Chapter III: Part 3

Though subjected to various sieges, the Tower was only once surrendered, after the one in 1460.

In 1263 two posterns were made for the service of the palace. One of these was undoubtedly the Cradle tower, "K"; the other may have been that of the Byward tower, "H," subsequently rebuilt about the time of Richard II.

In 1267 the Papal Legate, Cardinal Ottobon, took refuge in the tower, which was promptly besieged by the Earl of Gloucester. According to the _Chronicle_ of T. Wykes, "the King threw reinforcements into the fortress, and brought out the Legate by the south postern," which can only have been one of the two posterns before mentioned, or that of the Iron Gate tower, "N," which then gave upon the open country without the city walls.

To return to the records. In 1240 the King directed the keepers of the works at the Tower to repair all the _glass_ windows of St. John's Chapel, also those of the great chamber towards the Thames, "J," and to make a great round turret in one corner of the said chamber, so that the drain from it may descend to the Thames, and to make a new cowl on the top of the kitchen of the great tower (the keep?).[41]

In the following year, "the leaden gutters of the keep are to be carried down to the ground, that its newly _whitewashed_ external walls may not be defaced by the dropping of the rain-water; and at the top, on the south side, deep alures of good timber, entirely and well covered with lead, are to be made, through which people may look even unto the foot of the tower, and ascend to better defend it if need be (this evidently refers to a wooden hoarding projecting beyond the stone battlements, and supported on beams and brackets). Three new painted glass windows are to be made for St. John's Chapel, with images of the Virgin and Child, the Trinity, and St. John the Apostle; the cross and beam (rood-beam) beyond the altar are to be painted well, and with good colours, and _whitewash_ all the old wall round our aforesaid tower."[42]

In 1244, Griffin, the eldest son of Llewellyn, Prince of North Wales, was a prisoner in the keep, and was allowed half a mark (6s. 8d.) for his daily sustenance. "Impatient of his tedious imprisonment, he attempted to escape, and having made a cord out of his sheets, tapestries, and tablecloths, endeavoured to lower himself by it; but, less fortunate than Flambard, when he had descended but a little, the rope snapped from the weight of his body (for he was a big man, and very corpulent), he fell, and was instantly killed, his corpse being found next morning at the base of the keep, with his head and neck driven in between his shoulders from the violence of the impact, a horrible and lamentable spectacle," as the chronicler feelingly expresses it.[43]

In 1237 there is a curious reference to a small cell or hermitage, apparently situated upon the north side of St. Peter's Chapel, near the place marked "q." It was inhabited by an "inclusus," or immured anchorite, who daily received one penny by the charity of the King. A robe also appears to have been occasionally presented to the inmate. It was in the King's gift, and seems, from subsequent references in the records, to have been bestowed upon either sex indifferently, unless there were two cells, for the record mentions it in one place as the "reclusory" or "ankerhold" of St. Peter, and in another as that of St. Eustace.[44]

The _Liber Albus_ also mentions, in the time of Edward III., a grant of the "Hermitage near the garden of our Lord the King upon Tower Hill."[45] This last was probably near the orchard of "perie," or pear trees, first planted by Henry III. on Great Tower Hill, doubtless in what were known as the "Nine gardens in the Tower Liberty," adjoining the postern in the city wall.

In 1250, the King directs his chamber in the Lanthorn tower, "k," to be adorned with a painting of the story of Antioch[46] and the combat of King Richard.

From the time of John, the Tower seems to have been used as an arsenal, suits of armour, siege engines, and iron fetters being kept there; and in 1213 we find John drawing from the stores in the fortress thirty "dolia" or casks of wine, and also giving orders that "bacones nostros qui sunt apud turrim" should be killed and salted, so that pig-styes and wine cellars then formed part of its domestic buildings.

In 1225 the manufacture of crossbows was carried on. The "Balistarius," or master bowyer (who perhaps gave his name to the Bowyer tower, "e," in the basement of which he had his workshop), had twelve pence a day, with a suit of clothes and three servants (probably assistant workmen). Other officials were appointed to provide and keep in store armour, arrows, and projectile engines.[47]

With the accession of Edward I., the long list of works at the Tower practically comes to an end.

In 1274 there is a payment of two hundred marks for the completion of the great barbican, with its ditch, commenced by Henry III., afterwards known as the Lions' tower, "C," which probably included the outer gate at "B," called the Lions' Gate.

The chapel of St. Peter was rebuilt about 1305, St. Thomas' tower, "I," was finished, and connected by a flying bridge with the upper story of the Hall tower, "l." This, though subsequently destroyed, was restored by Mr. Salvin in 1867, at which time, the new Record Office in Fetter Lane being completed, the State papers formerly kept in the Hall tower, and elsewhere in the Tower, were removed thither. The basement of the Hall tower was vaulted, and its upper story fitted up for the reception of the regalia. The Crown jewels were removed from the Martin or Jewel tower, "g," where they were formerly kept, which was the scene of the notorious Colonel Blood's attempt to steal the crown in 1673. The keeper of the regalia now resides in the upper part of St. Thomas' tower, above Traitors' Gate, and has thus ready access at all times to his important charge.

In 1289 the great ditch was again enlarged, and in 1291 occurs the entry already mentioned of the annual payment of five marks as compensation to the "Master, Brethren, and Sisters of St. Katherine's Hospital, near our Tower, for the damage they have sustained by the enlargement of the ditch that we caused to be made round the aforesaid Tower."[48]

It is probable that towards the close of this reign vaultings of stone replaced wooden floors in several of the towers, and other improvements were made in them. The clay from the ditch was sold by the Constable to the tile-makers of East Smithfield. In the first year it only yielded 20s., but during the twelve years the work was in progress it contributed £7 on the average every year to the exchequer, a large sum when the relative value of money is considered, and equal to more than £100 a year of the present currency![49]

In 1278 no less than 600 Jews were imprisoned in the Tower on a charge of clipping and debasing the coin. Many of them are said to have been confined in that gloomy vault now called "Little Ease," where, from the entire absence of sanitary accommodation and proper ventilation, their numbers were rapidly thinned by death.[50]

The mural arcade of the inner curtain wall between the Bell tower, "a," the Beauchamp tower, "b," and the Devereux tower, "c," is probably of this period. In spite of much patching and alterations to adapt it for the use of firearms, it bears a close resemblance in its design to those of Caernarvon Castle and Castle Coch, near Cardiff. The great quay, "O," does not appear to have been walled through; it had its own gates, "P," at either end. Two small towers (now removed) protected the drawbridges of the two posterns, "H" and "K." The outer curtain wall, "R," commanded the ditch and wharf, and was in its turn commanded by the more lofty inner curtain, "8," and its towers, and these again by the keep, while the narrow limits of the outer ward effectually prevented any attempts to escalade them by setting up movable towers, or by breaching them with battering rams. Any besiegers who succeeded in entering the outer ward would be overwhelmed by the archery from these wall arcades at such point-blank range that even plate armour would be no protection, while, should they succeed in carrying the inner ward, the remnant of the defenders might retreat to the keep, and, relying upon its passive strength, hold out to the last within its massive walls in hope of external succour, before famine or a breach compelled a surrender.

The Scotch wars of Edward I. filled the Tower with many distinguished prisoners, among whom were the Earls of Ross, Athol, and Menteith, and the famous Sir William Wallace. They seem to have experienced a varying degree of severity: some were ordered to be kept in a "strait prison in iron fetters," as were the Bishops of Glasgow and St. Andrew's (though they were imprisoned elsewhere); others are to be kept "body for body," that is to say, safely, but not in irons, with permission to hear mass; while a few are to be treated with leniency, and have chambers, with a privy chamber or latrine attached.[51]

In 1303 the King (then at Linlithgow) sent the Abbot of Westminster and forty-eight of his monks to the Tower on a charge of having stolen £100,000 of the royal treasure placed in the abbey treasury for safe-keeping! After a long trial, the sub-prior and the sacrist were convicted and executed, when their bodies were flayed and the skins nailed to the doors of the re-vestry and treasury of the abbey as a solemn warning to other such evildoers,[52] the abbot and the rest of the monks being acquitted.

No works of any importance can be assigned to the reign of Edward II., the only occurrences of importance being the downfall of the Knights Templars and the imprisonment of many of them at the Tower, where the Grand Prior, William de la More, expired in solitary confinement a few months after the close of the proceedings that marked the suppression of the order; and the escape of Roger Mortimer from the keep (which reads almost like a repetition of Flambard's), the consequences to the constable being his disgrace and imprisonment.[53]

The Tower was the principal arsenal of Edward III., who in 1347 had a manufactory of _gunpowder_ there, when various entries in the Records mention purchases of sulphur and saltpetre "pro gunnis Regis."[54]

A survey of the Tower was ordered in 1336, and the Return to it is printed _in extenso_ by Bayley.[55] Some of the towers are called by names (as for example, "Corande's" and "la Moneye" towers, the latter perhaps an early reference to the Mint) which no longer distinguish them. The Return shows that these--the Iron gate tower, "N," the two posterns of the wharf, and Petty Wales, "_P.P._," the wharf itself, and divers other buildings--were all in need of repair, the total amount for the requisite masonry, timber, tile work, lead, glass, and iron work being £2,154 17s. 8d.!

In 1354 the city ditch is ordered to be cleansed and prevented from flowing into the Tower ditch, and, according to the _Liber Albus_, the penalty of death was promulgated against anyone bathing in the Tower ditch, or even in the Thames adjacent to the Tower!

In 1347 the Tower received, in the person of David, King of Scotland, the first of a long line of royal prisoners, and in 1358 the large sum of £2 12s. 9d. was paid for his medicine. John, King of France, Richard II., Henry VI., Edward V., Queens Jane Dudley, Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard, and Princess Elizabeth complete the list.

The Great Wardrobe, "z," adjoining the Wardrobe tower, "s," the Beauchamp tower, "b," the upper story of the Bowyer tower, "e," and perhaps the Constable and Broad Arrow towers, "h" and "i," are probably of this period.

Mr. Clark attributes the Bloody Tower gate, "m," to this reign, but an entrance existed there long before. Most probably it was remodelled, and the vaulting and portcullis were inserted about this time, or early in the reign of Richard II., to whom he also attributes the rebuilding of the Byward tower postern, "H."

There is but little to record in the way of new works after this. Edward IV., in 1472, built an advanced work, called the Bulwark Gate, "A," and nothing further transpires till the reign of Henry VIII., who ordered a survey of the dilapidations to be made in 1532. The repairs of this period, being mostly in brickwork and rough cast, with flint chips inserted in the joints of the masonry, are easily recognised, as are those of Wren by his use of Portland stone.

The buildings of the old palace being much out of repair, the quaint old timber-framed dwelling, "n," adjoining the Bell tower, "a," was built about this time. It is now called the "Lieutenant's Lodgings," but was first known as the "King's House." It contains a curious monument commemorating the Gunpowder Plot of 1605, of which it gives an account, and enumerates the names of the conspirators, and of the Commissioners by whom they were tried.

The quaint storehouses of the Tudor period were replaced in the reign of William III. by an unsightly building, destroyed by fire in 1841, the site of which is now occupied by the Wellington barracks.

The old palace buildings have long since vanished entirely. Towers have been rebuilt or restored, and in 1899 a new guard house has been built between Wakefield tower, "l," and the south-west angle of the keep. The hideously ugly effect of its staring new red brick in contrast with the old and time-worn stone of the ancient fortress must be seen to be realized, its sole redeeming feature being the impossibility of future generations mistaking it for a building of any earlier period. During the clearance of the site for its erection, two discoveries were made--one of a Norman well, "w," which was found to have its top completely hidden by modern brickwork; the other, a remarkable subterranean passage, "9," of which the presence was only detected by its being accidentally broken into. This, when cleared out, was found to terminate in a horrible subterranean prison pit under the south-west angle of the keep (with which, however, it has no means of communication), that doubtless served as the _oubliette_ of the Tower. The pit was empty, but the passage was found to contain bones, fragments of glass and pottery, broken weapons, and many cannon balls of iron, lead, and stone, relics probably of Wyatt's unsuccessful attack in 1554. Leaving the pit, the passage dips rapidly, and, tunnelling under both wards and their walls, emerges a little to the east of Traitors' Gate (see plan), where its arched head may now be seen from the wharf, though formerly several feet below the level of the water in the moat. As it traverses the site of the Hall, there is some reason to suppose that the lower end served as a sewer, for there was a similar one, dating from 1259, at the old Palace of Westminster, so that this may likewise be attributed to Henry III.[56]

It will be seen that the blood-curdling description of the horrors of the rat-pit in Harrison Ainsworth's immortal romance is by no means devoid of some foundation of fact, though when he wrote its existence was unknown. Rats from the river would be attracted to the sewer mouth by the garbage from the palace kitchens, and if any wretched prisoner had been placed in this dreadful dungeon he would speedily have been devoured _alive_![57]

The presence of a single subterranean passage at the Tower ought not to have aroused so much surprise, for such "_souterrains_" were a not infrequent feature of the mediæval fortress. They may be found at Arques, Chateau Gaillard, Dover, Winchester, and Windsor (three), while Nottingham has its historic "Mortimer's Hole." Sometimes they led to carefully masked posterns in the ditches, but they were generally carried along and at the base of the interior faces of the curtain walls, with the object of preventing attempts at undermining, at once betrayed to listeners by the dull reverberations of pickaxes in the rocky ground. There were doubtless others at the Tower, now blocked up and forgotten; indeed, Bayley mentions something of the kind as existing between the Devereux and Flint towers.[58]

There is an allusion to them in the narrative by Father Gerard, S.J., of his arrest, torture in, and escape from the Tower in 1597;[59] but the history of the many illustrious captives who have suffered within these walls would in itself suffice for a large volume, while so much, and from so many pens, has already been written thereon, that I have contented myself with few allusions thereto, and those necessarily of the briefest.

It is much to be regretted that military exigencies have rendered it needful to remove from the walls of the various prison cells many interesting inscriptions with which their inmates strove to beguile the monotony of captivity, and as far as possible to concentrate them in the upper room within the Beauchamp tower, with which many of them have no historic association whatever; but as the public would otherwise have been debarred from any sight of them, this is far from being the unmixed evil it might otherwise appear, while they have been fully illustrated and carefully described by Bayley.

About the time of Edward I. a Mint was first established in the western and northern portions of the outer bailey, where it remained until, in 1811, it was removed to the New Mint in East Smithfield, and the name "Mint Street," given to that portion of the bailey, now commemorates this circumstance.

When, about 1882, the extension of the "Inner Circle" Railway was in progress, the site of the permanent scaffold on Great Tower Hill, upon which so many sanguinary executions took place, was discovered in Trinity Square, remains of its stout oak posts being found imbedded in the ground. A blank space, with a small tablet in the grass of the Square garden, now marks the spot.

In a recent work upon the Tower, an amazing theory has been seriously put forward "of State barges entering the ditch, rowing onto a kind of submerged slipway at the Cradle tower, when, _mirabile dictu_, boat and all were to be lifted out of the water and drawn into the fortress!" Such things are only possible in the vivid imagination of a writer devoid of the most elementary knowledge of the purpose for which this gateway was designed. It suffices to point out that no long State barge could have entered the ditch without first performing the impossible feat of sharply turning two corners at right angles in a space less than its own length, and too confined to allow oars to be used, while there are no recorded instances of such mediæval equivalents of the modern floating and depositing dock! The Cradle tower gate is too short and narrow to admit any such a lift with a large boat upon it, nor does it contain the slightest trace of anything of the kind, or of the machinery necessary for its working. Although prior to the restoration in 1867 there were side openings to Traitors' Gate as well as that from the river, not only were they too low and narrow to admit a boat, but they were fitted with sluice gates for the retention of the water in the moat when the tide was out, which were used until, in 1841, the moat itself was drained and levelled, and the Thames excluded by a permanent dam. The Cradle tower was, as already stated, a postern, leading from the wharf to the Royal Palace, and derived its name from its cradle or drawbridge that here spanned the waters of the moat.

When, in the time of Henry VIII. and his successors, the water gate, "I," ceased to be a general entrance, and was only used as a landing-place for State prisoners on their way to and from trial at Westminster, it first received the less pleasing appellation it still bears of "Traitors' Gate."

The procedure when the Queen or any distinguished person visited the Tower by water was as follows: They alighted from the State barge at the Queen's stairs, "Q," on the river face of the quay, "O," and traversing this on foot or in a litter, entered the Tower by the Cradle tower postern, "K," which afforded the readiest and most direct access to the Palace in the inner ward, while it was entirely devoid of any sinister associations.

In conclusion, it only remains for me to express my thanks to the Major of the Tower, Lieutenant-General Sir George Bryan Milman, K.C.B., for the permission so courteously accorded to visit and examine portions of the fortress closed to the general public, and to the officials of the Tower for facilities kindly afforded me to do so on several occasions.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The _Saxon Chronicle_ (Thorpe), vol. i., pp. 156, 157. (Subsequently cited as "_Sax. Chron._").

[2] _Ibid._, vol. i., pp. 240, 241, 262, 263, 280, 281.

[3] _Archæologia_, vol. lii., p. 615.

[4] See dotted line on plan.

[5] "The Conqueror's Footsteps in Domesday." _English Historical Review_, vol. xiii., p. 17.

[6] _Sax. Chron._, vol. i., p. 339.

[7] Orderic Vitalis, _History of England and Normandy_, book iv., chap. i.

[8] _Norman Conquest_ (Freeman), vol. v., Appendix N., "Castles and Destruction in the Towns."

[9] _Introduction to Domesday Book_ (Ellis), vol. i., pp. 116-122.

[10] _Sax. Chron._, vol. i., p. 351.

[11] The _Custumale Roffense_ (Thorpe), p. 128; the _Registrant Roffense_ (Thorpe), p. 481.

[12] "Conventios inter Gundulfum Episcopum et Eadmerum Anhoende Burgensem Lundoniae. Dum idem Gundulfus ex praecepto Regis Wilhelm magni _præsset operi magnae turris Lundoniae_ et hospitatus fuisset apud ipsum Eadmerum," etc., from the _Registrum Roffense_ (Thorpe), p. 32.

[13] The present entrances on the north face of the keep are entirely modern.

[14] _Sax. Chron._, vol. i., p. 363.

[15] The "turris," or keep, of Colchester is referred to in a charter of Henry I. in 1101, which recites that the King's father and brother had previously held the castle.

[16] _Anglia Sacra_, vol. i., p. 338.

[17] Stow's _Survey of London_, "Of Towers and Castles."

[18] _Norman Conquest_ (Freeman), vol. iii., Appendix, note PP.

[19] William of Malmesbury's _English Chronicle_, book v.; and _Sax. Chron._, vol. i., p. 365.

[20] _Orderic Vitalis_, book x., chapter xvii.; and _William of Malmesbury_, book v., chapter i.

[21] _Norman Conquest_ (Freeman), vol. ii., ch. viii., pp. 189, 190, "The vengeance of Duke William on the men of Alençon."

[22] _Geoffrey de Mandeville_ (J. H. Round), p. 89 and p. 334.

[23] The kitchens of the period were usually situated at no great distance from the Hall, and were in general of very slight construction; frequently they were only wooden-framed buildings, with walls of wattle and daub, and thatched roofs, hence the need for the continual repairs that figure so numerously in the early records.

[24] _Mediæval Military Architecture_ (G. T. Clark), vol. ii., p. 257.

[25] "Norwich Castle" (A. Hartshorne, F.S.A.), _The Archæological Journal_, vol. xlvi., pp. 264, 265.

[26] Stubbs's _Introductions to the Rolls Series_, edited by Hassall, p. 221.

[27] The total cost of erecting Chateau Gaillard des Andelys amounted to £42,361 14s. 4d., according to the _Roll of the Norman Exchequer_ for 1198 (edited by T. Stapleton; vol. ii., pp. 309, 310 _et seq._), a sum which compares very well with the equally great outlay upon the works at London in 1191.

[28] _Archæologia_, vol. lx., p. 239.

[29] Roger of Wendover's _Chronicle_ (Bohn's edition), vol. ii., p. 100, and Roger de Hoveden's _Annals_, _ibid._, vol. ii., p. 137, sub. 1190 ad.

[30] _Manuel d'Archæologie Française_ (Enlart), vol. ii., section xi., pp. 497-500.

[31] "The Norman Origin of Cambridge Castle," W. H. St. John Hope, _Cambridge Antiquarian Society's Communications_, vol. xi., p. 340.

[32] _Exchequer Accounts Roll_, 3/15, 5 Edward I.

[33] _Peel: Its Meaning and Derivation._ George Neilson, F.S.A.Scot.

[34] In the ruins of the Palace of the Archbishops of York at Southwell, in Nottinghamshire, one of the wall turrets used as a latrine chamber, or garderobe, has just such an arrangement for the drain as that above mentioned.--_English Domestic Architecture_ (Turner & Parker), vol. ii., p. 114.

[35] Matthew Paris's _English History_ (Bohn's edition), vol. i., pp. 166, 315, 326.

[36] Also known as "Galighmaes, or Galleyman's," Tower, but the nomenclature of the various towers has been greatly changed at various times.

[37] William of Malmesbury's _English Chronicle_ (Bohn's edition), p. 443, sub. 1119 ad.

[38] _Liberate Rolls_, 37 & 39 Henry III., m. 5 and m. 11.

[39] _Ibid._

[40] Many curious particulars of this menagerie are to be found in Maitland's _History of London_, vol. i., p. 172 _et seq._ In 1754 there were two great apes called "the man tygers" (probably orang-outangs), one of which killed a boy by throwing a cannon ball at him!

[41] _Liberate Roll_, 24 Henry III., at Westminster, February 24th (1240).

[42] _Liberate Roll_, 25 Henry III., m. 20, at Windsor, December 10th.

[43] Matthew Paris, _ut supra_, vol. i., p. 488.

[44] _Close Roll_, 21 Henry III., m. 11; and _ibid._ 37 Henry III., m. 2; also _The Ancren Riwle_ (Camden Society), pp. 142, 143.

[45] _Liber Albus_ (Riley), folio 273 b., E 35, p. 477.

[46] _Close Roll_, 35 Henry III., m. 11.

[47] _Close Roll_, 9 Henry III., p. 2, m. 9. The Close Rolls were so called because they contained matters of a private nature, and were folded or closed up, in contradistinction to the Patent Rolls which (being addressed to all persons impartially) were left open, with the Great Seal affixed to the lower edge.

[48] _Issue Roll_, 19 Edward I., at Westminster, November 30th.

[49] Accounts of Ralph de Sandwich, Constable of the Tower, 17 to 29 Edward I. Army Accounts in the Public Record Office.

[50] _Close Roll_, 10 Edward I., m. 5.

[51] _Exchequer Q.R. Memoranda_, 26 Edward I., m. 109, and _Privy Seals_, Tower, 33 Edward I., file 4.

[52] _Memorials of Westminster Abbey_ (Stanley) (second edition), chap. v., pp. 413, 415.

[53] _Placita. Coram Rege. Roll_, 17 Edward II., p. 2, m. 37.

[54] _Archæologia_, vol. xxxii., "The Early Use of Gunpowder in the English Army," pp. 379-387.

[55] _History of the Tower of London_ (John Bayley, F.S.A.) (first edition), vol. i., Appendix, pp. 1, 4.

[56] _Issues of the Exchequer_ (F. Devon), pp. 43, 74; Expense Roll for works at Westminster Palace, 43 Henry III.

[57] _The Tower of London_ (Harrison Ainsworth), book ii., ch. xi.

[58] _History of the Tower_ (Bayley), vol. i., p. 179.

[59] _History of the Jesuits in England_ (Taunton), ch. vii., p. 166.

ST. BARTHOLOMEW THE GREAT, SMITHFIELD

BY J. TAVENOR-PERRY

Anyone now visiting the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, after a lapse of fifty years, would scarcely recognize in the present stately building the woe-begone and neglected place of his recollections. In the apse and the transepts, in the lofty screen to the west of the stalls, suggesting a hidden nave beyond, and in the glimpses of the Lady Chapel across the eastern ambulatory, he would see the completed choir of some collegiate church, of which the principal architectural features suggested an ancient foundation. It is true that, in the church of fifty years ago, the Norman details were still very distinct, though the round arches of the arcades had been parodied by the Georgian windows of the east end, and by the plastered romanesque reredos; but gloom and darkness overspread the whole place, encroachments of the most incongruous kinds had invaded the most sacred portions, and to the casual observer it seemed impossible that the church could ever be rescued from the ruin with which it was threatened, or reclaimed from the squalor by which it was surrounded.

To understand the difficulties which lay before the restorers, who, in 1863, commenced the task of saving the building from annihilation, and to properly appreciate what they have achieved, as well as what they only aimed at accomplishing, it is necessary to give some account of the state of the fabric in that year, and, without repeating at undue length the oft-told tale of its foundation, to give a history of the church during the eight hundred years of its existence.

The founder, both of the priory and of the hospital, was one Rahere, of whom but little is certainly known. Some assume that he was that same Rahere who assisted Hereward in his stand against the Norman invaders of the Cambridgeshire fens, but if so, this did not prevent him, later on, from attaching himself to the court of the Conqueror's son. He is generally described as having been jester to Henry I., and it has been assumed that the nature of his engagement involved a course of life calling for repentance and a pilgrimage. But whatever the reason may have been, he apparently went to Rome in 1120, though the journey at that particular juncture was a very unsafe proceeding. He may, perhaps, have joined himself to the train of Pope Calixtus II., who had just been elected at Cluny, in succession to the fugitive Gelasius II., and who made his journey to Rome in the spring of that year. If so, he arrived in Rome at the very worst season, and like many others who visit the city in the summer, he contracted the usual fever. During his illness, or after his recovery, St. Bartholomew appeared to him in a vision, and directed him, on his return to London, to found a church in his honour, outside the walls, at a place called Smithfield. Although visions and their causes are not always explicable, the association of St. Bartholomew with this dream of Rahere's may, perhaps, be accounted for. The church of S. Bartolommeo all'Isola had been built, a century before Rahere's visit, within the ruined walls of the Temple of Æsculapius, on the island of the Tiber, and Saint had succeeded, in some measure, to the traditional healing-power of the God. In classic times, those who flocked to the shrine generally stayed there for one or two nights, when the healer appeared to them in a vision, and gave them directions for their cure. So, in mediæval times, his successor and supplanter followed the same course, but provided cures for the soul rather than for the body.

Rahere can have lost but little time in hastening home and obtaining from the King a grant of the prescribed land, for we find that within three years of his visit to Rome the church of his new convent was sufficiently advanced for consecration, and presumably the convent itself was ready for occupation. The new priory was designed for the reception of Canons Regular of the Order of St. Augustine, and the reason for the founder's adoption of this Order, apart from the fact that it was somewhat fashionable at this period, may have been partly because his former occupation had particularly fitted him for public speaking, and partly because two, at least, of the men with whom he had been closely associated at Henry's court were themselves members of this order. And it is necessary to bear these facts in mind in considering the never-to-be-determined question of whether the apse of St. Bartholomew's was ever completed by Rahere.

These two friends of the founder's were Richard de Belmeis, Bishop of London, and William de Corbeil, or Corboyle, Archbishop of Canterbury, and they were not only themselves Austin Canons, but were actively engaged in spreading the influence of that order. The Bishop had then recently built the Priory of St. Osyth, in Essex, of which the Archbishop, who had previously been connected with the Priory of Merton, had been the first prior. Moreover, Corbeil, soon after he had received the pallium, obtained permission to suppress the monastery of St. Martin-le-Grand--for monasteries were suppressed in the reign of the first Henry, as well as in the reign of the last--and devote its revenues to building a new priory for Austin Canons, outside the walls of Dover. This priory, known as St. Martin New-work, of which considerable portions remain to this day, presents what may be regarded as a model plan of a church of this order, and consisted of a small square-ended choir, shallow transepts, and a large nave with aisles. From this it is evident that Rahere's building differed most essentially from the recognized type, and the question is, did his friends point out to him his deviation from the almost invariable rule of the Austin Canons to give their churches a square east end in time to enable him to modify his design, or were they able to induce him, after he had completed his apse, to remove the two easternmost piers, and to insert in place of them a square-ended chapel? But to this question no answer has ever been discovered.

_Discovered in 1863._]

_Discovered in 1863._]

At the death of Rahere, in 1143, but a small part of his great scheme had been achieved, of the existing church perhaps no more than the choir to the top of the triforium and the choir aisles; but judging from fragments discovered from time to time, such as the capital to a nook shaft shown in fig. 1, which clearly belong to this period, he had completed other works which have now been destroyed. Perhaps during his life-time the conventual buildings, as was the case at Merton, were mainly of wood, and of a merely temporary character; but it may be assumed that these, together with the cloisters, had been built when the great arch, which formed the entrance to the priory (shown in fig. 2), was completed about the middle of the thirteenth century. The work to the choir and transepts went on gradually, no doubt, without any alteration of design, or only such modifications in the details as resulted from the changes in progress in the style, until their completion, and it is likely that the end of the twelfth century saw the conclusion of that section of the work. The fragment given in fig. 3 is a fair example of this transitional style. In the building of the nave, which was a very important part of the church with the Austin Canons, who sought by their preaching to attract large congregations, some fresh departure in the design was made. Evidence of this can be seen in the east bay of the south side (fig. 4), where an Early English clustered-shaft, with the springing of some groining, standing clear of the older Norman pier, gives an idea of the character of the work of the now destroyed nave. With this building, which was apparently achieved before the close of the thirteenth century, we may regard the priory as finished, having taken over a hundred and fifty years to accomplish.

After a lapse of two hundred years, it is not unlikely that the building had fallen somewhat into a state of dilapidation and for that reason, as well, perhaps, from a desire for improvement and display, large works of alteration and rebuilding were undertaken at the beginning of the fifteenth century. Prior John Walford, of whom little is known, except that he was summoned to a convocation at Oxford in 1407, is credited with the work, which embraced the new east wall to the choir, and perhaps a reredos, the Lady Chapel and chapels, on the north side of the north ambulatory, and the rebuilding of the east walk of the cloisters with rooms above. But although Prior John may have been the agent for carrying out all these works, the initiative was probably due to Roger de Walden, afterwards Bishop of London. This man, who had a most remarkable career, was in some way closely associated with St. Bartholomew's, for his stepmother resided in its vicinity, and he had a brother John, a man of considerable wealth, who is described as an esquire of St. Bartholomew, Smithfield. During the reign of Richard II., Roger de Walden held high and lucrative ecclesiastical appointments, and in 1395 became Dean of York and Treasurer of England, and when Archbishop Arundel was banished from the realm in 1397 for his share in the conspiracy of his brother, Roger was advanced to the See of Canterbury. After the downfall of Richard, Arundel returned to England, and Roger was ousted from his seat; but strange though it may appear, the Archbishop bore him so little ill-will for his usurpation that he induced Henry IV., though with some difficulty, to agree to his nomination to the Bishopric of London at the next voidance of the See. As Bishop of London, he died in 1406, and though he lay in state in his chantry chapel at St. Bartholomew's, it is believed that he was actually buried in St. Paul's Cathedral.

It was during his years of prosperity, and before he had anticipated the honours to which he afterwards succeeded, that he built his chantry chapel in the church with which his early youth was doubtless associated, and tradition, to some extent supported by both architectural and heraldic evidence, has identified the screen in which Rahere's monument is encased as a portion of that chapel. The beautiful canopies and tracery, the character of the carving of the effigy and its attendant figures, and the arms of England emblazoned on one of the shields, all point to a date supporting the tradition, whilst the arms, which seem undoubtedly to be Walden's, displayed on the fourth shield make it improbable that the work can be assigned to any other person.

Of the building carried out at this time, except the screen of the chantry chapel and some portions of the restored cloister, but little remains, and all the evidences which might have enabled us to determine how far the east wall was a restoration, or an entirely new work, were swept away when the apse was rebuilt. That this east wall was not merely a reredos is shown by the fact that the upper part rose clear of the aisles, and was pierced by two large traceried windows in the same position as the Georgian windows which lighted the church in the last century, and it is quite possible that it was only a restoration of an earlier wall, which had been built across the apse so as to make it conform to the Austin Canon rule. The screen of the chantry chapel, the two eastern bays of which have been destroyed, but which is shown complete in our illustration (fig. 5), may have been continued across the east wall, and formed the reredos itself, but all traces of this were effaced in subsequent alterations.

One alteration was made in the choir which very much affected the proportions of the building between the date of its first building and the erection of Rahere's monument. Perhaps because the ground outside the church had become raised by the building operations, which had gone on around it, and the drainage of the interior had become defective, or for some other reason, the floor over all the eastern part was filled in for a depth of nearly three feet, dwarfing considerably the Norman arcades, and burying the bases of the columns; and it was upon this altered level the screen of Bishop Roger de Walden's chantry was built.

Having undergone such extensive repairs the priory received no further alterations until, after another hundred years, William Bolton became prior in 1506. It has been asserted, on what seem very insufficient grounds, that Bolton was the architect of Henry VII.'s Chapel at Westminster; but although this is very improbable, he was associated with those who were engaged on the work, and seems himself to have been disposed to architectural display. He has been credited with very large alterations to the conventual buildings, and the erection of a tower over the crossing; but nearly all traces of his work have disappeared, except a doorway in the south aisle, and the beautiful window in the triforium, overlooking the choir, which is always, known as "Prior Bolton's window," and is distinguished by his rebus, a bolt in a tun, in the centre lower panel, as is shown in the illustration (fig. 6).

Bolton's successor, Robert Fuller, was the last of the priors, and with him is ushered in the era of dissolution and decay, when--

"The ire of a despotic King
Rides forth upon destruction's wing."

The priory was suppressed, and the great nave was deliberately pulled down. But, except that so much of the cloister as adjoined the nave was destroyed with it, no further demolitions took place at that time, and it was only gradually that the conventual buildings, some of which lasted to our own day, were removed. The choir and transepts were preserved to form a parish church, and the area of the destroyed nave became the churchyard. The rest of the buildings were sold by the King to Sir Richard Rich, for the sum of £1,064 11s. 3d., not a large sum considering the area of the site and the extent of the buildings, which included, among others, the prior's lodgings, styled "the Mansion," which had housed so great a man as Prior Bolton.

In Queen Mary's reign the Church resumed possession of the conventual buildings, and they were occupied by the Black Friars, who, it is said, made some attempt to rebuild the nave; but beyond some slight works to be seen in the east cloister, they left no traces of their occupation behind, the sole relic remaining of them being the seal of their head, Father Perryn, the matrix of which has already come into the possession of the church authorities.

With the death of Mary the friars retired, and the choir became, once more, the parish church, and for the next century neglect and decay continued the ruin of the fabric. But with the advent of Laud to the See of London, some attempts were made at reparation. It is said that the steeple had become so ruinous that it had to be taken down, and in 1628 the present brick tower, which stands over what was the easternmost bay of the south aisle of the nave, was erected. Where the ruined steeple stood is not clear, but most probably over the crossing, and as towers were unimportant features in the churches of the Austin Canons, it is likely that it rose but little above the roofs. Another and remarkable erection of this period was the charnel-house at the east end, known as "Purgatory," which was constructed with some attempt to give it a Gothic appearance, and was attached to the reredos wall. This is shown in fig. 7, which illustrates the eastern ambulatory, as it existed before the restoration.

During the great Georgian period considerable work was done to the church, not without some attempt at architectural improvements, unappreciated, however, at a later date. The choir appears to have been re-roofed, the old timbers being partly re-used, but shortened by cutting off the rotten ends, with the result that the pitch of the roof was considerably lowered. To this or to their own decay may be due the destruction of the two great traceried windows at the east end, which were replaced by two wide semi-circular headed windows, which their designers, perhaps, fondly imagined to accord better with the Norman arcades below. Whether the reredos screen had already been destroyed or defaced is uncertain, or whether, as at Southwark, they were content with hacking off the projecting canopies cannot now be determined, but in place of it was erected a vast wooden structure, picturesque from its very ugliness, more suited to the classic taste of the Georgian era. At this time, no doubt, the church was re-pewed, and the great pulpit, with its sounding-board, set up on the north side of the choir.

Among the conventual buildings which had survived to this time, and remained in occupation, was the chapter house, which, with nearly all traces of its antiquity destroyed, and with a gallery erected across its west end, had been converted into a meeting-house for dissenters, the old slype having been made into a vestry. The access to it appears to have been the ancient one through the east cloister, which was also standing perfect at that time. It does not appear to have belonged to any particular sect, but was always known as St. Bartholomew's Chapel, and among those who preached in it was John Wesley, who also occasionally preached and celebrated weddings in the church itself.

In 1830 occurred a great fire, which destroyed this chapel, together with all the upper part of the east cloister, and the greater part of the south transept. Whether the great dormitory, which extended southwards from the transepts, or any part of it, had been left standing seems uncertain, but if so, this fire must have destroyed it. The fine undercroft of the dormitory, which consisted of two vaulted aisles of the Transitional period, remained perfect, and was standing as recently as 1870, when it was ruthlessly, and, apparently, unnecessarily, destroyed to make room for some parochial offices.

Shortly before this fire happened, some small, and not very fortunate, attempt at a restoration was made within the church, which resulted in more loss than gain, as it entailed the complete destruction of any remains of the ancient altar-screen which might have survived the previous alterations. The Georgian reredos which had taken its place was removed, and the east wall was plastered over and ornamented with a blank arcade in cement, which its architect doubtless thought agreed with the Norman features of the church. The Georgian pulpit was removed, and a symmetrical arrangement of two was substituted, recalling the Gospel and Epistle ambones of an ancient Italian church, but lacking their beauty.

Thus, after the vicissitudes of over seven hundred years, the church was reduced to the appearance shown in our illustration (fig. 8), when its restoration was seriously taken in hand in 1863.

The task which the restorers then set themselves to accomplish, and in which they have been eminently successful, seemed at the time well-nigh hopeless. All the conventual buildings, and everything outside the actual walls of the church had been alienated, and, to a great extent, destroyed, and of the church itself but a battered torso remained. The nave had been destroyed at the Dissolution, and its site had become the parish churchyard; the south transept had perished in the fire of 1830, and its unroofed area had also become a burying-ground; whilst the north transept had been gradually encroached upon, no one knew how, and a large part of it was then used as a forge. The desecration of the east end was almost worse. The great Lady Chapel, which had been rebuilt in the fourteenth century, and which had formed part of the assignment to Sir Richard Rich, had been for long employed for trade purposes, being at one time the printing shop in which Benjamin Franklin had worked, and was, in 1863, a factory for fringe. This factory had gradually extended, on the upper floor, over the eastern ambulatory, up to the back of the reredos wall and over the south aisle, so that it was lighted, in part, through Prior Bolton's window from the church itself. This encroachment over the ambulatory shows well in the illustration (fig. 7). The north triforium was the parish school, which, with its noises, interfered with the services of the church, and, with the roughness of its occupants, endangered the safety of the groining below, and of the north wall which then leaned dangerously from the upright. The whole area of the church, which had been raised in the fifteenth century, was filled with graves, many of which were dug below the very foundations of the piers; moisture oozed over the grave-stones and darkness overspread the walls, so that it struck a chill into all who entered it. It was a by-word and a desolation.

In draining the area of the church, in rebuilding the decayed piers, and in bringing up the north wall to the perpendicular, the restorers effected great and substantial improvements, but in lowering the floor to its original Norman level, and in rebuilding the apse as they believed it was first planned, they embarked on extensive operations which were by some regarded not only as unessential, but as going beyond legitimate restoration; in fact, as was pointed out by more than one, it was not unlike an attempt to restore the nave of Winchester Cathedral by clearing out first all the work of William of Wykeham. There was much to be said in favour of lowering the floor, but the building of the apse was open to considerable question, and there is but little doubt that had the restorers commenced the destruction of the east wall at the top, instead of at the bottom, and so discovered the ruins of the great traceried windows, they would have paused in their scheme; but the position of the fringe factory prevented this, and it was only many years after the ambulatory arcade of the apse had been completed that this discovery was made. The question of whether there ought to have been an apse according to Austin Canon rule was not properly considered, but when it was found, after the walls of Purgatory had been removed, that there were no traces of any foundations to the missing central piers, some doubt as to the correctness of the course they were following was necessarily suggested. It was then, however, thought to be too late to alter the plans, the most important part of the east wall having then been destroyed, and the result is that we now have a Norman apse of uncertain authority, crowned with a lofty traceried clerestory, which, though a clever architectural composition, is only a modern makeshift. In place of this, had the fifteenth century east wall been preserved, we should have had in the upper part the two great windows, much of the tracery of which still remains, and beneath them the reredos might have been renewed. In this case the eastern portion of Roger de Walden's screen, with its doorway, would have been saved, and Sir Walter Mildmay's picturesque monument been left intact, making altogether a more beautiful sacrarium, and a much more truthful representation of what had once been, than the doubtful restoration of the rude Norman apse.

In succeeding years the work of restoration went on slowly, but much was achieved. The great schemes of the earlier restorers were wisely reviewed, and reasonable limitations acknowledged. All idea of rebuilding the nave was abandoned, and the rude brick wall which had been built to the west end of the choir was refaced in a seemly but permanent manner. The south transept was rebuilt over a portion only of its former area, and, with the north transept, finished in an appropriate manner which does not pretend to be a literal restoration. In the Lady Chapel, when it was rescued from the fringe factory, much of the old work in the windows was found intact, and a complete restoration had been possible. The continuous work of the last forty years has been crowned with success, and, although portions are evidently modern in design and execution, the choir of St. Bartholomew's Priory Church has been preserved for future generations as an example of the earliest and most important ecclesiastical buildings of London.

THE LONDON CHARTERHOUSE

BY THE REV. A. G. B. ATKINSON, M.A.