ROMANCE OF LONDON: 
 
 STRANGE STORIES, 
 
 SCENES AND REMARKABLE PERSONS OF 
 THE GREAT TOWN. 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN TIMES, F.S.A. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 'A CENTURY OP ANECDOTE* ETC. KTC. 
 
 /- 
 
 'Twos strange, 'twas passing strange. SHAKSPEARE. 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET, 
 
 PUBLISHER IN ORDINARY TO HER MAJESTY. 
 
 1865.
 
 LCHfDOIC 
 PBIHTED BY SPOTTIS WOODB A5D CO. 
 
 SEW-STREET SQUABB
 
 PBEFACE. 
 
 THE exhaustless interest and endless suggestiveness 
 of Ancient and Modern London, have induced the 
 author to collect in these volumes some of its more 
 curious characteristics. His object has been more 
 especially to present to the reader who enjoys the 
 Past without underrating the Present, a collection 
 of STRANGE STORIES, SCENES, ADVENTURES and 
 VICISSITUDES, associated with London. 
 
 Romance, we know, has been accused of corrupting 
 the truth of history ; but the romantic character which 
 the following Narratives possess, has not been gained 
 by a sacrifice of truth ; since our Romance consists of 
 marvellous incidents, verifying the saying that " Truth 
 is stranger than Fiction." As in Nature, so in Art, 
 
 " 'T is distance lends enchantment to the view : " 
 
 but the " modern instances " in these volumes are as 
 remarkable in character as the notable things of centu- 
 ries ago. Whether we regard London as a walled town, 
 as a labyrinth of courts and alleys, or as a majestic 
 city, with 2,600 miles of streets, and 360,000 inhabited 
 houses, we shall find, alike in every period, a succes- 
 sion of scenes calculated to excite curiosity and awaken 
 wonder. 
 
 This work ranges from the building of the first 
 Bridge at London to the startling incident of a few
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 days since. In the earlier narratives we have avoided 
 the quaintness overmuch of the old chronicle, as un- 
 suited for popular reading. Here are HISTORIC 
 SKETCHES of many of the leading events with which 
 the History of London is chequered. In REMARK- 
 ABLE DUELS, in the modern sense of the term ; and 
 in the sketches of NOTORIOUS HIGHWAYMEN, we 
 get some glimpses of the wild life of the Metropolis in 
 the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries ; and in the 
 section of ROGUERIES, CRIMES, and PUNISHMENTS, 
 are pictured many dark deeds romances of real life. 
 LOVE and MARRIAGE present us with lights and 
 shadows ; whilst SUPERNATURAL STORIES invest not 
 a few London localities with mysterious import. 
 SIGHTS and SHOWS, and PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS, oc- 
 cupy a considerable space, from their amusing pictures 
 of the manners of the people, and the picturesque 
 customs and gaieties of Londoners which they illus- 
 trate. STRANGE ADVENTURES and CATASTROPHES, 
 and REMARKABLE PERSONS, complete the narrative. 
 
 June 1865.
 
 THE FIEST VOLUME. 
 
 HISTORIC SKETCHES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 STORY OF THE FERRYMAN'S DAUGHTER, ST. MARY OVERS, 
 
 AND THE FIRST LONDON BRIDGE .... 3 
 
 THE BALLAD OF " LONDON BRIDGE is BROKEN DOWN " . 7 
 NOTED RESIDENTS ON OLD LONDON BRIDGE . . .11 
 
 SMITHFIELD AND ITS TOURNAMENTS .... 14 
 
 PLANTAGENET PIGS 16 
 
 " WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT " 17 
 
 CROSBY PLACE, SHAKSPEARE, AND RICHARD III. . . 24 
 
 SORROWS OF SANCTUARY 27 
 
 THE HUNGERFORDS AT CHARING CROSS . . ... 30 
 JANE SHORE: HER TRUE HISTORY . . . .35 
 
 STORY OF A KING'S HEAD 39 
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH BY TORCHLIGHT 41 
 
 ROMANCE OF THE BEAUCHAMP TOWER . . . .43 
 
 TRAITORS' GATE, IN THE TOWER 49 
 
 THE BLOODY TOWER 51 
 
 Two PRISONERS IN THE BELL TOWER .... 53 
 WHAT BECAME OF THE HEADS OF BISHOP FISHER AND 
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE 56 
 
 EXECUTION OF LADY JANE GREY 58
 
 V1 CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 FAGB 
 
 "WHERE WAS ANNE BOLEYN BURIED ? . . .61 
 
 SIR WALTER KALEIGH WRITING HIS " HISTORY OF THE 
 
 WORLD" 63 
 
 SIR WALTER RALEIGH ATTEMPTS SUICIDE IN THE TOWER 65 
 
 THE EXECUTION OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH ... 69 
 
 THE POISONING OF SIR THOMAS OVERBURY ... 71 
 
 A FAREWELL FEAST IN THE TOWER 74 
 
 THE GUNPOWDER PLOT DETECTED 76 
 
 Two TIPPLING KINGS 86 
 
 FUNERAL OF JAMES 1 88 
 
 HISTORICAL COINCIDENCES . 91 
 
 QUEEN HENRIETTA MARIA DOING PENANCE AT TYBURN . 93 
 
 "OLD PARR" . 96 
 
 GEORGE AND BLUE BOAR INN. THE INTERCEPTED LETTER 100 
 
 LORD SANQUHAR'S REVENGE : A STORY OF WHITEFRIARS 101 
 
 MARTYRDOM OF KING CHARLES I. . . . . . 103 
 
 THE STORY OF DON PANTALEON SA 106 
 
 SIR RICHARD WILLIS'S PLOT AGAINST CHARLES H. .110 
 
 MANSION OF A CITY MERCHANT PRINCE .... 112 
 TREASURE-SEEKING LN THE TOWER . . . .113 
 
 COLONEL BLOOD STEALS THE CROWN FROM THE TOWER . 115 
 
 THE STORY OF NAN CLARGES, DUCHESS OF ALBEMARLE . 122 
 
 SIR EDMUND BERRY GODFREY: His MYSTERIOUS DEATH 126 
 COLONEL BLOOD'S ATTACK UPON THE DUKE OF ORMOND, 
 
 IN ST. JAMES'S STREET 132 
 
 THE HEROIC LADY FANSHAWE 134 
 
 CROMWELL'S SKULL 137 
 
 A STORY OF MIDDLE TEMPLE GATE 139 
 
 THE STORY OF NELL GWYNNE 141 
 
 FRANCIS BACON IN GRAY'S INN 149 
 
 LORD CRAVEN AND THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA . . . 151 
 
 ADDISON'S "CAMPAIGN" 156 
 
 LADIES EXCLUDED FROM THE HOUSE OF LORDS 161
 
 CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. Vll 
 
 PAGE 
 
 JEMMY DAWSON 162 
 
 SECRET VISITS OF THE YOUNG PRETENDER TO LONDON . 165 
 
 THE EIOTS OF 1780 173 
 
 ALDERMAN BECKFORD AND HIS MONUMENTAL SPEECH . 178 
 
 ROYALTY DEDUCED FROM A TUB- WOMAN .... 183 
 
 UNFORTUNATE BARONETS 184 
 
 THE VICTORY OF CULL'ODEN . . . . . . 186 
 
 SUICIDE OF LORD CLIVE 187 
 
 FUNERAL OF NELSON 190 
 
 LORD CASTLEREAGH'S BLUNDERS 193 
 
 ACCESSION OF QUEEN VICTORIA. 194 
 
 THE ROYAL EXCHANGE MOTTO 196 
 
 LONDON RESIDENCE OF THE EMPEROR OF THE FRENCH IN 
 
 1847-8 197 
 
 THE CHARTISTS IN 1848 199 
 
 APSLEY HOUSE . . . . . . . . 201 
 
 REMARKABLE DUELS. 
 
 TRIAL BY BATTLE 205 
 
 THE FIELD OF FORTY FOOTSTEPS 207 
 
 THE FAMOUS CHESHIRE WILL CASE 211 
 
 DUEL BETWEEN THE DUKE OF HAMILTON AND LORD MoHUN 214 
 
 DUEL BETWEEN LORD BYRON AND MR. CHAWORTH . . 225 
 
 DUEL. BETWEEN THE DUKE OF YORK AND COLONEL LENOX 231 
 
 "FIGHTING FITZGERALD" 234 
 
 PRIMROSE HILL 236 
 
 LORD CAMELFORD, THE DUELLIST 236 
 
 A LITERARY ' DUEL 242 
 
 A TERRIBLE DUEL 245 
 
 NOTORIOUS HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 HEROES OF THE ROAD 249 
 
 CLAUDE DUYAL 253
 
 Vlll CONTENTS OF THE FIKST VOLUME. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 JEMMY WHITNEY, THE HANDSOME HIGHWAYMAN . . 254 
 
 DICK TURPIN . . . 255 
 
 M<LEAN, THE FASHIONABLE HIGHWAYMAN . . . 257 
 
 METROPOLITAN HIGHWAYMEN 261 
 
 ROGUERIES, CRIMES, AND PUNISHMENTS. 
 
 ANCIENT CIVIL PUNISHMENTS 281 
 
 CAGE AND STOCKS AT LONDON BRIDGE .... 283 
 
 FLOGGING AT BRIDEWELL 284 
 
 WITCHCRAFT PENANCE ON LONDON BRIDGE . . . 286 
 
 STRIKING IN THE KING'S COTJRX 289 
 
 TORTURE. THE RACK . 292 
 
 PRESSING TO DEATH 294 
 
 DISCOVERY OF A MURDER 297 
 
 ORIGIN OF THE COVENTRY ACT 298 
 
 RISE OF JUDGE JEFFREYS 299 
 
 STORIES OF THE STAR-CHAMBER 302 
 
 PERSONS OF NOTE IMPRISONED IN THE FLEET . . . 305 
 
 THE RISING OF SIR THOMAS WYAT . . ' . . . 311 
 
 THE STORY OF GEORGE BARNWELL . 314 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 131, lines 2 and 6 from foot, for Sir Godfrey read, Godfrey. 
 148, line 12 from foot, for Mellor read Mellon. 
 239, 5 from foot omit Mr. 
 273 and 274, for Keunington read Kensington.
 
 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 B
 
 STORY OF THE FERRYMAN'S DAUGHTER, 
 ST. MAEY OVERS, AND THE FIEST LONDON BRIDGE. 
 
 IN the British Museum is a singularly curious, al- 
 though probably fabulous, tract of 30 pages, entitled 
 " The True History of the Life and sudden Death of 
 old John Overs, the rich Ferry-man of London, show- 
 ing how he lost his life by his own covetousness. And 
 of his daughter Mary, who caused the Church of 
 St. Mary Overs in Southwark to be built ; and of the 
 building of London Bridge." The History opens as 
 follows : " Before there was any Bridge at all built 
 over the Thames, there was only a Ferry, to which 
 divers Boats belonged, to transport all Passengers be- 
 twixt Southwark and Churchyard Alley, that being 
 the high-road way betwixt Middlesex and Sussex and 
 London. The Ferry was rented of the City, by one 
 John Overs, which he enjoyed for many years together, 
 to his great profit ; for it is to be imagined, that no 
 small benefit could arise from the ferrying over foot- 
 men, horsemen, all manner of cattle, all market folks 
 that came with provisions to the City, strangers and 
 others." 
 
 Overs, however, though he kept several servants, 
 and apprentices, was of so covetous a soul, that notwith- 
 standing he possessed an estate equal to that of the best 
 Alderman in London, acquired by unceasing labour, 
 frugality, and usury, yet his habit and dwelling were 
 
 B 2
 
 4 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 both strangely expressive of the most miserable poverty. 
 He had an only daughter, "of a beautiful aspect," 
 says the tract, " and a pious disposition ; whom he had 
 care to see well and liberally educated, though at the 
 cheapest rate ; and yet so, that when she grew ripe and 
 mature for marriage, he would suffer no man of what 
 condition or quality soever, by his goodwill, to have 
 any sight of her, much less access to her." A young 
 gallant, however, who seems to have thought more 
 of being the Ferryman's heir than his son-in-law, 
 took the opportunity, while he was engaged at the 
 Ferry, to be admitted into her company. " The first 
 interview," says the story, " pleased well ; the second 
 better ; the third concluded the match between them." 
 " In all this long interim, the poor silly rich old 
 Ferryman, not dreaming of any such passages, but 
 thinking all things to be as secure by land as he knew 
 they were by water," continued his former wretched 
 and penurious course of life. To save the expense 
 of one day's food in his family, he formed a scheme 
 to feign himself dead for twenty-four hours, in the vain 
 expectation that his servants w r ould, out of propriety, 
 fast until after his funeral. Having procured his 
 daughter to consent to this plot, even against her better 
 nature, he was put into a sheet, and stretched out in 
 his chamber, having one taper burning at his head, and 
 another at his feet, according to the custom of the time. 
 When, however, his servants were informed of his de- 
 cease, instead of lamenting they were overjoyed, and, 
 having danced round the body, they broke open his 
 larder, and fell to banqueting. The Ferryman bore 
 all this as long, and as much like a dead man, as he 
 was able ; " but when he could endure it no longer," 
 says the tract, " stirring and struggling in his sheet,
 
 STORY OP THE FERRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 5 
 
 like a ghost with a candle in each hand, he purposed 
 to rise up, and rate 'em for their sauciness and bold- 
 ness ; when one of them thinking that the Devil was 
 about to rise in his likeness, being in a great amaze, 
 catched hold of the butt-end of a broken oar, which 
 was in the chamber, and being a sturdy knave, think- 
 ing to kill the Devil at the first blow, actually struck 
 out his brains." It is added that the servant was ac- 
 quitted, and the Ferryman made accessary and cause 
 of his own death. 
 
 The estate of Overs then fell to his daughter, and 
 her lover hearing of it, hastened up from the country ; 
 but, in riding post, his horse stumbled, and he broke 
 his neck on the highway. The young heiress was 
 almost distracted at these events, and was recalled to 
 her faculties only by having to provide for her father's 
 interment ; for he was not permitted to have a Chris- 
 tian burial, being considered as an excommunicated 
 man, on account of his extortions, usury, and truly 
 miserable life. The Friars of Berniondsey Abbey 
 were, however, prevailed upon, by money, their Abbot 
 being then away, to give a little earth to the remains of 
 the wretched Ferryman. But, upon the Abbot's return, 
 observing a grave which had been recently covered 
 in, and learning who lay there, he was not only angry 
 with his Monks for having done such an injury to the 
 Church for the sake of gain, but he also had the body 
 taken up again, laid on the back of his own ass, and 
 turning the animal out of the Abbey gates, desired of 
 God that he might carry him to some place where he 
 best deserved to be buried. The ass proceeded with a 
 gentle and solemn pace through Kent Street, and along 
 the highway, to the small pond once called St. Thomas 
 a Waterings, then the common place of execution, and
 
 6 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 shook off the Ferryman's body directly under the 
 gibbet, where it was put into the ground without any 
 kind of ceremony. 
 
 Mary Overs, extremely distressed by such a bat- 
 talion of sorrows, and desirous to be free from the im- 
 portunities of the numerous suitors for her hand and 
 fortune, resolved to retire into a cloister, which she 
 shortly afterwards did, having first provided for the 
 building of that church which commemorates her name. 
 
 There is extant a monumental effigy preserved in 
 the church, which is commonly reported to be that of 
 Audery, the Ferryman, father of the foundress of 
 St. Mary Overies. As a supplement to the story con- 
 tained in the tract, it is related that the pious maiden, 
 out of her filial love, had the effigy sculptured in 
 memory of her father ; since it was thought to repre- 
 sent the cadaverous features of the old Waterman : 
 it represents a skeleton in a shroud ; but the workman- 
 ship is of the loth century, and Audery certainly died 
 long before the time of William I. Capt. Grose has 
 engraved this effigy in his Antiquities, and describes 
 it as " a skeleton-like figure, of which the usual story 
 is told, that the person thereby represented attempted 
 to fast forty days in imitation of Christ," adding that 
 he died in the attempt, having first reduced himself to 
 that appearance. 
 
 Stow attributes the building of the first Wooden 
 Bridge over the Thames at London to the pious 
 brothers of St. Mary's Monastery, on the Bank-side ; 
 and this on the authority of Linsted, the last Prior of 
 St. Mary Overies, who, on surrendering his Convent, 
 at the Dissolution, had a pension assigned him of 1007. 
 per annum, which he enjoyed until 1553. From the
 
 STORY OF THE FERRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 7 
 
 Supplement to Dugdale's Monasticon, Stow states that 
 " a Ferry being kept in the place where the Bridge is 
 built, the Ferryman and his wife deceasing, left the 
 said Ferry to their only daughter, a maiden named 
 Mary ; which, with the goods left her by her parents, 
 as also with the profits rising of the said Ferry, built 
 a house of Sisters in the place where now standeth the 
 east part of St. Mary Overies Church, above the choir, 
 where she was buried. Unto which house she gave 
 the oversight and profits of the Ferry. But, after- 
 wards, the said house of Sisters being converted into 
 a College of Priests, the Priests built the bridge of 
 timber, as all the other great bridges of this land were, 
 and, from time to tune, kept the same in good repara- 
 tions. Till, at length, considering the great charges 
 of repairing the same, there was, by aid of the Citizens 
 of London, and others, a Bridge built with arches of 
 stone," &c. This version has, been much opposed by 
 antiquaries, who are not inclined to attribute the build- 
 ing of the first Wooden Bridge to the Monks of South- 
 wark.* 
 
 THE BALLAD OF " LONDON BEIDGE IS BEOKEN DOWN." 
 
 THIS very popular nurse's song, which is a metrical 
 illustration of the connection of the River Lee and 
 London Bridge, has a scattered history, which it is 
 difficult to trace. One of the most elegant copies of 
 the ballad is to be found in Ritson's rare and curious 
 Gammer Gurton's Garland: or the Nursery Parnassus, 
 and is as follows : 
 
 * See Chronicles of London Bridge, by an Antiquary, pp. 40-44.
 
 8 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 London Bridge is broken down, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lee ; 
 London Bridge is broken down, 
 
 With a gay lady. 
 
 How shall we build it up again ? 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lee ; 
 How shall we build it up again ? 
 
 With a gay lady. 
 
 Silver and gold will be stolen away, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lee ; 
 Silver and gold will be stolen away, 
 
 With a gay lady. 
 
 Build it up with iron and steel, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lee ; 
 Build it up with iron and steel, 
 
 With a gay lady. 
 
 Iron and steel will bend and bow, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lee ; 
 Iron and steel will bend and bow, 
 
 With a gay lady. 
 
 Build it up with wood and clay, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lee ; 
 Build it up with wood and clay, 
 
 With a gay lady. 
 
 Wood and clay will wash away, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lee ; 
 Wood and clay will wash away, 
 
 With a gay lady. 
 
 Build it up with stone so strong, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lee ; 
 Huzza ! 'twill last for ages long, 
 
 With a gay lady. 
 
 Another copy of this ballad contains the following 
 stanzas, wanting in Kitson's, and coming in imme- 
 diately after the third verse, " Silver and gold will be 
 stolen away ; " though the propositions for building this 
 Bridge with iron and steel, and wood and stone, have, 
 in this copy also, already been made and objected to.
 
 "LONDON BRIDGE IS BROKEN DOWN." 9 
 
 Then we must set a man to watch, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lea ; 
 Then we must set a man to watch, 
 
 With a gay La-dee. 
 
 Suppose the man should fall asleep, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lea ; 
 Suppose the man should fall asleep, 
 
 With a gay La-dee. 
 
 Then we must put a pipe in his mouth, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lea ; 
 Then we must put a pipe in his mouth, 
 
 With a gay La-dee. 
 
 Suppose the pipe should fall and break, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lea ; 
 Suppose the pipe should fall and break, 
 
 With a gay La-dee. 
 
 Then we must set a dog to watch, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lea ; 
 Then we must set a dog to watch, 
 
 With a gay La-dee. 
 
 Suppose the dog should run away, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lea; 
 Suppose the dog should run away, 
 
 With a gay La-dee. 
 
 Then we must chain him to a post, 
 
 Dance o'er my Lady Lea; 
 Then we must chain him to a post, 
 
 With a gay La-dee. 
 
 In these verses it will be observed how singularly and 
 happily the burthen of the song often falls in with the 
 subject of the new line ; though, probably, the whole 
 ballad has been formed by making fresh additions, in 
 a long series of years, and is, perhaps, almost intermi- 
 nable when received in all its different versions. The 
 stanzas last quoted are the introductory lines of an old 
 ballad, which the copyist, more than seventy years pre- 
 viously, had heard plaintively warbled by a lady who
 
 10 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 was born in the reign of Charles II., and who lived till 
 nearly that of George II. Another copyist observes that 
 the ballad concerning London Bridge formed, in his re- 
 membrance, part of a Christmas carol, and commenced 
 
 thus : 
 
 Dame, get up and bake your pies, 
 On Christmas-day in the morning : 
 
 " The requisition," he continues, " goes on to the Dame 
 to prepare for the feast, and her answer is 
 
 London Bridge is broken down, 
 On Christmas-day in the morning. 
 
 These lines are from a Newcastle carol : the inference 
 has always been that, until the Bridge was rebuilt, 
 some stop would be put to Dame Christmas's opera- 
 tions; but why the falling of a part of London Bridge 
 should form part of a Christmas carol at Newcastle- 
 upon-Tyne, is a connection, doubtless, long since 
 gathered into the wallet which Time carries at his 
 back, wherein he puts alms for oblivion, though we 
 may remark that the history and features of the old 
 Bridge of that famous town had a very close resem- 
 blance to that of London. The author of the Chronicles 
 of London Bridge refers the composition of the ballad 
 to some very ancient date, when, London Bridge lying 
 in ruins, the office of Bridge Master was vacant ; and 
 his power over the river Lee for it is, doubtless, 
 that river which is celebrated in the chorus to this 
 song, was for a while at an end. The ancient 
 Music to the Song is preserved : it has been adapted 
 to the feet as well as the tongue : about sixty years 
 ago, one moonlight night, in a street in Bristol, was 
 heard a dance and chorus of boys and girls, to which 
 the words of this Ballad gave measure. The breaking-
 
 NOTED RESIDENTS ON OLD LONDON BRIDGE. 11 
 
 down of the Bridge was announced as the dancers 
 moved round in a circle, hand-in-hand ; the question, 
 ' How shall we build it up again ? ' was chaunted by 
 the leader, whilst the rest stood still." 
 
 NOTED EESIDENTS ON OLD LONDON BRIDGE. 
 
 SEVERAL traditional mistake's have been perpetuated, 
 as to persons supposed to have dwelt upon London 
 Bridge. Thus, the author of Wine and Walnuts tells 
 us that John Bunyan resided for some time upon the 
 Bridge, though we fail to discover any such circum- 
 stance in either of the lives of that good man now ex- 
 tant ; but he certainly preached for some time at a 
 chapel in Southwark. Perhaps, however, the first 
 assertion may be explained by a passage in the Preface 
 to " The Labours of that eminent Servant of Christ, 
 Mr. John Bunyan," London, 1692, folio, where it is 
 stated that in 1688, he published six books, being the 
 time of James II.'s liberty of conscience, and was 
 seized with a sweating distemper, which, after his 
 some weeks' going about, proved his death at his very 
 loving friend's, Mr. Strudwick's, a grocer at the 
 sign of the Star ".at Holborn Bridge, London, on 
 August 31st." 
 
 It is also recorded on the same page of Wine and 
 Walnuts, that Master Abel, the great importer of wines, 
 was another of the marvels of old London Bridge : he 
 
 O * 
 
 set up a sign, " Thank God, I am Abel? quoth the wag, 
 and had in front of his house the sign of a bell. It is 
 possible there may be some traditionary authority for 
 this story ; but in the very rare tracts relating to
 
 12 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 Alderman Abel, preserved in the British Museum, 
 there is nothing concerning his residence on London 
 Bridge. 
 
 The same chapter contains some authentic notices of 
 Artists who really did live upon the venerable edifice. 
 Of these, one of the most eminent was Hans Holbein, 
 the great painter of the Court of Henry VIII. ; though 
 we can hardly suppose that he inhabited the Nonesuch 
 House, yet his actual residence is certified by Lord 
 Orford, in his Anecdotes of Painting, as follows : " The 
 father of the Lord Treasurer Oxford, passing over 
 London Bridge, was caught in a shower, and stepping 
 into a goldsmith's shop for shelter, he found there a 
 picture of Holbein, who had lived in that house, 
 and his family. He offered the goldsmith 100Z. for it, 
 who consented to let him have it, but desired first to 
 show it to some persons. Immediately after happened the 
 great Fire of London, and the picture was destroyed." 
 
 Another famous Artist of London Bridge was Peter 
 Monamy, so excellent a painter of marine subjects as 
 to be considered but little inferior to Vandevelde him- 
 self. Lord Orford says of him, that " he received his 
 first rudiments of drawing from a sign and house 
 painter on London Bridge ; " and that " the shallow 
 waves that rolled under his window, taught young 
 Monamy what his master could not teach him, and 
 fitted him to paint the turbulence of the ocean." 
 
 Edwards, in his Continuation of WalpoWs Anecdotes., 
 tells us that Dominic Serres, the marine painter, who 
 died in 1793, once kept shop on London Bridge. To 
 these may be added Jack Laguerre, the engraver, a 
 great humourist, wit, singer, player, caricaturist, mimic, 
 and a good scene-painter, son of that Louis, who painted
 
 NOTED RESIDENTS ON OLD LONDON BRIDGE. 13 
 
 staircases and saloons, where, as Pope says, " sprawl 
 the saints of Verrio and Laguerre." His residence 
 was on the first floor of the dwelling of a waggish 
 bookseller and author-of-all-work, named Crispin 
 Tucker, the owner of half-a-shop, on the east side, 
 under the southern gate of the Bridge. The artist's 
 studio was chiefly in the bow-window in a back room, 
 which projected over the Thames, and trembled at every 
 half-ebb tide. Here, also, Hogarth resided in his early 
 life, when he engraved for old John Bowles, at the 
 Black Horse, in Cornhill. His studio resembled, we are 
 told in Wine and Walnuts, " one of the alchemist's labo- 
 ratories from the pencil of the elder Teniers. It was a 
 complete, smoke-stained confusionary, with a German 
 stove, crucibles, pipkins, and nests of drawers with 
 rings of twine to pull them out ; here a box of asphal- 
 tum, there glass-stoppered bottles, varnishes, dabbers, 
 gravers, etching-tools, walls of wax, obsolete copper- 
 plates, many engraved on both sides, and poetry scrib- 
 bled over the walls ; a pallet hung up as an heir-loom, 
 the colours dry upon it, hard as stone ; all the multi- 
 farious arcanalia of engraving, and, lastly, a Printing 
 Press ! " And in Wine and Walnuts is an amusing 
 account of Dean Swift's and Pope's visits and conver- 
 sations with the noted Crispin Tucker. 
 
 Not only the ordinary buildings in the Bridge Street, 
 which were formerly occupied as shops and warehouses, 
 but even the Chapel of St. Thomas, which, in later 
 years, was called Chapel House, and the Nonesuch 
 House, were used for similar purposes before they were 
 taken down. Dr. Ducarel relates that the house over the 
 chapel belonged to Mr. Baldwin, haberdasher, who was 
 born there ; and when, at seventy-one, he was ordered to
 
 14 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 go to Chislehurst for a change of air, he could not sleep 
 in the country, for want of the " noise," the roaring 
 and rushing of the tide beneath the Bridge, " he had 
 always been used to hear." We gather from the 
 Morning Advertiser for April 26, 1798, that Alderman 
 Gill and Wright had been in partnership upwards of 
 fifty years ; and that their shop stood on the centre of 
 London Bridge, and their warehouse for paper was 
 directly under it, which was a chapel for divine service, 
 in one of the old arches ; long within legal memory, the 
 service was performed here every Sabbath and Saint's- 
 day. Although the floor was always at high-water 
 mark, from 10 to 12 feet under the surface ; yet such 
 was the excellency of the materials, and the masonry, 
 that not the least damp, or leak, ever happened, and 
 the paper was kept as safe and dry as it would have 
 been in a garret. 
 
 Again, in Seymour's Survey of London and West- 
 minster, 1734, it is stated that, at that time, one side of 
 the Nonesuch House was inhabited by Mr. Bray, a 
 stationer, and the other by Mr. Wed, a dry-salter. 
 
 SMITHFIELD AND ITS TOURNAMENTS. 
 
 MANY remarkable Tournaments are recorded as having 
 taken place at Smithfield, especially during the reign 
 of Edward III. Here that warlike monarch frequently 
 entertained with feats of arms his illustrious captives, 
 the kings of France and Scotland; and here, in 1374, 
 towards the close of his long reign when the charms 
 of Alice Pierce had infatuated the doting monarch he 
 sought to gratify his beautiful mistress by rendering
 
 SMITHFIELD AND ITS TOURNAMENTS. 15 
 
 her the " observed of all observers," at one of the most 
 magnificent tournaments of which we have any record. 
 Gazing with rapture on her transcendant beauty, he 
 conferred on her the title of " Lady of the Sun ; " and 
 taking her by the hand, in all the blaze of jewels and 
 loveliness, led her from the royal apartments in the 
 Tower to a triumphal chariot, in which he took place 
 by her side. The procession which followed consisted 
 of the rank and beauty of the land, each lady being 
 mounted on a beautiful palfrey, and having her bridle 
 held by a knight on horseback. 
 
 A still more magnificent tournament for invitations 
 had been sent to the flower of chivalry at all the courts of 
 Europe was held at Smithfield in the succeeding reign 
 of Richard II. The opening festivities are graphically 
 painted by Froissart, who was not improbably a witness 
 of the gorgeous scene he describes. " At three o'clock 
 on the Sunday after Michaelmas-day, the ceremony 
 began. Sixty horses in rich trappings, each mounted by 
 an esquire of honour, were seen advancing in a stately 
 pace from the Tower of London ; sixty ladies of rank, 
 dressed in the richest elegance of the day, followed on 
 their palfreys, one after another, each leading by a silver 
 chain a knight completely armed for tilting. Minstrels 
 and trumpets accompanied them to Smithfield amidst 
 the shouting population ; there the queen and her fair 
 train received them. The ladies dismounted, and with- 
 drew to their allotted seats ; while the knights mounted 
 their steeds, laced their helmets, and prepared for the 
 encounter. They tilted each other till dark. They 
 all then adjourned to a sumptuous banquet, and dan- 
 cing consumed the night, till fatigue compelled every 
 one to seek repose. The next day the warlike sport
 
 16 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 commenced ; many were unhorsed ; many lost their hel- 
 mets ; but they all persevered with eager courage and 
 emulation, till night again summoned them to their 
 supper, dancing, and concluding rest. The festivities 
 were again repeated on the third day." The court 
 subsequently removed to Windsor, where King Richard 
 renewed his splendid hostilities, and at their conclusion 
 dismissed his foreign guests with many valuable pre- 
 sents. This picturesque scene is from the pen of 
 Captain Jesse. 
 
 PLANTAGENET PIGS. 
 
 WE gather from The Guildhall White Book) lately trans- 
 lated and published by the suggestion of the Master of 
 the Rolls, the following curious regulations as to the 
 City Pigs in the fifteenth century : 
 
 Pork seems to have been (1412) more extensively 
 consumed than any other kind of butchers'-meat, judg- 
 ing from the frequent mention of swine, and the laws 
 about them, living and dead. " Lean swine " are 
 named as frequenters of Smithfield Market, apparently 
 as a means of improving their condition. In Edward 
 Longshanks's days, persons living in the City were 
 allowed to keep swine " within their houses," with as 
 free a range as that porcine pet of the Irish school- 
 master. But these Plantagenet pigs were not to 
 occupy sties that encroached on the streets. At a 
 later day, the permission to keep them even within 
 one's house would seem to have been limited, as we 
 have seen, to master-bakers; and it seems to have been 
 at all times a standing rule, that swine were not to be
 
 "WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT." 17 
 
 allowed to roam about the streets, fosses, lanes, or suburbs 
 of the City. If an erring specimen was found, grunting 
 along his solitary way, defiant of statutes and ordi- 
 nances in such cases made and provided, then might 
 such vagrant porker, whether straying in the mere 
 naughtiness of his heart, or compelled by hunger, be 
 lawfully slain by whatsoever citizen lighted on him in 
 his vagabondage, said citizen being also at liberty to 
 retain what had been pig but was now pork, the carcase 
 whole and entire ; unless, indeed, the pig's sometime 
 owner bought it of him at a stipulated sum. Not even 
 this license for any citizen to kill any stray pig was 
 considered effectual enough to answer the legislative 
 purpose. The vagrant propensity that emptied so 
 many a sty of its denizen became a nuisance ; for we 
 read that early in the reign of Edward I. four men Avere 
 "chosen and sworn to take and kill all swine found 
 wandering within the walls of the City, to whomso- 
 ever they might belong." We find, however, that the 
 ' Renter of St. Anthony's Hospital (the patron Saint of 
 swine) was "a privileged person" in this respect, 
 though his honesty was impeachable, since he had to 
 make oath that he would not " avow any swine found 
 at large in the City," nor " hang any bells around their 
 necks, but only around those pigs which have been 
 given them in pure alms." 
 
 " WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT." 
 
 THE nursery tale of the poor boy, who rose to be 
 a wealthy merchant and Lord Mayor of London, 
 chiefly through a large sum of money obtained for him 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 by the sale of a cat, is a proven fiction ; and we have to 
 seek some other explanation of this special wonder. 
 Mr. Keightley has well observed, there were tales of a 
 similar nature current both before and at Whittington's 
 date, in several other countries in South America, in 
 Denmark, in Tuscany, in Venice, and in Persia. 
 During the Middle Ages; and, doubtless, at other 
 periods, there were current a multitude of tales and 
 stories belonging to no individual, but perfectly fabu- 
 lous, but which the popular mind was continually fixing 
 upon persons who had rendered themselves remarkable, 
 as a manner of expressing the popular appreciation of 
 their character, or explanation of the means by which 
 they gained it. Hence, the same story is told of 
 different persons, at different periods, and in different 
 countries. Such was the origin of the story of Whit- 
 tington and his Cat. Its incidents were not possible in 
 Whittington's time ; but they are exactly in accordance 
 with the sentiments and state of things in the reign of 
 Elizabeth, when, as far as the Whittington story is 
 concerned, it seems to have originated. 
 
 Still, some curious facts are adduced in support of 
 the legend. Mr. Deputy Lott, F.S.A., in a paper read 
 by him to the London and Middlesex Archaeological 
 Society, says : 
 
 " At Mercers' Hall is a portrait on canvas of a man 
 about sixty years of age, in a fine livery gown and 
 black cap of the time of Henry VIII., such as Yeomen 
 of the Guard now wear. The figure reaches about 
 half the length of the arms from the shoulders ; on the 
 left hand of the figure is a black and white cat, whose 
 right ear reaches up to the band or broad turning- 
 down of the skirt of the figure ; on the left-hand upper
 
 "WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT." 19 
 
 corner of the canvas is painted ' R. Whittington, 
 1536.' The size of the canvas of this portrait has 
 for some reason been altered, and the inscription has 
 evidently been painted since the alteration ; yet it is 
 hardly to be supposed it was then invented, and if not, 
 it carries the vulgar opinion of some connection between 
 Whittington and a cat as far back as 1536. From the 
 portrait being on canvas, it must have been painted at 
 a much later period than the date it bears. 
 
 " But there is an engraved portrait by Reginald 
 Elstrack,who flourished in 1590, in which Whittington 's 
 hand rests on a cat : this print was executed towards 
 the end of the reign of Elizabeth, when we know the 
 story existed, and was probably then invented. Elstrack 
 first engraved Whittington with his hand on a scull, 
 evidently not knowing or despising the legend ; but 
 persons would not buy this print until the cat was 
 substituted for the scull : the cat had then become 
 popular. Neither Grafton nor Holinshed says any- 
 thing of the legendary history of Sir Richard Whit- 
 tington : but it must have been current in the reign of 
 Elizabeth; for in the first scene of Beaumont and 
 Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle (1613), the 
 citizen says to the prologue, ' Why could you not be 
 contented, as well as others, with the legend of Whit- 
 tington?' The word 'legend' in this place would 
 seem to indicate the story of the cat. Cats, as we 
 know, fetched a high price in America when it was first, 
 colonised by the Spaniards. Two cats, we are told, 
 were taken out as a speculation to Cuyaba, where there 
 was a plague of rats, and they were sold for a pound of 
 gold. Their first kittens fetched each thirty pieces of 
 eight, the next generation not more than twenty, and 
 
 c2
 
 20 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 the price gradually fell as the colony bscame stocked 
 with these. The elder Almagro is said to have given 
 600 pieces of eight to the person who presented him 
 with the first cat which was brought from South 
 America." 
 
 It is strange what a propensity the vulgar have for 
 applying some other cause than industry, frugality, 
 and skill, seconded by good fortune (the usual and 
 general road, I believe, to wealth), to the acquisition 
 of riches. I hardly ever knew, says Mr. Lott, in my 
 own country, an instance of the attainment to opulence 
 by a man who, as the phrase goes, had risen from 
 nothing, that there was not some extraordinary mode 
 of accounting for it circulated among the vulgar. 
 
 In Popular Music of the Olden Time, by W. Chap- 
 pell, F.S.A., is the following: "The earliest notice 
 of ' Turn again, Whittington,' as a tune if a mere 
 change of bells may come under that denomination- 
 is in Shirley's Constant Maid, Act II. Scene 2, 1640, 
 where the niece says : 
 
 Faith, how many churches do you mean to build 
 Before you die ? Six bells in every steeple, 
 And let them all go to the City tune, 
 ' Turn again, Whittington,' who they say 
 Grew rich, and let his land out for nine lives 
 'Cause all came in by a cat." 
 
 A ballad was entered at Stationers' Hall a few 
 months later, then a drama on the same subject. 
 
 The imputed " low birth " of Whittington is more 
 distinctly disproved : he is shown to have descended 
 from the Whittingtons, who were owners of land in 
 Gloucestershire, as early as the reign of Edward I. ; 
 their estate being at Pauntley, where, in the church,
 
 " WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT." 21 
 
 are emblazoned the arms of Whittington, impaling 
 Warren, "thus closely identifying our hero, whose wife 
 was Alice Fitzwarren, with the Pauntley family be- 
 yond dispute." It is equally certain that Richard 
 Whittington was the son of Sir Richard Whittington. 
 That he rose early to wealth and civic honours, and was 
 four times Lord Mayor of London, is proved by the 
 municipal records. He rebuilt a church, founded a 
 college, and was altogether a munificent citizen. In 
 his third mayoralty, 1419, he entertained Henry of 
 Agincourt, and his bride, Catherine of France. Never 
 before did a merchant display such magnificence as was 
 then exhibited in the Guildhall, whether the account of 
 precious stones to reflect the light of the chandeliers, 
 choicest fish, exquisite birds, delicate meats, choirs of 
 beautiful females, wineM3onduits, rare confections, and 
 precious metals, be at all constrained, is problematical. 
 " Surely," cried the amazed king, " never had a prince 
 such a subject. Even the fires are filled with perfumes." 
 "If your highness," said Sir Richard, " inhibit me not, 
 I will make these fires 'still more grateful." As he 
 ceased speaking, and the king nodding, acquiesced, he 
 drew forth a packet of bonds, and, advancing to the 
 fire, resumed, " Thus do I acquit your highness of a 
 debt of 60,0007." 
 
 In 1389 Whittington superintended the festivities of 
 a masked tournament in Smithfield, lately the scene of a 
 rebel tumult. " Those who came in the king's party," 
 says Fabian, " had their armour and apparel garnished 
 with white harts, that had crowns of gold about their 
 necks. Twenty-four thus appareled led the horses of 
 the same number of ladies by chains of gold. The jousts 
 continued four days, in the presence of the king, the
 
 22 ROMANCE OF LOXDON. 
 
 queen, and the whole court, his majesty himself giving 
 proofs of his skill and dexterity. During the whole 
 time open house was kept, at the king's expense, at the 
 Bishop of London's palace, for the entertainment of all 
 persons of distinction." 
 
 To return to the Cat : there is still another explana- 
 tion. Richard Gough, the antiquary, believes that the 
 cat, if not a rebus for some ship by which "VYhittington 
 made his fortune, was the companion of his arm-chair, 
 like Montaigne's. 
 
 The subject is treated with excellent humour by 
 Foote, in his comedy of the Nabob, where he makes 
 Sir Matthew Mite satirically thus address the Society 
 of Antiquaries : 
 
 " The point I mean to clear up is an error crept 
 into the life of that illustrious magistrate, the great 
 Whittington, and his no less eminent cat : and in this 
 disquisition four material points are in question : 1st. 
 Did Whittington ever exist ? 2nd. Was Whittington 
 Lord Mayor of London ? 3rd. Was he really pos- 
 sessed of a cat ? 4th. Was that cat the source of his 
 wealth? That Whittington lived, no doubt can be 
 made ; that he was Lord Mayor of London is equally 
 true ; but as to his cat, that, gentlemen, is the Gordian 
 Knot to untie. And here, gentlemen, be it permitted 
 me to define what a cat is. A cat is a domestic, whis- 
 kered, four-footed animal, whose employment is catch- 
 ing of mice ; but let puss have been ever so subtle, let 
 puss have been ever so successful, to what could puss' 
 captures amount ? No tanner can curry the skin of a 
 mouse, no family make a meal of the meat ; conse- 
 quently, no cat could give Whittington his wealth. 
 From whence, then, does this error proceed ? Be that
 
 "WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT." 23 
 
 my care to point out. The commerce this worthy 
 merchant carried on was chiefly confined to our coasts : 
 for this purpose he constructed a vessel, which, for its 
 agility and lightness, he aptly christened a cat. Nay, 
 to this our day, gentlemen, all our coals from New- 
 castle are imported in nothing but cats. From thence 
 it appears, that it was not the whiskered, four-footed, 
 mouse-killing cat, that was the source of the magis- 
 trate's wealth ; but the coasting, sailing, coal-carrying 
 cat : that, gentlemen, was Whittington's cat." 
 
 There is a strange mixture of banter with fact in the 
 above passage. Now, when Whittington was yet a boy, 
 the burning of coal was considered such a public 
 nuisance that it was prohibited by Act of Parliament 
 under pain of death ; but, singular enough, by the 
 time he had been thrice Lord Mayor of London, 1418, 
 the importation of coal formed a considerable branch of 
 the commerce of the Thames ; and although a person 
 was once executed for a breach of this law, it is supposed 
 that a dispensation was made in Whittington's favour ; 
 for from the first opening of the coal trade in England, 
 and for ages after, it had a reputation for making for- 
 tunes only exceeded by that of the mines of Golconda 
 and Peru. The catta, or collier, is, to this day, called a cat. 
 
 The spot at Highgate Hill, whereon the legend 
 states Whittington stopped when he heard the sound 
 of Bow bells, which he imagined prophesied his be- 
 coming Lord Mayor, is believed to have been originally 
 the site of a wayside cross, belonging to the formerly 
 adjacent lazar-house, or hospital, and Chapel of St. 
 Anthony ; this memorial was removed, and Whittington 
 is stated to have placed there an obelisk, surmounted 
 by a cross, which remained until 1795, when was
 
 24 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 erected another stone, which has since been twice re- 
 newed. The hospital cross would thus appear to have 
 suggested the Whittington monument, which popular 
 belief has, from time to time, renewed. 
 
 The. greatest similitude of the Cat story is found 
 in the Eastern fable. Sir William Gore Ouseley relates, 
 on the authority of a Persian MS., that, in the tenth 
 century, one Keis, the son of a poor widow in Siraf, 
 embarked for India, with his sole property, a cat. There 
 he fortunately arrived at a time when jthe palace was so 
 infested by mice, or rats, that they carried off the king's 
 food, and persons were employed to drive them from the 
 royal banquet. Keis produced his cat ; the noxious 
 animals soon disappeared; and magnificent rewards 
 were bestowed on the adventurer of Siraf, who re- 
 turned to that city.* 
 
 CKOSBY PLACE, SHAKSPEARE, AND KICHAKD III. 
 
 THIS interesting domestic mansion, in Bishopsgate- 
 street, presents a specimen of architecture which is as 
 good as any Perpendicular work remaining of the kind : 
 it was commenced building by Sir John Crosbie, about 
 1470 ; and scarcely was it completed before its munifi- 
 cent founder died. Stow describes the mansion as " built 
 of stone and timber, very large and beautiful, and the 
 highest at that time in London." Eight years subsequent 
 to Crosbie's death, 1483, we find in possession no less 
 a person than Richard Plantagenet, Duke of Gloucester, 
 afterwards King Richard III. He was, probably, a 
 tenant under Sir John Crosbie's executors. Arriving 
 in London on the 4th of May, 1483, Fabian tells us, 
 
 * The Rev. Mr. Lysons, in his ingenious volume upon this inquiry, 
 favours the legendary origin.
 
 CROSBY PLACE AND SHAKSPEARE. 25 
 
 the Duke caused the king to be removed to the Tower, 
 and the Duke lodged himself in Crosby Place. We 
 learn also from Holinshed that "by little and little 
 all folke withdrew from the Tower, and drew unto 
 Crosbie's in Bishopsgate Street, where the Protector 
 kept his household. The Protector had the resort ; the 
 king in manner desolate." Here, according to tra- 
 dition, the crown was offered to him by the mayor and 
 citizens on the 25th of June, 1483. On the 27th he 
 was proclaimed; and on the following day, he left 
 Crosby Place for his palace of Westminster. 
 
 From the circumstance of Richard's residence here 
 (says the Rev. T. Hugo), this mansion derives one of 
 its special attractions. Not simply, however, from the 
 fact itself, but from the notice which it has on this ac- 
 count received from one, who has only to make a place 
 the scene of his matchless impersonations in order to 
 confer on it an immortality of interest. In this man- 
 ner, one greater than Richard Plantagenet has done 
 that for Crosby Place, which the mere fact that it was 
 the home of a king would not of itself impart. Thrice 
 in the play of Richard III., our own Shakspeare has 
 referred to it by name. First, in Act I. Scene 2, we 
 have the Duke, reconciled at length to the Lady Anne, 
 thus addressing her : 
 
 . . . if thy poor devoted servant may 
 But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, 
 Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. 
 
 Anne. What is it ? 
 
 Glo. That it may please you leave these sad designs 
 To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, 
 And presently repair to Crosby Place ; 
 Where after I have solemnly interr'd, 
 At Chertsey monastery, this noble king, 
 And wet his grave with my repentant tears, 
 I will with all expedient duty see you.
 
 26 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 The reunion was here (we will not censure the slight 
 anachronism on the poet's part), and it led to Gloucester's 
 marriage with the lady whose vituperation of him had 
 been so unmeasured. 
 
 In another scene, 3, Act I., where he commissions 
 his assassins to murder Clarence, he adds 
 When you have done, repair to Crosby Place. 
 
 And again, in Act III. Scene 1, with Buckingham 
 and Catesby, where Gloucester sends the letter to sound 
 Hastings with reference to his designs upon the crown, 
 he says at parting 
 
 Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we sleep ? 
 Catesby. You shall, my lord. 
 Glo. At Crosby Place, there shall you find us both. 
 
 Come, let us sup betimes ; that afterwards 
 We may digest our complots in some form. 
 
 Here the supper was eaten, and the complots were 
 digested. Crosby Place, Shakspeare, and Richard, are 
 thus identified. It has been said that " the reason why 
 this building received the attention which it has from 
 Shakspeare, was from some association existing in his 
 own mind." Doubtless ; but the writer considers that 
 " it is not too much to suppose that he "had been ad- 
 mitted in the humble guise of a player to entertain the 
 guests having assembled in the banqueting hall," and had 
 thus seen and admired its beauties. This Mr. Hugo is 
 disposed to regard as a most gratuitous fancy. We are 
 indebted to Mr. Hunter, in his interesting illustrations 
 of the life, studies, and writings of Shakspeare, for the 
 knowledge of the fact that, by an assessment of the 
 date of October 1, 1598, the 40th of Elizabeth, Shak- 
 speare is proved to have been an inhabitant of the
 
 CROSBY PLACE AND SIIAKSPEARE. 27 
 
 parish of St. Helenas, in which Crosby Place is situated. 
 He is assessed in the sum of 51. 13s. 4rf., not an in- 
 considerable sum in those days. Distinguished by the 
 special favour of Queen Elizabeth and her successor, 
 the personal friend of such men as Southampton, 
 Pembroke, and Montgomery, the " star of poets," was 
 often, it is hoped, a welcome visitor at Crosby Place, 
 and looked up at those graceful timbers, and that 
 elegant oriel, from an honoured seat at the high table. 
 The lady who tenanted the house during some of the 
 best known years of Shakspeare's life was the Dowager 
 Countess of Pembroke, Sydney's sister, Pembroke's 
 mother, immortalised by rare Ben Jonson : and it is 
 not too much to say that " gentle " Will found himself 
 here not unfrequently, and ever as a caressed and 
 honoured guest. Transactions of the London and Mid- 
 dlesex Archaeological Society. 
 
 SOKKOWS OF SANCTUAKY. 
 
 THE histories of the privileged precincts in the me- 
 tropolis, known as sanctuaries, have many touching 
 episodes. Thus, Miss Halsted, in her historical memoir 
 on Richard III., relates, that " To sanctuary Richard 
 of Gloucester removed the Lady Anne, when, says the 
 chronicler of Croyland, he * discovered the maiden in 
 the attire of a kitchen-girl in London,' in which de- 
 grading garb Clarence had concealed her ; and Gloucester 
 ' caused her to be placed in the Sanctuary of St. Mar- 
 tin,' while he openly and honourably sought from the 
 king his assent to their marriage. The Lady Anne 
 had been the playmate of Gloucester's childhood, and
 
 28 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 the object of his youthful affections. Before either had 
 passed the age of minority, she had drunk deeply of the 
 cup of adversity ; from being the affianced bride of the 
 heir-apparent to the throne, and receiving homage at the 
 French court as Princess of Wales, she was degraded 
 to assume the disguise of a kitchen-girl in London, 
 reduced to utter poverty by the attainder of herself 
 and parents. Such was the condition of Warwick's 
 proud but destitute child, the ill-fated co-heiress of 
 the Nevilles, the Beauchamps, the Despencers, and in 
 whose veins flowed the blood of the highest and noblest 
 in the land. The Croyland historian exonerates Richard 
 from the unfounded charge of seeking the affection of 
 ' young Edward's bride ' before the tears of * widow- 
 hood ' had ceased to flow ; and equally so of his out- 
 raging a custom most religiously and strictly observed 
 in the fifteenth century, which rendered it an offence 
 against the Church and society at large for * a widow ' 
 to espouse a second time before the first year of mourn- 
 ing had expired." 
 
 The Sanctuary of Westminster, the precinct under 
 the protection of the abbot and monks of Westminster, 
 adjoined Westminster Abbey, on the west and north 
 sides. In this sanctuary, Edward Y. was "born in 
 sorrow, and baptised like a poor man's child." In 1483, 
 her cause being lost, and the Duke of Gloucester 
 having seized the young Edward, the queen " gate 
 herself in all the hast possible, with her yoonger son 
 and her daughters, out of the palace of Westminster, 
 in which she then lay, into the sanctuarie, lodging her- 
 self and her company there in the abbot's place." 
 When the Archbishop came from York Place to deliver 
 the Great Seal to her, he arrived before day. " About
 
 SORROWS OF SANCTUARY. 29 
 
 her he found much heavinesse, rumble, hast, and busi- 
 nesse, carriage and conveiance of her stuffe into sanc- 
 tuarie, chests, coiFers, packers, fardels, trussed all on 
 men's backes, no man unoccupied, some lading, some 
 going, some discharging, some comming for more, some 
 breaking downe the wals to bring in the next way. 
 The Queen herselfe sate alone on the rushes all deso- 
 late and dismaied, whom the Archbishop comforted in 
 the best manner he could, shewing her that he trusted 
 the matter was nothing so sore as she tooke it for, and 
 that he was put in good hope and out of feare by the 
 message sent him from the Lord Chamberlaine." "Ah ! 
 wo worth him," quoth she, " for he is one of them that 
 laboureth to destroy me and my blood." The Arch- 
 bishop returned " yet in the dawning of the day, by 
 
 which time he might in his chamber-window see all the 
 
 ~ 
 
 Thames full of boates of the Duke of Gloucester's ser- 
 vants, watching that no man should go to sanctuary, 
 nor none pass unsearched." Soon after, the Cardinal 
 and the Lords of the Council came from the treacherous 
 Protector, desiring her to surrender up her child. 
 " She verilie thought she could not keepe him there, 
 nowe besett in such places aboute. At the last, shee 
 tooke the yoong Duke by the hand, and said unto the 
 Lordes, ' Heere I diliver him, and his brother in him, 
 to keepe, into your handes, of whome I shall aske them 
 both afore God and the worlde.' .... Therewithal! 
 shee said unto the child, ' Farewell ! mine owne sweete 
 sonne, God sende you good keeping ; let mee kisse you 
 yet once ere you goe, for God knoweth when wee shall 
 kisse together againe.' And therewith shee kissed him, 
 and blessed him, turned her backe and wept, and went 
 her waie, leaving the child weeping as faste."
 
 30 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 THE HUNGEEFOEDS AT CHASING CROSS. 
 
 THE histories of the noble houses which anciently 
 skirted the northern bank of the Thames, between 
 London Bridge and Westminster, present many dark 
 deeds, vicissitudes of fortune, and terrible enormities 
 of crime. One of these mansions was centuries ago a 
 portion of the possessions of the Hungerfords of Wilt- 
 shire ; and, although the face of the property was 
 materially changed two centuries ago, the Hungerford 
 name lingered in the market, bridge, and street, until 
 last year. 
 
 Nearly three centuries and a half ago, one of this 
 family, Dame Agnes Hungerford, was attainted of 
 murder, her goods were forfeited to the king's grace, 
 and the lady suffered execution at Tybourn, on the 
 20th of February, 1523, and was buried in the church 
 of the Grey Friars, of which we have the following 
 record in their chronicle : " And this yere in feverelle 
 the xxth day was the lady Alys Hungrford was lede 
 from the Tower unto Holborne, and there put into a 
 carte at the churchyard with one of her servanttes, and 
 so caryed unto Tyborne, and there both hongyd, and 
 she burryed at the Gray freeres, in the nether end of 
 the myddes of the church on the North syde." 
 
 A great mystery hangs about the records of this 
 heinous crime. Stow states that the lady died for 
 murdering her husband, which is, by no means, clear. 
 No other Alice Lady Hungerford, identifiable with 
 the culprit, could be discovered but the second of the 
 three wives of Sir Walter, who was summoned to Par- 
 liament as Lord Hungerford of Heytesbury, in 1536 ; 
 and, considering that the extreme cruelty of that person
 
 THE HUNGERFORDS AT CHARING CROSS. 31 
 
 to all his wives is recorded in a letter written by the 
 third and last of them, and that his career was at last 
 terminated with the utmost disgrace in 1540, when he 
 was beheaded (suffering at the same time as the fallen 
 minister, Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex), it was 
 deemed not improbable that the unfortunate lady might 
 have been condemned for some desperate attempt upon 
 the life of so bad a husband which had not actually 
 effected its object, or even that her life and character 
 had been sacrificed to a false and murderous accusation. 
 
 In this state the mystery remained until the discovery 
 of the inventory of the goods of the lady attainted ; 
 when, although the particulars of the tragedy remain 
 still undeveloped, we find that the culprit must have 
 been a different person from the lady already noticed ; 
 and the murdered man, if her husband, of course not 
 the Lord Walter. 
 
 It is ascertained by the document before us, that the 
 Lady Hungerford who was hung at Tybourn on the 
 23rd of February, 1523, was really a widow, and that 
 she was certainly attainted of felony and murder ; 
 moreover, that her name was Agnes, not Alice, as 
 stated in the Grey Friars' chronicle. This inventory 
 further shows that the parties were no other than the 
 heads of the Hungerford family ; and it is made evi- 
 dent that the lady was the widow of Sir Edward 
 Hungerford, the father of Walter, Lord Hungerford, 
 already mentioned; and we are led to infer that it 
 was Sir Edward himself who had been poisoned or 
 otherwise murdered by her agency. It is a remarkable 
 feature of the inventory, that many items of it are de- 
 scribed in the first person, and consequently from the 
 lady's own dictation ; and towards the end is a list of
 
 32 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 " the rayment of my husband's, which is in the keping 
 of my son-in-lawe." By this expression is to be un- 
 derstood step-son, and that the person so designated 
 was Sir Walter Hungerford, Sir Edward's son and heir. 
 From this conclusion it follows that the lady was not 
 Sir Walter's mother, who appears in the pedigree as 
 Jane daughter of John Lord Zouche of Haryngworth, 
 but a second wife, whose name has not been recorded 
 by the genealogists of the family. 
 
 To this circumstance must be attributed much of 
 the difficulty that has hitherto enveloped this investiga- 
 tion. The lady's origin and maiden name are still un- 
 known. The inventory describes her as " Agnes, Lady 
 Hungerford, wydowe ; " and there is evidence to show 
 that she was the second wife of Sir Edward Hunger- 
 ford, of Heytesbury, who, in his will, after bequeath- 
 ing small legacies to churches and friends, gives the 
 residue of his goods to "Agnes Hungerforde my 
 wife." 
 
 But though the inventory assists materially in clear- 
 ing up three points in this transaction, viz. 1, the 
 lady's Christian name ; 2, whose wife she had been ; 
 and, 3, that her crime was " felony and murder ;" the 
 rest of the story remains as much as ever wrapped in 
 mystery. It .is not yet certain who was the person 
 murdered ; and of the motives, place, time, and all 
 other particulars, we are wholly ignorant. Stow, the 
 chronicler, who repeats what he found in the Grey 
 Friars' Chronicle, certainly adds to that account the 
 words, " for murdering her husband" But, as Stow 
 was not born until two years after Lady Hungerford's 
 execution, and did not compile his own chronicle until 
 forty years after it, and as we know not whether he was
 
 THE HUNGERFORDS AT CHARING CROSS. 33 
 
 speaking only from hearsay, or on authority, the fact 
 that it was the husband still remains to be proved. 
 
 Excepting on the supposition that the Lady Agnes 
 was a perfect monster among women, it is almost in- 
 conceivable that she should have murdered a husband 
 who, only a few weeks, or days, before his death, in 
 the presence of eleven gentlemen and clergymen known 
 to them both, signed a document by which he made to 
 her (besides the jointure from lands) a free and abso- 
 lute gift of all his personal property, including the 
 accumulated valuables of an ancient family ; and this, 
 to the entire exclusion of his only son and heir ! When 
 the character of that son and heir, notoriously cruel to 
 his own wives, and subsequently sent to the scaffold 
 for an ignominious offence, is considered ; and when it 
 is further recollected that he was not the son, but only 
 the step-son of this lady, certain suspicions arise which 
 more than ever excite one's curiosity to raise still 
 higher the curtain that hides the tragedy. 
 
 The Inventory includes a long and curious catalogue 
 of the lady's own dress and personal ornaments ; with 
 a list of some obligations or bonds for money ; some 
 items of household stuff remaining at her husband's 
 house at Charing Cross ; and lastly the raiment of her 
 husband, which was in the keeping of her son-in-law. 
 These curious details are abridged from a Paper in the 
 Arch&ologia, vol. xxxviii., by J. G. Nichols, F.S.A., 
 and the Rev. J. Jackson, F.S.A. 
 
 There is another singular story of the Hungerford 
 family, which may have originated from two of its 
 members having met with ignominious deaths. The 
 legend is of the device of a toad being introduced into 
 the armorial bearings of the Hungerfords, in memory 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 of the degradation of some member of the family. 
 This tale, the Rev. Mr. Jackson pronounces in every 
 way nonsensical. " Argent, three toads sable," is cer- 
 tainly one of their old quarterings ; as may be seen 
 upon one of the monuments in the chapel at Farleigh 
 Castle, near Bath. " But," says Mr. Jackson, " it was 
 borne by the Hungerfords for a very different reason. 
 Robert, the second Lord, who died A.D. 1459, had 
 married the wealthy heiress of the Cornish family of 
 Botreaux ; and this was one of the shields used by her 
 family, being, in fact, nothing more than an allusion, not 
 uncommon in heraldry, to the name. This was spelled 
 variously, Botreaux or Boterelles ; and the device was 
 probably assumed from the similarity of the name of the 
 old French word Botterol, a toad (see Cotgrave), or the 
 old Latin word Botterella. The marriage with the Bot- 
 treaux heiress, and the assumption of her arms, having 
 taken place many years before any member of the Hun- 
 gerford family was attainted or executed (as some of them 
 afterwards were), the popular story falls to the ground." 
 We now come to a wilder trait of the Hungerford 
 family, in an eccentric memorial of one of its members. 
 Sir Edward Hungerford, who was created a Knight of 
 the Bath at the coronation of Charles II., is known as 
 " the spendthrift :" he is said to have given 500 guineas 
 for a wig to figure in at some ball ; to keep up his fool- 
 ish game, he sold, at one time, twenty-eight manors ; and 
 he pulled down part of his large town-house, Charing 
 Cross, and converted the other portion into tenements 
 and a market, in the year 1650. It is curious to find 
 dedicated to " the virtuous and most ingenious" Edward 
 Hungerford, &c. a son of the spendthrift Sir Edward, 
 a small volume entitled " Humane Prudence, or the Art
 
 JANE SHORE. 35 
 
 by which a Man may Advance himself and his Fortune ;" 
 this book aiming to do for the son what his father, the 
 dissipator of the Hungerford estates, most grossly 
 neglected to set an example of prudence to his son. 
 The glory of the Hungerfords was not forgotten in 
 the market-house ; for, in a niche on the north side, 
 was placed a bust of one of the family in a large wig 
 Sir Edward, in the 500-guinea wig ! Beneath Was a 
 pompous Latin inscription, with the date of its erec- 
 tion, 1682. 
 
 We remember the bewigged bust, which disappeared 
 with the old market-house ; but the evil genius still 
 hovered over the site of Hungerford House, and in 
 more than name, in the failure of New Hungerford 
 Market, was prolonged the misfortune so long asso- 
 ciated with the Hungerford family* 
 
 JANE SHOKE, HER TRUE HISTORY. 
 
 NEITHER of our historians gives the name of this noted 
 woman's parents. Sir Thomas More says : "What her 
 father's name was, or where she was born, is certainly 
 not known ; " but both More and Stow state she was 
 born in London. She was married "somewhat too 
 soon" to William Shore, goldsmith and banker, of 
 Lombard Street, her age 16 or 17 years. She lived 
 with Shore seven years, and about 1470 she became 
 concubine to King Edward IV., " the most beautiful 
 man of his time." In his resplendent court she de- 
 lighted all by her beauty, pleasant behaviour, and 
 proper wit; for she could read well and write, which 
 few of the brightest ladies then could. 
 
 u 2
 
 36 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 Edward died in 1482 ; and, within two months, 
 Jane was accused by Gloucester, the usurper, of sor- 
 cery and witchcraft : he caused her to be deprived of 
 the whole of her property, about 3,000 marks, equal 
 now to about 20,0007. She was then committed to the 
 Tower, but was released for want of proof of sorcery. 
 She was next committed, by the Sheriffs, to Ludgate 
 prison, charged with having been the concubine of 
 Hastings, for which she walked in penance. Gloucester 
 then consigned her to the severity of the church : she 
 was carried to the Bishop's palace, clothed in a white 
 sheet, with a taper in her hand, and from thence con- 
 ducted to St. Paul's cathedral and the cross, before 
 which she made a confession of her only fault. " Every 
 other virtue bloomed in this ill-fated fair with the 
 fullest vigour. She could not resist the solicitations of 
 a youthful monarch, the handsomest man of his time. 
 On his death she was reduced to necessity, scorned by 
 the world, and cast off by her husband, with whom she 
 was paired in her childish years, and forced to fling 
 herself into the arms of Hastings." 
 
 " In her penance she went," says Holinshed, " in 
 countenance and pace demure, so womanlie, that albeit 
 she were out of all araie, save her kertle onlie, yet went 
 she so faire and lovelie, namelie, while the wondering 
 of the people cast a comlie rud in her cheeks (of which 
 she before had most misse), that hir great shame wan 
 hir much praise among those that were more amorous 
 of hir bodie, than curious of hir soule. And manie good 
 folks that hated her living (and glad were to see sin 
 corrected), yet pitied they more hir penance, than 
 rejoiced therein, when they considered that the Pro-
 
 JANE SHORE. 37 
 
 lector procured it more of a corrupt intent than any 
 virtuous affection." 
 
 Howe, in his play, has thrown this part of her story 
 into this poetical dress : 
 
 Submissive, sad, and lonely was her look ; 
 A burning taper in her hand she bore ; 
 And on her shoulders, carelessly confused, 
 With loose neglect her lovely tresses hung ; 
 Upon her cheek a faintish flush was spread ; 
 Feeble she seemed, and sorely smit with pain ; 
 While, barefoot as she trod the flinty pavement, 
 Her footsteps all along were marked with blood. 
 Yet silent still she passed, and unrepining ; 
 Her streaming eyes bent ever on the earth, 
 Except when, in some bitter pang of sorrow, 
 To heaven she seemed, in fervent zeal, to raise, 
 And beg that mercy man denied her here* 
 
 After her penance, she was again committed to Lud- 
 gate, where she was kept close prisoner. The king's 
 solicitor would have married her but for Richard's 
 interference. After his death, at Bosworth, Jane 
 was liberated from Ludgate. There is a tradition 
 that she strewed flowers at the funeral of Henry VII. 
 Calamitous was the rest of her life ; and she died in 
 1533 or 1534, when more than fourscore years old ; 
 and no stone tells where her remains are deposited. 
 For almost half a century, Jane Shore was a living 
 monitress to avoid illicit love, however fascinating ; 
 and 'the biographer, poet, and historian made her such 
 for nearly three centuries after death : in ancient 
 chronicle and ballad, in historical record, in chap-book, 
 and upon our stage, the grave moral has lasted to our 
 time. Sir Thomas More says that Jane begged her 
 bread; and the dramatist has adopted this error. A
 
 38 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 black-letter ballad, in the Pepys collection, makes 
 Jane die of hunger after doing penance, and a man to 
 be hanged for relieving her ; both which are fictions, 
 and led to the popular error of Jane's being starved in 
 a ditch, and thus giving the name to Shoreditch : 
 
 I could not get one bit of bread, 
 Whereby my hunger might be fed ; 
 Nor drink, but such as channels yield, 
 Or stinking ditches in the field. 
 Thus, weary of my life at lengthe, 
 I yielded up my vital strength 
 Within a ditch of loathsome scent, 
 Where carrion dogs did much frequent : 
 The which now, since my dying daye, 
 Is Shoreditch call'd, as writers saye. 
 
 But this ballad is not older than the middle of the 
 17th century; and no mention is made of Jane so 
 dying in a ballad by Th. Churchyard, dated 1587. 
 Dr. Percy erroneously refers Shoreditch to " its being 
 a common sewer, vulgarly shore, or drain." It is also 
 called Sorditch ; which is the most correct, according to 
 the above explanation. Stow declares this ancient 
 manor, parish, and street, of London, to have been called 
 Soersditch more than 400 years before his time ; and 
 Weever states it to have been named from Sir John 
 de Soerdich, lord of the manor temp. Edward III., and 
 who was with that king in his wars with France. 
 Two miles north-east of Uxbridge is Ickenham Hall, 
 the seat of the Soerdich family, who have been owners 
 of the manor from the time of Edward III.
 
 39 
 
 STOEY OF A KING'S HEAD. 
 
 STOW relates the following strange discovery of the 
 disposal of the head of James IV. of Scotland, in the 
 chronicler's description of the Church of St. Michael, 
 Wood Street. 
 
 ' ( There is," he says, " but without any outward 
 monument, the head of James IV., King of Scotts, 
 of that name, slain at Flodden Field, and buried here 
 by this occasion. After the battle, the body of the said 
 king being found, was closed in lead, and conveyed 
 from thence to London, and so to the monastery of 
 Sheen, in Surrey, where it remained for a time, in what 
 order I am not certain. But since the dissolution of 
 that house in the reign of Edward VI., Henry Gray, 
 Duke of Suffolk, being lodged and keeping house there, 
 I have been shewed the same body so lapped in lead 
 close to the head and body, was thrown into a waste 
 room amongst the old timber, lead and other rubble. 
 Since the which time, workmen there (for their foolish 
 pleasure) hewed off his head. And Launcelot Young, 
 master-glazier to Queen Elizabeth, feeling a sweet 
 savour to come from thence, and seeing the same dried 
 from moisture, and yet the form remaining with the 
 hair of the head and beard red, brought it to London 
 to his house in Wood Street, where (for a time) he kept 
 it for the sweetness ; but in the end caused the sexton 
 of that church to bury it amongst other bones taken 
 out of the charnel, &c." 
 
 The above statement is contradicted by the Scottish 
 historians ; but Weever is positive that Sheen was the 
 place of James's burial. There is also another story 
 of a body with a chain round the waist, said to have
 
 40 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 been found in the moat of Home Castle, and by 
 the tradition identified with that of James IV. of 
 Scotland ; but this has been disproved by Sir Walter 
 Scott. 
 
 A Correspondent of the Athenaum, 1852, writes: 
 " The curious French Gazette records that the king 
 was killed within a lance's length of the Earl of Sur- 
 rey ; and Lord Dacre, in his letter to the Lords of the 
 Council (orig. Cal. B. ii. 115), writes that he found 
 the body of James, and, after informing Surrey by 
 writing, brought it to Berwick ; whilst a tablet, which 
 was fixed to the tomb of this very Earl of Surrey, after- 
 wards second Duke of Norfolk, in Thetford Abbey, and 
 recounted the principal occurrences in his eventful life 
 (see Weever and a MS. copy of the time of Eliz. Jul. 
 c. vii.), stated, * And this done [the battle], the said 
 Earl went to Berwick to establish all things well and 
 in good order, and sent for the dead body of the King of 
 Scotts to Berwick ; and when the ordnance of the King 
 of Scotts was brought out of the field and put in good 
 suretie, and all other things in good order, then the 
 said Earl took his journey towards York, and there 
 abode during the King's pleasure, and carried with him 
 the dead body of the aforesaid King of Scotts, and lay 
 there until such time as the King's highness came from 
 beyond the sea after his winning of Turwin and Torney. 
 And then his highness sent for him to meet him at 
 Richmond, and so he did, and delivered unto his high- 
 ness the dead body of the King of Scotts, which dead 
 body was delivered into the Charter-house there, and 
 thereto abyde during the King's pleasure? The person 
 of the King of Scotland must have been as well known 
 to Lord Dacre from his recent conferences with him,
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH BY TORCHLIGHT. 41 
 
 as, to the Earl of Surrey from his residence at the Court 
 of Scotland on the occasion of his conducting the Prin- 
 cess, afterwards Queen Margaret, thither; and the 
 monastery of Sheen ( Shene) alluded to by Stow, having 
 been occupied by monks of the Carthusian order, will 
 be easily recognised as the Charter House of Richmond 
 spoken of in the epitaph of the Duke of Norfolk." 
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH BY TOKCHLIGHT. 
 
 BISHOP GOODMAN, in his Memoirs of the Court of 
 King James I. (the manuscript of which is preserved 
 in the Bodleian Library), has left this curious account 
 of Queen Elizabeth's popularity, as well as a portraiture 
 of the Virgin Queen : 
 
 " In the year 1588, I did then live at the upper end 
 of the Strand, near St. Clement's Church, when sud- 
 denly there came a report unto us (it was in December, 
 much about five of the clock at night, very dark), 
 that the Queen was gone to council, and if you will see 
 the Queen, you must come quickly. Then we all ran ; 
 when the court gates were set open, and no man did 
 hinder us from coming in. Then we came where there 
 was a far greater company than was usual at Lenten 
 Sermons ; and when we had stayed there an hour, and 
 that the yard was full, there being a number of torches, 
 the Queen came out in great state. Then we cried, 
 'God save your Majesty ! God save your Majesty !' 
 Then the Queen turned unto us, and said, ' God bless 
 you all, my good people ! ' Then we cried again, ' God 
 save your Majesty ! God save your Majesty !' Then 
 the Queen said again unto us, * You may well have a
 
 42 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 greater prince, but you shall never have a more loving 
 prince ! ' and so, looking one upon another for a while, 
 the Queen departed. This wrought such an impression 
 upon us, for shows and pageants are ever best seen by 
 torchlight, that all the way long, we did nothing but 
 talk what an admirable queen she was, and how we 
 would adventure our lives to do her service. Now this 
 was in a year when she had most enemies, and how 
 easily might they then have gotten into the crowd and 
 multitude to have done her a mischief ! 
 
 " Take her then in her yearly journeys at her com- 
 ing to London, where you must understand that she 
 did desire to be seen and to be magnified ; but in her 
 old age she had not only wrinkles, but she had a goggle 
 throat, a great gullet hanging out, as her grandfather 
 Henry VII. is ever painted withal. [Walpole, in his 
 Royal and Noble Authors, has given the impression 
 of one of Elizabeth's coins, which was struck appa- 
 rently a few years before her death. It represents her 
 very old and ugly.] And truly, there was then a re- 
 port that the ladies had gotten false looking-glasses, 
 that the Queen might not see her own wrinkles ; for 
 having been exceeding beautiful and fair in her youth, 
 such beauties are very aptest for wrinkles in old age. 
 
 " So then the Queen's constant custom was, a little 
 before her coronation-day, to come from Richmond to 
 London, and dine with the Lord Admiral (the Earl of 
 Effingham) at Chelsea ; and to set out from Chelsea 
 at dark night, where the Lord Mayor and the Alder- 
 men were to meet her, and here, all the way long, from 
 Chelsea to Whitehall, was full of people to see her, and 
 truly any man might very easily have come to her 
 coach. Now, if she thought that she had been in
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH BY TORCHLIGHT. 43 
 
 danger, how is it credible that she should so adventure 
 herself? King James, who was as harmless a king as 
 any was in our age, and consequently had as few enemies, 
 yet wore quilted doublets, stiletto-proof: the Queen had 
 many enemies ; all her wars depended upon her life. 
 She had likewise very fearful examples : the first Duke 
 of Guise was shot ; Henry III., the French king, was 
 stabbed ; the Duke of Orange was pistoled ; and 
 these might make the Queen take heed." 
 
 Charles Howard, Earl of Effingham, above named, 
 was a great favourite of Queen Elizabeth. He was 
 the only person who had influence sufficient to persuade 
 the Queen to go to bed in her last sickness ; she having 
 an apprehension of some prediction, as it was thought, 
 that she should die in it. 
 
 ROMANCE OF THE BEAUCHAMP TOWER. 
 
 IT has been fancifully said that "walls have ears." 
 The walls of the " prison-lodgings " in the Tower of 
 London, however, bear more direct testimony of their 
 former occupants ; for here the thoughts, sorrows, and 
 sufferings of many a noble soul and crushed spirit are 
 literally cut in stone. The Beauchamp or Cobham 
 Tower, a curious specimen of the military architecture 
 of the 12th and 13th centuries, is the most interesting 
 portion of our ancient prison fortress ; and in its recent 
 repair, the records of many noteworthy persons con- 
 fined within its walls have been carefully preserved. 
 
 The Tower originally derived its name from Thomas 
 de Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, who was imprisoned 
 here in 1397. It consists of three apartments, one 
 above the other, besides a few small passages and cells.
 
 44 ROMANCE OP LONDON. 
 
 The lower room is partly below the ground, and must 
 have been a dismal place of imprisonment. A circular 
 staircase leads to the other apartments, in which have 
 been confined so many eminent individuals. Many of 
 these have here endeavoured to shorten the tedious 
 hours by records on the stone walls of their names and 
 sentiments ; and hard must be the heart which could 
 look unmoved at many of the inscriptions. 
 
 These memorials have been cleansed by an ingenious 
 chemical process from dirt and paint. During this 
 operation many new names have been brought to light 
 which have been for long hidden from plaster, &c. 
 Amongst these is a sculptured rebus a bell inscribed 
 TA. and Thomas above, the memorial of Dr. Abel, 
 chaplain to Queen Catherine of Arragon. Thomas 
 Abel was a man of learning, a great master of instru- 
 mental music, and well skilled in modern languages. 
 These qualifications introduced him at Court, and he 
 became domestic chaplain to Queen Catherine of 
 Arragon, wife of Henry VIII., and served her Ma- 
 jesty in the above-mentioned capacity. When the 
 validity of the marriage of the Queen and Henry VIII. 
 became a question, the affection which Dr. Abel bore 
 towards his mistress, led him into the controversy to 
 which it gave rise, and he opposed the divorce both by 
 words and writings. By giving in to the delusion of 
 the " Holy Maid of Kent " he incurred a misprision, 
 and was afterwards condemned and executed in Smith- 
 field, together with others, for denying the King's 
 supremacy, and affirming his marriage with Queen 
 Catherine to be good. 
 
 Another sculpture a kneeling figure portrays 
 Robert Bainbridge, who was imprisoned for writing a
 
 THE BEAUCHAMP TOWEE. 45 
 
 letter offensive to Queen Elizabeth ; James Gilmor, 
 1569 ; Thomas Talbot, 1462. This is the oldest in- 
 scription which has been found in the prison: this 
 gentleman here was in 1464, and had kept Henry VI. 
 prisoner at Waddington Hall, in Lancashire. 
 
 In the State Prison room is IANE. IANE cut in 
 letters of the Elizabethan style,which attract more atten- 
 tion from visitors than memorials of more elaborate 
 design and execution, These letters are supposed to 
 have been cut by Lord Guildford Dudley, as a solace, 
 when he was confined in a separate prison from his 
 unhappy wife. This is the only memorial preserved of 
 Lady Jane Grey in the Tower. 
 
 One of the most elaborate devices is that of John 
 Dvdle, Earl of Warwick, tried and condemned in 1553 
 for endeavouring to deprive Mary of the crown ; but 
 being reprieved, he died in his prison-room, where he 
 had wrought upon the wall his family's cognizance, the 
 lion, and bear, and ragged staff, underneath which is 
 his name ; the whole surrounded by oak-sprigs, roses, 
 geraniums, and honeysuckles, emblematic of the Chris- 
 tian names of his four brothers, as appears from this 
 unfinished inscription : 
 
 Yow that these beasts do wel behold and se, 
 May deme -with ease wherefore here made they be 
 Withe borders eke wherein (there may be found) 
 4 brothers' names, who list to serche the grovnd. 
 
 The names of the brothers were Ambrose, Robert, 
 Guildford, and Henry : thus, A, acorn ; R, rose ; G, 
 geranium ; and H, honeysuckle : others think the rose 
 indicates Ambrose, and the oak Robert (robur). In 
 another part is carved an oak-tree bearing acorns, signed 
 R.D. ; the work of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester.
 
 46 ROMANCE OP LONDON. 
 
 Here are several devices of the Peverils, on a cruci- 
 fix bearing a heart, wheatsheaves, a portrait, initials, 
 &c. A reference to Sir Walter Scott's novels of the 
 Fortunes of Nigel and Peveril of the Peak, shows that 
 their distinguished author had made himself acquainted 
 with the various portions of the Tower. The lower 
 right-hand inscription is one of several bearing the 
 name of Peveril. The wheatsheaves are the armorial 
 bearings of the Peverils of Derbyshire. It is by no 
 means unlikely that, on the sight of these stones, Sir 
 Walter Scott formed the plan of his novel. The room, 
 above the entrance of the Bloody Tower, in which the 
 young Princes are said to have been murdered by 
 Richard III., agrees with the account of the place of 
 meeting between Georgina Harriet, his god-daughter, 
 and Nigel. There is here a secret closet near the roof, 
 of no seeming use, except to conceal an observer from 
 the prisoners, which may have afforded the idea of the 
 " lug " in which J ames I. ensconced himself. 
 These inscriptions tell their own sad stories : 
 " O . Lord . whic . art . of . heavn . King . Graunt . 
 gras . and . Ivfe . everlastig . to . Miagh . thy . servant . 
 in . prison . alon . with * * * * Tomas Miagh." Again : 
 
 Thomas Miagh, whiche lieth here alon, 
 
 That fayne wovld from hens be gon, 
 
 By tortyre straunge mi troth was 
 
 tryed, yet of my libertie denied. 1581, Thomas Myagh. 
 
 He was a prisoner for treason, tortured with Skeving- 
 ton's irons and the rack. Next is the inscription of 
 Thomas Clarke : 
 
 " Hit is the poynt of a wyse man to try and then 
 trvste, for hapy is he whome fyndeth one that is ivst. 
 T. C." Again : " T. C. I leve in hope and I gave
 
 THE BEAUCHAMP TOWER. 47 
 
 credit to mi frinde in time did stande me moste in 
 hande, so wovlde I never do againe, excepte I hade 
 him sver in bande, and to al men wiche I so vnles, ye 
 svssteine the leke lose as I do. Vnhappie is that mane 
 whose actes doth procvre the miseri of this hovs in 
 prison to indvre. 1576, Thomas Clarke." 
 
 " Thomas Willyngar, goldsmithe. My hart is yours 
 tel dethe." By the side is a figure of a bleeding 
 " hart," and another of " dethe ;" and " T. W." and 
 " P. A." 
 
 Thomas Eose, 
 
 Within this Tower strong 
 
 Kept close 
 
 By those to whom he did no wrong. May 8th, 1666. 
 
 The figure of man, praying, underneath " Ho. Bain- 
 bridge" (1587-8). 
 
 " Thomas Bawdewin, 1585, Jvly. As vertve maketh 
 life, so sin cawseth death." 
 
 " J. C. 1538." " Learne to feare God." " Reprens . 
 le . sage . et . il . te . armera. Take wisdom, and he 
 shall arm you." 
 
 The memorial of Thomas Salmon, 1622, now let into 
 the wall of the middle room, was formerly in the upper 
 prison-lodging : it records a long captivity, and consists 
 of a shield surrounded by a circle ; above the circle 
 the name " T. Salmon ; " a crest formed of three sal- 
 mons, and the date 1622 ; underneath the circle the 
 motto Nee temere, nee timore " Neither rashly nor 
 with fear." Also a star containing the abbreviation of 
 Christ, in Greek, surrounded by the sentence, Sic 
 vive vt vivas " So live that thou mayest live." In the 
 opposite corner are the words, Et morire ne morieris 
 " And die that thou mayest die not." Surrounding a
 
 48 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 representation of Death's head, above the device, is the 
 enumeration of Salmon's confinement : " Close prisoner 
 8 moneths, 32 wekes, 224 dayes, 5376 houres." 
 
 On the ground-floor are "Walter Parlew," dated 
 " 1569 " and " 1570 " ; an anchor, and " Extrema 
 Christus." Near these is "Robart Dudley." This 
 nobleman was the third son of John Dudley, Duke of 
 Northumberland, who was beheaded on Tower Hill in 
 1553, for high treason. At his death, his sons were 
 still left in confinement, and Robert was, in 1554, ar- 
 raigned at Guildhall, on the plea of high treason, and 
 condemned to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. He 
 lay under this sentence till the following year, when he 
 and his brothers, Ambrose and Henry, were liberated 
 by command of Queen Mary, and afterwards rose into 
 high favour at the Courts of Mary and Elizabeth.* 
 
 On the ground-floor also is : 
 
 The man whom this house can not mend, 
 Hath evill becom, and worse will end. 
 
 " Round this (Beauchamp) chamber (says Mr. Hep- 
 worth Dixon), a secret passage has been discovered in 
 the masonry, in which spies were, no doubt, set to 
 listen, and report the conversation or soliloquies of pri- 
 soners, when they, poor souls, believed themselves 
 alone." The men who live in the Tower have named 
 this passage the Whispering Gallery. 
 
 The Beauchamp Tower was used as a prison for 
 male offenders only. Some years since, a door of 
 ancient oak, knotted with iron, was seen below the 
 plaster : this door opened to a sort of terrace lead- 
 
 * See Inscriptions and Devices in the Beauchamp Tower, by W. B. 
 Dick. 1853.
 
 THE BEAUCHAMP TOWER. 49 
 
 ing to the Bell Tower, containing the alarm-bell of 
 the garrison : here were confined Fisher, Bishop of 
 Rochester, and subsequently the Princess Elizabeth 
 and other illustrious captives ; in this roof-promenade 
 they took the air. The walls bear some memorials, 
 among which is " Re spice Jinem, W. D." 
 
 One of Sir Walter Raleigh's prison-lodgings is 
 thought to have been the second and third stories of 
 the Beau champ Tower ; here he devoted much time to 
 chemistry and pharmaceutical preparations. " He has 
 converted," says Sir William Wade, Lieutenant of 
 the Tower, " a little hen-house in the garden into a 
 still-house, and here he doth spend his time all the day 
 
 in distillations ; he doth show himself upon 
 
 the wall in his garden to the view of the people : " here 
 Raleigh prepared his " Rare Cordial," which, with 
 other ingredients added by Sir Kenelm Digby and Sir 
 A. Fraser, is the Confectio Aromatica of the present 
 London Pharmacopoeia. 
 
 TRAITORS' GATE, IN THE TOWER. 
 
 ONE of the most picturesque relics of this ancient 
 prison-house is the Traitors' Gate the water entrance 
 to the Tower and through which so many captives 
 passed never to return. Here the Princess Elizabeth 
 sat on the steps in the midst of rain and storm, declaring 
 that she was no traitor. Scores of pages of history 
 and events affording materials for both the poet and 
 the painter come into the memory at the mention of 
 the name of this gloomy portal. 
 
 Mr. Ferrey, the architect, remarks : " Few persons 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 can be aware of the solemn grandeur which this water- 
 gate must have presented in bygone times, when its 
 architectural features were unmutilated. Gateways 
 and barbicans to castles are usually bold and striking 
 in their design ; but a water-gate of this kind, in its 
 perfect state, must have been quite unique." The 
 internal features, however, now, can scarcely be dis- 
 cerned. The general plan of the structure consists of 
 an oblong block, each corner having an attached round 
 turret of large dimensions. The south archway, which 
 formed the water approach from the Thames, guarded 
 by a portcullis, is now effectually closed by a wharf 
 occupying the entire length of the Tower. " The 
 water," he continues, " originally flowed through the 
 base of the gate-house, and extended probably beyond 
 the north side of it to the Traitors' Steps, as they 
 were called. Here the superincumbent mass of the 
 gateway is supported by an archway of extraordinary 
 boldness, such as is not to be found in any other gate- 
 way, and is a piece of masterly construction. A stair- 
 case in the north-west turret conducts to the galleries, 
 or wall passages, formed on a level with the tops of the 
 archway. A stranger, on looking at the Traitors' 
 Gate as it is now encumbered, could possibly form an 
 idea of its ancient dignity. The whole of the upper 
 part is crammed with offices, and disfigured in every 
 possible manner ; and the gloom of the Traitors' Gate 
 is now broken up by the blatant noise of steam- 
 machinery for hoisting and packing war-weapons." 
 The vibration of the machinery has already so shaken 
 the south-eastern turret, that it is now shored up in 
 order to prevent its falling. 
 
 Mr. Ferrey adds, that the enormous size of the
 
 TRAITORS' GATE, IN THE TOWER. 51 
 
 north archway must have been for the admission of 
 several barges or vessels to pass within the present 
 boundary of the gateway walls, when the outer port- 
 cullis was closed; whilst that the Thames once pene- 
 trated further to the north. By this entrance 
 
 Went Sidney, Kussell, Ealeigh, Cranmer, More. 
 
 THE BLOODY TOWER. 
 
 ADJOINING the Wakefield, or Record Tower, is the 
 structure with the above terrific name. Here, in a 
 dark windowless room, in which one of the portcullises 
 was worked, George Duke of Clarence is said to have 
 been drowned in malmsey ; in the adjoining chamber, 
 the two princes are said to have been " smothered ;" 
 whence the name of Bloody Tower. This has been 
 much disputed ; but in a tract temp. James I. we read 
 that the above " turret our elders termed the Bloody 
 Tower ; for the bloodshed, as they say, of those infant 
 princes of Edward IV., whom Richard III., of cursed 
 memory (I shudder to mention it), savagely killed, two 
 together at one time." In the latter chamber was im- 
 prisoned Colonel Hutchinson, whose wife, daughter of 
 Sir Allen Apsley, Lieutenant of the Tower, where 
 she was born, relates the above traditions. This 
 portion was formerly called the Garden Tower ; it was 
 built temp. Edward III., and is the only ancient place 
 of security, as a state prison in the Tower : it is 
 entered through a small door in the inner ballium ; it 
 consists of a day-room and a bed-room, and the leads 
 on which the prisoner was sometimes allowed to breathe 
 the air. The last person who occupied these apartments 
 
 E 2
 
 52 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 was Arthur Thistlewood, the Cato Street conspirator. 
 Westward are the Lieutenant's Lodgings (the Lieu- 
 tenant's residence), chiefly timber-built, temp. Henry 
 VIII. ; in 1610 was added a chamber having a pro- 
 spect to all the three gates of the Tower, and enabling 
 the lieutenant to call and look to the warders. In the 
 Council Chamber the Commissioners examined Guy 
 Fawkes and his accomplices, as commemorated in a 
 Latin and Hebrew inscription upon a parti-coloured 
 marble monument ; and elsewhere in the building there 
 was discovered, about 1845, " an inscription carved on 
 an old mantelpiece relating to the Countess of Lenox, 
 grandmother of James I., ' commytede prysner to 
 thys Logynge for the Marige of her Sonne my Lord 
 Henry Darnle and the Queen of Scotlande.' " Here 
 a bust of James I. was set up, in 1608, by Sir William 
 Wade, then Lieutenant ; the walls are painted with 
 representations of men inflicting and suffering torture ; 
 and the room is reputed to be haunted ! The last per- 
 son confined in the lodgings here was Sir Francis 
 Burdett, committed April 6, 1810, for writing in Cob- 
 bett's Weekly Register. 
 
 The Bloody Tower gateway, built temp. Edward III. 
 (opposite Traitors' Gate}, is the main entrance to the 
 Inner Ward : it has massive gates and portcullis, com- 
 plete, at the southern end ; but those at the north end 
 have been removed. We read, in Weale's London, 
 p. 160, that "the gates are genuine, and the portcullis 
 is said to be the only one remaining in England fit for 
 use. The archway forms a noble specimen of the Doric 
 order of Gothic. For a prison-entrance we know of no 
 more perfect model." 
 
 It is worthy of remark that only the grim features
 
 TWO PRISONERS IN THE BELL TOWER. 53 
 
 
 
 of the Tower which tell of the dark deeds done within 
 its walls have been preserved ; for, of the Royal Pa- 
 lace, the abode of our Sovereigns to the time of 
 Charles II., no view exists. The site is now occupied 
 by wharves and machinery. 
 
 TWO PRISONERS IN THE BELL TOWER. 
 
 THE Rev. Thomas Hugo, F.S.A., in his admirable 
 paper, read to the London and Middlesex Archaeological 
 Society, upon the Bell Tower of the Tower of London, 
 thus picturesquely introduces two of the illustrious 
 tenants of this historical prison-house this gloomy dun- 
 geon, and the scarcely less gloomy chamber immediately 
 above it. Of course, the identification of particular 
 prisoners with particular spots is legendary, and we can 
 very rarely adduce precise and historical proof of the 
 correctness of such attribution. Where, however, 
 tradition has constantly gone in one direction, and 
 where, age after age, the same legend has obtained, it 
 seems to savour of perverse incredulity to hesitate to 
 accept what is not plainly and flagrantly opposed to 
 likelihood. Assuming as a fact what tradition asserts, 
 that these walls once looked upon two faces, among, 
 doubtless, many others, whose owners possess consider- 
 able attractions for the minds of Englishmen. The 
 first of the two was the venerable Fisher, Bishop of 
 Rochester, who fell under the headsman's axe for 
 denying the spiritual supremacy of Henry VIII. 
 
 The Bishop of Rochester was one of the foremost 
 men of his age, and was for many years confessor to 
 the king's grandmother, the Countess of Richmond;
 
 54 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 and it is supposed that her munificence towards our 
 two universities by founding St. John's and Christ's 
 Colleges at Cambridge, and the professorships of 
 divinity in both Oxford and Cambridge was mainly 
 owing to his pious advice and direction. He sided, as 
 was likely, against the king in the matter of Queen 
 Katharine, whose cause he warmly advocated, and, 
 as also was likely, drew down upon himself the dis- 
 pleasure of his unscrupulous sovereign. At length, 
 when called before the Lambeth council, and com- 
 manded to acknowledge the king's supremacy, he reso- 
 lutely refused to do so, and was forthwith committed 
 to the Tower. 
 
 He had now reached his eightieth year, and the cold 
 damp dungeon into which he was thrust was not calcu- 
 lated to prolong his days. Perhaps his enemies desired 
 that death should naturally remove him, and remove 
 from them also the odium which could not fail to attach 
 to all who should be instrumental in his more direct 
 and manifest destruction. His constitution, however, 
 was proof against his position, and for many months he 
 bore his privations as became a good soldier in a cause 
 on which his heart and soul were set. Out of his pain- 
 ful dungeon he wrote to Mr. Secretary Cromwell in 
 these words : " Furthermore, I beseech you, to be 
 good master to me in my necessity, for I have neither 
 suit nor yet other clothes that are necessary for me to 
 wear but that be ragged and rent shamefully. My 
 diet also, God knoweth how slender it is at many times ; 
 and now in mine age my stomack may not away with 
 but a few kinds of meat, which, if I want, I decay 
 forthwith, and fall into coughs and diseases of my body, 
 and cannot keep myself in health. And as our Lord
 
 TWO PRISONERS IN THE BELL TOWER. 55 
 
 knoweth, I have nothing left unto me to provide any 
 better, but as my brother of his own purse layeth out 
 for me to his great hindrance. Therefore, good Master 
 Secretary, I beseech you to have some pity upon me, 
 and let me have such things as are necessary for me in 
 mine age, and especially for my health. * * * Then 
 shall you bind me for ever to be your poor beadsman 
 unto Almighty God, who ever have you in His pro- 
 tection and custody." 
 
 This was written in the depth of a bitter winter, for 
 the aged writer concludes : " This, I beseech you, to 
 grant me of your charity. And thus our Lord send 
 you a merry Christmas, and a comfortable, to your 
 heart's desire. At the Tower, the 22 day of December." 
 The Bishop left this abode of persecution for his bloody 
 death on Tower Hill. 
 
 The scene again changes, and this time a very dif- 
 ferent prisoner enters the portals of the Bell Tower. 
 It is now the fair and blooming face of a young and 
 noble lady, afterwards the Queen of this great country, 
 then known by the name of the Princess Elizabeth. 
 Her sister, ever sullen and suspicious, had removed 
 her, to the danger of her life, from her home at Ash- 
 ridge, in Hertfordshire, and after necessary delay at 
 Kedborne, St. Alban's, South Mimms, and Highgate, 
 she at length, some days after the beginning of her 
 journey, arrived at Whitehall. Within a fortnight 
 she was lodged in her prison in the Tower. Doubtless 
 you know the story ; but her entrance into the fortress 
 deserves a moment's mention. The barge was directed 
 to enter by Traitors' Gate, much to the annoyance of 
 the fair prisoner. It rained hard (an old chronicler 
 says), and a certain unnamed lord offered her his cloak ;
 
 56 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 but she " put her hand back with a good dash," and 
 then, as she set her foot on the dreaded stairs, she 
 cried out aloud " Here landeth as good a subject, 
 being a prisoner, as ever landed at these stairs : and 
 before Thee, God, I speak it, having none other 
 friends but Thee." A few minutes afterwards found 
 her a fast prisoner, and, as tradition tells, in the very 
 turret to which we have been drawing your attention. 
 
 WHAT BECAME OF THE HEADS OF BISHOP FISHER 
 AND SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 FISHER, Bishop of Rochester, and Sir Thomas More, 
 were two of the most eminent persons who were exe- 
 cuted for not acknowledging King Henry VIII. as 
 supreme head of the Church of England. Bishop 
 Fisher was executed on St. Alban's Day, the 22nd of 
 June, 1535, about ten in the morning; and his head 
 was to have been erected upon Traitors' Gate, London 
 Bridge, the same night ; but that it was delayed, to be 
 exhibited to Queen Anne Boleyn. We gather these 
 particulars from a curious duodecimo, written by Hall, 
 but attributed to Dr. Thomas Baily, 1665, who further 
 relates : " The next day after his burying, the head, 
 being parboyled, was pricked upon a pole, and set on 
 high upon London Bridge, among the rest of the holy 
 Carthusians' heads that suifered death lately before 
 him. And here I cannot omit to declare unto you the 
 miraculous sight of this head, which, after it had stood 
 up the space of fourteen dayes upon the bridge, could 
 not be perceived to wast nor consume : neither for the 
 weather, which was then very hot, neither for the
 
 HEADS OF FISHER AND MORE. 57 
 
 parboyling in hot water, but grew daily fresher and 
 fresher, so that in his lifetime he never looked so well ; 
 for his cheeks being beautified with a comely red, the 
 face looked as though it had beholden the people pass- 
 ing by, and would have spoken to them ; which many 
 took for a miracle that Almighty God was pleased to 
 shew above the course of nature in thus preserving the 
 fresh and lively colour in his face, surpassing the colour 
 he had being alive, whereby was noted to the world 
 the innocence and holiness of this blessed father that 
 thus innocently was content to lose his head in defence 
 of hif Mother the Holy Catholique Church of Christ. 
 Wherefore the people coming daily to see this strange 
 sight, the passage over the bridge was so stopped with 
 their going and coming, that almost neither cart nor 
 horse could passe ; and therefore at the end of fourteen 
 daies the executioner was commanded to throw down 
 the head, in the night-time, into the River of Thames ; 
 and in the place thereof was set the head of the mpst 
 blessed and constant martyr Sir Thomas More, his 
 companion and fellow in all his troubles, who suffered 
 his passion " on Tuesday " the 6th of July next follow- 
 ing, about nine o'clock in the morning." 
 
 The bodies of Fisher and More were buried in the 
 chapel of St. Peter in the Tower; the head of More, 
 says his great-grandson, in his life of him, printed in 
 1726, "Was putt upon London Bridge, where as tray- 
 ters' heads are sett vpon poles ; and hauing remained 
 some moneths there, being to be cast into the Thames, 
 because roome should be made for diuerse others, who 
 in plentiful sorte suffered martyrdome for the same 
 supremacie, shortly after it was bought by his daughter 
 Margarett, least, as she stoutly affirmed before the
 
 58 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 councell, being called before them for the same matter, 
 it should be foode for fishes ; which she buried where 
 she thought fittest." The Chancellor's pious daughter 
 is said to have preserved this relic in a leaden case, and 
 to have ordered its interment with her own body, in 
 the Roper vault, under a chapel adjoining St. Dun- 
 stan's, Canterbury, where the head, it is stated, was seen 
 in the year 1715, and again subsequently. 
 
 Aubrey, however, states that the body of More was 
 buried in St. Luke's Church, Chelsea ; " after he 
 was beheaded, his trunke was interred in Chelsey 
 Church, near the middle of the south wall, whei% was 
 some slight monument erected, which being worn by 
 time, about 1644, Sir [John?] Lawrence, of Chelsey, 
 (no kinne to him) at his own proper costs and charges, 
 erected to his memorie a handsome inscription of 
 marble." Aubrey's Lives. The monument was again 
 restored, in 1833, by subscription. It was originally 
 erected, in 1532, by More himself, and the epitaph 
 (in Latin) was written by him. Over the tombs are 
 the crest of Sir Thomas More ; namely, a Moor's head, 
 and the arms of himself and his two wives. 
 
 EXECUTION OF LADY JANE GEEY. 
 
 THE Tower is a remarkable monument of the great, 
 yet not to its advantage ; " for the images of the chil- 
 dren of Edward IV., of Anne Boleyn, and Jane Grey, 
 and of the many innocent victims murdered in times of 
 despotism and tyranny, pass like dark phantoms before 
 the mind."
 
 EXECUTION OF LADY JANE GKET. 59 
 
 The place of execution within the Tower, on the 
 Green, was reserved for putting to death privately ; 
 and the precise spot whereon the scaffold was erected, 
 is nearly opposite the door of the Chapel of St. Peter, 
 and is marked by a large oval of dark flints. Hereon 
 many of the wisest, the noblest, the best, and the 
 fairest heads of English men and English women of 
 times long passed away, fell from such a block and 
 beneath the stroke of such an axe, as may now be seen 
 in the armouries. One of the most touching of these 
 sad scenes was the heroic end of the accomplished and 
 illustrious Lady Jane Grey. The preparations for 
 her execution are thus detailed in " The Chronicle of 
 Queen Jane": 
 
 " By this tyme was ther a scaffolde made upon the 
 grene over agaynst the White Tower, for the saide 
 lady Jane to die upon. Who with hir husband was 
 appoynted to have been put to death the fryday before, 
 but was staied tyll then, for what cause is not knowen, 
 unlesse yt were because hir father was not then come 
 into the Tower. The saide ladye being nothing at all 
 abashed, neither with feare of her own deathe, which 
 then approached, neither with the sight of the ded 
 carcase of hir husbande, when he was brought in to the 
 chappell, came fourthe, the levetenant leding hir, in the 
 same gown wherin she was arrayned, hir countenance 
 nothing abashed, neither hir eyes enything moysted with 
 teares, although her ij gentylwomen, mistress Elizabeth 
 Tylney and mistress Eleyn, wonderfully wept, with 
 her boke in her hand, wheron she praied all the way till 
 she cam to the saide scaffolde, wheron when she was 
 mounted, &c."
 
 60 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 Here the diarist breaks off. The following account 
 of her Last Moments is from the pamphlet entitled 
 " The Ende of the Lady Jane Dudley." 
 
 " First, when she mounted upon the scaffolde, she 
 sayd to the people standing thereabout : ' Good people, 
 I am come hether to die, and by a lawe I am condemned 
 to the same. The facte, in dede, against the quenes 
 highnesse was unlawfull, and the consenting thereunto 
 by me : but touching the procurement and desyre therof 
 by me or on my halfe, I doo wash my handes therof in 
 innocencie, before God, and the face of you, good Chris- 
 tian people, this day,' and therewith she wrong her 
 handes, in which she had hir booke. Then she sayd, 
 * I pray you all, good Christian people, to beare me wit- 
 ness that I dye a true Christian woman, and that I looke 
 to be saved by none other meane but only by the mercy 
 of God in the merites of the blood of his only sonne 
 Jesus Christ : and I confesse, when I dyd know the 
 word of God I neglected the same, loved my selfe and 
 the world, and therefore this plague or punyshment is 
 happely and worthely happened unto me for my sins ; 
 and yet I thank God of his goodnesse that he hath thus 
 geven me a tyme and respet to repent. 
 
 " ' And now, good people, while I am aly ve, I pray you 
 to assyst me with your prayers.' And then, knelyng 
 downe, she turned to Fecknam, saying, ' Shall I say 
 this psalme ? ' And he said * Yea.' Then she said the 
 psalme of Miserere mei Deus in English, in most devout 
 manner, to the end. Then she stode up, and gave her 
 maiden mistris Tilney her gloves and handkercher, and 
 her book to maister Bruges, the ly vetenantes brother ; 
 forthwith she untyed her gown. The hangman went 
 to her to help her of therewith ; then she desyred him
 
 WHERE WAS ANNE BOLEYN BURIED ? 61 
 
 to let her alone, turning towardes her two gentlewomen, 
 who helped her offtherwith, and also with her frose paast 
 and neckercher, geving to her a fayre handkercher to 
 knytte about her eyes. Then the hangman kneeled 
 downe, and asked her forgevenesse, whome she forgave 
 most willingly. Then he willed her to stand upon the 
 strawe : which doing, she sawe the block. Then she 
 sayd, ' I pray you dispatch me quickly.' Then she 
 kneeled down, saying, * Wil you take it of before I lay 
 me downe ? ' and the hangman answered her, ' No, 
 Madame.' She tyed the kercher about her eyes ; then 
 feeling for the blocke, saide, * What shall I do ? "Where 
 is it ? ' One of the standers-by guyding her therunto, 
 she layde her heade down upon the block, and stretched 
 forth her body and said : * Lorde, into thy hands I com- 
 mende my spirite !' And so she ended." 
 
 WHEEE WAS ANNE BOLEYN BUKIED ? 
 
 THERE is a tradition at Salle, in Norfolk, that the 
 remains of Anne Boleyn were removed from the 
 Tower, and interred at midnight, with the rites of 
 Christian burial, in Salle church; and that a plain, 
 black stone without any inscription is supposed to in- 
 dicate the place where she was buried. In Blomefield's 
 Norfolk, no allusion is made to any such tradition, in 
 the accounts of the Boleyn family, and their monu- 
 ments. Lord Herbert of Cherbury, in his History of 
 King Henry VIII. , does not state how or where she 
 was buried. Holinshed, Stow, and Speed say, that 
 her body, with her head, was buried in the choir of the
 
 62 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 chapel in the Tower; and Sandford, that she was 
 buried in the Chapel of St. Peter, in the Tower. 
 Burnet, who is followed by Henry, Hume, and Lin- 
 gard, says that her body was thrown into a common 
 chest of elm-tree that was made to put arrows in, and 
 was buried in the chapel within the Tower, before 
 twelve o'clock. Sharon Turner quotes the following 
 passage from Crispin's account of Anne Boleyn's exe- 
 cution, written fourteen days after her death, viz. : 
 " Her ladies immediately took up her head and the 
 body. They seemed to be without souls, they were so 
 languid and extremely weak ; but fearing that their 
 mistress might be handled unworthily by inhuman men, 
 they forced themselves to do this duty ; and though 
 almost dead, at last carried off her dead body wrapt 
 in a white covering." A letter in the Gentleman's 
 Magazine, October 1815, states: " The headless trunk 
 of the departed Queen was said to be deposited in an 
 arrow-chest, and buried in the Tower Chapel, before 
 the High Altar. Where that stood, the most saga- 
 cious antiquary, after a lapse of less than 300 years, 
 cannot now determine ; nor is the circumstance, though 
 related by eminent writers, clearly ascertained. In a 
 cellar, the body of a person of short stature, without a 
 head, not many years since was found, and supposed 
 to be the reliques of poor Anne ; but soon after re- 
 interred in the same place, and covered up." 
 
 The stone in Salle church was some tune since 
 raised, but no remains were to be found underneath it. 
 Miss Strickland states that a similar tradition is as- 
 signed to a black stone in the church at Thornden-on- 
 the-Hill : but Morant, in his History of Essex, does 
 not notice it.
 
 63 
 
 SIR WALTER RALEIGH WRITING HIS "HISTORY OF 
 THE WORLD." 
 
 RALEIGH was first imprisoned in the Tower in 1592 
 (eight weeks) for winning the heart of Elizabeth 
 Throgmorton, one of Queen Elizabeth's maids of 
 honour, " not only a moral sin, but in those days a 
 heinous political offence." Raleigh's next imprisonment 
 was in 1603: after being first confined in his own 
 house, he was conveyed to the Tower, next sent to 
 Winchester gaol, returned from thence to the Tower, 
 imprisoned for between two and three months in the 
 Fleet, and again removed to the Tower, where he 
 remained until his release, thirteen years afterwards, 
 to undertake his new Expedition to Guiana. Mr. 
 Payne Collier possesses a copy of that rare tract, A 
 Good Speed to Virginia, 4to. 1609, with the autograph 
 on the title-page, " W. Ralegh, Turr. Lond.," showing 
 that at the time this tract was published Raleigh re- 
 corded himself as a prisoner in the Tower of London. 
 During part of the time, Lady Raleigh resided with 
 her husband; and here, in 1605, was born Carew, their 
 second son. After she had been forbidden to lodge 
 with her husband in the Tower, Lady Raleigh lived on 
 Tower Hill. 
 
 At his prison-lodging in the Beauchamp Tower, 
 Sir Walter wrote his political discourses, and com- 
 menced his famous History of the World, which he 
 published in 1614. Raleigh wrote his History avow- 
 edly for his patron, Prince Henry of Wales, the heir- 
 apparent to the throne ; upon whose death Sir Walter 
 is stated to have burnt the continuation of the work, 
 which he had written. Another account in the Journal
 
 64 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 de Paris, 1787, relates that one day, while writing the 
 second volume, Raleigh, being at the window of his 
 apartment, and thinking gravely of the duty of the 
 historian, and the respect due to truth, suddenly his 
 attention was attracted by a great noise and tumult 
 in the court under his eye. He saw a man strike 
 another, whom, from his costume, he supposed to be an 
 officer, and who, drawing his sword, passed it through 
 the body of the person who struck him; but the 
 wounded man did not fall till he had knocked down 
 his adversary with a stick. The guard coming up at 
 this moment, seized the officer, and led him away ; 
 while at the same time the body of the man who was 
 killed by the sword-thrust was borne by some persons, 
 who had great difficulty in penetrating the crowd 
 which surrounded them. 
 
 Next day Raleigh received a visit from an intimate 
 friend, to whom he related the scene which he had wit- 
 nessed the preceding day, when his friend said that 
 there was scarcely a word of truth in any of the cir- 
 cumstances he had narrated : that the supposed officer 
 was no officer at all, but a domestic of a foreign am- 
 bassador ; that it was he who gave the first blow ; that 
 he did not draw his sword, but that the other had 
 seized it and passed it through the body of the domestic 
 before any one had time to prevent him ; that at this 
 moment a spectator among the crowd knocked down 
 the murderer with a stick; and that some strangers 
 bore away the body of the dead I 
 
 " Allow me to tell you," replied Raleigh to his 
 friend, " that I may be mistaken about the station of 
 the murderer ; but all the other circumstances are of 
 the greatest exactitude, because I saw every incident
 
 RALEIGH'S " HISTORY OF THE WORLD." 65 
 
 with my own eyes, and they all happened under my 
 window in that very place opposite us, where you 
 may see one of the flag-stones higher than the rest." 
 " My dear Raleigh," replied his friend, " it was on 
 that very stone that I was sitting when the whole 
 occurred, and I received this little scratch that you see 
 on my cheek in wrenching the sword out of the hands 
 of the murderer ; and, upon my honour, you have 
 deceived yourself on all points." 
 
 Sir Walter, when alone, took the manuscript of the 
 second volume of his History, and, reflecting upon 
 what had passed, said, " How many falsehoods must 
 there be in this work ! If I cannot assure myself of 
 an event which happened under my own eyes, how can 
 I venture to describe those which occurred thousands 
 of years before I was born, or those even which have 
 passed at a distance since my birth ? Truth ! truth ! 
 this is the sacrifice that I owe thee." Upon which he 
 threw his manuscript, the work of years, into the fire, 
 and watched it tranquilly consumed to the last leaf.* 
 
 SIR WALTER RALEIGH ATTEMPTS SUICIDE IN 
 THE TOWER. 
 
 JAMES I. had not long been seated on the throne be- 
 fore two or three plots against him were discovered. 
 Among these was one named the Spanish or Lord 
 Cobham's treason, to which he wickedly declared 
 he had been instigated by Raleigh ; and, although 
 Cobham, shortly afterwards, fully and solemnly re- 
 tracted all that he had said against Sir Walter, he was 
 committed to the Tower on a charge of high treason, 
 
 * Abridged from Curiosities of History, 1857- 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 in July, 1602. While there he made an attempt at 
 suicide by stabbing himself, aiming at the heart, but he 
 only succeeded in inflicting a deep wound in the left 
 breast. We have Cecil's written word for this : it 
 was long disputed. The following letter which Raleigh 
 wrote to his wife before he committed the act, is from 
 a contemporary copy, transcribed from Serjeant Yelver- 
 ton's Collection in All-Souls College, Oxford. 
 
 " Sir Walter Raleigh to his Wife, after he had hurt 
 himself in the Tower. 
 
 lf Receive from thy unfortunate husband these his 
 last lines, these the last words that ever thou wilt re- 
 ceive from him. That I can live to think never to see 
 thee and my child more, I cannot. I have desired God 
 and disputed with my reason, but nature and compas- 
 sion hath the victory. That I can live to think how 
 you are both left a spoil to my enemies, and that my 
 name shall be a dishonour to my child, I cannot, I can- 
 not endure the memory thereof: unfortunate woman, 
 unfortunate child, comfort yourselves, trust God, and 
 be contented with your poor estate. I would have 
 bettered it if I had enjoyed a few years. Thou art a 
 young woman, and forbear not to marry again : it is 
 now nothing to me; thou art no more mine, nor I 
 thine. To witness that thou didst love me once, take 
 care that thou marry not to please sense, but to avoid 
 poverty, and to preserve thy child. That thou didst 
 also love me living, witness it to others ; to my poor 
 daughter, to whom I have given nothing ; for his sake, 
 who will be cruel to himself to preserve thee. Be 
 charitable to her, and teach thy son to love her for his 
 father's sake. For myself, I am left of all men that
 
 RALEIGH ATTEMPTS SUICIDE IN THE TOWER. 67 
 
 have done good to many. All my good terms forgotten, 
 all my errors revived and expounded to all extremity 
 of ill ; all my services, hazards, and expenses for my 
 country, plantings, discoveries, flights, councils, and 
 whatsoever else, malice hath now covered over. I am 
 now made an enemy and traitor by the word of an un- 
 worthy man ; he hath proclaimed me to be a partaker 
 of his vain imaginations, notwithstanding the whole 
 course of my life hath approved the contrary, as my 
 death shall approve it. Woe, woe, woe be unto him 
 by whose falsehood we are lost ! he hath separated us 
 asunder ; he hath slain my honour, my fortune ; he 
 hath robbed thee of thy husband, thy child of his father, 
 and me of you both. Oh, God ! thou dost know my 
 wrongs ; know then, thou my wife and child : know 
 then thou, my Lord and King, that I ever thought 
 them too honest to betray, and too good to conspire 
 against. But my wife, forgive thou all as I do ; live 
 humble, for thou hast but a time also. God forgive 
 my Lord Harry (Cobham), for he was my heavy 
 enemy. And for my Lord Cecil, I thought he never 
 would forsake me in extremity ; I would not have done 
 it him, God knows. But do not thou know it, for 
 he must be master of thy child, and may have com- 
 passion of him. Be not dismayed that I died in 
 despair of God's mercies ; strive not to dispute it, 
 but assure thyself that God hath not left me, and 
 Satan tempted me. Hope and despair live not together. 
 I know it is forbidden to destroy ourselves, but I trust 
 it is forbidden in this sort, that we destroy not our- 
 selves despairing of God's mercy. 
 
 " The mercy of God is immeasurable, the cogitations 
 of men comprehend it not. In the Lord I have ever 
 
 F 2
 
 68 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 trusted, and I know that my Redeemer liveth : far is 
 it from me to be tempted with Satan: I am only 
 tempted with sorrow, whose sharp teeth devour my 
 heart. O God, thou art goodness itself, thou canst not 
 be but good to me ! O God, thou art mercy itself, 
 thou canst not be but merciful to me ! 
 
 " For my state is conveyed to feoffees, to your cousin 
 Brett and others ; I have but a bare estate for a short 
 life. My plate is at gage in Lombard Street; my 
 debts are many. To Peter Vanlore, some 600Z. To 
 Antrobus as much, but Cumpson is to pay 3007. of it. 
 To Michel Hext (Hickes), 1007. To George Carew, 
 1007. To Nicholas Sanders, 1007. To John Fitz- 
 James, 1007. To Mr. Waddom, 1007. To a poor man, 
 one Hawker, for horses, 707. To a poor man, called 
 Hunt, 207. Take first care of these, for God's sake. 
 To a brewer, at Weymouth, and a baker for my Lord 
 Cecill's ship and mine, I think some 807. ; John Renolds 
 knoweth it. And let that poor man have his true part 
 of my return from Virginia ; and let the poor men's 
 wages be paid with the goods, for the Lord's sake. 
 Oh, what will my poor servants think at their return, 
 when they hear I am accused to be Spanish, who sent 
 them, to my great charge, to plant and discover upon 
 his territory ! Oh, intolerable infamy ! Oh, God ! I 
 cannot resist these thoughts ; I cannot live to think 
 how I am derided, to think of the expectation of my 
 enemies, the scorns I shall receive, the cruel words of 
 lawyers, the infamous taunts and despites, to be made 
 a wonder and a spectacle ! Oh death ! hasten thee 
 unto me, that thou mayest destroy the memory of these, 
 and lay me up in dark forgetfulness. Oh, death ! de- 
 stroy my memory, which is my tormenter ; my thoughts
 
 EXECUTION OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 69 
 
 and my life cannot dwell in one body. But do thou 
 forget me, poor wife, that thou mayest live to bring up 
 thy poor child. I recommend unto you my poor brother, 
 A. Gilbert. The lease of Sanding is his, and none of 
 mine ; let him have it, for God's cause ; he knows what 
 is due to me upon it. And be good to Kemis, for he is 
 a perfect honest man, and hath much wrong for my 
 sake. For the rest, I commend me to them, and them 
 to God. And the Lord knows my sorrow to part from 
 thee and my poor child ; but part I must by enemies 
 and injuries, part with shame and triumph of my de- 
 tractors ; and therefore be contented with this work of 
 God, and forget me in all things but thine own honour, 
 and the love of mine. I bless my poor child, and let 
 him know his father was no traitor. Be bold of my 
 innocence, for God, to whom I offer my life and soul, 
 knows it. And whosoever thou choose again after 
 me, let him be but thy politique husband ; but let my 
 son be thy beloved, for he is part of me, and I live in 
 him, and the difference is but in the number, and not 
 in the kind. And the Lord for ever keep thee and 
 them, and give thee comfort in both worlds." 
 
 This document, the genuineness of which is accre- 
 dited, at once determines the much-vexed question, 
 whether or not Sir Walter Raleigh did attempt to stab 
 himself in the Tower. 
 
 THE EXECUTION OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 
 
 RALEIGH was executed on the 29th of October (old 
 style), 1618, in Old Palace Yard, at eight in the morn- 
 ing of Lord Mayor's Day ; " so that the pageants and 
 fine shewes might draw away the people from beholding
 
 70 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 the tragedie of one of the gallantest worthies that ever 
 England bred." Early in the morning his keeper 
 brought a cup of sack to him, and inquired how he was 
 pleased with it ? " As well as he who drank of St. 
 Giles's bowl as he rode to Tyburn," answered the 
 knight, and said, it was good drink, if a man might 
 but tarry by it. " Prithee, never fear, Ceeston," cried 
 he to his old friend Sir Hugh, who was repulsed from 
 the scaffold by the sheriff, " I shall have a place !" A 
 man bald from extreme age pressed forward "to see 
 him," he said, " and pray God for him." Raleigh took 
 a richly-embroidered cap from his own head, and 
 placing it on that of the old man, said, " Take this, 
 good friend, to remember me, for you have more need 
 on it than I." " Farewell, my lords," was his cheerful 
 parting to a courtly group who affectionately took their 
 leave of him, " I have a long journey before me, and 
 I must e'en say good by. Now I am going to God," 
 said that heroic spirit, as he trod the scaffold; and, 
 gently touching the axe, added, " this is a sharp medi- 
 cine, but it will cure all diseases." The very headsman 
 shrank from beheading one so illustrious and brave, 
 until the unquailing soldier addressed him, " What 
 dost thou fear ? Strike, man ! " In another moment 
 the mighty soul had fled from its mangled tenement. 
 
 Cay ley adds : The head, after being shown on either 
 side of the scaffold, was put into a leather bag, over 
 which Sir Walter's gown was thrown, and the whole 
 conveyed away in a mourning-coach by Lady Raleigh. 
 It was preserved by her in a case during the twenty- 
 nine years which she survived her husband, and after- 
 wards with no less piety by their affectionate son 
 Carew, with whom it is supposed to have been buried
 
 POISONING OF SIR THOMAS OVERBURY. 71 
 
 at West Horsley, in Surrey. The body was interred 
 in the chancel near the altar of St. Margaret's, West- 
 minster. 
 
 In the Pepys Collection at Cambridge is a ballad 
 with the following title : " Sir Walter Rauleigh his 
 Lamentation, who was beheaded in the Old Pallace of 
 Westminster the 29th of October 1618. To the tune 
 ofWelladay." 
 
 THE POISONING OF SIR THOMAS OVERBURY. 
 
 ONE of the most monstrous episodes of the corrupt 
 reign of James I. was the terrible means by which Sir 
 Thomas Overbury, who had strenuously exerted his 
 influence to prevent the marriage of the Earl of 
 Somerset with Lady Essex, was, first by the contri- 
 vance of the unprincipled woman whom he had already 
 made his enemy, thrown into the Tower ; and soon after 
 taken off by poison administered to him by her means, 
 and with the privity of her husband. She owed much 
 of the depravity of her disposition to the pernicious les- 
 sons of Mrs. Turner, who lived as a dependent and 
 companion to Lady Essex in the house of the Earl of 
 Suffolk. This abandoned woman afterwards became 
 the wife of a physician, at whose death, owing to their 
 extravagant and riotous living, she was left in very 
 straitened circumstances, and only the more ready to 
 become the agent of wicked purposes. Sir Thomas 
 Overbury " made his brags " that he had won for 
 Somerset the love of his lady by his letters and in- 
 dustry : " to speak plainly," says Bacon, " Overbury 
 had little that was solid for religion or moral virtue, 
 but was wholly possest with ambition and vainglory : he
 
 72 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 was naught and corrupt ; a man of unbounded and 
 impudent spirit." Mrs. Turner, through her poverty, 
 was only too glad to become again the confidante and 
 adviser of Lady Essex, to whom Rochester had be- 
 trayed Overbury, who had enlarged to him on the de- 
 praved character of his proposed wife. Thereupon, the 
 Countess vowed the destruction of Overbury. First, 
 she offered 1000Z. to Sir John Wood to murder the 
 object of her resentment in a duel. Then she concocted 
 with Rochester a scheme by which, by a representation 
 to King James, Overbury, on the ground of having 
 shown contempt for the royal authority, was committed 
 to the Tower, where h6 was detained a close prisoner 
 under the guardianship of a new lieutenant, wholly in 
 the interest of his enemies, who had procured the re- 
 moval of the former lieutenant of the fortress. 
 
 Sir Thomas Overbury was found dead in the Tower, 
 from an infectious disease, as was alleged ; and he was 
 hastily and secretly buried, according to the register of 
 the Chapel in the Tower, Sept. 15, 1613. He was 
 strongly suspected to have been poisoned; but the 
 matter was passed over without investigation, and the 
 crime was not fully discovered until two years after its 
 commission. A new minion now appeared at Court, 
 and the fickle King resolved to get rid of his former 
 favourite. On a warrant from Lord Chief Justice 
 Coke, Somerset and his wife were arrested for having 
 occasioned the death of Sir Thomas Overbury ; and 
 along with them persons of inferior rank who had acted 
 as their accomplices. These were Mrs. Turner ; Elwes, 
 the Lieutenant of the Tower ; Weston, the warder, who 
 had been intrusted with the immediate custody of Over- 
 bury ; and Franklin, the apothecary. It appeared on 
 the trial that Mrs. Turner and the Countess of Somer-
 
 POISONING OF SIR THOMAS OVERBURY. 73 
 
 set had had frequent consultations with Simon Forman, 
 a noted dealer in love-philtres, then in high fashion : 
 he was also a conjuror, and died on the day he had 
 prognosticated, which was before the Overbury pro- 
 ceedings had been instituted. It did not appear that 
 Forman had any active concern in the murder ; but it 
 was proved that Mrs. Turner procured the poison from 
 Franklin, the apothecary, and handing it to the warder, 
 Weston, the latter, under her instructions, and with the 
 complicity of the Lieutenant, administered it. In that 
 rare book, Truth brought to Light by Time, we read 
 that Overbury was poisoned with aquafortis, white 
 arsenic, mercury, powder of diamonds, lapis cortilus, 
 great spiders, and cantharides, whatever was, or was 
 believed to be, most deadly, " to be sure to hit his com- 
 plexion." The poisoning was perpetrated with fiendish 
 perseverance. It appeared in evidence that arsenic 
 was always mixed with his salt. Once he desired pig 
 for dinner, and Mrs. Turner put into it lapis cortilus ; 
 at another time he had two partridges sent him from 
 the Court, and water and onions being the sauce, Mrs. 
 Turner put in cantharides instead of pepper ; so that 
 whatever Overbury took was poisoned. 
 
 The guilt of all the parties was completely estab- 
 lished, and they were executed at Tyburn. Mrs. 
 Turner was hanged on the 15th of November, 1615, 
 and excited immense interest. She was a woman of 
 great beauty, and had much affected the fashion of the 
 day. Her sentence was to be " hang'd at Tiburn in her 
 yellow Tiffiny Ruff and Cuff, she being the first inventor 
 and wearer of that horrid garb." The Ruff and Cuff 
 were got up with yellow starch, and in passing her sen- 
 tence, Lord Chief Justice Coke told her that she had 
 been guilty of the seven deadly sins, and declared that
 
 74 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 as she was the inventor of the yellow-starched ruffs and 
 cuffs, so he hoped that she would be the last by whom 
 they would be worn. He accordingly ordered that she 
 should be hanged in the gear she had made so fashion- 
 able. The execution attracted an immense crowd to 
 Tyburn, and many persons of quality, ladies as well as 
 gentlemen, in their coaches. Mrs. Turner had dressed 
 herself specially for her execution : her face was highly 
 rouged, and she wore a cobweb-lawn ruff, yellow- 
 starched: an account printed next day, states that 
 " her hands were bound with a black silk ribbon, as she 
 desired, and a black veil, which she wore upon her 
 head, being pulled over her face by the executioners ; 
 the cart was driven away, and she left hanging, in 
 whom there was no motion at all perceived." She 
 made a very penitent end. As if to insure the con- 
 demnation of yellow starch, the hangman had his hands 
 and cuffs of yellow, " which," says Sir S. D'Ewes, 
 " made many after that day, of either sex, to forbear the 
 use of that coloured starch, till it at last grew generally 
 to be detested and disused." 
 
 The two principal criminals, the wretched Somerset 
 and his wife, had their better merited punishment com- 
 muted into confiscation of their property, and an 
 imprisonment of some years in the Tower. 
 
 A FAKEWELL FEAST IN THE TOWER. 
 
 BISHOP GARDINER was a prisoner in the Tower, 
 while Sir John Markham was lieutenant of the fortress ; 
 at which period, the long examinations published 
 in the first edition of Foxe's Actes and Monuments,
 
 A FAREWELL SUPPER IN THE TOWER. 75 
 
 disclose a remarkable picture of what occurred when 
 a prisoner of high rank received his discharge. At 
 Midsummer, in 1551, the bishop was daily expecting 
 that this would be his happy lot, and he, therefore, com- 
 manded his servant, John Davy, to write the rewards, 
 duties and gifts due to Master Lieutenant, and the 
 Knight-Marshal, and the King's servants, such as he 
 intended to bestow on his departing. He also caused 
 him to send for a piece of satin, to be divided among 
 the Lady Markham and others, as he should think 
 meet : which satin was bought, and this deponent (John 
 Davy) had the most part thereof in keeping. Also 
 the said bishop, about the same time, made his farewell 
 feast (as they then called it) in the Council-chamber in 
 the Tower, containing two or three dinners, whereat 
 he had the Lieutenant and the Knight-Marshal and 
 their wives, with divers others, as Sir Arthur Darcy 
 and the lady his wife, Sir Martin Bowes, Sir John 
 Godsalve, with divers others, such as it pleased the 
 Lieutenant and Knight-Marshal to bring. 
 
 Sir John Markham the Lieutenant, and Sir Ralph 
 Hopton the Knight-Marshal, when examined on the 
 same occasion, both asserted that the bishop called it 
 his farewell supper ; but when asked whether there was 
 " any custom of any such farewell supper to be made 
 of the prisoners when leaving the Tower?" they an- 
 swered that they could not depose. 
 
 Before the above period, Sir John Gage was Con- 
 stable of the Tower, but, as a Roman Catholic, much 
 distrusted ; wherefore the government of the fortress 
 rested chiefly with the Lieutenant. But it appears 
 that the same distrust extended towards Sir John 
 Markham.
 
 76 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 THE GUNPOWDER PLOT DETECTED. 
 
 THE materials for elucidating the causes, circum- 
 stances, and consequences, of the Powder Plot have 
 been sifted over and over again ; notwithstanding the 
 abundance of documents in the State Paper Office, 
 they are not so complete as they were once known to 
 be ; and " it is remarkable that precisely those papers 
 which contribute the most important evidence against 
 Garnet and the other Jesuits are missing." (Mr. Jar- 
 dine 's Narrative.} The Plot-room, in which the plot 
 was hatched, is shown to this day in Catesby Hall, 
 near Daventry ; the dark lantern which Guido Fawkes 
 carried when apprehended, is shown in the Ashmolean 
 collection at Oxford ; and the famous monitory letter 
 to Lord Mounteagle, is preserved in our Parliament 
 Offices : but the tangled thread of the foul transac- 
 tion remains to be unravelled to show how " seven 
 gentlemen of name and blood," as Fawkes called the 
 conspirators, attempted to proceed to the extremity of 
 "murdering a kingdom in its chief representatives." 
 
 The plot originated in the discontents of the Ro- 
 man Catholics under James I., and ended with the 
 detection, examination and execution of the principal 
 conspirators. The first meeting of five of them 
 Catesby, Wright, Winter, Fawkes and Percy, took 
 place at a house in the fields beyond St. Clement's 
 Lane, where, having severally taken an oath of secrecy 
 and fidelity, the design was discussed and approved ; 
 after which they all adjourned to an upper room 
 in the same house, where they heard mass and re- 
 ceived the sacrament from Father Gerard, a Jesuit 
 missionary, in confirmation of their vow. Next was
 
 THE GUNPOWDER PLOT DETECTED. 77 
 
 purchased a house, with a garden attached to it, next 
 door to the Parliament House, by Percy, a relative of 
 the Duke of Northumberland, under the pretence of 
 using it as his official residence, he being a gentleman 
 pensioner. The keys of this house were confided to 
 Fawkes, who was not known in town, and who was to 
 act as Percy's servant. From the cellar of this house 
 a mine was to be made through the wall of the Parlia- 
 ment House, and a quantity of combustibles was then to 
 be deposited beneath the House of Lords. To facilitate 
 operations, another house was taken at Lambeth, where 
 the necessary timber and combustibles were collected 
 in small quantities, and removed by night to the house 
 at Westminster. A man named Keyes, who had been 
 recently received into the conspiracy, was placed in 
 charge at Lambeth ; and he, with John Wright's 
 brother, Christopher, were enlisted to assist in the con- 
 struction of the mine. 
 
 On the llth December, 1604, the "seven gentle- 
 men " entered the house late at night, having provided 
 themselves with tools, and a quantity of hard-boiled eggs, 
 baked meats, and patties, to avoid exciting suspicion by 
 going abroad frequently for provisions. All day long 
 they worked at the mine, carrying the earth and rub- 
 bish into a little building in the garden, spreading 
 it about, and covering it carefully over with turf. In 
 this manner, these determined men worked away at a 
 wall three yards in thickness, without intermission, until 
 Christmas eve ; Fawkes wore a porter's frock over 
 his clothes, by way of disguise. At the same time 
 they consulted respecting ulterior measures ; planned 
 the seizure of the Duke of York, afterwards Charles I., 
 and of the Princess Elizabeth; they also arranged for the
 
 78 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 general rendezvous in Warwickshire, where, soon after, 
 they enlisted various other confederates. 
 
 Parliament was now unexpectedly prorogued on 
 the 7th February ; the execution of the plot was thus 
 postponed for a year. The conspirators resumed their 
 labours in February, when they had half -pierced 
 through the stone wall by great perseverance and 
 exertion. Father Greenway remarks, that it seemed 
 incredible how men of their quality could undergo such 
 severe toil, and especially how Catesby and Percy, 
 who were unusually tall men, could endure the intense 
 fatigue of working day and night in a stooping posture. 
 Their operations were not carried on without occasional 
 alarms, notwithstanding their precautions. " They were 
 one day surprised by the tolling of a bell, which seemed 
 to proceed from the middle of the wall under the 
 Parliament House. All suspended their labour and 
 listened with alarm and uneasiness to the mysterious 
 sound. Fawkes was sent for from his station above. 
 The tolling still continued, and was distinctly heard by 
 him as well as the others. Much wondering at this 
 prodigy, they sprinkled the wall with holy water, when 
 the sound immediately ceased. Upon this they resumed 
 their labour, and after a short time the tolling com- 
 menced again, and again was silenced by the application 
 of holy water. This process was repeated frequently 
 for several days, till at length the unearthly sound was 
 heard no more." (Jardine.) 
 
 Shortly after this alarm, one morning, while working 
 upon the wall, they heard a rustling noise in a cellar 
 nearly above their heads. At first, they thought they 
 were discovered: but Fawkes, being despatched to 
 reconnoitre, it turned out that the occupier of the cellar
 
 THE GUNPOWDER PLOT DETECTED. 79 
 
 was selling off his coals in order to remove, and that 
 the noise proceeded from this cause. Fawkes carefully 
 surveyed the place, which proved to be a large vault 
 immediately under the House of Lords, and very con- 
 venient for their purpose. The difficulty of carrying 
 the mine through the wall had lately very much in- 
 creased. Besides the danger of discovery from the 
 heavy blows in working the stone foundations, as the 
 work extended towards the river, the water began to 
 flow in upon them, and not only impeded their progress, 
 but showed that the mine would be an improper de- 
 pository for the powder and combustibles. The cellar 
 had now become vacant, and it was hired in Percy's 
 name, under the pretext that he wanted it for the re- 
 ception of his own coals and wood. The mine was 
 abandoned, and about 20 barrels of powder were forth- 
 with carried by night across the river from Lambeth, 
 and placed in the cellar in hampers ; large stones and 
 the iron bars and other tools used by them in mining 
 were thrown into the barrels among the powder, the 
 object of which Fawkes afterwards declared to be " to 
 make the breach the greater," and the whole was 
 covered over with faggots and billets of wood. In order 
 to complete the deception, they also placed a consider- 
 able quantity of lumber and empty bottles in the cellar. 
 The preparations were complete about the beginning 
 of May, 1605. They then carefully closed the vault, 
 having first placed certain marks about the door inside, 
 by which they might, at any time, ascertain if it had 
 been entered in their absence; and, as Parliament 
 was not to meet till the 3rd October, they agreed to 
 separate for some months, lest suspicion might arise 
 from their being seen together in London.
 
 80 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 In the meantime, fresh and wealthy accessions were 
 made to the ranks of the conspirators ; and Sir Everard 
 Digby, Ambrose Rookwood, Francis Tresham, and 
 the Littletons, three Roman Catholic gentlemen of 
 station, were drawn into the plot. To meet any power 
 which might be brought against them after the blow 
 was struck, Catesby had raised a body of horsemen, 
 under the pretence that they were for the service in 
 the Spanish force in Flanders. 
 
 The great day (November 5) at length approached, 
 and the confederates held frequent consultations at a 
 lone house near Enfield Chase, and another alike 
 solitary on the Marches near Erith. Here their plan 
 of operations was completed. A list of all the Peers 
 and Commoners whom it was thought desirable to save 
 was made out, and it was resolved that each of these 
 should on the very morning receive an urgent message 
 to withdraw himself from Westminster. To Guy 
 Fawkes, as a man of tried courage and self-possession, 
 was allotted the perilous office of firing the mine. 
 This he was to perform by means of a slow match 
 which would allow him time to escape to a vessel pro- 
 vided in the river for the purpose of conveying him to 
 Flanders. 
 
 It has been commonly supposed that the plot was 
 discovered through Tresham's misgivings and desire 
 towards his friends : he was especially anxious to warn 
 Lord Mounteagle, who had married Tresham's sister. 
 Catesby hesitated, whereupon Tresham suggested further 
 delay on the ground that he could not, unless time was 
 allowed him, furnish the money he had engaged to 
 provide. This proposal confirmed the suspicions which 
 Catesby entertained of Tresham's fidelity, but he 
 thought it prudent to dissemble.
 
 THE GUNPOWDER PLOT DETECTED. 81 
 
 On Saturday, the 26th of October, ten days before 
 the intended meeting of Parliament, Lord Mounteagle 
 ordered a supper to be prepared, not at his residence 
 in town, but at a house belonging to him at Hoxton. 
 While at table in the evening a letter was delivered to 
 him by one of his pages, who said he received it from 
 a tall man whose features he did not recognise. Mount- 
 eagle opened the letter, and, seeing that it had neither 
 signature nor date, requested a gentleman in his service, 
 named Ward, to read it aloud. This letter is too well 
 known to need reprinting here. On the following day 
 the very gentleman who had read the letter at Mount- 
 eagle's table called on Thomas Winter and related the 
 occurrence of the preceding evening ; adding that his 
 Lordship had laid the mysterious missive before the 
 Secretary of State ; and ending by conjuring him, if 
 he were a party to the plot which the letter hinted at, 
 to fly at once. 
 
 Winter affected to treat the affair as a hoax ; but, as 
 soon as possible, he communicated the intelligence to his 
 colleague. Catesby instantly suspected that Tresham 
 was the writer. Three days later, in consequence of 
 an urgent message, Tresham ventured to meet Catesby 
 and Winter in Enfield Chase. On being taxed with 
 treachery, he repelled the charge, and maintained his 
 innocence with so many oaths, that, although they had 
 resolved to despatch him, they hesitated to take his life 
 on bare suspicion. Fawkes was then sent to examine 
 the cellar. He found all safe. Upon his return they 
 told him of the intelligence they had got, and excused 
 themselves for sending him on so dangerous an errand. 
 Fawkes, with characteristic coolness, declared he should 
 have gone with equal readiness if he had known of the 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 letter ; in proof of which he undertook to revisit the 
 cellar once every day till the 5th of November. 
 
 On the 3rd of November the conspirators were ap- 
 prised by Ward that the letter had been shown to the 
 King. A council was held : some proposed to fly ; 
 others refused to credit the story ; and, finally, they re- 
 solved to await the return of Percy. Percy exerted 
 all his powers to reassure his associates, and, after much 
 discussion, Fawkes agreed to keep guard within the 
 cellar, Percy and Winter to superintend the operations 
 in London, and Catesby and John Wright departed for 
 the general rendezvous at Dunchurch. We now reach 
 the catastrophe. On Monday afternoon, Nov. 4, the 
 Lord Chamberlain, whose province it was to ascertain 
 that the needful preparations were made for the opening 
 of the Session, visited the Parliament House, and, in 
 company with Lord Mounteagle, entered the vault. 
 He asked who occupied the cellar ; and then, fixing his 
 eye on Fawkes, who pretended to be Percy's servant, 
 he observed there was a large quantity of fuel for a 
 private house. He then retired to report his observa- 
 tions to the King, who, upon hearing that the man was 
 " a very tall and desperate fellow," gave orders that the 
 cellar should be carefully searched. Fawkes in the 
 meantime had hurried to acquaint Percy, and then, such 
 was his determination, returned alone to the cellar. 
 
 About two in the morning (it was now the 5th of 
 November) Fawkes opened the door of the vault and 
 came out, booted and dressed as for a long journey. At 
 that instant, before he could stir further, he was seized 
 and pinioned by a party of soldiers, under the direction 
 of Sir Thomas Knevit. Three matches were found in 
 his pocket, and a dark lantern behind the door. He at
 
 THE GUNPOWDER PLOT DETECTED. 83 
 
 once avowed his purpose, and declared that if he had 
 been within when they took him he would have blown 
 all up together. The search then began ; and, on the 
 removal of the fuel, two hogsheads and thirty-two 
 barrels of gunpowder were discovered. 
 
 It was nearly four o'clock before the King and 
 Council had assembled, when Fawkes was carried to 
 Whitehall, and there, in the Royal bedchamber, under- 
 went examination.* Though bound and helpless, he 
 never for an instant quailed. He answered every ques- 
 tion put to him with perfect coolness and decision. His 
 name, he said, was John Johnson, his condition that of a 
 servant to Mr. Percy. He declined to say if he had ac- 
 complices, but declared his object was, when the Parlia- 
 ment met that day, to have destroyed all there assem- 
 bled. Being asked by the King how he could plot the 
 death of his children and so many innocent souls, he 
 answered, " Dangerous diseases require desperate reme- 
 dies." A Scottish nobleman asked him for what end he 
 had collected so much powder. " One of my ends," said 
 he, " was to blow Scotchmen back to their native place." 
 After several hours spent in questioning him he was 
 conveyed to the Tower. His subsequent fate and that 
 of his accomplices need not be detailed here. 
 
 The vault, popularly called " Guy Fawkes's Cellar," 
 was a crypt-like apartment beneath the old House of 
 Lords, the ancient Parliament-chamber at Westminster, 
 believed to have been rebuilt by King Henry II. on 
 the ancient foundations of Edward the Confessor's reign. 
 This building was taken down about the year 1823, 
 when it was ascertained that the vault had been the 
 
 * This scene has been admirably painted by Mr. John Gilbert, and 
 engraved in the Illustrated London News ; and detailed as above. 
 
 o 2
 
 84 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 ancient kitchen of the Old Palace ; and near the south 
 end the original buttery-hatch was discovered, together 
 with an adjoining pantry or cupboard. The house 
 through which the Conspirators obtained access to the 
 vault was in the south-east corner of Old Palace-yard. 
 
 Subsequent to this complete detection of the Plot, 
 it was the custom to search and carefully examine the 
 several vaults and passages under the Houses of Parlia- 
 ment, previous to the Sovereign opening the Session. 
 This precautionary inspection was performed by certain 
 officers of Parliament, headed by the Usher of the 
 Black Rod, who went through the vaults, and examined 
 the various nooks and recesses. The search took place 
 on the morning of the day of the Royal ceremonial. 
 
 In Spelman's time, the Judges went to church in state 
 on this day. Bishop Sanderson, in one of his sermons, 
 says : " God grant that we nor ours ever live to see 
 November the Fifth forgotten, or the solemnity of it 
 silenced." The solemnity long out-lived the Bishop ; 
 but nearly two hundred years later (in 1858), the ser- 
 vices were removed from the Book of Common Prayer. 
 
 It has been commonly supposed that the plot was 
 discovered through Francis Tresham's misgivings and 
 desire to warn his friends. Mr. Jardine has investi- 
 gated the various speculations respecting the author- 
 ship of the letter to Lord Mounteagle, and the curious 
 doubts as to whether this letter was not a device to 
 conceal the prior revelation of the plot by Tresham in 
 a different manner. The circumstances under which 
 the letter was received, Tresham's intimations to the 
 confederates that the plot was known, his anxiety that 
 his friends should fly, his pressing offers of money to 
 Catesby, and it is added by Roman Catholic writers,
 
 THE GUNPOWDER PLOT DETECTED. 85 
 
 though this Mr. Jardine discredits, Tresham's own 
 death in prison, are supposed to point to the conclusion 
 that the plot was disclosed by some machinery of which 
 the Government were unwilling to risk the exposure. 
 
 At all events, the discovery of the meaning of the 
 ambiguous expressions in the letter to Lord Mount- 
 eagle was not due to the discernment of the King ; for 
 Lord Salisbury, in a narrative of the detection of the 
 plot, to be found in the State Paper Office, declares 
 that this interpretation of the letter had occurred to 
 himself and the Lord Chamberlain, and had been com- 
 municated by them to several Lords of the Council be- 
 fore the subject had been mentioned to the King. To 
 the suggestions of the same discerning personages it was 
 also owing that the plot, though discovered, was allowed 
 for a week to run its course, and that no search was 
 undertaken at the cellar till the 4th of November, the 
 day before the meeting of Parliament. Then Guy 
 Pawkes was seized, and the plot, after a flight and 
 feeble insurrection, came to a close. 
 
 John Varley, the painter, well known to have been 
 attached to astrology, used to relate a tradition, that 
 Gunpowder Plot was discovered by Dr. John Dee, 
 with his Magic Mirror ; and he urged the difficulty, if 
 not impossibility, of interpreting Lord Mounteagle's 
 letter without some other clue or information than 
 hitherto gained. Now, in a Common Prayer Book, 
 printed by Baskett, in 1737, is an engraving of the 
 following scene. In the centre is a circular mirror on 
 a stand, in which is the reflection of the Houses of Par- 
 liament by night, and a person entering carrying a dark 
 lantern. Next, on the left side are two men in the 
 costume of James's time, looking into the mirror : one,
 
 86 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 evidently the King ; the other, from his secular habit, 
 not the Doctor (Dee), but probably Sir Kenelm Digby. 
 On the right side, at the top, is the eye of Providence 
 darting a ray on the mirror ; and below are some legs 
 and hoofs, as if evil spirits were flying out of the 
 picture. The plate is inserted before the service for 
 the 5th of November, and would seem to represent the 
 method by which, under Providence (as is evidenced 
 by the eye), the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot was, 
 at that tune, seriously believed to have been effected. 
 The tradition must have been generally and seriously 
 believed, or it never could have found its way into a 
 Prayer Book printed by the King's Printer. (A. A., 
 Notes and Queries, 2nd S. No. 201.) 
 
 It is true that the fame of Dee's Magic Mirror 
 Divination was at its zenith about the time of the 
 Gunpowder Plot, and this may have led to the mirror 
 being adopted as a popular emblem of discovery ; or it 
 may be a piece of artistic design rather than evidence 
 of its actual employment in the discovery. 
 
 TWO TIPPLING KINGS. 
 
 IN 1608, when Christian IV. of Denmark, brother 
 of the Queen of James I., came into England to visit 
 him, both the kings got drunk together, to celebrate 
 the meeting. Sir John Harrington, the wit, has left a 
 most amusing account of this Court revel and carousal. 
 He tells us that " the sports began each day in such 
 manner and such sorte, as well nigh persuaded me of 
 Mahomet's paradise. We had women, and indeed wine 
 too, of such plenty, as would have astonished each 
 beholder. Our feasts were magnificent, and the two 
 royal guests did most lovingly embrace each other at
 
 TWO TIPPLING KINGS. 87 
 
 table. I think the Dane hath strangely wrought on 
 our good English nobles; for those whom I could 
 never get to taste good liquor, now follow the fashion, 
 and wallow in beastly delights. The ladies abandon 
 their sobriety, and are seen to roll about in intoxica- 
 tion. In good sooth, the Parliament did kindly to pro- 
 vide his majestic so seasonably with money, for there 
 have been no lack of good livinge, shews, sights, and 
 banquetings from morn to eve. 
 
 " One day a great feast was held, and after dinner 
 the representation of Solomon, his temple, and the 
 coming of the Queen of Sheba was made, or (as I may 
 better say) was meant to have been made, before their 
 Majesties, by device of the Earl of Salisbury and 
 others. But, alas ! as all earthly things do fail to poor 
 mortals in enjoyment, so did prove our presentment 
 thereof. The lady who did play the Queen's part did 
 carry most precious gifts to both their Majesties ; but 
 forgetting the steppes arising to the canopy, overset 
 her caskets into his Danish Majesty's lap, and fell at 
 his feet, though I think it was rather in his face. 
 Much was the hurry and confusion ; cloths and napkins 
 were at hand to make all clean. His Majestic then 
 got up, and would dance with the Queen of Sheba ; 
 but he fell down and humbled himself before her, and 
 was carried to an inner chamber, and laid on a bed of 
 state, which was not a little defiled with the presents 
 of the Queen, which had been bestowed on his gar- 
 ments ; such as wine, cream, jelly, beverage, cakes, 
 spices, and other good matters. The entertainment 
 and show went forward, and most of the presenters 
 went backward or fell down ; wine did so occupy their 
 upper chambers. Now did appear, in rich dress, Hope, 
 Faith, and Charity. Hope did essay to speak, but
 
 88 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 wine rendered her endeavours so feeble that she with- 
 drew, and hoped the King would excuse her brevity. 
 Faith was then all alone, for I am certain she was not 
 joyned to good works, and left the court in a stagger- 
 ing condition. Charity came to the King's feet, and 
 seemed to cover the multitude of sins her sisters had 
 committed; in some sorte she made obeyance, and 
 brought giftes, but said she would return home again, 
 as there was no gift which heaven had not already 
 given his Majesty. She then returned to Hope and 
 Faith, who were both sick .... in the lower 
 hall. Next came Victory, in bright armour, and pre- 
 sented a rich sword to the King, who did not accept it, 
 but put it by with his hand ; and by a strange medley 
 of versification, did endeavour to make suit to the 
 King. But Victory did not triumph long ; for, after 
 much lamentable utterance, she was led away like a 
 silly captive, and laid to sleep in the outer steps of the 
 ante-chamber. Now did Peace make entry, and strive 
 to get foremoste to the King; but I grieve to tell 
 how great wrath she did discover unto those of her 
 attendants ; and much contrary to her semblance, 
 made rudely war with her olive branch, and laid on 
 the pates of those who did oppose her coming." * 
 
 FUNEEAL OF JAMES I. 
 
 THIS was a most magnificent and costly pageant. In 
 the Calendar of State Papers, edited by Mr. Bruce, 
 and still more, of course, in the documents of which it 
 is the abstract, will be found what a petitioning there 
 
 * Nugce Antiquts, ed. 1804, vol. i., quoted in a note to Peyton's " Cata- 
 strophe of the Stuarts," in the Secret History of the Court of James L, 
 vol. ii.
 
 FUNERAL OF JAMES I. 89 
 
 was on the part of sundry very interested, if not 
 afflicted, personages, to be admitted " poor mourners " 
 in the procession from Denmark (Somerset) House to 
 Westminster. These " poor mourners " got their sable 
 cloaks for their attendance and officious affliction. 
 While these persons obtained cloaks, parishes were 
 supplied with black cloth, and did not like to be over- 
 looked in the distribution. Thus, we meet with the 
 minister and churchwardens of All Hallows, Barking, 
 petitioning the Commissioners of the royal funeral 
 " that some part of the cloth for mourning for the late 
 King, distributed among the poor of the divers parishes 
 in London, may be given to their parish, which is one 
 of the poorest within the walls of the city." 
 
 It is further singular to discover in Mr. Bruce's volume 
 that it was not the poor alone who thought to draw profit 
 from the King's funeral. His Majesty's gunners are 
 there spoken of as praying that " as they had allowance 
 of reds at the coronation of their deceased master, they 
 may now, at his funeral, have allowance of blacks ! " 
 And observe how the report of this artillery petition 
 struck on the tympanum of " Henry Russell, sworn- 
 drummer extraordinary ! " requiring " that he may have 
 black cloth, as the rest of his fellows shall have." After 
 the drummer come "the Keepers of His Majesty's 
 cormorants," who " pray that they may have mourning 
 weeds," not for the birds, but for themselves. They 
 had at least as good right to it as the household of 
 the Duke of Buckingham, who might have put decent 
 black on his own lacqueys at his own cost. But the 
 people had to pay for all. Mr. Bruce registers a letter 
 from John Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton, the 
 contents of which inform us that " the great funeral 
 took place on the 7th of May, 1625, and was the
 
 90 ROMANCE OP LONDON. 
 
 greatest ever known in England. Blacks were given 
 to 9,000 persons. Inigo JTones did his part in fashion- 
 ing the hearse. The King was chief mourner. The 
 Lord Keeper's sermon was two hours," which must 
 have been an intolerable bore, for Williams was no 
 orator, and his sermon was a contrast between the 
 Solomon of old and the Solomon who had just died, 
 not of course to the disparagement of the defunct 
 James ; and finally, we have the sum total of expenses, 
 including fifty pounds fee to Surgeon Walker for 
 embalming the body, set down as " Charge about 
 50,0007. ! " In July, the nation felt the extravagance 
 committed in conveying James to the God's Acre at 
 Westminster, in May. In recording Sir John Coke's 
 report of a message of Charles to the Commons, Mr. 
 Bruce refers to a portion where the House was told 
 that " the ordinary revenue is clogged with debts and 
 exhausted with the late King's funeral and other ex- 
 penses of necessity and honour." Thus ended that 
 smart and fatal attack of ague, from all apprehension 
 of which, the courtiers at Theobald's sought to entice 
 the shaking monarch by singing the old distich : 
 
 Ague in the spring 
 Is physic for a King. 
 
 As for the exhaustion of the treasury, Charles did 
 not think much of it when his own coronation was in 
 question. He did not, however, forget the two hours' 
 funeral sermon on the Solomons, by Williams, and the 
 testy Welshman was accordingly not only forbidden to 
 preach another discourse at the crowning, but compelled 
 to appoint thereto the little man he most intensely 
 hated, Laud. From the Athenceum review of Mr. 
 Bruce's work.
 
 91 
 
 HISTORICAL COINCIDENCES. 
 
 BY a signal providence (says Wheatly), the bloody 
 rebels chose that day for murdering their King, on 
 which the history of Our Saviour's sufferings (Mat. 
 xxvii.) was appointed to be read as a Lesson. The 
 blessed martyr had forgot that it came in the ordinary 
 course ; and, therefore, when Bishop Juxon (who read 
 the morning office immediately before his martyrdom) 
 named this chapter, the good Prince asked him if he 
 had singled it out, as fit for the occasion ; and when he 
 was informed it was the Lesson for the day, could not 
 without a sensible complacency and joy admire how 
 suitably it concurred with his circumstances. 
 
 Macaulay, in his History of England, speaking of the 
 Seven Prelates committed to the Tower by James II., 
 says : " On the evening of Black-Friday, as it was 
 called, on which they were committed, they reached 
 their prison just at the hour of divine service. They 
 instantly hastened to the chapel. It chanced that in 
 the second Lesson are these words : * In all things ap- 
 proving ourselves as the ministers of God, in much 
 patience, in afflictions, in distresses, in stripes, in impri- 
 sonments.' All zealous churchmen were delighted with 
 this coincidence, and remembered how much comfort a 
 similar coincidence had given nearly 40 years before, to 
 Charles I., at the time of his death." 
 
 A strange story of the ill-fated bust of Charles I., 
 carved by Bernini, is thus told : Vandyke having drawn 
 the King in three different faces, a profile, three- 
 quarters, and a full face,- the picture was sent to Rome 
 for Bernini to make a bust from it. He was unaccount-
 
 92 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 ably dilatory in the work ; and upon this being com- 
 plained of, he said that he had set about it several 
 times, but there was something so unfortunate in the 
 features of the face that he was shocked every time that 
 he examined it, and forced to leav.e off the work ; and, 
 if there was any stress to be laid on physiognomy, he 
 was sure the person whom the picture represented was 
 destined to a violent end. The bust was at last finished, 
 and sent to England. As soon as the ship that brought 
 it arrived in the river, the King, who was very impatient 
 to see the bust, ordered it to be carried immediately to 
 Chelsea. It was conveyed thither, and placed upon a 
 table in the garden, whither the King went with a train 
 of nobility to inspect the bust. As they were viewing 
 it, a hawk flew over their heads with a partridge in his 
 claws, which he had wounded to death. Some of the 
 partridge's blood fell upon the neck of the bust, where 
 it remained without being wiped off. This bust was 
 placed over the door of the King's closet at Whitehall, 
 and continued there till the palace was destroyed by fire. 
 (Pamphlet On the Character of Charles I., by Zachary 
 Grey,LL.D.) 
 
 Ho well, in a letter to Sir Edward Spencer, Feb. 20, 
 1647- 8, refers to the proximate execution of Charles I. 
 as follows : " Surely the witch of Endor is no fable ; 
 the burning Joan of Arc, at Rouen, and the Marchio- 
 ness d'Anere, of late years, in Paris, are no fables : the 
 execution of Nostradamus for a kind of witch, some four- 
 score years since, who, among other things, foretold 
 that the senate of London will kill their King"
 
 93 
 
 QUEEN HENRIETTA MARIA DOING PENANCE AT TYBURN. 
 
 IN the Crowle Pennant, in the British Museum, is 
 a German print of considerable rarity, representing 
 Henrietta Maria, Queen of Charles I., doing penance 
 beneath the triangular gallows at Tyburn. At a short 
 distance is the confessor's carriage, drawn by six 
 horses ; the Queen is kneeling in prayer beneath the 
 gibbet ; in the coach is seated " the Luciferian Con- 
 fessour," and a page, bearing a lighted torch, stands to 
 the left of the carriage door. The authenticity of this 
 print has been impeached; but we have a distinct 
 record of the strange scene which the engraver has 
 here illustrated. 
 
 It will be recollected that by the marriage articles 
 of Charles I. and Henrietta Maria, the latter was 
 permitted to have a large establishment of Roman 
 Catholic priests ; from which it was inferred that the 
 marriage was assented to on the part of the Papal 
 Hierarchy, with the secret intention of rendering it 
 the stepping-stone to the re-establishment of the Ro- 
 man Catholic religion in this country. The glaring 
 imprudence with which the Queen's household en- 
 deavoured to effect their purpose, and the very indirect 
 subjugation in which they enthralled their royal mis- 
 tress, however, occasioned their absolute dismissal from 
 the kingdom, by Charles himself, within little more 
 than a twelvemonth after their arrival here. 
 
 Henrietta Maria is described in letters of her time 
 as a beautiful woman, in stature reaching to the King's 
 shoulders : she was " nimble and quiet, black-eyed, 
 brown-haired, and, in a word, a brave lady." Very
 
 94 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 soon after her arrival in England, her enthralment by 
 the priesthood was witnessed by the King : being at 
 dinner, and being carved pheasant and venison by His 
 Majesty, the Queen ate heartily of both, notwith- 
 standing her confessor, who stood by her, had fore- 
 warned her that it was the eve of St. John the Baptist, 
 and was to be fasted. 
 
 Henrietta's clergy were the most superstitious, tur- 
 bulent, and Jesuitical priests that could be found in 
 all France. Among their "insolencies towards the 
 Queene," it is recorded that Her Majesty was once 
 sentenced by her confessor to make a pilgrimage to 
 Tyburn, and there to do homage to the saintship of 
 some recently-arrived Roman Catholics. " No longer 
 agoe than upon St. James, his day last, those hypo- 
 critical dogges made the pore Queene to walk afoot 
 (some sidd barefoot) from her house at St. James's, to 
 the gallowes at Tyborne, thereby to honour the saint 
 of the day, in visiting that holy place, where so many 
 martyrs (forsooth !) had shed their blood in defence of 
 the Catholic cause. Had they not also been made 
 to dable in the dirt in a fowl morning, fro' Somer- 
 sett House to St. James's, her Luciferian Confessour 
 riding allong by her in his coach ! Yea, they made 
 her to go barefoot, to spin, to eat her meat out of 
 tryne (treen or wooden) dishes, to wait at table, and 
 serve her servants, with many other ridiculous and 
 absurd penances. It is hoped, after they are gone, 
 the Queene will, by degrees, finde the sweetness of 
 liberty in being exempt from those beggarly rudiments 
 of Popish penance." (Ellis's Original Letters, First 
 Series, vol. iii. pp. 241-3. Harl MSS. 383.) 
 
 It appears that the French were first turned out
 
 DOING PENANCE AT TYBURN. 95 
 
 of St. James's and sent to Somerset House : a letter 
 states that they were immediately ordered " to depart 
 thence (St. James's) to Somerset House, although 
 the women howled and lamented as if they had been 
 going to execution, but all in vaine, for the Yeomen 
 of the Guard, by that Lord's (Conway) appointment, 
 thrust them and all their country folkes out of the 
 Queen's lodging, and locked the dores after them. It 
 is said, also, the Queen, when she understood the 
 design, grewe very impatient, and brake the glass 
 windows with her fiste : but since, I hear, her rage is 
 appeased, and the King and shee, since they went to- 
 gether to Nonsucne, have been very jocund together." 
 
 Then, we have an amusing account of the pecula- 
 tions committed by these " French freebooters " on the 
 Queen's " apparrell and linen," when they left her little 
 more than one gown to her back. In about a month, 
 the King, probably from some fresh machination of 
 the discarded train, thus issued his commands to the 
 Duke of Buckingham : 
 
 " Steenie, I have received your letter by Die Greame. 
 This is my Answer : I command you to send all the 
 French away to-morrow out of the Towne. If you can, 
 by fair means (but stike not longe in disputing), other- 
 ways force them away, dryving them away lyke so 
 maine wyld beastes untill ye have shipped them, and 
 so the Devill go with them. Lett me heare no answer 
 but of the performance of my command. So I rest, 
 " Your faithful constant, loving friend, 
 
 " CHARLES R. 
 
 "OAKING, the Tth of August, 1626." 
 
 Yet, the crew would not go without an order from 
 the King, which reply being sent post, next morning
 
 96 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 His Majesty dispatched to London the Captain of the 
 Guard, with yeomen and messengers, heralds and trum- 
 peters, first to proclaim the King's pleasure at Somerset 
 House Gate ; which, if not speedily obeyed, the yeomen 
 were to turn all the French out of Somerset House by 
 head and shoulders, and shut the gate after them ; but 
 they went the next tide. 
 
 " OLD PAKE." 
 
 THOMAS PARR, familiarly known as " Old Parr," ac- 
 cording to the inscription upon his tomb in Westminster 
 Abbey, was born in Salop, in 1483, but the day of his 
 birth is not given ; it is added : " He lived in the reign 
 of ten princes, Edward IV., Edward V., Richard III., 
 Henry VII., Henry VIII., Edward VI., Mary, Eliza- 
 beth, James I., and Charles I., aged 152 years; and 
 was buried here Nov. 15, 1635." In 1635, about a 
 month before Parr's death, Taylor, the Water-poet, pub- 
 lished a pamphlet, entitled : " The Olde, Olde, very 
 Olde Man; or, The Age and Long Life of Thomas 
 Parr, the Sonne of John Parr of Winnington, in the 
 Parish of Alderbury, in the County of Shropshire, who 
 was born in the Reign of King Edward IV., and is now 
 living in the Strand, being aged 152 years and odd 
 months. His manner of Life and Conversation in so 
 long a Pilgrimage ; his Marriages, and his bringing up 
 to London about the End of September last, 1635." 
 According to Taylor, in the lifetime of his first wife, 
 Parr having been detected in an amour with " faire 
 Catherine Milton," at the age of 105 : 
 
 'Twas thought meet, 
 
 He should be purg'd, by standing in a sheet; 
 Which aged (he) one hundred and five yeare 
 In Alderbury parish church did weare.
 
 " OLD PARR." 97 
 
 The Earl of Arundel, being in Shropshire visiting 
 his manors, heard of this " olde man," and was pleased 
 to see him ; his lordship ordered a litter and two horses 
 for his easy conveyance, and that a daughter-in-law 
 should attend him; he was likewise accompanied by 
 a kind of Merry- Andrew, known as John the Foole. 
 These were all brought by easy journies to London. 
 At Coventry, as he passed, folks were very curious, 
 coming in such crowds that Parr was well nigh stifled. 
 The Earl had Parr brought to Arundel House, to be 
 shown to Charles I. He was at first lodged at No. 405, 
 Strand, the Queen's Head public-house (rebuilt in the 
 present reign). This information Mr. J. T. Smith re- 
 ceived, in 1814, from a person, then aged 90, to whom 
 the house was pointed out by his grandfather, then 88. 
 
 Parr became domesticated in the Earl of Arundel's 
 house, but his mode of living was changed ; he fed high, 
 drank wine, and died Nov. 14, 1635, at the age of 152 
 years 9 months. His body, by the King's command, 
 was dissected by Harvey, who attributed Parr's death 
 to peripneumony, brought on by the impurity of the 
 London atmosphere, and sudden change in diet. 
 
 Taylor thus describes Parr in the last stage of 
 his existence : 
 
 His limbs their strength have left, 
 His teeth all gone (but one), his sight bereft, 
 His sinews shrunk, his blood most chill and cold, 
 Small solace, imperfections manifold : 
 Yet still his spirits possesse his mortal trunk, 
 Nor are his senses in his ruines shrunk ; 
 But that his hearing's quicke, his stomach good, 
 Hee'll feed well, sleep well, well digest his food. 
 Hee will speak heartily, laugh and be merry ; 
 Drink ale, and now and then a cup of sherry ; 
 Lores company, and understanding talke, 
 And (on both sides held up) will sometimes walke. 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 And, though old age his face with wrinkles fill, 
 Hee hath been handsome, and is comely still ; 
 Well fac'd ; and though his beard not oft corrected, 
 Yet neat it grows, not like a beard neglected. 
 From head to heel, his body hath all over 
 A quick-set, thick-set, natural hairy cover. 
 
 Taylor gives some account of Parr's domestic life : 
 
 A tedious time a batchelour he tarried, 
 Full eightie years of age before he married. 
 With this wife he liv'd years thrice ten and two, 
 An then she died (as all good wives will doe). 
 Shee dead, he ten years did a widower stay, 
 Then once more ventur'd in the wedlock way, 
 And in affection to his first wife, Jane, 
 He tooke another of that name againe. 
 
 Of Parr's issue, the Water-poet writes in plain prose, 
 " He hath had two children by his first wife, a son and 
 a daughter. When he was over a hundred years old, 
 was sworn to him an illegitimate child, for which his in- 
 continence, he did penance by standing in a sheet, in 
 the parish church of Alberbury." Granger tells the 
 story differently. He writes thus: At 120 he mar- 
 ried Catharine Milton, his second wife, by whom he had 
 a child : even after that he was employed in threshing, 
 and other husbandry work. And when about 152 years 
 of age, he was brought to London, by Thomas, Earl of 
 Arundel, and carried to Court. The King, Charles I., 
 said to him, " You have lived longer than other men, 
 what have you done more than other men ?" He replied, 
 " I did penance when I was a hundred years old." 
 
 Taylor's pamphlet, entitled " The Olde, Olde, very 
 Olde Man," was published while the patriarch was 
 residing in London ; and the statements in which work 
 have rarely been controverted. 
 
 We are assured that Parr laboured hard the greater
 
 "OLD PARR." 99 
 
 part of his long life, and that his food was in general 
 very simple and even coarse : 
 
 Good wholesome labour was his exercise, 
 
 Down with the lamb he with the lark would rise, 
 
 The cock his night-clock and till day was done, 
 
 His watch and chief sun-dial was the sun. 
 
 He thought green cheese most wholesome with an onion, 
 
 He ate coarse meslin-bread, drank ' milk or 
 
 Buttermilk,' or for a treat ' cyder or perry.' 
 
 His physic was ' nice treacle ' or ' Mithridate.' 
 
 He entertained no gout, no ache he felt, 
 
 The air was good and temperate where he dwelt, 
 
 While mavisses and sweet-tongued nightingales 
 
 Did chant him roundelays and madrigals. 
 
 Thus, living within bounds of Nature's laws, 
 
 Of his long lasting life may be some cause. 
 
 Of Parr's bodily appearance the poet assures us 
 
 From head to heel the body hath all over 
 A quick-set, thick-set, nat'rall hairy cover. 
 
 Although we have the above evidence of Parr's ex- 
 treme age, it is not documentary ; and the birth dates 
 back to a period before parish registers were instituted 
 by Cromwell. Still, the fact of Henry Jenkins's age 
 is not so well authenticated as Parr's. 
 
 It may not be generally known that his grandson, 
 Robert Parr, born at Kinver, 1633, died 1757, having 
 lived to the age of 124. 
 
 There is a portrait of Parr, stated to be by Rubens : 
 and among the pictures in the Ashmolean Museum at 
 Oxford, we remember to have seen a portrait of Parr 
 two-thirds length, reasonably presumed to have been 
 painted from the life, being in the manner of the period : 
 it has not been engraved. 
 
 In 1814, Old Parr's cottage at Alberbury was 
 standing : it had undergone very little alteration since 
 the period when Parr himself occupied it. 
 
 H2
 
 100 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 GEORG-E AND BLUE BOAR INN. THE INTERCEPTED 
 LETTER. 
 
 THE long-known George and Blue Boar Inn, Hoi- 
 born, which was taken down in 1864, for the site of 
 the Inns of Court Hotel, is associated with a great 
 event in our national history. Here was intercepted 
 the letter of Charles I., by which Ireton discovered it 
 to be the King's intention to destroy him and Cromwell, 
 which discovery brought about Charles's execution. In 
 the Earl of Orrery's Letters we read : " While Cromwell 
 was meditating how he could best f come in ' with 
 Charles, one of his spies of the King's bedchamber 
 informed him that his final doom was decreed, and that 
 what it was might be found out by intercepting a 
 letter sent from the King to the Queen, wherein he 
 declared what he would do. The letter, he said, was 
 sewed up in the skirt of a saddle, and the bearer of it 
 would come with the saddle upon his head that night 
 to the Blue Boar Inn, in Holborn ; for there he was to 
 take horse and go to Dover with it. This messenger 
 knew nothing of the letter in the saddle ; but some 
 persons at Dover did. Cromwell and Ireton, disguised 
 as troopers, taking with them a trusty fellow, went to 
 the Inn in Holborn; and this man watched at the 
 wicket, and the troopers continued drinking beer till 
 about ten o'clock, when the sentinel at the gate gave 
 notice that the man with the saddle was come in. Up 
 they got, and, as the man was leading out his horse 
 saddled, they, with drawn swords, declared they were to 
 search all who went in and out there ; but, as he looked 
 like an honest man, they would only search his saddle. 
 Upon this they ungirt the saddle and carried it into
 
 LORD SANQUHAR'S REVENGE. 101 
 
 the stall where they had been drinking, and left the 
 horseman with the sentinel ; then, ripping up one of 
 the skirts of the saddle, they found the letter, and gave 
 back the saddle to the man, who, not knowing what 
 he had done, went away to Dover. They then opened 
 the letter, in which the King told the Queen that he 
 thought he should close with the Scots. Cromwell 
 and Ireton then took horse and went to Windsor ; and, 
 finding they were not likely to have any tolerable 
 terms with the King, they immediately from that time 
 forward resolved his ruin." The Earl of Orrery's 
 State Letters. 
 
 LORD SANQUHAR'S REVENGE: A STORY OF 
 WHITEFRIARS. 
 
 THE ancient precinct of Whitefriars appears to have 
 been noted as the abode of fencing-masters, professors 
 of languages, music, and other accomplishments. Here, 
 in the reign of James I., Turner, the fencing-master, 
 kept his school, at which Lord Sanquhar, a Scotch noble- 
 man, one day, when playing with Turner at foils, in his 
 excitement to put down a master of the art, was pressed 
 by him so hard, that his Lordship received a thrust 
 which put out one of his eyes. " This mischief," says 
 the narrator, " was much regretted by Turner ; and 
 the Baron, being conscious to himself that he meant his 
 adversary no good, took the accident with as much 
 patience as men that lose one eye by their own default 
 use to do for the preservation of the other." " Some 
 time after," continues this writer, " being in the court 
 of the great Henry of France, and the King (courteous 
 to strangers), entertaining discourse with him, asked
 
 102 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 him { How he lost his eye?' he (cloathing his answer 
 in a better shrowd than a plain fencer's) told him, * It 
 was done with a sword.' The King replies, * Doth 
 the man live ? ' and that question gave an end to the 
 discourse. The Baron, however, bore the feeling of 
 revenge in his breast some years after, till he came into 
 England, when he resolved to take vengeance upon 
 the unfortunate fencing-master. For this purpose he 
 hired two of his countrymen, Gray and Carliel ; but 
 Gray's mind misgave him, and Carliel got another ac- 
 complice named Irweng. These two, about seven 
 o'clock on a fine evening in May, repaired to the 
 Friars, and there saw Turner drinking with a friend 
 at a tavern door : they saluted one another, and Turner 
 and his friend asked Carliel and Irweng to drink, but 
 they turning about cocked a pistol, came back im^ 
 mediately, and Carliel, drawing it from under his 
 coat, discharged it upon Turner, and gave him a mortal 
 wound near the left pap ; so that Turner, after having 
 said these words, ' Lord, have mercy upon me ! I am 
 killed,' immediately fell down. Carliel and Irweng 
 fled : Carliel to the town ; Irweng towards the river, 
 but mistaking his way, and entering into a court where 
 they sold wood, which was no thoroughfare, he was 
 taken. Carliel likewise fled, and so did also the Baron 
 of Sanquhar. The ordinary officers of justice did their 
 utmost, but could not take them ; for, in fact, as ap- 
 peared afterwards, Carliel fled into Scotland, and Gray 
 towards the sea, thinking to go to Sweden, and San- 
 quhar hid himself in England." 
 
 James having made the English jealous by the favour 
 he had shown to the Scotch, thought himself bound to 
 issue a promise of reward for the arrest of Sanquhar
 
 MARTYRDOM OF KING CHARLES I. 103 
 
 and the assassins. It was successful ; and all three 
 were hung Carliel and Irweng in Fleet Street, at the 
 Whitefriars Gate, where the entrance to Bouverie Street 
 now is ; and Sanquhar in front of Westminster Hall. 
 
 Scarcely a trace of old Whitefriars remains; but 
 some buildings named " Hanging Sword Alley" remind 
 one of the schools of defence, and Sanquhar's revenge. 
 
 MAETYKDOM OF KING CHAELES I. 
 
 SUCH is the designation of this anniversary of English 
 history one of the darkest, the deepest, and most 
 impressive of any age or time January 30th, 1649. 
 
 Charles was taken on the first morning of his trial, 
 January 20th, 1649, in a sedan-chair, from Whitehall 
 to Cotton House, where he returned to sleep each day 
 during the progress of the trial in Westminster Hall. 
 After this, the King returned to Whitehall ; but on 
 the night before his execution he slept at St. James's. 
 On January 30th he was " most barbarously murthered 
 at his own door, about two o'clock in the afternoon." 
 (Histor. Guide, 3rd imp. 1688.) Lord Leicester and 
 Dugdale state that Charles was beheaded at Whitehall 
 Gate. The scaffold was erected in front of the Ban- 
 queting-house, in the street now Whitehall. Sir Thomas 
 Herbert states that the King was led out by " a passage 
 broken through the wall," on to the scaffold ; but Ludlow 
 asserts that it was out of a window, according to Vertue, 
 of a small building north of the Banqueting-house, 
 whence the King stepped upon the scaffold. A picture 
 of the sad scene, painted by Weesop, in the manner of 
 Vandyke, shows the platform, extending only in length
 
 104 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 before two of the windows, to the commencement of the 
 third casement. Weesop visited England from Holland 
 in 1641, and quitted England in 1649, saying "he 
 would never reside in a country where they cut off 
 their King's head, and were not ashamed of the 
 action." 
 
 The immediate act of the execution has thus been 
 forcibly described : " Men could discover in the King 
 no indecent haste or flurry of spirits no trembling of 
 limbs no disorder of speech no start of horror. The 
 blow was struck. An universal groan, as it were a 
 supernatural voice, the like never before heard, broke 
 forth from the dense and countless multitude. All 
 near the scaffold pressed forward to gratify their oppo- 
 site feelings by some memorial of his blood the blood 
 of a tyrant or a martyr ! The troops immediately 
 dispersed on all sides the mournful or the agitated 
 people." 
 
 After the execution, the body was embalmed under 
 the orders of Sir Thomas Herbert and Bishop Juxon, 
 and removed to St. James's. Thence the remains 
 were conveyed to Windsor, where they were silently 
 interred, without the burial service, on the 7th of 
 February, in a vault about the middle of the choir of 
 St. George's Chapel. One hundred and sixty-five 
 years after the interment, in 1813, the remains of 
 King Charles were found accidentally, in breaking 
 away part of the vault of Henry VIII. On the leaden 
 coffin being opened, the body appeared covered with 
 cerecloth; the countenance of the King was apparently 
 perfect as when he lived ; the severed head had been 
 carefully adjusted to the shoulders ; the resemblance of 
 the features to the Vandyke portraits was perfect, as 
 well as the oval shape of the head, pointed beard, &c. ;
 
 MARTYRDOM OF KING CHARLES I. 105 
 
 the fissure made by the axe was clearly discovered, 
 and the flesh, though darkened, was tolerably perfect ; 
 the back of the head and the place where it rested in 
 the coffin was stained with what, on being tested, was 
 supposed to be blood. The coffin is merely inscribed 
 "King Charles, 1648;" the whole funeral charges 
 were but 2291. 5s. 
 
 Sir Robert Halford was one of the most staunch 
 Royalists in Leicestershire, and frequently assisted the 
 King with money in his difficulties ; and it is a re- 
 markable circumstance that a descendant of his family, 
 the late Sir Henry Halford, should be the only person, 
 besides the Prince Regent, who viewed the body of 
 the decapitated King, upon its discovery at Windsor. 
 Sir Henry cut off a lock of the King's hair, and made 
 Sir Walter Scott a present of a part, which he had set 
 in virgin gold ; with the word " Remember " surround- 
 ing it in highly-relieved black letters. 
 
 On the morning of the execution, Charles gave to 
 his faithful attendants these interesting memorials : to 
 Sir Thomas Herbert the silver alarm watch, usually 
 placed at the royal bedside ; to Bishop Juxon, a Gold 
 Medal mint-mark, a rose, probably for a 51. or 61. 
 piece, which had been submitted to the King by 
 Rawlins, the engraver, for approval the likeness of 
 the sovereign is very good; also the George (the jewel 
 of the Order of the Garter) worn by Charles but a 
 few moments previous to his decapitation. 
 
 These relics have been preserved, together with the 
 Pocket-handkerchief used by Charles at the time of his 
 execution : it is of fine white cambric, and marked with 
 the crown, and initials " C. R. ; " also, the Shirt and 
 Drawers worn by the King ; and the Holland sheet 
 which was thrown over his remains.
 
 106 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 THE STOEY OF DON PANTALEON SA. 
 
 ON the south side of the Strand, there was built under 
 the auspices of King James I., out of the rubbish 
 of the old stables of Durham House, a " New Ex- 
 change," planned somewhat on the model of the Royal 
 Exchange in the City, with cellars beneath, a walk 
 above; and over that rows of shops, which were princi- 
 pally occupied by sempstresses and milliners, who dealt 
 in small articles of dress, fans, gloves, cosmetics and 
 perfumery. Here, at the sign of the Three Spanish 
 Gipsies, sat Ann Clarges, who sold wash-balls, powder, 
 gloves, &c., and taught girls plain work ; she became 
 sempstress to Colonel Monk, contrived to captivate 
 him, was married to him, it is believed while her first 
 husband was living ; she died Duchess of Albemarle. 
 At the Revolution, in 1688, there sat in the New 
 Exchange another sempstress, whose fortunes were the 
 reverse of the rise of Ann Clarges. This less favoured 
 lady was Frances Jennings, the reduced Duchess of 
 Tyrconnel, wife to Richard Talbot, lord-deputy of 
 Ireland under James II. : she supported herself for a 
 few days (till she was known, and otherwise provided 
 for) by the little trade of this place. To avoid detection 
 she invariably wore a white mask, and a white dress, 
 and was, therefore, known as the White Widow. This 
 anecdote (of questionable veracity) was ingeniously 
 dramatised by Mr. Douglas Jerrold, for Covent Garden 
 Theatre, in 1840, as " The White Milliner." 
 Gay has not forgotten to tell us 
 
 The sempstress speeds to 'Change with red-tipt nose. 
 
 Thither flocked the gay gallants to gossip with the fair 
 etallkeepers, and ogle the company. Pepys was a fre-
 
 THE STORY OF DON PANTALEON SA. 107 
 
 quent visitor here. In the winter of 1653, there came 
 to England an ambassador from the King of Portugal, 
 with a very splendid equipage; and in his retinue his 
 brother, Don Pantaleon Sa, a Knight of Malta, and " a 
 gentleman of a haughty and imperious nature." One day 
 in November, Don Pantaleon was walking with two 
 friends, in the Exchange, when a quarrel arose between 
 them and a young English gentleman, named Gerard, 
 who accused the Portuguese of speaking in French dis- 
 paragingly of England; one of the Portuguese gave 
 Mr. Gerard the lie ; they then began to jostle, swords 
 were drawn, and all three fell upon Gerard, and one of 
 them stabbed him with his dagger in the shoulder. A 
 few unarmed Englishmen interfered, separated the com- 
 batants, and got the Portuguese out of the Exchange, 
 one of them with a cut upon his cheek. 
 
 Next evening Don Pantaleon, to take his revenge, 
 with 50 followers ; two Knights of Malta, led on by 
 a Portuguese Captain in buff; all having generally 
 double arms, swords and pistols, and coats of mail ; two 
 or three coaches brought ammunition, hand-grenades, 
 and bottles, and little barrels of powder and bullets ; 
 and boats were provided ready at the water-side. They 
 had resolved to fall upon every Englishman they 
 should find in or about the Exchange. They entered 
 all with drawn swords ; the people fled for shelter 
 into the shops; there were few Englishmen present, 
 but of these four were severely wounded by the Por- 
 tuguese. A Mr. Greenaway, of Lincoln's Inn, was 
 walking with his sister and a lady whom he was to 
 have married : these he placed for safety in a shop ; he 
 then went to see what was the matter, when the Portu- 
 guese, mistaking Greenaway for Gerard, gave the word,
 
 108 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 and he was killed by a pistol shot through the head. The 
 crowd now grew enraged, and Don Pantaleon and the 
 Portuguese retreated to the house of embassy, caused 
 the gates to be shut, and put all the servants in arms to 
 defend it. Meanwhile, the Horse Guard on duty had 
 apprehended some of the Portuguese ; and Cromwell 
 sent Colonel Whaley in command, who pursued others 
 to the Ambassador's house with his horse, and there 
 demanded that the rest should be given up. The 
 Ambassador insisted upon his privilege, and that by 
 the law of nations his house was a sanctuary for all his 
 countrymen ; but finding the officer resolute, and that 
 he was not strong enough for the encounter, desired 
 time to send to the Lord General Cromwell, which 
 was granted, and he complained of the injury, and 
 desired an audience. Cromwell sent a messenger in 
 reply, to state that a gentleman had been murdered, and 
 several other persons wounded, and that if the criminals 
 were not given up, the soldiers would be withdrawn, 
 and " the people would pull down the house, and exe- 
 cute justice themselves." Under this threat, Don 
 Pantaleon, three Portuguese, and an English boy, the 
 Don's servant, were given up; they were confined in 
 the guard-house for the night, and next day sent 
 prisoners to Newgate, whence in about three weeks 
 the Don made his escape, but was retaken. 
 
 By the intercession of the Portuguese merchants, 
 the trial was delayed till the 6th of July in the following 
 year, when the prisoners were arraigned for the crime 
 of murder. Don Pantaleon, at first, refused to plead, as 
 he held a commission to act as Ambassador, in the 
 event of his brother's death, or absence from England. 
 He was then threatened with the press, when he
 
 THE STOEY OF DON PANTALEON SA. 109 
 
 pleaded not guilty. A jury of English and foreigners 
 brought in a verdict of guilty, and the five prisoners 
 were sentenced to be hanged. Every effort was made 
 to save Don Pantaleon's life; but Cromwell's only 
 reply was : " Blood has been shed, and justice must be 
 satisfied." The only mercy shown was a respite of 
 two days, and a reprieve from the disgraceful death of 
 hanging; the Ambassador having requested that he 
 might be permitted to kill his brother with his own 
 sword, rather than he should be hanged. 
 
 A remarkable coincidence concluded this strange 
 story : while Don Pantaleon lay in Newgate, awaiting 
 his trial, Gerard, with whom the quarrel in the New 
 Exchange had arisen, got entangled in a plot to 
 assassinate Cromwell, was tried and condemned to be 
 hanged, which, as in the Don's case, was changed to 
 beheading. Both suffered on the same day, on Tower 
 Hill. Don Pantaleon, attended by a number of his 
 brother's suite, was conveyed in a mourning-coach with 
 six horses, from Newgate to Tower Hill, to the same 
 scaffold whereon Gerard had just suffered. The Don, 
 after his devotions, gave his confessor his beads and 
 crucifix, laid his head on the block, and it was chopped 
 off at two blows. On the same day, the English boy- 
 servant was hanged at Tyburn. The three Portu- 
 guese were pardoned. Pennant says that Gerard died 
 with intrepid dignity ; Don Pantaleon with all the 
 pusillanimity of an assassin. Cromwell's stern and 
 haughty justice, and perfect retribution exacted on 
 this occasion, have been much extolled ; it tended to 
 render his Government still more respected abroad; 
 and settled a knotty point as to " the inviolability of 
 ambassadors."
 
 110 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 SIB EICHAED WILLIS'S PLOT AGAINST CHARLES II. 
 
 AT Lincoln's Inn, in the south angle of the great 
 court, leading out of Chancery Lane, formerly called 
 the Gate-house Court, but now Old Buildings, and 
 on the left hand of the ground floor of No. 24, Oliver 
 Cromwell's Secretary, Thurloe, had chambers from 
 1645 to 1659. Thither one night came Cromwell for 
 the purpose of discussing secret and important business. 
 They had conversed together for some time, when 
 Cromwell suddenly perceived a clerk asleep at his desk. 
 This happened to be Mr. Morland, afterwards Sir Samuel 
 Morland, the famous mechanician, and not unknown as 
 a statesman. Cromwell, it is affirmed, drew his dag- 
 ger, and would have despatched him on the spot, had 
 not Thurloe, with some difficulty, prevented him. He 
 assured him that his intended victim was certainly 
 sound asleep, since, to his own knowledge, he had been 
 sitting up the two previous nights. But Morland only 
 feigned sleep, and overheard the conversation, which 
 was a plot for throwing the young King Charles II., 
 then resident at Bruges, and the Dukes of York and 
 Gloucester, into the hands of the Protector ; Sir Rich- 
 ard Willis having planned that, on a stated day, they 
 should pass over to a certain port in Sussex, where 
 they would be received on landing by a body of 500 
 men, to be augmented on the following morning by 
 2,000 horse. Had the royal exiles fallen into the 
 snare, it seems that all three would have been shot 
 immediately on reaching the shore ; but Morland dis- 
 closed the designs to the royal party, and thus frus- 
 trated the diabolical scheme. 
 
 The suites of chambers of which we have been speak-
 
 WILLIS'S PLOT AGAINST CHARLES II. Ill 
 
 ing were chiefly erected about the time of King James 
 I. ; and notwithstanding that square-headed doorways 
 have superseded the arches, and sashed windows have 
 taken the places of the original lattices and mullions, 
 the buildings retain much of their original character.* 
 Curious it is to reflect, as we pass through " the 
 great legal thoroughfare " of Chancery Lane, that in 
 Thurloe's chambers, by a slight stratagem, was saved, 
 some two centuries since, the Royal cause of England. 
 Cromwell must often have been in these chambers at 
 Lincoln's Inn ; and here, by the merest accident, was 
 discovered in the reign of William III. a collection of 
 papers concealed in the false ceiling of a garret, in the 
 same house, by a clergyman who had borrowed the 
 rooms during the long vacation, of his friend, Mr. Tom- 
 linson, the owner of them. This clergyman soon after 
 disposed of the papers to Lord Chancellor Somers, who 
 caused them to be bound up in 67 volumes in folio. 
 These form the principal part of the Collections after- 
 wards published by Dr. Birch, known by the name of 
 the Thurloe State Papers. 
 
 The above anecdote is told by Birch, in his Life of 
 Thurloe, but rests upon evidence which has been 
 questioned. There is a tradition, too, that Cromwell 
 had chambers in or near the gate-house, but his name 
 is not in the registers of the Society ; his son Richard 
 was admitted as student in the 23rd year of Charles II. 
 
 * Lincoln's Inn and its Library, by Spilsbury.
 
 112 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 MANSION OF A CITY MERCHANT PKINCE. 
 
 THE fine old mansion or palace of Sir Robert Clay- 
 ton (of the time of Charles II.), on the east side of 
 Old Jewry, was taken down in the year 1863. The 
 street has a host of memories : indeed, for its length, it 
 is one of the most historical thoroughfares in the city 
 of London. Sir Robert Clayton (who has lately been 
 often named as the munificent benefactor to St. 
 Thomas's Hospital) built the above stately mansion in 
 the Old Jewry, for keeping his shrievalty, in the year 
 
 1671. It was nobly placed upon a stone balustraded 
 terrace, in a courtyard, and was of fine red brick, 
 richly ornamented. John Evelyn, who was a guest at 
 a great feast here, describes, in his Diary, Sept. 26, 
 
 1672, the mansion as "built indeede for a greate 
 magistrate at excessive cost. The cedar dining-room 
 is painted with the history of the Gyants' War, 
 incomparably done by Mr. Streeter ; but the figures 
 are too near the eye." Mr. Bray, the editor of the 
 " Diary," added, in 1818, "these paintings have long 
 since been removed to the seat of the Clayton family, 
 at Marden Park, near Godstone, in Surrey;" in the 
 possession of the present Baronet. In 1679-80 
 Charles II. and the Duke of York supped at the man- 
 sion in the Old Jewry, with Sir Robert Clayton, then 
 Lord Mayor. The balconies of the houses in the 
 streets were illuminated with flambeaux ; and the King 
 and the Duke had a passage made for them by the 
 Trained Bands upon the guard from Cheapside. Sir 
 Robert represented the metropolis nearly thirty years 
 in Parliament, and was Father of the City at his 
 decease. His son was created a Baronet in 1731-2.
 
 MANSION OF A CITY MERCHANT PRINCE. 113 
 
 Sir James Thornhill painted the staircase of the Old 
 Jewry mansion with the story of Hercules and Omphale, 
 besides a copy of the Rape of Dejanira, after Guido. 
 
 The house was a magnificent example of a City 
 merchant's residence, and had several tenants before it 
 was occupied by Samuel Sharp, the celebrated surgeon. 
 In 1806 it was opened as the temporary home of the 
 London Institution, with its library of 10,000 volumes. 
 Here, in the rooms he occupied as librarian of the 
 institution, died Professor Porson, on the night of 
 Sunday, Sept. 25, 1808, with a deep groan, exactly as 
 the clock struck twelve. Dr. Adam Clarke has left a 
 most interesting account of his visits to Porson here. 
 The Institution removed from the house in 1810, and it 
 was next occupied as the Museum of the London 
 Missionary Society, and subsequently divided into 
 offices. The Lord Mayor's Court was latterly held 
 here. Although it had been built scarcely two centu- 
 ries, this mansion was a very handsome specimen of 
 the palace of a merchant-prince, with ceilings and 
 walls glowing with gold, and colour, and classic story ; 
 and, with its spacious banqueting-room, carrying us 
 back to the sumptuous civic life of the seventeenth and 
 eighteenth centuries, when our rich citizens lived 
 in splendour upon the sites whereon they had accumu- 
 lated their well-earned wealth. 
 
 TREASURE-SEEKING IN THE TOWER. 
 
 PEPYS, in various entries in his Diary, describes this 
 very strange secret : "October 30, 1662. To my Lord 
 Sandwich, who was in his chamber all alone, and did 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 inform me, that our old acquaintance, Mr. Wade, hath 
 discovered to him 7,000/. hid in the Tower, of which 
 he was to have two for the discovery, my Lord two, 
 and the King the other three, when it was found ; and 
 J;hat the King's warrant to search, runs for me and one 
 Mr. Lee. So we went, and the guard at the Tower- 
 gate making me leave my sword, I was forced to stay 
 so long at the alehouse close by, till my boy run home 
 for my cloak. Then walked to Minchen Lane, and got 
 from Sir H. Bennet, the King's warrant, for the paying 
 of 2,000/. to my Lord, and other two of the discoverers. 
 (This does not agree with the first statement as to 
 sharing the money.) After dinner we broke the matter 
 to the Lord Mayor, who did not, and durst not, appear 
 the least averse to it. So Lee and I and Mr. Wade 
 were joined by Evett, the guide, W. Griffin, and a 
 porter with pickaxes. Coming to the Tower, our guide 
 demands a candle, and down into the cellars he goes. 
 He went into several little cellars and then out of 
 doors to view, but none did answer so well to the 
 marks as one arched vault, where, after much talk, to 
 digging we went, till almost eight o'clock at night, but 
 could find nothing; yet the guides were not discou- 
 raged. Locking the door, we left for the night, and 
 up to the Deputy-Governor, and he do undertake to 
 keep the key, that none shall go down without his 
 privity. November 1st. To the Tower to make one 
 triall more, where we staid several hours, and dug a 
 great deal under the arches, but we missed of all, and so 
 went away the second time like fools. To the Dolphin 
 Tavern. Met Wade and Evett, who do say that they 
 had it from Barkestead's own mouth. He did much 
 to convince me that there is good ground for what he
 
 BLOOD STEALS THE CROWN FROM TOWER. 115 
 
 goes about. November 4th. Mr. Lee and I to the 
 Tower to make our third attempt upon the cellar. A 
 woman, Barkestead's confidante, was privately brought, 
 who do positively say that this is the place where the said 
 money was hid, and where he and she did put up the 
 7,000/. in butter firkins. We, full of hope, did resolve to 
 dig all over the cellar, which, by seven o'clock at night, 
 we performed. At noon we sent for a dinner, dined 
 merrily on the head of a barrel, and to work again. But, 
 at last, having dug the cellar quite through, removing 
 the barrels from one side to the other, we were forced to 
 pay our porters, and give over our expectations, though, 
 I do believe, there must be money hid somewhere." 
 Under December 17th, we read : " This morning come 
 Lee, Wade, and Evett, intending to have gone upon our 
 new design upon the Tower, but, it raining, and the 
 work being to be done in the open garden, we put it off to 
 Friday next." Such is the last we hear of this odd affair. 
 
 COLONEL BLOOD STEALS THE CROWN FEOM THE 
 TOWER. 
 
 SCARCELY had the public amazement subsided at Co- 
 lonel Blood's outrage upon the Duke of Ormond,* when, 
 with the view of repairing his fallen fortunes, he plotted 
 to steal the crown, the sceptre, and the rest of the re- 
 galia from the Tower, and share them between himself 
 and his accomplices. The regalia were, at this time, in 
 the care of an aged man, named Talbot Edwards, who 
 was exhibitor of the jewels, &c., and with whom Blood 
 first made acquaintance, disguised " in a long cloak, 
 cassock, and canonical girdle," with a woman whom he 
 
 *.Seepp. 132-134. 
 X 2
 
 116 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 represented as his wife, who accompanied him to see 
 the crown and jewels. The lady feigned to be taken ill, 
 upon which they were conducted into the exhibitor's 
 lodgings, where Mr. Edwards gave her a cordial, and 
 treated her otherwise with kindness. They thanked 
 him, and parted ; and, in a few days, the pretended 
 parson again called with a present of gloves for Mrs. 
 Edwards, in acknowledgment of her civility. The 
 parties then became intimate, and Blood proposed a 
 match between Edwards's daughter and a supposed 
 nephew of the Colonel, whom he represented as pos- 
 sessed of 200/. or 300Z. a year in land. It was ar- 
 ranged, at Blood's suggestion, that he should bring his 
 nephew, to be introduced to the lady, at seven o'clock 
 on the morning of the 9th of May 1671 ; and he fur- 
 ther asked leave to bring with him two friends to see 
 the regalia, at the above early hour, as they must 
 leave town in the forenoon. 
 
 Strype, the antiquary, who received his account from 
 the younger Edwards, tells us that, " at the appointed 
 time the old man rose ready to receive his guest, and 
 the daughter dressed herself gaily to receive her gal- 
 lant, when, behold, parson Blood, with three men, came 
 to the jewel-house, all armed with rapier blades in 
 their canes, and each with a dagger and a pair of pis- 
 tols. Two of his companions entered with him, and a 
 third stayed at the door, to watch. Blood told Edwards 
 that they would not go upstairs until his wife came, 
 and desired him to show his friends the crown, to pass 
 the time. This was agreed to; but no sooner had 
 they entered the room where the crown was kept, and 
 the door, as usual, been shut,* than ' they threw a cloth 
 
 * In the room in the Martin tower, where the regalia were kept, be- 
 fore the erection of the new Jewel Office, the crown, &c., were shown
 
 BLOOD STEALS THE CROWN FROM TOWER. 117 
 
 over the old man's head, and clapt a gag into his mouth.' 
 Thus secured, they told him, that, ' their resolution was 
 to have the crown, globe, and sceptre ; and if he would 
 quietly submit to it, they would spare his life, other- 
 wise, he was to expect no mercy.' Notwithstanding 
 this threat, Edwards made all the noise he could, to be 
 heard above ; ' they then knocked him down with a 
 wooden mallet, which they had brought with them to 
 beat together and flatten the crown and told him that 
 if yet he would be quiet, they would spare his life, but 
 if not, upon his next attempt to discover them, they 
 would kill him, and they pointed three daggers at his 
 breast,' and the official account states, stabbed him 
 in the belly. Edwards, however, persisted in making 
 a noise, when they struck him on the head, and he 
 became insensible, but, recovering, lay quiet. The 
 three villains now went deliberately to work : one of 
 them, Parrot, put the globe (orb) into his breeches; 
 Blood concealed the crown under his cloak ; and another 
 was proceeding to file the sceptre assunder, in order 
 that it might be put into a bag, ' because too long to 
 carry.' " 
 
 Thus, they would have succeeded, but for the oppor- 
 tune arrival of young Mr. Edwards, from Flanders, 
 accompanied by his brother-in-law, Captain Beckman, 
 who proceeded upstairs to- the apartments occupied by 
 the Edwardses. Blood and his accomplices, thus inter- 
 rupted, instantly decamped with the crown and orb, 
 leaving the sceptre, which they had not time to file. 
 Edwards, now freed from the gag, shouted " Treason ! " 
 
 behind strong iron bars, which, it was stated, were put up in consequence 
 of Blood's robbery; on one occasion, a female spectator passed her 
 hands through the bars, and nearly tore the crown to pieces.
 
 118 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 " Murder ! " and his daughter rushing out into the 
 court, gave the alarm, and cried out that the crown was 
 stolen. Edwards and Captain Beckman pursued the 
 thieves, who reached the drawbridge ; here the warder 
 attempted to stop them, when Blood discharged a pistol 
 at him ; he fell down, and they succeeded in clearing 
 the gates, reached the wharf, and were making for St> 
 Katherine's-gate, where horses were ready for them, 
 when they were overtaken by Captain Beckman. 
 Blood discharged his second pistol at the Captain's 
 head, but he escaped by stooping, and seized Blood, 
 who struggled fiercely ; but on the crown being wrested 
 from him, in a tone of disappointment he exclaimed, 
 " It was a gallant attempt, however unsuccessful, for it 
 was for a crown !" A few of the jewels fell from the 
 crown in the struggle, but they were recovered and 
 replaced. Blood, with Parrot (who had the orb and 
 the most valuable jewel of the sceptre the baleas 
 ruby in his pocket), were secured, and lodged in the 
 White Tower, and three others of the party were sub- 
 sequently captured. Parrot was a dyer in Thames 
 Street. One of the gang was apprehended as he was 
 escaping on horseback. 
 
 Young Edwards now hastened to Sir Gilbert Talbot, 
 master of the jewel-house, and described the transac- 
 tion, which Sir Gilbert instantly communicated to the 
 King, who commanded him to return forthwith to the 
 Tower, and when he had taken the examination of 
 Blood, and the others, to report it to him. Sir Gilbert, 
 accordingly, returned ; but the King, in the meantime, 
 was persuaded by some about him to hear the examina- 
 tion himself ; and the prisoners, in consequence, were 
 immediately sent to Whitehall ; a circumstance which
 
 BLOOD STEALS THE CROWN PROM TOWER. 119 
 
 is thought to have saved them from the gallows. Blood 
 behaved with great effrontery ; being interrogated on 
 his recent outrage on the Duke of Ormond, he acknow- 
 ledged, without hesitation, that he was one of the 
 party ; but on being asked who were his associates, he 
 replied that " he would never betray a friend's life, nor 
 deny a guilt in defence of his own." Lest the conceal- 
 ments of his associates should detract from the romance 
 of his life, he also voluntarily confessed to the King 
 that he, Blood, on one occasion, concealed himself 
 among the reeds above Battersea, in order to shoot his 
 Majesty while bathing in the Thames, over against 
 Chelsea, where he often went to swim ; that he had 
 taken aim for that purpose, but " his heart was checked 
 by an awe of Majesty ;" and he did not only himself 
 relent, but also diverted his associates from the design. 
 This story was, probably, false ; but it had its designed 
 effect on the King, strengthened by Blood's declaration 
 that there were hundreds of his friends disaffected to 
 the King and his ministers ; whereas, by sparing the 
 lives of the few, he might oblige the hearts of many, 
 " who, as they had been seen to do daring mischief, 
 would be as bold, if received into pardon and favour, to 
 perform eminent services for the crown." 
 
 Thus did the audacious and wary villain, partly over- 
 awe and partly captivate the good nature of the King, who 
 not only pardoned Blood, but gave him a grant in land 
 of 5001. a year in Ireland, and even treated him with 
 great consideration, " as the Indians reverence devils, 
 that they may not hurt them." Blood is said also to 
 have frequented the same apartments in Whitehall as 
 the Duke of Ormond, who had some time before barely 
 escaped assassination.
 
 120 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 Charles received a cutting rebuke for his conduct 
 from the Duke of Ormond, who had still the right of 
 prosecuting Blood for the attempt on his life. When 
 the King resolved to take the Colonel into his favour, 
 he sent Lord Arlington to inform the Duke that it was 
 his pleasure that he should not prosecute Blood, for 
 reasons which he was to give him ; Arlington was in- 
 terrupted by Ormond, who said, with formal polite- 
 ness, that " his Majesty's command was the only reason 
 that could be given ; and therefore he might spare the 
 rest." Edwards and his son, who had been the means 
 of saving the regalia, were treated with neglect ; the 
 only rewards they received being grants on the Ex- 
 chequer, of 2007. to the old man, and 1007. to his son ; 
 which they were obliged to sell for half their value, 
 through difficulty in obtaining payment. 
 
 Stry pe adds, " What could have been King Charles's 
 real motive for extending mercy to Blood must for ever 
 be a mystery to the world :" unless it was to employ 
 his audacity "to overawe any man who had not in- 
 tegrity enough to resist the measures of a most pro- 
 fligate Court." 
 
 Colonel Blood, not long after his Tower exploit, was 
 met in good society by Evelyn, who, however, remarked 
 his " villainous, unmerciful look ; a false countenance, 
 but very well spoken, and dangerously insinuating." 
 Evelyn has, however, committed a strange error with 
 respect to Blood ; for he inserts in his Diary, under 
 May 10, 1671 (the very day after the Colonel's Tower 
 exploit), that he, Evelyn, " dined at Mr. Treasurer's 
 in company with M. de Grammont, and several French 
 noblemen, and one Blood, that impudent, bold fellow, 
 who had not long before attempted to steal the imperial
 
 BLOOD STEALS THE CROWN FROM TOWER. 121 
 
 crown itself out of the Tower," &c. Evelyn must be 
 in error. " He could not," remarks Mr. Cunningham, 
 " have dined the next day at Sir Thomas Clifford's." 
 Blood latterly lived in Westminster, traditionally, in 
 a house at the corner of Peter and Tufton Streets. 
 He subsequently libelled his former patron, the 
 Duke of Buckingham, who obtained in the Court of 
 King's Bench a verdict of 10,OOOZ. damages. Blood 
 was thrown into prison, but found bail. But the effect 
 was too much for him, and after fourteen days' sickness 
 he fell into a lethargy, and expired August 24, 1680. 
 
 Blood was quietly interred in New Chapel Yard, 
 Broadway, Westminster, two days after. " But," says 
 Cunningham, "dying and being buried were considered 
 by the common people in the light of a new trick on 
 the part of their old friend the Colonel. So the coroner 
 was sent for, the body taken up, and a jury summoned. 
 There was some difficulty at first in identifying the 
 body. At length the thumb of the left hand, which in 
 Blood's lifetime was known to be twice its proper size, 
 set the matter everlastingly at rest ; the jury separated, 
 and the notorious Colonel was restored to his grave in 
 the New Chapel Yard. 
 
 In the Luttrell collection of Broadsides in the 
 British Museum, is one styled, " An Elegie on Colonel 
 Blood, notorious for stealing the crown," in which we 
 read: 
 
 Thanks, ye kind fates, for your last favour shown, 
 For stealing Blood, who lately stole the crown. 
 
 The conclusion is : 
 
 At last our famous hero, Colonel Blood, 
 Seeing his projects all will do no good, 
 And that success was still to him denied, 
 Fell sick with grief, broke his great heart, and died.
 
 122 THE ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 The Literary Fund Society possess in their house 
 on the Adelphi Terrace, the two daggers employed by 
 Blood and Parrot at the Tower ; they are beautifully 
 chased and inlaid ; the handles are of a dark-red wood, 
 and the sheaths of embossed leather. Blood's dagger 
 (the larger one) is engraved with a griffin-like figure, 
 and is dated 1620 ; Parrot's is engraved plainly on 
 both sides with the fleur-de-lis. 
 
 Both weapons are described as above, and engraved 
 in the Illustrated London Neivs. 
 
 THE STOEY OF NAN CLAEGES, DUCHESS OF ALBEMAELE. 
 
 THE most singular portion of General Monk's pri- 
 vate history is his marriage, the validity of which was 
 contested upon the trial of an action at law between 
 the representatives of Monk and Clarges, when some 
 curious particulars came out respecting the family of 
 the Duchess. 
 
 " It appeared that she was the daughter of John 
 Clarges, a farrier, in the Savoy, and farrier to Colonel 
 Monk, in 1632. She was married in the church of 
 St. Lawrence Pountney, to Thomas Ratford, son of 
 Thomas Ratford, late a farrier, servant to the Prince 
 Charles, and resident in the Mews. She had a daughter 
 who was born in 1634, and died in 1638. Her husband 
 and she ' lived at the Three Spanish Gypsies, in the 
 New Exchange, and sold wash-balls, powder, gloves, 
 and such things, and she taught girls plain work.* 
 About 1647, she, being a sempstress to Colonel Monk, 
 used to carry him linen.' In 1648 her father and 
 mother died. In 1649, she and her husband * fell out 
 * See p. 106, ante.
 
 THE STORY OF NAN CLARGES. 123 
 
 and parted.' But no certificate from any parish re- 
 gister appears, reciting his burial. In 1652, she was 
 married in the Church of St. George, Southwark, to 
 ' General George Monk ; ' and in the following year 
 was delivered of a son, Christopher (afterwards the 
 second and last Duke of Albemarle), who was suckled 
 by Honour Mills, who sold apples, herbs, oysters, &c. 
 One of the plaintiff's witnesses swore, 'that a little before 
 the sickness, Thomas Ratford demanded and received 
 of him the sum of twenty shillings ; that his wife saw 
 Ratford again after the sickness, and a second time 
 after the Duke and Duchess of Albemarle were dead.' 
 A woman swore, 'she saw him on the day his wife 
 (then called Duchess of Albemarle) was put into her 
 coffin, which was after the death of the Duke, her second 
 husband, who died the 3rd of January, 1669-70.' 
 
 A third witness swore, that 'he saw Ratford about July 
 1660.' In opposition to this evidence, it was alleged, 
 that ' all along, during the lives of Duke George and 
 Duke Christopher, this matter was never questioned,' 
 that the latter was universally received as only son of 
 the former, and that 'this matter had been thrice before 
 tried at the bar of the King's Bench, and the defendant 
 had three verdicts.' A witness swore that he owed 
 Ratford five or six pounds, which he had never de- 
 manded. And a man, who had married a cousin to the 
 Duke of Albemarle, had been told by his wife, that 
 Ratford died Jive or six years before the Duke married. 
 Lord Chief Justice Holt told the jury, ' If you 
 are certain that Duke Christopher was born while 
 Thomas Ratford was living, you must find for the 
 plaintiff. If you believe he was born after Ratford 
 was dead, or that nothing appears what became of him
 
 124 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 after Duke George married his wife, you must find for 
 the defendant.' A verdict was given for the defendant, 
 who was only son to Sir Thomas Clarges, knight, 
 brother to the illustrious Duchess." 
 
 It does not appear on which of these accounts the 
 jury found a verdict for the defendant whether be- 
 cause Ratford was dead, or because nothing had been 
 heard of him ; so that the Duchess, after all, might have 
 been no Duchess. However, she carried it with as high 
 a hand as if she had never been anything else, and 
 Monk had been a blacksmith. Pepys gives some 
 spiteful notices of her ; describing her as " ever a 
 plain and homely dowdy," and " a very ill-looked 
 woman," and going still further : 
 
 4th (Nov. 1666). Pepys says that Mr. Cooling 
 tells him, " the Duke of Albemarle is grown a drunken 
 sot, and drinks with nobody but Troutbecke, whom 
 nobody else will keep company with. Of whom he 
 told me this story : that once the Duke of Albemarle 
 in his drink taking notice, as of a wonder, that Nan 
 Hide should ever come to be Duchess of York : e Nay,' 
 says Troutbecke, * ne'er wonder at that, for if you will 
 give me another bottle of wine, I will tell you as great, 
 if not greater, miracle.' And what was that, but that 
 our dirty Besse (meaning his Duchess) should come to 
 be Duchess of Albemarle." 
 
 " 4th (April, 1667). I find the Duke of Albemarle 
 at dinner with sorry company, some of his officers, of 
 the army ; dirty dishes and a nasty wife at table, and 
 bad meat, of which I made but an ill dinner. Colonel 
 Howard asking how the Prince (Rupert) did (in the 
 last fight) ; the Duke of Albemarle answering, * Pretty 
 well ; ' the other replied, ' but not so well as to go to
 
 THE STORY OF NAN CLARGES. 125 
 
 sea again.' * How ! ' says the Duchess, f what should 
 he go for, if he were well, for there are no ships for 
 him to command? And so you have brought your hogs 
 to a fair market,' said she." 
 
 The Duchess of Albemarle is supposed to have had 
 a considerable hand in the Restoration. She was a 
 great loyalist, and Monk was afraid of her ; so that it 
 is likely enough she influenced his gross understanding, 
 when it did not exactly know what to be at. Aubrey 
 says, that her mother was one of the f five women 
 barbers,' thus sung of in a ballad of the time : 
 
 Did you ever hear the like, 
 
 Or ever hear the fame, 
 Of five women barbers, 
 That lived in Drury Lane ? 
 
 After all, her father, John Clarges, must have been a 
 man of substance in his trade. According to Aubrey's 
 Lives (written about 1680), Clarges had his forge 
 upon the site of No. 317, on the north side of the 
 Strand. " The shop is still of that trade," says Aubrey ; 
 " the corner shop, the first turning, on y e right hand, 
 as you come out the Strand into Drury Lane : the 
 house is now built of brick." The house alluded to is 
 believed to be that at the right-hand corner of Drury 
 Court, now a butcher's. An adjoining house, in the 
 court, is now a whitesmith's, with a forge, &c. Upon 
 Monk's being raised to the Dukedom, and her becom- 
 ing Duchess of Albemarle, her father, the farrier, raised 
 a Maypole in the Strand, nearly opposite his forge, to 
 commemorate his daughter's good fortune. She died 
 a few days after the Duke, and is interred by his side 
 in Henry VII.'s Chapel, Westminster Abbey. The 
 Duke was succeeded by his son, Christopher, who
 
 126 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 married Lady Elizabeth Cavendish, granddaughter of 
 the Duke of Newcastle, and died childless. The 
 Duchess' brother, Thomas Clarges, was a physician of 
 note ; was created a baronet in 1674, and was ancestor 
 to the baronets; whence is named Clarges Street, Pic- 
 cadilly. 
 
 SIR EDMUND BERRY GODFREY HIS MYSTERIOUS 
 DEATH. 
 
 ONE of the darkest blots upon our Annals is the so- 
 called Popish Plot in 1678, first broached by the in- 
 famous Titus Gates and Dr. Tongue, and accusing the 
 Roman Catholics of an atrocious conspiracy to assassi- 
 nate the King, massacre all Protestants, and establish a 
 Popish dynasty in the Duke of York. So little attention 
 was at 'first given by Charles and his Council to Oates's 
 discoveries, that nearly six weeks were suffered to elapse 
 before any serious or strict examination was made into 
 the truth or falsehood of the Plot. At length, Gates 
 and his accomplice, Tongue, resolved in some way to 
 make the matter public; and, as a preparatory step, 
 Gates drew up a narrative of particulars, to the truth 
 of which he solemnly deposed before Sir Edmund Berry 
 Godfrey, who was an eminent Justice of the Peace. 
 " This," says Burnet, " seemed to be done in distrust 
 of the Privy Council, as if they might stifle his evidence ; 
 which to prevent he put into safe hands. Upon that 
 Godfrey was chid for his presuming to meddle in so 
 tender a matter," and, as appeared from subsequent 
 events, a plan was immediately laid to murder him; 
 and this, within a few weeks, was but too fatally 
 executed.
 
 MURDER OF SIR EDMUND BERRY GODFREY. 127 
 
 In the meantime, the Council, which had now taken 
 up the business with warmth, ordered various arrests 
 of Jesuits and Papists to be made. Coleman, Secretary 
 to the Duke of York, was first committed to the charge 
 
 * O 
 
 of a messenger; and whilst in his custody, it was 
 generally believed that he had a long private conversa- 
 tion with Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey, who, "it is cer- 
 tain," says Burnet, " grew apprehensive and reserved ; 
 for, meeting me in the street, after some discourse on 
 the present state of affairs, he said, he believed he him- 
 self should be knocked on the head;" and Godfrey's 
 suspicion of his own danger was confirmed by evidence 
 before the House of Commons. Coleman, though 
 criminated by Oates's statements, was a personal friend 
 of Godfrey, and warned by him in consequence of the 
 danger to which he was exposed. 
 
 About a fortnight afterwards, on Saturday, October 
 12, Godfrey was missing from his house in Green's 
 Lane, in the Strand, near Hungerford-market, where 
 he was a wood-merchant, his wood-wharf being at the 
 end of what is now Northumberland Street. Nor could 
 the most sedulous search obtain any other tidings of 
 Godfrey for some days, but that he was seen near St. 
 Clement's Church, in the Strand, on the day above men- 
 tioned ; he left home at 9 in the morning. Shortly after 
 this, he was seen in Marylebone, and at noon of the same 
 day, had an interview on business with one of the church- 
 wardens of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields. From this time 
 Godfrey was never seen again alive ; nor was any mes- 
 sage received by his servants at home. Sunday came, and 
 no tidings of him ; Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and 
 Thursday followed with the like result. At six o'clock, 
 on the evening of the last-mentioned day, the 17th.
 
 128 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 as two men were crossing a field on the south side of 
 Primrose-hill, they observed a sword-belt, stick, and a 
 pair of gloves, lying on the side of the hedge : they paid 
 no attention to them at the time, and walked on to 
 Chalk Farm, then called at the White House, where 
 they mentioned to the master what they had seen, and 
 he accompanied them to the spot where the articles 
 lay ; one of the men, stooping down, looked into the ad- 
 joining ditch, and there saw the body of a man lying on 
 his face. It was Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey : " his 
 sword was thrust through him, but no blood was on 
 his clothes, or about him ; his shoes were clean ; his 
 money was in his pocket, but nothing was about his 
 neck [although when he went from home, he had a 
 large laced band on], and a mark was all round it, an 
 inch broad, which showed he had been strangled. His 
 breast was likewise all over marked with bruises, and 
 his neck was broken : and it was visible he was first 
 strangled, then carried to that place, where his sword 
 was run through his dead body." He was conveyed to the 
 White House, and information sent to the authorities. 
 A jury was impannelled, to inquire into the cause of 
 death ; the evidence of two surgeons showed that God- 
 frey's death must have been occasioned by strangulation, 
 and his body then pierced with the sword, which had 
 been left sticking in the wound. The ditch was dry, 
 and there were no marks of blood in it, and his shoes 
 were perfectly clean, as if, after being assassinated, he 
 had been carried and deposited in the place where he 
 was found. A large sum of money and a diamond ring 
 were found in his pockets, but his pocket-book, in 
 which, as a magistrate, he used to take notes of exami- 
 nations, was missing. Spots of white wax, an article
 
 MURDER OF SIR EDMUND BERRY GODFREY. 129 
 
 'which he never used himself, and which was only em- 
 ployed by persons of distinction, and by priests, were 
 scattered over his clothes ; and from this circumstance 
 persons were led to conclude that the Roman Catholics 
 were the authors of his death. 
 
 This full confirmation of the suspicions of the public 
 that Sir Edmund Berry was murdered had been the 
 general discourse long before any proof appeared was 
 regarded as a direct testimony of the existence of the 
 Popish Plot; warrants were signed for 26 persons who 
 had been implicated by Gates, and who surrendered 
 themselves, and were committed to the Tower. 
 
 Still, many persons were fully persuaded that the 
 Popish Plot had no real existence. The King is sup- 
 posed to have disbelieved it, but never once exercised 
 his prerogative of mercy ; it is said he dared not ; his 
 throne, perhaps his life was at stake ; and in the popular 
 ferment, upon evidence incredible, or rather impossible 
 to be true, innocent men were condemned to death, and 
 executed. "Who can read," says Mr. Fox, " the account 
 of that savage murmur of applause, which broke out 
 upon one of the villains at the bar swearing positively 
 to Stafford's having proposed the murder of the King ? 
 And how is this horror deepened when we reflect, that 
 in that odious cry were probably mingled the voices of 
 men to whose memory every lover of the English con- 
 stitution is bound to pay the tribute of gratitude and 
 respect." 
 
 From White House, the corpse of Godfrey was 
 conveyed home, and embalmed, and after lying in state 
 for two days at Bridewell Hospital, was carried from 
 thence, with great solemnity, to St. Martin's Church, to 
 be interred. The Pall was supported by eight knights, 
 
 VOL. I K
 
 130 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 all Justices of the Peace ; and in the procession were 
 all the City Aldermen, together with 72 clergymen, in 
 full canonicals, who walked in couples before the body, 
 and a great multitude followed after. The clergyman, 
 who preached a sermon on the occasion, was supported 
 on each side by a brother divine. The body was interred 
 in the churchyard; and a tablet to the memory of 
 Sir Edmund Berry was erected in the east cloister of 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 As yet, however, the perpetrators of this murder 
 had not been discovered, though a reward of 5001. and 
 the King's protection had been offered to any person 
 making the disclosure ; but, within a few days after- 
 wards, one William Bedloe, who had once been servant 
 to Lord Bellasis, and afterwards an ensign in the Low 
 Countries, was brought to London from Bristol, where 
 he had been arrested by his own desire, on affirming 
 that he was acquainted with some circumstances relating 
 to Godfrey's death. He stated that he had seen the 
 murdered body in Somerset House, (then the Queen's 
 residence,) and had been offered a large sum of money 
 to assist in removing it. " It was remembered that at 
 that time the Queen was for some days in so close a con- 
 finement that no person was admitted. Prince Rupert 
 came there to wait on her, but was denied access. This 
 raised a strong suspicion of her ; but the King would 
 not suffer that matter to go any further." (Burnct.) 
 Coleman, who was soon afterwards convicted of High 
 Treason, when he lay in Newgate, confessed that he 
 had spoken of the Duke of York's designs to Godfrey ; 
 " upon which the Duke gave orders to kill him." 
 
 Soon after, Miles Prance, a goldsmith, who had 
 sometime wrought in the Queen's Chapel, was taken
 
 MURDER OF SIR EDMUND BERRY GODFREY. 131 
 
 up on suspicion of having been concerned in the death 
 of Godfrey ; and on his subsequent confession and testi- 
 mony, confirmed by Bedloe and others, Green, Hill, 
 and Berry, all in subordinate situations at Somerset 
 House, were convicted of the murder, which they had 
 effected in conjunction with two Irish Jesuits, who had 
 absconded. It appeared that the unfortunate Magis- 
 trate had been inveigled into Somerset House, at the 
 water gate, under the pretence of his assistance being 
 wanted to allay a quarrel ; and that he was immediately 
 strangled with a twisted handkerchief, after which 
 Green, " with all his force, wrung his neck almost 
 round." On the fourth night after, the assassins con- 
 veyed his body to the place where it was afterwards 
 discovered, near Primrose Hill, and there one of the 
 Jesuits ran his sword through the corpse, in the manner 
 it was found. Green, Berry, and Hill, were executed ; 
 each of them affirming his innocence to the very last. 
 
 This horrible event is commemorated in a contem- 
 porary medal of Sir Edmund Berry, representing him, 
 on the obverse, walking with a broken neck and a 
 sword in his body; and on the reverse, St. Denis, 
 bearing his head in his hand, with this inscription: 
 
 Godfrey walks up-hill after he -was dead, 
 Denis walks down-hill carrying his head. 
 
 There is, also, a medal, witli the head of Sir Godfrey 
 being strangled ; and the body being carried on horse- 
 back, with Primrose Hill in the distance : also a large 
 medallion, with the Pope and the Devil ; the strangula- 
 tion by two Jesuits ; Sir Godfrey borne in a sedan ; and 
 the body, with the sword through it. 
 
 K2
 
 132 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 COLONEL BLOOD'S ATTACK UPON THE GKEAT DUKE OF 
 OEMOND, IN ST. JAMES'S STKEET. 
 
 THE adventures of the notorious Colonel Thomas 
 Blood form one of the most curious and entertaining 
 chapters in the strange history of the period in which 
 he lived. This extraordinary man appears to have 
 been of respectable family, and was at one time in the 
 commission of the peace. In 1663, the Act of Settle- 
 ment in Ireland and the consequent proceedings, hav- 
 ing seriously affected his fortunes, he from that time 
 nourished an inveterate animosity to the Duke of 
 Ormond, then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, whom he 
 considered as the originator of the measures from which 
 he suffered. To revenge himself upon the Duke, he 
 entered into a conspiracy with a number of other mal- 
 contents for exciting a general insurrection, and, as a 
 preliminary step, for the surprisal of the Castle of 
 Dublin. The plot was discovered, and some of the 
 conspirators apprehended about twelve hours before 
 the appointed time for its execution. Blood, however, 
 escaped, and lived to make a more desperate attempt 
 upon his old enemy, the great Duke, in the public 
 streets of London. His object in this daring under- 
 taking has been variously interpreted. By some it is 
 conceived to have been the extortion of advantages by 
 the detention of the Duke ; by others he is supposed 
 to have been actuated by a deep feeling of revenge, 
 which he determined to gratify by hanging the Duke 
 at Tyburn ! Whatever his purpose, it is plain, from 
 Carte's account of this incredible outrage, that he was 
 within an ace of accomplishing it : 
 
 " The Prince of Orange came this year (1670) into
 
 BLOOD'S ATTACK ON DUKE OF ORMOND. 133 
 
 England, and being invited, on December 6, to an 
 entertainment in the city of London, his Grace at- 
 tended him thither. As he was returning homewards 
 on a dark night, and going up St. James's Street, at 
 the end of which, facing the Palace, stood Clarendon 
 House, where he then lived, he was attacked by Blood 
 and five of his accomplices. The Duke always used 
 
 to go attended with six footmen These six footmen 
 
 used to walk three on each side of the street, over against 
 the coach ; but, by some contrivance or other, they 
 were all stopped, and out of the way when the Duke 
 was taken out of his coach by Blood and his son, and 
 mounted on horseback behind one of the horsemen in 
 his company. The coachman drove on to Clarendon 
 House and told the porter that the Duke had been 
 seized by two men who had carried him down Pic- 
 cadilly. The porter immediately ran that way, and 
 Mr. James Clarke, chancing to be at that time in the 
 court of the house, followed with all possible haste, 
 having first alarmed the family, and ordered the ser- 
 vants to come after him as fast as they could. Blood, 
 it seems, either to gratify the humour of his patron, 
 who had set him upon this work, or to glut his own 
 revenge by putting his Grace to the same ignominious 
 death which his accomplices in the treasonable design 
 upon Dublin Castle had suffered, had taken a strong 
 fancy into his head to hang the Duke at Tyburn. 
 
 " Nothing could have saved his Grace's life but that 
 extravagant imagination and passion of the villain, 
 who, leaving the Duke, mounted and buckled, to one 
 of his comrades, rode on before, and (as is said) ac- 
 tually tied a rope to the gallows, and then rode back to 
 see what was become of his accomplices, whom he met
 
 134 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 riding off in a great hurry. The horseman to whom 
 the Duke was tied was a person of great strength ; but, 
 being embarrassed by his Grace's struggling, could not 
 advance as fast as he desired. He was, however, got a 
 good way beyond Berkeley (now Devonshire) House, 
 towards Knightsbridge, when the Duke, having got his 
 foot under the man's, unhorsed him, and they both fell 
 down together in the mud, where they were struggling 
 
 when the porter and Mr. Clarke came up The 
 
 King, when he heard of this intended assassination of 
 the Duke of Ormond, expressed a great resentment 
 on that occasion, and issued out a proclamation for the 
 discovery and apprehension of the miscreants concerned 
 in the attempt." 
 
 THE HEEOIC LADY FANSHAWE. 
 
 IN Portugal Row, the south side of Lincoln's Inn 
 Fields, sometime lived, in the reign of Charles II., 
 Sir Richard Fanshawe, an accomplished person, 
 a scholar, and "in whose quaint translation of the 
 Camoens," says Leigh Hunt, "there is occasionally 
 more genuine poetry than in the less unequal version 
 of Mickle." He was recalled from an embassy in 
 Spain for having signed a treaty without authority ; 
 but his wife suspected him to have been sacrificed to 
 make way for Lord Sandwich, as his successor. Lady 
 Fanshawe was a very frank and cordial woman, and 
 wrote an interesting memoir of her husband,who died on 
 the intended day of his return to England, of a violent 
 fever, riot improbably caused by this awkward close of 
 his mission. Lady Fanshawe was also a courageous
 
 THE HEROIC LADY FANSHAWE. ' 135 
 
 woman. During a former voyage with her husband to 
 Spain, the vessel was attacked by a Turkish galley, 
 well manned ; and, she writes, " we believed we 
 should be all carried away slaves, for this man had so 
 laden his ship with goods from Spain, that his guns 
 were useless, though the ship carried sixty guns; he 
 called for brandy, and after he had well drunken, and 
 all his men, which were near two hundred, he called 
 for arms, and cleared the deck as well as he could, re- 
 solving to fight rather than lose his ship, which was 
 worth thirty thousand pounds ; this was sad for us 
 passengers, but my husband bid us be sure to keep in 
 the cabin, and not appear the women which would 
 make the Turks think we were a man-of-war, but 
 if they saw women they would take us for mer- 
 chants and board us. He went upon the deck, and 
 took a gun and bandoliers, and sword, and, with the 
 rest of the ship's company, stood upon deck, expecting 
 the arrival of the Turkish man-of-war. This beast, 
 the captain, had locked me up in the cabin ; I knocked 
 and called long to no purpose, until at length the cabin- 
 boy came and opened the door ; I, all in tears, desired 
 him to be so good as to give me his blue thrum cap he 
 wore, and his tarred coat, which he did, and I gave him 
 half-a-crown, and putting them on, and flinging away 
 my night-clothes, I crept up softly, and stood upon the 
 deck by my husband's side, as free from sickness and 
 fear, as, I confess, from discretion; but it was the 
 effect of that passion which I could never master." 
 However, after some parley, the Turk's man-of-war^ 
 tacked about, and the other continued its course. But, 
 when Sir Richard Fanshawe saw it convenient to 
 retreat, looking upon his wife, he blessed himself, and
 
 136 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 snatched her up in his arms, saying, " Good God, that 
 love can make this change ! " and though he seemingly 
 chid her, he would laugh at it as often as he remem- 
 bered that voyage. 
 
 On Lady Fanshawe's return to England, she took a 
 house in Holborn Row (the north side of Lincoln's Inn 
 Fields), where she must have looked upon the houses 
 opposite with many a pang of grief. She returned in 
 a sea of troubles, which she bore with submission to 
 the Divine will. " I had not," she writes, " God is my 
 witness, above twenty-five doubloons by me at my 
 husband's death, to bring home a family of threescore 
 servants, but was forced to sell one thousand pounds 
 worth of our own plate, and to spend the Queen's present 
 of two thousand doubloons in my journey to England, 
 not owing nor leaving one shilling debt in Spain, I 
 thank God ; nor did my husband leave any debt at home, 
 which every ambassador cannot say. Neither did these 
 circumstances following prevail to mend my condition j 
 much less found I that compassion I expected upon 
 the view of myself, that had lost at once my husband, 
 and fortune in him ; with my son, but twelve months 
 old, in my arms ; four daughters, the eldest but thirteen 
 years of age ; with the body of my dear husband daily 
 in my sight for near six months together, and a dis- 
 tressed family, all to be by me in honour and honesty 
 provided for ; and, to add to my afflictions, neither 
 persons sent to conduct me, nor pass, nor ship, nor 
 money to carry me one thousand miles, but some few 
 letters of compliment from the chief ministers, bidding 
 * God help me ! ' as they do to beggars, and they 
 might have added, 'they had nothing for me,' with 
 great truth. But God did hear, and see, and help
 
 CROMWELL'S SKULL. 137 
 
 me, and brought my soul out of trouble ; and, by his 
 blessed providence, I and you live, move, and have our 
 being, and I humbly pray God, that blessed providence 
 may ever relieve our wants. Amen." 
 
 CKOMWELL'S SKULL. 
 
 THERE is said to be a skull, maintained, by statements 
 of considerable weight, to be the veritable skull of the 
 Protector, carefully kept in the hands of some person 
 in London in great secrecy it is added, from the 
 apprehension that a threat intimated in the reign of 
 George III., that, if made public, it would be seized 
 by the Government, as the only party to which it 
 would properly belong. The execution of such a threat, 
 it need scarcely be added, is not now probable, what- 
 ever may have been former apprehensions. 
 
 The identity of the skull of Cromwell may, however, 
 be much disputed; Mr. "W. A. Wilkinson, of Beck- 
 enham, Kent, is said to possess the skull, with argu- 
 ments on which the genuineness of the relic is proved. 
 
 In the Morning Chronicle, March 18th, 1799, we 
 read : " The Real Embalmed Head of the powerful and 
 renowned Usurper, Oliver Cromwell ; with the Origi- 
 nal Dies for the Medals struck in honour of his Victory 
 at Dunbar, &c., are now exhibited at No. 5, in Mead 
 Court, Old Bond Street (where the Rattlesnake was 
 shown last year) : a genuine Narrative relating to the 
 Acquisition, Concealment, and Preservation of these 
 Articles, to be had at the place of Exhibition." 
 
 The following is found in the Additional MS. in 
 the British Museum, and is dated April 21, 1813 :
 
 138 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 " The head of Oliver Cromwell (and it is believed the 
 genuine one) has been brought forth in the City, and 
 is exhibited as a favour to such curious persons as the 
 proprietor chooses to oblige. An offer was made this 
 morning to bring it to Soho Square, to show it to Sir 
 Joseph Banks, but he desired to be excused from 
 seeing the remains of the old Villanous Republican, 
 the mention of whose very name makes his blood boil 
 with indignation. The same offer was made to Sir 
 Joseph forty years ago, which he then also refused. 
 The history of this head is as follows : Cromwell was 
 buried in Westminster Abbey, with all the state of 
 solemn ceremony belonging to Royalty ; at the Re- 
 storation, however, his body, and those of some of his 
 associates, were dug up, suspended on Tyburn gallows 
 for a whole day, and then buried under them; the 
 head of the Arch Rebel, however, was reserved, and 
 a spike having been driven through it, it was fixed at 
 the top of Westminster Hall, where it remained till 
 the great tempest at the beginning of the 18th century 
 (1703), which blew it down, and it disappeared, hav- 
 ing probably been picked up by some passenger. The 
 head in question has been the property of the family 
 to which it belongs for many years back, and is con- 
 sidered by the proprietor as a relic of great value ; it has 
 several times been transferred by legacy to different 
 branches of the family, and has lately, it is said, been 
 inherited by a young lady. 
 
 "The proofs of its authenticity are as follows: 
 It has evidently been embalmed, and it is not probable 
 that any other head in this island has, after being 
 embalmed, been spiked and stuck up, as that of a 
 traitor. The iron spike that passed through it is worn
 
 A STORY OF MIDDLE TEMPLE GATE. 139 
 
 in the part above the crown of the head almost as thin 
 as a bodkin, by having been subjected to the variations 
 of the weather ; but the part within the skull which is 
 protected by its situation, is not much corroded; the 
 woodwork, part of which remains, is so much worm- 
 eaten, that it cannot be touched without crumbling; 
 the countenance has been compared by Mr. Flaxman, 
 the statuary, with a plaster cast of Oliver's face taken 
 after his death, of which there are several in London, 
 and he declares the features are perfectly similar." 
 
 Mark Noble (whose authority is questionable) tells 
 us that all the three heads, (Cromwell's, Ireton's, and 
 Bradshaw's,) were fixed upon Westminster Hall ; and 
 he adds that Cromwell's and Bradshaw's were still 
 there in 1684, when Sir Thomas Armstrong's head was 
 placed between them. 
 
 A STORY OF MIDDLE TEMPLE GATE. 
 
 THE original gate-house of the Middle Temple (re- 
 built by Wren, as we now see it, in 1684) has a 
 somewhat strange history. 
 
 Collins, in his Peerage, relates that in the reign of 
 Henry VII., when Cardinal Wolsey was only a school- 
 master at Lymington, in Somersetshire, Sir Amias 
 Paulett, for some misdemeanour committed by him, 
 clapped him in the stocks ; which the Cardinal, when 
 he grew into favour with Henry VIII., so far 
 resented, that he sought all manner of ways to give 
 him trouble, and obliged him to dance attendance at 
 London for some years, and by all manner of obsequi- 
 ousness, to curry favour with him. During the time
 
 140 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 of his attendance, being commanded by the Cardinal 
 not to depart London without license, he took up his 
 lodgings at the great gate of the Temple towards 
 Fleet Street. Cavendish states that Sir Amias, while 
 prisoner here, " had re-edified [the gate-house] very 
 sumptuously, garnishing the same on the outside there- 
 of, with Cardinals' hats and arms, and divers other 
 devices, in so glorious a sort, that he thought thereby 
 to have appeased his old unkind displeasure." By 
 others it is said to have been Sir Amias's resent- 
 ment. However, Wolsey was too politic to regard the 
 matter in either of the above lights ; for, in a common- 
 place book of Sir Roger Wilbraham, who was Master 
 of the Bequests in the time of Queen Elizabeth, we 
 read that the Cardinal, passing through Fleet Street in 
 pontificalibus, and spying his own arms, asked who set 
 them up. The answer was, Sir Anthony Pagett. 
 [This must be Sir Amias's act] Wolsey smiled, say- 
 ing, " he is now well reclaimed j for where before he 
 saw him in disgrace, now he honoured him." 
 
 Aubrey states that Wolsey laid a fine upon Sir 
 Amias to build the gate ; and that in 1680, the arms of 
 Paulett were then in glass there. " The Cardinall's 
 armes were as the storie sayes, on the outside in stone, 
 but time has long since defaced that, only you may 
 still discerne the place; it was carv'd in a very moulder- 
 ing stone." (See Choice Notes from Notes and Queries.} 
 
 We may here note an interesting fact, gracefully re- 
 lated by Leigh Hunt, in The Town. " It is curious 
 to observe the links between ancient names and their 
 modern representatives, and the extraordinary contrast 
 sometimes exhibited between the two. The ' Judge,' 
 who by Henry's orders went to turn Wolsey out of his
 
 THE STORY OF NELL GWYNNE. 141 
 
 house, without any other form of law a proceeding 
 which excited even the fallen slave to a remonstrance 
 was named Shelley, and was one of the ancestors of 
 the Poet I the most independent-minded and generous 
 of men." 
 
 THE STOEY OF NELL GWYNNE. 
 
 THE " pretty witty Nell " was born on Feb. 6, 1650, in 
 the Coal Yard, Drury Lane, the last turning on the 
 east side, as you walk towards St. Giles's. The horo- 
 scope of her nativity, the work perhaps of Lilly, is to be 
 seen among Ashmole's papers, in the Museum at Ox- 
 ford. It shows what stars were supposed to be in the 
 ascendant at the time. Her father, it is said, was 
 Captain Thomas Gwynne, of an ancient family in 
 Wales. Other accounts state that her father was a 
 fruiterer in Covent Garden. Her mother, who lived 
 to see her daughter the favourite of the King, was 
 accidentally drowned in a pond near the Neat Houses 
 at Chelsea. Her early calling was to be sent dressed 
 as an orange-girl, to sell fruit and attract attention 
 at the theatres, as we gather from a poem of the time, 
 attributed to Lord Rochester : 
 
 But first the basket her fair arm did suit, 
 Laden with pippins and Hesperian fruit; 
 This first step raised, to the wondering pit she sold 
 The lovely fruit smiling with streaks of gold. 
 
 Nell was now an orange-girl, holding her basket of 
 fruit covered with vine-leaves in the pit of the King's 
 Theatre, and taking her stand with her fellow fruit- 
 women in the front row of the pit, with her back to
 
 142 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 the stage ; and the cry of " Oranges ! will you have 
 any oranges?" 
 
 She was ten years old at the Restoration of Charles 
 II., in 1660. The theatres were reopened; women 
 came on the stage, and the King and Queen, the 
 Dukes of York and Buckingham, the chief courtiers, 
 and the maids of honour, were among the constant 
 frequenters of the public playhouses. The King's 
 Theatre stood in Drury Lane, on the site of the present 
 building: it was first opened April 8, 1663, when 
 Nell was a girl of thirteen. Our earliest introduction 
 to her we owe to Pepys, the diarist, who sat next to 
 her at the King's House, when she was sixteen, and 
 was fascinated with her foot, described as the least of 
 any woman's in England. But she was first lifted from 
 humble life by a young merchant who had taken a 
 fancy to her smart wit, fine shape, and the smallness 
 of her feet ; she remembered him in after life, and to 
 her interest he owed his appointment in the Guards. 
 Nell soon became an actress, noted for her beauty and 
 her merry laugh ; her first part was Lady Wealthy, 
 in the comedy of The English Monsieur, a " mighty 
 pretty play," in which the women did very well ; 
 " but above all, little Nelly." She succeeded so as to 
 represent prominent parts in stock plays : one of her 
 successes was Celia, in the Humorous Lieutenant of 
 Beaumont and Fletcher ; after this performance, at 
 which Pepys was present, he says, Mrs. Knep "brought 
 to us Nelly, a most pretty woman, who acted the 
 great part of Celia to-day very fine, and did it pretty 
 well. I kissed her, and so did my wife, and a mighty 
 pretty soul she is:" he sums up with "specially kiss- 
 ing of Nell." But her greatest part was the " comical "
 
 THE STORY OF NELL GWYNNE. 143 
 
 Florimel, in Dryden's Secret Love, or the Maiden 
 Queen, to Hart's Celadon ; the incidents and allusions 
 carrying a personal application to the mistress and 
 gallant. Nelly was now living in the fashionable part 
 of Drury Lane, the Strand end, near the lodgings of 
 Lacy, the actor, at the top of Maypole Alley, and over 
 against the gate of Craven House ; at the bottom of the 
 alley was the far-famed Strand Maypole, upon the site 
 of which is the church of St. Mary-le-Strand ; the alley 
 is now Drury Court. Pepys describes pretty Nelly 
 standing at her lodgings' door in her smock-sleeves 
 and bodice, looking at " merry milkmaids with garlands 
 upon their pails, dancing with a fiddle before them." 
 
 Nelly next lived with Lord Buckhurst, keeping 
 " merry house " at Epsom : 
 
 AH hearts fall a-leaping wherever she comes, 
 
 And beat night and day like my Lord Craven's drums. 
 
 Nell was soon left by Buckhurst. Hart, her great 
 admirer, hated her ; and she grew very poor, and re- 
 sumed her old parts at Drury Lane. On the 19th 
 October, 1667, the Earl of Orrery's Black Prince was 
 produced at the King's House, Nelly playing Alizia, 
 or Alice Piers, the mistress of Edward III. : the 
 King was present, and was so charmed with her beauty 
 and wit, that it was soon reported that " the King had 
 sent for Nelly ; " and it proved true. She was often 
 at Whitehall, but still attended to her theatrical en- 
 gagements; but Dryden's Conquest of Granada, in 
 which Nelly had a part, was postponed for a season, 
 through her being near giving birth to the future Duke 
 of St. Alban's, and being therefore unable to appear. 
 When the play was produced, with Nelly as Alniahide,
 
 144 ROMANCE OP LONDON. 
 
 in her broad-brimmed hat and waist-belt, Charles be- 
 came more than ever enamoured : 
 
 There Hart's and Kowley's souls she did ensnare, 
 And made a king a rival to a player. 
 
 At the birth of Charles Beauclerk, Nelly was living 
 in apartments in Lincoln's Inn Fields, soon after which 
 she removed to a house at the east end of the north 
 side of Pall Mall ; and next year to a house on the 
 south side, with a garden towards St. James's Park, 
 which was at first conveyed to her by the King on 
 lease, but subsequently free to Nell and her repre- 
 sentatives for ever; the site is now occupied by No. 79. 
 Nelly was now called " Madame Gwin," and the King's 
 amours being freely talked of in Parliament, led to 
 Sir John Coventry being waylaid, and his nose cut to 
 the bone, that he might remember the offence he had 
 given to his sovereign. 
 
 Evelyn records a walk made on the 2nd of March, 
 1671, in which he attended Charles through St. 
 James's Park, where he both saw and heard "a fa- 
 miliar discourse between the King and Mrs. Nelly, 
 as they called an impudent comedian, she looking out 
 of her garden on a terrace at the top of the wall, the 
 King standing on the green walk under it." The 
 garden was attached to her house in Pall Mall ; and 
 the ground on which Nelly stood was a mount or raised 
 terrace, of which a portion may still be seen under the 
 Park-wall of Marlborough House. Of this scene Mr. 
 Ward has painted a picture of surprising truthfulness 
 and beauty.* Among Madame Gwynne's Papers (Bills 
 sent to Nelly for payment), there is a charge for this 
 
 * Engraved as the frontispiece to Mr. Peter Cunningham's piquant 
 Story of Nell Gwynne, from which this paper is, in the main, abridged.
 
 THE STORY OF NELL GWYNNE. 145 
 
 very mount. There is no reason to suspect Nelly 
 unfaithful to the King, or that Charles did not appre- 
 ciate her fidelity : the people rejoiced at their sove- 
 reign's loose life, and Nelly became the idol of the 
 town, and known as " the Protestant Mistress." Her 
 Popish rival, the Duchess of Portsmouth, was very 
 hard upon Nell when she said, " Anybody may know 
 she has been an orange-wench by her swearing." 
 
 Nell Gwynne was delivered, 25th December 1671, of 
 a second child by the King, who was called James in 
 compliment to the Duke of York : the boy thrived, and 
 became, as his brother still continued, a favourite with 
 his father. On December 27, 1676, the King created 
 his eldest son Baron of Headington and Earl of 
 Burford. The mother's house at Windsor was named 
 Burford House, and the King had its staircases painted 
 by Verrio ; and this was the rendezvous of all who 
 wished to stand well at the Castle. 
 
 Nell did not forget her aged mother, who resided 
 at one time with her in Pall Mall ; for in an apothe- 
 cary's bill, accidentally discovered among the Ex- 
 chequer papers, are charges for cordial juleps with 
 pearls for " Master Charles," and a cordial for " old 
 Mrs. Gwynne." Other bills (1674-6) include charges 
 for a French coach, and for a great cipher from the 
 chariot painter ; for a bedstead, with silver ornaments ; 
 for side boxes at the Duke's Theatre, to which she 
 never went alone, but often with as many as four 
 persons, Nell paying for all ; for great looking-glasses ; 
 for cleansing and burnishing the warming-pan; for 
 the hire of sedan-chairs ; for dress, furniture, and 
 table expenses; for white satin petticoats and white 
 and red satin night-gowns; for kilderkins of strong 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 ale, ordinary ale, and " a barrel of eights ; " for alms 
 to poor men and women ; for oats and beans, and 
 " chaney " oranges at threepence each ; " for a fine 
 landskip fan ; " for scarlet satin shoes covered with 
 silver lace, and a pair of satin shoes laced over with 
 gold for " Master Charles." 
 
 The idea of founding a Royal Hospital at Chelsea 
 for aged and disabled soldiers, is said to have origi- 
 nated with Nelly : the first stone was laid by the 
 King, in 1682. Nelly's benevolence and sympathy 
 with the suffering strengthen the evidence of the tra- 
 dition as to the foundation ; and some sixty years ago 
 her portrait served as the sign of a public-house ad- 
 joining the Hospital : the tradition is still rife in 
 Chelsea. Dedications of books, at this period, to 
 " Madame Eleanor Gwynne," though adulatory, be- 
 speak her popularity. In 1680, died her second and 
 youngest son, James ; and in 1684, the boy Earl of 
 Burford was created Duke of St. Alban's, and ap- 
 pointed to the then lucrative offices of Registrar of the 
 High Court of Chancery and Master Falconer of 
 England. The latter office is still enjoyed by the 
 present Duke of St. Alban's. The former office, the 
 Registrarship, was lost to the Duke of St. Alban's 
 through the stern justice of Lord Thurlow ; for the 
 patent having expired during his Chancellorship, 
 his Lordship refused to renew it. The only letter of 
 Nelly's composition known to exist, relates to this 
 period of her life. It is written on a sheet of very thin 
 gilt-edged paper, in a neat Italian hand, not her own, 
 from Burford House, " for Madam Jennings over 
 against the Tub Tavern in Jermyn Street, London." 
 
 Charles II. ended his dissolute life, sensible of his
 
 THE STORY OP NELL GWYNNE. 147 
 
 sins, and seeking forgiveness from his Maker. His 
 dying request, made to his brother and successor, con- 
 cluded with " Let not poor Nelly starve." While her 
 grief was still fresh, the "gold stuff" grew scarcer 
 than ever ; and if not actually arrested for debt in 
 the spring of 1685, she was certainly outlawed for the 
 non-payment of certain bills, for which some of her 
 tradesmen, since the death of the King, had become 
 very clamorous. Her resources were now slender 
 enough. But, the new King had not forgotten the 
 dying request of his only brother, " Let not poor Nelly 
 starve ; " and the secret service expenses of King 
 James show a payment to Richard Graham, Esq., of 
 7297. 2.5. 3d., " to be by him paid over to the several 
 tradesmen, creditors of Mrs. Ellen Gwynne, in satis- 
 faction of their debts for which the said Ellen stood 
 outlawed." In the same year, the King relieved Nelly 
 by two additional payments of 5007. each; and two 
 years after, made a settlement of property upon her, 
 and " after her death, upon the Duke of St. Alban's 
 and his issue male, with the reversion in the Crown." 
 
 Nelly now fell sick. Her friend, Dr. Tenison, 
 Vicar of St. Martin's, in which parish Pall Mall 
 is situated, attended her. She made her will, and 
 signed it E. G. only : she could not sign her name. 
 She died of apoplexy in November 1687, in her 38th 
 year, but the exact day is unknown; she is said to 
 have died piously and penitently. Her father is said 
 to have died in a prison at Oxford ; and she left 20/. 
 yearly for the releasing of poor debtors out of prison, 
 every Christmas-day.* 
 
 * In a Report on the Poultry Compter, in 1811, it is mentioned that 
 L 2
 
 148 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 On the night of the 17th November 1687, Nelly 
 was buried, according to her own request, in the 
 church of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields. The expenses of 
 her funeral, 375/., were advanced from the next quar- 
 ter's allowance of 1,500Z. a year, which King James 
 had settled upon her. Dr. Tenison too complied with 
 her request, and preached her funeral sermon. 
 
 King James continued the mother's pension to her 
 son, and gave him the colonelcy of a regiment of 
 horse : he distinguished himself at the siege of Bel- 
 grade, became in after-life a Knight of the Garter, 
 and died father of eight sons, by his wife, the high- 
 born and wealthy heiress, Lady Diana de Vere, a 
 beauty in the Kneller collection at Hampton Court. 
 The title still exists and has been in our time con- 
 spicuously before the public from the vast wealth of 
 the late Harriet, Duchess of St. Alban's, widow of 
 Coutts, the banker, but originally known, and favour- 
 ably too, upon the comic boards. " Not unlike, in many 
 respects, were Eleanor Gwynne and Harriet Mellor. 
 The fathers of both were in the army, and both never 
 knew what it was to have a father. Both rose by the 
 stage both had wealthy admirers and both were 
 charitable and generous." (Cunningham.} 
 
 There are many portraits of Nell Gwynne, yet very 
 few genuine : the only picture in the Royal collection 
 is a too grave and thoughtful picture at Hampton 
 Court. The Duke of Buccleuch has a miniature head 
 by Cooper, of which it is said the Exchequer papers 
 record the price paid to the painter. The most curious 
 engraved portrait of her is that after Gascar, engraved 
 
 the prisoners received sixty-five penny loaves every eight weeks, the 
 gift of Eleanor Gwynne.
 
 FRANCIS BACON IN GRAY'S INN. 149 
 
 abroad it is thought by Masson in which she wears 
 a laced chemise, lying on a bed of roses, from which her 
 two children, as Cupids, are withdrawing the curtains 
 King Charles II. in the distance : she wears as well 
 the famous Rupert necklace of pearls. The Burney 
 impression of this print, in the British Museum, cost 
 391. 18 s. Among the relics of Nelly are a warming- 
 pan, with the motto, " Fear God, and serve the 
 King; " and a looking-glass, of elegant form, and carved 
 figure frame, said to have belonged to her. 
 
 Douglas Jerrold wrote a well-constructed comedy of 
 Nell Gwynne, or the Prologue, attempting to show 
 " some glimpses of the silver lining of a character, to 
 whose influence over an unprincipled voluptuary we 
 owe a national asylum for veteran soldiers, and whose 
 brightness shines with the most amiable lustre in many 
 actions of her life, and in the last disposal of her 
 worldly effects." 
 
 FKANCIS BACON IN GEAY'S INN. 
 
 BACON'S attachment to gardens and to rural affairs, 
 one almost fancies is shown even in the speech which 
 he made before the nobility, when, first taking his 
 seat in the High Court of Chancery, he hoped " that 
 the brambles that grow about justice might, 1 be 
 rooted out ;" adding that " fresh justice was the sweet- 
 est." At Gorhambury you see the old fish-ponds which 
 were Bacon's favourite haunt; though the summer-house 
 which he built in the orchard (answering to the diaeta 
 or summer-room of the younger Pliny, at his beloved 
 Laurentium) has long disappeared, and the mansion
 
 150 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 itself has shared the same fate. His Essay " Of 
 Gardens," written in 1625, gives us "particulars for 
 the climate of London," where he loved to practise the 
 tasteful art. Gray's Inn gardens were laid out under 
 his direction, as attested in the following entries : 
 
 " In the 40 Eliz., at a pension of the bench, * the 
 summe of 71. 15s. 4rf. laid out for planting elm trees' 
 in these gardens, was allowed to Mr. Bacon (afterwards 
 Lord Verulam and Lord Chancellor). On the 14th 
 November, in the following year, there was an order 
 made for a supply of more young elms ; and it was 
 ordered ' that a new rayle and quickset hedges ' should 
 be set upon the upper long walk, at the discretion of 
 Mr. Bacon and Mr. Wilbraham ; the cost of which, as 
 appeared by Bacon's account, allowed 20th April, 42 
 Eliz., was 60Z. 6s. 8d. Mr. Bacon erected a summer- 
 house on a small mount on the terrace, in which, if we 
 may be allowed the conjecture, it is probable he fre- 
 quently mused upon the subjects of those great works 
 which have rendered his name immortal." 'Pearce's 
 Inns of Court' 
 
 To this day here is a Catalpa tree, raised from one 
 planted by Bacon, slips of which are much coveted. 
 The walks were in high fashion in Charles II.'s time ; 
 we read of Pepys and his wife, after church, walking 
 "to Gray's Inne, to observe fashions of the ladies, 
 because of my wife's making some clothes." 
 
 Bacon is traditionally said to have lived in the large 
 house facing Gray's Inn garden-gates, where Fulke 
 Greville, Lord Brooke, frequently sent him home- 
 brewed beer from his house in Holborn. Basil Mon- 
 tagu, however, fixes Bacon's abode on the site of No. 1 
 Gray's Inn Square, first floor; the house was burnt
 
 LOKD CRAVEN AND THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 151 
 
 February 17th, 1679, with sixty other chambers (His- 
 torian's Guide, 3rd edit. 1688), which demolishes Lord 
 Campbell's speculative statement, that Bacon's chambers 
 " remain in the same state as when he occupied them, 
 and are still visited by those who worship his memory." 
 (Lives of the Lord Chancellors, vol. ii. p. 274.) Mr. 
 Montagu, who died in 1852, possessed a glass and 
 silver-handled fork, with a shifting silver spoon-bowl, 
 which once belonged to Lord Bacon, whose crest, a 
 boar, modelled in gold, surmounts the fork-handle. 
 
 LORD CEAVEN AND THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 WILLIAM Lord Craven, the hero of Creutznach, by 
 his romantic attachment to Elizabeth, the titular Queen 
 of Bohemia, has inseparably associated their names in 
 history. According to the old Yorkshire tradition, 
 Craven's father, Lord Mayor in 1611, was born of such 
 poor parents that they sent him, when a boy, by a 
 common carrier to London, where he became a mercer 
 in Leadenhall Street, and grew rich. His son, the sol- 
 dier of fortune, distinguished himself under Gustavus 
 Adolphus ; and at the storming of Creutznach in 1632, 
 his determined bravery led to the fortress being taken 
 after two hours' conflict, in which all the English 
 officers were wounded. Craven then attached himself 
 to the King and Queen of Bohemia. She was the 
 daughter of James I., and, with the reluctant consent 
 of her parents (particularly of her mother, who used to 
 twit her with the title of Goody Palsgrave), was mar- 
 ried to Frederick, the Elector Palatine, for whom the 
 Protestant interest in Germany erected Bohemia into
 
 152 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 a kingdom, in the vain hope, with the assistance of his 
 father-in-law, of competing with the Catholic Emperor. 
 Frederick lost everything, and his widow became a de- 
 pendent on the bounty of Craven> who had fought in her 
 husband's cause, and helped to bring up her children. 
 It is through her that the family of Brunswick succeeded 
 to the throne of this kingdom, as the next Protestant 
 heirs of James I. James's daughter, being a woman of 
 lively manners, a queen, and a Protestant leader, ex- 
 cited great interest in her time, and received more than 
 the usual portion of flattery from the romantic. Donne 
 wrote an epithalamium on her marriage, beginning 
 " Here lies a she sun, and a he moon there." 
 
 Sir Henry Wottonhad permission to call her his " royal 
 mistress," which he was as proud of as if he had been a 
 knight of old. And when she lost her Bohemian king- 
 dom, it was said that she retained a better one, for that 
 she was still the " Queen of Hearts." Sir Henry wrote 
 upon her his elegant verses beginning 
 
 " You meaner beauties of the night," 
 in which he calls her 
 
 " Th' eclipse and glory of her kind." 
 
 Her courage and presence of mind were so conspicu- 
 ous, and her figure and manners so attractive, though 
 not to be called a consummate beauty, that in her royal 
 husband's time, " half the army were in love with her." 
 
 In 1664, Charles II. conferred upon her heroic ad- 
 mirer the titles of Viscount Craven and Earl Craven ; 
 and on the death of Monk, gave him the Colonelcy of 
 the Coldstream regiment of Foot-guards. His Lord- 
 ship resided in Drury House, which he rebuilt : it was 
 then called Craven House. Earl Craven is said to
 
 LORD CRAVEN AND THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 153 
 
 have been privately married to the widowed Queen of 
 Bohemia (he was her junior by twelye years) ; " and 
 thus," remarks Dr. Whitaker, " the son of a Wharfdale 
 peasant matched with a sister of Charles I." 
 
 In Craven House, the romantic Queen would ap- 
 pear from some accounts to have resided ; but the truth 
 is, she lived in the adjoining house, probably built for 
 her by Lord Craven, and called, for many years after- 
 wards, Bohemia House, and finally converted into a 
 public-house, which bore her head for its sign. There 
 is said to have been a subterranean communication 
 between the two houses, the sites of which, and 
 grounds, are now occupied by Craven Buildings and 
 the Olympic Theatre. 
 
 The Queen quitted Bohemia House for Leicester 
 House, 'afterwards Norfolk House, in the Strand,' where 
 she died in February 1661-2. Whether Lord Craven 
 attended her at this period does not appear; but she 
 left him her books, pictures, and papers. Sometimes 
 he accompanied her to the play : he built the fine house 
 of Hampstead Marshall, on the banks of the river 
 Kennet, in Berkshire, as a sort of asylum for his in- 
 jured Princess : it cost, although not finished, 60,000/., 
 and was destroyed by fire in 1718. 
 
 Lord Craven long resided in Craven House ; he was 
 famed for his bustling activity : whenever there was a 
 fire in London, Lord Craven was sure to be seen riding 
 about to give orders to the soldiers, who were at such 
 disasters called out to preserve order ; and his horse is 
 said to have "smelt a fire as soon as it happened." 
 Pepys describes Craven as riding up and down, " like a 
 madman," giving orders to the soldiery ; and Lord Dorset 
 sings of "Lord Craven's drums" beating day and night.
 
 154 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 When there was a talk in his old age of giving his 
 regiment to somebody else, Craven said, that " if they 
 took away his regiment they had as good take away his 
 life, since he had nothing else to divert himself with." 
 The next king, however, William III., gave it to 
 General Talmash ; yet the old lord is said to have gone 
 on, busy to the last. He died in 1697, aged nearly 89 
 years. He was intimate with Evelyn, Ray, and other 
 naturalists, and delighted in gardening. " The garden 
 of Craven House ran in the direction of the present 
 Drury Lane ; so that where there is now a bustle of a 
 very different sort, we may fancy the old soldier busying 
 himself with his flower-beds, and John Evelyn dis- 
 coursing upon the blessings of peace and privacy." * 
 
 Craven and Monk, Duke of Albemarle, heroically 
 stayed in town during the dreadful pestilence ; and, at the 
 hazard of their lives, preserved order. For their noble 
 services, two or three great silver flagons were made, 
 as gifts of the King. Craven continued to reside at 
 Craven House, Drury Lane, throughout the whole time 
 of the Plague in 1665-6. He first hired and then 
 purchased a field on which pest-houses (said to be 36 in 
 number) were built by him for persons afflicted with 
 that disease, and in which a common burial-ground 
 was made for thousands who died of it. In 1687, the 
 Earl gave this field and its houses in trust for the poor 
 of St. Clement's Danes, St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, St. 
 James's, Westminster, and St. Paul's, Co vent Garden, 
 to be used only in case of the plague re-appearing ; and 
 the place came to be known as the Earl of Craven's Pest- 
 field, the Pest-field, the Pest-house-field, or Craven-field. 
 In 1 734, the surrounding district having become covered 
 
 * See The Town. By Leigh Hunt, edit. 1858.
 
 LORD CRAVEN AND THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 155 
 
 with houses and streets, a private Act, 7th George II. 
 c. 11, discharged this pest-house-field from its charita- 
 ble trusts, transferring them without alteration to other 
 land and messuages at and near Byard's Watering Place 
 (Bayswater), Paddington, now called Craven Hill. 
 
 A singular memorial of this heroic man existed to 
 our time. Craven Buildings were erected in 1723, 
 upon part of the grounds attached to Craven House. 
 On the wall at the bottom of the buildings was formerly 
 a fresco painting of the gallant Earl, who was repre- 
 sented in armour, mounted on a white charger, and 
 with a truncheon in his hand, and the letters W. C. 
 This portrait was twice or thrice repainted in oil ; the 
 last time by Edwards, A.R. A., author of A Treatise on 
 Perspective : the picture has been some years obliterated. 
 The Craven Head Tavern was one of the offices of 
 Craven House ; and the adjoining stabling belonged to 
 the mansion. 
 
 Craven Buildings have had some remarkable tenants : 
 Hayman, the painter, contemporary with Hogarth, 
 lived here. The famous actress, Mrs. Bracegirdle, had 
 likewise a house here, which was afterwards inhabited 
 by the equally celebrated Mrs. Pritchard. In the back 
 parlour of No. 17, Dr. Arne composed the music of 
 Comus. Elliston had a house during his lesseeship of 
 the Olympic Theatre, and communicating with it ; and 
 the same house was temporarily occupied by Madame 
 Vestris and Mr. William Farren, as Olympic lessees. 
 
 It was in Drury Lane that Pepys, 7th June 1665, 
 saw two or three houses marked with a red cross upon 
 
 * In Pennant's London, edit. 1813, we read: "The portrait which 
 was preserved by the late Earl, with laudable attention, is now covered 
 with plaster."
 
 156 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 the doors, and " Lord have mercy upon us " writ there, 
 and the first of the kind he ever saw. 
 
 It will be recollected, from the several accounts of 
 the Plague in London, that a cross was affixed by the 
 authorities to the door of the house where there was in- 
 fection. In the Guildhall Library, not long since, among 
 some broadsides, was found one of these " Plague 
 Crosses." It was the ordinary size of a broadside, and 
 bore a cross extending to the edges of the paper, on 
 which were printed the words " Lord have mercy upon 
 us." In the four quarters formed by the limbs of the 
 cross, were printed directions for managing the patient, 
 regulations for visits, medicines, food, and water. This 
 " Cross " is not now to be found. 
 
 ADDISON'S "CAMPAIGN." 
 
 THIS celebrated poem originated as follows. The 
 Lord Treasurer, Godolphin, though not a reading man, 
 was mortified, and not without reason, by the exceed- 
 ing badness of the poems which appeared in honour 
 of the Battle of Blenheim. One of these poems has 
 been rescued from oblivion by the exquisite absurdity 
 of three lines : 
 
 Think of two thousand gentlemen at least, 
 And each man mounted on his capering beast ; 
 Into the Danube they were pushed by shoals. 
 
 Where to procure better verses the Treasurer did not 
 know. He understood how to negotiate a loan, or 
 remit a subsidy : he was also well versed in the history 
 of running horses and fighting cocks ; but his acquaint^ 
 ance amongst the poets was very small. He consulted
 
 ADDISON'S "CAMPAIGN." 157 
 
 Halifax ; but Halifax affected to decline the office of 
 adviser. " I do know," he said, " a gentleman who 
 would celebrate the battle in a manner worthy of the 
 subject; but I will not name him." Godolphin, who 
 was expert at the soft answer which turneth away 
 wrath, gently replied that the services of a man such 
 as Halifax had described should be liberally rewarded. 
 Halifax then mentioned Addison, but, mindful of the 
 dignity as well as of the pecuniary interest of his friend, 
 insisted that the Minister should apply in the most 
 courteous manner to Addison himself, and this Godol- 
 phin promised to do. 
 
 Addison then occupied a garret up three pair of 
 stairs, over a small shop in the Haymarket. In this 
 humble lodging he was surprised, on the morning fol- 
 lowing the conversation between Godolphin and Hali- 
 fax, by a visit from no less a person than the Right 
 Honourable Henry Boyle, then Chancellor of the 
 Exchequer, and afterwards Lord Carleton. This high- 
 born Minister had been sent by the Lord Treasurer as 
 ambassador to the needy poet. Addison readily under- 
 took the proposed task a task which, to so good a Whig, 
 was probably a pleasure. When the poem was little 
 more than half finished he showed it to Godolphin, who 
 was delighted with it, and particularly with the famous 
 similitude of the Angel. Addison was instantly ap- 
 pointed to a Commissionership worth about two 
 hundred pounds a year, and was assured that this 
 appointment was only an earnest of greater favours. 
 
 The Campaign came forth, and was as much admired 
 by the public as by the Minister. Its chief merit is 
 that which was noticed by Johnson the manly 
 and rational rejection of fiction. Lord Macaulay,
 
 158 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 from whose admirable paper on Addison these details 
 are condensed, there refers to the battles with which 
 Homer was familiar, of men who sprung from the gods 
 communed with the gods face to face of men, one 
 of whom could, with ease, hurl rocks, which two sturdy 
 hinds of a later period would be unable to lift. He, 
 therefore, naturally, represented their martial exploits 
 as resembling in kind, but far surpassing in magnitude, 
 those of the stoutest and most expert combatants of 
 his own age. These are termed by Macaulay, " magni- 
 ficent exaggerations of the real hero ;" and with his 
 usual fondness for parallel, so successful in this great 
 master of the art of writing, Macaulay remarks : "In all 
 rude societies, similar notions are found. There are, at 
 this day, countries where the Lifeguardsman Shaw 
 would be considered as a much greater warrior than the 
 Duke of Wellington. Bonaparte loved to describe 
 the astonishment with which the Mamelukes looked 
 at his diminutive figure. Mourad Bey, distinguished 
 above all his fellows by his bodily strength, and by 
 the skill with which he managed his horse and sabre, 
 could not believe that a man who was scarcely five feet 
 high, and rode like a butcher, could be the greatest 
 soldier in Europe." 
 
 The detestable fashion of exaggeration was copied 
 in modern times, and continued to prevail down to the 
 affe of Addison. Several versifiers had described 
 
 O 
 
 William turning thousands to flight by his single 
 prowess, and dyeing the Boyne with Irish blood. 
 Nay, so estimable a writer as John Philips, the author 
 of the Splendid Shilling, represented Marlborough as 
 having won the battle of Blenheim merely by strength 
 of muscle and skill in fence.
 
 ADDISON'S "CAMPAIGN." 159 
 
 Addison, with excellent sense and taste, departed 
 from this ridiculous fashion. He reserved his praise for 
 the qualities which made Marlborough truly great 
 energy, sagacity, military science. But, above all, the 
 poet extolled the firmness of that mind which, in the 
 midst of confusion, uproar, and slaughter, examined 
 and disposed everything with the serene wisdom of a 
 higher intelligence. 
 
 Here it was that he introduced the famous compari- 
 son of Marlborough to an Angel guiding the whirl- 
 wind. Macaulay then points to one circumstance 
 which appears to have escaped all the critics. The 
 extraordinary effect which his simile produced when it 
 first appeared, and which to the following generation 
 seemed inexplicable, is doubtless to be chiefly attri- 
 buted to a line which most readers now regard as a 
 feeble parenthesis : 
 
 " Such as of late o'er pale Britannia pass'd." 
 
 " Addison spoke not of a storm, but of the storm. The 
 great tempest of 1703 the only tempest which, in our 
 latitude, has equalled the rage of a tropical hurricane 
 had left a dreadful recollection in the minds of all men. 
 No other tempest was ever in this country the occasion 
 of a parliamentary address, or of a public fast. Whole 
 fleets had been cast away. Large mansions had been 
 blown down. One prelate had been buried beneath 
 the ruins of his palace. London and Bristol had pre- 
 sented the appearance of cities just sacked. Hundreds 
 of families were still in mourning. The prostrate 
 trunks of large trees, and the ruins of houses, still 
 attested, in all the southern counties, the fury of the 
 blast. The popularity which the simile of the Angel 
 enjoyed among Addison's contemporaries has always
 
 160 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 seemed to us to be a remarkable instance of the ad- 
 vantage which, in rhetoric and poetry, the particular 
 has over the general." 
 
 The house in which Addison lodged has not been 
 identified in the Haymarket of our time. We have a 
 minute record of Pope having visited the house with 
 the feeling of homage to genius. The Bard of Twick- 
 enham is stated to have asked Walter Harte to ascend 
 three pair of stairs, and enter a small top room above 
 a small shop in the Haymarket; when they were 
 within the room,P ope said to Harte, " In this garret 
 Addison wrote his Campaign" 
 
 Thackeray has cleverly illustrated this bright turn in 
 Addison's fortunes. He quotes from the Campaign 
 Marlborough's equanimity, and the wonderful simile : 
 
 " So when an angel, by Divine command, 
 With rising tempests shakes a guilty land 
 (Such as of late o'er pale Britannia pass'd), 
 Calm and serene he drives the furious blast; 
 And pleas'd the Almighty's orders to perform, 
 Bides on the whirlwind, and directs the storm." 
 
 " Addison left off at a good moment," adds Thackeray. 
 " That simile was pronounced to be the greatest ever 
 produced in poetry. That angel, that good angel, flew 
 off with Mr. Addison, and landed him in the place of 
 Commissioner of Appeals vice Mr. Locke, providen- 
 tially promoted. In the following year, Mr. Addison 
 went to Hanover with Lord Halifax, and the year 
 after was made Under- Secretary of State. O angel 
 visits ! you come * few and far between ' to literary 
 gentlemen's lodgings ! Your wings seldom quiver at 
 second-floor windows now ! "
 
 161 
 
 LADIES EXCLUDED FEOM THE HOUSE OF LOEDS. 
 
 IT was in the year 1738 that it was resolved to 
 exclude ladies from the galleries of the two Houses of 
 Parliament. The execution of the resolution led to a 
 strange scene, which is thus cleverly described in a 
 letter of this date, by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu: 
 " At the last warm debate in the House of Lords, it 
 was unanimously resolved there should be no crowd of 
 unnecessary auditors ; consequently, the fair sex were 
 excluded, and the gallery destined to the sole use of the 
 House of Commons. Notwithstanding which determi- 
 nation a tribe of dames resolved to show on this occasion 
 that neither men nor laws could resist them. These 
 heroines were Lady Huntingdon, the Duchess of 
 Queensbury, the Duehess of Amaster, Lady West- 
 moreland, Lady Cobham, Lady Charlotte Edwin, Lady 
 Archibald Hamilton and her daughter, Mrs. Scott, 
 Mrs. Pendarves, and Lady Saunderson. I am thus 
 particular in their names, because I look upon them to 
 be the boldest assertors, and most resigned sufferers for 
 liberty I ever read of. They presented themselves at 
 the door at nine o'clock in the morning, when Sir 
 William Saunderson respectfully informed them the 
 Chancellor had made an order against their admittance. 
 The Duchess of Queensbury, as head of the squadron, 
 pished at the ill-breeding of a mere lawyer, and desired 
 him to let them upstairs privately. After some modest 
 refusals, he swore by G he would not let them in. 
 Her Grace, with a noble warmth, answered by G 
 they would come in, in spite of the Chancellor and the 
 whole House. This being reported, he then resolved 
 to starve them out ; an order was made that the door 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 should not be opened till they had raised the siege. 
 These Amazons now showed themselves qualified for 
 the duty even of foot soldiers ; they stood there till 
 five in the afternoon, without either sustenance or 
 evacuation, every now and then playing volleys of 
 thumps, kicks, and raps, against the door, with so 
 much violence that the speakers in the House were 
 scarce heard. When the Lords were not to be con- 
 quered by this, the two Duchesses (very well apprised 
 of the use of stratagem in war) commanded a dead 
 silence of half an hour ; and the Chancellor, who 
 thought this a certain proof of their absence (the Com- 
 mons also being very impatient to enter), gave order 
 for the opening of the door; upon which they all 
 rushed in, pushed aside their competitors, and placed 
 themselves in the front rows of the gallery. They 
 stayed there till after eleven, when the House rose ; 
 and during the debate gave applause, and showed 
 marks of dislike, not only by smiles and winks (which 
 have always been allowed in such cases), but by 
 noisy laughs and contempts ; which is supposed the 
 true reason why poor Lord Hervey spoke so miser- 
 ably." 
 
 JEMMY DAWSON. 
 
 KENNINGTON COMMON was, in the last century, the 
 place of execution for the county of Surrey ; at the 
 present day it presents nothing to remind us of its 
 criminal history. It is no longer the place of the 
 gibbet, or has its green turf trodden down by crowds 
 flocking to pugilistic contests, or the orations of political 
 brawlers ; but it is now a healthful place of recreation,
 
 JEMMY DAWSON. 163 
 
 with its lawn, its shrubs, and flowers. With the great 
 Chartist gathering in 1848 upon this spot, the political 
 fame of Kennington Common may be said to have 
 ceased. 
 
 Still, one of its last century events lingers in the 
 simple tenderness and pathos of one of the songs of 
 Shenstone, which narrates in its homely verse the 
 mournful tale of Captain James Dawson, one of the 
 eight officers of the Manchester regiment of volun- 
 teers in the service of the young Chevalier, who were 
 hanged, drawn, and quartered on Kennington Common, 
 in 1746. 
 
 Shenstone, " whose mind was not very comprehen- 
 sive, nor his curiosity active," was content to take the 
 event of his song from a narrative first published in the 
 Parrot, of August 2, 1746, as follows : " Mr. James 
 Dawson was one of those unfortunate gentlemen who 
 suffered on Kennington Common for high treason ; 
 and had he either been acquitted or received the Royal 
 mercy after condemnation, the day of his enlargement 
 was to have been the day of his marriage. The fol- 
 lowing are the particulars of his execution, and the fate 
 of the unfortunate young lady to whom he was sincerely 
 attached : 
 
 " On her being informed that Mr. Dawson was to be 
 executed, not all the persuasions of her kindred could 
 prevent her from going to the place of execution ; she 
 accordingly followed the sledge in a hackney coach, 
 accompanied by a gentleman nearly related to her, and 
 a female friend. Having arrived at the place of execu- 
 tion, she got near enough to see the fire kindled that 
 was to consume him, and all the other dreadful prepa- 
 rations, without betraying any of those emotions her 
 
 M 2
 
 164 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 friends apprehended. But when all was over and she 
 found he was no more, she threw her head back in the 
 coach, and ejaculating, ' My dear, I follow thee ! Lord 
 Jesus, receive our souls together ! ' fell on the neck of 
 her companion, and expired the very moment she had 
 done speaking. Most excessive grief, which the force 
 of her resolution had kept smothered within her breast, 
 is thought to have put a stop to the vital motion, and 
 suffocated at once all the animal spirits." In the 
 Whitehall Evening Post of August 7, 1746, the above 
 narrative is copied, and the remark added, that " upon 
 enquiry, every circumstance was literally true." The 
 catastrophe is thus reproduced in Shenstone's song : 
 
 But though, dear youth, thou shouldst be dragged 
 
 To yonder ignominious tree, 
 Thou shalt not want a faithful friend 
 
 To share thy bitter fate with thee. 
 
 then her mourning coach was called, 
 
 The sledge moved slowly on before ; 
 Though borne in her triumphal car, 
 
 She had not loved her favourite more. 
 
 She followed him, prepared to view 
 
 The terrible behests of law; 
 And the last scene of Jemmy's woes 
 
 With calm and steadfast eye she saw. 
 
 Distorted was that blooming face, 
 
 Which she had fondly loved so long ; 
 And stifled was that tuneful breath, 
 
 Which in her praise had sweetly sung ; 
 
 And severed was that beauteous neck, 
 
 Kound which her arms had fondly closed ; 
 And mangled was that beauteous breast, 
 
 On which her love-sick head reposed ; 
 
 And ravished was that constant heart, 
 
 She did to every heart prefer ; 
 For though it would its King forget, 
 
 'Twas true and loyal still to her.
 
 SECRET VISITS OF THE YOUNG PRETENDER. 165 
 
 Amid those unrelenting flames 
 
 She bore this constant heart to see ; 
 And when 'twas mouldered into dust, 
 
 Now, now, she cried, I follow thee. 
 
 My death, my death alone can show 
 
 The pure and lasting love I bore : 
 Accept, Heaven ! of woes like ours, 
 
 And let us, let us weep no more. 
 
 The dismal scene was o'er and past, 
 
 The lover's mournful hearse retired ; 
 The maid drew back her languid head, 
 
 And, sighing forth his name, expired. 
 
 SECEET VISITS OF THE YOUNG PEETENDEK TO 
 LONDON. 
 
 AT Christmas 1864, the appearance in the Times 
 journal of a letter from the Queen's Librarian at 
 Windsor Castle relating to the Stuart Papers acquired 
 by George IV., when Prince Regent, and deposited in 
 the Royal Library by William IV., led to a revival of 
 the historic doubt as to the Secret Visits of Prince 
 Charles Edward (the young Pretender) to London ; 
 and produced the following very interesting evidences, 
 contributed by a painstaking correspondent to the 
 above-named journal. 
 
 It seems to be pretty generally taken for granted 
 that Prince Charles Edward paid but one single visit 
 to London ; whereas four different occasions have been 
 recorded in which he is said to have risked his liberty, 
 if not his life, by making secret journeys to the British 
 metropolis. The first of these presumed adventures is 
 thus set forth by Forsyth, the accomplished traveller 
 in Italy :
 
 166 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 " England was just respiring from the late Rebellion, 
 when in 1748, on the faith of a single gentleman, he 
 (the Prince) set off for London in a hideous disguise, 
 under the name of Smith. On arriving there he was 
 introduced at midnight into a room full of conspirators 
 whom he had never seen. ' Here,' said his conductor, 
 ' is the person you want,' and left him locked up in this 
 mysterious assembly. These were men who imagined 
 themselves equal at that time to treat with him for the 
 throne of England. * Dispose of me, gentlemen, as you 
 please,' said Charles. * My life is in your power, and 
 I therefore can stipulate for nothing. Yet give me, I 
 entreat you, one solemn promise, that, if your design 
 should succeed, the present family shall be sent safely 
 and honourably home.' For a few days the young ad- 
 venturer was flattered with the glorious prospect, until 
 difficulties arose on the part of the French Ambassador, 
 whose Court had cooled in the Stuart cause. Charles 
 remained on the rack of suspense for a week in London, 
 where different persons recognised him in the streets, 
 but (such was ever his only good fortune) none be- 
 trayed him. He then returned to Paris to encounter 
 cruel indignation, and was there arrested and expelled 
 the kingdom." Forsytes Remarks on Italy, p. 436, 
 . 4th ed. 
 
 Lord Stanhope, in his History of England (vol. iii. 
 p. 253, note, 2nd ed.), takes it for granted that Forsyth 
 has mistaken the year 1748 for 1750; but, presuming 
 that Forsyth, whose " scrupulous accuracy " Lord 
 Stanhope himself admits, is correct in his data that the 
 visit was made previously to the Prince's arrest and 
 imprisonment by the French Court, in that case it 
 must unquestionably have taken place before the year
 
 SECRET VISITS OP THE YOUNG PRETENDER. 167 
 
 1750. The coincidence is rather a curious one that 
 the nickname of " Smith " was the same which the 
 Prince's great-grandfather, Charles I., adopted on the 
 occasion of his clandestine and romantic visit to Spain 
 in 1623. (HoivelTs Letters, p. 132, 10th ed.) 
 
 That Prince Charles visited London in the year 
 1750 is unquestionable; indeed, the following extracts 
 from Dr. King's Anecdotes of his Own Time (p. 196 
 and p. 199, note, 2nd ed.) are of themselves sufficient 
 to remove any doubt on the subject : 
 
 " September, 1750, I received a note from my Lady 
 Primrose, who desired to see me immediately. As soon 
 as I waited on her (in Essex Street, Strand), she led 
 me into her dressing-room and presented me to the 
 Prince. If I was surprised to find him there, I was 
 still more astonished when he acquainted me with the 
 motives which had induced him to hazard a journey to 
 England at this juncture. The impatience of his 
 friends who were in exile had formed a scheme which 
 was impracticable ; but although it had been as feasible 
 as they had represented to him, yet no preparation had 
 been made, nor was anything ready to carry it into 
 execution. He was soon convinced that he had been 
 deceived, and therefore, after a stay in London of five 
 days only, he returned to the place from whence he 
 came. 
 
 " He came one evening to my lodgings, and drank 
 tea with me. My servant, after he was gone, said 
 to me that he thought my new visitor was very 
 like Prince Charles. l Why,' said I, ' have you ever 
 seen Prince Charles ? ' * No, sir,' replied the fel- 
 low, 'but this gentleman, whoever he may be, ex- 
 actly resembles the busts of Prince Charles.' The
 
 168 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 truth is, these busts were taken in plaster of Paris from 
 his face." 
 
 This is the particular visit, the duration of which 
 has been a matter of discussion between the Queen's 
 Librarian and Lord Stanhope, and which the Prince 
 has twice recorded in his memoranda, once in the Old 
 and again in the New Style : 
 
 "O.S. Ye 5th Sept. 1750 arrived; ye llth parted 
 to Dover." 
 
 "N.S. At London ye 16th; parted from London 
 ye 22d." 
 
 Thus, not reckoning the broken days of arrival and 
 departure, it will be seen that Dr. King's statement 
 (Anecdotes, p. 197) that the Prince's stay in London 
 lasted for " five days only " is perfectly correct. 
 
 The two notes compared and found inconsistent as 
 to dates by Lord Stanhope may be reconciled by re- 
 membering the 11 days' difference between old and 
 new style in the middle of the last century. In No. 1 
 the Pretender says he " parted from London the 22d, 
 and arrived at Paris the 24th ; " the dates, new style, 
 are the same as those he gives in No. 2 as " O.S., the 
 llth parted to Dover . . . the 13th at Paris," the old 
 style being 11 days earlier. 
 
 The next assumed visit of Charles Edward to London 
 took place, according to Hume, in 1753 ; or, according 
 to Philip Thicknesse, in his Memoirs, " about the year 
 1754." The following extract of a letter from Hume 
 to Sir John Pringle, dated February 10, 1773, contains 
 the principal particulars respecting this visit, such as 
 they were related to the historian by one of the most 
 devoted of the partisans of the House of Stuart, Earl 
 Marischal:
 
 SECRET VISITS OF THE YOUNG PRETENDER. 169 
 
 " That the present Pretender was in London in the 
 year 1753 I know with the greatest certainty, because 
 I had it from Lord Marischal, who said it consisted 
 with his certain knowledge. Two or three days after 
 his Lordship gave me this information he told me that 
 the evening before he had learnt several curious par- 
 ticulars from a lady who I imagine to be Lady Primrose, 
 though my lord refused to name her. The Pretender 
 came to her house in the evening without giving her 
 any preparatory information, and entered the room 
 where she had a pretty large company with her, and 
 was herself playing at cards. He was announced by 
 the servant under another name. She thought the 
 cards would have dropped from her hands on seeing 
 him, but she had presence enough of mind to call him 
 by the name he assumed, to ask him when he came to 
 England, and how long he intended to stay there. 
 After he and all the company went away, the servants 
 remarked how wonderfully like the strange gentleman 
 was to the Prince's picture, which hung on the chimney- 
 piece in the very room in which he entered. My lord 
 added (I think from the authority of the same lady) 
 that he used so little precaution that he went abroad 
 openly in daylight in his own dress, only laying aside his 
 blue riband and star ; walked once through St. James's, 
 and took a turn in the Mall. About five years ago I 
 told this story to Lord Holdernesse, who was Secretary 
 of State in the year 1753 ; and I added I supposed this 
 piece of intelligence had escaped his Lordship. * By 
 no means,' said he, ' and who, do you think, first told it 
 me ? It was the King himself (George II.), who sub- 
 joined, " and what do you think, my lord, I should do 
 with him?"' Lord Holdernesse owned that he was
 
 170 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 puzzled how to reply ; for if he declared his real senti- 
 ments they might savour of indifference to the Royal 
 Family. The King perceived his embarrassment, and 
 extricated him from it by adding, ' My lord, I shall 
 just do nothing at all, and when he is tired of England 
 he will go abroad again.' I think this story, for the 
 honour of the late King, ought to be more generally 
 known." (Nichols's Literary Anecdotes of the 18 th 
 Century, vol. ix. p. 401.) 
 
 The fact of this remarkable conversation having 
 taken place between the King and his Minister has been 
 repudiated by Lord Stanhope (Hist, of EngL, vol. iv. 
 p. 13), on the supposition that the date to which it is 
 assignable is during the Prince's visit to London in 
 September 1750; and accordingly, as his Lordship 
 discovers that during all that month George II. was 
 absent in his Hanoverian dominions, he naturally arrives 
 at the conclusion that the conversation could never 
 have taken place. Not only, however, does Hume, in 
 his letter to Sir John Pringle, three times over mention 
 the year as having been 1753, but Lord Holdernesse, 
 who vouches for the truth of it, was not appointed 
 Secretary of State till 1751. By some much more 
 curious conception Sir Walter Scott, who has told the 
 world so much that is interesting respecting Charles 
 Edward, has not only committed the anachronism of 
 making George III., instead of George II., the hero of 
 the foregoing anecdote, but instances it as proof of the 
 " goodness of heart and soundness of policy " of the 
 former monarch. (Red Gauntlet, note to Chapter 11.) 
 The following is the passage in Thicknesse's Memoirs 
 (p. 340), previously referred to as tending to corrobo-
 
 SECRET VISITS OP THE YOUNG PRETENDER. 171 
 
 rate the assumption that the Prince paid a secret visit 
 to London in or about the year 1753 : 
 
 " That this unfortunate man was in London about 
 the year 1754 is positively asserted. He came hither 
 contrary to the opinions of all his friends abroad, but 
 he was determined, he said, to see the capital of that 
 kingdom over which he thought himself born to reign. 
 After being a few hours at a lady's house in Essex 
 Street, in the Strand, he was met by one who knew his 
 person in Hyde Park, and who made an attempt to 
 kneel to him. This circumstance so alarmed the lady 
 at whose house he resided that a boat was procured the 
 same night, and he returned instantly to France." 
 
 The details of the Prince's visit to Essex Street, as 
 related by Hume, are curiously substantiated by a me- 
 morandum of the Right Hon. Charles Williams Wynn, 
 to whom they were " often repeated " by his grand- 
 mother, who received them direct from Lady Primrose 
 herself. It appears from Mr. Wynn's account that, in 
 whatever year the visit to which he refers may have 
 occurred, the Prince on that occasion was introduced 
 to Lady Primrose and her guests by the name of 
 " Browne." (Diaries of a Lady of Quality, p. 290.) 
 
 The fourth and last of the assumed secret visits of 
 Charles Edward to London dates in 1761, this being 
 the occasion on which he is popularly supposed to have 
 been a spectator of the coronation of George III. The 
 following is Hume's account of the latter incident, as 
 related to him by the Earl Marischal, on whose sole 
 authority its credibility seems to rest : 
 
 " What will surprise you more, Lord Marischal, a 
 few days after the coronation of the present King, told 
 me he believed the Pretender was at that time in
 
 172 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 London, or at least had been so very lately, and had 
 come over to see the show of the coronation, and had 
 actually seen it. I asked my lord the reason for this 
 strange fact. * Why,' says he, * a gentleman told me 
 so that saw him there, and that he even spoke to him 
 and whispered in his ear these words, * Your Royal 
 Highness is the last of all mortals whom I should 
 expect to see here.' ' It was curiosity that led me,' 
 said the other ; * but I assure you,' added he, ' that the 
 person who is the object of all this pomp and magni- 
 ficence is the man I envy the least.' You see this 
 story is so nearly traced from the fountain-head as to 
 wear a great face of probability. Query What if 
 the Pretender had taken up Dymock's gauntlet?" 
 (Nichols's Lit. Anecdotes, v. ix. p. 401.) 
 
 With regard to the Prince's renunciation of the 
 Roman Catholic religion, there are two passages in his 
 Memoranda (Times, December 27, 1864) which are 
 valuable as showing that that event took place in 1750. 
 With regard to the abstract fact of the Prince's con- 
 version to Protestantism, it has already been substan- 
 tiated by a letter, preserved among Bishop Forbes's 
 MSS., from the Prince to his friends in Scotland, dated 
 August 12, 1762: "Assure my friends in Britain 
 
 that I am in perfect health They may 
 
 be assured that I shall live and die in the religion of 
 the Church of England, which I have embraced." 
 (Chambers^ History of the Rebellion of 1745, p. 422, 
 6th ed.) According to Hume, it was in the church of 
 St. Mary-le-Strand, or, as it was then styled, " the 
 New Church in the Strand," that Charles Edward 
 formally renounced the Roman Catholic faith. 
 
 It may be mentioned that the Lady Primrose who
 
 THE RIOTS OF 1780. 173 
 
 has been more than once referred to was the same lady 
 whose house in Essex Street, in 1747, afforded a home 
 to the celebrated Flora Macdonald after her release 
 from the mild durance in which she had been detained 
 by the Government. Lady Primrose, whose maiden 
 name was Drelincourt, was the daughter of the Dean 
 of Armagh, and widow of Hugh, third Viscount 
 Primrose. 
 
 THE KIOTS OF 1780. 
 
 THESE disgraceful tumults originated in the meet- 
 ing held by the Protestant Association in Coach- 
 makers' Hall, whereat on May 29, 1780, the follow- 
 ing resolution was proposed and carried : " That the 
 whole body of the Protestant Association do attend in 
 St. George's Fields, on Friday next, at 10 of the 
 clock in the morning, to accompany Lord George 
 Gordon to the House of Commons on the delivery of 
 the Protestant Petition [for the repeal of the Roman 
 Catholic Relief Bill]." His Lordship, who was pre- 
 sent, observed, " If less than 20,000 of his fellow- 
 citizens attended him on that day, he would not pre- 
 sent their petition." On the day appointed (Friday, 
 the end of June), the Association assembled in St. 
 George's Fields. There was a vast concourse, and 
 their numbers increasing, they marched over London 
 Bridge in separate divisions ; and through the City 
 to Westminster 50,000, at least, in number. Lord 
 George Gordon and his followers wore blue ribands 
 in their hats ; and each division was preceded by its 
 respective banner, bearing the words " No Popery." At 
 Charing Cross they were joined by additional numbers,
 
 174 ROMANCE OP LONDON. 
 
 on foot, on horseback, and in carriages. All the 
 avenues to both Houses of Parliament were entirely 
 filled. About eight, the Lords adjourned, and were 
 suffered to go home ; though the rioters declared that 
 if the other House did not repeal the Bill, there would 
 at night be terrible mischief. Lord George Gordon 
 was runing backwards and forwards, from the windows 
 of the Speaker's Chamber, denouncing all that spoke 
 against him to the mob in the lobby. Still, the mem- 
 bers were besieged, and were locked up for four hours ; 
 and there was a moment when they thought they must 
 have opened the doors, and fought their way out sword 
 in hand. Lord North was very firm, and at last they 
 got the guards and cleared the pass. 
 
 Blue banners had been waved from the tops of houses 
 at Whitehall as signals to the people, while the coaches 
 passed, whom they should applaud or abuse. Sir 
 George Savile's and Charles Turner's coaches were 
 demolished. At half-past ten, a new scene opened ; 
 the mob forced the Sardinian Minister's Chapel in Lin- 
 coln's Inn Fields, and gutted it : he saved nothing 
 but two chalices, lost the silver lamps, &c., and the 
 benches being tossed in the street, were food for a 
 bonfire, with the blazing brands of which they set fire 
 to the inside of the chapel, nor, till the guards arrived, 
 would suffer the engines to play. The Roman Catholic 
 Chapel in Warwick-street, Golden-square, shared 
 the same fate ; and, " as the owner was a Prince of 
 Smugglers, as well as Bavarian Minister, great quan- 
 ties of rum, tea, and contraband goods were found in 
 his house." 
 
 On Monday the mob gutted Sir George Savile's 
 house in Leicester Fields, burnt all the furniture and
 
 THE RIOTS OF 1780. 175 
 
 pictures, but the building was saved ; though the rioters 
 tore up the iron railings, which they carried off as 
 weapons. Next day, they pulled down Sir John 
 Fielding's house in Bow Street, and burnt his goods in 
 the street. They then went to Newgate, to demand 
 their companions who had been seized, demolishing a 
 chapel. The Keeper could not release them but by 
 the Sheriff's permission, which he sent to ask. At his 
 return he found all the prisoners released, and New- 
 gate in a blaze. The mob had broken the gates with 
 crows and other instruments, and climbed up the out- 
 side of the cell which joined the two great wings of 
 the building, where the felons were confined. They 
 broke the roof, tore away the rafters, descended and 
 released the prisoners. Crabbe, the poet, then a young 
 man in London, has described the scene in his journal : 
 " I stood and saw," he says, " about 12 women and 
 8 men ascend from their confinement to the open air, 
 and conducted through the street in their chains. 
 Three of these were to be hanged on Friday. You 
 have no conception of the phrenzy of the multitude. 
 Newgate was at this time open to all ; anyone might 
 get in ; and, what was never the case before, anyone 
 might get out." 
 
 From Newgate the mob went to Bloomsbury Square, 
 pulled down the house of the great Lord Mansfield, 
 and burnt his library : but what his Lordship most 
 regretted to have lost was a speech that he had made 
 on the question of the privilege of Parliament ; he said 
 that it contained all the eloquence and all the law he 
 was master of; that it was fairly written out, and that 
 he had no other copy. 
 
 On Wednesday, the rioters broke open the Fleet,
 
 176 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 the King's Bench, and the Marshalsea, and Wood 
 Street Compter, and Clerkenwell Bridewell, and re- 
 leased all the prisoners. At night they set fire to the 
 King's Bench. The Warden of the Fleet had been 
 directed by the Lord Mayor not to resist the mob, 
 which might have been easily dispersed by a few 
 soldiers. The conflagration must here have been ter- 
 rible : three sides of Fleet Market in flames, besides 
 portions of Fetter Lane and Shoe Lane. This was called 
 the " fatal day." Mr. Langdale, a wealthy Catholic 
 distiller in Holborn, the day before had tried to ap- 
 pease the mob by money and liquor, but now they 
 staved in the casks, and set his premises on fire ; and 
 many of the rioters were killed by drinking the spirits. 
 Barnard's Inn, adjoining Langdale's distillery, was also 
 fired. Seven distinct conflagrations were to be seen 
 at once. The mob extorted money from several persons 
 and houses, on threats of burning them as Catholics ; 
 and the Duke of Gloucester, who went disguised in 
 a hackney-coach to Fleet Market, was stopped and 
 plundered. This day a mob of 5,000 set off for (to 
 sack and burn) Caen- wood (Lord Mansfield's), but 
 were met on the road by a militia regiment and driven 
 back. 
 
 " On Wednesday," says Dr. Samuel Johnson, " I 
 Avalked with Dr. Scott (Lord Stowell) to look at 
 Newgate, and found it in ruins, with the fire yet glow- 
 ing. As I went by, the Protestants were plundering 
 the Session-house at the Old Bailey. There were not, 
 I believe, a hundred ; but they did their work at 
 leisure, in full security, without sentinels, without 
 trepidation, as men lawfully employed, in full day." 
 The Bank was attempted the same night ; but the
 
 RIOTS OF 1780. 177 
 
 height of the panic had passed, and Wilkes headed the 
 party that drove them away. The fires, however, 
 were still kept up, and it was not till the 9th that the 
 City was free from outrage. Eleven thousand troops 
 had been assembled in and near London, and camps 
 held in St. James's and Hyde Parks. The King, 
 during the nights of the riots, sat up with several 
 general officers at the Queen's riding-house, whence 
 messengers were constantly despatched to report the 
 movements of the mob ; and a large number of troops 
 were in the Queen's Gardens and around Buckingham 
 House, where the King frequently visited the Queen 
 and the Royal children. When he was told that the 
 mob was attempting to get into St. James's and the 
 Bank, he forbade the soldiers to fire, but ordered that 
 they should keep off the rioters with their bayonets. 
 
 On the 9th, Lord George Gordon, whose perfect 
 sanity has since been questioned, was arrested by 
 messengers at his own house in Wimpole-street ; he 
 was examined by the Council, and thence committed 
 a prisoner to the Tower, and for ten days was not 
 allowed to see his friends. He was tried for treason 
 in the Court of King's Bench, but, principally through 
 the powerful eloquence of Erskine, was acquitted. In 
 1788, having been twice convicted of libel, he was com- 
 pelled to seek safety in flight ; but being arrested in 
 Holland, and sent back to England, he was committed 
 to Newgate, where he died Nov. 1, 1793 : he is buried 
 in the cemetery of St. James's Chapel, Hampstead- 
 road, without a stone to distinguish the place of his 
 interment. 
 
 Many persons lost their lives in affrays with soldiers, 
 and in the havoc and general confusion of the tumults ; 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 but it is remarkable that although 58 of the rioters 
 were condemned to death by the Commission appointed 
 to try them, only 25 of them actually suffered. The 
 places of execution were selected near to the spot 
 where the criminal's offences had been committed : a 
 person was hanged at the Old Bailey " for demolishing 
 the house of Mr. Akerman, Keeper of Newgate." 
 Seven were hanged in St. George's Fields ; and on this 
 site of the focus of the Gordon Riots, sixty years 
 later, in 1840, was founded the largest Roman Catholic 
 church erected in this country since the Reformation, 
 a remarkable instance of the improved tolerant spirit 
 of the times. 
 
 ALDERMAN BECKFORD AND HIS MONUMENTAL SPEECH. 
 
 THIS celebrated partisan, demagogue some call him, was 
 alderman of Billingsgate Ward, and occupied a promi- 
 nent position in City politics, especially in the first ten 
 years of the reign of George III. This notoriety was 
 much aided by his connexion with Earl Chatham, who 
 unquestionably used the alderman as a sort of political 
 tool. Beckford was of an ancient Gloucestershire family : 
 among the principal adherents of Richard III. at Bos- 
 worth, was Sir William Beckford. After the conquest 
 of Jamaica, in 1656, the Beckford family rose to high 
 station and increased in wealth ; and the father of the 
 Alderman, Peter Beckford, was Speaker of the House 
 of Assembly of Jamaica. To his heir, Peter, suc- 
 ceeded William, of Fonthill, in Wiltshire. Here he 
 resided in an old mansion, which was burnt down in 
 the year 1755 ; the loss was estimated at 30,0007. 
 When this calamity happened, the Alderman was in
 
 BECKFORD'S MONUMENTAL SPEECH. 179 
 
 London : on being informed of the event, he took out 
 his pocket-book, and began to write. When asked what 
 he was doing, " only calculating," he replied, " the ex- 
 pense of rebuilding it. I have an odd fifty thousand 
 in a drawer, and I will build it up again. It will not 
 be above a thousand pounds a-piece difference to my 
 charity children." Fonthill House was accordingly 
 rebuilt with fine stone : it was a lofty mansion, with a 
 centre of four storeys, and wings connected by colon- 
 nades ; it was sumptuously furnished. In 1770, upon 
 the death of the Alderman, his only son, the author of 
 Vathek, succeeded to the property : here he entertained 
 Lord Nelson, and Sir William and Lady Hamilton, 
 with great magnificence, in 1800; but a few years after, 
 the mansion was taken down, when the materials alone 
 were sold for 10,000*. 
 
 To return to the Alderman's history. As early as 
 1754 he had obtained some notoriety. Walpole writes : 
 " Beckford and Delaval, two celebrated partisans, met 
 lately at Shaftesbury; the latter said 
 
 ' Art thou the man whom men famed Beckford call ? ' 
 T'other replied 
 
 ' Art thou the much more famous Delaval ? ' " 
 
 Beckford sat in Parliament for the City, and was twice 
 Lord Mayor ; he died of rheumatic fever during his 
 second mayoralty, June 21, 1770. In the previous 
 month he carried a strong Remonstrance to the King, 
 garnished with my Lord Mayor's own ingredients. 
 " The Court, however," says Walpole, " was put in 
 some confusion by my Lard Mayor, who, contrary to 
 all form and precedent, tacked a volunteer speech to 
 the Remonstrance, It was wondrous loyal and re- 
 
 N 2
 
 180 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 spectful, but, being an innovation, much discomposed 
 the ceremony. It is always usual to furnish a copy of 
 what is to be said to the King, that he may be pre- 
 pared with his answer. In this case he was reduced to 
 tuck up his train, jump from the throne, and take 
 sanctuary in his closet, or answer extempore, which is 
 not part of the royal trade, or sit silent and have no- 
 thing to reply." The City, to mark their sense of 
 Beckford's spirit, erected in the Guildhall a monu- 
 mental statue of the Lord Mayor in the act of address- 
 ing the King ; and, as an inscription, is cut his own 
 speech to King George III., spoken, or said to have 
 been spoken, in great excitement. 
 
 The circumstances are, however, much disputed. To 
 explain these, we must premise that for some time pre- 
 viously " remonstrances," not always expressed in very 
 courteous terms, had been addressed by the Corporation 
 to the King (George III.) on the subject of various 
 alleged grievances. At these, the latter, jealous of the 
 slightest infringement on his prerogative, took exces- 
 sive umbrage, and replied to them accordingly. The 
 interference of the Government with an election for 
 Middlesex was the occasion for renewed offence ; and 
 the citizens, as usual, gave vent to their feelings in a 
 " petition and remonstrance." It was the King's angry 
 reply to this address which is said to have drawn from 
 Beckford the famous speech which is now engraven on 
 his monument. It has been stoutly disputed whether 
 Beckford actually did address George III. in the words 
 written down in history for him, and which also appear 
 on his monument in Guildhall. These words, besides 
 being recorded in marble, appear also in the minutes of 
 the Common Council of the day on which they are
 
 BECKFORD'S MONUMENTAL SPEECH. 181 
 
 stated to have been uttered ; still there has long been 
 a tradition in the neighbourhood of Guildhall, that 
 Home Tooke, who wrote them for Beckford, tampered 
 with the minute-books in the Town-clerk's office, and 
 inserted what was intended to have been spoken by 
 Beckford, had his Majesty given him the opportunity. 
 Mr. Peter Cunningham first embodied that doubt in 
 a communication to the Times ; and, since then, in 
 his new edition of Horace Walpole's Letters, he has 
 strengthened the statement by some contemporary 
 authorities bearing on the subject. His note, in vol. v. 
 p. 238, is as follows : " The speech here alluded to is 
 the one which the Alderman addressed to his Majesty, 
 on the 23rd of May, with reference to the King's reply, 
 that l he should have been wanting to the public, 
 as well as to himself, if he had not expressed his dis- 
 satisfaction at the late address.' At the end of the 
 Alderman's speech, in his copy of the City Addresses, 
 Mr. Isaac Reed has inserted the following note : * It 
 is a curious fact, but a true one, that Beckford did not 
 utter one syllable of this speech. It was penned by 
 Home Tooke, and by his art put on the records of the 
 City, and on Beckford's statue; as he told me, Mr. 
 Braithwaite, Mr. Sayers, &c., at the Athenian Club. 
 Isaac Reed.' There can be little doubt that the worthy 
 commentator and his friends were imposed upon. In 
 the Chatham Correspondence, vol. iii. p. 460, a letter 
 from Sheriff Townsend to the Earl expressly states, 
 that, with the exception of the words " and necessary " 
 being left out before the word " revolution," the Lord 
 Mayor's speech, in the Public Advertiser of the preced- 
 ing day, is verbatim the one delivered to the King. 
 (Wright.} Giiford says (Ben Jonson, vi. 481) that
 
 182 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 Beckford never uttered before the King one syllable of 
 the speech upon his monument and GifFord's state- 
 ment is fully confirmed both by Isaac Reed (as above), 
 and by Maltby, the friend of Rogers and Home Tooke. 
 Beckford made a " Remonstrance Speech " to the King; 
 but the speech on Beckford's monument is the after- 
 speech written for Beckford by Home Tooke. See 
 Mitford's Gray and Mason Correspondence, pp. 438, 
 439. Cunningham. 
 
 Beckford's mansion in Soho-square, at the corner of 
 Greek-street, was, in 1863, sold for 6,400Z. to the House 
 of Charity. It had long been the office of the old Com- 
 missioners of Sewers, and was subsequently occupied 
 by the Board of Works. The interior has some well- 
 designed chimney-pieces, architraves, door and window 
 dressings, which are bold and characteristic specimens 
 of the time. To keep alive his influence with the City, 
 Lord Chatham maintained a correspondence with Beck- 
 ford ; and Walpole states that the day before the Alderman 
 died, Chatham " forced himself into the house, and got 
 away all the letters he had written to that demagogue." 
 About two months before the Alderman's death, in the 
 days of " Wilkes and Liberty," Walpole notes : 
 " The Lord Mayor had enjoined tranquillity as Mayor. 
 As Beckford, his own house, in Soho-square, was em- 
 broidered (illuminated) with ' Liberty' in white letters 
 three feet high." 
 
 Beckford's only son, and heir to his enormous for- 
 tune, Lord Chatham's godchild, was, at the period of 
 his father's death, a boy ten years of age. Three 
 years later, Lord Chatham thus describes him to his 
 own son William : " Little Beckford is just as much 
 compounded of the elements of air and fire as he
 
 ROYALTY DEDUCED FROM A TUB-WOMAN. 183 
 
 was. A due proportion of terrestrial solidity will, I 
 trust, come and make him perfect." " He was after- 
 wards," says Lord Mahon, " well known in a sphere 
 totally different from his father's the author of 
 Vathek the fastidious man of taste the fantastic 
 decorator of Ramalhao and Fonthill." It may be 
 doubted whether the right proportion of " terrestrial 
 solidity " ever came. He died in 1844, in his eighty- 
 fourth year, and is enshrined in a pink granite sarco- 
 phagus. 
 
 EOYALTY DEDUCED FKOM A TUB-WOMAN. 
 
 IN 1768, there appeared in the newspapers the follow- 
 ing paragraph : " During the troubles of the reign of 
 Charles L, a country girl came to London in search of 
 a place ; but not succeeding, she applied to be allowed 
 to carry out beer from a brewhouse. These women 
 were then called tub-women. The brewer, observing 
 her to be a very good-looking girl, took her from this 
 low situation into his house, and afterwards married 
 her ; and while she was yet a young woman, he died, 
 and left her a large fortune. She was recommended, 
 on giving up the brewery, to Mr. Hyde, a most able 
 lawyer, to settle her husband's aiFairs ; he, in process 
 of time, married the widow, and was made Earl of 
 Clarendon. Of this marriage there was a daughter, 
 who was afterwards wife to James II., and mother of 
 Mary and Anne, queens of England." This state- 
 ment was answered by a letter in the London Chro- 
 nicle, December 20, 1768, proving that " Lord 
 Clarendon married Frances, the daughter of Sir 
 Thomas Aylesbury, knight and baronet, one of the
 
 184 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 Masters of Request to King Charles I., by whom he 
 had four sons viz., Henry, afterwards Earl of Claren- 
 don; Lawrence, afterwards Earl of Rochester; Edward, 
 who died unmarried ; and James, drowned on board the 
 Gloucester frigate : also two daughters Anne, married 
 to the Duke of York ; and Frances, married to Thomas 
 Keightley, of Hertingfordbury, in the county of Herts, 
 Esq." The story appears to have been a piece of poli- 
 tical scandal. The mother of the Protector, Oliver 
 Cromwell, is said to have conducted with great ability 
 the affairs of her husband's brewhouse at Huntingdon. 
 This some republican spirit appears to have thought 
 an indignity ; so, by way of retaliation, he determined 
 on sinking the origin of the inheritors of the Crown to 
 the lowest possible grade that of a tub-woman I 
 
 The same story has been told of the wife of Sir 
 Thomas Aylesbury, great-grandmother of the two 
 queens ; and, for anything we know yet of her family, 
 it may be quite true. 
 
 UNFOKTUNATE BAKONETS. 
 
 THE story of the Gargraves for two centuries or 
 more a family of the highest position in Yorkshire 
 is a melancholy chapter in the romance of real life. 
 Its chiefs earned distinction in peace and war; one 
 died in France, Master of the Ordnance to King 
 Henry V. ; another, a soldier too, fell with Salisbury 
 at the siege of Orleans ; and a third filled the Speaker's 
 chair of the House of Commons. What an awful 
 contrast to this fair picture does the sequel offer ! 
 Thomas Gargrave, the Speaker's eldest son, was hung
 
 UNFORTUNATE BARONETS. 185 
 
 at York, for murder ; and his half-brother, Sir Richard, 
 having wasted a splendid estate, was reduced to abject 
 want. At Doncaster, his excesses are still the subject 
 of traditional story, and his love of gaming is com- 
 memorated in an old painting, long preserved in the 
 mansion at Badsworth, in which he is represented 
 playing at the old game of "shot," the right hand 
 against the left, for the stake of a cup of ale. The 
 close of Sir Richard's story is as lamentable as its 
 course. An utter bankrupt in means and reputation, 
 he is stated to have been reduced to travel with the 
 pack-horses to London, and was at last found dead in 
 an old hostelry ! 
 
 A similarly melancholy narrative applies to another 
 great Yorkshire house. Sir William Reresby, baronet, 
 son and heir to the celebrated author, succeeded, at 
 the death of his father, in 1689, to the beautiful estate 
 of Thryberg, in Yorkshire, where his ancestors had 
 been seated uninterruptedly from the time of the Con- 
 quest, and he lived to see himself denuded of every 
 acre of his broad lands. Le Neve, in the MSS. pre- 
 served in the Herald's College, states that he became 
 a tapster in the King's Bench Prison, and was tried 
 and imprisoned for cheating in 1711. He died in great 
 obscurity. Gaming was among Sir William's follies 
 particularly cock-fighting. The tradition at Thryberg 
 is (for his name is not quite forgotten) that the fine 
 estate of Dennaby was staked and lost on a single 
 main. 
 
 Sir William Reresby was not the only baronet who 
 disgraced his order at that period. In 1722, Sir Charles 
 Burton was tried at the Old Bailey for stealing a seal ; 
 pleaded poverty, but was found guilty, and sentenced
 
 186 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 to transportation, which sentence was afterwards com- 
 muted for a milder punishment. 
 
 THE VICTOEY OF CULLODEN. 
 
 GREAT were the faint-heartedness which seized almost 
 all the loyal part of the country, and the folly and con- 
 fusion which reigned, when Prince Charles was making 
 his way to Edinburgh, and on from Edinburgh to the 
 South. Jupiter Carlyle was with Smollett in the 
 British Coffee-house, a great place of resort for Scotch- 
 men, when the news of the victory of Culloden, which 
 put an end to so much disgrace, came to London. 
 Smollett then lived in Mayfair, and Carlyle had to 
 take supper in New Bond Street, and they went very 
 cautiously through the streets of uproarious London to 
 their destinations. The mobs were riotous, the squibs 
 were flying, and the two canny Scots retired into a 
 narrow entry to pocket their wigs lest they should be 
 burnt, and to draw their swords lest they should be 
 attacked. Smollett went further, and cautioned Carlyle 
 not to open his mouth lest he should betray his country, 
 and excite the insolence of the mob against the Scotch 
 marauders ; " for J ohn Bull," said he, " is as haughty 
 and valiant to-night as he was abject and cowardly on 
 the Black Wednesday when the Highlanders were at 
 Derby." After the trembling pair got to the top of the 
 Haymarket, through an incessant fire of squibs, they 
 took to the narrow lanes, and met nobody but a few 
 boys at a pitiful bonfire, to which they contributed 
 sixpence in grateful memory of the singeing which 
 their wigs had escaped from an infuriated mob.
 
 SUICIDE OF LORD CLIVE. 187 
 
 Cumberland Gate, Hyde Park, and Great Cumber- 
 land Street, were named after the hero of Culloden : in 
 the latter street is a public-house, with a full-length 
 portrait of the Duke of Cumberland for its sign. 
 Horace Walpole has an excellent reflection upon this 
 sort of celebrity. " I was yesterday," he writes, in 
 1747, "out of town, and the very signs as I passed 
 through the villages led me to some quaint reflections 
 on the mortality of fame and popularlity. I observed 
 how the Duke of Cumberland's head had succeeded 
 almost universally to Admiral Vernon's, as his head 
 had left few traces of the Duke of Ormond's. I pon- 
 dered these things in my heart, and said unto myself, 
 ' Surely, all glory is but a sign ! ' ' 
 
 SUICIDE OF LOED CLIVE. 
 
 As the reflective lover of the metropolis walks upon 
 the west side of Berkeley Square, he may be reminded 
 that in the house, No. 45, (now the residence of Earl 
 Powis,) the great Lord Clive put an end to himself 
 with a razor, some say with a penknife on the 22nd of 
 November 1774, having just completed his 49th year. 
 Walpole relates the catastrophe, with a difference. 
 Writing from Arlington Street, Nov. 23, he says : " The 
 nation had another great loss last night : Lord Clive 
 went off suddenly. He had been sent for to town by 
 some of his Indian friends and died. . . . Lord 
 H. has just been here, and told me the manner of Lord 
 Clive's death. Whatever had happened, it had flung 
 him into convulsions, to which he was very subject. 
 Dr. Fothergill gave him, as he had done on like occa-
 
 188 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 sions, a dose of laudanum ; but the pain in his bowels 
 was so violent, that he asked for a second dose. Dr. 
 Fothergill said, " if he took another, he would be dead 
 in an hour. The moment Fothergill was gone, he 
 swallowed another, for another, it seems, stood by him, 
 and he is dead." In his next letter, Nov. 24, Walpole 
 writes : " A great event happened two days ago, a 
 political and moral event the sudden death of that 
 second Kouli Khan, Lord Clive. There was, certainly, 
 illness in the case ; the world thinks more than illness. 
 His constitution was exceedingly broken and disordered, 
 and grown subject to violent pains and convulsions. 
 He came unexpectedly to town last Monday, and they 
 say, ill. On Tuesday, his physician gave him a dose 
 of laudanum, which had not the desired effect. Of 
 the rest, there are two stories : one, that the physician 
 repeated the dose ; the other, that he doubled it himself, 
 contrary to advice. In short, he has terminated a life 
 at fifty of so much glory, reproach, art, wealth, and 
 ostentation ! He had just named ten members for the 
 new Parliament." 
 
 Thus fell the founder of the British empire in India. 
 Some lineaments of the character of the man (says Lord 
 Macaulay) were very early discerned in the child. 
 Letters written by him in his seventh year indicate his 
 strong will and fiery passions, sustained by a consti- 
 tutional intrepidity which sometimes seemed hardly 
 compatible with soundness of mind. " Fighting," says 
 one of his uncles, " to which he is out of measure 
 addicted, gives his temper such a fierceness and im- 
 periousness, that he flies to it on every trifling occa- 
 sion." 
 
 At the period of his death, Clive appeared secure in
 
 SUICIDE OF LORD CLIVE. 189 
 
 the enjoyment of his fortune and his honours. " He 
 was surrounded," says Macaulay, " by attached friends 
 and relations ; and he had not yet passed the season of 
 vigorous bodily and mental exertion. But clouds had 
 long been gathering over his mind, and now settled on 
 it in thick darkness. From early youth he had been 
 subject to fits of that strange melancholy ( which 
 rejoiceth exceedingly, and is glad when it can find the 
 grave.' While still a writer at Madras, he had twice 
 attempted to destroy himself. Business and prosperity 
 had produced a salutary effect on his spirits. In India, 
 while he was occupied with great affairs, in England, 
 while wealth and rank had still the charm of novelty, 
 he had borne up against. He had now nothing to do, 
 and nothing to wish for. His active spirit in an in- 
 active situation drooped and withered like a plant in 
 an uncongenial air. The malignity with which his 
 enemies had pursued him, the indignity with which he 
 had been treated by the committee, the censure, lenient 
 as it was, which the House of Commons had pro- 
 nounced, the knowledge that he was regarded by a 
 large portion of his countrymen as a cruel and per- 
 fidious tyrant, all concurred to irritate and depress him. 
 In the meantime his temper was tried by acute phy- 
 sical suffering. During his long residence in tropical 
 climates, he had contracted several painful distempers. 
 In order to obtain ease, he called in the help of opium; 
 and he was gradually enslaved by this treacherous 
 ally. To the last, however, his genius occasionally 
 flashed through the gloom. It was said that he would 
 sometimes, after sitting silent and torpid for hours, rouse 
 himself to the discussion of some great question, would 
 display full vigour in all the talents of the soldier and
 
 190 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 the statesman, and then would sink back into his 
 melancholy repose. ..... 
 
 In his death, " the awful close of so much prosperity 
 and glory, the vulgar saw only a confirmation of all 
 their prejudices ; and some men of real piety and 
 genius so far forgot the maxims both of religion and of 
 philosophy, as confidently to ascribe the mournful 
 event to the just vengeance of God, and to the horrors 
 of an evil conscience. It is with very different feelings 
 that we contemplate the spectacle of a great mind 
 ruined by the weariness of satiety, by the pangs of 
 wounded honour, by fatal diseases, and more fatal 
 remedies." 
 
 He made magnificent presents even to Royalty. 
 Walpole tells us, in 1767, " Lord Clive is arrived, 
 has brought a million for himself, two diamond drops, 
 worth 12,000/., for the Queen; a scimitar, dagger, and 
 other matters, covered with brilliants, for the King, 
 and worth 20,000/. more. These baubles are presents 
 from the deposed and imprisoned Mogul, whose poverty 
 can still afford to give him such bribes. Lord Clive 
 refused some overplus, and gave it to some widows of 
 officers : it amounted to 90,000/." 
 
 FUNEKAL OF NELSON. 
 
 THE Victory, with the remains of our greatest naval 
 hero, arrived at Sheerness, Sunday, December 25, 1805. 
 On the following morning, the body was placed on 
 board the Chatham yacht, proceeding on her way to 
 Greenwich. The coffin, covered with an ensign, was
 
 FUNERAL OF NELSON 7 . 191 
 
 placed on deck. Tuesday, she arrived at Greenwich ; 
 the body, still being in the coffin made of the wreck of 
 L* Orient, was then enveloped in the colours of the 
 Victory, bound round by a piece of rope, and carried 
 by sailors, part of the crew of the Victory, to the 
 Painted Hall, where preparations were made for the 
 lying-in-state on January 5, 6, and 7, 1806. 
 
 On January 8, the first day's procession by water 
 took place, and the remains were removed from Green- 
 wich to Whitehall, and from thence to the Admiralty, 
 with great pomp and solemnity. The procession of 
 barges was nearly a mile long, and minute guns were 
 fired during its progress.* The banner of emblems 
 was borne by Captain Hardy, Lord Nelson's captain. 
 The body was deposited that night in the captain's 
 room at the Admiralty, and attended by the Rev. John 
 Scott : it is the room to the left, as you enter the hall. 
 
 On Thursday, January 9, the procession from the 
 Admiralty to St. Paul's moved forward about eleven 
 o'clock in the morning ; the first part consisting of 
 cavalry regiments, regimental bands with muffled 
 drums, Greenwich pensioners, seamen from the Vic- 
 tory, about 200 mourning coaches, 400 carriages of 
 public officers, nobility, &c., including those of the 
 Royal Family, the Prince of Wales, Duke of Clarence, 
 &c., taking part in the procession. The body, upon a 
 funeral car, was drawn by six led horses. The military 
 force numbered nearly 8,000 men. At Temple Bar, 
 the City officers took their place in the procession. 
 
 * The Author of the present volume, then 4 years 5 months old, has 
 a distinct recollection of seeing this water procession, for which he was 
 held up by a nurse, at the back window of a house, two doors from the 
 south foot of London Bridge, which commanded a view of the river.
 
 192 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 Upon arriving at the Cathedral, they entered by the 
 west gate and the great west door (fronting Ludgate- 
 street), ranging themselves according to their ranks. 
 The seats were placed under the dome, in each arch- 
 way, in front of the piers, and in the gallery over the 
 choir. The seats beneath the dome took the shape of 
 the dome, and held 3,056 persons : from the dome to 
 the great west door, behind an iron railing, persons 
 were allowed to stand. The body was placed on a 
 bier, erected on a raised platform, opposite the eagle 
 lectern. At the conclusion of the service in the choir, 
 a procession was formed to the grave, with banners, &c. 
 The interment being over, Garter proclaimed the style ; 
 and the comptroller, treasurer, and steward of the de- 
 ceased, breaking their staves, gave the pieces to Garter, 
 who threw them into the grave. The procession, 
 arranged by the officers of arms, then returned. 
 
 For a few days the public were admitted by a shilling 
 fee, and allowed to enter the inclosed spot, directly 
 over the body, looking down about ten feet, and were 
 gratified with a sight of the coffin in the crypt, placed 
 upon a platform covered with black cloth. Upon this 
 spot was subsequently erected an altar-tomb, upon 
 which was placed the coffin, within a black marble 
 sarcophagus, originally made by order of Cardinal 
 Wolsey, but left unused in the tomb-house adjoining 
 St. George's Chapel, Windsor. It is surrounded with 
 a viscount's coronet upon a cushion ; on the pedestal 
 is inscribed " Nelson." The remains and the tomb 
 have been removed a short distance ; and upon the 
 spot has been placed the granite sarcophagus con- 
 taining the remains of the great Duke of Wellington. 
 
 Nelson's flag was to have been placed within his
 
 LORD CASTLEREAGH'S BLUNDERS. 193 
 
 coffin, but just as it was about to be lowered for that 
 purpose, the sailors who assisted at the ceremony, with 
 one accord, rent it in pieces, that each might preserve 
 a fragment while he lived. The leaden coffin in which 
 the remains had been brought home, was, in like 
 manner, cut in pieces, which were distributed as " relics 
 of Saint Nelson " as the gunner of the Victory called 
 them. 
 
 LORD CASTLEEEAGH'S BLUNDERS. 
 
 CASTLEREAGH was the most inelegant rhetorician in 
 the House of Commons. He possessed unquestionably 
 very considerable power of mind. An excellent judge, 
 himself one of the most skilful of living debaters, and 
 who sat with Castlereagh in the House of Commons, 
 has said that he often pursued his object in debate with 
 striking discernment and sagacity. But, in doing this, he 
 blundered through every conceivable confusion of meta- 
 phor. He would often hesitate, often seem confused, often 
 express himself by some strange Irishism that became 
 the ridicule of his opponents ; but he seldom lost the 
 thread of his argument, nor delivered a speech that was 
 logically inconsequential. 
 
 It was a strange instance of the feebleness of rhetoric 
 against the strength of rotten boroughs, that the Govern- 
 ment of the country was so long represented, in the 
 most polished assembly of Europe, by a man who could 
 not speak in debate with the signs of education which 
 almost any gentleman would evince in his conversation. 
 When Lord Castlereagh said, in the House of Com- 
 mons, that " he would then embark into the feature on 
 which the proposition before him mainly hinged," there 
 
 VOL. i. o
 
 194 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 is no wonder that Tom Moore asked what were the 
 features of a gate ? When he commenced a reply to 
 an inquiry if he really said as was reported touch- 
 ing a resolution of the Allies at Vienna, with the words, 
 " I and the other Sovereigns of Europe," the House 
 must have laughed at the awkward slip which let fall 
 the conviction, no doubt justly resting on his mind, 
 that he had been on an equality at Vienna with every 
 crowned head. It was the custom and delight of Sir 
 James Mackintosh to record every inelegant phrase as 
 it dropped from Castlereagh's mouth, in a little book 
 which was ever in his pocket as he went down to the 
 House. This little book, an hour or two later, was 
 reproduced at many a Whig dinner-table. "What 
 do you think Castlereagh has been saying just now ? " 
 Mackintosh would ask, almost before shaking hands 
 with his host and hostess, as he drew the little book 
 out of his pocket ; and all conversation was suspended 
 to hear the best joke of the evening. We know not 
 what Sir James Mackintosh's literary executors did 
 with that little book ; but if they destroyed it, they 
 have certainly incurred the penalties of a high breach 
 of trust. 
 
 ACCESSION OF QUEEN VICTORIA. 
 
 IN the Diaries of a Lady of Quality we find the fol- 
 lowing very interesting entry: 
 
 " June 1837. On Monday we were listening all day 
 for the tolling of the bells, watching whether the guests 
 were going to the Waterloo dinner at Apsley House. 
 On Tuesday, at 2 A.M., the scene closed, and in a 
 very short time the Archbishop of Canterbury and
 
 ACCESSION OF QUEEN VICTORIA. 195 
 
 Lord Conyngham, the Chamberlain, set out to an- 
 nounce the event to their young Sovereign. They 
 reached Kensington Palace at about five ; they knocked, 
 they rang, they thumped for a considerable time be- 
 fore they could rouse the porter at the gates ; they 
 were again kept waiting in the courtyard, then turned 
 into one of the lower rooms, where they seemed for- 
 gotten by everybody. They rang the bell, desired 
 that the attendant of the Princess Victoria might be 
 sent to inform H. R. H. that they requested an au- 
 dience on business of importance. After another delay, 
 and another ringing to enquire the cause, the attendant 
 was summoned, who stated that the Princess was in 
 such a sweet sleep she could not venture to disturb 
 her. Then they said, ' We are come to the Queen on 
 business of state, and even her sleep must give way to 
 that.' It did: and to prove that she did not keep 
 them waiting, in a few minutes she came into the room 
 in a loose white nightgown and shawl, her nightcap 
 thrown off, and her hair falling upon her shoulders her 
 feet in slippers, tears in her eyes, but perfectly col- 
 lected and dignified. 
 
 " The first act of the reign was of course the sum- 
 moning the Council, and most of the summonses were 
 not received till after the early hour fixed for its meet- 
 ing. The Queen was, upon the opening of the doors, 
 found sitting at the head of the table. She received 
 first the homage of the Duke of Cumberland, who, I 
 suppose, was not King of Hanover when he knelt to 
 her ; the Duke of Sussex rose to perform the same 
 ceremony, but the Queen, with admirable grace, stood 
 up, and. preventing him from kneeling, kissed him on 
 the forehead. The crowd was so great, the arrange- 
 
 o 2
 
 196 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 ments were so ill-made, that my brothers told me the 
 scene of swearing allegiance to their young Sovereign 
 was more like that of the bidding at an auction than 
 anything else." [Sir David Wilkie has painted the 
 scene but with a difference.] 
 
 THE EOYAL EXCHANGE MOTTO. 
 
 VARIOUS statements have been made regarding the 
 origin and cause of placing the motto on the pediment 
 of the Royal Exchange, London, " The earth is the 
 Lord's, and the fulness thereof," the general impres- 
 sion being that it was suggested by the late Prince 
 Consort. Mr. Tite, M.P., architect of the Exchange, 
 thus explains the matter : " As the work (the build- 
 ing of the Exchange) proceeded, his Royal Highness 
 took much interest in the modelling and carving of the 
 various groups, and condescended very frequently to 
 visit the studio of the sculptor in Wilton Place. The 
 reader may recollect that the figure of Commerce 
 stands on an elevated block or pedestal in the centre 
 of the group, and it became a subject of earnest con- 
 sideration with Mr. Westmacott and myself in what 
 way the plainness of this block could be relieved ; for 
 although in the original model, on a small scale, this 
 defect did not strike the eye, yet in the execution it 
 was very apparent. Wreaths, fasces, festoons were all 
 tried, but the effect was unsatisfactory ; and in this 
 state of affairs Mr. Westmacott submitted the difficulty 
 to his Royal Highness. After a little delay, Prince 
 Albert suggested that the pedestal in question would 
 be a very appropriate situation for a religious inscrip-
 
 RESIDENCE OF THE FRENCH EMPEROR IN 1847-8. 197 
 
 tion, which would relieve the plainness of the surface, 
 in an artistic point of view, and at the same time have 
 the higher merit of exhibiting the devotional feelings 
 of the people and their recognition of a superior 
 Power; and he particularly wished that such inscrip- 
 tion should be in English, so as to be intelligible to 
 all. This happy thought put an end to all difficulty ; 
 and as Dr. Milman, the learned Dean of St. Paul's, 
 had kindly advised me in reference to the Latin in- 
 scriptions on the frieze and in the Merchants' Area, 
 Mr. Westmacott consulted him on this subject also ; 
 and he suggested the words of the Psalmist, which 
 were at once adopted." 
 
 LONDON RESIDENCE OF THE EMPEROR OF THE FRENCH 
 IN 1847-8. 
 
 ON the north side of King Street, leading from St. 
 James's Square, are three or four newly-built houses 
 of handsome Italian style, which form an agreeable 
 contrast with the plain dingy-looking edifices adjoin- 
 ing. The house most to the west of this short row is 
 destined to be for future time one of the places of mark 
 in the metropolis ; for here, for some time, resided, in 
 comparatively humble circumstances, the remarkable 
 man who now wields in his hands the power of benefit- 
 ing not merely France, but the whole of Europe. It 
 is curious to contrast the position of Louis Napoleon 
 at that time with the present, treated as he was with 
 marked coldness by the English aristocracy, and abused 
 and ridiculed by the chief of the press ; there were, 
 however, the Count d'Orsay and others who knew him 
 well who had faith in the man, and dared to say that
 
 198 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 all he required was opportunity. It was when a re- 
 sident in this house that the Prince was sworn in as 
 one of the 150,000 special constables who came forward 
 in 1848 to prevent the dreaded onslaught of the Char- 
 tist rioters. 
 
 On the outbreak of the last French revolution, Louis 
 Napoleon left London for Paris, and addressed a letter 
 to the Provisional Government of France to the fol- 
 lowing effect: 
 
 " At the very moment of the victory of the people, 
 I went to the Hotel de Ville. The duty of every good 
 citizen is to assemble around the Provisional Govern- 
 ment of the Republic. I consider it the first duty to 
 be discharged, and shall be happy if my patriotism may 
 be usefully employed. Receive, &c., 
 
 " Paris, Feb. 26." " Napoleon Bonaparte. 
 
 On the 28th of February he sent a second letter to 
 the Provisional Government, as follows : 
 
 " Gentlemen, The people of France having de- 
 stroyed by their heroism the vestiges of foreign in- 
 vasion, I hasten from the land of exile to place myself 
 under the banner of the Republic just proclaimed. 
 
 " Without any other ambition than that of serving 
 my country, I announce my arrival to the members of 
 the Provisional Government, and assure them of my 
 devotedness to the cause they represent, as well as my 
 sympathy for their persons. 
 
 " Napoleon Louis Bonaparte." 
 
 The Times of that date observed : " Prince Louis 
 Napoleon has, we believe, actually embarked for 
 France, and landed at Boulogne, the scene of his 
 former foolish attempt. He declares, however, that he
 
 THE CHARTISTS IN 1348. 199 
 
 goes to France merely as a citizen, to tender his services 
 to his country." 
 
 The Correspondent of the Times, writing from Paris, 
 says : " All royal arms, or other emblems of royalty, 
 are taken down or defaced ; still there are people who 
 take it into their heads that the Count de Paris or the 
 Duke de Bordeaux have a chance ! Prince Louis 
 Napoleon's name begins to be mentioned, and I have 
 heard one cry of ' Vive PEmpereur !'" 
 
 The progress of Louis Napoleon towards the attain- 
 ment of supreme power is so well known as to need no 
 particular allusion here. Amid the splendours of the 
 Imperial Court amid that excess of power which the 
 once contemned and ridiculed exile now wields, his 
 former lodgings in King Street, and the many asso- 
 ciations connected with them, are, we dare say, not 
 entirely forgotten. It is well known that when he 
 returned to this country as an Emperor, to be greeted 
 with an ovation at every step of his progress, while the 
 Imperial cortege was passing through St. James's 
 Street, Louis Napoleon particularly directed the at- 
 tention of the Empress to the house he resided in as a 
 proscrit.* 
 
 THE CHAETISTS IN 1848. 
 
 THE Tenth of April 1848 is a noted day in our 
 political calendar, from its presenting a remarkable 
 instance of nipping in the bud apparent danger to the 
 peace of the country, by means at once constitutional 
 and reassuring public safety. It was on this day that 
 
 * From the Illustrated Times.
 
 200 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 the Chartists, as they were called, from developing 
 their proposed alterations in the representative system, 
 through "the People's Charter," made in the metropolis 
 a great demonstration of their numbers : thus hinting 
 at the physical force which they possessed, but pro- 
 bably without any serious design against the public 
 peace. On this day the Chartists met, about 25,000 
 in number, on Kennington Common, whence it had 
 been intended to march in procession to the House of 
 Commons with the Charter petition ; but the authori- 
 ties having intimated that the procession would be 
 prevented by force if attempted, it was abandoned. 
 Nevertheless, the assembling of the ^wasz-politicians 
 from the north, by marching through the streets to the 
 place of meeting, had an imposing effect. Great prepa- 
 rations were made to guard against any mischief: the 
 shops were shut in the principal thoroughfares ; bodies 
 of horse and foot police, assisted by masses of special 
 constables, were posted at the approaches to the 
 Thames bridges ; a large force of the regular troops 
 was stationed out of sight in convenient spots; two 
 regiments of the line were kept ready at Millbank 
 Penitentiary ; 1,200 infantry at Deptford, and 20 pieces 
 of heavy field-ordnance were ready at the Tower, to 
 be transported by hired steamers to any required point. 
 The meeting was held, but was brought to " a ridi- 
 culous issue, by the unity and resolution of the metro- 
 polis, backed by the judicious measures of the Govern- 
 ment, and the masterly military precautions of the 
 Duke of Wellington." 
 
 " On our famous Tenth of April, his peculiar genius 
 was exerted to the unspeakable advantage of peace 
 and order. So effective were his preparations that the
 
 APSLEY HOUSE. 201 
 
 most serious insurrection could have been successfully 
 encountered, and yet every source of provocation and 
 alarm was removed by the dispositions adopted. No 
 military display was anywhere to be seen. The troops 
 and the cannon were all at their posts, but neither 
 shako nor bayonet was visible ; and for all that met 
 the eye, it might have been concluded that the peace 
 of the metropolis was still entrusted to the keeping of 
 its own citizens. As an instance, however, of his fore- 
 cast against the worst, on this memorable occasion, it 
 may be observed that orders were given to the com- 
 missioned officers of artillery to take the discharge of 
 their pieces on themselves. The Duke knew that a 
 cannon-shot too much or too little might change the 
 aspect of the day ; and he provided by these remark- 
 able instructions, both for imperturbable forbearance as 
 long as forbearance was best, and for unshrinking 
 action when the moment for action came." Memoir; 
 Times, Sept. 15-16, 1852. 
 
 The Chartists' Petition was presented to the House 
 of Commons on the above day, signed, it was stated, 
 by 5,706,000 persons. 
 
 APSLEY HOUSE. 
 
 THIS noble mansion, at Hyde Park Corner, Piccadilly 
 " No. 1, London," as the foreigner called it is erected 
 partly upon a piece of ground given by George the 
 Second to an old soldier named Allen, whom the king 
 recognised as having served in the battle of Dettingen. 
 Upon this spot, Allen built a tenement in place of the 
 apple-stall, which, by sufferance, had been kept thereon
 
 202 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 by his wife ; and before the erection of Apsley House, 
 in 1784, this piece of ground was sold, for a consider- 
 able sum, by Allen's descendants, to Apsley, Lord 
 Bathurst. The maternal apple-stall is shown in a 
 print, dated 1766. 
 
 More celebrated, however, is the mansion as the 
 town-house of Arthur, Duke of Wellington ; and for 
 the priceless testimonials which it contains to the true 
 greatness of that illustrious man. Yet, during the un- 
 healthy excitement, when the Reform Bill agitators 
 clung to the wheels of the Lord Mayor's state-coach, as 
 it rolled into the courtyard of St. James's, Apsley 
 House was attacked by lawless brawlers, who threw 
 stones at the very gallery in which was celebrated 
 every year the victory which saved England and Eu- 
 rope ! It was to protect his mansion, after the windows 
 had been broken by the mob, that the Duke had 
 affixed the bullet-proof iron Venetian blinds, which 
 were not removed during his Grace's life-time: 
 " They shall remain where they are," was his remark, 
 " as a monument of the gullibility of a mob, and the 
 worthlessness of that sort of popularity for which they 
 who give it can assign no good reason. I don't blame 
 the men that broke my windows. They only did what 
 they were instigated to do by others who ought to 
 have known better. But if anyone be disposed to 
 grow giddy with popular applause, I think a glance 
 towards these iron shutters will soon sober him." 
 
 Lastly, on fine afternoons, the sun casts the shadow 
 of the Duke's equestrian statue full upon Apsley 
 House, and the sombre image may be seen, gliding 
 spirit-like, over the front.
 
 lemarhabie
 
 205 
 
 TEIAL BY BATTLE. 
 
 IN the year 1818 an appeal was made to the Court of 
 King's Bench to award this ancient mode of trial in a 
 case of murder. The body of one Mary Ashford was 
 found drowned, with marks of dreadful ill-treatment 
 upon it, and Abraham Thornton was committed to 
 take his trial for the murder. The grand jury found a 
 true bill, but, after a long and patient trial, the petty 
 jury returned a verdict of " not guilty." The country 
 were much divided on the subject; and the evidence 
 was very contradictory on the trial, especially as to 
 time and distance. Mr. Justice Holroyd, who tried the 
 case, was satisfied with the verdict. The poor murdered 
 girl's relations preferred an appeal, which involved a 
 solemn tender of trial by battle. It would be useless 
 to dwell on the arguments used by the counsel on 
 either side : the court divided in favour of the prisoner's 
 claim to trial by wager of battle, and the challenge was 
 formally given by throwing down a glove upon the 
 floor of the court ; but the combat did not take place, 
 and the prisoner escaped from the punishment which, 
 even on his own admission of guilt, he had so fully 
 incurred. A wretched outcast, shunned and dreaded 
 by all who knew him, a few months after his libera- 
 tion, Thornton attempted to proceed to America : the 
 sailors of the vessel in which he was about to take his 
 passage refused to proceed to sea with such a character
 
 206 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 on board ; but, disguising himself, he succeeded in a 
 subsequent attempt to procure a passage, and thus 
 relieved this country of his presence. In conse- 
 quence of the above revival of this barbarous practice, 
 a Bill was brought in by the then Attorney-general, 
 and was passed into a law, by which Wager of Battle 
 and all similar proceedings were abolished altogether. 
 
 Mr. Hewitt, in his able work on Ancient Arms and 
 Armour, says : " In the thirteenth century we first 
 obtain a pictorial representation of the legal duel or 
 wager of battle rude it is true, but curiously con- 
 firming the testimony that has come down to us of the 
 arms and apparel of the champions," on one of the 
 miscellaneous rolls in the Tower, of the time of 
 Henry III. The combatants are Walter Blowberne 
 and Haman le Stare, the latter being the vanquished 
 champion, and figuring a second time undergoing the 
 punishment incident to his defeat that is, hanging. 
 Both are armed with the quadrangular-bowed shield 
 and a baton headed with a double beak ; and are bare- 
 headed, with cropped hair in conformity with an ordi- 
 nance of the camp-fight. An example agreeing with 
 this description, with the exception of the square 
 shields appearing to be flat instead of bowed, occurs on 
 a tile-pavement found, in 1856, within the precincts of 
 Chertsey Abbey, Surrey. 
 
 The legal antiquaries were disappointed of the rare 
 spectacle of a judicial duel, by the voluntary abandon- 
 ment of the prosecution. A writer of the time ob- 
 served : " Should the duel take place, it will be indeed 
 a singular sight to behold the present venerable and 
 learned judges of the Court of King's Bench clothed 
 in their full costume, sitting all day long in the open
 
 THE FIELD OF FOETY FOOTSTEPS. 207 
 
 air in Tothill Fields, as the umpires of a match at 
 single stick. Nor will a less surprising spectacle be 
 furnished by the learned persons who are to appear as 
 the counsel of the combatants, and who, as soon as the 
 ring is formed, will have to accompany their clients 
 within the lists, and to stand, like so many seconds 
 and bottle-holders, beside a pair of bare-legged, bare- 
 armed, and bare-headed cudgellists." The subject, 
 ludicrous as it seemed, was one of considerable serious- 
 ness and importance. The reflection that in the nine- 
 teenth century a human life might be sacrificed to a 
 practice which might have been conceived too absurd, 
 impious, and cruel, to have outlived the dark ages, 
 could not be entertained without pain. In the follow- 
 ing year, however, this barbarous absurdity was nul- 
 lified by an Act (59 Geo. III. c. 46) abolishing all 
 criminal appeals and trial by battle in all cases, both 
 civil and criminal, and thus purifying the law of 
 England from a blot which time and civilisation had 
 strangely failed to wear away. 
 
 Dr. Luke Booker, of Dudley, wrote a kind of moral 
 drama on this occasion, which he entitled The Mys- 
 terious Murder. 
 
 THE FIELD OF FOBTY FOOTSTEPS. 
 
 IN the rear of Montague House, Bloomsbury, until 
 the present generation, the ground lay waste, and 
 being on the edge of the great town, presented a 
 ready arena for its idle and lawless dangerous classes. 
 It appears to have been originally called Long Fields, 
 and afterwards Southampton Fields. They were the
 
 208 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 resort of depraved persons, chiefly for fighting pitched 
 battles, especially on the Sabbath-day; such was the 
 state of the place up to 1800. 
 
 Montague House and Gardens occupied seven acres. 
 In the latter were encamped, in 1780, the troops 
 stationed to quell the Gordon Riots ; and a print of 
 the period shows the ground in the rear of the man- 
 sion laid out in grass-terraces, flower-borders, lawns, 
 and gravel-walks, where the gay world resorted on a 
 summer's evening. The back being open to the 
 fields extending to Lisson Grove and Paddington; 
 north, to Primrose Hill, Chalk Farm, Hampstead, and 
 Highgate ; and east, to Battle Bridge, Islington, St. 
 Pancras, &c. : the north side of Queen Square was 
 left open, that it might not impede the prospect. Dr. 
 Stukeley, many years rector of St. George's Church, 
 in his MS. diary, 1749, describes the then rural cha- 
 racter of Queen Square, and its neighbourhood. On 
 the side of Montague Gardens, next Bedford Square, 
 was a fine grove of lime-trees ; and the gardens of 
 Bedford House, which occupied the north side of the 
 present Bloomsbury Square, reached those of Montague 
 House. We can, therefore, understand how, a century 
 and a half since, coachmen were regaled with the per- 
 fume of the flower-beds of the gardens belonging to 
 the houses in Great Russell Street, which then enjoyed 
 " wholesome and pleasant air." Russell Square was not 
 built until 1804, although Baltimore House was erected 
 in 1763 ; and it appears to have been the only erection 
 since Strype's Survey to this period, with the excep- 
 tion of a chimney-sweeper's cottage, still further north, 
 and part of which is still to be seen in Rhodes's 
 Mews, Little Guildford-street. "In 1800, Bedford
 
 THE FIELD OF FORTY FOOTSTEPS. 209 
 
 House was demolished entirely ; which, with its offices 
 and gardens, had been the site where the noble family 
 of the Southamptons, and the illustrious Russells, had 
 resided during more than 200 years, almost isolated." 
 (Z)r. Rimbault.} 
 
 The Long Fields would seem to have been early 
 associated with superstitious notions ; for Aubrey tells 
 us that on St. John Baptist's Day, 1694, he saw, at 
 midnight, twenty-three young women in the parterre 
 behind Montague House, looking for a coal, under 
 the root of a plantain, to put under their heads that 
 night, " and they should dream who would be their 
 husbands." 
 
 But there is stronger evidence of this superstition in 
 association. A legendary story of the period of the Duke 
 of Monmouth's Rebellion relates a mortal conflict here 
 between two brothers, on account of a lady, who sat 
 by ; the combatants fought so ferociously as to destroy 
 each other ; after which, their footsteps, imprinted on 
 the ground in the vengeful struggle, were said to re- 
 main, with the indentations produced by their advancing 
 and receding ; nor would any grass or vegetation ever 
 grow over these forty footsteps. Miss Porter and her 
 sister, upon this fiction, founded their ingenions ro- 
 mance, Coming Out, or the field of Party Footsteps ; 
 but they entirely depart from the local tradition. At 
 the Tottenham Street Theatre was produced, many 
 years since, an effective melodrama, founded upon the 
 same incident, entitled the Field of Forty Footsteps. 
 
 Southey records this strange story in his Common- 
 place Book (Second Series, p. 21). After quoting a 
 letter from a friend, recommending him to " take a 
 view of those wonderful marks of the Lord's hatred to 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 duelling, called The Brothers' Steps" and describing 
 the locality, Southey thus narrates his own visit to the 
 spot : " We sought for near half an hour in vain. 
 We could find no steps at all within a quarter of a 
 mile, no, nor half a mile, of Montague House. We 
 were almost out of hope, when an honest man, who 
 was at work, directed us to the next ground, adjoining 
 to a pond. There we found what we sought, about 
 three-quarters of a mile north of Montague House, 
 and 500 yards east of Tottenham Court Road. The 
 steps are of the size of a large human foot, about three 
 inches deep, and lie nearly from north-east to south- 
 west. We counted only seventy-six ; but we were 
 not exact in counting. The place where one or both 
 the brothers are supposed to have fallen, is still bare 
 of grass. The labourer also showed us the bank where 
 (the tradition is) the wretched woman sat to see the 
 combat." Southey adds his full confidence in the 
 tradition of the indestructibility of the steps, even 
 after ploughing up, and of the conclusions to be drawn 
 from the circumstance. Notes and Queries, No. 12. 
 
 Joseph Moser, in one of his Commonplace Books, 
 gives this account of the footsteps, just previous to 
 their being built over: "June 16, 1800. Went into 
 the fields at the back of Montague House, and there 
 saw, for the last time, the forty footsteps ; the building 
 materials are there, ready to cover them from the 
 sight of man. I counted more than forty, but they 
 might be the footprints of the workmen." 
 
 We agree with Dr. Bimbault that this evidence 
 establishes the period of the final demolition of the 
 footsteps, and also confirms the legend that forty was 
 the original number.
 
 THE FAMOUS CHESHIRE WILL CASE. 211 
 
 In the third edition of A Book for a Rainy Day we 
 find this note upon the above mysterious spot : " Of 
 these steps there are many traditionary stories : the one 
 generally believed is, that two brothers were in love 
 with a lady, who would not declare a preference for 
 either, but coolly sat down upon a bank to witness the 
 termination of a duel, which proved fatal to both. The 
 bank, it is said, on which she sat, and the footmarks of 
 the brothers when passing the ground, never produced 
 grass again. The fact is, that these steps were so 
 often trodden that it was impossible for the grass to 
 grow. I have frequently passed over them : they were 
 in a field on the site of St. Martin's Chapel, or very 
 nearly so, and not on the spot as communicated to Miss 
 Porter, who has written an entertaining novel on the 
 subject." 
 
 THE FAMOUS CHESHIRE WILL CASE. 
 
 THE Will of Dame Lady Anne Fytton, widow, intro- 
 duces us to two families the Fittons of Gawsworth, 
 and the Gerards, their cousins. The son and heir of 
 Lady Anne was Sir Edward Fytton, whose sister 
 Penelope married Sir Charles Gerard. Fytton and 
 Gerard! what a coil the men who bore these names 
 made some years after Lady Anne was entombed at 
 Gawsworth ! Will upon will, lawsuit upon lawsuit 
 how fierce and foul the struggle, which began in one 
 century with forgery, and concluded in the next with 
 murder in Hyde Park ! 
 
 They who now pass through Gerrard Street and 
 Macclesfield Street, Soho, pass over ground where the 
 son and heir of Sir Charles Gerard, first baron of that 
 
 p 2
 
 212 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 name, and subsequently Earl of Macclesfield, kept a 
 gay house, surrounded by trim gardens, and a sulky 
 French wife, whom Charles the Second forbade con- 
 tinuing her attendance on the Queen, because the lady 
 let her tongue wag rudely against the Castlemaine 
 whom Gerard himself received at his mansion. That 
 lord, who gave up his commission of the Guards for a 
 douceur of 12,0007. from the king, who wanted the 
 dignity for Monmouth, was a fine dresser, a false friend, 
 a talebearer against Clarendon, and altogether not a 
 man to be esteemed. His uncle, Sir Edward Fytton of 
 Gawsworth, had died childless, entailing (it was said) 
 his estates on a kinsman, William Fytton, who was 
 succeeded in the possession by his son, Alexander. 
 To oust the latter, nineteen years after the death 
 of Sir Edward, and thirty after the entail had been 
 confirmed, as alleged, by a deed-poll, Gerard produced 
 a will which would be looked for in vain in the Eccle- 
 siastical Court at Chester. It purported to be that of 
 Gerard's uncle, Sir Edward, duly made in the nephew's 
 favour. Hot, fierce, anxious, was the litigation that 
 followed. Fytton pleaded the deed-poll, but Gerard 
 brought forward one Abraham Granger, who made 
 oath that he had forged the name of Sir Edward to 
 that deed under menace of mortal violence. There- 
 upon the judgment of the Chancellor was given in 
 favour of Gerard, and the deed declared to be a forgery. 
 Gerard, as soon as he heard the judgment pronounced, 
 " rose up," says Roger North, " and went straight 
 down to a shop in the Hall, took up his Lordship's 
 picture, paid his shilling, and, rolling up his purchase, 
 went off, desiring only an opportunity in a better 
 manner to resent such an ancient piece of justice."
 
 THE FAMOUS CHESHIRE WILL CASE. 213 
 
 Then ensued the strangest part of this will story. 
 Abraham Granger, impelled by remorse or liberal 
 payment, or desire to escape a great penalty by 
 acknowledging the smaller offence, appeared in court, 
 and confessed that he had perjured himself when he 
 swore that he had forged the name of Sir Edward. 
 The confession, however, was unsupported, and Fytton, 
 who was considered the responsible person, was con- 
 demned to fine, imprisonment, and pillory. But he was 
 not a man to be kept from greatness by having suffered 
 such degradation. Turning Romanist, he was patronised 
 by James the Second, who made him Chancellor of Ireland 
 and Baron Gawsworth, and who found in him a willing 
 and unscrupulous instrument in James's Irish Parlia- 
 ment, and active in passing Acts of Forfeiture of Protest- 
 ant property and Attainder of Protestant personages. 
 
 The family quarrel, as we have said, ended in blood. 
 Gerard died in 1693, Earl of Macclesfield. He was 
 succeeded by his two sons, Charles, who died childless, 
 in 1701, and Fytton Gerald, Earl of Macclesfield, who 
 died, without heirs, in 1702. Ten years later occurred, 
 in Hyde Park, that savage duel between Lord Mohun 
 and the Duke of Hamilton, in which both adversaries 
 were slain. Political animosities, which ran very high 
 at this period, gave a peculiar acrimonious character 
 to the transaction ; but the main cause was these 
 two men, Mohun and Hamilton, were husbands of co- 
 heiresses, who were disputing possession of the old 
 Cheshire estates of the Fyttons ; and they brought to 
 a sanguinary end the old Cheshire will case,* as will 
 be seen in our next narration. 
 
 * Abridged from the Athenaeum.
 
 214 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 DUEL BETWEEN THE DUKE OF HAMILTON AND LORD 
 MOHUN. 
 
 ON the 15th of November 1712, this most sanguinary 
 duel was fought near Prince's Lodge, in Hyde Park. 
 The spot was known as " the Ring," parts of which 
 can be distinctly traced on the east of the Ranger's 
 grounds. This memorable struggle is minutely de- 
 tailed in Transactions during the Reign of Queen Anne, 
 published at Edinburgh in 1790, by Charles Hamilton, 
 a member of the illustrious house of Hamilton, who 
 was led to take a peculiar interest in the subject. 
 
 It appears that upon the return of Lord Boling- 
 broke from Paris, Queen Anne was pleased to 
 nominate the Duke of Hamilton her Ambassador 
 Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to France. Pre- 
 viously to his departure upon this embassy, his grace 
 laboured to bring to issue a Chancery suit, which for 
 some time had lain depending between LordMohun and 
 him, whose respective consorts were nieces of the late 
 Earl of Macclesfield. By appointment the two lords 
 met on the morning of the 13th November, at the cham- 
 bers of Olebar, a Master in Chancery. Upon hearing 
 the evidence of Mr. Whitworth, formerly steward of 
 the Macclesfield family, an old man, whose memory 
 was much impaired by age, the Duke of Hamilton 
 said, " There is no truth or justice in him." Lord 
 Mohun replied, " I know Mr. Whitworth ; he is an 
 honest man, and has as much truth as your Grace." 
 This grating retort was not noticed by the Duke. 
 Having concluded their business, the parties separated
 
 DUKE OP HAMILTON AND LORD MOHUN. 215 
 
 without any heed or apparent animosity.* Lord 
 Mohun that night supped at the Queen's Arms Tavern, 
 in Pall Mall, in the company of General Macartney 
 and Colonel Churchill, both violent men, and declared 
 partisans of the Duke of Marlborough. From the 
 tavern Lord Mohun retired to his own house, in Marl- 
 borough Street. Early next morning, he paid a hur- 
 ried visit to General Macartney and Colonel Churchill, 
 who both occupied lodgings in the same house. At- 
 tended by these two gentlemen, his Lordship after- 
 wards proceeded to Marlborough House, where it is 
 but too plain that the offending party was prevailed 
 upon to send a challenge to the party offended. 
 
 Next day, General Macartney with Lord Mohun 
 went to the Rose Tavern: the Duke and his Lord- 
 ship retired into a private room, and ordered a bottle of 
 claret, a part of which they drank. The Duke joined 
 some company who expected him ; and the General 
 returned to my Lord Mohun, with whom he went away. 
 
 Lord Mohun that evening again supped at the Queen's 
 Arms in Pall Mall, with ttte Duke of Richmond, Sir 
 Robert Rich, Colonel Churchill, and a stranger. About 
 12 at night General Macartney came in, took Lord 
 Mohun to the Bagnio, in Long Acre, ordered a room 
 with two beds : here the General and his Lordship 
 slept; having desired to be called at six o'clock in the 
 morning. 
 
 Uncommon pains were taken to keep up Lord 
 Mohun's spirits, who seems to have had very little 
 
 * The above and all the following circumstances are extracted with 
 fidelity from different examinations taken before the Privy Council after 
 the Duke's miel catastrophe, and from the trial of General Macartney 
 in the Court of King's Bench.
 
 216 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 inclination for the duel. Yet he was not a novice at 
 fighting, for his Lordship had been engaged in other 
 broils. Swift says he had twice been tried for mur- 
 der. The Duke so little apprehended foul play being 
 designed against him, that at seven o'clock on the next 
 morning, 15th November, as he was dressing himself 
 to repair to the place appointed, he recollected that he 
 stood in need of a second. He despatched a footman 
 to Colonel Hamilton, in Charing Cross, with a request 
 that he would dress himself with expedition, as he 
 would speedily be with him. The Duke stepped into 
 his chariot, ordered the coachman to drive to the 
 Colonel's lodgings, went in, and hurried him away. 
 They drove on to Hyde Park, where the coachman 
 stopped. The Duke ordered him to drive on to 
 Kensington. Colonel Hamilton subsequently deposed 
 before the Privy Council : Coming to the lodge, we saw 
 a hackney-coach at a distance, on which his Grace said, 
 
 * There is somebody he must speak with ; ' but driving 
 up to it, and seeing nobody, he asked the coachman, 
 
 * Where are the gentlemSn you brought ? ' He an- 
 swered, ( A little before.' The l)uke and I got out 
 in the bottom, and walked over the Pond's Head, when 
 we saw Lord Mohun and General Macartney before 
 us. After this we all jumped over the ditch into the 
 nursery, and the Duke, turning to Macartney, told him, 
 
 * Sir, you are the cause of this, let the event be what 
 it will.' Macartney answered, * My lord, I had a 
 commission for it.' Then Lord Mohun said, * These 
 gentlemen shall have nothing to do here ; ' at which 
 Macartney replied, * We will have our share.' Then 
 said the Duke, ' There is my friend ; he will take his 
 share in my dance.' We all immediately drew. Ma-
 
 DUKE OF HAMILTON AND LORD MOHUN. 217 
 
 cartney made a full pass at me, which passing down 
 with great force, I wounded myself in the instep ; how- 
 ever, I took the opportunity to close with and disarm 
 Macartney ; which being done, I turned my head, and 
 seeing my Lord Mohun fall with the Duke upon him, I 
 flung down both the swords, and ran to the Duke's 
 assistance. As I was raising up my Lord Duke, I saw 
 Macartney make a push at his Grace. I immediately 
 looked whether he had wounded him, but perceiving no 
 blood, I took up my sword, expecting that Macartney 
 would attack me again, but he walked off. Just as he 
 was going, came up the keepers and others, to the 
 number of nine or ten, among the rest the Duke's 
 steward, who had brought with him a surgeon, who, on 
 opening his Grace's breast, soon discovered a wound on 
 the left side, which entered between the left shoulder 
 and pap, and went slantingly down through the midriif 
 into his belly. 
 
 " The surgeons, who afterwards opened the body, at 
 the same time confirmed this circumstance. Let any 
 person at all acquainted with the fencing attitudes 
 determine whether such a wound could have been given 
 by the opposed adversary in the act of fighting, or 
 whether while lying transfixed, extended on his back, 
 he could have thrust his sword into his opponent's 
 bosom in the manner above described, particularly 
 when it is considered that the Duke had only acciden- 
 tally slipped down upon the wet grass.* 
 
 " John Reynolds, of Price's Lodge, further deposed 
 
 * Lest it should be surmised that he might have held his sword in 
 the left hand, it should here be mentioned that in running Lord Mohun 
 through the body his Grace had received a wound in the right arm, 
 which evinces that the right hand was his sword hand.
 
 218 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 that he was within 30 or 40 yards from the lords when 
 they fell ; that my Lord Mohun fell into the ditch 
 upon his back, and the Duke of Hamilton leaning over 
 him. That the two seconds ran into them, and imme- 
 diately himself, who demanded the seconds' swords, 
 which they gave him ; but that he was forced to wrest 
 the Duke's sword out of his hand. That he assisted in 
 lifting up the Duke, who was lying on his face, and in 
 supporting him while he walked about 30 yards, when 
 he said he could walk no farther." 
 
 There is another version of this sanguinary affair in 
 a letter from Macartney, who had fled to the Conti- 
 nent, written to a friend of his in town. This represents 
 Lord Mohun striving to prevent the duel, for which pur- 
 pose, on his behalf, Macartney waited upon the Duke 
 to accommodate the matter ; for which purpose also, his 
 Grace had sent messengers in quest of Macartney. 
 It was then proposed that the parties should meet 
 that night at the Rose Tavern, in Covent Garden. 
 Macartney and Lord Mohun went together, and there 
 found the Duke of Hamilton alone, and (says Macart- 
 ney), " his whole dress was changed from a long wig 
 and velvet clothes I had left him in, to a riding wig and 
 stuff coat, without either star or ribbon, only a St. 
 Andrew's cross and an old white cloak." " You see, 
 sir," said my Lord Duke, smiling, " that I am come 
 en cavalier." " I see it, indeed, my lord," said I ; " but 
 I hope it is on some other gallant occasion, no way 
 relating to our last discourse." His Grace replied, 
 " No, faith 'tis for the business you know of, for le mis 
 prest-a-tout." " My lord," said I, " I am come here 
 by your Grace's commands, not without hopes that, 
 discoursing with your Grace and your friend, things
 
 DUKE OF HAMILTON AND LORD MOHTJN. 219 
 
 might be better understood, and, perhaps, settled to 
 both your satisfactions." " My friend is here," said 
 my Lord Duke ; and, going to the door, called very 
 loudly, " Jack, come in." Immediately enters Colonel 
 Hamilton in a red coat with gold buttons ; and the 
 Duke, presenting him to me, said, " Sir, here is the 
 gentleman who is to entertain you." Then, turning 
 to Colonel Hamilton, says, " Do you hear, Jack ? 
 Lord Mohun and I have an affair to decide which no 
 one is to know of but yourself and Mr. Macartney." 
 " With all my heart," says Colonel Hamilton ; " Mr. 
 Macartney and I know one another very well." There 
 being wine upon the table, I drank to him Duke 
 Hamilton's health ; he pledged it, and his Grace drank 
 to me ; on which I filled another glass and said, " My 
 lord, let me drink to a happy conclusion of this affair." 
 " With all my heart," said the Duke. 
 
 No time of meeting was then arranged, and Macartney 
 left the Duke and Colonel Hamilton together. Ma- 
 cartney declared that till Hamilton came into the room, 
 he had not lost hopes of an accommodation ; but the 
 Duke presenting to Macartney, for an antagonist, a 
 gentleman who had a long prejudice to him, for being 
 made major over his head in the Scotch Greys, besides 
 a latter difference which happened in Scotland, this 
 unhappy rencontre made him incapable of further pro- 
 posals. 
 
 Macartney thus relates the struggle : " Immediately 
 both lords drew, and I can give little account of their 
 action, being at the same instant engaged with Colonel 
 Hamilton, with whom, after some parrying, I closed 
 in ; and getting his sword from him with my left hand, 
 he caught hold of mine with his right hand just below
 
 220 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 the hilt. ' Sir,' said I, e struggle not, for I have your 
 sword.' ' Sir,' said he, * I have a grip of yours ; ' 
 ( Quit it, then,' said I, ' and don't force me to run you 
 through the back, but let's haste to save them.' I saw 
 the lords then struggle and fall together, their ground 
 being much changed in the action. While I was yet 
 uttering the words I mentioned last to Colonel Hamil- 
 ton, the keeper came up and found us two in this pos- 
 ture, standing upon our legs close struggling, his 
 sword in my left hand, free over his right shoulder, 
 and my sword in my right hand, he pulling at the 
 blade with both his. One of the keepers took our two 
 swords, and I think another ran at the same instant 
 to the lords, crying out, * What a deal of mischief is 
 done here ! Would to God we had come sooner I You 
 gentlemen are such strange creatures !' As we stepped 
 to the lords, as I think not above four yards from us, 
 Lord Mohun was not altogether on his back, but in a 
 manner between lying and sitting, bending forward to 
 Duke Hamilton, of whose sword he laid a hold with 
 his left hand. Duke Hamilton was on his knees, 
 leaning to his left almost across Lord Mohun, and 
 holding Lord Mohun's sword also fast with his left 
 hand, both striving, but neither able, to disengage 
 himself from t'other. One of the keepers, with Colonel 
 Hamilton, first lifted the Duke, while with another I 
 endeavoured the same service to my Lord Mohun, 
 who immediately said to me, ( I believe I am killed, 
 for I have several wounds in my belly.' * Good God 
 forbid,' said I, and turning him off his wounded side 
 and belly, strove in vain to give him relief. I saw the 
 Duke, supported by the colonel and another, walk 
 some yards, but staggering, which I imputed to a
 
 DUKE OF HAMILTON AND LORD MOHUN. 221 
 
 great gash I saw in his leg, which I thought had cut 
 the sinews. I continued my care about my Lord 
 Mohun till hopes were passed, and then sent his body 
 home in the same coach that brought us." Swift, in 
 his Journal to Stella, Nov. 15, 1712, says: "The 
 Duke was helped into the Cake House by the Ring in 
 Hyde Park, and died on the grass before he could 
 reach the house." 
 
 This duel assumed a high political colour. The 
 Duke was regarded as the head of the Jacobite party, 
 and Lord Mohun a zealous Whig. The Duke's ap- 
 pointment as Ambassador alarmed the Whigs, on the 
 supposition that this nobleman favoured the Pretender. 
 Macartney disappeared, and escaped in disguise to 
 the Continent. Colonel Hamilton declared upon oath, 
 before the Privy Council, that when the principals 
 engaged, he and Macartney followed their example ; 
 that Macartney was immediately disarmed', but the 
 colonel, seeing the Duke fall upon his antagonist, threw 
 away the swords, and ran to lift him up ; that while he 
 was employed in raising the Duke, Macartney, having 
 taken up one of the swords, stabbed his Grace over 
 Hamilton's shoulder, and retired immediately. A pro- 
 clamation was issued, promising a reward of 500/. to 
 those who should apprehend or discover Macartney ; 
 and the Duchess of Hamilton offered 3007. for the 
 same purpose. The Tories exclaimed against this 
 event as a party duel. They treated Macartney as a 
 cowardly assassin ; and affirmed that the Whigs had 
 posted others of the same stamp all round Hyde Park 
 to murder the Duke of Hamilton in case he had 
 triumphed over his antagonist, and escaped the 
 treachery of Macartney. The Whigs, on the other
 
 222 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 hand, affirmed that it was altogether a private quarrel ; 
 that Macartney was entirely innocent of the perfidy 
 laid to his charge ; and that he afterwards submitted to 
 a fair trial, at which Colonel Hamilton prevaricated in 
 giving his evidence, and was contradicted by the testimony 
 of divers persons who saw the combat at a distance. 
 These details are from Smollett's Continuation of 
 Hume's History of England. 
 
 Macartney surrendered, and taking his trial in the 
 Court of King's Bench, the deposition of Colonel 
 Hamilton was contradicted by two park-keepers : the 
 General was acquitted of the murder, and found guilty 
 of manslaughter only ; was restored to his rank in the 
 army, and gratified with the command of a regiment. 
 
 Meanwhile, General Macartney having found favour 
 at the Court of Hanover, was afterwards employed by 
 George I. in bringing over the 6,000 Dutch troops, at 
 the breaking out of the Preston rebellion ; soon after 
 which, in accordance with the ribald taste of the day, 
 the tragic duel was turned into the following 
 
 BALLAD OF DUKE HAMILTON. 
 
 " Duke Hamilton was as fine a Lord, 
 
 Fal lal de ral de re, 0, 
 As ever Scotland could afford ; 
 
 Fal lal de ral de re, 0. 
 For personal valour few there were 
 Could with his Grace the Duke compare : 
 How he was murder' d you shall hear. 
 
 Fal lal de ral de re, 0. 
 
 Lord Mohun and he fell out of late, 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 About some trifles of the State ; 
 
 Fal, &c.
 
 DUKE OF HAMILTON AND LORD MOHUN. 223 
 
 So high the words between them rose, 
 As very soon it turn'd to blows : 
 How it will end there's nobody knows. 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 Lord Mohun, who never man could face, 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 Unless in some dark and private place, 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 (Twice.) 
 He sent a challenge unto his Grace. 
 
 Fal,&c. 
 
 Betimes in the morning his Grace arose, 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 And straight to Colonel Hamilton goes ; 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 Your company, sir, I must importune, 
 Betimes in the morning, and very soon, 
 To meet General M'Cartney and Lord Mohun. 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 The Colonel replies, I am your slave, 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 To follow your Grace unto the grave. 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 Then they took coach without delay, 
 And to Hyde Park by break of day 
 ! there began the bloody fray. 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 No sooner out of coach they light, 
 
 Fal, fec. 
 But Mohun and M'Cartney came in sight 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 (Twice.) 
 
 ! then began the bloody fight. 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 Then bespoke the brave Lord Mohun, 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 1 think your Grace is here full soon ; 
 
 Fal, &c.
 
 224 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 I wish your Grace would put it bye, 
 Since blood for blood for vengeance cry, 
 And loath I am this day to die. 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 Then bespoke the Duke his Grace, 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 Saying, Go find out a proper place ; 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 My Lord, to me the challenge you sent 
 To see it out is my intent, 
 Till my last drop of blood be spent. 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 Then these heroes' swords were drawn, 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 And so lustily they both fell on ; 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 Duke Hamilton thrust with all his might 
 Unto Lord Mohun thro' his body quite, 
 And sent him to eternal night. 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 By this time his Grace had got a wound, 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 Then on the grass, as he sat down, 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 Base M'Cartney, as we find, 
 Cowardly, as he was inclined, 
 Stabb'd his Grace the Duke behind. 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 This done, the traitor ran away, 
 
 Fal,&c. 
 And was not heard of for many a day ; 
 
 Fal, &c. 
 
 In Christian land, let's hear no more 
 Of duelling and human gore. 
 The story 's told I say no more 
 
 But fal lal de ral de re, 0."
 
 225 
 
 DUEL BETWEEN LORD BYRON AND MR. CHAWORTH. 
 
 EVERY reader of the " Life of Lord Byron " will re- 
 collect that the granduncle of the illustrious Poet, in 
 the year 1765, took his trial in the House of Peers, for 
 killing in a duel, or rather scuffle, his relation and 
 neighbour, Mr. Chaworth, " who was run through the 
 body, and died next day." 
 
 Lord Byron and Mr. Chaworth were neighbours in 
 the country, and they were accustomed to meet, with 
 other gentlemen of Nottinghamshire, at the Star and 
 Garter Tavern, in Pall Mall, once a month, what was 
 called the Nottinghamshire Club. 
 
 The meeting at which arose the unfortunate dispute 
 that produced the duel, was on the 26th of January, 
 1765, at which were present Mr. John Hewet, who sat 
 as chairman ; the Hon. Thomas Willoughby ; Frede- 
 rick Montagu, John Sherwin, Francis Molineux, 
 Esqrs., and Lord Byron; William Chaworth, George 
 Donston, and Charles Mellish, junior, Esq. ; and Sir 
 Robert Burdett; who were all the company present. 
 The usual hour was soon after four, and the rule of 
 the Club was to have the bill and a bottle brought in 
 at seven. Till this hour all was jollity and good 
 humour; but Mr. Hewet, happening to start some 
 conversation about the best method of preserving 
 game, setting the laws for that purpose out of the 
 question, Mr. Chaworth and Lord Byro*h were of dif- 
 ferent opinions; Mr. Chaworth insisting on severity 
 against poachers and unqualified persons; and Lord 
 Byron declaring that the way to have most game was 
 to take no care of it at all. Mr. Chaworth, in confirma- 
 tion of what he had said, insisted that Sir Charles 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 Sedley and himself had more game on five acres than 
 Lord Byron had on all his manors. Lord Byron, in 
 reply, proposed a bet of 100 guineas, but this was not 
 laid. Mr. Chaworth then said, that were it not for Sir 
 Charles Sedley's care, and his own, Lord Byron would 
 not have a hare on his estate ; and his Lordship asking 
 with a smile, what Sir Charles Sedley's manors were, 
 was answered by Mr. Chaworth, Nuttall and Bulwell. 
 Lord Byron did not dispute Nuttall, but added, 
 Bulwell was his ; on which Mr. Chaworth, with some 
 heat, replied: " If you want information as to Sir Charles 
 Sedley's manors, he lives at Mr. Cooper's, in Dean 
 Street, and, I doubt not, will be ready to give you 
 satisfaction ; and, as to myself, your Lordship knows 
 where to find me, in Berkeley Row." 
 
 The subject was now dropped ; and little was said, 
 when Mr. Chaworth called to settle the reckoning, in 
 doing which the master of the tavern observed him to be 
 flurried. In a few minutes, Mr. Chaworth having paid 
 the bill, went out, and was followed by Mr. Donston, 
 
 whom Mr. C asked if he thought he had been short 
 
 in what he had said ; to which Mr. D replied, " No ; 
 
 he had gone rather too far upon so trifling an occasion, 
 but did not believe that Lord Byron or the company 
 would think any more of it." Mr. Donston then re- 
 turned to the club-room. Lord Byron now came out, 
 and found Mr. Chaworth still on the stairs : it is doubt- 
 ful whether Lord B .called upon Mr. C , or 
 
 Mr. C called upon Lord B ; but both went 
 
 down to the first landing-place having dined upon 
 the second floor and both called a waiter to show an 
 empty room, which the waiter did, having first opened 
 the door, and placed a small tallow-candle, which he
 
 LORD BYRON AND CHAWORTH. 227 
 
 had in his hand, on the table ; he then retired, when 
 the gentlemen entered, and shut the door after them. 
 
 In a few minutes, the affair was decided ; the bell 
 was rung, but by whom is uncertain : the waiter went 
 up, and perceiving what had happened, ran down stairs 
 frightened, told his master of the catastrophe, when he 
 ran up to the room, and found the two antagonists 
 standing close together: Mr. Cha worth had his sword 
 in his left hand, and Lord Byron his sword in his right ; 
 
 Lord B 's left hand was round Mr. Chaworth, and 
 
 Mr. C 's right hand was round Lord B 's neck, 
 
 and over his shoulder. Mr. C. desired Mr. Fynmore, 
 the landlord, to take his sword, and Lord B. delivered 
 up his sword at the same moment : a surgeon was sent 
 for, and came immediately. In the meantime, six of 
 the company entered the room ; when Mr. Chaworth 
 said that " he could not live many hours ; that he for- 
 gave Lord Byron, and hoped the world would; that 
 the affair had passed in the dark, only a small tallow- 
 candle burning in the room ; that Lord Byron asked 
 him, if he addressed the observation on the game to Sir 
 Charles Sedley, or to him ? to which he replied, ' if 
 you have anything to say, we had better shut the door ; ' 
 that while he was doing this, Lord Byron bid him 
 draw, and in turning he saw his Lordship's sword half 
 drawn, on which he whipped out his own sword, and 
 made the first pass ; that the sword being through my 
 Lord's waistcoat, he thought that he had killed him ; 
 and, asking whether he was not mortally wounded, 
 Lord Byron, while he was speaking, shortened his 
 sword, and stabbed him in the belly." When Mr. 
 Hawkins, the surgeon, arrived, he found Mr. Chaworth 
 sitting by the fire, with the lower part of his waistcoat 
 
 Q2
 
 228 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 open, his shirt bloody, and his hand upon his belly. 
 He inquired if he was in immediate danger, and being 
 answered in the affirmative, he desired his uncle, 
 Mr. Levinz, might be sent for. In the meantime, he 
 stated to Mr. Hawkins, that Lord Byron and he 
 (Mr. C ) entered the room together ; that his Lord- 
 ship said something of the dispute, on which he, Mr. 
 
 C , fastened the door, and turning round, perceived 
 
 his Lordship with his sword either drawn or nearly so ; 
 on which he instantly drew his own, and made a thrust 
 at him, which he thought had wounded or killed him ; 
 that then perceiving his Lordship shorten his sword to 
 return the thrust, he thought to have parried it with 
 his left hand, at which he looked twice, imagining that 
 he had cut it in the attempt ; that he felt the sword 
 enter his body, and go deep through his back ; that 
 he struggled, and being the stronger man, disarmed his 
 Lordship, and expressed his apprehension that he had 
 mortally wounded him ; that Lord Byron replied by 
 saying something to the like effect ; adding that he 
 hoped now he would allow him to be as brave a man as 
 any in the kingdom. Mr. Hawkins adds, that pained 
 and distressed as Mr. Chaworth then was, and under 
 the immediate danger of death, he repeated what he 
 had heard he had declared to his friends before, that 
 he had rather be in his present situation, than live 
 under the misfortune of having killed another person. 
 
 After a little while, Mr. Chaworth seemed to grow 
 stronger, and was removed to his own house : additional 
 medical advice arrived, but no relief could be given 
 him : he continued sensible till his death. Mr. Levinz, 
 his uncle, now arrived with an attorney, to whom Mr. 
 Chaworth gave very sensible and distinct instructions
 
 LORD BYRON AND CHAWORTH. 229 
 
 for making his will. While this was being done, Mr. 
 Chaworth described to his uncle the catastrophe, as he 
 had related it to Mr. Hawkins, lamenting his own folly 
 in fighting in the dark, an expression that conveyed no 
 imputation on Lord Byron ; and implied no more than 
 that by fighting with a dim light, he had given up the 
 advantage of his own superiority in swordsmanship, 
 and had been led into the mistake that he was in the 
 breast of his Lordship, when he was but entangled in 
 his waistcoat ; for, under that mistake he certainly was, 
 when Lord Byron shortened his sword, and ran him 
 through the body : he added to Mr. Levinz, that he 
 died as a man of honour, and expressed satisfaction that 
 he was in his present situation, rather than in that of 
 having the life of any man to answer for. The will 
 was now executed, and the attorney, Mr. Partington, 
 committed to writing the last words Mr. Chaworth was 
 heard to say. This writing was handed to Mr. Levinz, 
 and gave rise to a report that a paper was written by 
 the deceased, and sealed up, not to be opened till the 
 time that Lord Byron should be tried ; but no paper 
 was written by Mr. Chaworth, and that written by 
 Mr. Partington was as follows : " Sunday morning, the 
 27th of January, about three of the clock, Mr. Chaworth 
 said, that my Lord's sword was half-drawn, and that he, 
 knowing the man, immediately, or as quick as he could, 
 whipped out his sword, and had the first thrust ; that 
 then my Lord wounded him, and he disarmed my Lord, 
 who then said, l By G d, I have as much courage as 
 any man in England. ' ' 
 
 Lord Byron was committed to the Tower, and was 
 tried before the House of Peers, in Westminster Hall, 
 on the 16th and 17th of April 1765. The prisoner
 
 230 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 was brought to the bar by the deputy-governor of the 
 Tower, having the axe carried before him by the gen- 
 tleman gaoler, who stood with it on the left hand of 
 the prisoner, with the edge turned from him. Lord 
 Byron's defence was reduced by him into writing, and 
 read by the clerk. The Peers present, including the 
 High Steward, declared Lord Byron, on their honour, 
 to be not guilty of murder, but of manslaughter ; with 
 the exception of four Peers, who found him not guilty 
 generally. On this verdict being given, Lord Byron 
 was called upon to say why judgment of manslaughter 
 should not be pronounced upon him. His Lordship 
 immediately claimed the benefit of the 1st Edward VI. 
 cap. 12, a statute, by which, whenever a Peer was con- 
 victed of any felony for which a commoner might have 
 Benefit of Clergy, such Peer on praying the benefit of 
 that Act was always to be discharged without burning 
 in the hand, or any penal consequence whatever. The 
 claim of Lord Byron being accordingly allowed, he 
 was forthwith discharged on payment of his fees. This 
 singular privilege was supposed to be abrogated by the 
 7 & 8 Geo. IV. cap. 28, s. 6, which abolished Benefit 
 of Clergy; but some doubt arising on the subject, it 
 was positively put an end to by the 4 & 5 Viet. cap. 22. 
 (Celebrated Trials connected with the Aristocracy. By 
 Mr. Serjeant Burke.) 
 
 Mr. Chaworth was the descendant of one of the 
 oldest houses in England, a branch of which obtained 
 an Irish peerage. His grandniece, the eventual heiress 
 of the family, was Mary Chaworth, the object of the 
 early unrequited love of Lord Byron, the poet. Sin- 
 gularly enough, there was the same degree of relation- 
 ship between that nobleman and the Lord Byron who
 
 THE DUKE OP YORK AND COLONEL LENOX. 231 
 
 killed Mr. Chaworth, as existed between the latter un- 
 fortunate gentleman and Miss Chaworth. 
 
 Lord Byron survived the above trial thirty-three 
 years, and dying in 1798, leaving no surviving issue, 
 the title devolved on his grandnephew, the Poet, who, 
 in a letter, thus refers to the fatal rencontre : " As to 
 the Lord Byron who killed Mr. Chaworth in a duel, 
 so far from retiring from the world, he made the tour 
 of Europe, and was appointed Master of the Stag- 
 hounds, after that event ; and did not give up society 
 until his son had offended him by marrying in a manner 
 contrary to his duty. So far from feeling any remorse 
 for having killed Mr. Chaworth, who was a ' spadassin,' 
 and celebrated for his quarrelsome disposition, he 
 always kept the sword which he used on that occasion 
 in his bedchamber, and there it still was when he 
 died." 
 
 DUEL BETWEEN THE DUKE OF YOKK AND 
 COLONEL LENOX. 
 
 IN the year 1789, the Duke of York said, or was re- 
 ported to have said, that Colonel Lenox (afterwards Duke 
 of Richmond), of the Coldstream Guards, had submitted 
 to language at D'Aubigny's Club, to which no gentle- 
 man ought to submit; and on the Colonel's requesting to 
 be informed to what language His Royal Highness al- 
 luded, the Duke replied by ordering the Colonel to his 
 post. After parade, the conversation was renewed in the 
 orderly room. The Duke declined to give his authority 
 for the alleged words at D'Aubigny's, but expressed his 
 readiness to answer for what he had said, observing 
 that he wished to derive no protection from his rank :
 
 232 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 when not on duty, he wore a brown coat, and hoped 
 that Colonel Lenox would consider him merely an 
 officer of the regiment. To which the Colonel replied 
 that he could not consider His Royal Highness as any 
 other than the son of his King. Colonel Lenox then 
 addressed a circular to the members of the Club, and 
 failing to receive the required information, again ap- 
 plied to His Royal Highness to withdraw the offensive 
 words, or afford the means of verifying them. 
 
 On a renewed refusal of explanation, a hostile message 
 was delivered, and the parties met at Wimbledon Com- 
 mon ; His Royal Highness attended by Lord Rawdon, 
 and Colonel Lenox by the Earl of Winchilsea. The 
 ground was measured at twelve paces : Lenox fired 
 first, and the ball grazed His Royal Highness' side 
 curl ; the Duke of York did not fire. Lord Rawdon 
 then interfered, and said that he thought enough had 
 been done. Lenox observed that His Royal Highness 
 had not fired. Lord Rawdon said it was not the 
 Duke's intention to fire ; His Royal Highness had 
 come out, upon Colonel Lenox's desire, to give him 
 satisfaction, and had no animosity against him. Lenox 
 pressed that the Duke should fire, which was declined, 
 with a repetition of the reason. Lord Winchilsea 
 then expressed his hope that the Duke of York would 
 have no objection to say, he considered Colonel Lenox 
 a man of honour and courage. The Duke replied that 
 he should only say that he had come out to give 
 Colonel Lenox satisfaction, and did not mean to fire 
 at him : if Colonel Lenox was not satisfied, he might 
 fire again. Lenox said, he could not possibly fire 
 again at the Duke, as His Royal Highness did not 
 mean to fire at him. On this, both parties left the 
 ground. The affair led to a prolonged discussion
 
 THE DUKE OP YORK AND COLONEL LENOX. 233 
 
 among the officers of the Coldstream Guards, who at 
 length passed a resolution that Colonel Lenox had 
 behaved with courage, but not (under very trying 
 circumstances) with judgment. 
 
 The Prince of Wales (George IV.), however, took up 
 the matter with a high hand, as an insult to his family. 
 The 4th of June, being the King's birthday, a State 
 ball was given at St. James's Palace, which came to an 
 abrupt conclusion, as thus described in a magazine of 
 the period : " There was but one dance, occasioned, it 
 is said, by the following circumstance: Colonel Lenox, 
 who had not danced a minuet, stood up with Lady 
 Catherine Barnard. The Prince of Wales did not see 
 this until he and his partner, the Princess Royal, came 
 to Colonel Lenox's place in the dance, when, struck 
 with the incongruity, he took the Princess' hand, just 
 as she was about to be turned by Colonel Lenox, and 
 led her to. the bottom of the dance. The Duke of York 
 and the Princess Augusta came next, and they turned 
 the Colonel without the least particularity or exception. 
 The Duke of Clarence, with the Princess Elizabeth, came 
 next, and His Royal Highness followed the example of 
 the Prince of Wales. The dance proceeded, however, 
 and Lenox and his partner danced down. When they 
 came to the Prince and Princess, His Royal Highness 
 took his sister, and led her to her chair by the Queen. 
 Her Majesty, addressing herself to the Prince of 
 Wales, said : * You seem heated, sir, and tired ! ' 'I 
 am heated and tired, madam,' said the Prince, 'not 
 with the dance, but with dancing in such company.' 
 * Then, sir,' said the Queen, ' it will be better for 
 me to withdraw, and put an end to the ball ! ' 'It 
 certainly will be so,' replied the Prince, ' for I never 
 will countenance insults given to my family, however
 
 234 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 they may be treated by others.' Accordingly, at the 
 end of the dance, Her Majesty and the princesses with- 
 drew, and the ball concluded." 
 
 A person named Swift wrote a pamphlet on the 
 affair, taking the Duke's side of the question. This 
 occasioned another duel, in which Swift was shot in 
 the body by Colonel Lenox. The wound, however, 
 was not mortal, for there is another pamphlet extant, 
 written by Swift on his own duel. 
 
 Colonel Lenox immediately after exchanged into the 
 35th Regiment, then quartered at Edinburgh, where 
 he became very popular ; it was suspected from his 
 quarrel with the Duke being attributed to a lurking 
 feeling of Jacobitism Lenox being a left-handed de- 
 scendant of the Stuart race. 
 
 " FIGHTING FITZGERALD." 
 
 THE records of Tyburn, or of Newgate, do not yield a 
 parallel to the worthlessness of the individual who, in 
 the last century, was infamously known as " Fighting 
 Fitzgerald." By birth and fortune a gentleman, by 
 profession a soldier, he possessed not a single attribute 
 of either character: in manners offensively low and 
 vulgar, in language vituperative ; in habits a gamester 
 and a brawler ; the most noted duellist on record, yet 
 a coward at heart was this ferocious impostor. 
 
 In the course of his wicked life, he fought upwards of 
 twenty duels, killing or wounding eighteen of his antago- 
 nists, and except a severe wound in the head, received in 
 his first rencontre, never meeting with a scratch. At one 
 period of his career, he came in collision with Captain 
 Scawen, of the Guards. From that gentleman having
 
 "FIGHTING FITZGERALD." 235 
 
 stigmatised his conduct, Fitzgerald determined to bully 
 him into an apology, and meeting the Captain at the 
 Cocoa-tree Tavern, he demanded in his usual swaggering 
 manner, whether Captain Scawen had ever dared to 
 take liberties with his name and character. " Liber- 
 ties, sir ! " was the response, " no liberties can be taken 
 with that which is already infamous." A meeting was 
 the consequence, the parties passing over to the Conti- 
 nent for the purpose, and they fought on the Austrian 
 territory, near Tournay. Fitzgerald fired first, and his 
 ball passed close under the Captain's chin. Scawen 
 then prepared to fire, but Fitzgerald anticipated the 
 intention, by firing his second pistol at his opponent, 
 but declaring to have done so by accident \ a cold- 
 blooded attempt at murder. Captain Scawen then 
 refused to fire, and the duel was put an end to by the 
 Captain apologising. 
 
 In Fitzgerald's final duel with Major Cunningham, 
 that officer insisted upon fighting with swords, when 
 the secret of long impunity and success was detected. 
 The Major having passed Fitzgerald's guard, and by a 
 powerful thrust, struck against the other's breast, the 
 weapon snapped, striking against a steel surface, when 
 Cunningham taxed his opponent with wearing armour, 
 and he was driven off the field. After this defeat, 
 Fitzgerald retired to his Irish property : he lived a 
 life of violence and outrage, and closed his career of 
 crime with the murder of two neighbouring gentlemen, 
 for which he was tried, convicted, and executed. Twice 
 the rope broke in the attempt to hang him ; and twice 
 he fell to the ground, supplicating for five minutes' 
 longer life. Such was the end of "Fighting Fitz- 
 gerald."
 
 236 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 PEIMROSE HILL. 
 
 PRIMROSE HILL has also been the scene of several 
 sanguinary duels, one of which took place on April 6, 
 1803, between Lieut.-Col. Montgomery and Captain 
 Macnamara, in consequence of a quarrel between them 
 in Hyde Park. They met the same evening: Capt. 
 M.'s ball entered the right side of Col. M.'s chest, and 
 passed through the heart. He instantly fell without 
 uttering a word, but rolled over two or three times, as 
 if in great agony, and groaned ; being carried into 
 Chalk Farm tavern, he expired in about five minutes. 
 Col. Montgomery's ball went through Capt. Macna- 
 mara, entering on the right side, just above the hip : it 
 passed through the left side, carrying part of the coat 
 and waistcoat in with it, and taking part of his leather 
 breeches and the hip-button away with it on the other 
 side. Capt- Macnamara was tried for Manslaughter at 
 the Old Bailey : he received an excellent character from 
 Lords Hood, Nelson, Hotham and Minto, and a great 
 number of highly respectable gentlemen : the jury 
 pronounced a verdict of Not Guilty. 
 
 Primrose Hill has been also called Green-Berry-Hill, 
 from the names of the three persons who were executed 
 for the assassination of Sir Edmond Berry Godfrey, 
 and who were said to have brought him hither after he 
 had been murdered at Somerset House. 
 
 LORD CAMELFORD, THE DUELLIST. 
 
 THE turbulent career of this eccentric peer, bruiser, and 
 duellist, presents several strange and amusing incidents. 
 
 of the famous Governor
 
 LORD CAMELFORD, THE DUELLIST. 237 
 
 Pitt, who acquired most of his ample fortune in India 
 by the purchase of " the Pitt diamond," which was 
 sold in Europe, with great profit, to the Duke of 
 Orleans, Regent of France. 
 
 Lord Camelford was born in 1775 ; and in spirit and 
 temper, when a boy, was violent and unmanageable. 
 He was bred to the Royal Navy, and accompanied 
 Captain Vancouver, in the ship Discovert/, where, 
 through his refractoriness and disobedience of orders, 
 he was treated with necessary severity of discipline. 
 On his return home, he challenged his captain, and 
 meeting him in Bond Street, was only prevented from 
 striking him by the interference of his brother. In 
 the public life of the metropolis, his pugnacity most 
 strangely displayed itself. On the night of April 2, 
 1799, during a riot at Drury Lane Theatre, Lord 
 Camelford savagely assaulted and wounded a gentle- 
 man, for which assault a jury of the Court of King's 
 Bench returned a verdict against him of 5007. Soon 
 after this affair he headed an attack upon four watchmen 
 in Cavendish Square, when, after an hour's conflict, 
 his Lordship and the other assailants were captured, 
 and, guarded by twenty armed watchmen, were conveyed 
 to the watch-house. In another freak of this kind, on 
 the night of a general illumination for Peace in 1801, 
 Lord Camelford would not suffer lights to be placed in 
 the windows of his apartments, at a grocer's in New 
 Bond Street. The mob assailed the house with a shower 
 of stones at the windows, when his Lordship sallied out, 
 and with a stout cudgel kept up a long conflict, until 
 he was overpowered by numbers, and retreated in a de- 
 plorable condition. His name had now become a terror. 
 Entering, one evening, the Prince of Wales's Coffee
 
 238 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 House in Conduit Street, he sat down to read the 
 newspapers. Soon after came in a conceited fop, who 
 seated himself opposite his Lordship, and desired the 
 waiter to bring a pint of Madeira, and a couple of wax 
 candles, and put them into the next box. He then 
 drew to himself Lord Camelford's candle, and besran 
 
 * O 
 
 to read. His Lordship glanced at him indignantly, 
 and then continued reading. The waiter announced the 
 fop's commands completed, when he lounged round 
 into the box, and began to read. Lord Camelford then, 
 mimicking the tone of the coxcomb, called for a pair 
 of snuffers, deliberately walked to his box, snuffed out 
 both candles, and his Lordship deliberately returned 
 to his seat. The coxcomb, boiling with rage, roared 
 out, " Waiter ! who is this fellow that dares thus to 
 insult a gentleman ? Who is he ? What is he ? What 
 do they call him ?" " Lord Camelford, sir," replied 
 the waiter. "Who? Lord Camelford !" returned the 
 fop, in a tone of voice scarcely audible, terror-struck at 
 his own impertinence " Lord Camelford ! What 
 have I to pay ? " On being told, he laid down the 
 money, and stole away without daring to taste his 
 Madeira. 
 
 James and Horace Smith relate that they happened 
 to be at the Royal Circus when " God save the King " 
 was called for, accompanied by a cry of " Stand up ! " 
 and " Hats off ! " An inebriated naval lieutenant, 
 perceiving a gentleman in an adjoining box slow to 
 obey the call, struck off his hat with his stick, ex- 
 claiming, " Take off your hat, sir ! " The other thus 
 assaulted proved to be, unluckily for the lieutenant, 
 Lord Camelford. A set-to in the lobby ,was the conse- 
 quence, where his Lordship quickly proved victorious.
 
 LORD CAMELFORD, THE DUELLIST. 239 
 
 " The devil is not so black as he is painted," said Mr. 
 James Smith to his brother ; " let us call upon Lord 
 Camelford, and tell him that we were witnesses of his 
 being assaulted." The visit was paid on the ensuing 
 morning, at Lord Camelford's lodgings, No. 148 New 
 Bond Street. Over the fire-place of the drawing-room 
 were ornaments strongly expressive of the pugnacity 
 of the peer. A long thick bludgeon lay horizontally 
 supported on two brass hooks. Above this was placed 
 one of lesser dimensions, until a pyramid of weapons 
 gradually arose, tapering to a horsewhip : 
 
 Thus, all below was strength, and all above was grace. 
 
 Lord Camelford received his visitors with great 
 civility, and thanked them warmly for the call ; adding 
 that their evidence would be material, it being his in- 
 tention to indict the lieutenant for an assault. " All I 
 can say in return is this," exclaimed the peer with great 
 cordiality, " If ever I see you engaged in a row, upon 
 my soul I'll stand by you." Messrs. Smith expressed 
 themselves thankful for so potent an ally. 
 
 Lord Camelford's irritable disposition, which had 
 involved him in numberless quarrels and disputes, at 
 length paved the way to his fatal catastrophe about 
 a fortnight after the scene at the Royal Circus. He 
 had, for some time, been acquainted with a Mrs. Sim- 
 mons, who had formerly lived under the protection of 
 Captain Best, a friend of his Lordship. An officious 
 person had represented to him, that Mr. Best had said 
 to this woman something scandalous of Lord Camelford. 
 This so incensed his Lordship, that on March 6th, 1804, 
 meeting with Best at the Prince of Wales's Coffee 
 House, he went up to him and said, loud enough to be
 
 240 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 heard by all who were present, " I find, sir, that you 
 have spoken of me in the most unwarrantable terms." 
 Captain Best replied, that he was quite unconscious of 
 having deserved such a charge. Lord Camelford re- 
 plied, that he was not ignorant of what he had said to 
 Mrs. Simmons, and declared him to be " a scoundrel, a 
 liar, and a ruffian." A challenge followed, and the 
 meeting was fixed for the next morning. During the 
 evening, the captain transmitted to Lord Camelford 
 the strongest assurances that the information he had re- 
 ceived was unfounded, and that, as he had acted under 
 a false impression, he should be satisfied if he would 
 retract the expressions he had made use of: but this 
 his Lordship refused to do. Captain Best then left the 
 coffee-house. A note was soon afterwards delivered to 
 his Lordship, which the people of the house suspected 
 to contain a challenge. Information was lodged at 
 Marlborough Street, but no steps were taken by the 
 police to prevent the meeting, until near two o'clock 
 the following morning, when officers were stationed at 
 Lord Camelford's door : it was then too late. 
 
 Lord Camelford had already left his lodgings, to 
 sleep at a tavern, so as to avoid the officers. Agreeably 
 to an appointment made by their seconds, his Lordship 
 and the captain met early in the morning, at a coffee- 
 house in Oxford Street, where Mr. Best made another 
 effort to prevail on Lord Camelford to retract the ex- 
 pressions he had used. To all remonstrance he re- 
 plied, " Best, this is child's play the thing must go 
 on." 
 
 Accordingly, his Lordship and Captain Best, on 
 horseback, took the road to Kensington, followed by a 
 post-chaise, in which were the two seconds. On their
 
 LORD CAMELFORD, THE DUELLIST. 241 
 
 arrival at the Horse and Groom, the parties dismounted, 
 and proceeded by the path to the fields behind Holland 
 House. The seconds measured the ground, and took 
 their stations at the distance of thirty paces twenty- 
 nine yards. Lord Camelford fired first, but without 
 effect. An interval of several seconds followed, and, 
 from the manner and attitude of Captain Best, the per- 
 sons who viewed the transaction at a distance, imagined 
 that he was asking whether his Lordship was satisfied. 
 Best then fired, and his Lordship fell at full length. 
 The seconds, together with the Captain, immediately 
 ran to his assistance, when he is said to have seized the 
 latter by the hand, and to have exclaimed, " Best, I 
 am a dead man ; you have killed me, but I freely for- 
 give you." The report of the pistols had alarmed some 
 men who were at work near the spot, when Captain Best 
 and his second thought it prudent to provide for their 
 own safety. One of Lord Holland's gardeners now ap- 
 proached, and called to his fellow-labourers to stop 
 them. On his arrival, Lord Camelford's second, who 
 had been supporting him as well as he was able, ran 
 for a surgeon, and Mr. Thompson, of Kensington, soon 
 after came to his assistance. His Lordship then asked 
 the man " why he had called out to stop the gentlemen, 
 and declared that he did not wish them to be stopped ; 
 that he himself was the aggressor, that he forgave the 
 gentleman who had shot him, and hoped God would 
 forgive him too." Meanwhile, a chair was procured, 
 and his Lordship was carried to Little Holland House, 
 where, after three days' suffering, he expired. 
 
 We have seen that Lord Camelford, in his heart, 
 acquitted Captain Best ; he acknowledged also, in confi- 
 dence to his second, that he himself was in the wrong ; 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 that Best was a man of honour ; that he could not prevail 
 on himself to retract words he had once used. The 
 reason of the obstinacy with which he rejected all ad- 
 vances towards a reconciliation was, that his Lordship 
 entertained an idea that his antagonist was the best 
 shot in England ; and to have made an apology would 
 have exposed his Lordship's courage to suspicion. 
 
 On the morning after his decease an inquest was 
 held on the body, and a verdict of wilful murder re- 
 turned against " Some person or persons unknown ;" 
 on which a bill of indictment was preferred against 
 Captain Best and his friend, which was ignored by the 
 grand jury. 
 
 A LITERARY DUEL. 
 
 IT was at the period when Fraser's Magazine was in 
 the zenith of its popularity, that its publisher got in- 
 volved in two unpleasant results a horse- whipping and 
 a duel. The Hon. Mr. Grantley Berkeley's narrative 
 stales that a lady conceived the idea of asking for his 
 assistance, though she knew him only by repute, in a deli- 
 cate difficulty, in which none of her own friends were able 
 to assist her ; and we learn that he did take up her quar- 
 rel, upon excellent grounds, and with very immediate 
 and considerable effect. The culprit in the case was 
 the well-known Dr. Maginn, who, having the lady in 
 his power, from his then influence as a literary critic, 
 was pressing upon her, as the price of averting his 
 hostility, a dishonourable compliance with desires which 
 were at once base and mercenary. Mr. Berkeley 
 boasts that he succeeded in taking Dr. Maginn's in- 
 tended prey out of his paws, though he was afterwards
 
 A LITERARY DUEL. 243 
 
 warned by Lady Blessington, who was subsequently 
 made cognizant of the circumstances, that Maginn 
 would watch for an opportunity of having his revenge. 
 The opportunity which came was the publication, some 
 time afterwards, of a novel by Mr. Grantley Berkeley, 
 which Dr. Maginn took the opportunity of criticizing 
 in Fraser's Magazine, not, however, with a fair criti- 
 cism, but with a malignant insinuation against Lady 
 Euston (the present Do wager- Duchess of Grafton, 
 and the cousin of the author), to whom he had very 
 naturally dedicated the work. It would have been rea- 
 sonable that any man, at whose lady relative a scan- 
 dalous insult was thus pointed, should feel a little 
 tingling of the blood in consequence ; and accord- 
 ingly Mr. Grantley Berkeley, accompanied by his 
 brother Craven, and armed with a stout horsewhip, 
 waited on Mr. Eraser, the publisher of the magazine, 
 to demand the name and address of the author of the 
 article in question. The author was Dr. Maginn, but, 
 as Mr. Eraser declined to name him, Mr. Berkeley 
 assumed that he might hold Mr. Eraser himself respon- 
 sible, and thereupon he hauled him out by the collar, 
 and administered a most severe chastisement. For the 
 moment the assault was treated as a police case, but it 
 was soon converted into the subject of a civil action ; 
 and in the meantime Dr. Maginn, though with no ex- 
 ceeding alacrity, threw himself in the way of Mr. 
 Berkeley, and arrangements were made for a Hostile 
 meeting. 
 
 In the duel which thereupon took place, neither com- 
 batant fought with his own pistols; though both of 
 them fought with Mr. Grantley Berkeley's choice gun- 
 powder, to his own extreme disgust. They fired three
 
 244 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 shots at each other, Mr. Berkeley aiming at his anta- 
 gonist's legs, but only succeeding in hitting the heel of 
 his boot and the hinge of his own brother Henry's 
 pistol-case on which it rested. We remember hearing 
 at the time that the latter, who had followed his brother 
 on horseback to the field, and was looking on from 
 behind the nearest hedge, was by no means gratified 
 by this damage to his property, and that his disgust at 
 this incident was almost the only sentiment he expressed 
 upon this occasion. At all events, no further damage 
 was done in the encounter, except what appears to 
 have been the dispersion of some cotton wadding, under 
 Dr. Maginn's shirt-front, by the third and last shot 
 from Mr. Grantley Berkeley's pistol. Mr. Fraser was 
 Dr. Maginn's second, and Major Fancourt was that of 
 Mr. Berkeley. Subsequent to this a counter-action 
 for libel was brought by Mr. Berkeley against Mr. 
 Fraser in the Exchequer, but the litigation on both 
 sides was compromised by the simple payment of Mr. 
 Fraser's doctor's bill. Mr. Henry Berkeley subse- 
 quently had a correspondence with Dr. Maginn on 
 another occasion, when he again assailed the honour of 
 the Berkeley family, in which, metaphorically, the 
 wadding flew out of the Doctor a second time ; while 
 the public result of the whole, according to the opinion 
 of the author and principal in the business, and, in- 
 deed, in that also of some other more reasonable people, 
 was to the effect that 'it put a wholesome restraint 
 upon the herd of libellers who, in the Age and Satirist 
 newspapers, and Fraser's Magazine, had for years been 
 recklessly trading upon scandals affecting families of 
 distinction.' Times' Review.
 
 245 
 
 A TEKKIBLE DUEL. 
 
 IN the reign of James I., when Duelling rose to a 
 fearful height, the following conflict occurred between 
 the Duke of B. and Lord B., concerning a certain 
 beautiful Countess of E. The Duke challenged the 
 Lord, and, contrary to usage, gave him the choice of 
 weapons, the challenger's privilege. They met the 
 next morning a cold, rainy, miserable morning ; time, 
 five o'clock ; place, the first tree behind the lodge in 
 Hyde Park. They stripped off their fine scarlet coats 
 trimmed with gold and silver lace the Duke excessively 
 indignant that they should examine his vest, so as to be 
 certain there was no unlawful protection underneath, 
 but the Lord, more accustomed to the formalities, sub- 
 mitting to the search coolly enough and then they 
 took their pistols, before taking to their swords ; ac- 
 cording to the fashion of the times. At the first fire 
 the Duke missed, but Lord B. hit his Grace near the 
 thumb ; at the second fire, the Duke hit the Lord. They 
 then drew their swords and rushed on each other. 
 After the first or second thrust Lord B. entangled his 
 foot in a tuft of grass, and fell ; but, supporting himself 
 with his sword hand, he sprung back, and thus avoided 
 a thrust made at his heart. The seconds then inter- 
 fered, and attempted to bring about a reconciliation ; 
 but the Duke who seems to have been the most fiery 
 throughout angrily ordered them back, threatening 
 to stab the first who again interfered. After much good 
 play and fine parrying they came to a " close lock, 
 which nothing but the key of the body could open." 
 Thus they stood, unable to strike a blow, each afraid 
 to give the other the smallest advantage, yet each
 
 246 KOMANCE OP LONDON. 
 
 struggling to free himself from his entanglement. At last, 
 by one wrench stronger than the others, they tore them- 
 selves away ; and at the same time both their swords 
 sprang out of their hands Lord B.'s six or seven yards 
 in the air. This accident, however, did not retard them 
 long ; they seized their weapons again and fought on. 
 The Lord was then wounded in the sword arm ; but 
 bearing back, and before the Duke had quite recovered 
 from his lunge, he ran him through the body. The blow 
 left the Lord unguarded ; and, with the sword through 
 him, the Duke cut and thrust at his antagonist, who had 
 only his naked hand wherewith to guard himself. After 
 his hand had been fearfully mangled with putting aside 
 his enemy's sword, the Lord was in his turn run through 
 one rib below the heart. Again the seconds inter- 
 fered ; again without success ; when the Lord, faint 
 from loss of blood, fell backward, and, in falling, drew 
 his sword out of the Duke's wound. " Recovering him- 
 self a little before he was quite down, he faltered for- 
 ward, and, falling with his thigh across his sword, 
 snapped it in the midst." The Duke then took his own 
 sword, broke it, and, sinking on the dead body of his 
 antagonist, sighed deeply, turned once, and died : the 
 cold, drizzling rain falling chill on the stiffening bodies, 
 and the dank grass.* 
 
 * Abridged from Chambers's Book of Days.
 
 249 
 
 HEKOES OF THE EOAD. 
 
 IN that curious record, Narcissus Luttrell's Diary, we 
 find some fearful pictures of the crimes of the people, 
 and the work of the public executioner the institution 
 which, since the days of Hubert de Burgh, had made 
 Tyburn memorable ground. There was no official in the 
 kingdom so actively employed in Luttrell's days as the 
 finisher of the law. Every month the Old Bailey judges 
 turned over to him a crowd of wretches, who were not 
 necessarily of the lowest classes, to be hung, burnt in 
 the hand, branded on the cheek, or to be whipped. 
 Occasionally, the judges gave this busy functionary a 
 woman to burn alive, for clipping the King's coin, 
 a crime in which parsons, baronets, bankers, barristers, 
 and beggars dabbled, in spite of the inevitable penalty 
 of hanging for male clippers, and of burning alive for 
 females. A gang of gentlemen clippers, dissatisfied 
 with the condition of the law, as it regarded them and 
 their offences, passed over to Flanders and commenced 
 clipping the Spanish King's coin. Whereupon they 
 were caught, and the chief of them were, according to 
 our diarist, " boyld to death," or, as he elsewhere de- 
 scribes it, " scalded alive." 
 
 Awful as were the executioner and his work, the 
 criminal delighted to exhibit his contempt for him. "A 
 highwayman (1690) lately condemned at the Sessions, 
 was going to be tied up by the hangman according to
 
 250 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 custom, but he knock't down the hangman in the face 
 of the court, and made very indecent reflections on the 
 court." Nay, at the very gallows, we witnessed this 
 incident: "The same day, six persons were executed 
 at Tyburn; some of them behaved themselves very 
 impudently, calling for sack, and drank King James's 
 health, and affronted the ordinary at the gallows, and 
 refused his assistance ; and bid the people return to 
 their obedience, and send for King James back." 
 While thieves and murderers at the gallows thus had 
 their own way, except in one trifle that of hanging 
 the streets were at the mercy of those not yet cap- 
 tured. " Most part of this winter (1690-91) have 
 been so many burglaries committed in this town and 
 the adjacent parts of it, and robberies of persons in the 
 evening, as they walk't the streets, of their hats, peri- 
 wigs, cloaks, swords, &c. &c., as was never known in 
 the memory of any man living." If an honest man 
 called a hackney-coach, to ride home, he was anything 
 but secure from being strangled. These vehicles were 
 hired as being convenient for assassinations. Clinch, 
 the physician, was made away with in one of them ; 
 and when the government resolved to put the hackney- 
 coach system under the regulation of commissioners, 
 the coachmen and their wives raised a riot. The first 
 found their bloody privileges annihilated, and the ladies 
 were horrified at the prospective loss of booty. 
 
 It was especially the murderers who were the jol- 
 liest at Tyburn. We read of one Paynes, who " had 
 killed five or six persons in a short time" (1694), and 
 he "kickt the ordinary out of the cart at Tyburn, 
 and pulled off his shoes, saying, hee'd contradict the 
 old proverb, and not dye in them." Kicked the ordi-
 
 HEROES OF THE ROAD. 251 
 
 nary out of the cart ! We should feel indescribable 
 regret at this insult on the reverend gentleman, were it 
 not for the circumstance that he probably deserved it. 
 The Newgate ordinary in those days was not much, if 
 at all, better than his flock. It was no uncommon 
 thing for a score of highwaymen together to be in 
 Newgate, and they oftener drank than prayed with the 
 ordinary, who preferred punch, as Fielding says, in his 
 Jonathan Wild, the rather that there is nothing said 
 against that liquor in Scripture ! Nothing escaped the 
 hands of the highwaymen, they even stole " the 
 King's pistolls during his stay at Petworth, in Sussex " 
 (1692). If any class was more active than the thieves, 
 it was that of the French privateers, one vessel of 
 which roving species " came up the river (1693), 
 intending to have seized the yacht that carried the 
 money down to pay the fleet, but was taken, a?id she 
 is now before Whitehall." 
 
 It was a narrow escape ! But no privateer, no ordi- 
 nary or extraordinary highwayman, equalled in the 
 pursuit of his peculiar industry the busy individual 
 who (April 27, 1692), "was this day convicted at 
 Session-house, for sacrilege, rape, burglary, murder, 
 and robbing on the highway ; all committed in twelve 
 hours' time." The father of iniquity himself could 
 hardly have surpassed this worthy son ; whose dex- 
 terity and. rapid style of performance appear to have 
 saved his neck, for Mr. Luttrell does not record his 
 execution. Not that very severe punishments were 
 not often inflicted, as in an entry for " Tuesday, 4th 
 July" (1693), which tells us that " one Cockburne, 
 a nonjuring person, is banished Scotland for ever."
 
 252 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 These details may appear insignificant, but they are 
 not so, in so far as they intimate much of the quality 
 and contents of LuttrelPs Brief Relation, scarcely 
 a page of which is without its crimes and criminals. 
 They reflect, too, with truthful gloominess the aspect 
 of the times, and we will not leave them without 
 adverting to a very celebrated personage, whose name 
 is sometimes taken to be a myth, though his office is 
 acknowledged to be a terrible reality. Under the 
 head of January 1685-6, we find it recorded that 
 "Jack Ketch, the hangman, for affronting the Sheriffs 
 of London, was committed to Bridewell, and is turned 
 out of his place, and one Rose, a butcher, put in." 
 This was ruin for John, and as good as an estate for the 
 butcher. But some men provoke fortune to desert 
 them, and Rose was one of such men. In the May of 
 the year above named, we read that " five men of 
 those condemned at the Sessions were executed at 
 Tyburn : one of them was one Pascha Rose, the new 
 hangman, so that now Ketch is restored to his place." ' 
 
 Under the reign of Queen Anne, too, we read that a 
 certain scoundrel named Harris, though one of the 
 Queen's guard, was also a noted highwayman, at the 
 head of a gang, and after much practice was brought 
 very near Tyburn ; " but," says Luttrell, " 'tis said 
 William Penn, who obtained the Queen's pardon for 
 Harris, condemned for robbing on the highway, has 
 also got a commission for him to be lieutenant of the 
 militia in Pennsylvania, to which plantation he is to be 
 transported." Nor was Harris's vocation ungentle- 
 manly, since gentlemen took to it, and were caught at 
 it, as we find by an entry in LuttrelPs diary to the 
 * From a paper in the Athenaum on Luttrell's work.
 
 CLAUDE DUVAL. 253 
 
 effect that, " Saturday, Sir Charles Burtern, barrt., 
 was committed for robbery on the highway, near St. 
 Alban's." 
 
 CLAUDE DUVAL 
 
 WAS a famous highwayman of the 17th century, 
 who made Holloway, between Islington and High- 
 gate, frequently the scene of his predatory exploits. 
 In Lower Holloway he was long kept in memory by 
 DuvaTs Lane, which, strangely enough, was previously 
 called Devil's Lane, and more anciently Tolentone Lane. 
 
 Macaulay, in his History of England, tells us that 
 Claude Duval " took to the road, became captain of a 
 formidable gang," and that it is related " how, at the 
 head of his troop, he stopped a lady's coach, in which 
 there was a booty of four hundred pounds ; how he 
 took only one hundred, and suffered the fair owner to 
 ransom the rest by dancing a coranto with him on the 
 heath." Mr. Frith has made this celebrated exploit the 
 subject of one of his wonderful pictures, which has been 
 engraved. 
 
 Duval's career was cut short : he was arrested at the 
 Hole-in-the-Wall, in Chandos Street, Covent Garden, 
 and was executed at Tyburn, January 21, 1669, in the 
 twenty-seventh year of his age ; and, after lying in state 
 at the Tangier Tavern, St. Giles's, was buried in the 
 middle aisle of St. Paul's Church, Covent Garden ; his 
 funeral was attended with flambeaux, and a numerous 
 train of mourners, " to the great grief of the women." 
 Within memory, Duval's Lane was so infested with high- 
 waymen, that few persons would venture to peep into it, 
 even in mid-day; in 1831 it was lighted with gas.
 
 254 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 JEMMY WHITNEY, THE HANDSOME HIGHWAYMAN, 
 
 THIS hero of his day (1692), while jauntily airing 
 himself in Bishopsgate Street, was attacked by the 
 police officials, one of whom he traversed with " a 
 bagonet," during a fight which the intrepid scoun- 
 drel sustained for an hour against the officers and a 
 mob. Subsequently, most of his gang were captured, 
 and among them were a livery stable-keeper, a gold- 
 smith, and a man-milliner ! The last must have been 
 an ambitious fellow, for " taking to the road " was looked 
 upon as rather a dignified pursuit ; and no less a person 
 than " Captain Blood, the son of him that stole the 
 crown," was said at this very period to be keeping up 
 his gentility by .stopping his Majesty's mails. Whitney, 
 popular as he was, had nothing of the Macheath in 
 him. He was no sooner in irons than he " offers to dis- 
 cover his accomplices, and those that give notice where 
 and when money is conveyed on the road in coaches 
 and waggons, if he may have his pardon." He is 
 compelled, however, to stand to his indictments ; and 
 though he is found guilty only on three out of fire, as 
 the penalty is death, the difference to him is not 
 material. He is confidently said to have " broke " 
 Newgate, but with " forty pounds weight of iron on his 
 legs." " He had his taylor," says Mr. Luttrell, " make 
 him a rich embroidered suit, with perug and hat, worth 
 100/. ; but the keeper refused to let him wear them, 
 because they would disguise him from being known." 
 After conviction he again offered to " peach," and plots 
 having been favourable to villains in times past, " 'tis 
 said he has been examined on a design to kill the King."
 
 DICK TURPIN. 255 
 
 Then we hear of him addressing letters to the heads of 
 Government ; and the rascal enters so circumstantially 
 into a conspiracy to slay the King in Windsor Forest, 
 that a reprieve reaches him, to enable him to reveal 
 everything. He is even carried in a sedan to White- 
 hall ! The wary fellow, however, stipulates that he 
 should have a free pardon before he fe makes his dis- 
 covery." The high contracting parties cannot agree, 
 and Whitney is made to oscillate between the gaol and 
 the gibbet. He is carried to Tyburn, and brought 
 back with the rope round his handsome neck. He 
 will, nevertheless, tell nothing but under previous full 
 pardon. A warrant is then issued to hang him " at 
 the Maypole in the Strand." This, however, is not 
 done ; but finally, the Government being convinced 
 that he has nothing to reveal, give him up to justice ; 
 and Mr. Luttrell compliments him by noticing him 
 under his Bagshot brevet-captaincy ; and tells us that 
 "Yesterday (Wednesday, 1st of February, 1693), 
 being the 1st instant, captn James Whitney, highway- 
 man, was executed at Porter's Block, near Cow Crosse, 
 in Smithfield ; he seemed to dye very penitent ; was 
 an hour and a halfe in the cart before turn'd off." 
 From the Athenceum paper on Luttrell's Diary. 
 
 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 THE great feat of Turpin's life was his ride from 
 London to York in twelve hours, mounted on his 
 bonny Black Bess, as told in the story-books, and 
 made by Mr. Harrison Ainsworth the startling episode 
 of his popular novel of Rookwood. This is all very 
 ingenious ; but it is doubted whether Turpin ever
 
 256 ROMANCE OF LOXDOX. 
 
 performed the journey at all. Lord Macaulay had no 
 faith in the story. He was dining one day at the 
 Marquis of Lansdowne's : the subject of Turpin's ride 
 was started, and the old story of the marvellous feat, 
 as generally told, was alluded to, when Macaulay as- 
 tonished the company by assuring them that the entire 
 tale from beginning to end was false; that it was 
 founded on a tradition at least 300 years old ; that, 
 like the same anecdote^ fathered on different men in 
 succeeding generations, it was only told of Turpin 
 because he succeeded the original hero in the public 
 taste ; and that, if any of the company chose to go with 
 him to his library, he would prove to them the truth of 
 what he had stated in " black and white," a favourite 
 phrase with Lord Macaulay.* 
 
 Turpin was long the terror of the North Road. Upon 
 a verdant plot of ground, opposite the Green Man, 
 Finchley, on the road to Barnet, was a large oak, 
 which had weathered some centuries, and was known 
 as " Turpin's Oak," from the notorious Dick having 
 often taken up his station behind this tree when he was 
 intent upon a freebooting excursion. Its closeness to 
 the high road rendered it a very desirable reconnoitring 
 spot for Turpin, as well as for highwaymen generally, 
 who a century and a quarter ago were continually rob- 
 bing the mails, as well as commercial travellers (bag- 
 men) proceeding to and fro between London and the 
 north of England. From time to time were taken out 
 of the bark of this oak pistol-balls which had been 
 discharged at the trunk to deter highwaymen, should 
 any have been at hand, from attacking the parties 
 travelling. Mr. Nuthall, the solicitor, was upon one 
 * J. C. Hotten, in Notes and Queries, 2nd S. ix.
 
 M'LEAN, THE FASHIONABLE HIGHWAYMAN. 257 
 
 occasion stopped in his carriage by two highwaymen, 
 who came from behind this oak, as he was proceeding 
 to his country-house at Monken-Hadley ; when Mr. 
 N., being armed with pistols, wounded one of the 
 thieves so severely, that he died of the effects. 
 
 Many years after the above encounter, as Mr. Nut- 
 hall was returning from Bath to the metropolis, he 
 was attacked by a highwayman on Hounslow Heath ; 
 who, on his demands not being complied with, fired into 
 the carriage. Mr. Nuthall returned the fire, and, it 
 was thought, wounded the man, as he rode off precipi- 
 tately. On arriving at the inn, Mr. N. wrote a de- 
 scription of the fellow to Sir John Fielding, but had 
 scarcely finished the letter when he expired. 
 
 Turpin was a gay gallant : Mrs. Fountain, a cele- 
 brated beauty of her day, and nearly related to Dean 
 Fountain, was once saluted by Turpin in Marylebone 
 Gardens. "Be not alarmed, madame," said the high- 
 wayman ; " you can now boast of having been kissed 
 by Turpin ;" and the hero of the road walked off un- 
 molested. Turpin was hanged at York in 1739. 
 
 M'LEAN, THE FASHIONABLE HIGHWAYMAN, 
 
 FIGURED in the first half of the last century, and is por- 
 trayed by Horace Walpole with exquisite humour. He 
 was robbed by M'Lean, in the winter of 1749, of which 
 Walpole gives this account: " One night in the beginning 
 of November 1749, as I was returning from Holland 
 House by moonlight, about ten o'clock, I was attacked 
 by two highwaymen in Hyde Park, and the pistol of one 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 of them going off accidentally, razed the skin under my 
 eye, left some marks of shot on my face, and stunned 
 me. The ball went through the top of the chariot, and 
 if I had sat an inch nearer to the left side, must have 
 gone through my head." (Short Notes.) One of these 
 highwaymen was M'Lean. He also robbed Lord 
 Eglinton, Sir Thomas Robinson of Vienna, Mrs. Tal- 
 bot, &c. He took an odd booty from the Scotch Earl, 
 a blunderbuss. 
 
 M'Lean's history is very particular; for he con- 
 fesses everything, and is so little of a hero that he 
 cries and begs, and, Walpole believes, if Lord Eglin- 
 ton had been in any luck, might have been robbed of 
 his own blunderbuss. His father was an Irish Dean ; 
 his brother was a Calvinist minister in great esteem at 
 the Hague. M'Lean himself was a grocer in Welbeck 
 Street, but losing a wife that he loved extremely, and 
 by whom he had one little girl, he quitted his business 
 with two hundred pounds in his pocket, which he soon 
 spent, and then took to the road with only one com- 
 panion, Plunket, a journeyman apothecary. 
 
 M'Lean was taken in the autumn of 1750, by 
 selling a laced waistcoat to a pawnbroker in Mon- 
 mouth Street, who happened to carry it to the very 
 man who had just sold the lace. M'Lean impeached 
 his companion, Plunket, but he was not taken. The 
 former had a lodging in St. James's Street over against 
 White's, and another at Chelsea; Plunket one in 
 Jermyn Street; and their faces were as well known 
 about St. James's as any gentleman who lived in that 
 quarter, and who perhaps went on the road too. 
 
 M'Lean had a quarrel at Putney Bowling-green, two 
 months before he was taken, with an officer, whom he
 
 M'LEAN, THE FASHIONABLE HIGHWAYMAN. 259 
 
 had challenged for disputing his rank; but the captain 
 declined, till M'Lean should produce a certificate of 
 his nobility, which he had just received. Walpole 
 says : " If he had escaped a month longer, he might 
 have heard of Mr. Chute's genealogic expertness, and 
 come hither to the College of Arms for a certificate. 
 There were a wardrobe of clothes, three-and-twenty 
 purses, and the celebrated blunderbuss, found at his 
 lodgings, besides a famous kept mistress. As I con- 
 clude he will suffer, I wish him no ill. I don't care to 
 have his idea, and am almost single in not having been 
 to see him. Lord Mountford, at the head of half White's, 
 went the first day ; his aunt was crying over him. As 
 soon as they were withdrawn, she said to him, knowing 
 they were of White's : * My dear, what did the Lords 
 say to you ? Have you ever been concerned with any 
 one of them? ' Was it not admirable? what a favourable 
 idea people must have of White's ! and what if White's 
 should not deserve a much better ? But the chief per- 
 sonages who have been to comfort and weep over the 
 fallen hero are Lady Caroline Petersham and Miss 
 Ashe ; I call them Polly and Lucy, and asked them if 
 he did not sing 
 
 ' Thus I stand like the Turk with his doxies around.' " 
 
 To this Mr. Cunningham adds: Gray has made M'Lean 
 immortal in his Long Story: 
 
 A sudden fit of ague shook him ; 
 He stood as mute as poor M'Lean. 
 
 See also Soame Jenyns in his poem of The Modern 
 Fine Lady, written this year : 
 
 She weeps if but a handsome thief is hung. 
 8 2
 
 260 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 To which he appends this note : " Some of the brightest 
 eyes were at this time in tears for one M'Lean, con- 
 demned for robbery on the highway." 
 
 Walpole, in his next letter, dated Sept. 1, writes : 
 " My friend M'Lean is still the fashion ; have not I 
 reason to call him my friend ? He says, if the pistol 
 had shot me, he had another for himself. Can I do less 
 than say I will be hanged if he is ? " Next, on Sept. 
 20 : " M'Lean is condemned, and will hang. I am 
 honourably mentioned in a Grub Street ballad for not 
 having contributed to his sentence. There are as many 
 prints and pamphlets about him as about the earth- 
 quake." 
 
 M'Lean was hung at Tyburn ; shortly after Wal- 
 pole writes, Oct. 18: "Robbing is the only thing 
 that goes on with any vivacity, though my friend 
 M'Lean is hanged. The first Sunday after his con- 
 demnation, three thousand people went to see him ; 
 he fainted away twice with the heat of his cell. You 
 can't conceive the ridiculous rage there is of going to 
 Newgate ; and the prints that are produced of the ma- 
 lefactors, and the memoirs of their lives and deaths, set 
 forth with as much parade as as Marshal Turenne's 
 we have no generals worth making a parallel." 
 
 Mr. John Taylor, long connected with the Sun news- 
 paper, describes M'Lean as a tall, showy, good-looking 
 man, and a frequent visitor at Button's coffee-house, on 
 the west side of Russell Street, Covent Garden.* 
 
 A Mr. Donaldson told Taylor that, observing M'Lean 
 paid particular attention to the barmaid of the coffee- 
 house, the daughter of the landlord, gave a hint to the 
 
 * Button's subsequently became a private house, and Mrs. Inchbald 
 lodged there.
 
 HIGHWAYMEN. 261 
 
 father of M'Lean's dubious character. The father cau- 
 tioned his daughter against the highwayman's addresses, 
 and imprudently told her by whose advice he put her on 
 her guard ; she as imprudently told M'Lean. The next 
 time Donaldson visited the coffee-room, and was sitting 
 in one of the boxes, M'Lean entered, and in a loud tone 
 said, " Mr. Donaldson, I wish to spake to you in a private 
 room." Mr. D. being unarmed, and naturally afraid of 
 being alone with such a man, said, in answer, that as 
 nothing could pass between them that he did not wish 
 the whole world to know, he begged leave to decline 
 the invitation. " Very well," said M'Lean, as he 
 left the room, " we shall meet again." A day or two 
 after, as Mr. Donaldson was walking near Richmond, 
 in the evening, he saw M'Lean on horseback ; but, 
 fortunately, at that moment, a gentleman's carriage 
 appeared in view, when M'Lean immediately turned 
 his horse towards the carriage, and Donaldson hurried 
 into the protection of Richmond as fast as he could. 
 But for the appearance of the carriage, which presented 
 better prey, it is probable that M'Lean would have 
 shot Mr. Donaldson immediately. 
 
 METROPOLITAN HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 THE highwayman was, in thieves' slang, called the 
 Toby-man, who, issuing forth from the purlieus of 
 Chick Lane, or Hatton Wall, in the guise of a well- 
 mounted cavalier, armed with pistols and couteau de 
 chasse, gallantly spurring his flashy bit of blood up 
 Holborn Hill, on his route to Hounslow, with his half- 
 cast military style and degage air, would give the town,
 
 262 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 and especially the female portion of it, assurance of an 
 accomplished and amiable cut-throat; and who, for a 
 time, took the air in this ostensible way with as much 
 impunity as nonchalance. He knew his term, and 
 could reckon when he would be wanted, for there 
 were watching him those who understood the crime- 
 market better than to put him up before he was worth 
 his price. Blood-money * was the tenure of his pro- 
 longed career: he had his day, and made the most of 
 it ; and if, through a vista of dashing exploits, not un- 
 graced by the smiles of the fair, perhaps including some 
 passages of gallantry and tenderness at Ranelagh, and 
 other resorts of fashion, he caught ever and anon uncom- 
 fortable glimpses of the gibbet, still he got inured to the 
 anticipation, and he had in reserve the final glory of 
 " dying game." And, when his time was up, it still was 
 something to be escorted to Newgate with as much state 
 as a nobleman committed for high treason ; and at his 
 trial to recognise from the dock many a member of 
 the Clubs, and fair frequenters of the assemblies with 
 whom he had gambled or gallanted during the time 
 which he carried it with a high hand, in spite of some- 
 thing stronger than a slight suspicion. At length, ripe 
 and sentenced, covered with profession and honours, 
 his last ride up Holborn resembled, indeed, a triumph 
 rather than aught disgraceful, or of a penitential charac- 
 ter. The knight of roads, apparelled in his best and 
 gayest, and wearing with jaunty gallantry the favours 
 and farewell tokens of more than one languishing and 
 
 * The division of the reward allowed for the capture of a noted 
 criminal was frequently arranged at a "Blood-feast." In Hogarth's 
 " Industry and Idleness," one of the scenes is a place significantly dis- 
 tinguished as " The Blood Bowl House," Chick Lane.
 
 HIGHWAYMEN. 263 
 
 love-sick fair, would defy, in appearance at least, the 
 heavy tolling of St. Sepulchre's bell, and the lugubri- 
 ous address of the sexton as he passed the churchyard. 
 Proceeding with undaunted air, the hero of a general 
 holiday, he would quaff St. Giles's bowl by the way, 
 and, arriving at Tyburn-tree, and having made his 
 speech and final bow, he would kick off his shoes, and 
 submit to be turned off with the grace of a courtier. 
 Thus died the hero of the High Toby, destined to be 
 celebrated by St. Giles's minstrelsy, and to furnish the 
 theme of many a stirring relation, when weary turn- 
 keys and thief-takers would sip their purl round the 
 fire at night, in Newgate lobby, and talk of the good 
 old times. 
 
 One of the most notorious heroes of the road was 
 John Rann, " Sixteen-string Jack," who was executed 
 at Tyburn, Nov. 30, 1774,for robbing the Rev. Dr. Bell, 
 chaplain to the Princess Amelia, in Gannesbury Lane. 
 Rann was a smart fellow, and a great favourite with a 
 certain description of ladies ; he had been coachman to 
 the Earl of Sandwich, when his Lordship resided in the 
 south-east corner-house of Bedford Row. It was pretty 
 generally reported that the sixteen strings worn by this 
 freebooter at his knees were in allusion to the number 
 of times he had been tried and acquitted. However, 
 he was caught at last; and J. T. Smith records his 
 being led, when a boy, by his father's playfellow, 
 Joseph Nollekens, to the end of John Street, to see 
 the notorious terror of the King's highway, Rann, on 
 his way to execution. The malefactor's coat was a 
 bright pea-green ; he had an immense nosegay, which 
 he had received from the hand of one of the frail sister- 
 hood, whose practice it was in those days to present
 
 264 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 flowers to their favourites from the steps of St. Sepul- 
 chre's Church, as the last token of what they called their 
 attachment to the condemned, whose worldly accounts 
 were generally brought to a close at Tyburn, in conse- 
 quence of their associating with abandoned characters. 
 Such is Mr. Smith's account of the procession of the 
 hero to Tyburn ; and Nollekens assured Smith had 
 his father-in-law, Mr. Justice Welsch, been high-con- 
 stable, they could have walked all the way to Tyburn 
 by the side of the cart. 
 
 Mr. Grantley Berkeley recounts the circumstances 
 under which Lord Berkeley shot a highwayman who 
 stopped him in 1774-5, and the recital of which he 
 heard from Lord Berkeley himself, this being very 
 different from the description in the Gentleman's 
 Magazine, and that published in the memoirs of Mr. 
 Berkeley's aunt, the Margravine of Anspach. Mr. 
 Berkeley hints further that no less a person than the 
 Lord Bishop Twysden of Raphoe was given to these 
 marauding enjoyments some twenty years previously 
 to the attack on his father, and that he was the Bishop 
 who was shot through the body on Hounslow Heath, 
 and for whom the inquiry was gently made in the 
 Gentleman's Magazine " Was this the Bishop who 
 was taken ill on Hounslow Heath and carried back to 
 his friend's house, where he died of an inflammation 
 of the bowels ? " This episcopal highwayman was the 
 father of the celebrated Lady Jersey, notorious for her 
 friendship with the Prince of Wales.* 
 
 Mr. Grantley Berkeley, in his Life and Recollec- 
 tions, tells a story of one Hawkes, commonly called 
 " The Flying Highwayman," who, in the disguise of 
 * Times' review.
 
 " THE FLYING HIGHWAYMAN." 265 
 
 a Quaker, at an inn, observed the movements of an un- 
 suspicious traveller, and the places on his person where 
 he disposed his valuables, &c. ; and who actually, while 
 this person's back was turned, removed the priming 
 from his pistols, and then at their next rencontre plun- 
 dered him conveniently and pleasantly of everything. 
 It appears that the highwayman himself was captured 
 shortly afterwards at a country inn by two adroit Bow 
 Street runners, who were themselves disguised as clod- 
 hoppers, and the manner in which they surprised him 
 makes a very telling story in Mr. Berkeley's interesting 
 work. There is a very curious supplement to the above 
 interesting narrative in the statement that the eccentric 
 Lord Coleraine paid a visit to " The Flying Highway- 
 man" when in Newgate, and offered him a handsome price 
 for his horse. The high-minded Hawkes responded 
 warmly, " Sir, I am as much obliged to you for your 
 proposal as for your visit. But," he added, in a tone 
 and with a manner which implied his increasing confi- 
 dence, " the mare won't suit you, perhaps, if you want 
 her for the road. It is not every man that can get her 
 up to a carriage ! " Lord Coleraine was so pleased 
 with this little trait of professional sympathy that he 
 advanced him 50Z. to effect his escape, but in this the 
 highwayman failed ; so he honourably returned the 
 money as of no use, and submitted to his fate. 
 
 A century ago, hanging was a punishment of daily 
 occurrence, and appears to have been looked upon as 
 one of the most natural occurrences in the world ; yet 
 highway robbery increased frightfully. Whole columns 
 in small print appear in the newspapers in the month 
 of March, signed by Fielding as head of the police 
 (the brother of the novelist), and containing a long list
 
 266 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 of robberies in the neighbourhood of the metropolis, 
 with descriptions of the perpetrators, and offers of re- 
 ward for their apprehension ; while Blackheath and its 
 neighbourhood had become so dangerous that the in- 
 habitants of Greenwich and the adjoining parishes 
 found it necessary to enter into an association, and to 
 contribute to a fund out of which they offered so much 
 a head, on a graduated scale, for mounted highway- 
 men, footpads, housebreakers, &c., taken alive or dead. 
 
 Sir John Fielding, the magistrate just named, in his 
 Description of London and Westminster, in 1775, says: 
 " Robberies on the highway in the neighbourhood of 
 London are not very uncommon ; these are usually com- 
 mitted early in the morning or in the dusk of the even- 
 ing ; and, as the times are known, the danger may be, 
 for the most part, avoided. But the highwaymen here 
 are civil, compared to those of other countries, do not 
 often use you with ill manners, have been frequently 
 known to return papers and curiosities with much 
 politeness, and never commit murder unless they are 
 hotly pursued, and find it difficult to escape. 
 
 " There are harboured in London a considerable 
 gang of rogues, who for ingenuity and dexterity ex- 
 ceed all in the world of their fraternity. These are the 
 pickpockets of the place, who have made their occupa- 
 tion a science, of which they are exquisite professors. 
 They look upon themselves as a sort of incorporated 
 body, and seem to have a regular correspondence 
 among themselves. For, as many of these are always 
 under confinement in the public prison, there is scarce 
 anything of extraordinary value lost, but what may, 
 upon proper application to them, be effectually re- 
 covered in a short time. The way to avoid injury
 
 HIGHWAYMEN. 267 
 
 from this industrious fraternity is to avoid crowds, to 
 leave your watch at home, and to carry no more money 
 in your pocket than will barely serve for the purpose 
 of the day." 
 
 Travelling on the New Road after nightfall seems 
 formerly to have been attended with some risk, as will 
 appear from such notices as the following appended to 
 the Sadler's Wells advertisements and bills of the per- 
 formances : " A horse-patrole will be sent in the New 
 Road at night, for the protection of the nobility and 
 gentry who go from the squares and that end of the 
 town : the road also towards the City will be properly 
 guarded." "June, 1783. Patroles, horse and foot, 
 are stationed from Sadler's Wells Gate, along the 
 New Road to Tottenham Court Turnpike, &c., between 
 the hours of eight and eleven." 
 
 In 1746, robberies were so frequent, and the thieves 
 so desperate, that the proprietor of Marylebone Gar- 
 dens was obliged to have a guard of soldiers to protect 
 the company to and from London, half a mile distance. 
 In 1794, when Mr. Lowe was lessee of Marylebone 
 Gardens, he oifered a reward of ten guineas for the 
 apprehension of any highwayman found on the road to 
 the Gardens. 
 
 Even in the town itself, highwaymen pursued their 
 game. Mr. Cunningham tells us that " the iron bars 
 of the two ends of Lansdowne Passage (a near cut from 
 Curzon Street to Hay Hill) were put up late in the 
 last century, in consequence of a mounted highway- 
 man, who had committed a robbery in Piccadilly, 
 having escaped from his pursuers through this narrow 
 passage by riding his horse up the steps. This anec- 
 dote was told by the late Thomas Grenville to Sir
 
 268 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 Frankland Lewis. It occurred while George Grenville 
 was minister, the robber passing his residence in Bol- 
 ton Street, full gallop." (Handbook of London, 2nd ed. 
 p. 281.) 
 
 Horace Walpole relates that late in September 1750, 
 as he was sitting in his own dining-room, on a Sunday 
 night, in Arlington Street, the clock had not struck 
 eleven, when he heard a loud cry of " Stop thief ! " A 
 highwayman had attacked a post-chaise in Piccadilly, 
 within 50 yards of Walpole's house: the fellow was 
 pursued, rode over the watchman, almost killed him, 
 and escaped. 
 
 In 1786 a period when robberies in capitals appear 
 to have been- a sort of fashion on January 7, half an 
 hour after eight, the mail from France was robbed in 
 Pall Mall yes, in the great thoroughfare of London, 
 and within call of the guard at the palace. The chaise 
 had stopped, the harness was cut, and the portmanteau 
 was taken out of the chaise itself. About Strawberry 
 Hill highway robberies were very frequent ; the parson 
 and his wife and servant were stopped by footpads, 
 just by Walpole's gate, and were not so fortunate as 
 the lady, who, in going to a party at a neighbour's, 
 was robbed of her purse of bad money, which she 
 always carried in anticipation of being plundered; 
 Walpole, her companion in the chaise, lost his purse of 
 nine guineas. 
 
 Near a century earlier a strange robbery was com- 
 mitted in Pall Mall. Dr. Sydenham, the celebrated 
 physician, lived in this street from 1658 until 1689, 
 when he died. Mr. Fox told Mr. Rogers that Syden- 
 ham was sitting in his window, looking on the Mall, 
 with a pipe in his mouth, and a silver tankard before
 
 HIGHWAYMEN AND FOOTPADS. 269 
 
 him, when a fellow made a snatch at the tankard, and 
 ran off with it. Nor was he overtaken, said Fox, 
 before he got among the bushes in Bond Street, and 
 there they lost him. 
 
 The great western road into London, crossing the 
 stream at Knightsbridge, was often nearly impassable 
 from its depth of mud. Wyat's men, in his rebellion 
 of 1554, having crossed the Thames at Kingston, en- 
 tered London by this approach, and were called " drag- 
 gletails," from the wretched plight they were in. The 
 badness of the road delayed their march so much that 
 it materially helped their discomfiture. It was no 
 better in 1736, when Lord Hervey, writing from 
 Kensington, complained that " the road between this 
 place and London is grown so infamously bad, that we 
 live here in the same solitude as we should do if cast on 
 a rock in the middle of the ocean ; and all the Lon- 
 doners tell us there is between them and us a great 
 impassable gulf of mud." Added to this was the 
 danger from highwaymen and footpads. " Even so 
 late as 1799," writes Mr. Davis, "it was necessary to 
 order a party of light horse to patrol every night from 
 Hyde Park Corner to Kensington; and it is within 
 the memory of many when pedestrians walked to and 
 from Kensington in bands sufficient to ensure mutual 
 protection, starting at known intervals, of which a bell 
 gave due warning."* But since 1830 all has changed. 
 However, it is not ten years since the hawthorn 
 hedges finally disappeared at the Gore, and the black- 
 bird and starling were heard. Snipe and woodcocks 
 are said to have been shot at Knightsbridge within 
 the memory of man. And we find Mrs. Anne Pitt, 
 * Memorials of Knightsbridge.
 
 270 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 sister of Lord Chatham, abandoning her house at 
 Knightsbridge, through its being desolate, lonely, and 
 unsafe. 
 
 In the Kensington register of burials there is an 
 entry telling of their terrible condition : " 29th No- 
 vember 1687. Thomas Ridge, of Portsmouth, who 
 was killed by thieves, almost at Knightsbridge." And 
 Lady Cowper, in her diary, October 1715, writes : 
 " I was at Kensington, where I intended to stay as 
 long as the camp was in Hyde Park, the roads being so 
 secure by it, that we might come from London at any 
 time in the night without danger, which I did very 
 often." Sixteen years before this (1699), Evelyn, in 
 his diary, complains of robberies here even while 
 coaches and travellers were passing. 
 
 That the innkeepers connived at this state of things 
 we have evidence in the Memoirs of Sheffield, Duke 
 of Buckingham, who, having quarrelled with the Earl 
 of Rochester, the wit, they agreed to fight on horse- 
 back, a way in England a little unusual, but Rochester 
 chose it. " Accordingly," says the Duke, " I and my 
 second lay by the night before at Knightsbridge pri- 
 vately, to avoid the being secured at London upon any 
 suspicion ; which yet we found ourselves more in danger 
 of there, because we had all the appearance of high- 
 waymen, that had a mind to be skulking in an old inn 
 for one night; but this, I suppose, the people of the 
 house were used to, and so took no notice of us, but 
 liked us the better" And, in the Rehearsal, we have 
 this allusion to the innkeepers' habits and characters : 
 " Smith : But pray, Mr. Bayes, is not this a little 
 difficult, that you were saying e'en now, to keep an 
 army thus concealed in Knightsbridge? Bayes: In
 
 HIGHWAYMEN AND FOOTPADS. 271 
 
 Knights-Bridge stay. Johnson: No, not if the inn- 
 keepers be his friends." 
 
 The audacity of the footpads on this road is attested 
 by the Gentleman's Magazine, April 1740, recording 
 that " the Bristol mail from London was robbed a 
 little beyond Knightsbridge by a man on foot, who 
 took the Bath and Bristol bags, and, mounting the post- 
 boy 's horse, rode off towards London." On the 1st of 
 July 1774, William Hawke was executed for a high- 
 way robbery here ; and two men were executed on the 
 30th of the ensuing November for a similar offence. 
 In the same year, December 27, Mr. Jackson, of the 
 Court of Requests at Westminster, was attacked at 
 Kensington Gore by four footpads : he shot one dead, 
 and the others decamped. Even so late as 1799, it 
 was necessary to order a party of light horse to patrol 
 every night from Hyde Park Corner to Kensington. 
 
 " The Half-way House," an inn midway between 
 Knightsbridge and Kensington, had long been a place 
 of ill-repute ; in the autumn of 1846 it was taken 
 down, at an expense of 3,500/., besides the purchase 
 of the fee ; near the site is the Prince of Wales's Gate, 
 Hyde Park. We find this place referred to in the 
 trial of a highwayman, who was sentenced to death 
 for a robbery in 1752. The principal witness deposed : 
 " The chaise to the Devizes having been robbed two 
 or three times, as I was informed, I was desired 
 to go in it, to see if I could take the thief, which I 
 did, on the 3rd of June, about half-an-hour after 
 one in the morning. I got into the post-chaise ; 
 the post-boy told me the place where he had been 
 stopped was near the Half-way House, between 
 Knightsbridge and Kensington. As we came near
 
 272 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 the house, the prisoner came to us on foot, and said, 
 * Driver, stop ! ' He held a pistol-tinderbox to the 
 chaise, and said : ' Your money, directly ; you must not 
 stay this minute, your money.' I took out a pistol 
 from my coat-pocket, and from my breeches-pocket a 
 five-shilling piece and a dollar. I held the pistol con- 
 cealed in one hand, and the money in the other. I 
 held the money pretty hard ; he said, ' Put it in my 
 hat.' I let him take the five-shilling piece out of my 
 hand ; as soon as he had taken it, I snapped my pistol 
 at him ; it did not go off ; he staggered back, and held 
 up his hands, and said, * Oh Lord ! Oh Lord ! ' I 
 jumped out of the chaise ; he ran away ; and I after 
 him, about 600 or 700 yards, and there took him. I 
 hit him a blow on the back ; he begged for mercy on 
 his knees ; I took his neckcloth off, and tied his hands 
 with it, and brought him back to the chaise ; then I 
 told the gentlemen in the chaise that was the errand I 
 came upon ; and wished them a good journey, and 
 brought the prisoner to London. Question by the 
 Prisoner : Ask him how he lives. Norton : I keep a 
 shop in Wych Street, and sometimes 1 take a thief." 
 The post-boy stated on the trial that he had told Norton, 
 if they did not meet the highwayman between Knights- 
 bridge and Kensington, they should not meet him at 
 all a proof of the frequency of these occurrences in 
 that neighbourhood. 
 
 Mr. Walker, the police magistrate, writing some 30 
 years ago (1835), gives this picture of the security of 
 persons in the metropolis ; although the general im- 
 pression is the reverse. " Considering the enormous, and 
 in many parts demoralised, population of London, it is 
 quite marvellous there should be so little personal in-
 
 HIGHWAYMEN. 273 
 
 security. I have been in the habit for many years of 
 going about all parts of town and the environs, at all 
 hours, without any precaution, and I never experienced 
 on any occasion the slightest molestation ; and I scarcely 
 ever met in society anyone whose actual experience 
 was different.* It was not so formerly, as the follow- 
 ing instances will serve to show. At Kennington, 
 within the memory of man, on Sunday evenings a bell 
 used to be rung at intervals, to muster the people re- 
 turning to town. As soon as a band was assembled, 
 sufficiently numerous to insure mutual protection, it 
 set off; and so on till all had passed. George IV. and 
 the late Duke of York, when very young, were stopped 
 one night in a hackney-coach, and robbed, on Hay 
 Hill, Berkeley Square. The Prince and a party, among 
 whom was old Colonel Lowther and General Hulse, 
 had been to a house of ill-repute in Berkeley Street. 
 They were returning on Hay Hill, when they were 
 stopped, and their money was demanded, by a man 
 who presented a pistol at them. Among them all they 
 could only muster half-a-crown. To cross Hounslow 
 Heath, or Finchley Common, now both inclosed, after 
 sunset was a service of great danger. Those who 
 ventured were always well armed, and some few 
 had even ball-proof cartridges. There is a house still 
 standing, I believe, on Finchley Common, which, in 
 those days, was the known place of rendezvous for 
 highwaymen. Happily, these things are now matters 
 of history. 
 
 * Sir Richard Phillips, in one of the editions of the Picture of London, 
 gives similar experience ; but, a few years before his death, Sir Richard 
 was robbed of his gold watch as he stood in New Palace Yard gazing 
 at the King in procession to open Parliament. 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 " I will add one more instance of change. A retired 
 hackney-coachman, giving an account of his life to a 
 friend of mine, stated that his principal gains had been 
 derived from cruising at late hours, in particular 
 quarters of the town, to pick up drunken gentlemen. 
 If they were able to tell their address, he conveyed 
 them straight home ; if not, he carried them to certain 
 taverns, where the custom was to secure their property 
 and put them to bed. In the morning he called to take 
 them home, and was generally handsomely rewarded. 
 He said there were other coachmen who pursued 
 the same course, and they all considered it their policy 
 to be strictly honest. The bell at Kennington and the 
 coachmen's cruises may be referred back a little more 
 than 70 years, and afford indisputable and consoling 
 proofs of improvement in security, wealth, and tem- 
 perance. I like to look on the bright side of things." 
 The romance of thievery has in a great measure 
 departed, though much of the reality is left in another 
 shape. The clumsy practice of criminal robbery has 
 dwindled, and has chiefly fallen into the hands of boys, 
 trained to their nefarious course by the fence, who 
 takes the lion's share of the spoil. This character has 
 been portrayed to the life by the author of Oliver 
 Twist, in the admirable impersonation of Fagin, whose 
 den is localised in Field Lane, which extended from the 
 foot of Holborn Hill, northward, parallel with the Fleet 
 Ditch: it was thus vividly painted in 1837 : 
 
 " Near to the spot on which Snow Hill and Holborn 
 meet, there opens, upon the right hand as you come 
 out of the City, a narrow and dismal alley leading to 
 Saffron Hill. In its filthy shops are exposed for sale 
 huge bunches of pocket-handkerchiefs of all sizes and
 
 FIELD LANE. 275 
 
 patterns for here reside the traders who purchase them 
 from pickpockets. Hundreds of these handkerchiefs 
 hang dangling from pegs outside the windows, or 
 flaunting from the door-posts ; and the shelves within 
 are piled with them. Confined as the limits of Field- 
 lane are, it has its barber, its coffee-shop, its beer-shop, 
 and its fried-fish warehouse. It is a commercial colony 
 of itself, the emporium of petty larceny, visited, at 
 early morning and setting-in of dusk, by silent mer- 
 chants, who traffic in dark back-parlours, and go as 
 strangely as they come. Here the clothesman, the 
 shoe-vamper, and the rag-merchant display their goods 
 as sign-boards to the petty thief; and stores of old iron 
 and bones, and heaps of mildewy fragments of woollen- 
 stuff and linen, rust and rot in the grimy cellars." * 
 
 It is curious to find the initiatory processes of picking 
 pockets, as taught by Fagin to Oliver Twist, practised 
 in the metropolis nearly three centuries ago. Stow 
 relates the case of " One Walton, a gentleman born, 
 and some time a merchant of good credit, but fallen by 
 time into decay. This man kept an alehouse at Smart's 
 Key, near Billingsgate, and after, for some misde- 
 meanour, put down, he reared up a new trade of life, 
 and in the same house he procured all the cutpurses 
 about the City to repair to his house. There was a 
 schoolhouse set up to teach young boys to cut purses. 
 Two devices were hung up: one was a pocket, and 
 another was a purse. The pocket had in it certain 
 counters, and was being hung with hawk's-bells, and 
 over the top did hang a little sacring bell. The purse 
 had silver in it. And he that could take out a counter 
 without any noise, was allowed to be a public Foyster ; 
 
 * Oliver Twist. By Charles Dickens. 
 T 2
 
 276 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 and he that could take a piece of silver out of the purse 
 without noise of any of the bells, was adjudged a ju- 
 dicial Nypper, according to their terms of art. A 
 Foyster was a pickpocket ; a Nypper was a pick-purse, 
 or cut-purse." 
 
 When the clearance was commenced a quarter of a 
 century ago for the new street from the foot of Holborn 
 Hill, in the direction of Clerkenwell, a nestling-place of 
 crime was disturbed in Field Lane, but much of the old 
 abomination remained in the alleys and other narrow 
 places at the back of Cowcross; whence the Fleet 
 Ditch was then open as far as Ray Street, Clerkenwell, 
 near the spot formerly known as Hockley-in-the-Hole. 
 This place, noted for its bear and bull baitings, and 
 gladiatorial exhibitions, from the time of Charles II., 
 is referred to in the Spectator ; likewise by Pope, Gay, 
 Fielding, and other authors of the last century. Among 
 other exhibitions with which the public were regaled, 
 a handbill, dated 1710, specifies the Baiting of a Mad 
 Ass; also, a Green Bull, probably his first introduction 
 to the pleasures of Hockley-in-the-Hole. Some of the 
 streets of this neighbourhood retain names significant 
 of early times. Brookhill, and Turnmill Street, convey 
 a reminiscence of the Turnmill Brook which ran down 
 here into the Fleet, and of the mill belonging to the 
 Knights Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem, which 
 was turned by its waters. Hard by, the Clerkenwell, 
 now represented by a small pump, was once the scene 
 of the performance of dramatic mysteries by the Wor- 
 shipful Company of the Parish Clerks of London. On 
 the eastern bank of the Fleet was Cowcross, so called 
 from a cross which formerly stood there ; and not far 
 from which, at the entrance to Chick Lane from Smith-
 
 CHICK LANE. 277 
 
 field, anciently stood the Gallows, denominated the 
 Elms, another significant boundary ; in addition to 
 which may be mentioned the Whipping Post, which 
 stood at the end of Bowling-green Lane, Clerkenwell ; 
 the Stocks and the Pillory were formerly situated in 
 Holborn, near the entrance to Ely Place. 
 
 On the demolition, in 1844, of Chick Lane, or West 
 Street, a great sensation was excited by certain dis- 
 coveries made in the old Red Lion public-house, formerly 
 a noted receptacle for thieves. Here were found trap- 
 doors, sliding panels, blind passages, and other provisions 
 for the evasion of pursuers ; a plank thrown across the 
 Fleet Ditch in the rear of the house being the mode of 
 escape to the opposite bank in case of hot pursuit. 
 Certain skeletons were also shown to visitors here as 
 having been found on the premises ; but it is now known 
 that these latter accessories had only been procured 
 in order to make up a show, to which rank and fashion 
 resorted with an avidity that almost rivalled the mar- 
 vellous performance of the Cock Lane Ghost.* 
 
 The extraordinary insecurity of London and its neigh- 
 bourhood a hundred years ago will be best understood 
 by the following notes of highway robberies at that 
 period : 
 
 Jan. 3. " Saturday last (Jan. 3), about ten in the evening, as a post- 
 chaise was coming to town between the turnpike and Tottenham Court 
 Road and the first mile-stone, with the Earl of March and George Augustus 
 Selwyn, Esq., a highwayman stopped the postillion, and swore he would 
 blow his brains out if he did not stop ; on which the Earl of March 
 jumped out of the chaise and fired a pistol, and the highwayman imme- 
 diately rode off." Lloyd's Evening Post, Jan. 7. 
 
 " Last Sunday night, a man was plundered by two footpads in Moor- 
 fields." Read's Weekly Journal. 
 
 Jan. 5. " On Monday "night" a gentleman going over Moorfields was 
 
 * Abridged from Mr. Wykeham Archer's Vestiges of Old London.
 
 278 ROMANCE Or LONDON. 
 
 attacked by two men and a woman, and was beaten and had his pockets 
 rifled." Lloyd's Evening Post. 
 
 Jan. 11. " Yesterday evening " a gentleman was robbed by a single 
 highwayman near Vauxhall turnpike. " fie is supposed to be the same 
 person that has committed several robberies for some days past round 
 that part of the country." Lloyd's Evening Post, Friday, Jan. 9. 
 
 " On Sunday evening, as Justice Hervey, of Islington, and his son were 
 coming in his chariot on the Paddington Eoad," they were attacked by 
 two highwaymen, who, however, were defeated in their design. It ap- 
 pears that the justice and his son carried pistols loaded, and that his 
 footman was armed with a carbine. Lloyd's Evening Post, Jan. 14. 
 
 " On Sunday night last," as Dr. Lewis, a physician of Kingston, in 
 Surrey, was returning in his post-chaise from London, he was stopped, 
 near Vauxhall, by two highwaymen, and robbed of eighteen guineas and 
 his gold watch. Ib. Jan. 16. 
 
 Jan. 12. On Monday night, a gentleman and his son were robbed by 
 footpads on their way from Blackheath to the Borough. " Their behaviour 
 was very civil, and they returned five shillings to bring them to town." 
 Lloyd's Evening Post, Jan. 14. 
 
 Jan. 13. " On Tuesday evening the Lord Viscount Gage was stopped 
 in a post chaise between Hounslow and Brentford, by a single highway- 
 man, who robbed him of his purse, and made off." Ib. Jan. 16. 
 
 Jan. 14. "Wednesday morning, about three o'clock, as a farmer was 
 coming with a load of hay to London, he was stopped and robbed the 
 other side of Shepherd's Bush by a single highwayman, who stripped him 
 so clean that he could not pay the turnpike, but was obliged to leave his 
 bridle as security for the money." Ib. Jan. 16. 
 
 Jan. 23 was the day after that of the nomination for the election for 
 the county of Surrey, held at Epsom. " This morning early, two gentle- 
 men returning from the general meeting held yesterday, at Epsom, were 
 robbed a little on this side that place," by three footpads ; " the villains 
 wished them joy of their electioneering." Ib. Jan. 23. 
 
 The operations of these depredators were no doubt 
 assisted by the neglect of the roads, and by the dark- 
 ness of the January nights. The London Chronicle, 
 in the earlier half of the month, informs us that, " It 
 was so very dark on Tuesday night last (January 6), 
 that seven coaches and post-chaises were overturned 
 between Greenwich and Dartford, and remained there 
 till Wednesday morning.
 
 es, Critws,
 
 281 
 
 ANCIENT CIVIL PUNISHMENTS. 
 
 IN the White Book, compiled by Richard Carpenter, 
 1419, in the Mayoralty of Richard Whittington, we 
 find these curious enactments. 
 
 Foreign merchants were not allowed to deal with 
 foreign merchants, or " merchant strangers," as they 
 were called ; and in an instance where this regulation 
 was infringed, the merchandise was forfeited. In the 
 same manner a foreigner forfeited meat which he had 
 sold after the curfew had been rung out at St. Martin's- 
 le-Grand. A merchant who had set a price upon his 
 own corn was sent to prison, and another was sentenced 
 to the pillory for offering to sell corn above the com- 
 mon selling price. A chaplain was committed to the 
 Tun (a round prison on Cornhill) for " being a night- 
 walker ; " a publican was sentenced to the thew (a sort 
 of pillory) for using a false quart ; certain bakers who 
 had holes in their tables, by means whereof (through 
 some contrivance unknown to us simple men of the 
 nineteenth century) they contrived to steal their neigh- 
 bours' dough, were condemned to the pillory ; one 
 woman was sent to the Tun for being out at night 
 after lawful hours, and another was sentenced to the 
 thew for being a " common scold ;" furs were forfeited 
 because they had new work with old ; a man was fined 
 half a mark for drawing a sword; and amongst a 
 number of punishments for deceptions, scandals, and
 
 282 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 evil-speaking, one person was adjudged imprisonment 
 for a year and a day, and the pillory once a quarter 
 for three hours, with a whetstone tied round his neck, 
 for lies that were disproved. 
 
 Amongst the punishments that most frequently occur 
 are the forfeitures, fines, imprisonments, and pillories 
 awarded for selling " putrid meat," " stinking fish," 
 birds that were not fit to be eaten, and bread with 
 pieces of iron in it, probably intended to increase its 
 weight. The arts of fraud were never practised more 
 dexterously, or over a larger surface, than by our vir- 
 tuous progenitors of the twelfth and thirteenth cen- 
 turies. There was scarcely a single craft in which 
 duplicities were not committed ; and the records teem 
 with illustrations of these delinquencies, some of them, 
 indeed, being unintelligible in the present day. We 
 hear, for example, of " false hats," " false bow-strings," 
 "false queeks" (a kind of chess-board), and "false 
 gloves, breeches, and pouches." Other swindles are 
 more comprehensible: such as hides imperfectly tanned; 
 plated latten sold for silver ; drinking measures with a 
 thick coat of pitch inserted in the bottom, to diminish 
 their capacity ; false dice ; and coal-sacks of deficient 
 size. In some cases the forfeited articles were burned ; 
 in others they were seized and detained ; and in many 
 instances the fraudulent dealers were personally 
 punished. Nor was the watchfulness of the City au- 
 thorities limited to the crimes of trade ; morals were 
 looked after with equal activity. Anybody who walked 
 out at unseasonable hours, or who bought or sold after 
 curfew, was at once pounced upon (unless he was lucky 
 enough to effect his escape through the favouring 
 darkness), and lodged in the round-house on Cornhill ;
 
 CAGE AND STOCKS AT LONDON BRIDGE. 283 
 
 cutpurses, who were adroit, numerous, and possessed 
 of unbounded audacity, were generally consigned to 
 the pillory ; and the same fate awaited any ingenious 
 vagrant who practised the " Art Magic." * 
 
 CAGE AND STOCKS AT LONDON BRIDGE. 
 
 WE do not find that in the days of Queen Mary, 
 London Bridge was made the scene of any of the 
 numerous Protestant martyrdoms, which have eter- 
 nally blotted her short but sanguinary reign. There 
 is, however, in Foxe's Martyrs, a short anecdote of a 
 curious incident in St. Magnus Church. Upon the 
 death of Pope Julius III., in 1555, Stephen Gardiner, 
 Bishop of Winchester and Lord Chancellor, wrote to 
 Bonner, Bishop of London, to command him, in Queen 
 Mary's name, to order those prayers to be used through- 
 out his diocese which the Roman Church has ap- 
 pointed during a vacancy in the Papal See. Upon 
 this commandment, says Foxe, on Wednesday in Easter 
 week, the 1 7th of April, there were herses set up, and 
 dirges sung, for the said Julius in divers places. 
 Now, it chanced that a woman came into St. Magnus 
 Church, at the bridge-foot, and there seeing a herse, 
 and other preparation, asked what it meant; a by- 
 stander said it was for the Pope, and that she must pray 
 for him. " Nay," quoth she, " that I will not, for he 
 needeth not my prayer ; and seeing he could forgive us 
 all our sins, I am sure he is clean himself; therefore, 
 I need not pray for him." She was heard to say these 
 dangerous words ; and by- and -by was carried unto the 
 * Abridged from the London Review.
 
 284 KOMANCE OF LONDOX. 
 
 cage at London Bridge, and " bade coole herselfe 
 there." In some of the editions of Foxe, there is an 
 engraving representing this incident, which shows that 
 the Stocks and Cage stood by one of the archways on 
 the bridge, and in one of the vacant spaces which 
 looked on to the water. 
 
 About half a century before this, Cages and Stocks 
 had been ordered to be set up in every Ward of the 
 City by Sir William Capell, Draper, and Lord Mayor, 
 in 1503. The last Stocks were removed about forty 
 years since. 
 
 FLOGGING AT BKIDEWELL. 
 
 ONE of the sights of London formerly was to go to 
 Bridewell Hospital, in Blackfriars, and there see the 
 unfortunate prisoners flogged for offences committed 
 without the prison. Both men and women, it appears, 
 were whipped on their naked backs, before the Court of 
 Governors. The President sat with his hammer in 
 his hand, and the culprit was taken from the post 
 when the hammer fell. The calls to knock when 
 women were flogged were loud and incessant " O 
 good Sir Robert, knock ! Pray, good Sir Robert, 
 knock," which became at length a common cry of re- 
 proach among the lower orders, to denote that a woman 
 of bad character had been whipped in Bridewell : 
 
 " This labour past, by Bridewell all descend, 
 As morning prayers and flagellations end." 
 
 POPE'S Dunciad. 
 
 Ned Ward, in his London Spy, gives this account 
 of the Bridewell Whippings in 1699. "We turned 
 into the gate of a stately edifice my friend told me was
 
 FLOGGING AT BRIDEWELL. 285 
 
 Bridewell, which to me seemed rather a prince's palace 
 than a house of correction ; till gazing round me, I saw 
 in a room a parcel of ill-looking mortals, stripped to 
 their shirts like haymakers pounding a pernicious 
 weed, which I thought from their unlucky aspects 
 seemed to threaten their destruction. From thence we 
 turned into another court, the buildings being, like the 
 former, magnificently noble ; where straight before us 
 was another grate, which proved the women's apart- 
 ment. We followed our noses, and walked up to take 
 a view of the ladies, who we found were shut up 
 as close as nuns ; but, like so many slaves, were under 
 the care and direction of an overseer, who walked 
 about with a very flexible weapon of offence, to correct 
 such hempen-journeywomen as were unhappily troubled 
 with the spirit of idleness. My friend now re-con- 
 ducted me into the first quadrangle, and led me up a pair 
 of stairs into a spacious chamber, where the court was 
 sat in great grandeur and order. A grave gentleman 
 was mounted in the judgement-seat, armed with a ham- 
 mer, like a change-broker at Lloyd's Coffee-house, and 
 a woman under the lash in the next room, where fold- 
 ing-doors were opened, that the whole court might 
 view the punishment. At last down went the hammer, 
 and the scourging ceased ; so that, I protest, till I was 
 undeceived, I thought they had sold their lashes by 
 auction. The honourable court, I observed, was chiefly 
 attended by fellows in blew coats and women in blew 
 aprons. Another accusation being then delivered by a 
 flat-cap against a poor wench, who having no friend to 
 speak in her behalf, proclamation was made, viz., * All 
 
 you who are willing E th T 11 should have 
 
 present punishment, pray hold up your hands ;' which
 
 286 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 was done accordingly, and she was ordered the civility 
 of the house." Hogarth, in the 4th Plate of his Harlots 
 Progress, tells the moral story. 
 
 Madam Creswell, the celebrated gay woman of 
 King Charles the Second's reign, died a prisoner in 
 Bridewell. She desired by will to have a sermon 
 preached at her funeral, for which the preacher was to 
 have 10; but upon this express condition, that he 
 was to say nothing but what was well of her. After 
 a sermon on the general subject of morality, the 
 preacher concluded with saying, " By the will of the 
 deceased, it is expected that I should mention her, and 
 say nothing but what was WELL of her. All that I 
 shall say of her, therefore, is this : She was born well, 
 she lived well, and she died well; for she was born 
 with the name of Creswell, she lived in Clerkenwe//, 
 and she died in Bridew?e//." 
 
 In the precincts of Bridewell lived John Rose, who 
 is said by Stow to have invented a lute early in the 
 reign of Queen Elizabeth : he is also thought to have 
 been "Rose, the old Viol-maker;" concerts of viols 
 being the musical entertainments after the practice of 
 singing madrigals grew into disuse. To this John 
 Rose's son is traced the " Old Rose," immortalised in 
 the song mentioned by Izaak Walton, and known to 
 us by " Sing Old Rose, and burn the bellows." 
 
 WITCHCRAFT PENANCE ON LONDON BRIDGE. 
 
 IN the year 1440, the Bridge Street, by which is meant 
 as well the passage over the Thames as the main street 
 beyond it on each side, was one scene of the public
 
 PENANCE ON LONDON BRIDGE. 287 
 
 penance of Eleanor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester, 
 for Witchcraft. The inflexible honesty of the Duke, 
 who was Proctector of England during the minority of 
 Henry VI., and presumptive heir to the Crown, had 
 created against him a violent party, the heads of which 
 were Cardinal Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, 
 and William de la Pole, first Duke of Suffolk. With 
 regard to his sovereign, however, not all the spies which 
 were placed about Humphrey Plantaganet, Duke of 
 Gloucester, by these powerful and inveterate enemies, 
 could find even a pretence for the slightest charge ; 
 though that which they were unable to discover in 
 him, they found in his Duchess, who was then accused 
 of Witchcraft and High Treason. It was asserted that 
 she had frequent conferences with one Sir Roger 
 Bolinbroke, a priest, who was supposed to be a 
 necromancer; and Margaret Jourdain, a witch of 
 Eye, near Westminster ; assisted and advised by John 
 Hum, a priest ; and Thomas Southwell, Priest and 
 Canon of St. Stephen's, Westminster. Shakspeare in 
 his Second Part of Henry VI., Act 1, Scene 2, makes 
 the Duchess ask Hum 
 
 Hast thou as yet conferr'd 
 With Margery Jourdain, the cuuning witch ; 
 And Roger Bolinbroke, the conjuror ? 
 And will they undertake to do me good? 
 
 Hum. This they have promised, to show your highness 
 A spirit rais'd from depth of underground, 
 That shall make answer to such questions, 
 As by your grace shall be propounded him. 
 
 Again, in Scene 4, we have Bolinbroke at his work, 
 assisted by Mother Jourdain, and Southwell, the 
 priest : 
 
 Duchess. Well said, my masters ; and welcome all 
 To this geer ; the sooner the better.
 
 288 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 Bolin. Patience, good lady ; wizards know their times : 
 Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night, 
 The time of night when Troy was set on fire ; 
 The time when screech-owls cry, and ban-dogs howl, 
 And spirits walk, and ghosts break up their graves, 
 That time best fits the work we have in hand. 
 Madam, sit you, and fear not ; whom we raise, 
 We will make fast within a hallow'd verge. 
 
 Here they perform the ceremonies appertaining, and 
 make the circle; Bolinbroke, or Southwell, reads, 
 " Conjuro te, &c." It thunders and lightens terribly ; 
 then the spirit riseth, &c. York and Buckingham 
 enter hastily, and lay hands upon " the traitors and 
 their trash." In Act II. Scene 1, Buckingham thus 
 describes to the King the actors : 
 
 A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent, 
 Under the countenance and confederacy 
 Of Lady Eleanor, the Protector's wife, 
 The ringleader and head of all this rout, 
 Have practis'd dangerously against your state, 
 Dealing with witches, and with conjurors : 
 Whom we have apprehended in the fact ; 
 Raising up wicked spirits from underground. 
 
 In Scene 3 we have the sentence, and next the 
 penance. The Duchess, though made to ask ques- 
 tions as to the King's fate, was in reality charged with 
 having his image made of wax, which, being placed 
 before a slow fire, should cause his strength to decay as 
 the wax melted. The result of the 'enquiry was that 
 Jourdain was burned in Smithfield : 
 
 The witch in Smithfield shall be burned to ashes. 
 
 Southwell died before his execution in the Tower; 
 Bolinbroke was hanged, drawn, and quartered at Ty- 
 burn ; and on November 9th, the Duchess was sen- 
 tenced to perform public penance at three open places
 
 STRIKING IN THE KING'S COURT. 289 
 
 in London. On Monday, the 13th, she came by water 
 .from Westminster, and landing at the Temple Bridge, 
 walked, at noon-day, through Fleet Street, bearing a 
 waxen taper of two pounds weight, to St. Paul's, where 
 she offered it at the High Altar. On the Wednesday 
 following, she landed at the Old Swan, and passed 
 through Bridge Street and Gracechurch Street to 
 Leadenhall, and at Cree Church, near Aldgate, made 
 her second offering ; and on the ensuing Friday she 
 was put on shore at Queenhithe, whence she pro- 
 ceeded to St. Michael's Church, Cornhill, and so com- 
 pleted her penance. In each of these processions her 
 head was covered only by a kerchief; her feet were bare ; 
 scrolls, containing a narrative of her crime, were affixed 
 to her white dress ; and she was received and attended 
 by the Mayor, Sheriffs, and Companies of London. 
 
 From the Harleian MS., No. 585, we learn more 
 precisely the fate of Roger Bolinbroke that the same 
 day on which he was condemned at Guildhall, he was 
 drawn from the Tower of London to Tyburn, and there 
 hanged, headed and quartered, and his head set up 
 on London Bridge : his quarters were disposed of at 
 Hereford, Oxford, York, and Cambridge. 
 
 STRIKING IN THE KING'S COURT. 
 CONTEMPTS against the royal palaces have been always 
 looked upon as high offences ; and by the ancient law 
 before the Conquest, fighting in the king's palace, or 
 before the king's judges, was punished with death. By 
 the statute 33 Henry VIII. , c. 12, malicious striking 
 in the king's palace, wherein his royal person resides, 
 whereby blood is drawn, was punishable by perpetual 
 VOL. i. u
 
 290 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 imprisonment, and fine at the king's pleasure, and also 
 with the loss of the offender's right hand ; the solemn 
 execution of which sentence is prescribed in the statute 
 at length ; but by 9 Geo. IV., c. 31, this punishment 
 is repealed. It appears, however, to be a contempt of 
 the kind now in question to execute the ordinary pro- 
 cess of the law, by arrest or otherwise, within the verge 
 of a royal palace, or in the Tower, unless permission 
 be first obtained from the proper authority.* 
 
 Sir Richard Baker, in his Chronicle, thus minutely 
 describes the execution of the above barbarous sen- 
 tence : 
 
 On the 10th of June 1541, Sir Edmund Knevet of 
 Norfolk, Knight, was arraigned before the officers of 
 the Green Cloth for striking one Master Cleer of 
 Norfolk, within the Tennis Court of the King's House. 
 Being found guilty, he had judgment to lose his right 
 hand, and to forfeit all his lands and goods ; whereupon 
 there was called to do execution, first, the Sergeant 
 Surgeon, with his instruments pertaining to his office ; 
 then the Sergeant of the Wood-yard, with a mallet 
 and block to lay the hand upon; then the King's 
 Master Cook, with a knife to cut off the hand ; then the 
 Sergeant of the Larder, to set the knife right on the 
 joint ; then the Sergeant Farrier, with searing-irons to 
 sear the veins ; then the Sergeant of the Poultry, with 
 a cock, which cock should have his head smitten off 
 upon the block, and with the same knife ; then 
 the Yeoman of Chandry, with sear-cloths; then the 
 Yeoman of the Scullery, with a pan of fire to heat the 
 irons, a chafer of water to cool the ends of the irons, 
 and two forms for all officers to set their stuff on ; then 
 the Sergeant of the Cellar, with wine, ale, and beer ; 
 * Stephen's Commentaries.
 
 STRIKING IN THE KING'S COURT. 291 
 
 then the Sergeant of the Ewry, with bason, ewre, and 
 towels. All things being thus prepared, Sir William 
 Pickering, Knight-Marshal, was commanded to bring 
 in his prisoner, Sir Edmund Knevet, to whom the 
 Chief-Justice declared his offence, which the said 
 Knevet confessed, and humbly submitted himself to the 
 king's mercy ; only he desired that the king would spare 
 his right hand and take his left ; " Because," said he, 
 " if my right hand be spared, I may live to do the 
 king good service : " of whose submission and reason of 
 his suit, when the king was informed, he granted him 
 to lose neither of his hands, and pardoned him also 
 of his lands and goods. Chronicle, ed. 1674. 
 
 Chamberlayne describes the ceremony as follows : 
 The Sergeant of the King's Wood-yard brings to the 
 place of execution a square block, a beetle, and a staple 
 and cords to fasten the hands thereto. The Yeoman of 
 the Scullery provides a great fire of coals by the block, 
 where the searing-irons, brought by the chief Farrier, 
 are to be ready for the chief Surgeon to use. Vinegar 
 and cold water are to be brought by the Groom of the 
 Saucery; and the chief officers of the Cellar and 
 Pantry are to be ready, one with a cup of red wine, and 
 the other with a manchet, to offer the criminal. The 
 Sergeant of the Ewry is to bring the linen to wind 
 about and wrap the arm ; the Yeoman of the Poultry, 
 a cock to lay to it ; the Yeoman of the Chandlery, 
 seared cloths ; and the Master Cook, a sharp dresser- 
 knife, which at the place of execution is to be held 
 upright by the Sergeant of the Larder, till execution 
 be performed by an officer appointed thereunto. After 
 all, the criminal shall be imprisoned during life, and 
 fined and ransomed at the king's will. 
 
 U 2
 
 292 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 TOETUEE. THE EACK. 
 
 WHEN, in 1628, Felton was about to be put on his 
 trial for the assassination of the Duke of Buckingham, 
 it was suggested by the King that Felton might be put 
 to the rack, in order to make him discover his accom- 
 plices ; but the judges unanimously declared that the 
 laws of England did not allow the use of torture. This 
 was the first adjudication of the illegality of this mode 
 of extorting confession. Lingard says, upon this point : 
 " Notwithstanding the formal opinion of the judges in 
 the case of Felton, there is no doubt that the practice 
 continued during the whole reign of Charles I., as a 
 warrant for applying the torture to one Archer, in 
 1 640, is to be seen at the State Paper Office. This, 
 however, appears to have been the last occasion on 
 which this odious practice was resorted to. There is 
 no trace of it during the Commonwealth ; and in the 
 reign of Charles II., where we might have expected to 
 find it, there is not a single well-authenticated instance 
 of the application of the torture. 
 
 " The following is an account of the kinds of torture 
 chiefly employed in the Tower : The rack was a large 
 open frame of oak, raised three feet from the ground. 
 The prisoner was laid under it on his back on the floor ; 
 his wrists and ancles were attached by cords to two 
 collars at the ends of the frame ; these were moved by 
 levers in opposite directions, till the body rose to a level 
 with the frame ; questions were then put, and if the 
 answers did not prove satisfactory the sufferer was 
 stretched more and more, till the bones started from 
 their sockets. The ' scavenger's daughter ' was a broad
 
 TORTURE. THE RACK. 293 
 
 hoop of iron, so called, consisting of two parts, fastened 
 to each other by a hinge. The prisoner was made to 
 kneel on the pavement, and to contract himself into as 
 small a compass as he could. Then the executioner, 
 kneeling on his shoulders, and having introduced the 
 hoop under his legs, compressed the victim close to- 
 gether, till he was able to fasten the extremities over 
 the small of the back. The time allotted to this kind 
 of torture was an hour and a half, during which time 
 it commonly happened that from excess of compression 
 the blood started from the nostrils; sometimes, it was 
 believed, from the extremities of the hands and feet. 
 Iron gauntlets, which could be contracted by the aid of 
 a screw ; these were also called manacles. They served 
 to compress the wrists, and to suspend the prisoner in 
 the air, from two distant points of a beam. He was 
 placed on three pieces of wood piled one on the other, 
 which, when his hands had been made fast, were suc- 
 cessively withdrawn from under his feet. * I felt,' said 
 F. Gerard, one of the sufferers for the Gunpowder Plot, 
 ' the chief pain in my breast, belly, arms, and hands. 
 I thought that all the blood in my body had run into 
 my arms, and began to burst out at my fingers' ends. 
 This was a mistake ; but the arms swelled till the 
 gauntlets were buried within the flesh. After being 
 thus suspended an hour I fainted, and when I came to 
 myself I found the executioners supporting me in their 
 arms ; they replaced the pieces of wood under my feet, 
 but as soon as I was recovered they removed them 
 again. Thus I continued hanging for the space of five 
 hours, during which I fainted eight or nine times.' 
 
 " A fourth kind of torture was a cell called ' little 
 ease,' of so small dimensions, and so constructed, that
 
 294 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 the prisoner could neither stand, walk, sit, nor lie in it 
 at full length ; he was compelled to draw himself up in 
 a squatting posture, and so remain during several days." 
 
 Hallam observes, that though the English law never 
 recognised the use of torture, yet there were many in- 
 stances of its employment in the reign of Elizabeth and 
 James ; and among others, in the case of the Gun- 
 powder Plot. He says, indeed, that in the latter part 
 of the reign of Elizabeth, " the rack seldom stood idle 
 in the Tower." 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh, at his trial, mentioned that 
 Kentish was threatened with the rack, and that the 
 keeper of this horrid instrument was sent for. Campion, 
 a Jesuit, was put to the rack in the reign of Elizabeth ; 
 and in Collier's Ecclesiastical History are mentioned 
 other instances during the same reign. Bishop Burnet, 
 likewise, in his History of the Reformation, states that 
 Anne Askew was tortured in the Tower in 1546 ; and 
 that the Lord Chancellor, throwing oft his gown, drew 
 the rack so severely that he almost tore her body 
 asunder.* It appears from the Cecil Papers that all the 
 Duke of Norfolk's servants were tortured by order of 
 Queen Elizabeth, who also threatened Hayward, the 
 historian, with the rack. 
 
 PRESSING TO DEATH. 
 
 BETWEEN the Court-house in the Old Bailey, and 
 Newgate prison, is a large open space, known as the 
 Press-yard, from its having been the scene of the 
 terrible punishment of " Pressing to Death" for stand- 
 
 * Prints of the Rack are to be seen in the old edition of Foxe's 
 ".Book of Martyrs."
 
 PRESSING TO DEATH. 295 
 
 ing mute that is, when a prisoner arraigned for treason, 
 or felony, either made no answer at all, or answered 
 foreign to the purpose. He was examined by judges : 
 if found to be obstinately mute, then, in treason, it was 
 held that standing mute was equivalent to conviction ; 
 and the law was the same as to all misdemeanours. 
 But upon indictment for any other felony, the prisoner, 
 after trina admonitio, and a respite of a few hours, was 
 subject to the barbarous sentence of peine forte et dure; 
 viz. to be remanded to prison and put into a low dark 
 chamber, and there laid on his back on the bare floor 
 naked, unless where decency forbade ; that there should 
 be placed on his body as great a weight of iron as he 
 could bear, and more : that he should have no susten- 
 ance, save only on the first day three morsels of the 
 worst bread, and on the second three draughts of stand- 
 ing water that should be nearest to the prison-door; 
 and that, in this situation, such should be alternately 
 his daily diet till lie died, or, as anciently the judgment 
 ran, till he answered. 
 
 In the Perfect Account of the Daily Intelligence, 
 April 16th, 1651, we find it recorded: "Mond. April 
 14th. This Session at the Old Bailey, were four men 
 pressed to death that were all in one robbery, and, out 
 of obstinacy and contempt of the court, stood mute and 
 refused to plead." 
 
 It appears from the Sessions Papers that tying the 
 thumbs together of criminals, in order to compel them 
 to plead, was practised at the Old Bailey in the reign 
 of Queen Anne. Among the cases is that of Mary 
 Andrews, in 1721, who continued so obstinate that 
 three whipcords were broken before she would plead. 
 And in 1711, Nathaniel Haws had his thumbs squeezed,
 
 296 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 after which he continued seven minutes under the press 
 with 250 Ibs., and then submitted. 
 
 In the year 1659, Major Strangewayes was tried 
 before Lord Chief-Justice Glyn for the murder of Mr. 
 John Fussel ; and refusing to plead, was pressed to 
 death. By the account of this execution, which is added 
 to the printed trial, he died in about eight minutes, 
 many people in the press-yard casting stones upon him 
 to hasten his death. From the description of the press, 
 it appears that it was brought nearly to a point where 
 it touched his breast. It is stated likewise to have 
 been usual to put a sharp piece of wood under the 
 criminal, which might meet the upper part of the rack 
 in the sufferer's body. Holinshed states that the back 
 of the criminal was placed upon a sharp stone. Other 
 precedents mention the tying his arms and legs with 
 cords, fastened at different parts of the prison, and ex- 
 tending the limbs as far as they could be stretched.* 
 
 No. 674 of the Universal Spectator records two in- 
 stances of pressing in the reign of George II. : " Sept. 
 5, 1741. On Tuesday was sentenced to death at the 
 Old Bailey, Henry Cook, the shoemaker, of Stratford, 
 for robbing Mr. Zachary on the highway. On Cook's 
 refusing to plead, ther.e was a new press made, and 
 fixed to the proper place in the Press-yard ; there having 
 been no person pressed since the famous Spiggot the 
 highwayman, which is about twenty years ago. Barn- 
 worth, alias Frasier, was pressed at Kingston in Surrey, 
 about sixteen years ago." 
 
 These horrible details have often been discredited ; 
 but records of pressing, so late as 1770, exist ; with the 
 addition, however, that " the punishment was seldom 
 * Barrington, On the More Ancient Statutes.
 
 DISCOVERY OF A MURDER. 297 
 
 inflicted, but some offenders have chose it in order to 
 preserve their estates for their children. Those guilty 
 of this crime are not now suffered to undergo such a 
 length of torture, but have so great a weight placed on 
 them that they soon expire." 
 
 DISCOVEKY OF A MURDER. 
 
 IN a collection of anecdotes, written about the be- 
 ginning of the last century, in the Rawlinson MSS., is 
 the following singular narrative : 
 
 Dr. Airy, Provost of Queen's College, Oxon. (1599 
 1616), passing with his servant, accidentally, through 
 St. Sepulchre's Churchyard, in London, where the 
 sexton was making a grave, observing a skull to move, 
 showed it to his servant, and then to the sexton, who, 
 taking it up, found a great toad in it, but withal 
 observed a tenpenny nail stuck in the temple-bone ; 
 whereupon the Doctor presently imagined the party 
 to have been murdered, and asked the sexton if he 
 remembered whose skull it was. He answered it was 
 the skull of a man who died suddenly, and had been 
 buried 22 years before. The Doctor told him that cer- 
 tainly the man was murdered, and that it was fitting 
 to be inquired after, and so departed. The sexton 
 thinking much upon it, remembered some particular 
 stories talked of at the death of the party, as that 
 his wife, then alive, and married to another person, 
 had been seen to go into his chamber with a nail and 
 hammer, &c. ; whereupon he went to a justice of the 
 peace, and told him all the story. The wife was sent 
 for, and witnesses were found who testified that and 
 some other particulars ; she confessed, and was hanged.
 
 298 ROMANCE OF LONDOX. 
 
 OEIGIN OF THE COVENTEY ACT, 
 
 THE famous Coventry Act against cutting and maim- 
 ing had its origin in the following piece of barbarous 
 revenge : Sir John Coventry was on his way to his 
 own house, in Suffolk Street, in the Haymarket, from 
 the Cock Tavern, in Bow Street, where he had supped, 
 when his nose was cut to the bone at the corner of the 
 street " for reflecting on the King." It appears that 
 a motion had recently been made in the 'House of 
 Commons to lay a tax on playhouses. The Court 
 opposed the motion. The players, it was said (by 
 Sir John Birkenhead), were the King's servants, and 
 a part of his pleasure. Coventry asked, " Whether did 
 the King's pleasure lie among the men or the women 
 that acted ? " perhaps recollecting more particularly 
 the King's visit to Moll Davis, in Suffolk Street, 
 where Charles had furnished a house most richly for 
 her, provided her with " a mighty pretty fine coach," 
 and given her a ring of TOO/., " which," says the page, 
 " is a most infinite shame." The King determined to 
 leave a mark upon Sir John Coventry for his freedom 
 of remark, and he was watched on his way home. " He 
 stood up to the wall," says Burnet, " and snatched the 
 flambeau out of the servant's hands ; and with that in 
 one hand, and the sword in the other, he defended 
 himself so well, that he got more credit by it than by 
 all the actions of his life. He wounded some of them, 
 but was soon disarmed, and they cut his nose to the 
 bone, to teach him to remember what respect he owed 
 to the King." Burnet adds, that his nose was so well 
 sewed up, that the scar was scarce to be discerned. 
 " In the age of Charles, the ancient high and chival-
 
 RISE OF JUDGE JEFFREYS. 299 
 
 rous sense of honour was esteemed Quixotic, and the 
 Civil War had left traces of ferocity in the manners 
 and sentiments of the people. Encounters, where the 
 assailants took all advantages of number and weapons, 
 were as frequent, and held as honourable, as regular 
 duels. Some of these approached closely to assassi- 
 nation; as in the above case which occasioned the 
 Coventry Act, an Act highly necessary, for so far did 
 our ancestors' ideas of manly forbearance differ from 
 ours, that Killigrew introduces the hero of one of his 
 comedies, a cavalier, and the fine gentleman of the 
 piece, lying in wait for and slashing the face of a 
 poor courtezan, who had cheated him." * 
 
 EISE OF JUDGE JEFFEEYS. 
 
 TOWARDS the middle of the seventeenth century, there 
 was a rough country-boy, a pupil of St. Paul's School, 
 who stood watching a procession of the Judges on 
 their way to dine with my Lord Mayor. The father 
 of the boy wished to bind him apprentice to a mercer ; 
 but the aspiring lad, as he looked on the train of 
 Judges, registered a vow that he too would one day 
 ride through the City, the guest of the Mayor, and 
 die a Lord Chancellor. His sire pronounced him mad, 
 and resigned himself to the idea that his obstinate son 
 would one day die with his shoes on. 
 
 The boy's views, however, were completely realized, 
 and the father's prophecy was also in part fulfilled. 
 The connection of the notorious Jeffreys with the City 
 was, from an early period, a very close one. He 
 
 * Leigh Hunt's Town.
 
 300 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 drank hard with, and worked hard for, the City autho- 
 rities, and was as well known in the taverns of Alder- 
 manbury as Shaftesbury was in the same district, 
 when he was inspired by the transitory ambition of 
 himself becoming Vice-king in the City. From the 
 time that Jeffreys became Common Serjeant but 
 more especially from the period he became Recorder 
 he kinged it over the Vice-king. He was Lord Mayor, 
 Common Council, Court of Aldermen and supreme 
 Judge, all in one ; and the first-named officer had 
 really a melancholy time of it during the period 
 Jeffreys had sway in the City. At the feasts he was 
 a tippling, truculent fellow, brow-beating the men, 
 and staring the most dauntless of the women out of 
 countenance. In the latter pastime he was well 
 matched, perhaps excelled, by his learned brother, 
 Trevor ; and my Lord Mayor Bludworth had good 
 reason to remember both of them. The Mayor had a 
 fair daughter, the young and wild widow of a Welsh 
 squire, and one who made City entertainments brilliant 
 by her presence, and hilarious by her conduct and her 
 tongue. There was a wonderful amount of homage 
 rendered to this Helen, to whom it mattered little in 
 what form or speech the homage was rendered. The 
 rudest could not bring a blush upon her cheek ; her 
 ear was never turned away from any suitor of the 
 hour, and every lover was received with a laugh 
 and a welcome by this most buxom of Lord Mayors' 
 daughters. 
 
 When she finally accepted the hand of Jeffreys, her 
 own was in the hand of Trevor ; and no City match 
 was ever so productive of a peculiar sort of satirical 
 ballad as this one, which united the said Mayor's
 
 EISE OF JUDGE JEFFREYS. 301 
 
 
 
 rather too notorious daughter with the not yet too 
 infamous Sir George. Poets and poetasters pelted 
 him with anonymous epigrams ; aldermen drank queer 
 healths to him in their cups; and lively tongued 
 women, in his own court, when he was too hard upon 
 them, would thrust at him an allusion to his lady from 
 Guildhall, which would put him into a fume of impotent 
 indignation. 
 
 There is not one man in a thousand, probably, who 
 is aware that the blood of Jeffreys and the Mayor of 
 London's daughter afterwards flowed in noble veins. 
 They had an only son, a dissolute, drunken fellow, 
 with whom even aldermen were too nice to have a 
 carouse, and whose appearance at a feast scared Mayors 
 who could take their claret liberally. This likely 
 youth, whose intoxication broke down the solemnity 
 of Dryden's funeral, married, in spite of his vices, a 
 daughter and sole heiress of the House of Pembroke. 
 The only child of this marriage -was Henrietta, who 
 married the Earl of Pomfret, and enabled Queen 
 Caroline to have a grand-daughter of the infamous 
 Judge for her Lady of the Bedchamber. One of 
 Lady Pomfret's many children, Charlotte Finch, was 
 well known to many of our sires. She was governess 
 to George the Third's children, whom she often accom- 
 panied to the City to witness the annual show; the 
 great-great-grand-daughter of Judge Jeffreys and the 
 Guildhall light-o'-love thus having the superintendence 
 of the conduct and morals of the young Princes and 
 Princesses. From the Athenaeum, No. 1723.
 
 302 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 STORIES OF THE STAR-CHAMBER. 
 
 THIS odious Court, named from the ceiling of the 
 chamber being anciently ornamented with gilded stars, 
 is not mentioned as a Court of Justice earlier than the 
 reign of Henry VII., about which time the old titles 
 of " the Lords sitting in the Star-Chamber," and " the 
 Council in the Star-Chamber," seem to have been 
 merged into the one distinguishing appellation of " the 
 Star Chamber." The Judges, before and subsequent 
 to this alteration, were " the Lords of the Council," as 
 they are still termed in the Litany of the Church 
 service. The modes of proceeding before the council 
 were by the mouth, or by bill and answer. After the 
 sittings, the Lords dined in the inner Star-Chamber, 
 
 O 7 * 
 
 at the public expense. In political cases, " soden re- 
 porte," as it was called, is thought to have meant 
 private and secret information given to the council. 
 The person accused, or suspected, was immediately 
 apprehended and privately examined. If he confessed 
 any offence, or if the cunning examiner drew from him, 
 or he let fall, any expressions which suited their pur- 
 pose, he was at once brought to the bar, his confession 
 or examination was read, he was convicted out of his 
 own mouth, and judgment was immediately pronounced 
 against him. Upon admissions of immaterial circum- 
 stances thus aggravated, and distorted into confessions 
 of guilt, the Earl of Northumberland was prosecuted 
 by word of mouth, in the Star-Chamber, for being 
 privy to the Gunpowder Plot, and was sentenced to 
 pay a fine of 30,OOOZ., and be imprisoned for life. 
 The Star-Chamber held its sittings, from the end of
 
 STORIES OF THE STAR-CHAMBER. 303 
 
 Queen Elizabeth's reign until the final abolition of 
 the court by Parliament in 1641, in apartments on the 
 eastern side of New Palace Yard ; these buildings bore 
 the date 1602, and E. R. and an open rose on a star; 
 they corresponded with the " Starre-Chamber " in Ag- 
 gas's plan of London in 1570. The last of the buildings 
 was taken clown in 1836 ; drawings were then made of 
 the court, which had an enriched ceiling, but no re- 
 mains of the star ornamentations, notwithstanding, 
 behind the Elizabethan panelling, the style of the 
 chamber was Tudor-Gothic. The remains are preserved 
 at Leasowe Castle, the seat of the Hon. Sir Edward 
 Cust, in Cheshire. 
 
 Imagination can scarcely picture a more terrible 
 judicature. This tribunal was bound by no law, but 
 created and defined the offences it punished ; the judges 
 were in point of fact the prosecutors ; and every mix- 
 ture of those two characters is inconsistent with impar- 
 tial justice. Crimes of the greatest magnitude were 
 treated of in this court, but solely punished as tres- 
 passes, the council not having dared to usurp the power 
 of inflicting death. 
 
 Among the many abuses of the process was, that in 
 the time of Queen Elizabeth, " many solicitors who 
 lived in Wales, Cornwall, or the farthest parts of the 
 North, did make a trade to sue forth a multitude of 
 subprcnas to vex their neighbours, who, rather than 
 they would travel to London, would give them any 
 composition, though there were no colour of complaint 
 against them." The process might anciently be served 
 in any place : in Catholic times usually in the market 
 or the church. The highest number of the council who 
 attended the court in the reigns of Henry VII. and
 
 304 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 VIII. was nearly forty, of whom seven or eight were 
 prelates ; in the reign of Elizabeth the number was 
 nearly thirty, but it subsequently declined. The 
 Chancellor was the supreme judge, and alone sat with 
 his head uncovered. Upon important occasions, persons 
 who wished " to get convenient places and standing " 
 went there by three o'clock in the morning. The 
 counsel were confined to a " laconical brevity ; " the 
 examinations of the witnesses were read, and the mem- 
 bers of the court delivered their opinions in order from 
 the inferior upwards, the Archbishop preceding the 
 Chancellor. 
 
 Every punishment, except death, was assumed to be 
 within the power of the Star-Chamber Court. Pillory, 
 fine and imprisonment, and whipping, wearing of papers 
 through Westminster Hall, and letters " seared in the 
 face with hote irons," were ordinary punishments. 
 Henry VII. had a fondness for sitting in the Star- 
 Chamber : the court was the great instrument for his 
 " extort doynge ; " and " the King took the matter 
 into his own hands," was a Star-Chamber phrase ; and 
 " my attorney must speak to you," was a sure prelude 
 to a heavy fine. Wolsey made a great show of his 
 magnificence in the Star-Chamber: he proceeded to 
 the sittings of the court in great state, his mace and 
 seal being carried before him ; " he spared neither high 
 nor low, but judged every estate according to their 
 merits and deserts." After his fall, with the exception 
 of occasional interference in religious matters and 
 matters of police, we seldom hear of the Star-Chamber. 
 (See the very able dissertation by John Bruce, F. S. A., 
 ArchcBologia, vol.viii.
 
 305 
 
 PERSONS OF NOTE IMPRISONED IN THE FLEET. 
 
 FOR nearly eight centuries was the Fleet a place of secu- 
 rity or confinement, and the terror of evil-doers of almost 
 every grade : its cells and dungeons were tenanted by 
 political and religious martyrs ; besides a host of men 
 of more pliant consciences, whom the law stigmatised 
 as debtors. 
 
 The early history of the prison is little better than a 
 sealed book; the burning of the building by Wat 
 Tyler being the only noticeable event. By the regula- 
 tions of this period, the Warden might arm the porters 
 at the gates with halberts, bills, or other weapons. 
 
 In the reigns of Edward VI. and Queen Mary, 
 several victims of those bigoted times were committed 
 here. Bishop Hooper was twice sentenced to the Fleet, 
 which he only quitted in 1555, for the stake and the 
 fire at Gloucester. In the Fleet his bed was " a little 
 pad of straw, with a rotten covering, his chamber was 
 vile and stinking." It was expected that he would 
 have accompanied Rogers, a prebendary of St. Paul's, 
 to the stake ; but Hooper, after his trial, was led back 
 to his cell, to be carried down to Gloucester, to suffer 
 among his own people. Next morning he was roused 
 at four o'clock, and being committed to the care of six 
 of Queen Mary's guard, they took him, before it was 
 light, to the Angel Inn, St. Clement's, then standing in 
 the fields ; thence he was taken to Gloucester, and there 
 burnt, with dreadful torments, on the 9th of February : 
 the spot is marked by a statue of the Bishop, beneath 
 a gothic canopy, which was inaugurated in 1863, 
 on the 308th anniversary of Hooper's martyrdom. 
 
 The Fleet was originally the prison for persons 
 VOL. i. x
 
 306 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 committed from the Court of Star Chamber. Bacon, in 
 early life, held the office of Registrar of this infamous 
 Court, worth about 1,6007. per annum. In his Life of 
 King Henry VII. he characterises the Court as " one 
 of the sagest and noblest institutions of the kingdom ;" 
 " composed of good elements, for it consisteth of coun- 
 sellors, peers, prelates, and chief judges." 
 
 From the reign of Elizabeth to the sixteenth of 
 Charles I. (1641), the Star Chamber was in full 
 activity. Among the political victims consigned to the 
 Fleet were Prynne and Lilburne. Prynne was com- 
 mitted here for writing his Histriomastix, taken out of 
 the prison, and, after suffering pillory, branding, mutila- 
 tion of the nose, and loss of ears, was remanded to the 
 Fleet. Lilburne, " Free-born John," and his printer, 
 were committed to the Fleet for libel and sedition : the 
 former was smartly whipped at f* the cart's tail," from 
 the prison to the pillory, placed between Westminster 
 Hall and Star Chamber, and subsequently " doubly 
 ironed " in the prison-wards. 
 
 After the abolition of the Star Chamber, in 1641, 
 the Fleet became a prison for contempt of the 
 Courts of Chancery, Common Pleas, and Exchequer ; 
 and it continued a prison for debtors, for which purpose 
 it appears to have been used from the thirteenth 
 century at least, by a petition from John Frauncey, a 
 debtor in the Fleet, A.D. 1290. 
 
 Wycherley, the wit and dramatist, lay in the Fleet 
 seven years, ruined through his Countess' settlement 
 being disputed, was thrown into prison, and is said to 
 have been at last relieved by James II., who having 
 gone to see Wycherley's Plain Dealer acted, was so 
 delighted, that he gave orders for the payment of the
 
 PERSONS OF NOTE IMPRISONED IN THE FLEET. 307 
 
 author's debts, and settling a pension of 200/. a year on 
 him. The history has an apocryphal air. 
 
 Sir Richard Baker, the Chronicler, was one of the 
 most unfortunate debtors confined here : he married in 
 1620, and soon after got into pecuniary difficulties, and 
 was thrown into the Fleet Prison, where he spent the 
 remaining years of his life, and died in 1644-45, in 
 a state of extreme poverty. Mr. Cunningham, from 
 the Rate-books of St. Clement's Danes, tells us that 
 Sir Richard lived in Milford-lane, Strand, from 1632 
 to 1639 ; possibly Lady Baker resided here. Sir 
 Richard wrote his Chronicle, published 1641, and other 
 works, as a means of subsistence during his imprison- 
 ment. The Chronicle was for a century the popular 
 book among the squires and ancient country gentlemen 
 of the school of Sir Roger de Coverley. Sir Richard's 
 residence in the Fleet was not very compatible with 
 reference to authorities and antiquarian research ; 
 though full of errors, it has given more pleasure and 
 diffused more knowledge than historical works of 
 far higher pretensions : it is now little read ; but we 
 may remark, by the way, that some historical works 
 written and most read in our time, are by no means the 
 most accurate. Baker's Chronicle is certainly one of 
 the most amusing "prison books," and has been treated 
 with much unmerited ridicule. Sir Richard was buried 
 in the nearest church, old St. Bride's, the burial-place 
 of the Fleet Wardens. Francis Sandford, author of 
 the Genealogical History, died in the Fleet in 1693. 
 
 To Howel's imprisonment here we owe his very 
 entertaining Familiar Letters, several of which are 
 dated from here. By " A Letter to the Earl of B., 
 from the Fleet," Nov. 20, 1643, Howel was arrested 
 
 x2
 
 308 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 " one morning betimes," by five men, armed with 
 " swords, pistils, and bils," and some days after com- 
 mitted to the Fleet ; and he adds, " As far as I see, 
 I must lie at dead anchor in this Fleet a long time, un*- 
 lesse some gentle gale blow thence to make me launch 
 out." Then we find him solacing himself with the 
 reflection that the English people are in effect but 
 prisoners, as all other islanders are. Other Letters, by 
 Howel, are dated from the Fleet, 1615-6-7 ; some are 
 dated from various places, but are believed to have 
 been written in the Fleet : still they bear internal 
 evidence that Howel had visited these places. 
 
 Howel's Letters, already mentioned, have had a re- 
 flex in our time in Richard Oastler's Fleet Papers, " a 
 weekly epistle on public matters," inscribed to Thomas 
 Thornhill, Esq., of Fixby Hall, Yorkshire, whose 
 steward Oastler had been, and at whose suit he was 
 imprisoned here : he was liberated by subscription, 
 February 12, 1844, and has left an interesting account 
 of his imprisonment. Of Oastler, a colossal bronze 
 group, by Philip, has been erected at Bradford, in 
 memory of his advocacy of the Ten-Hours Factory 
 Bill. 
 
 Among the distinguished prisoners here, was the im- 
 petuous Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, who was first 
 committed here for sending a challenge ; he was allowed 
 in the prison the use of two servants to wait upon him, 
 but not permitted to entertain 'any of his friends at 
 table. He made several applications for his release : he 
 pleads to the Privy Council " the fury of reckless 
 youth," and the inoffensiveness of his past life ; and 
 begs, that if he may not be liberated, he may, at least, 
 be removed to a place of confinement in better air ; he
 
 PERSONS OF NOTE IMPRISONED IN THE FLEET. 309 
 
 was then removed to Windsor, and in four days re- 
 leased. In 1543, Surrey was summoned before the 
 Privy Council, at the instance of the City authorities, 
 for having eaten flesh in Lent; and for having with 
 young Wyatt, the poet's son, and Pickering, gone 
 about the streets at midnight breaking windows with 
 stone-bows. To the first charge he pleaded a license ; 
 submitting to sentence on the second, for which he was 
 again sent to the Fleet. During his imprisonment he 
 wrote his Satire upon the Citizens, in which he pre- 
 tends that he broke their windows to awaken them to 
 a sense of their iniquities, commencing : 
 
 London ! hast thou accused me 
 Of breach of laws ? the root of strife, 
 Within whose breast did boil to see, 
 So fervent hot, thy dissolute life ; 
 That even the hate of sins that grow 
 Within thy wicked walls so rife, 
 For to break forth did convert so, 
 That terror could it not repress. 
 
 Surrey's grave irony has misled the editor of his Poems, 
 who states the poet's motive to have been a religious 
 one ; a very absurd defence of a vinous frolic of 
 window-breaking. 
 
 We pass to aaother class of committals. Keys was 
 sent here for marrying the Lady Mary Grey, .the 
 sister of Lady Jane Grey ; Dr. Donne, for marrying 
 Sir George More's daughter without her father's know- 
 ledge ; Sir Robert Killigrew, for speaking to Sir 
 Thomas Overbury as he came from visiting Sir Walter 
 Raleigh ; the Countess of Dorset, for pressing into the 
 Privy Chamber, and importuning James I., " contrary 
 to commandment ; " and Lucius Carey, Viscount 
 Falkland., for sending a challenge.
 
 310 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 Nash was imprisoned here for writing the satirical 
 play of the Isle of Dogs, never printed : he died at the 
 early age of thirty-five, having " prodigally conspired 
 against good hours." Pope might well designate the 
 Fleet "the Haunt of the Muses." Robert Lloyd, 
 Churchill's friend, was here in 1764. Parson Ford, 
 who figures in Hogarth's Midnight Conversation, died 
 here in 1731 ; and Parson Keith of May Fair, was 
 here in 1758. Mrs. Cornelys, who gave, in Carlisle 
 House, balls, concerts, and masquerades, unparalleled 
 in the annals of public fashion, by her improvidence 
 was reduced to become " a vendor of asses' milk," and 
 sinking still lower, died in the Fleet in 1797. 
 
 Another eccentric person may be added to the list 
 ***"' v the Chevalier Desseasau, a native of Russia, who in early 
 life bore a commision in the service of that country ; 
 but, having severely wounded a brother officer in a 
 duel, the Chevalier came to England, and here passed 
 the remainder of his days. He soon became acquainted 
 with Foote, Murphy, Goldsmith, and Johnson : he was 
 a frequenter of Anderton's Coffee-house in Fleet Street ; 
 a tavern called " The Barn," in St. Martin's Lane ; 
 and several coffee-houses in Covent Garden. He at 
 length became reduced in his circumstances, and so 
 distressed as to be confined for debt in the Fleet prison ; 
 but such was the confidence placed in his honour, that 
 he was allowed to go out of the prison ichenever he pleased. 
 He died at his lodgings in Fleet Market, in 1775, aged 
 70, and was interred in St. Bride's Churchyard. 
 
 Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania, was living 
 "within the rules of the Fleet" in 1707; " Curll's 
 Corinna," Mrs. Thomas, was also a ruler ; and Richard 
 Savage, to be secure from his creditors, was directed by
 
 THE RISING OF SIR THOMAS WYAT. 311 
 
 his friends to take a lodging " within the liberties of the 
 Fleet," and here his friends sent him every Monday a 
 guinea.* 
 
 THE RISING OF SIR THOMAS WYAT. 
 
 IT is curious to find this event of three centuries since 
 chronicled with as much minuteness as would be re- 
 ported an occurrence of yesterday, in a morning news- 
 paper. Wyat and his followers lay at Deptford until 
 Saturday, the 5th of February 1554, when " this daie 
 before noone all horsemen were by a drom commanded 
 to be at sainct James felde, and the footemen com- 
 manded to be in Fynsbury felde to muster. This day, 
 about iij. of the clocke, sir Thomas Wyat and the 
 Kentyshemen marched forwarde from Debtford tp- 
 wardes London with v. auncientes, being by estimation 
 about ij. thousand men ; which their comyng, so soone 
 as it was percey ved, ther was shot off out of the White 
 tower a vi. or viij. shott ; but myssed them, somtymes 
 shoting over, and somtymes shoting short. After the 
 knowledge thereof once had in London, forthwith the 
 draybridge was cutt downe and the bridge gates shut." 
 The Londoners were preparing. " The mayre and the 
 sheryves harnessyd theymselves, and commanded eche 
 man to shutt in their shoppes and wyndowes, and being 
 redy in harnes to stande every one at his dore, what 
 chance soever might happen." The taking of wares, 
 the running up and down, the weeping women, chil- 
 dren and maids running into houses, and shutting the 
 doors for fear, were great. " So terryble and fearfull 
 
 * Abridged from Walks and Talks about London ; interpolated.
 
 312 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 at the fyrst was Wyat and his armyes comying to the 
 most part of the cytezens," who, the chronicler adds, 
 were not accustomed to " suche incursions to their cyty." 
 Wyat entered into Kent Street, and by St. George's 
 Church into Southwark ; himself and part of his com- 
 pany came down Barmesy (Bermondsey) Street. The 
 people of Southwark did not oppose the new comers, 
 but entertained them. Wyat laid two pieces of ord- 
 nance at the Bridge foot ; another at St. George's, 
 another at Bermondsey Street, &c. As a price had 
 been set upon his head, he had. the name of Thomas 
 Wyat fairly written, and set on his cap. He paid all 
 his men, and saw that they paid the inhabitants ; and 
 his motive in quitting Southwark was to save the 
 place ; for the Lieutenant of the Tower had directed 
 all his great ordnance against Southwark and the 
 church towers of St. Tooley's and St. Marie Overies. 
 
 Wyat retired to Kingston ; and from thence pro- 
 ceeded towards the western part of London, through 
 Brentford. " The quenes scout, apon his retourne to 
 the court, declared their coming to Brainforde, which 
 subden newes was so fearefull that therwith the quene 
 and all the court was wonderfully affryghted. Dromes 
 went thoroughe London at iiij. of the clocke, warninge 
 all soldears to arme themselves and to repaire to 
 Charinge crosse. The quene was once determyned 
 to come to the Tower furthwith, but shortlie after 
 she sende worde she would tarry ther to se the utter- 
 most. Mayny thought she wolde have ben in the 
 felde in person.- Here was no small a-dowe in Lon- 
 don, and likewise the Tower made great preparation 
 of defence. By x. of the clocke, or somewhat more, 
 the erle of Penbroke had set his troopp of horsemen
 
 THE RISING OF SIR THOMAS WYAT. 313 
 
 on the hille in the higheway above the new brige over 
 against saynct James ; his footemen was sett in ij. 
 battailles somewhat lower, and nerer Charinge crosse. 
 At the lane turning downe by the brike wall from 
 Islington-warde he had sett also certayn other horse- 
 men, and he had planted his ordenance apon the hill 
 side. In the meane season Wyat and his company 
 planted his ordenance apon the hill beyonde sainct 
 James, almost over agaynst the park corner ; and him- 
 self, after a few words spoken to his soldears, came 
 downe the olde lane on foote, hard by the courte gate 
 at saincte James's, with iiij. or v. auncyentes; his 
 men marching in goode array. Cutbart Vaughan, 
 and about ij. auncyentes, turned downe towards West- 
 minster. The erle of Pembroke's horsemen hoveryd 
 all this while without moving, untyll all was passed by, 
 saving the tayle, upon which they did sett and cut of. 
 The other marched forwarde, and never stayed or 
 retourned to the ayde of their tayle. * * At Charinge 
 crosse ther stoode the lord chamberlayne, with the 
 garde and a nomber of other, almost a thousande persons, 
 the whiche, upon Wyat's coming, shott at his company, 
 and at last fledd to the court gates, which certayn 
 pursued, and forced them with shott to shyt the court 
 gates against them. In this repulse the said lord 
 chamberlayn and others were so amazed that men cryed 
 Treason ! treason ! in the court, and had thought that 
 the erle of Pembroke, who was assayling the tayle of 
 his enemys, had gon to Wyat, taking his part agaynst 
 the quene. * The said Wyat, with his men, marched 
 still forwarde, all along to Temple barre, also thoroghe 
 Fleete street, along tyll he cam to Ludgate, his men 
 going not in eny goode order or array. * * Thus
 
 314 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 Wyat cam even to Ludgate, and knockyd calling to 
 come in, saying, there was Wyat, whom the quene 
 had graunted their requestes ; but the lorde William 
 Howard standing at the gate, saide, ( A vaunt, traytour ! 
 thou shalt not come in here.' And then Wyat aAvhill 
 stayed, and, as some say, rested him apon a seate [at] 
 the Bellsavage gate ; at last, seing he coulde not come 
 in, and belike being deceaved of the ayde which he 
 hoped out of the cetye, retourned back agayne in 
 arraye towards Charinge crosse, and was never stopped 
 tyll he cam to Temple barre, wher certayn horsemen 
 which cam from the felde met them in the face ; and 
 then begann the fight agayne to wax hote." 
 
 The fate of Wyat and his followers need not be de- 
 tailed : the latter were taken, and thrust into prisons, 
 " the poorest sort" being, in the words of the chro- 
 nicle, " en a hepp in churches." 
 
 THE STOKY OF GEOKGE BARNWELL. 
 
 THE discrepancies in this old London story are so 
 numerous and conflicting as almost to defy adjustment. 
 " The unhappy youth," says Dr. Rimbault, "is said to 
 have figured in the criminal annals of the time of 
 Queen Elizabeth ; but I have never met with any 
 authenticated notice of his trial and condemnation." 
 The story, we need scarcely observe, describes the 
 career of a London apprentice hurried on to ruin and 
 murder by an infamous woman, who at last delivers 
 him up to justice and an ignominious death. These 
 circumstances were dramatised by George Lillo, in 
 his well-known tragedy, the London Merchant ; or, the
 
 THE STORY OF GEORGE BARNWELL. 315 
 
 History of George Barnwell, first acted in 1731 ; and 
 stated to be founded upon the old ballad of George 
 Barnwell, which Bishop Percy says, " was printed, at 
 least, as early as the seventeenth century." In that 
 production, Barnwell's uncle (who is murdered) is 
 described as a wealthy grazier dwelling in Ludlow ; in 
 a wood near which place the ballad also describes the 
 murder to have been committed. This " Tragical 
 Narrative," says Bishop Percy, " seems to relate to a 
 real fact ; but when it happened, I have not been able 
 to discover." The Ludlow Guide Book " notices the 
 circumstance as traditional there, and the very barn 
 and homestead, a short distance on the left before enter- 
 ing Ludlow from the Hereford road, we are told by Dr. 
 Kimbault, are still pointed out as the ancient residence 
 of the victim." 
 
 Lillo's tragedy, with poetical license, makes the scene 
 of the uncle's murder to be within a short distance of 
 London, and tradition places it in the grounds formerly 
 belonging to Dr. Lettsom, and now those of the Gram- 
 mar-school at Camberwell, in Surrey. Maurice, the 
 historian of Hindostan, admits this recognition into his 
 poem of Camberwell Grove, in the following apos- 
 trophe : 
 
 Ye towering elms, on whose majestic brows 
 
 A hundred rolling years have shed their snows, 
 
 Admit me to your dark sequester'd reign, 
 
 To roam with contemplation's studious train ! 
 
 Your haunts I seek, nor glow with other fires 
 
 Than those which Friendship's ardent warmth inspires ; 
 
 No savage murderer with a gleaming blade 
 
 No Barnwell to pollute your sacred shade ! 
 
 Still, the old ballad lays the scene of Barnwell's
 
 316 KOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 dissipation in the metropolis ; in Shoreditch lived Mrs. 
 Millwood, who led him astray: 
 
 George Barnwell, then quoth she, 
 
 Do thou to Shoreditch come, 
 And ask for Mrs. Millwood's house, 
 
 Next door unto the Guii. 
 
 Now, Shoreditch was formerly notorious for the easy 
 character of its women ; and to die in Shoreditch was 
 not a mere metaphorical term for dying in a sewer. 
 ( Cunningham.} Curiously enough, the common notion 
 of Shoreditch being named after Jane Shore, the mis- 
 tress of Edward IV., is a vulgar error perpetrated by 
 a ballad in Percy's Reliques : its notoriously bad cha- 
 racter, in each case, may have led to its being chosen 
 for the poetical locality. Lillo, by transferring the 
 scene from a wood near Ludlow to Camberwell 
 Grove, doubtless added to the popularity of the 
 drama, by the celebrity of the latter site as one of the 
 most beautiful and romantic localities in the neigh- 
 bourhood of the metropolis. 
 
 Lillo, in writing his three plays, George Barnwell, 
 Arden of Fever sham, and Fatal Curiosity, evidently 
 had but one purpose in view, to exhibit the progress 
 from smaller to greater crimes ; to which point he 
 would, of course, pay more attention than to accuracy 
 of locality. Thus, the impure passion of Barnwell, the 
 ill-suppressed attachment of Arden's wife for the lover 
 of her youth, and the impatience under poverty of the 
 Wilmots (in Fatal Curiosity}, are the three beginnings 
 of vice, all of which terminate in murder. Not only is 
 the purpose of these plays the same, but the same 
 measures are adopted in all for its attainment. In each 
 there is a tempter and a tempted : the first determined
 
 THE STORY OF GEORGE BARNWELL. 317 
 
 in vice, the latter rather weak than intrinsically vicious : 
 thus Barnwell is led on by Millwood ; Arden's wife by 
 her paramour, Mosly ; and Wilmot by his wife, Agnes. 
 George Barnwell is the least meritorious in execution : 
 here " inflation knows no bounds ; nature is sunk alto- 
 gether, and the virtuous characters are not human 
 
 O J 
 
 beings, but speakers of moral essays, and those in the 
 worst style. The prose of Barnwell is remarkable : in 
 many places line after line will read as blank verse, 
 which might lead to a surmise that it was originally 
 written in verse, and chopped up into prose ; unless, 
 indeed, the same metrical style may be that which 
 naturally follows from inflated declamation." Never- 
 theless, it was said at the time of the production of 
 Barnwell, that it drew more tears than the rant of 
 Alexander the Great. It attracted attention at once ; 
 for in the Daily Post, Monday, July 5, 1731 (the year 
 of its production), we find : " Last Friday a messenger 
 came from Hampton Court to the play-house, by the 
 Queen's command, for the manuscript of George Sam- 
 well, for Her Majesty's perusal, which Mr. Wilks 
 carried to Hampton Court early on Saturday morning ; 
 and we hear it is to be performed shortly at the theatre 
 in Hampton Court, for the entertainment of the Royal 
 Family," &c. 
 
 To return to the discrepancies of locality. Lillo's 
 drama shows us the culprit, in companionship with his 
 heartless seducer, led from a London prison to the 
 scaffold; and Dr. Rimbault, writing in 1858, tells us 
 that, some few years since, an old parochial document 
 was said to have come to light, showing that George 
 Barnwell had been the last criminal hanged at St. 
 
 O 
 
 Martin's-in-the- Fields, before the Middlesex execu-
 
 318 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 tions were, more generally than before, ordered at 
 Tyburn ; yet, the ballad, of much older date than the 
 play, says that Barnwell was not gibbeted here, but 
 sent " beyond seas," where he subsequently suffered 
 capital punishment for some fresh crime. 
 
 The popularity of the drama on the stage, doubtless, 
 led to its being wrought into a story-book, as is fre- 
 quently done in the present day. Of Barnwell there 
 have been several versions, including pamphlets. In 
 1817, was published a narrative, with great pretension 
 to authority, it being stated in the title-page as " by a 
 Descendant of the Barnwell family." It is entitled, 
 " Memoirs of George Barnwell ; the unhappy subject 
 of Lillo's celebrated Tragedy; derived from the most 
 authentic sources," &c. ; the preface is dated from " St. 
 Gad's, Dec. 21, 1809." This book, extending to 
 some 150 pages, we suspect to be of little or no autho- 
 rity ; it is written in the worst possible style, and its 
 inflation transcends that of the drama itself. The 
 family of the Barnwells are stated to have nourished in 
 the vale of Evesham ; the uncle to have lived at Cam- 
 berwell, in Surrey ; and the Apprentice's master to 
 have been " Mr. Strickland, a very considerable woollen 
 draper in Cheapside." Next we have the Thorowgood 
 and Truman, and Maria, from the drama ; Sarah Mill- 
 wood is " the daughter of a respectable merchant in 
 Bristol ; " her husband loses his wife in a midnight 
 broil ; the widow sees young Barnwell coming out of a 
 banking-house in Lombard-street, she allures him to 
 " her residence in Cannon-street," where, the image of 
 the chaste Maria flitting from George's view, the 
 wicked widow triumphs ; she removes to " a lodging 
 in Moorfields ; he plunders his master's cash-drawer of
 
 THE STORY OF GEORGE BARNWELL. 319 
 
 a hundred-pound note, coaxes his uncle out of money : 
 then we have a borrowing from the ballad George is 
 cautioned by an anonymous letter, and is referred to 
 " Mrs. Millwood, near the Gun, in Shoreditch : " he 
 perpetrates the murder in Camberwell Grove, and his 
 uncle's body is " found by a farmer's servant, and car- 
 ried, with the assistance of some passengers, to an old 
 public-house hard by, which was well known by the 
 sign of the Tiger and the Tabby." Meanwhile, Barn- 
 well's disappearance from his place of business is 
 advertised by his master ; the murderer has fled into 
 Lincolnshire ; he is betrayed to his master by Mill- 
 wood, confesses his guilt, and is " committed to the 
 Marshalsea Prison in Southwark, to take his trial at 
 the next Surrey Assizes." The date of the trial is here 
 given, " 18th of October, 1706, before the Lord Chief 
 Baron Bury and Mr. Justice Powell." Millwood, in 
 her evidence, deposed that she " lived in Shoreditch, 
 next door to the Gun," a suspicious coincidence with 
 the words in the ballad of the previous century. Barn- 
 well w r as found guilty, and executed, according to the 
 above volume, on Kennington Common. To the ac- 
 count of the trial it is added that Lillo, the dramatist, 
 was contemporary with Barnwell, which seems to gain- 
 say its true origin of the story from the old ballad. 
 Bamwell's tragical history has also been made the basis 
 of a novel, in three volumes, by Mr. Thomas Skinner 
 Surr, author of the Winter in London ; in which, how- 
 ever, there is little of the narrative of assumed facts, or 
 regard to the colour of the period : it is almost entirely 
 a work of fiction. 
 
 Not the least remarkable incident of the drama of 
 George Barnwell is the several anecdotes relative to the
 
 320 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 effect produced by its performance on young men who 
 have followed vicious courses, and have been reclaimed 
 by this tragedy. With this view, the play was usually 
 performed at the theatres, on the night after Christmas- 
 day, and on Easter Monday ; but this practice has 
 been for some years discontinued, as it failed to prove 
 attractive. Among the instances of its former eifect 
 is the following, related by Ross, the comedian : 
 
 " In the year 1752, during the Christmas holidays, 
 I played George Barnwell, and the late Mrs. Pritchard 
 played Millwood. Doctor Barrowby, physician to St. 
 Bartholomew's Hospital, told me, he was once sent for 
 by a young gentleman in Great St. Helen's, appren- 
 tice to a very capital merchant. He found him very 
 ill with a slow fever, a heavy hammer pulse that no 
 medicine could touch. The nurse told him he sighed 
 at times so very heavily that she was sure something 
 lay heavily on his mind. The Doctor sent everyone 
 out of the room, and told his patient he was sure that 
 something oppressed his mind and lay so heavy on his 
 spirits that it would be in vain to order him medicine 
 unless he would open his mind freely. After much 
 solicitation on the part of the Doctor, the youth con- 
 fessed there was something lay heavy at his heart, but 
 that he would sooner die than divulge it, as it must be 
 his ruin if it was known. The Doctor assured him, if 
 he would make him his confidant, he would, by every 
 means in his power serve him, and that the secret, if 
 he desired it, should remain so to all the world but to 
 those who might be necessary to relieve him. 
 
 " After much conversation, he told the Doctor he 
 was the second son to a gentleman of good fortune in 
 Hertfordshire, that he had made an improper acquaint^
 
 THE STORY OF GEORGE BARNWELL. 321 
 
 ance with a mistress of a captain of an Indiaman then 
 abroad, that he was within a year of being out of 
 his time, and had been intrusted with cash, drafts, and 
 notes, which he had made free with, to the amount of two 
 hundred pounds ; that going two or three nights before 
 to Drury Lane, to see Ross and Mrs. Pritchard in their 
 characters of George Barnwell and Millwood, he was 
 so forcibly struck that he had not enjoyed a moment's 
 peace since, and wished to die to avoid the shame he 
 saw hanging over him. The Doctor asked him where 
 his father was ? He replied he expected him there 
 every minute, as he was sent for by his master 
 on his being taken so very ill. The Doctor de- 
 sired the young gentleman to make himself per- 
 fectly easy, as he would undertake his father should 
 make all right; and to get his patient in a pro- 
 mising way, assured him, if his father made the 
 least hesitation, he should have the money of him. 
 The father soon arrived : the Doctor took him into 
 another room, and, after explaining the whole cause of 
 his son's illness, begged him to save the honour of his 
 family and the life of his son. The father, with tears 
 in his eyes, gave him a thousand thanks, said he would 
 start to his banker and bring the money. While the 
 father was gone, Doctor Barrowby went to his patient 
 and told him everything would be settled in a few 
 minutes to his ease and satisfaction ; that his father 
 was gone to his banker for the money, and would soon 
 return with peace and forgiveness, and never mention, 
 or even think of it more. 
 
 " What is very extraordinary, the Doctor told me, 
 that in a few minutes after he communicated this news 
 to his patient, upon feeling his pulse, without the help 
 
 VOL. i. y
 
 322 EOMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 of any medicine, he was quite another creature. The 
 father returned with notes to the amount of two 
 hundred pounds, which he put into the son's hands, 
 they wept, kissed, embraced ; the son soon recovered, 
 and lived to be a very eminent merchant. Doctor 
 Barrowby never told me the name, but the story he 
 mentioned often in the green-room of Drury Lane 
 Theatre ; and after telling it one night, when I was 
 standing by, he said to me : ' You have done some 
 good in your profession, more, perhaps, than many a 
 clergyman who preached last Sunday ' for the patient 
 told the Doctor the play raised such horror and con- 
 trition in his soul that he would, if it would please God 
 to raise a friend to extricate him out of that distress, 
 dedicate the rest of his life to religion and virtue. 
 Though I never knew his name, or saw him, to my 
 knowledge, I had, for nine or ten years, at my benefit, 
 a note sealed up, with ten guineas, and these words : 
 ' A tribute of gratitude from one who was highly 
 obliged and saved from ruin by seeing Mr. Ross' 
 performance of Barn well.' 
 
 " I am, dear sir, yours truly, 
 
 " David Eoss." 
 
 The tragic story has not escaped whipping by the 
 satirist, as well as by the pantomimist. James Smith, 
 in one of the " Rejected Addresses," thus happily turns 
 the story into racy burlesque, as " George Barnwell 
 Travestie : " 
 
 George Barnwell stood at the shop-door, 
 
 A customer hoping to find, sir ; 
 
 His apron -was hanging before, 
 
 But the tail of his coat was behind, sir.
 
 THE STORY OF GEORGE BARNWELL. 323 
 
 A lady, so painted and smart, 
 Cried, Sir, I 've exhausted my stock o' late ; 
 I 've got nothing left but a groat 
 Could you give me four penn'orth of chocolate ? 
 Bum ti, &c. 
 
 Her face was rouged up to the eyes, 
 Which made her look prouder and prouder ; 
 His hair stood on end with surprise, 
 And hers with pomatum and powder. 
 The business was soon understood; 
 The lady, who wish'd to be more rich, 
 Cries, Sweet sir, my name is Millwood, 
 And I lodge at the Gunner's in Shoreditch. 
 Bum ti, &c. 
 
 Now nightly he stole out, good lack ! 
 And into her lodging would pop, sir ; 
 And often forgot to come back, 
 Leaving master to shut up the shop, sir. 
 Her beauty his wits did bereave 
 Determined to be quite the crack, O, 
 He lounged at the Adam and Eve, 
 And call'd for his gin and tobacco. 
 
 Hum ti, &c. 
 
 And now for the truth must be told, 
 
 Though none of a 'prentice should speak ill 
 
 He stole from the till all the gold, 
 
 And ate the lump-sugar and treacle. 
 
 In vain did his master exclaim, 
 
 Dear George, don't engage with that dragon ; 
 
 She '11 lead you to sorrow and shame, 
 
 And leave you the devil a rag on. 
 
 Your rum ti, &c. 
 
 George is kicked out of doors, soon spends his last 
 guinea, when Millwood gets angry and remonstrates : 
 
 If ye mean to come here any more, 
 
 Pray come with more cash in your pocket. 
 
 She then suggests making " Nunk y surrender his dibs," 
 and he is equipped for the crime :
 
 324 ROMANCE OF LONDON. 
 
 A pistol he got from his love 
 'T was loaded with powder and bullet ; 
 He trudged off to Camberwell Grove, 
 But wanted the courage to pull it. 
 There 's Nunky as fat as a hog, 
 While I am as lean as a lizard ; 
 Here 's at you, you stingy old dog ! 
 And he whips a long knife in his gizzard. 
 Rum ti, &c. 
 
 All you who attend to my song, 
 A terrible end of the farce shall see, 
 If you join the inquisitive throng 
 That follow'd poor George to the Marshalsea. 
 If Millwood were here, dash my wigs, 
 Quoth he, I would pummel and lam her well ; 
 Had I stuck to my prunes and my figs, 
 I ne'er had stuck Nunky at Camberwell. 
 Bum ti, &c. 
 
 Their bodies were never cut down ; 
 For granny relates with amazement, 
 A witch bore 'em over the town, 
 And hung them on Thorowgood's casement. 
 The neighbours, I 've heard the folks say, 
 The miracle noisily brag on ; 
 And the shop is, to this very day. 
 The sign of the George and the Dragon. 
 Rum ti, &c. 
 
 
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