Memorials of Old London. Volume 1 (of 2)
Chapter 10
The point of most importance, however, is not the mere verbal explanation adopted in technical handbooks, but the characteristics of this kind of structure, differentiating it from those built up from the foundations of one species of material, such as stone, or brick, or what-not.
The following may be regarded as the essential features of half-timber houses or timber-framed houses (for the terms are practically synonymous):
(1) The foundations and the lower parts of the walls, sometimes up to the sills of the ground-floor windows, are of stone or brickwork. Above this the house is a timber structure as far as its main outline and its sustaining parts are concerned, whatever may be the character of the material with which the intervening spaces are filled.
(2) In old buildings of this kind each range or floor was made to project somewhat beyond that below it, producing what are technically termed over-sailing storeys. The advantages of this kind of construction were manifold. It gave to rooms on the upper floor or floors greater dimensions than those on the ground floor. It also imparted structural balance, and afforded a convenient opportunity of strengthening the whole structure by means of external brackets. Moreover, each overhanging or over-sailing storey tended to shelter from the weather the storey below it. The principle of over-sailing storeys was entirely due to the use of timber in house construction.
(3) Perhaps the chief distinguishing mark of half-timber construction is that the bases of the walls are always constructed of materials which are not damaged by damp in the ground; whilst the upper part, comprising the main body of the house, is constructed of dry timbers so arranged as to be free from rain, and none of the timbers were near enough to the ground to be injured by the dampness arising from it. The Anglo-Saxon houses, which are believed to have been timber-built structures, were probably not furnished with foundations and dwarf walls of stone or brick, and for that reason their destruction, by the damp rising from the ground through the interstices of the timbers, was rapid and complete.
The use of half-timber work in the construction of London houses indicates a desire to make the greatest possible use of the space at the disposal of the builder. The repeated use of over-sailing storey above over-sailing storey indicates quite clearly that the idea was not to obtain structural stability so much as additional space.
There is no aspect of the ancient city of London more picturesque than this constant multiplication of projecting storeys, and perhaps there was no more unwholesome or insanitary plan possible than this, which effectually excluded daylight and fresh air, keeping the streets damp and muddy, and rendering the whole atmosphere unsavoury. Indeed, the constant visitations London received in the form of pestilence is to be referred to this source alone; and much as every one must regret the loss of the picturesque old houses, with their projecting storeys, their irregular gables, and their red roofs, it must be admitted that one of the greatest blessings London ever received, in the direction of sanitary improvement, was the Great Fire of 1666, which swept away the great bulk of the wooden houses in the City.
After the fire, the original arrangement of the streets, as to their general direction, was restored, but of course they were made wider and more commodious. Indeed, it is not difficult to make out much of the course of the ancient wall from an examination of the disposition of the streets as they now exist. Such well-marked thoroughfares as London Wall, Wormwood Street, Camomile Street, Bevis Marks, Jewry Street, Houndsditch, Minories, and others indicate, internally and externally, the course of the wall, and at some points, particularly Trinity Square, London Wall, and Newgate, actual fragments are still visible. As has already been explained, the wall is mainly of Roman workmanship, but its embattled crest, of which a fragment _in situ_ may be seen, was built or renewed in the Middle Ages.
In the wholesale destruction wrought by the Great Fire so much perished, and, as a consequence, so much was rebuilt that one looks in vain for a specimen of a mediæval house constructed of wood within the bounds of the city. It is because of this that Crosby Place, a domestic dwelling of the fifteenth century and of the most important class, was so highly valued, not alone by antiquaries, but by all who love mediæval London.
Until a comparatively recent date there were some wooden houses covered with weather-boarding at Cripplegate. These were examples of the type of house erected immediately after the Great Fire. Others, somewhat less picturesque, still remain between Cannon Street and the river.
A remarkable group of timber houses, presumably of about the same date, exists in and immediately adjacent to the narrow street at Smithfield known as the Cloth Fair. Although they present no particular feature of architectural merit, they remain as an extremely interesting group of old wooden houses with over-sailing storeys and picturesque gables. The street, by reason of its very narrowness, looks old, and, notwithstanding the various reparations and rebuildings which have been carried out at the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, and in spite of the many other changes which have been carried out in the neighbourhood, the Cloth Fair remains to-day a veritable "bit" of old London as it was pretty generally in the seventeenth century.
The accompanying views, reproduced from recent photographs, represent the general appearance of the houses, although it is somewhat difficult to get anything like a clear picture in such a dark and narrow street.
A little way out of the City we have the remarkably picturesque half-timbered buildings of Staple Inn; and in the Strand, near the entrance to the Temple, there was once a group of wooden houses, one of which, popularly called Cardinal Wolsey's Palace, has been rescued from destruction, thanks to the action of the London County Council.
OLD ST. PAUL'S
No account of mediæval London, however brief and partial, could be considered adequate which did not include some reference to Old St. Paul's. One of the greatest glories of London in the old days was its cathedral church, which, in contradistinction from the earlier edifice and from that which has superseded it, we now familiarly designate "Old St. Paul's."
It must have been a church calculated to inspire the admiration, veneration, and pride of Londoners. Its lofty spire, covered with ornamental lead, rose high above every other building near it. It dominated the City and all the surrounding district. The spire itself was over two hundred feet high, and, perched upon a lofty tower, it rose about five hundred feet into the blue sky. The few old views which give a picture of St. Paul's before the storm of 1561 clearly show the magnificent proportions of the spire.
At the east end, a most beautiful and well-proportioned composition was the famous rose-window, forty feet in diameter, referred to as a familiar object by Chaucer.
The magnificent Norman nave, which well deserved admiration on account of its architectural merit, acquired even greater celebrity under the designation of Paul's Walk as a famous meeting-place and promenade of fashionable folk.
Here bargaining and dealing were carried on openly and unchecked. Many English writers refer to this extraordinary desecration of a consecrated building, and from them we learn that the trading carried on in Paul's Walk included simony and chaffering for benefices. Chaucer, in the prologue to his _Canterbury Tales_, when describing the parson, writes:--
"He sette not his Benefice to hire, And lette his shepe accombred in the mire, And ran unto London, unto S. Paules To seken him a Chanterie for soules, Or with a Brotherhede to be withold But dwelt at home, and kept well his folde."
The expression "to dine with Duke Humphrey," applied to persons who, being unable either to procure a dinner by their own money or from the favour of their friends, walk about and loiter during the dinner-time, had its origin in one of the aisles of St. Paul's, which was called Duke Humphrey's Walk: not that there ever was in reality a cenotaph there to the Duke's memory, who, as everyone knows, was buried at St. Albans, in Hertfordshire, but because, says Stow, ignorant people mistook the fair monument of Sir John Beauchamp, who died in 1358, and which was in the south side of the body of the church, for that of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester.
Perhaps one of the most vivid pictures, although it has certainly some unnatural colouring, is that given in _The Gull's Horne-Booke_, a satirical work published in London in 1609. Under the heading of "How a Gallant should behave himselfe in Powles-Walkes," one of the chapters gives some details of the place. The following extracts are perhaps the most important:--
"Now for your venturing into the Walke, be circumspect and wary what pillar you come in at, and take heede in any case (as you love the reputation of your honour) that you avoid the _Seruingmans_ logg, and approach not within five fadom of that Piller; but bend your course directly in the middle line, that the whole body of the Church may appeare to be yours; where, in view of all, you may publish your suit in what manner you affect most, either with the slide of your cloake from the one shoulder, and then you must (as twere in anger) suddenly snatch at the middle of the inside (if it be taffata at the least) and so by that meanes your costly lining is betroyed, or else by the pretty advantage of Complement. But one note by the way do I especially wooe you to, the neglect of which makes many of our Gallants cheape and ordinary, that by no meanes you be seene above foure turnes; but in the fifth make yourselfe away, either in some of the Sempsters' shops, the new tobacco-office, or amongst the booke-sellers, where, if you cannot reade, exercise your smoake, and enquire who has writ against this divine weede, etc. For this withdrawing yourselfe a little, will much benefite your suit, which else, by too long walking, would be stale to the whole spectators: but howsoever if Powles Jacks bee once up with their elbowes, and quarrelling to strike eleven, as soone as ever the clock has parted them, and ended the fray with his hammer, let not the Duke's gallery contain you any longer, but passe away apace in open view.
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"All the diseased horses in a tedious siege cannot show so many fashions, as are to be seene for nothing, everyday, in _Duke Humfryes walke_. If therefore you determine to enter into a new suit, warne your Tailor to attend you in Powles, who, with his hat in his hand, shall like a spy discover the stuffe, colour, and fashion of any doublet, or hose that dare to be seene there, and stepping behind a piller to fill his table-bookes with those notes, will presently send you into the world an accomplisht man: by which meanes you shall weare your clothes in print with the first edition. But if Fortune favour you so much as to make you no more than a meere gentleman, or but some three degrees removd from him (for which I should be very sorie, because your London experience wil cost you deere before you shall have ye wit to know what you are) then take this lesson along with you: The first time that you venture into Powles, passe through the Body of the Church like a Porter, yet presume not to fetch so much as one whole turn in the middle Ile, no nor to cast an eye to _Si quis doore_ (pasted and plaistered up with Servingmens _supplications_) before you have paid tribute to the top of Powles _steeple_ with a single penny: And when you are mounted there, take heede how you looke downe into the yard; for the railes are as rotten as your great-Grand father; and thereupon it will not be amisse if you enquire how _Kit Woodroffe_ durst vault over, and what reason he had for it, to put his neck in hazard of reparations.
* * * * *
"The great dyal is your last monument: there bestow some half of the threescore minutes.... Besides, you may heere have fit occasion to discover your watch, by taking it forth and setting the wheeles to the time of Powles, which, I assure you, goes truer by five notes than _S. Sepulchres_ Chimes. The benefit that wil arise from hence is this yt you publish your charge in maintaining a gilded clocke; and withall the world shall know that you are a time-pleaser."
PAUL'S CROSS
This interesting open-air pulpit stood on a site near the north-eastern angle of the choir of the cathedral church. It was used not only for the instruction of mankind, by the doctrine of the preacher, but for every purpose political or ecclesiastical--for giving force to oaths; for promulgating laws, or rather royal pleasure; for the emission of papal bulls; for anathematising sinners; for benedictions; for exposing penitents under censure of the Church; for recantations; for the private ends of the ambitious; and for the defaming of those who had incurred the displeasure of crowned heads.
The Society of Antiquaries of London possesses an interesting painted diptych, showing two views of Old St. Paul's on one side, and another, in which the cathedral church occupies only a minor place, on the other side.
One of those three pictures is of peculiar value for the present purpose inasmuch as it gives a vivid and, in a way, realistic representation of Paul's Cross and its surroundings in the year 1620. There are certain features in the picture which are obviously inaccurate. The view which is taken from the north-west of the cathedral is, for example, made to include the great east window of the choir by, as Sir George Scharf remarked, "an unwarrantable straining of the laws of perspective." Again, the nave and choir are improperly made to appear shorter than the north and south transepts. But with regard to the cross itself, which forms the chief object in the foreground, the details are represented in a manner and with a completeness which suggest accuracy.
The representation of the actual cross is probably the best in existence, and has furnished the data upon which artists have largely depended in the various attempts to reconstruct the great historical scenes which took place long ago at Paul's Cross. The pulpit proper was covered by a rather gracefully shaped roof of timber covered with lead and bearing representations of the arms of Bishop Kempe at various points. Above the roof, and indeed rising out of it, was a large and slightly ornamental cross. The brickwork enclosing the cross, which is known to have been erected in 1595, is clearly shown in the picture.
So numerous are the great public events which have taken place at Paul's Cross that it is not possible to give details of them in this article.
The date of the demolition of Paul's Cross is stated by Dugdale to have been 1643, but the late Canon Sparrow Simpson produced evidence which clearly proves that it was pulled down before 1641, and probably before 1635. In the charge-books of the cathedral there is an entry under June, 1635, which shows that labourers were employed in carrying away "the lead, timber, etc., that was pull'd downe of the roomes where the Prebends of the Church, the Doctors of the Law, and the Parishioners of St. Ffaith's did sett to heare sermons at St. Paul's Crosse." Succeeding entries in the same volume render it highly probable that the cross had previously been taken down, and that preparations were being made for its re-erection.
The Great Fire probably destroyed any other traces which may then have been remaining of this extremely interesting old preaching-cross. The foundations alone have been preserved. These were discovered by the late Mr. C. F. Penrose, the surveyor to the cathedral, in the year 1879, and they are now indicated by an octagonal outline of stones on the ground-level close to the north-east corner of the present cathedral church.
Steps are now being taken to build another cross on the site of Paul's Cross, a legacy of five thousand pounds having been left for that purpose by the late H. C. Richards, M.P.
FOOTNOTES:
[71] See introduction to the _Catalogue of the Anglo-Jewish Historical Exhibition_, 1887.
[72] See Coote's _The Romans of Britain_ and Gomme's _The Governance of London_.
THE LIVES OF THE PEOPLE
BY THE EDITOR
A study of contemporary documents enables us to picture to ourselves the appearance of Old London in mediæval times, and to catch a glimpse of the manners and customs of the people and the lives they led. The regulations of the city authorities, the letter-books, journals, and repertories preserved in the Record Room at Guildhall, which show an unbroken record of all events and transactions--social, political, ecclesiastical, legal, military, naval, local, and municipal--extending over a period of six centuries; the invaluable _Liber Albus_ of the city of London; the history and regulations of the Guilds; the descriptions of Stow, Fitzstephen, and others--all help to enable us to make a sketch of the London of the Middle Ages, which differs very widely from the city so well known to us to-day.
The dangers of sieges and wars were not yet over, and the walls of Old London were carefully preserved and guarded. The barons in John's time adopted a ready means for repairing them. They broke into the Jews' houses, ransacked their coffers, and then repaired the walls and gates with stones taken from their broken houses. This repair was afterwards done in more seemly wise at the common charges of the city. Some monarchs made grants of a toll upon all wares sold by land or by water for the repair of the wall. Edward IV. paid much attention to the walls, and ordered Moorfields to be searched for clay in order to make bricks, and chalk to be brought from Kent for this purpose. The executors of Sir John Crosby, the wealthy merchant and founder of Crosby Place, also did good service, and placed the knight's arms on the parts that they repaired. The City Companies also came to the rescue, and kept the walls in good order.
Within these walls the pulse of the city life beat fast. The area enclosed was not large, only about the size of Hyde Park, but it must have been the busiest spot on earth; there was life and animation in every corner. In the city the chief noblemen had houses, or inns, as they were called, which were great buildings capable of housing a large retinue. We read of Richard, Duke of York, coming in 1457 to the city with four hundred men, who were lodged in Baynard's Castle; of the Earl of Salisbury with five hundred men on horseback lodging in the Herber, a house at Dowgate belonging to the Earl of Warwick, who himself stayed with six hundred men at his inn in Warwick Lane, where, says Stow, "there were oftentimes six oxen eaten at a breakfast." Eight hundred men were brought by the Dukes of Exeter and Somerset, and one thousand five hundred by the Earl of Northumberland, the Lord Egremont, and the Lord Clifford. The houses of these noble owners have long since disappeared, but the memory of them is recorded by the names of streets, as we shall attempt to show in a subsequent chapter. Even in Stow's time, who wrote in 1598, they were ruinous, or had been diverted from their original uses. The frequent visits of these noble persons must have caused considerable excitement in the city, and provided abundant employment for the butchers and bakers.
The great merchants, too, were very important people who had their fine houses, of which the last surviving one was Crosby Hall, which we shall describe presently, a house that has been much in the minds of the citizens of London during the present year. Stow says that there were many other houses of the same class of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and that they were "builded with stone and timber." In such houses, which had a sign swinging over the door, the merchant and his family lived and dined at the high table in the great hall, his 'prentices and servants sitting in the rush-strewn "marsh," as the lower portion of the hall was anciently named. These apprentices played an important part in the old city life. They had to serve for a term of seven years, and then, having "been sworn of the freedom" and enrolled on the books of the city, they were allowed to set up their shop or follow their trade. They were a lively, turbulent class of young men, ever ready to take to their weapons and shout "Clubs! Clubs!" whereat those who lived in one merchant's house would rush together and attack the apprentices of a rival merchant, or unite forces and pursue the hated "foreigners"--_i.e._, those who presumed to trade and had not been admitted to the freedom of the city. Boys full of high spirits, they were ever ready to join in a fight, to partake in sports and games, and even indulged in questionable amusements--frequented taverns and bowling alleys, played dice and other unlawful games, for which misdemeanours they were liable to receive a good flogging from their masters and other punishments. They had a distinctive dress, which changed with the fashions, and at the close of the mediæval period they were wearing blue cloaks in summer, and in winter blue coats or gowns, their stockings being of white broadcloth "sewed close up to their round slops or breeches, as if they were all but of one piece." Later on, none were allowed to wear "any girdle, point, garters, shoe-strings, or any kind of silk or ribbon, but stockings only of woollen yarn or kersey; nor Spanish shoes; nor hair with any tuft or lock, but cut short in decent and comely manner." If an apprentice broke these rules, or indulged in dancing or masking, or "haunting any tennis court, common bowling alley, cock-fighting, etc., or having without his master's knowledge any chest, trunk, etc., or any horse, dog or fighting-cock," he was liable to imprisonment. Chaucer gives an amusing picture of the fondness of the city apprentices for "ridings"--_i.e._, for the processions and pageants which took place when a king or queen entered the city in state, and such like joyful occasions--and for similar diversions:
"A prentis whilom dwelt in our Citie, And of a craft of vitaillers was he; At every bridale would he sing and hoppe; He loved bet the taverne than the shoppe. For whan ther any riding was in chepe, Out of the shoppe thither would he lepe, And till that he all the sight ysein, And danced well, he would not come agein; And gathered him a many of his sort, To hoppe and sing, and maken such disport."
The presence of large companies of these somewhat boisterous youths must have added considerable life and animation to the town.