Chapter V: Part 5

(3) Perhaps the chief distinguishing mark of half-timber construction is that the bases of the walls are always constructed of materials which are not damaged by damp in the ground; whilst the upper part, comprising the main body of the house, is constructed of dry timbers so arranged as to be free from rain, and none of the timbers were near enough to the ground to be injured by the dampness arising from it. The Anglo-Saxon houses, which are believed to have been timber-built structures, were probably not furnished with foundations and dwarf walls of stone or brick, and for that reason their destruction, by the damp rising from the ground through the interstices of the timbers, was rapid and complete.

The use of half-timber work in the construction of London houses indicates a desire to make the greatest possible use of the space at the disposal of the builder. The repeated use of over-sailing storey above over-sailing storey indicates quite clearly that the idea was not to obtain structural stability so much as additional space.

_Looking to the south-west, and showing the south side of the street._]

There is no aspect of the ancient city of London more picturesque than this constant multiplication of projecting storeys, and perhaps there was no more unwholesome or insanitary plan possible than this, which effectually excluded daylight and fresh air, keeping the streets damp and muddy, and rendering the whole atmosphere unsavoury. Indeed, the constant visitations London received in the form of pestilence is to be referred to this source alone; and much as every one must regret the loss of the picturesque old houses, with their projecting storeys, their irregular gables, and their red roofs, it must be admitted that one of the greatest blessings London ever received, in the direction of sanitary improvement, was the Great Fire of 1666, which swept away the great bulk of the wooden houses in the City.

After the fire, the original arrangement of the streets, as to their general direction, was restored, but of course they were made wider and more commodious. Indeed, it is not difficult to make out much of the course of the ancient wall from an examination of the disposition of the streets as they now exist. Such well-marked thoroughfares as London Wall, Wormwood Street, Camomile Street, Bevis Marks, Jewry Street, Houndsditch, Minories, and others indicate, internally and externally, the course of the wall, and at some points, particularly Trinity Square, London Wall, and Newgate, actual fragments are still visible. As has already been explained, the wall is mainly of Roman workmanship, but its embattled crest, of which a fragment _in situ_ may be seen, was built or renewed in the Middle Ages.

In the wholesale destruction wrought by the Great Fire so much perished, and, as a consequence, so much was rebuilt that one looks in vain for a specimen of a mediæval house constructed of wood within the bounds of the city. It is because of this that Crosby Place, a domestic dwelling of the fifteenth century and of the most important class, was so highly valued, not alone by antiquaries, but by all who love mediæval London.

Until a comparatively recent date there were some wooden houses covered with weather-boarding at Cripplegate. These were examples of the type of house erected immediately after the Great Fire. Others, somewhat less picturesque, still remain between Cannon Street and the river.

A remarkable group of timber houses, presumably of about the same date, exists in and immediately adjacent to the narrow street at Smithfield known as the Cloth Fair. Although they present no particular feature of architectural merit, they remain as an extremely interesting group of old wooden houses with over-sailing storeys and picturesque gables. The street, by reason of its very narrowness, looks old, and, notwithstanding the various reparations and rebuildings which have been carried out at the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, and in spite of the many other changes which have been carried out in the neighbourhood, the Cloth Fair remains to-day a veritable "bit" of old London as it was pretty generally in the seventeenth century.

The accompanying views, reproduced from recent photographs, represent the general appearance of the houses, although it is somewhat difficult to get anything like a clear picture in such a dark and narrow street.

A little way out of the City we have the remarkably picturesque half-timbered buildings of Staple Inn; and in the Strand, near the entrance to the Temple, there was once a group of wooden houses, one of which, popularly called Cardinal Wolsey's Palace, has been rescued from destruction, thanks to the action of the London County Council.

_The north-east end of the street._]

OLD ST. PAUL'S

No account of mediæval London, however brief and partial, could be considered adequate which did not include some reference to Old St. Paul's. One of the greatest glories of London in the old days was its cathedral church, which, in contradistinction from the earlier edifice and from that which has superseded it, we now familiarly designate "Old St. Paul's."

It must have been a church calculated to inspire the admiration, veneration, and pride of Londoners. Its lofty spire, covered with ornamental lead, rose high above every other building near it. It dominated the City and all the surrounding district. The spire itself was over two hundred feet high, and, perched upon a lofty tower, it rose about five hundred feet into the blue sky. The few old views which give a picture of St. Paul's before the storm of 1561 clearly show the magnificent proportions of the spire.

At the east end, a most beautiful and well-proportioned composition was the famous rose-window, forty feet in diameter, referred to as a familiar object by Chaucer.

The magnificent Norman nave, which well deserved admiration on account of its architectural merit, acquired even greater celebrity under the designation of Paul's Walk as a famous meeting-place and promenade of fashionable folk.

Here bargaining and dealing were carried on openly and unchecked. Many English writers refer to this extraordinary desecration of a consecrated building, and from them we learn that the trading carried on in Paul's Walk included simony and chaffering for benefices. Chaucer, in the prologue to his _Canterbury Tales_, when describing the parson, writes:--

"He sette not his Benefice to hire,
And lette his shepe accombred in the mire,
And ran unto London, unto S. Paules
To seken him a Chanterie for soules,
Or with a Brotherhede to be withold
But dwelt at home, and kept well his folde."

The expression "to dine with Duke Humphrey," applied to persons who, being unable either to procure a dinner by their own money or from the favour of their friends, walk about and loiter during the dinner-time, had its origin in one of the aisles of St. Paul's, which was called Duke Humphrey's Walk: not that there ever was in reality a cenotaph there to the Duke's memory, who, as everyone knows, was buried at St. Albans, in Hertfordshire, but because, says Stow, ignorant people mistook the fair monument of Sir John Beauchamp, who died in 1358, and which was in the south side of the body of the church, for that of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester.

_Looking to the south-west, and showing the north side of the street._]

Perhaps one of the most vivid pictures, although it has certainly some unnatural colouring, is that given in _The Gull's Horne-Booke_, a satirical work published in London in 1609. Under the heading of "How a Gallant should behave himselfe in Powles-Walkes," one of the chapters gives some details of the place. The following extracts are perhaps the most important:--

"Now for your venturing into the Walke, be circumspect and wary
what pillar you come in at, and take heede in any case (as you
love the reputation of your honour) that you avoid the
_Seruingmans_ logg, and approach not within five fadom of that
Piller; but bend your course directly in the middle line, that
the whole body of the Church may appeare to be yours; where, in
view of all, you may publish your suit in what manner you
affect most, either with the slide of your cloake from the one
shoulder, and then you must (as twere in anger) suddenly snatch
at the middle of the inside (if it be taffata at the least) and
so by that meanes your costly lining is betroyed, or else by
the pretty advantage of Complement. But one note by the way do
I especially wooe you to, the neglect of which makes many of
our Gallants cheape and ordinary, that by no meanes you be
seene above foure turnes; but in the fifth make yourselfe away,
either in some of the Sempsters' shops, the new tobacco-office,
or amongst the booke-sellers, where, if you cannot reade,
exercise your smoake, and enquire who has writ against this
divine weede, etc. For this withdrawing yourselfe a little,
will much benefite your suit, which else, by too long walking,
would be stale to the whole spectators: but howsoever if Powles
Jacks bee once up with their elbowes, and quarrelling to strike
eleven, as soone as ever the clock has parted them, and ended
the fray with his hammer, let not the Duke's gallery contain
you any longer, but passe away apace in open view.

* * * * *

"All the diseased horses in a tedious siege cannot show so many
fashions, as are to be seene for nothing, everyday, in _Duke
Humfryes walke_. If therefore you determine to enter into a
new suit, warne your Tailor to attend you in Powles, who, with
his hat in his hand, shall like a spy discover the stuffe,
colour, and fashion of any doublet, or hose that dare to be
seene there, and stepping behind a piller to fill his
table-bookes with those notes, will presently send you into the
world an accomplisht man: by which meanes you shall weare your
clothes in print with the first edition. But if Fortune favour
you so much as to make you no more than a meere gentleman, or
but some three degrees removd from him (for which I should be
very sorie, because your London experience wil cost you deere
before you shall have ye wit to know what you are) then take
this lesson along with you: The first time that you venture
into Powles, passe through the Body of the Church like a
Porter, yet presume not to fetch so much as one whole turn in
the middle Ile, no nor to cast an eye to _Si quis doore_ (pasted
and plaistered up with Servingmens _supplications_) before you
have paid tribute to the top of Powles _steeple_ with a single
penny: And when you are mounted there, take heede how you looke
downe into the yard; for the railes are as rotten as your
great-Grand father; and thereupon it will not be amisse if you
enquire how _Kit Woodroffe_ durst vault over, and what reason
he had for it, to put his neck in hazard of reparations.

* * * * *

"The great dyal is your last monument: there bestow some half
of the threescore minutes.... Besides, you may heere have fit
occasion to discover your watch, by taking it forth and setting
the wheeles to the time of Powles, which, I assure you, goes
truer by five notes than _S. Sepulchres_ Chimes. The benefit
that wil arise from hence is this yt you publish your charge in
maintaining a gilded clocke; and withall the world shall know
that you are a time-pleaser."

PAUL'S CROSS

This interesting open-air pulpit stood on a site near the north-eastern angle of the choir of the cathedral church. It was used not only for the instruction of mankind, by the doctrine of the preacher, but for every purpose political or ecclesiastical--for giving force to oaths; for promulgating laws, or rather royal pleasure; for the emission of papal bulls; for anathematising sinners; for benedictions; for exposing penitents under censure of the Church; for recantations; for the private ends of the ambitious; and for the defaming of those who had incurred the displeasure of crowned heads.

The Society of Antiquaries of London possesses an interesting painted diptych, showing two views of Old St. Paul's on one side, and another, in which the cathedral church occupies only a minor place, on the other side.

One of those three pictures is of peculiar value for the present purpose inasmuch as it gives a vivid and, in a way, realistic representation of Paul's Cross and its surroundings in the year 1620. There are certain features in the picture which are obviously inaccurate. The view which is taken from the north-west of the cathedral is, for example, made to include the great east window of the choir by, as Sir George Scharf remarked, "an unwarrantable straining of the laws of perspective." Again, the nave and choir are improperly made to appear shorter than the north and south transepts. But with regard to the cross itself, which forms the chief object in the foreground, the details are represented in a manner and with a completeness which suggest accuracy.

The representation of the actual cross is probably the best in existence, and has furnished the data upon which artists have largely depended in the various attempts to reconstruct the great historical scenes which took place long ago at Paul's Cross. The pulpit proper was covered by a rather gracefully shaped roof of timber covered with lead and bearing representations of the arms of Bishop Kempe at various points. Above the roof, and indeed rising out of it, was a large and slightly ornamental cross. The brickwork enclosing the cross, which is known to have been erected in 1595, is clearly shown in the picture.

So numerous are the great public events which have taken place at Paul's Cross that it is not possible to give details of them in this article.

The date of the demolition of Paul's Cross is stated by Dugdale to have been 1643, but the late Canon Sparrow Simpson produced evidence which clearly proves that it was pulled down before 1641, and probably before 1635. In the charge-books of the cathedral there is an entry under June, 1635, which shows that labourers were employed in carrying away "the lead, timber, etc., that was pull'd downe of the roomes where the Prebends of the Church, the Doctors of the Law, and the Parishioners of St. Ffaith's did sett to heare sermons at St. Paul's Crosse." Succeeding entries in the same volume render it highly probable that the cross had previously been taken down, and that preparations were being made for its re-erection.

The Great Fire probably destroyed any other traces which may then have been remaining of this extremely interesting old preaching-cross. The foundations alone have been preserved. These were discovered by the late Mr. C. F. Penrose, the surveyor to the cathedral, in the year 1879, and they are now indicated by an octagonal outline of stones on the ground-level close to the north-east corner of the present cathedral church.

Steps are now being taken to build another cross on the site of Paul's Cross, a legacy of five thousand pounds having been left for that purpose by the late H. C. Richards, M.P.

FOOTNOTES:

[71] See introduction to the _Catalogue of the Anglo-Jewish Historical Exhibition_, 1887.

[72] See Coote's _The Romans of Britain_ and Gomme's _The Governance of London_.

THE LIVES OF THE PEOPLE

BY THE EDITOR

A study of contemporary documents enables us to picture to ourselves the appearance of Old London in mediæval times, and to catch a glimpse of the manners and customs of the people and the lives they led. The regulations of the city authorities, the letter-books, journals, and repertories preserved in the Record Room at Guildhall, which show an unbroken record of all events and transactions--social, political, ecclesiastical, legal, military, naval, local, and municipal--extending over a period of six centuries; the invaluable _Liber Albus_ of the city of London; the history and regulations of the Guilds; the descriptions of Stow, Fitzstephen, and others--all help to enable us to make a sketch of the London of the Middle Ages, which differs very widely from the city so well known to us to-day.

The dangers of sieges and wars were not yet over, and the walls of Old London were carefully preserved and guarded. The barons in John's time adopted a ready means for repairing them. They broke into the Jews' houses, ransacked their coffers, and then repaired the walls and gates with stones taken from their broken houses. This repair was afterwards done in more seemly wise at the common charges of the city. Some monarchs made grants of a toll upon all wares sold by land or by water for the repair of the wall. Edward IV. paid much attention to the walls, and ordered Moorfields to be searched for clay in order to make bricks, and chalk to be brought from Kent for this purpose. The executors of Sir John Crosby, the wealthy merchant and founder of Crosby Place, also did good service, and placed the knight's arms on the parts that they repaired. The City Companies also came to the rescue, and kept the walls in good order.

_From an old print._]

Within these walls the pulse of the city life beat fast. The area enclosed was not large, only about the size of Hyde Park, but it must have been the busiest spot on earth; there was life and animation in every corner. In the city the chief noblemen had houses, or inns, as they were called, which were great buildings capable of housing a large retinue. We read of Richard, Duke of York, coming in 1457 to the city with four hundred men, who were lodged in Baynard's Castle; of the Earl of Salisbury with five hundred men on horseback lodging in the Herber, a house at Dowgate belonging to the Earl of Warwick, who himself stayed with six hundred men at his inn in Warwick Lane, where, says Stow, "there were oftentimes six oxen eaten at a breakfast." Eight hundred men were brought by the Dukes of Exeter and Somerset, and one thousand five hundred by the Earl of Northumberland, the Lord Egremont, and the Lord Clifford. The houses of these noble owners have long since disappeared, but the memory of them is recorded by the names of streets, as we shall attempt to show in a subsequent chapter. Even in Stow's time, who wrote in 1598, they were ruinous, or had been diverted from their original uses. The frequent visits of these noble persons must have caused considerable excitement in the city, and provided abundant employment for the butchers and bakers.

The great merchants, too, were very important people who had their fine houses, of which the last surviving one was Crosby Hall, which we shall describe presently, a house that has been much in the minds of the citizens of London during the present year. Stow says that there were many other houses of the same class of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and that they were "builded with stone and timber." In such houses, which had a sign swinging over the door, the merchant and his family lived and dined at the high table in the great hall, his 'prentices and servants sitting in the rush-strewn "marsh," as the lower portion of the hall was anciently named. These apprentices played an important part in the old city life. They had to serve for a term of seven years, and then, having "been sworn of the freedom" and enrolled on the books of the city, they were allowed to set up their shop or follow their trade. They were a lively, turbulent class of young men, ever ready to take to their weapons and shout "Clubs! Clubs!" whereat those who lived in one merchant's house would rush together and attack the apprentices of a rival merchant, or unite forces and pursue the hated "foreigners"--_i.e._, those who presumed to trade and had not been admitted to the freedom of the city. Boys full of high spirits, they were ever ready to join in a fight, to partake in sports and games, and even indulged in questionable amusements--frequented taverns and bowling alleys, played dice and other unlawful games, for which misdemeanours they were liable to receive a good flogging from their masters and other punishments. They had a distinctive dress, which changed with the fashions, and at the close of the mediæval period they were wearing blue cloaks in summer, and in winter blue coats or gowns, their stockings being of white broadcloth "sewed close up to their round slops or breeches, as if they were all but of one piece." Later on, none were allowed to wear "any girdle, point, garters, shoe-strings, or any kind of silk or ribbon, but stockings only of woollen yarn or kersey; nor Spanish shoes; nor hair with any tuft or lock, but cut short in decent and comely manner." If an apprentice broke these rules, or indulged in dancing or masking, or "haunting any tennis court, common bowling alley, cock-fighting, etc., or having without his master's knowledge any chest, trunk, etc., or any horse, dog or fighting-cock," he was liable to imprisonment. Chaucer gives an amusing picture of the fondness of the city apprentices for "ridings"--_i.e._, for the processions and pageants which took place when a king or queen entered the city in state, and such like joyful occasions--and for similar diversions:

"A prentis whilom dwelt in our Citie,
And of a craft of vitaillers was he;
At every bridale would he sing and hoppe;
He loved bet the taverne than the shoppe.
For whan ther any riding was in chepe,
Out of the shoppe thither would he lepe,
And till that he all the sight ysein,
And danced well, he would not come agein;
And gathered him a many of his sort,
To hoppe and sing, and maken such disport."

The presence of large companies of these somewhat boisterous youths must have added considerable life and animation to the town.

We have seen the noble in his town house, the merchant in his fine dwelling. Let us visit the artizan and small tradesman. The earliest historian of London, Fitzstephen, tells us that the two great evils of his time were "the immoderate drinking of foolish persons and the frequent fires." In early times the houses were built of wood, roofed with straw or stubble thatch. Hence when a single house caught fire, the conflagration spread, as in the reign of Stephen, when a fire broke out at London Bridge; it spread rapidly, destroyed St. Paul's, and extended as far as St. Clement Danes. Hence in the first year of Richard I. it was enacted that the lower story of all houses in the city should be built with stone, and the roof covered with thick tiles. The tradesman or artizan had a small house with a door, and a window with a double shutter arrangement, the upper part being opened and turned outwards, forming a penthouse, and the lower a stall. Minute regulations were passed as to the height of the penthouse, which was not to be less than nine feet, so as to enable "folks on horseback to ride beneath them," and the stall was not to project more than two and a half feet. In this little house the shoemaker, founder, or tailor lived and worked; and as you passed down the narrow street, which was very narrow and very unsavoury, with an open drain running down the centre, you would see these busy townsfolk plying their trades and making a merry noise.

A very amusing sketch of the appearance of London at this period, and of the manners of the inhabitants, is given in Lydgate's _London's Lickpenny_. A poor countryman came to London to seek legal redress for certain grievances. The street thieves were very active, for as soon as he entered Westminster his hood was snatched from his head in the midst of the crowd in broad daylight. In the streets of Westminster he was encountered by Flemish merchants, strolling to and fro, like modern pedlars, vending hats and spectacles, and shouting, "What will you buy?" At Westminster Gate, at the hungry hour of mid-day, there were bread, ale, wine, ribs of beef, and tables set out for such as had wherewith to pay. He proceeded on his way by the Strand, at that time not so much a street as a public road connecting the two cities, though studded on each side by the houses of noblemen; and, having entered London, he found it resounding with the cries of peascods, strawberries, cherries, and the more costly articles of pepper, saffron, and spices, all hawked about the streets. Having cleared his way through the press, and arrived at Cheapside, he found a crowd much larger than he had as yet encountered, and shopkeepers plying before their shops or booths, offering velvet, silk, lawn, and Paris thread, and seizing him by the hand that he might turn in and buy. At London-stone were the linendrapers, equally clamorous and urgent; while the medley was heightened by itinerant vendors crying "hot sheep's feet, mackerel," and other such articles of food. Our Lickpenny now passed through Eastcheap, which Shakespeare later on associates with a rich supply of sack and fat capons, and there he found ribs of beef, pies, and pewter pots, intermingled with harping, piping, and the old street carols of Julian and Jenkin. At Cornhill, which at that time seems to have been a noted place for the receivers of stolen goods, he saw his own hood, stolen at Westminster, exposed for sale. After refreshing himself with a pint of wine, for which he paid the taverner one penny, he hastened to Billingsgate, where the watermen hailed him with their cry, "Hoo! go we hence!" and charged him twopence for pulling him across the river. Bewildered and oppressed, Master Lickpenny was delighted to pay the heavy charge, and to make his escape from the din and confusion of the great city, resolving never again to enter its portals or to have anything to do with London litigation.

Then there was the active Church life of the city. During the mediæval period, ecclesiastical, social, and secular life were so blended together that religion entered into all the customs of the people, and could not be separated therefrom. In our chapter upon the City Companies we have pointed out the strong religious basis of the Guilds. The same spirit pervaded all the functions of the city. The Lord Mayor was elected with solemn ecclesiastical functions. The holidays of the citizens were the Church festivals and saints' days. In Fitzstephen's time there were no less than one hundred and twenty-six parish churches, besides thirteen great conventual churches. The bells of the churches were continually sounding, their doors were ever open, and the market women, hucksters, artizans, 'prentices, merchants, and their families had continual resort to them for mass and prayer. Strict laws were in force to prevent men from working on saints' days and festivals, and if the wardens or searchers of a company discovered one of their trade, a carpenter, or cobbler, or shoemaker, working away in a cellar or garret, they would soon haul him up before the court of the company, where he would be fined heavily.

The life of the streets was full of animation. Now there would be ridings in the Cheap, the companies clad in gay apparel, the stands crowded with the city dames and damsels in fine array; pageants cunningly devised, besides which even Mr. Louis Parker's display at the last Lord Mayor's procession would have appeared mean and tawdry; while the conduits flowed with wine, and all was merry. Now it is Corpus Christi Day, and there is a grand procession through the streets, which stirs the anger of Master Googe, who thus wrote of what he saw:

Then doth ensue the solemne feast
Of Corpus Christi Day,
Who then can shewe their wicked use
And fond and foolish play.
The hallowed bread with worship great
In silver pix they beare
About the Churche or in the citie,
Passing here and theare.
His armes that beares the same, two of
The wealthiest men do holde:
And over him a canopy
Of silke and clothe of golde.
Christ's passion here derided is
With sundry maskes and playes.
Fair Ursley, with her maydens all
Doth passe amid the wayes.
And valiant George with speare thou killest
The dreadfull dragon here,
The devil's house is drawne about
Wherein there doth appere
A wondrous sort of damned spirites
With foule and fearfull looke.
Great Christopher doth wade and passe
With Christ amid the brooke.
Sebastian full of feathered shaftes
The dint of dart doth feel,
There walketh Kathren with her sworde
In hand and cruel wheele.
The Challis and the Singing Cake
With Barbara is led,
And sundrie other pageants playe
In worship of this bred....
The common wayes with bowes are strawne
And every streete beside,
And to the walles and windows all
Are boughes and braunches tide.
And monkes in every place do roame,
The nunnes abroad are sent,
The priests and schoolmen loud do rore
Some use the instrument.
The straunger passing through the streete
Uppon his knees doth fall,
And earnestly uppon this bred
As on his God, doth calle....
A number grete of armed men
Here all this while do stand,
To look that no disorder be
Nor any filching hand.
For all the church goodes out are brought
Which certainly would be
A bootie good, if every man
Might have his libertie.

Verily Master Googe's fingers itched to carry off some of this "bootie good," but we are grateful to him for giving us such a realistic description of the processions on Corpus Christi Day.

Religious plays were also not infrequent. These the city folk dearly loved. Clerkenwell was a favourite place for their performance, and there the Worshipful Company of the Clerks of London performed some wonderful mysteries. In 1391 A.D. they were acting before the King, his Queen, and many nobles, "The Passion of our Lord and the Creation of the World," a performance which lasted three days. At Skinners' Well, the Company of the Skinners "held there certain plays yearly"; and in 1409 the Clerks performed a great play which lasted eight days, when the most part of the nobles and gentles in England were present. Originally these plays were performed in the churches, but owing to the gradually increased size of the stage, the sacred buildings were abandoned as the scenes of mediæval drama. Then the churchyards were utilised, and in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the people liked to act their plays in the highways and public places as at Clerkenwell, which, owing to the configuration of the ground, was well adapted for the purpose.

Strange scenes of savage punishment attract the attention of the unfeeling crowd in the city streets, who jeer at the sufferers. Here is a poor man drawn upon a hurdle from the Guildhall to his own house. He is a baker who has made faulty bread, and the law states that he should be so drawn through the great streets where most people are assembled, and especially through the great streets that are most dirty (that is especially laid down in the statutes), with the faulty bread hanging from his neck. There stands the pillory, and on it, with head and hands fast, is another baker, who has been guilty of a second offence. Blood is streaming from his face, where cruel stones have hit him, and rotten eggs and filth are hurled at him during the one hour "at least" which he has to remain there.

But there were less savage amusements than the baiting of bakers. Jousts and tournaments periodically created unwonted excitement, as when, in 1389, there was a mighty contest at Smithfield. Froissart tells us that heralds were sent to every country in Europe where chivalry was honoured, to proclaim the time and place, and brave knights were invited to splinter a lance, or wield a sword, in honour of their mistresses. Knights and nobles from far and near assembled. London was thronged with warriors of every clime and language. Smithfield was surrounded with temporary chambers and pavilions, constructed for the accommodation of the King and the princes, the Queen and the maidens of her court; and when the solemnity was about to commence, sixty horses, richly accoutred, were led to the lists by squires, accompanied by heralds and minstrels; after which, sixty ladies followed on palfreys, each lady leading an armed knight by a chain of silver. The first day the games commenced with encounters of the lance, the two most skilful combatants receiving as prizes a golden crown and a rich girdle adorned with precious stones; after which, the night was spent in feasting and dancing. During five days the contest lasted, and each evening called the knights and dames to the same joyous festivities and pastimes. The 'prentices and citizens enjoyed the spectacle quite as much as the combatants, and the young men used to copy their betters and practise feats of war, riding on horseback, and using disarmed lances and shields. Battles, too, were fought on the water, when young men in boats, with lance in rest, charged a shield hung on a pole fixed in the midst of the stream. This sport provided great amusement to the spectators, who stood upon the bridge or wharf and neighbouring houses, especially when the adventurous youths failed and fell into the river. Leaping, dancing, shooting, wrestling, casting the stone, and practising their shields were the favourite amusements of the London youths, while the maidens tripped to the sound of their timbrels, and danced as long as they could well see. In winter, boars were set to fight, bulls and bears were baited, and cock-fighting was the recognised amusement of schoolboys.

When the frost covered the great fen on the north side of the city with ice, good Fitzstephen delighted to watch "the young men play upon the ice; some, striding as wide as they may, do slide swiftly; others make themselves seats of ice as great as millstones; one sits down, many hand in hand do draw him, and one slipping on a sudden, all fall together; some tie bones to their feet and under their heels, and, shoving themselves by a little picked staff, do slide as swiftly as a bird flieth in the air, or as an arrow out of a crossbow. Sometimes two run together with poles, and, hitting one another, either one or both do fall, not without hurt; some break their arms, some their legs; but youth desirous of glory in this sort exerciseth itself against the time of war." Lord Roberts and other patriots would like to see the youth of the present day, not breaking their arms and legs, but exercising themselves against the time of war. The citizens used also to delight themselves in hawks and hounds, for they had liberty of hunting in Middlesex, Hertfordshire, all Chiltron, and in Kent to the water of Cray. The game of quintain, which I need not describe, was much in vogue. Stow saw a quintain at Cornhill, where men made merry disport, and the maidens used to dance for garlands hung athwart the streets. Time would fail to tell of the May-day junketings, of the setting up of the May-pole in Cornhill before the church of St. Andrew, hence called Undershaft; of the Mayings at early dawn, the bringing in of the may, the archers, morris dancers and players, Robin Hood and Maid Marian, the horse races at Smithfield, so graphically described by Fitzstephen, and much else that tells of the joyous life of the people.

Life was not to them all joy. There was much actual misery. The dark, narrow, unsavoury, insanitary streets bred dire fevers and plagues. Thousands died from this dread malady. The homes of the artizans and craftsmen were not remarkable for comfort. They were bound down by strict regulations as regards their work. No one could dwell where he pleased, but only nigh the craftsmen of his particular trade. But, on the whole, the lot of the men of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries was by no means an unhappy one. They were very quick, easily aroused, turbulent, savage in their punishments, brutal perhaps in their sport; but they had many sterling qualities which helped to raise England to attain to her high rank among the nations of the world, and they left behind them sturdy sons and daughters who made London great and their country honoured.

THE TEMPLE

BY THE REV. HENRY GEORGE WOODS, D.D.

_Master of the Temple_

"On the 10th of February in the year from the Incarnation of our Lord 1185, this Church was consecrated in honour of the Blessed Mary by the Lord Heraclius, by the grace of God Patriarch of the Church of the Holy Resurrection, who to those yearly visiting it granted an Indulgence of sixty days off the penance enjoined upon them."

So we may render the ancient Latin inscription, formerly on the wall of the Round Church, which supplies the earliest definite date in the history of the Temple. Originally settled near the Holborn end of Chancery Lane, the Templars had apparently been in occupation of the present site (still called "the _New_ Temple" in formal documents) for some considerable time before the Round Church was consecrated. There is evidence, at any rate, that "the Old Temple" in the parish of St. Andrew's, Holborn, had been sold as a town house for the Bishops of Lincoln before 1163. We must suppose that a temporary church was used during this interval--perhaps St. Clement's, which had been granted to the Order in 1162 by Henry II. The performance of the consecration ceremony by Heraclius, Patriarch of Jerusalem, and the presence at it of Henry II. and his court, show that the headquarters of the Templars in England were felt to be of national importance. Never, indeed, since its foundation were the services of the Order more needed. The Templars in Palestine were being sorely pressed by Saladin, and Heraclius had come to England to obtain help. When absolution for the murder of Thomas à Becket was granted to Henry, he had promised to lead an army into Palestine, as well as to maintain two hundred Templars there at his own cost. This personal service he now found himself unable to perform. Fabyan (died 1513) gives a quaint version of the King's conversation with the Patriarch:

"'I may not wende oute of my lande, for myne own sonnes wyll
aryse agayne me whan I were absente.' 'No wonder,' sayde the
patryarke, 'for of the deuyll they come, and to the deuyll they
shall go,' and so departyd from the kynge in great ire."

Two years later Jerusalem surrendered to Saladin, and Henry, after conferring with the King of France, arranged for the collection of a "Saladin tithe" to meet the cost of the new crusade.

"The poor fellow-soldiers of Jesus Christ of the Temple of Solomon"--for such was the full designation of the Templars in commemoration of the quarters assigned them within the area of the former Jewish Temple--naturally had their thoughts turned towards Jerusalem, wherever they were stationed. The design of the church which Heraclius consecrated was determined by the circular chapel which stood on the site of the Old Temple in Holborn, and the prototype of both buildings was the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, with which English Templars must have been familiar from the earliest days of the Order. The travels of Templars and Crusaders undeniably influenced English architecture. One such influence we find in the constructive use of the pointed arch, which is said to have been introduced about 1125 from the South of France--a route which Norman Crusaders frequently followed. For many years after that date pointed and round arches were used almost indifferently in Norman work, so that the strongly pointed arches of the Round Church are not in themselves decisive of the date of the building. It is not till about 1170 that the real transition from Norman to Early English can be said to have begun. In the interior of the Round Church this movement is in full swing. The lower arcade has been inaccurately restored and must not be taken as evidence, but in the decorative band of arcading on the upper wall which frames the openings into the triforium we see how the intersection of two semi-circular arches gives the pure lancet form. The crucial point, however, is the absence of the massive Romanesque columns which invariably mark true Norman work. In their place we have columns of comparative slenderness, each consisting of four almost insulated shafts of Purbeck marble, two smaller and two larger. These columns must be among the earliest examples of their kind in England. There is a somewhat similar treatment (two shafts only, as originally designed) in the Galilee of Durham Cathedral, built a few years later, whereas in the choir of Canterbury Cathedral, which was rebuilt only a few years before 1185, the Romanesque columns are still retained, though the style of the capitals is modified.

The historical interest of the church is not confined to its architecture. The eight small half-length figures between the capitals outside the west door, though sadly defaced and only reproductions of the originals, stand in close relation to the consecration ceremony. In 1783, according to a writer in the _Gentleman's Magazine_, they were "very perfect," and were believed to represent on the north side Henry II. with three Knights Templars, and on the opposite side Queen Eleanor with Heraclius and two other ecclesiastics. This identification is in the main correct. The king and queen are farthest from the door. He is holding a sceptre, or possibly a roll containing a grant to the Order. One of the figures by his side--it is difficult to see whether they are bearded, as Knights Templars would have been--is certainly holding a roll, perhaps the royal licence for the building of the church. Others have their hands folded in prayer.

The unique and most successfully restored series of nine marble effigies on the floor of the church is also of great antiquity. Six are cross-legged, but not necessarily on that account to be regarded as Crusaders. One of them has been supposed to represent the notorious Geoffrey de Magnaville, Earl of Essex, who died excommunicate in 1144, ten years before the accession of Henry II. Three others probably represent William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke (died 1219), Protector of England during the minority of Henry III., and his two sons, William (died 1231) and Gilbert (died 1241). The figure which lies apart cannot be older than the latter half of the thirteenth century, and according to tradition is a Lord de Ros. Of the others nothing is known. It seems certain, however, that the series contains no effigy of an actual Knight of the Order, since none of the figures are represented as wearing the red cross mantle. Men of wealth and position were often admitted to the privileges of the Order without taking the vows, under the title of "Associates of the Temple." The special exemption from interdicts which the Templars enjoyed, and the sanctity of their churches as burial-places, made this associateship attractive to devout men, who willingly gave benefactions in return for it. It is one of fate's ironies that of the many Knights Templars buried in the church not a single name or monument should have been preserved _in situ_. No separate graves are now marked by the effigies, but during the 1841 restorations stone and leaden coffins containing skeletons were found below the pavement. These remains have been reburied in a vault in the middle of the church.

The outline of the Round Church was never probably a perfect circle. Excavations have been made, and some foundations have been discovered underground on the east side of the church, which seem to shew that an apse existed nearly fifty feet long. This, of course, contained the altar. Even so, however, the church must often have been inconveniently crowded, and the spaciousness of the later addition shows how much this inconvenience had been felt. The middle opening between the two churches is probably the original arch by which the apse was entered, since it does not, like the two side arches, break into the line of arcading. In passing from the earlier to the later church, we pass from Transitional Norman to a pure example of Early English style, the details of which closely remind us of Salisbury Cathedral. That cathedral, which was not finished till 1258, was begun in 1220, and the foundations of the Temple choir cannot have been laid very long after this. Matthew Paris (died 1259) tells us that "the noble church of the New Temple, of a construction worthy to be looked at," was consecrated on Ascension Day, 1240, in the presence of Henry III. and many great men of the realm. As the king looked round the new church during the consecration ceremony, it is quite conceivable that he turned over in his mind the idea of rebuilding the east end of Westminster Abbey in this same style--a design which he proceeded to put into execution five years later. The combination of the two Temple Churches into one harmonious whole is a stroke of genius on the part of the unknown architect. It might have been a failure had there been any violence of contrast. As it is, we feel that we are only moving one step forward in the evolution of church-building. The general effect of the columns and arches is much the same throughout, and the view from either church into the other pleases the eye.

To realise the full beauty of this great choir we must in thought sweep away the present seats and pulpit, and reconstruct the two side altars dedicated to St. John and St. Nicolas, which flanked the high altar dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Traces of this original arrangement are still to be seen in the restored aumbreys and piscina on the north and south walls. The height of these niches seems to show that the side altars were some four or five steps above the level of the present floor. The three aumbreys over the high altar are unfortunately hidden by the incongruous reredos which was put up in 1841. In these locked cupboards some of the church plate was kept. The inventory of 1307 contains various priced items of silver-gilt plate, together with numerous relics, unpriced--among them "the sword with which the Blessed Thomas of Canterbury was killed, and two crosses of the wood on which Christ was crucified." The safe custody of these treasures must have been a source of anxiety. Opening out of the staircase which leads to the triforium a small chamber has been constructed in the thickness of the wall, lighted by two loop-holes, one of which looks towards the altar, the other across the church. This has been supposed to be a penitential cell for disobedient Templars, but it was more probably a watcher's chamber, used as a safeguard against possible theft. The three altars seem to have been at first entirely open to the body of the church, the idea being that the whole building was a chancel or choir. During the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, however, the space round the high altar seems to have been enclosed by a screen with gates, thus forming a separate chancel. The side altars were presumably removed soon after the Reformation, and in Puritan days the communion table was for a time brought down from the east end and placed longitudinally on the floor in the body of the church. Probably about this time the old stained glass was wrecked, and the marble columns were white-washed. The only pre-Reformation monument which has survived in the choir is the recumbent figure of a bishop, supposed to be Silvester de Everdon, Bishop of Carlisle, who was killed by a fall from his horse in 1254. A good many brasses seem to have disappeared. "Divers plates of brass of late times have been torn out," says Dugdale (1671), who gives one or two epitaphs in French. Of post-Reformation monuments but two now remain in the body of the church--those of Richard Hooker (died 1600) and John Selden (died 1654). The rest have been placed in the triforium.

Little else of the Templars' work now survives. Below the pavement outside the south wall of the Round Church are the remains of the crypt of St. Ann's Chapel, built about 1220. There is enough left to show that the building was in the Early English style, and corresponded in its details with the choir church. Parts of the upper chapel still existed in a ruined state, hidden among encroaching buildings, as recently as 1825. On the west side of the Inner Temple Hall, which occupies the site of the Templars' Refectory (or perhaps, we should say, one of their refectories, for in the inquisition of 1337 two halls are mentioned), are two ancient chambers, one above the other, the roofs of which are supported by intersecting arches, rising from the four corners of the floor. This work is perhaps a little older than the Round Church. The lower chamber has been supposed to be what is called in the records "the Hall of the Priests." With these exceptions the church alone remains as a monument of the greatness and the glory of the Templars. For a century and a half at the New Temple they were a power in the land. Men deposited treasure in their custody. Popes conferred upon them exceptional privileges. They stood high in royal favour. Henry II. and Richard were benefactors. John was a frequent guest. It was while he was holding his court at the Temple on the Epiphany feast of 1215 that the Barons came before him in full armour to announce their ultimatum, and his signing the _Magna Carta_ was partly due to the influence of the then Master of the Temple. Henry III. at one time intended to be buried in the Temple Church. His subsequent change of mind perhaps marks some decline in the popularity of the Templars. But their downfall in England (1308) was mainly owing to Papal pressure. Edward II. resisted as long as he could, and the more serious charges against them, which were based on confessions extracted by torture, are now generally regarded by historians as unfounded.

The premises of the Temple were eventually (1340) granted to the Knights Hospitallers, the rivals and bitter enemies of the fallen Order. They held the property for two hundred years, but they had their own settlement at Clerkenwell, and the Temple did not mean to them what it had meant to the Templars. About 1347 they leased all but the consecrated buildings and ecclesiastical precincts to "certain lawyers," who had already become tenants of the Earl of Lancaster and others, on whom in the first instance Edward II. had bestowed the premises. Great interest attaches to this settlement of lawyers, but much remains obscure about it. Some of the early documents may have been destroyed during Wat Tyler's insurrection (1381). A manuscript (quoted by Dugdale) describes the scene in the law-French of the day.

"Les Rebells alleront a le Temple ... et alleront en l'Esglise,
et pristeront touts les liveres et Rolles de Remembrances que
furont en lour huches deins le Temple de Apprentices de la Ley,
et porteront en le haut chimene et les arderont."

This, however, is not the full extent of the loss which has been sustained. The records of the following 120 years up to 1500 are missing, both in the Inner and the Middle Temples.[73] One result of these losses is that there is nothing to show when the two Inns became separate societies, on the assumption that they were not independent bodies from the outset. Chaucer's well-known description (about 1390) of "a gentil manciple of the [or perhaps the true reading is 'a'] Temple" is not decisive.

"Of maisters had he mo than thries ten
That were of lawe expert and curious,
Of which there was a dosein _in that hous_
Worthy to ben stewardes of rent and lond
Of any lord that is in Englelond."

An entry in the books of Lincoln's Inn incidentally mentions the Middle Temple in 1422, and in one of the _Paston Letters_, dated 1440, we read "qwan your leysyr is, resorte ageyn on to your college, the Inner Temple." It is generally admitted now that neither society can establish any claim of priority or precedence over the other. Appeal has been made to the badges, but they throw no light on the question. The Agnus of the Middle Temple is apparently not mentioned till about 1615, and the Pegasus of the Inner Temple not before 1562. It is still a matter of dispute whether the Templars' emblem of a horse with two knights on its back can have been altered into a horse with two wings by the ignorance or ingenuity of some workman.