London, Volume 1

Knight, Charles


Lambeth Palace.

Lambeth Palace.




A history of the origin of important edifices would make an amusing and far from uninstructive work. In the strange variety of human motives that such a history would exhibit it would be almost difficult to say whether the habitual satirizers, or the lovers of their species, would find most matter for gratification. Are we asked for illustrations? Why, look where you will, and they rise innumerable to the eye. Let us pause, for instance, moment upon the bridge immortalised by Wordsworth as the spot on which of the finest of his sonnets was composed, commencing-

Earth has not anything to show more fair,

and, glancing over the scene it commemorates, notice the history of some of the most prominent of the buildings which line the shores of the river. , there is the most magnificent of halls--that of ; rich beyond expression with the historical memories attached to it: yet what was the original purpose of Hall? It was built by William Rufus to dine in! Farther on there is , erected in a great measure from the plunder of some of the most ancient, and in every sense most sacred, edifices of the metropolis, such as the church of the ancient Knights of St. John of Jerusalem at Clerkenwell, and the cloisters and other portions of old , blown up with


gunpowder for the purpose. Still farther distant, on the opposite side of the Thames, is the church of St. Mary Overies, founded, as we have already stated, by a ferryman's daughter, from the earnings of the ferry. Lastly, there is the Monument, the

tall bully

of Pope, of which we may say, with reference to the inscription placed upon it ascribing the fire to the Papists, and with a slight alteration of the poet's words, it


its head


lie. The origin of

Lambeth Palace

, as stated by Matthew Paris, and in the words of his translator, Stow, is still more curious, and presents us with an extraordinary view of an eminent churchman of the



Boniface,saith Matthew Paris,

Archbishop of Canterbury, in his visitation came to this Priory [of St. Bartholomew, in Smithfield], where, being received with procession in the most solemn wise, he said that he passed not upon the honour, but came to visit them. To whom the canons answered, that they, having a learned bishop, ought not, in contempt of him, to be visited by any other. Which answer so much offended the Archbishop, that he forthwith fell on the Sub-Prior, and smote him on the face, saying, Indeed, indeed! doth it become you English traitors so to answer me? Thus raging, with oaths not to be recited, he rent in pieces the rich cope of the Sub-Prior, and trod it under his feet, and thrust him against a pillar of the chancel with such violence that he had almost killed him. But the canons, seeing their Sub-Prior thus almost slain, came and plucked off the Archbishop with such force that they overthrew him backwards, whereby they might see

he was armed and prepared to fight

. The Archbishop's men, seeing their master down, being all strangers, and their master's countrymen, born at Provence, fell upon the canons, beat them, tore them, and trod them under foot. At length the canons, getting away as well as they could, ran, bloody and miry, rent and torn, to the Bishop of London to complain; who bade them go to the King at


, and tell him thereof. Whereupon


of them went thither; the rest were not able, they were so sore hurt. But when they came to


the King would neither hear nor see them, so they returned without redress. In the mean season the whole city was in an uproar, and ready to have rung the common bell, and to have hewed the Archbishop into small pieces; who was secretly crept to


, where they sought him, and, not knowing him by sight, said to themselves, Where is that ruffian--that cruel smiter? He is no winner of souls, but an exacter of money, whom neither God nor any lawful or free election did bring to this promotion; but the King did unlawfully intrude him; being unlearned, a stranger born, and having a wife, &c. But the Archbishop conveyed himself over [to


], and went to the King with a great complaint against the canons, whereas himself was guilty.

[n.258.1]  So the Archbishop from boldly issued a sentence of excommunication against his opposers, satisfied that the King would support him in his violent tyranny. Another tribunal, however, was appealed to which had no particular prepossession for the Archbishop--the Pope; who commanded him by way of expiation to build a splendid mansion at for the occupants of the see, in the room of the humble manorhouse that is supposed to have existed previously. Such was the origin of the building erected at expressly as the archiepiscopal seat. Of the


history of the place prior to this period there are but few recorded facts. The positive evidence we have on the subject refers to the century, when the manor was possessed by Goda, wife to Walter Earl of Mantes, and subsequently to Eustace Earl of Boulogne; and who was also sister to Edward the Confessor.[n.259.1]  This Eustace was of the Normans who came over to visit Edward, and who on his return, when within a mile of Dover, caused all his people to march in armed array through the town, and when there by their insolence so to exasperate the people of Dover that an affray took place, which ended in the death of of Eustace's attendants, and in his own hasty flight back towards the King at Gloucester. This little incident produced important consequences. The great Saxon Earl Godwin (Harold's father) defended the people of Dover from the vengeance meditated by the King, but in so doing brought on himself a sentence of banishment. Released from Godwin's control, Edward invited the Normans to his court in greater numbers than ever, and among them came William Duke of Normandy, the future conqueror of England, who then, it is said, obtained a promise of the crown after Edward's death, and who, at all events, it appears, from that time determined upon its acquisition. By this Earl of Boulogne the manor of was bestowed on the see of Rochester; that nobleman reserving to himself the right of patronage to the church. After the Conquest William seized the manor and gave part of its lands to his brother Odo Bishop of Bayeux, but afterwards restored the whole to its former owners. In

Domesday Book

we find it referred to as the manor of St. Mary, or Lanchei; and the following particulars of its state at that time are there recorded:--

In demesne there are


carucates, and


villains, and


bordars, having


carucates. Here is a church, and


burgesses in London, who pay a rent of

thirty-six shillings

; and here are


servants and


acres of meadow, wood to feed



&c. During the reign of the Red King, some part of the revenues appear to have been appropriated to the maintenance of the monks of Rochester; in the charter of Gundolph, Bishop of that see, lampreys out of Lamhea ( of the old names for ) are assigned to their use; and his successor, Ernulph, ordained also that salmon should be furnished to the convent, caught no doubt in the silvery waters of the Thames at .

It was not until the reign of Richard I. that this manor of became the property and seat of the Archbishops of Canterbury; and the immediate cause of the change appears to have been, in some measure, the wish of the King to have the primate Baldwin near him. The latter consequently agreed with Glanville, Bishop of Rochester, in , to exchange for a part of his court at , on the Thames, the manor of Darent in Kent, with the church and chapel of Helles, and a sheep-walk, called Estmershe, in Clive or Cliff. years later, by another exchange, the entire manor became the property of the Archbishops, with the exception of a small piece of land, on which the Bishops of Rochester erected a mansion for their use whenever they attended Parliament.- It was not


till some time after this that became more than an occasional residence of the primates of England. The cause was as follows :

Hubert, the primate, jealous of the monks of Canterbury, and desirous to abridge their privileges, had determined to raise up against them a rival body, in the form of an establishment of canons regular, for whom he proceeded to erect a splendid edifice at , with the approbation of the King, Richard I. This plan had originated with Archbishop Baldwin, who had intended to have reared his establishment at Hackington, near Canterbury. But as the monks of the latter place had successfully opposed this the plan for their humiliation, so did they now bestir themselves to bring the to a similar conclusion. There was consideration in particular that appears to have strongly stimulated their zeal. The glory and the gain attached to the possession of the relics of St. Thomas a Becket were in danger; they had little doubt but that Hubert meant to remove them to the new establishment. They again appealed to the Pope, Innocent III., who warmly supported them, and directed a bull to the Archbishop, in , commanding him in a very imperious style to desist.

It is not fit,

said he,

that any man should have any authority who does not reverence and obey the apostolic see.

He then, in another bull, threatened the King for his contumacy in abetting Hubert; and, in a mandate, declared he would not endure the least contempt of himself, or of God, whose place he held upon earth.

We will take care,

he says,

so to punish both persons and lands without distinction that oppose our measures, as to show our determination to proceed prudently, and in a royal manner.

The of this style strikes rather more than its ; yet it achieved its object--the lion-hearted King and the rebellious Archbishop were both alarmed, and the rising edifice was at once destroyed. In disgust with this conclusion of the affair, the Archbishops thenceforward removed their chief residence from Canterbury to London. A more splendid house accordingly became desirable at ; and the brawl before referred to gave the Pope an admirable opportunity of imposing its erection on Boniface.

To enumerate merely in the driest manner all the important events that have taken place in would inconveniently occupy our space, and to no useful purpose. Church councils of the highest interest in the history of their respective periods have been frequently held here; many of the most eminent prelates have been consecrated, amidst all the splendours of the old church ceremonies, in the ancient chapel; Kings and Queens, we were almost about to say, have been ordinary guests, so frequent have been their visits: for instance, there are no less than of Elizabeth's to Whitgift recorded. We omit therefore, any particular notice of those incidents which have ceased to have a general interest, and may thus devote more attention to the remainder. of the most interesting of these connected with the early history of was the sitting of the council, in , with Archbishop Anselm as president, to consider the legality of the proposed marriage of King Henry I. with Matilda, the daughter of Malcolm King of Scotland; an important proposition, as being of the proofs of any value given by the Norman conquerors of their desire to amalgamate Saxons and Normans into an English people. The circumstances on which the council had to deliberate were as peculiar as they were interesting.


Maude, or Matilda, was a descendant of the great Alfred, and, as she grew up, became an object of considerable rivalry among the Norman captains of Rufus. After the death of the latter, and the accession of Henry to the throne, she found a still nobler suitor at her feet--the King sought her as his wife. To his astonishment, however, she exhibited the most decided aversion to the match. The Saxons then appealed to her:

Oh, most noble and fair among women, if thou wilt, thou canst restore the ancient honour of England, and be a pledge of reconciliation and friendship; but if thou art obstinate in thy refusal the enmity between the


races will be everlasting, and the shedding of human blood know no end.

She at last consented; and then the Normans interposed, who did not at all relish the idea of the equality between the races to which this match tended. They asserted that Maude was a nun, that she had worn the veil as the spouse of Christ, and therefore could now form no earthly alliance. Anselm, the kind and benevolent Archbishop, was much grieved to hear this, but at once declared that nothing could induce him to break so sacred a tie. He sent for her, however, possibly to , to question her personally, when she denied the truth of the rumour. Her explanation gives us a melancholy proof of the treatment to which even high-born Saxon ladies were exposed.

I must confess,

said she,

that I have sometimes appeared veiled; but listen to the cause. In my


youth, when I was living under her care, my aunt, to save me, as she said, from the lust of the Normans, who attacked all females, was accustomed to throw a piece of black stuff over my head, and when I refused to cover myself with it she treated me very roughly. In her presence I wore that covering, but as soon as she was out of sight I threw it on the ground, and trampled it under my feet in childish anger.

Anselm then summoned the council we have mentioned, before which Matilda repeated her statement to the full satisfaction of the ecclesiastical authorities. Henry and she were married, and, although he was a most unfaithful husband, not the less did she think it her duty to be

a right loving and obedient wife.

These qualities, added to her beautiful person, great charity, and her reputation as a lover of learning, confirmed the popularity which her Saxon blood had produced. Long after her death did the poor oppressed people speak with affectionate reverence of

Maude the Good.

As we shall find a more convenient opportunity to notice the other historical memories of , let us now, as Pennant says, take our

accustomed walk

along the fine promenade which skirts the palace gardens, overshadowed with trees of the noblest growth (pity that it is so short!), towards the fine architectural group presented by the Palace Gateway and .

Among the buildings enumerated in the steward's accounts of the palace, in the year of Edward II., we find the

great gate

mentioned, which then admitted friends and repelled foes, in accordance with the double duties imposed upon those characteristic old piles. The present gateway, which for size and height has perhaps no existing rival, was rebuilt about by Cardinal Morton. The groined roof is very fine, the different portions of which it is composed springing from pillars, in each corner. A low doorway on the right leads through the porter's lodge to a room the original purpose of which there is little difficulty in discovering: strong iron rings yet hang from the excessively thick walls, which have echoed with the sighs of hopeless prisoners, torn from their quiet


firesides, and the company of those dear to them by the ties of nature and of love, to expiate the crime of daring to think for themselves. The ordinary tradition respecting this place is that it was used for the confinement of the prisoners for
whom room could not be found in the prison of the Lollard's Tower. Another tradition refers to a name inscribed on the it is said perished here. In the tower are the Record-room, the name of which explains its purpose; and the rooms occupied by the Archbishop's secretary for the transaction of the archiepiscopal business of that vast and magnificent system, the Established Church of England. Before quitting the gateway we must notice the group of poor people waiting without, and which reminds us of a custom that has continued unbroken (except perhaps during the Commonwealth) for many centuries down to the present time, a custom that does not often see in London in these days-we refer to the dole of money, bread, and provisions, given times a week to poor parishioners of , different persons on each occasion, making in all who enjoy the Archbishop's bounty. The amount of such bounty in former times was really astonishing. Archbishop Winchelsey, in the reign of Edward I., gave, beside the daily fragments of his house,

every Friday and Sunday, unto every beggar that came to his door, a loaf of bread of a farthing price, which no doubt was bigger than our penny loaf now (Stow says it was sufficient for his sustenance for the day); and there were usually such almsmen in time of dearth to the number of

five thousand

, but in a plentiful year

four thousand

, and seldom or never under; which amounted unto

five hundred pounds

a-year. Over and above all this, he used to give, every great festivalday,

one hundred and fifty pence

to so many poor people--to send daily meat

drink, and bread unto such as by reason of age or sickness were not able to fetch alms at his gate-and to send money, meat, apparel, &c.,--to such as he thought wanted the same and were ashamed to beg. But of all other he was wont to take the greatest compassion upon those that by any misfortune were decayed, and had fallen from wealth to poor estate.

[n.263.1]  In Archbishop Parker's regulations for the officers of his household we meet with a pleasant, because kind and thoughtful, provision for the comfort of those depending in a great measure upon his bounty. He gave particular orders, not only that there should be no purloining of meat from the tables,

but that it be put into the alms-tub, and the tub to be kept sweet and clean before it be used from time to time.

Custom has also established another small claim upon the bounty of the occupier of the palace. When Archbishop Tenison possessed the see, a very near relation of his, who happened to be master of the Stationers' Company, thought it a compliment to call at the palace in his stately barge, during the annual aquatic procession of the Lord Mayor from London to ; and the Archbishop, in return, sent out a pint of wine for each liveryman, with new bread, old cheese, and plenty of strong ale, for the watermen and attendants. Next year the Stationers' barge was found again stopping at , and with a similar result; and from that time the thing has become a settled custom. The Company, in return for this hospitality, present to the Archbishop a copy of the several almanacs they publish.

Passing through the gateway, we find ourselves in the outer court, with a fine old wall covered with ivy on our left, dividing the palace demesnes from the Thames and the favourite promenade we have mentioned, known as the

Bishop's Walk


the Water Tower (attached to which, and beyond, is the Lollard's Tower) in front; and the great hall and the Manuscript-room on the right extending down to the gateway. Walking through a narrow pass around the base of the towers, we perceive, by the difference of the style, and the state in which they remain, that is older than the other. The Water Tower is of brick, the Lollard's of stone; the workmanship of the windows of the latter, too, appears in a great measure eaten away by time, although some portions of the ornaments of the beautiful niche that we perceive high up on its walls still seem sharp and exquisite as ever: but the statue of Thomas a Becket which formerly adorned it is utterly gone. The exterior of the great hall presents to us the characteristics of a not very noble style--the style of the days of Charles II. The buttresses, large enough in their real dimensions, are frittered away in effect by the fantastic appearance of their white stone facing; and the roof does not derive any powerful attractions from the round balls which surmount the frieze,--a poor substitute for the fretted pinnacles of a more artistical period. The windows, however, are numerous and very fine; they are in all probability the restorations of an earlier structure: of this subject more presently. From the centre of the roof rises a lantern, evidently also of Charles's time. The Manuscript-room has been built of late years, and rendered fire-proof for the better security of its valuable contents; among which may be mentioned the manuscript of

The Notable Wise Dictes and Sayings of Philosophers,

translated from the French by Anthony Woodville, Earl of Rivers, in the reign of Edward IV. It is written in a fair, regular


hand, and has prefixed a fine illumination of the Earl presenting Caxton the printer to the King, in the presence of the Queen, the Duke of York, and a brilliant court. The was published by Caxton, with a preface in which he mentions a curious liberty he had taken with it, and which is interesting from the covert humour of the great printer.

I find,

he writes,

that my said Lord hath left out certain and divers conclusions touching women; whereof I marvelled that my said Lord hath not writ on them, nor what hath moved him so to do, nor what cause he had at that time. But I suppose that some fair lady hath desired him to leave it out of his book; or else he was amorous on some noble lady, for whose love he would not set it in his book; or else, for the very affection, love, and good--will that he hath unto


ladies and gentlewomen, he thought that Socrates spared the sooth, and wrote of women more than truth; which I cannot think that so true a man and so noble a philosopher as Socrates was, should.

But I perceive that my said Lord knoweth verily that such defaults be not had nor found in the women born and dwelling in


parts nor regions of the world.

I wot well, of whatsoever condition women be in Greece, the women of this country be right good, wise, pleasant, humble, discreet, sober, chaste, obedient to their husbands, true, secret, steadfast, ever busy and never idle, temperate in speaking, and virtuous in all their works; -

or at least should be so


Accordingly, Caxton gathers up all the missing fragments, and publishes them together at the end of the book,--a process not likely to decrease their effect. Among the other treasures of this room are a finely blazoned missal which belonged to Archbishop Chicheley, an illuminated

Chronicle of St. Albans,

and a most splendid MS. on the

Apocalypse of St. John,

with illuminations, rich beyond description in gold and brilliant colours. A curiosity of another kind is also preserved here,--the shell of a tortoise, which was placed in the gardens of the palace by Laud in , and lived there till , when it was killed by the negligence of the gardener. Beneath the Manuscript-room is a gateway leading from the outer to the inner court, where we find, on the left, ranges of buildings extending round sides of the square, and a lofty wall enclosing the remainder, over which, in front, appear the stables, and in the corner on the right the tower of the church. Following with our eye the course of the buildings we have mentioned, we perceive, , the back or less ornamented side of the great hall, with a low but elegant modern porch leading into it, on the west, or the side parallel with the Thames; then the Guard-room beyond, with its curious but beautiful gable window; and lastly, the very splendid new buildings erected by Mr. Blore within the last few years, including the principal palace front, on the south. On a little green in the centre of the court is a kind of ornamental cross, supporting lamps; and here and there round the area the walls are overhung by lofty trees.

We may add to this general view of the appearance of the principal court or quadrangle, that between the buttresses on this side of the great hall are growing some small shoots of the fig-tree; these are all the remains of the trees planted by Cardinal Pole in the gardens of the palace, and of which, when cut down about years ago, overspread the whole of the east end of the buildings then standing where the new buildings stand now. The trees were of the white Marseilles sort, and bore the most delicious fruit. It would be difficult to praise


too highly the pure taste which reigns throughout these erections by Mr. Blore. To have built them in entire accordance with the remains of the old pile would have been impossible, for the very sufficient reason, that those remains, being erected at very different times, present very different styles. Yet an air of fine harmony pervades the entire palace, the best proof of the skill that has presided over the recent erections. The front, before which we are now standing, is irregular, embattled, with turret towers in the centre, mullioned windows on the left, and a fine oriel window on the right. The entrance-hall is a model of exquisite beauty. It is of great height and noble proportions. At the top of the staircase, with its elaborately worked open balustrade, which ascends directly from the door, in the centre, a screen of arches admits into the corridor running away to the right and the left. Above the screen is a gallery,--its floor formed by the roof of the corridor,--overlooking the whole. The exquisitely panelled walls on the ground round the staircase must not be overlooked. On the right the corridor leads to the principal private apartments of the new buildings; on the left, to the more ancient remains of the old. We shall, however, find it convenient to visit the latter by a different route. We recross the square therefore to the great hall.


It is very probable that the foundation-walls of this magnificent room were built by Boniface, for since his time we find no notice of its erection as an entirely new structure. It was repaired or refounded by Chicheley, and in the years - the roof was covered with shingles by Archbishop Parker. During the Commonwealth was granted to Scot and Hardyng, of the judges who sat on Charles's trial, and who, it is said, pulled down the noble hall, and sold the materials. On the Restoration Archbishop Juxon rebuilt it, as nearly as possible on the ancient model, and we have no doubt partly on the original walls.


It cost him in all , and was not finished at his death; but so anxious was he in the matter, that he left the following direction in his will:--,

If I happen to die before the hall at


be finished, my executors to be at the charge of finishing it according to the model made of it, if my successor shall give leave.

On entering the hall, the object that catches the eye is the lofty and beautiful painted window immediately opposite, full of interesting memorials collected from different parts of the old palace buildings that have been destroyed; in particular, a-portrait of Chicheley, who, as we have said, repaired the hall, and erected a part of the palace which does less honour to his name--the Lollard's Tower. Juxon's arms here form a conspicuous object; and those of Philip of Spain, the husband of Mary, as a Knight of the Garter, are very brilliant and splendid: they are supposed to have been painted by order of Cardinal Pole, as a compliment to his royal mistress. From the window the eye roams along the great space comprised within those lofty walls, and then upwards to the roof, which is a most extraordinarily elaborate work, in some respects like the roof of the great hall of Eltham Palace; only that, in the latter, the series of broad semicircular arches, which more particularly characterize the pendant timber frame-work of , are wanting. The lantern skylight is also peculiar to the latter. Oak, chestnut, and other woods, constitute the materials of the roof, which is covered with beautiful carvings, the effect of which, however, is lost from the great height. The dimensions of the hall are, in length about feet, breadth feet, and height above . We need not, however, wonder at the size of this or similar halls, when we consider the magnificence of the feasts given in them, --the unbounded hospitality which rendered such vast places necessary. Let us look, for instance, at the list of the officers of Cranmer's household. It comprised a steward, treasurer, comptroller, gamators, clerk of the kitchen, caterer, clerk of the spicery, yeoman of the ewry, bakers, pantlers, yeomen of the horse, yeomen ushers, butlers of wine and ale, larderers, squilleries, ushers of the hall, porter, ushers of the chamber, daily waiters in the great chamber, gentlemen ushers, yeomen of the chamber, carver, sewer, cup-bearer, groom of the chamber, marshal, groomushers, almoner, cooks, chandler, butchers, master of the horse, yeoman of the wardrobe, and harbingers. The state observed of course corresponded with such a retinue. There were generally tables spread in the hall, and served at the same time, at the of which sat the Archbishop, surrounded by peers of the realm, privy councillors, and gentlemen of the greatest quality; at the , called the Almoner's table, sat the chaplains and all the other clerical guests below the rank of diocesan bishops and abbots; and at the , or Steward's table, sat all the other gentlemen invited. The suffragan bishops by this arrangement sat at the , or Almoner's table; and it was noted as an especial aggravation of the ingratitude of Richard Thornden to Cranmer in conspiring against him, that the Archbishop had invited Thornden, his suffragan, to his own table. Shortly after the thorough establishment of the Church of England these suffragan, or rather assistant, bishops, were discontinued. Cardinal Pole had a patent from Philip and Mary to retain servants, so that we may judge that, in his hands, the magnificence and hospitality of had not degenerated. With an interesting passage descriptive of the order observed in dining here in Archbishop Parker's time, in the reign of Elizabeth,


we dismiss this part of our subject.

In the daily eating this was the custom: the steward, with the servants that were gentlemen of the better rank, sat down at the tables in the hall on the right hand; and the almoner, with the clergy and the other servants, sat on the other side, where there was plenty of all sorts of provision, both for eating and drinking. The daily fragments thereof did suffice to fill the bellies of a great number of poor hungry people that waited at the gate; and so constant and unfailing was this provision at my Lord's table, that whosoever came in either at dinner or supper, being not above the degree of a knight, might here be entertained worthy of his quality, either at the steward's or almoner's table. And moreover, it was the Archbishop's command to his servants, that all strangers should be received and treated with all manner of civility and respect, and that places at the table should be assigned them according to their dignity and quality, which redounded much to the praise and commendation of the Archbishop. The discourse and conversation at meals was void of all brawls and loud talking, and for the most part consisted in framing men's manners to religion, or to some other honest and beseeming subject. There was a monitor of the hall; and if it happened that any spoke too loud, or concerning things less decent, it was presently hushed by


that cried Silence. The Archbishop loved hospitality, and no man showed it so much, or with better order, though he himself was very abstemious.

The hall now affords food and hospitality of another kind: it is used as the library of the palace. Along the walls on each side are projecting bookcases, containing some or volumes, valuable chiefly for their works on controversial divinity, though not deficient of those belonging to general literature. Persons properly introduced are allowed to borrow from these extensive stores--a circumstance too honourable to the liberality of their owner to be overlooked. The history of this library is somewhat curious. It was formed by Archbishop Bancroft, who, dying in , left

unto his successors the Archbishops of Canterbury for ever a great and famous library of books of divinity, and of many other sorts of learning.

Security was to be given for its preservation to the see, by his successors, in failure of which the whole was to be given to College, if erected within the next years after his death (which it was not), and otherwise to the University of Cambridge. On the execution of Laud, in , Selden, fearing for the preservation of the books in such troubled times (already they were in process of dispersion, having been granted for the use of Dr. Wincocke, then given to Sion College, and many lent to private individuals), wisely suggested to the University to claim them, which it did with success in . On the Restoration, Juxon demanded their return; but it was not until the time of his successor, Sheldon, who repeated the demand, that it was acceded to. An ordinance of parliament had then also to be obtained, to enforce the restoration of the books in private hands; among others, in the hands of John Thurloe and Hugh Peters. Bancroft's original gift was increased by donations, bequests, or purchases of the books of Abbot, Laud, Sheldon, Tenison, Seeker, and Cornwallis, which are respectively known by their arms on the covers.

Between the little porch and the great hall is a kind of vestibule, with a staircase leading to the gallery and Guard-room. The gallery is modern, elegant,


and admirably lighted by square lanterns in the ceiling, occurring at intervals along its course. The pictures are chiefly portraits of bishops, including those of Warren, by Gainsborough (unfinished) ;Burnet; Hough and Loyd, both of whom opposed themselves to the despotic acts of James II.; and Hoadly. The gallery also contains a portrait of the accomplished son of James I., Prince Henry, whose premature death so much excited the sensibilities of the English nation; another, of Catherine Parr, most richly painted and gilded; and a picture, of the most interesting in the collection, of Luther and his wife, supposed to be the work of Holbein. He has arm round her neck, and with the hand of the other he holds of her hands. The expression of the faces is very fine, and the whole so beautifully painted as to leave little doubt but that it is attributed to the proper artist. At all events, we learn that it has always been treasured at the palace as a most valuable work. From the gallery a door leads us into of the most interesting parts of the palace, the Guard-room, which is also of the most beautiful chambers we have ever had the good fortune to see. Our readers may in some measure judge for themselves whether the room here shown does not deserve the utmost praise that can be bestowed on it.
It is very old, for we find it mentioned in the steward's accounts of the time of Henry VI.; and it was a restoration of a former Guard-room. The arms kept here passed, by purchase, from Archbishop to another. When our readers have gazed sufficiently long upon the fine proportions and most beautiful roof of this room, we would call their attention to the line of portraits extending round the walls, comprising an unbroken series of the Archbishops, from the time of Warham to that of Sutton, the present Archbishop's predecessor, with portraits of or others of a still earlier date. What a host of associations rise to the mind as we look upon these suggestive memorials! There are few of our greatest historical events in which some or other of these men have not had an important share. Indeed, a very agreeable-and not remarkably incomplete-History of England would be composed by who, walking round this room, should pour forth from


the stores of an abundant knowledge all the thoughts and memories that the sight of these silent but most expressive portraits naturally produce. Our notices must be of a less ambitious character.

Among the Archbishops whose portraits are wanting in this valuable collection, there are some who must not be passed without notice. The famous Cardinal Langton, for instance, who extensively repaired the palace; and Sudbury, who was beheaded during the insurrection of Wat Tyler, under such peculiarly cruel circumstances, in the Tower: days before the insurgents had burned the furniture and all the records and books in the palace. of the many interesting memories of the place is referred to the time of Archbishop Sudbury, when the most illustrious of our early Reformers, Wickliffe, himself appeared to defend his tenets within the precincts of . The following account is from his biographer, Lewis, whose authority was Walsingham. It must be premised that Wickliffe had previously been cited to , whither he went attended by the all-powerful John of Gaunt, his protector, of course to the very great dissatisfaction of the ecclesiastical authorities, among whom were some delegates from the Pope expressly commissioned to inquire into the matter. A new, and what was intended should be a more private council, was therefore held in the Archbishop's Chapel at , before which Wickliffe appeared;

when not only the London citizens, but the mob, presumed to force themselves into the chapel, and to speak in Dr. Wickliffe's behalf, to the great terror of the delegates; and that the Queen's mother sent Sir Lewis Clifford to them to forbid them to proceed to any definitive sentence :

with which message the delegates are said to have been much confounded.

As the reed of a wind shaken,

says the historian on whose authority this statement rests-Walsingham (Hist. Angliae)-

their speech became as soft as oil, to the public loss of their own dignity, and the damage of the whole church. They were struck with such a dread that you would think them to be as a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth are no reproofs.

On this occasion Wickliffe delivered in writing an elaborate statement of his views, but which was so little satisfactory to the delegates that they commanded him to repeat no more such propositions either in the schools or his sermons. We shall, however, soon find the obnoxious


coming in a more multitudinous voice, and attacked by more terrible weapons than verbal condemnation. The earliest portrait the gallery contains is that of Arundel, whose brother was beheaded at the time he was himself banished by Richard II.

The tonsure of his hair,

as an ecclesiastic, says Fuller, was alone the cause of

the keeping of his head.

He returned with Bolingbroke, whom he crowned in . Archbishop Arundel has the bad reputation of being the head of the church in England who brought in the argument of the fiery stake to aid the church in its endeavours to convince


of their heresy. The victim was William Sawtre, priest of St. Osyth's, London; who, after a preliminary examination, having been adjudged to be a relapsed heretic, was delivered over to the secular power, in accordance with the provision of the famous law passed against such persons in the year of Henry IV.'s reign.

The primate, Arundel, and


other bishops, assembled in the Cathedral of

St. Paul's

, arrayed in their pontifical robes, to perform the impressive preliminary ceremonial. Their victim was brought before them in his priestly attire, with the chalice for

holding the host, and its paten or lid in his hands. As the Archbishop solemnly pronounced his degradation from the priestly order, he took from him these sacred insignia, and at the same time stripped him of his casule, or distinctive rule of the priesthood, made in imitation of the scarlet robe of mockery of the Saviour. His degradation from the office of deacon was in like manner effected by putting the New Testament in his hands, and then taking it from him, and depriving him of the stole or tippet worn about the neck in memory of the cord with which Christ was bound. He was next divested of the alb or surplice, and also of the maniple (otherwise called the fanon or fannel), a kind of scarf worn on the left wrist, to denote his degradation from the order of sub-deaconship: after that he surrendered, as acolyte, the candlestick, taper, and small pitcher called arceole; as exorcist, the book of exorcisms; as reader, the lexionary or book of daily lessons; and as sexton, the surplice of that office and key of the church-door. Finally, his priest's cap was removed from his head, the tonsure obliterated, and the cap of a layman put upon him. When he had thus been wholly divested of his clerical character, he was delivered over to the custody of the High Constable and Marshal of England, who were present to receive him, the primate finishing his task by pronouncing the formal recommendation to mercy, with which the church was accustomed to veil, but only with a deeper horror, its deeds of blood. Sawtre was burned in Smithfield in the beginning of

March, 1401

, a vast multitude of people crowding to witness, with various, doubtless, but all with strong emotions, a spectacle then new in England.

[n.270.1]  These men were

wise in their generation ;

all this ceremony, senseless as it now appears to us, was undoubtedly calculated to deepen the impression made by the execution, which for a time appeared to have accomplished all the objects hoped from it. We have, however, only to look upon this neighbouring portrait of Arundel's successor, Chicheley, who is represented standing within a rich Gothic niche, to remember that within the next years it was found necessary to build new prisons, and to substitute prolonged imprisonment, whipping, and various other punishments, instead of the penalty of death, so numerous by that time were the heretics sentenced by the ecclesiastical courts. Then it was that the famous, or infamous, Lollard's Tower was built by Chicheley. Of the next Archbishops, Stafford, Kemp, Bourchier, Morton, and Deane, there are no portraits, nor are there any circumstances connected with them requiring notice,. except in the instance of Bourchier. During the period he held the see, Reginald Peacock, the learned, able, and moderate Bishop of Chichester, was summoned to to answer to the truth of various false opinions attributed to him. Peacock was no Lollard; why then was he attacked? Simply because he wished the church to tolerate a latitude of opinion upon points that had been often acknowledged, even by the church, to be obscure, and in some respects incomprehensible. But this was sufficient to draw down upon his head the hatred and jealousy of the Establishment. On the day on which he was cited he appeared at , before learned doctors, with his books, who were to report the result to auditors-William Waynfleet Bishop of Winchester, Chedworth Bishop of Lincoln, and Lowe of Rochester. He was convicted of heresy, and would have been burnt but for his abjuration of the opinions he had promulgated, which also took place


at , . He was then sent to Canterbury, by way of penance, prior to the more public ceremonial that was to take place at Paul's Cross. There he read his abjuration before the Archbishop and others of the clergy, and thousands of spectators, delivering at the same time of his books to an attendant, who threw them into a fire lighted for the purpose. After all this, the unhappy man was left to die in prison. The finest picture in the whole collection is that of Warham, the prelate next in succession to Morton. It was painted by Holbein, and presented by him to Warham, with the addition of a portrait of Holbein's friend Erasmus. The most remarkable circumstance connected with the palace in this Archbishop's time is the confinement of Latimer in it, most probably for a very brief period, as the fact is mentioned without further particulars. The next portrait in point of time is that of the great Oxford martyr, Cranmer, who, on the , declared within these walls to the public the marriage of Anne Bullen and the King, and then confirmed it with his judicial and pastoral authority; and who, on the of the same month years later, having

God alone before his eyes,

pronounced in the same place that the marriage of Anne Bullen was, and always had been, utterly null and void, in consequence of certain just and lawful impediments which it was said were unknown at the time of the union, but had lately been confessed to him by the lady herself. days after poor Anne Bullen went to the scaffold; and on the day, her successor, Jane Seymour, to the royal bed.

In the interval between the confirmation and the annulling of this marriage, occurred another interesting, but not, we should presume, very satisfactory event, to Cranmer, who could not but be doubtful of the righteousness of the course he was pursuing. On the , Sir Thomas More and the venerable Bishop Fisher were sent for from the Tower to attend the commissioners then sitting at , to administer the oath of succession (which excluded the Princess Mary, the daughter of Queen Catherine, in favour of the heirs of Queen Anne Bullen) to the clergy and others of London who had not already sworn. Neither of these eminent men, it appears, objected so much to the ostensible object of the oath as to the doctrinal points involved in it, and Cranmer had endeavoured to save them by seeking Permission to omit the latter. But he failed; and it is highly probable that Cranmer now sent for them in order to try once more to induce them to save themselves by subscribing to the oath in its original state. Both again refused. The following little incident is recorded of Sir Thomas More on this occasion. A certain doctor of Croydon, who had made some difficulty before to the oath, now went up with the rest to be sworn. As he passed More, the latter, turning to Fisher, said, with a satirical smile,

He went to my Lord's buttery-hatch as he passed, and called for drink, and drank very familiarly, whether it were for gladness, or dryness, or that he was known to the Pontiff;

a remark happily expressive of the doctor's forced endeavours to carry off, with an unconcerned air, what he was doing, and was ashamed of. In the archbishops and bishops held various meetings here to devise the composition of what has been styled the

Bishops' Book;

but they were obliged to separate on account of the plague then raging at , and which was so virulent that persons were dying at the palace gates. A circumstance that shows how sincerely Cranmer participated in the Reformation, although compelled by circumstances and his own


weakness frequently to appear almost in the light of an opponent, is the residence of the eminent French Reformer, Bucer, at , who had been invited from his native country by Cranmer. Another guest of the Archbishop's, the Earl Cassilis, came under different auspices. He was taken prisoner in the defeat of the, Scottish army at Solway Moss, in , which was attended by such disgraceful circumstances that it broke their King's (James) heart. On reaching London Cassilis was sent to on his parole, where Cranmer busied himself with endeavours to turn him from the errors of Popery. The Archbishop succeeded, and it is stated by Bishop Burnet that he was afterwards a great promoter of the Reformation in Scotland. It would have been as well if Cranmer had made Cassilis an honest man as well as a Protestant. Among all those traitors to their native land who, bribed by English gold, were for years endeavouring to place the crown of Scotland upon the head of Henry VIII., Cassilis appears to have played the most conspicuous part. The next portrait that meets our eye reminds us that the religion of the country had again shifted. Cranmer's successor was Cardinal Pole, the man who had made Europe ring again with the murder of Sir Thomas More; who did not, however, return to England till some time after the great Protestant Archbishop had perished with his glorious companions at Oxford. He arrived in , and, having presented himself at court, went in his barge to ; where soon after he summoned the bishops and inferior clergy then assembled in convocation in London to come to him and be absolved from all their perjuries, heresies, and schisms. is said to have been completely furnished by Mary, at her own expense, for the reception of the Cardinal; and she still further honoured him by frequent visits. It is curious enough that they should both have died on day. The portrait of Pole, though only a copy of in the Barberini Palace, has great spirit and beauty. It represents him in the splendid dress usually worn by Cardinals. Fuller tells an interesting story of Pole's election to the Popedom:--

After the death of Paul III. he was, at midnight, in the Conclave, chosen to succeed him. Pole refused it, because he would not have his choice a deed of darkness, appearing therein not perfectly Italianized, in not taking preferment when tendered, and the Cardinals beheld his refusal as a deed of dulness. Next day, expecting a re-election, he found new mornings new minds; and Pole being reprobated, Julius III., his professed enemy, was chosen in his place.

Next to him we have another Protestant bishop, Parker,--

a parker indeed,

exclaims the quaint writer from whom we have just been transcribing,

careful to keep the fences and shut the gates of discipline against all such night stealers as would invade the same,

--whose portrait was, most probably, the work of Richard Lyne, an artist of great merit, whom the prelate retained in his establishment. engravers were also kept constantly employed by him, besides a number of the most learned and eminent men of his time, who were engaged in transcribing, collecting, and publishing some of the old historians,--as Matthew Paris, Asser, Walsingham, &c. The bible known as Parker's or the Bishop's Bible was translated under his auspices. He appears for some time to have been as great a favourite with Elizabeth as his predecessor had been with her sister. On his promotion to the see she committed to his charge the deprived Roman Catholic Bishops, Tonstal and Thirlby, whom Parker treated in a manner that


must ever redound to his honour. He could appreciate their conscientious adherence to the old religion, when it came, as in their cases, in a mild and tolerant form, and was based upon extensive learning. Tonstal lived but about months, and then was buried in the adjoining church, where among other interesting memorials are some of different Archbishops of the see interred therein. Thirlby was the prelate's guest for years; during all this time being treated with the greatest respect and attention. A contemporary writer, speaking of Tonstal, Thirlby, and Dr. Boxal, late secretary to Queen Mary, who was also a prisoner here, says,

All these had lodgings to themselves, with chambers for


men, and diet for them all in those lodgings; save only when they were called to the Archbishop's own table (when he dined, as the speech went abroad, out of his own private lodging


days weekly, and then persons of the degree of knights and upwards came to him); fuel for their fire, and candle for their chambers; without any allowance for all this, either from the Queen or from themselves; saving, at their death, he had from them some part of their libraries that they had there. Often had he others committed or commanded unto him from the Queen or Privy Council, to be entertained by him at his charge, as well of other nations, as home subjects; namely, the L . . . as a prisoner, and after, the L. H. Howard, brother to the Duke of Norfolk. Those ever sat (but when they were with the Archbishop himself) at the steward's table, who had provision of diet answerable to their calling, and they had also fuel to their chambers.

The body of Bishop Thirlby was accidentally discovered a few years ago, in opening a grave for the interment of Archbishop Cornwallis. It was wrapped in fine linen, moist, and had evidently been preserved in some species of pickle, which still retained its volatile smell, not unlike that of hartshorn; the face was perfect, the limbs flexible, the beard very long and beautifully white; the linen and woollen garments were all well preserved. Elizabeth was a frequent visitor of Parker, though there was circumstance which must have always prevented the Archbishop from taking any pleasure in this mark of his royal mistress's favour. He was married, and Elizabeth disliked all such ties in connection with the clergy. So strong, indeed, was her feeling on this point, that she appears never to have recognised the Archbishop's lady as his lawful spouse. Although from the

the Archbishop dissembled not his marriage,

yet neither would Queen Elizabeth

dissemble her dislike of it. For whereas it pleased her often to come to his house in respect of her favour to him (that had been her mother's chaplain), being once above the rest greatly feasted, at her parting from thence, the Archbishop and his wife being together, she gave him very special thanks, with gracious and honourable terms; and then looking on his wife,

And you,

saith she,

madam I may not call you, and mistress I am ashamed to call you, so I know not what to call you, but yet I do thank you.


Grindall, who succeeded Parker, was less fortunate than the latter, because more tolerant, in his intimacy with the Queen. Persecution had taught him great truths. In the reign of Mary, long before he occupied the see, he had been compelled to exile himself from England, with Coverdale, Fox the martyrologist, and the great Scottish reformer Knox. Soon after his elevation by


Elizabeth he ventured to recommend that milder measures should be used toward the Puritans; the consequence was his own suspension from the duties of his office till the last year of his life. Whitgift, the next Archbishop, was more obsequious and more intolerant; accordingly he had the honour of almost innumerable visits from the Virgin Queen, who stayed sometimes or days together. James I. showed him equal favour; his last visit took place on the , when the prelate was dying. The King appears to have been greatly moved at the scene. He told the Archbishop he would pray to God for his life, and that if he could obtain it he should think it of the greatest temporal blessings that could be given him. The Archbishop would have said something in reply, but his speech failed him; and though he made or attempts to write his thoughts, he could not,--the pen falling from his hand through the power of the disease that had seized him, which was paralysis. It is said that Whitgift's death was accelerated by his mortification at James's wholesale interference in the affairs of the church; mingled, perhaps, with considerations of a more personal nature. Whitgift, assisted by certain deputies of the University of Cambridge, had drawn up at , in , certain articles, denominated the


Articles of



of a high Calvinistic tone, which were sent down privately to the University, with a direction from the Archbishop to use them with discretion, as Elizabeth, then on the throne, would not have given her sanction to anything of the kind. On the of the month preceding that in which Whitgift died, her successor, James, held his famous Conference at , when it was proposed to add the Articles to the general established articles of religion. But James, who then for the time heard of them, immediately declared against needlessly extending the-book with such superfluous matter. Scarcely was the breath out of the Archbishop's body when Bancroft, the next possessor of the see, began to infuse his violent spirit into the affairs of the church. ministers were silenced or deprived in his primacy of years. His death, and the elevation of Abbot to the vacant see, greatly improved the position of the Puritans, and they accordingly have treated the memory of the latter with much respect.

He was a man,

says Clarendon,

of very morose manners and a very sour aspect, which in that time was called gravity.

Hatred to Laud formed, it is said, no inconsiderable part of his motives to lenity towards the Nonconformist Puritans. During his time the commissioners for the trial of ecclesiastical causes sat frequently at ; and he complains bitterly of the cost it put him to.

I think it may be justified by my officers on oath that since I was Archbishop this thing alone has cost me out of my private estate

one thousand pound

and a half, and if I did say

two thousand

it were not much amiss, besides all my trouble of my servants, who neither directly nor indirectly gained

five pounds

by it in a whole year, but only travel and pains for their master's honour, and of that they had enough, my home being like a hostelry every Thursday in the term; and for my expenses no man giving so much as thanks.

[n.274.1]  His portrait here is a fine picture, of great expression and brilliant colouring, bearing the date . As James, toward the latter part of his reign, found himself, in spite of his (supposed) predilections


for Calvinism, driven by political considerations to discourage that mode of faith, Abbot, the Calvinistic Archbishop, grew out of favour, and was ultimately disgraced and suspended, whilst his rivals and enemies-Laud, Neile, and others were honoured and promoted at every opportunity. He stood, however, in the way of the former to the Archbishopric for many years. He died on the . Laud writes in his Diary,

That very morning there came


to me, seriously, and that carried ability to perform it, and offered me to be a cardinal. I went presently to the King (Charles I.), and acquainted him both with the thing and the person.

He determined, however, to be content with the primacy of England, to which he was appointed on the of the following month. This is the most important and in every way interesting period in the history of ; and it becomes still more interesting from the circumstance that from the Diary before mentioned we can, without quitting our text, the palace, illustrate his momentous history in his own words:--



Sep. 19



was translated to the Archbishopric of Canterbury. The Lord make me able, &c. The day before, viz.

Sep. 18

, when I


went to


, my coach, horses, and men sunk to the bottom of the Thames in the ferry-boat, which was overladen; but, I praise God for it, I lost neither man nor horse.


. Thursday.-I married James Duke of Lennox to the Lady Mary Villiers, the daughter of the Lord Duke of Buckingham: the marriage was in my chapel at


; the day very rainy; the King present.



May 9

.-A paper posted upon the Old Exchange, animating 'prentices to sack my house upon the Monday following.

May 11

. Monday night.-At midnight my house was beset with


of these rascal routers. I had notice, and strengthened the house as well as I could; and, God be thanked, I had no harm: they continued there full


hours. Since I have fortified my house as well as I can, and hope all may be safe.

May 26

. Thursday.-


of the chief, being taken, was condemned at


, and


and quartered on Saturday morning following.

Such a riot was in itself a serious offence, and the leaders of it subjected themselves to punishment, though no harm was done beyond threatening and hard words. But it is atrocious to see the cold-blooded manner in which the head of a Christian Church and the model historian of the royalists can speak of the hanging and quartering of the offender. Clarendon says that the man was a sailor; but neither he nor the Archbishop relates the worst part of the story. Miss Aikin, in her interesting Memoirs of the Court of King Charles, makes up for this deficiency, and corrects some of their mistakes or wilful misrepresentations. She says, This person, named John Archer, was a drummer in the north; but, having obtained leave of absence immediately after the dissolution of parliament, he joined in the attack on Lambeth Palace, and was taken into custody. Being rescued from prison by his comrades, he was subsequently proclaimed as a traitor. The captain of his troop in the north, seeing the description of his person in the proclamation, wrote to the council to inform them where he was to be found. Upon this the poor drummer was arrested and paraded through the city by a troop of train-bands to the Tower. On the Friday following, says a contemporary, this fellow was racked in the Tower to make him confess his companions. I do fear he is a very simple fellow, and knows little or nothing, neither doth he confess anything save against himself. But it is said there will be mercy showed to save his life; but this is more than I am yet certain of. The King's serjeants, Heath and Whitfield, took his examination on the rack last Friday. It will be recollected that, in the case of Felton, the judges had solemnly decided against the use of torture, as always, and in all circumstances, contrary to the law of England. Its subsequent employment in this case was therefore an enormity destitute of all excuse, and it can scarcely be doubted that it was perpetrated by the direction of Laud himself. In all probability the execution of the wretched victim preserved the atrocious secret in few hands, or it would surely have attracted the notice of the Long Parliament. The circumstance is mentioned by no historian, but the warrant for applying the torture still exists in the State Paper Office. It has been printed by Mr. Jardine in his interesting tract on the Use of Torture in England.--Pictorial England, b. vii. p. 219.

Oct. 27

. Tuesday.-Simon and Jude's Eve.-I went into my upper study to see some

manuscripts which I was sending to Oxford. In that study hung my picture taken by the life; and coming in, I found it fallen down upon the face, and lying on the floor, the string being broken by which it was hanged against the wall. I am almost every day threatened with my ruin in parliament. God grant this be no omen!

. Friday.-I was accused by the for high treason, without any particular charge laid against me; which they said should be prepared in convenient time. I was presently committed to the gentleman usher; but was permitted to go in his company to my house at , for a book or to read in, and such papers as pertained to my defence against the Scots. I stayed at till the evening to avoid the gaze of the people. I went to evening prayer in my chapel. The Psalms of the day (Ps. xciii. and xciv.) and chap. . of Isaiah gave me great comfort. God make me worthy of it, and fit to receive it! As I went to my barge, hundreds of my poor neighbours stood there, and prayed for my safety and return to my house. For which I bless God and them.



Aug. 19

.-A party of soldiers [went to


] to search for arms, and, under that pretence, broke open doors and committed other outrages.

Nov. 24

.-The soldiers broke open the chapel-door, and offered violence to the organ, but were prevented by their captain.



May 1

.-The chapel windows were defaced, and the steps torn up.

Lastly. .-All the Archbishop's goods and books were seized on, and even the very Diary, from which the preceding extracts have been transcribed, taken by force out of his pocket.

We need not follow his history further, as it so soon ended on the scaffold, whither his royal master was speedily to follow him. His portrait is by Vandyck; we need hardly therefore say that it is a very fine . Close to this picture is the portrait of Juxon, the prelate who attended Charles in his last moments, and received that mysterious communication conveyed in the word


which has so puzzled historians to understand. No unusual space exists between the portraits; would think, from merely looking at them; that no interruption had taken place. Yet what a momentous period had passed when Juxon received the appointment to the primacy in -a period more thronged with great men and great events than any period of similar extent, whether in our own or in any other country! It was not probable that the men in power during that time should have much respect for , the late residence of him whose memory was linked in their minds with the atrocities of the Star Chamber. We have seen in Laud's Diary that it was occupied and defaced by troops; who, however, after all, did no very serious injury. By the Commonwealth was ordered to be used as a prison; and among the prisoners confined there were the Earls of Chesterfield and Derby; Sir Thomas Armstrong, afterwards executed for his participation in the Duke of Monmouth's rebellion; Dr. Allestry, an eminent divine; and Richard Lovelace, the poet. Sir George Bunkley, also, it is supposed, died here in confinement: his name is on the parish register. He was of the party who so distinguished themselves in the defence of Basing House. was put up to sale in , and purchased with the manor for Os. by Colonel Thomas Scot and Matthew Hardyng. The former was Cromwell's secretary of state, and had sat on the trial of Charles I., for which he was executed, after the Restoration, at , in . During the period


was thus occupied, the great hall was nearly destroyed, and the chapel used in its room. To restore the palace to its former splendour was the great object of Archbishop Juxon, on his appointment to the see at the Restoration; and although he lived scarcely years afterwards, he had the satisfaction of seeing his wishes very nearly accomplished. In all, he expended nearly in this way. The remainder of the portraits which enrich the Guardroom are those of Sheldon; Sancroft, who was of the prelates committed by James II. to the Tower; Tillotson, of whom a very characteristic circumstance is related-his study was over the old hall-door, from which he had peep-holes into the hall, court, &c., so that he could see every who passed in or out of the palace; Tenison, who had the honour of a visit from Peter the Great, to witness the ceremonies attending an ordination; Wake; Potter; Herring, whose portrait is by Hogarth: Hutton, by Hudson; Secker, by Reynolds; Cornwallis, by Dance, in whose time the palace had nearly been destroyed by a

No Popery

riot; Moore; and Sutton.

From the Guard-room there is a passage through some private apartments down to the vestry, in which is preserved a very splendid old chest, covered inside and out with figures and landscapes in relief, wonderfully elaborate. It is evidently a foreign work, said to be Chinese. From the vestry we pass into the chapel.

This is probably of Boniface's original erection; for the walls and windows are evidently very ancient, though partially deprived of their character by the modern roof, and painted screen, and furniture. The dimensions of the chapel are feet in length, in breadth, and in height. The western window, like the eastern in its original state, which is shown in the accompanying view, consists of lights set between deep and massive masonry. The screen, which is very elaborate, was, with the other internal decorations, added by Laud. It is a strange circumstance that all this beautiful timber-work of should be painted. Before the civil war there was very fine painted glass in the windows of


the chapel, representing the whole history of man from the Creation to the Day of Judgment. The windows being divided into parts, those on the side contained the types in the Old Testament, and the middle portion the anti-type and verity in the New. Laud, on coming to , found the windows

shameful to look on, all diversly patched, like a poor beggar's coat,

--and repaired them. This circumstance, it appears, was produced against him at his trial, his accusers alleging

that he did repair the story of those windows by their like in the Mass-book.

The Archbishop, in denial, affirmed that he and his secretary had made out the story as well as they could by the remains that were unbroken. In the course of a few years these beautiful windows were all defaced by the Puritans. There was an organ in the chapel in Archbishop Parker's time, and in Laud's. The great memory of the chapel is its connexion with Archbishop Parker, who was consecrated here, Miles Coverdale assisting, and who, dying, directed his remains to be buried in it. A friend wrote a very favourable epitaph whilst the primate was yet alive, and showed it to him. The Archbishop's reply was very happy. He could not, he said, assume the description of such a character to himself, but he would so make use of it as to attain as far as possible the good qualities and virtues it specified. In the monument with this inscription was taken away; for, House then coming into the possession of Colonel Scot, he, wanting to turn the chapel into a hall or dancing-room, found this monument in his way, and so demolished it. Nor was that all. With the fanaticism which all the religious parties of the day exhibited in their conduct towards each other, Matthew Hardyng, a Puritan (and Archbishop Parker had been no friend to the Puritans), caused his body to be dug up, stripped of its leaden covering, which was sold, and the venerable remains to be buried in a dunghill, where they remained till after the Restoration. Sir William Dugdale had the honour of procuring their restoration. He heard of the matter accidentally, and immediately repaired to Archbishop Sancroft, by whose diligence, aided by an order from the , the bones were found and again buried in the chapel. A stone, with the following inscription (translated from the Latin original), now marks the place:

The body of Matthew (Parker), Archbishop, here rests at last.

Sancroft also caused the monument to be again erected to his memory, with a long inscription, in the part of the chapel divided from the rest by the screen. From the chapel we pass through a very fine and very ancient gateway into the Post-room. We do not anywhere find the idea thrown out that this gateway, with the large window above, now partly filled up, as shown in our drawing, formed in all probability an exterior front to the chapel long before the building of the Lollards' Tower; yet such no doubt was the case. Of the origin or purpose of the Post-room, which derives its name from a stout pillar in the centre, we can gather no information from the local historians. It forms the lowest story of the Lollards' Tower; is it possible that it was intended for the personal punishment of the unfortunate heretics confined above? It is on record, as we have already seen, that the builder of the Tower, Chicheley, found during his time the impossibility of punishing all heretics with death, and the inconvenience, and, as perhaps he thought, the inefficiency, of merely confining them; whipping and other severe and degrading punishments were consequently adopted. We fear that the Post-room was expressly set


apart for this purpose. A low door in corner originally led, we have been informed, to the crypt beneath, an exceedingly fine work, with groined roof, the whole size of the chapel, and the restoration of which to its pristine state would be an act worthy of the enlightened prelate who has already done so much for the palace, and who, we are informed, also meditates the complete restoration of the chapel. Upwards this door led by a stone staircase, now ruinous, to the gallery of the chapel, and across that into the
staircase to the Lollards' prison. But the ordinary way to this room lies through a door on the opposite side of the Post-room. Entering through this door, we follow the winding track that many have gone before under circumstances requiring the highest efforts of their minds to enable them to bear up under the inflictions that awaited them. The strength they sought, however, was given to them. These prison-walls have doubtless witnessed many an agonizing effort to stun the voices of wives, children, friends, whispering to them of the relief that was to be purchased by apostacy; they have doubtless also witnessed the sublime victory that these gallant spirits have achieved. Could we know all the separate histories of the men whose handwriting lies on the wall of this strange-looking room, what glorious revelations into the dim but holy recesses of the human heart might not be given to us! There is circumstance that must instantly arrest the attention of every in the Lollards' prison: it is entirely boarded over-floor, ceiling, and walls. Could this have been done by Chicheley, who was not an unfeeling man when out of the performance of what he esteemed his duties, for the comfort of his prisoners; or was it necessary for their safety during the winter? In another respect this prison was far from being an unpleasant , considered simply as a prison. The dash of falling oars into the water--the sighing of the wind in the tree-tops close to the window--the melody of the birds, who would sing as merrily for the heretics as for the orthodox Archbishop himself-must have materially lessened the horrors of captivity. A pleasing picture too rises to the mind's eye, as we contemplate the


disposition of of the rings-immediately under the principal window. The person who had that post might, no doubt, have been often heard telling his companions of what he saw passing on the river; noticing the splendid barges continually stopping at on the opposite shore, and speculating as to the names or objects of their owners. The feelings aroused by such narrations must have often been changed suddenly into an emotion of a deeper nature, as they saw the Archbishop or his messengers, in the episcopal barge, crossing towards , with an order perhaps for the release of of them, perhaps for his death. There are of these rings in all. The dimensions of the room are, as may be judged from our engraving, very small; about feet by , and about high. The door within the stone walls is set in an immense framework of timber. There is another window besides that we have mentioned, which looks into the palace gardens. To these we now descend, and, having paused a while to admire the exquisite view of the palace thence obtained, finally quit, with no unnatural reluctance, this beautiful and deeply interesting place.


[n.258.1] Stow, b. iii. p. 235.

[n.259.1] This edifice was long known by the name of Rochester Place. The last bishops of that see who inhabited it were Fisher and Hilsley; after their deaths it fell into the hands of Henry VIII., who exchanged it with Aldridge, Bishop of Carlisle, for certain houses in the Strand, when its name was changed to Carlisle House. The. dirty lane known as Carlisle Lane now stands on the site; and it is said, in Herbert and Brayley's Lambeth Palace, that the houses still belong to the see.

[n.263.1] Godwin's De Praesulibus Angliae Cominentarius.

[n.270.1] Pictorial History of England, Book V. p. 142.

[n.273.1] Harrington's Brief View of the Church of England, p. 3.

[n.274.1] Whitelock's Memorials.