Mediæval London

CHAPTER IV.

In the year A.D. 314, more than a century before the departure of the Romans, Restitutus, bishop of London, appears in the list of prelates who were present at the Council of Arles; and we may take it for granted that the Christian Church was duly organized at that time. But the advent of the English was the absolute and complete destruction of it for the time being. The English were entirely heathen.

The end of the sixth century saw the memorable mission of St. Augustine and his band of Christian workers. Ethelbert, king of Kent, became his first convert. In the year 604, as we learn from Ralph de Diceto, the historian and Dean of St. Paul’s, “Ethelbert, the King, built the Church of St. Paul, London;” and St. Augustine himself consecrated Mellitus as Bishop of the See. The Manor of Tillingham, one of those with which that King enriched the Church, still remains in the possession of the Dean and Chapter.

What was the form of this first Cathedral, and whether built of wood or stone, we have no evidence to show. Maitland, in his History, says that the first Cathedral was built in the Prætorian camp of the Romans, and destroyed under Diocletian. He gives no authority for this statement, but it has no inherent improbability, for there are several examples in England of churches standing within ancient camps, e.g., the recently discovered church at Silchester.

Mellitus, as we have already seen, was driven away by the relapse of the East Saxon King into Paganism after Ethelbert’s death. But the faith was firmly implanted, and after a while burst forth in strength. Mellitus returned to England in February, 619, not to his See of London, but to succeed Laurence as Archbishop of Canterbury. He died five years afterwards (24th April, 624), a day long observed with honour in the Church of London, as may be seen in its ancient calendar.

Another of London’s early prelates deserves special mention. Fourth in succession, but towering above his predecessors, both in history and legend, stands St. Erkenwald, who was consecrated in 675. He is said to have been the son of Offa, king of East England, and, when a boy, to have heard Mellitus preach in London. Before he became bishop, he had founded two famous monasteries: one for himself, at Chertsey in Surrey; the other for his sister Ethelburga, at Barking in Essex. Erkenwald held the See from 675 to 693, and was afterwards canonised. Large crowds of pilgrims flowed to his shrine in St. Paul’s. The day of his death, April 30th, and the day of his translation, November 14th, were long observed as festival days in St. Paul’s Cathedral.

At an early period the retirement of a hermit’s life became familiar to Englishmen, chiefly by reports from their countrymen who had travelled abroad. One of the most famous of these religious recluses was Peter the Hermit, the Preacher of the Crusades. Another class were known as anchorites, and frequently lived in or near churches; sometimes over the porch, or in other curious recesses. In the parish books of All Hallows, London Wall, are many particulars of Simon the Anker or Anchorite, who lived on the wall in or adjoining the church, and received much from the alms of the faithful. It must be added, in justice to Simon, that he proved a liberal benefactor to the Church of All Hallows.

The greatest man in England in the earlier half of the tenth century was Dunstan, who was first a student and afterwards Abbot of Glastonbury Abbey. His popularity during and after his life is shown by the numerous churches named after him. There are two in the City; and the old church of Stepney, which Dunstan rebuilt in A.D. 952 (just now, alas! laid waste by fire), is still called by his name. Some of the great monastic houses were flourishing during the late Saxon period, but the greater part grew up in Norman times.

The ancient house of St. Martin-le-Grand was founded by Witraed about the year 700, refounded in 1056 by Edward and Ingelric, and confirmed in its privileges as a secular college by William the Conqueror. By the Conqueror’s charter, St. Martin’s obtained its well-known right of sanctuary, which arose through its exemption from ecclesiastical and civil jurisdiction. Of the magnificent Priory of St. Bartholomew, Smithfield, we have previously spoken. Rahere, the first prior, finished the buildings in 1123, the work having occupied twenty years. Henry I., by a charter, conferred great privileges on the priory and hospital, including the right to hold Bartholomew Fair in Smithfield. The Norman Conquest brought the establishment of many new monastic foundations, but the policy adopted in founding them was to rob the parishes of their endowments. Instances of this are everywhere to be found. Rufus gave the endowment of Chesterfield parish church to Lincoln Cathedral. Rahere transferred to the Augustinian Canons settled in his Priory of St. Bartholomew much revenue which belonged to churches elsewhere. The Templars and the Hospitalers had each an important settlement in London. The Templars first established themselves in Holborn, at the end of Chancery Lane, in 1118, and removed to Fleet Street, or the new Temple, in 1184. The Knights of St. John of Jerusalem founded their magnificent abode in West Smithfield, interesting remains of which are preserved in the beautiful crypt lately restored and the well-known St. John’s Gate.

Among the other early foundations in Fitzstephen’s time were the hospital and church of St. Katharine, by the Tower, built by Matilda, queen of Stephen; St. Mary Overy’s Priory, at the Southwark foot of London Bridge, founded in 1106; and the great Priory of the Holy Trinity, without Aldgate, whose prior was an Alderman of London. Among the lesser foundations were the hospitals of St. Giles and St. Mary Spital, the nunnery of Clerkenwell, and that of St. Helen, Bishopsgate. The hospital of St. Thomas of Acon was founded by Agnes, sister of St. Thomas of Canterbury, about twenty years after his martyrdom, the site being that of the house occupied by the Becket family in Cheapside. At the Dissolution the whole was granted to the Mercers, who established on the site their hall and chapel. Besides the injury done to the parishes by the monastic system, and the consequent impoverishment of the parochial clergy, another grave evil attaching to these religious foundations was their exemption from episcopal control. This was especially the case with all the Cistercian houses. The Carthusians, an order of monks founded by St. Bruno in the later part of the eleventh century, had a famous London house, still known as the Charterhouse, established in 1349 by Sir Walter de Manny. These various Orders had standing rivalry among themselves. The Regulars, who retired from the world in complete monastic seclusion, were bitterly jealous of the Seculars, who associated themselves with the Cathedral and parochial clergy and mixed with the people. Much misapprehension prevails on the subject of these religious Orders. There was no “poverty” in Monasticism, whatever the vows. The hospitality for which their friends praised them so much was often a condition of their foundation charters, under which they were obliged to entertain their founders when they travelled that way. A striking instance is seen in the case of Bethlehem Hospital, which was founded solely for the purpose of “entertaining the Bishop of Bethlehem if ever he should visit England”—a transparent ruse for maintaining in luxury a master who did not even wear a habit.

The coming of the Friars brought to the City still more sumptuous religious houses. The Dominicans, or Black Friars, were the first to arrive in 1221, and were followed by the Franciscans, or Grey Friars, in 1224, and these communities soon spread themselves over all the land. The Carmelites, or White Friars, came to England in 1240, and were established in London between Fleet Street and the Thames in the following year. The settlement of the Crouched, Crutched, or Crossed Friars was nearly a century later. Their home was near Hart Street, leading to Tower Hill, where they were settled in 1319 by Ralph Hosier and William Sabernes. The house of the Augustine or Austin Friars was founded by Humphrey Bohun, earl of Hereford and Essex, in 1253; and the nave of the church has fortunately been preserved for use by the Dutch Protestant Church.

It is to the cathedral of a city that we should look for the mainspring of its religious life, and it will be both useful and interesting to glance at the inner life of St. Paul’s, and the leading facts in its history. Although the magnificent structure of the old cathedral perished in the Great Fire, we have fortunately, through the labours of Sir William Dugdale and others, and the extensive collection of early records preserved in the cathedral library, copious material for obtaining a fairly complete picture of Old St. Paul’s. In the middle of the fifteenth century the cathedral body consisted of the following officials: The Bishop, the Dean, four Archdeacons, a Treasurer, Precentor, and Chancellor. To these must be added a body of thirty greater canons, twelve lesser canons, a considerable number of chaplains, and thirty vicars.

St. Paul’s is one of the nine cathedrals of the old foundation; eight belong to the new foundation, five were founded by Henry VIII., and the remaining Sees in modern times. The churches of the old foundation were churches of secular canons; those of the new foundation were monastic houses—generally Benedictine—of which, therefore, the government had to be reconstituted. The monastic houses were ruled by the Abbot, whilst in the secular churches of the old foundation the Dean presided over the Chapter.

At St. Paul’s, then, the Bishop was the highest in authority, and was received with great honour and ceremony on his visits to the cathedral. In his gift were all the prebendal stalls, and his episcopal palace stood close to the cathedral at its north-west corner.

The Dean was next in office to the Bishop; he was elected from and by the body of the Chapter. In the Dean’s absence, the Sub-Dean—always one of the minor canons—fulfilled his duties in choir, and exercised his authority over minor officials, but he did not occupy the Dean’s stall.

Next in dignity to the Dean were the four Archdeacons of London, Essex, Middlesex, and Colchester, the Archdeacon of St. Albans being added in the reign of Henry VIII. The Treasurer had charge of all the goods of the church, such as vestments, service-books, altar furniture, &c. He was assisted by the Sacrist as his deputy, and under the Sacrist, by three vergers.

The Precentor, with the assistance of his deputy, the Succentor, directed the music of the cathedral. The Chancellor was the person from whom the schoolmasters of the Metropolis received their licence to teach; among many other duties, he composed the letters and deeds of the Chapter, and had committed to him the punishment of clerks of the lower grade.

The Canons or Prebendaries were thirty in number, and, with the Bishop at their head, constituted the Chapter. They elected both Bishop and Dean, and each had an endowment attached to his stall. The names of the manors forming these endowments still appear above the Prebendaries’ stalls. One of the stalls still bears the name of Consumpta per Mare; the estate was in Walton-on-the-Naze, and the inundation which the name commemorates seems to have occurred about the time of the Conquest.

It was the duty of each Canon, whether in church or absent, to recite daily a portion of the psalter. The first words of the section to be recited by each still stand, as they stood of old, over the stall of each of the Prebendaries. As there are thirty Prebendaries, and a hundred and fifty psalms, the portion which each was bound to repeat was about five psalms. Dean Donne, who was Prebendary of Chiswick early in the seventeenth century, wrote: “Every day God receives from us, however we be divided from one another in place, the sacrifice of praise in the whole Booke of Psalmes. And though we may be absent from this Quire, yet wheresoever dispersed, we make up a Quire in this Service of saying over all the Psalms every day.”

Of these thirty Canons, a varying number residing on the spot, and taking their part in the daily offices, were called Residentiaries. Besides a constant attendance during all the canonical hours, each Residentiary was expected to show large and costly hospitality, and this practice survived in part so late as the year 1843. Some Canons preferred to live upon their own estates, others held their stalls as one of many pluralities, for they were sometimes bestowed upon bishops, dignitaries, foreigners, and even upon children. Many of them being consequently non-resident, each Canon had a substitute called his Vicar. The vicars took rank after the chaplains, who in their turn were inferior to the minor canons. These corresponded with the Vicars Choral of the present day.

The twelve Minor Canons, a body as old as the Cathedral itself, had a Royal Charter of Incorporation as a College granted them by Richard II. in 1394. They possessed estates of their own, and had a common seal. One of their number was elected by them as Custos or Warden, and two were called Cardinals, Cardinales Chori, an office not found in any other church in England. The chantry priests, a large body of men, were bound not only to say mass at the special altars to which they were attached, but also to attend in choir, and perform there such duties as were assigned to them.

Chaucer alludes to the eagerness with which some of the country clergy, to the neglect of their own benefices, fought for chantries in St. Paul’s. He contrasts with them his model parish priest.

“He sette not his benefice to hire,
And let his sheep accombred in the mire
And ran to London, unto S. Paules,
To seken him a chanterie for soules,
Or with a Brotherhede to be withhold;
But dwelt at home, and kepte well his folde.
So that the wolfe ne made it not miscarry.
He was a shepherd, and no mercenary.”

It is impossible to estimate the number of persons who lived within the Cathedral Close, and were connected with its establishment. Besides the minor officers such as the almoner, vergers, surveyor, scribes, bookbinder, brewer, baker, &c., there were the chaplain and household of the Bishop, the higher officials already enumerated, the choir-boys, the bedesmen and poor, and a host of others.

The baker’s task was no sinecure. It is calculated that the yearly issue of bread amounted to no less than forty thousand loaves. The weight and quality of the loaves, varying according to the rank of the persons supplied, were matters of sufficient importance to be regulated by statute.

With such an ample staff, we may naturally expect that the religious life of the Cathedral exhibited a busy scene. Seven times a day the bells of the Cathedral sounded for the canonical hours. Nocturns or Matins was a service before day-break; Lauds, a service at day-break, quickly following, or even joining Matins; Prime, a late morning service at six o’clock; Tirce, at nine o’clock; Sexts, at noon; Nones, at three o’clock in the afternoon; Vespers, an evening service; and Compline, a late evening service, at bed-time. In 1263, it was ordered that Vespers and Compline should be said together.

Besides a very ample supply of vestments, sacred vessels, relics, and ornaments, old St. Paul’s possessed a fine store of service-books. The greatest treasures were probably the codices or manuscripts of the Gospels. Of these no less than eleven are mentioned in the inventory of the Visitation in 1295, some written in the very large letters of the Saxon period. The ritual books included many fine examples of psalters, antiphonals, books of homilies, missals, manuals, graduals, &c., all beautifully, and even gorgeously bound. The scriptorium of the Cathedral was an important department, and was ably governed. Here were prepared, not only the service-books needed for the church, but the cathedral statutes. The Pauline scribes wrote a bold, clear hand. The inks, both red and black, retain their full lustre, as may be seen by the beautiful examples remaining at the Cathedral Library.

Vestments, plate, and, unfortunately, books also have all disappeared. The loss of the latter is irreparable. Like Sarum, York, and Hereford, St. Paul’s had a “Use” of its own, and of this Use, unfortunately, no example is extant. In 1415, Bishop Clifford, with the consent of the Dean and Chapter, decreed that the Divine Office in St. Paul’s should henceforth be conformable to that of the Church of Salisbury.

The feast days were numerous. Those of the first class included two feasts of St. Erkenwald and the two feasts of St. Paul. On these days the bells were rung two and two before the peal was sounded; on ordinary days they were sounded singly. It will be seen that there was thus an unceasing round of services, extending almost through day and night.

The ordinary daily services were supplemented still further by occasional services. There were the pilgrims to the shrines of Erkenwald and Mellitus; and a short form of prayer, with a hymn, which appears to have been used on these occasions, was printed by the late Dr. Sparrow Simpson, Sub-Dean. An extraordinary instance of this devotion occurred in 1322, when Thomas, earl of Lancaster, grandson of Henry III., and cousin of Edward II., who was then king, was taken captive after his defeat at the battle of Boroughbridge. Six days afterwards he was tried, condemned, and beheaded in his own Castle of Pomfret by a court of peers, with Edward himself at their head. He was sentenced as a rebel taken in arms against the King, and his whole life-record was that of an unscrupulous, treacherous, and selfish man. Yet, owing perhaps to his kindness to the poor and bountiful patronage of the clergy, his fame grew after his death. Miracles were said to have been wrought at his tomb and at a tablet in St. Paul’s, erected to commemorate him.

The people prayed for his canonisation, and thronged to the Cathedral to pay their devotion to this saint of their own making. Leaden brooches, representing a knight holding a battle-axe, have been found in London, and were probably tokens given to pilgrims who had visited the tablet. The practice of distributing signs to pilgrims visiting the shrines of saints was a very common one from early times down to the Reformation period. These pilgrim signs, or signacula, were often worn by pilgrims in their hats as a sign of distinction, and a certain flavour of holiness attached to the wearer, who had braved what in those days were the real perils of a long and painful journey on foot to accomplish his pious purpose.

A similar practice, as is well known, prevails in the Mohammedan world, where a pilgrim to Mecca, the prophet’s birthplace, receives the honourable title of Hadji. The form of the signs varied greatly, and was generally a representation of the saint or his emblem. Many were issued at the shrine of St. Thomas at Canterbury, the Canterbury Bell being a frequent device; St. James of Compostella was represented by an escallop shell, and so on. The objects, which were small, and seldom much larger than a brooch, have been found in large quantities along the banks of the Thames, where the mud appears to have had a preserving influence upon the bronze of which they are made. We can well imagine the joyous return of Chaucer’s Canterbury Pilgrims, each wearing a pilgrim’s sign, when their long journey was completed.

Another curious service at the Cathedral was the mock investiture of the Boy Bishop on Holy Innocents’ Day or Childermas, as it was formerly called. On the Eve of St. Nicholas, the special patron of children (December 6th is his festival), the children of the choir elected one of their number to be the Boy Bishop. At St. Paul’s he was arrayed in pontifical vestments with a rich pastoral staff and a white embroidered mitre. On St. John’s Day, after evensong, the Boy Bishop, with his clerks, officiated at a service; occupying the upper canons’ stalls, whilst these dignitaries themselves served in the boys’ places as acolytes, thurifers, and lower clerks.

The next day, the Feast of the Holy Innocents, the Boy Bishop preached a sermon. Two of these sermons have been preserved, and printed by the Camden Society. The foolish and profane rites were sanctioned by so eminent a man as Dean Colet, and formed the subject of regulations drawn up so early as 1263 for the performance of this function at St. Paul’s.

A brief description of old St. Paul’s, the finest in many respects of our English cathedrals, must now be attempted. Crossing the unsavoury Fleet and ascending Ludgate Hill, the Londoner passed first through Ludgate a little west of St. Martin’s Church, and reached the great western gate of the Close spanning the street near the ends of Creed Lane and Ave Maria Lane. The cathedral stood within a spacious walled enclosure. The wall was built in 1109, and greatly strengthened in 1285, and extended from the north-east corner of Ave Maria Lane, running eastward along Paternoster Row to the north end of Old Change in Cheapside, thence southward to Carter Lane, and on the north of Carter Lane to Creed Lane, back to the great western gate.

Besides this principal entrance, the enclosure had five other gates or posterns. Entering at the western gate, the little church of St. Gregory is seen nestling close to the cathedral on its southern side. The church seems insignificant, and helps to show us the vastness of the cathedral, just as St. Margaret’s Church brings out by contrast the magnificent proportions of Westminster Abbey.

The western front was flanked by two towers, the northern of which was closely attached to the Bishop’s palace; the southern, commonly called the Lollards’ Tower, was used by the Bishop as a prison for heretics. The most prominent feature was the spire, which rose from the centre of the roof to a prodigious height, 493 feet in all. The Bishop’s palace was at the north-west end of the nave. Passing beyond it and its grounds, you arrived at Pardon Church Haugh. This was a goodly cloister, wherein were buried many persons of note, whose monuments surpassed those of the Cathedral itself in number and curious workmanship. The chief feature of the building was the striking series of paintings on the cloister walls, representing the Dance of Death, and beneath them a metrical description of the allegorical design, translated from the French by John Lydgate, a monk of Bury St. Edmunds, and the author of the curious poem, “London Lickpenny.” Within the cloister was a chapel founded by Gilbert à Becket, the father of the famous St. Thomas. Cloister, chapel, monuments, and paintings were all swept away by the ruthless hand of the Protector Somerset to find materials for his palace in the Strand.

North of the cathedral was the college of the minor canons, and east of it Canon Alley. Between the two was Walter Sherrington’s Chapel, and further east, beyond Canon Alley, was the Charnel Chapel. This old building was also pulled down by Somerset, and the bones removed from the crypt beneath taken, in a thousand cart-loads, to Finsbury Fields. The soil required to cover them raised the ground sufficiently for three windmills to stand on. The windmills are seen in Aggas’ map of London, and Windmill Street, Finsbury, now marks the site, as the name “Bunhill Fields” perpetuates the ghastly Bone Hill.

At the north-east angle of the choir was the famous Paul’s Cross. In passing the east end of the church might be seen the magnificent Rose window, one of the very finest in all England. In the clochier or bell-tower was the bell which summoned the citizens of London to the Folkmote held close beside it. Turning westward along the south side of the close, the traveller passed the Chapter House, with its high-pitched roof, the house of the Chancellor, and Paul’s Chain, with its many fair tenements, and close adjoining Paul’s brewhouse and Paul’s bakehouse. To the west lay the Deanery, an ancient house, given to the church by the famous Dean and historian, Ralph de Diceto. At the west end, also, were the houses of the canons, vicars, and many other officials.

The interior of the cathedral was no less beautiful. The immense length of the building from east to west, through choir and nave, was very striking. Some remains of the foundation of the old building may still be seen on the south side of the present cathedral.

In the pre-Reformation services no place was found for preaching; when provision was made for the delivery of sermons, it was by the appointment of a special preacher—in later times known as lecturer—this being no part of the duty of the regular clergy. As early as 1281, Richard de Swinefield, archdeacon of London, and afterwards Bishop of Hereford, was appointed preacher of the cathedral. A few years later, Bishop Richard de Gravesend appointed a divinity lecturer, and Ralph de Baldock endowed the office in the second year of Edward II.

The two great centres of preaching were Paul’s Cross and the Spital; the former was used also—and, perhaps, frequently—as a platform for exerting political influence. Here Dr. Shaw, the brother of Sir John Shaw or Shaa, Lord Mayor, harangued the multitude in support of Richard the Third’s claims to succeed to the Crown, whilst the Duke of Buckingham, Richard’s trusted adherent, appealed on the Protector’s behalf to the chief citizens assembled at Guildhall.

The Jews had a troubled time in London, as in other parts of the country, being exposed to constant extortion by the Sovereign and his ministers. Their principal quarter was in the neighbourhood of the present churches of St. Olave and St. Lawrence Jewry. The thoroughfare of the Old Jewry appears from Mr. Joseph Jacob’s investigations to have been deserted by them prior even to their expulsion from the realm by Edward I. in the year 1291.

Besides the magnificent churches forming part of the monastic establishments, examples of which fortunately remain to us in the churches of St. Bartholomew, Smithfield, St. Saviour’s, Southwark, and the Dutch Church, Austin Friars, the parish churches of the old city were numerous and important. From the inventories of their possessions prepared at the Dissolution, and preserved among the records of the Augmentation Office, it would seem that in the number of their chantries and the richness and extent of their vestments and service books, some of the larger parish churches could almost vie with the Cathedral itself. Although shorn of their magnificence by the legislation of the Reformation period, and the cruel devastation of the Great Fire, the few buildings which escaped the latter catastrophe bear evidence of their former grandeur. The most interesting of them are St. Helen’s, Bishopsgate, with its fine monuments; All Hallows, Barking; St. Olave, Hart Street; and St. Giles, Cripplegate. The large number of the city churches is accounted for by the obligation of each parishioner not only to regularly attend the services at his own parish church, but to ensure the attendance also of his wife and household, apprentices and journeymen. A corresponding obligation rested upon the parish officers to provide a pew or other accommodation for each parishioner in his own parish church. In the smaller parishes situated in the heart of the city this was easy enough, but in border parishes like those of St. Botolph, Bishopsgate, and St. Giles, Cripplegate, it must always have been a difficulty to provide for the large populations which such parishes contained.

There is one very important building of which we have scarcely as yet made mention, for it lies outside London City, the residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury at Lambeth. We call it now “Lambeth Palace,” but the title is of recent date—not older, indeed, than the earlier part of the nineteenth century. Up to that date its occupants dated their letters from “Lambeth House” or “Lambeth Manor.” In old times the title Palace was only given to a bishop’s residence within his own cathedral city. The Bishop of London’s Palace was in St. Paul’s Churchyard; his residence at Fulham was his “house.”

Lambeth (== Loamhythe, i.e., “muddy bank”) had been in Saxon days a royal manor. Edward the Confessor’s sister gave it to the See of Rochester; it came back for a short time to the Crown after the Conquest, but was restored to the Prior and Convent of Rochester by Rufus, and was transferred to Canterbury under the following circumstances.

There had been continual rivalry between the Cathedral Church of Canterbury and the Monastery of St. Augustine. The latter had asserted high rights, and had more than once claimed that of electing the Primate. More than one Archbishop, chafing at all this, determined to have a Chapter of secular canons of his own, and so be independent of the Monks. But the latter so steadfastly resisted this that it was not until 1197 that Archbishop Hubert Walter carried his point by exchanging the Manor of Darenth which he held for that of Lambeth. Darenth was nearer Rochester, and therefore more convenient for that See. Situated, as Lambeth was, immediately opposite the Royal Palace of Westminster, the Archbishop became at once the stay of the Court, and also a check upon any attempt at tyranny—a position which was strongly recognised on more than one occasion. This was really the establishment in fact, of what had been little more than theory before, the Primacy of the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Of the early buildings little is known. The oldest part now existing is the crypt, but this is not older than the early part of the thirteenth century. The present beautiful chapel was built over it by the roystering young Archbishop Boniface, uncle of King Henry the Third’s wife, Eleanor. He had roused the wrath of the Londoners by forcing his way into St. Paul’s Cathedral and claiming all sorts of uncanonical authority over the clergy there, winding up by beating the Prior of St. Bartholomew’s unmercifully with his fists. In the result he built the Chapel of Lambeth as an amend, and it is certainly one of the most beautiful examples of Early English architecture in England. Lambeth House has undergone a vast number of changes. The great entrance gateway was built by Cardinal Morton (1486), the two northern towers by Cranmer, and the long corridor by Cardinal Pole. Later than the period with which we are concerned, Juxon built the present library, and Archbishop Howley almost rebuilt the garden front.

The so-called Lollards’ tower is a misnomer. The building bearing that name in Lollard days was at St. Paul’s, though it is probable enough that some of them were confined at Lambeth. But the deeply interesting inscriptions which may be read on the Lambeth walls were mostly, if not all, cut by prisoners confined here during the Puritan wars. There is one strangely pathetic memorial, immediately opposite the door in the picture. It consists of a number of holes pricked in the wainscot beside a window looking north. Minute examination reveals that some poor creature occupied his lonely hours by pricking out a rough plan of the Great Bear and the surrounding constellations as he saw them from the window.

CHAPTER V.

Of the Confessor’s church, an interesting relic remains in the Pyx Chapel and the adjoining structures against the east cloister and the south transept. The building was cruciform, with a high central tower. The good king lived until the date of its consecration, but was too ill to attend the ceremony, for which he had made elaborate preparations. Queen Editha presided in the place of her husband, who died almost immediately afterwards, and was buried in the church.

Henry III. rebuilt the church on a grander scale, removing the older structure from time to time during the progress of the new work. This great undertaking was begun in 1246, when the east end, the tower, and the transept were pulled down, to reappear in all the lightness, beauty, and variety of the pointed style, forming a striking contrast to the massive and simple impressiveness of the Anglo-Norman edifice. Twenty-five years earlier, in 1221, Henry, then a mere boy, had laid the first stone of the Lady Chapel, and was known as its founder. His devoted interest to the Abbey Church continued throughout his reign. Funds in profusion were provided by the king, or through his instrumentality, both for the building itself and for the costly ornaments to be employed in its services.

Relics were procured to be enshrined at the Abbey, and thus attract the veneration and gifts of the faithful. Many were the donations from Henry’s own royal purse, but most valuable of all was the privilege granted by the king in 1248, permitting the Abbot to hold a fair at Tothill, with privileges of an extraordinary character, all other fairs being ordered to be closed, as well as the shops of London itself, during the days of its continuance. Altogether, by various methods, a sum of nearly £30,000 was raised within the short period of fifteen years, and applied to the rebuilding of the Abbey. By the close of Henry the Third’s long reign the new building had made substantial progress, and consisted of the Confessor’s Chapel, the four chapels in the choir ambulatory, a large portion of the choir itself, the transepts, and probably the chapter-house. The work proceeded slowly, but steadily, for rather more than two centuries, and ended with the completion of Henry the Seventh’s Chapel, the central tower never having risen upon its foundations.

The Palace of Westminster, like its sister building, the Abbey, was remodelled by Henry III. in accordance with the architecture of his time. It was this monarch most probably who converted the apartment known as St. Edward’s Chamber into the better-known Painted Chamber, by embellishing it with the masterly wall-paintings from which it took its name. In this room was signed the warrant for the execution of Charles I. Another portion of the ancient palace was the old House of Lords, so nearly destroyed by Fawkes and his fellow-conspirators. The later House of Lords also formed part of the old building, and had in the course of its history various names. First it was known, probably, as the Hall, before Rufus had erected the grand structure now known by that name, and in consequence of which erection it was designated the Little Hall. In Richard the Second’s time, Little Hall had changed to Whitehall; and, again, under Henry VII., to the Court of Requests, when it was also known, according to Stow, as “the Poor Man’s Court, because there he could have right without paying any money.”

Attached to the ancient Palace of Westminster was the beautiful Chapel of St. Stephen, built by the Norman monarch of that name, and rebuilt by Edward I. It was destroyed by fire in 1298, and was again rebuilt during the reigns of Edward II. and Edward III., and completed in 1363 in the glorious beauty of the architecture of that period. All that now remains is the crypt or lower chapel, but the building in its original state consisted of the chapel, with vestibule, crypt, cloister, and a small oratory with chantry above. The walls were adorned with sculptures and highly artistic paintings, illustrating scenes from Scripture narratives. The endowments of the collegiate establishment, as settled by Edward III., were of a like sumptuous character. The yearly revenues amounted at the Dissolution to nearly £1100, which provided for the maintenance of a dean, twelve secular canons, twelve vicars, four clerks, and six choristers, besides minor officials.

Between the years 1389 and 1391 the office of Clerk of the Works at the Palace of Westminster was held by Geoffrey Chaucer, who also had charge of the works at the Tower and at the mews near Charing Cross. Rather more than eighty years later Westminster received the new distinction of being the home of William Caxton, the father of English printing.

Yet another building of great historic interest, happily still preserved, is the stately and venerable Westminster Hall. Built originally by William Rufus as a royal banqueting-hall, it has served this purpose at the coronations of our English sovereigns down to the reign of George IV. Here occurred one of the strangest and most picturesque events in our national history. Henry II., with the assent of a general assembly of his subjects, caused his son Henry to be crowned in his own lifetime. The feast in the great hall presented a striking scene. The old king himself waited on his son at the table as server, bringing up the boar’s head with trumpets before it in the accustomed manner. His son, however, predeceased him.

Henry III. was specially distinguished for his royal hospitality. On St. Edward’s Day (January 5th), 1241-2, he feasted, we are told, an innumerable multitude, among whom were the citizens of London. The latter would seem to have been somewhat unwilling guests, as they were subjected by royal edict to a penalty of one hundred shillings if they stayed away. On another occasion, the marriage of his brother, Richard, earl of Cornwall, Henry ordered thirty thousand dishes to be prepared for the banquet. A more pleasing feature of this monarch’s hospitality was his generous entertainment of the poor, who crowded the Hall and its apartments year after year on the day of St. Edward, his patron saint. The great size and imposing appearance of Westminster Hall naturally led to its use for public assemblies of an extraordinary character. Here the Parliament frequently met before the division into two houses, and the Lords continued to assemble in it for some time after. Here Edward III. received his august prisoner, John, King of France, whom the Black Prince had escorted in a triumphal procession through London.

Edward’s grandson and successor, Richard II., rebuilt the Hall, and covered it with its wonderful roof. The Hall, as we have said, was the scene of the unfortunate Richard’s deposition, and the successful claim of his rival, Henry of Lancaster, to succeed him on the throne. In later years Westminster Hall has been the scene of a memorable series of state trials, which occupy so large a part of its traditions.

Besides the Palace of Westminster and the fortress abode of the Tower of London, there were within the City of London other places which were frequently used as royal residences. One of the most celebrated of these was Castle Baynard, which was built by Baynard, a follower of the Conqueror. Reverting to the Crown in 1111 by forfeiture, it was granted to Robert Fitz-Richard, son of Gilbert, Earl of Clare. In 1198 the castle came by hereditary succession into the hands of Robert Fitz-Walter, who took a conspicuous part in the Barons’ Wars in the time of King John. At a later time Castle Baynard was held by its lords, the Fitz-Walters, subject to a military service due to the City of London.

The Lord of Baynard’s Castle was the Chatelain and Banner-bearer of the City, and as such a later Robert Fitz-Walter on 12th March, 1303, acknowledged his service for his Castle Baynard before Sir Robert Blunt, Lord Mayor of London. The City, in return, granted important rights and privileges to their great vassal, Fitz-Walter. These comprised, as we learn from Stow, a limited jurisdiction within his hereditary soke of Castle Baynard, and a high military command in time of war. The old chronicler gives a picturesque description of the formal greeting offered to their leader by the assembled citizens. The scene forms the subject of one of the modern tapestries decorating the saloon of the Mansion House.

“The said Robert ought to come, he being the twentieth man of arms on horseback, unto the great west door of St. Paul, with his banner displayed before him of his arms. And when he is come to the said door, mounted and apparelled as before is said, the Mayor with his Aldermen and Sheriffs, armed in their arms, shall come out of the said Church of St. Paul unto the said door, with a banner in his hand, all on foot; which banner shall be gules, the image of St. Paul, gold; the face, hands, feet, and sword of silver. And as soon as the said Robert shall see the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs come on foot out of the church, armed with such a banner, he shall alight from his horse and salute the Mayor, and say to him, ‘Sir Mayor, I am come to do my service, which I owe the City.’ And the Mayor and Aldermen shall answer, ‘We give to you, as to our Banneret of Fee in this city, the banner of this city to bear and govern to the honour and profit of this city, to your power.’ And the said Robert, and his heirs, shall receive the banner in his hands, and go on foot out of the gate, with the banner in his hands; and the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs shall follow to the door, and shall bring an horse to the said Robert, worth twenty pounds, which horse shall be saddled with a saddle of the arms of the said Robert, and shall be covered with sindals of the said arms. Also they shall present to him twenty pounds sterling, and deliver it to the chamberlain of the said Robert, for his expenses that day.” The Banneret then sets forth and desires the Mayor to cause a marshal, “one of the city,” to be chosen for the host, and the citizens to assemble and all go under the banner of St. Paul. If they should go out of the city, then Fitz-Walter was to choose two out of every ward, the most sage persons, to look to the keeping of the city. Lastly, for every siege which the host of London should lay against town or castle, the said Robert shall have one hundred shillings and no more. Baynard’s Castle passed from the hands of the Fitz-Walters and came into the possession of the celebrated “Duke Humphrey,” on whose attainder it was seized by the Crown, and, as we have already said, became one of the royal places of abode within the city.

Close by Baynard’s Castle to the west, and at the mouth of the river Fleet, stood the palace of Bridewell, still more famous as a royal residence, of which we have already written.

Old Whitehall, with its Tennis Yard and Cock Pit, belongs, in its royal splendour, to later times, although it existed, under another name, from an early period. It was originally built by Hubert de Burgh, the great justiciary of the reign of Henry III. From him it passed, through an intermediate grant, into the possession of Walter de Grey, archbishop of York, who purchased it in 1248. It then became, and long continued, the London house of the See of York, and was known as York House. Wolsey was its last archiepiscopal owner, and had to surrender it to his imperious master, Henry VIII., by whom, and his royal successors, it was occupied as a palace until its destruction by fire in 1698.

The mansions of the nobility which lined the south side of the Strand, with their river gates and stairs, have an interest almost equal to that of the royal mansions already mentioned. On a site extending west from Fleet Street to the present Essex Street anciently stood a building known as the Outer Temple, which, with the Inner and Middle Temples, formed the abode of the Knights Templars. This mansion passed, during the reign of Edward III., into the hands of the Bishops of Exeter, who made it their London residence under the name of Exeter House. It afterwards became known as Paget Place and Leicester House, from the names of two subsequent owners—Sir William (afterwards Lord) Paget, and Queen Elizabeth’s favourite, the Earl of Leicester. The unfortunate Earl of Essex became in turn the owner of the property, which was then known as Essex House. Here he assembled his followers on Sunday, the 8th of February, 1600-1, and marched at their head into the City, hoping to rouse the Londoners to the support of his cause. He signally failed, and with difficulty escaped by boat to Essex House. Here he was besieged by the royal forces, to whom he surrendered with his friend, the Earl of Southampton, and paid the supreme penalty a little more than a fortnight afterwards.

Another stately river mansion was Arundel House, at first known as Bath’s Inn, or Hampton Place, the London seat of the See of Bath and Wells. It was next called Seymour Place, from another owner, Lord Thomas Seymour, uncle of Edward VI. On Seymour’s attainder and execution, the property reverted to the Crown, and was sold, with other messuages for the moderate sum of 41l. 6s. 8d., to the Earl of Arundel, who gave it his own name. This nobleman was the famous collector of the Arundel marbles, and his house was the common resort of the most famous artists of his day, among them being Inigo Jones, Vandyck, and Wenceslaus Hollar. Here, too, the Royal Society found a temporary home after the destruction of Gresham College in the Great Fire. Soon after, Arundel House, said to have been one of the finest and most commodious of London’s mansions, was pulled down, its site being now occupied by Arundel, Norfolk, Surrey, and Howard Streets.

Further west we come again to a building of historic fame, which took a large part in the activities of mediæval London. This was the palace of the Savoy, built in 1245 on the spot which still bears its name, now occupied by Wellington Street at the approach to Waterloo Bridge. Peter de Savoy, its founder, was the brother of Boniface, archbishop of Canterbury, and uncle to Eleanor, the queen of Henry III. On coming to England, he was created Earl of Savoy and Richmond, and was knighted in Westminster Abbey. The house came afterwards into the possession of the Earls of Lancaster, by one of whom it was enlarged on a magnificent scale in 1325, at a cost of 52,000 marks. John of Gaunt became by marriage the owner of the Savoy, and in 1356 it was used as the prison-house of John, the captive King of France. Here he lived for four years, and hither, on failing to fulfil the conditions of the treaty which secured to him his liberty, he chivalrously returned. On the 9th of April, 1364, he died in the Savoy, and his remains were honourably conveyed to France for burial. The great Duke of Lancaster and his Palace at the Savoy were in much danger from a rising of the citizens of London under their standard-bearer, Lord Fitz-Walter, in a quarrel arising out of the citation of Wickliffe before the Bishop of London. The danger became more real in 1381, the year of Wat Tyler’s insurrection. On the 12th of June the Kentish rebels had complete mastery in London, one body marching off to attack Lambeth Palace, whilst another assembled at the Savoy. Here they set fire to the building, breaking up the gold and silver plate, while, to complete the work of destruction, some barrels of gunpowder, which the rioters supposed to have been filled with treasure, were thrown into the fire, blowing up the Hall and surrounding houses. For a century and a quarter the Savoy lay waste, and when it arose from its ruins it was endowed as a hospital by King Henry VII. Much interest attaches to the latter fortunes of the Savoy and its famous Chapel, but the story lies outside our present purpose.

Many noble mansions built in later times shared the beautiful Thames frontage with the older houses, which are the proper subject of our notice. Beyond the Savoy to the east lay Worcester, Rutland, and Cecil Houses, and then we come to Durham House, one of the oldest and most interesting in this street of palaces. It stood on the site afterwards occupied in part by the Adelphi theatre, and was originally founded by Anthony de Beck, Patriarch of Jerusalem and Bishop of Durham, in the reign of Edward I. Bishop Hatfield is said by Stow to have rebuilt it. Here the challengers in the famous joustings at Westminster, in 1540, entertained at dinner not only the King and Queen, with the Court, but also the whole House of Commons and the Mayor and Aldermen of London, with their wives. In the following reign the Royal Mint was established in Durham House. Here, too, the unfortunate Lady Jane Grey lived, under the roof of her ambitious uncle, the Duke of Northumberland, and set out in great state from its portals on her ill-fated mission to be acclaimed Queen at the Tower.

We will now again turn our steps citywards to the great highway of Bishopsgate, where, closely adjoining the church of St. Helen, still stands the venerable mansion known as Crosby Place. Sir John Crosby, the owner and reputed builder of the mansion, was an Alderman and Sheriff of London in Edward the Fourth’s reign, and served the city in Parliament in 1461; he was also Mayor of the Staple of Calais. Attaching himself to the fortunes of Edward IV., he was knighted by the King on his approach to London in 1471. Four years later Crosby died, and his magnificent abode soon became a favourite royal residence. Richard, Duke of Gloucester, whilst Protector, made this his home and the centre of his plots to secure the Crown for himself. In the story as told by Shakespeare, the usurper bids the Lady Anne—

“presently repair to Crosby House;
Where, after I have solemnly interr’d
At Chertsey monastery this noble King,
And wet his grave with my repentant tears,
I will with all expedient duty see you.”

There is little doubt that we owe the preservation of the Great Hall and so much of the rest of this fine building to the notoriety which it has gained from the allusion in the above passage. In later times the Hall was used for the acccommodation of foreign ambassadors; many a mayoralty feast was held within its walls, the most famous recorded one being that given by Sir Bartholomew Read, goldsmith, in 1502, when the guests were most numerous and “of great estate,” and the provision made for their entertainment was on a scale of unparalleled magnificence.

Far away below bridge on the right bank of the Thames lay another Royal Palace, that of Greenwich. The Manor of Greenwich belonged to the Crown at an early period. In 1300 Edward I. and the Prince his son made offering “at each of the holy crosses of the Virgin Mary at Greenwich.” The estate passed for a time out of Royal hands, but Humphrey, duke of Gloucester, enclosed a park of 200 acres, built a tower known as Greenwich Castle, and the more famous Palace of Placentia, which on his death in 1447 reverted to the Crown, the Palace becoming the favourite abode of the early Tudor sovereigns.

It now remains to speak of that grand national monument which, for varied interest, exceeds all its sister buildings in the ancient city—the Tower of London. Stow has well described the various uses which from time to time it has served:—“A citadel to defend or command the city; a royal palace for assemblies or treaties; a prison of State for the most dangerous offenders; the only place of coinage for all England; the armoury for warlike provision; the treasury of the ornaments and jewels of the Crown; and general conserver of the most ancient records of the King’s Courts of Justice at Westminster.” The Great or White Tower was built at the command of William the Conqueror by Gundulph, Bishop of Rochester, about the year 1078. Much injury was done to the new work by a storm in 1092, and the fortifications were repaired and extended by William Rufus, who, for this purpose and for the erection of Westminster Hall, cruelly oppressed his subjects with taxes. The building of the subsidiary forts and defences appears to have continued during the reigns of Henry I. and most of his successors to the time of Edward I.

The custody of the Tower was committed by the Conqueror to a Constable or Governor, whose office was at first hereditary. In or about the year 1140 it was held by Geoffrey, grandson of Geoffrey de Mandeville, who was created Earl of Essex by King Stephen. Soon afterwards he took the side of the Empress Maud, and being besieged by the citizens, sustained the attack for a long time, and in a sally took the Bishop of London prisoner at Fulham. The Tower seems to have been regarded in those days as impregnable, and Geoffrey retained his possession of it until 1143, when he was taken prisoner by stratagem, and compelled to surrender it. The possession of the Tower fortress was always regarded by the English monarchs as of the highest importance, as it enabled them to overawe the citizens, and also furnished a safe retreat for the sovereign’s own person. Longchamp, bishop of Ely, was left by Richard Cœur de Lion as chief guardian of the kingdom and in charge of the Tower during the King’s absence in Palestine. John, by his influence with the citizens, prevailed on them to desert the cause of his royal brother and Longchamp, and the latter, after handing to John the keys of the Tower, escaped, disguised as a woman, to France. During the insurrection of Wat Tyler, the mob, through some unaccountable negligence or treachery on the part of the guard, got within the Tower and overran its apartments, insulting the Princess of Wales, the mother of Richard II., and dragging forth from their refuge in the chapel Simon, archbishop of Canterbury and chancellor, and Sir Robert Hales, treasurer, both of whom they immediately beheaded. The importance attached to the safe keeping of the Tower appeared in a striking manner at a much later period, when, in 1641, Charles I. roused the whole city and both Houses almost to a frenzy by appointing and persisting in maintaining Colonel Lunsford as Lieutenant of the Tower. The appointment was universally regarded as dangerous and unfit, and the King was at last compelled to recall it. It may be mentioned, as a fact not generally known, that the Lord Mayor receives every three months a list, under the sovereign’s sign-manual, of the daily pass-word to the Tower.

As a palace, the Tower can boast of an almost continuous use by the English sovereigns for five hundred years, ending with the accession of Charles II. Stephen is the first King who is recorded to have held his Court within the Tower. This was in 1140, when his affairs were not in a prosperous state, and the security of the Tower offered him a great temptation. John was also a frequent resident here, and on his death Prince Lewis, the Dauphin of France, made his abode at the Tower previous to renouncing all claim to the throne of England. Henry III., during his minority, constantly kept his Court here, celebrating the religious festivals with great pomp. These were held in the chapel in the White Tower, perhaps the most perfect Norman building existing in England; a chaplain, who received a yearly salary of fifty shillings, conducting daily service. The three Edwards who succeeded Henry on the throne, seldom resided in their London fortress, but its dungeons were filled with their foreign prisoners of highest rank. Richard II. visited the Tower to prepare for his coronation procession. On the preceding day he was welcomed in great state and with brilliant pageantry by the Mayor, Aldermen, and citizens, and this city reception became from this time an established custom. Froissart gives a brilliant description of the grand tournament held in London by Richard in 1390, when the King entertained in the Tower a large number of distinguished foreign guests. It witnessed a very different scene nine years later, also chronicled by Froissart, when Richard abdicated the throne in favour of Bolingbroke. In the following year his body was brought from Pontefract to London, and carried on a bier from the Tower to Cheapside, where it lay for two hours, while 20,000 people, says Froissart, came to gaze upon his face. It was then carried to King’s Langley, and interred in the church of the Dominican Friars; but was removed by Henry V. to the tomb which Richard had prepared for himself in Westminster Abbey. Neither Henry IV. nor Henry V. lived much in the Tower, but Charles, duke of Orleans, and his brother John, count of Angoulême, who were taken prisoners at Agincourt, suffered many years’ imprisonment here. Among the Harleian manuscripts is a copy of the poems of the Duke, which contains the beautiful illumination, already mentioned, representing the Tower and London Bridge, with the intervening buildings, at the time of the Duke’s captivity. It is reproduced in our frontispiece.