Memorials of Old London
VOLUME II.
CRAB TREE INN, HAMMERSMITH 1898
From a painting by Philip Norman, LL.D.
MEMORIALS
OF OLD LONDON
EDITED BY
P. H. DITCHFIELD, M.A., F.S.A.
Fellow of the Royal Historical Society
Author of
The City Companies of London and their Good Works
The Story of our Towns
The Cathedral Churches of Great Britain
&c. &c.
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. II.
With Many Illustrations
LONDON
BEMROSE & SONS LIMITED, 4 SNOW HILL, E.C.
AND DERBY
1908
[All Rights Reserved]
[CONTENTS OF VOL. II.]
| Page | ||
| The Palaces of London | By Rev. R. S. Mylne, B.C.L., F.S.A. | [1] |
| Elizabethan London | By T. Fairman Ordish, F.S.A. | [21] |
| Pepys's London | By H. B. Wheatley, F.S.A. | [52] |
| The Old London Bridges | By J. Tavenor-Perry | [82] |
| The Clubs of London | By Sir Edwd. Brabrook, C.B., F.S.A. | [99] |
| The Inns of Old London | By Philip Norman, LL.D. | [113] |
| The Old London Coffee-Houses | By G. L. Apperson, I.S.O. | [135] |
| The Learned Societies of London | By Sir Edwd. Brabrook, C.B., F.S.A. | [150] |
| Literary Shrines of Old London | By Elsie M. Lang | [166] |
| Crosby Hall | By the Editor | [182] |
| The Pageant of London; with some account of the City Churches, Christ's Hospital, etc. | By the Editor | [193] |
| Index | [223] | |
[LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOL. II.]
| Crab Tree Inn, Hammersmith, 1898 | [Frontispiece] |
| (From a painting by Philip Norman, LL.D.) | |
| Page, or Facing Page | |
| The Houses of Parliament | [4] |
| (From a photo. by Mansell & Co.) | |
| A View of the Savoy Palace from the River Thames | [6] |
| (From an engraving published by the Society of Antiquaries in 1750, from a plan by G. Virtue) | |
| Portion of an exact Survey of the Streets, Lanes, and Churches | [8] |
| (Comprehended by the order and directions of the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor, 10th December, 1666) | |
| The Prospect of Bridewell | [10] |
| (Published according to Act of Parliament, 1755, for Stow's Survey) | |
| The Palace of Whitehall | [14] |
| (From a photo. by Mansell & Co.) | |
| St. James's Palace | [16] |
| (From a photo. by Mansell & Co.) | |
| St. James's Palace, from Pall Mall and from the Park | [18] |
| (From an old print) | |
| Plan of London in the time of Queen Elizabeth (1563) | [24] |
| (From an old print) | |
| Shooting Match by the London Archers in the Year 1583 | [44] |
| (From an old print) | |
| A View of London as it appeared before the Great Fire | [56] |
| (From an old print) | |
| The Great Fire of London | [76] |
| (From an old print) | |
| South-West View of Old St. Paul's | [80] |
| (From an old print) | |
| Sir John Evelyn's Plan for Rebuilding London after the Great Fire | [82] |
| (From an old print) | |
| The Undercroft of St. Thomas of Canterbury on the Bridge | [84] |
| The Surrey End of London Bridge | [89] |
| (Drawn by J. Tavenor-Perry) | |
| The Foundation Stone Chair | [93] |
| (Drawn by J. Tavenor-Perry) | |
| Old Westminster Bridge | [96] |
| (Drawn by J. Tavenor-Perry) | |
| Badge of Bridge House Estates | [98] |
| (Drawn by J. Tavenor-Perry) | |
| An Early Letter of the Royal Society, dated January 18th, 1693-4 | [152] |
| Cheapside, with the Cross, as they appeared in 1660 | [170] |
| (From an old print) | |
| Crosby Hall | [184] |
| (From a drawing by Whichillo, engraved by Stour) | |
| St. Paul's Cathedral, with Lord Mayor's Show on the water | [190] |
| (From an engraving by Pugh, 1804) | |
| Christ's Hospital | [194] |
| (From an old print) | |
| Carrying the Crug-basket | [196] |
| Wooden Platters and Beer Jack | [198] |
| Piggin, Wooden Spoon, Wooden Soup-ladle | [199] |
| Christ's Hospital: The Garden | [200] |
| (From a photo.) | |
| Old Staircase at Christ's Hospital | [202] |
| The Royal Exchange | [218] |
| (From an engraving by Hollar, 1644) | |
[THE PALACES OF LONDON]
By the Rev. R. S. Mylne, B.C.L. (Oxon), F.S.A. F.R.S. (Scots.)
The housing of the Sovereign is always a matter of interest to the nation. It were natural to expect that some definite arrangement should be made for this purpose, planned and executed on a grand and appropriate scale. Yet as a matter of fact this is seldom the case amongst the western nations of Europe. Two different causes have operated in a contrary direction. One is the natural predilection of the ruler of the State for a commodious palace outside, but not far from, the capital. Thus the great Castle of Windsor has always been par excellence the favourite residence of the King of England. The other is the growth of parliamentary institutions. Thus the entire space occupied by the original Royal Palace has become the official meeting-place of the Parliament; and the King himself has perforce been compelled to find accommodation elsewhere.
Look at the actual history of the Royal Palace of Westminster, where the High Court of Parliament now is accustomed to assemble. It was on this very spot that Edward the Confessor lived and died, glorying in the close proximity of the noble abbey that seemed to give sanctity to his own abode. Here the last Saxon King entertained Duke William of Normandy, destined to be his own successor on the throne. Here he gave the famous feast in which he foretold the failure of the crusades, as Baring Gould records in his delightful Myths of the Middle Ages. Here Edward I. was born, and Edward III. died. The great hall was erected by William Rufus, and the chapel by King Stephen. Henry VIII. added the star chamber. The painted chamber, decorated with frescoes by Henry III., was probably the oldest portion of the mediæval palace, and just beyond was the prince's chamber with walls seven feet thick. There was also the ancient Court of Requests, which served as the House of Lords down to 1834. The beautiful Gothic Chapel of St. Stephen was used as the House of Commons from 1547 to 1834. The walls were covered with frescoes representing scenes from the Old and New Testaments. In modern times they resounded to the eloquence of Pitt, Fox, Burke, and Canning.
The curious crypt beneath this chapel was carefully prepared by H.M. Office of Works for the celebration of the marriage of Lord Chancellor Loreburn last December, and a coffin was discovered while making certain reparations to the stonework, which is believed to contain the remains of the famous Dr. Lyndwode, Bishop of St. David's from 1442 to 1446.
In the terrible fire on the night of October 16, 1834, the entire palace was destroyed with the exception of the great hall, which, begun by William Rufus, received its present beautiful roof of chestnut wood from Henry Yeveley, architect or master mason to Richard II.
The present magnificent Palace of Westminster was erected by Sir Charles Barry between 1840 and 1859 in the Gothic style, and is certainly one of the finest modern buildings in the world. The river front is remarkably effective, and presents an appearance which at once arrests the attention of every visitor. It is quite twice the size of the old palace, formerly occupied by the King, and cost three millions sterling. It is certainly the finest modern building in London.
Some critics have objected to the minuteness of the decorative designs on the flat surfaces of the walls, but these are really quite in accord with the delicate genius of Gothic architecture, and fine examples of this kind of work are found in Belgium and other parts of the Continent.
Every one must admit the elegance of proportion manifested in the architect's design, and this it is which makes the towers stand out so well above the main building from every point of view; moreover, this is the special characteristic which is often so terribly lacking in modern architecture. One wonders whether Vitruvius and kindred works receive their due meed of attention in this twentieth century.
Within the palace the main staircase, with the lobby and corridors leading to either House of Parliament, are particularly fine, and form a worthy approach to the legislative chambers of the vast Empire of Great Britain.
The Palace of the Savoy also needs some notice. The original house was built by Peter, brother of Boniface, for so many years Archbishop of Canterbury, and uncle of Eleanor of Provence, wife of King Henry III. By his will Peter bequeathed this estate to the monks of Montjoy at Havering-at-Bower, who sold it to Queen Eleanor, and it became the permanent residence of her second son Edmund, Earl of Lancaster, and his descendants. When King John of France was made a prisoner after the battle of Poitiers in 1356, he was assigned an apartment in the Savoy, and here he died on April 9, 1364. The sad event is thus mentioned in the famous chronicle of Froissart:—
"The King and Queen, and all the princes of the blood, and all the nobles of England were exceedingly concerned from the great love and affection King John had shewn them since the conclusion of peace."
The best-known member of the Lancastrian family who resided in this palace is the famous John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. During his time, so tradition has it, the well-known poet Chaucer was here married to Philippa, daughter of Sir Paon de Roet, one of the young ladies attached to the household of Blanche, Duchess of Lancaster, and the sister of Catherine Swynford, who at a later period became the Duke's third wife. However this may be, the Savoy was at that time the favourite resort of the nobility of England, and John of Gaunt's hospitality was unbounded. Stow, in his Chronicle, declares "there was none other house in the realm to be compared for beauty and stateliness." Yet how very transitory is earthly glory, all the pride of place and power!
In the terrible rebellion of Wat Tyler, in the year 1381, the Savoy was pillaged and burnt, and the Duke was compelled to flee for his life to the northern parts of Great Britain. His Grace had become very unpopular on account of the constant protection he had extended to the simple followers of Wickcliffe.
After this dire destruction the Savoy was never restored to its former palatial proportions. The whole property passed to the Crown, and King Henry VII. rebuilt it, and by his will endowed it in a liberal manner as a hospital in honour of St. John the Baptist. This hospital was suppressed at the Reformation under Edward VI., most of the estates with which it was endowed passing to the great City Hospital of St. Thomas. But Queen Mary refounded the hospital as an almshouse with a master and other officers, and this latter foundation was finally dissolved in 1762.
Over the gate, now long destroyed, of King Henry VII.'s foundation were these words:—
"Hospitium hoc inopi turbe Savoia vocatum
Septimus Henricus solo fundavit ab imo."
The Houses of Parliament.
The church, which is the only existing remnant of former splendour, was built as the chapel of Henry VII.'s Hospital, and is an interesting example of Perpendicular architecture, with a curious and picturesque belfry. In general design it resembles a college chapel, and the religious services held therein are well maintained. Her late Majesty Queen Victoria behaved with great generosity to the church of the Savoy. In her capacity of Duchess of Lancaster she restored the interior woodwork and fittings, and after a destructive fire in 1864 effected a second restoration of the entire interior of this sacred edifice. There is now a rich coloured roof, and appropriate seats for clergy and people. There is also preserved a brass belonging to the year 1522 from the grave of Thomas Halsey, Bishop of Leighlin, and Gavin Douglas, Bishop of Dunkeld, famous in Scottish history for his piety and learning. There is also a small figure from Lady Dalhousie's monument, but all the other tombs perished in the flames in 1864. The history of the central compartment of the triptych over the font is curious. It was painted for the Savoy Palace in the fourteenth century, afterwards lost, and then recovered in 1876.
Amongst the famous ministers of the Savoy were Thomas Fuller, author of the Worthies, and Anthony Horneck. In the Savoy was held the famous conference between twelve bishops and twelve Nonconformists for the revision of the Liturgy soon after the accession of King Charles II. In this conference Richard Baxter took a prominent part.
In this brief sketch nothing is more remarkable than the great variety of uses to which the palace of the Savoy has been put, as well as the gradual decay of mediæval splendour. Still, however, the name is very familiar to the multitudes of people who are continually passing up and down the Strand. Yet it is a far cry to the days of Archbishop Boniface of Savoy, and Edmund Earl of Lancaster.
Bridewell is situated on a low-lying strip of land between the Thames and the Fleet, just westwards of the south-western end of the Roman wall of London. In early days this open space only possessed a tower for defensive purposes, just as the famous Tower of London guarded the eastern end of the city. Hard by was the church of St. Bride, founded in the days of the Danes, most likely in the reign of King Canute, and here there was a holy well or spring. Hence arose the name of Bridewell.
In 1087, ancient records relate, King William gave choice stones from his tower or castle, standing at the west end of the city, to Maurice, Bishop of London, for the repair of his cathedral church.
From time to time various rooms were added to the original structure, which seem chiefly to have been used for some state ceremonial or judicial purpose. Thus in the seventh year of King John, Walter de Crisping, the Justiciar, gave judgment here in an important lawsuit.
In 1522 the whole building was repaired for the reception of the famous Emperor Charles V., but that distinguished Sovereign actually stayed in the Black Friars, on the other side of the Fleet.
King Henry VIII. made use of Bridewell for the trial of his famous divorce case. Cardinal Campeggio was President of the Court, and in the end gave judgment in favour of Queen Catharine of Aragon. Yet, despite the Cardinal, Henry would have nothing more to do with Catharine, and at the same time took a dislike to Bridewell, which was allowed to fall into decay—in fact, nothing of the older building now remains. King Edward VI., just before his own death in 1553, granted the charter which converted Bridewell into a charitable institution, and after many vicissitudes a great work is still carried on at this establishment for the benefit of the poor of London. In May, 1552, Dr. Ridley, Bishop of London, wrote this striking letter to Sir William Cecil, Knight, and Secretary to the King:—
"Good Master Cecyl,—I must be suitor with you in our Master Christ's cause. I beseech you be good unto him. The matter is, Sir, that he hath been too, too long abroad, without lodging, in the streets of London, both hungry, naked and cold. There is a large wide empty house of the King's Majesty called Bridewell, which would wonderfully serve to lodge Christ in, if he might find friends at Court to procure in his cause."
Thus the philanthropic scheme was started, and brought to completion under the mayoralty of Alderman Sir George Barnes.
A View of the Savoy Palace from the River Thames.
Published by the Society of Antiquaries in 1750, from a plan by G. Virtue.
| AAA | The great building, now a barracks. |
| BB | Prison for the Savoy, and guards. |
| CCC | Church of St. Mary le Savoy. |
| D | Stairs to the waterside. |
| EFG | Churches of German Lutherans, French and German Calvinists. |
St. James's is the most important royal palace of London. For many a long year it has been most closely associated with our royal family, and the quaint towers and gateway looking up St. James's Street possess an antiquarian interest of quite an unique character. This palace, moreover, enshrines the memory of a greater number of famous events in the history of our land than any other domestic building situated in London, and for this reason is worthy of special attention.
Its history is as follows:—Before the Norman Conquest there was a hospital here dedicated to St. James, for fourteen maiden lepers. A hospital continued to exist throughout the middle ages, but when Henry VIII. became King he obtained this property by an exchange, and converted it, as Holinshed bears witness, into "a fair mansion and park" when he was married to Anne Boleyn. The letters "H. A." can still be traced on the chimney-piece of the presence chamber or tapestry room, as well as a few other memorials of those distant days. And what days they were! Queen Anne Boleyn going to St. James's in all the joyous splendour of a royal bride, and how soon afterwards meeting her cruel fate at the hands of the executioner! Henry VIII. seldom lived at St. James's Palace, perhaps on account of the weird reminiscences of Anne Boleyn, but it became the favourite residence of Queen Mary after her husband Philip II. returned to Spain, and here she died in utter isolation during the dull November days of the autumn of 1558. Thus the old palace is first associated with the sad story of two unhappy queens!
But brighter days were coming. Prince Henry, the eldest son of James I., settled here in 1610, and kept a brilliant and magnificent court, attached to which were nearly 300 salaried officials. Then in two short years he died, November 6, 1612. Then the palace was given to Charles, who afterwards ascended the throne in 1625, and much liked the place as a residence. It is closely associated with the stirring events of this romantic monarch's career. Here Charles II., James II., and the Princess Elizabeth were born, and here Marie de Medici, the mother of Queen Henrietta Maria, took refuge in 1638, and maintained a magnificent household for three years. It is said her pension amounted to £3,000 a month! Her residence within the royal palace increased the unpopularity of the King, whose arbitrary treatment of Parliament led to the ruinous Civil War. The noble House of Stuart is ever unfortunate all down the long page of history, and the doleful prognostications of the Sortes Vergilianæ, sought for by the King, proved but too true in the event.
We quote six lines of Dryden's translation from the sixth book of the Æneid, at the page at which the King by chance opened the book—
"Seek not to know, the ghost replied with tears,
The sorrows of thy sons in future years.
This youth, the blissful vision of a day,
Shall just be shewn on earth, and snatched away.
. . . . .
"Ah! couldst thou break through Fate's severe decree,
A new Marcellus shall arise in thee."
Dr. Wellwood says Lord Falkland tried to laugh the matter off, but the King was pensive.
Portion of an exact Survey of the Streets, Lanes, and Churches.
Comprehended by the order and directions of the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor 10th December, 1666.
The fortunes of war were against this very attractive but weak monarch, who was actually brought as a prisoner of the Parliament from Windsor Castle to his own Palace of St. James, there to await his trial on a charge of high treason in Westminster Hall!
Certain of his own subjects presumed to pass sentence of death upon their own Sovereign, and have become known to history as the regicides. Very pathetic is the story of the scenes which took place at St. James's on Sunday, January 28, 1649. A strong guard of parliamentary troops escorted King Charles from Whitehall to St. James's, and Juxon, the faithful Bishop of London, preached his last sermon to his beloved Sovereign from the words, "In the day when God shall judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ, according to my Gospel." His Majesty then received the Sacrament, and spent much time in private devotion. On the morrow he bade farewell to his dear children the Duke of Gloucester and the Princess Elizabeth, praying them to forgive his enemies, and not to grieve, for he was about to die a glorious death for the maintenance of the laws and liberties of the land and the true Protestant religion. Then he took the little Duke of Gloucester on his knees, saying, "Sweetheart, now they will cut off thy father's head," and the young prince looked very earnestly and steadfastly at the King, who bade him be loyal to his brothers Charles and James, and all the ancient family of Stuart. And thus they parted.
Afterwards His Majesty was taken from St. James's to the scaffold at Whitehall. There was enacted the most tragic scene connected with the entire history of the Royal Family of England. At the hands of Jacobite writers the highly-coloured narrative is like to induce tears of grief, but the Puritans love to dwell on the King's weaknesses and faults. Yet everyone must needs acknowledge the calm nobility and unwavering courage of the King's bearing and conduct.
"He nothing common did or mean
Upon that memorable scene,
But with his keener eye
The axe's edge did try;
Nor called the gods with vulgar spite
To vindicate his helpless right,
But bowed his comely head
Down, as upon a bed."
The great German historian Leopold von Ranke is rightly regarded as the best and most impartial authority on the history of Europe in the seventeenth century. This is what he says on the martyrdom of Charles I.:—
"The scaffold was erected on the spot where the kings were wont to show themselves to the people after their coronation. Standing beside the block at which he was to die, he was allowed once more to speak in public. He said that the war and its horrors were unjustly laid to his charge.... If at last he had been willing to give way to arbitrary power, and the change of the laws by the sword, he would not have been in this position: he was dying as the martyr of the people, passing from a perishable kingdom to an imperishable. He died in the faith of the Church of England, as he had received it from his father. Then bending to the block, he himself gave the sign for the axe to fall upon his neck. A moment, and the severed head was shown to the people, with the words: 'This is the head of a traitor.' All public places, the crossings of the streets, especially the entrances of the city, were occupied by soldiery on foot and on horseback. An incalculable multitude had, however, streamed to the spot. Of the King's words they heard nothing, but they were aware of their purport through the cautious and guarded yet positive language of their preachers. When they saw the severed head, they broke into a cry, universal and involuntary, in which the feelings of guilt and weakness were blended with terror—a sort of voice of nature, whose terrible impression those who heard it were never able to shake off."
These weighty words of Ranke are well worth quoting, as well as the conclusion of the section of his great book in which he sums up his estimate of Charles's claim to the title of martyr:
"There was certainly something of a martyr in him, if the man can be so called who values his own life less than the cause for which he is fighting, and in perishing himself saves it for the future."
The Prospect of Bridewell.
Published according to Act of Parliament, 1755, for Stow's Survey.
King Charles I., then, is fairly entitled to be called a martyr in the calm and unimpassioned judgment of the greatest historian of modern times in the learned Empire of Germany, who tests the royal claim by a clear and concise definition, framed without any regard to the passionate political feeling which distracted England in the days of the Stuarts.
And it was in the Palace of St. James that Charles I. passed the last terrible days of his earthly life.
On the Restoration, King Charles II. resided at Whitehall, and gave St. James's to his brother James, Duke of York. Here Queen Mary II. was born, and here she was married to William of Orange late in the evening on November 4, 1677. Here also Anne Hyde, Duchess of York, died in 1671, having lived many years more or less in seclusion in the old palace.
James afterwards married Mary of Modena as his second wife, and here was born, on June 10, 1688, Prince James Edward, better known as the Old Pretender, whose long life was spent in wandering and exile, in futile attempts to gain the Crown, in unsuccessful schemes and ruinous plots, until he and his children found rest within the peaceful walls of Rome.
Directly after he landed in England, King William III. came to St. James's, and resided here from time to time during his possession of the Crown, only towards the end of his reign allowing the Princess Anne to reside in this palace, where she first heard of King William's death. The bearer of the sad news was Dr. Burnet, Bishop of Salisbury.
Immediately on his arrival in England, George I., Elector of Hanover, came straight to St. James's just as King William III. had done. In his Reminiscences, Walpole gives this quaint anecdote:—
"This is a strange country," remarked the King. "The first morning after my arrival at St. James's, I looked out of the window, and saw a park with walks and a canal, which they told me were mine. The next day Lord Chetwynd, the ranger of my park, sent me a fine brace of carp out of my canal: and I was told I must give five guineas to Lord Chetwynd's servant for bringing me my own carp, out of my own canal, in my own park."
Many things seem to have surprised King George I. in his English dominions, and he really preferred Hanover, where he died in 1725.
George II. resided at St. James's when Prince of Wales, and here his beloved wife, Queen Caroline of Anspach, died on November 20, 1737. Four years previously her daughter Anne had here been married to the Prince of Orange. It now became customary to assign apartments to younger children of the Sovereign in various parts of the palace, which thus practically ceased to be in the King's own occupation. The state apartments are handsome, and contain many good portraits of royal personages. The Chapel Royal has a fine ceiling, carved and painted, erected in 1540, and is constantly used by royalty. George III. hardly ever missed the Sunday services when in London.
Of course the original palace covered more ground than is now the case, and included the site of Marlborough House and some adjacent gardens, now in private ownership. The German Chapel Royal, which now projects into the grounds of Marlborough House, was originally erected by Charles I. for the celebration of Roman Catholic worship for Queen Henrietta Maria, and at the time gave great offence to all the nobility and people of the land.
"Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis." Marlborough House was originally built by Sir Christopher Wren for the great Duke of Marlborough, on a portion of St. James's Park given by Queen Anne for that purpose. Here died the Duke, and his famous Duchess Sarah. The house was bought by the Crown for the Princess Charlotte in 1817, and was settled on the Prince of Wales in 1850. There are still a number of interesting pictures in the grand salon of the victories of the Duke of Marlborough by Laguerre. The garden covers the space formerly occupied by the Great Yard of old St. James's Palace.
Altogether, it is quite clear from the above brief account that St. James's is the most important of the royal palaces of London, and more closely connected than any other with the long history of English Royalty. From the days of Henry VIII. to the present time there has always been a close personal connection with the reigning Sovereign of the British Empire.
The Palace of Whitehall presents a long and strange history. Hubert de Burgh, Earl of Kent, Chief Minister of King Henry III., became possessed of the land by purchase from the monks of Westminster for 140 marks of silver and the annual tribute of a wax taper. Hubert bequeathed the property by his will to the Black Friars of Holborn, who sold it in 1248 to Walter de Grey, Archbishop of York, for his Grace's town residence.
When Cardinal Wolsey became possessed of the northern archiepiscopal See, he found York House too small for his taste, and he set to work to rebuild the greater part of this palace on a larger and more magnificent scale. On the completion of the works he took up his abode here with a household of 800 persons, and lived with more than regal splendour, from time to time entertaining the King himself to gorgeous banquets, followed by masked balls. At one of these grand entertainments they say King Henry first met Anne Boleyn. A chronicler says the Cardinal was "sweet as summer to all that sought him."
When the great Cardinal fell into disgrace, and the Duke of Suffolk came to Whitehall to bid him resign the Great Seal of England, his Eminence left his palace by the privy stair and "took barge" to Putney, and thence to Esher; and Henry VIII. at once took possession of the vacant property, and began to erect new buildings, a vast courtyard, tennis court, and picture gallery, and two great gateways, all of which are now totally destroyed. It was in this palace that he died, January 28, 1547.
During the reign of Queen Elizabeth, Whitehall was famous for its magnificent festivities, tournaments, and receptions of distinguished foreign princes. Especially was this the case in 1581, when the French commissioners came to urge the Queen's marriage with the Duke of Anjou. Here the Queen's corpse lay in state before the interment in March, 1603. James I. likewise entertained right royally at Whitehall, and here the Princess Elizabeth was married to the Elector Palatine on February 14, 1613. King James also employed that distinguished architect Inigo Jones to build the beautiful Banqueting House, which is all that now remains of Whitehall Palace, and is one of the finest architectural fragments in London. The proportions are most elegant, and the style perfect. Used as a chapel till 1890, it is now the United Service Museum, while the great painter Rubens decorated the ceiling for Charles I. in 1635.
The whole plan of Inigo Jones remained unfinished, but Charles I. lived in regal splendour in the palace, entertaining on the most liberal scale, and forming the famous collection of pictures dispersed by the Parliament. Here it was that the masque of Comus was acted before the King, and other masques from time to time. After Charles's martyrdom, Oliver Cromwell came to live at Whitehall, and died there September 3, 1658. On his restoration, in May, 1660, King Charles II. returned to Whitehall, and kept his court there in great splendour. Balls rather than masques were now the fashion, and Pepys and Evelyn have preserved full descriptions of these elegant and luxurious festivities, and all the gaiety, frivolity, and dissoluteness connected with them, and the manner of life at Charles's court. The King died in the palace on February 6, 1685, and was succeeded by his austere brother James, who, during his brief reign, set up a Roman Catholic chapel within the precincts of the royal habitation, from which he fled to France in 1688.
The Palace of Whitehall.
King William III. preferred other places of residence, and two fires—one in 1691, the other in 1698—destroyed the greater part of Whitehall, which was never rebuilt.
Buckingham Palace is now the principal residence in London of His Majesty King Edward VII. Though a fine pile of building it is hardly worthy of its position as the town residence of the mighty Sovereign of the greatest Empire of the world, situated in the largest city on the face of the globe.
King George III. purchased Buckingham Palace in 1761 from Sir Charles Sheffield for £21,000, and in 1775 it was settled upon Queen Charlotte. In the reign of George IV. it was rebuilt from designs by Nash; and in 1846, during the reign of Queen Victoria, the imposing eastern façade was erected from designs by Blore. The length is 360 feet, and the general effect is striking, though the architectural details are of little merit. In fact, it is a discredit to the nation that there is no London palace for the Sovereign which is worthy of comparison with the Royal Palace at Madrid, or the Papal Palace in Rome, though the reason for this peculiar fact is fully set forth in the historical sketch of the royal palaces already given. King Edward VII. was born here in 1841, and here drawing-rooms and levées are usually held. The white marble staircase is fine, and there are glorious portraits of Charles I. and Queen Henrietta Maria by Van Dyck, as well as Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort by Winterhalter. There is also a full-length portrait of George IV. by Lawrence in the State dining-room.
In the private apartments there are many interesting royal portraits, as well as a collection of presents from foreign princes. There is a lake of five acres in the gardens, and the whole estate comprises about fifty acres. There is a curious pavilion adorned with cleverly-painted scenes from Comus by famous English artists. The view from the east over St. James's Park towards the India Office is picturesque, and remarkably countrified for the heart of a great city. The lake in this park is certainly very pretty, and well stocked with various water-fowl. The Horse Guards, Admiralty, and other public offices at the eastern extremity of this park occupy the old site of the western side of the Palace of Whitehall.
Kensington Palace was the favourite abode of King William III. He purchased the property from the Earl of Nottingham, whose father had been Lord Chancellor, and employed Sir Christopher Wren to add a storey to the old house, and built anew the present south façade. Throughout his reign he spent much money in improving the place, and here his wife, Queen Mary II., died on December 28, 1694. In the same palace King William himself breathed his last breath on March 8, 1702.
Queen Anne lived principally at St. James's, the natural residence for the Sovereigns of Great Britain; but she took much interest in the proper upkeep of Kensington, and it was here that her husband died on October 20, 1708, and herself on August 1, 1714. Shortly before, she had placed the treasurer's wand in the hands of the Duke of Shrewsbury, saying, "For God's sake use it for the good of my people," and all the acts of her prosperous reign point to the real validity of the popular title given by common consent—the good Queen Anne.
She planted the trees on "Queen Anne's Mount," and gave gorgeous fêtes in the Royal Gardens, whose woodland scenery possesses a peculiar charm all its own. The noble groves and avenues of elm trees recall St. Cloud and St. Germain in the neighbourhood of Paris, and are quite exceptionally fine. Thus Matthew Arnold wrote:—
"In this lone open glade I lie,
Screened by deep boughs on either hand;
And at its end, to stay the eye,
Those black crowned, red-boled pine trees stand."
St. James's Palace.
And Chateaubriand declares:—
"C'est dans ce parc de Kensington que j'ai médité l'Essai historique: que, relisant le journal de mes courses d'outre mer, j'en ai tiré les amours d'Atala."
And Haydon says:—
"Here are some of the most poetical bits of tree and stump, and sunny brown and green glens and tawny earth."
George II. died here very suddenly on October 25, 1760, but the Sovereigns of the House of Hanover chiefly made use of the place by assigning apartments therein to their younger children and near relatives. Here it was that Edward Duke of Kent lived with his wife Victoria of Saxe-Coburg, and here their only daughter, the renowned Queen Victoria, was born, May 24, 1819, and here she resided till her accession to the throne in 1837.
Kensington Palace, then, is chiefly celebrated for its associations with William III. and Queen Victoria. In the brief account of the royal palaces here given, it will be seen that none of the sites, with the exception of St. James's, remained for any long period of time the actual residence of the Sovereign, while three—Westminster, Bridewell, and the Savoy—had passed out of royal hands for residential purposes before the Reformation of religion was completed. Another curious fact relates to the origin of the title to these sites, inasmuch as three of these estates were obtained from some ecclesiastical corporation, as the Archbishop of York, or the Hospital of St. James, though Buckingham Palace was bought from Sir Charles Sheffield, and Kensington from the Earl of Nottingham.
No account of the palaces of London can be regarded as complete which omits to mention Lambeth. For more than 700 years the Archbishops of Canterbury have resided at this beautiful abode, intensely interesting from its close association with all the most stirring events in the long history of England. The estate was obtained by Archbishop Baldwin in the year 1197 by exchange for some lands in Kent with Glanville, Bishop of Rochester. In Saxon times Goda, the sister of King Edward the Confessor, had bestowed this property upon the Bishopric of Rochester; so that it has been continuously in the hands of the Church for near 900 years. The fine red-brick gateway with white stone dressings, standing close to the tower of Lambeth Church, is very imposing as seen from the road, and was built by Archbishop Cardinal Moreton in 1490. In the Middle Ages it was the custom to give a farthing loaf twice a week to the poor of London at this gateway, and as many as 4,000 were accustomed to partake of the archiepiscopal gift. Within the gateway is the outer courtyard of the palace, and at the further end, towards the river Thames, rises the picturesque Lollard's tower, built between 1434 and 1445 by that famous ecclesiastical statesman Archbishop Chicheley, founder of All Souls' College, Oxford. The quaint winding staircase, made of rough slabs of unplaned oak, is exactly as it was in Chicheley's time. In this tower is the famous chamber, entirely of oaken boards, called the Lollards' prison. It is 13 feet long, 12 feet broad, and 8 feet high, and eight iron rings remain to which prisoners were fastened. The door has a lock of wood, fastened with pegs of wood, and may be a relic of the older palace of Archbishop Sudbury. On the south side of the outer court stands the hall built by Archbishop Juxon during the opening years of Charles II.'s reign, with a fine timber roof, and Juxon's arms over the door leading into the palace. This Jacobean hall is now used as the library, and contains many precious manuscripts of priceless value, including the Dictyes and Sayings of the Philosophers, translated by Lord Rivers, in which is found a miniature illumination of the Earl presenting Caxton on his knees to Edward IV., who is supported by Elizabeth Woodville and her son Edward V. This manuscript contains the only known portrait of the latter monarch.
St. James's Palace, from Pall Mall and from the Park.
An earlier hall had been built on the same site by Archbishop Boniface in 1244.
From the library we pass by a flight of stairs to the guard room, now used as the dining hall. The chief feature is the excellent series of oil portraits of the occupants of the primatial See of Canterbury, beginning in the year 1504. The mere mention of the principal names recalls prominent events in our national history.
There is Warham painted by Holbein. He was also Lord Chancellor, and the last of the mediæval episcopate. There is Cranmer, burnt at Oxford, March 21, 1555. There is Cardinal Pole, the cousin and favourite of Queen Mary. There is Matthew Parker, the friend of Queen Elizabeth, well skilled in learning and a great collector of manuscripts, now for the most part in the library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. There is William Laud, painted by Van Dyck, the favourite Counsellor and Adviser of Charles I. At the age of 71 he was beheaded by order of the House of Commons—an act of vengeance, not of justice. There is William Juxon, who stood by Charles I. on the scaffold, and heard the ill-fated King utter his last word on earth, "Remember." But we cannot even briefly recount all the famous portraits to be found at Lambeth. The above selection must suffice.
The chapel, also, is a building of singular interest. Beneath is an ancient crypt said to have been erected by Archbishop Herbert Fitzwalter, while the chapel itself was built by Archbishop Boniface of Savoy between 1249 and 1270. The lancet windows are elegant, and were filled with stained glass by Archbishop Laud, all of which was duly broken to pieces during the Commonwealth. The supposed Popish character of this glass was made an article of impeachment against Laud at the trial at which he was sentenced to death. Here the majority of the archbishops have been consecrated since the reign of King Henry III. Archbishop Parker was both consecrated and also buried in the chapel, but his tomb was desecrated and his bones scattered by Scot and Hardyng, who possessed the palace under Oliver Cromwell. On the restoration they were re-interred by Sir William Dugdale. At the west end is a beautiful Gothic confessional, high up on the wall, erected by Archbishop Chicheley. Archbishop Laud presented the screen, and Archbishop Tait restored the whole of this sacred edifice, which measures 12 feet by 25 feet. Formerly the archbishops lived in great state. Thus, Cranmer's household comprised a treasurer, comptroller, steward, garnator, clerk of the kitchen, caterer, clerk of the spicery, yeoman of the ewery, bakers, pantlers, yeoman of the horse, yeoman ushers, besides numerous other less important officials.
Cardinal Pole possessed a patent from Queen Mary, authorising a household of 100 servants. The modern part of the palace was built by Archbishop Howley in the Tudor style. He held the See from 1828 to 1848, and was the last prelate to maintain the archiepiscopal state of the olden time.
[ELIZABETHAN LONDON]
By T. Fairman Ordish, F.S.A.
The leading feature of Elizabethan London was that it was a great port. William Camden, writing in his Britannia, remarked that the Thames, by its safe and deep channel, was able to entertain the greatest ships in existence, daily bringing in so great riches from all parts "that it striveth at this day with the Mart-townes of Christendome for the second prise, and affoordeth a most sure and beautiful Roade for shipping" (Holland's translation). Below the great bridge, one of the wonders of Europe, we see this shipping crowding the river in the maps and views of London belonging to the reign of Queen Elizabeth. The Tower and the bridge were the city's defences against attack by water. Near the Tower was the Custom House, where peaceful commerce paid its dues; and between the Custom House and the bridge was the great wharf of Billingsgate, where goods were landed for distribution. Near the centre of the bridge was a drawbridge, which admitted vessels to another great wharf, Queenhithe, at a point midway between London Bridge and Blackfriars. Between the bridge and Queenhithe was the Steelyard, the domain of the merchants of the Hanseatic League. Along the river front were numerous other wharves, where barges and lighters unloaded goods which they brought from the ships in the road, or from the upper reaches of the Thames. For the river was the great highway of London. It answered the needs of commerce, and it furnished the chief means of transit. The passenger traffic of Elizabethan London was carried on principally by means of rowing-boats. A passenger landed at the point nearest to his destination, and then walked; or a servant waited for him with a saddle-horse. The streets were too narrow for coaches, except in two or three main arteries.
The characteristic of present-day London, at which all foreigners most marvel, is the amount of traffic in the streets. In Elizabethan London this characteristic existed in the chief highway—the Thames. The passenger-boats were generally described as "wherries," and they were likened by Elizabethan travellers to the gondolas of Venice; for instance, by Coryat, in his Crudities, who thought the playhouses of Venice very beggarly compared with those of London, but admired the gondoliers, because they were "altogether as swift as our rowers about London." The maps of the period reveal the extraordinary number of "stairs" for landing passengers along both banks of the river, besides the numerous wharves for goods. John Stow, the author of the Survey of London, published first in 1598, and again in a second edition in 1603, describes the traffic on the river. "By the Thames," he says, "all kinds of merchandise be easily conveyed to London, the principal storehouse and staple of all commodities within this realm. So that, omitting to speak of great ships and other vessels of burthen, there pertaineth to the cities of London, Westminster, and borough of Southwark, above the number, as is supposed, of 2,000 wherries and other small boats, whereby 3,000 poor men at the least be set on work and maintained." Many of these watermen were old sailors, who had sailed and fought under Drake. The Armada deliverance was recalled by Drake's ship, which lay in the river below the bridge. The voyage of the Earl of Essex to Spain, the expeditions to Ireland and to the Low Countries, formed the staple of the gossip of these old sailors who found employment in the chief means of locomotion in Elizabethan London.
There was only the single bridge, but there were several ferries. The principal ferry was from Blackfriars and the Fleet river to a point opposite on the Surrey side, called Paris Garden stairs—nearly in a line with the present Blackfriars Bridge. At Westminster was another, from the Horseferry Road to a point a little west of Lambeth Palace—almost in the line of the present Lambeth Bridge. The river was fordable at low tide at this point; horses crossed here—whence the name Horseferry—and possibly other cattle, when the tide was unusually low.
The sea is the home of piety. Coast towns, ports, and havens, reached after voyages of peril, are invariably notable for their places of worship, and for customs which speak touchingly—like the blessing of fishermen's nets, for instance—of lives spent in uncertainty and danger. Thus, the leading characteristic of Elizabethan London being its association with the sea and its dependence on the river, we find that its next most striking characteristic was the extraordinary number of churches it contained. The great cathedral predominated more pronouncedly than its modern successor. From the hill on which it was based it reared its vast bulk; its great spire ascended the heavens, and the multitude of church towers and spires and belfries throughout the city seemed to follow it. The houses were small, the streets were narrow; but to envisage the city from the river, or from the Surrey side, was to have the eye led upwards from point to point to the summit of St. Paul's. The dignity and piety of London were thus expressed, in contradiction to human foibles and failings so conspicuous in Elizabethan drama. The spire of St. Paul's was destroyed by lightning early in the reign of Elizabeth; and the historian may see much significance in the fact that it was not rebuilt, even in thanksgiving and praise for the deliverance from the Great Armada. The piety of London dwindled until it flamed forth anew in the time of the Puritan revolt.
The bridge was carried on nineteen arches. It had a defensive gate at the Southwark end, and another gateway at the northern end. In the centre was a beautiful chapel, dedicated to Thomas à Becket, and known as St. Thomas of the Bridge. Houses were built on the bridge, mostly shops with overhanging signs, as in the streets of the city. Booksellers and haberdashers predominated, but other trades were carried on also. After the chapel, the most conspicuous feature of the bridge was "Nonesuch House," so called to express the wonder that it was constructed in Holland entirely of wood, brought over the water piece by piece, and put together on the bridge by dovetailing and pegs, without the use of a single metal nail. Adjoining the northern gateway was an engine for raising water by means of a great wheel operated by the tide. Near the Southwark end were corn-mills, worked on the same principle, below the last two arches of the bridge. The gateway at the Southwark end, so well shown in Visscher's view of London, was finished in 1579, and the traitors' heads, which formerly surmounted a tower by the drawbridge, were transferred to it. Travellers from the south received this grim salutation as they approached the bridge, which led into the city; and when they glanced across the river, the Tower frowned upon them, and the Traitors' Gateway, like teeth in an open mouth, deepened the effect of warning and menace.
But these terrors loomed darkling in the background for the most part. They belonged rather to the time when the sovereign's palaces at Westminster and at the Tower seemed to hold London in a grip. The palace at Westminster now languished in desuetude; the Tower was a State prison, and—with some ironical intent, perhaps—also the abode of the royal beasts, lions, tigers, leopards, and other captives. The Queen passed in her royal barge down the river with ceremonious pageantry from her palace of Whitehall; the drawbridge raised, the floating court passed the Tower as with lofty indifference on its way to "Placentia," Her Majesty's palace at Greenwich. Out of the silence of history a record speaks like a voice, and tells us that here, in 1594, Shakespeare and his fellows performed at least two comedies or interludes before Her Majesty, and we know even the amounts that were paid them for their services.
Plan of London in the time of Queen Elizabeth (1563).
In the Survey of John Stow we have three separable elements: the archæology and history of London, Stow's youthful recollections of London in the time of Henry the Eighth, and Stow's description of the great change which came over London after the dissolution of the religious houses, and continued in process throughout his lifetime. The mediæval conditions were not remote. He could remember when London was clearly defined by the wall, like a girdle, of which the Tower was the knot. No heroic change had befallen; the wall had not been cast down into its accompanying fosse to form a ring-street, as was done when Vienna was transformed from the mediæval state. London had simply filled up the ditch with its refuse; its buildings had simply swarmed over the wall and across the dike; shapeless and haphazard suburbs had grown up, till the surrounding villages became connected with the city. Even more grievous, in the estimation of Stow, was the change which he had witnessed within the city itself. The feudal lords had departed, and built themselves mansions outside the city. The precincts of the dissolved religious establishments had been converted into residential quarters, and a large proportion of the old monastic gardens had been built upon. The outlines of society had become blurred. Formerly, the noble, the priest, and the citizen were the defined social strata. Around each of these was grouped the rest of the social units in positions of dependence. A new type of denizen had arisen, belonging to none of the old categories—the typical Elizabethan Londoner.
The outward aspect of Elizabethan London reflected this social change. On the south of the city, along the line of Thames Street, the wall had entirely disappeared. On the east and west it was in decay, and was becoming absorbed in fresh buildings. Only on the north side of the city, where it had been re-edified as late as 1474, did the wall suggest its uses for defence. In the map of Agas, executed early in the reign of Elizabeth, this portion of the wall, with its defensive towers and bastions, appears singularly well preserved. Thus the condition of the wall suggested the passing of the old and the coming of the new order. The gates which formerly defended the city, where the chief roadways pierced the wall, still remained as monuments, and they were admirably adapted to the purpose of civic pageantry and ceremonial shows. Indeed, the gateway on the Oxford road was rebuilt in 1586, and called Newgate, "from the newness thereof," and it was the "fairest" of all the gates of London. It is reckoned that this was the year that Shakespeare came to London from Stratford-on-Avon; and the assumption is generally allowed that he entered the city by Newgate, which would be his direct road. A new gate, of an artistic and ornamental character, set in the ancient wall, was a sign and a symbol of the new conditions in London, of which Shakespeare himself was destined to become the chief result.
With the characteristics of London as a great mart and port is included the foreign elements in its population. In Lombard Street the merchants of Lombardy from early mediæval times had performed the operations of banking and foreign exchange; and around them were assembled the English merchants of all qualities and degrees. Business was conducted in the open street, and merchants merely adjourned into the adjoining houses to seal their bonds and make their formal settlements. Henry VIII. tried to induce the city to make use of the great building of Leadenhall for this purpose; but the innovation was resisted, and Lombard Street continued to be the burse of London till long after the accession of Elizabeth. The name of Galley Key remained in Tower Street ward to mark the spot on the river bank "where the galleys of Italy and other parts did discharge their wines and merchandises brought to this city." The men of the galleys lived as a colony by themselves in Mincing Lane; the street leading to their purlieus was called, indifferently, Galley Row and Petit Wales. Here was a great house, the official territorium of the Principality. The original of Shakespeare's "Fluellen" may very possibly have been a denizen of this quarter.
Above the bridge, in Thames Street, was the territorium of the Hanse merchants, alluded to by Stow as "the merchants of Almaine," and by Camden as "the Easterlings or Dutch merchants of the Steelyard." Their position in the city was one of great importance: the export trade of the country in woollen goods was chiefly in their hands, and they had their own Guildhall in Upper Thames Street, called the Gilda Teutonicorum. The special privileges accorded to this foreign commercial community carried the obligation to maintain Bishopsgate in repair, and "to defend it at all times of danger and extremity." When the house of the Augustine Friars, Old Broad Street, was dissolved, and its extensive gardens became cut up and built upon, the Dutch colony settled there in residence, and the church of Austin Friars was specially assigned to them by Edward VI. Towards the end of the reign of Elizabeth the privileges of the Hanse merchants were revoked, and their guildhall was confiscated to the use of the navy. But the Dutch element continued as a part of the commercial life of the city, and the church of Austin Friars is still the "church of the Dutch nation in London."
West of the Steelyard was the Vintry. Here the merchants of Bordeaux had been licensed to build their warehouses of stone, at the rear of a great wharf, on which were erected cranes for unloading the lighters and other boats which brought the casks from the ships below bridge. The trade of these foreign merchants gave the name of Vintry Ward to one of the divisions of the city. In Bishopsgate Ward, near the church of St. Botolph, was a French colony, their purlieus forming a quadrant, called Petty France.
Elizabethan London was more cosmopolitan than many European capitals. In Lombard Street the merchants of Germany, France, and Italy were conspicuously differentiated by the varieties of costume. On the site of the present Royal Exchange, Sir Thomas Gresham laid the first stone of his great Bourse in 1566; the design was in imitation of the Bourse at Antwerp; the materials of its construction were imported from Flanders; the architect and builder was a Fleming, named Henryke. The opening of this building by Queen Elizabeth in state in January, 1571, when Her Majesty commanded it to be proclaimed by herald and trumpet that the Bourse should be called The Royal Exchange from that time henceforth, is a familiar story, because it is, in fact, one of the most striking and significant events in the history of London. The trumpet of that herald, on January 23rd, 1571, announced a new era.
The building was a quadrangle, enclosing an open space. The sides formed a cloister or sheltered walk; above this was a corridor, or walk, called "the pawn," with stalls or shops, like the Burlington Arcade of the present day; above this again was a tier of rooms. The great bell-tower stood on the Cornhill front; the bell was rung at noon and at six in the evening. On the north side, looking towards St. Margaret's, Lothbury, was a tall Corinthian column. Both tower and column were surmounted by a grasshopper—the Gresham crest. The inscription on the façade of the building was in French, German, and Italian. The motley scene of Lombard Street had been transferred to the Royal Exchange. The merchants of Amsterdam, of Antwerp, of Hamburg, of Paris, of Bordeaux, of Venice and Vienna, distinguishable to the eye by the dress of the nations they represented, and to the ear by the differences of language, conducted their exchanges with English merchants, and with each other, in this replica of the Bourse of Antwerp, the rialto of Elizabethan London.[1]
Cheapside was called West Cheap in Elizabethan London, in contradistinction to East Cheap, famous for ever as the scene of the humours of "Dame Quickly" and "Falstaff." The change in West Cheap since the mediæval period was chiefly at the eastern end, on the north side. Here a large space opposite the church of St. Mary-le-Bow was formerly kept clear of building, although booths and stalls for market purposes occupied the ground temporarily. The space was otherwise reserved for the mediæval jousts, tournaments, and other civic pageantry. The site of Mercers' Hall was occupied by the Militia Hospitalis, called, after Thomas à Becket, St. Thomas of Acon. After the Dissolution this establishment was granted by Henry to the Mercers' Company, who adapted the existing buildings to the purposes of their hall, one of the principal features of Cheap in Elizabethan times. The district eastward of Mercers' Hall had become filled up with building, and the making of Cheap as a thoroughfare was now complete. The original road westward was from the top of New Fish Street, by East Cheap, Candlewick or Cannon Street, past London Stone (probably the Roman Milliarium), along Budge Row and Watling Street, to the site of St. Paul's, where it is conjectured a temple of Diana stood in Roman times. But Cheap, or West Cheap, was the chief traffic way westward in Elizabethan London; it was filled with shops and warehouses, a thriving business centre, the pride of the city. The name of "Cheap" was derived from the market, and several of the streets leading into it yet bear names which in Elizabethan times were descriptive of the trades there carried on. Thus the Poultry was the poulterers' market; ironmongers had their shops in Ironmonger Lane, as formerly they had their stalls in the same area; in Milk Street were the dairies; and towards the west end of Cheap was Bread Street, the market of the bakers, and Friday Street, where fishmongers predominated. Lying between these two streets, with frontages in both, was the Mermaid Tavern, the chief resort of "the breed of excellent and choice wits," included by Camden among the glories of Elizabethan London. Stow does not refer to the Mermaid by name, but possibly he had it in mind when he wrote the following passage: "Bread Street, so called of bread sold there, as I said, is now wholly inhabited by rich merchants; and divers fair inns be there, for good receipt of carriers and other travellers to the city." The trades kept themselves in their special localities, although they did not always give the name to the street they occupied. Thus, to return to the eastern end of Cheap, there was Bucklersbury, where the pepperers or grocers were located, having given up their former quarters in Sopars' Lane to the cordwainers and curriers. With the grocers were mingled apothecaries and herbalists; and hence the protest of Falstaff, in the Merry Wives of Windsor, that he was not "like a many of these lisping hawthorn-buds, that come like women in men's apparel, and smell like Bucklesbury in simple time." In the midst of Cheap, at a point between Mercers' Hall and Old Jewry, opposite the end of Bucklersbury, was the water conduit—in the words of Stow, "The great conduit of sweet water, conveyed by pipes of lead underground from Paddington for the service of this city, castellated with stone, and cisterned in lead." Around the conduit stood the great jars used by the water-carriers to convey the water to the houses. The water-carrier, as a type of Elizabethan London, is preserved by Ben Jonson in the character of Cob in Every Man in his Humour. Going westward from the Conduit, another object stood out in the roadway—the Standard, a tall pillar at which the public executions of the city jurisdiction took place. Still further west, in the midst of Cheap, stood the Eleanor Cross, one of the most beautiful monuments in London at this time.
The Guildhall stood where it stands to-day, accessible from Cheap by Ironmonger Lane and St. Lawrence Lane. Only the walls and the crypt of the original building remain; but the features of this great civic establishment, as well as its sumptuous character and beautiful adornments, were practically the same in the days of Gresham as at the present time. Stow describes the stately porch entering the great hall, the paving of Purbeck marble, the coloured glass windows, and, alas! the library which had been "borrowed" by the Protector Somerset in the preceding reign. Near the Guildhall was the church of St. Mary Aldermanbury, the predecessor of the existing edifice. In this parish dwelt Hemmings and Condell, "fellows" of Shakespeare—that is to say, players of his company, whom he remembered in his will. These men conferred a benefit on all future ages by collecting the poet's plays, seven years after his death, and publishing them in that folio edition which is one of the most treasured volumes in the world. In the churchyard a monument to their memory was erected in 1896. It is surmounted by a bust of the poet, who looks forth serenely greeting the passer-by from beneath the shade of trees in this quiet old churchyard in modern London.
To return to Cheap, it remains to speak of a feature which attracted Queen Elizabeth, and was, indeed, one of the marvels of London. Here are the ipsissima verba of Stow's contemporary description:
"Next to be noted, the most beautiful frame of fair houses and shops that be within the walls of London, or elsewhere in England, commonly called Goldsmiths' Row, betwixt Bread Street end and the cross in Cheap ... the same was built by Thomas Wood, goldsmith, one of the sheriffs of London, in the year 1491. It containeth in number ten fair dwelling-houses and fourteen shops, all in one frame, uniformly built four stories high, beautified towards the street with the Goldsmiths' arms and the likeness of woodmen, in memory of his name, riding on monstrous beasts, all which is cast in lead, richly painted over and gilt. These he gave to the goldsmiths, with stocks of money, to be lent to young men having those shops. This said front was again new painted and gilt over in the year 1594; Sir Richard Martin being then mayor, and keeping his mayoralty in one of them."
Beyond Goldsmiths' Row was the old Change; the name and the street both still exist. Beyond old Change were seven shops; then St. Augustine's Gate, leading into St. Paul's Churchyard; and then came Paternoster Row. Between Paternoster Row and Newgate Street stood the Church of St. Michael-le-Querne, stretching out into the middle of Cheap, where the statue of Sir Robert Peel now stands. Stretching out from the east end of the church, still further into the street, was a water conduit, which supplied all the neighbourhood hereabout, called "The Little Conduit," not because it was little, but to distinguish it from the great conduit at the other end of Cheap.
We are concerned in this place not with the history of old St. Paul's, nor with the technique of its architecture, but with the great cathedral as a religious and social institution, the centre of Elizabethan London. Here the streams of life were gathered, and hence they radiated. It was the official place of worship of the Corporation; the merchants of the city followed. The monarch on special occasions attended the services; the nobility followed the royal example. The typical Elizabethan made the middle aisle his promenade, where he displayed the finery of his attire and the elegance of his deportment. The satirists found a grand opportunity in the humours of Paul's Walk; but the effect of the cathedral is not to be derived from such allusions in the literature of the time. All classes were attracted by the beautiful organ and the anthems so exquisitely sung by the choir. The impressive size and noble proportions of the building, the soaring height of the nave, the mystery of the open tower, where the ascending vision became lost in gathering obscurity, and where the chords from the organ died away; these spiritual associations, these appeals to the imagination, were uplifting influences so powerful that the vanities of Paul's Walk were negligible by comparison. As with the gargoyle on the outer walls, the prevailing effect was so sublime, that it was merely heightened by this element of the grotesque.[2]
The cathedral stood in the midst of a churchyard. In the mediæval period this was enclosed by a wall. In the reign of Elizabeth the wall still existed, but, as Stow observes, "Now on both sides, to wit, within and without, it be hidden with dwelling-houses." In 1561 the great steeple was struck by lightning and destroyed by fire, but the tower from which the spire arose remained. The tower was 260 feet high, and the height of the spire was the same, so that the pinnacle was 520 feet from the base.[3] Surmounting the pinnacle, in this earlier portion of Elizabeth's reign, was a weathercock, an object of curiosity to which Stow devotes a minute description. In the midst of the churchyard stood Paul's Cross—"a pulpit cross of timber, mounted upon steps of stone and covered with lead, in which are sermons preached every Sunday in the forenoon." Many of the monastic features of the establishment had disappeared; others were transformed and adapted to other uses. The great central fabric remained, and the school flourished—"Paul's School," in the east part of the churchyard, endowed by Dean Colet in 1512, and rebuilt in the later years of Elizabeth, where one hundred and fifty-three poor men's children were given a free education under a master, an usher, and a chaplain.
Newgate Street, Cheapside, Cornhill, Leadenhall, and Aldgate formed (as they do still) nearly a straight line, east and west. From this line to the wall on the north, in Plantagenet and early Tudor times, the city was largely composed of open spaces: chiefly the domains of religious houses; while south of the dividing line to the river the ground was thickly built over. After the Dissolution the transformation of the northern area began.
Considerable building took place in the reign of Edward VI.; but at the time of Elizabeth's accession the generally open character of this area, as compared with the more southerly part of the city, still subsisted. The increase of population, however, due very largely to people who flocked to London from all parts of the country, led to rapid building, which produced the Queen's famous proclamation to stay its further progress. To evade the ordinance, and to meet the ever-increasing demand, large houses were converted into tenements, and a vast number of people were thus accommodated who lived chiefly out-of-doors and took their meals in the taverns, inns, and ordinaries which abounded in all parts of the city. The pressure of demand continued, and the open spaces became gradually built over. The Queen and her government, aghast at the incessant tide of increase, in terror of the plague, recognised the futility of further prohibition, and avoided communication with the city as much as possible. At the slightest hint of plague Her Majesty would start off on one of her Progresses, or betake herself to Richmond, to Hampton Court, or to Greenwich.
Some of these transformations of ancient monastic purlieus may be briefly instanced. Within Newgate was the house and precinct of the Grey Friars. After the Dissolution the whole precinct was presented by Henry to the citizens of London, and here Edward VI. founded the school for poor fatherless children, which became famous as Christ's Hospital, "the Bluecoat school."
Let a short passage from Stow describe this change from the old order to the new:
"In the year 1552 began the repairing of the Greyfriars house for the poor fatherless children; and in the month of November the children were taken into the same, to the number of almost four hundred. On Christmas Day, in the afternoon, while the Lord Mayor and Aldermen rode to Paules, the children of Christ's Hospital stood from St. Lawrence Lane end in Cheape towards Paules, all in one livery of russet cotton, three hundred and forty in number; and in Easter next, they were in blue at the Spittle, and so have continued ever since."
The Greyfriars or Bluecoat school was one of the largest buildings in London. Its demesne extended to the city wall, in which there was a gate communicating with the grounds of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, the famous foundation of Rahere. The wall ran northward from the New Gate, the ground between the school and the wall on that side had been built over. There was a continuous line of building along Newgate Street to St. Martin's le Grand. The shambles or meat market occupied the centre of the street, called St. Nicholas Shambles, from a church which had been demolished since the Reformation.
From Newgate Street and the top of Cheapside to St. Anne's Lane was formerly the territory of the Collegiate Church and Sanctuary of St. Martin's le Grand. The college was dismantled after the edict of dissolution, but the sanctuary remained.
Some of the collegiate buildings had been converted into tenements, and other houses had been erected. These were occupied by "strangers born"—i.e., denizens who were not born Londoners—although within the walls the civic jurisdiction did not extend over this territory. Certain trades were carried on here outside the regulated industry of the city—e.g., tailoring and lace-making. The district became one of the resorts of the Elizabethan ruffler; and under the ægis of the ancient right of sanctuary a kind of Alsatia came into existence, the scene of many exciting episodes when debtors and fugitives from justice evaded their pursuers, and succeeded in reaching these precincts.
In Broad Street the ancient glory of the Augustine Friars was still a memory, and much of their spacious domain had been divided into gardens. The beautiful church remained, but the spire was becoming ruinous from neglect. Stow described the gardens, the gates of the precinct, and the great house which had been built here by William Paulet, first Marquis of Winchester, Lord Treasurer of England, "in place of Augustine friar's house, cloister, gardens, etc." There is an admirable irony in the recital of Stow at this point:
"The friars church he pulled not down, but the west end thereof, inclosed from the steeple and choir, was in the year 1550 granted to the Dutch nation in London, to be their preaching place: the other part—namely, the steeple, choir, and side aisles to the choir adjoining—he reserved to household uses, as for stowage of corn, coal and other things; his son and heir, Marquis of Winchester, sold the monuments of noblemen there buried in great number, the paving stone and whatsoever (which cost many thousands) for one hundred pounds, and in place thereof made fair stabling for horses. He caused the lead to be taken from the roofs, and laid tile in place thereof; which exchange proved not so profitable as he looked for, but rather to his disadvantage."
Between Broad Street and Bishopsgate Street the space was chiefly composed of gardens. One of the houses fronting Bishopsgate Street was the residence of Sir Thomas Gresham (perhaps his house in Lombard Street was reserved for business purposes).
On the opposite side of Bishopsgate Street was Crosby Hall and the precinct of the dissolved nunnery of St. Helen, extending towards St. Mary Axe and the church of St. Andrew Undershaft. At the further end of St. Mary Axe was the "Papye," a building which had been a hospital for poor priests before the Reformation. In the year 1598 Shakespeare was living in the St. Helen's precinct, within the shadow of Crosby Hall, and John Stow, in his home near the church of St. Andrew Undershaft, had just corrected the proofs of the first edition of his Survey of London. Stow tells us about Gresham's House and about Crosby Hall. He tells us that Sir Francis Walsingham, the Secretary of State, resided at the Papye. He describes the church of St. Andrew Undershaft, where his own monument may be seen at the present day; he describes, too, the ancient church of the nunnery of St. Helen, in which a memorial window now commemorates Shakespeare. But he failed to mention the fact, which has since been recovered from the subsidy-roll in the Record Office, that William Shakespeare was a denizen of the precinct in 1598. Had Shakespeare built a water conduit in the neighbourhood, or endowed an almshouse, he might have been celebrated in the pages of John Stow.
They were neighbours, and may have been acquainted. The district had been familiar to Stow from childhood, and he may have entertained the poet as he entertains us in his Survey with recollections of the changes he had witnessed in his long lifetime. Describing Tower Hill, he recalls the abbey of nuns of the order of St. Clare, called the Minories, and after giving the facts of its history, proceeds:
"In place of this house of nuns is now built divers fair and large storehouses for armour and habiliments of war, with divers workhouses serving to the same purpose: there is a small parish church for inhabitants of the close, called St. Trinities. Near adjoining to this abbey, on the south side thereof, was sometime a farm belonging to the said nunnery; at the which farm I, myself, in my youth, have fetched many a half-penny worth of milk, and never had less than three ale pints for a half-penny in the summer, nor less than one ale quart for a half-penny in the winter, always hot from the kine, as the same was milked and strained. One Trolop, and afterwards Goodman, were the farmers there, and had thirty or forty kine to the pail. Goodman's son being heir to his father's purchase, let out the ground, first for grazing of horses, and then for garden-plots, and lived like a gentleman thereby."
Here we have the source of the name Goodman's Fields, a point of some interest for us; but how vastly more interesting to have rambled with Stow in Elizabethan London, listening to such stories of the old order which had passed, giving place to the new!
We have strayed outside the wall, but not far. This road between Aldgate and the Postern Gate by the Tower, running parallel with the wall, is called the Minories, after the nunnery. Setting our faces towards Aldgate, to retrace our steps, we have the store-houses for armour and habiliments of war on our right; the wide ditch on our left has been filled up, and partly enclosed for cultivation. There are trees, and cows browsing, although the farm which Stow remembered no longer existed. Before us, just outside Aldgate, is the church of St. Buttolph, with its massive tower, standing in a spacious churchyard. Owing to the extensive building and development which had taken place outside the wall since the Reformation, it had been necessary to construct lofts and galleries in this church to accommodate the parishioners. At Aldgate the line of the wall turns westward towards Bishopsgate. Parallel to it a road has been made along the bank of the ditch, and leads into Bishopsgate Street. This is Houndsditch. The houses stand thickly along one side of the way looking towards the wall; the ditch has been filled up, and the wide surface is used for cattle pens or milking stalls.
We will not go along Houndsditch, but turning sharply to the left from St. Buttolph's we pass through Aldgate. In doing so we immediately find ourselves in the midst of the remains of the great priory of Holy Trinity. The road leads southward into Fenchurch Street, branching off on the west into Leadenhall Street. At the junction of these streets stood the hospitium of the priory. Between Leadenhall Street and the city wall, from Aldgate nearly up to St. Andrew Undershaft, lies the ground-plan of the establishment of the Canons Regular, known as Christchurch, or the priory of Holy Trinity, the grandest of all the monastic institutions in Middlesex except Westminster. The heads of the establishment were aldermen of the City of London, representing the Portsoken Ward.
"These priors have sitten and ridden amongst the aldermen of London, in livery like unto them, saving that his habit was in shape of a spiritual person, as I, myself, have seen in my childhood; at which time the prior kept a most bountiful house of meat and drink, both for rich and poor, as well within the house as at the gates, to all comers, according to their estates" (Stow).
In 1531 the King took possession of Christchurch; the canons were sent to other houses of the same order—St. Bartholomew the Great, Smithfield; St. Mary Overies, Southwark; and St. Mary Spital—"and the priory, with the appurtenances, King Henry gave to Sir Thomas Audley, newly knighted, and after made Lord Chancellor" (Stow). So extensive and so solid was the mass of building that Audley was at a loss to get the space cleared for the new house he wished to build here. He offered the great church of the priory to any one who would take it down and cart away the materials. But as this offer met with no response, Audley had to undertake the destruction himself. Stow could remember how the workmen employed on this work, "with great labour, beginning at the top"—the tower had pinnacles at each corner like the towers at St. Saviour's and St. Sepulchre's—"loosed stone from stone, and threw them down, whereby the most part of them were broken, and few remained whole; and those were sold very cheap, for all the buildings then made about the city were of brick and timber. At that time any man in the city might have a cart-load of hard stone for paving brought to his door for sixpence or sevenpence, with the carriage." Thus, in place of the priory and its noble church, was built the residence of Thomas, Lord Audley, and here he lived till his death in 1544. By marriage of his only daughter and heiress, the house passed into the possession of Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, and was then called Duke's Place.
Turning our backs upon Duke's Place and continuing a little further along the way by which Stow used to fetch the milk from the farm at the Minories to his father's house on Cornhill, we come to Leadenhall, a great building which served as a public granary in ancient times, and later as the chief market hall of the city. Leaving aside all the particulars of its history which Stow gives, let us note what he tells us from his own recollections:
"The use of Leadenhall in my youth was thus:—In a part of the north quadrant, on the east side of the north gate, were the common beams for weighing of wool and other wares, as had been accustomed; on the west side the gate were the scales to weigh meal; the other three sides were reserved, for the most part, to the making and resting of the pageants showed at Midsummer in the watch; the remnant of the sides and quadrants was employed for the stowage of wool sacks, but not closed up; the lofts above were partly used by the painters in working for the decking of pageants and other devices, for beautifying of the watch and watchmen; the residue of the lofts were letten out to merchants, the wool winders and packers therein to wind and pack their wools. And thus much for Leadenhall may suffice."
The celebration of the Nativity of St. John and the civic pageantry of Midsummer Eve belonged to the past; but Stow could remember the assembly of the citizens arrayed in parti-coloured vestments of red and white over their armour, their lances coloured and decorated to distinguish the various wards they represented, their torches borne in cressets on long poles. He could remember the processions as they passed the bonfires which burned in the open spaces of the city thoroughfares, and the throng of faces at the open windows and casements as they appeared in the fitful glare. The pageantry had disappeared with the suppression of the religious houses; but the military organization was merely changed. The musters of the city soldiers when they were reviewed by Queen Elizabeth at the coming of the Armada was a recent memory.
And so we turn into Bishopsgate Street again, and walk along to Crosby Hall, the ancient palace of Richard III. In the middle of the roadway, opposite the junction of Threadneedle Street with Bishopsgate Street, stands a well, with a windlass, which probably existed here before the conduit was made near the gateway in the time of Henry VIII. We enter the precinct of St. Helen's: the wall of Crosby's great chamber is on our right hand; before us is the church of the nunnery. The spirit of the place is upon us. The barriers of time are removed; past and present mingle in the current of our meditation. Lo! one bids us a courteous farewell: it is Master Stow, our cicerone, who goes away in the direction of St. Andrew Undershaft. The presence of another influence continues to be felt. We enter the dim church, and shadows of kneeling nuns seem to hover in the twilight of the northern nave. Invisible fingers touch the organ-keys; the strains of evensong arise from the choir. Our reverie is broken, an influence recedes from us. But turning our eyes towards the painted picture of Shakespeare which fills the memorial window in this ancient church, we join in the hymn of praise and thanksgiving.
What chiefly impressed the Elizabethan was the newness of London, and the rapidity with which its ancient features were being obliterated. John Stow felt it incumbent upon him to make a record of the ancient city before it was entirely swept away and forgotten. In what was new to him we find a similar interest.
Through Bishopsgate northward lies Shoreditch. The old church which stood here in Elizabethan times has disappeared, but on the site stands another church with the same dedication, to St. Leonard. The sweet peal of the bells from the old belfry, so much appreciated by the Elizabethans, is to be heard no more; but the muniment chest of the modern church contains the old registers, in which we may read the names of Tarleton, Queen Elizabeth's famous jester, of Burbage, and the colony of players who lived in this parish, in the precinct of the dissolved priory of Holywell. The road from Shoreditch to the precinct still exists, known as Holywell Lane.
The priory of St. John Baptist, called Holywell, a house of nuns, had been rebuilt, in the earlier period of the reign of Henry VIII., by Sir Thomas Lovel, K.G., of Lincoln's Inn. He endowed the priory with fair lands, extended the buildings, and added a large chapel. He also built considerably in Lincoln's Inn, including the fine old gateway in Chancery Lane, which still stands as one of the few remaining memorials of ancient London. Sir Thomas figures as one of the characters in Shakespeare's play of Henry VIII. When he died he was duly buried in the large chapel which he had added to Holywell Priory, in accordance with his design; but a few years later, in 1539, the priory was surrendered to the King and dissolved. Stow tells us that the church was pulled down—it is doubtful if Lovel's chapel was spared—and that many houses were built within the precinct "for the lodgings of noblemen, of strangers born, and others."
In the first edition of his Survey Stow added:—
"And near thereunto are builded two publique houses for the acting and shewe of comedies, tragedies and histories, for recreation. Whereof one is called the Courtein, and the other the Theatre; both standing on the south west side towards the field."
This passage was omitted from the second edition of the book published in 1603; but the whole extensive history of these playhouses, which was won from oblivion by the research of J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps, proceeded from this brief testimony of Stow.
Against the background of the ancient priory this precinct of Holywell presented a perfect picture of the new conditions which constituted what was distinctively Elizabethan London. It comprehended the conditions of freedom required by the new life. Outside the jurisdiction of the city, but within the protection of the justices of Middlesex; lying open to the common fields of Finsbury, where archery and other sports were daily practised; its two playhouses affording varied entertainment in fencing matches, wrestling matches, and other "sports, shows, and pastimes," besides stage-plays performed by the various acting companies which visited them; this precinct of Holywell presented a microcosm of Elizabethan London society. The attraction of the plays brought visitors from all parts of the city. On the days when dramatic performances were to be given flags were hoisted in the morning over the playhouses; and after the early midday dinner the stream of playgoers began to flow from the gates. On horseback and on foot, over the fields from Cripplegate and Moorgate, or along the road from Bishopsgate, came men and women, citizens and gallants, visitors from the country, adventurers and pickpockets. All classes and conditions mingled in the Theatre or the Curtain, in the "common playhouses," as they were called, which only came into existence in 1576, after the players had been banished from the city. It was all delightfully new and modern; the buildings were gorgeously decorated; the apparel of the players was rich and dazzling; the music was enthralling; the play was a magic dream.
Some of the plays of Marlowe were performed at these Holywell theatres; and in 1596 a play by the new poet, William Shakespeare, called Romeo and Juliet, was produced at the Curtain, and caused a great sensation in Elizabethan London. The famous balcony scene of this play was cleverly adapted to the orchestra gallery above the stage. The stage itself projected into the arena, and the "groundlings" stood around it. Above were three tiers of seated galleries, and near the stage were "lords' rooms," the precursors of the private boxes of a later time.
After the Theatre and Curtain had become a feature of Elizabethan London at Shoreditch, other playhouses came into existence on the other side of the river; first at Newington, outside the jurisdiction of the city, in conditions corresponding to those of Shoreditch. For the sports and pastimes of Finsbury Fields, in the neighbourhood of the playhouses, there were the sports and pastimes of St. George's Fields in the neighbourhood of the Newington Theatre. Playgoers from the city took boat to Paris Garden stairs and witnessed the bear-baiting on Bankside, or proceeded by road on horseback or on foot to St. George's Fields and Newington; or they went thither over the bridge all the way by road, walking or riding. The use of coaches was very limited, owing to the narrow roads and imperfect paving of Elizabethan London.
Shooting Match by the London Archers in the Year 1583.
At Newington the proprietor and manager of the playhouse was Philip Henslowe, whose diary is the chief source of what information we have concerning the earlier period of Elizabethan drama. He was a man of business instinct, who conducted his dramatic enterprise on purely commercial lines. In 1584 he secured the lease of a house and two gardens on Bankside, and here, in the "liberty" of the Bishop of Winchester, nearer to the city but outside the civic jurisdiction, he erected his playhouse, called the Rose, in 1591. Henslowe thus brought the drama nearer to the city than it had been since the edict of 1575 abolished the common stages which until then had been set up in inn yards or other convenient places in the city. The flag of the playhouse could be seen across the river; and from all points came the tide of playgoers, whose custom was a harvest to Henslowe and the Thames watermen.
Midway between these two points of theatrical attraction—Holywell, Shoreditch on the north, and Newington and Bankside on the south—Shakespeare lodged in the precinct of St. Helen's, Bishopsgate. The company of players with whom he had become finally associated was that of the Lord Chamberlain. They derived their profits from three sources—from performances at court, from theatrical tours, and from performances at the Theatre and the Curtain. The Theatre was the property of the family of James Burbage, who had built it in 1576—his son Richard Burbage, the famous actor, and others. The interest of the proprietors may have suffered from Henslowe's enterprise in setting up a playhouse on Bankside; and they were in dispute with the ground landlord of their playhouse in regard to the renewal of their lease. In these circumstances the Burbages, with the co-operation of other members of the company, secured a site in the Winchester Liberty on Bankside, not far from the Rose but nearer the Bridge. They then took down their building in Holywell, vacated the land, and re-erected the playhouse on the other side of the river. Those who participated in this enterprise became "sharers," or partners, in the new playhouse. Shakespeare was one of these, and the name by which it was called—the Globe—was symbolical of the genius which reached its maturity in plays presented in this theatre during the closing years of the reign of Elizabeth and the first decade of the reign of her successor. "Totus mundus agit histrionem" was the inscription over the portal of the Globe. "All the world's a stage," said Shakespeare's Jaques in As You Like It. The life of Elizabethan London found its ultimate expression in that playhouse, which became celebrated then as "the glory of the Bank," and now is famous in all parts of the world where the glory of English literature is cherished.
There were many reminiscences of mediæval times on the Surrey side. At Bermondsey were to be seen the extensive remains of the great abbey of St. Saviour. After the Dissolution its name became transferred to the church near the end of London Bridge, formerly known as St. Mary Overies, the splendid fane which in our time has worthily become the cathedral of Southwark. Between this church and the church of St. George were many inns, among them the Tabard, where travellers to and from Canterbury and Dover, or Winchester and Southampton, introduced an element of novelty, change, and bustle; where plays were performed in the inn yards before the playhouses were built on Bankside. At the end of Bankside, looking towards the church of St. Saviour, stood Winchester House, the London residence of the Bishop of Winchester since the twelfth century. Here Cardinal Beaufort and Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, had lived in great state. The site, including the park, which extended parallel with the river as far as Paris Garden, was formerly the property of the priory of Bermondsey. This area was under the separate jurisdiction of the Bishops of Winchester, and was called their "Liberty." Here, in the early years of Queen Elizabeth, were two amphitheatres—one for bull-baiting, the other for bear-baiting. There were also ponds for fish, called the Pike Ponds.[4] The great Camden records an anecdote of these ponds or stews, "which are here to feed Pikes and Tenches fat, and to scour them from the strong and muddy fennish taste." All classes delighted in the cruel sport of bear-baiting on the Bankside: ambassadors and distinguished foreigners were always conducted to these performances; on special occasions the Queen had them at the palace.
In 1583 one of the amphitheatres fell down, and when re-erected it was built on the model of the playhouses.[5] It then became known as the Bear Garden; the bull-baiting amphitheatre dropped out of existence; perhaps it was reconstructed by Henslowe as his Rose theatre. The point is not of much importance, except as regards the evolution of the playhouse.
The second playhouse built on the Surrey side after the Rose was the Swan, opened in 1596. This was erected on a site in the manor of Paris Garden, separated only by a road from the Liberty of Winchester. The playhouse was in a line with the landing-stairs, opposite Blackfriars.
After the Globe playhouse was built in 1599, the other playhouses—Henslowe's Rose and Langley's Swan—ceased to flourish. Here the outward facts corresponded with the inward: a lovely flower had opened into bloom on the Bankside; what was unnecessary to its support drooped earthward like a sheath.
Opposite Paris Garden, across the river, was Blackfriars; and here the change from the ancient order to what was distinctively Elizabethan London was most manifest. The ancient monastery had existed here from 1276, when the Dominican or Black Friars moved hither from Holborn, until 1538, when the establishment was surrendered to King Henry VIII. It possessed a magnificent church, a vast palatial hall, and cloisters. Edward VI. had granted the whole precinct, with its buildings, to Sir Thomas Cawarden, the Master of the Revels. It became an aristocratic residential quarter; and in the earlier period of Queen Elizabeth's reign plays were performed here, probably in the ancient hall of the monastery, by the children of Her Majesty's chapel and the choir-boys of St. Paul's. At a later period—viz., in 1596—James Burbage, who built the theatre in Shoreditch, built a new playhouse in the precinct, or more probably adapted an existing building—the hall or part of the church—to serve the purpose of dramatic representation. This playhouse, consequently, was not open to the weather at the top like the common playhouses, and it was distinguished as the "private" theatre at Blackfriars.
The west wall of the precinct was built along the bank of the Fleet river. Across the river opposite was the royal palace of Bridewell, which Edward VI. had given to the city of London to be a workhouse for the poor and a house of correction. This contiguity of a house for the poor and the remains of a monastery suggests a reflection on the social problem of Elizabethan London.
Before the Reformation the religious houses were the agencies for the relief of the poor, the sick, the afflicted. The unemployed were assisted with lodging and food on their way as they journeyed in search of a market for their labour, paying for their entertainment at the religious houses by work either on the roads in the neighbourhood or on the buildings or in the gardens and fields, according to their trades and skill. It would seem that King Henry did not realise the importance and extent of this feature in the social economy, because, after he had suppressed the religious establishments, he complained very reproachfully of the number of masterless men and rogues that were everywhere to be found, especially about London. The good Bishop Ridley, in an eloquent appeal addressed to William Cecil, represented the poor and sick and starving in the streets of London in the person of Christ, beseeching the king to succour the poor and suffering Christ in the streets of London by bestowing his palace of Bridewell to be a home for the homeless, the starving, and the sick, where erring ones could be corrected and the good sustained. The good young monarch granted the bishop's request, and Bridewell Hospital was thus founded to do the social work in which Blackfriars monastery on the other side of the Fleet river had formerly borne its share. But single efforts of this kind were quite unequal to cope with the social difficulty; and early in the reign of Elizabeth the first Poor Law was passed and a system of relief came into operation.
To meet the difficulty of unemployment, it was part of the policy of Queen Elizabeth's Government to encourage new industries, whether due to invention and discovery or to knowledge gained by visiting foreign countries to learn new processes and manufactures; the inventor or the introducer of the novelty was rewarded with a monopoly, and he received a licence "to take up workmen" to be taught the methods of the new industry. One of the manufactures which had been thus stimulated was glass-making; and in the precinct of Blackfriars was a famous glass-house or factory, a reminiscence of which still exists in the name Glasshouse Yard. It has been shown how the crafts and trades of Elizabethan London gravitated to separate areas: Blackfriars precinct was famous as the abode of artists; one may hazard the guess that some of the portraits of Elizabethan and Jacobean players in the Dulwich Gallery may have been painted here. In the reign of Charles I. Vandyke had his studio in Blackfriars, where the king paid him a visit to see his pictures. The precinct was famous also as the abode of glovers; and in the reigns of James and Charles it became a notorious stronghold of Puritans. The existing name of Playhouse Yard, at the back of The Times newspaper office, affords some indication of the site of the theatre; and the name Cloister Court is the sole remnant of the cloisters of Blackfriars monastery.
The eastern boundary of the precinct was St. Andrew's Hill, which still exists. On the site of the present church of St. Andrew in the Wardrobe stood a church of the same dedication in Elizabethan London. Stow wrote of "the parish church of St. Andrew in the Wardrobe, a proper church, but few monuments hath it." Near the church (the site being indicated by the existing court called the Wardrobe) was a building of State, which Stow calls "the King's Great Wardrobe." The Elizabethan use of the Wardrobe is described by Stow thus: "In this house of late years is lodged Sir John Fortescue, knight, master of the wardrobe, chancellor and under-treasurer of the exchequer, and one of her majesty's most honorable privy Council."
Near the top of St. Andrew's Hill and within the precinct of Blackfriars was a house which Shakespeare purchased in 1613. It is described in the extant Deed of Conveyance as "now or late being in the tenure or occupation of one William Ireland ... abutting upon a street leading down to Puddle Wharf on the east part, right against the Kinges Majesties Wardrobe." Curiously enough, the name of this occupier survives in the existing Ireland Yard.