Hither came, for one purpose and another, many of the royal heads of England, from Harold, the founder, to Charles II.; dignitaries of the Church, and potent ornaments of the State; while within the shadow of the minster’s massy walls lived and laboured men who have moulded and influenced the thoughts and lives of the people. Henry I. and Matilda of Scotland were visitors to the Abbey, the latter being a considerable benefactress; Henry II. established the monastery here and richly endowed it, he “loved Waltham entirely, and lay many times thereat.” King John came often to Waltham; Henry III. loved the Abbey for its beauty and seclusion, and resorted thereto often for peace and retirement. Edward I. and his beloved wife Eleanor were frequently in residence here, and when the body of the latter was brought from Grantham to London in 1290, it rested for a night here, the mortal remains of the king himself remaining in the Abbey, beside Harold’s tomb, for fifteen weeks, on their way from Scotland to Westminster in 1307. When Wat Tyler’s insurrection placed Richard II. in jeopardy he sought the sanctuary of the ancient pile. Henry VIII., who was very fond of Waltham, had a private lodging close by the Abbey, and was often the guest of the abbot. Cranmer was frequently resident at Waltham; John Foxe lived and wrote his “Book of Martyrs” here; Thomas Tallis, father of our beautiful church music, was organist at the Abbey; Thomas Fuller, author of the “Worthies of England,” was incumbent of the Abbey Church; so also was Bishop Joseph Hall, author of the “Contemplations”; Bishop George Hall was a native of the town; and Izaak Walton, who so loved the “gentle Lea,” was here often on a visit to a relative.

The bustling train lands the visitor at Waltham Cross Station, in the county of Herts, and one must proceed for about a mile on foot eastward to attain the Abbey and town of Waltham Holy Cross, which lie in the adjoining county of Essex. But after the “mean things that are new” have been passed, the way is pleasant. The road is bordered on one side for a goodly distance by the marshlands and crosses many times over the river Lea, which, as old Fuller humorously observes, “not only parteth Herts from Essex, but also seven times parteth from itself, and is crossed by so many bridges.” Beyond the waterside inn on the bridge that spans the Lea navigation, and displays the comforting sign of the “Old English Gentleman,” Highbridge Street is entered, and the old town opens out, with the tower of the Abbey, but just restored to its original dignity of design, closing in the view. The principal entrance to the Royal Gunpowder Factory lies just to the left here, and much that is picturesque and quaint will strike an observant eye on the way. The diversity in character and style of the houses and shops, the irregularity of their disposition, with their time-tinted exteriors, and the bits of garden and splashes of verdant foliage, which break up the line of bricks and mortar, timber and stucco, give the old street that peculiar charm which is so often characteristic of an ancient town.

Romeland.

Just before the Abbey is reached, approached by a way that allows little more room than is needful for a cart to pass, is an open square of very old houses, a most picturesque corner of the old town, that bears the somewhat curious appellation of Romeland. [12] How and why the place came to be so called it is not easy to determine; but the abbots of Waltham, whose seat was at Copt Hall, had their London house on or adjacent to a site in the parish of St. Mary-at-Hill, adjoining what is now Billingsgate Market, which was also called Romeland. To the rent of this, as well as the market square at Waltham, the Pope laid claim, and the latter was then known as Romescot or Peter’s Piece. It is to this circumstance, probably, that the place owes its name.

It was in the house of Master Cressy, a long-fronted structure, which stands on the left of the entrance to Romeland, that, in 1533, Cranmer, Fox, and Gardiner discussed the question of Henry’s divorce from Katherine of Aragon. Then it was that Cranmer “struck the keynote of the Reformation,” by claiming “for the Word of God that supremacy which had been usurped by the popes for centuries.” Fuller refers to this as a significant circumstance and says: “Thus did Waltham give Rome the first deadly blow in England.”

A King’s Diversions.

Bluff King Hal was very partial to Waltham and enjoyed the hunting in the forest. He frequently stayed at his house in the Romeland, still standing at the north-east corner. There are many stories, often with the “merry monarch” for a hero, connected with his patronage of Waltham. One day he left his hunting companions and returned to Waltham in the guise of one of his attendants, and, being invited to the abbot’s table, ate heartily of the sirloin of beef placed before him, to the great admiration of his host. “Well fare thy heart,” the latter toasted his guest, “here is a cup of sack, and remember the grace of thy master. I would willingly give one hundred crowns on condition that I could feed as heartily on beef as thou dost! Alas! my weak stomach will hardly digest the wing of a small rabbit or chicken.” The king pledged his host, and thanked him; in due time he departed as secretly as he had come. A little while after, the abbot was suddenly arrested and conveyed to the Tower, where he was kept for some days on bread and water. Then a sirloin of beef was set before him, of which he ate heartily. The king entered in the midst of the meal, and demanded of his prisoner payment of the hundred crowns, which, when the abbot recognised the trap into which he had fallen, he gladly paid.

On another occasion, when Henry was the guest of Sir Henry Colte, of Nether Hall, Roydon, the latter provided a novel entertainment for his royal guest. It is related that the knight and his men waylaid the monks on Waltham marsh one dark night, having been informed by spies that they were on a visit to Cheshunt nunnery, and, catching them in a buck stall (a trap used for deer) left them wallowing in the mire until dawn. Then the “knight of merry conceits” conducted his dejected captives to the king, and presented them to his majesty as the splendid game he had been able to secure. King Harry burst into a loud fit of laughter, and declared that, though he had “often seen sweeter, he had never viewed fatter venison.”

The open space (Romeland), with its quaint high-gabled, stuccoed, and red-brick houses, is a busy scene on Tuesdays, when the cattle market is held here. On the eastern side, abutting upon the Abbey church, the tower of which comes charmingly into view over the house tops, is the ancient corn mill, which was given to the Abbey by Maud, Queen of Henry I., in 1108, in exchange for the site of Holy Trinity, Aldgate. She also restored to the Abbey certain lands, which had been alienated, known as the Abbey fields, which stretch northward from here; and moreover established two fairs for the town.