CHAPTER X.

THE STREETS AND THE PEOPLE.

After the Palace and the Monastery, the City of Refuge, the Sign of the Red Pale, and the Borough at Election-time, we turn to the City streets and the people.

Now, if we include that part of the City lying west and north of Charing Cross and Pall Mall, the part which has been built and occupied since the seventeenth century, we are face to face with nothing less than the history of the British aristocracy during the last two centuries. This history has never been written; it is a work which cannot even be touched upon in these pages: to consider any part of it in a single chapter would be absurd. It belongs, like the history of the House of Commons, to the City of Westminster, because most of its events took place, and most of the people concerned lived, within the limits of that City. Also, like the House of Commons, the quarter where the aristocracy have had their town houses for two hundred years belongs to the national history, and must be treated independently of the City.

The British aristocracy was never so much a Caste apart as during the hundred and fifty years ending about the middle of this century. Their younger sons had quite abandoned the ancient practice of entering the City and going into trade; every kind of money-making, except the collection of rents from land, had become unworthy of a gentleman. No one could buy

or sell and continue to call himself a gentleman. There was a noble Caste and a trading Caste, quite separate and apart. The noble Caste possessed everything worth having; the whole of the land was theirs; all the great offices of state, all the lesser offices worth having, were theirs; the commands in the army and navy were theirs--not only the command of armies and fleets, but also of regiments and men-o’-war; the rich preferments of the Church--the deaneries, canonries, and bishoprics--were theirs; the House of Commons belonged to them (even the popular or radical members belonged to the Caste; in the election which was treated in the last chapter, Fox, the Friend of Liberty, the chosen of the Independent Electors, belonged to the Caste as much as his opponents, Lord Hood and Sir Cecil Wray). Everything was theirs, except the right to trade; they must not trade. To be a banker was to be in trade; the richest merchant was a tradesman as much as the grocer who sold sugar and treacle.

The materials for this history are abundant; there are memoirs, letters, biographies, autobiographies, recollections, in profusion. The life of the Caste during this period of a hundred and fifty years can be fully written. The historian, if we were able to exercise the art of selection, would present a series of highly dramatic chapters; there would be found in them love, jealousy, and intrigue; there would be ambition and cabal; there would be back-stairs interest; there would be Court gossip, and scandal, and whisperings; there would be gaming, racing, coursing, prize-fighting, drinking; there would be young Mohocks and old profligates; there would be ruined rakes and splendid adventurers--in a word, there would be the whole life of pleasure, and the whole life of ambition. It would be, worthily treated, a noble work.

This Caste, which enjoyed all the fruits of the earth, for which the rest of the nation toiled with the pious contentment enjoined by the Church, created for its own separate use a society which was at the same time free and unrestrained, yet courtly and stately. No one not born and bred in the Caste could attain its manners; if an outsider by any accident found himself in this circle, he thought he had got into the wrong paradise, and asked leave to exchange. Again, among the Caste, which, with a few brilliant exceptions, was without learning and without taste, were found all the patrons of art, poetry, and _Belles Lettres_. Still more remarkable, while the Caste had no religion, it owned the patronage of all the best livings in the Church. And, while it enjoyed an immunity never before claimed by any class of men, from morality, principle, and self-restraint, the Caste was the encouraging and fostering patron of every useful and admirable virtue, such as thrift, fidelity, temperance, industry, perseverance, frugality, and contentment. A wonderful history, indeed--and all of it connected with Westminster!

Of course, another side presents itself. The Caste was brave--its courage was undoubted; it was never without ability of the very highest kind, though a great deal of its ability was allowed to lie waste for want of stimulus; it was proud; if the occasion had arrived--it was very near arriving--the Caste would have faced the mob as dauntlessly as its cousin in France, whom the mob might kill, but could neither terrify nor degrade.

Again, there is the literary side. With the exception of a few names belonging to Fleet Street, and a few belonging to Grub Street, most of our literary history belongs to the quarter lying west of Temple Bar--in other words, to Westminster. One might go from street to street, pointing out the residence of Byron here, and of Moore there, of Swift, of Pope, of Addison. And in this way one could compile a chapter as interesting as a catalogue.

In the same way, the connection of street and noble residents might be carefully noted down, with the same result. This, indeed, has been already done by Jesse. If you read one or two of his chapters, taken almost at random, you will presently feel that your wits are wandering. For instance, here is a passage concerning one of the least distinguished streets in Westminster:

“In Cannon Row stood the magnificent residence of Anne Stanhope, the scorned and turbulent wife of the great Protector, Duke of Somerset. Here, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was the inn or palace of the Stanleys, Earls of Derby. Close by was the mansion of Henry, second Earl of Lincoln, who sat in judgment on Mary Queen of Scots, and who was one of the peers deputed by Queen Elizabeth to arrest the Earl of Essex in his house. Here, in the reign of James I., the Sackvilles, Earls of Dorset, had their town residence; and here, in the time of Queen Elizabeth, was the mansion of the great family of the Cliffords, Earls of Cumberland.”

How much, gentle reader, are you likely to remember of such information as this after reading twenty pages of it? How much, indeed, is it desirable to remember? Why encumber the brain with names and titles which are meaningless to your mind, and can restore for you no more of the past life and bygone actors than a handful of Helen’s dust could restore her beauty?

There is, however, another part of Westminster--a part which concerns us more than Caste Land. It is the part which lies around the ancient precincts of the Abbey. Here we touch Westminster; here we are not on land that belongs to the country, nor among people who belong to the country; we are in Westminster proper--in the streets which cannot even now, when all the former spaces of separation are covered up and built over, be called a part of London or a suburb of London. They are Westminster.

These streets possessed, until quite recently, the picturesqueness that belongs to the aged vagrom man. He hardly exists in these days; but one remembers him. He was old--age had lent no touch of reverence or dignity; he was clad in many-colored rags and fluttering duds; he leaned upon a stick; his white locks were the only part of him that presented any appearance of cleanliness; his face was lined and puckered, his features were weatherbeaten and prominent, his eyes were wolfish. He was admirable--in a picture. Such were the streets, such the houses, of Westminster--that part of the City lying round about the Abbey. Those on the west and south of the Abbey are comparatively new streets. In the excellent map by Richard Newcourt showing London and Westminster in the year 1658, we find Tothill Street completely built; Rochester Row does not exist; Great St. Peter Street has a few houses, Great College Street none; St. Anne’s Street has houses with gardens. The crowded part of Westminster in the seventeenth century was that narrow area north of New Palace Yard, of which King Street was the most important thoroughfare. When we consider that this place was a great center of trade long before and long after the building of London Bridge; that for six hundred years it was close to the King’s House, with all his followers, huscarles, archers, or bodyguard--we are not surprised that there has always been about these streets the flavor of the tavern--always the smell of casks and pint pots, of stale beer and yesterday’s wine. Where there are soldiers there are taverns; there also are the minstrels and the music and the girls. It may also be concluded beyond a doubt that the Sanctuary was a thirsty place. Long after Court and Camp and Sanctuary had left the place the name and fame of Westminster for its taverns and its dens remained. These streets were a byword and a reproach well into the present century. One or two streets there were that claimed for a generation or so a kind of respectability. They were the streets lying between New Palace Yard and Whitehall, such as King Street, and Cannon Street, with one or two of later growth,--of seventeenth and eighteenth century respectability,--such as Petty France, Cowley Street, and College Street.

King Street, especially, if one may brave the reproach of cataloguing, is full of history. Here lived Oliver Cromwell; his house is said to have stood on the north side of the Blue Boar’s Head, of which the court still remains. Sir Henry Wootton lived here; one of Caxton’s successors set up his press in this street. It was formerly, as we have already seen, a picturesque and beautiful street, with its gate at either end, its overhanging gables, and its signs. Half a dozen taverns stood in this street--the Swan, the Dog, the Bell, the Blue Boar’s Head, etc. This little street, now so insignificant, was formerly, we are always, by every writer, called upon to observe, the “highway” between London and Westminster. But then nobody went by road who could go by river. The Thames was the highway--not King Street--between London and Westminster; by the Thames the Port of London sent its goods to the Court of Westminster or Whitehall;

by the river came down country produce for Court and Abbey. There was doubtless some traffic which found its way along King Street; but for communication between Westminster and all other parts of the country except the City and the Strand, we must remember that there was not only the river, but the old, old road, that which formerly ran down from the North to the marsh at St. James’s Park, and began again on the other side of the river; the marsh was now drained, and the road, no longer a ford, ran across it and formed the most direct entrance to the Court or the Abbey from the North. We must remember, again, that nobody walked who could ride; and that nobody rode who could take boat; walking along streets unpaved, foul with every kind of refuse, muddy after rain, stinking in dry weather, was never pleasant; therefore no one went afoot who could go any other way. The streets which contained shops, such as Cheapside, were kept clean and protected by posts; but King Street was not one of these. Men who rode into Westminster entered either by King Street or by Tothill Street; but no one came afoot if they could come by boat.

In King Street died Spenser “for lack of bread,” said Ben Jonson. But he goes on to add that the dying poet refused money sent him by the Earl of Essex. The story has been accepted without question by almost everyone who writes upon Spenser. Yet it is incredible on the face of it, when one begins to consider, for the simple reason that starving men never do refuse help, even at the last gasp. There is no doubt that in the Irish Rebellion Spenser lost one child, who perished in the flames of the burning house. He escaped, it is said, with his wife. That he was desperately poor at this juncture we need not doubt; that he was wretched is also without doubt; that he died in misery we need not doubt; but if the Earl of Essex sent him money he would certainly have taken it if he was starving; if his wife was with him he would have taken it for her sake if he was dying.

As a matter of fact he was not suffering from want of money; and since the death of an infant does not often kill the child’s father, we need not suppose that he died of heart-break. Nor is it probable that he died of a broken heart over the loss of MSS. He was Sheriff of Cork; he had his estate, which was not lost, although the rebels burned his house--they burned his house because he was Sheriff. He had, besides the estate, a small pension; he had still his wife and his children, and his friends. He was only forty-six years of age, a time when the world is still lying fair and far stretched out before the pilgrim. None the less he died--of what? Of fever caused by the excitement and the trouble of the rebellion; by exposure; by this or by that--he died. He was buried in the Abbey near the resting-place of Chaucer; all the poets wrote elegies and threw them, together with the pens that wrote them, into the grave of “the little man who wore short hair.” And his widow married again and quarreled with her eldest son about the estate; and there were descendants of Edmund Spenser in Ireland until a hundred years ago, when the last one died.

Queen Square, which is now Queen Anne’s Gate, and Petty France, now York Street, represent the respectable side of old Westminster. Peg Woffington lived in Queen Square; so did Bentham. In Petty France Milton lived when he gave up his chambers in Whitehall Palace. His house was taken down a year or two ago. Hazlitt occupied Milton’s house for some years.

Another respectable quarter was the group of streets at the back of Dean’s Yard, known as Great College Street, Barton Street, and Cowley Street. There is not anywhere in and about the cities of London and Westminster a more secluded, peaceful retreat than can be found in these three streets. The first, whose upper windows look out upon the broad lawns and noble trees, formerly the garden of the Infirmary, now the garden of the Canons, might be a street in Amsterdam if its ground-floor windows were only higher; under this street still flows the stream which once helped to separate the Isle of Bramble from the marshes and the meadows; halfway down, hidden by stables, stands the old Jewel House of the King’s House of Westminster; at the west end is the modern gateway, still preserving some semblance of its former appearance, the last that is left of the four gateways of the Abbey. It leads into Dean’s Yard, the quietest of squares, and, under ancient gates, into ancient cloisters and covered ways, and the relics and fragments of the Benedictine Abbey. Behind Great College Street stand Barton Street and Cowley Street. And for quiet and solitude these should belong to a city of the dead; or better still, they should be what they pretend to be. For the houses among themselves pretend to be the Cathedral Close; they whisper to the stray traveler: “Seek no farther. This, and none other, is the Close of the Cathedral or Collegiate Church of St. Peter. In this quiet retreat live, we assure you, the canons and the minor canons. Step lightly, lest you disturb their meditations.” There are many such spots about London which thus pretend, and so carry themselves with pride: one such, for instance, is in Bermondsey, affected by the memory of the Abbey and the presence of the Parish Church; and another there is at Hampstead; and in most country towns there is such a quiet, dignified Street; one such street, so quiet, so dignified, stands in Albany, New York State; and one in Boston, Massachusetts.

Once there was a tavern in Barton Street, known to all men by its sign as The Salutation. The excellence of the painting is proved by the fact that in the Commonwealth the same sign without alteration served for a new name--viz., The Soldier and Citizen. After

the Restoration the Soldier once more became an Angel and the Citizen returned to the Virgin Mary. But I think that the tavern languished. Cowley Street was not named after the poet, as one would like to believe, but after the village of Cowley, in Middlesex, by Mr. Booth Barton, who built the two streets. There are other associations about these streets; the name of Keats is mentioned. But they belong to the catalogue. It is enough for us to recall the babbling brook which once ran along the roadway here--on this side of the gray stone wall which still stands, the wall of the Monastery. It ran then through the bending reeds and the tall grasses of the marsh, and so out into the silver Thames; the swans came sailing up the brook, and made nests in the low bank of the eyot. The Abbot’s barge was moored close by the gateway, of which a modern successor still stands; and there were drawn up on the bank the boats in which the Abbot’s fishermen went out to catch salmon and sturgeon in the river. Later on they built these quiet houses along one side, something after the Dutch style; and they hung up before their fronts a curtain of green Virginia creeper, but not to hide from the windows the view of the broad lawns, the flower-beds, and the walnut trees of the garden behind the wall.

This part of Westminster has always been full of taverns; first for the solace of the men-at-arms, afterward for that of the Members of Parliament. The tavern has always been the national place of recreation and rest; for a time, it is true, the coffee-house displaced it, but only for a time--the tavern came back again to favor. The signs of these inns show the date of their erection. There was the White Hart of Richard II.; the Brown Bear of Warwick; the White Swan of Henry V.; the Old Rose of Henry VII. And there were the more common signs: the Blue Boar, the Salutation, the George, the Green Dragon, The Barley Mow, the Heaven tavern, the Fleece. One of the oldest of these taverns, the Cock, remained with its open court and its galleries till twenty years ago, when it was pulled down to make room for the Aquarium. The rafters and timbers of this tavern were of cedar, and the interior was also adorned with many curious carvings.

More remarkable than the taverns, which we have with us everywhere, were the Almshouses of Westminster. Until they were destroyed they were remarkable for their number, for their endowments, and for the quaint pleasantness and beauty of their appearance. You may now look in vain for the old buildings: they are gone; in their place we have the consolidated almshouses and the consolidated schools.

There were almshouses--eight of them--in the Woolstaple, which is now Cannon Street; they looked out upon the river, and the bedesmen turned an honest penny by letting them in lodgings for Parliament men. There were other almshouses founded by Henry VII., outside the Gatehouse in Tothill Street. There was an almshouse for women founded by Lady Margaret in the Almonry. But these were ancient things. Perhaps they disappeared with the Dissolution; perhaps they were “consolidated” the other day. Of the modern almshouses with schools attached, the most important was Emanuel College, a lovely House of Refuge, which stood until yesterday in James Street on the way from Buckingham Gate to Victoria. After leaving the great mansions near the Park one came suddenly upon the low red-brick quadrangle open at one side, with its chapel in the middle and its broad smooth lawn and flower-beds in front--as peaceful a spot as could be found anywhere. It made one glad to think that Dives had really remembered Lazarus; it made one reflect that perhaps money can be put to no better use than to consecrate it to the maintenance of age. And now that College is taken down; soon the site will be covered with residential flats, and Lazarus will retire to his place upon the doorstep. Lazarus is old and worn out in the service of Dives; he ought to be in an almshouse; he has got rheumatism in all his joints; he wants a warm place and a quiet place to lie down and rest in. While this venerable Hospital stood, the world--the world of fashion, the world of pleasure--was reminded of Lazarus. It has disappeared; this means that Lazarus is shoved aside, put out of sight, forgotten; he spends his strength and his skill in the service of the rich man, who knows and thinks nothing about him, and when his strength and his skill fail there is nothing to remind his master that thus and thus should he deal with his old and faithful servant.

All the romance of Westminster City lay in its almshouses and schools. The City of London was fighting the battle of civic freedom; the City of London was finding money to fill the King’s Treasury; the City of London was sending its sails out to the uttermost parts of the earth. This other City, which was not really a city, but only a collection of houses, under the rule of Abbot and of Dean,--which had no trade, which had no municipality, which was a gathering of riffraff and Sanctuary rabble,--presented a continual spectacle of poverty, misery, and crime, lying at the very gate of Abbey and of King’s House. Lazarus, actual or prospective, lived in every house. The Dean

and Chapter had the poor always with them, as their tenants. They had not only the impotent and the worn-out, but also the vicious and the mischievous--the people who would not work. They had but to step outside their gates in order to obtain illustrations for their sermons on the extreme misery which, even in this world, follows such a life. The general wretchedness moved the hearts of many. London itself once had admirable almshouses; but those of Westminster, considering the difference in population, are much more important. The City contained an unparalleled collection of almshouses and free schools. But I do not find any that were founded by the landlords of the City, the Dean and Chapter of the Cathedral.

If you walk down Rochester Row, you will find on the west side a large modern building, with a hall and offices on one side of a quadrangle and red-brick houses of pleasing appearance on the other side. These are the consolidated or United Westminster Charities. They pulled down the old almshouses, which were so picturesque and so lovely of aspect: they destroyed the individual character belonging to every one; they rolled them all together, and with the lump sum, subtracting the leakage that went to conveyancers and architects, they built this pile.

Yes, it is very well: the pile is perhaps handsome; but I doubt if there are so many bedesmen in the United Charity as there were in the separate charities. And it is no longer the same thing. Each House formerly had its own garden, in which the almsmen took the air; and its own chapel, in which those on the foundation could remember the founder--Lady Dacre, to wit; or Cornelius Van Dun, Yeoman of the Guard to Henry VIII., Queen Mary, and Queen Elizabeth (his house stood near the present Town Hall); or Emery Hill, or George Whicher, or Judith Kifford, or Nicholas Butler Palmer. Busts and tablets outside the new buildings commemorate these worthies, but where are their buildings gone? The Almshouses of Westminster are all destroyed, and with them have perished the sentiment and the romance of the streets.

Something still remains; for, with the most laudable desire to destroy whatever can teach or suggest or soften manners or point to heaven, the Charity Commissioners have not been able to destroy one or two of the schools. There were formerly the Grey Coat School, the Green Coat School, the Blue Coat

School, and the Black Coat School. The Grey Coat School has become a school for nearly four hundred girls; their old house still remains for them--a most beautiful monument, built in the seventeenth century for a poorhouse. The great hall in which the paupers formerly lived is now the school hall; above it ran the old low dormitory, now thrown open to the roof; there are paneled old rooms for board rooms; there are broad passages and corridors; there are schoolrooms of later date; and at the back, still uninjured, lie the broad gardens that belong to the time when every house in Westminster had its garden.

In any map of London except those of the actual present,--say, in Crutchley’s of 1838,--there is laid down in its place, just north of Rochester Row (which is now Artillery Place), St. Margaret’s Hospital, otherwise called the Green Coat School. This part of Westminster was once called Palmer’s Village; the Hospital was founded by the parish for the benefit of orphans. Charles II. endowed it; the Duchess of Somerset gave the school a thousand pounds; other benefactions flowed in. Forty years ago the place was thus described by a writer who is not often eloquent in praise (Walcott’s “Westminster”):

“The Hospital of St. Margaret consists of a large quadrangle. Upon the east side are the schoolroom, lavatory, and dormitories. The Master’s house fronts the entrance--a detached building ornamented with a bust of the kingly founder, and the Royal arms painted in colours widely carved and gilded, which were, according to tradition, only preserved from the destructive hands of the Puritans by a thick coating of plaster laid over the obnoxious remembrancers of the rightful dynasty. The south side is formed by the refectory and board room, wainscoted--once, it is said, with old portions of the woodwork which stood in St. Margaret’s chancel--to a considerable height, in large panels, upon which are hung full-length paintings of King Charles II., by Sir Peter Lely, and Emery Hill, an ancient benefactor to the institution, in the manner of the same master. Over the mantelpiece is a beautiful portrait of King Charles I., by Vandyke. The windows command a view of the Hospital Garden, with its fragrant flower-beds and grassy plots--a pleasant relief to the eye wearied with the interminable brick buildings of the outer street, and well attesting the constant care bestowed upon it.

“Upon this foundation are maintained twenty-nine boys, who wear a long green skirt, bound round with a red girdle, similar in form to that worn by the boys of Christ’s Hospital.”

Where is this lovely place now? It is gone. On its site are some branches of the Army and Navy Stores. Think what a city loses by the destruction of such a place! The daily object-lesson in our duty to the friendless and the helpless; the memory of bygone worthies; the sentiment of brotherhood. That is one way of considering the loss. Another way is to think of it as a place of singular beauty, of such beauty as we cannot possibly reproduce. And we have willfully and needlessly destroyed it! It is a national disaster of the gravest, the most irreparable kind, that such monuments as old almshouses, old City churches, old schools, old gates, old foundations of any kind, should be given over to any body of men, with permission to tear down and destroy at their will, and under pretense of benefiting the parish. Can one benefit a man by destroying his memory? Can one

improve a parish by cutting off its connection with the past?

There is one other endowed school not yet destroyed. It is the Blue Coat School, first opened in 1688 for boys. In the year 1709 the present school buildings were erected. They consist of a charming red-brick hall with the figure of a scholar over the porch; a little garden full of greenery is at the back; at one side is the master’s residence, a two-storied house covered all over with a curtain of Virginia creeper; another little garden, full of such flowers as will grow in the London air, is behind this house. But master and boys, when they look around them, begin to tremble, for their place is old, it is beautiful, it adorns the street, it is sacred to the memory of two hundred years of Boy--thirty generations of Boy. It is still most useful--therefore one feels certain that it is doomed; it must soon go, to make room for residential flats and mansions fifteen stories high; it must, we have no doubt, follow the other monuments of the Past, and be absorbed into Consolidated Schools. If there were any other reason wanted for the destruction of the School, it is the tradition that Wren built it.

To my mind Westminster possesses, apart from the Abbey, but one Church--that of St. Margaret’s. Other modern churches there are, but one does not heed them: they are things of to-day; even St. John’s and St. Martin’s are but of yesterday. St. Margaret’s is eight hundred years old; if not built by the Confessor, it was built--that is to say, the first church on this site was built--soon after his death. The history of St. Margaret’s Church must be told by an ecclesiastic; we need only remember that Caxton lies buried here; there is a tablet to his memory put up in 1820 by the Roxburgh Club. Raleigh is buried here--within the chancel. James Harrington, author of “Oceana,” is buried here. John Skelton, with whom we have conversed in Sanctuary, is buried here. Here Milton was married to Katharine Woodcock, who died in childbirth a year later:

Methought I saw my late espousèd saint Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave. Mine, such as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in heaven, without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. Her face was veiled; yet to my fancied sight Love, sweetness, goodness in her person shined.

In the churchyard of St. Margaret’s were interred the remains of those persons who were turned out of the Abbey at the Restoration: the mother of Cromwell; his daughter; Admiral Blake, whose remains ought to have been taken back again long ago; and in this church, or this churchyard, have been buried a crowd of persons illustrious and of high degree in their generation, whose deeds have not survived them and whose memory is only kept alive by the monuments on the walls and nothing else. It is a church filled with monuments: it reminds one of such a

church as the Grey Friars’ in the City, which was crowded with tombs of the illustrious Forgotten.

Not far from the church is the old-new Burial Ground, in the Horseferry Road. It is now a public garden, and a pleasant garden, with seats and asphalted paths and beds of grass and flowers. Against the wall are ranged the tombstones of the obscure Forgotten. I suppose it makes very little difference to a man whether he has a headstone provided for him against the wall of a public garden, or a tablet--nay, a monument--against the wall of St. Margaret’s Church, as soon as he is properly and completely forgotten.

St. Margaret’s, then, is the only church of which one thinks in connection with Westminster. There is one scene, one little drama, enacted or partly enacted in this church, which perhaps may belong to the pen of the layman. It is the famous case brought before a Court of Chivalry in the year 1387, to decide the dispute between Sir Richard le Scrope and Sir Robert Grosvenor respecting the right of either party to a certain coat-of-arms. This was no common case: it was the alleged violation of a family possession, a family distinction. The case was considered so important that more than three hundred witnesses were called. They are nearly all shadows and empty names now; but one there is who stands out prominent: his name is Geoffrey Chaucer.

The following is the evidence given by the poet in this great heraldic case:

“Geoffrey Chaucer, Esquire, forty years of age and more, having borne arms for twenty-eight years, produced for the side of Sir Richard le Scrope, sworn and examined. Asked if the arms Azure with a bend Or belonged or ought to belong to the said Richard of right and inheritance, said, ‘Yes’; for he had seen him thus armed in France before the city of Retters, and Sir Henry le Scrope with the same arms with a white label and a banner, and the said Sir Richard with the complete arms--Azure and a bend Or; and thus had he seen them armed during the whole time that the said Geoffrey was present. Asked why he knew that the said arms belonged to the said Sir Richard, said that he had heard speech of old knights and squires, and that they had always continued their possession of the said arms, and for all his time reputed for these arms in common fame and public ways. And also he said that he had seen the same arms on banners, on windows, on paintings, on robes, commonly called the arms of Le Scrope. Asked if he had ever heard who was the first ancestor of the said Sir Richard, who first bore the said arms, said ‘No’; but that he had never heard of any, but that they had come of an old stock and of old gentlefolk, and had held the same arms. Asked if he had ever heard of any interruption or challenge made by Sir Robert Grosvenor, or by his ancestors, or by any one in his name, to the said Sir Richard or to any of his ancestors, said ‘No’; but that he was once in Friday Street in London, and as he went along the street he saw hanging out a new sign made of the said arms, and he asked what house was this that had hung out the arms of Scrope; and one other replied, and said, ‘Not so: and they are not hung out for the arms of Scrope, nor painted for those arms, but they are painted and put up there for a knight of the County of Chester, a man named Robert Grosvenor’; and that this was the first time that ever he heard tell of

Sir Robert Grosvenor or his ancestors or anybody bearing the name of Grosvenor.”

The case, at which between three or four hundred witnesses were heard, was finally decided by “Thomas Fitz au Roy, Duc de Gloucestre, Counte de Bukyngham et Dessex, Constable Dengleterre,” who, after due care and deliberation, and the weighing of all the evidence, and consultation with wise and discreet persons, finally adjudged “les dites armes d’azure ove une bend dor avoir esté et estre les armes du dit Richard Lescrop.” And so ended this great case, which somehow puts the poet before us more clearly than even his “Canterbury Pilgrims.”

And so we come back to the streets proper of Westminster--_i. e._, the slums on the west and south of the Monastery.

There have always been slums here, even before the Sanctuary rabble and after. The streets lying about Tothill Lane, however, which were slums from the beginning, only began in the sixteenth century. The map of Anthony Van den Wyngeerde (A.D. 1543) shows only a few houses standing round about the Sanctuary in the northwest corner of the inclosure; there is a crowd of houses between King Street and the river, and on the west there is nothing but open country: that part of the City which contained the most infamous dens and the vilest ruffians, which was called the “Desert” of Westminster, lying to the south of Tothill Fields, grew up and ran to waste and seed in the course of the seventeenth century. In the eighteenth we reaped the harvest of that seed; at the end of the nineteenth we are still pulling up the weeds and planting new flowers and sowing better seed.

The “Desert” was bounded on the north by Tothill Street, Broadway, and Petty France, all with their courts--their sweet and desirable courts; its southern boundary was the Horseferry Road; the Abbey lay along the east; and the western marsh was the fringe of Tothill Fields, now marked by Rochester Row, or perhaps Francis Street. A little remains--here a court, there a bit of street--to mark what the place was like.

Hear what was written about Westminster so late as the year 1839 (Bardsley on “Westminster Improvements”): “Thorney Island consisted chiefly of narrow, dirty streets lined with wretched dwellings, and of numerous miserable courts and alleys, situate in the environs of the Palace and Abbey, where in the olden time the many lawless characters claiming sanctuary found shelter; and so great had been the force of long custom that the houses continued to be rebuilt, century after century, in a miserable manner for the reception of similar degraded outcasts. The inhabitants of these courts and alleys are stated in the reign of Queen Elizabeth ‘to be the most part of no trade or mystery, to be poor, and many of them wholly given to vice and idleness.’ And in James I.’s time ‘almost every fourth house is an alehouse, harbouring all sorts of lewde and badde people.’ And again: ‘In these narrow streets, and in their close and insalubrious lanes, courts, and alleys, where squalid misery and poverty struggle with filth and wretchedness, where vice reigns unchecked, and in the atmosphere of which the worst diseases are generated and diffused.’”

In the little space of a thousand feet by twelve hundred, the courts were sometimes so narrow that the people could shake hands across; the tenements were

sometimes built of boards nailed together; there were no sanitary arrangements at all; there was no drainage; typhus always held possession; and actually under the very shadow of the Cathedral were gathered together the most dangerous and most villainous wretches in the whole country. Old Pye Street, Orchard Street, Duck Lane, the Almonry, and St. Anne’s Street were the homes of the professional street beggar and the professional thief. No respectable person could venture with safety into these streets.

They are now quite safe; the people are rough to look at, but they are no longer thieves and cut-throats by calling. Let us take a short, a very short walk about the Desert. Alas! its glories are gone; the place is not even picturesque: Vice, we know, is sometimes picturesque, even in its most hideous mien. Orchard Street has one side pulled down, and the other side presents a squalid, dilapidated appearance in gray brick; it was once a fit entrance for the most wicked part of London. The streets into which it leads--Great St. Anne’s Street, Pye Street, Peter Street, Duck Lane (now St. Matthew Street) are all transformed. Huge barracks of lodging-houses stand over the dark and malodorous courts; the place is now no doubt tolerably virtuous, but the artist turns from it with a shudder. There was a time when these streets were country lanes, having few houses, and no courts; at this time many pleasant, ingenious, and interesting persons lived in this quarter. For example, Herrick the poet and Purcell the musician lived in St. Anne’s Street. But we have already condemned the catalogue of connections. He who seriously studies the streets learns the associations as he goes along.

Outside these streets stretched Tothill Fields and Five Fields. These fields were to Westminster much as Smithfield and Moorfields were to the City of London. Anything out of the common could be done in Tothill Fields. To begin with, they were a pleasant place for walking; in the spring they were full of flowers--the cuckoo flower, the marsh mallow,

the spurge, the willow herb, the wild parsley, are enumerated; they contained ponds and streams; in the streams grew watercress, always a favorite “sallet” of the people; in the ponds there were ducks--the Westminster boys used to hire dogs to worry the ducks; it is not stated who paid for those ducks. On the north side of the Fields was St. James’s Park, with its decoy and Rosamond’s Pond, a rectangular pool lying across what is now Birdcage Walk, opposite the Wellington Barracks. Later on, market gardens were laid out in these low-lying meadows.

Tournaments were held in the Fields--not the ordinary exercises or displays of the tilt yard, but the grander occasions, as in 1226 at the coronation of Queen Eleanor. Here, in the same reign, but later, the Prior of Beverley entertained the Kings and Queens of England and Scotland, the King’s son, and many great Lords, in tents erected on the field.

Executions were carried out in the Fields, as when was taken Margaret Gourdemains, “a witch of Eye beside Westminster,”--was it Battersea (“Peter’s Ey”)? or was it Chelsea (“Shingle Ey”)?--“whose sorcerie and witchcraft Dame Eleanour Cobham had long time used, and by her medicines and drinks enforced the Duke of Gloucester to love her and after to wed her.” Necromancers were punished here. In the reign of Edward III. a man was taken practicing magic with a dead man’s hand, and carried to Tothill, where his dead man’s hand was burned before his face.

Here was held the ordeal of battle. Stow relates one such trial. The dispute was about a manor in the Isle of Harty. The plaintiffs, two in number, appointed their champion, and the defendant his. The latter was a “Master of Defense,” which does not seem quite fair upon the other, who was only a “big, broad, strong set fellow.” Before the day appointed for the fight an agreement was arrived at between the parties; only, “for the defendant’s assurance,” the order for the fight should be observed, the plaintiffs not putting in an appearance, so that the case should be judged against them in default. The lists were twenty-one yards square, set with scaffolds crowded with people--for who would not go out to see two men trying to kill each other? The Master of Defense, to whom the proceedings were an excellent advertisement, rode through London at seven in the morning in splendid attire, having the gauntlet borne before him; he entered Westminster Hall, but made no long stay there, going back to King Street, and so through the Sanctuary and Tothill Street to the lists, where he waited for the Judge. At ten the Court of Common Pleas removed to the lists. Then the combatants stood face to face, bare-footed, bare-legged, bare-headed, with their doublet sleeves turned back, ready for the fight; and all hearts beat faster, and the ladies caught their breath and gasped, and their color came and went. Then the Judge gave order that every person must keep his place and give no help or encouragement by word or by weapon to the combatants. Next--this was the last of the tedious preliminaries: when would they begin?--each champion took oath: “This hear you Justices, that I this day neither eate, drunk, nor have upon me neither bone, stone, nor glasse, or any enchantment, sorcerie, or witchcraft, where-through the power of the word of God might be increased or diminished and the devil’s power increased; and that my appeal is true, so help me God, and His saints, and by this booke.”

Alas! instead of giving the word to fight it out, the Lord Chief Justice remarked that the plaintiffs were not present; that there could be no fight without them; and that the estate consequently went to the defendant. Then with sad faces and heavy hearts the company dispersed. No fight, after all--nobody killed! To be sure, the Master of Defense invited the “big, broad, strong set fellow” to play with him half a score blows; but the latter refused, saying he had come to fight and not to play.

A great Fair was held in these Fields on St. Edward’s Day (October 12), and for fifteen days afterward. It was instituted by Henry III., in the hope of doing some mischief to the City of London. The Fair continued, but after the first year it seems to have done no harm to the trade of London. It continued, in fact, into the present century, when it was an ordinary fair of booths and shows, with Richardson’s Theater--like Greenwich Fair or Portsdown Fair. All these Fairs were alike. The two latter I can remember. Unfortunately my visits to these renowned Fairs took place in the afternoon; the real fun of the Fair, I believe, took place in the evening. I remember a great crowd pushing and fighting and springing rattles on each other; and I remember the performers outside Richardson’s marching about in magnificent costumes; the band playing; the clown tumbling; the columbine, a true fairy if ever there was one, gracefully pirouetting; then all forming into line for a dance; and after the dance the play in the tent behind. Such a Fair was that of Tothill Fields, at night the resort of all the ruffians of Westminster and Lambeth and half London. At least, however, while they were at the Fair they were out of other mischief. The exact site on which this Fair was held does not appear; but since it continued for the first quarter of this century at least, we may look for the place which was the last to be built upon. In Crutchley’s map of 1834 there are fields between the Vauxhall Bridge Road and James Street--that is, northwest of Rochester Row. There are also fields south of Vauxhall Bridge Road toward Chelsea. The former site seems the more probable.

Of course so fine a situation as Tothill Fields for the favorite diversions of a sporting people could not be neglected. Hither resorted all the lovers of those old English games, cock-fighting, bear-baiting, bull-baiting, cock-throwing, dog-fighting, and prize-fighting. There were horse races. These sports were continued well into this century. The Earl of Albemarle in his “Recollections” speaks of these sports. The Westminster boys of his time haunted the houses called the Seven Chimneys or the Five Houses,--they were the old pesthouses,--which were the resort of the bullbaiters, the dog-fanciers, and other gentry of cognate pursuits. Among them was the unfortunate Heberfield, commonly known as “Slender Billy,” who seems to have been a good-tempered, easy-going person, without the least tincture of morals. The following is the strange and shameful story of his end:

He got into trouble for assisting the escape of a certain French general who was on parole; took him probably to the south coast,--Lyme Regis, Rousdon, or Charmouth,--and introduced him to a smuggler who ran him across. He was caught, tried, and sentenced to imprisonment in Newgate. Unhappily for him, the Bank of England was just then suffering heavy losses from forgeries. They badly wanted to hang somebody,--no matter who,--somebody, in order to deter others from forging notes. The story is quite amazing, as Lord Albemarle tells it. Can we conceive the Governing Body of the Bank of England meeting together and resolving to entrap some miserable wretch into passing the forged notes, so that by getting him hanged others would be deterred? This is what Lord Albemarle says they did:

“The Solicitors of the Bank accordingly took into their pay a confederate of Heberfield’s named Barry. Through this man’s agency Heberfield was easily inveigled into passing forged notes provided by the Solicitors of the Bank themselves. On the evidence of Barry, Heberfield was found guilty and sentenced to death. He was hanged at Newgate for forgery on January 12, 1812.”

The saddest of all the memories connected with Tothill Fields is that of the triumphal entry of Cromwell into London after the “crowning mercy” of Worcester. He brought with him the miserable prisoners he had taken on that field. There were four thousand of them in all. They camped at Mile End Green when Cromwell drove into London; the next day they were marched right through the City and along the Strand to Westminster, and so to Tothill Fields. On the way they received alms, oatmeal, and biscuit from any who were moved of their pity to bestow something upon them. So they lay in the marshy fields, where many died, until they were sold as slaves to the merchants of Guinea. In Mr. J. E. Smith’s “History of the Church of St. John the Evangelist” there is an entry which tells its own story. It is from the Church-wardens’ Accounts of 1652-53:

“Paid to Thomas Wright for 67 load of soyle laid on the graves in Tothill Fields, wherein 1200 Scotch prisoners, taken at the ffight at Worcester, were buried, and for other paines taken with his teame of horsse about amending the Sanctuary Highway when General Ireton was buried. XXXS.”

How many of the remaining two thousand eight hundred ever got home again? Chance once threw into my hands a tract which showed the hard treatment and the barbarities to which Monmouth’s convicts in Barbadoes were subjected: most of these were men of respectable family, to whom money might be sent for their exemption from work in the fields, or even for their redemption. But these other poor fellows were absolutely friendless and penniless. And they were going to the Guinea Coast, the Gold Coast, the white man’s grave! One hopes that the mortality on their arrival was swifter and more extensive than even the mortality in Tothill Fields, because death was certainly the best thing that could happen to them.

When these papers first appeared I received a letter of expostulation from a reader. He said that the streets of Westminster were not all so disreputable as I seemed to think. He said:

“Westminster only became a slum within this hundred years. The old Westminster workhouse had been the mansion of Sir John Pye. Sir Francis Burdett was born in Orchard Street, and Admiral Kempenfeldt who went down in the _Royal George_ had his house there, and not so very long ago a pear tree bloomed annually in his garden. The father of Henry Boys, organist of St. John’s, about 1830 to 1840, was a bullion worker and carried on his business for many years and up to the thirties in Great St. Anne’s Lane. My grandmother was born, 1770, in Peter Street, at the corner of Duck Lane. She told me that all that neighbourhood was very respectable in her girlhood, Duck Lane being the only exception. She attributed the downfall of the locality to the cheap houses that were built at that time in New Peter Street. Towards the end of the century there was only one shop in Strutton Ground: all the rest being public-houses. My mother was born in 1802 in Marlborough House, Peter Street, then the premises of the Cudbear Company. She used to recall Brown’s Gardens in her young days, that were between St. Peter Street and the Horseferry Road. They were nursery gardens. Palmer’s village was a collection of houses for workmen, built about the beginning of this century or the end of last, between Emanuel Hospital and Brewer’s Green, and accessible through an archway leading from the latter.”

I am glad to print this protest. I have, however, given my authorities for what I have stated. It is quite possible that respectable streets and good houses existed side by side with the slums. There are always respectable streets and great houses in every neighborhood, just as among associations of the greatest villains there are always some with redeeming traits. Among the residents of Westminster our friend might have mentioned Lord Grey of Wilton, Cornelius Van Dur, Yeoman of the Guard to four sovereigns, Oliver Cromwell, John Milton, and Dick Turpin.

Hear, however, further from Mr. William Bardell, writing in 1839.

“Another of the peculiarities which this district presents is the number of middle-men it contains: these generally possess themselves of a house or houses, with gardens, large or small as it may happen; here they erect, in open defiance of all building or sewers acts, a number of tenements of the most wretched description, and to which the only access is by a passage through one of the front houses; in process of time these become lanes, or courts, or alleys, or places, or buildings, or yards. These tenements are divided into separate rooms, and let weekly by the middle-man, who subsists upon his beneficial interest in the concern; and so numerous are the houses of this description in the district, that considerably more than one-half of the number proposed to be removed are let to weekly lodgers; but these places, most of them old, and very slightly built, frequently with boards held together by iron hoops, are so utterly destitute of every convenience, that the heretofore pleasant gardens of Tothill are most terrible nuisances.

“It is in these narrow streets, and in these close and insalubrious lanes, courts, and alleys, where squalid misery and poverty struggle with filth and wretchedness, where vice reigns unchecked, and in the atmosphere of which the worst diseases are generated and diffused. That uncleanness and impurity are an unerring index, pointing out the situation where the malignancy of epidemics more or less exists, is a truth known and admitted from the earliest ages.”

“Dr. Wright, the assiduous and highly-intelligent medical officer to the parish, stated before the same Committee, ‘that fever is exceedingly prevalent, and had been very general in the months of April and May.’ The Doctor had upwards of thirty cases of typhus fever in one court containing four houses; most of which cases it is probable would have terminated fatally had the sufferers not been removed from that locality; ‘that fever is propagated and continued in these miserable courts long after the ravages of epidemics have ceased in more open parts.’

“Mr. Cubitt also has stated, that ‘the ground between the Almonry and the western end of Palmer’s village is occupied by the worst possible description of inhabitants. The land is exceedingly badly drained, or rather not drained; and there being no proper outlets for the water, a great deal of bad air must pass off by evaporation from the quantity of stagnant water upon the surface and in the cesspools.’”

Here we make an end: it is not a Survey of Westminster to which you have been invited; it is but this side and that side of the many-sided life of this remarkable City, which is, as was pointed out at the beginning, unlike any other city in the world, in having no citizens, but only residents or tenants; no municipal life; which welcomed all the scum, riffraff, and _ribauderie_ of the country, and gave them harbor; which has always belonged to the Church, yet has never been expected to have any morals; always its streets and courts have been crammed with thieves and drabs, gamesters, sporting men, cheats, and bullies; and beside the streets always stood the stately Monastery, the quiet cloister, the noble Church, the splendid Court, the gallant following of king and noble, and the gathering of grave and responsible knights and burgesses assembled to carry on the affairs of the country. I have invited you to restore Thorney as it was long ago, the stepping-stone and halting-place of all the trade of the island, busy and noisy; the life of the Benedictine in his monastery; the consecration of the Anchorite; the strange life of the mediæval Sanctuary;

the Palace of the Plantagenets; the Palace of the Stuarts; the Masques of James I.; the Parliamentary side of the last century; and the streets and slums. A great many things have been purposely omitted from these pages which belong to Westminster and have taken place there. For instance, there is the School with its long line of scholars, afterward famous. Nothing has been said about the School. There is, again, the Abbey Church. Very little has been said about the buildings; the additions, alterations, restorations: nothing at all has been said about the monuments which crowd its aisles and transepts. There is Westminster Hall. Very little, indeed, has been said here of the things done within its walls: the Coronation Banquets; the Trials; the Receptions. Nothing has been said concerning the executions and the tournaments which have taken place in Palace Yard, Old and New. Nothing has been said about the New Houses of Parliament. These things, and a great many more which the reader can remember for himself, have been omitted from these pages, partly because they belong to the history of this country and may be found in all Histories--they happened in Westminster and they belong to Great Britain; partly because they have already been so well treated that it is unnecessary and would be even presumptuous for me to attempt them; and partly because the space at my disposal is limited, though the materials are practically inexhaustible. These chapters are not to be considered as a History of Westminster, or a Survey: they are pictures of the City with its Palace, its Abbey, its Sanctuary, and its slums, from a time when London did not exist until the present day.

APPENDIX.

THE COURT OF CHARLES II.

The popular imagination pictures the Court of Charles the Second as a place of no ceremony or state or dignity whatever; where the King strolled about the courts and where there was singing of boys, laughter of women, tinkling of guitars, playing of cards, making merriment without stint or restraint, a Bohemia of Courts. We have been taught to think thus of King Charles’s Court by the historian who has seized on one or two scenes and episodes--for instance, the last Sunday evening of Charles’s life; by the writer of romance; by the chronicler of scandal; by the Restoration poets and the Restoration dramatists.

This view of Whitehall after the Restoration is, to say the least, incomplete. Charles had a Court, like every other sovereign; he had a Court with officers many and distinguished; there were Court ceremonies which he had to go through; that part of his private life which is now paraded as if it was his public life was conducted with some regard to public opinion. What his Court really was, may be learned from a little book by Thomas de Laune, Gentleman, called “The Present State of London,” published in the year 1681, for George Lurkin, Enoch Prosser, and John How, at the Rose and Crown. Since we have seen what were the chief offices of the Confessor’s Court and of Richard the Second’s Court, it may be useful to learn, from this book, the offices and management of a Stuart’s Court.

_Its Government, Ecclesiastical, Civil, and Military._

1. _Ecclesiastical._--The Dean of the King’s Chapel was generally a Bishop. The Chapel itself is a Royal Peculiar, exempt from episcopal visitation. The Dean chose the Sub-Dean or _Precentor Capellæ_; thirty-six gentlemen of the Chapel, of whom twelve were priests and twenty-four singing clerks, twelve children, three organists, four vergers, a sergeant, two yeomen, and a Groom of the Chapel. The King had his private oratory, where every day one of the chaplains read the service of the day. Twelve times a year the King, attended by his principal nobility, offered a sum of money in gold, called the Byzantine gift, because it was formerly coined at Byzantium, in recognition of the Grace of God which made him King. James the First used a coin with the legend, on one side: “Quid retribuam Domino pro omnibus quæ retribuit mihi?” and on the other side: “Cor contritum et humiliatum non despiciet Deus.”

In addition there were forty-eight Chaplains in Ordinary, of whom four every month waited at Court.

The Lord High Almoner, usually the Bishop of London, disposed of the King’s alms; he received all _deodands_ and _bona felonum de se_ to be applied to that purpose. Under him were a Sub-Almoner, two Yeomen, and two Grooms of the Almonry. There was also a Clerk of the Closet, whose duty was to resolve doubts on spiritual matters. In the reign of good King Charles the duties of this officer were probably light.

2. _The Civil Government._--The chief officer was the Lord Steward. He had authority over all the officers of the Court except those of the Chapel, the Chamber, and the Stable. He was Judge of all offences committed within the precincts of the Court and within the Verge. In the King’s Presence the Lord Steward carried a white staff; when he went abroad the White Staff was borne before him by a footman bareheaded. His salary was £100 a year with sixteen Dishes daily and allowances of wine, beer, etc. The Lord Chamberlain had the supervision of all officers belonging to the King’s Chamber, such as the officers of the wardrobe, of the Revels, of the music, of the plays, of the Hunt; the messengers, Trumpeters, Heralds, Poursuivants, Apothecaries, Chyrurgeons, Barbers, Chaplains, etc.

The third great officer was the Master of the Horse. His duties are signified by his title, which was formerly _comes stabuli_ or Constable.

Under these principal officers were the Treasurer of the Household, the Comptroller, the Cofferer, the Master of the Household, the two Clerks of the Green Cloth, the sergeants, messengers, etc.

In the Compting House was held the Court of Green Cloth, which sat every day with authority to maintain the Peace within a circle of twelve miles radius. It was so called from the color of the cloth spread upon the table.

The chief Clerk was an official of great power and dignity; he received the King’s guests; kept the accounts; looked after the provisions and had charge of the Pantry, Buttery, and Cellar. There were clerks under him. The Knight Harbinger with three Gentlemen Harbingers and seven Yeoman Harbingers provided lodgings for the King’s Guests, Ambassadors, officers, and servants.

The Knight Marshal was Judge in all cases in which a servant of the King was concerned; he was also one of the Judges in the Court of the Marshalsea. He had six Provost Marshals or Vergers in scarlet coats to wait upon him.

The Servants in ordinary were the Gentlemen of the Bedchamber, and the Groom of the Stole, the Vice-Chamberlain, the Keeper of the Privy Purse, the Treasurer of the Chamber, the Master of the Robes, the twelve Grooms of the Bedchamber, the six Pages of the Bedchamber, the four Gentlemen Ushers of the Privy Chamber, the forty-eight Gentlemen of the Privy Chamber, the six Grooms of the Privy Chamber, the Library Keeper, Black Rod, the eight Gentlemen Ushers of the Presence Chamber, the fourteen Grooms of the Great Chamber, six gentlemen waiters, four cup-bearers, four carvers, four servers, four esquires of the Body, the eight servers of the Chamber, the Groom Porter, sixteen sergeants at arms, four other sergeants at arms who attended on the Speaker and on the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. There were four Physicians in ordinary, a Master and Treasurer of the Jewel House, three Yeomen of the Jewel House, a Master of the Ceremonies with an assistant and a marshal; three Kings at Arms, six Heralds, and four Poursuivants at Arms; a Geographer, a Historiographer, a Hydrographer, a Cosmographer, a Poet Laureate, and a Notary.

These were the Officers of the Wardrobe: the Great Wardrobe, the standing wardrobes at Hampton, Windsor, and other places, and the Removing Wardrobe which was carried about with the King. For the wardrobes were one Yeoman, two Grooms, and three Pages.

For the Office of Tents and Pavilions were two Masters, four Yeomen, one Groom, one Clerk Comptroller, and one Clerk of the Tents. The Master of the Revels ordered the plays and masques, &c. He had one Yeoman and one Groom. Attached to the Master of the Robes were workmen, each in his own craft. The Royal Falconer had thirty-three officers under him. The Master of Buckhounds had thirty-four assistants; the Master of the otter hounds had five under him. So had the Master of the Harriers. The Master of the Ordnance had a Lieutenant, a master Armourer, and seventeen under officers. There were forty-two messengers of the Chamber. There were sixty-four Musicians in ordinary; fifteen trumpeters and kettle drummers; seven drummers and fifes; two Apothecaries; two Chyrurgeons; two Barbers; three Printers; one Printer of Oriental tongues. There were bookseller, stationer, bookbinder, silkman, woollen draper, post-master, and a Master of Cock-fighting.

There were two Embroiderers, one Serjeant Skinner, two Keepers of the Privy Lodging; two Gentlemen, and two Yeomen of the Bows; one Cross-bow maker; one Fletcher; one Cormorant keeper; one Hand-gun maker; one master and marker of Tennis; one Mistress Semstress, and one Laundress; one Perspective-maker, one Master-Fencer, one Haberdasher of Hats, one Combmaker, one Sergeant Painter, one Painter, one Limner, one Picture-Drawer, one Silver-Smith, one Goldsmith, one Jeweller, one Peruque-maker, one Keeper of Pheasants and Turkies. Joyner, Copier of Pictures, Watch-maker, Cabinet-maker, Lock-Smith, of each one. Game of Bears and Bulls, one Master, one Sergeant, one Yeoman. Two Operators for the Teeth. Two Coffer-bearers for the Back-stairs, one Yeoman of the Leash, fifty-five Watermen. Upholsterer, Letter Carrier, Foreign Post, Coffee Maker, of each one.

Ten Officers belonging to Gardens, Bowling-Greens, Tennis-Court, Pall-Mall, Keeper of the Theatre at Whitehall. Cutler, Spurrier, Girdler, Corn-Cutter, Button-maker, Embosser, Enameler, of each one. Writer, Flourisher, and Embellisher, Scenographer, or Designer of Prospects, Letter-Founder, of each one. Comedians, Seventeen Men, and Eight Women, Actors.

Gunner, Gilder, Cleaner of Pictures, Scene Keeper, Coffer-maker, Wax Chandler, of each one. Keeper of Birds and Fowl in St. James’s-Park, one. Keeper of the Volery, Coffee-club-maker, Sergeant-Painter, of each one; with divers other officers and servants under the Lord Chamberlain to serve his Majesty upon occasion.

As to the Officers under the Master of the Horse, there are Twelve Querries so called of the French Escayer, derived from Escury, a Stable. Their office is to attend the King on Hunting or Progress, or on any occasion of Riding Abroad, to help His Majesty up and down from his Horse, &c. Four of these are called Querries of the Crown-Stable, and the others are called Querries of the Hunting-Stable. The Fee to each of these is only £20 yearly, according to the Ancient Custom; but they have allowance for Diet, to each £100 yearly, besides Lodgings, and two Horse-Liveries.

Next is the Chief Avener, from Avener, Oats, whose yearly Fee is £40. There is, moreover, one Clerk of the Stable, four Yeomen-Riders, four Child-Riders, Yeomen of the Stirrup, Sergeant-Marshal, and Yeoman-Farriers, four Groom-Farriers, Sergeants of the Carriage, three Surveyors, a Squire and Yeomen-Sadlers, four Yeomen-Granators, four Yeomen-Purveyors, a Yeoman-Pickman, a Yeoman-Bitmaker, four Coach-men, eight Litter-men, a Yeoman of the Close Wagon, sixty-four Grooms of the Stable, whereof thirty are called Grooms of the Crown Stable, and thirty-four of the Hunting and Pad-Stable. Twenty-six Footmen in their Liveries, to run by the King’s Horse. All these Places are in the Gift of the Masters of the Horse.

There is besides these an antient Officer, called Clerk of the Market, who within the Verge of the King’s Household, is to keep a Standard of all Weights and Measures, and to burn all that are false. From the Pattern of this Standard, all the Weights and Measures of the Kingdom are to be taken.

There are divers other considerable Officers, not Subordinate to the Three Great Officers, as the Master of the Great Wardrobe, Post-Master, Master of the Ordnance, Warden of the Mint, &c.

Upon the King are also attending in his Court the Lords of the Privy Council, Secretaries of State, the Judges, the College of Civilians, the King’s Council at Law, the King’s Serjeants at Law, the Masters of Requests, Clerks of the Signet, Clerks of the Council, Keeper of the Paper-Office, or Papers of State, &c.

3. _Military._--There is always a Military Force to preserve the King’s Person, which are His Guards of Horse and Foot. The Guards of Horse are in Number 600 Men, well armed and equipped; who are generally Young Gentlemen of considerable Families, who are there made fit for Military Commands. They are divided into Three Troops, viz.: the Kings Troop, distinguished by their Blew Ribbons and Carbine Belts, their Red Hooses, and Houlster-Caps, Embroidered with His Majesties Cypher and Crown. The Queens Troops by Green Ribbons, Carbine Belts, covered with Green Velvet, and Gold Lace, also Green Hooses and Houlster-Caps, embroidered with the same Cypher and Crown. And the Dukes Troop by Yellow Ribbons and Carbine Belts, and Yellow Hooses, Embroidered as the others. In which Troops, are 200 Gentlemen, besides Officers. Each of these Three Troops is divided into Four Squadrons or Divisions, two of which consisting of one hundred Gentlemen, and Commanded by one Principal Commissioned Officer, two Brigadiers, and two Sub-Brigadiers, with two Trumpets mount the Guards one day in six, and are Relieved in their turns. Their Duty is always by Parties from the Guard, to attend the Person of the King, the Queen, the Duke, and the Duchess, wheresoever they go near home, but if out of town, they are attended by Detachments of the said Three Troops.

Besides these, there is a more strict Duty and Attendance Weekly on the Kings Person on Foot, wheresoever he walks, from His Rising to His going to Bed, by one of the Three Captains, who always waits immediately next the King’s own Person, before all others, carrying in his hand an Ebony-staff or Truncheon, with a Gold head, Engraved with His Majesty’s Cypher and Crown. Near him also attends a Principal Commissioned Officer, with an Ebony-staff, and Silver head, who is ready to Relieve the Captain on occasion; and at the same time also, two Brigadiers, having also Ebony-staves, headed with Ivory, and Engraven as the others.

There is added a Troop of Genadiers to each Troop of Guards, one Division of which mounts with a Division of the Troop to which they belong; they never go out on small Parties from the Guard, only perform Centry-Duty on Foot, and attend the King also on Foot when he walks abroad, but always March with great Detachments. The King’s Troop consists of a Captain, two Lieutenants, three Sergeants, three Corporals, two Drums, two Hautbois, and eighty private Souldiers mounted. The Queens troop, of a Captain, two Lieutenants, two Sergeants, two Corporals, two Hautbois, and sixty private Souldiers mounted. The Dukes Troop consists of the like number with the Queens.

The Captains of His Majesties Guards always Command as Eldest Colonels of Horse; the Lieutenants as Eldest Lieutenant-Colonels of Horse; the Cornets and Guidons, as Eldest Majors of Horse; the Quartermasters, as Youngest Captains of Horse; the Brigadiers as Eldest Lieutenants of Horse; and amongst themselves every Officer, according to the Date of His Commission, takes precedency, when on Detachments, but not when the Three Troops march with their Colours, for then the Officer of the Eldest Troop, commands those of equal Rank with him in the others, though their Commission be of Elder Date.

Next immediately after the Three Troops of Guards, His Majestys Regiment of Horse, Commanded by the Earl of Oxford takes place, and the Colonel of it is to have precedency, after the Captains of the Guards, and before all other Colonels of Horse, whatsoever change may be of the Colonel; and all the Officers thereof, in their proper Degree, are to take place according to the Dates of their Commissions. As to the Foot, the King’s Regiment, Commanded by the Honorable Colonel John Russel, takes place of all other Regiments, and the Colonel thereof is always to precede as the first Colonel. The Coldstream Regiment, Commanded by the Earl of Craven, takes the next; the Duke of Yorks Regiment next, then His Majestys Holland Regiment, Commanded by the Earl of Mulgrave, and all other Colonels, according to the dates of their Commissions. All other Regiments of Horse and Foot, not of the Guards, take place according to their Respective Seniority, from the time they were first Raised, and no Regiment loses its precedency by the Death of its Colonel.

At the Kings House, there is a guard for his Person, both above and below stairs. In the Presence Chamber, the Band of Gentlemen Pensioners wait, instituted by King Henry the VII., and chosen out of the best and antientest Families in England, to be a Guard to His Majesties Person, and also to be a Nursery to breed up hopeful Gentlemen, and fit them for Employments, Civil and Military, as well abroad as at home; as Deputies of Ireland, Embassadors in Foreign Parts, Counsellors of State, Captains of the Guard, Governors of Places, Commanders in the Wars, both by Sea and Land, of all which these have been Examples. They are to attend the King’s Person to and from His Chappel, only as far as the Privy Chamber: also in all other Solemnity, as Coronations, publick Audience of Embassadors, &c. They are 40 in number, over whom there is a Captain, usually some Peer of the Realm, a Lieutenant, a Standard-Bearer, and a Clerk of the Check. They wait half at a time quarterly. Those in quarter wait daily five at a time upon the King in the House, and when He walks abroad. Upon extraordinary occasions, all of them are Summoned. Their ordinary Arms are Gilt Pole-Axes. Their Arms on Horse-back in time of War, are Cuirassiers Arms, with Sword and Pistol. These are only under their own Officers, and are always Sworn by the Clerk of the Check, who is to take notice of such as are absent when they should be upon their duty. Their Standard in time of war, is a Cross Gules in a Field Argent, also 4 bends.

In the first Room above Stairs, called the Guard-Chamber, attend the Yeomen of the Guard of His Majesties body; whereof there were wont to be 250 Men of the best quality under Gentry, and of larger Stature than ordinary (for every one was to be Six Foot high) there are at present 100 Yeomen in dayly waiting, and 70 more not in waiting, and as any of the 100 die, his place is filled up out of the 70. These wear Scarlet Coats Down to the Knee, and Scarlet Breeches, both richly guarded with black Velvet, and rich Badges upon their Coats both before and behind, moreover, black Velvet round broad Crown’d Caps, with Ribbons of the King’s Colour; one half of them of late bear in their hands Harquebuzes, and the other half Pastizans, with large Swords by their Sides; they have Wages and Diet allowed them. Their office is to wait upon the King in His standing Houses, 40 by Day, and 20 to Watch by Night; about the City to wait upon the Kings Person abroad by Water or Land.

* * * * *

The Kings Palace Royal (_ratione Regiæ dignitatis_) is exempted from all Jurisdiction of any Court, Civil, or Ecclesiastick, but only to the Lord Steward, and in his absence, to the Treasurer and Comptroller of the Kings Household, with the Steward of the Marshalsea, who by vertue of their Office, without Commission, may Hear and Determin all Treasons, Fellonies, Breaches of the Peace, Committed within the Kings Court or Palace. The Orders and Rules for the Demeanor of all Officers and Servants, are hung upon Tables in several Rooms at the Court, and Signed with the Kings own hand, worthy to be read of all Strangers.

The Court or House where the King resides, is accounted a Place so Sacred, that if any Man presume to strike another there, and only draw Blood, his Right Hand shall be cut off, and he committed to perpetual Imprisonment, and Fined. All occasions of striking are also there forbidden.

The Court of England, for Magnificence, Order, Number and Quality of Officers, rich Furniture, Entertainment and Civility to Strangers, and for plentiful Tables, might compare with the best in Christendom, and far excels most Courts abroad. It hath for a long time been a Pattern of Hospitality and Charity, to the Nobility and Gentry of England. All Noblemen or Gentlemen, Subjects or Strangers, were freely entertained at the plentiful Tables of His Majesties officers. Divers Dishes were provided every day extraordinary for the King’s Honour. Two hundred and fourty Gallons of Beer a day, were allowed at the Buttery-Bar for the Poor, besides all the broken Meat, Bread, &c., gathered into Baskets, and given to the Poor, at the Court-Gates, by Two Grooms, and Two Yeomen of the Almonry, who have Salaries of His Majesty for that Service. The Lord Almoner hath the Privilege to give the Kings Dish, to whatsoever Poor Man he pleases; that is, the first Dish at Dinner which is set upon the Kings Table, or in stead thereof fourpence a day (which anciently was equivalent to four Shillings now); next he distributes to 24 poor men, named by the Parishioners of the Parish adjacent to the Kings Place of Residence, to each of them fourpence in money, a Two-penny Loaf, and a Gallon of Beer, or instead thereof three pence in Money, equally to be divided among them every Morning at seven of the Clock at the Court-Gate. The Sub-Almoner is to Scatter new-coined Two-pences in the Towns and Places where the King passes through in his Progresses, to a certain Sum by the Year. Besides, there are many poor Pensioners, either because so old that they are unfit for Service, or the Widows of any of the Kings Servants that dyed poor, who have a Competency duly paid them: Besides, there are distributed among the Poor the larger Offerings which the King gives in Collar Days.

The magnificent and abundant plenty of the King’s Tables, hath caused amazement in Foreigners. In the Reign of King Charles I. there were daily in his Court 86 Tables well furnished each Meal, whereof the Kings Tables had 28 Dishes, the Queens 24, 4 other Tables 16 Dishes each, 3 other 10 Dishes, 12 other 7 Dishes, 17 other 5 Dishes, 3 other 4, 32 had 3, and 13 had each two; in all about 500 Dishes each Meal, with Bread, Beer, Wine, and all other things necessary. There was spent yearly in the Kings House of gross Meat 1500 Oxen, 7000 Sheep, 1200 Veals, 300 Porkers, 400 Sturks or young Beefs, 6800 Lambs, 300 Flitches of Bacon, and 26 Boars. Also 140 dozen of Geese, 250 dozen of Capons, 470 dozen of Hens, 750 dozen of Pullets, 1470 dozen of Chickens, for Bread 36400 Bushels of Wheat, and for Drink 600 Tun of Wine, and 1700 Tun of Beer. Moreover, of Butter 46,640, together with the Fish, and Fowl, Venison, Fruit, Spice proportionably. This prodigious plenty in the Kings Court caused Foreigners to put a higher value upon the King, and was much for the Honour of the Kingdom. The King’s Servants being Men of Quality, by His Majestys special Order went to Westminster-Hall in Term-Time, to invite Gentlemen, to eat of the King’s Acates or Viands, and in Parliament-time, to invite the Parliament-men thereto.

On the Thursday before Easter, called Maundy Thursday, the King, or his Lord Almoner, was wont to wash the Feet of as many poor Men, as His Majesty had reigned years, and then to wipe them with a Towel (according to the Pattern of our Saviour), and then to give everyone of them two Yards and a half of Woollen Cloth, to make a Suit of Cloaths; also Linnen Cloth for two Shirts, and a pair of Stockings, and a pair of Shoes, three Dishes of Fish in Wooden Platters, one of Salt Salmon, a second of Green Fish or Cod, a third of Pickle-Herrings, Red Herrings, and Red Sprats, a Gallon of Beer, a Quart Pottle of Wine, and four six-penny Loaves of Bread, also a Red-Leather-Purse with as many single Pence as the King is years old, and in another Purse as many Shillings as the King hath reigned Years. The Queen doth the like to divers poor Women.

The Form of Government is by the wisdom of many Ages, so contrived and regulated, that it is almost impossible to mend it. The Account (which is of so many Natures, and is therefore very difficult, must pass through many hands, and is therefore very exact) is so wisely contrived and methodized, that without the Combination of everyone of these following Officers, viz., the Cofferer, a Clerk of the Green-Cloth, a Clerk Comptroller, a Clerk of the Kitchin, of the Spicery or Avery, or a particular Clerk, together with the conjunction of a Purveyor and Waiter in the Office, it is impossible to defraud the King of a Loaf of Bread, of a Pint of Wine, a Quart of Beer, or Joint of Meat, or Money, or anything else.

INDEX.

Abbey, traditional origin of, 6

---- foundation by Sebert, 21

---- miraculous hallowing of, 21

---- church, relics in, 24

---- the, 98

---- Henry III.’s alterations, 145

---- tombs in, 162

---- coronations, 165

---- ---- Henry IV., 165

---- ---- Elizabeth, queen of Henry VII., 167

---- ---- Henry VIII., 168

---- ---- Elizabeth, 168

---- ---- George III., 170

---- ---- Victoria, 170

Aix Cathedral, 27

Almshouses, 341

Anchorite, the, 132

Apollo, Temple of, 20

Archers, Richard II.’s, 41

Aristocracy, history of, 325

---- caste, 330

Bacon, 64

Bailly, Inner and Outer, 48

Banquet, royal, 269, 277

Bardwell’s accounts of Westminster, 5

Barton Street, 338

Benedictines, 110

Black Friars, 253

Blue Coat School, 353, 357, 361

Breaking of sanctuary by Richard III., 182

Broken cross, 201

Brother Ambrosius, 111

Burdett, Sir Francis, 375

Burtt and Harrod, story of robbery of King’s Treasury, 150

Caxton, 211

---- birth and origin, 217

---- apprenticed, 219

Caxton at Bruges, 223

---- house of, 231

---- marriage of, 234

---- at Westminster, 235

---- death of, 246

Charles II., Court of, 381

Charter, Edgar’s, 29

Chaucer, 162

Chaucer’s monk, 126

Chess, 235

Chivalry, 38

City without citizens, 1

---- without industries, 2

---- without Folk’s Mote, 2

---- of the Abbot, 2

Civil Government, 382

Clock Tower, 82

Cnut, King, 35

Cnut’s “Hus Carles,” 41

College buildings, 53

Consecration, service of, 139

Coronation of Elizabeth, 168

---- of George III., 170

Coronations in Abbey, 165

Court, itinerant, 40

---- of Requests, Whitehall, 49

---- of Exchequer, 54

---- under Elizabeth, 267

---- in reign of Elizabeth and James, 267

---- of James I., 277

---- of Charles II., 381

Cromwell’s prisoners, 374

Cross of Neath, 155

Crypt of St. Stephen’s Chapel, 53

Cunningham, Peter, 216

Dean, authority of the, 4

“Desert” of Westminster, 363

Destruction of first church on Thorney, 20

Dissolution, 4

“Domus Anglorum,” 223

Drokenesford, John de, 156

Dyfan and Ffagan, 20

Eagle Tavern, 207

Edgar’s charter, 29

Edward the Confessor, 40

Elections: that of 1741, 294

---- ---- 1784, 294

Elizabeth, queen of Henry VII., in Abbey, 167

---- in Abbey, 168

---- coronation pageant, 168

Elizabeth Woodville, queen of Edward IV., 182

Emanuel Hospital, 345

Essenes, rule of the, 30

Evil May-day, 87

Execution in Tothill Fields, 370

Extent of King’s Palace, 61

Fair of St. Edward’s Day, 372

Ffagan and Dyfan, 20

Fight between London and Westminster, 78

First church on Thorney, founding of, 20

George III. in Abbey, 170

Gourdemains, the witch, 370

Great College Street, 337

Great Seal, seizure of, 306

Green Coat Hospital, 346

Grey Coat Hospital, 351

Gunpowder Plot, 78

Harrod and Burtt, story of robbery of King’s Treasury, 150

Henry II., 40

---- IV. in Abbey, 165

---- VIII. in Abbey, 168

Historical associations of the Palace, 62

Holbein Gate, 262

Horseferry Road, 359

Hospital, Green Coat, 346

---- Grey Coat, 351

House of Lords, old, 49

Houses of Parliament, 291

Hugh de Steyninge, 100

Inigo Jones, 251

---- ---- his design, 260, 261

Inner and Outer Bailly, 48

Invasion of Saxons, 20

Islip, Abbot, 239

Jews, massacre of the, 96

Kensington Palace, 250

Kilburn, the cell of, 147

King’s House, removal to Whitehall, 76

King’s Palace of Westminster, 38 _et seq._

---- ---- ---- Painted Chamber, 49

---- ---- ---- extent of, 61

King Street, 186, 335

---- worthy inhabitants, 332

Knights, ceremony of creation, 165

Large, Robert, 221

Loftie’s theory of origin, 31

Lollardism, 104

London, map of, 28

---- a city of palaces, 39

---- old House of Lords, 49

---- and Westminster, quarrel between, 78

Long Meg, 207

Marsh, great, round Thorney Island, 8

Masque, “Hue and Cry after Cupid,” 283

Masques, 283

Matthew of Westminster, 151

May-day, Evil, 87

May-pole, the, 95

Members for City, 4

Messengers, service of, 71

Milton, 337

Miracle of Hallowing, 21

Mob in Old Palace Yard, 78

Monastic life, services, 103

---- ---- rules, 106

---- ---- state of abbot, 118

---- ---- diversions, 122

---- ---- Scriptorium, 146

Monks, life of, 146

Murder and sacrilege, 160

Neighborhood of Sanctuary, 186

New Palace Yard, 79

Officers of State, 44

Old House of Lords, 49

Old Palace Yard, 78

Old Pye Street, 365

Orchard Street, 365

Ordeal of battle in Tothill Fields, 370

Pageants, splendor of Richard II., 46, 65

Painted Chamber, 49, 64

Palace, picturesque character of the, 61

---- historical association of, 62

---- early morning in the, 65

Palace Yard in 15th century, 82

Park Lane, 32

Parliament suspended, 161

Pickering Cup, 206

Picturesque character of the Palace, 61

Pillory, New Palace Yard, Perkin Warbeck, 82

---- ---- ---- ---- Titus Oates, 82

---- ---- ---- ---- William Prynne, 82

Podelicote, Richard, 147

Prince’s Chamber, 49

Printing, invention of, 228

Prisoners of Cromwell, 374

Quarrel between London and Westminster, 78

Queen of Henry VII., Elizabeth, in Abbey, 167

Queen Anne’s Gate, 336

Queen Square, 336

Raleigh, 64

---- execution of, 78

Ramage, John de, 155

Recuyell, 234

Red Pale, 208

---- ---- sign of, 211

Refugees in Sanctuary, 182

Richard II., Palace in his time, 38

---- ---- his archers, 41

---- ---- his Court, 44

---- ---- ---- ---- Harding’s description, 45

---- ---- built Tower, 57

---- ---- asserts himself, 73

Robbery of Royal Treasury, 147

Rochester Row, 346

Roman civilization, 12

Rosamond’s Pond, 369

Rule of the Essenes, 30

Sacrilege and murder, 160

Sacrist, 154

Sailor’s riot, 318

St. Andrew Undershaft Church, 85

St. James’s Park, 369

St. Katherine Cree curate, 95

St. Margaret’s Church, 354, 355

---- ---- parish of, 3

St. Stephen’s Chapel, 53

---- ---- ---- crypt of, 53

Salutation Inn, 338

Sanctuary, 173

---- theory of, 174

---- refugees, 182

---- breaking of, by Richard III., 182

---- neighborhood of, 186

Saxon Church, destruction of, by Danes, 27

Saxons, invasion of, 20

Scrope _v._ Grosvenor, 281

Sebert, founder of Abbey, 21

Service, the, of the Palace, 41

---- of consecration, 139

Silent City, 4

Skelton, John, 194, 195

“Slender Billy,” 373

Slums, 363

Snipe in South Kensington, 30

Snuff-box, the Westminster, 373

Spanish prisoner, 159

Speaker’s Court, 319

Spenser, poet, 335

Stanhope, Anne, 339

Star Chamber, 54

Steyninge, Hugh de, 100

Taverns, 340

Thames highway, 332

Theory of Sanctuary, 174

Thorney Island, 3, 5, 6

---- ---- evidence of situation, 7

---- ---- ---- of excavation, 9

---- ---- ---- of ancient monuments, 11

Thorney Island, Roman remains on, 10

---- ---- place of trade, 16

---- ---- evidence of tradition, 19

---- ---- founding of first church, 20

---- ---- destruction of first church on, 20

---- ---- evidence of history, 23

---- ---- area of, 34

Tombs in Abbey, 162

Tothill Fields, 366, 372

---- ---- execution in, 370

---- ---- tournaments in, 370

---- ---- ordeal of battle in, 370

---- ---- Cromwell’s entry, 374

Tournaments in Tothill Fields, 370

Tower built by Richard II., 57

Trade route across Thorney Island, 15

Traditional origin of the Abbey, 6

Vanished palace, 248

Victoria in Abbey, 170

Wall of defense, 46

Watling Street, 20, 32

Westminster, Bardwell’s account of, 5

---- older than London, 33

---- King’s Palace of, 38 _et seq._

---- ---- ---- officers of state, 44

Westminster, King’s Palace of, service in, 44

---- ---- ---- Prince’s Chamber, 49

---- ---- ---- St. Stephen’s Chapel, 53

---- ---- ---- Painted Chamber, 49

---- and London, quarrel between, 78

---- elections, 293

---- streets of, 331

---- hustings, 1868, 307

---- “Desert” of, 363

---- the snuff-box, 373

---- slums, 363

Westminster Abbey, arms of, 99

---- ---- Scriptorium, noted, 146

---- ---- monuments of men of letters, 162

---- ---- Addison on, 164

Westminster Hall, 54, 85

Whitehall and Court of Requests, 49

Whitehall Palace, 248

---- ---- description, 259

---- ---- destruction, 265

---- ---- plan of, 280

Woffington, Peg, 336

Wolsey, Cardinal, 197, 257

Wool staple, 85

Wray, Sir Cecil, 307

---- ---- ---- posters, etc., 311

York House, 257

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Stanley, “Westminster Abbey,” p. 7.

[2] Edward the Confessor’s officers were named respectively the Marshal; the Stallere (_Comes stabuli_, or Constable); the Bower-Thane (Chamberlain); the Dish-Thane (Seneschal); the Hordere (Treasurer); with, of lower rank, Carver, Cup-bearer, Butler, Seal-bearer, Wardrobe-Thane, Harper, and Headsman.

[3] The rules, it is true, were relaxed in the case of scholars engaged upon any learned work, and there must have been some such scholars at Westminster.

[4] Here are some of the lesser offices: Infirmarer, Porter, Refectioner, Hospitaller, Chamberlain, Keeper of the Granary, Master of the Common House, Orcharder, Operarius, Registrar, Auditor, Secretary, Butler, Keeper of Baskets, Keeper of the Larder, Baker, Brewer, Carpenter, Carver, Sculptor, Bookbinder, Copyist, Conveyancer, etc.

[5] “King Richard II.”

[6] See Lacroix, _Les Arts au Moyen Age_, for a sensible _résumé_ of the whole question.

[7] The chine is always considered the nicest part of the pork, either roasted or boiled, and is monstrous fine eating when the Norfolk Turkies are in season.

[8] The tail of a little roasted pig is a nice morsel.

[9] Porkey was the Sow’s name.

[10] Patty is an abbreviation of the Christian name Martha. Patty contains five letters--Martha has six.

[11] A baker’s dozen is thirteen.

[12] Stye is the name of a place where hogs, pigs, and sows are usually kept.

[13] China is a great place in the Eastern world, where I have never been in. But I have cups and saucers, and tea, and a mandarin, and two fire screens that were actually made there.

[14] Sage chopped in the brains is very common, and if the little tongue is put among them, it makes the dish better.

[15] The place which contains the entrails, and when stuffed with sweet things is delicious.

[16] Egg sauce is common in Ireland with pigs.

[17] Potatoes--a vegetable something like a turnip, but more like an apple. They are sold in Covent Garden, and the Irish are fond of them.