CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME 
 OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT 
 FUND GIVEN IN 189I BY 
 
 HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE 
 
CornelT university LiDrary 
 DA 680.S83 1905 
 
 Shakespeare's London, 
 
 3 1924 020 331 017 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924020331017 
 
SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
pq JD 
 
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 2 
 O 
 
Shakespeare' s 
 London 
 
 By 
 Henry Thew Stephenson 
 
 Assistant Professor of English 
 Indiana University 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
 1905 
 
COPYBIGHT, 1905, 
 BY 
 
 Henry Holt and Company 
 
 Published in April, 1905 
 
To 
 
 TUnilUam B. ff)roctec 
 
 THIS Book is 
 
 Affectionately 
 
 Dedicated 
 
PREFACE 
 
 So much time and study have been given of late 
 to the surroundings of Shakespeare and his fellow- 
 dramatists, that everything in connection with 
 EHzabethan times is of considerable interest to a 
 large class of people. Though it is true that 
 many, if not most, of the following facts are to be 
 found in modern works or reprints, it is also true 
 that they are so scattered as to be available only 
 after the most prolonged search, and so inaccessible 
 as to be out of reach of one who has not access to 
 a large Hbrary. 
 
 Furthermore, no work of the present kind has 
 yet appeared, if we except the contemporary 
 Survey of London by John Stow. Some recent 
 attempts to accompany prints of old London with 
 letter-press have resulted in inaccuracies that render 
 the works wholly useless to the person who wishes 
 to be well informed. The present writer has 
 attempted with great care to verify his facts and 
 to draw as largely as possible upon contemporary 
 sources. 
 
 While the book is primarily a topographical 
 
PREFACE 
 
 description of the city as it was seen by Shake- 
 speare, the task could not be performed satisfac- 
 torily without frequent references to the manners 
 and customs of the people. The introductory 
 chapter, however, and the description of a theatri- 
 cal performance do not, it is hoped, encroach 
 materially upon the field of a companion volume 
 with which it is expected to follow this one, a 
 volume devoted whoUy to manners and customs. 
 
 In addition to the printed sources mentioned in 
 the text, the writer wishes to acknowledge his 
 indebtedness to the libraries of the British Museum 
 and of the London Guildhall, where every possible 
 courtesy and consideration is extended to the 
 foreign student. 
 
 H. T. S. 
 
 Indiana UNivERsirr, 
 February 14, 1905. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGB 
 
 I. The Elizabethans 1" 
 
 II. The Early Growth of the Citt 40 
 
 III. A General View of London 59 
 
 IV. Old St. Paul's 81 
 
 V. The Water Front 107 
 
 VI. The Tower of London 134 
 
 VII. The Main Highway ISO 
 
 VIII. The Main Highway (Continued) 173 
 
 IX. North of Cheapside 191 
 
 X. Military Companies 209 
 
 XI. HOLBORN AND SmITHFIELD 218 
 
 -)xn. The Strand 235 
 
 XIII. SOCTHWARK 260 
 
 XIV. The Theatres 286 ■ 
 
 XV. The Taverns and Tavern Life 331 t 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 London Bridge ... Frontispiece 
 
 Domestic Architecture — Winchester Street ... 12 
 DoiiESTic Architecture — Part of Duke Street, West 
 
 Smithfield 16 
 
 Domestic Architecture — Old Houses at Chancery 
 
 Lane and Fleet Street 26 
 
 London 60 
 
 London Bridge 62 
 
 London Wall — A Portion in CHtmcHTARD of St. 
 
 Giles's, Cripplegate 66 
 
 Norden's Map of London in 1593 68 
 
 Bird's-eye View of Old St. Paul's 81 
 
 St. Paul's 82 
 
 Paul's Cross 84 
 
 St. Faith's 87 
 
 Choir of St. Paul's 88 
 
 St. Paul's Nave 104 
 
 Cold Harbour as it appeared in 1650 127 
 
 Billingsgate 128 
 
 Custom House 130 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Tower op London in the Time op Elizabeth ... 134 
 
 Part of Tower of London 136 
 
 Gateway of Bloody Tower 138 
 
 Interior of Beauchamp Tower 142 
 
 Tower of London 146 
 
 Newgate ISO 
 
 Cheapside 154 
 
 The Royal Exchange 170 
 
 BisHOPSGATE Street 202 
 
 The Strand 241 
 
 Somerset House 244 
 
 River Gate of York House 250 
 
 Charing Cross 252 
 
 Westminster 256 
 
 Greenwich Palace 268 
 
 Saint Mary Overie 278 
 
 Bankside in the Time of Elizabeth 297 
 
 The Bear Garden 300 
 
 The Rose Theatre 302 
 
 The Globe Theatre 304 
 
 The Fortune Theatre 308 
 
 The Swan Theatre 310 
 
 The Swan Theatre — Interior View 312 
 
 The Falcon Tavern 333 
 
 Interior of an Elizabethan Tavxrn 344 
 
SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE ELIZABETHANS 
 
 SHAKESPEARE'S record is essentially a. 
 record of Elizabethan life and times. His 
 plays teem with local colour. Not the history 
 plays alone refer to London. It appears else- 
 where, often disguised by a different name, but 
 evident to the familiar eye. One may be sure 
 that the London 'prentice of the time recognised 
 his brother 'prentices, armed with good English 
 oak, rallying to the well-known cry of " Clubs, 
 Clubs ! " notwithstanding the fact that the title 
 above the stage reads in plain letters, "Verona — 
 A public Place." 
 
 One can best understand the temper of the 
 Elizabethans by drawing an analogy between the 
 defeat of Spain, in 1588, and our own brief war 
 with that venerable nation. If, a few years ago, 
 we had found ourselves at war with all of Europe ; 
 if, in addition, we had been on the eve of civil 
 strife at home; if thirty miles of water instead of 
 three thousand had separated us from our enemy, 
 we should then have been in much the same condi- 
 
2 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 tion as England at the sailing of the Armada. 
 Imagine all the odds against us, imagine the coun- 
 try rising like one man in brotherhood, stilling 
 a deep-rooted civil conflict in order to repel the 
 foe ; imagine a victory, overwhelming and com- 
 plete, at a time when victory was faithfully believed 
 to be the direct judgment of God upon the 
 favoured nation — imagine all this, and it is more 
 possible to come near the exuberant spirit that 
 characterised the Elizabethans at the close of 
 1588. 
 
 Is it any wonder that the whole nation burst 
 forth in one peal of joyous song and action! It 
 found vent in many ways. Some travelled for 
 profit, others for culture ; some set out to colonise 
 the forbidden territories, others remained to reap 
 at home ; one and all, high and low, realised that 
 the danger was over, that England in one bound 
 had sprung into the forefront of civilisation and 
 power. 
 
 By the defeat of Spain travel upon the conti- 
 nent became not only possible and safe, but the fad. 
 Every youth must make the grand tour, and in 
 the course of such travels were gathered and 
 brought home the manuscripts and texts that, upon 
 translation, blossomed into the Elizabethan drama. 
 
 This people, in a sense, was an ignorant people. 
 Those of the highest rank were well and labori- 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 3 
 
 ously educated according to the contemporary 
 standard; but the rank and file paid no attention 
 to learning. They neither read, wrote, nor 
 thought. One to-day is astonished at the ignor- 
 ance of the then common people concerning public 
 affairs. Compare a history like Holinshed's with 
 a history like Froude's or Gardiner's. You find 
 In the former no exposition of principles, no at- 
 tempt to sift tradition from fact, no sense what- 
 ever of the dignity of a thousand page folio in 
 black letter. On the other hand, we read in 
 Holinshed of a terrible storm that killed a dog in 
 Essex, or of a cow that gave birth to a five-legged 
 calf in Kent. Street parades, tiltings, trivial and 
 momentous events alternately, mere gossip, above 
 all, inspired utterances in the form of public 
 proclamations from the crown — this is the sum and 
 substance of Holinshed and Stow — and the people 
 were well satisfied. 
 
 The matter-of-fact critic of to-day is too apt 
 to condemn the Elizabethan dramatists for the 
 credulity evinced by their characters. But such 
 criticism is often misplaced. The Elizabethans 
 were credulous people. The opening chapter of 
 Kingsley's Westward Ho! relates a number of 
 foolish inducements held out by Salvation Yeo 
 and John Oxenham, two prospective sailors of the 
 South Seas. But the inducements were not con- 
 
4 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 sidered foolish then. Kingsley, in his charming 
 way, points a little pleasantly at the inconsistency 
 of English inscriptions upon the wondrous horn 
 of ivory that had been picked up in the land of 
 the Incas. Even here, the amusing sarcasm is 
 slightly misplaced. The Elizabethans would not 
 allow themselves to be troubled by such trifles. 
 The golden city of Monoa was as real to them 
 as Paradise or Hell. The chapter, in fact, is 
 almost a literal transcript of a contemporary 
 pamphlet, doubtless produced in perfect faith. 
 Even Shakespeare, judged by our modern stand- 
 ards, may not have been a really sophisticated man ; 
 the ring of truth in Othello's taks to Desdemona 
 may be due to a believing heart. 
 
 There was going on all the time a rapid change 
 in the social scale. The middle class was rising 
 into prominence. It was no longer necessary to be 
 bom a peer in order to become a man of wealth 
 and position. The story of Whittington was 
 repeating itself every day ; and, what is more to 
 the point, the people were daily growing more and 
 more proud of the fact. 
 
 As the age of Elizabeth was the golden time of 
 literature, so it was the golden time of supersti- 
 tion. There was one Banks, a hanger-on of the 
 Earl of Essex, who lived in the Old Bailey and 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 5 
 
 who possessed a wonderful horse named Morocco, 
 shod with shoes of silver. This horse could dance 
 to music, count, make answer to questions; do a 
 thousand and one other tricks, among which 
 was his reputed ascent of St. Paul's steeple. Lon- 
 don looked upon Banks and his horse as little short 
 of the supernatural; and in later years all street- 
 London wept at the news from Italy, where both 
 master and horse were burned to death on the charge 
 of sorcery. 
 
 With this execution the Londoners could heartily 
 sympathise, for they were superstitious to a degree 
 incomprehensible at the present day. None was so 
 ready as Sir Walter Scott himself to acknowledge 
 that the fatal flaw in The Monastery was the 
 demand put upon the creduHty of an incredulous 
 people by the introduction of the WTiite Lady of 
 Avenal. Nothing so well illustrates this difference 
 between the time of Shakespeare and our own as 
 a comparison of the failure of The Monastery 
 and of the success of Hamlet. A serious trag- 
 edy based upon a trivial motive is likely to degen- 
 erate into out and out farce. Had the audience of 
 Shakespeare beheved as we do in regard to super- 
 stition, both Hamlet and Macbeth would have 
 probably missed the public approbation. We 
 should certainly think a logic-loving philosopher 
 
6 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 or an iron-nerved general tainted in his wits, if he 
 allowed his reason to be swayed by a shadowy ap- 
 parition, or his intrigues to be governed by a trio 
 of vanishing witches ; yet Shakespeare was making 
 use of the most powerful motive at his command. 
 Doubtless every person in The Globe play-house 
 shuddered at the appearance of Hamlet's ghost, for 
 it was true, actually true to them, that this might 
 be either Denmark's spirit or the very devil in a 
 pleasing shape. 
 
 John Stow, the annalist of England and author 
 of the Survey of London, was, next to Camden, 
 the most famous antiquarian student of the age ; 
 yet this man, whose Survey is the great store- 
 house of knowledge about Elizabethan London — 
 learned, careful, and methodical — thus interprets 
 the effect of a church struck by lightning: 
 
 "And here a note of this steeple: as I have oft 
 heard my father report, upon St. James's night, 
 certain men in the loft next under the bells, ringing 
 of a peel, a tempest of lightning and thunder did 
 arise, an ugly shapen sight appeared to them, com- 
 ing in at the south window, and lighted on the 
 north, for fear whereof they all fell down, and lay 
 as dead for the time, letting the bells ring and cease 
 of their own accord ; when the ringers came to them- 
 selves, they found certain stones of the north win- 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 7 
 
 dow to be razed and scratched, as if they had been 
 so much butter, printed with a Hon's claw ; the same 
 stones were fastened there again and so remain 
 until this day. I have seen them oft, and have put 
 a feather or small stick into the holes where the 
 claws had entered three or four inches deep. At 
 the same time certain main timber posts at Queen- 
 hithe were scratched and cleft from the top to the 
 bottom; and the pulpit cross in Paul's churchyard 
 was likewise scratched, cleft, and overturned. One 
 of the ringers lived in my youth, whom I have often 
 heard to verify the same to be true." 
 
 The people not only believed in ghosts and 
 witches, but in magic of every sort. Alchemy was 
 a common hobby, and many a man of brain wasted 
 his time and ruined his fortune in the vain search 
 for the philosopher's stone long after the practice 
 had been held up to ridicule upon the stage by Ben 
 Jonson. 
 
 Astrology, or astronomical fortune-telling, was 
 so thoroughly a factor of the age that every one 
 desired the casting of his horoscope. Leicester 
 consulted Doctor Dee, the astrologer, to discover a 
 propitious date for the Queen's coronation. The 
 great Queen herself consulted him upon an occa- 
 sion, instead of her family physician, in order to 
 charm away the tooth-ache. Again, a waxen image 
 
8 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 of Elizabeth was picked up in one of the fields near 
 London. Doctor Dee was immediately sent for to 
 counteract by his charms the evil effect of this 
 f amihar kind of sorcery. 
 
 People, one and all, believed in fairies. The 
 usual critical opinion, that the opening scenes of 
 A Midsummer Night's Dream owe their arrange- 
 ment to a desire to lead gradually from the real 
 to the unreal, would have caused an Elizabethan 
 to laugh, if not outwardly, in his sleeve. There is 
 nothing unreal about the fairies of that delightful 
 comedy except their size. Any one might not only 
 have seen the pleasant fairies, but also the wicked, 
 and might have become blind by the sight, if he did 
 not take care to protect himself by charms. A 
 grown man did not feel foolish in those days if 
 when in the neighbourhood of a lonely and ghost- 
 haunted wood at night he wore his coat inside out. 
 There were innumerable superstitious rites per- 
 formed at births, christenings, weddings, on certain 
 days of the year, and in certain places; as, the 
 churchyard, the cross-roads, etc. Every hour in 
 the day, every article in the world — stone, plant, or 
 animal — had its cluster of superstitions. 
 
 The time was further characterised by a general 
 freedom of manners. We often find personal ridi- 
 cule and abuse, as well as praise, levelled at individ- 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 9 
 
 uals from the stage. Different companies and 
 rival play-wrights fought out their private battles 
 on the public boards. A play of ancient setting, 
 such as Hamlet, does not scruple to allude to 
 current events of interest to Londoners. The mob 
 in Romeo and Juliet rallies to the cry of the 
 London 'prentice lads. The actors talked to people 
 in the pit, who in turn pelted an unpopular player 
 from the stage. There existed, likewise, a coarse- 
 ness of speech in every-day talk that would be quite 
 intolerable to-day. Queen Elizabeth swore likV a 
 trooper, spat at her favourites, or threw her slipper 
 at the head of an obdurate councillor. The arti- 
 ficial refinement of our age requires the lines of 
 many of Shakespeare's heroines to be curtailed ; yet 
 Beatrice and the like talk no more broadly than did 
 that paragon of female excellence, " Sidney's sister, 
 Pembroke's mother." 
 
 The great popularity of the stage at once sug- 
 gests the chief characteristic of the age: artifi- 
 ciality. About the middle of the century appeared 
 Lyly's Euphues. This book, a kind of tale, owed 
 its great vogue to its quaintness of phrase, its 
 antitheses, and its elaborate conceits. The book 
 sold by wholesale. No one was considered fit to 
 appear in public unless he could talk the fustian 
 fashion of the Euphues. The book is intolerably 
 
10 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 dull to most of us, but the perusal of a few pages 
 will repay the curious, as an object-lesson in the 
 rubbish spoken by the cultivated Elizabethan 
 courtier. 
 
 Part of the Euphuistic training was the art of 
 compliment. This habit was fostered by the vanity 
 of the Queen. Elizabeth, so some of the foreign- 
 ers who saw her tell us, possessed several undesirable 
 characteristics, among others a hooked nose and 
 black teeth, and there is no doubt that her skin 
 wrinkled as she grew near seventy. Yet, to the 
 very end of the great Queen's life, the obsequious 
 courtier was welcome who would assure her that he 
 is like to die if he is debarred the sight of that ala- 
 baster brow, of those cheeks of rose covered with 
 the bloom of peaches, of those teeth of pearl. Be- 
 sides the elaborate compliments to the Queen that 
 were frequently introduced into plays and masques, 
 a common custom was to set up a tablet to her hon- 
 our in the parish church. Here is an example of 
 their inscriptions : 
 
 " Spain's rod, Rome's ruin, Netherland's relief. 
 Heaven's gem, Earth's joy, World's wonder. Nature's chief. 
 Britain's blessing, England's splendour. 
 Religion's nurse and Faith's Defender." 
 
 Gossipping was one of the favourite pastimes of 
 the Elizabethans, and London was not yet too large 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 11 
 
 for the practice to be thoroughly effective. Gossip 
 started from the barber-shop and the tavern-table — 
 the EHzabethan equivalent of the afternoon tea — 
 and spread thence in every direction. Space pre- 
 vents the enumeration of many of the indications 
 of freedom of manner that are to be discovered in 
 every direction. Gossip led to frequent quarrels, 
 that were more hot and bitter because side arms 
 were worn upon all occasions. The fine woman of 
 the time would jostle with the rudest peasants in 
 the pit of the bull-ring and the theatre. Wakes 
 and fairs were of daily occurrence, in which every 
 one joined, irrespective of previous acquaintance. 
 During the yule-tide festivities all distinctions of 
 class were considered as temporarily non-existent. 
 Elizabeth showed herself so often and so intimately 
 to the common people that they considered the 
 acquaintance almost personal. So much for the 
 happy-go-lucky spirit that characterised the 
 time. 
 
 The extent of gaming is lamented by all the 
 contemporary writers who have a leaning towards 
 reform. Dicing, card playing, and racing, though 
 to a less extent than the others, were practised 
 upon every hand ; while cheating was but too com- 
 mon. In former times it was considered almost a 
 crime to take interest for money loaned, but by 
 
12 SHAKESPEARE'S»LONDON 
 
 the reign of Elizabeth this prejudice was so com- 
 pletely overborne that usury was practised by all 
 the money lenders, who did not scruple to turn the 
 screws upon the least occasion. 
 
 The people were greatly addicted to showy dress, 
 but show in dress was a mere bagatelle. Pageants 
 of all sorts were planned upon the least occasion. 
 Coronations, funerals, and progresses were always 
 got up upon the most spectacular basis.' The rid- 
 ing watches, the parades of civic officials in their 
 gaudy robes of state, the Livery Companies upon 
 the river in their brilliant barges, manned by oars- 
 men in full livery, the Queen coming to St. Paul's 
 in 1588, to .render thanks for the victory over Spain 
 — all such spectacles were provided with gorgeous 
 pageants, triumphal arches, side-shows, and so 
 forth, that would be weeks preparing. 
 
 Though the plays of Shakespeare were produced 
 upon a stage practically devoid of scenery, and 
 wholly without costume as we understand the word, 
 the private masques at court were accompanied by 
 elaborate stage machinery and gorgeous dresses 
 that quite overshadowed the lines of the poet, and 
 that often cost a fortune for a single presentation. 
 Heraldry, likewise, received due attention; private 
 households swarmed with servants ; Gervase Mark- 
 ham, a contemporary cook-book writer, suggests 
 
Domestic Architecture 
 (Winchester Street. From an etching by J. T. Smith, drawn 1804) 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 13 
 
 sixteen dishes of meat and sixteen other dishes for 
 an ordinary family dinner. To be sure, the splen- 
 did monasteries had been shorn of their magnifi- 
 cence, but the Papal plate went to enrich still fur- 
 ther the decoration of the tables belonging to the 
 Tudor sovereigns and their favourites. So much 
 for the general spirit of excess that pervaded 
 English life three hundred years ago. 
 
 The people were extremely fond of out of door 
 life. Of a summer evening they would set the 
 tables by the sidewalks, or by the door in unim- 
 proved streets, for supper. Whenever possible, the 
 last course of dinner, called the banquet, was served 
 in the garden. Open air sermons were thoroughly 
 popular. The theatres were open to the sky. 
 Hawking, hunting, and field sports were the favour- 
 ite amusements. 
 
 When one attempts to describe the architecture 
 of any age he usually selects that which in later 
 time is known to have then originated, but which 
 was at the time itself so new as to appear novel 
 rather than characteristic. Though there is a 
 style of building that we associate with Elizabethan 
 times, the people for the most part lived in houses 
 that had long been built, and were usually of the 
 hollow-square pattern. The fact that capability of 
 defence was no longer an important consideration 
 
14 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 had caused the moat and wall gradually to disap- 
 pear, and the isolation of the lodge or gate-house 
 into a separate structure. In the later part of the 
 Elizabethan era grekt changes were introduced in 
 the ground plan and the fa9ade; but once within, 
 whether the house were old or new, a fairly uniform 
 set of conditions confronted the observer. 
 
 In the domestic architecture of the time there 
 was a great deal of elaborate ornamentation, such 
 as delicately carved wood-work, plaster, moulding, 
 wrought fire-places, etc. A great deal of colour 
 was used throughout the house, both in the way of 
 pictures and heraldic designs, and in the tapestry. 
 There was much regularity about all the orna- 
 mental patterns, and many straight lines, as in the 
 panelling. Brackets, hinges, knockers, etc., were 
 usually of the most elaborate wrought iron or brass. 
 
 The plan familiar to us, from Bacon's essay Of 
 Building, was followed by many of the Elizabethan 
 builders, though lack of means to build, and room 
 for the double court, in the London houses, often 
 led to a considerable alteration. One need but 
 walk along Holborn to-day and glance at the Staple 
 Inn, that still serves its purpose as well as it did 
 three centuries ago, to realise how substantially 
 they were wont to build in those days. Oak and 
 chestnut entered largely into the construction, and 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 15 
 
 the ceilings were omitted in the great halls in order 
 to show the timber framework of the roof, which 
 was often beautifully and elaborately carved. This 
 framework was sometimes painted and gilded, but 
 more frequently depended for its ornament upon 
 the deep, grotesque carvings or decorated heraldic 
 designs. Crosby Hall, however, is an exception to 
 this rule ; for the hall is provided with an arched 
 ceiling divided into panels. In any case, the hall 
 was usually the only room left unceiled. These 
 ceilings were often of the finest execution. The 
 walls were variously adorned. Sometimes they were 
 gilded. The use of pictures came into vogue largely 
 during the reign of Elizabeth. At first they were 
 let into the walls or painted upon wooden panels 
 over the fire-place, the rest of the room being pan- 
 elled. It was a common custom to keep pictures 
 covered with a cloth. Oftentimes the walls of a 
 room were covered with arras or tapestry, which, 
 because of the damp climate, was not attached 
 directly to the wall, but stretched upon light wooden 
 frames distant a foot from it ; hence, " behind the 
 arras " was a convenient place of hiding. In 
 meaner houses the place of tapestry was taken by 
 painted cloths, which served the same purpose of 
 decoration, and had the double advantage of being 
 inexpensive and a fair imitation of the more desir- 
 
16 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 able display of wealth. The tapestry was fre- 
 quently adorned with mottoes, and mottoes were 
 often hung up alone, especially in the sleeping 
 rooms of the domestics, to remind them of their 
 duty. 
 
 It was the common custom to cover the floors of 
 rooms with a layer of rushes — a great source of 
 uncleanliness. Often new rushes were placed over 
 the old, and the whole mass removed as seldom as 
 twice a year. This habit husbanded all sorts of 
 filth, and vermin was a common ailment of the home 
 apartments ; bad odours rising therefrom gave rise 
 to a whole profession, that of perfumer. It was a 
 perfumer's business to sweeten the atmosphere of a i 
 room without removing the cause of the stench.' 
 The timber of the house front was also often elabo- 
 rately carved, and sometimes painted in bright col- 
 ours. In some of the old houses, beneath the sec- 
 ond story on the outside, were rows of iron hooks. 
 These were used to hold up the hangings that were 
 put out as street decorations in time of public fes- 
 tivity. 
 
 The main room in a mansion that was built in the 
 form of a square was the hall. It served often as 
 dining-room, drawing-room, and place of festivi- 
 ties. About the walls were hung all sorts of weap- 
 ons, relics of the chase, etc. Even in London 
 
Domestic Architecture 
 
 (Part of Duke Street, West Smithfield. From an etching by J. T 
 
 Smith, drawn 1807) 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 17 
 
 houses this was the custom; for it must be remem- 
 bered that hunting and hawking were carried on 
 where is now the centre of the city, and that Crosby 
 Hall, in the days of Elizabeth, was not ten minutes' 
 walk from the open country. There were chairs 
 and stools in the hall, and chests, handsomely 
 carved or deUcately inlaid with ivory and pearl. 
 When meals were served tables were brought in or 
 taken down from their place against the walls. 
 These tables consisted of leaves hinged together and 
 laid temporarily on trestles. In Romeo and Juliet 
 Capulet refers to such tables being removed pre- 
 paratory to clearing the hall for a dance, when 
 he cries : 
 
 " A hall, a haU ! give room ! and foot it, girls. 
 More light, you knaves ; and turn the tables up." 
 
 In the bedroom were usually two beds: one a 
 standing bed in which slept the occupant of the 
 room; the other, a truckle bed, on which slept the 
 attending page or lady's maid. The truckle bed 
 was pushed under the standing bed during the day- 
 time. The bed was frequently covered with a 
 costly counterpane, highly wrought and brilliantly 
 coloured. Ivory coffers and cypress chests ele- 
 vated upon carved legs were highly esteemed as bed- 
 room furniture, and were often of extreme value 
 
18 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 and fine workmanship, which consisted of orna- 
 mental scrolls and inlaid heraldic devices. Here, 
 as elsewhere, the floor was covered with rushes, and 
 the best mansions could boast nothing better. 
 " Rushes that grow upon dry ground," observes 
 Dr. Bulleyne, " be good to strew in halls, chambers, 
 and galleries, to walk upon, defending apparal, as 
 trains of goM'ns and kirtles from dust." 
 
 A necessary adjunct to the bedroom was the 
 wardrobe for keeping clothes. Drawers were not 
 then in use, chests taking their place ; most of the 
 garments, however, were hung upon pegs about the 
 room, and in great houses a special apartment, 
 called the wardrobe, was reserved for this purpose. 
 Rooms were lighted by candles or torches thrust 
 into sconces. A favourite form of candlestick was 
 an image with the hands clasping the candle-socket. 
 On state occasions the candles were held in sockets 
 carried by human beings. The office of candle- 
 bearer at court was a desirable one and always 
 performed by the members of the Gentlemen Pen- 
 sioners. Watch lights, as they were called, were 
 candles so divided by rings as to indicate how long 
 they had been burning. They were common only 
 in the houses of the wealthy. 
 
 Every house of any pretension possessed a 
 library, though reading was not a common habit 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 19 
 
 among the lower classes. " Trulie," says Harri- 
 son, " it is a rare thing with us now, to heare of a 
 courtier which hath but his owne language. And 
 to saie how manie gentlewomen and ladies there 
 are, that beside the sound knowledge of the Greek 
 and Latine toongs, are thereto no lesse skillful in 
 the Spanish, Itahan, and French, or in some of 
 them, it resteth not in me : sith I am persuaded, that 
 as the noblemen and gentlemen do surmount in this 
 behalf, so these come verie little or nothing at all 
 behind them for their parts, which Industrie God 
 continue, and accomplish that which otherwise is 
 wanting ! " It would be impossible to say what 
 books these libraries contained, for the simple rea- 
 son that at a time when books were so scarce, one 
 picked up whatever he could find. The Chronicles, 
 of course, were in everybody's library. As for the 
 rest, a large proportion was in the form of unique 
 manuscripts, many of which had been brought home 
 for translation, soon to become easily accessible in 
 English. The famous astrologer, Dr. Dee, at his 
 death left a library of four thousand volumes, 
 which was considered large. Much attention was 
 paid to binding. The covers were often held shut 
 with clasps of gold heavily studded with jewels. 
 Such books were placed on the shelves with the 
 edges of the leaves facing out for the purpose of 
 
20 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 exhibiting the clasps. Brief manuscripts and doc- 
 uments were rolled and laid upon the shelf. They 
 were furnished with a label attached to a string 
 that hung out of the end, thus enabling one to 
 search for what he wanted when the rolls were piled 
 one upon another. 
 
 As has been said, dinner and supper were usually 
 served upon movable tables, which were covered 
 with tablecloths of linen, often called carpets. The 
 hour for dinner was twelve o'clock; supper was 
 served at six. Wooden trenchers were still seen 
 upon the tables of the rich. Pewter in its best form 
 was a costly material, and wealthy persons often 
 rented their stock of pewter by the year. It was, 
 however, in plainer forms, slowly working its way 
 into the houses of the common people, hardly any 
 of whom did not boast, at least, a few pewter dishes. 
 Silver, gilt plate, cut glass, and china, the latter 
 sparingly, were in use. Before 1563 people ate 
 with their fingers ; hence the frequent circulation at 
 table of a bowl of water and a towel. Knives were 
 introduced in 1563, but forks came some time later. 
 
 Dinner was usually served in three courses: the 
 first, meat ; the second, game ; and the third, sweets. 
 The last, called the banquet, was, when possible, 
 served in the summer-house in the garden, from 
 which, after sufficient time spent in conversation. 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 21 
 
 the family adjourned to evening prayer and then 
 prepared for supper. The people were extremely 
 lavish in the matter of provision, and extravagant 
 in their tastes. The consumption of wine was then 
 far greater than now. Harrison mentions fifty-six 
 French wines, thirty-six Spanish, and several made 
 at home. Englishmen were very fond of sugar, 
 which it was customary to mix with every kind of 
 wine. 
 
 Servants were then far more numerous than now, 
 and a more essential mark of gentility than at any 
 other age. They wore their master's arms upon 
 the left sleeve ; their distinctive dress was a blue 
 coat. The feeling that dignity depended largely 
 upon the size of the train of servants pervaded all 
 ranks of society. The domestics, at least while 
 they were within doors, were kept under the strictest 
 discipline. John Harington, in 1566, drew up a 
 set of rules by which the servants of his house were 
 governed. Such documents were common ; the fol- 
 lowing selection illustrates the character of the 
 supervision : 
 
 1. A servant shall not be absent from morning or 
 evening prayer without excuse, upon fine of 2d each time. 
 
 3. No man shall leave any door open that he findeth 
 shut, without cause — fine Id. 
 
 5. No bed shall be left unmade, nor fire or candle box 
 unclean, after 8 a. m. 
 
22 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 8. No man shall wait at table without a trencher in his 
 hand except for good cause — fine Id. 
 
 14-, No one shall provoke another to strike, or strike 
 another on pain of dismissal. 
 
 15. No man shall come to the kitchen without reasonable 
 cause — he shall be fined Id and the cook Id. 
 
 20. The court gate must be shut during each meal. 
 
 The fines are to be bestowed upon the poor. 
 
 The lady's maid and the page were important 
 personages in the household. The duty of the 
 former was to assist her mistress at her toilet, to 
 talk to her, to play games with her, and to 
 be general companion. The page performed all 
 sorts of small duties. If his mistress went to 
 church the page walked before her with prayer 
 book. If his master went into the street the page 
 walked behind with his sword. The page ran 
 errands, kept secrets, tidied up the room, and 
 did a number of other services that did not fall 
 to the lot of any particular servant. It was a 
 common custom to lend a page to some other 
 master for a time, an act that was considered the 
 highest compliment one could pay. 
 
 Before leaving the subject of servants, let us 
 see what was required of their mistresses. Gervase 
 Markham, a contemporary writer upon domestic 
 affairs, has a good deal to say in The English 
 Housewife concerning the duties of the mistress 
 of the house. She should be skilled in many things 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 23 
 
 that have passed out of fashion. To begin with, 
 she ought to understand medicine and nursing. 
 Markham assists her to a sufficient knowledge of 
 such things by descriptions of the various diseases 
 and by prescriptions for their cure. Here is a 
 fair example, the manner of treatment of quotidian 
 fever : " You shall take a new laid egg, and open- 
 ing the crown, you shall put out the white, then 
 fill up the shell with very good aquavitae, and stir 
 it and the yoke very well together, & then as soon 
 as you feel your cold fit begin to come upon you, 
 sup up the egg, and either labour till you sweat, 
 or else, laying great store of clothes upon you, put * 
 yourself in a sweat in your bed, and thus do while 
 your fits continue, and for your drink, let it be only 
 cool posset ale." 
 
 The housewife should also have a knowledge of 
 cookery, " else she can perform but half her vow in 
 marriage." She should have a knowledge of all 
 kinds of herbs, their uses, when to sow them, and 
 when to gather them. " At any time sow Aspara- 
 gus & colworts .... in the February new moon 
 
 Spike and Garlick full moon Parsley 
 
 March new moon Marigolds and violets 
 
 .... etc." She must also know when and what 
 herbs are to be transplanted. Concerning her abil- 
 ity to cook, Markham says, " she must have a quick 
 
24. SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 eye, a curious nose, a perfect taste, and a ready 
 eare; (she must not be butter-fingered, sweet- 
 toothed, nor faint-hearted;) for, the first will let 
 everything fall, the second will consume what it 
 should increase, and the last will lose time with too 
 much niceness. She must know how to prepare 
 sahds, simple and compound ; salids for show only ; 
 how to adorn the table," etc., etc. Moreover, the 
 housewife should understand the art of cutting up 
 meat, the making of cheese and butter, and the care 
 of poultry. 
 
 Markham lays great stress upon the proper serv- 
 ing of a meal. He off'ers the following sugges- 
 tion : " Thus you shall order them in your closet ; 
 but when they go to the table you shall first send 
 forth a dish made for show only, as Beaste, Bird, 
 Fish, or Fowle, according to invention: then your 
 marchpane, then your preserved fruit, then a paste, 
 then a wet sucket, then a dry sucket, marmelaide, 
 cumfits, apples, pears, wardens, oranges, and lem- 
 ons sliced; then wafers and another dish of pre- 
 served fruits, and so consequently all the rest be- 
 fore: no two dishes of one kind going or standing 
 together, and this will not only appear delicate to 
 the eye, but invite the appetite with the much vari- 
 ety thereof." The foregoing description refers to 
 the lighter part of the repast, known usually as the 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 25 
 
 banquet, the dishes being often set upon the table 
 first and the meat and game courses then served. 
 For a family not too large, Markham says that 
 sixteen dishes of meat and sixteen dishes of salads 
 and vegetables wiU, if properly distributed, be 
 sufficient. 
 
 Another duty of the housewife was distilling. 
 She ought to furnish herself with stills, and learn 
 their use in the preparation of medicines, perfumes, 
 sauces, etc. She should know all about the order- 
 ing of wines, she should be a competent brewer, and 
 know how to gauge wine and ale casks. Then, a 
 knowledge of wool was necessary. "The house- 
 wife should know when to send it to the dyer, yet, 
 in case of emergency, she should understand dye- 
 ing, the action whereof must be got by practice, 
 not by relation." All about flax was a part of her 
 knowledge, and skill in dairy work. Markham, 
 after enumerating all these various duties with de- 
 scriptions and receipts, belittles the value of his 
 own volume by saying the housewife must not only 
 find time to read and study about these things, but 
 also to practise them all, else the study will prove 
 of no avail. The modern reader should bear in 
 mind that the English housewife in the time of 
 Elizabeth was actually skilled in all these various 
 duties, and that it often fell to her lot to train ser- 
 
26 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 vants in them, even though she did not usually per- 
 form them herself. 
 
 Traders, except those who put up temporary 
 booths in Cheapside and the market fairs, lived in 
 the house where they carried on their business. To 
 their aid was called the service of several appren- 
 tices, who were bound to their master for a term of 
 years, each party to the agreement assuming cer- 
 tain responsibilities, the neglect of which was pun- 
 ishable by law. The apprentice lived in his mas- 
 ter's house, learned his trade or business, and when 
 discharged was considered sufficiently skilful to 
 set up in business on his own account. The feel- 
 ing of brotherhood among the 'prentice lads was 
 very strong. If one was insulted, all were insulted, 
 and many a sudden row assumed serious propor- 
 tions. Though allowed to carry no weapon except 
 the " club," the apprentice often became a for- 
 midable foe, as was the case at the time of the great 
 uprising known to history as Evil Mayday. The 
 position bf apprentice was not considered one of 
 degradation, and the frequent practice of a mas- 
 ter's daughter or widow marrying with his appren- 
 tice was not frowned upon by public opinion. 
 
 One who would comprehend the style of Eliza- 
 bethan dress must, for the time-being, set aside all 
 notion of simplicity or fit. In fact, the people of 
 
Domestic Architecture 
 (Old Houses at Chancery Lane and Fleet Street, 
 by J. T. Smith, drawn in 1789) 
 
 From an etching 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 27 
 
 that time carried their idea of what was proper in 
 wearing apparel to such a ridiculous extreme that 
 they were made the subject of innumerable satires; 
 and dress was the most popular point of attack by 
 all the abusive writers on reform. Bright colours, 
 elaborate trimming, and padding were the most 
 notable characteristics of Elizabethan dress ; pad- 
 ding was so fuU that all semblance of the human 
 body was lost, both to men and women. 
 
 " There is not any people under the zodiac of 
 heaven," says Philip Stubbs, " how clownish, rural, 
 or brutish soever, that is not so poisoned with this 
 arsenic of Pride, or hath drunk so deep of this cup 
 as Aelga [England] hath." Harrison, a contrib- 
 utor to Holinshed's History, wrote, " The phan- 
 tastical foUy of our nation (even from the courtier 
 to the carter) is such that no form of apparel liketh 
 us longer than the first garment is in the wearing, 
 if it continue so long, and be not laid aside to 
 receive some other trinket newly devised by the 
 fickle-headed tailors, who covet to have several 
 tricks in cutting, thereby to draw fond customers 
 
 to more expense of money And as 
 
 these fashions are diverse, so Kkewise it is a world 
 to see the costliness and the curiosity, the excess 
 and the vanity, the pomp and the bravery, and 
 finally the fickleness and folly, that is in aU degrees. 
 
28 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 insomuch that nothing is more constant in Eng- 
 land than inconstancy of attire." 
 
 This magnificent extreme obtained in all ranks 
 of life, as Harrison says, " from the courtier to the 
 carter." The only difference was that the rich 
 man dressed in more expensive stuffs ; he wore dia- 
 monds and rubies where the poor man wore beads 
 of coloured glass. He bought clothes oftener 
 than the poor man ; yet they were all alike in this : 
 they dressed as fine and finer than their pockets 
 would allow. 
 
 The kind of dress worn upon any occasion was 
 not dependent upon the time of day. A man would 
 appear at court in his gaudiest clothes, whether the 
 time was day or night, morning or afternoon. The 
 garments were stiffened and stuffed till the wearer 
 could not move with any comfort. A man in full 
 dress was laced from head to foot. His doublet 
 was laced or buttoned in front; the sleeves were 
 often laced to the armholes; the doublet was laced 
 to the hose ; the hose was laced ; sometimes even the 
 shoes were laced. A man could not dress himself 
 without assistance. Dressing, or " making-ready," 
 was such an undertaking that, once accomplished, 
 a man was glad to keep the same clothes on all day. 
 Women carried dress to an even greater extreme 
 than men. They put on a complete frame-work 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 29 
 
 of whalebone and wire before they began to assem- 
 ble the outer garments. When the process was 
 completed— f^emblance to a figure was obliterated. 
 Women were wide and round and stiff, and as rigid 
 as if made of metal; and their dress abounded in 
 straight lines and sharp angles. 
 
 What women achieved by means of wire and bone 
 men accomplished by means of wadding. Wool, 
 hair, rags, and often bran, were used to pad out the 
 doublet and hose. A writer in 1653 [Bulwer, Ar- 
 tificial Changeling'] tells a story of a young gal- 
 lant " in whose immense hose a small hole was torn 
 by a nail of the chair he sat upon, so that as he 
 turned and bowed to pay his court to the ladies, 
 the bran poured forth as from a mill that was grind- 
 ing, without his perceiving it, till half his cargo 
 was unladen on the floor." 
 
 Holme, in his Notes on Dress (Harl. 4375), 
 relates the following : " About the middle of Queen 
 EHzabeth's reign, the slops, or trunk hose, with 
 peascod-beUied doublets, were much esteemed, which 
 young men used to stuff with rags and other like 
 things, to extend them in compass, with as great 
 eagerness as women did take pleasure to wear great 
 and stately verdingales; for this was the same in 
 effect, being a sort of verdingale breeches. And 
 so excessive were they herein, that a law was made 
 
30 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 against them as did stuff their breeches to make 
 them stand out; whereas, when a certain prisoner 
 (in these times) was accused for wearing such 
 breeches, contrary to law, he began to excuse him- 
 self of the offence, and endeavoured by little and 
 little to discharge himself of that which he did wear 
 within them ; he drew out of his^ breeches a pair of 
 sheets, two table-cloths, ten napkins, four shirts, a 
 brush, a glasse, a comb, and night-caps, with other 
 things in use, saying: 'Your lordships may under- 
 stand that because I have no safer a store-house, 
 these pockets do serve me for a room to lay my 
 goods in ; and though it be a straight prison, yet it 
 is a store-house big enough for them, for I have 
 many things yet of value within them.' And so 
 his discharge was accepted and well laughed at; 
 and they commanded him that he should not alter 
 the furniture of his store-house, but that he should 
 rid the halle of his stuffe, and keep them as it 
 pleased him." 
 
 " The women," says Stubbs, " when they have 
 all these goodly robes upon them, seem to be the 
 smallest part of themselves, not natural women, but 
 artificial women ; not women of flesh and blood, but 
 rather puppets or mawmuts, consisting of rags and 
 clouts compact together." 
 
 People of high rank sometimes built the hair into 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 31 
 
 towering masses on the crown of the head; as a 
 rule, however, the hair was dressed plain, though 
 frequently covered with jewels. The Elizabethan 
 women, as well as the men, dyed their hair, not to 
 conceal the fact that it was turning gray, but to 
 please a passing fancy. There was no attempt 
 to disavow this practice, nor was the same colour 
 always used. In fact, the colour of the hair was 
 made to harmonise with the garments worn upon 
 any particular occasion. Those who did not care 
 to dye their hair wore wigs. The Elizabethans 
 revelled in wigs. The Records of the Wardrobe 
 show that Elizabeth possessed eighty at one time. 
 Mary Stuart, during a part of her captivity in 
 England, changed her hair every day. So usual 
 was this habit, and so great the demand for hair, 
 that children with handsome locks were never 
 allowed to walk alone in London streets, for fear 
 they would be kidnapped, and their tresses cut off. 
 
 Men wore hats of all shapes, sizes, and colours. 
 The most popular material was velvet. All sorts of 
 feathers were used by men to decorate the hats ; 
 black feathers eighteen inches or two feet in length 
 were in great demand; a common decoration was a 
 twisted girdle next the brim, called a "cable hat- 
 band." Some hats, however, were perfectly plain, 
 of soft felt ; others were velvet caps with a jewelled 
 
32 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 clasp. Occasionally small mirrors were worn in the 
 hat. The place for the hat was frequently upon 
 the head; but quite as often dangling down the 
 back by a ribbon. It was worn in either place, 
 either within or without doors. The hair was 
 usually cut short, with, however, a long lock behind 
 one or both ears. This was called the love-lock, 
 and was adorned with bows of ribbon. Men painted 
 the face quite as much as women. The moustache 
 was sometimes left very long. Hair, moustache, and 
 beard were coloured as fancy prompted. The fol- 
 lowing from The Midsummer Night's Dream is to 
 be understood quite literally : " Either your straw- 
 coloured beard, your orange-tawny beard, your 
 purple ingrain beard, or your French crown-col- 
 oured beard, your perfect yellow." (I. ii. 96.) 
 "Forsooth, they say the King is budded Another 
 of a pure carnation colour. Speckled with green and 
 russet." (Ford : The Broken Heart, II. i. ) Harri- 
 son writes : " Neither will I meddle with our variety 
 of beards, of which some are shaven from the chin 
 like those of the Turks, not a few cut short like the 
 beard of the Marquis Otto, some made round like a 
 rubbing brush . . . therefore if a man have 
 a lean, straight face, a Marquis Otto's cut will 
 make it broad and large ; if it be platter like, a long 
 slender beard will make it seem narrower. . . . 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 33 
 
 Some lusty courtiers also, and gentlemen of courage 
 do wear either rings of gold, stone or pearl, in their 
 ears, whereby they imagine the workmanship of 
 God not to be a little amended." 
 
 Stubbs writes in 1583: "They, the barbers, 
 have invented such strange fashions of monstrous 
 manners of cutting, trimming, shaving, and wash- 
 ing, that you would wonder to see." He mentions 
 the French cut; the Spanish, Dutch, and Italian; 
 the new, the old, the gentleman's, the common, the 
 court, and the country cuts. He concludes with: 
 " They have also other kinds of cuts innumerable ; 
 and therefore when you come to be trimmed they 
 will ask you whether you will be cut to look terrible 
 to your enemy, or amiable to your friends ; grim 
 and stern in countenance, or pleasant and demure, 
 for they have divers kinds of cuts for all these pur- 
 poses, or else they lie." Is it any wonder that such 
 words as fool, wretch, ape, and monkey were used 
 as terms of endearment ! 
 
 When one thinks of costume in the age of Eliza- 
 beth, one naturally thinks of three things as most 
 characteristic : the ruff, the huge padded hose, and 
 the farthingale. Of these three, the first is the 
 unique feature of the dress of that age. Ruffs of 
 our own time convey no idea of what ruffs were in 
 1600. During the time of the early Tudors par- 
 
34 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 telets, or narrow collars, of divers colours, gener- 
 ally made of velvet, were much worn by the nobil- 
 ity. These began to grow in size and use during 
 the reign of Elizabeth. As was usual in those 
 days, the new fashion was introduced by the men; 
 but the women were quick to follow in the adoption 
 of the rufF. Ruffs were made of linen, often deco- 
 rated with gold and silver thread, and adorned with 
 jewels. They were expensive garments and could 
 be worn but a few times. In 1564, however, a 
 woman became the great benefactor of English 
 society. This woman was Mrs. Dingham, wife of 
 a Dutch coachman in the service of the Queen. Mrs. 
 Dingham brought to England the art of starching. 
 The use of starch gave the ruff a new birth. It 
 could now be worn more than once ; and, in a trice, 
 ruffs were within the reach of all. Elizabeth wore 
 her ruffs closed in front, close under her chin ; most 
 women, however, who had fairer skin and shapeher 
 necks, preferred to wear the ruff open in front. 
 
 The ruff was made of hnen, much plaited, and 
 starched stiff, usually with white starch. For a 
 while yellow starch was popular, but the fad was 
 of short duration. Starch was also used in other 
 colours. Stubbs tells us that the women used " a 
 certain kind of liquid matter which they called 
 ■starch, wherein the devil hath willed them to wash 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 35 
 
 and die their ruffs well; and this starch they made 
 of divers colours and hues — white, red, blue, pur- 
 ple, and the like ; which, being drye, will then stand 
 stiff and inflexible about their neckes." 
 
 Wliat made the ruff so conspicuous was the size. 
 When first introduced it was modest and unpreten- 
 tious ; but nothing on which fashion then took a 
 fair hold could remain " confined within the modest 
 limits of order." We hear of ruffs that contained 
 eighteen or nineteen yards of linen. The fashion- 
 able depth was one-fourth of a yard. Sometimes 
 they were as much as one-third of a yard deep. 
 Imagine the head of a man or woman, like the hub 
 of a cartwheel, firmly gripped in the midst of a 
 mass of starched linen extending a foot on all sides ! 
 So cumbersome were these articles of dress that it 
 became necessary to underprop them with a frame- 
 work of wire to keep them from tumbling over of 
 their own weight, and to prevent them from drag- 
 ging their wearers' heads down with them. What 
 a stiff, unnatural carriage the habit of wearing 
 ruffs gave to the upper part of the body is fully 
 illustrated by the following : " He carries his face 
 in 's ruff, as I have seen a serving man carry glasses 
 in a cypress hat band, monstrous steady for fear of 
 breaking." (Webster : White Devil, II. iv. ) One's 
 head in the midst of such a ruff was free to move, 
 
36 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 of course, only within limits. In fact, people found 
 it most difficult to eat and drink. In France — for 
 this fashion was imported from Paris, where it was 
 carried to a greater extreme than in England — we 
 read of a loyal lady who found it necessary to take 
 soup out of a spoon two feet long. 
 
 The upper part of a woman's body was cased in 
 a neat, tightly laced bodice, that followed the con- 
 tour of the body closely. This was the only part 
 of the figure that retained its natural shape. The 
 bodice frequently projected downwards in a long, 
 sharp point below the stomach ; and was often open 
 towards the top to show the breast, or the stomacher 
 of brightly coloured silk beneath the crossed laces. 
 
 The corresponding garment for men was the 
 doublet. It was, however, usually padded and 
 stuiFed till nearly twice the natural size of the 
 body. The doublet was cut and slashed in front 
 and sides so as to show the gay-coloured lining of 
 costly material. It sometimes laced, but more fre- 
 quently buttoned up the front. Two or three but- 
 tons at the top were left open and the shirt of deli- 
 cate white lawn pulled out a little way. The doub- 
 let sometimes projected downward in front, when it 
 was called a peascod-bellied doublet; sometimes it 
 surrounded the hips like a short skirt. The sleeves 
 were usually removable and laced to the doublet 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 37 
 
 about the arm-holes. Working people who, of 
 course, wore doublets or jerkins that were only 
 slightly padded, often wore no sleeves at all, the 
 arms covered by the sleeves of the shirt. A pair 
 of draw-strings working opposite the small of the 
 back enabled one to tighten or loosen his doublet at 
 wiU. 
 
 There used to be a punishment in vogue in the 
 colony of New York, by which a man was com- 
 pelled to walk about encased in a barrel; his head 
 projected from one end, and his feet from the 
 other. The Elizabethan women did not carry a 
 barrel about their hips, but they carried a corre- 
 sponding bulk. What would correspond to a skirt 
 in our time was then called a farthingale. This ^ 
 name, however, was properly applied to the frame- 
 work of whalebone and wire which a woman buckled 
 on before she began to dress. It clamped her 
 tightly about the waist and was absolutely rigid. 
 One style gave a curve from the waist line down- 
 ward ; the other extended level from the waist, and 
 met the vertical line of drapery at right angles. In 
 either case the nether garments were supported by 
 this framework, much as we support the week's wash 
 on a rotary drier. The appearance of a fashion- 
 able woman when completely dressed was not unhke 
 the colonial culprit in his humiliation barrel, save 
 
38 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 that the farthingale reached to the floor and was 
 richly begirt with jet beads, strings of pearls, 
 jewels, and gold thread. The women of that day 
 thoroughly understood the art of tight lacing. 
 Some of the old pictures of a woman with a wasp- 
 like waist and huge farthingale look very much like 
 a tin soldier soldered to his base. In 1563 a law 
 was passed in France to limit farthingales to an ell, 
 or about four feet in diameter ; and the satirists tell 
 us that in this respect England outdid France. 
 
 The nether garment for men was called the hose. 
 Its size was likewise carried to a ridiculous extent. 
 The man, however, laboured under an additional dis- 
 advantage. Instead of spreading himself out with 
 whalebone, he gained his volume by padding. It 
 was from this garment that the poor fellow already 
 described took out his tablecloth, napkins, sheets, 
 and other household goods. 
 
 The shoes of this period were of various shapes 
 and of many colours. They were frequently 
 slashed below the instep in order to show the colour 
 of the stocking. At parting. Half, in the Shoe- 
 maker's Holiday (I. i.), gives Jane a pair of shoes 
 " made up and pinked with letters for thy name." 
 Hamlet speaks of " provincial roses in my razed 
 shoes." Razed were slashed shoes. " Provincial 
 roses " refers to the habit of wearing roses or 
 rosettes upon the instep. They were generally 
 
THE ELIZABETHANS 39 
 
 made of lace, and often decorated with gold thread, 
 spangles or even jewels. At times the roses were 
 worn very large, four or five inches in diameter. 
 " Why, 'tis the devil, I know him by a great rose he 
 wears on 's shoe to hide his cloven foot." (White 
 Devil, V. iii.) Corks, so often referred to in the old 
 plays, were shoes with cork soles that increased in 
 thickness toward the heel, where they might be two 
 or three inches thick. Their purpose was the same 
 as high heels, and when more fully developed be- 
 came known by another name. The chopine was a 
 device used by women principally, for the purpose 
 of increasing their height, and to keep their em- 
 broidered shoes and farthingales out of the mud 
 when they walked abroad. The chopine was an 
 extension of the high heel ; though, in its extreme 
 fashion, it is better described as a short stilt. The 
 shoe was fastened to the top, and the chopine was 
 frequently a foot high. The fashion came from 
 Venice, where the height of the chopine corre- 
 sponded roughly to the rank of the wearer. Per- 
 sons of very high rank have been known to wear 
 chopines eighteen inches high. The Venetian 
 woman so dressed could not walk alone, but required 
 the assistance of a staff, or to be led about upon the 
 arm constable-fashion. There is a line in one of 
 the old plays to the effect : when a woman walks on 
 chopines she cannot help but caper. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 THE EARLY GROWTH OF THE CITY 
 
 A LITTLE less than a century ago Sir Walter 
 Scott lamented the new service of quick 
 steam-packets that had been introduced between 
 London and Edinburgh, on the score of the danger 
 of individuality being blotted from the various 
 parts of the city. This facility of communication, 
 he thought, would give to London an undue share 
 in fashioning the thought and habits of the whole 
 kingdom. If the fear of the Wizard of the North 
 has been realised, the present state of affairs is but 
 a harking back to old conditions. In the time of 
 Queen Elizabeth London possessed, to an extent un- 
 known even to-day, an influence and domination 
 over the rest of England. It is not so much to point 
 this relation as to describe the city which exerted it 
 that the following pages are written. London, 
 through the fire of 1666, has lost more of its an- 
 cient landmarks, and through the_J'uritan domina- 
 tion more of its habits and customs, than almost any 
 other city of equal antiquity. ' Hence description 
 and illustration must combine to re-present the city 
 of our great dramatist before our eyes. Street 
 
 40 
 
EARLY GROWTH OF CITY 41 
 
 names in the City recall the ancient places, but the 
 places themselves are gone forever. 
 
 In early times, before the coming of the Romans, 
 much of the site of London was low, marshy 
 ground. The position and direction of some of 
 the old roads hint that it was a place of much impor- 
 tance, but there is no positive record to substan- 
 tiate the fact. The earliest known event in con- 
 nection with the rising city is the building of the 
 bridge ; and, though the exact date is unknown, the 
 bridge was probably built during the Roman 
 occupation. 
 
 London was still a small unwalled town when next 
 met with on the page of history, when, in A. D. 
 286, Carusius issued money coined at London. 
 The wall that converted the cluster of houses from 
 an insignificant village to a town of strength was 
 built some time late in the fourth century; and 
 nothing more definite can be said of its origin. It 
 occupied very nearly the site of the wall described 
 in the next chapter, and must have, therefore, 
 included much territory that was then open fields. 
 There is no evidence at present either in the form 
 of remains or of records that imply the existence 
 of Christian worship in the Roman city; and it 
 is fairly certain that the London of that day was 
 not a city of any particular magnificence. 
 
42 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 Difficult as it is to write a history of Roman 
 London, it is even more difficult to write a history 
 of Saxon London. What happened after the flight 
 of the Romans is altogether unknown. Concerning 
 the fate of the unhappy Britons left in the city 
 the page of history is blank. When we next hear 
 of London it has already become the chief town of 
 a flourishing Saxon kingdom. " In short," says 
 Mr. Loftie, " there are evidences, rather negative 
 than positive, it is true, to show that the East 
 Saxons found London desolate, with broken walls 
 and scanty population, if any ; that they entered 
 upon possession with no great feeling of exulta- 
 tion, after no great military feat deserving mention 
 in their chronicle ; and that they retained it only 
 just so long as the more powerful neighbouring 
 kings allowed them." It is probable that the wall 
 was destroyed in the Saxon conquest, inasmuch as 
 no defence was made against the Danes, and it had 
 to be rebuilt by Alfred. The new Saxon occupants 
 renamed everything, and, with the possible excep- 
 tion of Dowgate, no Celtic name remains. London 
 at this time was a source of weakness rather than 
 of strength to its possessor. 
 
 It was probably as a renewal of the dilapidated 
 wall that Erkenwald built the gate that has been 
 called after him to this day : Bishopsgate. In the 
 
EARLY GROWTH OF CITY 43 
 
 meantime London had become Christianised and 
 had received its first bishop, Mellitus, in 604. From 
 this time dates the foundation of Saint Paul's and 
 perhaps of Westminster. Shortly afterward Lon- 
 don drove out its religious representatives and 
 relapsed again into paganism. The church of 
 Saint Ethelberga probably dates from this period, 
 as does the church of Saint Osith, and doubtless the 
 four churches dedicated to the patron saint of East 
 Anglia: Saint Botolph. After 800 London may 
 be said "to be no longer the capital of one Saxon 
 kingdom, but to be the special property of what- 
 ever kingdom was then paramount in all England." 
 (Loftie.) Again and again London was ravished 
 by the Danes, and whatever vestige of the Roman 
 occupation survived the Saxon conquest must have 
 then disappeared. 
 
 In 878, by the treaty of Wedmore between King 
 Alfred and the Danes, the kingdom was divided 
 and the part containing London was given to the 
 foe. The Danes, however, put little faith in walls, 
 preferring to meet their enemies in the open fields. 
 They therefore paid little attention to fortifying 
 their new possession. But Alfred was a wiser mon- 
 arch. He used the period of peace that followed 
 the treaty merely to recuperate his strength, then 
 recaptured the city and drove away the invaders. 
 
44 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 He at once repaired or rebuilt, as alluded to above, 
 the ruined wall. 
 
 Four times during the reign of Ethelred the Un- 
 ready the citizens drove away King Sweyn; then, 
 when the Danes had mastered all else, the London- 
 ers saw that further opposition would be useless. 
 They abandoned Ethelred to his fate and com- 
 pounded with the enemy. They rebelled, however, 
 against Cnut, son of Sweyn, and summoned Ethel- 
 red back. He came, accompanied by King Olaf 
 of Norway. The bridge turned out to be the great 
 strategic point. Olaf roofed his boats to protect 
 his crews, rowed boldly up to the bridge, and fas- 
 tened ropes about the piers. Then he gave orders 
 to row away, and literally tore the bridge down. 
 By this means the Danes in London and those in 
 Southwark were separated and became easy prey. 
 
 The coronation of Edmond Ironside, son of Ethel- 
 red, took place in London, 1016. This is the first 
 recorded instance of Londoners taking part in the 
 election of a king. When Edward, later in the 
 year, was compelled to make terms with Cnut, he 
 was able to retain possession of London. At his 
 death in lOlT, however, Cnut was acknowledged 
 king over all England. Thus the city once more 
 passed into other hands. From this period have 
 survived the names of St. Olave, St. Magnus, and 
 
EARLY GROWTH OF CITY 45 
 
 possibly St. Clement Danes. It is during the 
 reign of Cnut that civil government begins to 
 be mentioned in contemporary documents. 
 
 This is a meagre list of facts for a thousand 
 years of history, but it is all. It sounds strange 
 to say so, but it is the fact, that the history of Lon- 
 don has remained unwritten till our own time. His- 
 torian after historian, and there have been many, 
 have written what was called the history of London, 
 copying each other's errors and asserting as facts 
 the hazy traditions that fill those delightful old 
 story books, the Chronicles. It was not till Mr. 
 Loftie's history appeared that we possessed any- 
 thing like a narrative of the early time which stood 
 upon a basis of fact rather than upon tradition. 
 To be sure, he was compelled to write lines where 
 others had written pages ; but this cannot be helped, 
 and there is hope that research and investigation 
 will multiply details. Until that time, however, we 
 possess a history that, though meagre in detail, is 
 thoroughly trustworthy. Since the appearance 
 of Mr. Loftie's book another by Mr. Sharpe, 
 that indefatigable searcher among the Guildhall 
 archives, has come before the public. It is far 
 more continuous and complete than the former, to 
 which it is a complement rather than a rival: for 
 Mr. Loftie deals mainly with topographical devel- 
 
46 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 opment, Mr. Sharpe with the development of poUti- 
 ical institutions. It is needless to say how far the 
 present writer is indebted to these volumes for the 
 substance of this chapter. 
 
 After the Norman conquest London ceased to be 
 the residence of the sovereign. When successive 
 kings had occasion to reside in the neighbourhood 
 they made their residence at Westminster or at the 
 Tower — for the Tower, strictly speaking, was not 
 a part of the city. This change in residence of the 
 kings was far from ill for London. The city be- 
 came far more independent and manly in its tem- 
 per and grew to depend more and more upon its 
 own internal resources. WilKam the Conqueror 
 granted to London the first of that long series of 
 charters that eventually secured the rights of the 
 citizens and their numerous fondly cherished cus- 
 toms and privileges. He had, however, no idea of 
 rendering the newly chartered corporation too inde- 
 pendent of himself, a condition of affairs he began 
 to prepare for by commencing the construction of 
 the White Tower, which was intended both to over- 
 awe and to protect the city. 
 
 It should be remembered that the old Roman 
 wall ran directly south towards the river, which it 
 joined. Part of this wall was removed — perhaps 
 the very foundation was in part used in the con- 
 
EARLY GROWTH OF CITY 47 
 
 struction of the Tower raised upon its site. Thus 
 doubtless arose the tradition, which found behevers 
 in Shakespeare's time, that the Tower was originally 
 built by Julius Csesar. The enclosure that con- 
 tained the walls and moat surrounding the White 
 Tower was half within and half without the old 
 city boundary ; but the whole was thenceforth con- 
 sidered to be without the city. This question gave 
 rise to many subsequent quarrels over the proper 
 jurisdiction to be exercised by the Lord Mayor and 
 the Constable of the Tower, and was not fully set- 
 tled even in the time of Ehzabeth. 
 
 The Tower was begun about ten years after 
 Hastings and was carried on by Rufus, but it was 
 long before it assumed the splendid proportions 
 described in a later chapter. In 1087, the year of 
 the accession of William Rufus, a great fire oc- 
 curred in the city, by which the cathedral of Saint 
 Paul was destroyed. The rebuilding on a more 
 magnificent scale was the beginning of the struc- 
 ture familiar to the eyes of Shakespeare. 
 
 A new charter granted by Henry I. still further 
 guaranteed the citizens in their rights. They were 
 absolved from the payment of any feudal services, 
 and, what was of even greater value to them, they 
 were granted the farm of the revenues of Middle- 
 sex, and were given leave to appoint their own jus- 
 
48 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 ticier, and were relieved from resorting to any court 
 outside the city. The importance and power of 
 London was shown when Stephen in his contest 
 with Maud threw himself for support upon the good 
 will of the citizens. They claimed their ancient 
 privilege of being heard in the election of a king, 
 and proceeded to elect Stephen, who had thus politi- 
 cally flattered their vanity. Each swore fidelity to 
 the other, an oath firmly kept by the city, but soon 
 broken by the faithless king. Within a few years 
 he robbed them of their right to elect their chief 
 officer, and only restored the privilege after the 
 payment of a heavy fine. 
 
 In 1136 occurred the first great fire of London. 
 It broke out in the neighbourhood of London Stone, 
 and burned eastward as far as the gate over the 
 Essex Road, westward to the cathedral, and south- 
 ward till it destroyed the approaches to London 
 Bridge. 
 
 With the accession of Henry II. a period of com- 
 parative prosperity set in. The city received con- 
 firmation of all the privileges granted by his grand- 
 father, many of which had been rescinded by 
 Stephen and Maud. It was during this reign that 
 Fitzstephen wrote the earliest descriptive account 
 of London, so frequently quoted in the pages of 
 Stow. The city was then young and hardy, hav- 
 
EARLY G ROWTH OF CITY 49 
 
 ing been almost entirely rebuilt since the Conquest. 
 The aggressive citizens felt secure of their rights. 
 Fitzstephen paints it all in glowing colours, with 
 great pride and prophetic hope of the future great- 
 ness of the corporation. 
 
 Times, however, were soon to change. With the 
 accession of Richard I. the chief magistrate assumed 
 the title of mayor, which he has borne ever since. 
 But from this time till the accession of Edward I. 
 the history of London is one long and bitter strug- 
 gle on the part of the citizens for their rights 
 against the encroaching kings. Now one side 
 gained a victory, now another. Towards the end 
 of the reign of Henry III. fate set steadily against 
 the city, till it was reduced to a state of abject 
 servitude. Yet the haughty spirit of the sturdy 
 Londoners would not for long brook this state of 
 affairs. Nearly all that had been lost was won back 
 during the next reign. The rule of Edward I. was 
 stern but just. Before his rule was well under way 
 order was restored ; and for some time there was no 
 further serious infringement of civic liberties. In 
 1290 the list and limits of the wards became sub- 
 stantially what they are to-day. 
 
 "The twenty-five councillors who advised the 
 king in the reign of King John had gradually be- 
 come identified with the aldermen; and this title. 
 
60 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 which was at first applied to the heads of trade 
 guilds and other functionaries, was thenceforth 
 confined to the rulers of the wards. The city was 
 parcelled out into twenty-four divisions. Each 
 division was to elect its alderman except Portsoken, 
 of which the Prior of Aldgate was ex officio alder- 
 man. There were many signs in other wards that 
 the old hereditary system was long in dying out, 
 and the aldermanry of Farrington, which then com- 
 prised both the modern wards of that name, con- 
 tinued to be vested in William Farrington, who had 
 bought it, and his son Nicholas, for no less than 
 €ighty years." (Loftie.) 
 
 In the reign of Edward I. we have the first dis- 
 tinct mention of the Livery Companies, which leads 
 to a short digression. From very early times there 
 were guilds, mainly religious, but also connected 
 with the crafts, in London. Out of these may have 
 grown the Livery Companies, but there is no posi- 
 tive evidence to connect the two sets of organisa- 
 tions. The trading companies come into notice in 
 1272, when Walter Hervey was elected Lord Mayor 
 of London. There was strife between the oh- 
 garchic party in the city and the commons or 
 tradesmen. Whatever system existed under the 
 old order of guilds was insufiicient to bond the com- 
 monalty together. Hervey solved the difficulty. 
 
EARLY GROWTH OF CITY 51 
 
 " No longer striving for one great union against 
 the citj' guild, he organised all the city trades sep- 
 arately, and, assuming as chief to the city execu- 
 tive the right to grant charters of incorporation to 
 the craftsmen, he called a new force into existence. 
 Bringing order out of disorder, he faced the alder- 
 men with a hydra-headed combination, against 
 which the struggle was found to be useless. The 
 charters he granted were not called into question 
 while he remained mayor." (Loftie.) Early in 
 January, 1274<, all these charters were annulled. 
 This fact, however, did not vanquish the new power 
 that had been called into existence. The craftsmen 
 were becoming still more powerful, and before long 
 began to seek charters of incorporation from the 
 King himself; and they soon became so influential 
 as to be, so to speak, the very city itself. The 
 earHest royal charters date from 1327, when the 
 incorporation took place of the goldsmiths, the 
 tailors and armourers, and the skinners. Edward 
 III. also gave charters to the grocers, fishmongers, 
 drapers, and vintners. " The work of incorpora- 
 tion went on merrily during this and several suc- 
 ceeding reigns. Eight of the twelve Great Com- 
 panies were chartered before the end of Edward's 
 life. Exclusiveness and monopoly were, of course, 
 the object of each society thus formed. They de- 
 
52 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 sired to regulate trade and also to regulate traders. 
 They fixed the prices. They fixed the method of 
 manufacture. They made rules as to the conduct 
 and even the dress of the members. It is apparent 
 that to do this effectually they required to have 
 power to forbid all interference from without. No 
 one must carry on their trade who was not of their 
 mystery. It will be remembered how the charters 
 of William Hervey were superseded for the want 
 of this power. The royal charters conferred it, 
 though it may be doubted if the mayor's charters 
 may not have been legally quite eflicient — and every 
 new company as it was formed sought for the dis- 
 tinction of a grant from the king himself." 
 (Loftie.) 
 
 The companies had now become aU powerful 
 governors of the city's trade. One step more 
 made them the rulers of the city government. The 
 old method of electing the mayor did not work satis- 
 factorily. " In 1375, accordingly, it was super- 
 seded, and the Great Companies were recognised in 
 an ordinance by which the power of nomination 
 was taken from the wards and given to the compa- 
 nies, and by which the persons so nominated were 
 to be summoned to the council and to the elections." 
 (Loftie.) 
 
 This is the period of greatest civic importance. 
 
EARLY GROWTH OF CITY 53 
 
 though not of mercantile prosperity, of the Livery 
 Companies. " Not only was the common council 
 to be elected in future by the guilds, but the guilds 
 were also to elect the mayor and the sheriffs. The 
 aldermen and commons were to meet together at 
 least once a quarter, and no member of the common 
 council was to serve on inquests, nor to be appointed 
 collector, or assessor of tailkge." (Sharpe.) 
 
 This new power of the Livery Companies was 
 not to be enjoyed long. This pre-eminence in civic 
 affairs ended in 1384, when it was said that the new 
 system had been forced upon the citizens. It was 
 therefore resolved to revert to the old system of 
 election by wards. At that time the municipal 
 government became substantially what it is to-day. 
 
 The history of London during the Wars of the 
 Roses is mainly of events rather than of civic devel- 
 opment. The legend of Richard Whittington is 
 known in every nursery. King Edward was still 
 alive when the lad of thirteen came up to London 
 to be apprenticed to a wealthy mercer and to begin 
 his wonderful career. In due time he was made 
 free of the Mercers' Company ; and in 1397 King 
 Richard, who had been attracted by the energetic 
 shrewdness of the young man, undertook to make 
 him mayor in an underhand way. At the death of 
 a mayor during his term of office the King arbitra- 
 
54 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 rily appointed Whittington in his place. This 
 infringement of their hberties, however, did not 
 seriously oifend the citizens, a sterling tribute to 
 the popularity of the new mayor. He was not 
 ' mayor the year Henry IV. came to the throne, but 
 was re-elected in 1406. 
 
 About this time a new force enters the history of 
 England and becomes closely related to the history 
 of London. The city by this time had become so 
 large and so wealthy and so stable that every move- 
 ment of importance in the realm was concerned to 
 know how it would be received by the citizens. The 
 day of popularity of the great mediaeval religious 
 institutions was verging towards its close. Though 
 a century and a half was to elapse before their final 
 spohation under Henry VIII., their doom was vir- 
 tually sealed by the conditions that required the 
 passage in 1401 of an act for burning heretics. 
 From the beginning of Lollardry, the forerunner 
 of the Reformation, London was intimately con- 
 nected with the fate of the religious orders. The 
 first victim of the law was William Sawtree, a mass 
 priest of Saint Osyth, who was " brent in Smyth- 
 felde . . . for erysse." In 1414 came the 
 Lollard insurrection under the leadership of Sir 
 John Oldcastle, which resulted in the death of this 
 good man. During these years London was sorely 
 
EARLY GROWTH OF CITY 55 
 
 distracted ; but we can easily imagine the turn 
 towards joy and pride that took place when 
 news of their beloved King's victory came from 
 Agincourt. 
 
 In 1419 Whittington was mayor for the last 
 time. The exact date of his death is not known, 
 though his will was proved in 1423. His name is 
 worth remembering by all who have a homely pride 
 in London. His gifts to the city of his prosperity 
 continued after his death. In addition to the col- 
 lege for priests in St. Michael, Paternoster Royal, 
 he gave books and a building to Greyfriars, and 
 has the credit for founding the first city library. 
 He rebuilt Newgate, set fountains in various parts 
 of the city, and left a multitude of other small 
 bequests. 
 
 In 1418, during the mayoralty of Sir Henry 
 Barton, the lighting of the streets with lamps was 
 made compulsory. In 1423 the infant Henry VI. 
 entered London. The streets of the city at once 
 became the battleground of the factions at war 
 with each other during the King's minority. He 
 was crowned at Paris in 1429, but matters were not 
 bettered at home. For years London was now in 
 the hands of York, now in those of Lancaster. In 
 general, the records of this time are very meagre, 
 but they are full and authentic concerning that 
 
56 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 strange rebellion of the Kentish men under the 
 leadership of Jack Cade. For a few days he fully 
 possessed the panic-stricken city. He sat himself 
 down in the Guildhall, whence he pompously issued 
 orders to the assembled mayor and aldermen. But 
 he overshot himself, and in a few days Cade was a 
 fallen star, with his head alone still high, elevated 
 upon a staff to ornament London Bridge. 
 
 Up to 1452 the city was thoroughly loyal to 
 King Henry. The triumphant entry of York, who 
 conducted the King a prisoner to London after the 
 battle of St. Albans in 1455, left no doubt that the 
 temper of the citizens had changed from its former 
 loyalty. There was a momentary hesitation on 
 the part of London when the tide of battle turned 
 in favour of that " tiger's heart wrapped in a 
 woman's hide," but their spirit returned with the 
 appearance of the warlike son of the Duke of York. 
 London hastened to exercise its ancient privilege 
 and proclaimed Edward IV. King of England. 
 
 "From the accession of Edward IV. a change 
 comes over our city annals. The civic constitution 
 was now settled. The outermost ring of suburbs 
 had been enclosed. The last touches had been put 
 to the fabric over which rival aldermen and com- 
 mon councillors had contended for centuries. The 
 city had become venerable. Her citizens had begun 
 
EARLY GROWTH OF CITY 57 
 
 to 'think upon her stones.' The repair of the 
 Roman wall, carried out in 1476, is one of the first 
 examples of modern ' restoration,' namely, the falsi- 
 fication of the history of a building. The first of 
 the long series of London antiquaries, the first 
 dramatist who was to illustrate her history, her 
 people, her streets, for readers of all generations, 
 were not yet born, but their time was drawing very 
 nigh, and the printing press was already at work. 
 Fortunately for us the old associations had begun 
 to be studied before Cromwell and the fire came to 
 obliterate them. Stow has made the stage and 
 painted the scenery, and Shakespeare has put in the 
 figures. ... In writing the plays that relate 
 to London In those times he could speak of what 
 was actually before his eyes. The Wars of the 
 Roses were not more remote from him than the 
 Scots' Rebellion is from us. He stood with respect 
 to the sad story of Henry VI. nearly as we stand 
 to that of George III." (Loftie.) 
 
 Edward retained the good will of London till his 
 death. The city was proud of his victories, and 
 the people loved his extravagant expenditure. Trade 
 revived and all went merrily for a few years. The 
 city gave a cold welcome to Richard III., as all 
 may read in Shakespeare's play, and, though they 
 allowed him to act as if he had been honestly pro- 
 
58 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 claimed king by the city itself, it was a half-hearted 
 tolerance they gave him, and they joyfully wel- 
 comed the conqueror who found the crown of Eng- 
 land upon a bush on Bos worth Field. 
 
 With the accession of the Tudors this brief note 
 on the development of the city may suitably close. 
 It had become in appearance and extent practically 
 what is described in the following pages. Henry 
 VII. began what was the policy of the Tudors 
 throughout: high-handed tyranny executed by 
 force. What in earlier times would have been 
 encroachments on the city rights, were under the 
 Tudors merely violations, not denials of those 
 rights. The moment the strong hand was removed 
 the city sprang upright with its personality unim- 
 paired. Henry VIII. during his long reign, in 
 which occurred the Dissolution of the Monasteries, 
 was always popular in London. The city was 
 dumb with horror during the Marian persecution, 
 but were loyal to the Maiden Queen for nearly half 
 a century. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 A GENERAL VIEW OF LONDON 
 
 DOUGHLY speaking medieval London began 
 *■ ^ with the building of the White Tower by 
 iVilliam the Conqueror, and ended with the great 
 ire of 1666. Throughout this long period 
 ihanges were made from year to year; but, after 
 he great religious establishments were once built, 
 he face of London changed so slowly that the 
 jicture of one generation is the picture of the next. 
 The most sudden sweeping change was made at the 
 dissolution of the Monasteries, and the period of 
 aost rapid expansion was the reign of Elizabeth, 
 t is the London of the latter half of the sixteenth 
 entury and the beginning of the seventeenth, the 
 tiost brilliant period in its history between Has- 
 ings and the Fire, that the following pages essay 
 o present. 
 
 Three hundred years ago the relative impor- 
 ance of London to the rest of England was even 
 ;reater than it is to-day. All the theatres and 
 11 the publishers of note were in London or in the 
 nmediate vicinity. The court was held for most 
 f the time at Westminster, There was but one 
 kOyal Exchange in the kingdom. All persons of 
 59 
 
60 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 any pretence to wealth or influence possessed their 
 town house or inn. The city set the manners and 
 furnished the news for the whole island; it was, 
 indeed, the heart of the kingdom. 
 
 In order to draw a fancy picture of the Eliza- 
 bethan city as Shakespeare knew it, one who is 
 familiar with the modern metropolis must blot 
 from his mind all present associations — not only 
 in regard to size, but also in regard to outward 
 aspect, and in the manners and customs of the 
 people; for in these respects the city of that day 
 was wholly diff^erent from the city of this. It 
 should be remembered that the fire of 1666 prac- 
 tically swept away all but the suburbs of Eliza- 
 bethan London. Hardly a town in the world of 
 ancient origin preserves so' few of its original 
 structures as does the capital of England. One 
 can go about the city to-day and encounter prac- 
 tically nothing besides the street names that reminds 
 him of times before the Fire. Roughly speaking, 
 a line connecting the Tower, Crosby Hall, Christ 
 Church, Ludgate Circus, and the approach to 
 Blackfriar's Bridge includes the part of the city de- 
 stroyed by the great conflagration. And this area, 
 though it is but a small part of the city we know, 
 constituted the major part of the city in 1600.* 
 
 * The part of the modern metropolis known as The City 
 approximates in area the Elizabethan city. 
 
' i ijnsi-:!:^-;;'' -i 4 fir, J 
 
 r ~hJk. ■ I; " n , "irs!^! :.z\ til c ; 
 
 
 
GENERAL VIEW OF LONDON 63 
 
 across the Thames. London Bridge of those days 
 was a little east of the present structure; in fact, 
 it crossed the river just where St. Magnus' Church 
 now stands. It was an arched bridge of nearly a 
 score of arches, no two of them exactly the same 
 in width. About the piers were timber frame- 
 works of wood that so encroached upon the water- 
 way that the flow while the tide was rising and 
 falling was greatly impeded. Such obstacles were 
 these lozenge-shaped " starlings," that the backing 
 up of the water at mid-tide produced a fall be- 
 neath the bridge of several feet. Pennant alludes 
 to the sound of the falling waters in the following 
 words : " Nothing but use could preserve the rest 
 of the inmates who soon grew deaf to the sound 
 of falling water, the clamours of watermen, or the 
 frequent shrieks of drowning wretches." The old 
 plays sometimes refer to the sound of the bridge 
 being heard over the whole city. This natural 
 water-fall was pressed into use to operate a set of 
 force pumps that supplied water to a large part 
 of the city. Much of the local travel that is now 
 carried on in cabs was then performed upon the 
 river in small boats. The cry with which one 
 hailed a waterman was Westward ho 1 or Eastward 
 ho! according to the direction. If, in the jour- 
 ney, it was necessary to cross the bridge at mid- 
 tide the passenger had to land and wait. Some- 
 
64. SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 times they " shot " the bridge, that is, took their 
 chances of mishap and went over the fall. The 
 danger that attended this kind of rapid transit 
 gave rise to the proverb : London Bridge was made 
 for wise men to walk over and fools to go under. 
 When the Princess Elizabeth, afterwards the 
 Queen, was conveyed a prisoner to the Tower, it 
 was necessary for the boatmen to row about in the 
 neighbourhood of the bridge for an hour before 
 it was deemed safe to " shoot." 
 
 What to us appears the most peculiar feature 
 of this old bridge was not the starHngs or the 
 noisy river, but the covered way or arcade that 
 capped the arches throughout the entire length. 
 From end to end, with the exception of two small 
 openings, London Bridge was covered with houses 
 that enclosed and roofed a narrow street: dwell- 
 ings above and shops below. There were many 
 kinds of shops, but in the time of Elizabeth the 
 bridge was especially noted for the manufacture 
 of pins, and the fair dames of London often bar- 
 gained among the narrow stalls above the water 
 for this indispensable article of dress. 
 
 At the southern end of the bridge was a huge 
 towered gate-house whose principal use in the days 
 of Queen Bess was to afford a resting place for 
 traitors' heads. Imagine the trait of character 
 that prompted the people to flock to an execution 
 
GENERAL VIEW OF LONDON 65 
 
 by the hundred, in holiday attire, and afterward 
 gaze unshocked upon a score of bloody heads on 
 pikes, grinning ghastly from the battlemented 
 tower. About midway on the bridge was a hand- 
 some chapel. Beneath the last three arches of 
 the northern end were the pumps for forcing 
 water to which allusion has already been made. 
 At the London approach was another tower, almost 
 in ruins by the third quarter of the century, and 
 taken down by the end. 
 
 Unless Hentzner hailed a boat at the stairs of 
 the Bear tavern by the bridge foot with the cry 
 of Northward ho ! he must have entered the city 
 along the gloomy bridgq. The roadway through 
 this structure was scarcely wider than a single 
 cart, and in the press one had to exercise consider- 
 abl6"^ingenuity to escape collision, the bridge being 
 always a busy thoroughfare. At two places only 
 were open spaces where people could stand for 
 safety. 
 
 Instead of following the Dutch traveller to his 
 tavern, let us take a general view of the outward 
 appearance of the city in methodical order. The 
 city, as has been said, was then comparatively 
 small; it was also comparatively open in the 
 manner of building. For, though the streets pre- 
 sented solid and continuous lines of house fronts, 
 there were gardens behind most of them. In fact, 
 
66 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 many of the city blocks resembled open courtyards 
 occupied on the four sides with buildings. There 
 were numerous churches, and about most of them 
 burying grounds of considerable size. Further- 
 more, it was but a short walk to the country in any 
 direction. Ten minutes was sufficient for a person 
 to reach the open fields from any part of London 
 afoot. Hunting and hawking were still commoij 
 sports of the neighbourhood and were carried on 
 as near the centre of the city as the British Museum 
 or the Liverpool Street Station. 
 
 Elizabethan London, which in area corresponded 
 closely with the modern City was surrounded by 
 a wall that remained almost intact on three sides 
 till a time long subsequent to that under description. 
 Even so early as the days of Fitzstephen the 
 river side of the wall had disappeared, leaving no 
 trace of its existence except in such names as 
 Dowgate and Billingsgate. The course of the 
 Elizabethan wall was from the north side of the 
 Tower ditch, along the Minories in a northwesterly 
 direction to Aldgate ; then, curving west and north, 
 followed Camomile and Wormwood Streets and 
 London Wall. The angle of the wall at the north- 
 west comer is still marked by the existing base of 
 the tower which stands in the churchyard of St. 
 Giles, Cripplegate. From this point the wall 
 turned directly south along the present Noble 
 
London Wall 
 (A portion in churchyard of St. Giles's, Cripplegate. 
 by J. T. Smith, drawn in 1793) 
 
 From an etching 
 
GENERAL VIEW OF LONDON 67 
 
 Street, west, crossing Aldersgate Street, and south- 
 west between St. Bartholomew's the Great and 
 Christ's Hospital to a point west of Newgate 
 prison. Thence it ran south to Ludgate Hall, 
 west to Ludgate Circus, and south again to the 
 river. 
 
 The wall was built, except for a small portion, 
 upon the foundation of an earlier Roman waU. 
 The more recent structure was partly of rough 
 stone and partly of tile, and was capped by a 
 battlemented wall of brick and stone. At short 
 and irregular intervals were small towers in addi- 
 tion to the fortified gate-house. None of these 
 smaller towers has survived, nor is there any accu- 
 rate description of them. The base of one in St. 
 Giles churchyard has been mentioned and another 
 was discovered after a fire about a century ago. 
 It was two and twenty feet in height, but not 
 complete. 
 
 There were several gates: the Tower postern, 
 Aldgate, Bishopsgate, Moorgate postern. Aiders- 
 gate, Greyfriar's postern, Newgate, and Ludgate. 
 These, with the exceptions of the posterns, were 
 huge towered structures, with, usually, a triple 
 passage: one for vehicles, the others for pedes- 
 trians. The latter were closed at night by heavy 
 doors, the former by ponderous portcullises. New- 
 gate and Ludgate were used as prisons, the others 
 
68 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 often as private dwellings for those who guarded 
 the gates. 
 
 The wall on the outer side was bordered by a 
 ditch two hundred feet across ; on the west side, 
 however, the place of the ditch was taken by the 
 Fleet River. Of old time the ditch not only was 
 a defence, but also supplied most of the water and 
 much of the fish used in the city. In Elizabethan 
 times, however, it had become too filthy for such 
 purposes, and was, moreover, encroached upon in 
 many places, filled up with debris, turned into 
 garden plots, and otherwise marred and displaced, 
 much to the chagrin of the old historian Stow. 
 
 This relic of mediaeval life had been of real ser- 
 vice to the city in the time of Queen Mary, and 
 actually formed an obstacle that turned to naught 
 the ill-starred rebellion of Essex; yet, in spite of 
 these facts, the wall was an obsolete and useless 
 feature of London life. It was no longer neces- 
 sary as a protection, and, in consequence, the city 
 began to spread beyond the limits of its confines 
 at the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth. By 
 the end, the jurisdiction of the Lord Mayor ex- 
 tended over the adjacent ground north of the river 
 in every direction for a distance varying from one 
 to three-fourths of a mile. All this area, however, 
 was not wholly occupied by buildings. On the east, 
 running northwest from the Tower, was a single 
 
Of one of the former 12 Companies is the Lo. Mayor of the Cyte comenly chosec 
 streete. f. Aldermanburye. g". Barbican, h. Aldersgate streete. i. Charterhowse. k. 
 
 fi. S. Androwes. q. Newgate. r. S. lones. s. S. Nic shambels. t. Cheap syde. 
 No I in Map.] 2. Colmanstreete. 3. Bassings hall. 4. Hounsditche. 5. Leaden hall. 
 II. Paules. 12. Eastcheape. 13. Fleetstreete. 14. Fetter lane. 15. S. Dunshous. 16. 1 
 SI. Battle bridge. 22, Bermodsoy streete, loannes Norden Anglus descripsit anoo 1593. 
 
 NORDEN'S MAP 
 Engraved by Van den Keere. Photographed on wood from the cony in t 
 
Bushops gate streete. b. Papie. c. Alhallowes in the wall. d. S. Taphyns. e. Syluer 
 arne Conduit. 1. Chauncery lane. m. Temple barr. n. Holbourn, o. Grayes Inn lane. 
 Lcklers burye, w. Brodestreete. x. The stockes. y. The Exchannge. z. CornehilL 
 ■ratious streete. 7. Heneage house. 8. Fanchurche. 9. Marke lane. 10. Minchyn lane. 
 3 streete. 17. London stone. 18. Olde Baylye. 19. Clerkenwell. 20. Winchester house. 
 
 LONDON IN 1593. 
 
 ritish Museum by Stephen Thompson, and re-engraved by W. H. Hooper. 
 
GENERAL VIEW OF LONDON 69 
 
 row of houses along the Minories. The same was 
 true of much of the north side of the city ; but in 
 the immediate vicinity of the gates the populated 
 portion extended along the high road for some 
 little distance. There was, Stow tells us, a con- 
 tinuous line of houses along the river east of the 
 Tower for half a mile or more ; and the road from 
 Bishopsgate was well occupied all the way to 
 Shoreditch Church, which was well outside the city 
 limits. Northwest of the city in the vicinity of 
 Smithfield, and the church and hospital of St. 
 Bartholomew's, a considerable hamlet had sprung 
 into existence. The Strand was lined upon the 
 south side with palatial residences all the way to 
 Westminster, though the mayor's jurisdiction 
 stopped then, as it does now, at Temple Bar. The 
 north side of the Strand was built upon for the 
 first time during the reign of Elizabeth. 
 
 The population of the city of that day cannot 
 be accurately given ; but a fairly trustworthy 
 estimate can be obtained. The city contained in 
 all likelihood not far from one hundred thousand 
 people, with as many more in Westminster, South- 
 wark, and the neighbouring suburbs to the north 
 and west. It is interesting to note the foreign 
 population at this time. In 1567 there were 40 
 Scots, 428 French, 45 Spaniards and Portuguese, 
 140 Italians, 2030 Dutch, 44 Burgundians, 2 
 
70 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 Danes, and 1 Liegois. In 1580 there were 2302 
 Dutch, 1838 French, 116 Itahans, 1542 English 
 bom of foreign parents, and 664 not specified. 
 
 The increase of native population kept pace with 
 the foreign increase, a tendency the government 
 tried hard to interrupt. A proclamation of Eliza- 
 beth forbade the erection of any new buildings 
 upon hitherto unoccupied sites within three miles 
 of any of the city gates. The same proclamation 
 forbade more than one family to live together in 
 the same house. The noble persons were fast re- 
 moving their mansions to new locations without 
 the walls, and the last mentioned provision of the 
 above proclamation was directed against the popu- 
 lar custom of turning the abandoned mansions into 
 tenement houses, crowded and filthy fosterers of 
 the plague. The reason given for this proclama- 
 tion and some others of a similar nature, which, 
 however, were frequently violated, was to prevent 
 the danger arising from disease and disorder, both 
 important factors in the Elizabethan life ; but there 
 can be but little doubt that under the surface of 
 these building regulations lay a substantial jeal- 
 ousy, if not an actual fear, of the rapidly growing 
 wealth and power of the city corporation. 
 
 Within the area bounded by the old wall the 
 city was divided by a few grand thoroughfares, 
 but, for the most part, by narrow and filthy streets. 
 
GENERAL VIEW OF LONDON 71 
 
 They were dark and dingy from the projecting 
 upper stories of the gabled houses that shut out 
 most of the light, and dirty under foot, while one 
 in passing was not infrequently deluged with the 
 house-maid's slops from an upper window. Most 
 of the streets were poorly paved, or not at all, with 
 a kennel half full of stagnant water in the centre. 
 Sometimes there was no specially prepared foot- 
 way ; often such a convenience was little more than 
 indicated by a low line of posts. The public 
 streets were made the dumping grounds for all 
 sorts of rubbish. Scalding Alley owned its name to 
 the habit of scalding chickens there for sale in the 
 neighbouring market of the Poultry. So little 
 was the value of correct sanitation known that as 
 late as 1647 the following permission is recorded 
 in the official reports of the Royal Hospital : " No 
 man shall cast urine or ordure in the streets afore 
 the hour of nine in the night. Also he shall not 
 cast it out but bring it down and lay it in the 
 channel." It is not to be wondered at that the 
 people often encountered the blue cross on a door- 
 post, the sign of plague, or that statutes required 
 every householder to build a fire opposite his house 
 three times a week in order to purge the atmos- 
 phere. 
 
 The houses that lined these streets were of vari- 
 ous kinds. There were still standing many of the 
 
72 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 fine old mansions of tlie nobility that retained the 
 appearance, though no longer the reality, of stone 
 fortifications. One of the finest of these still 
 remains in part — Crosby Hall. The houses of 
 contemporary build were usually of brick and 
 timber, eked out with lath and plaster, and con- 
 structed on a less pretentious scale. The wood 
 work of the fronts was often grotesquely carved 
 and painted, and the roof usually gabled towards 
 the street, as is still to be seen in the Staple 
 Inn. 
 
 The windows were generally composed of small 
 panes of glass imbedded in lead, and opening case- 
 ment-wise; while each story of the house projected 
 several feet beyond the line of the story belowi 
 Often a street of fair width on the ground showed 
 but a narrow sky line above, the house fronts being 
 so close together that people could shake hands 
 across the space. In addition, shop-keepers often 
 built pent-houses against their lower walls for the 
 display of goods, thus encroaching still further 
 upon the narrow passage. 
 
 One is particularly struck by three details in 
 
 connection with the houses of old London: (1) The 
 
 number of churches, to which allusion has already 
 
 1 been made. (2) The frequency of taverns. It 
 
 '"■ would be useless to attempt to catalogue the city 
 
 taverns. Besides the scores that are famous, there 
 
GENERAL VIEW OF LONDON 73 
 
 were other scores and scores. Often and often 
 Stow finishes the description of an unimportant 
 street with the words, " containing many fair 
 houses and divers taverns." (3) The proximity of 
 shops of the same nature. Until quite recently 
 Holywell Street, Strand, presented an aspect typi- 
 cal of EHzabethan London. Both sides of the 
 street were lined with the shops of petty dealers 
 in second-hand books, one adjoining the other 
 throughout the whole length of the street. In 
 Elizabethan times this custom was carried out over 
 the whole city. Thus the pin makers were upon 
 London Bridge, the apothecaries in Bucklesbury, 
 the goldsmiths in Cheapside, etc. Only the ubiq- 
 uitous tavern possessed no local habitation. 
 
 Then as now the smaller streets were named in 
 connection with their proximity to larger streets. 
 As there were no numbers in use, each house 
 was indicated by a sign, and much ingenuity was 
 required to diversify them. These signs were 
 occasionally painted upon the house fronts, or 
 carved in the stonework ; but more commonly they 
 hung out over the street, suspended from elaborate 
 wrought-iron brackets. Originally a sign had 
 indicated an individual shop-keeper's trade, but, 
 just as the number of a house remains to-day 
 unchanged with change of occupant, so the Eliza- 
 bethan sign was generally permanent. Thus came 
 
74 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 about the state of affairs that Addison ridicules in 
 The Spectator. 
 
 "I would enjoin every shop-keeper to make use 
 of a sign that bears some afHnity to the wares in 
 which he deals. A cook should not live at the 
 ' Boot,' nor a shoe-maker at ' The Roasted Pig,' 
 and yet for want of this regulation I have seen a 
 goat set up before the door of a perfumer and 
 the French King's head before a sword cutter's." 
 
 The streets of London were poorly lighted at 
 night, or not at all. Various acts provided that 
 householders should at regular intervals hang out 
 lanterns ; but these lanterns did little or no good, 
 for they were only horn boxes containing a dim 
 candle. Even so, the acts were seldom obeyed, and 
 one of the common street cries was that of the 
 watchman reminding a delinquent householder 
 that his lantern was not in place. 
 
 The watchman, who was, too often, not at all 
 unlike Dogberry and his companions, went his 
 rounds armed with a huge halberd, and was about 
 as useless for the preservation of order as the 
 numerous " Statutes for Streets," which among 
 other things forbade persons to cry out at night, 
 to blow a horn after nine o'clock, to whistle, to 
 cause a disturbance, or to do a thousand and one 
 other necessary acts. From time to time special 
 attempts were made to improve the efficiency of 
 
GENERAL VIEW OF LONDON 75 
 
 the police, especially in regard to the arrest of 
 " sturdy beggars," the pest of Elizabethan Lon- 
 don. But, do what they could, the fact remained 
 that one always wore his side arms for protection, 
 and took his life in his hands, when he stirred 
 abroad after nightfall. 
 
 In connection with the streets of London one 
 might mention the water-supply of the city, since 
 so great a part of it was drawn from the public 
 conduits in the streets. Till the thirteenth cen- 
 tury London depended for its water supply wholly 
 upon the neighbouring brooks and springs and 
 upon the Thames. With the growth of the city, 
 however, the smaller streams became polluted and, 
 in 1236, the citizens were given permission to 
 convey water in pipes from Tyburn to Cheapside. 
 In 1285 was commenced the great lead-lined cistern 
 with a castellated structure over it that was known 
 as the Great Conduit in Cheap, to which the water 
 was conveyed a distance of three and a half miles. 
 
 The conduits in Cheapside are described else- 
 where in the present volume. There were in and 
 about London many springs and wells that were 
 turned to account in serving other conduits ; 
 and there was also a system of pipes supplied 
 by a pump under London Bridge. Besides the 
 conduits in Cheapside, the principal conduits 
 throughout the city were as follows : the Tun upon 
 
76 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 Cornhill, the conduit in Aldermanbury, the Stan- 
 dard in Fleet Street, the Standard without Crip- 
 plegate, the conduit in Gracechurch Street, the 
 conduit at Holborn Cross, the Little Conduit at 
 the Stocks Market, the conduit at Bishopsgate, 
 the conduit in London Wall opposite Coleman 
 Street, the conduit without Aldgate, the conduit 
 in Lothbury, and the conduit in Dowgate. 
 
 An annual custom in connection with the con- 
 duits is thus described by Stow : " And particu- 
 larly on the 18th of September, 1562, the Lord 
 Mayor and others . . . rid to the conduit 
 heads for to see them after the old custom (of 
 annual inspection), and after dinner they hunted 
 the hare and killed her, and thence to dinner at the 
 head of the conduit . . . and after dinner they 
 went hunting the fox." 
 
 The vehicles encountered in the streets were 
 mostly the carts of costermongers, still more 
 clumsy wagons, men on horse-back, chairs and 
 coaches. The latter, however, were of infrequent 
 use, having been but recently introduced. It was 
 considered so effeminate as to be almost a disgrace 
 for a man to be seen riding in a coach, unless it 
 were the occasion of some civic or royal ceremony. 
 
 Stow in many places expresses his heartfelt 
 enthusiasm for the city, such enthusiasm as a 
 native Londoner born within sound of Bow Bells 
 
GENERAL VIEW OF LONDON 77 
 
 would feel. Elsewhere, however, the same Stow 
 bewails the following state of affairs in the streets 
 of his native city: 
 
 " But now in our time, instead of these enor- 
 mities, others are come in place no less meet to be 
 reformed, namely, purprestures, or encroachments 
 on the highways, lanes, and common grounds, in 
 and about this city ; whereof a learned gentleman 
 and grave citizen hath not many years since 
 written and exhibited a book to the mayor and 
 commonalty ; which book whether the same have 
 been read by them and diligently considered upon, 
 I know not, but sure I am nothing is reformed 
 since concerning this matter. 
 
 "Then the number of cars, drays, carts, and 
 coaches, more than hath been accustomed, the 
 streets and lanes being straightened, must needs 
 be dangerous, as daily experience proveth. 
 
 " The coachman rides behind the horse tails, 
 lasheth them, and looketh not behind him; the 
 drayman sitteth and sleepeth on his dray, and 
 letteth his horse lead him home. I know that, by 
 the good laws and customs of this city, shodded 
 carts are forbidden to enter the same, except upon 
 reasonable cause, as service of the prince, or such 
 like, they be tolerated. Also that the fore horse 
 of every carriage should be led by hand ; but these 
 good orders are not observed. Of old time coaches 
 
78 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 were not known in this island, but chariots or 
 whirlicotes, then so called, and they only used of 
 princes or great estates, such as had their footmen 
 about them ; . . . but now of late years the use 
 of coaches, brought out of Germany, is taken up, 
 and made so common, as there is neither distinction 
 of time nor difference of persons observed ; for the 
 world runs on wheels with many whose parents 
 were glad to go on foot." 
 
 The close crowding of the city and the timber 
 framework of the buildings gave rise to the two 
 great dangers of the Elizabethan city: fire and 
 plague. People are prone to think of the great 
 plague which DeFoe described as the only plague 
 to which the metropolis has been subjected; but, 
 as a matter of fact, this dread disease visited the 
 city about once in thirty years. It was not an 
 uncommon happening to have the court moved 
 Inland because of the danger of infection, and it 
 furnished the cause of many of the brief closures 
 of the theatres long before the Puritans carried 
 their way on moral grounds. Camden asserts 
 that in 1563 there were 21,530 deaths from plague 
 in London alone. 
 
 The streets of Elizabethan London were prover- 
 bially noisy, not only from the busy, jostling 
 traffic, but also from the innumerable street cries 
 heard upon every hand. It was the custom for 
 
GENERAL VIEW OF LONDON 79 
 
 an apprentice to stand in the door of his master's 
 shop and to solicit trade of the passers-by with 
 the cry of "What do you lack?" A foreigner, 
 who was likely to be ridiculed by the common 
 people wherever he was met in those days, or any 
 other person who examined articles without making 
 a purchase, was liable to the sarcastic chaff of 
 the disappointed 'prentice; and if the customer 
 answered impudently he was Ukely to have the 
 whole brotherhood down upon liim with their clubs 
 in a trice. Sir Walter Scott in The Fortunes of 
 Nigel has given an excellent picture of the Eliza- 
 bethan shop, the rude behaviour of the apprentices, 
 and a subsequent riot. 
 
 In the days of Elizabeth they declare by act of 
 common council that in ancient times the lanes of 
 the open city have been used and of right ought 
 to be used as the common highway only, and not 
 for hucksters, pedlars, and hagglers to stand or to 
 sell their wares in, and to pass from street to street, 
 hawking and offering their wares. The preventive 
 acts of Elizabeth, however, chiefly illustrate the 
 abuses in fuU operation notwithstanding the -sdo- 
 lation of the law; hence we are not surprised to 
 find a number of forbidden street cries alluded to 
 in the old plays, among which are the following: 
 "Old clothes, any old clothes" — "Buy, sell, or 
 exchange, hats, caps, etc." — "Any kitchen stuffs, 
 
80 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 have ye, maids " — (the latter was the cry of those 
 who collected refuse for the manufacture of soap 
 and candles). "Ballads, Almanacks," was the 
 frequent cry of the itinerant book-seller. Hey- 
 wood, in The Rape of Lucrece, under the head of 
 cries of Rome, gives a series of amusing illustra- 
 tions of the London cries of his own day. Many 
 others are to be found in the second act of Bar- 
 tholomew Fair. Suffice it to say here that they 
 were of innumerable variety, representing nearly 
 every trade imaginable, and were heard like a 
 constant chorus in the streets. 
 
 The principal thoroughfares of London were as 
 follows: (1) From Newgate, across the city by 
 Cheapside to Aldgate. (2) From Bishopsgate, 
 south by London Bridge to the Surrey Side. These 
 were the only thoroughfares that crossed the city 
 completely. (3) From Ludgate to the Tower by 
 way of Candlewick Street, interrupted, however, 
 by the necessity of going through or around the 
 churchyard of St. Paul's. (4) Thames Street, that 
 ran parallel to the river from Blackfriars to the 
 Tower. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 OLD SAINT PAUL'S 
 
 T I iHE cathedral that met the eyes of the old 
 -^ Dutch traveller Hentzner towards the close of 
 Elizabethan times was far different from the mod- 
 em pile upon the same site, and far more mag- 
 nificent as a piece of architecture. The ancient 
 church was, in fact, the largest and most splendid 
 cathedral in England. It had been long in build- 
 ing, and gave evidence of the many architectural 
 styles that had obtained at one time and another 
 since its origin; yet the different parts suited one 
 another most harmoniously. 
 
 It was, however, essentially of two styles. The 
 nave was Norman and the choir Early Decorated. 
 It is not the purpose of this chapter to describe in 
 detail the architecture of the old structure, inas- 
 much as the most careful drawings of the original 
 building are now readily accessible, but rather to 
 describe the customs and traditions that character- 
 ised it during the time of Ehzabeth. 
 
 The cathedral stood in the centre of a church- 
 yard that was surmounted by a wall, and occupied 
 the area between Paternoster Row on the north. 
 Old Change on the east. Carter Lane on the south, 
 
 81 
 
82 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 and Creed and Ave Maria Lanes on the west. Pa- 
 ternoster Row took its name from the paternoster 
 or bead makers who used to dwell there of old time. 
 Old Change derived its name from a former ex- 
 change for coinage of bullion that of old time stood 
 upon the east side of the street. Carters from all 
 parts of the kingdom resorted to the numerous 
 taverns on Carter Lane, and text writers gave 
 names to Creed and Ave Maria Lanes. 
 
 In the churchyard wall were six gates. The 
 principal entrance was near the north end of Creed 
 Lane, and formed part of the passage from Lud- 
 gate along Bowyer Row to the west front of the 
 cathedral. Of the three gates in the north wall 
 one opened into Paternoster Row by Paul's Alley, 
 one by Canon Alley, and the third, known as the 
 Little Gate, opened into Cheapside not far from 
 the present statue of Sir Robert Peel. The Saint 
 Augustine Gate was on the east side opposite Wat- 
 ling Street, said to be the oldest thoroughfare in 
 London. The sixth gate was on the south side 
 leading into Paul's Chain, a narrow alley that led 
 south across Thames Street to the river at St. Paul's 
 Wharf. It derived its name from the old prac- 
 tice of drawing a chain across the street to hinder 
 traffic during the hours of divine worship in the 
 cathedral. 
 
 There were numerous buildings in and about 
 
OLD S AINT PAUL'S 83 
 
 the enclosure. At the northwest corner stood the 
 Bishop's palace. On the north were the college 
 "of petty canons, numerous small chapels, and the 
 charnel house. The most famous structure of the 
 northern precinct was Pardon Churchyard, which, 
 though demolished shortly before the accession of 
 Elizabeth, still lingered so distinctly in the neigh- 
 bourhood memory of the people that it is worth 
 while to quote its description by Stow. 
 
 " There is also one great cloister on the north 
 side of this church, environing a plot of ground, 
 of old time called Pardon Churchyard; whereof 
 Thomas More was either the first builder, or a most 
 special benefactor, and was buried there. About 
 this cloister was artificially and richly painted the 
 Dance of Machabray, or Dance of Death, com- 
 monly called the Dance of Paul's ; the like whereof 
 was painted about St. Innocent's cloister at Paris 
 in France. The metres or poesy of this dance 
 were translated out of the French into English 
 by John Lydgate, monk of Bury, and with the 
 picture of death leading all estates, painted about 
 the cloister, at the special request and at the dis- 
 pence of John Carpenter in the reign of Henry 
 VI. In this cloister were buried many persons, 
 some of worship and others of honour; the monu- 
 ments of whom in number and curious workman- 
 ship, passed all others that were in the church. 
 
84. SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 " Over the east quadrant of this cloister was a 
 fair library, built at the cost and charges of Wal- 
 ter Sherington, chancellor of the Duchy of Lan- 
 caster in the reign of Henry VI., which hath been 
 well furnished with fair written books in vellum, 
 but few of them do remain there. In the midst of 
 this Pardon Churchyard was a fair chapel, first 
 founded by Gilbert Becket, portgrave and prin- 
 cipal magistrate of this city in the reign of King 
 Stephen, who was there buried. 
 
 " Thomas More, the Dean of Paul's before men- 
 tioned, re-edified or new built this chapel, and 
 founded three chaplains there, in the reign of 
 Henry V. 
 
 "In the year 1549, on the 10th of April, the 
 said chapel, by commandment of the Duke of Som- 
 erset, was begun to be pulled down, with the whole 
 cloister, the Dance of Death, the tombs and monu- 
 ments, so that nothing thereof was left but the 
 bare plot of ground which is since converted into a 
 garden for the petty canons." 
 
 To the northeast stood Paul's Cross, where open 
 air sermons were preached on the forenoon of Sun- 
 days unless dispensed with for some especial rea- 
 son. On the east side of the churchyard was 
 Paul's School, founded in 1512 by Dean Colet for 
 153 poor men's children. Its foundation is thus 
 described by Erasmus : 
 
Paul's Cross 
 (From an engraving by Wilkinson) 
 
OLD SAINT PAUL'S 85 
 
 " Upon the death of the father of Colet, when 
 by right of inheritance he was possessed of a con- 
 siderable sum of money, lest the keeping of it 
 should corrupt his mind and turn it too much to 
 the world, he laid out a great part of it in build- 
 ing a new school in the churchyard of St. Paul, 
 dedicated to the Child Jesus ; a magnificent f abrick 
 to which he added two handsome dwelling houses 
 for the two several masters, to whom he assigned 
 ample salaries, that they might teach a certain 
 number of boys gratuitously. He divided the 
 school into four apartments. The first is the porch 
 or entrance for Catechumens (or children to be 
 instructed in the principles of religion), and no child 
 is admitted there unless he can already read and 
 write. The second apartment is for lower boys who 
 are taught by the Hypodidasculus (or usher). The 
 third is for those who are more learned (under the 
 head master), which former parts of the school are 
 divided from the other by a curtain which can be 
 drawn or undrawn at pleasure. Over the master's 
 chair is seated a figure of the Child Jesus, of excel- 
 lent work, in the act of teaching; whom all the 
 assembly, both at coming in and going out of the 
 school, salute with a short hymn. There is also a 
 representation of God the Father, saying : ' Hear 
 ye him,' but these words were written there at my 
 recommendation. The last apartment is a little 
 
86 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 chapel adopted to divine service. Throughout the 
 school are neither corners nor hiding places, nor 
 anything like a cell or closet. The boys have each 
 their distinct forms or benches, rising in regular 
 gradients and spaces one over another. Of these 
 every class contains sixteen, and he who is most 
 excellent in his class has a kind of small desk by 
 way of eminence. All children are not to be ad- 
 mitted as a matter of course, but to be selected 
 according to their parts and capacities. The most 
 sagacious founder saw that the greatest hopes and 
 happiness of the commonwealth was in the train- 
 ing up of children to good letters and true religion ; 
 for which purpose he laid out a great sum of 
 money, and yet would not admit anyone to a share 
 in the expense. . . . When he had finished 
 all his arrangements he left the perpetual care and 
 government of the establishment, not to the clergy, 
 not to the bishop, not to the chapter, as it is called, 
 nor to nobles — but to certain married citizens of 
 honest report. On being asked the reason for it 
 he replied that there was no absolute certainty in 
 human affairs, but that he found these persons to 
 be the least corruptible." 
 
 Just why Colet left the government of his school 
 to married citizens is explained by Fuller : " It 
 may seem false Latin that this Colet, being Dean 
 of Paul's, the school dedicated to St. Paul, and 
 

OLD SAI NT PAUL'S 87 
 
 distanced but the breadth of a street from St. 
 Paul's Church, should not intrust it to the inspec- 
 tion of his successors, the Dean and Chapter of 
 Saint Paul's, but committed it to the care of the 
 Company of Mercers for the managing thereof 
 who [Colet] had found by experience 
 many laymen as conscientious as clergymen in dis- 
 charging this trust in this kind; conceiving also 
 that a whole company was not so easily to be 
 bowed to corruption as any single person, how 
 eminent and public soever." 
 
 Lilly, the grammarian and friend of Erasmus,! 
 was the first head master of the school, and the' 
 grammar that he compiled of the Latin language 
 is still in use. Among the eminent sixteenth cen- 
 tury scholars that were educated at St. Paul's were 
 John Leland, the earliest English antiquary; Sir 
 Anthony Denny, William Whittaker, and William 
 Camden, the author of the Britannia. 
 
 To return to the buildings in the churchyard. 
 North of Colet's school and not far from the pulpit 
 cross stood the bell tower that was used by the 
 Jesus Chapel and by the church of St. Faith, both 
 structures underneath the cathedral. In the angle 
 south of the nave and west of the south transept 
 stood the cloister, notable for having a double am- 
 bulatory, one walk above the other. In the centre 
 of the cloister yard was one of the most beautiful 
 
88 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 chapter houses of the olden time. It was indeed 
 small — but 32 feet 6 inches internal diameter — ^but 
 carved and proportioned with extreme delicacy and 
 grace. The parish church of St. Gregory stood 
 south of the nave at its western extremity, built 
 quite against the wall of the cathedral. It was 
 then a not uncommon custom for a parish church 
 to be built in close proximity to the cathedral, as 
 may be seen to-day in St. Margaret's next to West- 
 minster Abbey ; but there seems to be no other in- 
 stance of a parish church built directly against, as 
 if part of, the mother structure. 
 
 Perhaps the most remarkable adjunct to the 
 cathedral was what was commonly referred to as 
 St. Faith's under St. Paul's, which served mainly 
 as a place of worship for the stationers who dwelt 
 in the neighbourhood and carried on their business 
 within the cathedral grounds. It was a sort of 
 crypt under the choir and next to the Jesus Chapel, 
 both of which used the bells of the tower in the 
 cathedral yard. 
 
 The uninformed reader who for the first time 
 turns over the pages of Every Man Out of His 
 Humour is likely to ask the question: For what 
 was Saint Paul's used.'' The answer is brief and 
 in two words: for various purposes and for reli- 
 gion. The reason for the apparent inversion of 
 the proper order of these two details will presently 
 
"a 
 
 m 
 
 •< 
 
 41 
 
 \ 
 
 ^''"^^iw 
 
 A 
 
 ^''i' 
 
 <BUi 
 
 V A 
 
 m 
 
 M 
 
 m. 
 
 m 
 
 
 wm 
 
 HM^ 
 
 ^-WSM^ 
 
 J^-g 
 
 ^* 
 
 •y'-^m'imiKMumi.mM/m'm 
 
 Choir or St. Paul's 
 (From an etching by Hollar) 
 
OLD SAINT PAUL'S 89 
 
 appear. The desecration of the cathedral during 
 the sixteenth century forms one of the darkest 
 pages of its annals. Not only was the surround- 
 ing churchyard within the walls given up to buy- 
 ing and selling, to lotteries, and even to the pubhc 
 execution of criminals, but the interior of the very 
 nave itself became a centre of vice, the city club, 
 so to speak, the resort of every form of influence 
 that was wicked and ungodly. During the joint 
 reign of Philip and Mary, when Catholicism was 
 the established religion of the realm, an act was 
 passed whose purpose it was to diminish this dese- 
 cration. It complained of them who make "their 
 common carriage of great vessels of ale or beer, 
 great baskets full of bread, fish, flesh, and fruit, 
 fardels of stufi^, and other gross wares, through the 
 cathedral church of St. Paul's, and some in leading 
 mules, horses, and other beasts irreverently and to 
 the great dishonour and displeasure of Almighty 
 God." 
 
 This act was fruitful of good results in so far 
 as it is probable that horses and mules were hence- 
 forth excluded from the nave and transepts; but 
 that in the main it failed of its intent is certain 
 from the fact that the following proclamation was 
 issued during the Protestant reign of Elizabeth : 
 
 "If any person shall make any fray, or draw 
 or put out his hand to any weapon for that pur- 
 
90 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 pose, or shoot any hand gun or dagge, within the 
 cathedral church of Saint Paul or churchyard 
 thereto adj oining, or within the limits of the bound- 
 aries composing the same, they shall suffer impris- 
 onment for two months. Any of Her Majesty's 
 subjects who shall walk up or down, or spend the 
 time in the same, in making any bargain or other 
 profane cause, or make any kind of disturbance 
 during the time of divine service, shall incur the 
 pain of imprisonment and fine, the fine to go to 
 the repair of the church." 
 
 Elizabeth's threats, however, turned out to be 
 idle thunder. The desecration not only continued, 
 but also vastly increased, though the iniquity was 
 inveighed against by all the reformers, and also 
 held up to ridicule upon the public stage. 
 
 " The characters," says Milman, " which old 
 Ben [Jonson], though a coarse not usually irrev- 
 erent writer, scruples not to assemble in the church 
 is the most vivid illustration to which the abuse had 
 grown ; nor does this comedy so far as I can trace 
 appear to have given any offence." 
 
 Let us look for a moment more closely into the 
 details of this malpractice. The passage from 
 north to south through the body of the cathedral 
 by the transepts had become little more than a 
 common alley across the holy precincts. The mid- 
 dle aisle of the nave, which was thrown open to the 
 
OLD SAINT PAUL'S 91 
 
 same usages, was familiarly known as Paul's Walk, 
 and gave rise to the term, a Paul's man, meaning 
 one of the dissolute roisterers about town. Here 
 came every day between the hours of eleven and 
 one the city gallants to take a few turns up and 
 down in order to gossip, meet a friend or vainly 
 exhibit their new clothes ; or, perchance, to pick 
 quarrels and draw the ever-ready sword in viola- 
 tion of the royal proclamation. Assignations with 
 lewd women were more frequently made in Paul's 
 Walk than in any other part of London save in 
 the Bankside Stews. It was the Elizabethan Bur- 
 lington Arcade par excellence. The foot of each 
 great column of the nave was turned to its partic- 
 ular use. About one lawyers knelt, writing upon 
 knee as they took notes of a client's case. About 
 another men and boys stood waiting for hire as 
 they did at a country fair upon quarter day. This 
 one and that one was each given up in a well un- 
 derstood way to a different profession. Tailors 
 stood behind one to take note of the newest fash- 
 ions, or to display samples of cloth, lace, and gold 
 points ; while about and among the crowd went all 
 sorts of petty hawkers, crying out their wares in 
 shrill voices among the echoing arches of the 
 church. 
 
 Perhaps the greatest desecration of all was the 
 fact that this is only half the story. Had the 
 
92 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 cathedral been wholly abandoned to such purposes 
 it would not seem half so bad. It is possible to 
 understand the spirit that would turn a noble rem- 
 nant of the Catholic faith into a stable for Puritan 
 horses; but it is much more difficult to understand 
 how the scenes already described could be carried 
 on within eye- and ear-shot of the holy service 
 actually being performed simultaneously. Yet 
 this condition of affairs was common, the every-day 
 occurrence, for pubHc worship was carried on with 
 all the devotion of to-day, and more. If a man 
 entered the choir from the Walk with his spurs on 
 spur-money was demanded of him, partly as a fine, 
 partly as a joke to relieve the serious tone of wor- 
 ship. It was the choristers' privilege to collect it, 
 and one of the good contemporary sports was to 
 heat the pennies paid as tribute so that the choir 
 boys would cry out and interrupt the service. Fur- 
 thermore, houses were commonly built against the 
 outer walls, not at St. Paul's alone, however ; it was 
 the common custom about any church of size. 
 There is a tradition that one of these was even 
 used as a play-house. Perhaps the tradition is not 
 true, having grown out of the custom of the choir 
 boys performing plays at the chapter house; but 
 it is not inconsistent with the customs of the time. 
 For a small fee the bellman used to allow boys to 
 climb the bell tower in the yard for the purpose 
 
OLD SAINT PAUL'S 93 
 
 of dropping things upon the head of passers 
 below. 
 
 The first lottery in England of which there is 
 any record was held in the open space of the 
 churchyard about the cathedral in 1569. There 
 were 400,000 ten shilHng lots, and a pardonable 
 aspect was given by authority to the whole affair 
 by applying the proceeds to the patriotic purpose 
 of repairing the harbours throughout the kingdom. 
 There was another great lottery held in 1586, and 
 another in 1612, and many later, some of which 
 were auctioned within the church ijself. The 
 Losely Manuscripts give a very circumstantial ac- 
 count of the first one, which is curious and inter- 
 esting for its light upon social customs. 
 
 The greatest and most excellent prize was esti- 
 mated at 5000 pounds, of which 3000 pounds 
 were to be paid to the lucky adventurer in cash, 
 700 pounds in plate, the remainder in hangings 
 and linen cloth. The lots, however, were some- 
 what tardily disposed of, and the lottery was not 
 " read," as the saying was, till January 11, 1568-9 ; 
 when the reading took place in a building erected 
 for the purpose just outside the door of the cathe- 
 dral. The reading continued day and night tiU 
 the following May. Though the price of each lot 
 was ten shilKngs, a lot was often divided into 
 shares, and sometimes as many as ten clubbed to- 
 
94 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 gether to make a single share. Great pains were 
 taken, it will be seen, by the government to " pro- 
 voke " the people to adventure their money in this 
 voluntary mode of taxation. 
 
 The lottery was announced to the public by a 
 chart printed for the most part in black letter. It 
 was a long and narrow handbill with the royal 
 arms at the top, the city of London, a picture of 
 the cathedral to make it more respectable, and rep- 
 resentations of the prizes of plate that were on ex- 
 hibition at a shop in Cheapside. Then followed 
 numerous directions about the apportionment of 
 lots and other necessary details for the information 
 of a greedy public as eager to get rich in those 
 days as in ours. 
 
 " A very rich lottery general," it begins, " with- 
 out any blanks, containing a great number of good 
 prizes as well of ready money as of plate, and 
 certain sorts of merchandises, having been valued 
 and priced by the commandment of the Queen's 
 most excellent majesty, by men expert and skilful; 
 and the same lottery is erected by her majesty's 
 order, to the intent that such commodity as may 
 chance to arise thereof, after the charges borne, 
 may be converted towards the reparation of the 
 havens and strength of the realm, and towards 
 such other public good works." 
 
 Then follows a list of the prizes. The first has 
 
OLD SAINT PAU L'S 95 
 
 already been mentioned. The second was 2000 
 pounds in money, 600 pounds in plate, the rest in 
 hangings. The thirteenth prize was 140 pounds, 
 part money, part plate, and tapestry. Then fol- 
 lowed 12 prizes of 100 pounds ; M of 50 pounds ; 
 64 of 25 pounds ; and so on, increasing in numbers 
 as they decreased in size tiU we find 9418 prizes of 
 14 shillings in money; and then, "all the rest to 
 the accomplishing of the aforesaid number of 
 lottes, shall be allowed for every adventure at 
 the least two shillings and six pens in ready 
 money." 
 
 The chart sets forth all sorts of extra induce- 
 ments. Persons may resort to the lottery agents 
 in various towns for " seven whole days, without 
 any molestation or arrest of them for any manner 
 of offence, saving treason, murder, pyracie, or any 
 other felony, or for breach of her majesty's peace, 
 during the time of their coming, abiding, or re- 
 turn." Extra prizes were allowed to those who 
 took above a certain number of shares, or to those 
 whose tickets were read out three, four, five, or 
 more in succession. 
 
 Lots, however, were not taken up with sufficient 
 rapidity. On January 3 appeared a royal proc- 
 lamation that began : " Whereas in the chart of the 
 lottery lately erected amongst other things devised 
 for the advantage of the adventurers, there was a 
 
96 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 limitation of three months within the compas 
 whereof, whoso adventured money into the said 
 Lotterie, should be partakers of divers profits and 
 advantages more than others that should adven- 
 ture their money after the said three months ended 
 for divers reasons her majesty is pleased 
 that the advantage of the said three months now 
 expired shall be enlarged and prorogued to aU 
 manner of persons that have or shall adventure 
 their money into the said Lottery, for three months 
 longer, etc." The proclamation further informs 
 the public that in case of any adventurer's death 
 before the reading of the lottery his prize, if he 
 draw one, shall go to his heirs. It is needless to 
 particularise further as to the correspondence that 
 followed, save to say that every inducement was 
 made to persuade people to venture in the lottery, 
 and that the list was not made up soon enough to 
 enable the reading to begin before January 11. 
 Each man when he put in his lot put in a posy 
 or verse that was publicly read or proclaimed 
 at the drawing, hence the term " reading the 
 lottery." 
 
 So much for this unusual purpose to which the 
 cathedral was put. Perhaps the worst desecration 
 of all to which St. Paul's was ever subjected was 
 the use of its precincts as a place of public execu- 
 tion. John Felton, who posted the bull of Eliza- 
 
OLD SAINT PAUL'S 97 
 
 beth's excommunication upon the door of the 
 Bishop of London's palace, was hanged on a gal- 
 lows set up in front of the said palace. On Jan- 
 uary 30, 1606, some of the Gunpowder conspira- 
 tors were executed, and, later, the celebrated Jesuit 
 intriguer. Father Garnet. The tale is pitiful of 
 how he was given opportunity to speak to the 
 people, after which he asked for leave to pray and 
 how long they would allow him. They told him that 
 he might pray as long as he wished. " But," says 
 an eye-witness, " he was so excited, either by the 
 fear of death or the hope of pardon that he could 
 not pray, but kept looking constantly in every 
 direction, but could not compose himself to 
 prayer." Indeed, as we read his last exhortation 
 and hope " that the Catholics may not fare worse 
 for my sake," we may well wonder what he thought 
 of the new religion that made such use of the 
 cathedral house of God. 
 
 A characteristic feature of the life about St. 
 Paul's was the bookshops and stationers' stalls 
 that thronged the churchyard more thickly than 
 any other part of the city. Mr. Arber has fur- 
 nished a careful list of booksellers and printers in 
 London between 1556 and 1558. For the former 
 year he lists thirty-two, of whom fifteen lived in 
 Paul's churchyard, and five in the immediate neigh- 
 bourhood. John Kingston had his shop at the 
 
98 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 west door. Richard Jugge built against the north 
 door and marked his house by the sign of the 
 Bible. This Jugge was a famous printer who had 
 been educated at Eton and Cambridge. Over sev- 
 enty books bear his imprint, most of which are 
 Bibles of remarkably fine press-work, especially 
 noted for the elaborate initial letters. In January, 
 1550, he received from the government the sole 
 licence to print New Testaments in English. On 
 the accession of Elizabeth he was joined by John 
 Cawood as queen's printer at a salary of six pounds, 
 thirteen shillings, and four pence per annum. 
 
 The widow Toy kept her shop at the Bell in the 
 churchyard; Henry Sutton at the Black Boy; 
 Reginald Wolfe at the Brazen Serpent; John 
 Turk at the Cock ; and William Seres at the Hedge- 
 hog. The list is too long for insertion here ; but 
 to this menagerie might be added the Lamb, the 
 Red Lion, the Swan, and the White Horse, all of 
 which had stalls about the cathedral. Enough has 
 been said to suggest how the book trade monopo- 
 lised the vicinity. And it was a busy monopoly, 
 for in those days placards were as frequent as to- 
 day, people also lounged and gossipped in the book 
 shops, and even managed occasionally to read a 
 book through, and thus save the purchase price, by 
 successive peeps on different days. 
 
 " To dine with Duke Humphrey " was a prover- 
 
OLD SAINT PAUL'S 99 
 
 bial expression of the day that came into existence 
 through a curious custom connected with St. Paul's. 
 One who had dined with the duke had in reality 
 gone without his dinner. At the foot of the second 
 column of the northeast corner of the nave stood 
 the tomb of Sir John Beauchamp, constable of 
 Dover Castle and son of Guy Beauchamp, some- 
 time Earl of Warwick. Through popular misin- 
 formation this tomb was believed by the common 
 people to be that of the good Duke Humphrey of 
 Gloucester. Before this tomb it was the custom 
 for penniless men to walk up and down in the hope 
 of catching sight of some kind-hearted and liberal 
 friend with a ready invitation to dine. And when, 
 as often happened, the expectant sponge went 
 hungry he was said to have dined with Duke 
 Humphrey. 
 
 Strype thus describes another custom in connec- 
 tion with the same tomb : " He is by ignorant people 
 misnamed to be Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, 
 who lieth honourably buried at St. Albans, twenty 
 miles from London. And therefore such as mer- 
 rily profess themselves to serve Duke Humphrey 
 are to be punished here and sent to St. Albans to 
 be punished again for their absence from their 
 master as they call him. 
 
 "In idle and frivolous opinion of whom some 
 men of late time have made a solemn meeting at 
 
100 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 his tomb upon St. Andrew's day in the morning 
 (before Christmas), and concluded on a breakfast 
 or dinner, as assuring themselves to be servants, 
 and to hold diversity of offices under the good Duke 
 Humphrey. 
 
 "Likewise upon May Day tankard bearers, wa- 
 termen, and some others of like quality besides, 
 would use to come to the same tomb early in the 
 morning and (according as the other) have deKv- 
 ered serviceable presentation at the same monu- 
 ment by strewing herbs and sprinkling fair water 
 on it, as in the duty of servants, and according to 
 their degrees and charges in office. But as Master 
 Stow has discreetly advised such as are so merrily 
 disposed, or simply profess themselves to serve 
 Duke Humphrey in Paul's, if punishment of losing 
 their dinners there daily be not sufficient for them, 
 they should be sent to St. Albans, to answer there 
 for their disobedience and long absence from their 
 so highly well deserving lord and master, because 
 in their merry disposition they please so to call 
 him." 
 
 In the northeast corner of the churchyard stood 
 the famous pulpit structure known as Paul's Cross. 
 It was a cross of timber mounted upon stone steps 
 and surmounted by a conical roof of lead. It was 
 the place whence government delivered its public 
 sayings. The whole battle of the Reformation 
 
OLD SAINT PAUL'S 101 
 
 was fought over in little from this oracle, as weU as 
 the later contest between the Reformed Faith and 
 Papacy on the one hand and stiff-necked Puritans 
 on the other. The questions were submitted to the 
 public by a series of divines, the list of which con- 
 tains the names of all those most famous in the 
 annals of church history. Ridley, Latimer, Far- 
 rer, Gardiner, Bonner, Coverdale, Sandys, Jewel, 
 Grindel, PiDcington, and Laud, not to speak of a 
 host of other scarcely less famous men, have up- 
 held their various faiths from the open air pulpit 
 of Paul's Cross. Before it Bishop Stokesly burned 
 Tyndall's translation of the Bible. The Pope's 
 sentence on Luther was publicly read from the cross 
 in the presence of Cardinal Wolsey. During the 
 whole time of the divorce proceedings Henry's 
 agents were busy announcing ideas from the cross 
 that subservient England was supposed to believe 
 like gospel narrative. When Henry finally con- 
 summated his revolt from the see of Rome he caused 
 a proclamation to be read at the cross stating that 
 orders be taken "that such as preach at Paul's 
 Cross shall henceforth continually from Sunday to 
 Sunday, teach and declare unto the people that he 
 that now caUeth himself the Pope, and any of his 
 predecessors, is and were, only Bishops of Rome, 
 and have no more authority or jurisdiction, by God's 
 law, within this realm than any other bishop had. 
 
102 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 which is nothing at all." Before this cross knelt 
 in shame the Holy Maid of Kent with her confed- 
 erates beside her, while her confession was read 
 aloud, the Bishop of Bangor setting forth in his 
 address the heniousness of her offence. Four years 
 later the famous Boxley Rood was exhibited and 
 the machinery by which it worked miracles laid 
 open to the scoffing view of multitudes. During 
 the reign of Mary Protestants were continually 
 abused from Paul's Cross. Gardiner lauded King 
 Philip as " the most perfect prince " ; and a few 
 years later the same most perfect prince was held 
 up from the same cross as a merciless tyrant and 
 agent of the devil. From it people were exhorted 
 to give thanks for the defeat of the Armada, while 
 a gaudy streamer taken from one of the cap- 
 tured galleons waved defiantly over the preacher's 
 head. 
 
 It was from this cross that the May-pole, from 
 which the church of St. Andrew Undershaft de- 
 rives its name, was denounced as an idol by the 
 narrow-minded curate of St. Catharine Cree. Here 
 recantations were made, royal victories, marriages, 
 proclamations of peace, etc., announced with a 
 blare of trumpets and a prayer. Here the mem- 
 ory of Elizabeth's " darling," the Earl of Essex, 
 was blackened by command in a Sunday sermon. 
 Enough has been said to show that Paul's Cross 
 
OLD SAI NT PAUL'S 103 
 
 was the government oracle for the guidance of the 
 people. 
 
 After Elizabeth came to the throne the people 
 looked in vain for some weeks for an official deliv- 
 ery. The usual succession of Sunday sermons 
 was, however, interrupted; and when the silence 
 was at last broken the people heard only noncom- 
 mittal judgments from the mouthpiece of the 
 wily Queen. She had not yet made up her mind 
 concerning the policy of her religion, a subject she 
 never for a moment decided upon conviction. When 
 at last she was ready to have a sermon delivered 
 the keys of the cross had been lost. The Lord 
 Blayor found it necessary to set in motion the offi- 
 cial machinery of the city corporation in order to 
 commission a locksmith to force the entrance ; and 
 then the pulpit was found so fouled by birds as to 
 be unfit for immediate use. The birds are still 
 there and daily fed at the expense of the city, but 
 the cross is long since a thing of the irrevocable 
 past. 
 
 Two or three memorable occurrences during the 
 reign of Elizabeth deserve a passing notice. One 
 of the glories of the old cathedral was the spire and 
 its weather-cock. " This steeple," says Stow, 
 " was repaired in 1462, and the weather-cock again 
 erected. Robert Godwin, winding it up, the rope 
 brake, and he was destroyed on the pinnacles, and 
 
104 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 the cock was sore bruised; but Burchwood (the 
 King's plumber) set it up again; since the which 
 time, needing reparation, it was both taken down 
 and set up in the year 1553 ; at which time it was 
 found to be of copper, gilt over; the length from 
 the bill to the tail being four feet, and the breadth 
 over the wings three feet and a half. It weighed 
 forty pounds. The cross from the bowl to the 
 eagle (or cock) was fifteen feet and six inches of 
 assize ; and the length whereof athwart was five 
 feet and ten inches, and the compass of the bowl 
 was nine feet and one inch." 
 
 Its new splendour, however, was to be of short 
 duration. In 1561 a terrible storm burst over 
 London. A flash of lightning fired the church of 
 St. Martin next to Ludgate, and soon afterward 
 the spire of St. Paul's was discovered to be ablaze. 
 It burned fiercely, creeping slowly downward, melt- 
 ing the lead and crumbling the stone. Every 
 eff^ort was made to stay the progress of the con- 
 flagration, which spread along the roof of nave and 
 choir, and both the transepts, till the whole mass 
 fell, filling the body of the church with debris. 
 Only the walls were left intact when the fire finally 
 burned itself out. The destruction of the cathe- 
 dral was looked upon as a national misfortune. 
 Contributions for its reconstruction flowed in from 
 every hand. Even the parsimonious Queen gave a 
 
I I ' 
 
 1 ;. *■ • 
 
 * 
 
 
 St. Paul's Nave 
 
OLD S AINT PAUL'S 105 
 
 thousand marks in gold, and an equal value in 
 timber from the royal forests. With phoenix-like 
 rapidity St. Paul's rose from its ashes to enjoy 
 another century of splendour. Yet it was somewhat 
 shorn, for its tall and graceful spire was never 
 replaced, and the pictures drawn towards the close 
 of the sixteenth century and afterward show only 
 a mutilated stump. 
 
 On May 15, 1570, all London rose as one man 
 in rage, for during the night an unknown person 
 had posted on the door of the Bishop of London's 
 palace the bull of Pius V. excommunicating Eng- 
 land's Maiden Queen. The tempest of anger 
 spread like a whirlwind. The country was filled 
 with ballads hawked about the streets, vituperative 
 of Pope and Catholics ; and the storm was not 
 allayed till the people's wrath was appeased by the 
 public execution of the culprit Felton, who had 
 posted the bull, an execution that took place within 
 sight of the door he had defamed. 
 
 To St. Paul's on Sunday, November 24, 1588, 
 came a great procession headed by the Queen, sur- 
 rounded by all her court and the dignitaries of the 
 city, with meek and humbje hearts to render thanks 
 unto God for the miraculous dispersion of the Ar- 
 mada. St. Paul's, desecrated as it was, was yet 
 the reUgious centre of the capital of England. It 
 was to the merchants and citizens of London above 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE WATER FRONT 
 
 /^NE who entered the city through the famous 
 ^^-^ prison of Ludgate would, at the gate of St. 
 Paul's, turn to the right along Creed Lane and 
 Puddledock, or St. Andrew's Hill, to reach Thames 
 Street, which from Blackfriars to the Tower con- 
 stituted the rear frontage of the river buildings. 
 It bordered the rear of Baynard Castle, one of the 
 great river palaces that figures in Shakespeare's 
 Richard III.; the wharves abutted upon it; it 
 contained the approach to London Bridge; and 
 Billingsgate, then a respectable landing place for 
 general goods, not yet celebrated for its fish and 
 dialect. 
 
 In approaching Thames Street we have passed 
 on our left Carter Lane, which formed the southern 
 boundary of Paul's churchyard. It was a narrow, 
 crooked street, then famous for its taverns, still 
 more famous now because of its literary associa- 
 tions. It contained the dwelling place of the 
 merry cobbler of Tarlton's Jests and the Hart's 
 Horn Tavern, one of the plotting places of the 
 Gunpowder conspirators. It was from the Bell 
 
 107 
 
108 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 Inn in Carter Lane that Richard Quiney in 1598 
 directed the only extant letter addressed to Shake- 
 speare; and Thomas Creed at his house in Carter 
 Lane printed in 1600 the first edition of the 
 Chronicle History of Kimg Henry the Fifth. 
 
 At the corner of Carter Lane and St. Andrew's 
 Hill, opposite a narrow passage towards the Shake- 
 speare play-house, on the site of the present Ward- 
 robe Court, stood a building of great importance 
 to the Elizabethans. The ancient building was 
 erected in 1359 by Sir John Beauchamp, the good 
 man whose tomb in St. Paul's was mistaken for 
 that of Duke Humphrey. The house was subse- 
 quently converted into an office for the Master of 
 the King's Wardrobe, an officer whose duty it was 
 to look after the King's wearing apparel, and to 
 provide proper furnishings for the royal family 
 at coronations, funerals, marriages, and other cere- 
 monials. He had also to furnish beds, hangings, 
 etc., for the houses of foreign ambassadors, for the 
 Prince of Wales, for the Lord Lieutenant of Ire- 
 land, and many other public officers. 
 
 Another building on one of the side streets in 
 this neighbourhood deserves mention before we pass 
 to Thames Street and the water front proper. 
 South of the Wardrobe was the church of St. An- 
 drews, from the churchyard of which Knightrider 
 Street extended east parallel to Thames Street. It 
 
THE WATER FRONT 109 
 
 contained the Stone House, the original shelter 
 of the College of Physicians. The history of 
 this organisation, the rivalry and petty feuds 
 of its factions, is not only interesting, but also 
 amusing. 
 
 The records of the barbers as well as of the sur- 
 geons extend back almost to the beginning of the 
 fourteenth century. The guild of surgeons, then 
 the aristocrats of the profession, was a small select 
 body, doubtless never over twenty in number, and 
 sometimes as few as ten or a dozen. While they 
 were still young, the barbers, having more or less 
 skill at such minor operations as bleeding and dress- 
 ing of wounds, aspired to the practice of surgery. 
 Being of more humble pretensions, these barber- 
 surgeons could afford to charge less than the regu- 
 lar surgeons, and therefore became immensely pop- 
 ular. Both the guilds of barbers and of surgeons 
 continued to exist side by side as distinct and gen- 
 erally rival bodies for many years. 
 
 As a result of this rivalry the barbers were 
 granted a charter by Edward IV. in 1462. The 
 interesting detail of this charter is that it has much 
 to say about the practice of surgery and, though 
 granted to the barbers, nothing about barbery. 
 There is among the records at the Barber Sur- 
 geons' Hall an agreement dated thirty years later, 
 which shows that at that time the rival organ- 
 
110 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 isations were upon friendly terms. We are not 
 surprised, then, to find that half a century (1540) 
 was sufficient to bring them close together in a 
 union that lasted till 1745. Concerning this step, 
 the editor of the Annals and Papers of the Com- 
 pany says: "The union, therefore, was not a join- 
 ing of barbers with surgeons (that had existed from 
 earliest times), but was the consolidation of the 
 ' Guild of Surgeons ' with another body of sur- 
 geons that was incorporated and practised under 
 the name of barbers in conjunction with actual 
 working barbers ; and as the act provided what the 
 surgeons should and should not do, and the like as 
 to actual barbers, limiting their operations also, 
 most if not all difficulty and apparent incongruity 
 in the union seems to vanish." 
 
 The dead bodies of four malefactors were 
 assigned to the new company annually for dissec- 
 tion. The dissection of these bodies gave rise to 
 the " Public Anatomies," which took place in the 
 company's haU, and it was illegal to dissect else- 
 where. They became semi-public exhibitions to 
 which every member of the company was compelled 
 to attend at the risk of being fined for absence ; and 
 on each day so long as the dissection lasted there 
 was a great feast at the company's expense. Oc- 
 casionally bodies obtained in other ways were dis- 
 sected under the name of "private anatomies." 
 
THE WA TER FRONT 111 
 
 Attendance upon these demonstrations was not 
 compulsory, but by invitation. The company also 
 possessed a skeleton, probably but one, which was 
 mounted for exhibition, and may have formed a 
 part of a public museum, inasmuch as a "case of 
 weynscote " was ordered for it in 1568. 
 
 The following extract, quoted in Aiken's Me- 
 moirs of Medicine, illustrates the state of medical 
 practice at the time: 
 
 " I remember," says Gale, " when I was in the 
 wars at Mittrel [Montreuil] in the time of that 
 most famous prince. King Henry VIII., there was 
 a great rabblement that took on them to be sur- 
 geons ; some were sow gelders, and some horse 
 gelders, with tinkers and cobblers. This noble 
 sect did such great cures, that they got themselves 
 a perpetual name ; for like as Thessalus's sect were 
 called Thessalians, so this noble rabblement, for 
 their notorious cures, were called Dog-leeches ; for 
 in two dressings they did commonly make their 
 cures whole and sound forever ; so that they neither 
 felt heat nor cold, nor no manner of pain after. 
 But when the Duke of Norfolk who was their gen- 
 eral, understanding how the people did die, and that 
 of small wounds, he sent for me and certain other 
 surgeons, commanding us to make search how 
 these men came to their death; whether it were by 
 the grievousness of their wounds, or by the lack 
 
112 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 of knowledge of the surgeons ; and we, according 
 to our commandment, made search through all the 
 camp, and found many of the same good fellows, 
 which took upon them the name of surgeons ; not 
 only the name but the wages also. We, asking 
 them whether they were surgeons or no, they said 
 they were ; we demanded with whom they were 
 brought up, and they, with shameless faces, would 
 answer, either with one cunning man or another, 
 which was dead. Then we demanded what chirur- 
 gery stuff they had to cure men withal; and they 
 would show us a pot, or a box, which they had in 
 a budget; wherein was such trumpery as they did 
 use to grease horses' heels withal, and laid upon 
 scabbed horses' backs, with rewel, and suchlike. 
 And others that were cobblers and tinkers, they 
 used shoemaker's wax, with the rust of old pans, 
 and made therewithal a noble salve, as they did 
 term it. But in the end this noble rabblement was 
 committed to the Marshalsea, and threatened by 
 the Duke's Grace, to be hanged for their worthy 
 deeds, except they would declare the truth what 
 they were, and of what occupations ; and in the 
 end they did confess as I have declared unto you 
 before." 
 
 William Clowes, an eminent member of the pro- 
 fession who lived in the latter half of the sixteenth 
 century, wrote as follows: "Where the learned 
 
THE WATER FRONT 113 
 
 physician cannot be had for counsel, I am herewith 
 to admonish the friendly reader to take heed and 
 not to commit themselves into the hands of every 
 blind buzzard that will take upon them to let blood, 
 yea, to the utter undoing of a number. For 
 many in these days being no better than runagates 
 or vagabonds, do extraordinarily, yea, disorderly 
 and unadvisedly intrude themselves into other men's 
 professions, that is to say, not only in letting of 
 blood, but also do take upon them to intermeddle 
 and practise in the art, wherein they were never 
 trained or had any experience : of the which a great 
 number be shameless in countenance, lewd in dis- 
 position, brutish in judgment and understanding 
 as was their unlearned leader and master, Thessa- 
 lus, a vain practitioner, who, when his cunning 
 failed, straightway sent his patients to Lybia for 
 a change of air. . . . This their grand cap- 
 tain was by profession a teazler of wool and also 
 the fore-runner of this beastly brood following: 
 which do forsake their honest trades, whereunto 
 God hath called them, and do daily rush into 
 physic and surgery. And some of them be Paint- 
 ers, some Tailors, some Weavers, some Joiners, 
 some Cutlers, some Cooks, some Bakers, and some 
 Chandlers. Yea, now-a-days it is apparent to see 
 how Tinkers, Tooth-drawers, Pedlars, Ostlers, Car- 
 ters, Porters, Horse-gelders, and Horse-leeches, 
 
114. SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 Idiots, Apple-squires, broom-men, bawds, with 
 witches, conjurers, Sooth-sayers, and sow-gelders. 
 Rogues, rat-catchers, runagates and proctors of 
 Spittle-houses, with other suchlike rotten and 
 stinking weeds which do in town and country with- 
 out order, honesty or skill, daily abuse both physic 
 and surgery, having no more perseverance, reason 
 or knowledge in his art than hath a goose, but a 
 certain blind practice without wisdom or judgment, 
 and most commonly useth one remedy for all dis- 
 eases, and one way of curing all persons both old 
 and young, men, women, and children, which is as 
 possible to be performed or to be true as for a 
 shoe-maker with one last to make a shoe to fit every 
 man's foot, and this is one principal cause that so 
 many perish." 
 
 It was in order to put an end to such corrupt 
 practices that Henry VIII., in the tenth year of 
 his reign, founded the Royal College of Physi- 
 cians. It was to this organisation that Dr. Lin- 
 acre, its first president, and one of the six specified 
 in the original charter, presented the above men- 
 tioned Stone House in Knightrider Street. 
 
 "In the year 1518," says Dr. Johnson, "when 
 Linacre's scheme was carried into eff^ect, the prac- 
 tice of medicine was scarcely elevated above that 
 of the mechanical arts; nor were the majority of 
 its practitioners among the laity better instructed 
 
THE WATER FRONT 115 
 
 than the mechanics by whom these arts were 
 practiced." 
 
 For a long time physics and surgery were kept 
 distinct, surgeons not being allowed to give inward 
 treatment. The remedies of the former, like all the 
 prescriptions of the sixteenth and seventeenth cen- 
 turies, contained " amongst a few efficacious arti- 
 cles, many which are foreign, if not useless, to the 
 purpose for which they are designed." (Munk: 
 Roll of the Royal College of Physicians.) Much 
 advantage, however, was derived from the institu- 
 tion of the college. It had supervision over all the 
 practitioners of medicine in the kingdom, except 
 regular medical graduates of Oxford and Cam- 
 bridge; and in 1556 we find the college actually 
 engaged in a quarrel with one of the universities 
 for granting a degree to a coppersmith unsuited 
 by study for the proper practice of medicine. 
 
 In the twenty-fourth year of Elizabeth Richard 
 Caldwell and Lord Lumley, whose house was upon 
 Tower Hill, endowed a surgery lecture in the col- 
 lege that was afterward occupied by Harvey at the 
 time he expounded his famous theory of the cii-- 
 culation of the blood. 
 
 With such men as Gales, John Halle, and Clowes 
 about the same time, not to speak of Linacre and 
 many others, it is no wonder that the medical pro- 
 fession improved wonderfully during the sixteenth 
 
116 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 century and early years of the seventeenth. It 
 was no longer possible for any one who chose to 
 practise the art and mystery of surgery. Mr. 
 Darcy Power thus describes the process by which 
 one obtained rank in the profession: 
 
 "The easiest way to understand this is perhaps 
 to follow the course of a boy whose father was 
 anxious that he should attain a high position as a 
 surgeon in London towards the end of the reign of 
 Edward VI., or whilst Mary or Elizabeth was on 
 the throne. Such a boy would be taught to read 
 and write in one of the grammar schools then re- 
 cently founded in London. He had learnt, too, a 
 little arithmetic and some Latin, but his knowledge 
 of Greek would be of the scantiest. About the age 
 of fourteen he would leave school when his father 
 had found some member of the Barber-Surgeons' 
 Company who was in need of an apprentice. 
 Terms being agreed upon, the boy, his father, and 
 the barber-surgeon would meet at the Barber-Sur- 
 geons' Hall in Monkwell Street, where the candi- 
 date for apprenticeship was duly presented to the 
 court or council of the company to show that he 
 was sound in wind and Hmb and that he had received 
 a sufficient education. If he were approved the 
 clerk of the company made out his indentures, 
 which were then taken to the Guildhall to be regis- 
 tered. The lad was bound to his master for 
 
THE WATE R FRONT 117 
 
 seven years, which in some cases was extended to 
 eight or even nine years. The master received a 
 lump sum of money, in return for which he under- 
 took to find the apprentice 'meat, drink, apparel, 
 lodging, and all other necessaries according to the 
 customs of the city.' Each master was allowed to 
 take three or four apprentices, according to his 
 position in the united company, and if he died the 
 apprentice was turned over to another master. 
 During his indentures the apprentice remained the 
 slave of his master, who might whip or starve him 
 into submission, or might even have him impris- 
 oned in the city compter. The boy, however, had 
 a right to appeal to the Barber-Surgeons' Com- 
 pany, which he sometimes exercised, though more 
 often he revenged himself by a thousand impish 
 tricks, for he was constantly in hot water. Usually, 
 however, things came right in the end and the ap- 
 prentice was admitted to the freedom of the com- 
 pany by servitude, upon the recommendation of 
 his master, and he thus obtained a licence to prac- 
 tice surgery within the city of London. 
 
 " The licence was granted in two forms. The 
 one after a comparatively simple examination, 
 when the candidate was allowed to practise in a 
 definite place for a definite number of months or 
 years, at the end of which he was told to appear 
 again before the company that his further profi- 
 
118 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 ciency might be ascertained; secondly, the grand 
 diploma was granted to those who had submitted 
 themselves to a more severe test. It entitled its 
 owner to be called a Master in Surgery and Anat- 
 omy and allowed him to practise his art anywhere 
 and during the whole of his life. 
 
 " The education of the surgeon did not end with 
 the granting of his licence ; indeed, it only now 
 began, and to the end of his life he was bound to 
 attend the lectures and demonstrations given at the 
 Barber-Surgeons' Hall, unless he chose to stay 
 away and pay a fine. The company taught espe- 
 cially surgery and anatomy; surgery by lectures, 
 anatomy by lectures and demonstrations." 
 
 Let us now return from the region into which 
 this digression about medicine has led us. We find 
 ourselves back in the neighbourhood just south- 
 west of the cathedral. There is a wall on the right 
 hand side of the street that leads down to the cathe- 
 dral, that bounds the precinct of the Blackfriars. 
 We shall hurry past the gate down the dechne. St. 
 Andrew's Hill, otherwise known as Puddledock 
 Hill, conducts us to the Puddle Dock. According 
 to John Stow, the Elizabethan Baedeker, the place 
 derived its name from the habit of leading horses 
 down to water. Directly east of the Puddle Dock, 
 with a frontage for some distance upon the river, 
 stood one of those prominent landmarks of a past 
 
THE WATER FRONT 119 
 
 age. In Elizabethan times the residents of great 
 palaces had for the most part quitted London and 
 moved westward to airier and sunnier sites. One, 
 however, was stiU left to ruffle it bravely among 
 the greasy costermongers and tawdry shops of 
 Thames Street. This was Baynard Castle, a huge 
 stone structure crowned with gables and turrets, 
 whose lower walls were washed by "the silver 
 streaming Thames." It was built in 1428 by 
 Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, on whose attain- 
 der it reverted to the crown. During the Wars 
 of the Roses the Duke of York was lodged there, 
 and the place is frequently mentioned by Shake- 
 speare. Henry VII. enlarged it and made it more 
 of a palace than a castle. It was there that on 
 July 19, 1553, "the council partly moved with 
 the Lady Mary's cause, partly considering that 
 the most of the realm was wholly bent to her side, 
 changing their mind from Lady Jane, lately pro- 
 claimed queen, assembled themselves, where they 
 communed with the Earl of Pembroke and the Earl 
 of Shrewsbury ; and Sir John Mason, Clerk of the 
 Council, sent for the Lord Mayor, and then riding 
 into Cheap, to the Cross, where Garter King at 
 Arms, trumpet being sounded, proclaimed the 
 Lady Mary, daughter of Henry VIII. and Queen 
 Katharine, Queen of England." (Stow.) 
 
 Let us leave this so-called palace, in appearance 
 
120 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 the most gloomy of all those riverine mansions, and 
 pass on a few yards to a steep narrow passage from 
 the river to the cathedral. On the east side of this 
 Paul's Wharf Hill stood the College of Heralds, 
 one of those organisations that represent the very 
 life and blood of the English nation. The college 
 of arms received its first charter as early as the 
 time of Richard HI., who gave them Poultney's 
 Inn, "a right fayre and stately house" in Cold 
 Harbour. They were dispossessed of this prop- 
 erty by Henry VII., when they removed to the 
 Hospital of Our Lady Rounceval at Charing Cross, 
 where now stands Northumberland House. They 
 next removed to Derby or Stanley House, on St. 
 Benet's Hill (Paul's Wharf Hill). 
 
 The service of the pursuivants and of the 
 heralds, and of the whole college, was used in 
 marshalling and ordering coronations, marriages, 
 funerals, etc. Also they took care of the coats of 
 arms and the genealogies of the nobihty and the 
 gentry. " Anciently the Kings-at-arms were sol- 
 emnly crowned before the sovereign, and took an 
 oath ; during which the Earl Marshal poured a 
 bowl of wine on his head, put on him a richly em- 
 broidered coat of arms, a collar of Esses, a jewel 
 and gold chain, and a Crown of Gold." (Cham- 
 berlayne's Magna Britainnice Volitia. 1726.) 
 
 The college consists of three kings — Garter, 
 
THE WATER FRONT 121 
 
 Clarenceux, and Norrey; of six heralds — Lancas- 
 ter, Somerset, Richmond, Windsor, York, and 
 Chester; and of four pursuivants — Rouge Croix, 
 Blue Mantle, Portcullis, and Rouge Dragon. The 
 Court of Honour, as the Earl Marshal's office was 
 called, was situated here. It was so named because 
 one of its duties was to take cognisance of words 
 that reflected upon the nobility. In this court Sir 
 Richard Grenville was fined for saying that the 
 Earl of Suffolk was a base man. Here also used 
 to meet the College of Antiquaries, founded by 
 Archbishop Parker in 1572, and to which belonged 
 such memorable scholars as Camden, Cotton, and 
 Stow. 
 
 One cannot leave the Herald's College without 
 a word concerning its greatest member, an Eliza- 
 bethan, and the chief ornament of his time in the 
 world of letters. WiUiam Camden was born in a 
 house in the Old Bailey, May 2, 1551. His father, 
 Sampson Camden, was a common painter, and it is 
 worth recording that in after years when Camden 
 became Clarenceux King-at-arms, and was known 
 all over Europe as the foremost antiquarian scholar 
 of the day, he never became too proud to acknowl- 
 edge his humble birth or the calling of his father. 
 
 At the age of twelve he sickened of the plague, 
 but fortunately recovered and was sent to St. Paul's 
 School. It was in later years while a student at 
 
122 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 Oxford that he began to develop his bent towards 
 antiquarian affairs. On leaving Oxford about 
 1571 he took up his residence at London. He soon 
 became known throughout an ever widening circle 
 of friends, who implored him to write a history of 
 Great Britain in the ancient times. For years the 
 magnitude of the task deterred him, but as his 
 fame increased the pressure grew, and at last he 
 succumbed. 
 
 Ten years were spent in preparation, during 
 which time he overcame herculean difEculties. He 
 travelled, corresponded with scholars on the conti- 
 nent, and searched the ancient records. As the 
 result of his study of place names he came to the con- 
 clusion that he could do nothing further until he 
 had mastered the ancient British language. The 
 absence of text-books and teachers made this no 
 easy task, but he accomplished it thoroughly at last. 
 Once again his work was laid aside while he took 
 time to master the Saxon language. So much 
 painstaking labour could not but be crowned with 
 success. In 1586 appeared the first edition of the 
 Brittannia, dedicated to his dear friend, Lord 
 Burghley, and the work to this day is the starting 
 point of all study of ancient Britain. 
 
 In 1597 died Richard Lee, and Camden was 
 elected in his place Clarenceux King-at-arms, one 
 of the chief offices of the College of Heralds. In 
 
THE WATER FRONT 123 
 
 1600 he produced an historical account of West- 
 minster; in 1603 a volume of English historians, 
 dedicated to Fulke Grevile ; and in 1607 an account 
 of the Gunpowder Plot, written in Latin. All these 
 latter books, however, were the product of his spare 
 hours. His main time after the completion of the 
 Brittannia was devoted to the composition of his 
 great history of the reign of Elizabeth. In 1589 
 he had published a part of it, which was so well 
 received that he was encouraged to proceed. In 
 1617 the whole was finished, constituting his second 
 monumental work for all time. 
 
 With the history of Elizabeth his life work 
 ended. He died November 9, 1623, and on the 
 19th was interred at Westminster Abbey, opposite 
 the grave of Chaucer, where a monument of white 
 marble bears his effigy, holdipg a book on which Is 
 inscribed the word " Brittannia." 
 
 A little further east, on the south side of Thames, 
 was Queenhithe, an ancient landing place that 
 shared the importance of Billingsgate in the days 
 before it became exclusively a market for fish. 
 From 1600 to 1625 it was the headquarters of the 
 London watermen. This important fraternity was 
 not pretentious. It used to hold its meetings in an 
 alehouse by the riverside, namely The Red Knight, 
 and its most glorious member set out thence upon 
 a penniless pilgrimage about the country. This 
 
IM SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 was John Taylor, familiarly known as the Water 
 Poet. He was born in 1580 of humble parentage. 
 He found the " learning " of Gloucester grammar 
 school beyond his ambition if not his attainment, 
 and was sent in consequence to London, where he 
 was apprenticed to a waterman. He was impressed 
 into the navy, a fact that accounts for his presence 
 at the siege of Cadiz, where, doubtless, he acquitted 
 himself with no particular credit. After varied 
 experiences he returned to London to the quiet call- 
 ing of waterman. An accident in 1622 by which 
 he was stripped of certain perquisites that he had 
 received from the Tower induced him to attempt 
 to increase his diminished earnings by the construc- 
 tion of poetry — God save the mark! Though not 
 suited by nature or education to the production of 
 literature, he managed to pen innumerable verses 
 that brought him what Dogberry might have called 
 posterior fame ; for to us they are a mine of social 
 information, though of no literary value. In The 
 Sculler (1612) he ridiculed the great traveller 
 Thomas Coryat, who appealed to " superior pow- 
 ers " to defend him. Taylor grew popular, and 
 Ben Jonson, not to speak of lesser lights such as 
 courtiers and statesmen, patted him fondly on the 
 head for his rollicking verse. He was an erratic 
 genius in act as well as in verse. He delighted in 
 eccentric feats that would astonish the reader when 
 
THE WATER FRONT 125 
 
 made into literature. For instance: he once set 
 out with another rattle-brained companion to make 
 a voyage from London to Queensborough in a 
 brown paper boat with two stockfish tied to canes 
 for oars. The boat collapsed, but the poet escaped 
 drowning. Each similar adventure was followed 
 by a printed account. His most famous lark was 
 a trip he undertook, setting out from London, with 
 empty pockets, an expedition that is now known to 
 us as The Penniless Pilgrimage, or the Money- 
 less Perambulation of John Taylor. The Water 
 Poet died in 1654, far away from the river front 
 and Thames Street, in Phoenix Alley, Long Acre, 
 where he kept the Crown. 
 
 All this part of old London was crossed by nar- 
 row filthy streets that descended to the river over 
 very steep hiUs. Dowgate, one of the steepest of 
 them all, was the scene of an accident that, though 
 it seems almost impossible, has the authority of 
 Stow. " The descent of this street is such," he 
 says, " that in the year 1574, on the fourth of Sep- 
 tember in the afternoon, there feU a storm of rain, 
 where through the channels suddenly rose, and ran 
 with such swift course towards the common shores, 
 that a lad of eighteen years, minding to have leapt 
 over the channel near to the same conduit, was 
 taken with the stream and carried from thence 
 towards the Thames, with such a violence, that no 
 
126 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 man with staves or otherwise could stay him, till he 
 came against a cart wheel that stood in the same 
 water gate, before which time he was drowned and 
 stark dead." 
 
 All youthful readers of Henry VI. and The 
 Last of the Barons have wondered where the great 
 king-maker, "that centre shaking, thunder-clap 
 of war," resided when in town. Warwick's palace 
 was of old time known as Erber House, and stood 
 on the east side of Dowgate Hill, next the church 
 of St. Mary Bothaw. In subsequent years it was 
 occupied by "false, fleeting, perjured Clarence"; 
 and when Shakespeare wrote was the town house 
 of the most famous of all the Elizabethan navi- 
 gators, Sir Francis Drake. 
 
 In the neighbourhood of Dowgate wharf Robert 
 Greene the dramatist died in 1592. He was living 
 in the house of a shoemaker at the time, and died 
 indebted to his landlord for the mere necessities of 
 life. Customs were sometimes collected at Dow- 
 gate, and it was the chief place whence water was 
 carried to be peddled about the city. It was then 
 a common sight to see the water carriers, usually 
 called " cobs," going from house to house with their 
 tankards upon their shoulders. These were wooden 
 vessels, wide at the bottom and narrow at the top, 
 bound round with iron hoops, and capable of hold- 
 ing three gallons each. 
 
o a 
 
 K g 
 
THE WATER FRONT 127 
 
 East of Dowgate was the Steelyard, occupied by 
 the merchants of the Hanseatic League, who kept 
 Bishopsgate in order in return for certain trading 
 privileges. Next came a block of ramshackle 
 buildings that took its name from a structure de- 
 molished in the time of Stow. Cold Harbour was 
 noted in the time of Elizabeth as a neighbourhood 
 of bad repute. Sir Walter Scott's description of 
 Alsatia at a slightly later date as readily applies 
 to Cold Harbour. But little imagination is needed 
 to conjure up the scene. In the very centre of the 
 river front of a densely populated city, on one of 
 the filthiest streets, surrounded by miserable tene- 
 ments, Cold Harbour was the haunting place of 
 every kind of vice. It undoubtedly possessed that 
 traditional or empirical kind of sanctuary that was 
 attributed in common with it to Suffolk Place in 
 Southwark, to St. Martin's le Grand, and to Alsa- 
 tia. Cold Harbour Stairs was known throughout 
 all London as the place to be watched for embark- 
 ing debtors and criminals of all sorts who found 
 even the sanctuary too hot for them. What is 
 perhaps an unfamiliar fact even to Londoners is 
 that in the early years of the seventeenth century 
 Cold Harbour was the place par excellence for 
 irregular marriages, such as the Fleet afterwards 
 became. 
 
 One who continues east along Thames Street to- 
 
128 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 day passes under London Bridge, and comes im- 
 mediately to the church of St. Magnus the Martyr 
 at the corner of Fish Street Hill. This street was 
 the approach to the old London Bridge, which stood 
 a short distance east of the present structure. The 
 street was narrow and dangerously steep of old 
 time, and occupied mainly by the shops of fishmon- 
 gers, and the ever present tavern. " These fish- 
 mongers," says Stow, "have been jolly citizens, 
 and six mayors of their company in 24 years." 
 King's Head Court just below the monument marks 
 the site of King's Head Tavern, frequented by 
 roisterers and famous for its wine. Diagonally 
 opposite is BeU Yard, where once stood the Black 
 Bell, a tavern that further back in its history was 
 the residence of Edward, the Black Prince. 
 
 East of the bridge lay a small ward that took 
 its name from Billingsgate, which was long one of 
 the principal city wharves. From Stow's list of 
 commodities landed at Billingsgate one can see that 
 it had not yet become especially noted for its fish, 
 a distinction it did not gain till the time of William 
 III., when, in 1699, by an act of Parliament, Bil- 
 lingsgate was made a free port for fish with a mar- 
 ket every week day. On the east side of Billings- 
 gate was Smart's Key, where was located a famous 
 den of vice, known as the cut-purse school. 
 
 " One Wotton," writes Fleetwood to Burleigh in 
 
THE WATER FRONT 129 
 
 1585, " a gentleman born and sometime a merchant 
 of good credit, who falling by time into decay, 
 kept an ale-house at Smart's Key near Billings- 
 gate, and after, for some misdemeanour being put 
 down, he reared up a new trade of life, and in the 
 same house he procured all the cut-purses about 
 the city to repair to his said house. There was a 
 school-house set up to teach young boys to cut 
 purses. There was hung up two devices, one a 
 pocket, the other a purse. The pocket had in it 
 certain counters and was hung about with hawk's 
 bells, and over the top did hang a little scaring 
 bell; and he that could take out a counter without 
 any noise was allowed to be a public hoyster (pick- 
 pocket), and he that could take a piece of silver 
 out of the purse, without the noise of any of the 
 bells, he was adjudged a judicial nipper (cut 
 purse.)" 
 
 We have now traversed almost the entire river 
 front, and have arrived close to the Tower. In the 
 lower part of Thames Street were a number of 
 wharves belonging to private persons, landings 
 whose names changed from time to time with the 
 change of occupant. The only building of note 
 was the custom-house. This was, in reahty, the 
 busiest part of the frontage on the river. Here 
 congregated merchants from every part of the 
 world, in their outlandish dress, arguing their du- 
 
130 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 ties, buying, selling, cheapening till the air became 
 a bedlam like Lombard Street before the building of 
 the Exchange. TJiere was a good business done 
 in those days. In 1572 a report to Elizabeth shows 
 an average collection of customs amounting to 
 65,000 pounds. For all that, the duties were so 
 carelessly collected that a report dated the ninth of 
 her reign estimated that the leakage since her coro- 
 nation had amounted to 96,000 pounds ; whereupon 
 Edward Matthews was appointed commissioner for 
 <the concealment of customs, but he was menaced 
 with destruction if he should proceed with his in- 
 vestigations. In order to save the expense of 
 operating the custom-house Elizabeth farmed out 
 the office in 1590 for 20,000 pounds a year, and it 
 was soon discovered that she lost 10,000 pounds 
 annually by the new arrangement. A rare old 
 print of the building published by Wilkinson 
 shows it to have been a massive structure of three 
 stories, with a huge gate near the east end. It 
 faced a large paved court that stood between it and 
 the river, where congregated the merchants who 
 daily turned it into a sort of mart for the transac- 
 tion of business. 
 
 Towards the east end of Thames Street, in a 
 turning towards the north, stood the Bakers' Hall. 
 The building itself is of no particular interest, but 
 .a list of rules and regulations pertaining to the 
 
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THE WATER FRONT 131 
 
 company's affairs is so ch. "ged with the obsolete 
 restrictions that were exerci ^ by the paternal city 
 governments of those days ■ it is worth inser- 
 tion ahnost complete. 
 
 " First that no manner of person or persons shall 
 keep a common bake-house in cities or corporate 
 towns, but such persons as have been apprenticed 
 unto the same mysteries, and brought up therein 
 for the more space of seven years, or else otherwise 
 skilful in the good making and true sizing of all 
 sorts of bread ; and shall put his own mark or seal 
 upon all sorts of his man's bread, which he or they 
 shall make or sell, as before is mentioned. 
 
 " Item, that no baker, or any other person do 
 make, bake, utter and sell any kind or sorts of 
 bread in the Commonwealth, but such which the 
 statutes and ancient ordinances of this realm do 
 allow them to bake and sell: that is to say, they 
 may bake and sell Symnel bread, and Wastel, 
 White Wheaten, Household and horse bread, and 
 none other kinds of bread, to put to sale unto her 
 majesty's subjects. 
 
 " Item, they must make and bake farthing white 
 bread, half-penny white, penny white, half-penny 
 wheaten, penny household, and two-penny house- 
 hold loaves; and none of greater size, upon pain 
 of forfeiture, unto poor people, all such great 
 bread which they or any of them shall make to 
 
132 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 sell of greater size (the time of Christmas always 
 being excepted). 
 
 " Item, they shall not utter or sell to any inn- 
 holder, or victualer, either in man's bread or horse 
 bread out of size and not by law allowed), except 
 worth for 12d without any poundage or other 
 advantage. 
 
 " Item, they shall sell and deliver unto innholders 
 and victualers in horsebread but three loaves for 
 a penny, and 13 penny worth for 12d (as afore- 
 said) every one of the same three horse loaves 
 weighing the full weight of a penny white loaf, 
 whether wheat be good, cheap, or dear. 
 
 "Item, that no baker, or other person or per- 
 sons, shall at any time or times hereafter, make, 
 utter, or sell by retail, within or without their 
 houses, unto any of the Queen's subjects, any spice 
 cakes, buns, bisket, or other spice bread, (being 
 bread out of size and not by law allowed), except 
 it be at burials, or upon the Friday before Easter, 
 or at Christmas ; upon pain of forfeiture of all 
 such spice bread to the poor. 
 
 " Item, whereas there are in cities and corporate 
 towns, common bakers using the misterie of baking 
 there, and within the same town bakers which come 
 unto the market with their bread to be sold; they 
 shall not only bring with them such kinds and sorts 
 of sized bread as the law and ordinances do allow 
 
THE WATER FRONT 133 
 
 to be made and sold as aforesaid; but shall also 
 keep and observe this order in the sale of their 
 bread, as hereafter followeth. Because the said 
 foreigners do not bear and pay within the same 
 cities and towns such scot and lot as the bakers of 
 the same towns do. 
 
 " First the foreigners' half -penny white loaves 
 shall weigh half an ounce more in every loaf than 
 the bakers of the same towns half-penny white 
 loaves do. And so in similar proportions for other 
 sorts and sizes of bread." 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 THE TOWER OF LONDON 
 
 IT matters little whether it is to-day, or yesterday, 
 or any day these eight hundred years past that 
 one visits London — he finds the Tower one of the 
 great sights of the town. All familiar with 
 Shakespeare know that the Elizabethans attrib- 
 uted its foundation to Julius Cffisar. For this 
 tradition there is no historical basis beyond the 
 fact that the Tower was built upon a portion of 
 the old Roman wall demolished for the purpose. 
 The Tower, which was begun by William the Con- 
 queror about 1087, was merely a single keep, a 
 fortress erected for the main purpose of maintain- 
 ing London in a wholesome state of awe, inciden- 
 tally to protect it against art hostile attack. 
 William was too new in his acquired property to 
 feel that safety which led in later times to the 
 abandonment of the Tower as a royal residence. 
 He wished a safe place on which to rest the uneasy 
 head that wore the new-earned crown. The struc- 
 ture was added to by William Rufus, and again 
 and again by later sovereigns till it began to as- 
 sume its present appearance. By the time of 
 
 134 
 
Tower of London in the Time or Elizabeth 
 
 Inner Ward — (A) White tower; (B) Wardrobe tower; (C) Cold Harbour; (D) St. 
 Peter's Church; (E) Block on Tower Green; (F) Officer's house; (G) Lieutenant's house; 
 (H) The Garden; (I) Queen's apartments; (K) Queen's garden; (L) Gunners' quarters. 
 
 On the Wall — (a) Beauchamp tower; (b) Prisoners' walk; fc) Belfry; (d) Raleigh's 
 walk; (e) Bloody tower; (f) Lantern; (g) Salt tower; (h) Broad Arrow tower; (i) Con- 
 stable tower; (k) Martin tower; (1) Northumberland's walk; (m) Brick tower; (n) Bow- 
 yer tower; (o) Flint tower; (p) Develin tower. 
 
 Outer Ward — (i) Postern; (2) Middle tower; (O Byeward gate; (4) Gateway 
 under Bloodv tower; (5) Hall tower; (6) Great hall; (7) Queen's stairs; (8) Traitor's 
 
 fate; (9) St. Thomas' tower; (10) Cradle tower; (11) Well tower; (12) Galleyman tower; 
 13) Iron gate; (14) Brass mount; (15) Legge mount; (16) Soldiers' quarters. 
 
THE TOWER OF LONDON 135 
 
 Elizabeth the main lines of the Tower as It exists 
 to-day had been laid down. 
 
 There was a narrow strip of wharf, guarded by 
 the Tower, yet isolated from it and open to the 
 public, which extended along the whole river front- 
 age. There were cannons here for defence, and 
 cranes for landing all sorts of goods belonging to 
 the Queen and to others. An interesting bill of 
 complaints directed against one of the Elizabethan 
 Lieutenants of the Tower speaks thus in the quaint 
 language of the time concerning the abuse of tliis 
 landing-frontage to the fortress. 
 
 " That command had been given by their hon- 
 ours, that no great ordnance should be shot off at 
 any time upon the Tower wharf, or about the 
 Tower, except it were only for the Queen. Not- 
 withstanding they continue to shoot from time to 
 time great pieces, which pieces were to be sold or 
 lent to divers persons, with the Queen's own pow- 
 der, conveyed by them out of the Tower in barrels. 
 That this shooting utterly marred the wharf, being 
 sore worn and shaken already, brake the glass 
 windows, and losed the tiles of houses newly re- 
 paired. 
 
 "That they did receive and discharge upon the 
 same wharf divers men's stuffs, as timber, logs, 
 billots, faggots, rubbish, hay, straw, and all other 
 things, and carry and recarry the same with cars 
 
136 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 and carts ; which did greatly decay the wharf and 
 wear the Queen's cranes." 
 
 In a covered channel that passed under this 
 wharf was the entrance known as the Traitors' 
 Gate, so-called, says Stow, "of conveying pris- 
 oners for treason that way." It passed under the 
 castellated tower of St. Thomas, thence beneath 
 a roadway that divided the inner and outer walls, 
 and arrived at the Bloody Tower. Here the 
 unfortunate prisoner would alight and mount the 
 stairs, the top of which were within the strongest 
 part of the gloomy fortress. It was at the head 
 of these steps that the Princess Elizabeth sat down 
 in the rain and refused to go further. How the 
 furious fickle wheel of fortune swept round before 
 she returned after her imprisonment to sleep in 
 the Tower the night before her coronation! 
 
 But those who visited the Tower voluntarily 
 arrived in a different way and from a different 
 direction. Every Tower visitor to-day must pass 
 through a little office where he performs a most 
 important act. If he or she wear a bag, no 
 matter if it be too small more than to contain a 
 handkerchief, the wearer must leave it behind. 
 These great stone walls, venerable and massive 
 as they are, are not able to withstand the force 
 of powder. In the eyes of the Tower authorities 
 dynamite is the accursed thing and must be 
 
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 o 
 
 Q 
 
 o 
 ^-1 
 
 o 
 
THE TOWER OF LONDON 137 
 
 watched for like the first signs of plague. Yet, 
 if this seems to be over-carefulness, it is well to 
 remember that it has the authority of centuries 
 of custom behind it. Something very like was 
 the custom in Elizabethan days. It was then all 
 open ground upon Tower Hill, and one who rode 
 across the green fields in the immediate neigh- 
 bourhood was compelled to ahght and give an 
 account of himself. At the postern, which in 
 position very nearly coincides with the office of 
 to-day, he showed his passport and gave up his 
 arms. Thence he passed along a narrow causeway 
 with the moat upon either side to the strong auxili- 
 ary fortification in the very centre of the moat 
 that was known as the Middle Tower. Through 
 this ponderous gate he must pass, still upon the 
 causeway, before he reached a still stronger place 
 of defence, the Byeward Tower. Erom within 
 this massive structure one exit gave upon the 
 wharf before the Tower, the other gave entrance to 
 the inner ward. 
 
 Let us imagine an attack. After the three 
 gates already mentioned had been taken by force, 
 the attackers would find that their work was hardly 
 begun in earnest. The Tower enclosure was sur- 
 rounded by a moat one hundred and twenty feet 
 wide and more than three thousand in length meas- 
 ured along the outer side. It enclosed an area 
 
138 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 a little in excess of thirteen acres. The inner 
 side was bordered by a heavy wall protected at 
 the angles by fortifications. Within this was 
 another stone rampart with no less than twelve 
 large towers of defence at the various angles. 
 The space between these two walls was known as 
 the outer ward, and is where we have now arrived. 
 It contained little more than gardens, playgrounds, 
 and soldiers' quarters. It was not difficult to 
 obtain permission to enter the outer ward, but 
 permission to enter the inner ward was a privilege 
 indeed. 
 
 To take advantage of it one had to pass along 
 between the outer and inner walls to the gateway 
 in the Bloody Tower which was midway in the 
 front of the enclosure and immediately above the 
 water entrance already described. Once within 
 this we are within the precincts proper of the 
 Tower. Yet the armed force bent upon mischief 
 would not yet be within striking distance of suc- 
 cess. There was still the original keep built by 
 the Conqueror to be won. Whoever is familiar 
 with the structure of the ancient castles knows that 
 this was no easy undertaking. The White Tower, 
 before the days of gunpowder, was impregnable 
 to aU but strategy. 
 
 There was but a single narrow entrance, only 
 wide enough to permit one man to pass through 
 
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 H 
 
 X 
 
 p 
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 o 
 
 < 
 
 H 
 
 •»; 
 O 
 
THE TOWER OF LONDON 139 
 
 with ease at a time. Access above and below the 
 floor of the entry was by means of a spiral stair 
 within the massive walls that measured from ten 
 to fifteen feet in thickness of solid masonry. 
 There were four tiers in all. The lowest was of 
 dungeons, and entered only from above. The two 
 upper floors contained the banquet haU, the court- 
 rooms and the chapel, one of the three existing 
 Norman churches in the vicinity of London. This 
 was the final stronghold. Not till the White Tower, 
 which originally stood alone as the complete for- 
 tress, was won could it be said that the Tower was 
 taken. Yet the word Tower implied all the group 
 of buildings within the moat. There was the 
 great hall on the south side, the King's palace for 
 use when not in danger of attack, many gardens 
 and walks, play-grounds, and the church of St. 
 Peter, which faced the place of execution. 
 
 Stow thus enumerates the uses of the Tower 
 in his day : " This Tower is a citadel to defend 
 or command the city ; a royal palace for assem- 
 blies or treaties ; a prison of state for the most 
 dangerous off'enders ; the only place of coinage 
 for all England at this time; the armoury for 
 warlike provision ; the treasury of the ornaments 
 and jewels of the crown; and general conserver 
 of most records of the king's courts of justice at 
 Westminster." Stow, however, does not mention 
 
140 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 another use that, if not so important, was at least 
 more popular at the time than all the others put 
 together: namely, the use of one of the Tower 
 courts as a place for wild animals. In fact, the 
 Tower lions were considered one of the great shows 
 of the city, to which all foreign visitors of distinc- 
 tion were at once introduced. 
 
 It will be noticed that the Tower was no longer 
 a place of residence. Whitehall had become the 
 palace, and the fortress of London the principal 
 prison for those guilty of treason. Hence the 
 person in charge was a man of great importance, 
 and upon whose honesty the government must risk 
 great stakes. 
 
 From very early times the Tower had been 
 under the command of a constable. His office was 
 of such power and dignity that Elizabeth thought 
 fit to discontinue it. The constable's duties, how- 
 ever, were in every way performed by the Lieuten- 
 ant, whose office was of almost equal dignity and 
 power. Elizabeth's first election to this important 
 post was Sir Edward Warner, who was deprived of 
 his office in 1562 for conniving at secret meetings 
 between the Earl of Hertford and the Lady 
 Katharine Grey. His successor. Sir Owen Hop- 
 ton, retained his office till 1590, when he gave place 
 to Michael Blount, Esq. Sir Owen's long tenure 
 was not, however, a bed of roses. A series of com- 
 
THE TOWER OF LONDON 141 
 
 plaints preferred against him in 1572 has been 
 already quoted in connection with the Tower 
 wharf. A few more wiU be inserted for the sake 
 of the vivid light they throw upon the customs and 
 usages of the day. 
 
 " That the said Lieutenant showed the wardens 
 that they were perjured if they did not first show 
 him all treasons, conspiracies, and any other like 
 matters that they should know or hear of, before 
 they uttered the same to any of her majesties 
 council. Whereupon he took oath of all such yeo- 
 men as came of late to serve there under him. ' 
 
 "That there should be seven score gunners be- 
 longing to the Tower, whereof there wanted a 
 great number ; and that the most part of them that 
 took wages were unskilful. So that, if the Queen's 
 Majesty should stand in need of servants she should 
 be disappointed and besides that many of them are 
 Papists. 
 
 " That the clerk of the ordnance is a very earnest 
 Papist. 
 
 " That there wanted the most part of such ward- 
 ers as ought to watch and ward and he within 
 the Tower; and the hamlets did neither watch 
 and ward according to their bounden duty. 
 For if the Tower ditch should be frozen, consider- 
 ing there should be no better care taken for the 
 defence of the same, and considering the state of 
 
142 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 the time, and if need should require it it might 
 be in great danger. Wherefore all the yeomen 
 should be commanded to wait and to lie within the 
 Tower every night, for the preservation of the 
 same, seeing the watches of London and St. Kath- 
 arine were not kept as of late, but now most need- 
 ful until this time be past. 
 
 "That they made a common highway with aU 
 manner of carriages, from St. Katharines leading 
 to the Minories: by reason whereof the way is 
 greatly decayed; the banks of the Tower ditch 
 sunken, and the ditch filled with earth and filth, 
 whereas it was wont to be chained between two 
 great posts. And likewise by the Tower Hill there 
 was another chain and two great posts by the Bul- 
 wark gate, for the restraining of all carriages sav- 
 ing only for the Queen. By reason whereof the 
 banks there are greatly decayed and the ditch 
 overcome with earth by the sufferance thereof." 
 
 In the Bell Tower Elizabeth was confined as 
 a prisoner. The Beauchamp Tower was for 
 many years used as the principal prison of state. 
 Here, amongst others of less note, were confined 
 Anne Boleyn, John and Guilford Dudley, sons of 
 the Duke of Northumberland, Lady Jane Grey, 
 Edmund and Arthur Poole, the great-grandsons 
 of George Duke of Clarence, Philip Howard, Earl 
 of Arundel, and many others. Within the Tower 
 
THE TOWER OF LONDON 143 
 
 were executed Anne Boleyn, Katharine Howard, 
 Sir Thomas jMore, Protector Somerset, Lady Jane 
 Grey, and the Earl of Essex. 
 
 The immediate neighbourhood of the Tower was 
 for centuries the constant object of dispute, both 
 the Lord Mayor and the Lieutenant claiming the 
 supreme jurisdiction. That part of the city that 
 bordered the ditch east of the Tower was known 
 by the name of Little Tower Hill; while the high 
 ground adjoining the ditch west of the city wall 
 was known as Great Tower HiU. Here was set 
 up the scaffold for such prisoners as were not 
 condemned to suffer the death penalty privately 
 within the walls. 
 
 As had been hinted in the complaints preferred 
 against Sir Owen Hopton, affairs on Tower Hill 
 were not going to suit the public. In the follow- 
 ing words Stow records the fact of building 
 encroachments, at the same time admitting a ray 
 of light in the character of the houses that were 
 eating up the time-honoured open space about the 
 Tower. 
 
 "For the Tower Hill, as the same is greatly 
 diminished by the building of tenements, and 
 garden plots, etc. So it is of late, to-wit in the 
 year of Christ 1593, on the north side thereof 
 and at the west end of Hog Street, beautified by 
 certain fair alms houses, strongly built of brick 
 
144 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 and timbex', and covered with slate for the poor, 
 by the Merchant Tailors of London, in place of 
 some small cottages given them by Richard Hils, 
 sometime a master of that company, one thousand 
 loads of timber for that use being given by 
 Anthony Radcliffe, of the same society, alderman. 
 In these alms houses, fourteen charitable brethren 
 of the same said Merchant Tailors yet living, have 
 placed fourteen poor sole women, who receive each 
 of them of their founder sixteen pence, or better, 
 weekly besides 81 15s yearly, paid out of the 
 common treasury of the same corporation for 
 fuel." 
 
 From the western side of Great Tower Hill 
 started the important thoroughfares of Thames 
 and Tower Streets; and Barking Alley that ran 
 northward by the church of Allhallows Barking 
 was a favourable place for viewing the public exe- 
 cutions on Tower Hill. Higher up, near the way 
 leading to Aldgate, stood the residence of a very 
 famous Ehzabethan gentleman, John Lumley, 
 Lord Lumley. His house was at the south end of 
 Woodruff Lane, where it joined Tower Hill, and 
 was built by Sir Thomas Wyatt, the father, upon 
 a part of the grounds formerly belonging to the 
 Crossed Friars. 
 
 Stow merely mentions the fact that Lord 
 Lumley's house stood in this neighbourhood, but 
 
THE TOWER OF LONDON 145 
 
 he was a man of sufficient importance to merit 
 more than a passing notice. He was bom about 
 1534, and his father, George Lumley of Thwing 
 in the East Riding of Yorkshire, was attainted of 
 treason in 1537 for taking part in Ask's rebellion. 
 On the death of his grandfather Lord Lumley 
 got possession of the family estates by virtue of 
 an arrangement made before his father's execu- 
 tion, and on petition to ParKament was restored 
 in blood in 154T and created Baron Lumley. 
 
 At Queen's College, Cambridge, he became the 
 friend of Henry Fitz Alan, Lord ]\Ialtravers, 
 whose sister he soon married. In 1553 he was 
 made K. B. At the coronation of ]Mary, his wife, 
 dressed In crimson velvet, sat in the third chariot 
 of state. He was one of the peers who sat in 
 judgment on Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk, and 
 was also present at the condemnation of Dr. Row- 
 land Taylor at St. Sa%-iour's ; and at the accession 
 of Elizabeth was one of the lords appointed to 
 attend her from Hatfield. He was throughout 
 a strong adlierent of Ai'undel and deeply impli- 
 cated in the RidoM plot for the marriage of his 
 brother-in-law, the Duke of Norfolk, to i\Iary 
 Queen of Scots. He was imprisoned for this 
 complicity, and on release at once resumed nego- 
 tiations with the Spanish ambassador in the 
 interests of Mary. He was, however, not con- 
 
146 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 cerned in her efforts to escape and had no sym- 
 pathy with the plots of her adherents against the 
 Kfe of Elizabeth. In 1586 he was one of the 
 commissioners for the trial of Mary. He was at 
 this time the owner of Nonesuch, which he conveyed 
 to Elizabeth in 1590, and in 1591 he entertained 
 her magnificently at Lewes. At first he sided with 
 the unfortunate Essex, but did not go so far as to 
 countenance the insurrection that brought the bril- 
 liant earl to the block. Lord Lumley died at his 
 house on Tower Hill, April 11, 1609. 
 
 He was a man of good parts, a skilful artist, 
 and an ardent lover of learning in all its forms. 
 He had a splendid library, which was bought 
 at his death by the King for Prince Henry, and 
 which eventually passed with other gifts of 
 George III. to the King's Library in the British 
 Museum. 
 
 East of the Tower lay the Hospital of St. 
 Katharine, originally founded as a monastery by 
 Matilda, wife of Stephen. It was then and so 
 continues under the special patronage of the Queen- 
 consort. The site is now^ covered by St. Catharine's 
 Docks and the immediate neighbourhood, the hos- 
 pital itself having been removed to the neighbour- 
 hood of Regent's Park. 
 
 North and east of Little Tower Hill was called 
 East Smithfield, so called to distinguish it from 
 
THE TOWER OF LONDON 147 
 
 West Smithfield near Newgate. It possessed an 
 annual fair of fifteen days' duration, beginning on 
 the eve of Pentecost; but most of the familiar 
 associations connected with the name of Smith- 
 field relate to the market place in the neighbour- 
 hood of Newgate and St. Bartholomew's the 
 Great. 
 
 From the Tower to Aldgate, parallel to the 
 town ditch and only a few yards east of it, was a 
 street that still bears the name of the Minories, 
 commemorative of the site of an abbey of the same 
 name. After the Dissolution the abbey fell into 
 various hands, amongst others, those of Henry, 
 Duke of Suffolk. Soon afterward the abbey 
 buildings were removed and occupied by store- 
 houses for naval goods, workshops, and bakeshops 
 for the supply of bread to the royal navy. 
 
 East of the Minories lay Goodman's Fields, the 
 scene of rapid changes during the latter half of 
 the sixteenth century. The name then applied to 
 the district may stiU be seen upon the map, but 
 the scene which greets the eye of the visitor is huge 
 buildings, railroad tracks, and crowded streets. 
 Far different was it in the days of Elizabeth. It 
 is hard to fancy that then, an arrow, shot from the 
 corner of the Tower of London, would fall in the 
 pastures of the open country. Such, however, was 
 the case. 
 
148 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 " Near adj oining this abbey," writes Stow, 
 " on the south side thereof was sometime a build- 
 ing belonging to the said nunnery; at which 
 farm myself in my youth have fetched many a 
 half penny worth of milk and never had less 
 than three ale pints for a half penny in the 
 summer, nor less than one ale quart for a half 
 penny in the winter, always hot from the kine, 
 as the same was milked and strained. One Trolop, 
 and afterwards Goodman, were the farmers there, 
 and had thirty or forty good kine to the pail. 
 Goodman's son being heir to his father's purchase, 
 let out the ground first for the grazing of horses, 
 and then for garden plots, and lived like a 
 gentleman thereby." 
 
 Northeast of Little Tower Hill was Hog 
 Lane, so called of driving hogs through it to 
 the neighbouring marshes to feed. (It is now 
 called Rosemary Lane.) At the west end were 
 the Merchant Tailors' alms houses already spoken 
 of and erected in the reign of Elizabeth. South- 
 ward from Tower Hill through East Smith- 
 field was Nightinguild (now Nightingale) Lane, 
 which led to a gut or inlet of the Thames where 
 a recluse had once taken up his abode. There is 
 nothing of interest recorded of this place or of 
 its tenant, nor is there any record of the spot ever 
 having been built upon by any religious institu- 
 
THE TOWER OF LONDON 149 
 
 tion. It has, however, for centuries been called 
 the Hermitage, and probably because of its drearjr 
 situation by the riverside was long used as the 
 place of execution for pirates, whose bodies were 
 left there hanging in chains. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE MAIN HIGHWAY 
 
 IN Elizabethan times there was but one con- 
 tinuous passage across London from east to 
 west. It was known throughout this distance by 
 many names, one of which is the name of the 
 most notable street of the city of old and ancient 
 times, namely Cheapside, or West Cheape, as it was 
 originally called. The walk is a long one, more 
 than a mile in length, in places as narrow as of 
 old, everywhere crowded with interesting associa- 
 tions and memorable buildings. Let us traverse 
 it in an orderly and methodical manner, pausing 
 wherever necessary to examine the local habita- 
 tions that have become world famous. 
 
 The present Newgate Street includes what was 
 in Elizabethan times known as Newgate Street (to 
 a short distance beyond Warwick Lane), Newgate 
 Market (to the present King Edward Street), St. 
 Nicholas Shambles (almost to St. Martin le 
 Grand), and Bladder Street (to the junction with 
 Cheapside of to-day). 
 
 This street, or succession of streets, as it should 
 be called, was lined upon both sides with houses 
 
 150 
 
Newgate 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 151 
 
 of substantial build. At the left just beyond the 
 great towered gate, the earliest of all, and which 
 gave the name to the street, was a tavern marked 
 "Ye Swanne" in an interesting map drawn as 
 early as 161T. Next to it on the north side was 
 Goldsmith's Rents, then St. Bartholomew's Brew- 
 house, and "Ye Bridge-House Rents." Between 
 the last two houses was the " Stone Gate " that 
 gave entrance to the dissolved monastery of the 
 Greyfriars, known in Elizabeth's time by the name 
 of Christ's Hospital, and in our own time by the 
 more familiar appellation, the Blue Coat School. 
 From the Stone Gate one could reach both the 
 great and little cloisters or, by turning to the 
 right, the church itself. Just beyond Warwick 
 Lane was another gate directly by the west end 
 of the church. 
 
 The street in this part was divided down the 
 centre by a notable row of buildings much like the 
 Butchers' row that characterised the Strand al- 
 most to our own day, and which served the same 
 purpose and went by the same name. Butchers' 
 Row, or the Shambles, were originally the tiny 
 sheds set up in the midst of the street in days when 
 Cheapside and its continuation in either direction 
 was the principal market of the city. Each kind 
 of vender had his particular neighbourhood al- 
 lotted to him, and the dealers in meat were 
 
152 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 lodged in the Shambles. The origin of the build- 
 ings date back to many years before the time of 
 Elizabeth. By the end of the sixteenth century 
 the old sheds had all disappeared and their place 
 was taken by permanent buildings known as above. 
 The passage to the north of them was familiarly 
 called St. Nicholas Flesh Shambles, or just the 
 Shambles, and the passage south, the Back Side 
 of the Shambles. 
 
 A habit in close connection with the butchering 
 of cattle, namely the sale of bladders, gave rise 
 to the name applied to the next section of the 
 street: Bladder, or more commonly Blowbladder 
 Street, where they were exposed for sale. Stow, 
 always with his amusing attention to details that 
 would seem out of place in Baedeker, but that are 
 of great interest to the student of antiquities, 
 after having spoken of the origin of Blowbladder 
 Street, thus adds a note on the other name by 
 which the rear of the Shambles was known : " Then 
 behind the butchers' shops be now divers slaughter 
 houses inward, and tippling houses outward. This 
 is called Mountgodard street of the tippling houses 
 there, and the goddards mounting from the tap 
 to the table, from the table to the mouth, and 
 sometimes over the head. This street goeth up 
 to the north end of Ivie Lane. 
 
 " Before this Mountgodard street stall boards 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 153 
 
 were of old time set up by the butchers to show 
 and sell their flesh meat upon, over the which stall- 
 boards they first built sheds to keep off^ the weather ; 
 but since that, encroaching by little and little, they 
 have made their stallboards and sheds fair houses, 
 meet for the principal shambles." 
 
 Cheapside is that part of the Main Highway 
 that extended from the east end of Blowbladder 
 Street to the Poultry near the Bank of England. 
 At the junction of the former and Paternoster 
 Row, which bordered St. Paul's on the north, 
 where the statue of Peel now stands, was formerly 
 the church of St. Michael le Querne, against the 
 east wall of which was placed the Little Conduit. 
 This is the first of the four structures that stood 
 in the midst of the street and are perhaps the most 
 often met with locations in the records of old time. 
 At the opposite end of the street was the Great 
 Standard, another public fountain that contrib- 
 uted largely to the water supply of the city. 
 Intermediate between the two stood the Standard 
 and the Cross. 
 
 Almost from time immemorial there was a market 
 in Cheapside. Few persons stop to think that 
 the names which the streets in that vicinity bear 
 to-day are the result of the christening they re- 
 ceived from the customs of this old market of days 
 before the Fire, if not almost before the Flood. The 
 
154, SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 fishmongers, for instance, all stood in a row, hawk- 
 ing fish from their tiny booths, and hence we still 
 walk along Friday Street. Wood Street, Bread 
 Street, Milk Street — they all owe their names to 
 the same origin. As might be expected, the neigh- 
 bourhood of a public market would not be the most 
 splendid part of a great city ; the assertion is both 
 true and untrue of the Elizabethan thoroughfare. 
 At that time the north side was furnished with 
 rather mean-looking houses of the timber gabled 
 variety, set close together, very regular and 
 monotonous in appearance, and occupied by petty 
 dealers with their clumsy booths projecting into 
 the street from the ground floor. The opposite 
 side of the street, however, contained several rows 
 of finer buildings, one of which. Goldsmiths' Row, 
 was considered the most spectacular, the grandest 
 building in the city, rivalled only by the Royal 
 Exchange. 
 
 The taverns in Cheapside were always numer- 
 ous. The Nag's Head was there, and the Mer- 
 maid. Many people are of the opinion that the 
 ]\Iermaid was in Friday Street ; and so it was, yet 
 it is the same tavern as that in Cheapside; the 
 truth of the matter being that it stood back some 
 distance with an approach from three directions, 
 each from a different street ; hence the confusion 
 of allusion. Here gathered those Elizabethan 
 
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THE MAIN HIGHWAY 155 
 
 wits who made it as notable almost as the Apollo, 
 and here was the mind of Keats when he thought 
 of Elysian Fields and good mine host. 
 
 Cheapside was important not only for its mar- 
 ket, but because, being a part of the only con- 
 tinuous passageway across the city, it took part in 
 every pubHc show and civic parade. In fact, to 
 mention a city pageant is to mention Cheapside. 
 Then as now the Lord Mayor always made his 
 progress along Cheapside, as did all royal prog- 
 resses from the Tower to Whitehall on the day 
 of a coronation. On these occasions the street 
 was cleared as well as could be and the surface 
 strewed with fresh gravel. The custom was neces- 
 sary then, because, though paved, it was so poorly 
 paved that it was seldom in the condition for the 
 touch even of a monarch's horse. The custom is 
 still religiously carried out, though no longer neces- 
 sary ; yet this sentimental adherence to an old 
 custom upon Lord Mayor's Day is one of the 
 pleasantest features of the festivity. Seditious 
 books were publicly burned in Cheapside, not for 
 the purpose of advertisement, but for suppression. 
 Prisoners were given painful notoriety by being 
 whipped along Cheapside at the tail of a cart, 
 and royal edicts were proclaimed in this street. No 
 wonder that it is associated more than any other 
 street with the public records of the corporation. 
 
156 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 The water supply of London was mainly drawn 
 from the public fountains in the streets. The 
 tankard-bearers would gather in crowds and wait 
 their turns at the conduit, whence they set out in 
 every direction peddling the pure water that was 
 piped from one place and another. So general 
 was this custom that one of the regularly assumed 
 duties of an indentured apprentice was to fetch 
 water from the conduit. Two of the most impor- 
 tant conduits of the city were in Cheapside; 
 namely, that at the end of St. Michael's Church, 
 and the Great Conduit opposite Mercers' Hall. In 
 appearance the latter was a long low stone build- 
 ing with battlements on the top, enclosing a lead- 
 lined cistern from which the water fell into a 
 square stone basin at the eastern end. The less 
 conspicuous Little Conduit was, however, much 
 more convenient, inasmuch as it had a stream of 
 water flowing from each of three sides. The 
 Standard already mentioned was another fountain 
 which stood opposite the end of Honey Lane. It 
 was by this structure that seditious books were 
 burned and offenders punished. 
 
 Of these four erections in the midst of the street 
 itself, by far the most famous was the Cross. 
 When Queen Eleanor, consort of Edward I. died, 
 her body was brought to be interred at Westmin- 
 ster Abbey. Wherever on the way the body rested 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 157 
 
 her devoted King and husband subsequently erected 
 a stone cross. There were two of these in London. 
 Charing Cross is still standing, but Cheapside 
 Cross has long since disappeared. 
 
 The building of crosses in the olden time was a 
 distinct and important branch of architecture ; and 
 this one of more than usual importance. Not only 
 was it a graceful example of the art, with the 
 Queen's arms and image carved thereon ; it was 
 also used in later times as a place of execution, and 
 the place par excellence for reading public procla- 
 mations. Stow tells us that in the year 1599 "the 
 timber of the cross at the top was rotted within 
 the lead, the arms thereof bending, were feared 
 to have fallen to the harming of some people, and 
 therefore the whole body of the cross was scaf- 
 folded about, and the top thereof taken down, 
 meaning in place thereof to have set up a piramis ; 
 but some of Her Majesty's Honourable Councillors 
 directed their letters to Sir Nicholas Mosely, then 
 Mayor, by her highness's express commandment 
 concerning the cross, forthwith to be repaired and 
 replaced as formerly it stood, &c ; notwithstanding, 
 the cross stood headless more than a year after; 
 whereupon the councillors in great number, mean- 
 ing not any longer to permit the continuance of 
 such a contempt, wrote to WUliam Ryder, then 
 Mayor, and by virtue of her highness's said former 
 
158 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 direction and commandment that, without any 
 further delay. . . . After this a cross of timber 
 was framed, set up, covered with lead, and gilded, 
 the body of the cross downward cleansed of dust, 
 the scaiFold carried thence. About twelve nights 
 following^ the image of Our Lady was again de- 
 faced by plucking oif her crown and almost her 
 head, taking from her her naked child, and stab- 
 bing her in the breast." 
 
 This attack was due to a spirit of opposition that 
 grew up in the later years of Elizabeth's reign. 
 Owing to the fierce religious feeling of the time 
 certain narrow-minded persons took it upon them- 
 selves to stir up the belief that the crosses which 
 adorned certain places were a relic of Popish 
 superstition. No feeling of reverence for age or 
 tradition affected them any more than it did years 
 later when the Puritans rivalled the savages of 
 antiquity in vandalism. The Cheapside cross was 
 almost destroyed by unknown persons on a night in 
 June, 1581, when the images of the Resurrection, 
 the Virgin Mary, Christ, and Edward the Con- 
 fessor were miserably mutilated. It was not re- 
 paired till 1595. Four years later occurred the 
 incident above, and when further improvements 
 were demanded the next year the city went so far 
 as to consult the universities on the propriety of 
 replacing the crucifix. As a result the cross was 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 159 
 
 rebuilt " surmounted with a plain crucifix, but 
 without the dove." 
 
 Just opposite Wood Street was the Goldsmiths' 
 Row, to which allusion has already been made as 
 the most splendid block of houses in London. It 
 should be remembered in connection with this build- 
 ing that banking in the time of Elizabeth had not 
 yet become a separate profession, but was carried 
 on as an avocation by the goldsmiths, who usually 
 kept a shop and sold plate as well. Further refer- 
 ence to this custom is made in connection with 
 Lombard Street in the next chapter, the chief abode 
 of the London bankers. Stow, giving a very minute 
 description of the building, is quoted here, as has 
 been done many times elsewhere in this volume where 
 it is possible to give the words of the interesting 
 historian of the Ehzabethan city to whom we owe 
 so much of our knowledge. 
 
 " Next to be noted, the most beautiful frame of 
 fair houses and shops that be within the walls of 
 London, or elsewhere in England, commonly called 
 Goldsmiths' row, betwixt Bread Street end and the 
 cross in Cheape, but is within this Bread Street 
 ward; the same was built by Thomas Wood, gold- 
 smith, one of the sheriffs of London, in the year 
 1491. It containeth in number ten fair dwelling- 
 houses and fourteen shops, all in one frame, uni- 
 formly built four stories high, beautified towards 
 
160 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 the street with the Goldsmiths' arms and the Hke- 
 ness of woodmen, in memory of his name, riding 
 on monstrous beasts, all which is cast in lead, 
 richly painted over and gilt: these he gave to the 
 Goldsmiths, with stocks of money, to be lent to 
 young men having those shops, &c. This said 
 front was again new painted and gilt over in the 
 year 1594 ; Sir Richard Martin being then mayor, 
 and keeping his mayoralty in one of them, serving 
 out the time of Cuthbert Buckle in that office from 
 the 2nd of July till the 28th of October." 
 
 When the traveller to-day in passing down 
 Cheapside towards the bank pauses to look at the 
 Guildhall he should know in reality what a puzzle 
 is before him. In Elizabethan times the building 
 was not thus visible, but had to be approached by 
 one or the other of two narrow and dirty alleys: 
 Lawrence Lane or Ironmonger's Lane. But the 
 construction of King Street has thus laid bare to 
 Cheapside eyes the heart of London. Yet, is it 
 proper to apply the word heart to an institution 
 whose origin, development, and early function are 
 wholly blank upon the page of history.'' In reality 
 the fa9ade of the Guildhall shrouds a riddle, and 
 one steps through the grand portal into the very 
 mouth of the silent Sphinx. 
 
 In the second chapter of this volume allusion has 
 been made to a distinction between the guilds and 
 
 \ 
 
THE MAI N HIGHWAY 161 
 
 the companies of London. Always in popular 
 estimation, and sometimes in what should be more 
 learned works, the two terms are confused and often 
 treated as synonymous. Nothing has been said 
 heretofore in detail concerning the guilds, because 
 they were all suppressed before the accession of 
 Elizabeth. Their early existence is known, but 
 their early history is not. The fact that as they 
 passed away their affairs in many instances were 
 administered by the city Livery Companies is 
 probably the origin of the confusion of terms. 
 
 To what guild did the Guildhall belong.? That 
 is the Sphinx riddle of London. There are some 
 reasons for the belief that the early governing 
 guild of the city was a sort of cosmopolitan or 
 union guild composed of members of all the 
 others ; perhaps there is even more reason to 
 believe that it was composed of a group of 
 wealthy and aristocratic citizens of great in- 
 fluence who had got possession of the city 
 government. There is little enough in support 
 of either hypothesis. We may even be content to 
 say, with Mr. Lof tie, that the main invincible proof 
 of the guild's existence is to be found in the exist- 
 ence of the Guildhall. There is the Guildhall, 
 there must have been a guild for it to belong to. 
 Yet we may in this connection remember that Jack 
 Cade's father was a bricklayer, a fact Shake- 
 
162 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 speare supports by citing the existence of a chim- 
 ney whose bricks are alive to testify to this day 
 of his skill in laying them. 
 
 However interesting and unprofitable is the his- 
 torical search into the origin of the Guildhall and 
 its early occupants, it is certain that it passed 
 gradually, with the passing of the guilds, into the 
 possession of the city and became its city hall. 
 In it were kept the courts of the corporation, the 
 records, and there were held the great state banquets 
 that were almost the raison d'etre of the ancient 
 guilds and companies. Then, too, at times, the 
 hall was turned into a court of justice on a more 
 pretentious scale. The Earl of Surrey, the poet, 
 was tried in Guildhall, as were Lady Jane Grey 
 and her husband. Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, and 
 the Jesuit Garnet, whose execution took place in 
 Paul's churchyard. 
 
 The two giants, Gog and Magog, that now 
 adorn the great hall, were carved and set up in 
 1708. They are successors, if not copies, of two 
 far more ancient and famous statues that used 
 always to be borne prominently in the civic proces- 
 sions. 
 
 " In 1554, when Philip and Mary made their 
 public entry into London, two images, represent- 
 ing two giants, the one named Corineus and the 
 •other Gogmagog, stood upon London Bridge, hold- 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 163 
 
 ing between them certain flattering Latin verses; 
 and when Elizabeth passed through the city, the 
 day before her coronation (January 12, 1559), 
 these two giants were placed at Temple Bar, 
 holding between them a political recapitulation, 
 in Latin and English, of the pageants that day 
 exhibited." (Fairholt.) "Here (in Guildhall) 
 are to be seen the statues of two giants, said to 
 have assisted the English when the Romans made 
 war upon them ; Corineus of Britain and Gog- 
 magog of Albion. Beneath, upon a table, the 
 titles of Charles V., Emperor, are written in letters 
 of gold." (Hentzner, 1598.) 
 
 Farther down the street is the Mansion House, 
 which now occupies the site of the ancient Stocks 
 Market. We are still in the neighbourhood of 
 the ancient Cheapside market place, but this name 
 comes rather from the stocks that were placed there 
 for the punishment of offenders than from any 
 commodity for sale, as is the case in so many other 
 place-names of this part of the city. It was for 
 years a place of punishment by the stocks, which 
 instrument of torture was situated in the middle 
 of the street, so that the culprit could be made to 
 suffer the ordeal of exposure to a greater con- 
 course of people. The market-house which was 
 there in Elizabethan times was let out to butchers 
 and fishmongers, the rent being applied to the 
 
164. SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 repair and maintenance of London Bridge. It 
 was rebuilt on a larger and more substantial scale 
 at the beginning of the sixteenth century, with 
 twenty-five stalls for fishmongers, eighteen for 
 butchers, and sixteen chambers above. In the time 
 of Elizabeth a stone conduit stood near the stocks, 
 that came into existence as a result of the follow- 
 ing petition to the Lord Mayor: 
 
 " Beseeching your Lordship and Masterships, 
 the inhabitants dwelling about the Stocks, that by 
 the space of five or six years past, a vent of water 
 hath run by a pipe of lead beside the Stocks, which 
 pipe of lead by reason that it is not closed, is 
 daily hurt with horses and carts : It may therefore 
 please your good Lordship and Masterships, and all 
 our masters of the Common Council, to grant and 
 give licence unto the said inhabitants, upon their 
 own proper costs and charges to make or cause to be 
 made, a little postern or stone with a cistern of 
 lead therein : so that the said water shall be therein 
 preserved and conveyed: and so be drawn out with 
 cocks to the common weale of all the said inhabi- 
 tants therein dwelling. Thus at the reverence of 
 God, and in the way of charity." 
 
 In aU probability the Royal Exchange, which 
 fronted upon Comhill, was the most conspicuous 
 building next to St. Paul's of which London could 
 boast. Sir Thomas Gresham, its founder, was a 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 165 
 
 goldsmith who kept a shop in Lombard Street, and 
 who also did a private banking business. He was, 
 in fact, a man of note above most of his contempo- 
 raries, and probably did more towards the greatness 
 of Elizabethan England than any other person 
 except Lord Burghley. Gresham's genius was 
 early recognised, and he was made the Queen's min- 
 ister of finance. His duties in this ofiice took him 
 frequently to Flanders, and it was from the example 
 of the Antwerp Bourse that he conceived the idea 
 of a similar institution for London. Before that 
 time the city merchants were used to meet in the 
 open streets, in all sorts of weather, to transact 
 their business. They eagerly welcomed the sug- 
 gestion of Gresham, and helped him to put his plan 
 into execution. Stow, in the following words, de- 
 scribes the preparation of the site: 
 
 " Then next is the Royal Exchange, erected in 
 the year 1566, after this order, namely certain 
 houses upon Cornhill, and the like upon the back 
 thereof, in the ward of Broad Street, with three 
 alleys, the first called Swan Alley, opening into 
 Cornhill, the second New Alley, passing through- 
 out of CornhiU into Broad Street Ward, over 
 against St. Bartholomew Lane, the third St. Chris- 
 topher's Alley, opening into Broad Street Ward 
 and into St. Christopher's parish, containing in all 
 four score households, were first purchased by the 
 
166 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 citizens of London for more than three thousand 
 five hundred and thirty-two pounds, and were sold 
 for four hundred and seventy-eight pounds, to 
 such persons as should take them down and carry 
 them thence ; also the ground or plot was made 
 plain at the charges of the city ; and then the pos- 
 session thereof was by certain aldermen, in name 
 of the whole citizens, given to Sir Thomas Gresham, 
 Knight, agent to the Queen's highness, thereupon 
 to build a bourse, or place for merchants to assem- 
 ble at his own proper charges. And he, on the 7th 
 of June, laying the first stone of the foundation, 
 being brick, accompanied with some aldermen, 
 every one of them laid a piece of gold, which the 
 workmen took up, and forthwith followed upon the 
 same with such diligence, that by the month of No- 
 vember, 1567, the same was covered with slate, and 
 shortly after fully finished." 
 
 This building was in the form of a quadrangle 
 with a large interior court with huge arched en- 
 trances from north and south. On the outside of the 
 north entrance was a tall Corinthian column, topped 
 with a grasshopper, the crest of the Greshams. It 
 is interesting to note that the existence of this im- 
 mense column, which must have towered above its 
 surroundings much as the Monument does at pres- 
 ent, is recorded nowhere except in a contemporary 
 print of the building. It is barely possible that 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 167 
 
 the picture alluded to is from the architect's design 
 and that the column was never actually set in place. 
 Within the quadrangle was an arched walk or 
 cloister with a double row of shops, one above the 
 other. In niches over the cloister were arranged 
 statues of the kings and queens of England, from 
 Edward the Confessor to Elizabeth. 
 
 The opening of the Exchange was an occasion 
 of great festivity, the Queen attending the cere- 
 mony in great state. Gresham's hope of remuner- 
 ation, for the Exchange was built at his own 
 expense, was based upon the shops lining the quad- 
 rangle. "A little before her majesty, attended 
 with her nobility, came from her house at the 
 Strand, called Somerset House, and entered the 
 city by Temple Bar, through the Fleet Street, 
 Cheape, and so by the north side of the bourse, 
 through Thread Needle Street, to Sir Thomas 
 Gresham's house in Bishopgate Street, where she 
 dined. After dinner, her Majesty, returning 
 through Comhill, entered the Bourse on the south 
 side; and after she had viewed every part thereof 
 above ground, especially the pawn, which was fur- 
 nished with all sorts of the finest wares in the city, 
 she caused the same bourse, by a herald and trum- 
 pets to be proclaimed the 'Royal Exchange,' and 
 so to be called thenceforth and not othervvise." 
 (Stow.) 
 
168 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 " After the Royal Exchange, which is now 
 [1631] called the Eye of London, had been builded 
 two or three years, it stood in a manner empty ; 
 and a little before her Majesty was to come thither 
 to view the beauty thereof, and to give it a name, 
 Sir Thomas Gresham, in his own person, went, 
 twice in one day, round the upper pawn, and be- 
 sought those few shopkeepers then present that 
 they would furnish, and adorn with wares and wax 
 lights as many shops as they either could or would, 
 and they should have all those shops so furnished 
 rent free for that year, which otherwise at that 
 time was 40s a shop by the year; and within two 
 years after he raised the rent unto four marks a 
 year; and within a year after that he raised his 
 rent of every shop unto £4 :10s a year, and then all 
 shops were well furnished according to that time; 
 for then the milliners or haberdashers in that place 
 sold mouse-traps, bird-caps, shoe-horns, lanthorns, 
 and Jews-trumps, etc. There were also at that 
 time that kept shops in the upper pawn of the 
 Royal Exchange, armourers that sold both old and 
 new armour, apothecaries, booksellers, gold-smiths, 
 and glass-sellers." (Howes.) 
 
 For a while everything in the Exchange went 
 well, except that the lower range of shops was al- 
 ways unpopular. Strype says that " the rent of the 
 shops here brought in considerable gains to Sir 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 169 
 
 Thomas Gresham the builder. And about five or 
 six years after the shops were all furnished with 
 wares, Gresham constrained all the shopkeepers 
 that had shops above to take shops below in the 
 lowest vaults of the Exchange, where was an equal 
 number of shops to those above. At which time 
 every one paid four marks a year for every shop 
 above ; and he would have as much rent for every 
 shop below or else they should not have a shop above. 
 But after they had kept shop below a little while, 
 what with the damp of the vault, the darkness of 
 the place, and the unwillingness of the customers 
 to buy their wares there, they were so wearied, that 
 they agreed among themselves to give 4Z a year for 
 a shop above, so that they might be freed from 
 keeping shop below; and so Sir Thomas should 
 turn the vault to such other use as he would, either 
 for merchants' goods, or otherwise. Which offer 
 he accepted; and so the tenants only furnished the 
 shops above. . . . And the vaults have been 
 used now a long time for the stowage of merchan- 
 dises, and chiefly pepper." 
 
 The great beU of the Exchange used to ring at 
 noon and at six in the evening, when the merchants 
 would assemble to consult, bargain, and arrange 
 affairs. The Exchange, however, must not be 
 looked upon as a place of meeting for a collection 
 of sober and sedate city fathers ; for, though given 
 
170 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 up twice a day to mercantile transactions on a large 
 scale, the real character of the Exchange was that 
 of a bazaar filled with petty shops, a permanent 
 Bartholomew Fair, so to speak. The quadrangle 
 and its occupants reminded one of the Globe 
 Theatre and its pit, full of disorders, petty- 
 hawkers, and graduates of the cut-purse school. 
 
 " On Sundays and Holy days the Exchange was 
 enlivened during a portion of the year with the 
 music of the city waits, who were ordered by the 
 Court of Aldermen (April, 1572), to play on their 
 instruments as they had hitherto been accustomed, 
 at the Royal Exchange, from seven o'clock till eight 
 o'clock in the evening up to the Feast of Pentecost, 
 after which they were to commence playing at eight 
 P. M., and 'to hold on' till nine P. M., up to Mi- 
 chaelmas. There is another circumstance con- 
 nected with the same building that deserves a pass- 
 ing notice, which is that football used to be played 
 within its walls, a game forbidden in 1576 to be 
 played any longer there or in any of the city's 
 wards." (Sharpe I. 502.) 
 
 When one reads with what haste the original 
 building was erected one is not surprised to find it 
 in constant need of repair. The following quaint 
 "presentment" sets forth its condition less than 
 fifteen years after it was completed : 
 
 " In most humble wise beseech your Lordships 
 

 
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 W o 
 
 S3 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 171 
 
 and worships, we the wardmote enquest of the ward 
 abovesaid, that whereas of long time the upper part 
 or arches of the Royal Exchange, being on the 
 south west and southern parts thereof within the said 
 ward, whereunto the merchants do commonly re- 
 sort, have access, and do walk, being the charge of 
 reparation on [the] parte of the Lady Gresham to 
 be done, hath byn and is greatly by the insufficiency 
 of the workmanship thereof, and want of good stuif 
 greatly defective and very perilous to the walkers 
 thereunder. In such as the main freestones of the 
 arches thereof have fallen, and a great part of the 
 same arches are ready to fall, to the great danger 
 of the lives of persons young and old, daily walking 
 thereunder and resorting to the same Exchange. 
 And whereas at a certain grate belonging to the 
 like charge of the Lady Gresham, being right over 
 against the south of the said Royal Exchange, in 
 the middle of the street, and common passage 
 thereof, is a great hole which of long time hath so 
 continued to the great danger and hurt, and loss of 
 Hfe and limb, and maiming both of men and beasts, 
 and other common passers thereby — as namely, the 
 foot of a horse slipped lately therein, a man being 
 on horseback, to the great danger of the horse-leg, 
 and of the leg of the man by the fall of the horse. 
 Since which an ox-leg fell therein and was broke in 
 two. So it is right honourable that divers of the 
 
172 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 inhabitants of the said ward hath certified the same 
 to the keeper of the Exchange, to certify it to the 
 Lady Gresham, yet no reformation or consideration 
 had thereof. May it therefore please your lordship 
 and worships the premises tenderly considered of 
 your goodness to take such speedy order therein as 
 that the said arches and hole may be presently and 
 out of hand amended, otherwise it will turn to the 
 hurt and spoil of many." (To the Lord Mayor 
 and Aldermen. 1581.) 
 
 It is almost needless to add that the original 
 building was destroyed in the great fire, and its suc- 
 cessor from the same cause in 1838. Though some- 
 what foreign to our particular subject, it is interest- 
 ing to note that the only remnant of the original 
 structure to survive both fires is the statue of 
 Gresham. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE MAIN HIGHWAY (Continued) 
 
 THE name of the thoroughfare that we have 
 been traversing throughout the preceding 
 chapter changed again at Gracechurch Street, east 
 of which it was called Leadenhall Street, after the 
 principal building upon it. There is much con- 
 fusion in the pages of Stow concerning the early 
 history of the Leaden Hall and Chapel. Later 
 researches, however, establish the fact that it be- 
 longed to the city as long ago as the beginning of 
 the fourteenth century. It was then, and continued 
 almost to our own day to be, the great market for 
 poultry brought into London from the outside. It 
 may be doubted, however, whether the hall itself 
 was ever actually given up to the poulterers. In 
 1445 Simon Eyre*, a draper and also mayor of 
 London, erected a granary on the site at his own 
 expense for the common use of the city. This is 
 the building that is described by Stow as in exist- 
 ence in Elizabethan times. It had a chapel on the 
 
 *One of the characters in Dekker's Shoemaker's Holii 
 173 
 
174. SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 east side dedicated to the Holy Trinity, that was 
 not taken down till 1812. However great the con- 
 fusion of Stow between the manor and the hall of 
 Leadenhall, we may trust the following account of 
 what come within his own observation : 
 
 " The use of Leadenhall in my youth was thus : — 
 In a part of the north quadrant, on the east side of 
 the north gate, were the common beams for the 
 weighing of wool and other wares, as had been ac- 
 customed; on the west side of the gate were the 
 scales to weigh meal; the other three sides were 
 reserved for the most part to the making and rest- 
 ing of the pageants showed at the Midsummer 
 Watch ; the remnant of the sides and quadrants was 
 employed for the stowage of woolsacks, but not 
 closed up ; the lofts above were partly used by the 
 painters in working for the decking of pageants 
 and other devices, for beautifying of the watch and 
 watchmen; the residue of the lofts were letten out 
 to merchants, the woolwinders and packers therein 
 to wind and pack their wool." 
 
 The next object of interest, namely the Church 
 of St. Andrew Undershaft, is important mainly in 
 connection with the name of John Stow. The last 
 chapter ended with a note upon the most impor- 
 tant financial figure of the age ; but a stone's throw 
 further down the same thoroughfare is the church 
 where lies buried the other most famous Elizabethan 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 175 
 
 of whom memories live upon the Main Highway. 
 The reader may have already asked the question 
 why John Stow of aU others should have furnished 
 so many of the quotations that embellish the pres- 
 ent volume. There is but one answer. He no t 
 onl y wrote more about, but is almo st thp only con- 
 temporar y writer upon Elizabethan London . In 
 fact, his famous Survey of London is the Bae- 
 deker of the day, full, complete, crammed with little 
 topographical details and descriptions of manners 
 and customs. It is the one book to which all 
 students of the Elizabethan city must go for much 
 of their material. 
 
 John Stow, himself a tailor and son of a tailor, 
 was born in Cornhill in the parish of St. Michael, 
 1525. His father, who followed his trade in this 
 street, was opulent enough to possess a garden in 
 Throckmorton Street near the Drapers' Hall, to 
 which he could withdraw for recreation. When 
 John Stow moved from CornhiU is not known, but 
 in the year 1549 he was dweUing near the well 
 within Aldgate, the bailiiF of Rumford having been 
 " executed upon the pavement of my door where I 
 then kept house." Afterward he moved into Lime 
 Street Ward and dwelt in the parish of St. Andrew 
 tin his death. 
 
 Stow loved the ancient in reUgion, Strype tells 
 us, as well as the ancient in history, and he became. 
 
176 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 therefore, a suspected man. In 1568 his library 
 was searched, and many books were found that 
 related to Papistry. What resulted from this 
 search we do not know, but two years later he was 
 tried before the Ecclesiastical Commissioners ; the 
 charges against him were all false, and he escaped 
 punishment. 
 
 " He was tall of stature," says Edmond Howes, 
 his literary executor, "lean of body and face, his 
 eyes small and chrystaline, of a pleasant and cheer- 
 ful countenance ; his sight and memory very good ; 
 very sober, mild, and courteous to any that required 
 his instructions ; and retained the true use of all his 
 senses unto the day of his death, being of an excel- 
 lent memory. He always protested never to have 
 written anything either for malice, fear, or favour, 
 nor to seek his own particular gain or vain glory; 
 and that his only pains and care was to write truth. 
 He could never ride, but travelled on foot to divers 
 cathedral churches, and other chief places of the 
 land, to search records. He was very careless of 
 scoffers, backbiters, and detractors. He lived 
 peacefully, and died of the stone collick, being four 
 score years of age, and was buried the 8th of April, 
 1605, in his parish church of St. Andrew Under- 
 shaft ; whose mural monument neere unto his grave 
 was there set up at the charges of Elizabeth, his 
 wife." 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 177 
 
 About 1560 Stow began to collect the antiqua- 
 rian information that has made his name a by-word 
 among historical students. His first book was the 
 brief Summary of the Chronicles, in which he at- 
 tempted and nearly achieved the task of bringing 
 order out of the chaos of ancient historical records. 
 The book first appeared in 1561, but was soon fol- 
 lowed by an enlarged edition. The year 1598 saw 
 the first edition of the Survey of London, and 1600, 
 the Annals of English history. 
 
 Stow hardly needs a word of praise, nor is there 
 need of any insistence on his value as a writer con- 
 cerning the manners of the EHzabethan age. He 
 spent forty years in indefatigable research among 
 original sources, spending his patrimony in the 
 purchase of books and manuscripts. In his old age 
 he became ill and feeble, and a great sufferer from 
 the gout. It is a crying shame to London that, 
 when her great historian lay sick and stricken with 
 poverty, she turned a deaf ear to his petition for a 
 pension. He had " spent his patrimony and the 
 best part of his estate in those studies and labours, 
 useful to the city, and to the English nation, though 
 not to himself." At the city's refusal to grant him 
 help, he must needs fall back upon the King. James 
 under his own hand and seal acknowledged that 
 "John Stow, citizen of London, having, for the 
 good of the Commonwealth,, and Posterity to come. 
 
178 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 employed all his Industry and Labour to commit to 
 the History of Chronicles, all such things worthy 
 of remembrance, as from time to time happened 
 within this whole Realm, for the space of five and 
 forty years, until Christmas last past (as by divers 
 large and brief Chronicles of his writing may ap- 
 pear) besides his great pain and charges in writing 
 his book, called his Survey of London, wherein he 
 spent eight years searching ancient records con- 
 cerning the Antiquities both for London and South- 
 wark, etc ; " and in reward for his great labour the 
 despicable pedant from Scotland granted his " loyal 
 subject" a licence to beg. But, as Strype says, 
 Stow's memory has outlived that. Surely the in- 
 heritance in the good will of posterity possessed by 
 the humble student of the city's lore, honest and 
 upright as he was, is more to be envied than that of 
 the first of the English house of Stuart, albeit he 
 was a King. Stow died at the age of eighty, April 
 6, 1605, leaving a name now endued with a full 
 share of reverence and respect. 
 
 This Survey of London is an immortal book. 
 It appeared first, as has been said, in 1598, and soon 
 went into a new and enlarged edition. At regular 
 intervals it was republished, " with additions " by 
 one editor after another. Each new issue preserved 
 the same form and arrangement as the old, but with 
 increased number of documents and other illustra- 
 
THE MAIN H IGHWAY 179 
 
 tions of the places and customs described. The last 
 edition under such a name was that of Strype in 
 1720, published at London in two huge folio vol- 
 umes, embellished with numerous engravings. The 
 later issues of the book, however, are of little use 
 to the reader whose mind is set upon Elizabethan 
 London; for such a man as Strype, for instance, 
 does not always make it clear to whom the personal 
 pronoun relates. Thus I in one paragraph may 
 mean Stow, in the next Strype. And furthermore, 
 though called Stow's Survey, all the pictures and 
 most of the descriptions apply to the time of the 
 editor rather than of the original writer. In more 
 recent times, however, the value of the work as 
 written by Stow himself has been recognised. In 
 addition to a cheap reprint of the original form, a 
 carefully collated text of the two editions pub- 
 lished during the lifetime of the author was 
 published in London in 1876 under the able 
 editorship of William J. Thorns. 
 
 It Ja-fc p the Survey that people must go t oget 
 
 tho ynngt flnthpnfif dpspriptinn of the citj of that 
 
 day. To be sure, the book is not altogether ade- 
 quate. In the first place it is loaded down with 
 gloomy lists of the burials and monuments of every 
 church in London and much antiquarian informa- 
 tion of past ages. Stow, as were all of the prose 
 writers of the time, was a man who could not 
 
180 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 wield the pen with accuracy, to say nothing of 
 grace. Then, too, he has his likes and his dislikes. 
 He does not care for theatres, and one who is 
 interested in the Elizabethan drama is disappointed 
 to find that a bare allusion to two of them and a 
 passing note of the Bear Garden is all that the 
 strait-laced old antiquary has to say concerning 
 these evil institutions to which as a loyal citizen 
 of London he was bound to hold a grudge. Yet 
 in spite of all this. Stow is still Stow for all time. 
 His name is immortal, and the place where rests 
 his ashes is consecrated ground. Let us thank 
 the muse of topographical history that he lived 
 and died before the record-blotting Puritan rose 
 to play vandal in his might. 
 
 Duke's Place was near Aldgate, on the north 
 side of the street where formerly stood one of the 
 great religious institutions within the walls: 
 namely, the Priory of the Holy Trinity, founded 
 by Matilda, Queen of Henry I. It managed to 
 pass into the possession of the Duke of Norfolk, 
 and thus got the name by which it was known at 
 the end of the century. Stow tells us that it was 
 a very fair and large church, rich in lands and 
 ornaments, and passed all the priories in the city 
 of London or the shire of Middlesex. It was for 
 a while a place of great merriment and state. " I 
 find the said Duke," relates Strype, " anno, 1562, 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 181 
 
 with his duchess riding thither through Bishops- 
 gate Street to Leadenhall, and so to Cree Church 
 to his own place; attended with 100 horse in his 
 livery, with his gentlemen afore, their coats 
 guarded with velvet ; and four heralds riding 
 before him, viz., Clarenceux, Somerset, Red Cross, 
 and Blue mantle." When the duke was beheaded 
 his son sold the mansion-house and priory precincts 
 that had come into the family through his mother. 
 Land was valuable, and there happened what often 
 happened after the wholesale spohation of the 
 monasteries, most of the buildings were taken 
 down and the material used for building. Pardon 
 Churchyard north of St. Paul's had thus been 
 turned into use by the Duke of Somerest. Much 
 of the great Reading monastic buildings were 
 turned into road metal; and we learn from Stow 
 the use to which the destroyed buildings of the 
 Holy Trinity were put. 
 
 "For the workmen, with great labour, begin- 
 ning at the top, loosed stone from stone, and 
 threw them down, whereby the most part of them 
 were broken, and few remained whole; and those 
 were sold very cheap, for all the buildings then 
 made about the city were of brick and timber. At 
 that time any man in the city might have a cart- 
 load of hard stone for paving brought to his door 
 for six-pence or seven-pence, with the carriage. 
 
182 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 The said Thomas Lord Audley built and dwelt on 
 this priory during his life, and died there in the 
 year 154)4 ; since the which time the said priory 
 came by marriage of the Lord Audley's daughter 
 and heir unto Thomas, late Duke of Norfolk, and 
 was then called Duke's place." 
 
 In the slight representation of this place con- 
 tained in Aggas's map of London, drawn towards 
 the end of the sixteenth century, we find how ex- 
 tensive had been the alterations and how generally 
 the place had been changed from the appearance 
 and character of a great monastic institution. It 
 was triangular in shape^ enclosed by several 
 buildings, extending from a square embattled gate 
 leading into the churchyard of St. Catharine 
 Christ Church, to Aldgate, where they form a 
 rounded wall. Within the space behind the church 
 are several large edifices, with gardens beyond, 
 leaving a long narrow lane between it and the city 
 wall. Another embattled gate leads into the gar- 
 dens, and the portion of the triangle next the 
 Aldgate is cut off by a wall that encloses some 
 small buildings and a garden. The south gate 
 of the priory was in existence for a long time and 
 forms the subject of one of Wilkinson's engrav- 
 ings. 
 
 Aldgate stood at the north-east corner of the 
 city just beyond Duke's Place (the present Duke 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 183 
 
 Street) and Poor Jewry Lane (the present Jewry 
 Street), while the church of St. Botolph was just 
 outside the gate. The gate was so called, say 
 most historians, because of its antiquity. It was 
 the custom in olden times to rent some of the 
 gates as private dwelling-houses ; according to 
 which practice we learn that in 1374 Aldgate was 
 leased for life to Geoffrey Chaucer. "This is 
 one of the four principal gates," says Stow, " and 
 also one of the seven double gates mentioned by 
 Fitzstephen. It hath had two pair of gates, though 
 now but one ; the hooks remaineth yet. Also there 
 hath been two port closes: and one of them re- 
 maineth: but the place of letting down is mani- 
 fest." This gate was removed in 1606. At Aid- 
 gate Elizabeth, accompanied by two thousand horse, 
 met Queen Mary in greeting at the time of her 
 pubHc entry to London before her coronation 
 in 1553. 
 
 In Aldgate Street, a short distance within the 
 wall, was a pump that long enjoyed a reputation 
 for the sweetness of its water. It stood at the 
 junction of Fenchurch Street near where the gib- 
 bet was sometimes erected. Close to the pump 
 and beneath the houses separating Aldgate and 
 Fenchurch Streets was the chapel or crypt of St. 
 Michael, built about 1110. It has been suggested 
 that this as well as several other houses of wor- 
 
184 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 ■ship owed their subterranean location to the grad- 
 ual rise in level of the street surface due to re- 
 peated fires and rebuilding in the history of the 
 city. 
 
 The street beyond the gate as far as White- 
 chapel was called Aldgate High Street. It con- 
 tained an inn, the Pye without Aldgate, in which 
 plays were occasionally acted, though it was not 
 one of the inns constantly used for that purpose. 
 Other inns in the same street were the Three Nuns, 
 the Bull, and the Saracen's Head. East of the 
 church of St. Botolph there were " certain fair 
 inns for receipt of travellers repairing to the city, 
 up towards Hog Lane end, somewhat within the 
 bars, a mark showing how far the liberties of the 
 city do extend. 
 
 " This Hog Lane stretcheth north toward St. 
 Mary Spitle without Bishopsgate, and within these 
 forty years had on both sides fair hedge rows of 
 elm trees, with bridges and easy stiles to pass over 
 into the pleasant fields, very commodious for citi- 
 zens therein to walk, shoot, and otherwise to rec- 
 reate and refresh their dull spirits in the sweet 
 and wholesome air, which is now within a few 
 years made a continual building throughout, of 
 garden-houses and small cottages; and the fields 
 on either sides be turned into garden-plots, tenter 
 yards, bowling alleys, and such Uke, from Houndes 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 185 
 
 ditch in the west, as far as White Chappell, and 
 further towards the east." (Stow.) 
 
 There was on the south side not far from the 
 gate a conduit erected in 1535, Sir John Allen 
 being mayor at the time. Strype's account of the 
 difficulty met with in the use of this conduit and its 
 reparation affords a graphic picture of one of 
 the customary sights of the day. 
 
 " Here I may not omit to tell you, that, although 
 this water conduit was very beneficial to the people 
 inhabiting there round about, yet in regard to 
 the situation, being upon the street's south side, 
 and immediately descending down many steps or 
 stairs of stone, it was troublesome to the poor 
 people fetching water there, in coming up laden 
 with their tubs, pails, and Tankards. Besides, until 
 the turn of each party came by order and due 
 course, their tankards, tubs, and pails, did greatly 
 pester the passage about, and through the gate, 
 endangering divers personal harms, and other 
 great inconveniences which since then, at the 
 taking down of the old gate, that a new might be 
 bullded in the same place, is exceedingly commend- 
 ably amended, to the city's honour, their credit that 
 had care for disposing of the work, and the great 
 ease of the poor water bearers, and all passengers. 
 For now there is a fair spacious court, wherein all 
 the tankards and other vessels orderly stand (with- 
 
186 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 out any annoyance to the street), and the descent 
 to the conduit is made very convenient, free from 
 offending one another in their labour, the passage 
 to and fro is so aptly ordered, and the room so 
 large for their attendance." 
 
 Northwest from Aldgate, following the line of 
 the wall towards Bishopsgate, was Houndsditch. 
 
 "From Aldgate, north-west to Bishopsgate, 
 lieth the ditch of the city called Houndsditch; for 
 that in old time, when the same lay open, much filth 
 (conveyed forth of the city), especially dead dogs, 
 were there laid or cast; wherefore of latter time 
 a mud wall was made, inclosing the ditch, to keep 
 out the laying of such filth as had been accustomed. 
 Over against this mud wall, on the other side of the 
 street, was a fair field, sometime belonging to the 
 priory of the Trinity, and since by Sir Thomas 
 Audley given to Magdalen college in Cambridge: 
 this field (as all other about the city) was inclosed, 
 reserving open passage thereinto for such as were 
 disposed. Towards the street were some small cot- 
 tages, of two stories high, and little garden-plots 
 backward, for poor bed-rid people, for in that 
 street dwelt none other, built by some prior of 
 the Holy Trinity, to whom that ground belonged. 
 
 "In my youth, I remember, devout people, as 
 well as men and women of this city, were accus- 
 tomed oftentimes, especially on Fridays, weekly 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 187 
 
 to walk that way purposely there to bestow their 
 charitable alms; every poor man or woman lying 
 in their bed within their window, which was towards 
 the street, open so low that every man might see 
 them, a clean linen cloth lying in their window, 
 and a pair of beads, to show that there lay a 
 bedrid body, unable but to pray only. This street 
 was first paved in the year 1503. 
 
 " About the latter reign of Henry VIII., three 
 brethren that were gunfounders, surnamed Owens, 
 got grounds there to build upon, and to inclose for 
 casting of brass ordinance. These occupied a good 
 part of the street on the field side, and in a short 
 time divers others also built there, so that the poor 
 bed-rid people were worn out, and, in place of their 
 homely cottages, such houses built as do rather 
 want room then rent ; which houses be for the most 
 part possessed by brokers, sellers of old apparel, 
 and such like. The residue of the field was for the 
 most part made into a garden by a gardener 
 named Cawsway, one that served the markets with 
 herbs and roots ; and in the last year of King Ed- 
 ward VI. the same was parcelled into gardens, 
 wherein are now many fair houses of pleasure built. 
 
 "On the ditch side of this street the mud wall 
 is also by little and little all taken down, the bank 
 of the ditch being raised, made level ground, and 
 turned into garden-plots and carpenter's yards. 
 
188 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 and many large houses are there built; the filth 
 of which houses, as also the earth cast out of their 
 vaults, is turned into the ditch, by which means 
 the ditch is filled up, and both the ditch and 
 wall so hidden that they cannot be seen of the 
 passers by." 
 
 The prolongation of Aldgate High Street east 
 of the bars was called Whitechapel. "Also with- 
 out the bars both sides of the street be pestered 
 with cottages and alleys, even up to Whitechapel 
 Church, and almost half a mile beyond it into the 
 open field, all which ought to be open and free to 
 all men. But this common field, I say, being 
 sometime the beauty of this city on that part, is 
 so encroached upon by buildings of filthy cottages, 
 and other purpressors, inclosures, and lay stalls, 
 (notwithstanding all proclamations and acts of 
 Parliament made to the contrary), that in some 
 places it scarce remaineth a sufficient highway for 
 the meeting of carriages and droves of cattle; 
 much less is there any fair, pleasant, or wholesome 
 way for people to walk on foot ; which is no small 
 blemish to so famous a city to have so unsavoury 
 and unseemly an entrance or passage thereunto." 
 (Stow.) 
 
 In proceeding eastward along CornhiU and 
 LeadenhaU we have omitted to mention Lombard 
 Street, which is south of and forming a sharp 
 
THE MAIN HIGHWAY 189 
 
 angle to Cornhill. From the earliest times this 
 street was the residence of all kinds of merchants, 
 but especially the goldsmiths and money lenders. 
 Price records the names of about seventy gold- 
 smiths living in Lombard Street during the reign 
 of EKzabeth, among whom was Gresham, the 
 builder of the Royal Exchange. 
 
 In those days every shop had its sign, and the 
 following, most of them goldsmiths' signs, were 
 to be found in Lombard Street: Sun, Flower de 
 Luce, Rose, Three Tuns, Mermaid, Plough, Blue 
 Anchor, Black Lyon, Flying Horse, Morocco's 
 Head, Red Cross, Spotted Dog, Feathers, Three 
 Lions, Cup and Crown, Bible and Crown, Cock, 
 Globe and Anchor, Hand in Glove, Oxford Arms, 
 Royal Oak, Castle, Cradle, Hare and Crown, 
 Golden Anchor, Phcenix, Hat and Harrow, White 
 Swan, Queen's Head and Sun, Artichoke, Bellows 
 and Ball, Adam and Eve, Unicorn. 
 
 At the corner of Mark Lane and Fenchurch 
 Street, the continuation of Lombard Street, was 
 Blanch Apleton, where hved Alderman Billingsley, 
 the first translator of Euclid into English : " Said 
 Blanch Apleton was granted by the king to be 
 inclosed and shut up. This Blanch Apleton was a 
 manor belonging to Sir Thomas Roos of Home- 
 lake, knight, the 7th of Richard II., standing at 
 the north-east corner of Mart lane, so called of a 
 
190 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 privilege sometime enjoined to keep a mart there, 
 long since discontinued, and therefore forgotten, 
 so as nothing remaineth for memory but the name 
 of Mart lane, and that corruptly termed Marke 
 lane. I read that, in the third of Edward IV., all 
 basket-makers, wire-drawers, and other foreigners, 
 were permitted to have shops in this manor of 
 [Blanch Apleton, and not elsewhere, within this 
 city or suburbs thereof." (Stow.) 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 NORTH OF CHEAPSIDE 
 
 rilHIS chapter contains the description of a 
 -^ few scattered streets and places of interest 
 that lie north of the main route just described. 
 At the west end of Cheapside Saint Martins le 
 Grand runs north between the buildings of the 
 general post-office. The street takes its name from 
 a collegiate church and sanctuary, the grounds of 
 which are now covered by the post-office. It was 
 founded in the eleventh century, and, though within 
 the walls of the city, was a liberty to itself over 
 which the corporation tried in vain to gain con- 
 trol. Prisoners on their way to execution from 
 Newgate to Tower Hill often attempted to escape 
 when they passed the end of the street, and claim 
 sanctuary in the church. St. Martin's was one 
 of the chief churches of the city, and Its bell in 
 mediaevel times tolled the curfew which was the 
 signal to close the city gates. At the Dissolution 
 of the religious houses the college was demolished, 
 and, because of its former privilege of sanctuary, 
 a kind of Alsatia grew up upon the site, mainly 
 inhabited by "strangers bom," i.e., foreignerr 
 
 191 
 
192 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 either In the hteral sense of the word, or as those 
 not having the freedom of the city. Their prin- 
 cipal vocation was the manufacture of all sorts of 
 counterfeit ware, the true ancestors of those who 
 " set in " old marks upon new pieces of silver 
 plate. Another article sold there, or probably its 
 counterfeit imitation, is alluded to in Westward 
 Ho, (1607). "You must to the Pawn (Ex- 
 change) to buy lawn; to St. Martin's for lace." 
 In Elizabeth's time there were many tailors among 
 its inhabitants. By a bond dated May 9th, 1562, 
 Nicholas Rowell and eight other tailors agreed 
 not to put more than a yard and three quarters 
 of kersey into any one pair of hosen, and to cut 
 the same so as to " lye close to the legges, and not 
 loose or boulstered as in auncient tyme." 
 
 At the end of the street was Aldersgate, north 
 of which ran the street of the same name. It was 
 built upon both sides with fair houses, and was the 
 main entrance to the city from the north-west, and 
 is compared by certain ancient writers to an Ital- 
 ian street for beauty. On the left near the gate 
 was the church of St. Botolph, beyond which Little 
 Britain led west to Smithfield. The Halfmoon 
 Tavern was in this street, and two doors south of 
 Barbican was the BeU, whence John Taylor the 
 Water Poet set out on his " Penniless Pilgrimage " 
 to Scotland. North of Barbican was Bridgewater 
 
NORTH OF CHEAPSIDE 193 
 
 House, the magnificent seat of the Earl of Bridge- 
 water, whose site is now marked by Bridgewater 
 Square and Gardens. " Nobody " was the sign 
 of John Trundle, one of the well known Eliza- 
 bethan booksellers and printers, a printer chiefly 
 of baUads. 
 
 If the restaurant in Crosby Hall affords the 
 modern visitor to London a glance of the finest 
 house within the walls during the reign of Eliza- 
 beth, a visit to the Charter-House will show, much 
 more nearly in its original condition, one of the 
 fine old country houses of that time, for we must 
 not forget that in passing Barbican we have 
 left even the outskirts of the Elizabethan city 
 behind. 
 
 The Charter-House was once a Carthusian mon- 
 astery, destroyed like all the others at the Dissolu- 
 tion. The ancient buildings date chiefly from the 
 early part of the sixteenth century, though some- 
 what modified in more recent times. The Great 
 Hall is considered one of the finest specimens of a 
 sixteenth century hall in London, and the main 
 staircase is unequalled. This, with the Great Cham- 
 ber upstairs (except the west window), is just as 
 they were left by the Duke of Norfolk more than 
 three centuries ago. Part of the original chapel 
 remains, though rebuilt in 1500 and in 1612. The 
 entrance gate is a simple work of the fifteenth cen- 
 
194 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 tury, beneath which still hangs the ponderous leaves 
 placed there in happier days by the Carthusian 
 ■monks. It gives entrance to what was the outer 
 court of the monastery, but a glance at the sur- 
 roundings is sufficient to show that this was not 
 the principal court. One must pass through the 
 ■entrance opposite to gain what was in monastic 
 days the little cloister, though all traces of the 
 cloister walk have long since disappeared. On 
 the north of this court was the great hall for the 
 entertainment of guests, and behind it the fratry 
 or refectory. On the west side were guests' apart- 
 ments and a passage that led to the wash-house 
 court. This was the most frequent resort of the 
 monks, and was surrounded by what in later times 
 "would be called the servants' quarters: bake-house, 
 larder, pantry, wash-house, brew-house, etc. A 
 corresponding passage on the east side gave 
 entrance to the Chapel Court, on the north side 
 of which was the church and chapter house, while 
 beyond that were the great cloister and the 
 gardens. 
 
 After the Dissolution the Charter-House was 
 •used by Henry VIII. as a store-house for tents 
 and pavilions. It was then given to Sir Thomas 
 Audley, who sold it to Sir Edward North, who in 
 turn sold it to Dudley, Duke of Northumberland. 
 ■On his attainder in 1553 it was regranted by the 
 
NORTH OF CHEAPSIDE 195 
 
 crown to Lord North, who died there 1564. It 
 was here that Elizabeth held court for five days 
 as she cautiously approached London at the time 
 of her accession. In 1565 Roger, second Lord 
 North, sold the Charter-House to Thomas Howard, 
 Duke of Norfolk. Again the purchase turned out 
 a bad omen, for Howard was executed for treason 
 in 1572. Elizabeth subsequently granted it to 
 Howard's second son, Thomas, afterwards Earl of 
 Suffolk. 
 
 The Charter-House, which was famous in the 
 middle ages as a great religious establishment, 
 figured only as a private country residence 
 throughout the whole reign of Elizabeth, becom- 
 ing important in the political eye only once — dur- 
 ing the conspiracy of Norfolk. The third period 
 of its existence, that of a great public school, is 
 more brilliant far than either of the others, but 
 belongs to the history of the reign of James and 
 his successors. 
 
 Guildhall seems so intimately connected with 
 Cheapside that it was described in the last chapter. 
 A building that stood near it has, however, been 
 reserved for this place. Bakewell or Blackwell 
 HaU stood on the west side of Bassinghall Street. 
 " The same was built upon vaults of stone, which 
 stone was brought from Caen in Normandy, the 
 like of that of Paul's Church." Stow continues 
 
196 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 in his account to deny the popular belief that the 
 building was originally a Jewish synagogue, by 
 the argument that it is not at all like a church, 
 "and therefore the best opinion in my judgment is 
 that it was of old times belonging to the Bassings, 
 which was in this realm a family of great antiquity 
 and renown, and that it bore also the name of that 
 family, and was called therefore Basingshaugh or 
 hall ; whereunto I am the rather induced for that 
 the arms of that family were of old time so 
 abundantly placed in sundry parts of that house, 
 even in the stone work, but more especially on the 
 walls of the hall, which carried a continual paint- 
 ing of them on every side, so close together as one 
 escutcheon could be placed by another, which 
 I myself have often seen and noted before the old 
 building was taken down." 
 
 The old house was demolished and rebuilt in 
 1588. " Bakewell Hall was by the corporation 
 converted into a ware-house or market place for 
 all sorts of woollen cloth, and other woollen manu- 
 factures brought from all parts of the Kingdom, 
 and by an act of Common Council, held August 8, 
 1576, this was to be the only market for such 
 woollen manufactures, and none to be sold at Lon- 
 don except at this place." (Hatton.) 
 
 Opposite French Lane in Threadneedle Street 
 on the site afterwards occupied by the French 
 
NORTH OF CHEAPSIDE 197 
 
 church stood the free school of St. Anthony. The 
 hospital was suppressed by Edward VI., " the 
 school in some measure remaining," says Stow, 
 *' but sore decayed." The laws of the middle ages 
 were exceedingly strict in regard to the sale of 
 food. Stow relates a curious illustration of 
 this fact in connection with St. Anthony's Hos- 
 pital. 
 
 "And amongst other things observed in my 
 youth, I remember that the officers charged with 
 oversight of the markets in this city, did divers 
 times take from the market people, pigs starved, 
 or otherwise unwholesome for man's sustenance ; 
 these they slit in the ear. One of the proctors for 
 St. Anthonie's tied a bell about the neck, and let 
 it feed on the dunghills; no man would hurt or 
 take them up, but if any gave to them bread, or 
 other feeding, such would they know, watch for, 
 and daily follow, whining till they had somewhat 
 given them; whereupon was raised a proverb, 
 ' Such an one will follow such an one, and whine as 
 it were an Anthonie pig ' ; but if such a pig grew 
 to be fat, and came to good liking (as ofttimes 
 they did), then the proctor would take him up to 
 the use of the hospital." 
 
 Though "sore decayed" in Stow's time, the 
 school of St. Anthony had once been the rival of 
 St. Paul's. "The scholars of this school used at 
 
198 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 certain times of the year to go in procession. Thus 
 I find in the year 1562 on the 15th day of Sep- 
 tember, there set out from Mile End two hundred 
 children of this St. Anthony's school, all well be 
 seen, and so along through Aldgate, down Corn- 
 hill to the Stocks ; and so to the Freer Austins, 
 with streamers and flags, and drums beating. And 
 after every child went home to their father and 
 friends." (Strype.) 
 
 The house of the Austin Friars was in Old Broad 
 Street. It was founded by Humphrey Bohun, Earl 
 of Hereford and Essex in 1253. The site occu- 
 pied the whole area north and west of Throg- 
 morton Street and Old Broad Street in the parish 
 of St. Peter Poor, and extended north to the city 
 wall. At the Dissolution Henry VIII. bestowed the 
 house and grounds upon William Paulet, first Mar- 
 quis of Winchester. This was the famous Marquis 
 of Winchester who was made Lord High Treasurer 
 of England by Edward VI. and retained his office 
 throughout the reign of Mary and Elizabeth till 
 his death in 1571. On being asked how he kept 
 his position through so many political changes, 
 the wily statesman answered : " By being a willow 
 and not an oak." 
 
 He pulled down or altered the buildings that 
 had been given him and constructed a splendid 
 mansion. It degenerated, however, during the 
 
NORTH OF CHEAPSIDE 199 
 
 occupancy of his son, who was forced to sell the 
 monuments of noblemen for one hundred pounds. 
 It soon afterwards passed into the hands of the 
 drapers and became their hall. 
 
 Winchester's alterations, however, did not ex- 
 tend to the handsome church of St. Augustine, 
 which was turned over for use of the Dutch refu- 
 gees. It was entered through a passage from the 
 south end, and, according to Stow, was " a large 
 church, having a most fine, spired steeple, small,, 
 high, and straight." Stow does not record the 
 fact, but at the time he wrote this beautiful struc- 
 ture was almost ready to collapse, as is proved by 
 the following letter dated 1600: 
 
 " There hath been offered of late unto this court 
 a most just and emest petition by divers of the 
 chief est of the parish of St. Peter the Poor in Lon- 
 don to move us to be humble suitors unto your 
 lordship in a cause which is sufficient to speak for 
 itself without the mediation of any other, viz, for 
 the repairing of the ruinous steeple of the church 
 sometimes called the Augustine Friars, now belong- 
 ing to the Dutch nation, situate in the same parish 
 of St. Peter the Poor. The fall whereof (which 
 without speedy prevention is near at hand) must 
 needs bring with it not only a great deformity to 
 the whole city ; it being for architecture one of the 
 beautifullest and rarest spectacles thereof, but also 
 
200 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 a fearful eminent danger to all the inhabitants 
 next adjoining. Your lordship being moved herein, 
 (as we understand) a year since was pleased then 
 to give honorable promises with hope of pres- 
 ent help. But the effects not following accord- 
 ing to your honorable intentions we are bold to 
 renew the said suit again eftsoons craving at your 
 lordship's hands a due consideration of so worthy 
 a work as to help to build up the house of God, one 
 of the chiefest fountains from whence has sprung 
 so great glory to your Lordship's most noble de- 
 scendency of the Paulets. Whose steps your lord- 
 ship must needs follow to continue to all posterity 
 the fame of so bountiful benefactions both to 
 church and common wealth. 
 
 " So that I trust we shall have the less need to 
 importune your lordship in so reasonable a suit, 
 first because it does principally concern your Lord- 
 ship, being the owner of the said spire or steeple, 
 but especially by disbursing a small sum of money 
 to the value of 50 or 60Z., your lordship shall do 
 an excellent work, very helpful to many, and most 
 greatful to all, as well English as strangers." 
 
 A short distance west on Throgmorton Street 
 was a house known as Cromwell's, which furnished 
 an interesting example of the high-handed dealing 
 of the time. Stow tells the story. 
 
 " On the south side, and at the west end of this 
 
NORTH OF CHEAPSIDE 201 
 
 church, many fair houses are built; namely, in 
 Throgmorton Street, one very large and spacious, 
 built in the place of old and small tenements by 
 Thomas Cromwell, master of the king's jewel- 
 house, after that master of the rolls, then Lord 
 Cromwell, knight, lord privy seal, vicar-general, 
 Earl of Essex, high chamberlain of England, &c. 
 This house being finished, and having some reason- 
 able plot of ground left for a garden, he caused 
 the pales of the gardens adjoining to the north 
 part thereof on a sudden to be taken down ; twenty- 
 two feet to be measured forth right into the north 
 of every man's garden ; a line there to be drawn, 
 a trench to be cast, a foundation laid, and a high 
 brick wall to be built. My father had a garden 
 there, and a house standing close to his south pale ; 
 this house they loosed from the ground, and bare 
 upon rollers into my father's garden twenty-two 
 feet, ere my father heard thereof ; no warning was 
 given him, nor other answer, when he spake to the 
 surveyors of that work, but that their master Sir 
 Thomas commanded them so to do; no man durst 
 go to argue the matter, but each man lost his land, 
 and my father paid his whole rent, which was 6s. 
 6d. the year, for that half which was left. Thus 
 much of mine own knowledge have I thought good 
 to note, that the sudden rising of some men causeth 
 them to forget themselves." 
 
202 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 Bishopsgate Street in the time of Elizabeth pre- 
 sented a far different appearance from that of 
 to-day and gave a view of magnificence unrivalled 
 elsewhere throughout the city. If one stood at the 
 south end near the comer of Threadneedle Street 
 by St. Martin Oateswich Church he would see a 
 narrowing vista of fine houses, alternating with 
 hostelries and cultivated gardens, and terminated 
 by the battlemented arch and two side wickets of 
 Bishopsgate. Not far in front of him, on the left 
 was Gresham House, the home of the builder of 
 the Royal Exchange. Almost directly opposite was 
 Crosby Hall, then in the zenith of its glory. 
 Beyond Crosby Hall was Ethelburga Church, 
 beside which a passage led to the church and dilapi- 
 dated nunnery of St. Helen's. On either side 
 beyond were taverns as far as the gate. 
 
 Crosby Hall is the finest specimen of fifteenth 
 century domestic architecture left in London. It 
 was built at a time when the old single-court houses 
 were passing out of style, to be superseded by 
 those with two courts, the great hall forming the 
 division between the two quadrangles. Crosby 
 HaU is of this style, though it illustrates the rare 
 peculiarity of the courts being placed corner to 
 comer instead of end to end ; the inner court lying 
 south-east of the outer court, one side of which was 
 near and parallel to Bishopsgate Street. The state 
 
1^^. 
 
 
 I t 
 
 •*. 
 
 ft -V 
 
 IT - ^ ^ 
 
 t * 
 
 
 ,'# tf 
 
 -E-V. 
 
 
 -*%•& 
 
NORTH OF CHEAPSIDE 203 
 
 apartments, too, surrounded the outer court, which 
 was also unusual, but not unique. " This house," 
 says Stow, "he (Sir John Crosby) built of stone 
 and timber very large and beautiful, and the high- 
 est at that time in London." In the reign of 
 Elizabeth Crosby Hall was still in the heydey of 
 its glory. It had been built by Sir John Crosby, 
 a grocer and woolstapler of London, in 14<66, on 
 ground leased from the adjoining convent of St. 
 Helen's. About 1518 Sir Thomas More held 
 Crosby Place. In 1523 he sold it to his friend 
 Antonio Bonvivi, who later leased it to William 
 Roper, the husband of More's favourite daughter 
 Margaret. Crosby Place was seized, with Bon- 
 vivi's other property, by Henry VIII. in 1553, 
 but restored by Mary, shortly after her acces- 
 sion. 
 
 In 1560 it came into the possession of Germayne 
 Cioll, who with his wife resided here till May, 1566, 
 when the property was sold to Alderman William 
 Bond, a merchant adventurer. At this time and 
 later it was the custom to lodge ambassadors in 
 Crosby Hall, and the old chambers have rung to 
 many a state banquet in the days of Elizabeth. 
 Besides the Spanish and Danish ambassadors who 
 were lodged here, we hear of its being occupied 
 by the Due de Sully in 1594, and by the Due 
 de Boren in 1601. In 1594 it was bought by Sir 
 
204 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 John Spencer, Knight, father-in-law of the first 
 Earl of Northampton. 
 
 The present fame of Crosby Place is largely due 
 to the fact, not that it was once the palace of the 
 last of the Plantagenets, but because Shakespeare 
 mentions the fact in Richard III. The poet was 
 living close to Crosby Hall at the close of the six- 
 teenth century, and was probably familiar with 
 every detail of its history and appearance. 
 
 North of Crosby Hall was the nunnery of St. 
 Helen's, or Black Nuns, belonging to the Benedic- 
 tine order. Till a century ago there still existed 
 very considerable remains of this splendid and spa- 
 cious foundation. It consisted of a large collec- 
 tion of buildings entered from Bishopsgate through 
 an arch that gave upon the outer courtyard, a rec- 
 tangle surrounded by the humbler offices of the 
 establishment. From this there was a passage to 
 the second or inner court, about which were grouped 
 the more important buildings : the Stewart's lodg- 
 ing, counting-house, larder, the entrance to the 
 hall and to the cloister. North of the cloister was 
 a long building, the fratry, and on the east 
 the lodging of the sub-prioress with its garden. 
 On the east side near the lodging of the sub- 
 prioress a door led to a small garden, beyond which 
 were the pleasure grounds, the garden for kitchen 
 stuff, a dove house, and a spacious wood-yard. 
 
NORTH OF CHEAPSIDE 205 
 
 There were also tenements and a stable. These 
 buildings have been enumerated to show how great 
 was the portion of the city, even within the walls, 
 that was given up to the religious houses. These 
 buildings were bought after the Dissolution by the 
 company of Leathersellers, and the nuns' hall made 
 into a hall for the company. Not till 1799 were 
 the buildings removed, at which time they were 
 demolished to make room for the present St. 
 Helen's Square. The records of St. Helen's show 
 that in 1598 William Shakespeare was living in 
 the parish. 
 
 Beyond Bishopsgate on the very bank of the 
 ditch was the church of St. Botolph, one of many 
 bearing the same name, and distinguished by the 
 addition "without Bishopsgate." Here was bap- 
 tised in 1566 Edward AUeyn, play-actor, also 
 founder of Dulwich College. In 1600 an infant 
 son of Ben Jonson was buried in St. Botolph ; and 
 in 1623 Stephen Gosson, who had published the 
 School of Abuse in 1579. 
 
 By this church was a passage to Petty France, 
 so called of the Frenchmen dwelling there. It now 
 goes by the name of New Broad Street. Beyond 
 was Bedlam, a hospital whose site is now covered 
 by Liverpool Street and station. 
 
 " Next unto the parish church of St. Buttolph 
 is a fair inn for receipt of travellers; then an 
 
206 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 hospital of St. Mary of Bethelem, founded by 
 Simon Fitz Mary, one of the sheriffs of London, in 
 the year 1246 : he founded it to have been a priory 
 of canons, with brethren and sisters. ... It was 
 a hospital for distracted people. . . . The mayor 
 and commonalty purchased the patronage thereof, 
 with all the lands and tenements thereunto belong- 
 ing, in the year 1546: the same year King Henry 
 VIII. gave this hospital unto the city; the church 
 and chapel whereof were taken down in the reign 
 of Queen Elizabeth, and houses built there by the 
 governors of Christ's Hospital in London. In this 
 place people that be distraight in wits are, by the 
 suit of their friends, received and kept as afore, 
 but not without charges to their bringers in. In 
 the year 1569, Sir Thomas Roe, merchant-tailor, 
 mayor, caused to be inclosed with a wall of brick 
 about one acre of ground, being part of the said 
 hospital of Bethelem ; to wit, on the west, on the 
 bank of Deep Ditch, so called, parting the said 
 hospital of Bethelem from the More field: this he 
 did for burial and ease of such parishes in London 
 as wanted ground convenient within their par- 
 ishes." 
 
 By 1600 Bethlehem Hospital was considered one 
 of the sights of London. In Webster's Westward. 
 Ho! while certain persons are waiting for their 
 horses to be saddled at the Dolphin without Bish- 
 
NORTH OF CHEAPSIDE 207 
 
 opsgate, they go over " to Bedlam to see what 
 Greeks are within." In the Silent Woman Bedlam 
 is listed with the China Houses and the Exchange 
 as among the sights of London. 
 
 For the accommodation of patients there were 
 a parlour, kitchen, and larder below stairs and 
 " twenty-one rooms wherein the poor distracted 
 people lie, and above stairs eight rooms more for 
 servants and the poor to lie in, and a long waste 
 now being contrived and in work, to make eight 
 more rooms for poor people to lodge where they 
 lacked room before." The hospital was able to 
 accommodate from fifty to sixty patients. 
 
 The treatment of mad people in the time of 
 Elizabeth was cruel in the extreme, yet this very 
 cruelty was a natural result of certain character- 
 istics of the age. The Elizabethans, in fact, were 
 at their wits' end concerning the treatment of mad- 
 ness. The condition perplexed them, and they did 
 not know whether to treat it as a physical or moral 
 malady. In general, insanity was considered to 
 be evidence of the devil's presence in the patients. 
 To maltreat the patient, therefore, was to maltreat 
 the devil, the only way in which he could be suc- 
 cessfully driven from his temporary dwelling place. 
 Flogging, starvation, or solitary confinement of 
 the patient, who was loaded with fetters in a pitch 
 dark room, were some of the " cures " applied to 
 
208 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 lunatics. A modem audience is likely to lose the 
 point of the practical joke played upon Malvolio 
 if they forget that the sanest man in the play is 
 subjected to the customary treatment accorded a 
 madman. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 MILITARY COMPANIES 
 
 /^ ODDES instrument," as Bishop Latimore 
 ^^ called the bow in his celebrated Sixth Sermon, 
 was fast passing out of use as a weapon of de- 
 fence: in fact, save in the eyes of an occasional 
 enthusiast who loved the old order of things and 
 deplored the new, archery had become a manly 
 sport rather than a part of the art of war. Ar- 
 thur's show, to which Justice Shallow refers with 
 such naive pride, was an exhibition held at Mile 
 End Green near London, by one of the city shoot- 
 ing clubs. The society was visited and patronised 
 by King Henry VIII., himself a skilful bowman, 
 to whose love of the sport was due the peerage of 
 Shoreditch. The Duke of Shoreditch, so frequently 
 mentioned in contemporary writings, was a citizen 
 named Barlow, who acquitted himself so well at 
 one of these public exhibitions of archery that 
 King Henry "was so exceedingly pleased, that he 
 told Barlow that he should be henceforth called the 
 Duke of Shoreditch, which appellation the Captain 
 of the London archers enjoyed for ages after." 
 (Maitland.) The various members of the Shore- 
 
 209 
 
210 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 ditch peerage, such as the Marquises of Clerken- 
 well, Ishngton, Hoxton, etc., derived their titles 
 from other suburbs on the outskirts of London. 
 
 Though the practice of archery had degenerated 
 into a mere amusement that required encourage- 
 ment, there had developed as yet no regular mili- 
 tary organisation for the defence of the city. 
 What little had been done in this direction con- 
 sisted only in the temporary union of the " trained- 
 bands " in time of danger. Military education, 
 on the other hand, was not neglected. The youth- 
 ful training of men in nearly every social rank 
 included the use of weapons. Even the London 
 'prentice boy was so skilful in the use of his staff, 
 which was so easily summoned into action by the 
 familiar rallying cry of " Clubs ! Clubs ! " that he 
 was a formidable antagonist, as every one knows 
 who remembers the sixteenth century riot that has 
 since been known as Evil May-Day. 
 
 The training of citizens in military affairs was 
 further provided for in a lecture founded by 
 Thomas Hood, to be read in the Chapel of Leaden- 
 hall. Though called a mathematical lecture, it 
 was largely given up to teaching the art of war 
 and the theory of defence. According to the prac- 
 tice of this school the city should appoint at least 
 forty captains, one of whom was to be chosen 
 governor, and twelve others assistants. There 
 
MILITARY COMPANIES 211 
 
 were also to be 240 men specially chosen from the 
 various wards of the city to be instructed in the 
 duties of under-officers ; and from their ranks new 
 captains from time to time were chosen. Thus a 
 body of nearly three hundred men was kept con- 
 stantly trained as company officers. The actual 
 organisation implied by this theoretical teaching 
 was called into existence only when some danger 
 threatened the city or country. 
 
 In all military affairs on land the individual 
 company was the unit. An army was but a col- 
 lection of companies temporarily under the com- 
 mand of a superior officer. The absolute power of 
 a captain over his company, and the rivalry be- 
 tween the individual captains, often rendered an 
 army far from effective, and accounts for the 
 frequent desertion of small portions in the midst 
 of a battle. The cashiering of a captain might 
 throw his whole company, the members of which 
 were often his, not the Queen's followers, into dis- 
 contented inaction or open insurrection. 
 
 From The Soldier's Accidence, a work on 
 tactics by a contemporary writer, Gervase Mark- 
 ham, we learn the principles upon which the 
 trained-bands were organised. The company, 
 which usually consisted of one hundred men, was 
 divided equally into pikemen and men armed to 
 shoot ; of the latter, half carried muskets and half 
 
212 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 carried harquebuses.* The strongest and best men. 
 of the company were selected to carry the pikes. 
 The pikemen wore Spanish morions, or close- 
 fitting steel caps, lined with quilted padding to 
 protect the head from the shock of a blow. They 
 also wore cuirasses that were " at the least high 
 pike proof," strong gorgets to protect the neck, 
 and close-joined pieces for the thigh. The intro- 
 duction of gunpowder had rendered the wear- 
 ing of armour almost useless ; and, though the 
 Elizabethans had not yet fully realised the fact, 
 full armour was no longer seen outside the tilting 
 lists and public shows. Markham advises that all 
 armour such as the members of the trained-bands 
 wore should be russet, sanguine, or black. The 
 pikes were made of sound ash, fifteen feet in length, 
 exclusive of the steel head or point, and the shaft 
 was protected with steel plates for four feet from 
 the head. The pikemen also wore a broadsword 
 and a girdle on which was an iron hook used to 
 suspend the heavy morion when the soldier was not 
 in action. 
 
 The musqueteers were similarly dressed, with 
 slight additions. A broad leather band passed 
 over the left shoulder and under the right arm, 
 
 * The harquebus was much like the musket, but lighter, 
 and did not necessarily require a rest in taking aim. The 
 harquebus by many was considered the more accurate. 
 
MILITARY COMPANIES 213 
 
 to which were fastened by strings long enough to 
 convey them to the mouth of the gun twelve or 
 thirteen little cases of wood or horn, called bandi- 
 leers, containing each a charge of powder. To the 
 girdle were attached the rammer and priming iron, 
 and bags to contain bullets, moulds, worms, screws, 
 etc. For his right hand the musqueteer carried 
 a rest. This was made of ash, shod with iron at 
 one end and topped with a U-shaped prong in 
 which the musket was rested at the moment of 
 firing. On the march the rest was trailed upon the 
 ground by a thong fastened to the wrist. 
 
 The harquebusers were likewise equipped, ex- 
 cept that they carried no rest. The haldberdier 
 was armed " at all points like the pikeman, only he 
 shall carry a halberd, long, sharp, and well covered 
 with plates . . . these halberds do properly 
 belong to sergeants of companies." " The ensign, 
 or bearer of captain's colours shall be full armed in 
 every way, with a fair sword, and carrying the 
 ensign." The lieutenant was armed like the en- 
 sign, and " his weapon shall be a fair, guilt parti- 
 san." Captains were likewise armed and habited; 
 "but as much richer as they please: their weapons 
 to lead with shall be f eathersteaves : their weapons 
 to encounter the enemy shall be partizans of strong, 
 short blades, well gilt and adorned." 
 
 The company was divided into four corporal- 
 
214 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 ships or squadrons, each squadron into files, and the 
 files into fellowships or comeradoes. The rows of 
 soldiers parallel to the front were called ranks ; rows 
 at right angles were files. A corporal led the first 
 file, a lans-presado (or acting-corporal) another, 
 and " the most sufficient gentlemen " the others. 
 The corporal's chief duty was on guard at night 
 after the watch was set. He examined any one who 
 wished to pass, received the countersign, and made 
 sure that the arms of each soldier were in good 
 condition. He also taught the company the man- 
 ual and marching tactics. 
 
 The captain marched at the head of the troop, 
 the lieutenant in the rear, their positions, however, 
 being reversed in a retreat. On the march the 
 ensign's place was behind the captain; in action 
 he stood in the centre of the company surrounded 
 by the pikes. In square formation the drums and 
 fifes were placed in front of the right and left 
 wings ; in extended formation, however, the eldest 
 drum marched between the third and fourth rank 
 of shot behind the captain, the second drum with 
 the ensign, and the third drum between the third 
 and fourth rank of shot in front of the lieutenant. 
 The eldest drum was considered a higher officer 
 than the sergeant. It was necessary for him to be, 
 not only a soldier, but also a linguist, for he served 
 in the capacity of interpreter in foreign cam- 
 
MILITARY COMPANIES 215 
 
 paigns. Most of the commands now given by 
 bugle were then sounded upon the drum. 
 
 The old firearms were clumsy and intricate, 
 almost beyond modem comprehension. The follow- 
 ing are the commands that indicate the necessary 
 steps in the process of loading: Make ready — 
 present — give fire for charging — clear your pan 
 — prime your pan — cast off your loose corns — 
 blow your pan — cast about your musket with both 
 your hands and trail your rest — open your charge 
 — charge your musket with powder — draw out 
 your scouring stick — shorten your stick — ram in 
 your powder — draw out your stick — charge with 
 bullet — ram in your bullet — draw out your stick — 
 shorten your stick and put it up — bring your mus- 
 ket forward with the left hand — hold it up with 
 your right hand and recover your rest. Thirteen 
 additional motions were necessary for firing the 
 piece. 
 
 We are used to the fact that the front in battle 
 is a place of greater honour and danger than any 
 other. The Elizabethans, however, reduced the 
 relation of honour to position to a science. Every 
 one of the hundred men of a company was num- 
 bered. The first and second places were given to 
 the end men of the front rank three and four were 
 similar positions in the rear rank (next the enemy 
 •in a retreat). The front and rear ranks occupy 
 
216 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 numbers 1-20 ; 21-40 are in the very middle of 
 the company, because on certain commands the 
 company opened into two parts with these ranks 
 exposed. And so on for every person in the 
 company. 
 
 The trained-bands of London were so numerous 
 that they sent to a muster before the Queen at 
 Greenwich park 800 pikes, 400 harquebuses, 200 
 halberdiers, and 28 " whifflers." In 1588, the year 
 of the Armada, the city furnished 10,017 men to 
 send to the camp at Tilbury. 
 
 The favourite practice grounds of the trained- 
 bands were Finsbury and Moorfields, places north 
 of London that were also the haunt of motley 
 amusements of all kinds. They were the place of 
 gamesters and fraudulent tricks. They were the 
 great gymnasium of the capital, the resort of 
 wrestlers, boxers, runners, foot-ball players, etc. 
 " Here, too, I lament to say," writes Pennant, 
 " that religion set up its stage itinerant, beneath 
 the shade of the trees ; and here the pious, well- 
 meaning Whitfield, long preached so successfully 
 as to steal from a neighbouring charlatan the 
 greater part of his numerous admirers." 
 
 West of Moorfields was another famous prac- 
 tice field, namely the Artillery Ground, where the 
 Honourable Artillery Company of the City of 
 London held its meets. This organization was dis- 
 
MILITARY COMPANIES 217 
 
 tinct from the city trained-bands, with which it is 
 often confused. 
 
 Along with all this military business went a 
 good deal of parade and sentiment. Though the 
 practice of heraldry had already begun to decay 
 into a mere sickly parade of vanity, strict heraldric 
 rules governed the choice of a captain's flag. It 
 could consist of one colour mixed with a metal, and 
 a mistake in the choice of colours was considered a 
 great breach of honour. Thus yellow or white 
 might be combined with blue, red, green, purple, 
 tawny, or ermine ; but yellow and white could not 
 be combined, nor red and green. A gentleman 
 captain chose his colours from his coat of arms ; 
 but if he had none he chose to suit himself. Each 
 colour had its special significance. Yellow was 
 emblematical of honour, white of innocence, and 
 black of wisdom. Scott made a poor choice of 
 colour for Marmion, inasmuch as blue represented 
 faith. Red was the colour of justice; green, of 
 hope; purple, of fortitude; tawny, of merit; and 
 ermine of holiness. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 HOLBORN AND SMITHFIELD 
 
 \ GLANCE at the interesting plan of London 
 -^* drawn by Aggas about 1560 reveals the fact 
 that the region described in this chapter was then 
 in a transition state ; it was neither city nor coun- 
 try. One could walk along Snow Hill and Hol- 
 born from Newgate to Gray's Inn Road and find 
 oneself between houses most of the way. Yet 
 an occasional peep would show that in many places 
 the houses were but one deep, a mere straggling 
 line that bordered the thoroughfare. To the north, 
 however, in the immediate vicinity of Smithfield, 
 a populous and thriving suburb had sprung into 
 existence. 
 
 Immediately without Newgate were two turn- 
 ings : that to the north was Giltspur Street (some- 
 times called Knightrider Street, but not to be con- 
 fused with another of the same name north of 
 Thames Street), and led to Pye Corner, which was 
 on the south side of the open space known as West 
 Smithfield, or merely Smithfield. 
 
 Smithfield was famous in five directions: (1) as a 
 great horse and cattle market; (2) for the annual 
 fair of St. Bartholomew ; (3) for its tilts and tour- 
 
 218 
 
HOLBORN, SMITHFIELD 219 
 
 naments, a usage falling into decay during the 
 reign of Elizabeth; (■!) as place for duels; (5) as 
 a place for executions. The Smithfield burnings 
 are proverbially associated with the Marian perse- 
 cutions, but as late as 1611 a person was burned 
 to death in Smithfield. The scene of these horrors 
 was opposite the main gate of entry to St. Bar- 
 tholomew's priory. 
 
 Smithfield was an open space of some five or six 
 acres in extent, approached, as has been said, by 
 Giltspur Street. In the sixteenth century the 
 neighbourhood was held in bad repute. " And if 
 some Smithfield Ruffian take up some strange 
 going ; some new mowing with the mouth ; some 
 wrenching with the shoulder ; some brave proverb ; 
 some fresh new oath that is not stale but will run 
 round in the mouth; some new disguised garment, 
 or desperate hat, fond in fashion, or garish in colour, 
 whatsoever it cost, how small soever his living be, 
 by what shift soever it be gotten, gotten it must 
 be, and used with the first, or else the grace of it 
 is stale and gone." (Ascham, 1570.) Smithfield 
 preserved this reputation till 1615, when it was 
 subject to thorough improvement. 
 
 "And this Summer, 1615, the City of London 
 reduced the rude vast place of Smithfield into a 
 fair and comely order, which formerly was never 
 held possible to be done, and paved it all over, and 
 
220 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 made divers sewers to convey the water from the 
 new channels which were made by reason of the 
 new pavement ; they also made strong rails round 
 about Smithfield and sequestered the middle part 
 of the said Smithfield into a very fair and civil 
 walk, and railed it round about with strong rails 
 to defend the place from annoyance and danger, 
 as well from carts as all manner of cattle, because 
 it was intended hereafter, that in time it might 
 prove a fair and peaceable Market Place, by reason 
 that Newgate Market, Cheapside, Leadenhall and 
 Gracechurch Street were immeasurably pestered 
 with the unimaginable increase and multiplicity of 
 market folk. And this field, commonly called West 
 Smithfield, was for many years called 'RuiBans' 
 Hall' by reason it was the usual place of frays 
 and common fighting during the time that sword 
 and bucklers were in use. But the ensuing deadly 
 fight of Rapier and Dagger suddenly suppressed 
 the fighting with Sword and Buckler." (Howes, 
 1631.) 
 
 " You may have a fair prospect of this square 
 fellow, as you pass from the streights of Pie- 
 corner. This place is well stored with good har- 
 bours for passengers to put into: for flesh and 
 drink and fish it is admirable; but fish harbour 
 appears now but two days in seven above water. 
 Here, thrice in a week one may see more beasts than 
 
HOLBORN, SMITHFIELD 221 
 
 men. Butchers that have money make this their 
 haven or rendezvous; men that are down fled, and 
 better fed than taught, may see many like them- 
 selves, brought here for the slaughter. Butchers 
 surely cannot endure cuckolds, because they kill as 
 many horned beasts; some, I suppose may be said 
 to buy themselves, such as traffic for calves. Though 
 the place be square, yet there is much cheating in 
 it ; here land-pirates used to sell that which is none 
 of their own ; here come many horsemen, like 
 Frenchmen, rotten in the joints; which are made 
 to leap, though they can scarce go. He that 
 lights upon a horse in this place, from an old horse 
 courser, sound both in wind and limb, may light of 
 an honest wife in the stews. Here's many an old 
 jade that trots hard for't, that uses his legs sore 
 against his will; for he had rather have a stable, 
 than a market or a race. I am persuaded that this 
 place was paved without the consent of the horse- 
 coursers company. This place affords those black 
 leather coats which run so fast upon wheels, they 
 shake many a young heir out of his stock and 
 means." (Lupton, 1632.) 
 
 Beginning at Pye Corner and making the circuit 
 of Smithfield towards the east, one passes the Hos- 
 pital of St. Bartholomew, next to which stood the 
 church and priory of the same name. Between 
 these two institutions was Duck Lane, that ran 
 
222 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 south-east towards Little Britain, by which passage 
 one could reach Aldersgate Street. Opening out 
 of the east side of Smithfield, and bordering St. 
 Bartholomew the Great on the north, was Long 
 Lane, which also led east to Aldersgate Street. 
 The passage out of the north side continuous with 
 Giltspur Street was closed by Smithfield Bars, 
 which marked the limit of the city in that direction. 
 In the north-west comer were the sheep-pens ; and 
 from the west side, opposite Long Lane, Cow Lane 
 ran down to Holborn. Cow Lane was then the 
 abode of booksellers and coachmakers as well as of 
 " cunning men," a term applied by Ben Jonson in 
 Bartholomew Fair to astrologers and their like. 
 Hosier Lane and Cock Lane also turned out of the 
 west side of Smithfield, the latter from a point very 
 near Pye Corner. 
 
 Wliatever call one makes upon his memory he 
 finds that most recollections of the place turn upon 
 Bartholomew: Saint, Priory, Hospital, or Fair. 
 There was one Rahere who played the part of j ester 
 or court fool in the palace of King Henry I. As 
 he grew older he became repentant for having 
 lived a life of folly, and set out upon a pilgrimage 
 to Rome for the benefit of his moral health. It 
 was on his return that he fell asleep and dreamed 
 of himself standing at the edge of a bottomless 
 pit with no aid to prevent his destruction, when 
 
HOLBORN, SMITHFIELD 223 
 
 suddenly there appeared to him the form of Saint 
 Bartholomew, who commanded him to build a priory 
 and hospital at Smithfield near London. It was 
 to fulfil the dictates of this vision that he obtained 
 permission of the King, to whom the ground 
 belonged, and set about the task of building a 
 hospital in 1123. The priory, which was fin- 
 ished about the same time, he dedicated to the 
 order of St. Augustine, and himself became first 
 prior. 
 
 The hospital was the earliest institution of the 
 kind in London, and, though subject in some 
 things to the priory, had an independent consti- 
 tution and estate. From the very beginning it 
 was a hospital for the sick, not merely an alms- 
 house, as were so many of the so-called hos- 
 pitals. 
 
 The priory was suppressed in 1537, and the hos- 
 pital refounded in 1544 at the petition of Sir 
 Richard Gresham and others. The superintend- 
 ence of the hospital was committed to Thomas 
 Vicary, Sergeant, Surgeon to Henry VIII., Ed- 
 ward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth; he was also the 
 author of The Englishman's Treasure, the first 
 book on anatomy published in the English lan- 
 guage. The nearest date that can be assigned for 
 the origin of a medical school at this hospital is 
 that it was previous to 1662, when we learn that 
 
224. SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 students were in the habit of attending the medical 
 and surgical practice. 
 
 East of the hospital across Duck Lane was the 
 priory, the bounds of which can easily be traced 
 on a modern map by the following description: 
 The west wall began at the south-west corner of 
 Long Lane and followed the boundary of Smith- 
 field and Duck Lane to the South or Great Gate 
 House, where is now the entrance of Bartholomew 
 Close (so-called, says Stow, because closed at 
 night). The southern wall ran east nearly half 
 way to Aldersgate Street, then south for forty 
 yards, and then east. The east wall was parallel 
 to Aldersgate Street, and twenty-six yards west of 
 it. The north wall followed the south side of Long 
 Lane. 
 
 Within this wall was a magnificent church and 
 chapel, cloisters, prior's lodgings, and all the other 
 buildings connected with a mediseval establishment 
 of this kind on a large scale. It was also famous 
 for its mulberry garden. Though time has dealt 
 harshly with Rahere's foundation, one splendid 
 fragment still remains. The choir and transepts 
 (the old nave occupied the site of the present 
 graveyard) of the priory church are in use to-day 
 as a parish church, and, though altered and re- 
 stored, constitute the finest Norman remains in 
 London, if not in England. Opposite the found- 
 
HOLBORN, SMITHFIELD 225 
 
 er's tomb is the monument of Sir Walter 
 Mildmay, Chancellor and Sub-Treasurer of the 
 Exchequer in the reign of Elizabeth, and founder 
 of Emmanuel CoUege, Cambridge. 
 
 If our recollections of this neighbourhood cling 
 about the name of Bartholomew, still more are 
 they associated with the fair. No one needs a 
 more accurate or complete guide, or is a more 
 graphic picture of this institution extant, than 
 that contained in Ben Jonson's comedy of Bar- 
 tholomew Fair, upon which the present writer has 
 depended chiefly for his illustrations. 
 
 Fairs were of common occurrence in olden times. 
 Every village had its fair, and one at East Smith- 
 field and another in Southwark vied in importance 
 to Londoners with that held at West Smithfield. 
 It derived its name from the fact that it originally 
 began on the eve of St. Bartholomew's day and 
 lasted three days, a period subsequently extended to 
 a fortnight. For centuries it was the chief cloth- 
 fair of England, but by the time of Elizabeth its 
 character had altogether changed. It was no longer 
 a fair in the old sense of the word, but a place of 
 revelry and dissipation. Monsters were exhibited, 
 all sorts of jugglers, mountebanks, and puppet-show 
 men had their booths there. Every sort of article 
 was found for sale. It was particularly famous 
 for its roast pig and pickpockets. The fair was 
 
226 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 opened by the Lord Mayor at the entrance to Cloth 
 Pair with the following proclamation : 
 
 " Oyez ! Oyez ! Oyez ! All manner of persons 
 may take notice that in the Close of St. Bartholo- 
 mew the Great, and West Smithfield, London, and 
 the lands and places adjoining, is now to be held a 
 fair for this day and the two days following, to 
 which all persons may freely resort to buy and sell, 
 according to the liberties and privileges of the said 
 fair, and may depart without disturbance, paying 
 their duties. And all persons are strictly charged 
 and commanded, in his Majesty's name, to keep the 
 peace, and do nothing in disturbance of the said 
 fair, as they will answer the contrary at their 
 perils ; and that there be no manner of arrest or 
 arrests, but by such ofRcers as are appointed. And 
 if any persons be aggrieved, let them repair to the 
 court of Pie-Powder, where they may have speedy 
 relief, according to justice and equity. God save 
 the King ! and the lord of the manor." 
 
 The court of Pie-Powder was within the district 
 of the fair, and was characterised by the speedy 
 quality of its justice. Prisoners were summoned 
 before it, tried, condemned, and punished in the 
 stocks or at the whipping post within a couple of 
 hours. 
 
 " It is worthy of observation," says Paul Hentz- 
 ner in 1598, "that every year upon St. Bartholo- 
 
HOLBORN, SMITHFIELD 227 
 
 mew's Day, when the Fair is held, it is usual for 
 the Mayor (attended by the twelve principal 
 Aldermen) to walk in a neighbouring field, dressed 
 in his scarlet gown. . . . When the Mayor 
 goes out of the precincts of the City, a sceptre 
 [mace], a sword, and a cap are borne before him, 
 and he is followed by the principal Aldermen in 
 scarlet gowns, with gold chains, himself and they 
 on horseback. Upon his arrival at the place ap- 
 pointed for that purpose, where a tent is pitched, 
 the mob begin to wrestle before him, two at a time ; 
 the conquerors receive rewards from the magis- 
 trates. After this is over, a parcel of live rabbits 
 are turned loose among the crowd, who are pursued 
 by a number of boys, who endeavour to catch them 
 with all the noise they can make. While we are at 
 the show, one of our company, Tobias Salander, 
 Doctor of Physic, had his pocket picked of his 
 purse, with nine crowns du soleil, which, without 
 doubt was cleverly taken from him by the English- 
 man who always kept very close to him that the 
 doctor did not in the least perceive it." 
 
 Plays of all sorts were acted at the fair. " O 
 the motions that I, Lanthorn Leatherhead, have 
 given light to in my time! Jerusalem was a 
 stately thing, and so was Nineveh, and the City of 
 Norwich, and Sodom and Gomorrah, with the Ris- 
 ing of the 'Prentices, and the pulling down the 
 
228 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 bawdy-houses there upon Shrove Tuesday ; but the 
 Gunpowder Plot, there was a get-penny ! I have 
 presented that to an eighteen or twenty pence 
 audience nine times in an afternoon. For home 
 born projects prove ever the best, they are so 
 easy and famihar ; they put too much learning in 
 their things now o'days." (Jonson: Bartholomew 
 Fair. ) 
 
 " I have been at the Eagle and the Black Wolf, 
 and the bull with the five legs, and the dogs that 
 dance the Morris, and the Hare and the Taber." 
 (Ibid.) 
 
 " Each person having a booth paid so much per 
 foot during the first three days. The Earl of War- 
 wick and Holland is concerned in the toll gathered 
 the first three days in the Fair, being a penny for 
 every burden of goods brought in or carried out; 
 and to that end there are persons that stand at all 
 the entrances into the Fair ; and they are of late 
 years grown so nimble, that these Blades will extort 
 a penny if one hath but a little bundle under one 
 arm, and nothing related to the Fair." (Strype.) 
 
 " Sir, it stands me in six and twenty shillings, 
 besides three shillings for my ground." (Jonson: 
 Bartholomew Fair.) 
 
 The cloister was a very important situation dur- 
 ing fair time. Both sides were taken up with the 
 shops of milliners and sempstresses who, while the 
 
HOLBORN, SMITHFIELD 229 
 
 fair was in progress, turned them into raffling 
 shops and houses of ill resort. " This is not an ark 
 like Noah's, which received the clean and the un- 
 clean ; only the unclean beasts enter this ark, and 
 such as have the devil's livery on their backs." 
 (The Ohesrver, August 21, 1703.) 
 
 " Smithfield is another sort of place now to what 
 it was in the time of honest Ben, who, were he to 
 rise out of his grave, would hardly believe it to be 
 the same numerical spot of ground where Justice 
 Overdo made so busy a figure ; where the crop- 
 eared Parson demolished a ginger bread stall; 
 where Nightingale of harmonious memory sung 
 ballads ; and fat Ursula sold Pig and Bottled Ale." 
 {Tom Brown.) 
 
 Imagine the letter Y, with Holborn for the stem, 
 lying east and west ; the northeastern branch would 
 be Cow Lane leading to Smithfield; the southeas- 
 tern branch would be Snow Hill, a confined, cir- 
 cuitous, narrow, and steep road leading to New- 
 gate. Where these three streets intersected was 
 Holborn Conduit. 
 
 On the north side of Snow Hill stood the church 
 of St. Sepulchre, where Ascham is buried. There 
 was an interesting custom connected with St. 
 Sepulchre's which should be related. Robert Dow, 
 a merchant-tailor who died in 1612, bequeathed a 
 large sum of money to provide for the tolling of 
 
230 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 the bell when condemned prisoners were led out of 
 Newgate on the way to execution. His legacy also 
 provided for two admonitions to be read as fol- 
 lows : the first to the prisoner in Newgate the 
 night before his execution, the second to be read 
 as he was passing the church on the way to the 
 gallows. 
 
 "You prisoners that are within, 
 Who, for wickedness and sin, 
 after many mercies shown you, are now appointed 
 to die to-morrow in the forenoon ; give ear and 
 understand, to-morrow morning the great bell of 
 St. Sepulchre's shall toll for you, in form and man- 
 ner of a passing bell, as used to be tolled for those 
 at point of death ; to the end that all godly people, 
 hearing that bell, and knowing it is for your going 
 to your deaths, may be stirred up heartily to pray 
 to God to bestow his grace and mercy upon you 
 wliilst you live. I beseech you for Jesus Christ's 
 sake, to keep this night in watching and prayer, 
 to the salvation of your own souls, while there is 
 yet time and place for mercy as knowing to- 
 morrow you must appear before the judgment 
 seat of your Creator, there to give an account of 
 all things done in this life, and to suffer eternal 
 torments for your sins committed against him, 
 unless upon your hearty and unfeigned repentance, 
 you find mercy, through the merits, death and 
 
HOLBORN, SMITHFIELD 231 
 
 passion of your only mediator and advocate, 
 JESUS CHRIST who now sits at the right hand of 
 God, to make intercession for as many of you as 
 penitently return to him." 
 
 The following was read by the bellman as the 
 prisoner was passing under the wall of the church : 
 
 "All good people pray heartily unto God for 
 these poor sinners who are now going to their 
 death for whom the great bell doth toll. 
 
 " You that are condemned to die, repent with 
 lamentable tears ; ask mercy of the Lord for the 
 salvation of 3'our own souls, through the merits, 
 death, and passion of JESUS CHRIST, who now 
 sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession 
 for as many of you as penitently return unto 
 
 him. 
 
 " Lord have mercy upon you. 
 
 " Christ have mercy upon you. 
 
 " Lord have mercy upon you. 
 
 " Christ have mercy upon you." 
 Next to St. Sepulchre's was the Saracen's Head, 
 a celebrated tavern on the north side of Snow Hill. 
 It was removed in the construction of Holborn via- 
 duct. The Saracen's Head was next the church 
 and not on the site of the present tavern bearing 
 the same name. From the records of the prepara- 
 tions for the reception of Charles V. in 1522 we 
 learn that the tavern had thirty beds and stabling 
 
232 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 for forty horses. Two other inns in the list have 
 equal stable room, but none so many beds. 
 
 " Do not undervalue an enemy by whom you 
 have been worsted. When our countrymen came 
 home from fighting with the Saracens, and were 
 beaten by them, they pictured them with huge, big, 
 terrible faces (as you still see the sign of the Sara- 
 cen's Head is) when in truth they were like other 
 men. But this they did to save their own credit." 
 (Seldon's Table Talk.) 
 
 Though written long after the Elizabethan age, 
 the following description by Dickens portrays the 
 place previous to its destruction and the sweeping 
 changes in the neighbouring streets. With the 
 substitution of costermongers for cabriolets and 
 omnibuses, and tap for coffee-room, one can easily 
 imagine the ancient surroundings. 
 
 "Near to the jail, and by consequence near to 
 Smithfield .... and on that particular 
 part of Snow Hill where omnibus-horses going 
 eastward seriously think of falling down on pur- 
 pose, and where horses in hackney cabriolets going 
 westward not infrequently fall by accident, is the 
 coach yard of the Saracen's Head Inn; its portals 
 guarded by two Saracen's heads and shoulders 
 frowning upon you from each side of the 
 gateway. The inn itself, garnished with another 
 Saracen's Head, frowns upon you from the top of 
 
HOLBORN, SMITHFIELD 2 
 
 the yard. . . . When you walk up this yard 
 you will see the booking ofBce in the left, and the 
 tower of St. Sepulchre's Church darting abruptly 
 up into the sky on your right, and a gallery of 
 bedrooms upon both sides. Just before you will 
 observe a long window with the words, ' Coffee 
 Room' legibly painted above it." (Nicholas 
 Nichleby. ) 
 
 At the point of intersection of the three branches 
 of the Y stood, as has been said, the conduit, and, 
 some three hundred and fifty feet west of this 
 point Holbom Bridge spanned the Fleet River, 
 here scarcely more than a tiny brook. A Httle 
 further west one would pass St. Andrew's Church 
 at the corner of Shoe Lane, next to which was 
 Thavie's Inn, while opposite on the north side stood 
 Ely House, belonging to the Bishops of Ely. This 
 brings us almost to the open country in Queen 
 EHzabeth's time. There was Christopher Hatton's 
 house on the north side, the Bell Tavern, where tra- 
 dition says Shakespeare acted in his own plays, and 
 its next-door neighbour, the Black Bull, which is 
 still standing. Brook Street marks the site of 
 Brook House, the mansion of Fulke Grevile, and 
 Holbom Bars crossed the street where stood, then 
 as now, the fine old mansion of Staple Inn. 
 
 Beyond Holbom Bars all was open country. One 
 passed north across the fields to Clerkenwell and 
 
234 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 the Priory of St. John; and west through equally 
 pastoral scenes to the country church of St. Giles 
 in the Fields ; while to the south all was open as 
 far as the Strand, where a new line of houses was 
 just beginning to rise upon its northern side. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE STRAND 
 
 TN very ancient times the only land passage from 
 -'■ London to Westminster was by way of Hol- 
 born ; but little by little the marshes about Thorny 
 Island, as the site of Westminster was called, were 
 reclaimed, and the Strand sprang into existence. 
 Though poorly paved in the middle of the sixteenth 
 century, and in reality nothing but a back-door 
 thoroughfare, it was the principal land connection 
 between London and the court. 
 
 From Ludgate to Temple Bar the continuation 
 of this street bore the name of Fleet, which was due 
 to the river of the same name that crossed the 
 thoroughfare at right angles. All of Fleet Street, 
 though without the wall, was within the city lib- 
 erties, which extended as far west as Temple Bar. 
 The street in the time of Queen Elizabeth was as 
 famous as any other neighbourhood for its numer- 
 ous taverns, and it boasted a number of printers 
 and booksellers, but its reputation par excellence 
 was due to its travelling showmen, mountebanks, 
 puppet-shows and " motions." It was all the year 
 
 235 
 
236 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 round a vivid reflection of the St. Bartholomew- 
 neighbourhood in fair time. 
 
 Concerning the bridge and river of Fleet Stow 
 says : " Fleete bridge in the west without Ludgate, 
 a bridge of stone, fair coped on either side with 
 iron pikes ; on the which, towards the south, be 
 also certain lanthorns of stone, for lights to be 
 placed in the winter evenings, for commodity of 
 travellers. Under this bridge runneth a water, 
 sometimes called, as I have said, the river of the 
 Wels, since Turnemill brooke, now Fleet dike, be- 
 cause it runneth by the Fleete, and sometime about 
 the Fleete, so under the Fleete bridge into the river 
 of Thames. This bridge hath been far greater in 
 times past, but lessened, as the water course hath 
 been narrowed. It seemeth this last bridge to be 
 made or repaired at the charges of John Wels, 
 mayor, in the year 1431, for on the coping is en- 
 graven Wels embraced by angels, like as on the 
 standard in Cheape, which he also built. Thus 
 
 \ much of the bridge: for of the water course, and 
 decay thereof, I have spoken in another place." 
 
 f" Elsewhere in the present volume we have pointed 
 out the numerous conduits from which was drawn 
 most of the city supply of water. One of the most 
 notable of these conduits stood in Fleet Street. 
 
 " The inhabitants of Fleet street," says Stow, 
 " in the year 1478, obtained licence of the mayor, 
 
THE STRAND 237 
 
 aldermen, and commonalty, to make at their own 
 charges two cisterns, the one to be set at the said 
 standard, the other at Fleet bridge, for the receipt 
 of the waste water; this cistern at the standard 
 they built, and on the same fair tower of stone, 
 garnished with images of St. Christopher on the 
 top, and angels round about lower down, with 
 sweet sounding bells before them, whereupon, by 
 an engine placed in the tower, they divers hours of 
 the day and night chimed such an hymn as was 
 appointed." 
 
 Among the Fleet Street taverns we find The 
 King's Head, The Horn, The Mitre and, most 
 famous of aU, The Devil. The latter tavern stood 
 on the site of No. 2, and had for its sign a picture 
 of St. Dunstan pinching the devil by the nose. 
 The great room was called the Apollo, and here 
 met the Apollo Club, presided over by Ben Jonson. 
 The rules of the club, written in verse by the mas- 
 ter of the Tribe of Ben, were prominently placed 
 above the great sculptured fire-place. None but 
 guests were to be admitted; dunces were to stay at 
 home; learned men should be invited; no offence 
 allowed to guests ; no discussion of serious sub- 
 jects; no itinerant fiddlers were allowed in the 
 sacred precincts; jests must be void of personal re- 
 flections ; poets could not recite insipid verses ; and 
 the transactions of the club must be kept a secret. 
 
238 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 In spite of the last prohibition we know enough to 
 wish that we could go back in time and witness the 
 celebrated combats of wit that used to take place 
 in the room guarded by the bust of Apollo over the 
 door, where the author of Sejanus wielded the 
 mallet and ruled the roost as king. 
 
 On the east side of the Fleet River stood the 
 Fleet Prison. It was originally regarded as espe- 
 cially the prison for persons committed by the Star 
 Chamber Court, though it was also used for per- 
 sons committed by the Court of Chancery. 
 
 " The damned in hell never cease repining at the 
 justice of God, nor the prisoners in the fleet at 
 the Decrees of Chauncery." (The Lord Keeper to 
 the Duke, Dec. 16, 1621. Cabala, p. 65.) Star 
 Chamber prisoners were conducted to the Fleet by 
 water through a gate similar to the Traitors' Gate 
 in the Tower. The old method of punishing 
 drunkards was by the stocks, from which, if they 
 escaped, they were set for shame and scorn in a 
 tub at the gate of the Fleet. The chief ofBcer was 
 called the warden, and certain Hmits in the neigh- 
 bourhood where occasional prisoners were allowed 
 to lodge outside the prison walls were under his 
 jurisdiction. 
 
 Lord Surrey, the poet, who was confined in the 
 Fleet, dubbed it a noisome place with a pestilent 
 atmosphere. Bishop Hooper, the martyr, was con- 
 
THE STRAND 239 
 
 fined here and treated most outrageously. Keys 
 was here confined for marrying the sister of Lady 
 Jane Grey, as was Sir Anthony Shirley, the great 
 traveller, for having accepted the order of St. 
 JMichael and St. George from Henry IV. of France, 
 without first having asked the permission of Eliza- 
 beth. " I will not," she said, " have my Sheep 
 marked with a strange brand, nor suffer them to 
 follow the pipe of a strange shepherd." Nash, the 
 poet, William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, and Dr. 
 Donne were also imprisoned in the Fleet; one for 
 writing the Isle of Dogs, the second because he was 
 the seducer of one of Elizabeth's maids of honour, 
 and the last for marrying his wife without her 
 father's consent. The famous Fleet marriages are 
 of later date, the earliest on record being in 1613. 
 If one turns out of the south side of Fleet Street 
 along the present Whitefriars and Carmelite 
 Streets he traverses a region perfectly familiar to 
 every reader who has delighted in the romances of 
 the Wizard of the North. For here, with the 
 Thames on the south, Bridewell on the east, and the 
 Temple on the west, lay that famous den of iniquity 
 that sheltered Nigel in the time of his adversity. 
 Alsatia, says Strype, "was formerly, since its 
 building in houses, inhabited by gentry ; but some 
 of the inhabitants taking it upon them to protect 
 persons from arrest, upon a pretended privilege 
 
240 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 belonging to the place, the gentry left it, and it 
 became a sanctuary unto the inhabitants, which 
 they kept up by force against law and justice; so 
 that it was sufficiently crowded with such disabled 
 and loose kind of lodgers. But, however, upon a 
 great concern of debt, the sheriff with the posse 
 comitatus forced his way in to make a search ; and 
 yet to httle purpose ; for the time of the sheriff's 
 coming not being concealed, and they having notice 
 thereof, took flight, either to the Mint in South- 
 wark, or some other private place, until the hurly- 
 burly was over." 
 
 Hardly more need be said concerning the prac- 
 tices of Alsatia which are so familiar from the ac- 
 curate description in Scott's Fortunes of Nigel. 
 Another trustworthy delineation of the same place 
 at a somewhat later date is to be found in Shad- 
 well's Squire of Alsatia. 
 
 Of Temple Bar, which stood in the immediate 
 vicinity, it is sufficient to say that the structure so 
 familiar to every one through pictures illustrative 
 of eighteenth century London was built subse- 
 quent to the Elizabethan Era. It doubtless con- 
 sisted at first of a mere chain and posts such as 
 Holborn Bars, Smithfield Bars, etc., that marked 
 the city liberties. There was, however, some sort 
 of a structure on this site that was worthy the name 
 of a gate, as early as 1532. 
 
THE STRAND 24.1 
 
 The Strand, as has been said, was httle better 
 than a mud road in the middle of the sixteenth 
 century. It was bordered on the south side by a 
 line of splendid palaces, but their fronts were all 
 towards the river. The stable-yards and back 
 walls only abutted on the Strand. During the 
 reign of Elizabeth, however, the appearance of this 
 thoroughfare changed considerably. Most of it 
 was paved, a continuous line of buildings, some of 
 a very substantial character, was erected on the 
 north side, and it came into more general use as 
 a passage to Westminster. There were three 
 bridges over the Strand: Strand Bridge, between 
 Surrey Street and Somerset Place; Ivy Bridge, 
 between Salisbury Street and the Adelphi; and a 
 third bridge opposite the end of Essex Street. 
 Though greatly improved, the Strand remained 
 for many years in a very poor condition as to pav- 
 ing, as is shown by the following quotation: 
 
 " The 18th December [1656], J. Naylor suf- 
 fered part: and after having stood full two hours 
 with his head in the pillory, was stripped and 
 whipped at a cart's tail, from Palace Yard to the 
 Old Exchange, and received three hundred and ten 
 stripes ; and the executioner would have given him 
 one more (as he confessed to the sheriff) there be- 
 ing three hundred and eleven kennels, but his foot 
 slipping, the stroke fell upon his own hand which 
 
242 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 hurt him much." (Sewel's History of the 
 Quakers.) According to this account, there were 
 at that time 311 open guUies crossing the road 
 between Westminster and the Royal Exchange. 
 
 The first of that splendid line of palaces along 
 the river, which was the pride of London and 
 astonished foreigners, was Exeter House. It be- 
 longed to the see of Exeter in old times. It fell 
 next into the hands of Lord William Paget, during 
 whose occupancy it was known as Paget House. 
 Its most famous occupant during the reign of 
 Elizabeth was her favourite, the unscrupulous 
 Hobert Dudley. While he lived there many illus- 
 trious personages trod its halls. It was there, 
 doubtless, that he directed the movements of his 
 wicked minions, one of whom Sir Walter Scott has 
 pictured so graphically in the character of Varney. 
 Leicester House, as it was called during the owner- 
 ship of Dudley, next became the property of 
 Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, and was re- 
 christened Essex House. The site is marked by 
 the present Essex Street. 
 
 " Near to the Temple stands a stately place, 
 Where I gayned giftes and the goodly grace 
 Of that great lord who there was wont to dwell, 
 Whose want too well now feels my friendless case; 
 But, ah! here fits not well 
 Old woes," 
 
THE STRAND 243 
 
 wrote Spencer of Essex House. From there the 
 young favourite set out for that "commonwealth 
 of woe," as Raleigh called Ireland, an expedition 
 commemorated forever in the Prologue to Henry V. 
 To Essex House he returned in an ill-starred 
 moment of rash boldness, to defy the Queen's com- 
 mand. 
 
 The story of Essex's rebellion is too familiar 
 to need repetition. SuiEce it to say that it was 
 conducted from Essex House ; there he imprisoned 
 the officers charged with investigation; thence he 
 issued with his followers towards the city; and, 
 when the gates of the citj- closed behind him, it was 
 to Essex House he returned, a hunted fugitive, by 
 boat upon the river. There he was besieged hke a 
 rat in a hole tiU surrender sent him to his trial and 
 a well-merited execution. 
 
 Next on the west stood the old house of the 
 Bishop of Bath, better known as Arundel House. 
 It was rebuilt by Thomas Seymour, Lord High 
 Admiral, and called Seymour House. Then it 
 passed into the hands of the Earl of Arundel, 
 Henry Fitzalan, who died in 1579, who was suc- 
 ceeded by his grandson, Phihp Howard, Earl of 
 Arundel, son of the Duke of Norfolk. Philip was 
 attainted and died abroad in 1595. In 1603 it was 
 granted to Charles, Earl of Nottingham, but again 
 returned to the person of Thomas, son of Phihp, 
 
244 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 who four years later was restored to the Earldom 
 of Arundel. The names of some of its various 
 owners are preserved in the streets that now mark 
 its site: Arundel, Norfolk, Surrey, and Howard. 
 
 The Due de Sully, who was lodged here, speaks 
 of it as fine and commodious, but pictures of the 
 building show it to be low and mean in comparison 
 with its palatial neighbours ; but the river view was 
 unrivalled and its gardens were of considerable ex- 
 tent. Every one knows the story of Essex's ring, 
 which, if tradition is to believed, might have saved 
 his life. The hand of death fell upon the Countess 
 of Nottingham while she lived in Arundel House, 
 and so awakened her conscience that she sent for 
 the Queen to confess her own part in suppressing 
 the claim of the favourite's ring. Elizabeth never 
 recovered the blow of Devereux's treachery nor 
 could she bear to hear the subject mentioned with- 
 out great agitation. The presence of death, till 
 it appeared to herself, had no terrors for Eliz- 
 abeth. At the news about the undelivered ring 
 she caught the dying countess by the shoulder and 
 fairly shook the life out of her, crying, " God may 
 forgive you, but I never can." 
 
 The palace that stood between Arundel House 
 on the east and .the Savoy on the west was begun 
 on a scale that was intended to make it the finest 
 structure of the kind in London. It stood on the 
 
THE STRAND 245 
 
 site of the present Somerset House, and was built 
 by Protector Somerset, brother of Jane Seymour, 
 and maternal uncle of Edward VI. Two inns be- 
 longing to the sees of Worcester and Litchfield 
 were destroyed to make room for it. So was the 
 priory church of St. John's, Clerkenwell, to fur- 
 nish building stone. Not satisfied with this, Somer- 
 set carried his vandahsm stiU further, in the search 
 for ready-made building stone, and removed the 
 great cloister in the north churchyard of St. 
 Paul's about which was painted the Dance of 
 Death. The Protector was beheaded in 1552, and 
 the building, though nearly completed, was 
 stopped. Just how much was completed at the 
 time it reverted to the crown is not known. During 
 a part of Mary's reign it was appropriated to the 
 use of Elizabeth, who in 1596 granted it to her 
 cousin, Lord Hunsdon, for life. 
 
 The site of the Savoy, which stood on the south 
 side of the Strand, is sufficiently marked by the 
 chapel which still remains, situated on the west side 
 of Savoy Street. Even in Elizabethan times the 
 glory of the Savoy was mainly traditional. The 
 earhest record of it is in 124!6, when the site 
 was granted by Henry III. to his uncle, Peter of 
 Savoy. 
 
 The limits of the original grant were the Strand, 
 the river. Strand Lane (where is now the approach 
 
246 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 to Waterloo Bridge) ; and on the west the house of 
 the Bishop of CarHsle, whose site is now covered by 
 the Beaufort Buildings. Peter of Savoy built, 
 presumably, a castle which he left to the friars of 
 Mountjoy in 1268, who in turn sold it to Queen 
 Eleanor in 1270. In 1284 Queen Eleanor granted 
 it to her son Edmund of Lancaster, who walled it 
 about in 1293. It was he who brought home the 
 first red roses to England from Provence, eventu- 
 ally to become the badge of his house through long 
 and bloody civil wars. In 1386 the old Savoy was 
 destroyed, and it remained mostly in ruins till 
 opened as a hospital by Henry VII. in 1517. 
 
 The new buildings, of which only the chapel now 
 remains, were on a very magnificent scale, and were 
 long considered one of the sights of London. On 
 the Dissolution it was surrendered to the King, and 
 all the movable furniture, except that belonging 
 to the chapel, went to enrich the new house of cor- 
 rection at Bridewell. 
 
 The Savoy hospital was re-established, but on a 
 smaller scale, by Queen Mary, and only escaped a 
 second dissolution at the accession of Elizabeth 
 because of its insignificance. It continued to jog 
 along with indifferent fortunes throughout the 
 Queen's reign. In 1560 Fleetwood, Recorder of 
 London, in a letter to Lord Burleigh, describes it as 
 " the chief nursery of all these evil people." It 
 
THE STRAND 247 
 
 was considered to possess the right of sanctuary, 
 and was long a disreputable harbourage for debtors 
 and disorderly persons, similar to Alsatia. 
 
 Opposite the Savoy, on the north side of the 
 Strand, was Burleigh House. Here lived the great- 
 est Englishman of the age. To him is due the 
 expansion and prosperity of England in the six- 
 teenth century; Elizabeth trusted him alone of all 
 her councillors, and though sometimes a quarrel 
 seemed imminent between them, she always reaUsed 
 before it was too late that the whole strength and 
 safety of her ship of state depended upon the 
 great man whom she had put at the helm. 
 
 " The house of the Right Honourable Lord Bur- 
 leigh," says Norden, " Lord Treasurer of England 
 and by him erected, standing on the north side of 
 the Strand, a very fair house, raised with bricks, 
 proportionably adorned with four turrets placed 
 at the four quarters of the house ; within, it is 
 curiously beautified with rare devices, and espe- 
 cially the oratory, placed in an angle of the great 
 chamber. Unto this is annexed on the east a proper 
 house of the Honourable Sir Robert Cecil, Knight, 
 and of Her Majesty's most honourable Privy 
 Council." (The site of Burleigh and Cecil House 
 is marked by Burleigh Street. William Cecil's 
 son built a house on the south side of the Strand, 
 which he called Cecil House. Its site is marked by 
 
248 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 Cecil Street. Thomas Cecil, Earl of Exeter, later 
 occupied Burleigh House on the north side of the 
 Strand. He re-named it Exeter House, which 
 should not be confused with the same name for- 
 merly applied to Leicester or Essex House.) 
 
 The site of Durham House is now occupied by 
 the Adelphi as far as Coutts's Bank. Just how or 
 when the first house of the name on this site was 
 built is not known, though the following reference 
 in Stow is not to the original building. " Durham 
 House, built by Thomas Hatfield, Bishop of Dur- 
 ham, who was made bishop of that see in 1345 and 
 sat Bishop there thirty-six years." In the reign 
 of Henry VIII. Durham House was part of a 
 forced exchange in which Cuthbert Tunstall, then 
 Bishop of Durham, was forced to accept in its place 
 Cold Harbour and other houses in London. Henry 
 seems to have granted it to the Earl of Wiltshire ; 
 in 1550 M. de Castillon, the French Ambassador, 
 was lodged there ; in the 2d of Edward VI. it was 
 granted to the Lady Elizabeth (afterwards the 
 Queen) for life. Elizabeth, however, never occu- 
 pied Durham House. After the execution of Som- 
 erset the all-powerful Dudley, Duke of Northum- 
 berland, took it for himself and gave the princess 
 Somerset House. It then became Dudley's princi- 
 pal residence. He was hving here at the death of 
 Edward, and it was the scene of the ill-starred mar- 
 
THE STRAND 249 
 
 riages of his children. Mary at her accession re- 
 stored it to Bishop Tunstall. 
 
 From the accession of Elizabeth to 1563 it was 
 occupied by DeFeria, the Spanish ambassador, and 
 was the centre of much Catholic and Spanish in- 
 trigue against the throne. From time to time after 
 the expulsion of DeFeria it was lent for varying 
 periods of time. Ambrose Cave was there in 1565 ; 
 Sir Henry Sidney was there in 1567 ; Essex was 
 living there when he set out for Ireland in 1573 ; 
 and in 1583 it came into the possession of Sir Wal- 
 ter Raleigh, who held it till his fall. 
 
 Mr. Hume* thus describes the place at the begin- 
 ning of Elizabeth's reign: 
 
 "With the evidence now before us we can form 
 an approximate idea of the appearance of Durham 
 Place at the time. The Strand was a rough, un- 
 paved road, with a fringe of shops and taverns on 
 the northern side, whilst on the south side were the 
 back walls and outer courts of the riverine man- 
 sions. The principal land gateway of Durham 
 Place stood exactly opposite the spot now occupied 
 by the Adelphi Theatre. The English custodian, 
 or porter, who was in the pay of the Queen, had his 
 dwelling just inside the gate, where he could spy 
 those who went in and out on the land side. On 
 
 *See the paper, A Palace in the Strand, in The Year 
 After the Armada, by Martin A. S. Hume. 
 
250 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 each side of the gate in the outer courtyard were 
 stables and outhouses, and in and around the gate- 
 way in the street were benches where idlers and 
 hangers-on sat and lounged through the day, gos- 
 sipping in various tongues and boasting of the 
 prowess of their respective countrymen. On the 
 other side of the street nearly opposite was a tavern 
 called the ' Chequers,' which drove a roaring trade 
 with the men-at-arms, Court danglers, and serving- 
 men who were constantly passing to and from 
 Whitehall and St. James'. Opposite the gateway, 
 across the large outer courtyard, was the door of 
 the great hall, generally standing open for the 
 neighbours to pass through it to the inner or 
 smaller courtyard, in which stood a water-conduit 
 fed by a ' spring of fair water in Covent Garden.' 
 Beyond this inner courtyard stood the house itself 
 at the bottom of the slope on the bank of the river 
 at the spot now occupied by the arches that support 
 Adelphi Terrace. It was a castellated structure 
 with its water-gate placed in the middle of the cur- 
 tain between two turrets, and leading not, as usually 
 was the case, through a garden, but straight from 
 the steps into the house itself by an enclosed pent- 
 house doorway. The domestic offices, and prob- 
 ably the chapel, were on the ground floor, but the 
 principal dwelling rooms were all up stairs and in 
 the turrets. Aubrey, in his letters (vol. iii. 573), 
 
o 
 
 K 
 
 « 
 O 
 
 < 
 
 P< 
 
THE STRAND 251 
 
 thus speaks of Raleigh's occupancy of one of these 
 turrets : ' Durham House was a noble palace. After 
 he came to his greatness, he lived there or in some 
 apartment of it. I well remember his study, which 
 was on a little turret that looked into and over the 
 Thames, and had a prospect which is as pleasant as 
 any in the world.' 
 
 " The water-gate of the house was not the only 
 approach to the river, as there was a space with 
 trees on each side of the house, with a dwarf wall 
 fronting the water, and a descent on one side by 
 which the neighbours were allowed to get water 
 from the stream for washing and similar purposes. 
 It will thus be seen that the only really private part 
 was the house itself between the inner courtyard and 
 the river; the great hall and both the courtyards 
 being practically open to the public under the 
 supervision of the custodian at the outer gate, who 
 was responsible only to the Queen, and was a con- 
 stant source of friction with the foreign occupants 
 of the house." 
 
 York House, which stood west of Durham 
 House, was obtained by Heath, Archbishop of 
 York, during the reign of Mary in exchange for 
 Suifolk House in Southwark. It seems to have 
 been let by the Archbishops of York to the Lord 
 Keepers of the Seal. Francis Bacon was born in 
 York House in 1560-1 ; and his father died here in 
 
252 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 1579, as did Lord Keeper Puckering in 1596. Per- 
 haps the most interesting remnant of this part of 
 old London is to be found on the Thames Embank- 
 ment ; for there, in the midst of the Embankment 
 Gardens, still stands in a perfect state of preserva- 
 tion the ornamental stone portico that once shel- 
 tered the river entrance to York House. It not 
 only affords an interesting illustration of what the 
 old river landings of these splendid places were like, 
 but also marks the border of the Thames, then so 
 much farther to the north than at present. (York 
 House should not be confused with York Place, the 
 old name for Whitehall when in the possession of 
 Wolsey.) 
 
 Passing the village of Charing Cross, in Eliza- 
 beth's time a tiny cluster of houses that formed a 
 hamlet distinct from Westminster, passing also 
 Scotland Yard, we come to Whitehall, the palace 
 of the kings of England from Henry VIII. to Wil- 
 ham III. 
 
 Of Queen Elizabeth's royal palace of White- 
 hall nothing remains. It was originally built 
 by Hubert de Burgh during the reign of Henry 
 III. He bequeathed it to the convent of the 
 Blackfriars in Holbom, and they sold it to Walter 
 de Grey, Archbishop of York, in 1248. From 
 that time it was called York House until re- 
 named Whitehall by Henry VIII. It occupied a 
 
THE STRAND 253 
 
 large space of ground fronting upon the Thames, 
 with a front of a less pretentious kind towards St. 
 James's Park. Scotland Yard was the northern 
 boundary, and Cannon Row, Westminster, the 
 southern. There was a public thoroughfare 
 through the palace from Charing Cross to West- 
 minster, spanned by two gates, one known as White- 
 hall Gate, the other as the King's Gate. Henry at 
 once built a tilt yard and a cockpit, and additional 
 buildings were added in succeeding reigns. Hentz- 
 ner thus speaks of it in 159,8 : 
 
 " This palace is truly royal ; inclosed on one side 
 by the Thames, on the other by a park, which con- 
 nects it with St. James's, another royal palace. 
 Near the palace are seen an immense num- 
 ber of swans, who wander up and down the river for 
 miles in great security. ... In the park is 
 great plenty of deer. ... In the garden ad- 
 joining to this palace is a jet d'eau, which while 
 strangers are looking at it, a quantity of water 
 forced by a wheel, which the gardener turns at a 
 distance, through a number of little pipes, plenti- 
 fully sprinkles those that are standing round." 
 
 " During several years," writes Mr. Wheatley, 
 " of the reign of Henry VIII. Whitehall was the 
 scene of many of those splendid jousts and revels 
 in which he delighted till age and sickness had 
 soured his temper. Here too passed before him 
 
254 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 those mighty musters of the citizens and train- 
 bands which contemporary annalists describe with 
 so much enjoyment. It was in Whitehall that at 
 midnight, on January 25, 1533, the unfortunate 
 Anne Boleyn was married to the wife-slaying mon- 
 arch. 
 
 " Edward VI. held a parliament here, and here 
 listened to the preaching of Latimer. At the out- 
 set of the reign of Mary Whitehall was attacked 
 by a party of Wyatt's followers; and a few days 
 after the Queen had the satisfaction of seeing the 
 misguided rabble kneel in the mire in front of 
 Whitechapel, with halters round their necks, and 
 crave her mercy, which she, looking over the gate, 
 graciously accorded, whereat they set up a mighty 
 shout of 'God save Queen Mary.' Mary spent 
 many solitary days here, and here her ecclesiastical 
 adviser. Bishop Gardiner, died, November 15, 1556. 
 Elizabeth restored to Whitehall its former splen- 
 dour and festivity. She built a new Banqueting 
 House and gave many magnificent feasts ; held 
 tourneys and jousts, where knights like Sir Harry 
 Lee, Sir Christopher Hatton . . . kept the 
 barriers against all comers ; and saw grave trage- 
 dies and courtly masques, and sometimes baitings 
 of bulls and bears and the performances of mimes 
 and tumblers." 
 
 The great fabric of Henry VIII. and Queen 
 
THE STRAND 255 
 
 Elizabeth was not sufficient for James. Under his 
 architect's care plans were drawn up for rebuilding 
 the whole upon a stupendous scale. The present 
 banqueting house, built upon the site of that erected 
 by EHzabeth, was the only part of that plan ever 
 put into execution. 
 
 Every volume must have a limit; and, as it is 
 necessary to exclude many of the interesting Lon- 
 don environs from the present volume, it is also 
 necessary to look upon what was then the really 
 distinct city of Westminster as outside our limits. 
 Hence the briefest possible description will suf- 
 fice. 
 
 " Thorney may be described as an island lying 
 off the coast of Middlesex in the estuary of the 
 Thames. It was very scientifically described for 
 us about half a century ago by William Bardwell 
 of Park Street, Westminster, one of the architects 
 of the ' Westminster Improvement Company.' He 
 says it is about 470 yards long and 370 yards 
 wide, and is washed on the east by the Thames, on 
 the south by a rivulet running down CoUege Street, 
 on the north by another stream which flows or flowed 
 through Gardiner's Lane, the two being joined by 
 the ' Long Ditch ' which formed a western bound- 
 ary, as nearly as possible where Prince's Street is 
 now. Within the narrow hmit thus described stand 
 the Abbey and the Houses of ParUament and 
 
256 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 other familiar buildings." (Loftie's Westminster 
 Abbey.) 
 
 Stow describes Westminster as extending on the 
 east to Ivy Lane Bridge, west and south along the 
 Thames, and westward from the Abbey for some 
 little distance along Tothill Street. Besides Dur- 
 ham House and Whitehall, " then was there," says 
 Stow, " an Hospital of St. Mary Rouncivall by 
 Charing Cross [opposite the present Charing 
 Cross Post-OfEce] (a cell to the priory and con- 
 vent of Rouncivall in Navar, in Pampelion Dio- 
 cese), where a fraternity was founded in the 15th 
 of Edward IV., but now the same is suppressed and 
 turned into tenements. . . . Near unto this 
 hospital was a hermitage, with a Chapel of St. 
 Katharine, over against Charing Cross ; which cross 
 built of stone was of old time a fair piece of work. 
 West of this cross stood some time an 
 hospital of St. James. This hospital was surren- 
 dered to Henry VIII. the 23d of his reign ; the sis- 
 ters being compounded with were allowed pensions 
 for the term of their lives ; and the king built there 
 a goodly manor, annexing thereunto a park, closed 
 about with a wall of brick, now called St. James's 
 Park, serving indifferently to the said mapor, and 
 to the manor or palace of Whitehall. 
 
 " South from Charing Cross on the right hand 
 are divers fair houses lately built before the park. 
 
THE S TRAND 257 
 
 then a large tilt-yard for noblemen, and other, to 
 exercise themselves in jousting, turning, and fight- 
 ing at the barriers. 
 
 "On the left hand from Charing Cross be also 
 divers fair tenements lately built, till you come to a 
 large plot of ground enclosed with brick, and is 
 caUed Scotland, where great buildings have been 
 for the receipt of the kings of Scotland, and other 
 estates of that country." 
 
 Stow then goes on to describe Whitehall and 
 Westminster Abbey. On rather legendary author- 
 ity this establishment is said to date from circa 616. 
 It is, however, plainly mentioned in a charter of 
 Oifa, King of Mercia, A. D. 785. The present 
 Abbey was founded by Edward the Confessor and 
 dedicated to St. Peter. It was consecrated on Inno- 
 cents' Day, December 28, 1065, a week before the 
 King died. Of this building very little remains be- 
 yond certain portions of the substructure of the 
 dormitory and the dark cloister south of the south 
 transept. Of the present church, Edward the 
 Confessor's Chapel was built by Henry III., as 
 were the choir and transepts. The four bays west 
 of the transept (including the west end of the 
 choir and the first bay of the nave) are of the time 
 of Edward I. The remainder of the nave to the 
 west door was built in the fifteenth century. Henry 
 VII.'s Chapel was built by that king. 
 
258 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 " Kings and queens crowned in this church," says 
 Stow, " William, sur-named the Conquerer, and 
 Matilde his wife, were the first, and since then all 
 other kings and queens of this realm have been there 
 crowned. 
 
 " In the year 1559, in the month of July, . . . 
 Queen Elizabeth made the said monastery a college, 
 instituting there a dean, twelve prebends, a school- 
 master, and usher, forty scholars, called commonly 
 the Queen's scholars, twelve almsmen ; and so it was 
 named the Collegiate Church of Westminster, 
 founded by Queen Elizabeth, who placed Dr. Bill, 
 first dean of that new erection; after whom suc- 
 ceeded Dr. Gabriel Goodman, who governed that 
 church forty years, and after Dr. Launcelet An- 
 ■drewes." (Stow.) 
 
 " This church hath great j)rivilege of sanctuary 
 within the precinct thereof, to wit, the church, 
 churchyard, and close, &c. ; from whence it hath 
 not been lawful for any prince or other to take any 
 person that fled thither for any cause." (Stow.) 
 
 " The parish church of St. Margaret, sometime 
 within the Abbey, was by Edward the Confessor 
 removed, and built without for ease of the monks. 
 This church continued till the days of Edward I., 
 at which time the merchants of the staple and par- 
 ishioners of Westminster built it all of new, the 
 great chancel excepted, which was built by the 
 
THE STRAND 259 
 
 abbots of Westminster; and this remaineth now a 
 fair parish church, though sometime in danger of 
 pulKng down." (Stow.) 
 
 Westminster Hall was originally built in the 
 reign of King Rufus. The present hall dates from 
 1399, when the old hall was considerably altered. 
 The early parliaments were held in this hall, and it 
 with its accompanying buildings constituted the 
 palace from William the Conqueror tiU Henry VIII. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 SOUTHWARK 
 
 SOUTHWARK, lying on the only approach 
 to London from the south, had a separate 
 existence from very early times, and was there- 
 fore a thorn in the side of the greater city across 
 the Thames. Many and long were the complaints 
 to the King concerning those criminals who exe- 
 cuted their crimes in London and flew for safety 
 across the bridge to the Surrey side. Edward 
 III. granted to the city of London certain rights 
 over Southwark which, however, proved insufficient. 
 Henry IV. in the seventh year of his reign granted 
 a patent to the city giving power to arrest robbers 
 and other malefactors in the town of Southwark, 
 and to bring them thence to the prison of 
 Newgate, and to exercise almost every kind of 
 jurisdiction there. Edward IV. granted further 
 privileges, but the relation between the two towns 
 remained in a state of confusion till the reign of 
 Edward VI. 
 
 This sovereign granted to London divers prop- 
 erties and privileges, the most important of which 
 are as follows : " All waifs, astrays, treasure-trove, 
 goods and chattels of traitors, felons, fugitives, 
 
 260 
 
SOUTHWARK 261 
 
 outlaws, condemned persons, convict persons, and 
 felons defamed, and of such as be put in exigent 
 of outlawry, felons of themselves, and deodends, 
 and of such as refuse the law of the land: and all 
 goods disclaimed, found, or being within the said 
 borough, town, parishes, and precincts ; and all 
 manner of escheats and forfeitures." That the 
 officers of London should have " the taste and 
 assize of bread, wine, ale, and beer, and all other 
 victuals and things whatsoever, . . . and the 
 correction and punishment of all persons there 
 selling " various commodities ; " and that they shall 
 have the execution of the king's writ, and of all 
 other writs ... as they should choose." 
 
 The grant goes on to state other details of the 
 local government of Southwark that were to be 
 undertaken by the city of London. "About a 
 month after the said Borough of Southwark was 
 granted by King Edward VI. to the Mayor, Com- 
 monalty, and Citizens of London; and that they 
 by the force of the said letters patent, stood 
 charged with the ordering, survey, and govern- 
 ment of the same borough, and of all the king's 
 subjects inhabiting therein and repairing thither; 
 at a court holden before Sir Rowland Hill, Knight, 
 then Lord Mayor of London, and the aldermen of 
 the same city, in the Guildhall of London, on 
 Tuesday, the eighth and twentieth day of May, in 
 
262 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 the said fourth year of the reign of King Edward 
 VI., the said town and borough was named and 
 called the Ward of Bridgeward Without: and Sir 
 John AylifFe, Knight, citizen, and Barber-Sur- 
 geon of London was then also named, elected, 
 and chosen by the same court, to be alderman 
 of the same ward, albeit that before that time 
 there neither was any such ward or alderman." 
 (Strype). _ _ _ 
 
 With this reorganisation the reproach of in- 
 iquity somewhat abated; but Southwark remained 
 particularly famous in three directions: (1) for 
 its many noble residences; (2) for its taverns; (3) 
 for its brew houses, inasmuch as the taverns were 
 not allowed to brew their own ale. 
 
 The region roundabout was low, marshy, and 
 subject to all sorts of fevers and agues, as well 
 as to such diseases as were due to contaminated 
 water; for the sub-soil was extremely porous and 
 there were all sorts of percolations and leakages, 
 carrying the impurities of cess-pools and grave- 
 yards to the subterranean water-courses that 
 supplied the wells. Except along the streets, and 
 along the river bank on either side of the bridge, 
 the region now so thoroughly occupied by trade 
 was covered with woods or fields and gardens, and 
 intersected in every direction by streamlets crossed 
 by numerous bridges. 
 
SOUTH WARK 263 
 
 In the time of Stow the populated part of this 
 ward was shaped something Hke a cross, with the 
 centre at the Bridge-foot. The houses included 
 within the ward extended along the bridge part 
 way, along the river half a mile in either direction, 
 and straight away south towards Newington for 
 nearly a mile. The territory is described in the 
 following pages thus: (1) from the Bridge-foot 
 south to the extremity of the ward; (2) from 
 the Bridge-foot east; (3) from the Bridge-foot 
 west. 
 
 The ward extended north along the bridge as 
 far as the seventh arch from the south end, where 
 was the draw-bridge. The shops between this 
 point and the Traitors' Gate, or tower over the 
 entrance, were occupied by Southwark folk. The 
 houses constituted a solid mass of buildings, with 
 the bridge-way like an arcade running beneath. 
 TiU 1577 the gate at the north end of the bridge 
 had been used as the principal resting place for 
 traitors' heads, but the gate, then falling into 
 decay, was no longer so used, and these dismal tro- 
 phies were removed to the south gate. Beneath 
 the third arch, between the gate and the draw, was 
 a mass of sunken masonry that gave rise to the 
 name of the Rock Loch. This debris was probably 
 deposited by a former accident when a part of 
 the bridge collapsed; at all events, it helped to 
 
264 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 make the passage by boat more dangerous, which, 
 at the best of times, was sufficiently risky. 
 
 The Traitors' Gate, with its massive doors, was 
 the scene of many an ancient conflict and triumph. 
 Here Sir Thomas Wyatt was stopped on his way 
 to London, when the pretext of his insurrection 
 was to prevent the marriage of Queen Mary to 
 Philip of Spain. Soon afterward this same gate 
 was the scene of a great triumph, as the royal pair 
 returned to London from their wedding at Win- 
 chester. Here, too, thirty or more years later, 
 in September, 1588, a great jollification took place 
 over the defeat of this same Philip, on which 
 occasion the flags captured from the " Invincible 
 Armada " waved gloriously over the Traitors' 
 Gate. 
 
 Standing at the very foot of the bridge and 
 looking south, one had at his left Tooley Street, 
 which led east along the Thames to Battle Bridge, 
 where a road to the right led to Bermondsey 
 Abbey ; on one's right was a passage west towards 
 Bankside; and directly in front was Long South- 
 wark, the main street of the ward, which led to 
 St. Margaret's Hill and Blackman's Street. From 
 this point one could view the market-place in the 
 midst of Long Southwark, the site of the annual 
 fairs held in September. The last house at the 
 Bridge-foot, on the observer's right, was the Bear 
 
SOUTHWARK 265 
 
 Tavern, which was anciently most popular because 
 of its proximity to the river, whence a boat could 
 be summoned to convey a passenger to any part 
 of the river-front of London. 
 
 As we leave the Bridge-foot we pass Tooley 
 Street on the left, and Pepper Alley on the right, 
 which led behind the Bishop of Winchester's house 
 to Bankside. We pass almost immediately White 
 Horse Court, Checker Alley, and Boar's Head 
 Court, which in later times marked the sites of 
 three famous Elizabethan inns. One should not 
 confuse this Boar's Head with the more famous 
 tavern across the river in Eastcheap ; and many 
 so-called Shakespeare scholars have tired them- 
 selves in the attempt to prevent confusion and to 
 establish correctly the relative facts. The fol- 
 lowing from Rendle and Norman's Irms of Old 
 SouthwarJc is interesting as an example of how 
 small a seed of fact can give rise to a huge tree 
 of dispute. 
 
 " In the map of 1542 prefixed to my account of 
 Old Southwark and its people, in which many 
 borough inns appear, the Boar's Head, although 
 not actually named, is figured next the Ship and 
 Black Swan, immediately north of St. Thomas's 
 Hospital. In Eastcheap almost at the same dis- 
 tance from the city end of Old London Bridge as 
 this was from the Southwark end, stood the Boar's 
 
266 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 Head of Shakespeare's play. The city inn looked 
 upon the burying ground of St. Michael's, 
 Crooked Lane, as the other upon the Flemish bury- 
 ing ground in Southwark. At the former was 
 laid the revelries of Prince Hal and his fat friend 
 Sir John FalstafF — the latter was, curiously enough, 
 the property of Sir John Fastolfe. In 1602 the 
 Lords of Council, in a letter to the Lord Mayor, 
 grant permission to the servants of the Earl of 
 Oxford and Worcester to play at the Boar's Head 
 in Eastcheap. The Southwark inns also were 
 doubtless so used; the Boar's Head among the 
 rest." With that uncertain word " doubtless " 
 let the evidence end; we shall not continue the 
 attempt to draw a comparison between the man 
 named Falstaff and him named Fastolfe, men 
 who, though quite unlike to other eyes, are as sim- 
 ilar to the antiquarian lawyer as two bees in a 
 bonnet. 
 
 Of the Checker Tavern it is enough to describe 
 the origin of its sign. " During the Middle Ages," 
 says Dr. Lardner, in his Treatise on Arithmetic, 
 " it was usual for merchants, accountants, and 
 judges who arranged matters of revenue, to appear 
 on a covered banc (from the Saxon word meaning 
 seat, hence our bank). Before them was placed 
 a flat surface covered by a black cloth, divided by 
 parallel lines into perpendicular columns, these 
 
SOUTHWARK 267 
 
 again transversely by lines crossing the former, so 
 as to separate each column into squares. This 
 table was called an exchequer, from its resemblance 
 to a chess-board, and the calculations were made 
 by counters placed on its several divisions (some- 
 thing after the manner of a Roman abacus). A 
 money-changer's office was generally indicated by 
 a sign of the chequered board suspended. The 
 sign afterward came to indicate an inn or house 
 of entertainment, probably from the circumstance 
 of the innkeeper following the trade of a money- 
 changer, a coincidence still very common in seaport 
 towns." 
 
 The latter surmise is, doubtless, quite correct, 
 for in olden times nearly every kind of trade was 
 carried on within the limits of a tavern. 
 
 Directly opposite the Boar's Head, on the west 
 side of the street, was a butcher's shop kept by 
 Thomas Harvard. Here in 1607 was bom John 
 Harvard, his son, the future founder of Harvard 
 College, Cambridge, Mass. Continuing down the 
 street, past the noble church of St. Saviour's, which 
 stood back some distance on the right, we come 
 to the Ship Tavern, the Black Swan, and St. 
 Thomas's Hospital. 
 
 The latter institution fronted on Thieves' Lane 
 (now St. Thomas Street), in those days an 
 obscure by-lane leading to the meadows. The 
 
268 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 buildings in the hospital were arranged in two 
 large quadrangles, with a burial ground opposite, 
 reclaimed from the marsh and surrounded with a 
 brick wall. This institution was of early origin, 
 and was surrendered to the king in 1638 at the 
 Dissolution of the Monasteries. For some time it 
 was neglected and fell into a sad state of ruin. 
 In 1552 it was bought by the city and turned into 
 a hospital. Here was printed by one Nicholson 
 the first copy of Coverdale's Bible printed in 
 England, the earlier copies having been published 
 abroad and sent into the country. 
 
 Opposite St. Thomas's was Fowl Lane, and in 
 the midst of the street the pillory and the cage. 
 In close succession follow the King's Head tavern, 
 the White Hart, the George, and the Tabard. 
 
 The White Hart will always be remembered as 
 the headquarters in 1450 of Jack Cade. Here his 
 lieutenants brought their captives to be judged 
 by the sturdy son of a bricklayer who struck his 
 sword upon London Stone, and who so nearly 
 made himself master of London town. The White 
 Horse was one of the largest of the Southwark 
 taverns, capable of accommodating a hundred or 
 more guests, with their belongings, servants, and 
 horses. It was approached by a long narrow 
 entrance guarded by a massive door with a lattice 
 for observation. This precaution was the more 
 
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SOUTHWARK 269 
 
 necessary in those lawless times because guests 
 usually held the landlord responsible for their 
 property. 
 
 This neighbourhood was also, in the sixteenth 
 century, a centre of the publishing trade. Nichol- 
 son's press was by St. Thomas's Hospital ; Andrew 
 Kempe, St. Margaret's Hill, was near the Tabard. 
 He published Amadis of Gaul, Ovid's Metamor- 
 phoses, Superstitious Jesu Worship, etc., etc. 
 Here Francis Faulkner issued Green's Pandosto, 
 and The Merry Devil of Edmonton. An early 
 manuscript gives eight as the number of printers 
 in the neighbourhood, five of whom were on St. 
 Margaret's Hill. 
 
 Next to the White Hart came the George, and 
 next to that the Tabard, so-called of its sign, a 
 sleeveless herald's coat. This was the most famous 
 as well as the most ancient tavern in Southwark, 
 built about 1306, some dozen years before the Bear 
 at the Bridge-foot. It was here that Chaucer 
 assembled his band of pilgrims before they set 
 out on their way to Canterbury, a custom quite 
 common then; doubtless there were many such 
 assemblies in reality, but none has become so 
 famous as the fictitious gathering of the poet. 
 
 Mr. Hubert Hall of the Public Record Office 
 thus describes the old inn: "The arrangements 
 of this inn about the middle of Elizabeth's reign 
 
270 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 would be much the same as those of any other 
 hostel on the same scale. On the ground floor, 
 looking onto the street was a room called the 
 ' darke parlour.' This was probably the dining- 
 room of the house, as it opened to the kitchen on 
 the same level. Below the dark parlour was a 
 cellar. On the first floor, above the parlour and the 
 hall were three rooms- — ' the middle chamber,' ' the 
 comer chamber,' and ' Master Hussyes chamber,' 
 with garrets or 'cock-lofts' over them. Above 
 the great parlour was another room. There were 
 also rooms called the ' entry-chamber,' and the 
 ' newe chamber,' the ' Flower du Luce,' and ' Mr. 
 Russell's chamber,' of which the position is not 
 specified. A warehouse, presumably under a sepa- 
 rate roof, a coal hole, a double stable with an oat 
 loft over it, and a similar stable with a half loft 
 over it." 
 
 Speght's second edition of Chaucer, 1602, thus 
 describes the condition of the Tabard at the end 
 of Elizabeth's reign. "Whereas through time it 
 hath been much decayed, it is now by Master J. 
 Preston, with the Abbot's House [of Hyde] 
 thereto adjoined, newly repaired, and with con- 
 venient rooms much increased for the receipt of 
 many guests." 
 
 Opposite the Tabard was the site of St. Mar- 
 garet's Church. Till 1540 it had been used as a 
 
SOUTHWARK 271 
 
 parish church ; but, at the Dissolution of the 
 Monasteries, the magnificent church of St. Mary 
 Overies became a white elephant on the borough's 
 hands. Two parishes were united, one of which 
 was St. Margaret's, and the monastic church given 
 to them to be used as a parish church under the 
 name of St. Saviour's. From this time the church 
 of St. Margaret was used as a court-house, the 
 churchyard as a market place, and the whole 
 situation soon passes into obscurity through the 
 confusion of records. The church was probably 
 pulled down in 1546. 
 
 Between the Tabard and the next turning on 
 the left. Long Lane, leading to Bermondsey Abbey, 
 were the Salutation, the Goat, the Cross Keys, the 
 Christopher, the Spur, and the Nag's Head, — all 
 taverns, — the Marshalsea prison, the Mermaid and 
 Half Moon taverns, the King's Bench prison, the 
 White Lion prison, and St. George's Church. 
 
 The White Lion, Stow says, was of olden times 
 a common hostelry. In 1569 a Mr. Cook was 
 keeper, and it was then a criminal prison for 
 Surrey, most frequently filled with religious pris- 
 oners who suff"ered for conscience' sake. Udal, 
 one of the fiercest of the Marprelate men, died here 
 in 1593, to be buried in St. George's churchyard ; 
 and from here John Rigby went to his death in 
 1599. The Marshalsea, sometimes called The 
 
272 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 Epitome of Hell, was at the end of St. Margaret's 
 Hill, opposite Maypole Alley; and the King's 
 Bench half-way between it and St. George's 
 Church. 
 
 This was the very centre of the region occupied 
 by the booths of the great annual fair held in 
 September. Like St. Bartholomew's Fair, held in 
 West Smithfield, this fair was provided with a 
 court of Pie Powder where offenders were caught, 
 tried, and publicly whipped, or put in the stocks, 
 within an hour. 
 
 At the end of St. Margaret's Hill toward the 
 south, at the comer of Long Lane, was St. 
 George's Church, once a beautiful edifice, but by 
 1600 falling into a state of great disrepair. 
 Gower the poet left a bequest to this church; the 
 Bishop of Winchester often held his court here, 
 and sent many a Protestant to the stake during the 
 Marian persecution. One curious punishment for 
 less heinous offences, connected with this church, 
 was that of standing in the porch, or in the middle 
 aisle before service, dressed in a white sheet. The 
 churchyard was mainly filled with the graves of 
 prisoners from the neighbouring prisons. 
 
 Opposite St. George's Church once stood the 
 magnificent house and park of Charles Brandon, 
 Duke of Suffolk. In 1545 it came into the King's 
 hands by purchase. He established there a royal 
 
SOUTHWARK 273 
 
 mint, and named it Southwark Place. The palace 
 was pulled down in 1567, and the neighbourhood 
 became a sanctuary for insolvent debtors, of evil 
 report, similar to Alsatia by the Strand. 
 
 Prom St. George's Church comer Long Lane 
 turned towards the left across the fields of Ber- 
 mondsey Abbey. Not far from the church corner 
 Kent Street turned out of Long Lane to the south. 
 This street was formed on an embankment over 
 the marshy ground, and was part of the ancient 
 Roman road from Dover, through Canterbury, to 
 London. On it, not far from Long Lane, stood 
 the outermost house, called the Loke, a hospital for 
 lepers. 
 
 Let us return now to our starting point at the 
 Bridge-foot and set out along Tooley Street, east- 
 ward by the river side. On the north side of the 
 street, between it and the river, within a stone's 
 throw of the bridge stood the church of St. Olave's, 
 "a fair and meet large church, but a far larger 
 parish, especially of aliens or strangers, and poor 
 people: in which church there lyeth entombed Sir 
 John Bourchettur, Knight, 1466." (Stow.) These 
 strangers were chiefly Flemings and other con- 
 tinental refugees who had fled to England, bring- 
 ing their trades and secrets with them to enrich 
 the country of their adoption. They were pretty 
 numerous in this part of Southwark, possessing 
 
274 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 their own burying ground, and taverns where they 
 especially congregated. 
 
 Almost opposite St. Olave's Church was Smith's 
 Alley. Here was the back part of the Boar's 
 Head that fronted on the High Street. There was 
 also a local prison and the grammar-school of the 
 church, founded by Elizabeth. Here was the 
 Flemish burying ground, referred to above, and 
 the town house of the Abbot of Lewes. Adjoin- 
 ing, in Tooley Street, was the cage, and then 
 Walnut Tree Alley, from the walnut trees that 
 grew thereabout. 
 
 In Tooley Street was the house of Sir John 
 Fastolfe, who owned the Boar's Head tavern in 
 Long Southwark. On the north side, east of the 
 church, was Saint Leger House. It was originally 
 the inn of the Abbot of St. Augustine (near Can- 
 terbury), and had passed into the Saint Leger 
 family. It was sold in 1586 by Sir Richard 
 Grenvile to George Fletcher. Next adjoining, on 
 the east, was the Bridge House, " so called as being 
 a store-house for stone, timber, or whatsoever per- 
 taining to the building or repairing of London 
 Bridge. 
 
 "This house seemeth to have taken beginning 
 with the first founding of the bridge either of 
 stone or timber; it is a large plot of ground, on 
 the bank of the river Thames, containing divers 
 
SOUTHWARK 275 
 
 large buildings for stowage of things necessary 
 towards reparation of the said bridge. 
 
 " There are also divers large garners, for laying 
 up of wheat, and other grainers for service of the 
 city, as need requireth. Moreover, there be cer- 
 tain ovens built, in number ten, of which six be 
 very large, the other four being but half so big. 
 These purposely made to bake out the bread corn 
 of the said grainers, to the best advantage for 
 reHef of the poor citizens, when need should 
 require. Sir John Throstone, knight, sometime 
 an embroiderer, then a goldsmith, one of the 
 sheriffs in 1516, gave by his testament, towards the 
 making of these ovens, two hundred pounds, which 
 thing was performed by his executors. Sir John 
 Munday, goldsmith, then being mayor, there was 
 of late, for the enlarging of the said Bridge House, 
 taken in an old brew-house, called Goldings, which 
 was given to the city by George Monex, sometime 
 mayor, and in place thereof, is now a fair brew 
 house new built, for service of the city with beer." 
 (Stow.) 
 
 William the Conqueror marked his last victory 
 by the erection of Battle Abbey, and the abbot 
 must have his town house. He chose to build it 
 in Southwark, where so many famous inns were 
 clustered close together. 
 
 "Next was the Abbot of Battailes inn, betwixt 
 
276 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 the Bridge House and Battaile bridge, likewise on 
 the bank of the river Thames ; the walks and gar- 
 dens thereunto appertaining, on the other side 
 of the way before the gate of the said house, and 
 was called the Maze ; there is now an inn called the 
 Flower de Luce, for that the sign is three 
 Flower de Luces. Much other buildings of small 
 tenements are thereon builded, replenished with 
 strangers and other, for the most part poor people. 
 
 "Then is Battaile Bridge, so called of Battaile 
 Abbey, for that it standeth on the ground, and 
 over a water course (flowing out of Thames) per- 
 taining to that abbey, and was, therefore, both 
 built and repaired by the abbots of that house, as 
 being hard adjoining to the abbot's lodging." 
 (Stow.) 
 
 This brings us to the limit of the borough in 
 Stow's time. The continuation of Tooley Street 
 was an open lane, leading to the meadows and 
 grazing ground called Horsedown. On the north 
 side there was a spacious garden and vineyard, 
 whence the locality obtained the name of the 
 Vineyard. 
 
 Shortly before reaching Battle Bridge there 
 was a turning out of Tooley Street to the south- 
 east. At the beginning of this Bermondsey 
 Street stood a cross belonging to the abbey of 
 that name, to which the street led. 
 
SOUTHWARK 277 
 
 A short distance south-east of this cross, in the 
 year 1082, Alwyn Child, a citizen of London, 
 founded a monastery for monks of the Cluniac 
 Order. Catharine, wife of Henry V., died there 
 in 1437, as did Elizabeth, widow of Edward IV., 
 in 1492. At the Dissolution the valuable property 
 of Bermondsey Abbey passed to Robert Southwell, 
 Master of the Rolls, who sold it to Sir Thomas 
 Pope. 
 
 This Sir Thomas Pope was a man of consider- 
 able importance in his day. Though a Roman 
 Catholic all his life, his consummate tact enabled 
 him to remain unmolested through the reigns of 
 Henry VIII., and of each of his three children. 
 During Mary's reign Sir Thomas for a while was 
 made keeper of the Princess Elizabeth, a task he 
 executed with so much delicacy that he retained 
 her good will after her accession. At the Disso- 
 lution of the Monasteries he was one of the persons 
 principally concerned in the distribution of the 
 spoils. 
 
 Though he became immensely wealthy during 
 the process — at one time the owner of thirty 
 manors — it must be said in his favour that he 
 was the most nearly honest of all the men con- 
 cerned in this game of national grab. It was said 
 of him that he sailed as close to the wind of hon- 
 esty as man could sail without crossing the line; 
 
278 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 and every one knows that few of his colleagues 
 seemed to know that there was a line in existence. 
 
 On receiving a grant of the Bermondsey prop- 
 erty, he proceeded at once to tear down a part of 
 the church and to use the materials in the construc- 
 tion of a mansion which he named Bermondsey 
 House. At his death, which occurred January 
 29, 1559, of pestilential fever, he left much prop- 
 erty in benefactions, having already endowed 
 Trinity College, Oxford. He was buried with 
 great pomp from the church at Clerkenwell. 
 
 Now let us return once more to our original 
 starting point and glance at the district west of 
 the bridge. Then as now the great glory of 
 Southwark was the parish church of St._Sajiour's, 
 which had been a part of the magnificent monas- 
 tery of St. Mary Overy. The priory church was 
 built by Bishop Gifford of Winchester and others 
 about 1106, when the Augustine priory was either 
 established or reorganised by the Norman knights, 
 William Pont de I'Arche and William Dawncey. 
 The church passed through a varied history, but 
 entered upon an entirely new era before the time 
 of Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 "In October, 1539, the priory was suppressed, 
 the canons were put out, and their place taken by 
 secular priests, the property passing to Sir An- 
 thony Brown, whose son became Viscount Mon- 
 

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SOUTHWARK 279 
 
 tague. In 154*0 the priory was made a parish 
 church — the Httle church of ' Marie Maudley ' 
 (really a chapel attached to the chapel on the 
 south side of the choir) and that of St. Margaret's 
 (in the middle of the High Street) being united 
 with it." (Wheatley.) The former was the 
 church of the parish of St. Mary Magdalen Overy. 
 It would be more correct to say that these two 
 parishes were united and both their churches super- 
 seded by the priory church which was handed over 
 to them under the new name of St. Saviour's. 
 
 So diiferent is the present structure, through 
 much alteration and unhappy restoration, from 
 the original church, that I am fain to quote largely 
 from earlier records. " For a parish church it 
 had the longest vista of any — its full length a 
 little short of 300 feet — and the other parts were 
 in proportion. The plan : a nave, side aisles, 
 transepts and a choir. It is said that the Lady 
 Chapel was a part of an uninterrupted space of 
 about 24<0 feet long, a fine vista for the splendid 
 processions and ceremonial of the old church. 
 Proceeding from the east end, a small monumental 
 chapel was run out, known as the Bishop's Chapel, 
 from its being appropriated for the elaborate tomb 
 of Bishop Andrews. Some believe this to have 
 been the true Lady Chapel, that which has been 
 so called being in their opinion a retro-choir, a 
 
280 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 continuation probably for processional purposes 
 of the internal space of the church visible through 
 the perforated screen of Bishop Fox. On the north 
 side of the choir was the chapel of St. John, after- 
 wards the vestry ; south of the choir, occupying 
 nearly its whole line, was the chapel of St. Mary 
 Magdalen, with its three aisles each way. It must be 
 recollected that the church was a priory church 
 and had buildings and cloisters. The site of the 
 cloister and conventual buildings was north of the 
 nave ; this obtained the name of Montague Close — 
 close, from the cloisters — Montague from the 
 people who picked up the spoil at the Dissolution 
 of the Monasteries. . . . Some most important 
 buildings extended from the north transept some 
 100 feet direct toward the river. Probably these 
 had been a hall or refectory, and dormitories of 
 the priory. . . . 
 
 " The interior of the church : The nave is 
 marked by seven divisions of arches of the early 
 pointed style. The first division was of large 
 circular columns, with smaller ones at the cardinal 
 points. Other columns, octangular and circular 
 alternately, had smaller columns attached. The 
 small columns against the west wall had Saxon 
 bosses and capitals, hinting that the primary 
 building was probably of that order. . . . We 
 may imagine the effect of the whole when the 
 
SOUTHWARK 281 
 
 entire length from the altar screen, including the 
 choir and the intersection of the transepts, was 
 all open, the light from the windows of the tower 
 streaming do^vn; when the eye passed along the 
 magnificent perspective of pillars below, and story 
 upon story of arches above till it rested on the fine 
 old western window at one extremity, nearly 250 
 feet distant ; and looking from the west there was 
 at the east end the beautiful screen of Bishop Fox. 
 Take account also of the gorgeous vestments and 
 rich implements at one time in the possession of the 
 churches, used in solemn and imposing processions, 
 with voices and bells ringing along the space. 
 The picture of our old church in the Popish times 
 may well overawe us, and strike us with some 
 thought as to the present silent and undecorated 
 contrast." * (Rendle. ) 
 
 The boundary of St. Saviour's churchyard was 
 Pepper Alley on the north, the High Street on 
 the east. Fowl Lane on the south, and on the west 
 the grounds of Winchester House. There were 
 several chain gates to this enclosure; i. e., open 
 obstructions formed of posts connected with chains ; 
 and within them were many dwellings and shops. 
 
 * This nave was taken down in 1838 and replaced by a 
 hideous structure. A restoration that is slowly proceeding 
 gives hope that the church will eventually appear as it did 
 in olden times. 
 
282 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 Facing the churchyard on the south was the 
 grammar school, like that of St. Olave's east of 
 the High Street, a foundation of Elizabeth's. 
 
 To the north was Montague Close. Lord Mon- 
 tague and his family occupied what was an- 
 ciently the prior's house, which remained for years 
 a hot-bed of Papal disturbance. In 1606 it bore 
 the name of Little Rome, and was subject to fre- 
 quent searches and examinations by the govern- 
 ment. The mansion consisted of a large irregular 
 brick edifice, with two projecting wings, and a 
 narrow centre containing a large doorway, sur- 
 mounted by a very deep compass pediment enclos- 
 ing a covered shell. The approach to the edifice 
 was by a pair of semicircular stone steps. The 
 whole of the building was lighted by transom 
 casement windows, and with dormer attics in the 
 roof. Within, the apartments were large and 
 lofty, and long retained the remains of rich mould- 
 ings, with very spacious fireplaces. 
 
 The palace of the Bishop of Winchester which, 
 as Stow says, was a " very fair house " was, in 
 fact, one of the most magnificent of the old palaces. 
 It possessed several courts richly laid out, and 
 adorned with fountains and statuary among the 
 trees. The great hall was 150 feet long and 40 
 across ; and we are told that the east window was 
 considered the finest in England. Next to it was 
 
SOUTHWARK 283 
 
 the Bishop of Rochester's house, which, Stow tells 
 us, " of long time hath not been frequented by 
 any bishop, and lieth ruinous for lack of repar- 
 ations." 
 
 From Pepper Alley, a passage behind Win- 
 chester House led by a little bridge over a stream, 
 where stood the ducking stool, to the Clink, " a 
 gaol or prison for the trespassers in those parts ; 
 namely, in old time, for such as should brabble, 
 fray, or break the peace, on the said bank, or in 
 the brothel houses, they were by the inhabitants 
 thereabout apprehended and committed to this 
 gaol, where they were straitly imprisoned." (Stow;.) 
 
 The brothel houses that furnished so large a 
 proportion of the prisoners in the Clink stood next 
 the river a little farther west. The Bordello or 
 Stews was of old time openly licenced by govern- 
 ment, under certain regulations quoted in full by 
 Stow. They need not be inserted here, inasmuch 
 as the Stews were suppressed, or, at least, legal 
 protection and supervision was withdrawn from 
 them during the reign of Henry VIII. " The 
 pretence of these establishments," says Pennant, 
 " was to prevent the debauching of wives and 
 daughters of the citizens, so that all that had not 
 the gift of continence might have places to repair 
 to. Perhaps, in days when thousands were tied 
 up by vows of celibacy these haunts might have 
 
284 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 been necessary ; for neither cowl nor cape had vir- 
 tue sufficient to annihilate the strongest of human 
 passions. . . . The signs were not hung out 
 but painted against the walls. I cannot but smile 
 at one: The Cardinal's Hat. I will not give into 
 scandal so far as to suppose that this house was 
 peculiarly protected by any coeval member of the 
 Sacred College." 
 
 West of these Stews stood the buildings that 
 rise at once in everybody's mind in connection 
 with Southwark in the days of Elizabeth. A nar- 
 row strip along the riverside, a quarter of a mile 
 in length, was named the Bankside, and here 
 were grouped those theatres the most famous of 
 which was The Globe. The Bankside extended 
 from the present Barclay's brewery to Bank End 
 at the Castle and Falcon Taverns, near the pres- 
 ent Blackfriar's Bridge. Here lived Kempe, the 
 actor, Henslowe, Beaumont, Fletcher, Laurence 
 Fletcher, the actor, Edmund Shakespeare, and Ed- 
 ward Alleyn. A special description of the London 
 theatres is reserved for another place. Suffice it to 
 say here that this Is memorable ground. Here those 
 great playwrights went about their daily affairs, 
 attended service in St. Saviour's Church, laughed 
 with Ben Jonson in the Falcon Tavern, furbished 
 up old plays and produced new ones at the Globe 
 and the Rose. Here came the wits and gallants 
 
SOUTHWARK 285 
 
 of the day eager for sport; here foreign ambassa- 
 dors were brought to be entertained and to have 
 their secrets wormed out of them while they were 
 in a merry mood. 
 
 Indeed, nearly all of old Southwark has passed 
 away. One or two of the old churches are still 
 left, but St. Saviour's is shorn of much of its 
 ancient glory. The plays of the Elizabethan 
 dramatists, however, are alive and robust till this 
 day, a splendid monument of the Southwark of 
 three hundred years ago, a monument that age 
 cannot wither, that civilisation can not sweep 
 away. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE THEATRES 
 
 I 
 
 AS early as the time of Henry VII. companies of 
 ■ players constituted a part of the households 
 of the great noblemen of England. The players 
 were attached to the musical part of the establish- 
 ment and presented the interludes and morality 
 plays that were the forerunners of the Elizabethan 
 drama. When the service of the players was not 
 needed by the master, they were allowed to wander 
 about the country at will, performing on the village 
 greens or in the tavern yards of the larger towns. 
 On such journeys the players went by the name of 
 My Lord So-and-So's Servants ; and, as was nat- 
 ural, it was not long before the suburban districts 
 were overrun with bands of rogues and vagabonds 
 who, by calling themselves his servants, claimed the 
 protection of some nobleman who may never have 
 heard of them. To put an end to this practice a 
 law was passed early in the reign of Elizabeth, 
 which required every actor to obtain a licence. The 
 power to grant these licences was given to certain 
 noblemen, to the mayors of towns, to the Lord Lieu- 
 
 286 
 
THE THEATRES 287 
 
 tenants of certain counties, and to two justices of 
 the peace resident in the neighbourhood where the 
 applicant resided. This law, which inflicted the 
 penalty for vagabonds upon all unlicenced actors, 
 for a while put an end to the abuse of patronage. 
 For all that, even at a later time, a very loose con- 
 nection existed between the members of a company 
 and its patron. 
 
 This restriction of actors occurred just at that 
 time in the reign of Elizabeth when the importa- 
 tion of foreign ideas and prosperity at home com- 
 bined to develop the English nation with unparal- 
 leled rapidity. So far as literature is concerned, 
 this remarkable development f ocussed on the drama. 
 No law was able to stop it. So, after the tempo- 
 rary check produced by the requirement that all 
 actors obtain a licence, we find that the increased 
 number of players provoked further opposition. 
 
 During the years just previous to 1576 the Lon- 
 don players produced their plays in the courtyards 
 of the city taverns. The English tavern of those 
 days contained a central quadrangular courtyard, 
 entered through a door at one end. About this 
 court were galleries, one above another at the level 
 of each story. When a play was to be performed 
 the actors would build a temporary platform upon 
 trestles at the end of the court and extending be- 
 neath the first gallery. From this gallery they 
 
288 SHAKESPEAR E'S LONDON 
 
 would hang drapery so as to convert the back part 
 of the platform and court into a dressing room. 
 The spectators of the play stood about in the open 
 court, or sat upon stools placed in the galleries. 
 
 Out of this manner of performing plays grew 
 the further opposition to the actors. Puritanism 
 had already taken root in England. The men who 
 later put a stop to bear-baiting, not because it gave 
 I pain to the bear, but because it gave pleasure to the 
 spectator, could not abide the growing interest that 
 the nation was taking in the stage. To them the 
 drama was an abomination and a snare. Great was 
 the lamentation of the Puritans concerning the 
 brawls, the licentious conduct, the gambling, and 
 the numerous other evils that possessed the audi- 
 ence so frequently gathered about these inn-yard 
 scaffolds. But the Puritans were not yet masters 
 of England. To intrench their position they cou- 
 pled morality with expediency. They enlarged 
 upon the danger of spreading the plague which 
 would result from such large and frequent gather- 
 ings. This was a real danger. The Corporation 
 of London took up the cry. For a while the agita- 
 tion was bitter. On one side stood the Queen, the 
 noblemen, and the actors ; on the other side stood 
 the Puritans arm in arm with the city fathers. The 
 contest ended in a compromise. The companies of 
 actors were not disbanded, but they were compelled 
 
THE THEATRES 289 
 
 to give their performances outside the jurisdiction 
 of the Lord Mayor of London ; that is, the hmit of 
 the city Liberties. They were prohibited from 
 playing on Sundays, on holy days, and in Lent; 
 but this part of the law was constantly violated. 
 Furthermore, the players must receive an official 
 approval of their productions from the Queen's 
 Master of the Revels before they could put them 
 upon the stage. 
 
 A year or two later— December M, 1578 — an 
 order from the Privy Council limited the number of 
 companies to six: The Children of the Royal 
 Chapel, The Children of St. Paul's, The Servants 
 of the Chamberlain, Warwick, Leicester, and Essex. 
 From this time on the nobleman who figured as the 
 patron of a company did little more in connection 
 with his players than attend to the procuring of 
 licences. The company derived a certain prestige 
 from the use of his name, and frequently acted pri- 
 vately in his mansion, for which, however, they were 
 paid extra. In later times there were other compa- 
 nies, the most famous of which was the King's Play- 
 ers, as Shakespeare's company was called after the 
 accession of James. Material is not at hand, and 
 probably never will be, from which can be written in 
 any detail an accurate account of the Elizabethan 
 companies. Certain it is that early historians of 
 the drama have assumed a greater number of com- 
 
290 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 panies than were ever in existence at one time. The 
 confusion is due to the fact that the same company 
 was often reorganised under a different name. The 
 published works of Mr. Fleay contain most of what 
 is known concerning this subject. 
 
 The contest between the players and the city re- 
 sulted in the establishment of permanent theatres 
 on the outskirts of London. The first to be built 
 was The Theatre ; The Curtain (so-called from the 
 plot of ground on which it was built) probably fol- 
 lowed in the same year (1576). These were north 
 of the city, in Shoreditch. The principal Bank- 
 side theatres were The Rose, The Swan, The Bear 
 Garden, and The Globe. Built at a later date 
 north of the Thames were The Blackfriars, The 
 Fortune, and The Red Bull. 
 
 Inns Used as Theatres 
 
 The principal taverns thus used were: the Bull 
 and the Cross Keys, both in Gracechurch Street; 
 the Bell Savage on Ludgate Hill; Blackfriars and 
 Whitefriars are the names of inns so used, and 
 should not be confused with later theatres of the 
 same names ; the Bull in Bishopsgate Street Within, 
 opposite St. Helen's Place ; " Nigh Paul's " is an 
 inn frequently referred to, but &bout which nothing 
 is known ; the Boar's Head, Eastcheap ; the Boar's 
 Head without Aldgate was used for plays before 
 
THE THEATRES 291 
 
 the accession of Elizabeth, but there is no record 
 of plays having been acted there after 1558. 
 
 The Theatres 
 
 In speaking of Holywell Priory, Stow says: 
 " The church being pulled downe, many houses have 
 bene there builded for the lodgings of noble- 
 men, of straungers borne and other ; and nere 
 there iinto are builded two publique houses for 
 the acting and shewe of comedies, tragedies, and 
 histories, for recreation, whereof the one is called 
 The Courtein, the other The Theatre, both stand- 
 ing on the southwest side towards the Field." 
 
 The Field was Finsbury Field, then a field in- 
 deed, open and country-like, with an unsavoury 
 reputation for foot-pads and bad company. On the 
 highroad all the way from London to Shoreditch 
 was a double row of houses, in parts "pestered 
 close together." In the immediate vicinity of the 
 dismantled priory was a considerable cluster of 
 houses with garden plots, some of which were in the 
 possession of Giles Allen shortly before the build- 
 ing of the Theatre. The plot on which the Thea- 
 tre was built was enclosed by a brick wall, the usual 
 entrance being from the north. In this direction 
 in plain sight was the well of Dame Agnes le Clear ; 
 westward, beyond the enclosing wall, lay the open 
 fields, across which one could easily see the build- 
 
292 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 ings of Finsbury Manor. It was a pleasant walk 
 from London by way of Moorgate, for the fields 
 were carpeted with soft grass, as we know, inas- 
 much as iOs fine was levied for injuring it at the 
 removal of The Theatre in 1599. These fields 
 abounded in wild flowers, and were frequently used 
 as military practice grounds. To the northwest 
 stood three windmills that are plainly shown on 
 Aggas's map, and which gave the name of Wind- 
 mill Hill to the neighbourhood. 
 
 James Burbadge, first a joiner and then a mem- 
 ber of Leicester's company of players, leased a por- 
 tion of the ground west of the priory of Giles Allen, 
 on April 13, 1576. Upon this plot of ground, near 
 the present National Theatre, Burbadge built his 
 new theatre. Inasmuch as The Theatre was en- 
 closed by a brick wall, with probably no entrance 
 save from the north, it became necessary to make a 
 more convenient entrance to the site. A gate was 
 built in the west wall and the path across Moor- 
 fields thus became the common approach from Lon- 
 don to its earliest theatre. This fact is alluded to 
 in Tarleton's News out of Purgatory, where one 
 sees " such a concourse of people through the 
 Fields " after a performance at The Theatre. 
 
 Of the construction of the play-house practically 
 nothing is known. No picture or detailed descrip- 
 tion of it is extant. Doubtless it was built wholly 
 
THE THEATRES 293 
 
 of wood, a material likely to be selected by its owner, 
 who was originally a carpenter; wood and timber 
 are frequently mentioned in the account of its re- 
 moval to Bankside. Furthermore, the contempo- 
 rary description of its demolition shows that it could 
 not have been built in a very substantial manner. 
 This inference is practically proved by the fact 
 that the Lord Mayor, writing to Walsingham in 
 1583, mentions among other dangers from stage 
 plays at The Theatre, "the peril of ruins of so 
 weake buildings." Upper and lower galleries are 
 mentioned by Fleetwood. Beyond this, nothing is 
 positively known of its structure. Its neighbour, 
 The Curtain, was open to the sky. An engraving 
 of The Rose, the earhest of the Bankside theatres, 
 hints what the form of the theatre may have been, 
 but further details are conjured up only by aid of 
 the imagination. 
 
 The Theatre, as were most of the early play- 
 houses, was often used for performances other than 
 plays : such as fencing matches, " feats of activity," 
 as gymnastic exhibitions were called; and there is 
 reason to beheve that The Theatre, as well as The 
 Rose, Hope, Swan, and Newington Butts, could 
 be hired temporarily by any one, much as a modern 
 hall is let out upon occasion. 
 
 In the struggle against the theatres, one point 
 constantly urged against them was that they bred 
 
294. SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 disorder. It is impossible to deny the charge; in 
 fact, the neighbourhood of The Theatre, and, later^ 
 the Bankside, were two of the most unruly spots in 
 London. " By reason of no playes were the same 
 daye, all the city was quiet," writes one in 1584. 
 " Whereas, if you resorte to The Theatre, The Cur- 
 tayne, and other places of playes in the Citie, you 
 shall on the Lord's Day have these places, with 
 many others that I cannot reckon, so full as possi- 
 ble they can throng." (Stockwood's Sermon at 
 Paul's Cross, August 24, 1578.) "It happened 
 on Sundaie last that some great disorder was com- 
 mitted at The Theatre." (Lord Mayor to the 
 Privy Council, April 12, 1580.) In June, 1584, 
 Lord Burleigh wrote : " Uppon Weddensdaye one 
 Browne, a serving man in a blew coat, a shifting 
 fellowe, having a perrelous wit of his owne, entend- 
 ing a sport if he could have browght it to passe, did 
 at The Theatre doore querrell with certen poore 
 boyes, handicraft prentices, and strooke one of 
 them; and lastlie he, with his sword, wondied and 
 maymed one of the boyes upon the left hand, where- 
 upon there assembled nere a thousand people ; — this 
 Browne did very cuninglie convey himself awaye." 
 In Tarleton's News out of Purgatory one reads : 
 " Upon Whitson Monday last I must needs to The 
 Theatre to see a play, where, when I came, I found 
 such concourse of unrulye people that I thought it 
 
THE THEATRES 295 
 
 better solitary to walk in the fields then to inter- 
 meddle myselfe amongst such a great presse." 
 
 The elder Burbadge died in 1597. Legal com- 
 plications and disagreements over a renewal of the 
 lease for the ground on which The Theatre stood 
 determined the heirs of Burbadge to take advantage 
 of a stipulation in the original lease by which they 
 were allowed to remove whatever buildings they had 
 erected. In December, 1598, or January, 1599, 
 The Theatre, or at least that part of it that was 
 valuable as building material, was removed to 
 Bankside and used in the construction of The 
 Globe.* 
 
 Popular accounts sometimes lead careless readers 
 to suppose that Cuthbert Burbadge came like a 
 thief in the night and stole The Theatre away in 
 violation of the law. Such was not the case. Below 
 is an extract from the Bill of Complaint, Allen vs. 
 Burbadge, 44 Eliz., (published by Halliwell, Out- 
 lines, page 375). Cuthbert Burbadge "unlaw- 
 fuUye combyning and confederating himselfe with 
 the sayd Richard Burbadge and one Peter Street, 
 William Smyth, and divers other persons to the 
 number of twelve, to your subject unknown, did 
 about the eight and twentyth daye of December in 
 
 *The two dates above are due to two conflicting con- 
 temporary accounts. It is possible that the removal did 
 not aU take place at once, and that both dates are correct. 
 
296 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 the one and fortyth yere of your Highnes raygne, 
 and sythence your highnes last and general pardon 
 by the confederacye aforesayd, ryoutouslye assem- 
 ble themselves together, and then and there armed 
 themselves with dyvers and manye unlawful! and 
 offensive weapons, as, namelye, swords, daggers, 
 billes, axes, and such like, and soe armed, did then 
 repayre to the sayd Theatre, and then and there, 
 armed as aforesaid, in verye ryotous, outragious, 
 and forcible manner, and contrarye to the lawes of 
 your highness realme, attempted to pull downe the 
 sayd Theatre; whereuppon divers of your subjects, 
 servauntes, and farmers, then goinge aboute in 
 peaceable manner to procure them to desist from 
 iheir unlawful enterpryse, they the sayd ryotous 
 persons aforesaid notwithstanding procured then 
 therein with great violence, not only then and there 
 forcyblye and ryotouslye resisting your subjects, 
 servauntes, and farmers, but allso then and there 
 pulling, breaking, and throwing down the sayd 
 Theatre in verye outragious, violent and riotous 
 sort, to the great disturbance and terrefyeing not 
 onlye of your subjects sayd servauntes, and farm- 
 ers, but of divers others of your Majesties loving 
 subjectes there neere inhabitinge; and having so 
 done, did then alsoe in most forcible and ryotous 
 manner take and carrye awaye from thence all the 
 wood and timber thereof unto the Bancksyde in the 
 
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 M 
 
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THE THEATRES 297 
 
 parishe of St. Marye Overyes, and there erected a 
 newe playehowse with the sayd timber and woode." 
 
 THE CURTAIN 
 
 This theatre was probably built in 1576, but 
 a little later than The Theatre. It stood south 
 of Holywell Lane, not far from the other play- 
 house. Much of what has been said about one 
 applies to the other. One detail of its construc- 
 tion, that it was open to the sky, is proved 
 by the following: "About this time new plays 
 win be more in request then old, and if Company 
 come current to The Bull and Curtaine, there will 
 be more money gathered in one afternoon then will 
 be given in Kingsland Spittle in a whole moneth; 
 also, if, at this time, about the hours of four or 
 five, it waxe cloudy, and then raine downright, they 
 shall sit dryer in the galleries, then those who 
 are the understanding men in the yard." {Jack 
 Dawes Prognostication, 1623.) The Curtain de- 
 rived its name from the plot of ground on which it 
 was built, which name referred to a fortification in 
 connection with London Wall. 
 
 BANKSIDE 
 
 Most maps of recent times, published to show 
 the sites of ancient theatres, give an entirely 
 erroneous impression of the populousness of this 
 
298 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 neighbourhood. It was chosen as the site of 
 theatres because it was outside the city. The 
 watermen frequently complained that the closing 
 of the theatres stopped the traffic Southward Ho, 
 from which we may infer that there was little else 
 of moment on the Bankside. Stow tells us that in 
 1598 most of the houses were contained in a single 
 row along the river bank between London Bridge 
 and Paris Garden Stairs ; and from Gerard's Her- 
 bal we know that this region abounded in wild 
 flowers. Hence, one may consider the " network 
 of blind alleys," so often alluded to, as a creation of 
 the imagination. If they existed at all, they were 
 merely mud paths to the few scattered houses that 
 were not upon the principal thoroughfares of Bank- 
 side and Maiden Lane. 
 
 THE BEAR GARDEN 
 
 This theatre, originally a mere ring for baiting, 
 stood between The Rose and The Globe, a short 
 distance west of the line j oining them. It was origi- 
 nally an open wooden fabric, which is figured with 
 another like it in Aggas's map. It was a wooden 
 structure and doubtless often needed repair. Some 
 time before 1606 it was rebuilt in rectangular 
 form. In 1606 it was again rebuilt for Henslowe 
 and Allen by Peter Street, who had already built 
 The Globe and The Fortune. The following inter- 
 
THE THEATRES 299 
 
 esting description of its construction is taken from 
 the building contract preserved at Dulwich College 
 and quoted by Collier. {Memoirs of Edward 
 Alleyn, page 78.) 
 
 " That he, the said Peter Streete, his executors 
 administrators or assignes, before the thirde day of 
 September next comynge after the date hereof, 
 shall at his owne or their owne proper costes and 
 charges, not only take and pull downe for and to 
 the use of said Phillipp Henslowe and Edward 
 AUeyn their executors or assignes, so much of the 
 tymber or carpenters worke of the foreside of the 
 messuage or tenemente called the Beare Garden, 
 next the river of Thames in the parishe of St. 
 Saviors aforesaide, as conteyneth in lengthe from 
 outside to outside fiftye and sixe feete of assize, 
 and in breadth from outside to outside sixteene 
 feete of assize ; but also in steade place thereof, 
 before the saide thirde day of September, att his 
 or their like costes and charges, shall well suffi- 
 ciently, and workemanlike, make or erect sett up 
 and fully finishe one new frame for a howse, to 
 conteyne in length from outside to outside fyftie 
 and sixe feete of assize, and in breadth from out- 
 side to outside sixteene foot of assize, which frame 
 shalbe made of good, new sufficient and sounde 
 Tymber of oke, to be fynished in all thinges as 
 hereunder is mentioned; that is to say: that the 
 
300 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 saide frame shall conteyne in height two storeyes 
 and a halfe, the two whole storeyes of the said 
 frame to be in height from flower to flower ten 
 foote of assize a peece, and the half story to be in 
 height fower foot of assize, and all the principall 
 rafters of the same frame to be framed with 
 crooked postes and bolted with iron boltes through 
 the rafters, which iron bolts are to be provided 
 at the costs and charges of the saide Peter 
 Streete his executors or assignes. And also shall 
 make in the same frame throughout two flow- 
 ers with good and sufficient joystes, the same 
 flowers to be boarded throughout with good and 
 sounde deale boardes to be plained and closely 
 laid and shott. Al the principall longe upright 
 postes of the saide frame to be nyne ynches broade 
 and seaven ynches thicke: and shall be in the same 
 frame three maine summers, that is to say in the 
 uppermost story twoe summers, and in the lower 
 story one summer, every summer to be one foote 
 square; all the brest summers to be eight ynches 
 broade and seaven ynches thick. The same frame 
 to jetty over towards the Thames one foot of 
 assize. And also shall make on the south side of 
 the saide frame a sufficient staire case, with staires 
 convenient to lead up to the uppermost romes of 
 the saide frame, with convenient dores out of the 
 saide staire case into every of the romes adjoyn- 
 

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THE THEATRES 301 
 
 inge thereunto, in every rome of the same frame 
 one sufficient dore ; and also by the same staire 
 case shall make and frame one studdy, with a 
 little rome over the same, which studdy is to jetty 
 out from the same frame fower foote of assize, 
 and to extend in lengthe from the saide staire 
 case unto the place where the chimneyes are 
 appoynted to be sett, with a sufficient dore into 
 either of the romes of the studdy. And the nether 
 story of the same frame shall seperate and devide 
 into fower romes : that is to say, the first towardes 
 the east to be for a tenemente, and to conteyne in 
 length from wall to wall thirteene foote of assize; 
 the next rome to be for a gate rome, and to con- 
 teyne in length ten foote of assize ; the third rome 
 twenty foote of assize, and the fowerth westward 
 thirteene foot of assize. And the second story shall 
 seperate into three romes, the first, over the rome 
 appointed for a tenemente on the east end of the 
 said frame, to conteyne in length thirteene foote 
 of assize, the midle rome thirty foote of assize, 
 and the third rome westward thirteene foote like- 
 wise of assize. And the half story above to be 
 divided into two romes, namely over the said tene- 
 ment thirteene foote, to be seperated from the 
 rest of the said frame, and the residue to be open 
 in one rome only. And out of the said frame 
 towards the Thames shall make two dores, and one 
 
302 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 fine paire of gates with twoe wickettes proportion- 
 able. And also at either end of the lower story 
 of the said frame shall make one clere story win- 
 dowe [to] either of the same clere storyes, to be 
 in height three foote of assize, and six foote in 
 length, and the middle rome of the same frame, 
 conteyninge twenty foote, to have a clere story 
 windowe throughout the height of the saide former 
 clere storyes : and in the second story of the same 
 frame shall make three splay windowes, every win- 
 dowe to be sixe foote between the postes ; and in 
 the same second story shall make seaven clere 
 story windowes, every clere story to be three foote 
 wide a peace, with one muUion in the midst of every 
 clere story; and every of the same clere storyes 
 to be three foot and a halfe in depth. All over 
 the forsaid gate shall make one greete square win- 
 dowe, to be in length ten foote of assize and to 
 jetty over the said frame three foote of assize, 
 standinge upon twoe carved Satyres, the same 
 windowe to be in wheight according to the depth 
 of the story, the same windowe to be framed with 
 twoe endes with mullions convenient ; and over the 
 same windowe one piramen with three piramides, 
 the same frame to have fower gable ends towards 
 the Thames, and upon the top of every gable end 
 one piramide, and betweene every gable end to be 
 left three foote for the falling of water, and in 
 
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THE THEATRES 303 
 
 every gable end one clerestory, and backward over 
 the gate of the same frame towards the south one' 
 gable end with a clere story therein, and under 
 the same gable end backward in the second story 
 one clere story windowe. And also in this parsell 
 of the saide frame as is appoynted for a tenement 
 shall make twoe paires of stalres, one over another 
 by the place where the chiraneyes are appoynted 
 to be sett." 
 
 This wooden structure, however, was in exist- 
 ence but a few years. " In 1613, August 29, 
 Gilbert Katerines of St. Saviours', Southwark, 
 covenanted with Henslowe and Meade that before 
 the 30th of November, he would pull down the 
 Bear Garden on the Bankside, and set up a new 
 house fit for players to play in, and for bulls and 
 bears to be baited in, in size and fashion like The 
 Swan, for £360." (Fleay, London Stage, page 
 202.) This structure was first called The Hope, 
 though it soon became known, as before, as The 
 Bear Garden. Its appearance is so familiar as not 
 to need description. It is represented alone by Wil- 
 kinson, and in the general views of London by 
 Vischer and Hollar. In the Notes on London 
 Churches and Buildings, 1631-1638, we read: 
 " The Hope on the Banks side in Southwark, com- 
 monly called The Bear Garden, a play-house for 
 Stage Playes on Mundayes, Wednesdayes, Fridays 
 
304 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 and Saterdayes ; and for the Baiting of the Beares 
 on Tuesdays and Thursdayes, the stage being 
 made to take up when they Please." It was prob- 
 ably not used for plays after the death of Hens- 
 lowe in 1616.* 
 
 THE KOBE 
 
 This theatre was built by Henslowe for per- 
 formances by Lord Strange's men and others. 
 Fleay says that it was opened February 19, 1592. 
 This date, however, is in all probability too early, 
 a more likely date being towards the end of the 
 year 1592. Henslowe's connection with this the- 
 atre ceased in 1603, and in later years the 
 theatre was only used for non-dramatic presenta- 
 tions. It stood a little to the northwest of the site 
 of The Globe, and at the end of Rose Alley. Wil- 
 kinson published several engravings of The Globe 
 Theatre, one of which must be misnamed. It is 
 
 * West of Bankside stood the Manor of Paris Garden. 
 Contemporary writers used the name loosely for all the 
 adjacent territory, and so the Bear Garden in the Liberty 
 of the CUnk was sometimes referred to as Paris Garden. 
 This fact has led many writers to jump at the conclusion 
 that there was a baiting ring farther west within the actual 
 limits of the manor park. An examination of the evidence, 
 however, seems to warrant the assertion that no such ring 
 ever existed. The contradictory statements of modern writ- 
 ers is the excuse for the insertion of such a detailed descrip- 
 tion of what was in reality one of the minor theatres. 
 
The Globe Theatre 
 
 (Engraved by Wilkinson from a drawing in the collection of John 
 
 Charles Crowle, Esq.) 
 
THE THEATRES 305 
 
 certainly a building of earlier construction than 
 The Globe, and is near the river ; it is not a picture 
 of The Bear Garden, hence the inference that it is 
 The Rose. It is circular, and much lower than the 
 other theatres. The usual hut is lacking, and 
 the thatch roof rises gradually upon one side as 
 if to shield the stage from the weather and at the 
 same time to provide room for the upper stage. 
 The signal flag is attached to a staff that rises 
 directly from the yard, instead of from the hut, 
 as in the later theatres. 
 
 THE GLOBE 
 
 The materials of the demolished Theatre were 
 transported to Bankside to be used in the con- 
 struction of The Globe. It was originally built 
 as a round theatre, early in 1599. This be- 
 came the home of Shakespeare's company ; here 
 he acted minor parts in his own plays, and here 
 were performed for the first time his great trage- 
 dies. The Globe served as the model for The 
 Fortune, which will be described below, hence little 
 need be said about the structure of The Globe. It 
 stood in Bankside within 80 paces of the river, on 
 a site now occupied by Barkley's brewery. The 
 nearest river landings were Horseshoe Alley Stairs, 
 distant about 450 feet, and Paris Garden Stairs, 
 about 950 feet away. The Globe was burned to 
 
306 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 the ground during a performance of Henry VIII. 
 in 1613. 
 
 " The King's Players had a new play called 
 All is True, representing some principal pieces of 
 the reign of Henry VIII., which was set forth with 
 many extraordinary circumstances of pomp and 
 majesty, even to the matter of the stage, the 
 knights of the order with their Georges and gar- 
 ters, the guards with their embroidered coats, and 
 the like. Now King Plenry, meeting a masque at 
 the Cardinal Wolsey's house, and certain chambers 
 being shot off at his entry, some of the paper or 
 other stuff wherewith one of them was stopped, did 
 light on the thatch, there, being thought at first 
 but an idle smoke, and their eyes more attentive to 
 the show, it kindled inwardly and ran round like 
 a train, consuming in less than an hour the whole 
 house to the very ground; nothing did perish but 
 wood and straw, and a few forsaken cloaks, and 
 one man had his breeches set on fire." (Sir Henry 
 Wotton.) 
 
 The Globe was immediately rebuilt, octagonal 
 in shape, however, instead of round, and was 
 demolished in 1644< to make room for a pile of 
 tenements. 
 
 blackfbiak's theatee 
 
 This playhouse is often referred to in contempor- 
 ary writings as a private house, i. e., smaller, higher 
 
THE THEATRES 307 
 
 priced, more select, and roofed. It consisted of a 
 remodelled private house of large size that stood in 
 the precinct of the Blackfriars upon a site now 
 occupied by Playhouse yard near the Times Office. 
 The renovation of this building for the purposes of 
 making it usable as a theatre must have been very 
 complete, for a document (quoted by Fleay, CTiron., 
 p. 228) says: "And further say that if the sayd 
 Hall were converted from a playhouse to any other 
 ordinary use it would be of very little value, and 
 nothing near worth the rent reserved by the sayd 
 leas." The building, which stood next the Pipe 
 Office, " consisted of all those seaven greate upper 
 roomes as they are nowe divided, being all uppon 
 one flower and sometime being one greate and 
 entire rome, with the roof over the same covered 
 with lead." (Deed to James Burbadge.) There 
 are numerous other rooms mentioned, and it is not 
 possible to tell whether the theatre was on the 
 ground floor or above stairs. It is interesting to 
 note that there were in this theatre three doors at 
 the rear of the stage. (Cf. Eastward Ho, I, i., 
 stage direction.) 
 
 THE rOETUNE THEATUE 
 
 In 1599 The Rose theatre was falling into decay, 
 as is shown by a letter quoted by Collier {Memoirs 
 of Allen, p. 55). A new theatre was planned, and 
 
308 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 a letter gives the following reasons why The For- 
 tune should be built. 
 
 " First, because the place appoynted oute for 
 that purpose standeth very toUerrable, nere unto 
 the Fieldes, and soe f arr distant and remote frome 
 any person or place of accompt, as that none can 
 be annoyed thearbie. 
 
 " Secondlie, because the erectours of the saied 
 howse are contented to give a very liberall portion 
 of money weekelie towards the relief of our poore, 
 the nomber and necessity whereof is so greate, that 
 the same will redonde to the contynuall comfort 
 of the said poore. 
 
 " Thirdlie and lastlie, wee are the rather con- 
 tented to accept this meanes of relief of our poore 
 because our Parrishe is not able to releeve them. 
 Neither hath the Justices of the Sheire taken any 
 order for any supplie out of the Countye, as en- 
 joyned by the late Acte of Parliamente." 
 
 As a result The Fortune was built by Peter 
 Street for Henslowe and AUeyn. It stood on the 
 east side of Golding (now Golden) Lane, between 
 it and what is now called Upper Whitecross Street, 
 in the parish of St. Giles's Cripplegate. The con- 
 tract for building The Fortune was published by 
 Halliwell-PhiUipps {Outlmes, page 462), and is 
 dated January 8, 1599. The frame of the house 
 was to be set square " f ower score f oote of lawful 
 
The Fortune Theatre 
 (From an engraving by Wilkinson) 
 
THE THEATRES 309 
 
 assize everye waie square without, and fiftie five 
 foote of like assize square everye waie within," 
 with a strong foundation of piles, brick, sand, and 
 lime, "to be wrought one foote of assize at the 
 leiste above the ground." The theatre consisted 
 of three stories, of 12, 11, and 9 feet high respec- 
 tively. They were to be 12^ feet wide, "besides 
 a jutty forwards in eyther of the saide two upper 
 stories of tene ynches of lawful assize." There 
 were four " gentlemen's rooms," and sufficient and 
 convenient two-penny rooms ; and all the rooms 
 were to be provided with seats. The theatre was 
 to have " suche like steares, conveyances, and divi- 
 sions, without and within, as are made and con- 
 tryved in the late erected play-howse on the 
 Bancke, in the said Parish of St. Saviour's, called 
 the Globe." There was to be a tiring room, and 
 a "shadow, or covering," over the stage. The 
 length of the stage was 43 feet, and it extended 
 forward to the middle of the yard. Beneath the 
 stage and beneath the first gallery the space was 
 railed with oak boards. The roof of the shadow, 
 galleries, stairs, etc., were covered with tile, and 
 the rooms ceiled with " lathe, lyme, and haire." 
 
 The Fortune was opened in July, 1601. An in- 
 denture of May 20, 1622, (quoted by Wheatley, 
 vol. 2, p. 68) describes the spot as a "part or 
 parcel of ground upon part whereof lately stood 
 
310 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 a playhouse or building called The Fortune, with 
 
 a Taphouse belonging to the same . . . con- 
 
 teyning in breadth from E. to W. 130 foote, and 
 
 in length 131 foote and 8 inches, or thereabout." 
 
 The theatre soon became popular, and from it 
 
 Alleyn derived most of the money with which he 
 
 endowed Dulwich College. 
 
 Little is known concerning the size and capacity 
 
 of the Elizabethan theatres. With the above exact 
 
 dimensions in mind it is interesting to note that 
 
 the Fortune is referred to in Middleton's Roaring 
 
 Girl (Prologue, 1. 10) as "our vast theatre." 
 
 December 9, 1621, The Fortune was burned to the 
 
 ground. It was soon rebuilt, " a large round, 
 
 brick building" (Wright, Sec. Gen. of Actors, 
 
 1699), and became frequented by the meaner sort 
 
 of people. This theatre was adorned with a statue 
 
 that still ornamented the front of the building 
 
 when Wilkinson made his celebrated engraving. 
 
 It is thus referred to in Heywood's English 
 
 Traveller: 
 
 " I'll rather stand here 
 Like a statue, in the fore front of your house 
 Forever, like the picture of Dame Fortune 
 Before the Fortune playhouse." 
 
 MiNOE Theatres 
 
 Ncwington Butts in Southwark, nearly a mile 
 from the Bridge-foot, was probably built before 
 
m »■ * !« IL» ■* ^ dL^ 
 
 H bf. 
 
 P 
 
 fe 
 
THE THEATRES 311 
 
 1571, doubtless either a tavern or a mere baiting 
 ring. Its only real connection with the drama was 
 in 1592, when plays were given there bj^ Strange's 
 men, and in 1594 by Strange's men and the 
 Admiral's. 
 
 The Swan was where the present Holland Street 
 is, not far from the Blackfriar's Road. Though 
 one of the larger theatres, it was not long, and 
 never exclusively used for plays. It, like The 
 Hope, had a movable stage. "Lady Elizabeth's 
 men had played here under Alexander Foster from 
 29th August, 1611, till March, 1613. Only dur- 
 ing these two years had it any connection with the 
 drama; before and after, it was used only for 
 fencing." (Fleay.) The principal item of inter- 
 est in connection with The Swan is that its interior 
 is the subject of unique contemporary drawing of 
 an Elizabethan stage. 
 
 The Red Bull stood on the upper end of St. 
 John Street, and affords another interesting pic- 
 ture of a stage, of a later date, however. The Red 
 Bull was not an important theatre, and may have 
 been merely a tavern in Elizabethan times. 
 
 II 
 
 ' Just how much and how little is known concern- 
 ing the construction of individual Elizabethan 
 theatres may be inferred from the foregoing notes. 
 
812 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 The following general description of a perform- 
 ance is compiled from various sources. 
 
 The river Thames was then the southern bound- 
 ary of the city. Though there was but one bridge 
 across the river, the numerous ferryboats and pri- 
 vate barges prevented it from being a serious 
 obstacle between the city and the Bankside, whence 
 the cathedral was in plain view. The neighbour- 
 hood of St. Paul's was not onjy the centre of the 
 religious and social activity of the city, but also 
 of the book trade. There appointments were made, 
 bargains struck, and duels arranged. There, 
 among the bookstalls, quarto editions of the cur- 
 rent plays were sold for sixpence, and we read 
 in Middleton's Roaring Girl that it was a common 
 habit to take "books of the play" to the theatre. 
 Playbills to advertise performances were often set 
 up in these shops ; also posted about town, espe- 
 cially in the neighbourhood of the theatres. " Then 
 hence, lewd nags, away, Go read each post, view 
 what is played to-day." (Marston, Scourge of Vil- 
 lainy.) It was also a common practice for the 
 players to parade about the streets of the city 
 with music on the day of a performance for the 
 purpose of drumming up a crowd. " In some 
 places they shame not in time of divine service, to 
 come and dance about the church." (Stockwood's 
 Sermon at Paul's Cross. ) In July, 1582, the Lord 
 
THE THEATRES 313 
 
 Mayor writes to the Earl of Warwick that permis- 
 sion was given to John David, a fencer in the earl's 
 service, to march in the city with drums, etc. 
 
 Open theatres and bad weather often prevented a'^y 
 performance. If a person in London wished to know 
 whether a play was going to be enacted that after- 
 noon, he had but to walk to the bank of the Thames 
 and glance across the river. A signal for the per- 
 formance was a flag suspended from a staff upon 
 the theatre. These flags are represented in most 
 of the old drawings of the theatres and are re- 
 ferred to in many of the contemporary plays and 
 pamphlets. (Cf. Dekker's Raven's Almanac; Mid- 
 dleton's Roaring Girl, IV. ii. ; Mad World, I. i. ; 
 etc.) If the theatre-goer had plenty of time he 
 might ride around to Bankside by way of London 
 Bridge; but if he were in haste, he would hail a 
 ferryman with the cry of Southward Ho! and de- 
 sire to be set down at Paris Garden Stairs. Dekker 
 tells us that for this purpose it was more fashion- 
 able to hail a pair of oars than sculls. The Globe 
 was near the Falcon Inn, where riders put up their 
 horses during a play, and where all sorts and classes 
 of people loafed and tippled before the play began. 
 
 From the outside the play-house looked like a 
 huge squatty building, not like a high tower, as 
 usually represented in the old maps. (Cf. dimen- 
 sions of The Fortune above.) It was covered with 
 
y 
 
 314 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 a half -finished roof over the upper gallery, which 
 was thatched in The Globe and tiled in The Fortune. 
 All the theatres except the earliest probably pos- 
 sessed a little hut that rose above the main build- 
 ing. The Globe seems to have been the only one 
 whose hut possessed a double gable. The purpose 
 of this structure is not fully known. It carried 
 the staff with the signal flag, and it afforded stand- 
 ing room for the trumpeter ; it may have been con- 
 nected with some of the stage machinery to be 
 described. When the play was about to begin the 
 trumpeter from the hut indicated the fact by three 
 successive blasts at short intervals. 
 
 General admission to the theatre was collected 
 at the outer door. (Gull's Horn-Book.) Extra 
 money was paid for admission to the rooms, and 
 for a stool upon the stage.^ A penny seems to have 
 been the lowest price of admission. None who go 
 " to Paris Garden, The Belle Savage, or Theatre, 
 to behold bear-baiting, enterludes, or fence-play, 
 can account of any pleasant spectacle unless they 
 first pay one penny at the gate, another at the 
 entry of the scaffolde, and the third for a quiet 
 standing." (Perambulation of Kent. Ed. of 
 1596.)* Two pence, however, was a common 
 admission fee. " If he be showed at Paul's it 
 
 * Money was then worth six or eight times its present 
 value. 
 
THE THEATRES 315 
 
 will cost you fourpence, if at The Theatre, two- 
 pence." (Lyly, Pap With a Hatchet.) Two- 
 penny rooms are referred to in connection 
 with The Fortune, also in A Mad World, My 
 Masters; The Woman Hater; Satiromastix, etc. 
 The most popular seats were upon the stage it- 
 self, where one paid for his stool. " Enter W. Sly, 
 a tireman following him with a stool." (Marston, 
 Indue. Malcontent.) Sixpence was the regular 
 price for a stool, but a shilling was often paid. 
 (Cf. Indue. Malcontent, The Roaring Girl, II. i., 
 etc.) 
 
 The plays were performed by daylight, in the 
 arternoon. Chettle, in the Kind Heart's Dream, 
 alludes to the bowling alleys between the city wall 
 and The Theatre, " that were wont in the afternoon 
 to be left empty, by the recourse of good fellows 
 unto that unprofitable recreation of stage play- 
 ing." October 8, 1694, Lord Hunsdon wrote to 
 the Lord Mayor, asking permission for his com- 
 pany to play at the Cross-Keys. " They will play 
 from 2 p. m. to 4, instead of beginning at 4i or 5, 
 use no drums or trumpets, and be contributory to 
 the parish poor." Performances at the private 
 theatres were given by candlelight, though in the 
 afternoon. Court presentations often took place 
 at night. 
 
 Once within the doorway of the theatre the 
 
316 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 spectator found himself within a large circular 
 enclosure into which projected the stage. The 
 early theatres were either square, hexagonal, or 
 circular on the outside, but, with the exception of 
 The Fortune and The Bear Garden during a part 
 of their existence, they were circular within. The 
 floor of the central area, the " yard " of public 
 theatres, the "pit" of private, was bare clay or 
 turf in the former, was provided with bench-like 
 seats in the latter. About the yard were three or 
 more galleries, one above the other, divided into 
 sections caUed rooms. Entrance to a room, which 
 in many cases contained seats, was extra, and paid 
 within the theatre. The lower rooms could be 
 reached by steps from the yard as well as from the 
 door in the rear of each room. Reference has 
 already been made to two-penny rooms and to 
 gentlemen's rooms. Private rooms are mentioned 
 in the Induction to the Malcontent. The music 
 room, often referred to in contemporary plays, 
 was a room next the stage, set apart for the use of 
 the musicians. The people who occupied the yard 
 were called groundlings. They were the commoner 
 sort of tradesmen, apprentices, petty-venders, loose 
 women, pick-pockets, and the like. The better 
 sort of quietly disposed people sat in the rooms ; 
 the unruly gallants upon the stage. Respect- 
 able women sometimes accompanied their husbands 
 
THE THEATRES 317 
 
 to the rooms, but on such occasions they went 
 masked. 
 
 The stage, which projected into the yard, was 
 rectangular and occupied about one-fourth of the 
 area. The stage was merely an open platform 
 about three feet from the ground, and visible to the 
 audience from the front and both sides. During 
 a performance the stage was strewn with rushes, 
 hke the floor of a domestic hall. At the rear were 
 two or three doors for the entrance and exit of 
 the actors. The stage, however, was not wholly 
 given up to the actors. It was here, upon either 
 side, that the gallants placed their stools or 
 "tripods," often arriving late for the mere 
 pleasure of creating a disturbance. 
 
 The space directly behind the stage was occu- 
 pied by a three-story structure. The stage doors 
 opened into the dressing room. The second story 
 was a room open to the view of the audience, 
 called the " upper stage " or the " stage gallery." 
 In it were presented those parts of a play that 
 were distinctly separated from the scene that was 
 being enacted on the main stage. In the balcony 
 scene of Romeo and Juliet Romeo stood on the 
 stage proper, Juhet on the upper stage. The 
 play before the king in Hamlet was acted on the 
 upper stage. In the Chronicle plays the defend- 
 ers of a city wall would appear upon the upper 
 
318 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 stage. The third story of this rear structure was 
 the hut that was visible from the outside of the 
 playhouse. From a point above the upper stage 
 a canopy projected far enough to cover about 
 one-third of the stage. It was called the shadow, 
 and served to shelter the actors in inclement 
 weather. 
 
 When the third bugle had blown and the play 
 was about to begin, the prologue entered, dressed 
 in a black cloak and crowned with bay leaves. The 
 superstitious Elizabethans believed that bay leaves 
 constituted a perfect protection against thunder 
 and lightning. Perhaps it was by design that the 
 prologue wore this symbolic adornment, for the 
 author of an unsatisfactory play was often the 
 recipient of boisterous manifestations of contempt 
 from the groundlings. When the prologue finished 
 his speech, which usually contained an apology 
 for the poverty of stage effects, or a forecast of 
 all or part of the play, he withdrew and the per- 
 formance commenced. The name of the play was 
 indicated by a placard or " title " that was either 
 hung up in some conspicuous place or carried by 
 the prologue. The place of the scene was indi- 
 cated in the same way. " How now, my honest 
 rogue," says the prologue in Wilt/ Begiled, " What 
 play shall we have here to-night." " Sir," answers 
 the player, " you may look upon the title." " Hang 
 
THE THEATRES 319 
 
 up the title: our scene is Rhodes," occurs in the 
 Spanish Tragedy. 
 
 Several recent writers have gone slightly astray 
 in their description of Elizabethan stage effects. 
 The assertion that the Elizabethans possessed 
 neither scenery nor curtain is not quite correct. 
 In a sense, they possessed both. The numerous 
 references to drawing the curtain to be found in 
 the texts and stage directions of old plays proves 
 the existence of a curtain of some sort. The posi- 
 tion of this curtain, which was usually called the 
 traverse, has given rise to considerable speculation. 
 It is drawn in the death scene at the end of Othello, 
 by which we know that it must have been in front 
 of an area large enough to contain a bed. In the 
 White Devil the traverse is drawn, discovering five 
 persons and a corpse. It is not likely — at least 
 there is no proof of the fact — that this space was 
 a recess beneath the upper stage and between the 
 stage doors.* A passage in Middleton's Family 
 of Love, III. ii., makes it seem probable that cur- 
 tains were sometimes used to close in the upper 
 stage. It is hardly likely, however, that the scenes 
 aUuded to above were enacted on the upper stage. 
 If this surmise is correct, the traverse must have 
 been a part of the furniture of the lower stage. 
 
 *In the Blackfriar's Theatre this space was occupied 
 by a third door. 
 
320 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 All references to the curtain, however, do not 
 necessarily refer to the traverse. An old engrav- 
 ing of the stage of the Red Bull Theatre (subse- 
 quent to Elizabethan times, however,) shows the 
 back of the stage so draped as to conceal the doors. 
 The frequent references to hiding behind the arras 
 doubtless refer to the presence of such hangings 
 as are represented in this old drawing. 
 
 It should be remembered that most of the old 
 theatres contained a hut above the upper stage, 
 whose purpose is not fully known, and that a roof 
 covered about one-third of the lower stage. It is 
 the present writer's opinion that overhead machin- 
 ery operated the traverse, and that it could be 
 dropped so as to divide the stage longitudinally 
 or transversely. In the Life and Death of Lord 
 Thomas Cromwell, III. ii., an attendant opens the 
 curtains in order that the doings in another room 
 may be visible to the audience. In Marston's 
 What You Will a person who has been sitting 
 upon the stage exclaims : " Come, we strain the 
 spectators' patience in delaying their expected de- 
 lights. Let's place ourselves within the curtains, 
 for, good faith, the stage is so little, we shall 
 wrong the general eye else very much." 
 
 The Elizabethan writers constantly allude to the 
 poverty of their stage effects. Doubtless they 
 spoke in comparison with the costly machinery of 
 
THE THEATRES 321 
 
 the court masques. At all events they have some- 
 times been taken too seriously. They were certainly 
 rich in properties. The following are from the 
 numerous lists of properties quoted by Fleay and 
 others. The castle for Lady Peace or Lady Plenty, 
 and the prison in which Discord is watched by 
 Argus ; frozen heads ; Turk's Heads ; a monster 
 in which Benbow played; women's maskers' hats; 
 fishers' maskers' nets ; spears for play of Cariclia; 
 holly for Button's play; holly for forest; fisher- 
 men's trays ; palmer's stuff ; vizard for ape's face ; 
 key and hailstones for Janus ; altar for Theagines ; 
 Andromeda's picture; black physician's beard; 
 palmer's hair; two squirts for Paul's children; the 
 monarch's gown ; a basket to hang up diligence in 
 play of Probia, etc. 
 
 The following is a list of properties supplied for 
 some revels in 1575: "Monsters, mountains, for- 
 ests, beasts, serpents; weapons for war, as guns, 
 dagges, bows, arrows, bills, halbards, boarspears, 
 fawchions, daggers, targets, pole-axes, clubs; 
 heads and head pieces ; armour counterfeit ; moss, 
 holly, ivy, bays, flowers; quarters; glue, paste, 
 paper, and such like ; with nails, hooks, horsetails ; 
 dishes for devil's eyes, heaven, hell, and the devil 
 and aU." 
 
 In February, 1577, a play was prepared for 
 court presentation, in which " a counterfeit well " 
 
322 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 was carried from The Bell in Gracious Street. Arti- 
 ficial horses often figure in the old plays ; a box- 
 tree is used in Twelfth Night; Slitgut climbs up 
 into a tree in Eastward Ho; Isabella cuts down 
 the arbour in The Spanish Tragedy; ordnance was 
 constantly used in the Chronicle plays ; in Locrine 
 there is a crocodile stung by a snake, and both of 
 them fall into the water; tents are pitched in 
 Richard III.; tables, chairs, beds, boxes, piles of 
 rock, etc., etc., are frequently mentioned. 
 
 Wright in The Second Generation of Actors 
 says that there were no scenes in Elizabethan times, 
 and it is impossible to disprove his assertion. 
 There is reason to believe, however, that there 
 was some scenery in the modern sense. There are 
 numerous passages in the old plays where people 
 point to and discuss certain things in a way that 
 would seem far more unreal if the actor was point- 
 ing to nothing in particular than if the passage 
 were altogether left out. The Elizabethans were 
 not shocked by certain situations that would seem 
 incongruous to our eyes, but this fact is hardly 
 warrant for supposing that they altogether lacked 
 the sense of congruity. While searching about 
 for a cheap substitute for the more elaborate scen- 
 ery of the court masques that was perfectly famil- 
 iar to the Elizabethans, one is struck by the 
 mention of painted cloths. These were popular 
 
THE THEATRES 323 
 
 substitutes for tapestry and interior hangings of 
 all kinds, decorated with pictures, often narrating 
 whole stories by a series. Such properties the 
 player possessed. Why should they not use them.'' 
 why should not many of the passages that so readily 
 apply to a visible scene have been uttered with the 
 scene described actually present in the form of a 
 painted cloth covering the back of the stage? The 
 hut above the stage gallery seems to have been too 
 pretentious a structure to serve no other purpose 
 than a flag-staff support and a standing ground 
 for the bugler. It may have contained rollers by 
 which the painted cloths were let down. The idea 
 of elaborate scenery was not unknown to the Eliza- 
 bethans, though barred from the public stage by 
 expense ; nor can we understand the rapid develop- 
 ment in construction of theatres built after the 
 Restoration unless we Imagine a beginning in 
 earher times. Such facts at least lend proba- 
 bility to the surmise that the Elizabethans had 
 crude representations of scenes other than what was 
 suggested by suitable properties. 
 
 The greatest money outlay noted in the ex- 
 penses of Henslowe was for costumes. The clothes 
 worn by the actors were often magnificent. They 
 were, however, Elizabethan garments. Costuming 
 in the modern sense was unknown. Cssar wore a 
 doublet, and Richard III. EKzabethan armour. One 
 
324 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 of the earliest allusions to the actual use of gar- 
 ments in correct historical setting is contained in 
 Wotton's account of the performance of Henry 
 VIII. (Cf. above, Globe Theatre.) 
 
 As the play progressed, the end of a scene was 
 marked, with but few exceptions, by the complete 
 clearing of the stage and change of title. The 
 end of an act was indicated by an intermission, and 
 the time occupied by music. This custom gave rise 
 to such expressions as " Before the music sounds 
 for the act" (What You Will), "Whilst the act 
 is playing" (Malcontent), etc. At the end of a 
 play was more music and a jig, a combination of 
 song and dance by the clown. The verses at the 
 end of Twelfth Night are such a jig. This diver- 
 sion followed even a serious tragedy. A perform- 
 ance at court ended with a prayer by the players 
 for the sovereign. 
 
 Such was the outward aspect of the perform- 
 ance. To complete the view, we must take into 
 consideration the kind of people who composed the 
 audience. That was a cruel, boisterous, half 
 savage age. The people were superstitious ; they 
 believed ardently in witchcraft, ghosts, and fairies ; 
 many of the sports both of boys and men were cruel 
 to a degree with which we have now no sympathy. 
 Branding on the face, slitting the nose, clipping 
 the ears, even hanging, were penalties inflicted 
 
THE THEATRES 325 
 
 for petty crimes. Men wore swords and were 
 accustomed to take the law into their own hands. 
 Prom such a people we must expect noisy behav- 
 iour in the play-house, though they were, in many 
 respects, much more appreciative than the modern 
 audience. 
 
 The people in the rooms were generally well 
 enough inclined. The characteristic scenes hap- 
 pened in the yard and on the margins of the stage. 
 The former, having no seats, tempted people to 
 move about during the performance. Doubtless 
 a person bent on crossing the pit used his arms 
 and elbows freely, and trod on people's toes. If 
 the audience were in a good humour this sort of 
 behaviour would provoke a general laugh; but, 
 likely as not, there would be angry words, blows, 
 sometimes a general row. 
 
 During the play venders of apples, cakes, ale, 
 tobacco, etc., hawked their goods about the yard 
 and in the galleries. Sometimes a deeply tragic 
 part was interrupted by a cry of "Pickpocket! 
 Caught!" The play would be stopped while 
 the luckless cut-purse was hustled out of the 
 theatre. 
 
 The gentlemen on the stage were httle better. It 
 was thought a clever trick to come in late enough 
 to interrupt the prologue with a lot of noise in 
 placing one's stool. Once in their seats the gal- 
 
326 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 lants did not scruple to bandy words with people 
 in the pit, flirt with women in the rooms, or inter- 
 rupt the players during a speech. We are told 
 that sometimes these gallants crowded so close 
 upon the stage that the players came forward and 
 appealed to the audience to know whether more 
 room was not necessary in which to act. If the 
 play was not liked, the actors were pelted and 
 hooted off the stage. 
 
 Among the numerous pamphlets of Elizabethan 
 times, none is so racy, so amusing, or so useful as 
 a bit of social history as The Gull's Hornbook. 
 The following is taken from the direction to a 
 young gallant about to go to the theatre: 
 
 " Whether therefore the gatherers of the pub- 
 lique or private Play-house stand to receive the after- 
 noones rent, let our Gallant (having paid it) 
 presently advance himself up to the Throne of the 
 Stage. ... on the very Rushes where the 
 Commedy is to daunce, yea, and under the state of 
 Cambises himselfe must our feathered Estridge, 
 like a piece of Ordnance, be planted, valiantly 
 (because impudently) beating downe the mewes 
 and hisses of the opposed rascality. 
 
 " By sitting on the stage, you may (with small 
 cost), purchase the deere acquaintance of the 
 boyes ; have a good stoole for sixpence : at any time 
 know what particular part any of the infants 
 
THE THEATRES 327 
 
 present : get your match lighted, examine the play- 
 suits, lace, and perhaps win wagers upon laying it 
 is copper, &c. And to conclude, whether you be 
 a foole or a Justice of the peace, a Cuckold or a 
 Capten, a Lord-Maiors sonne, or a dawcock, a 
 knave or an under-Sheriff ; of what stamp soever 
 you be, current or counterfet, the Stage, like time, 
 will bring you to most perfect light and lay you 
 open: neither are you to be hunted from thence, 
 though the Scarcrows in the yard hoot at you, 
 hiss at you, spit at you, yea, throw dirt even in 
 your teeth ; tis most gentleman like patience to en- 
 dure all this, and to laugh at the silly Animals: 
 but if the Rabble, with a full throat, crie, away 
 with the foole, you were worse than a madman to 
 tarry by it : for the gentleman and the fool should 
 
 never sit on the stage together 
 
 " Present not yourselfe on the Stage (especially 
 at a new play) untiH the quaking prologue hath 
 (by rubbing) got culor into his cheekes, and is 
 ready to give the trumpets their Cue, that hees 
 upon point to enter : for then it is time, as though 
 you were one of the properties, or that you dropt 
 out of ye Hangings, to creep from behind the 
 Arras, with your Tripos or three footed stoole in 
 one hand, and a teston mounted betweene a fore- 
 finger and a thumb in the other : for if you should 
 bestow your person upon the vulgar when the belly 
 
328 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 of the house is but half full, your apparell is quite 
 eaten up, the fashion lost, and the proportion of 
 your body in more danger to be devoured then if 
 it were served up in the Counter amongst the Powl- 
 try: avoid that as you would the Bastome. It 
 shall crown you with rich commendation to laugh 
 aloud in the middest of the most serious and saddest 
 scene of the terriblest Tragedy: and to let that 
 clapper (your tongue) be tost so high, that all 
 the house may ring of it. . . . As first, aU the 
 eyes in the galleries will leave walking after the 
 Players, and onely follow you : the simplest dolt in 
 the house snatches up your name, and when he 
 meets you in the streets, or that you fall into his 
 hands in the middle of a Watch, his word shall be 
 taken for you : heele cry Hees such a gallant, and 
 
 you passe 
 
 " Before the play begins, fall to cardes : you 
 may win or lose (as Fencers do in a prize) and 
 beate one another by confederacie, yet share the 
 money when you meet at supper: notwithstanding, 
 to gul the Ragga-muffins that stand aloofe gaping 
 at you, throw the cards (having first torn four or 
 five of them) round about the Stage, just upon 
 the third sound, as though you had lost: it skills 
 not if the four knaves ly on their backs, and out- 
 face the Audience; theres none such fools as dare 
 take exceptions at them, because, ere the play go 
 
THE THEATRES 329 
 
 off, better knaves than they will fall into the 
 company. 
 
 "Now sir, if the writer be a fellow that hath 
 either epigrammd you, or hath had a flirt at your 
 mistris, or hath brought either your feather, or 
 your red beard, or your Httle legs, &c. on the stage, 
 you shall disgrace him worsd than by tossing him 
 in a blancket, or giving him the bastinado in a 
 Tavern, if, in the middle of his play (bee it Pas- 
 toral or Comedy, Morall or Tragedie), you rise 
 with a screwd and discontented face from your 
 stoole to be gone: no matter whether the Scenes 
 be good or no ; the better they are the worse do you 
 distaste them: and, being on your feet, sneake not 
 away like a coward, but salute all your gentle 
 acquaintance, that are spread either on the rushes, 
 or on stooles about you, and draw what troupe you 
 can from the stage after you: the Mimicks are 
 beholden to you, for allowing them elbow roome: 
 their Poet cries, perhaps, a pox go with you, but 
 care not for that, theres no music without frets. 
 
 " Mary, if either the company, or the indisposi- 
 tion of the weather binde you to sit it out, my 
 counsel is then that you turne plain Ape, take up a 
 rush, and tickle the earnest eares of your fellow 
 gallants, to make other fooles fall a laughing: 
 mewe at passionate speeches, blare at merrie, find 
 fault with the musicke, whew at the childrens Action, 
 
330 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 whistle at the songs: and above all, curse the 
 
 sharers " 
 
 Though the Gull's Hornbook is a comical satire, 
 Dekker truly represents the time. Yet the Eliza- 
 bethan audience was not all bad. Their rudeness 
 was, in the main, the good-natured rudeness of the 
 age, not a rudeness due to malice. Furthermore, 
 they knew a good play when they saw it. Many 
 a poor comedy that satisfies the popular taste 
 to-day would never have got safely through the 
 first night three hundred years ago. This fact 
 has much to do with the general excellence of the 
 Elizabethan drama. After all, there was mani- 
 fested in the audience of that day the genuine 
 spirit of true sport, of every fellow for himself, 
 and give the Devil his due, that has always char- 
 acterised the English, whether of the time of the 
 Armada or of Waterloo. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE TAVERNS AND TAVERN LIFE 
 
 T I iHE poets' view of the Elizabethan tavern is 
 -■- not altogether correct. To be sure, the ale- 
 house was the place of good fellowship and jovial- 
 ity par excellence, the place for combats of 
 " merry wit," where met the numerous clubs of the 
 Apollo type. Yet, on the other hand, the tavern 
 was something different. It was constantly 
 haunted by the most disreputable characters of 
 London, it was the scene of frequent brawls, and 
 the nursery of all sorts of deceit and cozenage. 
 Officers of the crown, in their search for a criminal, 
 usually began to gather information at the ale- 
 houses and ordinaries of London. It was a regu- 
 lar practice of mine host to entice unfledged 
 country youths into his tavern, to lend them a 
 guiding hand through the push of boisterous Lon- 
 don, to obtain their confidence by a thousand acts 
 of trivial kindness, and then to persuade them to 
 excessive extravagance. To further the success 
 of this practice the host would advance money, 
 and, when the gull was deeply in debt, put on the 
 screws and coUect with usury, often ruining the 
 would-be gallant altogether and lodging him in a 
 
 331 
 
332 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 debtor's prison. "I tell you," says the First Of- 
 ficer in Middleton's Phoenix, IV. i., " our safest 
 way will be to arrest him when he comes out a' th' 
 tavern, for then he will be half drunk and will not 
 stand upon his weapon." 
 
 The host of a tavern was responsible to his 
 guests for the safety of their property while under 
 his care — hence the long, narrow entrances, easily 
 closed and defended, which gave upon the galleried 
 courtyards. Not only were plays performed in 
 many of these tavern courts, but they were also 
 the scene of all sorts of business transactions. It 
 was not uncommon for the inn-keeper to perform 
 the oiBce of a money lender and banker. In Mid- 
 dleton's Michmaelmus Term, II. iii., after a bond 
 is taken, occurs the following line, " Come, let's 
 all to the next tavern to see the money paid." As 
 in later times, the Elizabethan tavern was a rendez- 
 vous for duellists, and also a place as popular as 
 the streets with courtesans. 
 
 The most characteristic external indication of a 
 tavern is referred to in the line, " I am not as well 
 known by my wit as an ale-house by a red lattice." 
 (Marston, Ant. and Mel., I. iv. 1 ) ; and the bush 
 the most frequent of tavern signj, is familiar to 
 all readers of As You Like It (Epilogue). Though 
 much ingenuity was exercised in choosing a 
 variety of tavern signs, the same were duplicated 
 

 
 
TAVERNS, TAVERN LIFE 333 
 
 quite as frequently as are street names to-day. 
 Pennant records what was apparently an unique 
 one. Near Chancery Lane, between it and the 
 turnstile, was a sign which bore a picture of St. 
 John's head on a charger. Below" it was the 
 motto, " Good eating within." Booths and benches 
 were other outside indications of a tavern, as well as 
 a post on which were placed advertisements, an- 
 nouncements, and often bills of the play. 
 
 The scarcity of small coins in Elizabethan 
 times gave rise to the habit of using tokens or 
 counters of brass, tin, or leather, that were issued 
 by the individual tavern keepers. Of course these 
 tokens were redeemable only at the tavern by which 
 they were issued. It was the custom to give each 
 room of the tavern an individual name, as the Dol- 
 phin chamber, the Blue chamber, etc. It was also 
 the custom for guests to send presents of wine to 
 each other from room to room, sometimes to a 
 stranger, in which case a bottle of wine served the 
 purpose of a card of introduction. The score was 
 usually written in chalk on a board by the drawer, 
 or by the drinker himself ; and " score at the bar " 
 was one of the common cries of tapsters. It may 
 be added that the host was generally a reputable 
 member of one of the Livery Companies, and that 
 he usually turned the management of the establish- 
 ment over to his wife. 
 
334 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 It would be impossible to give a complete list 
 of the London taverns. A record dated 1574 
 asserts that there were 876 taverns in Middlesex, 
 and 454 in Surrey. Most of these were in London. 
 The following, from an old black-letter quarto 
 whose title page has been lost, enumerates the prin- 
 cipal taverns of the day : 
 
 There hath been great sale and utterance of wine. 
 
 Besides beer and ale and ipocras fine. 
 
 In every country, region, and nation; 
 
 Chiefly at Billingsgate at the Salutation, 
 
 And Boar's Head ner London Stone. 
 
 The Swan at Dowgate, a tavern well beknown. 
 
 The Milk in Cheape and then the BuU Head, 
 
 And many like places that make noses red: 
 
 The Boar's Head in Old Fish Street, Three Cranes in the 
 
 Vintry, 
 And now of late St. Martin's in the Sentree; 
 The WindmiU in Lothburry, the Ship at the Exchange, 
 King's Head in New Fish Street, where roysters do 
 
 range ; 
 The Mermaid in CornhiU, Red Lion in the Strand, 
 Three Tuns, Newgate Market, Old Fish Street at the 
 
 Swan. 
 
 (The above is quoted by Drake, vol. 2, page 133. 
 The following is from the Harleian MS. 6850, 
 fol31.) 
 
 " On the way from Whitehall to Charing Cross 
 we pass the White Heart, the Red Lion, the Mer- 
 maide, iij Tuns, Salutation, the Graihound, the 
 
TAVERNS, TAVERN LIFE 335 
 
 Bell, the Golden Lion. In sight of Charing Cross : 
 The Garter, the Crown, the Bear and Ragged 
 Staff, the Angel, the King Harry Head. There 
 from Charing Cross towards ye cittie : another White 
 Hart, the Eagle and child, the Helmet, the Swan, 
 the Bell, King Harry Head, the Flower de Luce, 
 Angel, Holy Lambe, the Bear and Harrow, the 
 Plough, the Shippe, the Black Bell, another King 
 Harry Head, the Bull Head, the Golden Bull, a 
 sixpenny ordinary, another Flower-de-luce, the 
 Red Lion, the Horns, the White Horse, the Prin- 
 cess' arms, Bell Savage's Inn, the St. John the 
 Baptist, the Talbot, the Ship of War, the St. Dun- 
 stan, the Hercules, or the Owld Man Tavern, the 
 Mitre, another King Harry Head, iij Tuns, and 
 the iij Cranes." 
 
 The following quotations fully describe the con- 
 dition of the Elizabethan inns. " Those towns 
 which we call thoroughfares have great and sump- 
 tuous inns builded in them, for the receiving of 
 such travellers and strangers as pass to and fro. 
 The manner of harbouring wherein is not Hke to 
 that of some other countries, in which the host, 
 or goodman of the house, doth challenge a lordly 
 authority over his guests, but clean otherwise, since 
 every man may use his inn as his own house in 
 England, and have for his money how great or 
 little variety of victuals, and such other service 
 
336 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 as himself shall think expedient to call for. Our 
 inns are also very well furnished with naperie, 
 bedding and tapestry, especially with naperie; for 
 besides the linen used at the tables, which is com- 
 monly washed daily, is such and so much as be- 
 longeth to the estate and calling of the guest. 
 Each comer is sure to lie in clean sheets, wherein 
 no man hath been lodged since they came from 
 the laundress, or out of the water wherein they 
 were last washed. If the traveller have an horse, 
 his bed doth cost him nothing, but if he go on foot 
 he is sure to pay a penny for the same ; but whether 
 he be a horseman or a footman if his chamber be 
 once appointed he may carry the key with him, 
 as of his own house so long as he lodgeth there. 
 If he lose aught while he abideth in the inn, the 
 host is bound by a general custom to restore the 
 damage, so that there is no greater security any- 
 where for the traveller than in the greatest inns 
 of England. Their horses in like sort are walked, 
 dressed, and looked unto by certain hostlers or 
 hired servants, appointed at the charges of the 
 goodman of the house, who in hope of extraordinary 
 reward will deal very diligently after outward 
 appearance in their function and calling. Herein, 
 nevertheless, are many of them blameworthy, in 
 that they do not only deceive the beast oftentimes of 
 his allowance by sundry means, except their owners 
 
TAVERNS, TAVERN LIFE 337 
 
 look well unto them; but also make such packs 
 with slipper merchants which hunt after prey, that 
 many an honest man is spoiled of his goods as 
 he travelleth to and fro, in which feat also the 
 counsel of the tapsters or drawers of drink, and 
 chamberlains is not seldom behind or wanting. 
 Certes I believe not that chapman or traveller in 
 England is robbed by the way without the knowl- 
 edge of some of them ; for when he cometh into the 
 inn, and alighteth from his horse, the hostler is 
 forthwith very busy to take down his budget or 
 capcase in the yard from his saddle bow which he 
 peiseth slyly in his hand to feel the weight thereof ; 
 or if he miss at this pitch, when the guest hath 
 taken up his chamber, the chamberlain which 
 looketh to the making of the beds, will be sure to 
 remove it from the place where the owner hath 
 set it, as if it were to set it more conveniently 
 somewhere else, whereby he getteth an inkling 
 whether it be money or other sort wares, and thereof 
 giveth warning to such odd guests as haunt the 
 house and are of his confidence, to the utter un- 
 doing of many an honest yeoman as he journeyeth 
 by the way. The tapster in like sort for his part 
 doth mark his behaviour and what plenty of money 
 he draweth when he payeth the shot [reckoning], 
 to the like end; so that it shall be an hard matter 
 to escape all their subtle practises. Some think 
 
338 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 it a gay matter to commit their budgets at their 
 coming to the goodman of the house ; but thereby 
 they oft bewray themselves. For albeit their 
 money be safe for the time that it is in his hands 
 (for you shall not hear that a man is robbed in 
 his inn) yet after their departure the host can 
 make no warranty of the same, since his protec- 
 tion extendeth no further than the gate of his 
 own house : and there cannot be a surer token to 
 such as pray and watch for these booties, than 
 to see any guest deliver his capcase in such a man- 
 ner. In all our inns we have plenty of ale, beer, 
 and sundry kinds of wine, and such is the capa- 
 city of some of them that they are able to lodge 
 two hundred persons, and their horses at ease, and 
 there too with a very short warning make pro- 
 vision for their diet, as to him that is unacquainted 
 withal shall seem incredible. Howbeit, of all Eng- 
 land there are no worse inns than in London, and 
 yet many are there far better than the best that 
 I have heard of in any foreign country, if all 
 circumstances be duly considered. But to leave 
 this and go in hand with my purpose. 
 Finally there is not so much omitted among them 
 as the gorgeousness of their very signs at their 
 doors, wherein some do consume thirty or forty 
 pounds, a mere vanity in mine opinion, but so 
 vain will they needs be and that not only to give 
 
TAVERNS, TAVERN LIFE 339 
 
 some outward token of the innkeeper's wealth, but 
 also to procure good guests to the frequenting of 
 their houses in hope there to be well used." (Har- 
 rison, 1587.) 
 
 " The world affords no such inns as England 
 hath, either for good and cheap entertainment 
 after the Guests owne pleasure, or for humble 
 attendance on passengers ; yea, even in very poore 
 villages. . . . For as soone as a passenger 
 comes to an Inne, the servants run to him, and one 
 takes his horse, and walks him till he be cold, 
 then rubs him and gives him meate, yet I must say 
 they are not much to be trusted in this last 
 point, without the eye of the master or his servant 
 to oversee them. Another servant gives the pas- 
 senger his chamber, and kindles his fier; a third 
 pulls off his bootes and makes them cleane. Then 
 the Host or the Hostess visit him; and if he will 
 eat with the Host or at a common table with 
 others, his meal will cost him sixpence, or in some 
 places but fourpence (yet this course is less hon- 
 ourable, and not used by Gentlemen) ; but if he 
 will eat in his chamber, he commands what meat 
 he will, according to his appetite, and as much as 
 he thinks fit for him and his company, yea, the 
 kitchen is open to him, to command the meat to 
 be dressed as he best hkes; and when he sits at 
 Table the Host or Hostess will accompany him, 
 
340 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 or, if they have many Guests, will at least visit 
 him, taking it for courtesie to be bid sit downe; 
 while he eats, if he have company especially, he 
 shall be offered musicke, which he may freely take 
 or refuse ; and if he be solitary, the musicians will 
 give him the good day with music in the morn- 
 ing. It is the custom, and no way disgraceful, 
 to set up part of supper for his breakfast. In the 
 evening, or in the morning after breakfast (for 
 the common sort use not to dine, but ride from 
 breakfast to supper time, yet coming early to 
 the inn for better resting of their horses) he shall 
 have reckoning in writing, and if it seem unrea- 
 sonable, the Host shall satisfy him either for the 
 due price, or by abating a part, especially if the 
 servant deceive him any way, which one of expe- 
 rience shall soon find. ... I wiU now only 
 add that a gentleman and his man shall spend as 
 much as if he was accompanied with another gentle- 
 man and his man; and if gentlemen will in such 
 sort joine together to eate at one table, the ex- 
 penses wiU be much diminished. Lastly, a man 
 cannot more freely command at home in his owne 
 House, than he may do in the Inne; and at part- 
 ing if he will give some few pence to the chamber- 
 Iain and hostler, they will wish him a happy jour- 
 ney." (Fynes Morysonj Itinerary, 1617.) 
 
 The word ordinary properly referred to a meal 
 
TAVERNS, TAVERN LIFE 34-1 
 
 at which each paid a fixed sum and all sat down 
 at the same table. Ordinaries were sometimes 
 served exclusively at certain places, but also at 
 many of the regular taverns ; hence the name came 
 into use for any kind of eating house. " The 
 nurses of these (worse than heathenish) hellish 
 exercises are places called Ordinary Tables; of 
 which there are in London more in number to hon- 
 our the devil than churches to serve the living 
 God." (George Whetstone, 2d part of The Enemy 
 to Untruthfulness, 1586.) We hear of ordinaries 
 of all prices from three half pence to two shil- 
 lings. Fletcher, in The Wild Goose Chase, I. i., 
 mentions a ten crown ordinary, and Middleton, in 
 Father Hubbard's Tales, tells of a person who 
 spent five pounds at an ordinary. 
 
 Among the Darrell Papers, published by Mr. 
 Hubert Hall, is an interesting account-book that 
 gives information concerning the expense of meals 
 in a reputable tavern frequented by gentlemen. 
 On April 16, 1589, Wild Darrell paid for a dinner 
 consisting of beef, mutton, chicken, bacon, pigeon, 
 bread, and beer, 8s. 9d. ; supper on the same day 
 cost 4s. lOd. Dinner on the next day, however, 
 was but 4s. lid., and on the next Friday (a fish 
 day) he spent for dinner 2s. 2d., and for supper 
 "nil." This charge, however, did not include 
 bread and beer, for we find 8s. 6d. set down as a 
 
2 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 supper expense on the next Sunday " For Bread 
 and Beare since Thursday night." It is also in- 
 teresting to note the separate articles charged in 
 the account for a single meal. On Friday at 
 dinner of May 2, Darrell spent for " A side of 
 habdyn, and another of green fishe, 14d. ; Foure 
 playses, 12d. ; 2 whitinges, 8d. ; conger, 8d. ; but- 
 ter, 4d. ; Lettise for sallett, 2d. ; a pynt of white 
 wyne and another of clarett, 6d. ; sugar, 2d. ; a 
 pound of butter, 5d. ; for dressing the fishe, 8d. ; 
 Oyle and sugar for sallett, 2d; More for butter, 
 2d. ; a pounde of candles, 4d." 
 
 On coming to London from the country the 
 traveller's first task, if he did not possess a town 
 house, was to go in search of a tavern, which he 
 chose in a neighbourhood that was convenient to 
 his affairs. Dekker tells us that the visitor's first 
 business was to become acquainted with the drawers. 
 These were the all-round officers of the tavern. 
 It was their duty not only to draw wine and ale, 
 but to meet the guest at the door, conduct him to 
 his room, run errands about the house, and afford 
 information in every possible way. We have 
 already seen the part they played in the numerous 
 robberies by the way, a characteristic of rural 
 taverns, however, rather than of London. The 
 visitor always called the drawer by his first name, 
 and the fellow replied by the characteristic " Anon, 
 
TAVERNS, TAVERN LIFE 343 
 
 sir." As soon as the gallant became well acquainted 
 with the drawers he could begin to take liberties 
 in the way of dominating the household and run- 
 ning up extravagant bills. He not only bought 
 the commodities for sale in the tavern on trust, 
 but also borrowed money and had it scored to his 
 account. " Bring me money from the bar " is a 
 cry not unusual in the old plays. In many of the 
 taverns the ale was served by bar-maids. Their 
 presence, however, unless a member of the land- 
 lord's family, was not so common as at present, 
 and such a person was likely to be dissolute and 
 characteristic of the meaner taverns. In Hey- 
 wood's Fair Maid of the West people are always 
 on the point of wonder that Bess Bridges, who has 
 made the house so popular, should withal be chaste. 
 The host and hostess were great personages in 
 those days. They knew everyone about the coun- 
 try, high and low, and in Henry IV. we find that 
 they are fit companions for princes. The hostess 
 particularly was the one to make her visitors wel- 
 come, a task she performed in a number of ways. 
 "I am as common in the court as a hostess's lips 
 in the country," occurs in the Malcontent. " My 
 host drinking, my hostess dancing with the wor- 
 shipful justice" (Peele, Merry Jests), illustrates 
 the familiarity that existed between landlord and 
 guest. 
 
344 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 It was not an uncommon custom for a man to 
 visit the kitchen of a tavern and examine it to 
 see if its cleanliness suited his taste, or to super- 
 intend the cooking of his meals. Dekker, however, 
 discountenances this habit in the following words: 
 " The first question you are to make (after dis- 
 charging of your pocket of Tobacco and pipes, 
 and the household stuff thereto belonging) shall 
 be for an inventorie of the Kitchen: for it were 
 more then most Tailor-like, to be suspected you 
 were in league with some Kitchen-wench, to de- 
 scende yourselfe, to offend your stomach with the 
 sight of the Larder, and happily to grease your 
 Accoustrements. Having therefore received this 
 bill, you shall (like a capten putting up deere 
 paies) have many Sallads stand on your table, as it 
 were for blankes to the other more servicable dishes : 
 and according to the time of the year, vary your 
 fare, etc." 
 
 Taverns were equally popular with people who 
 happened in for a game of cards or dice, or merely 
 to talk and while away the time with drink and 
 tobacco. There was the large public room on the 
 first floor where stood the bar. But this was not 
 so popular as a lounging place as the numerous 
 private rooms in the possession of every tavern. 
 When one or more guests took possession of a room 
 it was considered their personal property, so to 
 
TAVERNS, TAVERN LIFE 345 
 
 speak, until they left it. The entrance of another 
 person was considered an intrusion, and when ef- 
 fected was always done with profuse apologies 
 and protestations that the newcomer would leave 
 if there were the least objection to his presence. 
 Tavern fights were often the result of forcible 
 entrance into another room, and the habit was 
 often resorted to as a trumped-up excuse for a 
 duel. It is worth while to note in connection with 
 the use of rooms for gaming that the old plays 
 contain many references to calling upon the 
 drawer for a pair of false dice or a similar deck 
 of cards. One may exercise his fancy as to 
 whether this was one of the perquisites of familiar 
 acquaintance with the drawers. 
 
 Bragging and braggart should be the motto of 
 every Elizabethan tavern haunter. Note one of 
 *the directions given by Dekker: "Enquire what 
 gallants sup in the next roome, and if there be 
 any of your acquaintance, do not you, (after the 
 City fashion) send them a pottle of wine, and your 
 name, sweetned in two pittiful papers of Suger, 
 with some filthy apology crammed into the mouth 
 of a drawer; but rather keep a boy in fee, who 
 underhand shall proclaime you in every roome, 
 what a gallant fellowe you are, how much you 
 spend yearly in Taverns, what a great gamester, 
 what custome you bring to the house, in what 
 
346 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 witty discourse you maintain a table, what Gentle- 
 women or Citizens wives you can with a wet finger 
 have at any time to sup with you, and such like. 
 By which Encomiasticks of his, they that know 
 you shall admire you and thinke themselves to bee 
 brought into a paradice but to be meanely in your 
 acquaintance ; and if any of your endeered friends 
 be in the house, and beate the same Ivy bush that 
 yourself e does, you may join companies and bee 
 drunke together most publickly." 
 
 Whether it was characteristic of Englishraten 
 three hundred years ago to elude paying honest 
 debts or not is a question, but certain it is that 
 this habit is made the subject of numerous jests in 
 the old plays ; especially is this true in the case 
 of tavern bills. Dekker has this to say on the 
 subject. "But in such a deluge of drinke, take 
 heede that no man counterfeit him selfe druncke 
 to free his purse from the danger of the shot ; tis 
 a usual thing now amongst gentlemen ; it had wont 
 bee the quality of Cocknies: I should advise you 
 to leave so much brains in your head as to prevent 
 this." 
 
 The peculiar character of the ordinary has 
 already been alluded to. Though many taverns 
 were ordinaries, Dekker gives a separate chapter 
 to the behaviour in each of these places of enter- 
 tainment. Half after eleven in the morning, he 
 
TAVERNS, TAVERN LIFE 34T 
 
 says, is the proper time to repair to an ordinary ; 
 that is, about half an hour before the meal is 
 served. One remembers the sports and customs 
 of an Elizabethan ordinary so graphically set 
 forth by Scott in the Fortunes of Nigel. The 
 picture is not overdrawn. Dekker goes into full 
 details. "Being arrived in the room," he directs, 
 " salute not any but those of your acquaintance : 
 walk up and downe by the rest as scornfully and 
 as carelessly as a Gentleman Usher: Select some 
 friend (having first thrown off your claoke) to 
 walke up and down the room with you, let him be 
 suited [dressed] if you can, worse by farre then 
 yourself e, he will be a foyle to you: and this will 
 be a meanes to publish your clothes better than 
 Powles, a Tenniscourt, or a Playhouse; discourse 
 as lowd as you can, no matter to what purpose if 
 you but make a noise, and laugh in fashion, and 
 have a good sour face to promise quarrelling, you 
 shall be much observed." 
 
 Dekker, in his inimitable way, goes on to give 
 more detailed directions as to the manner of be- 
 haviour of different sorts of people, as the soldier, 
 courtier, and the poet. Against the latter class 
 of writers he seems to have an especial grudge. 
 " Observe no man," he says, " doff not cap to that 
 gentleman to day at dinner, to whom, not two 
 nights since, you were beholden for a supper; but. 
 
S48 SHAKESPEARE'S LONDON 
 
 after a turn or two in the roome, take occasion 
 (pulling out your gloves) to have some Epigram, 
 or Satyre, or Sonnet fastned in one of them, that 
 may (as it were vomittingly to you) offer itself e 
 to the Gentlemen : they will presently desire it : but 
 without much conjuration from them, and a pretty 
 kind of counterfeit loathness in yourselfe, do not 
 read it; and though it be none of your owne, 
 sweare you made it. Mary, if you chance to get 
 into your hands any witty thing of another mans, 
 that is somewhat better, I would councell you then, 
 if demand be made who composed it, you may say : 
 faith, a learned Gentleman, a very worthy friend. 
 And this seeming to lay it on another man will be 
 counted either modestie in you, or a sign that you 
 are not ambitious of praise, or else that you dare 
 not take it upon you, for fear of the sharpness it 
 carries with it. Besides, it will add much to your 
 fame to let your tongue walke faster then your 
 teeth, though you be never so hungry, and, rather 
 then you should sit like a dumb Coxcombe, to 
 repeat by heart either some verses of your owne, 
 or of any other mans, stretching even very good 
 lines upon the rack of censure: though it be 
 against all law, honestie, or conscience, it may 
 chance save you the price of your Ordinary, and 
 beget you other Suppliments. Mary, I would fur- 
 ther intreat our Poet to be in league with the 
 
TAVERNS, TAVERN LIFE 349 
 
 Mistress of the Ordinary, because from her (upon 
 condition that he will but ryme knights and young 
 gentlemen to her house, and maintain the table in 
 good fooling) he may easily make up his mouth 
 at her cost Gratis." 
 
 Dekker here loses grasp of the proprieties and 
 gives a number of unquotable suggestions for all 
 sorts and conditions of men, but resumes a more 
 decorous tone when he reaches lastly. You must 
 not fail " at your departure forth the house, to 
 kiss mine Hostis over the barre, or to accept of the 
 courtesie of the Cellar when tis offered you by the 
 drawers, and you must know that kindness never 
 creeps upon them, but when they see you almost 
 cleft to the shoulders, or to bid any of the vintners 
 good night, is as commendable as for a Barber 
 after trimming to lave your face with sweet 
 water." 
 
 THE END 
 
INDEX 
 
 Aldersgate, 199 
 
 Aldgate, 182 
 
 Aldgate High Street, 184 
 
 Alsatia, 239 
 
 Anatomies, 110 
 
 Andrew's, see Saint An- 
 drew's 
 
 Anthony, see Saint Anthony 
 
 Apprentices, 25 
 
 Apprentices to medicine, 116 
 
 ApoUo Club, 237 
 
 Archery, 209 
 
 Architecture, domestic, 13 
 
 Arthur's Show, 209 
 
 Artillery Ground and Com- 
 pany, 216 
 
 Arundel House, 243 
 
 Astrology, 7 
 
 Augustine, see Saint Au- 
 gustine 
 
 Austin Friars, 198 
 
 Bakehs' Hall, 130 
 BakeweU Hall, 195 
 Banks, 5 
 Bankside, 297 
 Barber-Surgeons, 109 
 Bartholomew, see Saint Bar- 
 tholomew 
 Bartholomew Fair, 224 
 
 Battle Abbey, 275 
 Baynard Castle, 119 
 Bear Garden, 298 
 Beauchamp Tower, 142 
 Bedlam, 206 
 Bedroom, the, 17 
 BeU Savage, 290 
 Bell Tower, 142 
 Bermondsey Abbey, 276 
 Bethlehem Hospital, 206 
 BilMngsgate, 128 
 Bishopsgate, 42 
 Bishopsgate Street, 202 
 Blackfriar's Inn, 290 
 Blackfriar's Theatre, 306 
 Blackwell Hall, 195 
 Bladder Street, 152 
 Blanch Apleton, 189 
 Bloody Tower, 138 
 Blowbladder Street, 152 
 Blue Coat School, 151 
 Boar's Head Tavern, 265, 
 
 290 
 Books in private libraries, 19 
 Book-shops, 98, 222, 269 
 Bordello, see Stews 
 Botolph, see Saint Botolph 
 Bread, laws governing the 
 
 baking of, 130 
 Bridge, see London Bridge 
 
 351 
 
352 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Bridge, destruction of, 44 
 Bridgefoot. 263 
 Bridge House, 274 
 Bridgeward Without, see 
 
 Southwark 
 Bridgewater House, 193 
 Britannia, 122 
 Building regulations, 70 
 Bull Tavern, 184, 290 
 Burleigh House 247 
 Butchers' Row, 151 
 
 Cade, Jack, 268 
 
 Camden, WiUiam, 121 
 
 Carter Lane, 107 
 
 Characteristics of the Eliza- 
 bethans, 2 
 
 Charing Cross, 252 
 
 Charter House, 193 
 
 Cheapside, 153 
 
 Cheapside Conduit, 156 
 
 Cheapside Cross, 156 
 
 Cheapside Market, 153 
 
 Checker Tavern, 266 
 
 Chopines, 38 
 
 Christ's Hospital, 151 
 
 Clink Prison, 283 
 
 Cold Harbour, 127 
 
 College of Heralds, 120 
 
 College of Physicians, 109 
 
 Conduits, 75 
 
 Costume, 26 
 
 Costumes of masques at 
 court, 12 
 
 Cow Lane, booksellers in, 
 222 
 
 Credulity of the people, 3 
 Cromwell House, 200 
 Crosby Hall, 202 
 Cross, Cheapside, 156 
 Cross-Keys Tavern, 390 
 Cross, Paul's, 84, 100 
 Curtain Theatre, 29T 
 Custom House, 129 
 Cut-purse School, 128 
 
 Dance or Death, 83 
 Devil Tavern, 237 
 Dingham, Mrs., introducer 
 
 of starch, 34 
 Ditch, 68 
 
 Domestic architecture, 13 
 Doublet, the, 36 
 Dowgate, 125 
 
 Dress, extravagance of, 26 
 Duck Lane, 221 
 Duke Humphrey, 99 
 Duke's Place, 180 
 Durham House, 248 
 
 Edtjcatiojt of the lower 
 
 CLASSES, 3 
 
 Elizabeth, Excommunication 
 of, 105 
 
 Erber House, 126 
 
 Euphues, 9 
 
 Exchange, Royal, 164 
 
 Excommunication of Eliza- 
 beth, 105 
 
 Exeter House, 242 
 
 Extravagance of dress, 26 
 
INDEX 
 
 353 
 
 Faibies, 8 
 
 Faith, see Saint Faith 
 
 Farthingale, the, 3T 
 
 Filthy streets, 71 
 
 Finsbury, 215, 291 
 
 Firearms, 215 
 
 Fleet Bridge, 236 
 
 Fleet Conduit, 236 
 
 Fleet Prison, 238 
 
 Fleet Street, 235 
 
 Fleet Street taverns, 237 
 
 Floors covered with rushes, 
 
 16 
 Foreign population, 69 
 Foreign travel, 2 
 Fortune Theatre, 307 
 Freedom of manners, 9 
 
 Harvey, circulation of the 
 
 blood, lis , 
 Hats, 31 
 
 Helen's, see Saint Helen's 
 Heralds, College of, 120 
 Heresy, first punishment 
 
 for, 54 
 Hermitage, the, 149 
 Hog Lane, 148, 184 
 Holborn Bridge, 233, 
 Holywell Priory, 291 
 Hope Theatre, see Bear 
 
 Garden 
 Houndsditch, 186 
 House decoration, 14 
 Houses, character of, 72 
 Housewife, duties of, 22 
 
 Gaming, 11 
 Glltspur Street, 222 
 Globe Theatre, 305 
 Gog and Magog, 162 
 Goldsmiths' Row, 159 
 Goodman's Fields, 147 
 Gresham, Sir Thomas, 164 
 GuildhaU, 160 
 
 Guilds, see Livery Com- 
 panies 
 Guilds, 160 
 Gunpowder conspirators, 107 
 
 HAmDEESsiNe, 30 
 Halfmoon Tavern, 192 
 Hall, the, 16 
 
 Hart's Horn Tavern, 107 
 .Harvard House, 267 
 
 Inns used as theatres, 29& 
 
 Jesus Chapel, 87 
 
 Katharine, see Saint Kath- 
 arine 
 
 Leadenhall, 173, 210 
 Leicester House, 242 
 Library, the, 18 
 Lighting streets, 74 
 Lions on the Tower, 140 
 Little Britain, 192, 231 
 Livery Companies, 50, 160 
 Lombard Street, 188 
 London, appearance of, 60 
 London, first charter of, 46 
 
354 
 
 INDEX 
 
 London in the time of the 
 
 Danes, 43 
 London in the time of the 
 
 Romans, 41 
 London in the time of the 
 
 Saxons, 43 
 London, limits of, 69 
 London, importance of, 59 
 London Bridge, 63, 263 
 London Wall, 66 
 Londoners electing the 
 
 king, 48 
 Long Lane, 221, 223 
 Lotteries in Saint Paul's, 93 
 Lumley, Lord, 145 
 Lyly's Euphues, 9 
 
 Magnus, see Saint Magnus 
 Martin's, see Saint Martin's 
 Mary, see Saint Mary 
 Masques at court, 13 
 Mayor of London, 49 
 Meals, how served, 30, 34 
 Meals, cost of at taverns, 341 
 Medicine, condition of sci- 
 ence of, 109 
 Mermaid Tavern, 154 
 Middle classes, 4 
 Military affairs, 210 
 Minories, 147 
 Mirrors worn in hats, 31 
 Money, value of, 314 note 
 Montague Close, 281 
 Moorfields, 315 
 Morocco, 5 
 JVIountgodard Street, 153 
 
 Nag's Head Tavehn, 154 
 Newgate Street, ISO 
 Newington Butts, 310 
 Nightinguild Lane, 148 
 " Nobody," 193 
 
 Olave, see Saint Olave 
 Out of door life, 13 
 
 Padded gaements, 28 
 Page, duties of the, 32 
 Pageants, 12, 155 
 Pardon Churchyard, 83 
 Paris Garden, 304 note 
 Paul's, see Saint Paul's 
 Petty France, 205 
 Physicians, College of, 109 
 Pie Powder Court, 226 
 Plays given in taverns, 287 
 Plays, manner of perform- 
 ing, 312 
 Pope, Sir Thomas, 277 
 Police, 74 
 Population, 69 
 Puddle Dock, 118 
 Puritan opposition to plays, 
 
 QuEENHrTHE, 123 
 
 Rahere, founder of Saint 
 Bartholomew's Priory, 222 
 Razed shoes, 38 
 Reading, 18 
 Red Bull Theatre, 311 
 Red Lattice, 332 
 
INDEX 
 
 355 
 
 Roman London, 41 
 Roses, provincial, 38 
 Rose Theatre, 304 
 Royal Exchange, 164 
 Ruffs, 33 
 Rushes upon floors, 16 
 
 Saint Andrew's Undee- 
 SHAFT, 174 
 
 Saint Anthony's Church and 
 
 School, 196 
 Saint Augustine Church, 199 
 Saint Bartholomew, 221 
 Saint Bartholomew's Brew 
 
 House, 151 
 Saint Bartholomew's Hos- 
 pital, 223 
 Saint Bartholomew's Priory, 
 
 foundation of, 222 
 Saint Botolph's Church, 192, 
 
 205 
 Saint Faith, 87 
 Saint Helen's Nunnery, 204 
 Saint Katharine, Hospital 
 
 of, 146 
 Saint Magnus' Church, 127 
 Saint Martin's le Grand, 191 
 Saint Mary Bethlehem Hos- 
 pital, 206 
 Saint Mary Overy, 278 
 Saint Olave's Church, 273 
 Saint Paul's Churchyard, 81 
 Saint Paul's gates, 82 
 Saint Paul's, Pardon Church- 
 yard, 83 
 Saint Paul's Cross, 84, 100 
 
 Saint Paul's School, 84 
 
 Saint Paul's, Jesus Chapel, 
 87 
 
 Saint Paul's, Saint Faith, 
 87 
 
 Saint Paul's, Chapter House, 
 88 
 
 Saint Paul's Walk, 89 
 
 Saint Paul's, lotteries in, 93 
 
 Saint Paul's, book shops, 98 
 
 Saint Paul's, steeple of, 103 
 
 Saint Paul's, burning of 
 steeple, 104 
 
 Saint Saviour's, 278 
 
 Saint Sepulchre's, 229 
 
 Saint Thomas's Hospital, 
 267 
 
 Saracen's Head, 184 
 
 Saviour's, see Saint 
 
 Saviour's 
 
 Savoy, 245 
 
 Saxon London, 42 
 
 Scenery in the play-houses, 
 322 
 
 Sepulchre, see Saint Sepul- 
 chre 
 
 Servants, rules for govern- 
 ing, 21 
 
 Shambles, the, 151 
 
 Shoes, razed, 38 
 
 Shop districts, 73 
 
 Shop signs, 73, 189 
 
 Shoreditch, Duke of, 209 
 
 Signs over shops, 73 
 
 Smart's Key, 128 
 
 Smithfield, 218 
 
356 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Smithfleld, East, 147 
 Smith's Alley, 374 
 Snow HiU, 333 
 Somerset House, 344 
 Southwark, 360 
 Southwark Fair, 373 
 Starch, introduction of, 34 
 Steelyard, 136 
 Stews, 383 
 Stocks Market, 163 
 Stone Gate, 151 
 Stow, John, 175 
 Strand, the, 341 
 Street cries, 79 
 Street lighting, 55, 74 
 Streets, 70 
 Streets, abuse of, 77 
 Streets, filth in, 71 
 Streets, naming of, 73 
 Streets, noise of, 78 
 Suffolk House, 372 
 Surgery, condition of sci- 
 ence of, 109 
 Superstition, 4 
 Survey of London, 178 
 Swan Theatre, 311 
 
 Theatrical companies, 386, 
 
 389 
 Theatrical presentations, 313 
 Thomas, see Saint Thomas 
 Three Nuns Inn, 184 
 Thorny Island, 355 
 Tower of London, origin of, 
 
 47, 134 
 Tower of London, Traitors* 
 
 Gate, 136 
 Tower of London, approach 
 
 to, 137 
 Tower of London, Bloody 
 
 Tower, 138 
 Tower of London, uses of, 
 
 139 
 Tower of London, BeU 
 
 Tower, 142 
 Tower of London, Beau- 
 champ Tower, 143 
 Tower of London, dispute 
 
 over liberties, 143 
 Tower Hill, 144 
 Trained bands, 311 
 Traitors' Gate, 136, 263 
 Travel, foreign, 2 
 
 Tabard Inn, 269 
 
 Tavern life, 331 
 
 Taverns, condition of, 335 
 
 Taverns, list of, 334 
 
 Tavern tokens, 333 
 
 Taylor the Water Poet, 123 
 
 Temper of the time, 1 
 
 Temple Bar, 240 
 
 Theatre, the, 291 
 
 Walk, Paul's, 89 
 Wall, see London Wall 
 Wall, rebuilt by Alfred, 44 
 Wardrobe, 18, 108 
 Warwick House, 126 
 Water Poet, the, 133 
 Water Supply, 75, 156 
 Westminster, 355 
 Westminster Abbey, 357 
 
INDEX 
 
 351 
 
 259 
 
 Westminster Hall, 
 
 Whltechapel, 188 
 
 Whitefriar's, see Alsatia 
 
 Whitefriar's Inn, 290 
 
 WhitehaU, 352 
 
 White Hart Tavern, 268 
 
 White Lion, the, 271 
 
 Whittington, Richard, S3, 54 York House, 251 
 
 Wigs, 31 
 
 Winchester House, 282 
 
 Women's dre^s, 30 
 
 "Ye BRmoE House Rents,' 
 
 151 
 "Ye Swanne," 151 
 
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