In several cases, therefore, it is evident that the pomerium, or the space between the inhabited part of the town and the actual walls of its outer defence, was devoted to the Jews, who took up their residence there.

One circumstance which embittered the Church against the Jews was the spread of Judaism among certain classes. One Jewish list of martyrs includes twenty-two proselytes burnt in England, and even if the number be exaggerated, there is other evidence of Jewish proselytism in this country. To counteract the movement the Church founded a conversionist establishment in "New Street" on the site of the present Record Office. Here converts were supported for life, and the building continued to be utilized for this purpose down to the time of Charles II.



The classic pages of Sir Walter Scott's romances contain much which illustrates the popular antipathy against the Jews. The pictures he draws are, perhaps, somewhat over-coloured for the purpose of romance, but that they were not without foundation in fact is evident from the following curious incident relating to a Jew in London, narrated in the Chronicle of the Grey Friars of London, under the date 1256:—

"Thys yere a Jew felle in to a drawte on a satorday, and he wolde not be draune owte that day for the reverens of hys sabbot day, and sir Richard Clare, that tyme beynge erle of Gloucseter, seynge that he wolde not be drawne owte that day, he wolde not suffer hym to be drawne owte on the sonday, for the reverens of the holy sonday, and soo thus the false Jue perished and dyde therein."

Although there was a good deal of prejudice against the Jews, there is reason to think that the idea of anything approaching general ill-treatment of the race is erroneous. The Jews were useful to the King, and therefore, in all cases before the expulsion, excepting during the reign of King John, they enjoyed royal patronage and favour.

The evil of clipping or "sweating" the coin of the realm grew to such an extent during the latter half of the thirteenth century that strong measures had to be taken for its suppression. In November, 1278, the King gave orders for the immediate arrest of all suspected Jews and their Christian accomplices. They were brought to trial, and the result was that nearly three hundred Jews were found guilty and condemned to be hanged. This was during the mayoralty of Gregory de Rokesle (probably Ruxley, Kent), the chief assay master of King's mints, a great wool merchant, and the richest goldsmith of his time. This Mayor passed a series of ordinances against the Jews, including one to the effect that the King's peace should be kept between Christians and Jews, another forbidding butchers who were not freemen of the city buying meat from Jews to resell to Christians, or to buy meat slaughtered for the Jews and by them rejected. Still another ordinance provided that "No one shall hire houses from Jews, nor demise the same to them for them to live in outside the limits of the Jewry."

By the time of Edward I. the need for the financial aid of the Jews was no longer felt, and from that moment their fate in England was fixed. The canon law against usury was extended so as to include the Jews. They were henceforth forbidden to lend money on interest, and, as has been explained, owing to their religion they could not hold lands nor take up any trade. The expulsion followed as a matter of course in a few years.

In order to rearrange the national finances, Italians who had no religious difficulties were substituted for the Jews. Certain Jews, it is known, from time to time returned to London disguised as Italians, but it was not until the time of the Commonwealth, when Cromwell took a more tolerant view of the outcast Jews, and when the State recognised the legality of difference of creed, that the return of the Jews became possible. This event is fixed with some precision by the lease of the Spanish and Portuguese burial-ground at Stepney, which bears the date of February, 1657.

LONDON AS A WALLED TOWN

It is not by any means easy to imagine the present London as a walled town. The multiplicity of streets, the lofty and pretentious character of its buildings, and the immense suburban area of bricks and mortar which surrounds it, render it an extremely difficult task to picture in the mind's eye what the ancient city looked like when all the houses were enclosed by a lofty and substantial wall, largely of Roman masonry, and when admission could only be obtained by strongly defended gateways, approached by means of drawbridges spanning the encircling moat of City Ditch.



Whatever additions or reparations may have been made in the Middle Ages to the wall of London, there is no reason to doubt that the area it enclosed was that which its Roman builders had laid out, with the exception of an extension at the south-western corner made to enclose the house of the Black Friars. What happened to the wall of London when the Roman occupation of Britain was determined by the withdrawal of the legions is a matter which scarcely falls within the scope of this paper. Whether the place was abandoned, like other Roman walled towns, such as Silchester, etc., or whether it maintained a population throughout the dark ages, are questions which have exercised the ingenuity and imagination of several antiquarian authorities,[72] but it must be confessed that the evidence is insufficient to enable one to settle it conclusively.

Whatever may have been the early history of Londinium after the Romans left it, the fact remains that the limits and bounds of the actual city continued for many centuries afterwards. It is known that Alfred the Great caused the walls to be repaired; but the precise significance of this is not great, because he may have been merely carrying out a long-needed work, and from the very solid character of the Roman wall (judging from the fragments that remain) it seems scarcely conceivable that his operations extended lower than the battlements of the wall, unless indeed they comprised the freeing of the ditch and berme from vegetation, obstructions, or other kinds of weakness.

What the houses of London were like when Alfred repaired the wall is not known. Probably they were constructed of timber and were humble in size and ornamentation. It is doubtful if anything of the nature of a house built of masonry was constructed in London before the twelfth century. No trace of such a structure is known to remain, but there is reason to think that such buildings existed within the boundary of the city of London.

What the twelfth century house was like is well seen in the charming example standing close by the castle mound at Christchurch, Hampshire. In plan it is an oblong of modest proportions. The lowest storey was low-pitched and lighted by mere slits for windows. The first floor contained the principal rooms, which were lighted by double-light, round-headed windows. The whole idea was to obtain a residence which would be sufficiently strong to keep out robbers and resist fire.

Many of the architectural peculiarities of the old city of London which the Great Fire swept away may be attributed to the fact that the city was bounded by a wall too small for the requirements of the population. The problem of adequately housing the people of London must have become acute at a comparatively early period, certainly before the time of the dreadful pestilence commonly known as the Black Death (1348-1349).

The value of space within the city, and the jealousy with which the rights of property were guarded, are shown by the narrowness and crookedness of the streets and lanes. Every available inch was occupied by houses and shops, and as little as possible was devoted to thoroughfares. The sinuosity of the public ways indicates in another way the great value of land, because it obviously arose from the existence of individual properties, which were probably defined and occupied at an earlier period than the making of the roads.

Another circumstance which points to the same early settlement of property boundaries is the irregularity of the ground-plans of many of the city churches. This is observable in the case of churches which from their dedication or other reasons may be pronounced of Saxon foundation.



The economising of space was effected in two well-marked directions. Houses and shops were erected on old London Bridge, and half-timbered houses with many over-sailing storeys were very largely built in the city. There is an excellent representation of old London Bridge with its closely packed houses in Robert Prycke's bird's-eye view (here produced).

It may be well to add a word or two here to explain what is implied by the term half-timbered houses, popular ideas upon the subject being somewhat vague.

There are, in fact, several different interpretations as to its significance. One meaning of "half-timber" is trunks of wood split in half; but this is used mainly in connection with shipbuilding. One writer states that half-timber work is so called "because the timbers which show on the face are about the same width as the spaces between." Gwilt describes a half-timber building as "a structure formed of studding, with sills, lintels, struts, and braces, sometimes filled in with brick-work, and plastered over on both sides." Parker defines a half-timber house as having "foundations and the ground floor only of stone, the upper part being of wood." With these different definitions there is no wonder that popular ideas as to what a half-timber house actually is are rather hazy.

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 mediaeval 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 mediaeval 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 mediaeval 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.

* * * * *

"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 mediaeval 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 mediaeval period they were wearing blue cloaks in summer, and in winter blue coats or gowns, their stockings being of white broadcloth "sewed close up to their round slops or breeches, as if they were all but of one piece." Later on, none were allowed to wear "any girdle, point, garters, shoe-strings, or any kind of silk or ribbon, but stockings only of woollen yarn or kersey; nor Spanish shoes; nor hair with any tuft or lock, but cut short in decent and comely manner." If an apprentice broke these rules, or indulged in dancing or masking, or "haunting any tennis court, common bowling alley, cock-fighting, etc., or having without his master's knowledge any chest, trunk, etc., or any horse, dog or fighting-cock," he was liable to imprisonment. Chaucer gives an amusing picture of the fondness of the city apprentices for "ridings"—i.e., for the processions and pageants which took place when a king or queen entered the city in state, and such like joyful occasions—and for similar diversions:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



THE TEMPLE

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

Master of the Temple

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

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

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

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



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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We try in vain to reconstruct with any fullness the life of the lawyers and their apprentices at the Temple in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. But it is clear that, together with the buildings, they inherited some of the traditions. The old church remained their place of worship. In the old refectory they were served by "panier-men" on wooden platters and in wooden cups, as the Templars had been before them. The penalties inflicted for small misdemeanours, such as being "expelled the hall" and "put out of commons," were much the same as those prescribed in the "Rule" of the Templars, as drawn up by St. Bernard.

It is a curious coincidence that not long after the coming of the lawyers a change was introduced in the legal profession which recalls the organisation of the old military brotherhood. In 1333, according to Dugdale, the judges of the Court of Common Pleas received knighthood, and so became in a sense successors of the Knights Templars. The creation of sergeants-at-law (now abolished) goes further back, but it has been suggested that they were representatives of the freres serjens, the fratres servientes, of the old Order. Had the white linen coif worn by sergeants the same symbolical meaning as the Templars' white mantle? Was it, as some say, the survival of a linen headdress brought back by the Templars from the East? These are disputable points. At any rate, the common life at the Temple, with the associations which it recalled, cannot have been without its influence on the lawyers. Their numbers grew apace. By 1470 courses of legal studies had been organised, and each of the two Inns at the Temple had more (perhaps considerably more) than two hundred students—numbers amply sufficient to resist successfully any attempts on the part of the Lord Mayor, backed by the city apprentices, to enforce an illegal jurisdiction over the precincts. In the absence of maps and records we cannot trace with certainty the gradual extension of the buildings. Such names as Elm Court and Figtree Court suggest that in byegone days open spaces and garden plots were interspersed among the chambers. Not least among the amenities of the lawyers' goodly heritage was the large garden by the river side with its pretty fifteenth century story of the red and white roses. It has been said that Shakespeare in his well-known scene refers to the smallness of the hall in the phrase which he assigns to Suffolk:

"Within the Temple Hall we were too loud; The garden here is more convenient."

But do the words imply more than the obvious contrast between being indoors and in the open air, as regards noise? We have a companion picture to Shakespeare's garden-scene in Spenser's river-piece. Some people see in it a reference to "Brick Buildings" which stood on the site of what is now Brick Court:

"Those bricky towers The which on Themmes brode aged back do ride Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers; There whilome wont the Templer Knights to bide, Till they decayed through pride."

In 1540, on the dissolution of the Order of Knights Hospitallers, the two societies became yearly tenants of the Crown, and took over the charge of the fabric of the church. No change, however, was made in the ecclesiastical staff, John Mableston, sub-prior, William Ermestede, master of the Temple, and the two chaplains of the house being continued in their offices. There were modifications, of course, in the services of the church; but nowhere probably in London did the Reformation cause less interference with established custom. Dr. Ermestede, indeed, bridges over the critical interval between 1540 and 1560 in a remarkable way, for on Mary's accession he went back to the old form of worship, and then accepted a third change of religion under Elizabeth. The building of the beautiful Middle Temple Hall, soon after Elizabeth's accession, is associated with the name of Edmund Plowden (died 1585), whose fine monument stands in the triforium of the church. The work was begun during his treasurership in 1561, and in 1571 he "offered his account for the new buildings." In 1575 the fine carved oak screen was put up. Towards the cost of this contributions were made by the masters of the bench, the masters of "le Utter Barre," and other members of the society. In this hall took place the interesting Shakespearean performance recorded by John Manningham, barrister, in his diary (1601-2). "At our feast wee had a play called Twelve Night or what you will, much like the Commedy of Errores or Menechmi in Plautus, but most like and neere to that in Italian called Inganni. A good practise in it to make the steward beleeve his lady widdowe was in love with him," etc. The halls of the Inns of Court lent themselves very conveniently for dramatic representations at a time when there were no theatres in London. In 1561-2 "Gorboduc," one of the earliest of English plays, written by Thomas Sackville and Thomas Norton, members of the Inner Temple, was performed in the Inner Temple Hall before Queen Elizabeth, and in 1568 she was also present there at the performance of "Tancred and Gismund." Masques were frequently given in the halls of both societies during the early part of the seventeenth century, and with these some interesting literary names are connected, such as Francis Beaumont, William Browne, Michael Drayton, and John Selden.



The reign of James I. is of special importance in the history of the Temple, because the patent granted by him in 1608 relieved the two societies from what had been a somewhat precarious tenure of their property. As a mark of gratitude they spent L666 (about L3,500 at present value) on a gold cup for the king, which was subsequently pawned in Holland by Charles I. The outbreak of the Civil War in 1642 checked for a time the prosperity of the Temple. For two years the buildings were practically deserted, and readings and exercises ceased till the Commonwealth was established. From 1651 to 1654 every barrister and master of the bench before opening his lips in court had to take what was called "the engagement"—"I do declare and promise that I will be true and faithful to the Commonwealth of England, as it is now established without a king or a house of lords." Soon after the Restoration there came further troubles from plague and fire. Twelve deaths from the plague are recorded in the Burial Register for 1665, and the buildings were again for a time deserted. The great fire of 1666, the flames of which, after destroying King's Bench Walk, licked the east end of the Temple Church, was followed in 1678 by another fire which did much damage to the buildings of the Middle Temple, burned down the old cloisters (afterwards replaced by Wren's somewhat commonplace colonnade) and threatened the south-west angle of the church. A bird's-eye view made in 1671 and John Ogilby's plan of 1677 enable us to follow the process of reconstruction after the great fire, and at the same time call attention to the disfigurement of the church by the mean shops and small houses which had been built against its walls and even over its porch. It seems as if for a time all appreciation of the beauty of the buildings was lost. The Round Church, not being used for Divine service, became, like Paul's Walk, a rendezvous for business appointments, and the font was often specified in legal documents as the place where payment was to be made to complete some transaction. That is why the lawyer consulted by Hudibras advises his client while getting up his case to

"Walk the Round with Knights o' th' Posts[74] About the cross-legged Knights their hosts."

Still, in spite of its shortcomings, the seventeenth century has at least one claim upon the gratitude of those who worship in the Temple Church. The organ of Bernard Schmidt (Father Smith), purchased in 1686, still survives as the foundation of the modern instrument. The story of the Battle of the Organs has been often told. The masters of the bench were anxious to secure by competition the best possible make, and rival organs were set up in the church by Smith and Harris. The decision was eventually left to Judge Jeffreys, not apparently on account of his musical knowledge, but because he was Lord Chancellor at the time. The beautiful music of the Temple Church is thus strangely linked with a name not usually associated with sweetness or harmony.

A few only of the Temple buildings are named after eminent men, and the choice of names has been to some extent capricious or accidental. Among lawyers thus commemorated, no one will dispute the claims of Edmund Plowden, already mentioned. Hare Court preserves the memory not of Sir Nicholas Hare, Master of the Rolls in Mary's reign (died 1557), but of a nephew of his, a comparatively unknown Nicholas Hare, who rebuilt the chambers on the south side of the court. The present Harcourt Buildings replace earlier chambers erected during the treasurership of Sir Simon Harcourt, afterwards Lord Chancellor (died 1727). The eponymus of Tanfield Court was Sir Lawrence Tanfield, a well-known judge in his day, who resided there. We cannot but regret that more of the greatest legal names have not in this way been handed down as household words to posterity. Two great literary names do thus survive, but in neither case was the existing building the home of the man. Dr. Johnson's Buildings, rebuilt in 1857, recall nothing but the site of the chambers in which Johnson lived for a few years from 1760. Goldsmith Building, erected in 1861, stands in no relation to the poet save that it is near the stone which serves to mark (not very exactly) his burial place. Pious pilgrimages are still made yearly to that stone on November 10, the anniversary of his birth. Goldsmith died in the Temple in 1774, and from 1765 onwards he occupied chambers which still exist at 2, Brick Court. A commemorative tablet recently placed there raises the question whether the rooms on the north or on the south side of the staircase are properly described as "two pair right." Some years before Oliver Goldsmith removed to Brick Court, the Temple was the residence of another poet—William Cowper. His attempted suicide there in 1763 shows how bad for his melancholy temperament was a solitary life in chambers. Charles Lamb, on the other hand—as we see, for instance, from his essay on the Old Benchers of the Inner Temple—delighted in the Temple and all its ways. The sense of its charm may be said to have been born and bred in him, for he was born and spent his childhood in Crown Office Row. In later life, for seventeen years from 1800, he and his sister occupied chambers now no longer in existence, first in Mitre Court Buildings, and afterwards in Inner Temple Lane, from the back windows of which he looked upon the trees and pump in Hare Court. Lamb Building, of course, has nothing to do with Charles Lamb. It belongs to an earlier time, and its name is derived from the Agnus of the Middle Temple over its doorway. Within fifteen years of Lamb's departure from the Temple Thackeray was settled for a short time in the chambers in Hare Court, which were immortalised some twenty years later, in Pendennis. "Lamb Court," in which he places the chambers of George Warrington and Arthur Pendennis, is the result of a combination of Lamb Building and Hare Court. Other reminiscences of his life at the Temple may be found by the student of Thackeray in some of his other works. Dickens, though he never lived at the Temple, also betrays the influence of its charm. No one can walk through Fountain Court without thinking sometimes of Ruth Pinch.

Of the great lawyers who have occupied chambers in the Temple nothing can here be said. The settlement of the lawyers has now lasted for nearly six hundred years—almost four times as long as the tenure of the Knights Templars, and for the greater part of that time we find in every generation legal names which still survive in history, and which have been concerned with the making of history. The lists which have been compiled of distinguished members of the Inner and the Middle Temple are of great interest and importance. But even more important is the long, continuous history of the two societies. It has preserved for us such memorials of the Knights Templars as still survive. If the lawyers had never settled in the Temple, the Temple Church would probably have met with the fate which overtook the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, and all that could now be done would be to restore a ruin. There have been times, no doubt, in its past history when the church has suffered from neglect and ignorance, but on the whole the lawyers have shown a large-minded appreciation of their responsibilities. The last restoration of the building in 1841, in spite of one or two mistakes, was wonderfully successful. It was one of the earliest and best examples of the "Gothic revival" which was just beginning to set in over England. We owe to it, among other things, two interesting works on the Knights Templars and on the Temple Church by C. G. Addison (died 1866), who was one of the first lawyers in modern times to study the history of the Temple in connection with the original documents. During the last few years a great advance has been made in this direction, mainly by the labours of lawyers. The Calendar of the Inner Temple Records, with its full and learned introductions by F. A. Inderwick, K.C., Master of the Bench (died 1904), is never likely to be superseded; and the same may be said of The Middle Temple Records, with Index and Calendar, edited by C. Hopwood, K.C. (died 1904), Master of the Bench of that society. To these must be added A Catalogue of Notable Middle Templars, by Mr. John Hutchinson, and a privately printed list of Masters of the Bench of the Inner Temple from 1450 to 1883, with Supplement to 1900. Judge Baylis, K.C., Master of the Bench of the Inner Temple, has given much valuable information in his well-known work on the Temple Church, which has gone through several editions. More recently, Mr. H. Bellot, of the Inner Temple, Barrister-at-Law, has aimed at recording the legal, literary, and historic associations of the Inner and Middle Temple, and in a Bibliography appended to his book gives some idea of the immense mass of material which has accumulated round the history of the Temple. May "the two Learned and Honourable Societies of this House"—as they are designated in the Bidding Prayer used every Sunday in the Temple Church—long continue to be the home, not merely of professional learning, but of general culture.

FOOTNOTES:

[73] The Outer, or "outward," Temple passed into private ownership at an early date.

[74] A Knight of the (whipping) Post was a cant name for a disreputable person, who would be willing to give false evidence.



HOLBORN AND THE INNS OF COURT AND CHANCERY

BY E. WILLIAMS

Just as Holland denotes the hollow land, so Holborn, or Holeburn, implies the hollow bourne—the bourne or river in the hollow. This once forcible little stream descended four hundred feet in a journey of six miles, taking its rise in Ken Wood, the beautifully timbered estate of the Earls of Mansfield at Highgate. After passing through several ponds, skirting the existing Millfield Lane, it crossed the foot of West Hill and continued its course through what is now known as the Brookfield Stud Farm, till, somewhat to the north of Prince of Wales' Road at Kentish Town, it encountered another stream of almost equal rapidity, the birthplace of which was in the Happy Valley at Hampstead. The united current then rolled on through Camden Town and St. Pancras towards Battle Bridge at King's Cross, from whence it flowed through Packington Street, under Rosebery Avenue, into Farringdon Street, creating steep banks on its flanks, which still remain the measure and evidence of its ancient energy; until, finally, it debouched into that tidal estuary from the Thames mediaevally known as the Fleet. Holborn Viaduct, at a much higher altitude, now spans the hollow where once stood Holeburn Bridge, at the wharves on either side of which "boats with corn, wine, firewood, and other necessaries" would unload. But in 1598 John Stow knew of this burn only as Turnmill Brook. Now it no longer exists; the damming of its waters for the erection of mills in the Middle Ages, and its more recent absorption by the water companies, have led to its complete disappearance.

The Manor of Holeburn, which was bounded on the east by the southern part of the Farringdon Street portion of this stream, included both sides of Shoe Lane; but how far west or north it originally extended is not known. In the year 1300, Saffron Hill, Fetter (or Faytour) Lane, and Fleet Street were all outside its bounds. Shoe Lane was known as Sho Lane, at one end of which was a well, called Show Well, from which the neighbourhood drew its water.[75]

It was here that the Dominicans, or Black Friars, made their first settlement in 1222;[76] their monastery was in Shoe Lane, and in 1286, when they moved to the eastern side of the Fleet, by Baynard's Castle, Henry de Lacy, Earl of Lincoln, who was lord of the manor and a justiciar, bought their old houses and established the first Lincoln's Inn.[77] Two other inns of that name, one next to Staple Inn and one in Chancery Lane, came into existence later, as we shall see presently. Here the earl died in 1311, and he was buried in St. Paul's Cathedral. By his will, proved in the Court of Hustings at the Guildhall, he directed that the houses which he had acquired from the monks should be sold;[78] but the inheritance of the manor of Holeburn descended to his son-in-law, Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, the King's cousin and Steward of the kingdom. Legal business was certainly transacted at his Inn. The yearly accounts of the Earldom of Lancaster for that period show that at his house in Shoe Lane, from Michaelmas, 1314, to Michaelmas, 1315, the amount of L314 7s. 41/2d. was spent for 1,714 lbs. of wax, with vermilion and turpentine to make red wax, and L4 8s. 31/4d. for one hundred and twenty-nine dozen of parchment, with ink.[79] He was beheaded in 1322, leaving no issue, and his widow, Alesia de Lacy, married secondly Ebulo Lestrange,[80] in whose family the manor remained until 1480, when it passed by marriage to the Stanleys, Earls of Derby.[81] In 1602 it was sold by the widow of Ferdinando, fifth earl, to Lord Buckhurst,[82] afterwards Earl of Dorset, under whose immediate successor it was broken up for building purposes.

The street of Holborn was at first simply the King's Street; afterwards it acquired the name of Holebourne-Bridge-strate. From Newgate to a little way west of St. Sepulchre's Church the high-road was known as "la Baillie"; from thence it bore the same name as the river, being carried over the bridge on to the ridge along which the Romans had built their military stone-way, known as Watling Street, out of which, in the year 1300, there turned two streets towards the south, namely, Scho Lane and Faitur Lane, and two towards the north, one called "le Vrunelane,"[83] afterwards Lyverounelane, then Lyver Lane, now Leather Lane, and the other called Portpool Lane, now Gray's Inn Road.

The justiciars, clerks in Chancery, and serjeants had frequent cause to protest against the manner in which the stream of Holeburn was being defiled. In the Parliament of Barons held in 1307, the Earl of Lincoln, whose Inn was in close proximity, complained that

"whereas formerly ten and twelve ships were wont to come to Flete Bridge and some of them to Holeburn Bridge, now, by the filth of the tanners and others, by the erection of wharfs, especially by them of the New Temple for their mills without Baynard's Castle, and by other impediments, the course was decayed so that ships could not enter as they were wont."[84]

Later on, in 1371, a writ was issued by Edward III. to the mayor and sheriffs to the effect that

"Upon the open information as well of our Justiciars and our Clerks in Chancery and our other Officers, as of other reputable men now living in Fletestrete, Holebourne and Smythfeld, we have heard that certain butchers of the said city, giving no heed to our Ordinance, have slain large beasts within the said city and have thrown the blood and entrails thereof in divers places near Holbournebrigge and elsewhere in the suburb aforesaid, from which abominations and stenches, and the air affected thereby, sicknesses and very many other maladies have befallen our Officers aforesaid and other persons there dwelling to the no small damage of the same our Officers and others," etc.[85]

Political exigencies had led these justiciars, clerks in Chancery, and "our other officers," to settle outside the city walls. London had been a free city in Saxon times, and William the Conqueror had allowed its privileges when, by issuing his famous charter, six inches by one of parchment, he granted its burghers to be all "law-worthy."[86] Successive monarchs had put their seal to further charters, renewing and enlarging previous concessions, so that none of the King's men, whether knight or clerk, might lodge within the city walls, nor might lodging be taken by force, and all pleas of the Crown were to be determined elsewhere. In 1191 the burghers obtained a "sworn Commune," after the pattern of that of Rouen, and it became a boast that "come what may, the Londoners shall have no King but their Mayor."[87]

Henry III., jealous of political control, constantly endeavoured, by irritating Ordinances, to cripple the powers previously conferred. On December 2nd, 1234, he issued a

"Mandate to the Mayor and Sheriffs of London that they cause proclamation to be made through the whole city firmly forbidding that any should set up schools in the said city for teaching the laws there for the time to come; and that if any shall there set up such schools they cause them to cease without delay."

Whatever the reason of this mandate may have been, the result was that the Inns of the apprentices-at-law became fixed in the suburb.

At that date, namely, 1234, the principal officer of the Crown was Ralph Nevill, Bishop of Chichester, the King's Chancellor, who held land on both sides of New Street, afterwards known as Chancery Lane, and who had succeeded to the power and influence previously enjoyed by the justiciar, Hubert de Burgh. This once powerful minister, who had been Regent during Henry's minority, had himself held land in New Street. But upon his disgrace and dismissal in 1232 he was deprived of it, and it was granted

"to the House which the King has founded in the street called Newstrate, between the Old Temple and the New Temple, for the support of the brethren converted, and to be converted, from Judaism to the Catholic faith, saving the garden which the King has already granted to Ralph, Bishop of Chichester, his Chancellor."[88]

This house became the Rolls Office, and in after times, when the Master of the Rolls became head of the Chancery clerks, the street became known as Chancery Lane.

The Old Temple was in Holborn, and the property extended from the north-eastern corner of Chancery Lane to Staple Inn, and possibly further. The Knights Templars sold it about the year 1160 to the Bishopric of Lincoln. Their round chapel, of which the round of the present Temple Church is a replica, still retained its chaplain in 1222, and its ruins were still existing in Queen Elizabeth's reign, quite close to Staple Inn. In 1547 the bishopric had to resign the property to John Dudley, Earl of Warwick, Great Chamberlain of England, afterwards Earl of Northumberland,[89] who conveyed it in 1549 to the Chancellor, Thomas Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton. The eastern part of the property was built upon in 1580 by William Roper, of Lincoln's Inn; and in 1638 the then Earl received licence to demolish his house to make way for eighty smaller houses and one tavern. The rotunda of the Birkbeck Bank occupies the site of what was once Northumberland Court, and Southampton Buildings now cover the grounds of Southampton House.

On the west side of Chancery Lane, or New Street, Ralph Nevill, the Bishop of Chichester, possessed a house which became part of the third and present Lincoln's Inn; but his garden was on the east side of Chancery Lane, and was bounded on the north by a ditch, known in 1262 as Chanceleresdich. This ditch separated his garden from certain property, occupied one hundred years later by serjeants and apprentices of the law, which may be conveniently designated the second Lincoln's Inn. It was situated to the east of Staple Inn, where now is Furnival Street.

Dugdale describes Henry de Lacy, Earl of Lincoln, as a person well affected to the study of the laws, who had gathered around him numbers of students. This statement is probably correct, for in 1292, only six years after the earl had bought the houses of the Black Friars, Edward I. urges the same course upon his Chief Justice of Common Pleas. He enjoins John Metyngham and his fellows, et sociis suis, to provide a certain number of every county of the better and more legally and liberally learned for the purpose of being trained to practise in the Courts.[90] If the Earl of Lincoln had already brought students to London, we may be fairly certain that many of them would have come from his lands in Lincolnshire and North Wales. The second Lincoln's Inn appears to have been much connected with the one, and Davy's Inn with the other.

In the year 1252, Adam de Basing, then Mayor of London, held a block of land, about 100 yards wide by 220 yards long, on the east side of Staple Inn, part of which was leased to Roger the Smith, and part to Geoffrey the Wheelwright. In 1269, Simon Faber, son and heir of Roger, granted a portion of it, lying next to Staple Inn, to Simon the Marshall, "being in breadth at the King's street on the north 12 ells of the iron ell of King Henry," and 48 ells long, "for the yearly rent, to Thomas, son of Adam de Basing, and his heirs, of 10s. sterling, and to Simon Faber and his heirs one rose at the feast of the nativity of St. John Baptist."[91] But Simon the Marshall accepted this grant only to make a feoffment of the property at once to Gilbert de Lincoln, known also as Gilbert de Haliwell and as Gilbert Proudphoet, a dealer in parchment, parmentarius, who held it for thirty-three years; his wife, after his death, holding it for another five. In 1307, William le Brewere and William atte Gate, executors of Gilbert de Lincoln, sold the property, with the buildings thereon, to John de Dodyngton, variously described as parmentarius and skinner, pelliparius, for the sum of one hundred shillings.[92] Within five years, in 1312, John de Dodyngton transferred it to Robert le Hende de Worcester, also parmentarius and pelliparius, who held it for twenty years; from whom it descended in the female line to James Gylot, who in 1369 enfeoffed of it Roger de Podyngton, and Joan his wife, "to hold to Roger and Joan, and the heirs and assigns of Roger, of the chief lords of that fee by the accustomed services for ever."[93] In the same year Roger and Joan "gave" it to Walter de Barton, citizen and cordwainer of London, to hold under the same conditions, in whose possession it remained for seventeen years, when he granted a feoffment of it to Robert de Cherlton, Chief Justice of Common Pleas, Richard the Mauncyple, John Sutton, John Aldurley, and John Parkere,[94] who in the same year transferred it to the Abbot of Malmesbury. By an Inquisition, ad quod damnum, held in May of that year, for the purpose of determining whether the gift might be legally made, it was stated that the property was held in burgage—i.e., town tenure—of the King, and there are no means between the King and the said Robert, etc.[95] The abbot allowed Walter de Barton and his successors to remain in occupation, the monastery receiving the rents.

Though for thirty-three years it had been held by Gilbert de Lincoln, this property did not form a part of what was called Lyncolnesynne. It was partly a brewery and partly a hostel, and remained such until the reign of Henry VIII.

The property east and south of this was, in the year 1262, held by Geoffrey the Wheelwright. That part of it lying east had been leased direct from Adam Basing; it extended from the King's Street to the "land of the Conversi," and was 12 ells in width at the north, 10 ells in width at the south, and 220 yards long. That part lying south had been granted to Geoffrey by Simon Faber; it contained

"in length from the ditch called Chaunceleresdich towards the Church of the Conversi on the south as far as Simon's own curtilage on the north 31 perches of the perch of Henry III., whereof each perch contains 161/2 feet,"

and in width 11 ells of the said King;

"to hold to Geoffrey, his heirs and assigns, of Adam Basing, for 2s. 8d. rent paid in the name of Simon, his heirs and assigns, and one rose at the nativity of S. John Baptist to Simon and his heirs."[96]

Adam de Basing gave this property to his daughter, Avice, wife of William de Hadestok, Alderman of Tower Ward.[97] They had a daughter, Joan, who married Adam Bidic, the King's tailor and custodian of the assize of cloth,[98] who in 1291 granted it to William le Brewere and Alice his wife.[99] It was described as stretching from the King's Street on the north to the tenement of the Bishop of Chichester on the south;

"to hold to William and Alice, their heirs and assigns, for the yearly rent of two marks and for suits of court and all other services wont to be done by Geoffrey, le Whelwriste, in the time of Adam Basing, formerly citizen of London."

The widow of William le Brewere, in 1315, granted the property to Robert le Hende de Worcester, who already held the brewery on the west.[100] In 1334 the executors of Robert sold the property (exclusive of the brewery) to Thomas de Lincoln of the Common Bench, the King's serjeant, who is described as son of Thomas de Lincoln.[101] Three years before, in 1331, Thomas de Lincoln had acquired from John de Totel de Lincoln other property to the east of this, and in 1332 a garden also, to the south-east, from Andrew Courtays, the Coupere. These three combined properties formed the inn which came to be known as "Lyncolnesynne." On the 11th January, 1348, Thomas Bedic, grandson of Adam de Bedic, granted all his rights of lordship in this property to Thomas de Lincoln, who thus became entire owner of it.

After holding it for thirty-two years, Thomas de Lincoln, on Sunday, 1st December, 1364, granted it to John Claymond, Justice for County Lincoln, Peter Turke, and Robert de Ditton, "to hold to them, their heirs and assigns, of the chief lords of that fee by the accustomed services."[102] These feoffees, two years afterwards, granted it to William de Worston, Justice of County Wilts., Thomas Coubrigge, William Camme, Vicar of Westport, Malmesbury, and Robert de Cherlton, Chief Justice of Common Pleas; and they, two years later still, in 1369, received letters patent of Edward III, granting them licence to assign it to the Abbot and Convent of Malmesbury,

"to hold to the Abbot and Convent and their successors of the King, the chief lord of that fee, by the services belonging to those houses for ever."[103]

To the east of this property of Lincoln's Inn there was, in 1295, "a tenement with buildings thereon, and a curtilage adjacent," belonging to the Knights Templars, which was then held by Simon le Webbe de Purtepol, Bailiff of the Commonalty of the Guild of Weavers. Upon his death it came into the possession of John Wymondeswolde, chaplain and pelliparius, who in 1328 granted it to Robert the Marshall, citizen and goldsmith of London

"to hold to Robert, his heirs and assigns, of the chief lords of that fee, namely, the Prior of the Hospital of S. John of Jerusalem in England and the Brethren of the Hospital, by reason of the annulling of the Order of the Knights of the Temple, by the service of ten shillings yearly."[104]