“Item, I bequeath my body to be buried with the body of my lord at Windsor, according to the will of my said lord and mine, without pomps entering or costly expenses done thereabout. Item, whereas I have no worldly goods to do the Queen’s Grace, my dearest daughter a pleasure with, neither to reward any of my children, according to my heart and mind, I beseech Almighty God to bless her Grace, with all her noble issue: and with as good a heart and mind as is to me possible, I give her Grace my blessing, and all aforesaid, my children. Item, I will that such small stuff and goods that I have be disposed truly in the contentation of my debts and for the health of my soul as far as they will extend. Item, if any of my blood will any of the said stuff or goods to me pertaining, I will that they have the preferment before any other.”

Drawn by C. J. M. Whichello.Engraved by B. Howlett.
A GENERAL VIEW OF THE REMAINS OF BERMONDSEY ABBEY, SURREY
As it appeared in the year 1805, with the adjacent country. Taken from the steeple of the Church of St. Mary Magdalen.

The position of Bermondsey Abbey would at first appear to have been exactly similar to that of Westminster: both Abbeys stood upon islets slightly raised above high-water mark; all round the islet of each stretched marshes, with other tiny islets here and there, as at Chelsea and Battersea. But there was this difference. In front of Thorney was a ford; at the back of Thorney was a ford; beyond the ford on the south was the high road to Dover; beyond the ford on the north was the high road to the heart of the country. Bermondsey was near the river, but the river here was broad and deep even at low tide; Bermondsey was not situated on the high road of commerce; the high road to Dover was near the Abbey, certainly, but not running right through it, so to speak, as the road ran at Westminster. The Abbey lay quiet and remote, even from Southwark; and after the building of the river wall on the south, whenever that was done, the marshes became low-lying meadows, dotted with ponds and with trees, where cows lay asleep in the sun. The Abbey stood alone, removed from houses, among gardens and orchards; it might almost have been in the country, so quiet and peaceful were the surroundings. But from the river there was heard the yeo-heave-ho of the sailors; the masts and sails could be seen above the river wall; there was heard every day the hymn of praise with which the sailors celebrated their safe arrival in port; and the sound of the multitudinous bells of London was wafted across the river to this peaceful spot.

The Abbey possessed a miraculous Rood, to which people paid pilgrimage. It was one of the many shrines round London which were convenient for a day’s pleasant journey into the country. In the Paston Letters, John Paston writes, “I pray you visit the Rood of Saint Saviour in Bermondsey while ye abide in London, and let my sister Margery go with you to pray to them that she shall have a good husband or she come home again.”

This holy Rood was found in the Thames in 1117, and began almost immediately to work miracles. In 1118 William, Earl of Morton, was “miraculously liberated from the Tower of London through the power of this holy Cross.”

Twenty-two years later, the same William, Earl of Morton, entered the Abbey and took the vows. The Rood was taken down on the same day that the Rood of Grace of Kent was destroyed by the Bishop of Rochester at Paul’s Cross.

One of the last acts of Henry the Seventh was to found an “anniversary” in this House to pray for the good and prosperous estate of the King during his life, for the prosperity of the realm, for the soul of his late Queen Elizabeth—not Elizabeth Woodville, of whom no mention is made, for the soul of Edmund, Earl of Richmond, the King’s father, and of Margaret, Countess of Richmond, his mother; and for the souls of his children.

At the Dissolution, the revenues of the House were valued at £548: 2: 5-1/2. The Abbot, who was made Bishop of St. Asaph, received a pension of 500 marks, or £333: 6: 8 a year. Fifteen years later, in 1553, there were still seven or eight annuitants surviving, viz. one at 15 marks a year; three at 9; two at 8; and smaller annuities amounting to 11 marks a year.