volume ii. page 958; in the 60th Book and 20th Section. The Greek

text begins, ‘Ἀναχωρησάντων δ’ ἐντεῦθεν τῶν Βρεττανῶν ἐπὶ τὸν Ταμέσαν ποταμὸν,’ [Greek: Anachôrêsantôn d’ enteuthen tôn Brettanôn epi ton Tamesan potamon] &c.; and the Latin--‘_Inde se Britanni ad fluvium Tamesin_.’ I have only to remind you that Dion Cassius flourished about A. D. 230. Before we finally quit Roman London, however, I must make one more historical remark. The inscription on the monument which I quoted from Pannier Alley, is dated August the 27th, 1688; and if even at _that period_,--through all the mutations of the soil, and more than sixteen centuries after the Roman Invasion,--the ground still retained its original altitude, it yet further proves on how admirable a site our ancient London was originally erected:--well worthy, indeed, to be the metropolis of the world. This also is remarked by honest Bagford, in his work already cited, where, at page lxxii., he says,--‘For many of our ancient kings and nobility took delight in the situation of the old Roman buildings, which were always very fine and pleasant, the Romans being very circumspect in regard to their settlements, having always an eye to some river, spring, wood, &c. for the convenience of life, particularly an wholesome air. And this no doubt occasioned the old Monks, Knights Templars, and, after them, the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, as also the Friars, to settle in most of the Roman buildings, as well private as public, which thing, if duly considered, will be found to be a main reason why we have so few remains of them.’

“As I have always considered that the Romans had no more to do with Britain, than Joe the waiter here would have in a Conclave of Cardinals, I will not trouble you with any sketch of the dress or manners of the ferryman and his customers, during their government. Indeed, as a native of London, I always lament over it as the time of our captivity; and so I shall hasten on to the tenth century, when our Runic Ancestors from Gothland were settled in Britain;--when courage was the chiefest virtue, and the rudest hospitality----”

“Have pity upon me, my excellent Mr. Postern,” interrupted I, “for I am naturally impatient at reflections; if you love me, then, give me scenery without meditations, and history without a moral.”

“Truly, Sir,” said he, “I was oblivious, for I’d got upon a favourite topic of mine, the worth of our Saxon fore-fathers; but we’ll cut them off short by another draught of the sack-posset, and take up again with the establishment of a ferry by one Master Audery, in the year nine hundred and ninety----Ah! see now, my memory has left me for the precise year, but nevertheless, Mr. Geoffrey Barbican, my service to you.” When he had passed me the tankard, after what I considered a very reasonable draught, Mr. Postern thus continued.

“I hold it right, my friend, to mix these convivialia with our antiquarian discussions, because I know that they are not only ancient, but in a manner peculiar to this part of the water-side; for we find Stephanides, _Stephanus ab Stephano_, as I may jocularly call him, whom I before quoted, saying at folio 32, ‘_Præterea est in Londonia super ripam fluminis_,’ &c. but we’ll give the quotation in plain English. ‘And moreover, on the banks of the river, besides the wine sold in ships’--that is to say, foreign wines of Anjou, Auxere, and Gascoigne, though even then we had some Saxon and Rhenish wines well worth the drinking,--‘besides the wines sold in ships and vaults, there is a public eating-house, or cook’s shop. Here, according to the season, you may find victuals of all kinds, roasted, baked, fried, or boiled. Fish, large and small, with coarse viands for the poorer sort, and more delicate ones for the rich, such as venison, fowls, and small birds. In case a friend should arrive at a Citizen’s house, much wearied with his journey, and chuses not to wait, an-hungered as he is, for the buying and cooking of meat,

The water’s served, the bread’s in baskets brought,

_Virg. Æn._ i. 705.

and recourse is immediately had to the bank above-mentioned, where every thing desirable is instantly procured. No number so great, of knights or strangers, can either enter the city at any hour of day or night, or leave it, but all may be supplied with provisions, so that those have no occasion to fast too long, nor these to depart the city without their dinner. To this place, if they be so disposed, they resort, and there they regale themselves, every man according to his abilities. Those who have a mind to indulge, need not to hanker after sturgeon, nor a guinea-fowl, nor a gelinote de bois,’--which some call red-game, and others a godwit--‘for there are delicacies enough to gratify their palates. It is a public eating-house, and is both highly convenient and useful to the city, and is a clear proof of its civilization.’

“Thus speaks Fitz-Stephen of the time of Henry II. between the years 1170 and 1182; and if you look but two centuries later, you shall find that John Holland, Duke of Exeter, held his Inn here at Cold Harbour, and gave to his half-brother, King Richard the Second, a sumptuous dinner, in 1397. Then too, when this spot became the property of the merry Henry Plantagenet, Prince of Wales, by the gift of Henry the Fourth, the same King filled his cellars with ‘twenty casks and one pipe of red wine of Gascoigne, free of duty.’ This you have on the authority of John Stow, on the one part, in his ‘_Survey of London_,’ the best edition by John Strype, &c. London, 1754, folio, volume i. page 523; and of Master Thomas Pennant, on the other, in his ‘_Account of London_,’ 2nd edition, London, 1791, 4to, page 330.”

“Aye, Master Postern,” said I, “and that same Cold Harbour is not the less dear to me, forasmuch as Stow noteth, in the very place which you have just now cited, that Richard the Third gave the Messuage, and all its appurtenances, to John Wrythe, Garter Principal King of Arms, and the rest of the Royal Heralds and Pursuivants, in 1485.”--“True, Mr. Geoffrey, true,” answered my visitor; “and you may remember that here also, in these very Shades, did King Charles the merry, regale incognito; and here, too, came Addison and his galaxy of wits to finish a social evening. Then, but a little above to the North, was the famous market of East Cheap; of which our own Stow speaks in his book before cited, page 503, quoting the very rare ballad of ‘_London Lickpenny_,’ composed by Dan John Lydgate, of which a copy in the old chronicler’s own hand writing, is yet extant in the Harleian Manuscripts, No. 542, article 17, folio 102, of which stanza 12 says,--

‘Then I hied me into Estchepe; One cried ribes of befe, and many a pie, Pewtar potts they clatteryd on a heape, Ther was harpe, pipe, and sawtry, Ye by cokke, nay by cokke, some began to cry, Some sange of Jenken and Julian, to get themselves mede; Full fayne I wold hade of that mynstralsie But for lacke of money I cowld not spede!’

“Lydgate, you know, died in the year 1440, at the age of sixty. In the present day, indeed, we have only the indications of this festivity in the names of the ways leading down to, or not far from, the river; as, Pudding Lane, Fish Street Hill, the Vine-tree, or Vintry, Bread-street,----”

“Hold! hold! my dear Mr. Barnaby,” interrupted I, “what on earth has all this long muster-roll of gluttony to do with London Bridge? You are, as it were, endeavouring to prove, that yonder is the moon lighting the waters; for certes, it is a self-evident truth, that the citizens of London have from time immemorial been mighty trencher-men; nay, if I remember me rightly, your own favourite Stephanides says, ‘The only plagues of London are, immoderate drinking of idle fellows, and often fires:’ so _that_ we’ll take for granted, and get on to the Bridge.”

“You are in the right,” answered Mr. Postern; “the passage begins ‘_Solæ pestes Londoniæ_,’ &c. at folio 42, and truly I wished but to shew you how proper a place these Shades are to be convivial in; but now we will but just touch upon the Saxon Ferry and Wooden Bridge, and then come at once to the first stone one, founded by the excellent Peter of Colechurch, in the year 1176. I would you could but have seen the curious boat in which, for many years, Audery the Ship-wight, as the Saxons called him, rowed his fare over those restless waters. It was in form very much like a crescent laid upon its back, only the sharp horns turned over into a kind of scroll; and when it was launched, if the passengers did not trim the barque truly, there was some little danger of its tilting over, for it was only the very centre of the keel that touched the water. But our shipman had also another wherry, for extra passengers, and that had the appearance of a blanket gathered up at each end, whilst those within looked as if they were about to be tossed in it. His oars were in the shape of shovels, or an ace of spades stuck on the end of a yard measure; though one of them rather seemed as if he were rowing with an arrow, having the barb broken off, and the flight held downwards. It is nearly certain, that at this period there was no barrier across the Thames; for you may remember how the ‘_Saxon Chronicle_,’ sub anno 993, tells you that the Dane Olaf, Anlaf, or Unlaf, ‘_mid thrym et hundnigentigon scipum to Stane_,’--which is to say, that ‘he sailed with three hundred and ninety ships to Staines, which he plundered without, and thence went to Sandwich.’

“Before I leave speaking of this King Olaf, however, I wish you to observe the paction which he made with the English King Ethelred, for we shall find him hereafter closely connected with the history of London Bridge. The same authority, and under the same year and page, tells you that, after gaining the battle of Maldon, and the death of Alderman Britnoth, peace was made with Anlaf, ‘and the King received him at Episcopal hands, by the advice of Siric, Bishop of Canterbury, and Elfeah of Winchester.’ On page 171, in the year 994, you also find this peace more solemnly confirmed in the following passage. ‘Then sent the King after King Anlaf, Bishop Elfeah, and Alderman Ethelwerd, and hostages being left with the ships, they led Anlaf with great pomp to the King, at Andover. And King Ethelred received him at Episcopal hands, and honoured him with royal presents. In return Anlaf promised, as he also performed, that he never again would come in a hostile manner to England.’ I quote, as usual, from the best edition of this invaluable record by Professor Ingram, London, 1823, 4to. It is generally believed, however, that the year following Anlaf’s invasion, namely 994, there was built a low Wooden Bridge, which crossed the Thames at St. Botolph’s Wharf yonder, where the French passage vessels are now lying; and a rude thing enough it was, I’ll warrant; built of thick rough-hewn timber planks, placed upon piles, with moveable platforms to allow the Saxon vessels to pass through it Westward. A Bridge of any kind is not so small a concern but what one might suppose you could avoid running against it, and yet William of Malmesbury, the Benedictine Monk, who lived in the reign of King Stephen, and died in 1142, says, that, in 994, King Sweyn of Denmark, the Invader, ran foul of it with his Fleet. This you find mentioned in his book, ‘_De Gestis Regum Anglorum_,’ the best edition, London, 1596, folio:--though, by the way, the preferable one is called the Frankfurt reprint of 1601, as it contains all the errata of the London text, and adds a good many more of its own; for I am much of the mind of Bishop Nicolson, and Sir Henry Spelman, who observe that the Germans committed abundance of faults with the English words. In this record, which is contained in Sir Henry Savile’s ‘_Rerum Anglicarum Scriptores Post Bedam_,’ of the foregoing date and size, at folio 38^b, is the passage beginning ‘_Mox ad Australes regiones_,’ _&c._ of which this is the purport.

“‘Some time after, the Southern parts, with the inhabitants of Oxford and Winchester, were brought to honour his’--that is to say King Sweyn’s--‘laws: the Citizens of London alone, with their lawful King’--Ethelred the Second--‘betook themselves within the walls, having securely closed the gates. Against their ferocious assailants, the Danes, they were supported by their virtue, and the hope of glory. The Citizens rushed forward even to death for their liberty; for none could think himself secure of the future if the King were deserted, in whose life he committed his own: so that although the conflict was valiant on both sides, yet the Citizens had the victory from the justness of their cause; every one endeavouring to shew, throughout this great work, how sweet he estimated those pains which he bore for him. The enemy was partly overthrown; and part was destroyed in the River Thames, over which, in their precipitation and fury, they never looked for the Bridge.’

“I know very well that the truth of this circumstance is much questioned by Master Maitland, at page 43 of his ‘_History of London_,’ continued by the Rev. John Entick, London, 1772, folio, volume i.; wherein he denies that any historian mentions a Bridge at London, in the incursion of Anlaf or Sweyn; and asserts that the loss of the army of the latter was occasioned ‘by his attempting to pass the River, without enquiring after Ford, or Bridge.’ He affirms too, that Stow mistakes the account given by William of Malmesbury; and that the Monk himself distorts his original authority in saying that the invaders had not a regard to the Bridge. Now, if, as the margin of Maitland’s History states, the Saxon Chronicle were _that_ authority, the Library-keeper of Malmesbury had no greater right to speak as Maitland does, than he had for using those words which I have already translated,--‘part were destroyed in the River Thames, over which, in their precipitation and fury, they never looked for the Bridge:’ for the words of the Saxon Chronicle, at page 170, are, in reality,--‘And they closely besieged the City and would fain have set it on fire, but they sustained more harm and evil than they ever supposed that the Citizens could inflict on them. The Holy Mother of God’--for the Invasion took place on her Nativity, September the 8th,--‘on that day considered the Citizens, and ridded them of their enemies.’ Here then is no word of a Bridge, nor, indeed, does any Historian record the event as William of Malmesbury does. _Lambarde_--whom I shall quote anon,--when he relates it, cites the ‘_Chronicle of Peterborough_,’ and the ‘_Annals of Margan_,’ but neither of them have the word Bridge upon their pages. He, most probably, took this circumstance from Marianus Scotus, a Monk of Mentz, in Germany, who wrote an extensive History of England and Europe ending in 1083, but, of this, only the German part has been printed, although it was amazingly popular in manuscript.

“We have, however, an earlier description of London Bridge in a state of warlike splendour, than is commonly imagined, or at least referred to, by most Antiquaries; and that too from a source of no inconsiderable authority: for the learned old Icelander Snorro Sturlesonius, who wrote in the 13th century, and who was assassinated in 1241, on page 90 of that rather rare work by the Rev. James Johnstone, entitled ‘_Antiquitates Celto-Scandicæ_,’ Copenhagen, 1786, quarto, gives the following very interesting particulars of the Battle of Southwark, which took place in the year 1008, in the unhappy reign of Ethelred II., surnamed the Unready.

“‘They’--that is the Danish forces--‘first came to shore at London, where their ships were to remain, and the City was taken by the Danes. Upon the other side of the River, is situate a great market called Southwark,’--Sudurvirke in the original--‘which the Danes fortified with many defences; framing, for instance, a high and broad ditch, having a pile or rampart within it, formed of wood, stone, and turf, with a large garrison placed there to strengthen it. This, the King Ethelred,’--his name, you know, is Adalradr in the original,--‘attacked and forcibly fought against; but by the resistance of the Danes it proved but a vain endeavour. There was, at that time, a Bridge erected over the River between the City and Southwark, so wide, that if two carriages met they could pass each other. At the sides of the Bridge, at those parts which looked upon the River, were erected Ramparts and Castles that were defended on the top by penthouse-bulwarks and sheltered turrets, covering to the breast those who were fighting in them: the Bridge itself was also sustained by piles which were fixed in the bed of the River. An attack therefore being made, the forces occupying the Bridge fully defended it. King Ethelred being thereby enraged, yet anxiously desirous of finding out some means by which he might gain the Bridge, at once assembled the Chiefs of the army to a conference on the best method of destroying it. Upon this, King Olaf engaged,’--for you will remember he was an ally of Ethelred,--‘that if the Chiefs of the army would support him with their forces, he would make an attack upon it with his ships. It being ordained then in council, that the army should be marched against the Bridge, each one made himself ready for a simultaneous movement both of the ships and of the land forces.’

“I must here entreat your patience, Mr. Geoffrey Barbican, to follow the old Norwegian through the consequent battle; for although he gives us no more scenery of London Bridge, yet he furnishes us with a minute account of its destruction, and of a conflict upon it, concerning which all our own historians are, in general, remarkably silent. I say too, with Falstaff, ‘play out the play;’ for I have yet much to say on the behalf of that King Olaf, who, we shall find, is the patron protector of yonder Church at the South-East corner of London Bridge, since he died a Saint and a Martyr. Snorro Sturleson then, having cleared the way for the forcing of London Bridge on the behalf of King Ethelred, thus begins his account of the action, entitling it, in the Scandinavian tongue, Orrosta, or the fight. ‘King Olaf, having determined on the construction of an immense scaffold, to be formed of wooden poles and osier twigs, set about pulling down the old houses in the neighbourhood for the use of the materials. With these _Vinea_, therefore,’--as such defences were anciently termed--‘he so enveloped his ships, that the scaffolds extended beyond their sides; and they were so well supported, as to afford not only a sufficient space for engaging sword in hand, but also a base firm enough for the play of his engines, in case they should be pressed upon from above. The Fleet, as well as the forces, being now ready, they rowed towards the Bridge, the tide being adverse; but no sooner had they reached it, than they were violently assailed from above with a shower of missiles and stones, of such immensity that their helmets and shields were shattered, and the ships themselves very seriously injured. Many of them, therefore, retired. But Olaf the King and his Norsemen having rowed their ships close up to the Bridge, made them fast to the piles with ropes and cables, with which they strained them, and the tide seconding their united efforts, the piles gradually gave way, and were withdrawn from under the Bridge. At this time, there was an immense pressure of stones and other weapons, so that the piles being removed, the whole Bridge brake down, and involved in it’s fall the ruin of many. Numbers, however, were left to seek refuge by flight: some into the City, others into Southwark. And now it was determined to attack Southwark: but the Citizens seeing their River Thames occupied by the enemy’s navies, so as to cut off all intercourse that way with their interior provinces, were seized with fear, and having surrendered the City, received Ethelred as King. In remembrance of this expedition thus sang Ottar Suarti.’

“And now, Sir, as this is, without any doubt, the first song which was ever made about London Bridge, I shall give you the Norse Bard’s verses in Macpherson’s Ossianic measure, as that into which they most readily translate themselves; premising that the ensuing are of immeasurably greater authenticity.

‘And thou hast overthrown their Bridges, Oh thou Storm of the Sons of Odin! skilful and foremost in the Battle! For thee was it happily reserved to possess the land of London’s winding City. Many were the shields which were grasped sword in hand to the mighty increase of the conflict; but by thee were the iron-banded coats of mail broken and destroyed.’

And ‘besides this,’ continues Snorro, ‘he also sang:’

‘Thou, thou hast come, Defender of the Earth, and hast restored into his Kingdom the exiled Ethelred. By thine aid is he advantaged, and made strong by thy valour and prowess: Bitterest was that Battle in which thou didst engage. Now, in the presence of thy kindred the adjacent lands are at rest, where Edmund, the relation of the country and the people, formerly governed.’

‘Besides this, these things are thus remembered by Sigvatus.’

‘That was truly the sixth fight which the mighty King fought with the men of England: wherein King Olaf,--the Chief himself a Son of Odin, valiantly attacked the Bridge at London. Bravely did the swords of the Völscs defend it, but through the trench which the Sea-Kings, the men of Vikes-land, guarded, they were enabled to come, and the plain of Southwark was full of his tents.’

“Such were the martial feats of King Olafus, upon the water; and now let us turn to his more pious and peaceful actions upon the land, that caused the men of Southwark to found to his honour yonder fane, which still bears his name and consecrates his memory. And in so doing, I pray you to observe that I am not wandering from the subject before us; for that Church is one of the Southern boundaries of London Bridge, and, as such, possesses some interest in its history. The other, on the same side, is the Monastery of St. Mary Overies, of the which I shall hereafter discourse; whilst the two Northern ones are St. Magnus’ Church, and that abode of festivity which rises above us, Fishmongers’ Hall, of which the story will be best noticed when we shall have arrived at the time of the Great Fire. There are within the City walls and Diocese of London, three Churches dedicated to the Norwegian King and Martyr, St. Olaf; and in consequence, Richard Newcourt, in his ‘_Repertorium Ecclesiasticum Parochiale Londinense_,’ which I shall hereafter notice, volume i. page 509, takes occasion to speak somewhat of his history; collected, most probably, from Adam of Bremen’s ‘_Historia Ecclesiarum Hamburgensis et Bremensis_.’ He was the Son of Herald Grenscius, Prince of Westfold, in Norway, and was celebrated for having expelled the Swedes from that country, and recovering Gothland. It was after these exploits that he came to England, and remained here as an ally of King Ethelred for three years, expelling the Danes from the Cities, Towns, and Fortresses, and ultimately returning home with great spoil. He was recalled to England by Emma of Normandy, the surviving Queen of his friend, to assist her against Knute; but as he found a paction concluded between that King and the English, he soon withdrew, and was then created King of Norway by the voice of the nation. To strengthen his throne, he married the daughter of the King of Swedeland; but now his strict adherence to the Christian faith, and his active zeal for the spread of it, caused him to be molested by domestic wars, as well as by the Danes abroad: though these he regarded not, since he piously and valiantly professed, that he had rather lose his life and Kingdom than his faith in Christ. Upon this, the men of Norway complained to Knute, King of Denmark, and afterwards of England, charging Olaf with altering their laws and customs, and entreating his assistance; but the Norwegian hero was supported by a young soldier named Amandus, King of Swethland, who had been bred up under Olaf, and taught to fight by him. He, at first, overthrew the Dane in an engagement; but Knute, having bribed the adverse fleet, procured three hundred of his ships to revolt, and then attacking Olaf, forced him to retreat into his own country, where his subjects received him as an enemy. He fled from the disloyal Pagans to Jerislaus, King of Russia, who was his brother-in-law, and remained with him till the better part of his subjects, in the commotions of the Kingdom, calling him to resume his crown, he went at the head of an army; when, whilst one party hailed his return with joy, the other, urged by Knute, opposed him by force, and in a disloyal battle at Stichstadt, to the North of Drontheim, says Newcourt, page 510, with considerable pathos, they ‘murthered this holy friend of Christ, this most innocent King, in Anno 1028,’ but he should have said 1030. His feast is commemorated on the fourth of the Kalends of August, that is to say on the 29th of July; for Grimkele, Bishop of Drontheim, his capital City, a pious priest whom he had brought from England to assist him in establishing Christianity in Norway, commanded that he should be honoured as a Saint, with the title of Martyr. His body was buried in Drontheim, and was not only found undecayed in 1098, but even in 1541, when the Lutherans plundered his shrine of its gold and jewels; for it was esteemed the greatest treasure in the North. Such was St. Olave, to whose memory no less than four Churches in London are dedicated; for, says Newcourt, he ‘had well deserved, and was well beloved of our English Nation, as well for his friendship for assisting them against the Danes, as for his holy and Christian life, by the erection of many Churches which to his honourable memory they built and dedicated to him.’ I notice only one of these, because it is contiguous to London Bridge, which is called St. Olave, Southwark. It stands, as you very well know, on the Northern side of Tooley Street; and although many people would think St. Tooley to be somewhat of a questionable patron for a Church, yet I would remind you that it was only the more usual ancient English name of King Olave, as we are told on good authority, by the Rev. Alban Butler in his ‘_Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs, and other principal Saints_,’ London, 1812, 8vo. volume vii. where also, on pages 378-380, you have many further particulars of the life of this heroic Prince. You may also meet with him under a variety of other names, as Anlaf, Unlaf, Olaf Haraldson, Olaus, and Olaf Helge, or Olave the Holy. Of his Church in Southwark I will tell you nothing as to its foundation, but remark only that its antiquity is proved by William Thorn’s ‘_Chronicle of the Acts of the Abbots of St. Austin’s Canterbury_;’ which is printed in Roger Twysden’s ‘_Historiæ Anglicanæ Scriptores Decem_;’ London, 1652, folio. Thorn, you may remember, was a Monk of St. Augustine’s, in 1380; and on column 1932 of the volume now referred to, he gives the copy of a grant from John, Earl of Warren, to Nicholas, the Abbot of St. Augustine’s, giving to his Monastery all the estate which it held in ‘Southwark standing upon the River Thames, between the Breggehouse and the Church of Saint Olave.’ By this we know it to be ancient, for that grant was made in the year 1281. And now I will say no more of St. Olave, but that a very full and interesting memoir of him, and his miracles, is to be found in that gigantic work entitled the ‘_Acta Sanctorum_,’ Antwerp, 1643-1786, 50 volumes, folio, and yet incomplete, for the year descends to October only:--see the seventh volume of July, pages 87-120.

“And now let me chaunt you his Requiem, by giving you, from the same authority, a free translation of the concluding stanza of that Latin Hymn to his memory, which Johannes Bosch tells us was inserted in the Swedish Missal, and sung on his festival; it is in the same measure as the original.

‘Martyr’d King! in triumph shining, Guardian Saint, whom bliss is ’shrining; To thy spirit’s sons inclining From a sinful world’s confining By thy might, Oh set them free! Carnal bonds are round them ’twining, Fiendish arts are undermining, All with deadly plagues are pining, But thy power and prayers combining, Safely shall we rise to thee!--AMEN.’

“One of the last notices of London Bridge which occurs in the days of King Ethelred, and I place it here because it is without date, is in his Laws, as they are given in the ‘_Chronicon_’ of John Brompton, Abbot of Jorvaulx, in the City of York, who lived about the year 1328. His work was printed in Twysden’s Scriptores, which I last quoted; and at column 897, in the xxiii. Chapter of the Statutes there given, is the following passage.

“‘_Concerning the Tolls given at Bylyngesgate._

‘If a small ship come up to Bilynggesgate, it shall give one halfpenny of toll: if a greater one which hath sails, one penny: if a small ship, or the hulk of a ship come thereto, and shall lie there, it shall give four pence for the toll. For ships which are filled with wood, one log of wood shall be given as toll. In a week of bread’--perhaps a festival time, ‘toll shall be paid for three days; the Lord’s day, Tuesday, and Thursday. Whoever shall come to the Bridge, in a boat in which there are fish, he himself being a dealer, shall pay one halfpenny for toll; and if it be a larger vessel, one penny.’

“Concerning Brompton’s translation of these laws, Bishop Nicolson, in his ‘_English, Scotch, and Irish Historical Libraries_,’ London, 1736, folio, page 65, says that they are pretty honestly done, and given at large: but they may be seen with several variations and additions very fairly written in the collections of Sir Simonds D’Ewes, preserved with the Harleian Manuscripts in the British Museum, No. 596. John Brompton, however, at column 891 of his Chronicle, tells us one circumstance more concerning London Bridge before the Invasion of Knute; for he says, under the year 1013, ‘After this, many people were overthrown in the Thames, at London, not caring to go by the Bridge;’ that is to say, because it had been broken in the two recent battles as I have already told you, and there were also erected several fortifications about the City.’

“Perhaps it was the error of Sweyn in getting his Fleet foul of London Bridge, which made Knute the Dane, his Son, go so laboriously to work with the Thames, upon his Invasion in 1016; and I shall give you this very wonderful story in the words of the Saxon Chronicle, page 197. ‘Then came the ships to Greenwich, and, within a short interval, to London; where they sank a deep ditch on the South side, and dragged their ships to the West side of the Bridge. Afterwards they trenched the City without, so that no man could go in or out, and often fought against it; but the Citizens bravely withstood them.’ There are some who doubt this story, but honest William Maitland, who loved to get to the bottom of every thing, as he went sounding about the river for Cæsar’s Ford, also set himself to discover proofs of Knute’s Trench: and you may remember that he tells us, in his work which I have already cited, volume i. page 35, that this artificial water-course began at the great wet-dock below Rotherhithe, and passing through the Kent Road, continued in a crescent form to Vauxhall, and fell again into the Thames at the lower end of Chelsea Reach. The proofs of this hypothesis were great quantities of fascines of hazels, willows, and brushwood, pointing northward, and fastened down by rows of stakes, which were found at the digging of Rotherhithe Dock in 1694; as well as numbers of large oaken planks and piles, also found in other parts.

“Florence of Worcester, who, you will recollect, wrote in 1101, and died in 1119, in his ‘_Chronicon ex Chronicis_,’ best edition, London, 1592, small 4to. page 413; and the famous old Saxon Chronicle, page 237; also both mention the easy passage of the rapacious Earl Godwin, as he passed Southwark in the year 1052. The tale is much the same in each, but perhaps the latter is the best authority, and it runs thus. ‘And Godwin stationed himself continually before London, with his Fleet, until he came to Southwark; where he abode some time, until the flood came up. When he had arranged his whole expedition, then came the flood, and they soon weighed anchor and steered through the Bridge by the South side.’ This relation is also supported by Roger Hoveden, in his Annals, Part I. in ‘_Rerum Anglicarum Scriptores post Bedam_,’ by Sir H. Savile, folio 253^b, line 41.

“And now, worthy Mr. Barbican, before we enter upon the conjectures and disputes relating to the real age and founders of the first Wooden Bridge over the Thames at London, let me give you a toast, closely connected with it, in this last living relique of old Sir John Falstaff. You must know, my good Sir, that when the Church-Wardens and vestry of St. Mary Overies, on the Bankside yonder, meet for conviviality, one of their earliest potations is to the memory of their Church’s Saint and the patroness who feeds them, under the familiar name of ‘_Old Moll!_’ and therefore, as we are now about to speak of them and their pious foundation most particularly, you will, I doubt not, pledge me heartily to the Immortal Memory of Old Moll!”

“I very much question,” returned I, “if either the good foundress of the Church, or she to whom it was dedicated,--if Mary the Saint, or Mary the Sinner,--were ever addressed by so unceremonious an epithet in their lives; but, however, as it’s a parochial custom, and your wish, here’s Prosperity to St. Saviour’s Church, and the Immortal Memory of Old Moll!” Mr. Postern having made a low bow of acknowledgment for my compliance, thus continued.

“I have made it evident then, and, indeed, it is agreed to on all sides, that there _was_ a Wooden Bridge over the Thames, at London, at least as early as the year 1052; and Maitland, at page 44 of his History, is inclined to believe that it was erected between the years 993 and 1016, at the public cost, to prevent the Danish incursions up the River. John Stow, however, in volume i., page 57, of his ‘_Survey_,’ attributes the building of the first Wooden Bridge over the Thames, at London, to the pious Brothers of St. Mary’s Monastery, on the Bankside. He gives you this account on the authority of Master Bartholomew Fowle, _alias_ Fowler, _alias_ Linsted, the last Prior of St. Mary Overies; who, surrendering his Convent on the 14th of October, 1540,--in the 30th year of Henry VIII.,--had a pension assigned him of £100 per Annum, which it is well known, that he enjoyed until 1553. This honest gentleman you find spoken of in John Stevens’s ‘_Supplement to Sir William Dugdale’s Monasticon Anglicanum_,’ London, 1723, folio,