The great but unrighteous claim of Edward III to the crown of France, resulting in the “hundred years’ war” concerns us here thus far, that he resided in the Tower whilst he was making his preparations to enforce his claim; and on his departure placed a strong garrison in it, and furnished it as a fit and secure residence for his son, Prince Edward, whom he appointed regent in his absence. In 1341 he secretly returned to England, landed at the Tower at midnight on November 30, accompanied by the Earl of Northampton, Sir Walter Manny, and other great men, and finding the fortress badly guarded, imprisoned the governor and officers and treated them with exemplary rigour. He took up his residence in the Tower, discharged the Lord Treasurer and the Lord Chancellor, Robert Bishop of Chichester, and delivered the great seal to Robert Bourchier, who afterwards fought at Crecy. All these strong measures were in consequence of the disorders and abuses which he found. From this time till 1342 King Edward kept his Court here, and here, during that period, his Queen Philippa gave birth to a princess who was named Blanche, but who died in infancy and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

That great war wrought momentous changes in the course of English history, which will indirectly concern us in these pages. It also changed very decidedly and materially the position and the uses of the Tower, which from this time onwards became peculiarly celebrated as the prison of illustrious captives. On July 27, 1346, King Edward captured Caen, one of the richest and most powerful towns in Normandy, and took prisoner the Constable of France, the Count d’Eu, the Count of Tankerville, and sent them with 300 of the most opulent citizens as prisoners to the Tower of London. He then marched along Northern France, on August 26 won the battle of Crecy, and on September 3 laid siege to Calais, a very strong town, which had done much harm to the English and Flemings by piracies. That memorable siege lasted just eleven months, and we all remember the pretty story of the self-devotion of Eustace de Saint Pierre and the averting of the King’s vengeance by the intercession of Queen Philippa.

While this siege was going on King Philip of France persuaded the King of Scotland, David Bruce, to invade England, and so to revenge past injuries, and secure future independence. He came with 50,000 men, laid waste all the border country, and drew nigh to Durham. But here he was met by a small body of English, led by Lord Percy, and entirely defeated. This was the battle of Neville’s Cross, fought on October 17, 1346. King David was taken prisoner, as were the Earls of Fife and Monteith and several more Scottish chiefs. They were all brought to London to the amazing joy and delight of the citizens. The captive King was mounted on a high black courser; the City Guilds, clad in their respective liveries, made a great escort for him, through street after street, until he was committed to the custody of Sir John D’Arcy, the Constable of the Tower, on January 2, 1347. The same year the roll of illustrious captives was increased by the famous Charles of Blois, one of the competitors for the Duchy of Brittany, and, on the surrender of Calais, by its valiant governor, John of Vienne, and twelve of his comrades. Bruce continued in captivity here for eleven years.

In 1358 the great fortress received a yet more illustrious prisoner. King John of France and his son Philip were taken captive by Edward the Black Prince at the battle of Poitiers, and brought to London. At first they were lodged in the Duke of Lancaster’s palace in the Savoy, then at Windsor, and apparently had a fine time with hawking and hunting and good cheer. Next year when King Edward returned to France “he made all the lordes of France, such as were prisoners, to be put into dyvers places and strange castelles, to be the more sure of them, and the Frenche Kynge was set in the Towre of London, and his yonge sonne with hym, and moche of hys pleasure and sport restrayned; for he was then straytlyer kept than he was before.” They had not a bad time of it, however, here apparently. The Scottish King had just been liberated, but there were many French nobles to make up a court for him. Next year the treaty of Bretigny restored him to his country.

Coining operations had been carried on in the Tower here ever since the Norman Conquest, if not long before. It was not, however, the only place. In the reign of Charles I there seem to have been fifteen mints, but an edict of the reign of Edward III enacted that all moneys, wherever coined, should be made uniform with those of the Tower. After the Restoration, small rolling-mills were set up in the Tower, driven by horse and water power, and a great improvement was hereby effected—milled instead of hammered coins. The workshops were between the inner and outer walls, and the road which runs between St. Thomas’s Tower and the Bloody Tower was formerly called Mint Street. In 1696 an Act was passed, calling in the old hammered coinage, to be melted down in a furnace at Westminster, and sent in ingots to the Tower, to reappear in milled form. Sir Isaac Newton, Master of the Mint, made many more improvements. In 1810 the Mint was removed outside—to Little Tower Hill, where it is at this day.

Though it did not belong to the Tower, nor was within its limits, the Royal Hospital of St. Katharine’s by the Tower cannot be passed over without mention. It was founded in 1148 by Matilda, wife of King Stephen, for the repose of her two children, for the maintenance of a master and several poor brothers and sisters. Eleanor, Henry III’s widow, augmented it in 1273, “for a master, three brethren, chaplains, three sisters, ten bedeswomen, and six poor scholars.” The foundation was placed under the especial patronage and jurisdiction of the Queen Consorts of England, and, with all changes, has so remained to the present day. The office of Master is the only preferment in the gift of the Queen Consort or Queen Dowager. Queen Philippa, Edward III’s wife, gave houses in Kent and Herts for its additional support. Thomas de Bekington, Master in 1445, afterwards Bishop of Bath and Wells, obtained a charter of privileges, by which the precincts of the hospital were decreed free of all jurisdiction, civil or religious, except that of the Lord Chancellor, and to help the funds an annual fair was to be held on Tower Hill, to last twenty-one days from the Feast of St. James.

Henry VIII and Katharine of Aragon founded here a guild of St. Barbara, among the governors of which was Cardinal Wolsey. He did not suppress it with the other religious houses, in compliment to Anne Boleyn, whom he had lately married.

The Church was in the Decorated style, very close to the Iron Gate of the Tower, properly St. Katharine’s Gate. Stow, writing in 1598, describes it as “enclosed about and pestered with small tenements and homely cottages.” When the royal assent was given to the making of St. Katharine’s Docks in 1825, the hospital was removed to Regent’s Park. There were some interesting monuments in the old church. The first President of the Royal Society, Lord Brouncker, was buried here, and Ducarel the Antiquary. The fine tombs of John Holland, Duke of Exeter, his duchess, and his sisters, were removed to the Regent’s Park. The Duke, who died in 1447, was High Admiral of England and Ireland and Constable of the Tower.