of that city than 
 others had. Or, to put it differently, most of the guilds 
 consisted of members of a single trade : the central or 
 governing guild included, according to some authorities, 
 members of all. But it is precisely here that information 
 fails us. We have scanty records of a contemporary 
 character relating to the guilds in the eleventh century. 
 We have none of the tenth century, except the mere fact 
 that they existed. In the twelfth we have some items, 
 and in the thirteenth some more ; but it is still open to 
 argument whether or not the above statement is correct, 
 for there is very early evidence to the effect that, in London 
 at least, the governing guild consisted of men who were 
 not in trade and did not belong to any ordinary guild, 
 but formed an oligarchy of wealthy families, many of
 
 222 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 whom were aldermen ; and that, while they did admit 
 to their number a few merchants, they were for the most 
 part more like squires, lords of manors, or prebendaries 
 of cathedral churches of the Old Foundation, such as 
 St. Paul's. One thing they had in common, according 
 to this view, namely, an estate, called the Portsoken in 
 London, and by other names in Oxford, Winchester, or 
 other cities. It is only by good-tempered support of one 
 theory at a time that we may hope to arrive at truth ; 
 and so far, though a disposition to dogmatism without 
 sufficient knowledge has been shown alternately on one 
 side and the other, we are gradually, I hope, accumulating 
 small items of evidence which will enable the facts to be 
 seen in their true light. 
 
 All religious guilds were abolished, as we have seen 
 (p. 88), by Act of Parliament in the reign of Edward VI., 
 and their property was confiscated. The only guilds 
 which were not religious were those known as guilds 
 merchant. Some guilds merchant had patron saints, 
 and after the passing of the Act they got into trouble 
 on account of estates which had been " devoted to super- 
 stitious uses." We do not hear anything of this kind 
 about London. The guild merchant itself, in London, 
 is a very mysterious body, of which we hear very little 
 in history, and nothing distinctly. One thing about it 
 is, however, very tangible. The Guildhall still exists. 
 If there is a Guildhall there must have been a guild ; and 
 that guild, being the governing body of the city, may not 
 necessarily have been religious. In fact the first mention 
 we have of the Guildhall certainly does not show it in a 
 strictly religious character. Giraldus Cambrensis, writing 
 in the reign of King Henry II., says somewhat enigmatically 
 that the Guildhall is so called on account of the resort 
 to it of drinkers. What does that mean ? Apparently,
 
 THE CHAPEL, GUILDHALL YARD (p. 225). 
 
 (From Schnebbelie's View, 1815.)
 
 THE GUILDHALL. 223 
 
 the custom of guilds to meet at stated intervals for " butt 
 filling " and for " mutual pledging," as well as for religious 
 exercise, was in his mind. The chief men of the city, 
 the aldermen, " majores natu," had been accustomed to 
 assemble for civic business in Aldermanbury, where, as 
 the word " bury " seems to imply, they had a house to 
 which they could resort, and where, after they had taken 
 counsel, they could adjourn to their municipal hall and 
 pledge each other as in an ordinary guild. But, in truth, 
 we have no contemporary account of these meetings. 
 
 After a time, perhaps in the reign of Henry III., the 
 old Aldermanbury hall became too small for them. A 
 great deal of public business of importance had to be 
 transacted, and the appointment of a recorder shows that 
 records had begun to be made and to be preserved. In 
 fact, from the reign of Edward I. there is no break in 
 the continuity of the London records. A new Guildhall 
 became necessary. Its crypt, in part, still remains, and 
 shows early workmanship ; and by a curious chance we 
 are able to tell with considerable certainty both that it 
 was smaller than the present Guildhall, and also how 
 much smaller it was. The boundaries of the City wards 
 were defined about the same time, and it was arranged 
 that though the new Guildhall stood well back from the 
 market place, it, with a street leading to it, should be in 
 the ward of Cheap. At its western end it abutted on the 
 old Guildhall in Aldermanbury, and when the hall was 
 rebuilt by Whittington and his executors in the fifteenth 
 century, the eastern end was prolonged beyond the ward 
 boundary and beyond the beautiful early crypt. All 
 the additions to the modern buildings have been made 
 in the same way, and at present the hall is in Cheap and 
 Bassishaw, and the Library and New Council Chamber 
 and offices are some in Cripplegate and some in Bassishaw.
 
 224 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 It is not very easy to determine exactly where the first 
 Guildhall stood, but it was probably on a site now or lately 
 covered by the town clerk's and architect's offices on the 
 western side, and extending quite to the street called 
 Aldermanbury. 
 
 The governing guild of London, then, assembled in 
 its Guildhall as early as the reign of Henry II., and if 
 a governing guild now exists, it consists of the Common 
 Council, the Aldermen, and the Lord Mayor of the City. 
 True, their name has been changed, and so has their 
 constitution. The guild no longer consists of the Alder- 
 men and their portreeve, one of their own body. In 1189 
 at the earliest, and certainly before 1193, the portreeve 
 became the mayor ; and a few years later, namely, in 
 1200, there were chosen twenty-five "of the more discreet 
 men of the city " to take counsel with the Mayor and 
 the Aldermen. This Council has been gradually enlarged, 
 and alongside of it we see a second Council, that of the 
 livery, or members of the Companies,* who assemble in 
 common hall. As, practically, every one who wishes to 
 take part in City affairs belongs to a Company, the interests 
 of the two bodies are virtually the same. 
 
 We have yet to notice one other assembly of 
 citizens which is connected with the Guildhall. Tliis is 
 the hustings. The word is familiar enough. It is com- 
 mon when elections are going on, and at such times it is 
 used all over England. Yet, when we look into it, we 
 observe that it is not, strictly speaking, an English word. 
 It is Scandinavian, Danish perhaps. It is one of a small 
 number of words which are relics among us of the great 
 Danish conquest of England in the tenth century. In 
 other towns and cities the great assembly of the free men 
 of the place is the " portmannimote." That is an English 
 ♦ See Chapter VIH., p. 88.
 
 THE GUILDHALL. 225 
 
 word, strange and unaccustomed as it may sound to modern 
 ears. But in London what would have been called the 
 " portmannimote " anywhere else was called the hustings. 
 In Iceland, the great Council of the people is, or was lately, 
 the " Hus-thing," the assembly of the House. In English 
 " Hus " enters into the composition of a great many words, 
 some of them obsolete. We speak of husband and hus- 
 bandry ; of housewife, or hussif, or hussey ; and our 
 ancestors had " hus-carl " and other common expressions. 
 The assembling of all the citizens of London was 
 the hustings, and in some respects the hustings court 
 of London was in the early Middle Ages the most 
 powerful body in the City. To it was the ultimate 
 appeal from the acts of the governing guild, the 
 Mayor, Aldermen, and Common Council. The word 
 * hus " in hustings was conjectured by Mr. Price to refer 
 to the civil and domestic matters brought before it ; and 
 Mr. Coote translated it into " the domestic judicatory." 
 These derivations at least show the objects and jurisdiction 
 of the hustings ; and the civic wills proved before it form 
 a large and most interesting collection, which has been 
 printed for the benefit of future historians by Dr. Sharpe, 
 of the Town Clerk's office. By degrees legislation has 
 deprived the hustings of most of its functions, but on 
 certain occasions it still assembles on the dais at the east 
 end of the Guildhall, as it did in the days of Chaucer, 
 who mentions it. Other courts have always sat at the 
 Guildhall, some of them of very modern origin ; and the 
 new offices to the north and north-west of the original 
 hall are as great an ornament to the City as those charm- 
 ingly incongruous buildings the Guildhall Chapel and 
 Backwell Hall, which once, not so very long ago, con- 
 fronted St. Laurence's Church, now, besides the Guild- 
 hall itself, the only architectural feature of a little square
 
 226 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 which must at one time have been as picturesque as any 
 of the kind in England. 
 
 The Guildhall, as it is now, presents some of those 
 mixtures of style and incongruities which seem in them- 
 selves to impart picturesqueness to a building, and which 
 are the objects of an almost personal animosity to the 
 average architect. The lamented Sir Horace Jones was 
 not one of these. He improved the building, but was 
 always mindful of its history. The Stuart Gothic with 
 which Jarman refaced it after some injury in the Great 
 Fire was not destroyed ; the Georgian monuments with 
 their classical details were not swept out of the hall ; even 
 the ridiculous giants, about which so much rubbish has 
 been written, were not disestablished. But the new roof, 
 with its fine brown beams, and the stained glass in the 
 windows — some of it very good — are comparatively new. 
 The last of these windows was presented by the late 
 John T. Bedford, a member of the Common Council, to 
 commemorate the opening and presentation of Epping 
 Forest by the Corporation of London, one of the most 
 splendid gifts ever made to the public. 
 
 The monuments which are ranged along the sides 
 of the hall are of more interest than is generally the case 
 with objects of this kind. They were all put up in times 
 of great civic emotion, so to speak. Each of them repre- 
 sents some phase or mood of popular excitement, for the 
 City of London has always been in the van of progress, 
 and has led the way in every reform which has been for 
 the real benefit of the nation. The monuments are 
 five in number. The first is to the memory of William 
 Beckford, who died in 1770 in his second mayoralty. 
 Beckford asserted the rights of the citizens against certain 
 high-handed proceedings of George III., and a speech 
 which he is said to have made to the King is inscribed
 
 THE OLD COUNCIL CHAMBER, GUILDHALL 
 
 (From Ackermann's "Microcosm," 1808.)
 
 THE GUILDHALL. 227 
 
 on the pedestal. There are two versions of this speech 
 extant, and this one is said to have been written by John 
 Uorne Tooke. Whether Beckford really delivered it or 
 not does not greatly matter. He attended at Court to 
 remonstrate, and the speech shows the object of the 
 remonstrance. The monument is by a sculptor called 
 Moore, and cost £1,300. The second monument in the 
 Guildhall is to Chatham, by John Bacon, Ii.A., and the 
 third to Pitt, his son, by J. G. Bubb. Wellington appears 
 between Peace and War, sculptured by Bell. Nelson 
 is commemorated by an elaborate allegorical group, 
 referring to his victories and death, by James Smith. 
 
 The earliest of the great public; ceremonials which 
 we can associate with the present Guildhall was the recep- 
 tion given to Henry V. after the Battle of Agincourt, in 
 1415. The election, or attempted election, of Bichard III. 
 was held at the Guildhall in 1483. By this time the 
 hall must have been nearly, if not quite finished. Bucking- 
 ham endeavoured in vain to rouse the spirit of the citizens 
 in favour of his master. But Edward IV. had been 
 very popular with them, and they would not be persuaded 
 to desert the cause of his children. It is curious to observe 
 what importance was attached to a formal election of a 
 King by the citizens of London, and Buckingham's singular 
 threat, that the Lords and Commons would take the matter 
 out of their. hands, should be noted. It is not mentioned 
 in Shakespeare's Richard III., where Buckingham reports 
 his speech to Richard (Act hi., scene vii.). 
 
 The reign of Queen Mary was marked by two events 
 in the Guildhall, the reception of the Queen after Wyatt's 
 rebellion, in 1553, when many of the citizens fled, 
 fearing her vengeance ; and, on the 12th of November, 
 the trial of Jane Grey, her husband, her brothers-in-law, 
 and Archbishop Cranmer, before the Lord Mayor, the
 
 228 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Lord Steward, and a number of high officials, when all 
 the prisoners were condemned to death. They walked 
 through the streets from the Tower on foot, and went 
 back again, together. 
 
 One other historical event must also be mentioned 
 before we come to modern times. In 1688, when the 
 flight of James II. had left England without a King, the 
 peers, who happened to be in London, and other high 
 officials, assembled at the Guildhall to take measures for 
 the public safety. Archbishop Sancroft took the chair, 
 though the Lord Mayor was present and had welcomed 
 the Lords as they arrived. Lord Mayor Chapman was 
 certainly not equal to the occasion. A more capable 
 man would have taken the lead in that and all the sub- 
 sequent movements ; but there can be no doubt that this 
 memorable meeting at the Guildhall, and the offer of the 
 Crown, and of money to support it, which the City made 
 to William of Orange, determined the course of the 
 Revolution. 
 
 Of late years there have been many Royal visits to the 
 Guildhall, and the famous entertainment given to Queen 
 Victoria on her accession is not forgotten, nor the still 
 more splendid ball after the opening of the Great Exhibition 
 in 1851. On this occasion the beautiful crypt was used 
 as a supper room. 
 
 It should be mentioned that the Guildhall is one hundred 
 and fifty-three feet long, and fifty wide. The Library 
 is in a very handsome chamber east of the hall, and is 
 approached by a passage which leads out of the old porch. 
 The books include many old manuscripts of interest 
 which were in the possession of the Corporation at 
 the time of the opening in 1828, and have been 
 largely supplemented by the gifts of rarities of litera- 
 ture which citizens have made. This is by no means
 
 J 
 
 _l 
 < 
 
 I 
 
 Q 
 
 -J 
 
 D 
 O 
 
 of 
 
 LU 
 
 CO 
 
 < 
 I 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 z 
 
 D 
 
 o 
 o 
 
 LL! 
 
 LU 
 
 I
 

 
 THE GUILDHALL. 229 
 
 the first library the Corporation has had : for Whit- 
 tington opened a collection of books at the Guildhall, 
 which might have subsisted here still, only that Somerset, 
 the Protector of Edward VI., " borrowed " them all and 
 never returned them. There were only ten thousand 
 volumes in the library in 1840, but by 1859 there were 
 thirty thousand, and in 1869 the collection had grown so 
 greatly that it was thought desirable to erect the present 
 commodious building, which contains upwards of one 
 hundred and fifty thousand volumes. Among its treasures 
 is a document bearing the very rare signature of William 
 Shakespeare. Oddly enough, it is so written that it 
 throws little or no light on the orthography of the name. 
 
 A staircase close to the library leads to the Museum, 
 also an institution of modern growth. It is particularly 
 rich in Roman remains found in London, though in respect 
 of works of art of that period it must yield to the British 
 Museum. But a fine tesselated pavement found in Buck- 
 lersbury, near the course of the Wallbrook, is probably 
 unequalled elsewhere in England, and many other relics 
 found in the same neighbourhood more recently are also 
 in the collection. There are, too, mediaeval remains, 
 such as the sign of the Boar's Head Tavern from East 
 Cheap, and some modern relics and curiosities, including 
 a fine collection of watches. 
 
 Besides the Library and the Museum there is now an 
 Art Gallery connected with the Guildhall. It occupies 
 the chamber in which, before the erection of the new 
 Law Courts at Temple Bar, City cases were heard before 
 the Court of Queen's Bench. It was built in 1822 on the 
 site of the old Guildhall Chapel. The recent free exhibitions 
 of loan collections of pictures have made this gallery famous. 
 
 The last of the Guildhall buildings is the new Council 
 Chamber. It lies to the north of the great hall, and east
 
 230 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 of the passage or lobby. It lias none of the historical 
 associations of the old chamber, which was on the other 
 side of the passage. It is adorned with busts of great men, 
 and is handsomely decorated both with painting and 
 carving. The plan is almost circular, the diameter being 
 about fifty feet. 
 
 The chamber was built with the most astonishing 
 celerity, for the first stone was laid in April, 1883, and the 
 first meeting of the Court of Common Council was held 
 at the beginning of October in the following year. At 
 the eastern side is the Lord Mayor's seat, with a statue 
 of King George III. behind it. The old Chamberlain's 
 Court was built one hundred years ago, and was pulled 
 down in 1882 to make way for this handsome hall. 
 The Chamberlain is a kind of Chancellor of the Exchequer 
 of the City of London, and in the earliest times appears 
 to have been identical with the portreeve or Mayor ; but 
 the offices were divorced from each other during the long 
 suppression of the Mayoralty under Edward I. Besides 
 the Court, the Chamberlain has his office, in which there 
 is a lock-up for refractory apprentices ; and what looks at 
 first sight like a private house near the site of Bridewell 
 is retained as a prison to which now and then an unhappy 
 " printers' devil " is committed. 
 
 There is much else to see at the Guildhall, but the above- 
 mentioned hall and chambers are the most easily accessible. 
 A wonderful gathering of City records is in the Town 
 Clerk's office, and there are some magnificent apartments 
 for aldermen, judges, and others. Very nearly, if not 
 exactly, on the site of the ancient Guildhall, in Alderman- 
 bury, was the School of Music, now removed to the 
 Embankment. 
 
 The documents preserved at the Guildhall are kept 
 in an admirable manner, and carefully indexed. The
 
 VOLUMES OF RECORDS, GUILDHALL 
 {From a photograph by Sir Benjamin Stone, M.P.) 
 
 Photo : London Stereoscopic Co., Urn. 
 
 A CORNER IN THE MUNIMENT ROOM GUILDHALL.
 
 THE GUILDHALL. 231 
 
 Hustings Rolls are the most important, but there are 
 " Remembrancia " and a long series of " Letter Books," 
 so called not because they contain correspondence, but 
 because each is marked with a letter. " Letter Book A " 
 goes back to the time of Edward I. 
 
 Dr. Sharpe gives many interesting examples from the 
 records in his care. For instance, he says (Hustings, p. 
 xlvii.) : " It is curious to trace the fortunes of the widows 
 of some of the testators in this volume, who, being left 
 presumably in good circumstances, sooner or later found 
 second husbands. Thus, in 1314, it is recorded that 
 the widow of John Laurenz, having re-married, desired 
 to marry her daughter of eight years of age, by her first 
 husband, to a child of her second husband, aged ten years. 
 The banns, we are told, had been published, and the 
 trousseau and wedding feast prepared, when the affair 
 got wind, and some friends brought the infant daughter 
 before the authorities at the Guildhall, who placed her for 
 the time being under the care of the City Chamberlain." 
 
 We may next turn to a volume edited by the same in- 
 defatigable authority, which contains a series of " Letters 
 from the Mayor and Corporation of the City of London," 
 beginning as far back as 1350. These papers are by no 
 means so interesting as those mentioned already. They 
 are, on the other hand, of public and political value, and 
 throw much light on the position of London, not only 
 among English cities, but amongst the cities of Europe. 
 The very first we come to is addressed to the people and 
 commonalty of Florence, about an Italian who had seized 
 some property he had undertaken to convey safely to 
 Florence. 
 
 The part played by the Guildhall in the history of the 
 City might well be compared with that which London 
 itself played in the history of England. Since the building
 
 232 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 of a Mansion House, some of the most interesting and 
 memorable of civic gatherings have taken place in it. 
 And we might almost assert that the centre of business 
 activity which, in the Middle Ages, was in Cheap, flanked 
 by Cheapside and the Guildhall, is now transferred to the 
 region occupied by the Bank of England and the Eoyal 
 Exchange. Yet, historically, the Guildhall will always 
 be the centre of the City ; and since it has been found out 
 that the old date of 1415, which used to be assigned to it, 
 is probably at least a couple of centuries too late, it has 
 gained immensely in this kind of interest. The beautiful 
 Early English crypt is almost the only surviving relic 
 of its period in the City. The crypt of St. Mary-le-Bow 
 is Norman. The church of St. Ethelburga, in Bishops- 
 gate, has in it a few lancet windows which may be con- 
 temporary with the Guildhall crypt. It is, therefore, 
 architecturally as well as archoeologically, and artistically 
 as well as historically, a building which many people wish 
 to see, and which brings back to us, by its extreme beauty, 
 the perfection of the Art of the thirteenth century, and 
 enables us to judge for ourselves what, if this was the 
 crypt, must have been the magnificence of the building 
 above. 

 
 < 
 
 I 
 
 D 
 _J 
 
 D 
 O 
 
 LU 
 
 I 
 
 h 
 
 IL 
 
 o 
 
 H 
 Q. 
 
 > 
 
 o
 
 233 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 CANONBURY. 
 
 Canonbury and the Canons of St. Bartholomew — Bolton's Tower— 
 A Great Heiivss — An Elopement— The Tale of a Basket- 
 Lady Compton's Expectations —Literary Associations of Canon- 
 bury. 
 
 A little relic of antiquity, buried among the stucco villas 
 of the great modern suburb of Islington, has been 
 made the subject of a good deal of the guess-work 
 which so often does duty for archaeology. Accord- 
 ing to one eminent authority, Canonbury belonged 
 before the dissolution of the monasteries to the Priory 
 of St. John of Jerusalem at Clerkenwell. The anti- 
 quarians of the daily papers may have access to docu- 
 mentary evidence denied to ordinary students, but so 
 far as the history of the house has been printed — and it 
 happens that a good deal has been printed about it — 
 the Prior of Clerkenwell never had anything to do with 
 Canonbury. It might be thought at first sight that, since 
 Islington was a prebendal manor of St. Paul's, the house 
 or " bury " of the canon would be here. But the estate 
 attached to the stall was situated close to Lower Street, 
 and was sold by the Ecclesiastical Commissioners some 
 years ago. If we look in the Domesday Book we shall 
 be equally at fault. Canonbury is not mentioned. But 
 a certain Hugh de Berneres is spoken of more than once
 
 
 234 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 as holding land under the Bishop of London ; and his 
 estate in Islington has been identified. One of his de- 
 scendants gave a part of it to the Augustinian Canons of 
 St. Bartholomew, and the prior built himself a villa, when, 
 to distinguish the holdings, the original house became 
 known as Berners' Bury, or Barnsbury, and the prior's 
 house as " Canones' Bury " or Canonbury— often, and 
 indeed for a time commonly, pronounced Canbury. The 
 word " bury " generally denotes, in Middlesex at least, 
 a manorial residence. 
 
 The date of the grant is not exactly fixed. It must 
 have been before 1290, as after that year the Act of 
 "Quia ,emptores" would have prevented the priors from 
 making their estate into a manor. It was given to 
 them by Ralph de Berners ; but there were several 
 Ralphs, and it is not easy to distinguish one from an- 
 other. However, there is evidence, which need not be 
 recapitulated here, to show that the canons' benefactor 
 was the grandson of the Domesday tenant, and this would 
 bring the gift to the beginning of the thirteenth century. 
 The Knights of St. Jolm came to Clerkenwell at the be- 
 ginning of the twelfth century, and as it was not the 
 common habit of the religious orders to give up what 
 they once possessed, it follows that if the Lord Prior 
 of Clerkenwell had a villa in Islington, it must have been 
 owing to some very unusual occurrence that we find a 
 canon of St. Bartholomew in possession. 
 
 The tower, all that remains of the old house, which 
 the late Lord Northampton granted to the Islington 
 parochial authorities, presents few architectural features 
 by which its age may be ascertained. An adjoining 
 building had on it the rebus" or device of Prior Bolton, 
 who governed St. Bartholomew's for nearly thirty years 
 in the beginning of the sixteenth century. He may have
 
 CANONBUBY. 235 
 
 built the tower, but the few existing decorations winch 
 remain seem to point rather to the time of Sir John 
 Spencer, the rich Lord Mayor of Queen Elizabeth's reign, 
 whose arms are described as occurring in several places 
 in Canonbury House a hundred years ago. He also lived 
 at Crosby Hall, in the City, but it was from Canonbury 
 that the famous elopement took place which brought 
 Sir John's fabulous wealth to the Comptons. 
 
 The story has been often told, and so highly embellished 
 that it is impossible now to get at the truth. Lord Comp- 
 ton is said to have carried off the fair Elizabeth Spencer 
 in a clothes-basket, as Falstaff was carried to Datchet 
 Mead. Another account describes the young lady as 
 having been let down from the topmost storey of Canon- 
 bury Tower in the clothes-basket. The tale varies ; the 
 clothes-basket, though sometimes described as a bread- 
 basket, is constant. In all folklore tales such points may be 
 observed. The basket figures again at Sir John Spencer's 
 funeral, where three hundred and twenty poor men had 
 each a clothes-basket given him containing a black gown 
 and various other articles of dress, together with a black 
 pudding, a candlestick, and two red herrings. Perhaps 
 the heralds, who assign something very like a basket — 
 but they call it a " beacon " — to the Coinpton family by 
 way of crest, may have been mindful of the legend. Certain 
 it is that the heiress married the Northamptonshire lord, 
 and that in 1009 the alderman's great possessions came 
 to them. 
 
 Here again a pretty story is interpolated. Queen 
 Elizabeth was interested in the young pair. Lord Compton, 
 in fact, was a member of the Privy Council. The Queen 
 took advantage of an opportunity to ask the indignant 
 father-in-law- to join her (J race as sponsor for the child 
 of a couple whose relations had cast them off. The cluld
 
 236 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 was christened " Spencer " after its godfather, who expressed 
 to the Queen his intention, as his daughter had run away 
 from him, of making the infant his heir. The curtain 
 falls on the appropriate and familiar situation, and the 
 " Bless you, my children ! " of the alderman. 
 
 The heiress of Canonbury Tower, with all her wealth, 
 does not seem, however, to have made Lord Compton 
 very happy. The first thing that happened to him on 
 inheriting Sir John's fortune is described in a curious 
 letter among Winwood's collections, from which we gather 
 that, " at the first newes, either through the vehement 
 apprehension of joy for such a plentiful succession, or 
 of carefulness how to take it up and dispose of it," he 
 became " somewhat distracted." And what, asks the 
 writer very pertinently, " shall these thousands and 
 millions avayle him if he come to lose, if not his soul, at 
 least his wits and reason ? " But he eventually recovered, 
 was made an earl by King James, and was Lord Presi- 
 dent of Wales when he died in 1630. 
 
 The marriage had taken place so far back as 1594, 
 the year when Sir John was Lord Mayor, and in 
 the fifteen years which elapsed before the inheritance 
 came to the Comptons the heiress found time to 
 elaborate a scheme for the organisation of her house- 
 hold which has been preserved, and affords a curious 
 picture of the social life of the upper classes before the 
 Great Rebellion. She must have, she tells her " sweet 
 life," £1,G00 a year, to be paid quarterly, for apparel ; £600 
 more " for the performance of charitable works." She 
 further required three horses for her own saddle ; two 
 gentlewomen to attend her, " lest one should be sick," 
 and " six or eight gentlemen," and " for that it is indecent 
 to crowd myself with my gentleman usher in my coach, 
 I will have him to have a convenient horse, to attend me
 
 > - 
 
 EC * 
 
 3 1 
 CQ -5 
 
 §s 
 
 c 
 
 & I 
 
 I- | 
 LU 5 
 
 Z. ■ -a 
 
 < ^ 
 
 a 
 
 UJ 5 
 
 1 o 
 H E
 
 CANONBURY. 237 
 
 either in city or in country." She also desired as a start 
 twenty gowns, of which six were to be " very excellent 
 good ones," and £2,200 to put in her purse. Moreover, 
 her husband was to discharge her debts and give her 
 £10,000 for jewellery; and she goes on, "Now seeing I 
 am so reasonable unto you, I pray you find my children 
 apparel, and their schooling," and ends by stipulating 
 that when he becomes an earl he is to allow her another 
 thousand a year, and to double her attendance. 
 
 Canonbury has remained in the possession of the 
 Compton family ever since. The first Lord Northampton 
 does not appear to have made much use of it as a residence. 
 He had lodgings in the Savoy at the time of his death, 
 which was caused by sudden chill from bathing late one 
 night in the Thames ; and Canonbury was inhabited by 
 various tenants, some of them, such as Lord Chancellor 
 Egerton, people of eminence. In 1770 the old park of 
 the priors, which was surrounded by a wall, was cut up 
 into building ground. A Mr. Dawes, " an eminent and 
 very successful stockbroker," took it and built " a genteel 
 villa," and other houses ; and now the town is all round 
 it and far beyond it. The tower was let in flats, and 
 enjoyed a certain amount of popularity, especially among 
 literary people. Chambers, the author of the " Cyclopaedia," 
 long lived here, and was engaged on a larger edition of 
 that work when he died. At that time, as we are assured 
 by Nichols, the building was so detached from others, 
 " so encompassed with fine fields and gardens, the goodness 
 of the air, considering its nearness to London, being 
 remarkable," and had three such " delightful prospects 
 to the east, north, and south, and the higher rooms also 
 to the west, commanding the whole City of London, and 
 the hills in Surrey and Kent," that many people whose 
 affairs would not permit them to be further from
 
 
 238 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 London resorted to it for retirement and relaxation. 
 He gives the names of some of the more remarkable, 
 but omits, or does not know, the greatest of them all, 
 Oliver Goldsmith. 
 
 The tower as it now appears is 17 feet scpuare and 58 
 feet high, and still contains some handsome rooms, all 
 much disguised with plaster-work and painting. We must 
 hope, whatever happens, that tins memorial of old time 
 may be spared. It is not easy to realise now that when 
 Prior Bolton came out here from Smithfield he passed 
 hardly any inhabited houses, except the two convents 
 at Cler ken well, and that from the top of his tower he 
 could look without any interruption at St. Bartholomew's 
 and the new church he was engaged in building. 
 

 
 239 
 
 CHAPTEIi XX. 
 
 BUCKINGHAM TALACE. 
 
 The Largest English Palace— The Site and its Memories— Mary 
 Davies the Heiress, and her Marriage to Sir Richard Grosvenor 
 — James I.'s Mulberry Garden — Arlington or Goring House — 
 The Duke of Buckingham — Bnckiugham Houso a Royal 
 Residence— George III. and his Library — The Meeting 
 between the King and Dr. Johnson— Queen Victoria as the 
 Occupant of Buckingham Palace. 
 
 As an example of the architecture of the Victorian age, 
 
 Buckingham Palace is not a building of which we can 
 
 feel very proud. The additions which made it the largest 
 
 of English royal residences were designed at a very 
 
 unfortunate period in our art history. Architecture had 
 
 just then fallen between two stools, the Gothic style and 
 
 the Classical. Classical architecture itself was also divided, 
 
 and the Greek, or supposed Greek style, was contending 
 
 with the Palladian. So that, literally, there were three 
 
 incompatible schools of design — not one of which, by the 
 
 way, was understood by a majority of its professors. No 
 
 wonder, then, if the design of Buckingham Palace, in 
 
 spite of its immense size, deserves above all other adjectives 
 
 that of " trivial," whether " trivial " means, as Dr. Johnson 
 
 says, " vulgar," or is connected with Latin words referring 
 
 to three ways. There were three possible styles in which 
 
 Buckingham Palace might have been built : and it may 
 
 safely be said that it is in none of them. Fortunately
 
 240 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 there are two sides to every case, however bad, and the 
 inside of Buckingham Palace is certainly better than the 
 outside. 
 
 The oldest map which gives the features of this locality 
 in any detail is one in the Crace Collection at the British 
 Museum. It is a survey of the estate of Mrs. Mary Davies 
 — misspelt on the map " Dammison " — made in 1675 by 
 a certain Henry Morgan, whose method of spelling the 
 English language was peculiar to himself. He shows 
 us Hyde Park Corner, which he decorates with trees, 
 and calls " Brooke shot." A road skirts the Brookshot, 
 having on its western side open fields labelled " Pastuer." 
 The road passes close to " Gorin House," and an alternative 
 name is also recorded — " Arndall House and Garden." 
 This stands for " Arlington House." Behind it on the 
 western side is " Mr. Thomson, Pasteur," with a brick 
 wall called Gorin Garden. The brick wall enclosed an 
 hexagonal plot, which very nearly coincides with the 
 forty acres of the present Palace Gardens. Nearer the 
 road, to the north of a Arndall House," is the " Mulberry 
 Garden." 
 
 Who was Mrs. Mary Davies ? She was the daughter 
 of Alexander Davies, a scrivener who had married Mary 
 Dukeson, the daughter of the rector of St. Clement Danes. 
 The rector had living in his house at the time a very 
 old man, named Audley, a lawyer, who had amassed a 
 great fortune, which he distributed by will among the 
 children and grandchildren of his sister, Mary Peacock. 
 Her daughter, another Mary, was Alexander Davies's 
 mother; and "Rich Audley," as he is called by Pepys and 
 his other contemporaries, left him the lands eventually 
 surveyed by Henry Morgan. Davies died in the Great 
 Plague, and was buried in the churchyard of St. Margaret's 
 at Westminster. His daughter, " Mrs. Mary Dammison,"
 
 Ill 
 
 D 
 O 
 
 I 
 
 < 
 
 I 
 
 o 
 
 z 
 
 o 
 
 CQ
 
 BUCKINGHAM PALACE. 241 
 
 was but six months old at the time, and lived with her 
 grandfather, Dr. Dukeson, who gave her in marriage, 
 when she had attained the ripe age of eleven, to young 
 Sir Richard Grosvenor, of Eaton, in Cheshire. The 
 rector himself had come from Cheshire. Lady Grosvenor's 
 inheritance forms the chief estate of her descendant, the 
 Duke of Westminster ; and was, as it still is, cut in two 
 by the Mulberry Garden of King James, on the site now 
 occupied by Buckingham Palace and its grounds. 
 
 To account for the local names on Morgan's map, 
 we find that soon after the accession of King James I. 
 the great importance in England of the newly established 
 silk manufacture caused an attempt to be made in many 
 places to feed the silk-producing insect at home. The 
 French some years before had made not unsuccessful efforts 
 with the same object, and, ignoring the differences of 
 climate, our " British Solomon " issued to his subjects 
 a circular in which he recommended them to plant 
 mulberry trees, and himself set the example by walling 
 in four acres of the Green Park, then called " Upper 
 St. James's Park," and establishing a Mulberry Garden. 
 The first keeper was William Stallenge, who appears 
 either to have been successful or, at least, to have per- 
 suaded his patron that he was so, and he had a patent 
 granted him for seven years. Eventually, however, 
 the office of Keeper of the Mulberry Garden became more 
 or less a sinecure, and evidently not a very rich one, as it 
 was sold by one official for the modest sum of £406. The 
 buyer was George Goring, a favourite of the King, who 
 was made a peer, as Lord Goring, in 1628. He built a 
 house on land adjoining the Garden, and seems to have 
 made it his residence. He was raised to the earldom of 
 Norwich by Charles I., a title which had been his maternal 
 uncle's, but he seems to have been called Lord Goring 
 Q
 
 - 
 
 ''-•■ 
 
 242 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 to the day of his death, which did not happen till after 
 the Restoration. His career has been variously judged, 
 and need not be further noticed here. His house, during 
 the Commonwealth, was rented by Lenthall, the Speaker, 
 and after the Restoration by Henry Bennet, Earl of 
 Arlington, a member of the celebrated Cabal Ministry, 
 who had also a house and grounds at the opposite side 
 of the Park, where they are still commemorated by 
 Arlington and Bennet Streets. When the second Earl of 
 Norwich died childless in 1G71, Arlington obtained a 
 crown lease at a nominal rent, and he had, therefore, been 
 about four years in possession when Henry Morgan made 
 his survey. 
 
 Views of Arlington or Goring House are extant. 
 One of them, an anonymous etching, is in the Crace 
 Collection, and is dated 1663. It shows a good plain 
 design of the Inigo Jones type, with a high cupola in the 
 centre and an arcaded portico. It is quite possible that 
 some remains of this house are still existing in the fabric 
 of Buckingham Palace. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Mulberry Garden became a place of 
 public amusement. Both Evelyn and Pepys in their 
 immortal Diaries speak of its attractions. It seems to 
 have been a resort of fashion even during the Protector's 
 life-time, and was furnished with a place in which to dine 
 and a good cook. Pepys, in April, 1669, much admires a 
 Spanish dish— he calls it an " olio "—of which he partook, 
 visiting the garden twice on the same day. The plays of 
 the Restoration period contain many allusions to the 
 garden and its convenient arbours, and the trees must 
 have been productive, for Dryden is recorded to have 
 loved the mulberry tarts. 
 
 The garden was probably closed to the public before 
 Arlington House passed into the possession of John Shef-
 
 BUCKINGHAM PALACE. 243 
 
 field, Marquis of Normanby, who, in the same year, 1703, 
 in which he rebuilt it, was created Duke of Normanby, 
 and a few weeks later, Duke of the county of Buckingham. 
 He is known in history by the title and the form of it which 
 he preferred, for he signed his name not " Normanby 
 and Buckinghamshire," nor even " Buckinghamshire," 
 but simply " Buckingham." And this form is still re- 
 tained in the official name of the palace. The architect 
 employed was Wynde, a Dutchman, generally referred 
 to as Captain Wynne. He built Newcastle House, in 
 Lincoln's Inn Fields, and Cliefden, on the Thames, near 
 Taplow. 
 
 Arlington had died in 1685, leaving an only daughter, 
 and the Duke seems to have bought the lease of 1671. 
 In his will he speaks of it as if it was a freehold. Buck- 
 ingham is an interesting character. His chief vices were 
 the vices of his time, added to an inordinate family pride. 
 He had, it was said, proposed to marry the Princess Anne, 
 and, being refused, retired for a time to the Continent ; 
 but he got over his disappointment, and eventually, by 
 a curious fate, married as his third wife her step-sister, 
 Lady Catherine Darnley, one of the acknowledged children 
 of King James II. This was the lady who received Lord 
 Hervey in a kind of funeral state on the anniversary of 
 the death of Charles I., her reputed grandfather. When 
 Princess Anne became Queen, she remembered the com- 
 pliment Normanby had paid her, and very shortly after 
 her accession conferred the two dukedoms upon him, 
 and made him Lord Privy Seal. In 1703 he put a new 
 front and two wings on his house in St. James's Park, 
 and about the same time he laid out the gardens, which, 
 strictly speaking, can only in small part have been on 
 the site occupied by King James's mulberries. In 1706, 
 on account, perhaps, of some slight to his vanity, he
 
 244 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 resigned his office, but did not, as he writes to his friend 
 the Duke of Shrewsbury, go away from London. 
 
 " You accuse me," he says, " of singularity in resigning 
 the Privy Seal, with a pension added to it, and yet after- 
 wards staying in town, at a season when everybody else 
 leaves it, which you say is despising at once both Court 
 and country." The letter is printed at length in 
 Dodsley's " London and its Environs," 1761 ; and the 
 Duke makes a good excuse for his strange conduct 
 by offering his correspondent a delightful and, for 
 the age, wonderfully enthusiastic description of his 
 house and grounds. The difference which nearly two 
 hundred years have made in the appearance of the 
 West End of London cannot be better illustrated than 
 by some of the sentences of this letter. The garden 
 is able to suggest, by the advantages of its situation, the 
 noblest thoughts that can be, for it presents at once to 
 view " a vast town, a palace, and a magnificent cathedral." 
 Considering that London was then all to the eastward 
 of his house, that the palace was St. James's, and the 
 "cathedral" Westminster Abbey— in which, by the way, 
 he was destined to be buried — this is a rather high-flown 
 description. But he goes on to say that the commonest 
 shrub in his garden excites his devotion more than a 
 church, as the works of Nature appear to him to be the 
 better sort of sermons. " The small distance of this place 
 from London," he continues, " is just enough for recovering 
 my weariness, and recruiting my spirits so as to make me 
 better than before I set out." He then enters on a minute 
 description of his house, with its hall, " paved with square 
 white stones mixed with a dark coloured marble " ; its 
 parlour, thirty-three feet by thirty-nine, with a niche 
 fifteen feet broad for a beaufette, paved with white marble 
 and placed within an arch with pilasters of divers colours,
 
 PoJLou 6*1 <■• ' Wp P **"* U 
 
 BUCKINGHAM PALACE. 245 
 
 the upper part of which as high as the ceiling is painted 
 by Ricci, its staircase decorated with the story of Dido, 
 and domed with the figures of gods and goddesses ; a 
 saloon, thirty-five feet by forty-five, also painted, and 
 a " closet of original pictures, which yet are not so 
 entertaining as the delightful prospect from the windows." 
 
 The exterior of the house itself is hardly mentioned by 
 the Duke ; and it seems to have been but little altered 
 even after its occupation for many years by Queen 
 Charlotte. It was of red brick, with stone dressings, 
 had a Corinthian portico, and two wings connected by 
 carved colonnades with the centre. An appropriate 
 Latin motto was on the entablature, referring to the 
 charms of the situation, and on the garden front were the 
 words, now so hackneyed, Rus in Urbe. There were 
 statues and fountains and other embellishments of the 
 kind, most of which disappeared after the Duke's death 
 in 1721. He left the house to his widow, who survived 
 him till 1743. In 1761 it was bought by the young 
 King, and it was settled on the Queen in 1775 when Somer- 
 set House, in the Strand, was given up for public offices. 
 The price paid to Sir Charles Sheffield, the Duke's eventual 
 heir, was £21,000. 
 
 George III. made Buckingham Palace the headquarters 
 of his immense literary collections. We must remember 
 that London in those days was but scantily furnished 
 with libraries. The nucleus of the library at the British 
 Museum was only formed in 1757, when George II., 
 shortly before his death, gave it the old library of the 
 English Kings, in all about ten thousand volumes. There 
 were libraries at Syon College and St. Paul's for clergymen, 
 and in Queen's Square for Dissenters. A few other small 
 collections were open to the public, but do not seem to 
 have been much used. So liberally did the young King
 
 246 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 go to work to start a new royal library, in the place of 
 that given away by his grandfather, that though he only 
 ascended the throne in 1760, and was then, as is well known, 
 but eighteen years of age, he had already, six years after 
 the purchase of Buckingham House, collected a library 
 which, to use the words of Jolmson, as reported by Boswell, 
 " was more numerous and curious than he supposed any 
 person could have made in the time which the King had 
 employed." Barnard, the King's librarian, was much 
 beholden to Jolmson for a long letter, in which he gave 
 elaborate instructions as to the formation of a library. 
 It would have been interesting to read that letter, but 
 Boswell could not obtain it from Barnard, who thought 
 it would detract from his own merits. 
 
 The great foreign collection of " Consul Smith " 
 contained books and manuscripts as well as pictures, 
 and new rooms had to be added to the old house. 
 Pyne gives the interiors of two of them, as well as views 
 of several other rooms, the hall, staircase, and saloon 
 of the Duke's building, evidently not much altered 
 since he wrote his letter to the Duke of Shrewsbury, 
 though by 1818, when Pyne's drawings were made, Wyatt 
 the elder had been at work. The libraries were plain, 
 their ornaments consisting of books alone, and it is interest- 
 ing to imagine the uncouth figure of Samuel Johnson 
 standing by that tall wire fire-guard, or sitting in one of 
 those comfortless armchairs with an editio princeps of some 
 classic author held close to his nose. Mr. Barnard, we 
 are told, " took care that he should have every accommo- 
 dation that could contribute to his ease and convenience 
 while indulging his literary taste in that place." The 
 King heard of it, and desired that he should be told of 
 Johnson's next visit. Boswell's description of the inter- 
 view and the conversation that ensued is one of the best
 
 LU 
 O 
 < 
 
 < 
 0. 
 
 1 s 
 
 CD : 
 
 Z »" 
 
 § I 
 
 D » 
 
 > I 
 
 < : 
 
 £ » 
 
 w 
 
 G 
 
 LU 
 
 I 
 I-
 
 
 /^vK^v.
 
 )ll 
 
 t 
 
 
 BUCKINGHAM PALACE. 247 
 
 passages of the best biography in the language. The 
 minutes of the conversation were submitted to the King 
 for approval before publication. At the time of the 
 interview George III. cannot have been twenty-five years 
 of age, and considering the poverty of the education he 
 had received, and the slight knowledge he can have had 
 time to gain of his newly acquired books, his remarks 
 are surprisingly safe, if not sound. 
 
 The books collected here form now a very important 
 part of the library at the British Museum, to which 
 between sixty and seventy thousand volumes were 
 conveyed by an arrangement with George IV., who 
 had no room for them during the rebuilding of the 
 palace, and who neglected, or forgot, a library among 
 the new buildings at Windsor. It is interesting here 
 to note that another interview, more than ninety years 
 later, took place in Buckingham Palace between a 
 Sovereign and an eminent author. A few months only 
 before the sudden death of Charles Dickens — I quote from 
 a passage in " Old and New London " (iv., 70) — he went 
 to visit Queen Victoria at her Majesty's desire. The 
 Queen's kindness left a strong impression on his mind : 
 she gave him a copy of the " Journal in the Highlands " ; 
 and just two months from the day of the interview Dickens 
 was buried in Westminster Abbey 
 
 All the children of Queen Charlotte, except the Prince 
 of Wales, were born at Buckingham Palace, and after 
 the King's final illness in 1810 she resided here occasionally 
 until her death in 1818. The scheme of making this the 
 headquarters of the Court instead of St. James's was 
 one of the favourite ideas of George IV., but as there was 
 considerable difficulty in obtaining funds from Parliament, 
 it was determined, ostensibly at least, only to repair and 
 enlarge old Buckingham House. Enormous sums were. 

 
 248 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 however, expended by Nash, with a most unsatisfactory 
 result, for the height and proportions of Wynde's design 
 were retained, although wholly unsuited to the new 
 dimensions of the palace. 
 
 When Queen Victoria succeeded, the palace had been 
 undergoing improvements and alterations; but, though 
 many of the State Apartments were handsome, it was 
 not suitable for the chief royal residence. William IV. 
 had never lived in it, and the Duke of Wellington said of 
 it that no European Sovereign was so ill-lodged as the 
 King of England. The old part of the house faces north 
 into the gardens, and is built of good stone from designs 
 by Nash. In this wing are the dining-room and other 
 domestic apartments, and an extensive and beautiful 
 collection of Sevres porcelain is in wall cases hermetically 
 sealed. A library, a sculpture gallery, and a low but 
 handsome hall, fifty feet by thirty, are among the best 
 features of the old palace. It was further set off by the 
 Marble Arch, which formed a stately entrance. 
 
 Several extensive additions were ordered to render 
 the building available for the use of the young Queen ; 
 but they were chiefly carried out in poor materials, covered 
 with stucco painted drab, and the design by Blore was 
 so debased — being neither Palladian, like Wynde's and 
 Nash's work, nor Gothic, as Blore might have liked it — 
 that it has been universally condemned. In 1850 the 
 Marble Arch was removed to Tyburn Turnpike ; the old 
 dome in the centre was pulled down, a great ball-room was 
 built on the south side, and a passage or corridor. A 
 picture gallery, the proportions of which may be judged 
 when we note that it is 152 feet long by 28 feet wide and 
 30 feet high, was added, in a wretched style, neither 
 Classical nor Gothic, and gaudily paintedjand 'gilded ,\ with 
 skylights. \
 
 BUCKINGHAM PALACE. 249 
 
 The building remained essentially mean, and only not 
 commonplace because it was more than commonly ugly. 
 We may hope that, considered merely as a background 
 for the monument which is to commemorate Queen 
 Victoria's long and glorious reign, the front of Bucking- 
 ham Palace may be rendered more worthy to be known 
 as the residence of the greatest Sovereign in the world. 

 
 250 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE LIBRAEY OF ST. PAUL'S. 
 
 A Long Ascent — The Preservation of Ancient Records — Bishop 
 Compton— The Model of Wren's Favourite Design for the 
 Cathedral — The Manuscripts — "Bishop and Portreeve" — 
 Odd Names — Priests' Sons. 
 
 One hundred and forty-three steps ! Such is the pre- 
 liminary exercise prescribed for those who would ascend 
 to the triforium of St. Paul's in order to see the Library. 
 In an ordinary London house twenty or twenty-five steps 
 take us up to the first floor, and we constantly hear people 
 complain of " those endless stairs." The visitor to St. 
 Paul's, therefore, may have to think twice before he sets 
 out on the long climb, and various methods have been 
 suggested by which it may be accomplished with the 
 smallest resultant fatigue and loss of breath. All I can 
 say is that mere curiosity will have very little reward ; 
 but that to the serious student, either of architecture 
 or of history, the excursion will prove most delightfully 
 novel, instructive, even thrilling ; and though a penalty 
 may have to be paid by panting lungs and aching limbs, 
 these things will be forgotten ; while the views east and 
 west, north and south, the objects of literary interest, the 
 ancient cathedral records, and the beautiful model of 
 Sir Christopher Wren's first and favourite design will live 
 long in the memory and return our expenditure with 
 compound interest.
 
 THE LIBRARY OF ST. PAUL'S. 251 
 
 Let us dwell briefly on the Library and its contents ; 
 pay a visit to the model ; and spend the rest of our time 
 on an examination of some of these, the most ancient 
 series of muniments preserved by any capitular body in 
 England. Even that of the Corporation at the Guildhall, 
 marvellously ancient as it is, pales beside the collection 
 at St. Paul's— a collection which owes nothing to the 
 collector, but has grown and accumulated ever since a 
 cathedral church, with a duly constituted Dean and 
 Chapter, occupied the site. I do not know how it was 
 saved from the flames in 1666 — nay, so ancient are many 
 of the documents, from the Great Fire of 1136. If we 
 have time, when we have seen the Library and visited 
 Wren's model, we may pick out from among the manu- 
 scripts one or two which were probably in, I was going 
 to say Old St. Paul's, but I mean an older St. Paul's still, 
 the church founded by King Alfred two hundred and 
 fifty years before the first Great Fire, and seven hundred 
 and eighty years before the destruction of what we call 
 Old St. Paul's. 
 
 The triforium is full of what looks for a moment like 
 theatrical scenery. These great pictures stretched on 
 irregularly shaped frames are designs, some of them by 
 great artists, for the decoration of the dome. For instance, 
 Stevens the sculptor, who designed the Wellington Monu- 
 ment in the nave below, made sketches for three of the 
 prophets, which, with other drawings of his, are here. 
 Among others, there are also here experimental sketches 
 and pictures, some of them highly finished, by Sir 
 Edward Poynter and, I think, the late Lord Leighton 
 and Mr. Watts. When we have passed these curious 
 objects, we reach on the left the door of the Library. A 
 little further on, another door, also on the left, admits 
 to the head of the so-called " geometrical " staircase, and
 
 252 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 there is a kind of gallery at the western extremity of the 
 church, from which a fine view may be obtained of the 
 nave and choir. The gallery forms a crossing from the 
 southern triforium to the northern : and here, in one 
 chamber, is Wren's model of his original design. Another 
 chamber forms a lecture- or class-room, sometimes used. 
 
 The Library contains, besides some fine books, many 
 objects of interest. Bishop Compton left half his library 
 to St. Paul's, and his portrait hangs in the gallery, above 
 the fireplace at the east end of the room. This was the 
 brave bishop who, dressed as a dragoon, carried Princess 
 Anne behind him on horseback to join the Prince of Orange 
 in the winter of 1688, and who as Bishop of London saw 
 the new cathedral opened for service in 1697, and the 
 whole building, so far as stone-work was concerned, finished 
 in 1711, as he survived until 1713. In one of the cases 
 is the promise of King Charles to give a thousand a year 
 towards the rebuilding. There are, unfortunately, no 
 records of a single payment. Some autographs of arch- 
 bishops and a signature in the neat hand of Sir Christopher 
 Wren are also to be seen. 
 
 On the opposite or north side of the triforium, a door 
 admits us to a chamber where, in a very cramped space, 
 is the beautiful model of Wren's original design.* It is 
 large enough to allow the visitor to enter a doorway in 
 the baize-covered pedestal on which its stands, so as to 
 understand more clearly how far the design accomplishes 
 the architect's object. He aimed at making a house 
 where the largest possible number of hearers might assemble 
 under cover — a new " Paul's Cross," but not in the open-air. 
 He wished to provide a preaching place, a building in which 
 music could be performed to the greatest advantage, 
 where there should be the least possible interruption either 
 
 * A reproduction of the design will be found facing p. 1 64.
 
 THE LIBRARY OF ST. PAUL'S. 253 
 
 to sight or sound. This model shows plainly the practical 
 manner in which Wren grappled with the difficulties 
 of the problem presented to him. In addition to the 
 necessities just mentioned, he never lost sight of one other : 
 his great preaching and praising place must be beautiful. 
 He bestowed upon it such delicate proportions that every 
 part answers to the rest, and that the eye is carried 
 upward by a series of carefully calculated curves from 
 the basement to the cross on the summit of the dome. 
 He depended upon these proportions for his effect, but 
 he did not neglect ornament. True, the ornaments were 
 to be entirely subordinate, but they were to enhance the 
 salient points of the design, and to add to the pleasure of 
 viewing the building in detail. 
 
 It is not very easy to describe the design so as to convey 
 a clear idea of its beauty. The new church was to consist 
 of a vast dome. Everything else was subsidiary. At the 
 west end was a pedimented portico of eight Corinthian 
 columns, recessed in the centre, where a series of pillars 
 led into a vestibule of considerable size, crowned with a 
 small dome, specially designed to afford the eye a measure 
 of the greater dome which was the principal feature of 
 the whole edifice. The supports of the dome, north, 
 south, east, and west, might be denominated transepts, 
 nave, and choir ; but in reality there were no such divisions, 
 as we shall understand better when we examine the in- 
 terior. The dome was supported by four great masses 
 of building of one storey in height. At the ends of the 
 northern and southern wings were small porticoes flanked 
 by engaged columns. At the eastern end was a slight 
 semi-circular projection, instead of the porticoes which 
 occurred north and south. The entrance to the western 
 wing was by a great arch from the vestibule mentioned 
 above. The vestibule was much narrower than the main
 
 254 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 body of the church, with which it did not come into any 
 kind of competition, except in so far as it served for a foil. 
 It had, besides the portico, two smaller entrances, north 
 and south, with stately flights of steps leading up to them. 
 In plan the vestibule was almost an octagon, so that it 
 contrasted strongly with the main building, whose curves 
 were convex. The effect of these curves on the view 
 would have been as beautiful as it would have been singular. 
 Some critics have objected to them as unquiet ; and this 
 would have been a valid objection if the building had been 
 in any other hands. But Wren, while he curved the plan 
 of what would otherwise have been rectangular corners, 
 left the ends of what we must call the transepts square. 
 These projections came just under the dome, and were of 
 the 6ame width. The spectator, therefore, would have 
 admired curves which added so much to the gracefulness 
 of the church, and at the same time would have been 
 satisfied as to the appearance of stability imparted by the 
 square fronts to the dome, which seemed to rest upon 
 them and rise from them. 
 
 The interior would have mainly consisted of the dome, 
 surrounded by a kind of continuous side aisle, of an even 
 width saving at the east end, where, as has been mentioned, 
 a shallow recess marked the place of the communion 
 table. The apertures were numerous between the cir- 
 cumambient aisle and the space under the dome, and a 
 congregation which filled both spaces would have been 
 able easily to see and to hear. These archways, eight 
 in number, were divided by piers, which themselves were 
 pierced, and the whole effect would have been that of 
 exceeding lightness combined with the most satisfactory 
 strength. 
 
 The dome was to rise three hundred feet above the 
 floor, and while it was, in many respects, like that of the
 
 < 
 
 Q 
 LU 
 
 I 
 h- 
 < 
 O 
 
 in 
 _i 
 
 D 
 < 
 
 
 > 
 
 < 
 
 CD 
 
 LU 
 I 
 I-
 
 of, 

 
 / 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF ST. PAUL'S. 255 
 
 present church, it was to be constructed on a different 
 system. These are points on which we need not enter 
 here. This noble and beautiful design was never carried 
 out. 
 
 In a former " Afternoon " we have visited the cathedral 
 as it is ; here we may pause to ask what critics have thought 
 and said of Wren's first design. Fergusson (" History of 
 Modern Architecture," p. 268), after speaking of the 
 height and width and other things, goes on : 
 
 M For the purposes of a Protestant church, it cannot be 
 doubted that this arrangement is superior to that of the present 
 church, the great defect being a want of definite proportion 
 between the small and large arches supporting the dome. As 
 they all sprung from the same level, the wide arches are too low, 
 the narrow ones are too high ; but the practical difference is 
 so slight that it looks like bad building, or as if the architect 
 had made a mistake in setting out the work, and tried to correct 
 his error by a clumsy device. Notwithstanding this defect, the 
 interior of the church as shown in the model would probably 
 have been as superior to that of the present church as the 
 exterior would have been inferior." 
 
 A little further on Fergusson objects to the curved outline : 
 
 " The hollow curve connecting the transepts with the nave 
 and choir would have had a most disagreeable effect, adding 
 considerably to the total want of repose in the whole outline." 
 
 As we have seen, there may be two opinions upon this 
 point, and undoubtedly Wren was far more likely than 
 Fergusson to judge rightly on such a question. Miss 
 Phillimore remarks in her " Sir Christopher Wren " 
 (p. 198): 
 
 " The outside, with the two hollow curves joining the transepts 
 with the nave ; and the two different-sized domes, would prob- 
 ably have been disappointing ; but one speaks with diffidence, 
 for this was Sir Christopher's favourite design, the St. Paul's 
 which he told his son he would most cheerfully have accom- 
 plished."
 
 256 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Elmes, in his " Life of Wren " (p. 320), says of this design : 
 
 It " possesses an originality peculiarly striking ; copied from 
 no other building, it exhibits judgment and invention in every 
 turn. Its series of cupolettas, round the grand central dome, 
 is beautiful, and would have proved eminently effective in execu- 
 tion ; and the variety of views, from the dilferent parts of the 
 building, seen in various lights, as the spectator approaches, 
 recedes, or perambulates its varied scenes, afford a more numerous 
 assemblage of various, beautiful, and picturesque combinations 
 than almost any other plan in existence." 
 
 Weale, a moderate and judicious writer, with, if anything, 
 a leaning to the old Gothic, says in his " London " (p. 181): 
 
 " He was planning what, strange to say, the world has not 
 yet seen— a solemn and real Protestant temple, not a counterfeit 
 Roman Catholic one. He would have erected an edifice on the 
 principles and in the spirit of the mediaeval church-budders, viz., 
 an edifice whose form should be governed, as theirs were, by 
 fitness to the service for which it was built, and by nothing else." 
 
 Charles II. and his brother, subsequently James II., would 
 not give any countenance to Wren's splendid design. 
 They wished, not for a preaching house, but a mass house. 
 The documents— which, as I have said, are probably 
 the oldest continuous series of records preserved by any 
 corporate body in England, if not in the world— are con- 
 tained in the chambers between the north triforium and 
 the south. They are therefore at the western end of the 
 cathedral, and are so stored as to be readily accessible in 
 case their preservation should be threatened. Not only 
 so, but books into which charters have been copied are 
 in the collection — copies made in some cases as far back 
 as the reigns of the Conqueror's immediate descendants and 
 successors. The copiers have added considerably to the 
 labours of the modern historians who have dipped into 
 these archives— Bishop Stubbs, Dr. Sparrow Simpson, or 
 Mr. Larking, for example— by entering the date when the
 
 THE LIBRARY OF ST. PAUL'S. 257 
 
 copy was made as if it was the date of the original 
 document. 
 
 A curious example occurs in Sir H. Maxwell Lyte's 
 calendar of these manuscripts. One page of a book of 
 copies (Liber L) contains a grant of land to the Dean 
 and Chapter by Goisbert, before the Conquest, and on 
 another page is an arrangement regarding it made by 
 Robert, Goisbert's son. This second deed is entered on 
 an earlier page than the first, and is dated in 1141, " the 
 year,'' says the copier, " that King Stephen escaped from 
 captivity by Robert, son of King Henry." But the deed 
 itself bears the signatures of several of the worthies who 
 figure so largely in the pre-Hastings period and are found 
 in the pages of Freeman and Green and Stubbs ; such 
 men, to wit, as Ansgar, who was wounded on the fatal 
 field of Senlac, and William Malet, and many more. 
 
 A systematic examination and comparison of the names 
 in these documents has yet to be made. Many of them 
 afford the earliest light now to be obtained in any inquiry 
 as to the origin of surnames. They tell us of the odd 
 personal nicknames which had to do duty for surnames 
 in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. The investigation 
 is not only amusing, but useful. We have Sherehog, 
 a wealthy wool merchant, whose name still lingers in the 
 City, and reminds us of a sheep farmer's distinction of 
 some of his flock. Again, Drinkpin, an eminent vintner, 
 alderman of his ward, reminds us by his name of the 
 time when tankards were marked by pins or pegs so that 
 you might not take more than you were entitled to. We 
 still talk of having a peg : but how many of us remember 
 what the phrase means ? In " John Gilpin " we hear 
 of one who was in merry pin. Of other names, the 
 majority in the twelfth century referred to some personal 
 peculiarity, and we meet with " Hugh with the teeth," 
 
 R
 
 258 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 " Edward with the beard," " Richard with the crooked 
 nose," ' William with the wide eye," and " William with 
 whiskers,"' and an alderman whose name was " Algar 
 Manningstepson." There are also a great many names 
 of animals, such as bat, bull, goose, pig, and others. A 
 few names seem to be religious, as " Good Soul " and " A 
 God's half." Personal names are " the Blind," " the 
 Lame," " the Spotted," and there is a Phillip " the dwarf " 
 and a Reginald " the dwarf." A few rare trades are named, 
 such as John " who binds books," and Dionysia " la bok- 
 byndere," who dwelt in Fleet Street ; and we must not 
 omit Godeva, the wife of Gerold of Stratford. 
 
 In addition to these curiosities, the manuscripts in 
 this little known but most important store contain many 
 things well worthy of study, if we would understand 
 London life in those ancient days. But one document 
 stands out as containing a piece of important historical 
 information of far wider interest than most of those 
 which surround it. Only a brief abstract is given in Sir 
 H. Maxwell Lyte's report, but the Corporation has gone 
 to the expense of having the whole parchment copied in 
 facsimile. This document tells us who were the alder- 
 men of the eleventh century, that is, of the period im- 
 mediately succeeding the Conquest. The latest date that 
 can be assigned to it is between 1100 and 1110. The 
 first list of aldermen recognised before the publication 
 of the report is one at the Guildhall, and belongs to the 
 middle of the thirteenth century. It would be easy to 
 enlarge on the differences and similarities between the 
 two lists ; but here and now it must suffice to offer a few 
 particulars of the more important features of the St. Paul's 
 list. We observe, for instance, that in some editions of 
 Stow, and in many later books, we are told of certain 
 provosts, prepositi, who were supposed to be portreeves.
 
 THE LIBRARY OF ST. PAUL'S. 259 
 
 We know that the portreeve was answerable, like a shire 
 reeve, for the King's farm, or rent. We also know the 
 names of a certain number of these reeves. But not one 
 of Stow's prepositi ever occurs among them. Who were 
 they, then ? This document, which is a list, or terrier, 
 of lands in the City belonging to St. Paul's, answers the 
 question, as you shall see. 
 
 Furthermore, why did Edward the Confessor, and after 
 him William the Conqueror, address their charters to the 
 bishop and the portreeve ? Two of Edward's charters 
 are thus addressed, and at least one of William's. This 
 document tells us : but I am not surprised that the mention 
 of the bishop in almost the first line made its first modern 
 copiers hesitate. The summary in the Report leaves out 
 the most important passage in the whole document. Each 
 piece of land is described under the name of the alderman 
 of the ward in which it was situated. Twenty wards are 
 enumerated, and a great many of them may be identified. 
 The list begins with some lands beyond the Fleet, which 
 were afterwards included in the ward of Farringdon 
 Without. After them we have " Warda Episcopi." Before 
 the discovery of this document no one knew that the 
 Bishop of London was an alderman. He was apparently 
 above all other aldermen, and so we see him classed with 
 the portreeve, the official lay head of all the aldermen, 
 in the King's charters. The King wrote to the alderman 
 who was responsible for the ecclesiastical government 
 of London and to his brother alderman who, as portreeve, 
 was responsible for the civil government. 
 
 Like his brother alderman, the Prior of Holy 
 Trinity, Alderman of Portsoken, the Bishop-Alderman 
 had a deputy, who apparently was called prepositus 
 or provost. It is impossible that the bishop's provost 
 can have been the portreeve. The Latin for portreeve
 
 260 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 is viceeomes. But an abbot or a bishop in other places, 
 as Bury St. Edmunds, had a deputy called a provost. 
 There were many portreeves, such as Gilbert Proudfoot, 
 and two of the Buckerels, also Fulcred, also Robert, also 
 Wluardus, and the two Hughs, Bock and Par. One 
 name is not to be found, that of Leuric, the bishop's 
 provost. It was but a few years later that the bishop 
 himself ceased to be an alderman, but it just chances that 
 we have very little information as to the transitional 
 period between the hereditary aldermen and those who 
 were elected. Of the few provosts whom we can discover 
 or of whom Stow tells us, not one occurs among the port- 
 reeves or sheriffs who attended annually at the Exchequer. 
 By the way, Leuric is described as holding land worth, 
 in fee, xijd., extending twenty-one feet along the roadway 
 and in the other direction sixty-three feet and a half, in- 
 cluding two feet which were in dispute. Leuric is men- 
 tioned in several other places, but always as provost and 
 never as portreeve. 
 
 Before we leave this fascinating collection, it is desirable 
 that we should give an example of one of the ordinary 
 documents it contains. I have chosen one of the oldest, 
 for though it is undated, we know that Turstin and also 
 some of the witnesses were living at the very beginning 
 of the twelfth century, that is, before 1115. Turstin is, 
 in fact, the very earliest of the aldermen we find named, 
 but what ward was in his jurisdiction we cannot tell, except 
 that it was close to the river, and may have comprised 
 such outlying parts of what was afterwards the ward of 
 Farringdon as were not in the " wardaEpiscopi." Before 
 the full text of the list of aldermen was printed, that is, 
 before we knew that the bishop was an alderman, I for 
 one imagined that Turstin was alderman of the bishop's 
 ward. It is so stated in my volume on London in the
 
 THE LIBRARY OF ST. PAUL'S. 261 
 
 Historic Towns Series, and is a warning of the danger 
 of guessing in historical matters. 
 
 Here is Turstin's deed giving his house to the Dean 
 and Chapter of St. Paul's : 
 
 " Turstin the Alderman has given to God and St. Paul for his 
 soul's sake and for the sake of the soul of Wlveva his wife, all 
 that land on which he dwells, by consent of Gilbert his stepson, 
 quietly and without any prejudice on the part of the said Gilbert." 
 
 The following clergy and laity are witnesses, viz. : 
 
 " Azo, priest of the pariah ; 
 Gerald the priest ; 
 Robert the sacristan ; 
 
 Ralph the priest, nephew of William the archdeacon ; 
 Gilbert the son of the said Turstin ; 
 Ernald of Betonia ; 
 Edward Long or St. Benedict ; " 
 
 and thirty-one more, only two of whom possess a sur- 
 name, and two are sons of priests, " John " being " Son 
 of the Dean." 
 
 The number of men who are named as sons of priests 
 in these MSS. is very striking ; and it would seem as if 
 sometimes the bishop, the dean, and most of the canons 
 were married men. The subject is too large to be fully 
 treated of here : but it is one of those on which this 
 collection gives us extensive information. Dean Milman 
 would have made Bishop Fitz Neal a bastard, because 
 his father was Bishop of Ely. He suggests, as an 
 alternative, that he was born before his father took orders. 
 But at this same time, the middle of the twelfth 
 century, at least fourteen of the prebendaries of St. 
 Paul's were sons of priests, and among them we find 
 Angar, the father of Turstin, the Archbishop of York. 
 
 
 ;
 
 262 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 LONDON A CENTURY AGO. 
 
 Alterations in Half a Century — In a Century — Piccadilly in 1801 
 — Southwark — London Bridge — St. George's Fields and South 
 London — Prison Abuses — Tyburn and the Gallows — The 
 Roads — A Walk from North to South — A Frenchman in 
 London — The Old Bailey — The English Character. 
 
 If we could form a picture of what London was like in 
 1801 it would enable us to judge historically of the physical 
 changes which have taken place in all England. The moral 
 changes are equally great, but more impalpable. The 
 very air has altered. If the changes which can be remem- 
 bered by a man of sixty are so great, what they must 
 have been in a hundred years is incalculable. I remember 
 one street in 1843. I was a child, very young, but 
 observant as all children are while as yet everything 
 seems new. I had been born and so far brought up in 
 the north of Ireland. In London I was taken to see the 
 Tower, Greenwich Hospital, the Surrey Zoological Gardens, 
 and a Palace — I think Buckingham Palace. My recol- 
 lections of the Tower are very distinct. I think there 
 was some kind of tramway or railway to Greenwich. 
 But the most vivid picture I can call up is the view west- 
 ward, up hill, towards the Park gate in Oxford Street : 
 a wide street paved with large round stones, bordered 
 on either side by low, two- or three-storied houses ; a few,
 
 CM 
 CO 
 
 h 
 
 z 
 
 HI 
 
 -I a: 
 DC 
 
 < t 
 
 °- a 
 
 o 
 
 li. - 
 
 O | 
 
 o 
 
 CO & 
 
 UJ "* 
 
 CO c 
 
 D ° 
 
 = 
 
 1 £ 
 
 UJ 
 
 I 
 h
 
 
 
 
 c*~
 
 LONDON A CENTURY AGO. 263 
 
 very few, foot passengers, a blind man playing drearily 
 on a tin whistle, a single vehicle rumbling up the hill, a 
 hearse, with people following on foot, and two little children, 
 all in black. There seemed to be no other traffic. The 
 tin whistle and the hearse were connected indelibly in 
 my mind. 
 
 The contrast presented by a view from, say, the corner, 
 at what is called " the Deaf and Dumb Church," any 
 tine afternoon is indescribable. At Hereford Gardens 
 there was a dingy brick wall, and just beyond it a house — 
 it is there still— which was pointed out as that in which 
 Prince Leopold and Princess Charlotte stayed after their 
 marriage. Some fine houses opposite on the right were 
 called Cumberland Gate. The park railings were low 
 and shabby, and there were lodges where fourteen years 
 before had stood the turnpikes to the Edgware Road and 
 the Uxbridge Road. The houses on the north side were 
 dwarfed by Quebec Chapel, the tallest building in the 
 view. There were no omnibuses, no hansom cabs, very 
 few drays ; and the whole aspect of the place was that 
 of the extremity of a town but sparsely inhabited, and 
 that chiefly by the lowest class. The Marble Arch was not 
 moved to Cumberland Gate till 1850. Connaught Place 
 was built long before, but seemed to stand by itself for 
 many years ; and in 1822 Mr. Hope, the principal in- 
 habitant, improved the neighbourhood by placing a pair 
 of handsome gates at the entrance to the park, at an 
 expense of £2,000. Previously, there had only been " a 
 mean brick arch and a small narrow entrance on each 
 side for foot passengers," as we are told by Thomas Smith. 
 
 If we try to look back another half-century the dif- 
 ference not only there, but everywhere, is enormous. 
 Yet we may assume that between 1800 and 1850 it was 
 not so great as between the middle of the nineteenth
 
 264 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 century and the present time. Improvements have 
 been made at a rapid pace since the Crystal Palace was 
 set up where the Albert Memorial stands now, and looked 
 down southward over the open fields and orchards of 
 Brompton. Fifty years before, Chelsea and Kensington 
 were country villages connected by private houses standing 
 in their own grounds, like Gore House and Gloucester 
 Lodge and Cromwell House, where now we see the Albert 
 Hall and St. Stephen's Church and the Victoria and Albert 
 Museum. Prince of Wales Gate was the " Half-way House 
 Tavern." The "Fox and Bull" marked the Knights- 
 bridge entrance to the Park, and Piccadilly extended 
 as far as it does now, and was full of builders' yards 
 and plaster works, like Euston Road at the present day. 
 On the site of St. George's Hospital was a turnpike, and 
 just outside it the country house of Lord Lanesbo rough 
 had just been pulled down to make way for the new 
 institution. Near it was Buckingham House, which 
 King George III. had bought, and which was then com- 
 monly called the Queen's House. There were few or 
 no buildings, except country houses, further west. 
 Belgravia consisted of market gardens edging the marshy 
 meadows by the Grosvenor Canal, where coal and timber 
 barges unloaded. Pimlico Wharf gave its West Indian 
 name to the whole district— Pimlico, or Pimlicay, being, 
 I believe, a place where ships obtained Honduras 
 mahogany. Fulham was resorted to as Richmond is 
 now ; and from Battersea to Lambeth was almost open 
 country, with widely separated villages and a few country 
 houses of rich noblemen. 
 
 Lambeth was a little better populated, but the popu- 
 lation was not of a very respectable kind. All round 
 the Archbishop's palace were streets and alleys of the 
 worst description. Some of them possessed privileges of
 
 o 
 
 (3 
 < 
 
 d: 
 < 
 
 > 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 > 
 
 LU 
 
 m 
 m 
 
 < 
 
 < 
 
 i 
 
 HI 
 (3 
 Q 
 
 en 
 m 
 
 or 
 
 LU 
 
 h 
 
 5 
 
 ■■I llBBD w
 
 ^^e</^v-w \a- J*+ ^JA- -
 
 LONDON A CENTURY AGO. 265 
 
 sanctuary, and were resorted to by insolvent persons of all 
 classes, who here enjoyed a kind of liberty, and ventured 
 out once a week only, being exempt from arrest on 
 Sunday. Very few houses were to be found in Lambeth 
 Marsh, and where the busy stations we call Waterloo now 
 stand there were open fields with an occasional factory, 
 and a fringe of wharves towards the river. Thus we 
 reach Southwark, at the foot of London Bridge. In 
 1800 the Borough was very densely populated, and, like 
 Lambeth, with the lowest class. There was another 
 sanctuary here called the Mint, but fifty years before its 
 privileges had been abolished. The debtors' prison, 
 called the King's Bench, as well as the Marshalsea, were 
 between Lambeth and Southwark. Pirates as well as 
 debtors were confined in Marshalsea. St. George's 
 Church had not been built very long. St. Saviour's had 
 recently been repaired, but the old nave was still standing. 
 Two modern Gothic naves have been built successively 
 since then. 
 
 It had been always a serious matter how to cross 
 the Thames. There was a horse ferry from Lambeth to 
 Westminster until the year 1750 or thereabouts, when 
 Westminster Bridge was completed — not the bridge we 
 see now, but a stone bridge almost on the same site. There 
 the Thames is 300 feet wider than at London Bridge, 
 and the architect deserved great credit for his boldness. 
 The bridge, with the old Houses of Parliament in the 
 background, must have been very picturesque. Black- 
 friars Bridge, which was at first called Pitt Bridge, 
 was begun in 1760, and was opened for traffic in 1769. 
 A year or two before, London Bridge had houses on it 
 —not a double row as previously, but a few here and 
 there, and the remains of the chapel of St. Thomas a 
 Beeket in the centre. The old half-fortified gateway
 
 266 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 stood at the southern end, and may still have deserved 
 its name of the Traitor's Gate, from the skulls of 
 the Scots rebels grinning on spikes over the archway, 
 when it was taken down in 1726 and rebuilt, to be 
 again, and finally, taken down in 1758. It was like St. 
 John's Gate at Clerkenwell, or the Gate of St. James's 
 Palace, but of stone. The bridge itself was built on 
 abutments and piers of the most primitive kind. It 
 contained, besides a drawbridge, no fewer than nineteen 
 arches, pointed, and of course very narrow; instead of 
 only five arches, as at present. For two hundred years 
 a large part of the water supplied to the city was drawn 
 from the river by a water-wheel, which moved under one 
 of the arches. The stream was often very strong, and 
 Pennant, in 1787, speaks of taking boat from Westminster 
 along the river, but getting out at Old Swan Stairs, to 
 avoid the risk of " adding to the many thousands who 
 had lost their lives in darting down the rapids at London 
 Bridge." He tells us then of walking to Billingsgate, 
 and there re-embarking. The present bridge was begun 
 in 1825, and the principal difficulty in the way of the 
 new bridge was the extraordinary solidity of the old 
 foundations and piers. They were like rocks in the 
 river bed. 
 
 A view of the city from the Thames at London 
 Bridge in 1801 differed greatly from what we see now. 
 St Paul's had been finished some sixty years before. 
 Many church towers were then visible which are 
 now hidden by new buildings or altogether removed. 
 The great railway stations, with their long roofs and 
 heavy bridges, had not yet appeared to shut out the 
 view. There was hardly so much smoke ; very few 
 tall chimneys ; a few more trees, especially on the 
 left, towards the Temple ; the warehouses were lower
 
 m 
 oo 
 
 hi 
 o 
 
 Q 
 CE 
 
 m 
 
 O -s 
 
 Q oc 
 
 3 * 
 
 —I o 
 
 O 
 
 D 
 
 _l 
 O 
 
 LL 
 
 o 
 
 Q 
 Z 
 UJ 
 
 a: 
 < 
 
 i 
 l- 
 
 D 
 O 
 C/5 
 
 LU 
 
 I 
 I-
 
 LONDON A CENTURY AGO. 267 
 
 and the church steeples consequently looked taller, and 
 there were more houses with gables and perhaps a Gothic 
 window or two. The approaches to the bridge, however, 
 were very different, consisting of a labyrinth of small 
 streets where King William Street now stands. And 
 from the Tower, looking down the river, there were only 
 one or two docks, and a very small number of ships — at 
 least to our modern ideas — and of course no steamers. 
 Where the important St. Katharine's Dock now stands, 
 just beyond the Tower, was a church and a kind of 
 almshouse or college ; this institution was moved to the 
 Regent's Tark in 1827. 
 
 Returning to South wark, the first thing, perhaps, 
 that strikes us is how soon the streets end and the 
 open country succeeds. Newington Causeway was a real 
 causeway or paved way over some marshy ground, and 
 Newington Butts was what we should call a rifle-ground 
 — having been set apart for bows and arrows, with butts 
 or targets. There was a Butts Field at Kensington 
 Gore. 
 
 St. George's Fields were still fields in reality, with 
 only a sprinkling of houses. But all about the foot of 
 the bridge was a closely inhabited district, containing 
 the remains of many fine buildings of older times than 
 these. To the west of St. Saviour's Church was an old 
 Gothic Hall, part of the Bishop of Winchester's Palace. 
 It was let in small tenements and divided by floors, though 
 the roof was worthy to be compared with that of West- 
 minster Hall. Rochester House, another palace of the 
 same kind, stood where the Borough Market is now. 
 Near the church were the cloisters, where Lord Montagu 
 built his house after the Suppression. Monteagle House 
 was nearer the bridge, and was pulled down in 1831. 
 There is no evidence in support of the local tradition that
 
 268 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 here Lord Monteagle received the famous letter which 
 led to the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot : in fact, there 
 is no proof that anyone of the name ever occupied the 
 house, which at the time of its demolition was not more 
 than one hundred years old. 
 
 The Globe, Shakespeare's theatre, was on part of the 
 ground now occupied by Barclay and Perkins's brewery. 
 It was abandoned at the time of the Parliament's pro- 
 clamation against theatrical entertainments, and was 
 never afterwards revived. 
 
 A little way down the river from Southwark was 
 Rotherhithe, a mere village, generally called Redriff. 
 Here was the Greenland Dock, into which ships laden 
 with whales 1 blubber were brought. It was a hundred 
 years old, but was looked upon in those days as quite 
 a wonder. The new church was just finished at this 
 time. The tower and spire are remarkable. The number 
 of houses about this time was about 1,500, and the place 
 was growing rapidly. 
 
 A little way off, across the fields, was Bermondsey. 
 Tea gardens and grounds like Cremorne were established 
 there after the discovery of the Bermondsey Spa. There 
 were some remains still standing of the Abbey and the 
 King's Palace, all of which are gone now. In those days 
 the parish contained only about 2,500 houses. 
 
 We thus obtain some idea of the size and appearance 
 of South London a hundred years ago. North London 
 was just as different. Hampstead and Highgate were a 
 long way off, and were occupied by the villas of various 
 noblemen and gentlemen. But we pause not to notice 
 them ; they were, in those days, as little accounted a part 
 of London as we should account Richmond or Harrow. 
 The western extremity of the town was at the Tyburn 
 Turnpike mentioned^above.
 
 LONDON A CENTURY AGO. 269 
 
 It is hard to understand how persons who were occasion- 
 ally in the habit of using such phrases as " the mildness 
 and humanity of English law," except in comparison 
 with that of France, could have allowed their gaols to be 
 so mismanaged as they were. By the beginning of the 
 nineteenth century some improvements had been intro- 
 duced. The change began when, in 1773, John Howard 
 happened to be sheriff of Bedfordshire. His attention 
 was called to the fact that, after trial and acquittal, prisoners 
 were seldom discharged. He then found the reason 
 to be that the gaolers had no salary but the fees to be 
 paid by each prisoner, and that these were seldom forth- 
 coming. He endeavoured to obtain a mitigation of this 
 evil, and travelled throughout England to search for 
 information on the subject. In London, in Howard's time, 
 debtors and felons were almost always confined together : 
 men and women in many cases ; men, women, and children 
 in some. A woman with a baby at the breast was hanged 
 at Tyburn for stealing a piece of lace worth two shillings. 
 There were several cases of children dying of cold in prison. 
 There were no prison surgeons in London, except at New- 
 gate and three other of the most recently erected prisons. 
 The gaolers always rented the prisons, and made what 
 they could out of the prisoners. At the entrance of 
 every gaol was a tap or public-house, kept by the gaoler 
 himself in most cases, but sometimes by one of the prisoners. 
 At the Marshalsea, in Southwark, the tap was kept by 
 a pnsoner-for-debt from the King's Bench, which was 
 so near that he could attend to his business without going 
 beyond the bounds or ' ' rules.' ' It was common for persons 
 who were friends of the prisoners to come in and drink 
 with them. In one place there was a skittle alley, ex- 
 clusively used by outsiders, who thus prevented the 
 prisoners from taking exercise in their yard.
 
 270 
 
 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Gaol fever raged so terribly in almost all the London 
 and country prisons that, to mention one example of each, 
 in London in 1750, two judges, the Lord Mayor, several 
 aldermen, the under-sheriff, and many lawyers who had 
 attended the March Sessions at the Old Bailey, together with 
 most of the Middlesex jury, and a considerable number of 
 spectators, died of this distemper ; and at the Taunton 
 assizes, Lent, 1730, the Lord Chief Baron, Serjeant 
 Sheppard, Mr. Pigot, the high sheriff, and more than 
 two hundred other people, died of the same epidemic. 
 Prisons do not appear to have been inspected in any way : 
 nay, they were often private property— the Gate House, 
 the chief prison for Westminster, belonged to the Dean 
 and Chapter, and the town gaol of Salisbury to the Bishop 
 — and this gave rise to many abuses, the gaoler being 
 appointed, not for his humanity, nor for any other quality 
 except his power of wringing a good rent out of his 
 wretched charge. In most places there was no provision 
 made for feeding the prisoners, except a few pence worth 
 of bread in the day. In others, charitable persons gave 
 small sums of money to be applied in this way, and others 
 sent meat and provisions of various kinds. Legacies, too, 
 were sometimes left. They were, however, administered 
 as charitable legacies too often were administered in 
 those days. No bedding, or straw even for bedding, 
 was allowed in any prison except out of the charity of 
 private individuals. Water had often to be fetched iong 
 distances by prisoners in irons. Even air was often denied 
 through the operation of the window-tax, which had to 
 be paid by the gaoler. 
 
 Another shocking abuse arose from the distances 
 prisoners had in many cases to go for trial. There were 
 no prison vans, and you might often meet along a country 
 road a gang of unhappy creatures— men, women, and
 
 LONDON A CENTURY AGO. 271 
 
 children— dragging heavy irons to prevent escape, and 
 walking— or rather creeping— perhaps fourteen or fifteen 
 miles to the assize town. When they arrived there, a 
 room or two would be hired for their occupation till after 
 the sessions, probably in some public-house, and there they 
 would all— men, women, and children, as I have said 
 — be shut up together, tired, filthy, starving : so that 
 it is no wonder their shrieks and cries disturbed the 
 whole neighbourhood ; no wonder that Mr. Howard 
 was informed at Aylesbury of two men whose toes had 
 mortified after their journey from Hertford ; or that 
 a prisoner told him that he and fifteen others were 
 confined in a very small room at Reigate, awaiting their 
 trial at quarter sessions, and were almost suffocated. The 
 keeper confirmed the statement. Yet this man was 
 only arrested in order to oblige him to maintain a child, 
 and being unable at a strange place like Reigate to find 
 securities, was sent back to the County Bridewell, in St. 
 George's Fields, for an indefinite term. This same Bride- 
 well is a fair sample of all. There was no glass in the 
 windows, only iron bars. There were no fires, nor was 
 any firing allowed. The sick prisoners lay on the floor ; 
 no bedding ; no straw ; allowance, l^d. worth of bread 
 per diem ; convicts and all other prisoners together ; 
 no infirmary. And yet in this hell upon earth many 
 unfortunates who had committed no crime, and had yet 
 to be tried, were confined. Before trial they had, perhaps, 
 to wait six months or more, and then to undergo the 
 misery of a journey such as I have described to Reigate 
 or Kingston. 
 
 When the trial came on, it is not wonderful to find 
 that neither prisoners nor judges w r ere very careful as to 
 the punishment. Almost all crimes were punished alike : 
 before 1783 it was a journey in a cart up Hoi born Hill
 
 272 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 to Tyburn for prisoners in London itself, and the gallows 
 when they got there. In May, 1801, eighteen prisoners 
 were condemned to death at a single sessions, three of 
 them women. A hundred vears hence it mav be difficult 
 to identify any part of the site of the gallows. They 
 had been removed further and further westward from 
 Smithfield, where they must have spoiled the view of old 
 gables like those at the corner of Hosier Lane and Cow 
 Hill. Next they were in St. Giles's Fields— probably very 
 near the spot at which Bloomsbury Street crosses Oxford 
 Street ; in 1449, or earlier, they had gone as far as 
 Stratford Place, where there was a conduit with other 
 civic institutions— including, of course, a banqueting house. 
 The Tyburn gallows were erected at a place to the west 
 of Marylebone Lane— probably, at first, almost adjoining 
 it ; and as houses came nearer the open space the fatal 
 tree was moved further, till it took up its most permanent 
 abode at a place where it was almost certain to remain 
 open on two sides at least. This was at the angle formed 
 by the junction of the Edgware and Oxford roads, faced 
 by the park on one side and by open country on two others. 
 On the right-hand side was an inn, where the sheriffs 
 and other officials dined after the executions. A stage, 
 much resembling the grand stand at a race, was erected 
 in front of this house for the spectators. The gallows 
 were removed after each performance, and were deposited 
 in the inn-yard till they were next required. In 
 J. T. Smith's "London" (1815) we read that "a 
 gallows was erected on the mornings of execution, con- 
 sisting of two uprights and a cross-beam. On the west 
 side of the road were two open galleries for spectators e 
 these were standing in my time. The keys of one of 
 them were kept by a squabby woman of the name of 
 Douglas, commonly called Mammy Douglas, the Tyburn
 
 HOSIER LANE, SM ITH Fl ELD. IN 1809. 
 (From a Print by J. T. Smith.)
 
 .
 
 LONDON A CENTURY AGO. 273 
 
 Pew-opener." After 1783 the beams degenerated into 
 horse-blocks and watering-troughs. A place of execution 
 for soldiers was just within the park boundary, which 
 consisted of a low wall. 
 
 In Hogarth's print of the Execution of the Idle 
 Apprentice a representation of Tyburn in 1747 will be 
 found, and may be considered tolerably accurate. A 
 long avenue of walnut trees commenced just within the 
 park wall. This is on the left of the picture. The wall 
 itself is surmounted by a row of spectators. Behind, on 
 the right, stand the gallows : they are triangular, sup- 
 ported by three stout beams or legs, and must have been 
 set up in the middle of the road. It is often asserted 
 that bones have been found in this neighbourhood in 
 digging foundations. So far, no such discovery has been 
 authenticated, though the remains of Cromwell, Ireton, 
 and Bradshaw were buried under the gallows in 1661. 
 
 It has often been asserted that the gallows stood as 
 far to the west as Connaught Square, and a house there 
 was said to stand on the exact site. This is very unlikely, 
 though, while there were open fields, gibbets may have 
 been sometimes placed in them. Smith, quoted above, 
 knew a man named Watkins who had gathered black- 
 berries on the north side of the road now called Oxford 
 Street " in or about 1762. Two of the fields on which 
 Portman Square was built were named in an old survey 
 " Great and Little Gibbet Fields." The customary place 
 for the execution of the capital sentence was the King's 
 highway or an adjacent " commonable " space. A gibbet, 
 on the other hand, might be set up, like a scarecrow, 
 anywhere. No gibbet or gallows are seen in a view on 
 an earthenware plate in my possession, probably made at 
 Plymouth about 1750, which otherwise agrees very well 
 with Hogarth's.
 
 274 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Every mention of the streets of a century ago calls 
 to our minds the difficulties of locomotion. The roads 
 about London were very bad, and were, moreover, infested 
 with highwaymen. Most people travelled on horsebacki 
 but noblemen and those who were wealthy, by using 
 four horses, or even sometimes six, were able to get about 
 in carriages at great expense. Coaches carrying the 
 mails lumbered along very slowly, and were constantly 
 the prey of highwaymen. Thus, one hundred and twenty 
 years ago, the Chester mail was robbed in the City Road. 
 The Leeds coach was stopped at Holloway in March, 1769, 
 by a single highwayman, who was wounded, but got off. 
 In the dark, a passenger was tied neck and heels and 
 thrown into the basket before he was recognised. From 
 the village of Marylebone to Deptford, a passenger on 
 foot would probably have avoided the Park for fear of 
 robbers, and Park Lane for the same reason, as well as the 
 badness of the road. Along Oxford Road to Holborn, he 
 would pass the labyrinth of streets on the site of which 
 Regent Street now stands, carrying his sword well in 
 hand and his pistols cocked. Perhaps, however, a clergy- 
 man would not have worn a sword, and would have 
 trusted more to liis gown and bands to protect him 
 than to his pistols. But the probability is that I should 
 not have worn the usual costume of a clergyman— - 
 the long black cassock, which still survives in bishops' 1 
 aprons, and the gown and bands, to say nothing of the 
 shovel three-cornered hat and the full-bottomed wig — 
 they were already getting obsolete. Before I got as 
 far as Holborn, I should try to keep company with any 
 respectable-looking person I could find going the same 
 way till we were well past St. Giles's. I would then 
 turn down Chancery Lane, and at Temple Stairs would 
 try to make a bargain with a waterman to row me
 
 LONDON A CENTURY AGO. 275 
 
 down the river to London Bridge. I should cross the 
 bridge on foot, and then, if possible, obtain a hackney 
 coach in Southwark to drive me along the Kent Road 
 towards Deptford. Tins would cost £1 Is. I might, 
 perhaps, get a seat on one of the Greenwich coaches, which 
 were beginning to ply^ morning and evening, as far as 
 Southwark. 
 
 I should not think of returning to distant Haryle- 
 bone the same night, unless I was willing to run the 
 risk of being out all night, and of being, perhaps, 
 robbed and murdered on the way home. The beauty of 
 the severe penal laws was, that if a man robbed you he 
 might as well shoot you, because dead men tell no tales, 
 and if he were caught and convicted he would be hanged 
 just as surely for robbing you as for killing you. It is 
 very odd that our legislators were so long perceiving the 
 effect of their efforts for suppressing crime by severity. 
 I should, as I passed through Southwark, have admired 
 the light of the numberless oil lamps which had been lately 
 placed in St. George's Fields to mark the way, but which 
 served only to make the darkness of the Kent Road more 
 dismal. I should also, in passing through the streets of 
 London, have congratulated myself and the London public 
 on the brilliant illumination made by the oil lamps at 
 almost every corner, and, in some streets, even along both 
 sides of the way at long intervals. Of course, I should 
 not admire this feeble light if I had ever seen gas ; and, 
 bad as London gas is, it is a thousand times better than 
 anything used before. In houses the chief light was 
 tallow candles ; wax was too expensive for common use, 
 and composites had not yet been invented. Even to light 
 your dip you had to go through an elaborate process with 
 a flint and steel and some dry tinder in your tinder 
 box.
 
 276 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 So far the picture is but gloomy. To our modern 
 eyes London even fifty years ago would be full of sights 
 and sounds which would strike us unfavourably. But 
 London was even then better than many Continental 
 cities. We obtain a curious transient glimpse of it and its 
 impression on the mind of a foreigner in the eighteenth 
 century from a pamphlet written in 1788. It was pub- 
 lished at Amsterdam, and must have been an attempt on 
 the part of some Frenchman, exiled by the revolution, to 
 make a little money. It describes in a letter to a friend 
 a Promenade d'Automne en Angleterre, or, as we should 
 say, a holiday run. He is much impressed, and so is his 
 companion, a boy of seventeen, by the journey through 
 Rouen to the coast of Normandy. He never forgets 
 Paris for a moment, and even when he sees the heart 
 of Richard Coeur de Lion it only reminds him of an opera. 
 At Dieppe he embarks for " Brigtemstone " : which he 
 reaches in safety, but characterises as " a miserable village." 
 After some days he proceeds to London. His first excla- 
 mation is at the astonishing greenness of the country, a 
 verdure wanting, he says, in the rest of the world. He 
 is also surprised at the neatness of everything, the absence 
 of beggars, the abundance everywhere — " not a traveller 
 on foot, not a pauper, not a soldier." 
 
 When our Frenchman arrives in London he first 
 remarks the beauty of the dome of St. Paul's and the 
 wide extent of the suburbs. He describes a villa : a 
 small brick house, ornamented with carpets, with tables 
 of mahogany, solid and comfortable chairs, newspapers, 
 and a Bible. " Here the simple artisan works by the side 
 of his wife, who sews and watches her handsome children 
 out of a corner of her eye as they jump about or scramble 
 on the lawn." 
 
 He is well pleased with London. According to the
 
 STONEWARE PLATE, IN AUTHOR'S POSSESSION, BEARING 
 VIEW OF TYBURN GATE, ABOUT 1750
 
 LONDON A CENTURY AGO. 277 
 
 discoveries of the learned, he says, " it was built by Brutus 
 the Trojan, long before the coming of the Romans." He 
 remarks on its great size and population, the multitude 
 of steeples and old edifices, the width of the streets and the 
 foot-paths, the fine squares with their shrubberies, the 
 statues, gilt from head to foot, and the many other features 
 which distinguished London from Paris, even then. On 
 the other hand he sometimes complains of ill-paved lanes, 
 of the smoke, of the funereal tint of a dull day with fog 
 and soot and brown brick. He was much distressed 
 by the bareness of the interior of St. Paul's, in which he 
 complains that they forced him to observe some flags 
 taken from the French. He is greatly pleased with St. 
 Stephen's, Walbrook, which he prefers to St. Paul's, but 
 his chief admiration is lavished on what he calls " With- 
 hall." He remarks with horror on the death of 
 Charles I., little foreseeing, perhaps, that in five short 
 years the King of France was to meet a similar fate in 
 Paris. 
 
 Westminster Abbey pleases our traveller. The banners 
 are admired, but the monuments disgust him. Never- 
 theless he observes an Englishman, who points out to 
 his son the tomb of some hero, and sees the boy redden 
 as his father tells him— not of the glory of the deceased — 
 but that he died doing his duty. 
 
 He notices the order and cleanliness of the hospitals, 
 and makes the strange remark : " I think that hospitals 
 ought to follow the organisation of the English but be 
 managed by Frenchmen." Some of his observations 
 on our courts of justice are less out of date. The Hall 
 of the Old Bailey, he says, is square : the Mayor of London 
 seats himself on a kind of throne, at his side are the seats 
 of the judges, and at the extremities are the two sheriff's 
 in black and scarlet with gold chains. In a separate
 
 278 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 tribune on the left is the jury, waiting in a cold and 
 respectful attitude for the accused. Some of the surround- 
 ings of justice are curious, and not easily explained. " Be- 
 low the tribunal was a sword of justice, and under it a cup, 
 the ancient emblem of forgetfulness ; at its sides are two 
 rods of light, white wood, symbolic of the gentleness which 
 ought to preside at punishment." Our Frenchman's 
 love of emblems seems to have led him astray here, but 
 he is correct when he mentions that flowers, bouquets, 
 and sweet-smelling herbs are distributed to the spectators, 
 and are also spread on the benches of the criminals. He 
 goes on, " The light of Heaven having been invoked, the 
 judge begins his interrogatory." Here his recollections of 
 French methods of procedure evidently confuse him — 
 methods which are the same now, after a hundred years 
 and more of change and revolution among our traveller's 
 countrymen. A man of the world, he remarks, however 
 well-informed or ingenious, could never imagine what 
 tradition of humanity, subtlety and address the judges 
 have acquired in questioning the witnesses. He evidently 
 looked on every one who wore a wig and gown as a judge. 
 While elsewhere, he continues, they try to find a man 
 guilty, here they try to find him innocent. The Court 
 sat till four o'clock, and adjourned for dinner. " The gravity 
 which pervaded this ceremonious repast was in accordance 
 with my feelings," he observes. " Two ceremonies struck 
 me : the grace said by the chaplain before we sat down, 
 and the same ceremony over a large silver-gilt basin of 
 rose-water which went round. At six o'clock the trials 
 were resumed, and twenty-five criminals were condemned 
 to death." The judge spoke in a grave and touching 
 manner, like a father unwilling to punish. Our traveller 
 wished that other countries could adopt the law-giving of 
 the English, though he objected to the punishment of death.
 
 LONDON A CENTURY AGO. 279 
 
 What strikes a modern reader most is the good he 
 recognises in the English character. Could he have 
 foreseen that the tendency of the jurisprudence on this 
 side of the Channel would be to lessen ill-doing and 
 to make punishment less and less revenge for crime, 
 yet more and more deterrent, and could he have 
 prophesied that after a century the erroneous ideas 
 of his countrymen would have been intensified, as we 
 have seen them lately, he might have written in a still 
 more despondent tone. We are inclined to speak of the 
 cruelty and indifference to suffering of our ancestors, yet 
 we find our Frenchman remarking on the fact that in 
 England " three great horses are set to draw on a smooth 
 highway what one horse in France would have to draw 
 over a rough country road." He observes that when 
 a coachman stops for a moment he gives his horses hand- 
 fuls of hay and rubs up the harness. " He is attentive 
 and civil, and unlike the French cocker." What most 
 astonishes him is the repose everywhere apparent. The 
 quietness of even crowded streets has been mentioned 
 very lately as striking foreign visitors : and one of the 
 best remarks of the gentleman from whom I have quoted 
 so much is, we may hope, still true : " They think much 
 less of the architecture of their theatres than of that of 
 their hospitals."
 
 280 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 KENSINGTON. 
 
 In Search of a Palace — Holland House, its Architecture and 
 Associations — Purchase of Nottingham House by William III. 
 — Its Conversion into Kensington Palace — Sir Christopher 
 Wren and William Kent — The Serpentine — The State Apart- 
 ments — Royal Deaths in the Palace — Queen Anne — Queen 
 Caroline — The Cupola Room — The Room in which Queen 
 Victoria was Born. 
 
 In the winter of 1689 King William III. was in search 
 of a palace. At that time Whitehall and its neighbour 
 St. James's were decreed by an Act passed in the reign 
 of Henry VIII. to be " the Palace of Westminster." They 
 both lay very low, parts of Whitehall being little, if at all, 
 above the level of high water in the Thames, while St. 
 James's stood in an undrained marsh. Vigorous as was 
 the mind of our Dutch King " of glorious, pious and im- 
 mortal memory," it was lodged in a weak, asthmatical 
 body. Winter spent upon or below the level of the river 
 Thames was not calculated to improve the royal lungs. 
 When he took his daily airing, therefore, on the higher 
 ground round London, William endeavoured to find a 
 house within easy reach of the offices of his Government, 
 yet out of the smoke and damp, and suitably surrounded 
 by spacious gardens and a wide, well-timbered park. It 
 so happened that at this time two very beautiful country
 
 KENSINGTON. 281 
 
 houses lay to westward of London, one on the road to 
 Kensington, the other beyond that village, both belonging 
 to noblemen who had other residences nearer town, and 
 both, it was understood, if not actually in the market, 
 yet at his Majesty's disposal for a moderate price. It 
 would seem that in going to look at Holland House, William 
 passed near Nottingham House. The second Earl of 
 Nottingham had not yet succeeded to the title and estate 
 of his cousin the Earl of Winchilsea, but the other earl, the 
 owner of Holland House, had become Earl of Warwick 
 as well, and his second suburban residence was at a place 
 marked for us by Warwick Court, near Gray's Inn. 
 
 Nottingham House could not boast of the beautiful 
 architecture which Sir W r alter Cope had bestowed on 
 Holland House— Cope's Castle, as it was locally called 
 before it was inherited by the Earls of Holland. Both 
 had belonged to the Rich family after the marriage of 
 Henry Rich, first Lord Kensington, with Cope's heiress. 
 Before his marriage he had lived near Church Lane in 
 what had probably been the manor house of Neate, or 
 Neyt, and had belonged to the Abbots of Westminster. 
 The Abbots had owned two manors between London and 
 Kensington: Hyde, afterwards Hyde Park, and Neyt, 
 where they had a country house. The Finches obtained 
 the place when the Riches went to Cope's Castle, and 
 the house, with its gardens and park, lay on King William's 
 road as he drove to see Lord Warwick's residence in 1689. 
 
 Holland House is interesting to Londoners as the relic 
 of an age and a phase of manners now long gone by. And 
 it is, moreover, interesting intrinsically for three things 
 in which it has few rivals in England ; its beauty, its 
 historical associations, and the works of art it contains. 
 It is, to begin with the first of these, a very charming 
 specimen of a style of architecture which should commend 
 s #
 
 282 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 itself to the tastes of Englishmen, as the last of native 
 growth. The development of art in building presents 
 a regular series or succession, from the days when our 
 Saxon ancestors dwelt in wooden huts or in hovels of 
 mud and timber, to the days when Sir Walter Cope founded 
 the turrets of Cope Castle, in the manor of West Town, 
 Kensington, and when his son-in-law, the first Earl of 
 Holland, changed its name to Holland House and com- 
 pleted the building. There is, perhaps, no contrast in 
 nature more pleasing than the artificial one between 
 red brick and green trees. It makes the square 
 mansion of the Georgian period look picturesque in 
 a well-timbered park ; and as we approach Holland 
 House from among the narrow, crowded streets or 
 the lath-and-plaster of the new suburbs, the views 
 through an avenue of ancient elms, green even in London, 
 of the quaint red turrets, the shaped gables, the arcaded 
 terraces, the many-paned oriels, are as charming as 
 anything that has been built so near London since. 
 
 We first see the south side of the house. It is most 
 picturesque, and was formerly the front. But now the 
 avenue passes to the east of the house, and the hall door 
 is at what used to be the side. Beyond are the pleasure- 
 grounds and the Dutch garden, with their yew hedges, 
 clipped borders, heavy cedars, statues, avenues, arbours, 
 and archways. Everything is in the state in which our 
 generation found it when they came into the world. 
 Nothing of any importance has been altered, for though 
 the public entrance is no longer on the south, the fabric 
 of the building is hardly disturbed. Facing the old 
 entrance, at the south side, were Inigo Jones's piers and 
 gateway, and the front of the house was thus first 
 approached by the visitor. Now, the piers have been 
 removed to a terrace in the pleasure-ground, the porch
 
 
 - ' ■■ ■ 
 
 ■ If? 
 - -^ 1:. 
 
 y 
 
 
 
 >.r'*\ 
 
 
 
 
 I s en 
 
 #7^=111 li 
 
 -jf^ / fp«J*!L..~ *- .(All 
 
 mm? 
 
 si 
 
 'M 
 
 "'■ 
 
 -*• jt/"lilWl 
 
 Q 
 
 Z 
 < 
 
 CO" 
 
 o 
 o 
 h 
 
 co 
 
 UJ 
 
 I 
 h 
 
 z 
 < 
 
 I 
 o 
 
 DC 
 
 D 
 I 
 O 
 
 C3 
 
 Z 
 
 UJ 
 CD 
 
 D 
 O 
 
 I 
 
 z 
 
 UJ 
 Q 
 
 a. 
 
 < 
 
 o 
 
 LL 
 
 o 
 
 g UJ 
 
 r^ I- 
 
 r- < 
 
 o 
 
 I 
 o 
 cc 
 
 D 
 X 
 
 o 
 
 z 
 o 
 
 H 
 O 
 
 z 
 
 CD 
 
 z 
 
 UJ 
 
 Q 
 
 _l 
 O 
 
 UJ 
 
 I 
 h
 
 KENSINGTON. 283 
 
 leads only into a garden, and the chief entrance is at 
 the eastern side. On the whole, however, few exteriors 
 of the period have been less altered than this, a fact 
 the more remarkable when we remember the number 
 of different families by which the estate has been held, 
 and its so dangerous proximity to London. 
 
 The mention of the different owners to whom the 
 place has belonged brings us to the historical associations 
 wluch crowd about Holland House. But the name of 
 Addison must not detain us, nor must that of Charles 
 James Fox. We could linger over the lustory, not 
 altogether edifying, of the mother of the Napiers — a 
 family of heroes. We must recall the open admira- 
 tion of the young King George HI. for the lovely 
 Lady Sarah, and cannot but remember one touching 
 anecdote of her old age : how in 1814, the year before 
 the battle of Waterloo, Dean Andrews preached a sermon 
 in aid of an institution for the relief of the blind. The 
 preacher spoke of the King's blindness, and the interest 
 he had taken in this infirmary from his sad experience. 
 It was in St. James's Church, and a person who was present 
 relates that on one of the seats sat an elderly lady, who 
 appeared to feel deeply these allusions in the sermon. 
 She wept tenderly, and at the end of the service was led 
 out of church, being herself helpless from loss of sight. 
 It was Lady Sarah Napier, and she survived both the 
 King and the Queen, and died in 1826, preserving her 
 remarkable beauty until the end. 
 
 There are more recent and far sadder memories con- 
 nected with Holland House. One deep satisfaction we 
 may enjoy. The place has passed into careful hands. 
 The Hollands are extinct, but their history was a long 
 tragedy to the last ; since the first Lord Holland lost his 
 head on the scaffold at Westminster, a doom seemed to
 
 284 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 hang over the holder of the title, even though the later 
 Hollands were in no way related to those who first lived 
 here. Every care is taken of both house and grounds, 
 and those who have been permitted to enter the old rooms 
 report on the interest which they still afford. Taking 
 the Library Passage alone, a kind of museum in itself, 
 we find there Addison's portrait, about the authenticity 
 of which authorities are so much divided ; next a picture 
 of Benjamin Franklin, then Lope de Vega ; then a copy 
 of Titian's Galileo, and Machiavejli, Locke, and Madame 
 de Sevigne. A sketch of Edward VI. by George Vertue, 
 the engraver, presented by Horace TYalpole, and a drawing 
 by Reynolds of Lord Ossory, are among the minor por- 
 traits. Then a photograph of the members of the Congress 
 of Paris in 1856, with the signatures of the assembled 
 Plenipotentiaries below ; near it a miniature of Catherine 
 of Russia, with an autograph letter annexed. On either 
 side of the Empress are the likenesses of Napoleon and 
 Robespierre ; and near the photograph of the Congress 
 a miniature of the Prince Regent, a little bust of Earl 
 Grey, and a portrait of George Tierney. Fox has written 
 on the back of Robespierre's likeness, " Un scelerat, un 
 lachc, et un fou." In other parts of the room are pen- 
 and-ink sketches of Gibbon, Voltaire and his friends, a 
 letter from Voltaire, the Duke and Duchess of Newcastle 
 at dinner, a crowquill portrait of Prince Charles Edward 
 Stuart, the Young Pretender, Joseph Addison's last 
 signature, and a frame containing a piece of wood from 
 the door of the room at Ferrara in which Ariosto died 
 in 1533. The passage also contains portraits of Milton, 
 Burke, Reynolds, Benedict XIV., and George Selwyn. 
 This anecdote is told of the window of the Library 
 Passage : — "In the southern window is a pane of 
 glass, removed from the window of what, we believe,
 
 KENSINGTON. 285 
 
 used to be Rogers' dressing-room in the east turret. 
 Upon this frame of glass are cut some lines by Hookham 
 Frere. They date from October, 1811, and run as 
 follows : — 
 
 1 May neither fire destroy nor waste impair 
 Nor time consume thee till the twentieth Heir ; 
 May Taste respect thee and may Fashion spare.' 
 
 To which we add a devout amen ! and to which Rogers 
 is reported to have said, ' I wonder where he got the 
 diamond.' " 
 
 But though William III. visited Holland House he 
 did not take it. The Kensington bell-ringers had five 
 shillings for a peal when he passed through the High 
 Street, but a little later they received twelve shillings 
 for celebrating the victory of the Boyne — so greatly had 
 the fortunes of Kensington improved between the two 
 dates. The King did not buy Holland House, but he did 
 buy Nottingham House : and from that time to the present 
 Kensington Palace has taken its place, and a prominent 
 one, in our history. No one can hereafter write of the 
 longest and most glorious reign in the annals of England 
 without at least a passing reference to the birth within 
 these old walls, on the 24th of May, 1819, of the Princess 
 who, eighteen years later, here held her first Council as 
 Queen Victoria. 
 
 The palace has been through strange vicissitudes of 
 late years. In 1897 it was resolved to open the State 
 Apartments to the public ; but neglect and dilapidation 
 had necessitated measures of repair and restoration, and 
 it was only on Queen Victoria's birthday in 1899 that 
 the arrangements were completed. 
 
 Some parts of the old manor house which William III. 
 purchased from Lord Nottingham are still, it is believed,
 
 286 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 in existence. The lower building to the westward of the 
 south front comprises, it is said, the central part and one 
 wing of the Abbot's house of Neyt. Here, or in a previous 
 building on the same site, John of Gaunt, Duke of Lan- 
 caster, lived for a time when the rebels had burnt the 
 Savoy. Here, too, Richard, Duke of York, was living 
 in 1448, when John of Gaunt's great-grandson, Henry 
 V., occupied the throne, and the wars of the Roses, of 
 lork and Lancaster, were beginning to devastate the 
 land. Here, at his manor house of Neyt, the last Lord 
 Abbot of Westminster before the Dissolution died in 1533, 
 and the estate passed into lay hands. 
 
 During the reign of William and Mary great projects 
 took shape, but money had to lie spent in curbing the 
 ambition of Louis XIV. on the Continent, and hi securing 
 the Protestant succession in England. The building 
 of palaces at Hampton Court and Kensington went on 
 but slowly. Though the modern visitor recognises the 
 arms of William of Orange on the gate posts by which 
 he enters from the High Street, and sees W and M com- 
 bined in the weathercock over the portico, it is to Queen 
 Anne that we must attribute the more ornamental features 
 older than the Hanoverian period. The oak staircase by 
 which we ascend at the north-eastern corner is called 
 the Danish Stan, and is said to have been brought from 
 his Northern home by Prince George of Denmark. The 
 beautiful orangery close by and the still more beautiful 
 alcove, now banished to the furthest verge of the Gardens, 
 were designed by Wren for Queen Anne ; and to her we 
 may safely attribute much of the fine avenue which we 
 know as the Broad Walk. Queen Mary died in a room 
 which is not shown, but which looks into the Clock Court 
 and opens from Queen Mary's Privy Chamber, one of 
 the suite through which we pass to the State Apartments.
 
 KENSINGTON. 287 
 
 What Queen Anne and Sir Christopher Wren left 
 unfinished was warmly taken up by Queen Caroline, 
 the Consort of George II. She completed the Gardens 
 by laying out and planting avenues as far as the boundary 
 of Hyde Park, taking up fur the purpose several small 
 farms and other holdings which had been part of the 
 Nottingham domain. The Serpentine, a meandering 
 brook, properly named the YVestbourne, flowed in a string 
 of ponds or waterholes through the eastern lawns. Queen 
 Caroline made a fan channel with an ornamental bridge 
 where the Serpentine passed into Hyde Park, a vast im- 
 provement, though it left the name as a puzzle to posterity. 
 
 Within the Palace, William Kent was employed to 
 complete the State Apartments. We need only mention 
 one of them here. The Cube Room, more correctly 
 called the Cupola Room, as it is less than thirty-five feet 
 high, though the floor is thirty seven feet square, was 
 finished hi 1722. In it Queen Victoria was baptised 
 on the 24th June, 1819. Exactly underneath this great 
 chamber is an arrangement of pillars to support the weight 
 of masonry and marble, forming a low saloon, the Duke 
 of Kent's dining-room, it is said, while he occupied the 
 apartments on that floor. In this pillared room Queen 
 Victoria held her first Council. 
 
 In Kensington Palace, as we have observed, Queen 
 Mary died, on the 27th December, 1694. Here King 
 William died on the 8th February, 1702. Here, too, 
 died successively, Prince George of Denmark (28th October, 
 1708); his widow, Queen Anne (1st August, 1714); 
 and King George II. (25th October, 1700). George III. 
 never made Kensington Palace a residence, and its principal 
 occupants near the end of his reign were two of his sons, 
 the Duke of Kent and the Duke of Sussex. The brother 
 of the two Dukes, William IV., while he continued to
 
 288 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 allow them to reside here, dismantled the State Apartments, 
 removed the pictures and tapestry to Windsor and Hampton 
 Court, and left the Palace to fall almost into ruin. 
 
 One of the last acts of Queen Victoria was to dedicate 
 her birthplace to the use and enjoyment of her people. 
 Since then the Acts have come into force by which among 
 other London suburban boroughs that of Kensington 
 has been established and has been allowed to take over 
 and include within its boundaries so much of the old 
 manor as was covered by the Palace, which previously 
 had been reckoned part of the City as well as of the 
 parish of Westminster. 
 
 In one of the lower rooms, on the same floor as the 
 Council Chamber already mentioned, a small gilt metal 
 plate is let into the north wall. On it is a brief inscrip- 
 tion : " In this room Queen Victoria was born, May 24th, 
 1819." 
 
 J.
 
 INDEX 
 
 Abbot of Westminster, 115 
 Abbot's Hospital, Guildford, 202 
 Albert, Prince, 215 
 Alderm anbury, 223 
 Aldersgate, 4 
 Aldgate, Name of, 2, 48 
 Alfred, King, 54, 89, 204, 251 
 Allhallows, Barking, 149 
 
 „ Staining, 122, 124 
 
 All Saints', King's Langley, G4 
 Anne, Queen, 252, 287 
 Arlington Houso, 242 
 Austin Friars, 121 
 
 Barber-Surgeons, 96, 103 
 Bacon, John. R.A., 227 
 Barebone, Dr., 120 
 Baynard's Castle, rebuilt, 5, 19, 29 
 Beauchamp, Sir John, 96 
 Becket, Thomas, 12, 20, 176 
 Bedford, John T., 226 
 Bedlam, 197 
 Berkhampstead, 105 
 
 ,, Abbot John of, 109 
 
 Bermondsey, 268 
 Bird, Francis, 167 
 Bishop and Alderman, 259 
 « Black Death," 36, 91 
 Blackfriars Bridge, 265 
 Black Prince, 42, 69, 106, 107, 110 
 Brook Shott, 81 
 Buckingham Talace, 84, 240, 247 
 
 Caesar, Sir Julius, 136 
 Camberwell, 216-220 
 Cannon Street, 57, 62 
 Canonbury, Name of, 234, 237 
 
 Caroline, Queen, 61, 213, 287 
 
 Carpenters, 101 
 
 Charing, 7, 8 
 
 Charles I., 203, 210, 277 
 
 „ II., 70, 103, 161, 211, 217 
 Charlotte, Queen, 245, 247 
 Charterhouse School, 36 
 Cheapside, 12, 13 
 Christ Church, 41 
 Churches, 14, 121-153, ft passim 
 Cibber, Cains Gabriel, 163, 172 
 Cicely Duchess of York, 19, 108,110 
 City Companies, 88-104 
 Clerkenwell, 40 
 Clothworkers, 95, 101 
 Coldbath Fields, Name of, 59 
 Coleman Street, 62 
 Compton, Bishop, 252 
 
 „ Lord, 236 
 Cripplegate, Name of, 4, 223 
 Cromwell, Oliver, 97, 134, 138, 210 
 
 „ Thomas, 109 
 Crosby Hall, 14, 28, 31, 135, 136 
 
 Danes, The, 6 
 
 Defoe, Daniel, 133, 134 
 
 Dickens, Charles, 247 
 
 Donne, John, 75 
 
 Drapers, 95, 99 
 
 Dress in the Fourteenth Century, 
 
 31 
 Drinkpin, 257 
 
 Eastcheap, 16 
 Edgware Road, 272, 274 
 Edward I., 7, 14, 18, 93, 223, 231 
 „ II., 11, 14, 19,41,67, 91,92
 
 290 
 
 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 Edward III., 1, 3, 13, 30, 43, 65, 
 98, 93, 109 
 IV., 2, 3, 19, 30, 92, 90, 
 110, 227 
 „ VI., 222 
 „ VII, 64 
 „ the Confessor, 259 
 Elizabeth, Queen, 95, 96, 103, 111, 
 
 235 
 Ely Cathedral, 166 
 „ Place, 9 
 
 Falkland, Lord, 1 1 1 
 Farringdon, 114, 115 
 Fenchurch, Name of, 16 
 Fergusson on St. Paul's, 255 
 Finsbuiy, Name of, 3 
 Fishmongers, 98, 101 
 Fitzgerald, Captain Robert, 175 
 Folkmote, 73 
 Friary, St. James's, 2T1 
 Friary Street, 201 
 Fry, Mrs., 51 
 Fuller, Thomas, 188 
 Furniture, 29 
 
 Gaveston Piers, 67 
 
 George III, 226, 230, 237, 245, 264 
 
 „ IV., 247 
 German Chapel, 211 
 Gibbons, Grinling, 103, 172 
 Gibson, Bishop, 170 
 Goldsmith, Oliver, 238 
 Gordon, General, 176, 177 
 Goring House, 83, 241 
 Gracechurch, Name of, 16 
 Great Fires, 72, 76, 79, 123, 251 
 Grey Friars, 1 1 
 Guildford, 200 
 
 Guildhall, 13, 15, 23, 44, 221, 223, 
 228, 258 
 Crypt, 232 
 Guilds, 88, 89, 90, 93, 221 
 Gwilt and St. Paul's, 163, 165, 167 
 
 Haberdashers, 95 
 Hackney, Name of, 3 
 Handel, 174 
 Henry L, 48, 209 
 
 „ II, 222, 224 
 
 „ HI, 9,41,66, 123,204, 223 
 
 „ V, 41, 15, 34, 43, 227 
 
 „ VI, 27 
 
 „ VII, 91 
 
 „ VIII, 7, 36, 38, 84, 97 
 129, 140, 144, 187, 280 
 Hereford Gardens, 263 
 Hockley, Name of, 9, 59 
 Holbein, Hans, 144, 209 
 Holborn, 7, 9, 24, 61, 81, 274 
 Holland House, 281 
 Hollar, 74 
 
 Hookham Frere, 285 
 Hope, Mr., 263 
 Hour Glass, 189 
 Houses in the Fourteenth Century, 
 
 25, 26 
 Howard, John, 175, 183, 269, 271 
 Hnsting Court, 92 
 Rolls, 230 
 
 Incent, Dean, 112 
 Digram, Bishop, 184, 185 
 
 James I, 83, 96, 97, 99, 111, 241 
 
 „ II, 163, 228 
 Jane, Queen, 227 
 John, King, 5, 73 
 
 „ of Gaunt, 69, 187, 286 
 Johnson, Dr., 51, 246 
 Jones, Sir Horace, 118, 226 
 Jones, Inigo, 76-80, 162, 199, 282 
 
 Katharine, Queen, 34 
 Kensington Palace, 285-288 
 King's Langley, 64-70 
 Knightrider Street, 27, 73 
 Knightsbridge, 85 
 
 Landseer, 178 
 Laud, Bishop, 148
 
 INDEX. 
 
 291 
 
 Lawrence the painter, 178 
 
 Leighton, Lord, 177, 178 
 
 Library of St. Paul's, 2.30-2G1 
 
 Lincoln's Inn, G 
 
 Lisbon, 41 
 
 London Bridge, 17, 265-267 
 
 ,, County of, 55 
 Ludgate Circus, 119 
 
 „ Name of, 4, 47, 115 
 Lyte, Sir H. Maxwell, 257 
 
 Haddocks, Sir Benjamin, 83 
 
 Mansion House, 231 
 
 Marochetti, 176 
 
 Marshalsea, 265 
 
 Mary I., Queen, 69, 163, 227 
 ,, II., Queen, 287 
 
 Marylebone, 274 
 Matfelon, Name of, 4 
 Matilda, Queen, 130 
 Medicine in the Fourteenth Cen- 
 tury, 34 
 Mentmore, 155 
 
 Mercers, 12, 94, 97, 98, 99, 100, 103 
 Merrow, near Guildfoi-d, 207 
 Milford Lane, 119 
 Milton, John, 132 
 Minories, Name of, 3, 40 
 Monkfl and Friars, 38, 39 
 Mylne, Robert, 170, 178 
 
 Nelson, 175, 178 
 
 Newgate, Name of, 10; 45, 48, 53 
 Newington Causeway, 267 
 Northumberland House, 194, 282, 
 286 
 
 Overcrowding, 35 
 
 Oxford Street, 262, 263, 273, 274 
 
 Park Street, 201 
 
 Paternoster Row, 1 1 
 
 l'awnbroking, 15 
 
 Pepys, 103, 150, 152, 192, 203, 211 
 
 Perrault and the Louvre, 166 
 
 Pestilence, 35 
 
 Phillimore, Miss, and St. Paul's, 255 
 
 Ponsonby, Sir W., 175 
 
 Portsokcn, 222 
 
 Poynter, Sir E., 251 
 
 Printers, 9G 
 
 Prior Bolton, 128, 129, 135, 234 
 
 Queen Square, 81 
 
 Rah. re, 126, 129, 130 
 Regent, The Prince, 214 
 Rennie, 1 78 
 
 Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 178 
 Richard, King of the Romans, 106, 
 108 
 II., 9, 17, 19, 25, 32, 38, 
 42, 67, 94 
 „ III., 227 
 Richmond, Sir William, R.A., 184 
 Rodney, Lord, 175 
 Roman Road, 84 
 Roses, Wars of the, 42, 287 
 Rotherhithe, 268 
 Rothschild, Hon. Walter, 156 
 Rovezzano, 178 
 Rugmere, 59 
 
 Savoy, The, 8, 42, 188 
 "Schmidt, Father," 173 
 Scott, Sir Gilbert, 218 
 Segrave House, 94 
 Serpentine, 61, 287 
 Shakespeare, 95, 268 
 Sharpe, Dr. Reginald, 225, 231 
 Sheibourne Lane, 62 
 Sherehog, 257 
 Shire Lane, 117 
 Show Well Lano, 5 
 Smith, James, 227 
 Smithfield, 9 
 Spencer, Sir John, 138 
 Spital Fields, Name of, 3 
 St. Albans, 124 
 ,, Andrew Ilndershaft, 139
 
 292 
 
 LONDON AFTERNOONS. 
 
 St. Clements, 6 
 
 „ Erkenwald, 124 
 
 „ Ethelburga, 124, 138 
 
 ,, George's Fields, 267 
 
 ,, Giles's, Cripplegate, 130 
 
 ,, Helen's, Bishopsgate, 14, 134, 
 137 
 
 ,, James's Church, 284 
 Palace, 288 
 
 ,, Katharine Coleman, 122 
 Cree, 7, 9, 121 
 
 ,, Katharine's Dock, 267 
 
 ,, Lawrence's Church, 225 
 
 ,, Luke's Church, 61 
 
 ,, Martin Outwich, 125 
 
 „ ,, Orgar, 125 
 
 ,, Mary Aldermary, 12, 122, 123 
 
 ,, Mary-lo-Bow, 125 
 
 ,, Olave's, Hart Street, 150 
 
 ,, Paul's, 160-186, 253 
 
 „ ,, Library, 250-261 
 
 ,, ,, Keredos, 184 
 
 ,, „ Old, 71-80 
 
 ,, Peter's at Rome, 165, 169, 170, 
 172 
 
 „ Peter-le-Poor, 122 
 
 ,, Saviour's, 19 
 
 „ Stephen's, Wallbrook, 277 
 
 „ Thomas's Road, 219 
 Stevens, Alfred, 177, 179, 180, 182, 
 
 251 
 Stonebridge Close, 85 
 Stow, John, 24, 75, 119, 141 
 Strand, 6 
 
 Stratford Place, 59 
 Street Lamps, 28 
 Strong, Thomas, 170 
 „ Edward, 170 
 
 Surgery in the Fourteenth Cen- 
 tury, 35 
 
 Temple, The, 5 
 
 Bar, 45, 58, 116, 119 
 
 ,, Outer, 120 
 Thames. The, 64, 57, 58, 61, 82, 84, 
 
 106, 265 
 Thornhill, James, 163 
 Tijou, 173, 183 
 Tower, The, 5, 17, 31, 43 
 
 „ Hill, 2, 17 
 Traitor's Gate, 20 
 Tring Museum, 155 
 Turstin, Alderman, 260 
 Tyburn, 36, 59, 87, 60, 271-273 
 
 Victoria, Qucon, 215, 228, 247, 248, 
 287, 288 
 
 Wallbrook, 13, 20, 62 
 Walpole, Horace, 79 
 Weale, 256 
 Weavers' Names, 95 
 Wellington, Duke of, 180, 248 
 Westbourne, 61, 287 
 Westminster Abbey, 115, 277 
 
 ,, Hall, 32 
 
 Whitehall, 7 
 Whitney, Constance, 133 
 William III., 280, 285, 286, 287 
 
 „ IV., 248 
 Windsor, 214 
 
 Wren, Sir Christopher, 136, 161, 
 178, 212, 250, 252 
 
 [ York, Duke of, 65, 67, 69 
 
 Printed by Casskll & Company, Limited, La Belle Sauvage, London, E.C.
 
 Selections 
 
 from 
 
 Cassell & Company's 
 
 Publications. 
 
 7 C. — IO.OI.
 
 Selections from Casscll & Compa?iy } s Publications. 
 
 Illustrated, Fine-Art, and other Volumes. 
 
 Admirable Lady Biddy Fane, The. 
 By Frank Barrett 3s. 6d. 
 
 Adventures of Captain Horn, The. 
 By Frank Stockton. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Adventure, The World cf. With 
 Stirring Pict >res and 18 Coloured 
 Plates. In Three Vols. 5s. each. 
 
 Afield and Afloat. By Frank 
 
 Stockton. 6s. 
 Alice of Old Vincennes. By 
 
 Maurice Thomfs >n. 6s. 
 
 Ambassador's Adventure, The. By 
 
 Allen Upward, ts. 
 An Eton Boy's Letters. By Nugent 
 
 Banker. 5s. 
 Animals, Popular History of. By 
 
 Henry .-cherren. KZ.S. With 
 
 13 Coloured Plates, &c. 6s. 
 
 Army Business, The, and its London 
 Office. By a Colonel in usiness. is. 
 
 Art, Sac ea With nearly 200 Full- 
 pag Illustrations. o.->. 
 
 Art, The Me g izine of. With a Series 
 of Hull-page Plates, and hundreds 
 of lllu nations. Yearly Vol., 21s. 
 
 Artisti3 Anatomy. ^y Prof. M. 
 
 Duval. Cheap Edition. 3s. 6d 
 
 Automobile, The : Its Construction 
 and Man3gjment. Translated 
 from Gerard Lave gne's " » anuel 
 Th oretique et I ratique de l'Auto- 
 mobile sur Route." With Additions 
 and New 111 str tions. t.dited by 
 Paul N. Hasluck. ios. 6d. net. 
 
 Avenger of Blood, The. By J. 
 MacLaren Cobban. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Awkward Squads, The, and other 
 Ulster Stories. By Shan F. 
 Bulluck. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Ballads and Songs. By W. M. 
 Thacki-ray. Illustrated. 6s. 
 
 Barber, Charles B irton, The Works 
 of. V\ ith 41 Plates and int'odnc- 
 tion by Harry Hukniss. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Behind the Sc ;nes in the Transvaal. 
 Bj D. Mai. kay Wilson. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Berry, D.D., Rev C. A., Life of. By 
 
 the i\ev. J. S. Dkummond. 6s. 
 
 Birds' Nests, British : How, Where, 
 and When to Find and Identify 
 Them. By R Kearton, F.Z.S. 
 Illustrated from Photographs by 
 C. Kearton. 21s. 
 
 Birds' Nests, Eggs, and Egg-Collec- 
 ting. By R. Kearton, F.Z.S. 
 With 22 Coloured Plates of Eggs. 
 Cloth gilt, 5s. 
 
 Birds, Our Rarer British Breeding : 
 Their Nests, Eggs, and Breeding 
 Haunts. By R. Kearton, F.Z.S. 
 Illustrated from Photographs by 
 C. Kearton. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Bittar Heritage, A. By J. Bloun- 
 
 delle- Burton. 6s. 
 Black Arrow, The. By R. L. 
 
 STEVENSON. 6s. Popular Edition, 
 
 3s. 6d. 
 Beer War, Cassell's Illustrated 
 
 History of the. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Br. t tin's Roll of Glory; or, The 
 Victoria Cross, its Heroes and 
 their Valour. By D. H. Parry. 
 Illustrated. Cheap Eaition. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Britain's Sea-Kir gs and Sea-Fights. 
 Profusely Illustrated. 7s. od. 
 
 British B tllads. With 300 Original 
 
 Illustrations. Cheap Edition. Two 
 Vols, in One. Cloth, 7s. 6d. 
 
 British Battles on Land and Sea. 
 By James Grant. With about 
 800 Illustrations. Cheap -Edition. 
 In Four Vols., 3s. 6d. each. 
 
 British Sculpture and Sculptors of 
 To-day. By M. H. Spielmann. 
 Illustrated. Paper covers, 5s. net ; 
 cloth, 7s. 6d. net. 
 
 Buildin g World. Half-Yearly Vols. , 
 4s. 6d. each. 
 
 By a Hair's Breadth. By Headon 
 Hill. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Campaign Pictures of the War in 
 South Africa (1899-1900). Letters 
 from the Front. ByA.G. Hales. 
 6s 
 
 Canaries and Cage-Birds, The Illus- 
 trated Book of. With 56 Facsimile 
 Coloured Plates, 35s.; half-morocco,
 
 Selections f rum Cassell 5r* Company's Publications. 
 
 Cassell's Magazine. Half -Yearly 
 Volume 5s.; Yearly Volume, 8s. 
 
 Cathedrals, Abbeys, and Churches 
 of En^lind and Wales. Descrip- 
 tive Historical, Pictorial. Popular 
 Edition, 1 wo Vob., 12s. the set. 
 
 Catriona. By R. L. Stevenson. 
 6s. J'onular Edition. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Chinese Crisis, The Story of the. 
 B. Alexis Krausse. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Chinese Pictures. Notes on Photo- 
 graphs made in China. By Mrs. 
 Bishop, F. K.G.S. (Isabella Bird) 
 With 60 lllustrttions from Photo- 
 graphs by the Author. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Chinese Porcelain. By Cosmo Monk- 
 house, illustrated. 30s. net. This 
 Edition is limited to 1,000 copies. 
 
 Chums. The Illustrated Paper for 
 1 oys. Yearly Volume, 8s. 
 
 Civil Service, Guide to Employment 
 in the. Paper, is.; cloth, is. 6d. 
 
 Clinical Manuals for Practitioners 
 and Students of Medicine. A List 
 of V.i u.urs lorwarded post free on 
 appl cition to the Publ shers. 
 
 Clyde, Cassell's Pictorial Guide to 
 the. Unh 11 Coloured Flates, 
 18 Maps, and other Illustrations. 
 Papei covers, 6d.; cloth, is. 
 
 Colour. By Prof. A. H. Church. 
 W itn Coloured Plates. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Conning Tower, In a; or, How I took 
 H.M.S. "Majestic" into Action. 
 
 By 1 '. O. ARNOLD-FORSTER, M.A. 
 
 lllustra <-d, 6d.; cloth, is. 
 Cookery, Cassell's Dictionary of. 
 
 With about 9,000 Recipes. 5s. 
 Cookery for Common Ailments, is. 
 Cookery, a Year's. By Phyllis 
 
 Hkoane. Cheap Edition, is. 
 Cookery Book, Cassell's Universal. 
 
 By Lizzie Heritage. With 12 
 
 Coloured Plates. 6s. 
 Cookery, Cassell's Shilling, is. 
 Cookery, Vegetarian. By A. G. 
 
 Payne. Cheap Edition, is. 
 Cooking by Gas, The Art of. By 
 
 Marie J. Sugg. Illustrated. 2s. 
 Ccp/right in Books, The Law and 
 
 History of. By Augustine Bir- 
 
 Sell, M.P. 3s. 6d net. 
 
 Countries of the World, The. By 
 Robert Brown, M.a., F.L.S., 
 &c. Cheap Edit inn. Illustrated. 
 In Six Vols. 6s. each. 
 
 Cupid's Garden. By Ellen Thok- 
 neycropt Fowler. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Cyclopaedia, CasseU's Concise. With 
 about 000 Illustrations. 5s. 
 
 Cyclopaedia, CasseU's Miniature. 
 
 Containing 30,000 subjects. Ciieap 
 
 and Revised Edition. Limp cloth, 
 
 is.; cloth gilt, is. 6d. 
 Dainty Breakfasts, The Dictionary 
 
 of. By Phyllis Browne, is. 
 
 Dante in Paradise, With : Readings 
 from the "Paradise" By Rose 
 E. Selfe. 6 illu- (rations. 2s. 
 
 " Death or Glory Boys," The. The 
 Story of the 17. h Lancers. By 
 D. H. Parry. 6s. 
 
 Dog, IUustrated Book of the. By 
 Veko Shaw, B. \. With 28 Col- 
 oured Plates. Cloth bevelled, 3.5s. ; 
 half-morocco, 45s. 
 
 Doings of Raffles Haw, The. By 
 A. Cowan Doyle. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Dore" Bible, The. With 200 Full- 
 page Illustrations by Dore. 15s. 
 
 Dore Don Quixote, The. With 
 about 400 Illustrations by Gus- 
 TAVE Dore. Cheap Eaition. 
 
 Cloth, 10s. 6d. 
 
 Dore Gallery, The. With 230 Illus- 
 trations by Dore. 42s. 
 
 Dore's Dante's Inferno. Illustrated 
 by Gustave Dore. Large 4to 
 Edition, cloth gilt, 21s. 
 
 Dora's Dante's Purgatory and Para- 
 dise. Illustrated by Gustave Dore. 
 Cheap Edition. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Dore's Milton's Paradise Lost. Illus- 
 trated by Dore. 4to, 21s. Popular 
 Edition. Cloth or buckram. 7s. 6d. 
 Cheap Edition. In One Vol., 12s. 6d. 
 
 Earth's Beginning, The. By Sik 
 Robert Ball, LL.D. Illustrated. 
 7s. 6d. 
 
 Earth, Our, and its Story. By Dr. 
 Robert Brown, F. L.S. With 
 Coloured Pbtes and numerous En- 
 gravings. Cheap Edition. 3 Vols., 
 5s. each.
 
 4 Selections from Cassell 6° Company's Publications. 
 
 Egypt : Descriptive, Historical, and 
 Picturesque. By Prof. G. Ebeks. 
 With 800 Original Engravings. 
 Popular Edition. In Two Vols. 42s. 
 
 Electric Current, The. How Pro- 
 duced and How Used. By R. 
 
 MULLJNEUX WALMSLEY, D.Sc, 
 
 &c. Illustrated. 10s. 6d. 
 
 Electricity in the Service of Man. 
 Illustrated. 7s 6d. 
 
 Electricity, Practical. By Prof. W. 
 E. Ayrton, F.R.S. New and 
 Enlarged Edition, 9s. 
 
 England and Wales, Pictorial. With 
 upwards of 320 Illustrations from 
 Photographs. 9s. 
 
 England, A History of. From the 
 Landing of Julius Caesar to the 
 Present Day. By H. O. ARNOLD- 
 Forster, M.A. Fully Illustrated. 
 5s. Cloth gilt, gilt edges, 6s. 6d. 
 
 English Dictionary, Cassell's. Giving 
 Definitions of more than 100,000 
 Words and Phrases. 3s. 6d. 
 
 English History, The Dictionary of. 
 Edited by Sidney Low, B.A., and 
 Prof. F. S. Pulling, M.A. 7s. 6d. 
 
 English Literature, Morley's First 
 Sketch of. 7s. 6d. 
 
 English Literature, The Story of. 
 By Anna Buckland. 3s. 6d. 
 
 English Writers. By Prof. Henry 
 Morley. Vols. I. to XI., 5s. each. 
 
 Familiar Butterflies and Moths. 
 By W r . F. Kikby, F.L.S. With 
 18 Coloured Plates. 6s. 
 
 Familiar Wild Birds. By W. 
 Swaysland. With Coloured Pic- 
 tures by A. TllORBURN and others. 
 Cheap Edition, Four Vols., 3s. 6d. 
 each. 
 
 Family Doctor, Cassell's. By A 
 Medical Man. Illustrated. 6s. 
 
 Family Lawyer, Cassell's. An En- 
 tirely New and Original Work. By 
 A Barrister-at-Law. 10s. 6d. 
 
 Father Stafford. By Anthony 
 Hope. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Field Hospital, The Tale of a. By 
 
 SirFKEDERICKTREVES, K.C.V.O., 
 
 F.R.C.S. With 14 Illustrations. 6s. 
 
 Pield Naturalist's Handbook, The. 
 
 By the Revs. J. G. Wood and 
 Theodore Wood. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Figuier's Popular Scientific Works. 
 Illustrated 3s. 6d. each. 
 The Human Rack. 
 Mammalia. 
 The ocean World. 
 The Insect World. 
 Repi iles and Birds. 
 The World before the Deluge, 
 the vegetable world. 
 
 Franco-German War, Cassell's His- 
 tory of the. Complete in Two 
 Vols. Containing about 500 Illus- 
 trations. Cheap Edition. 6s. each. 
 
 From the Memoirs of a Minister of 
 France. By Stanley Weyman. 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 Fruit Growing, Pictorial Practical 
 By W. P. Wright. Illustrated. 
 Paper covers, is. Cloth, is. 6d. 
 
 Gardening, Pictorial Practical. By 
 W. P. Wright. With upwards 
 of 140 Illustrations. Paper covers, 
 is. Cloth, is. 6d. 
 
 Garden Flowers, Familiar. With 
 200 Full - page Coloured Plates. 
 Cheap Edition. In Five Vols., 
 3s. 6d. each. By Prof. F. Edward 
 Hulme, F.L.S., F.SA. 
 
 Gardener, The. Yearly Volume. Pro- 
 fusely Illustrated. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Gazetteer of Great Britain and Ire- 
 land, CasseU's. With numerous 
 Illustrations and 60 Maps. Six 
 Vols., 5s. each. 
 
 Garden of Swords, The. By Max 
 Pemberton. 6s. 
 
 Giant's Gate, The. By Max Pem- 
 berton. 6s. 
 
 Girl at Cobhurst, The. By Frank 
 
 Stockton. 
 
 6d. 
 
 Gladstone, WiUiam Ewart, The life 
 
 of. Edited by Sir Wemyss Reid. 
 Illustrated. 7s. 6d. Superior 
 Edition, in Two Vols. 9s. 
 
 Gleanings from Popular Authors. 
 Illustrated. Cheap Edition. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Gun and its Development, The. 
 By W. W. Greener. With 500 
 Illustrations. Entirely New Edi- 
 tion. 1 os. 6d. 
 
 Gun-Room Ditty Box, A. By G. 
 Stewart Bowles. With a Pre- 
 face by Rear - Admiral Lord 
 Charles Beresford, M.P. 2s. 
 
 Heavens, The Story of the. By Sir 
 Robert Ball, LL.D. With 
 Coloured Plates. Popular Edition. 
 10s. 6d.
 
 Selections from Casscll & Company's Publications. 
 
 Heroes of Britain in Peace and 
 War. With 300 Original Illustra- 
 tions. Cheap Edition. Complete 
 in One Vol. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Highway of Sorrow, The. By 
 Hesba Sthetton. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Hispaniola Plate, The. By J- 
 Bloundelle Burton. 3s. 6d. 
 
 History, A Foot-Note to. Eight Wars 
 
 of Trouble in Samoa. By ROBERT 
 
 Louis Stevenson. 6s. 
 Houghton, Lord : The Life, Letters, 
 
 and Friendships of Richard 
 
 Monckton Milnes, First Lord 
 
 Houghton By - i r W e m y s s R 1: 1 d. 
 
 In 1 wo Vols. , with Two Portraits. 
 
 32s. 
 Hygiene and Public Health. By 
 
 B. Akthuk Whitelegge, M.D. 
 
 7s. 6d. 
 la : A Love Story. By A. T. 
 
 Quiller-Couch (Q). 3s. 6d. 
 Impregnable City, The. By Max 
 
 l J EMBi-RTON. 3s. 6d. 
 
 India, Cassell's History of. In One 
 Vol. Cheap Editioii. Illustrated. 
 7s. 6d. 
 
 In Royal Purple. By William 
 
 PlGOTT. 6s. 
 
 Iron Pirate The. By Max Pem- 
 BEKTON. 3s. 6d. People's Edition. 
 6d. 
 
 Kidnapped. By R. L. Stevenson. 
 3s. 6d. People's Edition. 6d. 
 
 Kilogram, The Coming of the ; or, 
 The Battle of the Standards. By 
 H. O. Aknold-Forster, M.A. 
 Illustrated. Cheap Edition. 6d. 
 
 King Solomon's Mines. By H. 
 
 Rider Haggard. Illustrated. 
 
 3s. 6d. People's Edition, 6d. 
 King's Hussar, A. By H. Compton. 
 
 3s. 6d. 
 Kronstadt. By Max Pemberton. 
 
 6s. 
 Ladies' Physician, The. By A 
 
 London Physician. 3s. 6d. 
 Laird's Luck, The, and other Fireside 
 
 Tales. By A. T. Quiller-Couch 
 
 (Q). 6s. 
 Landels, D.D., William. A Memoir. 
 
 By his Son, the Rev. Thomas D. 
 
 Landels, M.A. With Portrait. 
 
 6s. 
 
 Landscape Painting in Water- 
 Colour. By |. Maca'hiktek, 
 R.A. With 23 Co'oured Plates. 5s. 
 
 Lepidus the Centurion A Roman 
 of To-day. By Edwin Lester 
 Arnold, Author of " Phra, the 
 Phoenician." 6s. 
 
 Letts's Diaries and other Time- 
 saving Publications published 
 exclusively by Cassell & Com- 
 pany. (A list free on application.) 
 
 Life of Lives : Further Studies in 
 the Life of Christ. By Dean 
 Farrak. 15s. 
 
 List, Ye Landsmen! By W. Clark 
 Russell. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Little Huguenot, The. By Max 
 Pemberton. New Edition, is. 6d. 
 
 Little Minister, The. By J. M. 
 Barrie. 6s. 
 
 Little Novice, The. By Alix King. 
 6s. 
 
 Little Squire, The. By Mrs. Henry 
 de la Pasture. 3s. 6d. 
 
 London Afternoons. By Rev. W. 
 J. Loftie, F.S.A. Illustrated. 
 10s. 6d. net. 
 
 London, Cassell's Guide to. Illus- 
 trated. New Edition, 6d. ; cloth, 
 is. 
 
 London, Greater. Two Vols. With 
 about 400 Illustrations. Cheap 
 Edition. 4s. 6d. each. 
 
 London, Old and New. Six Vols. 
 With about 1,200 Illustrations and 
 Maps. Cheap Edition. 4s. 6d. 
 each. 
 
 Loveday. By A. E. Wickham. 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 Man in Black, The. By Stanley 
 Weyman. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Man of Millions, A. By Samuel 
 Keightley, LL. D. 6s. 
 
 Marine Painting in Water-Colour. 
 By W. L. Wyllie, A.R.A. With 
 24 Coloured Plates. 5s. 
 
 Masque of Days, A. With 40 pages 
 of Designs in Colour by Walter 
 Crane. 6s. 
 
 Master of Ballantrae. By R. L. 
 Stevenson. 6s. Popular Edition. 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 Mechanics, Cassell's Cyclopaedia of. 
 Edited by Paul N. Haslick. 
 With upwards of 1,200 Illustra- 
 tions. 7s. 6d.
 
 6 Selections from Cassell & Company 's Publications. 
 
 Medicine, Manuals for Students of. 
 
 (W list fo'-ward d pos free ) 
 
 Military Forces of the Crown. 
 Iheir Organisation and Equip- 
 ment. By colonel W. H DANIEL. 
 Illustrate.!. 5s. 
 
 Ilodern Europe, A History of. By 
 C. A. FVFFE, M. ->. Lkcoji Edition. 
 10s. 6d. Library Edition. Iilus- 
 tra ed. 1 hree Vols. 7s. 6d. each. 
 
 Mrs. Cliff's Yacht By Frank 
 Stockton. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Music, Illustrated History of. By 
 F.M1L Naumann. hdued by the 
 Rev. Sir F. A. Goke Ousklf.y, 
 Bar. Illustrated. Cheap Edition. 
 Two Vols. i^s. 
 
 My Lord mike. By E.W. Hornung. 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 National Gallery, The. Editel by 
 S.ir E. J. POVNTEK P.R.A. Illus- 
 trating every Picture in the National 
 Galle. y! In 1 hree Vo s. £14 14s. 
 the se , net. 
 
 National Gallery Catalogue. Pro- 
 fusely Illustrated. 6d. net. 
 
 National Library, Cassell's. 3d. 
 and 6d. List p^st free on appli- 
 cation. 
 
 National Portrait Gallery. Edited 
 bv Lionel Cust, M.A., F.S.A. 
 lllusirating every pic ure in the 
 National Portrait Gallery. Two 
 Vols. £6 6s. net. 
 
 Natural HLstory, Cassell's Concise. 
 By E. 1 ekceyal Wright, M.A., 
 M.D., F.L.S. With several Hun- 
 dred Illustrations. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Natural History, Cassell's. Cheap 
 Edition. With about 2,000 Illus- 
 trations. In Three Double Vols. 
 6s. each. 
 
 Nature and a Camera, With. By 
 Richard Kearton, F.Z.S. With 
 
 Frontispiece, and 180 Pictures from 
 Photographs by C. Kearton. 21s. 
 
 Nature's Wonder Workers.. By 
 
 Kate R. Lovell. Illustrated. 
 
 2s. 6d. 
 New Far East, The. By Arthur 
 
 Di6.->V. Illustrated. Cheap Edition. 
 
 6s. 
 
 North- West Passage, by Land, The. 
 
 By Lord M11.TON and Dr. 
 
 CheADLE. Cheap Edition. 2s. 
 Old Fires and Profitable Ghosts. 
 
 By A. T. Quillek-Couch(Q). 6s. 
 Oj-tics. By Professors Galbraith 
 
 and Halk.HTON. Entirely New 
 
 and Enlarged Edition. Illustrated. 
 
 2s. 6d. 
 Our Bird Friends. By R. Kearton, 
 
 F.Z.S. With 100 Illustrations from 
 
 Photographs by C. Kearton. 5s. 
 
 Our Own Country. With 1,200 
 Illustrations. Cheap Edition. Three 
 Double Vols. 5s. each. 
 
 Oxford, Reminiscences of. By the 
 Rev. W. Tuckwell, M.A. With 
 16 Full-page Illustrations, gs. 
 
 Painting, Practical Guides to. With 
 Coloured Plates : — 
 China painting. 5s. 
 Elementary flower Painting. 3s. 
 Neutral Tint. 5s. 
 
 Flowers, and How to Paint Them. 5s. 
 Manual of Oil Painting. 2s. 6d. 
 macWhirters Landscape Painting in 
 
 water-colour. ss. 
 Wvllie's Marine painting in Water 
 Colour. 5s. 
 Paris, Cassell's Illustrated Guide to. 
 
 Paper, 6d.; cloth, is. 
 Passing of The Dragon, The. By 
 
 F. Jay Ceagh. is. 
 Peel, Sir R. By Lord Rosebery. 
 
 2s. 6d. 
 Penny Magazine, The New. With 
 about 650 Illustrations. In Quarter- 
 ly Volumes. 2s. 6d. each. 
 Peoples of the World, The. By Dr. 
 Robert Brown. In Six Vols. 
 Illustrated. 3s. 6d. each. 
 Peril and Patriotism. True Tales 
 of Heroic Deeds and Startling 
 Adventures. Two Vols, in One. 5s. 
 Personal Recollections. By PI. 
 Sutherland Edwards. 7s. 6d. 
 Phrase and Fable, Dr. Brewer's 
 Dictionary of. New and Enlarged 
 Edition. 10s. 6d. Also in half- 
 morocco. Two Vols. , 15s. 
 Picturesque America. In Four Vols. , 
 \\ ith 4b Steel Plates and 800 Wood 
 I-ngravings. ,£12 12s. the set. 
 Popular edition. i>-s. each. 
 Picturesque Canada. With 'xx> 
 Original Illustrations. Two Vols. 
 £9 9s. the seL
 
 Selections from Cassell & Company's Publications. J 
 
 Picturesque Europe. Popular Edi- 
 tion. In Five Vo's. Et>h con- 
 tanmg 13 Litho PUtes and nearly 
 200 I llustrati ns. 6s. each. Vols. 
 I. and II., The British Isles ; Vols. 
 111., IV., and V., The Continent. 
 Vols. I. and II., bound together, 
 are issued at 10s. 6d. 
 
 Picturesque Mediterranean, The. 
 With Magnificent Illustrations by 
 the lea nig Artists of the Day. 
 Complete in Two Vols. £2 2s. 
 each. 
 
 Pigeons, Fulton's Book of. Edited 
 by Lewis Wright. Revised, En- 
 larged, and Supplemented by the 
 Rev. W. F. LUMLEY. With 50 
 Full-page Illustrations. Popular 
 Edition. 10s. 6d. Original Edi- 
 tion, with 50 Coloured Plates and 
 numerous Wood Engravings. 21s. 
 
 Planet, The Story of Our. By Prof. 
 Bonny, F. R.S. With Coloured 
 Plates and M<ps and about 100 
 Illusirations. Lkeap Eaition, 7s. 6d. 
 
 Playfair, Lyon, First Lord Playfair 
 of Si. Andrews, Memoirs and Cor- 
 respondence of. By Sir Wemyss 
 Rkid. With Two Portraits. Cheap 
 Edition. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Playthings and Parodies. By B a k r y 
 Pain. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Pomona's Travels. By Frank 
 Stockton'. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Potsherds. By Mrs. Henry Birch- 
 
 EnOLGH. 6s. 
 
 Poultry Club Standards, The. With 
 an Introduction by Lewis Wright. 
 Edited by T. Threlford. is., net. 
 
 Poultry, The Book of. By Lewis 
 Wright. Popular Edition. 10s. 6d. 
 
 Poultry, The Illustrated Book of. 
 By Lewis Wright. With 50 
 Coloured Plates. JSiew Edition in 
 Preparation. 
 
 Poultry Keeper, The Practical. By 
 Lewis Wright. With Eight 
 Coloured Plates, and numerous 
 Illustrations in Text. hew and 
 Enlarged Edition. 3s. 6d 
 
 Princess Cynthia, The. By Mar- 
 gukkitk Bryant. With 4 Full- 
 pag^t Illustrations. 6s. 
 
 Puritan's Wife, A. By Max Pem- 
 
 BERTON. 6s. 
 
 Q's Works. 5s. each. 
 
 ♦ F.AD MAN'S ROCK. Also People's Edition, 
 
 •A. 
 
 • the splendid spur. 
 
 tin; astonishing history of troy 
 Town 
 
 '•I Saw THREE Ships," and other Winter's 
 
 Tales. 
 Noughts and Crosses, 
 the dblectakle duchy. 
 Wandering Heath. 
 
 * Also at 3s. 6d. 
 
 Queen's Empire, The. Containing 
 nearly 700 splendid full-page Illus- 
 trations. Complete in Two Vols. 
 9s. each. 
 Queen's London, The. Containing 
 nearly 500 Exquisite Views of Lon- 
 don and its Environs. Enlarged 
 Edition. 10s. 6d. 
 Queen Victoria. A Personal Sketch. 
 By Mis. Oliphant. With Three 
 Rembrandt Plates and other Illus- 
 trations. 3s. 6d. Also 5s., half- 
 morocco. 
 Queen Victoria. Her Life in Por- 
 traits. 6d. net. Cloth, is. net. 
 Rabbit-Keeper, The Practical. By 
 '"Cuniculus," assisted by Eminent 
 Fanciers. With Illustrations. 3s. 6d. 
 Railway Guides, Official. With Illus- 
 trations, Maps, &c. Price is. each ; 
 or in Cloth, is. 6d. each. 
 London and No <th western Railway. 
 Great Western Railway. 
 Midland Railway. 
 Great Northern railwa. . 
 Great Eastern railway. 
 London and south Western railway. 
 London. Brighton and south Coast 
 
 Railway. 
 Soi 1 h Eastern and Chatham Railway. 
 
 Red Terror, The. A Story of the 
 Paris Commune. By Edward 
 King. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Refiner's Fire, The. By Mrs. Hock- 
 
 LIFFE. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Rivers of Great Britain : Descriptive, 
 Historical, Pictorial. 
 rivers of the south and west Coasts. 
 
 The Royal River : The Thames, from 
 
 Source to Sea. [6S. 
 Rivers ok the East Coast. Popular 
 
 Edition, 16s. 
 
 Robinson Crusoe, Cassell's Fine-Art 
 
 Edition. Cheap Edition. 3s. 6d. 
 Rogue's March, The. By 
 
 HOKNUNG. 
 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 Roxane. By Louis C res wick.e. 6s. 
 
 Royal Academy Pictures. Annual 
 Volume. Containing 5 Rembrandt 
 Photogravure Plates. 7s. 6d.
 
 8 Selections from Cussell & Company's Publications. 
 
 Ruskin, John : A Sketch of His Life, 
 His Work, and His Opinions, with 
 Personal Reminis.ences. By M. 
 H. Spielmann. 5s. 
 
 Russo-Turkish War, Cassell's His- 
 tory of. With about 500 Illus- 
 trations. New Edition. Two Vols., 
 9s. each. 
 
 Saturday Journal, Cassell's. Yearly 
 Volume, cloth, 7s. 6d. 
 
 Scales of Heaven, The. Narrative, 
 Legendary and Meditative. With 
 a few Sonnets. By the Rev. Fred- 
 erick Langbridge. 5s. 
 
 Science Series, The Century. Con- 
 sisting of Biographies of Eminent 
 Scientific Men of the present Cen- 
 tury. Edited by Sir Henry Roscoe, 
 D.C.L., F.R.S. Crown 8vo. New 
 Edition. 2s. 6d. each. 
 
 JOHN DALTON ANr> THE RISE OF MODERN 
 
 CHFMISTRY. By Sir Henry E. Roscoe. 
 
 F.R.S. 
 Major Rennell. F.R.S , and the Rise 
 
 OF E vglish GEOGRAPHY. By Sir Clements 
 
 R. Markham, C.B., F.R.S, 
 Justus Von Liebig: His Life and 
 
 Work. Bv W. A. Shenstone. F.I.C. 
 The Herschels and Modf-rn astro- 
 
 NOMY. By Miss Agnes M. Clerk-. 
 Charles Lyell and Modern Geology. 
 
 By Professor T. G. Bonney. F.R.S. 
 J. Clerk maxwell and Modern physics. 
 
 By R. T. Glazebrook, F.R.S. 
 Humphry Davy, poet and philosopher. 
 
 By T. E. Thorpe, F.R S. 
 Charles Darwin and the Theory of 
 
 Natural SELECTION. By Edward P. 
 
 Poulton, M.A.. F.R.S. 
 PASTRUR. By Percy Frankland, Ph.D. (H'iirz- 
 
 burg), B.Sc. tLond.J, and Mrs. Percy Frank- 
 land 
 Michael Faraday : His Life and Work. 
 
 By Professor Silvanus P. Thompson. F.R.S. 
 
 Science for AIL Edited by Dr. 
 Robkrt Brown. Cheap Edition. 
 In Five Vols. 3s. 6d. each. 
 Sea, The Story of the. Edited by Q. 
 Illustrated. In Two Vols. 9s. each. 
 Cheap Edition. 5s. each. 
 Sea Wolves, The. By Max Pem- 
 BERTON. 3s. 6d. People's Edi- 
 tion. 6d. 
 Sentimental Tommy. By J. M. 
 
 Bakrie. Illustiated. 6s. 
 Shaftesbury, The Seventh Earl of, 
 K.G., The Life and Work of. By 
 Edwin Hoddek. Cheap Edition. 
 3s. 6d. 
 Shakespeare, The Plays of. Edited 
 by Professor Henry Morley. 
 Complete in Thirteen Vols., cloth, 
 21s. ; also 39 Vols., cloth, in box, 
 21s. 
 
 Shakespeare, National Library Ed- 
 ition. 37 Vols. Leather. 1s.6d.net 
 each. 
 
 Shakespeare, The England of. New 
 Edition. By E. Goadby. With 
 Full-page Illustrations. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Shakspere, The Leopold. With 400 
 Illustrations. Cheap Edition. 3s.6d. 
 Cloth gilt, gilt edges, 5s. ; roxburgh, 
 7s. 6d. 
 
 Shakspere, The Royal. With 50 
 Full-page Illustrations. Compleie 
 in Three Vols. 3s. 6d. each. 
 
 Shaw, Altred, Cricketer: His Career 
 and Reminiscences. Recorded by 
 A. W. Pullen. With a Statist- 
 ical Chapter by Alfred J. Gaston. 
 Illustrated. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Shellback, The: At Sea in the 
 'Sixties. By Alec J. Boyd. 6s. 
 
 Ship of Stars, The." By A. T. 
 Quiller-Couch (Q). 6s. 
 
 Shop," "The: The Story of the 
 Royal Military Academy. By 
 Captain Guggisberg, R.E. With 
 16 Full - page Coloured Plates. 
 12s. 6d. net. 
 
 Sights and Scenes in Oxford City 
 and University. With 100 Illus- 
 trations after Original Photographs. 
 21s. 
 
 Social England. A Record of the 
 Progress of the People. By various 
 Writers. Edited by the late H. D. 
 Traill, D.C. L. New Illustrated 
 Edition, to be completed in Six 
 Vols. Vol. I., 12s. net. 
 
 Soldier of the King, A. By Dora 
 M. Jones. 6s. 
 
 Some "Persons Unknown. ByE. W. 
 Hornung. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Songs of Near and Far Away. By 
 E. Richardson. With numerous 
 Coloured and other Illustrations. 6s. 
 
 Spectre Gold. By Headon Hill. 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 Splendid Spur, The. By A. T. 
 Quiller-Couch (Q). 3s. 6d. 
 
 Sports and Pastimes, Cassell's 
 Complete Book of. Cheap Edition. 
 With more than 900 Illustrations. 
 Medium 8vo, 992 pages, cloth, 3s. 6d. 
 Standard Library, Cassell's. Pop- 
 ular Works by Great Authors of the 
 Past. 12 Vols. is. net each. 
 Star-Land. By Sir Robert Ball. 
 LL.D. Illustrated. New and En- 
 larged Edition. 7s. 6d.
 
 Selections from Casscll & Company's Publications. 
 
 Story of Francis Cludde, The. By 
 Stanley Weyman. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Sun, The Story of the. By Sir 
 Robert Ball, LL.D. With Fight 
 Coloured Plates and other Illus- 
 trations. Cheap Edition. 10s. 6d. 
 
 Technical Instruction. A Series of 
 Practical Volumes. Edited by P. 
 N. Hasluck. Illustrated. 2s. each. 
 Vol. 1. Practical Staircase Join- 
 er v. 
 Vol. II. Practical Metal Plate 
 
 W .IRK. 
 
 Vol. III. practical Gas Fitting. 
 Vol. IV. Practical draughtsmen's 
 Work. 
 
 Tidal Thames, The. By Grant 
 Allen, With India Proof Im- 
 pressions of 20 magnificent Full- 
 page Photogravure Plates, and with 
 many other Illustrations in the Text 
 after Original Drawings by W. L. 
 Wyllie, A.R.A. New Edition. 
 Cloth, 42s. net. 
 
 Tommy and GrizeL By J. M. Barkie. 
 6s. 
 
 Treasure Island. By R. L. Stevenson 
 Clieap Illustrated Edition. 3s. 6d. 
 
 "Unicode": The Universal Tele- 
 graphic Phrase Book. Desk or 
 Pocket Edition. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Universal History, CasselTs Illus- 
 trated. Four Volumes. 9s. each. 
 Cheap Edition. 5s. each. 
 
 Vanished Rival, A. By J. Bloun- 
 
 DELLE-BURTON. 6s. 
 
 Vizier of the Two-Horned Alex- 
 ander, The. By Frank Stockton. 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 Vicat Cole, R.A., The Life and 
 Paintings of. Illustrated. In Three 
 Volumes. ^3 3s. 
 
 Wallace Collection in Hertford 
 House, The. By M. H. Spiel- 
 
 MANN. IS. 
 
 Illustrated Magazines 
 
 THE QUIVER. Monthly, 6d. 
 CASSELL'S MAGAZINE. Monthly, 6d. 
 THE NEW PENNY MAGAZINE. 
 
 Weekly, id ; Monthly, 6d. 
 LITTLE FOLKS. Monthly, 6d. 
 THE MAGAZINE OF ART. Monthly, 
 
 IS. .|d 
 
 TINY TOTS. For the Very Little 
 Ones. Monthly, id. 
 
 CASSELL & COMPANY 
 
 War Office, The, the Army, and the 
 Empire. By H. O. Arnold- 
 FORSTER, M.A. is. 
 
 Wars of the 'Nineties, The. A 
 History of the Warfare of the last 
 Ten Years of the 19th Century. 
 Profusely Illustrated. In One Vol. 
 7s. 6d. 
 
 Westminster Abbey, Annals of. By 
 
 E. T. Bradley (Mrs. A. Murray 
 Smith). Illustrated. Cheap Edition. 
 21s. 
 
 What Cheer ! By W. Clark Rus- 
 sell. 3s. 6d. 
 
 White Shield, The. By Bertram 
 Mitford. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Whist.EncyclopEedia of the Game of. 
 By Sir William Cusack-Smith, 
 Bart. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Wild Flowers, Familiar. By Prof. 
 
 F. Edward Hulme,F.L.S.,F.S A. 
 With 240 beautiful Coloured Plates. 
 Cheap Edition. In Six Volumes. 
 3s. 6d. each. 
 
 Wild Life at Home : How to Study 
 and Photograph It. By Richard 
 Keartox, F.Z.S. Illustrated from 
 Photographs by C. Kearton. 6s. 
 
 Wit and Humour, Cassell's New 
 World Of. Two Vols. 6s. each. 
 
 Work. The Illustrated Weekly 
 Journal for Mechanics. Half- 
 Yearly Vols. 4s. 6d. each. 
 
 " Work " Handbooks. Practical 
 
 Manuals prepared under the direc- 
 tion of Paul N. Hasluck, Editor 
 of Work. Illustrated, is. each. 
 
 World of Wonders. Illustrated. 
 Cheap Edition. Two Vols. 4s. 6d. 
 each. 
 
 Wrecker, The. By R. L. Stevenson 
 and Lloyd Osbourne. 6s. Popu- 
 lar Edition. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Youug Blood. By E. W. HORNUNG. 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 and Practical Journals. 
 
 CASSELL'S SATURDAY JOURNAL. 
 
 Weekly, id.; Monthly, 6d. 
 CHUMS. The Paper for Bays. 
 
 Weekly, id.; Monthly, 6d. 
 WORK Weekly, id.; Monthly, 6d. 
 
 BUILDING WORLD. Weekly, id.; 
 
 Monthly, 6d. 
 THE GARDENER. Weekly, id.; 
 
 Monthly, 6d. 
 Limited, Liidgatc Hill, Lotidon.
 
 io Selections from Casscll & Company's Publications. 
 
 Bibles and Religious Works. 
 
 Bible Biographies. Illus. is.6d. each. 
 The story of Moses and Joshua. By 
 
 the Rev. J. Telford. 
 THE STORY OF the Judges. By the Rev. 
 
 I. Wychffe Gedge. _ , 
 
 The Story of Samuel and Saul. By the 
 
 Rev. 1). C. Tovey. 
 THF STORY OF DAVID. By the Rev. J. w i d. 
 THE STORY OF Joseph. Its Lessons for 
 
 To-day. By the Rev. George Sainton. 
 
 THE STORY OF JESUS. In Verse. By J. R. 
 Macduff, D.D. 
 
 Bible Commentary. Edited by 
 Bishop Elli cot t. Handy Volume 
 Edition, suitable for school and 
 general use. Vols, from 2s. 6d. to 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 Bible Dictionary, Cassell's Concise. 
 By the Rev. Robert Hunter, 
 LL.D. Illustrated. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Bible Student in the British Museum, 
 The. By the Rev. J. G. KiTCHiN, 
 M.A. New and Revised Edition. 
 is. 4d. 
 
 Bunyan, Cassell's Illustrated, With 
 200 Original Illustrations. Cheap 
 Edition. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Child's Bible, The. With 100 Illus- 
 trations and Coloured Plates. Nezu 
 Edition. 10s. 6d. 
 
 Child's Life of Christ, The. With 
 200 Illustrations. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Church of England, The. A H istory 
 for the People. By the Very Rev. 
 H. D. M. Spence, D.D., Dean of 
 Gloucester. Illustrated. Complete 
 in Four Vols. 6s. each. 
 
 Church Reform in Spain and Portu- 
 gal. By the Rev. H. E. NoYES, 
 D.D. illustrated. 2S. 6d. 
 
 A Bible Commentary for English 
 Readers. Edited by Bishop Elli- 
 COTT. With Contributions by 
 eminent Scholars and Divines: — 
 
 NEW TESTAMENT. Popular Edition, Un- 
 abridged. Three Vols. 6s. each. 
 
 OLD TESTAMENT. Pop'tlar Edition. Un- 
 abridged. Five Vols. 6s. each. 
 
 Dore Bible. With 200 Full-page 
 Illustrations by Gustave Dore. 
 Popular Edition. 15s. 
 
 Early Christianity and Paganism. 
 By the Rev. H. D. Spence. Illus- 
 trated. 21s. 
 
 Early Days of Christianity, The. 
 By the Very Rev. Dean FaRRAR, 
 D.D., F.R.S. Library Edition. 
 Two Vols., 24s. ; morocco, £2 2s. 
 Popular Edition. Complete in 
 One, Volume. Cloth, gilt edges, 
 7s. 6d. Cheap Edition. Cloth gilt, 
 3s. 6d. ; paste grain, 5s. net. 
 
 Family Prayer-Book, The. Edited 
 by the Rev. Canon Garbutt, 
 M.A., and Rev. S. Martin. With 
 Full-page Illustrations. 7s. 6dL 
 
 Gleanings after Harvest. Studies 
 and Sketches by the Rev. John R. 
 Vernon, M.A. Illustrated. Cheap 
 Edition. 3s. 6d. 
 
 " Graven in the Rock." By the Rev. 
 Dr. Samuel Kinns, F.R.A.S. 
 Illustrated. Library Edition. Two 
 Vols. 15s. 
 
 '• Heart Chords." A Series of Work-, 
 by Eminent Divines, is. each. 
 
 MY C.jMFORT IN SORROW. B/ Hugh Mac- 
 
 millan, D.D. 
 MY B BLK. By the Right Rev. W. Boyd 
 
 Carpenter, Bishop of Ripon. 
 MY FATHEK. '-y the Right Rev. Ashton 
 
 Oxen ten, late Bishop of Montreal. 
 MY WORK FOR GOD. By the Right Rev. 
 
 Bishop Cotterill. 
 MY EMOTIONAL LIFE. By the Rev. Preb. 
 
 Chadwick, D.D. 
 M v BODY. By the Rev. Prof. VV. G. Blaikie, 
 
 D.D. 
 MY Gkowth in DIVINE Life. By the Rev. 
 
 Preb. Reynolds, M A. 
 MY SOUL. By the Rev. P. B. Power, M.A. 
 MY HEREAFTER By the Very Rev. Dean 
 
 Bickerstetli.
 
 Selections from Cassell &* Company's Publications. 1 1 
 
 " Heart Chords " [con Hinted) : — 
 my aid to the Divine Life. By the Very 
 
 Rev. Dean Boyle. 
 MY SOWKCES OF STRENGTH. By the Kev. 
 H. H. Jenkins. M.A. 
 
 Helps to Belief. Helpful Manuals 
 on the Religious Difficulties of the 
 Day. Edited by Canon Teign- 
 MOUTH-Shore. Cloth, is. each. 
 
 MIRAC1.ES. By the Rev. Brownlowr Mait- 
 
 land, M.A. 
 THE ATONEMENT. By William Connor 
 
 Magce, U.D., late Archbishop of York. 
 
 Holy Land and the Bible. A Book 
 ot Scripture Illustrations gathered 
 in Palestine. By the Rev. CUN- 
 NINGHAM Geikie, D. D. Cheap 
 Edition. 7s. 6d. Superior Edition. 
 With 24 Plates. Cloth gilt, gilt 
 edges, 10s. 6d. 
 
 Life Of Christ, The. By the Very 
 Rev. Dean FARRAR. Cheap 
 Edition. With 16 Full-page Plates. 
 3s. 6d. Library Edition. Two 
 Vols. Cloth, 24s. ; morocco 42s. 
 Large Type Illustrated Edition. 
 Cloth, full gilt, gilt edges, 10s. 6d. 
 Popular Edition. With 16 Full- 
 page Plates. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Life of Lives, The, Further Studies 
 in the Life of Christ. By Dean 
 Farrar. 15s. 
 
 Life and Work of the Redeemer. 
 
 Illustrated. 6s. 
 
 Matin and Vesper Bells. Earlier 
 and Later Collected Poems. 
 (Chiefly Sacred). By J. R. Mac- 
 duff, D.D. Two Vols. 7s. 6d. 
 the set. 
 
 Methodism, Side Lights on the 
 Conflicts Of. During the Second 
 Quarter of the Nineteenth Century, 
 1827-1852. From the Notes of the 
 late Rev. Joseph Fowler of the 
 Debates of the Wesleyan Con- 
 ference. Cloth, 8s. Popular Edi- 
 tion. Unabridged. Cloth, 3s. 6d. 
 
 Moses and Geology ; or, The Har- 
 mony of the Bible with Science. 
 By the Rev. Samuel Kinns, 
 Ph.D., F.R.A.S. Illustrated. 10s. 6d. 
 net. 
 
 Plain Introductions to the Books 
 of the Old Testament. Edited by 
 Bishop Ellicott. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Plain Introductions to the Books 
 of the New Testament. Edited 
 by Bishop Ellicott. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Protestantism, The History of. 
 By the Rev. J. A. Wylie, LL.D. 
 Containing upwards of 600 Orig- 
 inal Illustrations. Cheap Edition. 
 Three Vols. 3s. 6d. each. 
 
 Quiver Yearly Volume, The. With 
 about 900 Original Illustrations. 
 7s. 6d. 
 
 St. Paul, The Life and Work of. 
 By the Very Rev. Dean Farkar. 
 Cheap Edition. With 16 Fuli-page 
 Plates, 3s. 6d. ; Cheap Illustrated 
 Edition, 7s. 6d. ; Library Edition, 
 Two Vols., 24s. or 42s. Illus- 
 trated Edition. £\ is. or £2 2s. 
 Popular Euition. 7s. 6d. 
 
 " Six Hundred Years " ; or, His- 
 torical Sketches of Eminent Men 
 and Women who have more or less 
 come into contact with the Abbey 
 and Church of Holy Trinity, 
 Minories, from 1293 to 1893. With 
 65 Illustrations. By the Vicar, the 
 Rev. Dr. Samuel Kinns. 15s. 
 
 "Sunday," Its Origin, History, and 
 Present Obligation. By the Ven. 
 Archdeacon HESSEY, D.C.L. Fifth 
 
 Edition. 7s. 6d.
 
 12 Selections from Cos sell 6° Company 's Publications. 
 
 Educational Works and Students' Manuals* 
 
 Alphabet, Cassell's Pictorial. 
 
 and 2s. 6d. 
 
 2S. 
 
 Atlas, Cassell's Popular. Contain- 
 ing 24 Coloured Maps. is. 6d. 
 
 Blackboard Drawing. By W. E. 
 
 Spakkes. Illustrated. 5s. 
 
 Book - keeping. By Theodore 
 Jones. For Schools, 2s.; cloth, 3s. 
 For the Million, 2s.; cloth, 3s. 
 Books for Jones's System, 2s. 
 
 Chemistry, The Public School. By 
 J. H. Anderson, M.A. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Cookery for Schools. By Lizzie 
 Heritage. 6d. 
 
 Dulce Domum. Rhymes and Songs 
 for Children. Edited by John 
 Farmer, Editor of " Gaudeamus," 
 &c. Old Notation and Words, 5s. 
 
 N.B. — The words of the Songs in ■' Dulce 
 Domum " [with the Airs in both Tonic Sol-fa 
 and Old Notation) can be had in Two Parts, 
 6d. each. 
 
 England, a History of. By H. O. 
 
 Arnold - Forster, M.A. Illus- 
 trated. 5s. 
 
 Euclid, Cassell's. Edited by Prof. 
 Wallace, M.A. is. 
 
 Experimental Geometry. Bv Paul 
 Bert. Illustrated, is. 6d. 
 
 " Eyes and No Eyes " Series (Cas- 
 sell's). By Arabella Buckley. 
 With Coloured Plates and other 
 Illustrations. Six Books. 4d. and 
 6d. each. 
 
 Founders of the Empire. A Rio- 
 graphical Reading Book for School 
 and Home. By Philip Gibbs. 
 Illustrated, is. 8d. Cloth, 2s. 6d. 
 
 French-English and English-French 
 
 Dictionary. 3s 
 
 6d. or 5s. 
 
 Gaudeamus. Songs for Colleges and 
 Schools. Edited by John Farmer. 
 5s. Words only, paper covers, 6d.; 
 cloth, gd. ' 
 
 Geography : A Practical Method of 
 Teaching. Book I., Bngiand and 
 Wales, in Two Parts, 6d. each. 
 Book II., Europe. BvJ. H. Over- 
 ton, F.G.S. 6d. Tracing Book, 
 containing 22 leaves, 2d. 
 
 German Dictionary, Cassell's. (Ger- 
 man-English, English - German.) 
 Cheap Edition. Cloth, 3s. 6d.; half- 
 morocco, 5s. 
 
 Hand and Eye Training. By G. 
 Ricks, B.Sc. Two Vols., with 16 
 Coloured Plates in each. 6s. each. 
 
 Hand and Eye Training. Ry George 
 Ricks, B.Sc, and Jos. Vaughan. 
 Illustrated. Vol. I., Designing with 
 Coloured Papers. Vol. II., Card- 
 board Work. 2s. each. Vol. III., 
 Colour Work and Design, 3s. 
 
 Historical Cartoons, Cassell's Col- 
 oured. Size 45 in. x 35 in. 2s. each. 
 Mounted on Canvas and varnished, 
 with Rollers, 5s. each. 
 
 In Danger's Hour ; or, Stout Hearts 
 and Stirring Deeds. A Book of 
 Adventures for School and Home. 
 With Coloured Plates and other 
 Illustrations. Cloth, is.8d. ; bevelled 
 boards, 2s. 6d. 
 
 Latin - English and English - Latin 
 Dictionary. 3s. 6d. and 5s. 
 
 Latin Primer, The First. By Prof. 
 Postgate. is. 
 
 Latin Primer, The New. By Prof. 
 J. P. Postgate. Crown 8vo. ,2s. 6d. 
 
 Latin Prose for Lower Forms. By 
 M. A. Bayfield, M.A. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Laws of Every-day Life. By H. O. 
 Arnold-Forster, M.A. is. 6d. 
 
 Marlborough Books : — Arithmetic 
 Examples, 3s. French Exercises, 
 3s. 6d. French Grammar, 2s. 6d. 
 German Grammar, 3s. 6d. 
 
 Mechanics and Machine Design, 
 Numerical Examples in. Practical. 
 By R. G. Blaine, M.E. Rroised 
 and Enlarged. Illustrated. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Mechanics, Applied. By J. Perry, 
 M.E.D.Sc&c. Illustrated. 7S.6d.
 
 Selections from Cassell & Company 's Publications. 13 
 
 Mechanics, Cassell's Cyclopaedia of. 
 Edited by P. N HASLUCK. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Metric Charts, Cassell's Approved. 
 Two Coloured Sheets, 42 in. by 
 22'^ in, illustrating by Designs 
 and Explanations the Metric Sys- 
 tem, is. each. Mounted with 
 Rollers, 3s. each. The two in one 
 with Rollers, 5s. each. 
 
 Models and Common Objects, How- 
 to Draw from. By W. E. Sparkes. 
 Illustrated. 3s. 
 
 Models, Common Objects, and Casts 
 of Ornament, How to Shade from. 
 By W. E. Sparkes. With 25 
 Plates by the Author. 3s. 
 
 Object Lessons from Nature. By 
 Prof. L. C. Ml ALL, F.L.S. Fully 
 Illustrated. New and Enlarged 
 Edition. Two Vols., is. 6d. each. 
 
 Physiology for Schools. By A. T. 
 Schofield, M.D , &c. Illustrated. 
 Cloth, is. 9d. ; Three Parts, paper, 
 5d. each ; or cloth limp, 6d. each. 
 
 Poetry for Children, Cassell's. 6 
 Books, id. each ; in One Vol., 6d. 
 
 Popular Educator, Cassell's. With 
 Coloured Plates and Maps, and 
 other Illustrations. 8 Vols., 5s. 
 each. 
 
 Readers, Cassell's Classical, for 
 School and Home. illustrated. 
 Vol. I. (for young children), is. Sd. ; 
 Vol. II. (boys and girls), 2S. 6d. 
 
 Readers, Cassell's " Belle Sauvage." 
 
 An entirely New Series. Fully 
 Illustrated. Strongly bound in cloth. 
 (List on application.) 
 
 Readers, Cassell's "Higher Class." 
 
 (List on application.) 
 
 Readers, Cassell's Readable. Illus- 
 trated. {List on application.) 
 
 Readers for Infant Schools, Col- 
 oured. Three Books. 4d. each. 
 
 Reader, The Citizen. By H. O. 
 Arnold - Fokstek, M.A. Illus- 
 trated, is. 6d. Also a Scottish 
 Edition, cloth, is. 6d. 
 
 Reader, The Temperance. By J. 
 Dennis Hikd. is. or is. 6d. 
 
 Readers, Geographical, Cassell's 
 New. Illustrated. (List on appli- 
 cation.) 
 
 Readers, The "Modern School" 
 Geographical. (List on application. ) 
 
 Readers, The "Modern School." 
 Illustrated. (List on app ication.) 
 
 Reckoning, Howard's Art of. By C. 
 Frusher Howard. Paper covers, 
 is. ; cloth, 2s. New Edition. 5s. 
 
 Round the Empire. By G. R. 
 Parkin. Fully Illustrated, is. 6d. 
 
 R. H. S. Curves. By Prof. R. H. 
 Smith. A Set of 23 Scaled Tem- 
 plates, with Pamphlet, 10s. 6d. 
 
 Shakspere's Plays for School Use, 
 9 Books. Illustrated. 6d. each. 
 
 Spelling, A Complete Manual of. 
 By J. D. Morell, LL. D. Cloth, 
 is. Cheap Edition, 6d. 
 
 Spending and Saving : A Primer ot 
 Thrift. By Alfred Pinhorn, 
 is. 
 
 Technical Manuals, Cassell's. Illus- 
 trated throughout. Sixteen Books, 
 from 2s. to 4s. 6d. (List on appli- 
 cation.) 
 
 Technical Educator, Cassell's. With 
 Coloured Plates and Engravings. 
 Complete in Six Volumes. 3s. 6d. 
 each. 
 
 Technology, Manuals of. Edited by- 
 Prof. Aykton, F.R.S., and Rich- 
 ard Wormf.ll, D. Sc. , M.A. 
 Illustrated throughout. Seven Books 
 from 3s. 6d. to 5s. each. (List on 
 application. ) 
 
 Things New and Old; or, Stories 
 from English History. By H. O. 
 Arnold - Forster, M.A. Illus- 
 trated. 7 Books from gd. to is. 8d. 
 This World of Ours. By H. O. 
 Arnold -Fokster, M.A. Illus- 
 trated. Cheap Edition. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Troubadour, The. Selections from 
 English Verse. Edited and Anno- 
 tated by Philip Gibbs. is. 6d. 
 
 Young Citizen, The ; or, Lessons in 
 our Laws. By H. F. Lester, B.A. 
 Fully Illustrated, 2s. 6d. Also 
 issued in Two Parts under the 
 title of "Lessons in Our Laws" 
 is. 6d. each. 
 
 CASSELL & COMPANY, Limited, Lttdgatc Hill, London.
 
 14 Selections from Casscll 6° Company's Publications. 
 
 Bocks for Young People. 
 
 A Sunday Story-Book. By Maggie 
 Browne. Illustrated. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Animal Land for Little People. By 
 S. H. HAMER. Illustrated, is. 6d. 
 
 Beneath the Banner. Being Narra- 
 tives of Noble Lives and B ave 
 Deeds. By F. J. Cross. Illus- 
 trated. Limp cloth, is. Cloth 
 
 gilt, 2S. 
 
 Beyond the Blue Mountains. By 
 L. T. Nieade, 5s. 
 
 Bo-Peep. A Book for the Little Ones. 
 With Original Stories and Verses. 
 Illustrated with Full-page Coloured 
 Plates, and numerous Pictures in 
 Colour. Yearly Volume. Picture 
 Board-, 2s. 6d. ; cloth, 3s. 6d. 
 
 Cassell's Picture Story Books. Each 
 contaning about Sixty Pages of 
 Pictures and Stories, &c. 6d. each. 
 
 AUNTIE'S STORIES. 
 BIRDIE'S STORY BOOK. 
 DEWDROP STORIES. 
 LITTLE CHIMES. 
 
 Good Morning ! Good Night ! By 
 
 F. J. Cross. Illustrated. Limp 
 
 cloth, is. ; or cloth boards, gilt 
 lettered, 2s. 
 
 Heroes of Every-day Life. By Laura 
 Lane. Illustrated. 2s. 6d. 
 
 " Litf e Folks ' ' Half- Yearly Volume. 
 Containing 480 pages, with Six 
 Full-page Coloured Plates, and 
 numerous other Pictures printed in 
 Colour. Picture Boards, 3s. 6d. 
 Cloth gilt, gilt edges, 5s. each. 
 
 Little Mother Bunch By Mrs. 
 MOLESWORTH. Illustrated 2S. 6d. 
 
 Magic at Home. By Prof. Hoff- 
 man. Illustrated, Cloth gilt, 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 Master Charlie. By C. S. Harri- 
 son and s. H. Hamer. Illus- 
 trated. Co.ouicd boards, is. od. 
 
 Micky Magee's Menagerie ; or, 
 Strange Animals and their 
 Doings. By S. H. Hamek \\ iih 
 Eight Coloured Plates and other 
 Illustrations by Harry B. Neil- 
 SON. is. 6d. 
 
 Notable Shipwrecks. 
 
 Enlarge i Edition. IS. 
 Edition. 2s. 
 
 Revised and 
 Illustrated 
 
 Peter Piper's Peepshow. By S H. 
 Hamek. With lllu>trations by H. 
 B. Neilson and Lewis Baumer. 
 is. 6d. 
 
 Pleasant Work for Busy Fingers. 
 By .viaggie Browne, lllustra.ed. 
 2S. 6d. 
 
 Strange Adventures in Dicky Bird 
 Land. Stories told by Motnei 
 Buds to amuse the>r (. h cks, 
 and overheard by R. Kearton, 
 F.Z.S. With Illustrations f r , m 
 Photographs by C. Kearton. 
 Cloth, 3s. 6d. Cloth gilt, gilt 
 edges, 5s. 
 
 The Jungle School ; or, Dr. Jibber- 
 Jabber Burchall's Academy. By 
 S. H. Hamer. With lilustatious 
 by H. B. Neilson. is. 6d. 
 
 The " Victoria "' Painting Book for 
 Little Folks. Illustrated, is. 
 
 " Tiny Tots " Annual Volume. 
 Boards, is. 4d. Cloth, is. 6d. 
 
 Topsy Turvy Tales. By S. H. 
 Hamer. With Illustrations by 
 Harky B. Neilson. is. 6d. • 
 
 Two Old Ladies, Two Foolish Fairies, 
 and a Tom Cat. The Surpn-ing 
 Adventures of Tuppy and Tue. A 
 New Fairy Story. By Maggie 
 Browne. With Four Colou ed 
 Plates and other lllusiralions. 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 Whys and Oth? r Whys ; or, Cuiious 
 Creatures and Their Tales. By 
 s. II. Hamek and Harry B. 
 Neilson. Pa^er boards, 2s. 6d. 
 Cloth, 3s. 6d.
 
 Selections from Cassell &• Company's Publications. 15 
 
 CASSELL'S SHILLING STORY BOOKS. 
 Interesting stories. 
 A Pair of Primroses. 
 Ella's Golden Ykak. 
 Little Queen Mar 
 
 CASSELL'S E r GHTEENPENNY STORY 
 All in a Castle Fair. 
 By Land and sea. 
 Clare Linton's Friend. 
 Dolly's Golden Slippers. 
 Her Wilful Way. 
 
 All Illustrated, and containing 
 
 The Hfirfss of Wyvern Court. 
 Their Road to F »rtune. 
 Won by Gentleness. 
 
 BOOKS. Illustrated. 
 In the Days of King George. 
 On Board the Esmeralda. 
 The kkavestof ihe Brave. 
 To Schuol and Away. 
 
 BOOKS BY EDWARD S. ELLIS. 
 Astray in the Forest. 
 Captured by Indians. 
 Red Feather. A Tale of 
 American Frontier. 
 
 Illustrated. Cloth, is. 6d. each. 
 
 The B .y Hunters of Ken- 
 tucky. 
 
 the The Daughter of the Chieftak^. 
 Wolf Ear the Indian. 
 
 CASSELL'S TWO-SHILLING STORY 
 A Self-willed Family. 
 Daisy's Dilemmas. 
 Fluffy and Jack. 
 In Mischief Again. 
 Little Folks' Sunday Book. 
 Mr. Burke's Nieces. 
 Peggy, and other Tales. 
 
 BOOKS. Illustrated. 
 Poor Nelly. 
 
 The hildren of the Court. 
 The Four Cats of the Tippertons. 
 The Mystery of Master Max ; 
 and the shrimps of Shrimpton. 
 Uncle Silvio's Secret. 
 Wrong from the First. 
 
 BOOKS BY EDWARD S. ELLIS. Ill 
 
 A Strange Craft and its Won- 
 derful Voyages. 
 
 Blazing Arrow. 
 
 Camp-Fire and Wigwam. 
 
 Chieftain and Scout. 
 
 Cowmen and Rustlers. 
 
 Down the Mississippi. 
 
 Footprints in the Forest. 
 
 In Red Indian Trails. 
 
 In the Days of the Pioneers. 
 
 Iron Heart, War Chief of the 
 Iroquois. 
 
 Klondike Nuggets. 
 
 Lost in thf. Wilds. 
 
 Ned in the Block House. A 
 Story of Pioneer Life in Kentucky. 
 
 Ned in the Woods. A Tale of 
 Early Days in the West. 
 Ned on the River. A Tale of 
 
 Indian River Warfare. 
 
 ustrated. Cloth, 2?. 6d. each. 
 
 Pontiac, Chief of the Ottawas. 
 Red Jacket: The Last of the 
 
 Senecas. 
 Scouts and Comrades : or.Tecum- 
 
 seh, Chief of the Shawanoes. 
 Shod with Silence. 
 The Camp in the Mountains. 
 The Great Cattle Trail. 
 The Hunters of the Ozark. 
 The Last War Trail. 
 The Lost Trail. 
 The Path in the Ravine. 
 The Phantom of the River. 
 The Rubber Hunters (formerly 
 
 Up the Tapajos). 
 The Young Ranchers. 
 Two Bons in Wyoming. 
 Uncrowning a King. 
 
 HALF-CROWN STORY BOOKS. 
 
 Adam Hepburn's Vow. 
 An Old Boy's Yarns. 
 At the South Pole. 
 By Fire and Sword. 
 
 Cost of a Mistake. 
 Fairway Island. 
 Fairy I ales in Other Lands. 
 Freedom's Sword.
 
 1 6 Selections from Casscll 6° Company's Publications. 
 
 HALF-CROWN STORY BOOKS {conti 
 Heroes of the Indian Empire. 
 Lost Among White Africans. 
 Lost on Du Corrig. 
 Master of the Strong Hearts: 
 
 A Story of Custer's Last 
 
 Rally. 
 No. XIII.; or, The Story of 
 
 the Lost Vestal. 
 Perils Afloat and Brigands 
 
 Ashore. 
 Pictures of School Life and 
 
 Boyhood. 
 
 BOOKS FOR THE LITTLE ONES. Fully Illustrated. 
 
 nued) : — 
 
 Rogues of the Fiery Cross. 
 Strong to Suffer. 
 The Queen's Scarlet. 
 The White House at Inch Gow. 
 Through Trial to Triumph. 
 Told Out of School. 
 To Punish the Czar. 
 To the Death. 
 
 Wanted — a King; or, How Merle 
 Set the Nursery Rhymes to 
 Rights. 
 
 Cassell's Robinson Crusoe. 
 With ioo Illustrations. Cloth, 
 3s. 6d. ; gilt edges, 5s. 
 
 Cassell's Swiss Family Robin- 
 son. Illustrated. Cloth, 3s. 6d. ; 
 gilt edges, 5s. 
 
 ALBUMS FOR CHILDREN. 3 s. 6d. each. 
 
 My Own Album of Animals. 
 The Album for Home, School, 
 
 The Old Fairy Tales. With 
 Original Illustrations. Cloth, is. 
 
 The Sunday Scrap Book. With 
 Several Hundred Illustrations. Pa- 
 per boards, 35. 6d. 
 
 and Play. Containing Stories 
 by Popular Authors. Illustrated. 
 
 THREE AND SIXPENNY STORY BOOKS FOR GIRLS. Illustrated. 
 
 Bound by a Spell. By the Hon. 
 
 Mrs. Greene. 
 Five Stars in a Little Pool. 
 
 By Edith Carrington. 
 A Sweet Girl GradO 
 
 uate. 
 Bashful Fifteen. 
 Merry Girls of Eng- By 
 
 land. j- L. T. 
 
 Red Rose and Tiger Meade. 
 
 Lily. 
 The Rebellion of Lil 
 
 Carrington. 
 
 } 
 
 By Mrs. 
 Robson. 
 
 A Girl without Am- 
 bition. 
 
 Mrs. Pederson's Niece. 
 
 The King's Command; A Story 
 for Girls. By Maggie Symington. 
 
 A World of Girls: The") 
 Story of a School. By 
 
 Polly : A New - Fash- |- L. T. 
 ioned Girl. | Meade. 
 
 The Palace Beautiful.J 
 
 Sisters Three. "J By Jessie Man- 
 
 Tom and Some >sergh(Mrs.G.de 
 Girls. J Home Vaizey). 
 
 Other 
 THREE AND SIXPENNY STORY BOOKS FOR BOYS. Illustrated. Cloth gilt 
 
 "Follow my Leader." By Tal- 
 bot Baines Reed. 
 
 For Fortune and Glory: A 
 Story of the Soudan War. 
 By Lewis Hough. 
 
 For Glory and Renown. By D. 
 H. Parry. 
 
 The Biography of a Locomotive 
 Engine. By Henry Frith. 
 
 The Capture of the "Es- 
 
 trella " : A 
 Slave Trade. 
 Claud Harding, 
 
 Tale of the 
 
 By Commander 
 
 R.N. 
 
 The Champion of Odin; or, Viking 
 
 Life in the Days of Old. By J. 
 
 F. Hodgetts. 
 The Red Terror : A Story of the 
 
 Paris Commune. ByEdward King. 
 The Three Homes. By the Very 
 
 Rev. Dean Farrar. 
 Under Bayard's Banner. By 
 
 Henry Frith. 
 Under the Great Bear. By 
 
 Kirk Munroe. 
 With Claymore and Bayonet. 
 
 By Colonel Percy Groves, 
 With Redskins on the. War- 
 
 path. By S. WaLkey. 
 CASSELL & COMPANY'S COMPLETE CATALOCUE WILL BE SHT POST FBEE ON APPLJM 
 
 CASSELL & COMPANY, Limited, Ludgaie HillfLoniAm 
 
 b 
 
 Tsr; 
 
 PUCA^'t!
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A A 000 418 743