This great building stands to-day his monument. The solid masonry walls twelve to sixteen feet thick enclose the vaults formerly used as torture chambers when occasion demanded, the main floor, the banqueting floor and the state floor. The chapel of St. John the Evangelist rises through two floors in the southeast corner, while the low towers at the four corners command the scene for miles. Old Gundulf built well, and completed also St. Peter's chapel and the Hall tower. The other towers with their connecting walls enclosing the Inner Ward were built later, many of them by Henry III. The Beauchamp tower, the Belfry, the Garden or Bloody tower, the Lantern, the Salt tower, the Broad Arrow tower, the Constable tower, the Martin tower, the Brick tower, the Flint tower, the Bowyer tower and the Develin tower, were all built in the wall for purposes of defence, but all have sheltered prisoners from time to time.
Within this Inner Ward, besides the buildings already named were royal apartments and a Great Hall of justice (long since destroyed), the mint, which remained until 1810, residences for officers, barracks, etc. Around all this was a second strong wall protected by other strong towers, which was planned and partially constructed by Henry III. Of these towers on the outer wall, St. Thomas' tower on the river—better known as the Traitors' Gate—is the most important. Under this tower prisoners were landed from the river. The space enclosed by the outer wall is about thirteen acres, and around all was a broad moat flooded from the Thames.
The importance of the Tower as a fortress diminished with the invention of gunpowder, but it continued to be used as a royal residence, at intervals, until the accession of Charles II. Here Henry III lived and planned great structures; during the wars of the Roses, York and Lancaster held court in turn; Henry VII schemed for greater wealth, and his son was led to defy the Pope while keeping a residence here.
But it is with the Tower as a prison that we are most concerned. The roll of the prisoners tells England's history. The petty intrigues of court favourites; the greatness or the meanness of kings; the struggle for power among great families; the truckling to foreign power which brought Raleigh to the block, and the great struggle for religious
and political freedom are all set forth in the story of this great prison.
The first prisoner confined within the walls appears to have been Ralph Flambard, (the Firebrand), Bishop of Durham, who as treasurer of William the Conqueror had been forced to find the funds for old Gundulf's work. Hated by the commons for his exactions, he was taken into custody on the accession of Henry Beauclerc and was lodged in an upper room of the White tower, as yet unsurrounded by walls. He was well treated and allowed many privileges, but his efforts to secure his release were unsuccessful. One night in February, 1101, when he had caused all his guards to drink heavily of wine brought in at his expense, he drew a rope from one of the casks, tied it to the window sixty-five feet from the ground, and descended. Though the rope was short and he fell heavily, his servants were waiting, and he made good his escape to France, there to remain until forgiven and restored to his bishopric.
Another important early prisoner was the victim of King John's unlawful love, Maud Fitzwalter, the daughter of one of his powerful barons, who refused to grant his will. The coward king attempted to break her spirit by confinement in an uncomfortable cell, and banished her family. Bravely resisting the king's desires to the end, she died, perhaps by poison. Her father returned and placed himself at the head of that band of bishops
and barons who compelled the king to sign the Great Charter at Runnymede.
Next we hear of the incarceration of six hundred Jews charged by Edward I with tampering with the coinage. The same king brought John de Baliol, king of Scotland, and David Bruce to the Tower in 1298, and William Wallace, the hero of Scotland, was imprisoned here in 1305 before his execution at Smithfield. During this reign also Griffin, Prince of Wales, who had been first confined by Henry III, attempted to escape by the same method which Flambard had used so successfully, but his cord, made from strips of his bed coverings, was too weak and his neck was broken by the fall.