Carrying the Crug-basket
For some years nothing was done to further the cause of this charity, but in 1552, when Bishop Ridley, who was a mightily convincing preacher, was discoursing upon charity before Edward VI., the boy-King was so moved that he conversed with the bishop, and, together with the Lord Mayor and aldermen of the city, determined to found three hospitals—Christ's Hospital for the education of poor children, St. Thomas's for the relief of the sick and diseased, and Bridewell for the correction and amendment of the idle and the vagabond. Before his last illness, Edward had just strength enough to sign the charter for the founding of these institutions, ejaculating: "Lord, I yield Thee most hearty thanks that Thou hast given me life thus long to finish this work to the glory of Thy name." The good citizens of London, with their accustomed charity, immediately set to work, before the granting of the charter, to subscribe money for the repair of the old monastic buildings, and in 1552 three hundred and forty children were admitted, not so much for educational purposes as for their rescue from the streets, and the provision of shelter, food, and clothing. It must have been a welcome sight to the citizens to see them clothed in livery of russet cotton, the boys with red caps, the girls with kerchiefs on their heads, lining the procession when the Lord Mayor and aldermen rode to St. Paul's on Christmas Day. On the following Easter the boys and "mayden children" were in "plonket," or blue—hence the hospital derived the name of the Blue Coat School. The dress of the boys, concerning the origin of which many fanciful interpretations have been made, is the costume of the period generally worn by apprentices and serving men, consisting of a long blue coat, with leathern girdle, a sleeveless yellow waistcoat and yellow stockings, clerical bands and a small black cap completing the dress. "Four thousand marks by the year" from the royal exchequer were granted by the King for the maintenance of the school, which sum was largely supplemented by the citizens and other pious benefactors, such as Lady Ramsay, who founded "a free writing schoole for poor men's children" at the hospital. Camden says that at the beginning of the seventeenth century six hundred children were maintained and educated, and one thousand two hundred and forty pensioners relieved by the hospital in alms, and, later on, as many as one thousand one hundred and twenty children were cared for by this institution. The governors, moreover, started "place houses" in other districts—at Hertford, Ware, Reading, and Bloxburn—where boys were educated.
Wooden Platters and Beer Jack.
The buildings were greatly injured by the fire of 1666, when the old monastic church was entirely destroyed. The great hall was soon rebuilt by Sir John Frederick, and then the famous Royal Mathematical School was founded through the exertions of Sir Robert Clayton, Sir Jonas Moore, Sir Christopher Wren, Sir Charles Scarbrough, and Samuel Pepys. King Charles II. granted a charter and £1,000 a year for seven years, and the forty boys who composed the school were called "King's boys." They were instructed in navigation, and wore a badge on the left shoulder. A subordinate mathematical school, consisting of twelve scholars, denoted "the Twelves," who wore a badge on the right shoulder, was subsequently formed. Pepys took a keen interest in the school, and a series of a large number of his letters is in existence which show the efforts he made to maintain the mathematical school. He tells also of a little romance connected with the hospital, which is worth recording. There was at that time a grammar school for boys and a separate school for girls. Two wealthy citizens left their estates, one to a bluecoat boy, and the other to a bluecoat girl. Some of the governors thought that it would be well if these two fortunate recipients were married. So a public wedding was arranged at the Guildhall chapel, where the ceremony was performed by the Dean of St. Paul's, the bride, supported by two bluecoat boys, being given away by the Lord Mayor, and the bridegroom, attired in blue satin, being led to the altar by two bluecoat girls.
Piggin: Wooden Spoon. Wooden Soup-ladle.
A noble gift of Sir Robert Clayton enabled the governors to rebuild the east cloister and south front. The writing school was erected by Sir Christopher Wren in 1694, at the expense of Sir John Moore. The ward over the east side cloister was rebuilt in 1705 by Sir Francis Child, the banker, and in 1795 the grammar school was erected. Some of the buildings of the old monastery survived until the beginning of the last century, but they were somewhat ruinous and unsafe, hence, in 1803, a great building fund was formed. The hall erected after the great fire was pulled down, and a vast building in the Tudor style begun in 1825, which was so familiar to all who passed along the eastern end of Holborn. John Shaw was the architect. You will remember the open arcade, the buttresses and octagonal towers, and the embattled and pinnacled walls, and, above all, you will remember the crowd of happy boys, clad in their picturesque garb, kicking about the merry football. The dining hall was one of the finest rooms in London, being 187 feet long, 51 feet wide, and 47 feet high; lighted by nine large windows, those on the south side being filled with stained glass. There hung the huge charter picture, representing Edward VI. presenting the charter to the Lord Mayor, the Chancellor, officers of State, and children of the school being in attendance. This picture has been attributed to Holbein, but since the event occurred in 1553, and that artist could have produced no work later than 1534, the tradition is erroneous. Two portraits of Edward VI. are also in the possession of the hospital attributed to Holbein, but they have been proved to be the work of a later artist. Verrio's portrait of Charles II., and his picture of James II. receiving the mathematical boys, are very large canvases.
It is unnecessary to describe all the buildings which so recently existed, but have now been swept away. It is more interesting to note some of the curious customs which exist or formerly existed in the school, and some of the noted of the old "Blues." Christ's Hospital was a home of old customs, some of them, perhaps, little relished by the scholars. Each boy had a wooden "piggin" for drinking small beer served out of a leathern or wooden jack; a platter, spoon, and soup-ladle of the same material. There was a quaint custom of supping in public on Sundays during Lent, when visitors were admitted, and the Lord Mayor or president of the governors sat in state. Quaint wooden candlesticks adorned the tables, and, after the supper, were carried away in procession, together with the tablecloths, crug-baskets, or baskets used for carrying bread, bowls, jacks, and piggins. Before the supper a hymn was sung, and a "Grecian," or head boy, read the prayers from the pulpit, silence being enforced by three blows of a wooden hammer. The supper then began, consisting of bread and cheese, and the visitors used to walk about between the tables. Then followed the solemn procession of the boys carrying their goods, and bowing repeatedly to the governors and their guests. It was a pleasing custom, honoured by the presence of many distinguished guests, and Queen Victoria and Prince Albert on one occasion witnessed the spectacle.
