ANCIENT GUILDHALLS IN ENGLAND.
If a history of the ancient Guildhalls of England could be compiled, it would form an interesting volume; as the ancient fabrics wherein our forefathers met to transact their civic affairs may almost be said to have symbolised the status of the municipalities in which they stood at various epochs of their history. Our old English boroughs cannot boast the possession of halls equal to the Hotels de Ville of Belgium or France, or the Rath-häusen of Germany. We cannot show in this country edifices equal to the Hotel de Ville of Brussels, or Aix-la-Chapelle, or Rouen, in point of architectural extent or beauty; or of Ratisbon, or other German towns, in point of venerable and antique interest. But we have buildings yet standing among us which, if less imposing in their exteriors, are nevertheless associated with historic memories of no common order, and secondary in this respect to none of the grander town-halls of ancient Flanders.
The guildhall of Leicester cannot boast of any outside show. It is plain to meanness in this respect; it is on one side a mere barn in appearance; yet it has its claim on the attention of the antiquary.
The first distinct mention of a guildhall in Leicester is in a small charter, executed in the mayoralty of Peter Rogerson. From this it appears that in 1250 William Ordriz, the son of Stephen, conveyed to the mayor and burgesses a building which became the guildhall. The deed is endorsed Charta de la Gild Salle. It contained three bays of buildings, was twenty yards in length, and about eight yards from front to back. It had solars, cellars, and dungeons. There was then an older fabric, known as the guildhall, which was conveyed to a private townsman in the year 1275. The hall, of which the corporation became the possessors in 1250, remained in use until the reign of Elizabeth, and even at intervals until the date of the Commonwealth, being sometimes called the old Moot Hall, and at others the "Old Shop."
Anterior to the Reformation two religious guilds had halls, known as St. George's and Corpus Christi Halls. When these fraternities were dissolved, the buildings remained; one near the east of St. Martin's church, the other near its western extremity. The first of these fell into entire disuse and decay; while the latter, Corpus Christi Hall, gradually superseded as a civic edifice the old Moot Hall. I have found in the hall books of the borough of Leicester entries as early as the 10th of Henry VIII., in which the hall of Corpus Christi Guild is referred to as the occasional place of meeting of the municipal body. A deed, bearing date the 5th of Elizabeth, states that the queen had conveyed the hall to Cecily Pickerell of Norwich, widow, who reconveyed it to the recorder of Leicester, Braham, evidently as the representative of the mayor and burgesses, not then formally incorporated.
Meanwhile, the old hall seems to have served as a lock-up or gaol, and was finally sold in 1653 to a maltster, who would undoubtedly convert the roomy old structure into a malt-house.
The Corpus Christi Hall would appear to have been enlarged when it was fairly in the hands of the civic authorities, not only in the reign of Elizabeth (about the year 1586), but in that of Charles I. Many particulars about the building will be found in the Handbook of Leicester.
The guildhall of Leicester is within one of the most picturesque old structures of the country, and is well described by your correspondent Kt. As you enter, its rude rafters rise directly from the ground on either hand, and embrace over the head of the visitor, forming pointed arches. As you advance along the floor the beams widen, and the Tudor timbering and architectural detail are clearly discernible; two staples still remaining on one of the braces, which tradition says sustained the scenery of the players in the time when theatrical performers were allowed to act there, and when even Shakspeare figured in the histrionic group. Having reached the western end you find yourself in front of the bench on which the mayor and magistrates sit to dispense justice, the ancient gilded frame for the mace (now tenantless) surmounting the chief magistrate's chair. The rich old mantelpiece of the mayor's parlour, and the fragments of painted glass in its windows, enhance and complete the antiquarian attractions of this relic of Edwardian and Elizabethan architecture.
Jaytee.