THE occasion which William the Conqueror seized for building the Tower has been already described.[1]  The situation, close by the river's bank, favours the supposition that a part at least of the ground within the precinct was reckoned royal property as foreshore. But another part was undoubtedly taken from the citizens, and the circuit of the city walls was broken. It has recently been ascertained, not only that a considerable quantity of Roman brick was used in the buildings, but that the foundation of the White Tower itself overlies that of a great and solid bastion. When Gray therefore talked of the

towers of Julius,

towers of Caesar,

While the western half of the tower precinct thus belongs to the ancient circuit of the city, the eastern half belongs to the original parish of . It is perhaps on this account that the parliamentary borough which has been formed of the parish is called, not Stepney, but, somewhat absurdly, the The boundaries of the precinct are very sharply defined, and for many ages the city looked with great jealousy at any encroachment. When Edward IV., for example, set up the gallows on Tower Hill, the citizens immediately

In the reign of James I. a similar question arose, but in this case the citizens were apparently the aggressors. The lord mayor in ordered

a prison or cage

The gradual growth of the buildings as we see them now may be briefly traced. When William died the works were far from complete. At the close of the reign of Stephen there was only the White Tower within its wall, forming what we now know as the inner ward, the royal palace being on the south-east side.

No doubt there was a ditch, but probably not a very formidable one.

church of St. Peter at the Tower of London.

But to Henry III. must be given the credit of having made of the Tower the extensive fortification we now see. At his accession the wall of the inner ward was complete, but the quay along the river's edge, and the water gate known as St. Thomas's Tower, had not been constructed. The wall probably abutted on the water, and the principal entrance was directly on the river. The palace, or was built before , and the Bell Tower probably soon after, work going on constantly. There are many entries as to the making of a chimney for the king's chamber, a piece of domestic engineering which seems to have taxed the ability of the builders. At this time the Wakefield Tower, which had formed part of the Norman work, was raised and completed, and the adjoining. Close to it was the great hall of the palace, destroyed during the Commonwealth. It is in the Wakefield Tower that the modern visitor inspects the crown jewels, but it was long used for the storage of records. Unfortunately the old building has here been almost completely renewed, the chapel-the third which is known to have existed in the Tower of London-having been destroyed, not, indeed, under the Commonwealth, but under the direction of the

In , Henry III., the new-built Traitor's Gate, or Water Tower, fell down suddenly. It was rebuilt, and again fell. No doubt the foundation in the bed of the river was not sufficiently strong or deep. But superstition accounted for the two occurrences in a much more satisfactory way. On the night of the second fall the great Archbishop Thomas appeared to a certain priest and told him that he resented these great works as prejudicial to the citizens. Nevertheless, the king had them renewed, and compounded with the saint by calling the new tower after him. On this his sympathies with the citizens ceased to agitate him. An oratory in the upper storey, the fourth building of the kind, was dedicated to St. Thomas of Canterbury.

A good many of Henry III.'s descendants passed through the archway, some of them under sad circumstances. We cannot forget the figure of the lady Elizabeth, who was sent to the Tower on the outbreak of Wyatt's rebellion. When the boat came to the stair the princess refused to land. The lord in charge of her peremptorily told her she had no choice. It rained, and he offered her his cloak, which she refused,

putting it from her with a good dash,

Here landeth as true a subject, being a prisoner, as ever landed at these stairs.

Better sit here than in a worse place,

The impression which St. Thomas's Tower used to make on the visitor is now much weakened. The upper storey consists of a new, nay, a novel building in the style of a country cottage; and the water is no longer permitted to approach the steps. Few of the stones, if any, that Elizabeth saw in are to be seen now. Everything has been

Perhaps the most curious commitment was that of the abbot of , who, with forty-eight monks and thirty-two other persons, was sent to the Tower by Edward I. on suspicion of having stolen the king's treasure. The crime was brought home at last, after a long trial, to the sub-prior and sacrist.[8]  Their skins were nailed on the doors of the treasury and of the sacristy, where they still remain, a warning to evil-doers.

Edward III. did much for the Tower, which was the site of a powder factory in , to the great danger of the buildings, though, in all probability, the quality of the explosive compound was not such as to make it very formidable. There are entries in the records for saltpetre and sulphur,

ad opus Regis pro gunnis.

In this reign, too, the Tower saw the first of a long line

When James I. came to the throne the palace within the Tower had fallen almost into ruin. According to one account, he removed the great hall. In Wren was commissioned to repair the White Tower, which he did in a way worthy of a modern restorer, and only a few traces remain of the old Norman windows.[9]  In a fire destroyed the armoury which Wren had built for James II. and William III., and the painfully substantial Wellington Barracks in a gothic style, as gothic was then understood, were placed on the site. The Beauchamp Tower was in , and all traces of antiquity carefully removed: the inscriptions on the walls were taken down and placed together in one room, so that they have lost half their interest and all their historical value. During the past few years other changes have taken place, of which it may safely be said that few of them are improvements. The curious building, dating from the reign of Edward III., which adjoined the eastern side of the White Tower, has been removed, as have the great stores which stood on the site of the old palace.[10] 

The chapel of St. Peter's has suffered more from than even the Beauchamp Tower. It only dates from , when an older church was burnt, and was still new when interments were first made within its walls. Few churches have undergone greater vicissitudes than St. Peter's. It may be described as either a collegiate church, a parish church, a royal chapel, or a garrison chapel. The intentions of Edward III. to place it under a dean and three canons, were never carried out. A similar scheme formed by Edward IV. went further, but was eventually dropped. It has, however, been continually served by a whose office, instituted perhaps when the church was first built, has survived until now. Even when the arrangements for a college were in progress, the parson of St. Peter existed, and in gave very powerful proof of his existence when he slew a certain Friar Randolph, as Stow tells us without further comment. Philip and Mary found

no parson abyde to have cure sowle,

the same to be established into perfecyon.

The position of the Tower parson is, nevertheless still anomalous. The bishop has no jurisdiction within the precincts, says one authority.[12]  Godwin and Britton report that it is under the control of the bishop of , which is probably correct; but Bayley calls it a chapelry, and in the next line speaks of

the chaplain or rector.

would not meddle with it,

the rector and his son, the curate

But,

whether ever any bishop of

London

, did by virtue of these letters exercise any jurisdiction within the Tower, I have not found.

We have all read and reread the affecting words in which Stow notices the chapel.

Here lieth before the high altar in St. Peter's church, two dukes between two

queens, to wit, the duke of Somerset, and the duke of Northumberland, between queen Anne and queen Katherine, all four beheaded.

Thither have been carried through successive ages, by the rude hands of gaolers, without one mourner following, the bleeding relics of men who had been the captains of armies, the leaders of parties, the oracles of senates, and the ornaments of courts.

barbarous stupidity

the likeness of a meeting house in a manufacturing town,

But the alteration of the reredos was a small matter. There was not a more interesting piece of ground of its size in England than that which lay under the broken pavement of the chancel. It is almost incredible that a

Before the building of the Record Office in Fetter Lane, the national archives were deposited in the Tower. Latterly the accumulation was so great that not the chapel in the White Tower only, but several other buildings, as the Wakefield and Bloody Towers, for example, were filled with documents. The chancery records were kept here at a very early period.[15]  In the reign of Elizabeth, the first attempt to reduce the records to order was made by William Bowyer,[16]  but his digest is lost. His successor, William Lambard, usually called compiled a calendar[17]  of the records under his charge and intrusted it to the countess of Warwick to lay before the queen. But Elizabeth desired that Lambard should present it in person, saying,

If any subject of mine do me a service, I will thankfully accept it from his own hands.

In , John Selden became keeper of the records.

A different kind of interest attaches to the Tower menagerie, the nucleus of the great collection now in the gardens of the Zoological Society in Regent's Park. has become a proverb. People who visit the ancient fortress now do not go to study natural history, but is still the phrase employed. The first wild beasts were kept in the Tower almost as soon as it was built.[18]  Henry I. had a collection of lions, leopards, and other strange animals. Three leopards, in allusion perhaps to the royal heraldry, were presented to Henry III. by the emperor Frederick II. This king indulged his zoological tastes at the expense of the city, whose greatest oppressor he seems to have been in so many other respects. The sheriffs had to arrange in for the safe-keeping of a white bear from Norway. They "provided four pence daily, with a muzzle and iron chain, to keep him when 'extra aquam' and a stout cord to hold him when a-fishing in the Thames."[19]  Two years later an elephant arrived from France. He landed at Sandwich and the sheriffs

a strong and suitable house,

At the time when the allowance for an esquire was one penny a day,

a lion had a quarter of mutton and three halfpence for the keeper; and afterwards six- pence was the lion's allowance; the same for a leopard, and three halfpence for the keeper.

wild beasts and other savage animals,

man-tyger,

nearly approaching to those of the human species.

The Lion Tower was an outwork in advance of the Middle Tower, now the principal entrance for visitors. It stood on the site of the present ticket office, and had a smaller tower adjoining it, and a drawbridge of its own.[23]  The whole of the outer space was called the Bulwark, and sometimes Spur Yard. Close to it was the sluice by which water was admitted to the Tower Ditch. During a visitation of cholera, in , the death of lord Jocelyn, then on duty at the Tower with his regiment, called attention to the unwholesomeness of the great surface of stagnant water, and the duke of Wellington ordered it to be drained. The bottom was partially filled and levelled so as to form a parade ground, and the sloping sides, north and west, were laid out with shrubs and walks, and surrounded by a railing. A curious accident happened here some years later, but escaped public notice. A fire-engine driven at great speed to the succour of a conflagration at St. Katherine's Dock beyond the Tower, emerged from Tower Street, and in the darkness was dashed against the railings. Engine, horses, and men fell headlong into the ditch, yet, strange to say, the engine only was injured.

Of all the manors connected with St. Paul's, Stepney was the greatest, and we have now to tell the story of its alienation and disintegration. A little further on a similar story will be concerned with the estates of the

This great estate comprised at least seven different modern parishes and innumerable smaller ecclesiastical divisions, being in fact itself the district so often referred to as the great and terrible Whitechapel was the first district separated. An ancient church, whose name, " St. Mary Matfelon," has been the subject of some wild guessing, had subsisted here-as St. Clement Danes had subsisted on the manor of the abbot of -from time immemorial. The rector of Stepney had the gift of the living in the time of Stow, but since the beginning of the eighteenth century even this connection with the mother parish has been severed and the advowson is now held by an Oxford College. The church was recently pulled down, and a new one in a very florid style of gothic built, but almost immediately burnt. It is now being rebuilt.

was separated in the reign of Charles II. by Act of Parliament, when the church, also probably an old chapel of ease, was consecrated as St. Paul's, the gift being in the dean and chapter of the cathedral. One by one after this, Spitalfields, Limehurst, Stratford, and Bethnal Green have followed,

The dedication to St. Dunstan is almost manifestly later than the church itself; and we find, accordingly, " All Saints " added to the English archbishop, and even in some authorities an assertion that to them alone the parish was originally assigned. The old church has been much molested, but is the old church still, and contains a fine series of ancient monuments. So far back as the beginning of the last century the fame of Stepney in this respect had penetrated westward, and we find its epitaphs quoted in both the ' Spectator' and the 'Tatler.' Built into the west porch is a stone carved with an inscription commencing,

Of Carthage wall I was a stone,

Thomas Hughes,

1663

.

Of the other churches in this vast parish it would be impossible to give a detailed account. With one exception, all were in the classical style, until St. Philip's was built in , the first example of the gothic revival; but one old gothic church survived, namely, at Stratford, near the "Bow " or arched bridge over the Lea, a chapelry of

, like , at the time of the Conquest and long after, was a centre of fashion. Domesday Book contains a list of the bishop's tenants, from which we gather that some great men of the court, some of the city, and some of the church lived here, though it would be difficult to identify their holdings. Ralf Flambard must have overshadowed the bishop himself. Hugh Berners was a Norman noble. William de Vere became the progenitor of the long and illustrious line of the earls of Oxford. Beside the bishop of Lisieux and several canons of St. Paul's, there were some eminent citizens- Roger, the sheriff,[26]  for example, and William, the chamberlain. These great persons probably lived either about , outside the wall, or at itself, near the church of St. Dunstan. One or two of the holdings may still be identified. In the same paragraph with the bishop's home manor the estate of a canon of St. Paul's is described. This was probably Holywell or Finsbury, since the bishop's house was north of the city and near Bethnal Green. Sired, a canon, held it in the days of king Edward, and could sell or lease it. Another prebendal manor is mentioned, and as it is in the same paragraph, it was presumably at the same place, and would answer to the modern stall of [27]  A

Engelbric, a canon,

virgate

The bishop's manor house was at Bethnal Green. Its site, close to the western entrance of Victoria Park, is still indicated by some of the local names, such as Bishop's Road, Bonner's Road, and Hall Bridge. Names alone are ancient now in this quarter. All else is modern and moreover shabby. The Beggar's Daughter has multiplied a hundred thousand fold. Only public houses and pawnbrokers' shops seem to flourish, everything else has an air of poverty, which here and there puts on a still more melancholy look of gentility. There are a few private houses, surrounded by straggling gardens, and coarse weedy grass. There are great hospitals, one of which occupies part of the site of the bishop's manor house. There are some modern churches built in the early years of the gothic revival, and the handsome, if useless Columbia Market,[29]  looks strange and out of place in all its finery of pinnacles. An occasional board school rises above the low roofs and looks pleasant and pretty by contrast.

There is an old Joe Miller about Bethnal Green which used to puzzle commentators. It related to some coarse joke made by Rochester or Charles II. as to a causeway constructed of the skulls and horns of cattle which

In one of them stands the museum, conspicuous among the east end buildings as the only example of what future ages may call the South Kensington style of architecture. The pilgrim from the west end if he is not very young may see another memento of Brompton in the majolica fountain which was so conspicuous an object in the exhibition of . The raw colours are as bright, as inharmonious as ever. Glazed pottery, indeed, enjoys perpetual youth. The interior of the museum is more pleasing: the specimens of manufacture of different kinds being well arranged, and loan collections of china and pictures being constantly on view.

Before bishop Ridley surrendered to Edward VI., or rather to the greedy courtier who coveted it, the manor house had seen some very fine company at times. There is not much to connect Bonner with it during his first incumbency of the see, but before him several bishops had made it an occasional residence. Braybrook, who was chancellor of England in the beginnings of troubles under Richard II., found it convenient to live for months together half-way as it were between town and country. The hunting grounds of Hornsey and Highgate with their woods stretched away over the hills towards the great forest on one side, the busy city that, literally,

kings and priests were plotting in,

Near the church of St. Dunstan was another old house. In Edward I. held a parliament in Stepney at the house of the mayor of , Henry le Waleys. The mayor's country villa must have been a palace. Its exact site is not certain, but it was probably the same as that occupied by mayor Pulteney in . He was the representative of a great city family still commemorated in St. Lawrence one of whom at a much later period was an eminent statesman, and earl of Bath. Sir Henry Colet, the father of dean Colet, had a house here also, probably the same; it stood a little west of the church[30]  and was known as the Great Place. Some fragments were still to be seen in the present century. The monument of Sir Henry Colet, repeatedly restored, is in the church. It is the special care of the Mercer's Company. The house which Sir Henry left to the company, was by them leased to the great vicar-general, Cromwell, earl of Essex. Colet's son, the celebrated dean, was vicar of the parish. It is seldom that so many great associations cluster round one such place. Here More and Erasmus must have visited Colet-whether in the vicarage, or at his father's house-and there are many allusions to the place in their letters. He died in , and so did not witness the reign of terror under which More lost his head, nor did he see his father's house desecrated by the presence of Cromwell. When Cromwell in his turn was attainted the lease of Stepney was allowed to descend to his nephew, Sir Richard

Stepney was privileged to have both a rector and a vicar. The rectory was a sinecure, but the rector nominated the vicar who paid him the rent of a red rose for the vicarage house. Colet was not rector, as he is sometimes called, but vicar: he lived in a house of his own, which he bequeathed to St. Paul's School, as a villa for the Its site is marked by Colet Place. Pace, the friend of Erasmus, succeeded Colet as vicar of Stepney, and after some years, also as dean of St. Paul's. Rectory and vicarage have long been united, and the living is now in private patronage.[31] 

The greater part of the manor of must, however, have been very little better than a fen until a comparatively late period. We find a prioress of St. Helen's just before the Dissolution granting a lease of land in Stepney called Hare Marsh; and even so late as the time of Stow, much of the parish was completely open. There were fair hedges, he tells us, and long rows of elms and other trees. The name of Wapping may be that of a Saxon mark, but the old addition

in the Wose,

at the low water mark, there to remain, till three tides had overflowed them.

a continual street, or filthy strait passage, with alleys of small tenements, or cottages, built, inhabited by sailors' victuallers, along by the river of Thames.

The bishop of has still the gift of a majority of the livings in this immense parish, but he is no longer lord of the manor of Stepney. In , Nicholas Ridley, then bishop, and afterwards martyr, surrendered

the manner in which the body was set forth,

the quality of the deceased.

, which forms the chief part of the Tyssen estate, lies at the northern extremity of the old manor of . In the marshes of the Lea there was from time immemorial a village named Hackney Wick. It was on an island or of the river named

At the dissolution of the monasteries, the Temple manor in was granted to the earl of Northumberland.[37]  It is one of the historical puzzles of that puzzling period to know how this earl Henry kept his head on his shoulders and survived to die in his bed,

at

his manor of

Hackney

, now the king's house, between two and three in the morning, on the 29th of June in

1537

.

right noble parentage, for her mother is high of the Norfolk blood, and her father descended of the earl of Ormond,

The manor reverted to the crown, the reversion having already been secured by a deed. It obtained, short as was the time it belonged to any sovereign, the name of kingshold, in contradistinction to "lordshold," the estate remaining to the bishop out of his original lordship. Kingsland and Kingsland Road still indicate the site, but there is little air of antiquity left in any part of . Here and there a "Queen Anne" or early Georgian house may be seen, with a heavy cornice and

The bishop's land was termed as the bishop was the original lord of the whole manor of . It went with Stepney to the Wentworths, but after the Commonwealth was not restored to them, and passed through the hands of various owners, chiefly as I have said, Daniels and Tyssens, many of whom were commemorated in church. Both came originally from Holland and were great in the city. There are still some fine old houses to be seen at Hackney, but most of those we read of in the last century have disappeared. Among them was Balmes or Baumes, now only commemorated by Balm Road. It was built about and had a high picturesque roof.[40]  The estate on which it stood was sold to Richard Beauvoir in , and belongs or lately belonged to his descendants the Benyon family. Balmes became eventually a madhouse, but has long disappeared, though the streets and squares of the neighbourhood preserve the names of some of its successive owners. A family named Perwich who kept a boarding school for young ladies at Hackney after the Restoration obtained celebrity on account of the beauty and accomplishments of Susanna Perwich, who was buried in the middle aisle of the church in ,

in the 25th year of her age, of a fever which she caught by sleeping in a damp bed.

a description of her person,

mix'd curiously,

gave great delight,

alabaster rocks

From her black jetty starry eye

Ten thousand sparkling Lustres flie.

Brave gen'rous spirits siderial

Move quick about each nimble Ball

her handsom sitting at her musick

No Antick gestures, or bold face,

No wriggling motions her disgrace.

While she's at play, nor eye, nor head,

Hither or thither wandered.

Nor nods, nor heaves in any part,

As taken with her own rare Art.

Several pages are occupied with an account of her religious state, from which we gather that Mr. Batchiler was probably a nonconformist preacher of the Calvinistic school, and we then reach her last illness and death. She went to stay a few days with a friend.

-- Behold damp sheets

Cling close about her in the bed,

At which she waking said, I'm dead:

And so it prov'd, alas ! for wo !

At thought on't I'm afflicted so !

That briniest tears drop from mine eyes

My heart with throbs and inward cryes,

All broken is ! what shall I say ?

She's thus untimely snatcht away !

Shall I the careless Maid go blame ?

And tell her what a horrid shame,

It is, that by her negligence

So choice a one is lost from hence?

She died of acute rheumatism, or rheumatic fever, to judge by Mr. Batchiler's account of her sufferings, and her father's scholars wept round her bier, the maid servants of the school, all dressed in white, carried her coffin covered with a white pall, to the church, and

a rich costly garland of gum work, adorned with banners and scutchions was borne immediately before the hearse, by two proper young ladies, that entirely loved her.

Mrs. Anne Carew, one of the greatest beauties of England in her time, and formerly a Gentlewoman of the School.

the second of those five Gentlewomen onely, which have dyed out of her Father's House, among those eight hundred, that have been educated there, within the compass of seventeen years.

Now you young Ladies of the School

Lest your affections grow too cool.

Sit down, consider well your case-"

serious exhortation,

Shall we not count it our best friend

That brings us to so brave an end.

Perhaps the quaintest thing in this quaint book, besides some acrostics, chronograms, and odes by the fair Susannah's school-fellows, is a long series of "Practical Queeries," with which her biographer, proposing to fill up the remainder of a sheet,

left void for want of matter,

Whether he that affirms total and final falling away from special grace be not a downright Arminian, and Cozen-German to a Papist.

[1] See above, vol. i. chapter iv.

[2] 'Remembrancia,' p. 442.

[3] See 'Remembrancia,' passim.

[4] Clark, ' Old London,' 101.

[5] See vol. i. chapter v.

[6] ' The Tower of London,' by Lord de Ros, 71.

[7] Lord de Ros mentions a tradition to the effect that certain of the city church bells having been rung on Elizabeth's release, she afterwards presented those churches with silken bell-ropes. He goes on to say that silken ropes long existed in the vestry chest of the church of Aldgate. This may refer to St. Botolph's.

[8] Stanley's 'Westminster Abbey,' chapter v.; and Scott's ' Gleanings,' p. 283, where will be found an account of the trial by the late Mr. Burtt.

[9] I regret to hear that it is proposed to restore Wren's work. The authorities who have charge of the Tower have no more reverence for historical association than the dean and chapter of a gothic cathedral.

[10] It is understood that a further falsification of the record is to be carried out shortly by the erection of a building here which will harmonise with its surroundings.

[11] ' The Chapel in the Tower,' by D. C. Bell, p. 6. Mr. Bell carefully and approvingly details the vandalism and sacrilege which were perpetrated in 1876 and the following year.

[12] Mr. Bell.

[13] i. 530. Mr. Bell's assertion that this arrangement was abrogated upon the establishment of the Protestant succession in the following reign, is somewhat puzzling. What Protestant succession did Elizabeth establish ? And what abrogation was ever formally made ? There cannot, in short, be any reason for doubting that the chaplaincy is of the nature of a perpetual curacy in the diocese of London. The constable is the patron. The stipend is paid by the Exchequer.

[14] Mr. Doyne Bell mentions the resolution of the committee who carried on this unfortunate work. It is so typical of the state of mind which makes this kind of restoration possible that I quote it: The chapel should be as far as possible restored to its original condition, and also suitably arranged as a place of worship for the use of the inhabitants and garrison of the Tower. It did not strike anybody that the two objects were incompatible the one with the other.

[15] The name of William Lamhith, clerk of the works, is on record as having been ordered to see to the repairs of the house in which they were kept in 1360. The spelling of his name is interesting in connection with the controversies mentioned in chapter xxii.

[16] Was Bowyer's Tower called after him ?

[17] Brayley and Britton, 'The Tower of London,' p. 338.

[18] ' The Tower Menagerie,' with cuts, by William Harvey, published in 1829, a pretty book.

[19] Clark, 'Old London,' p.96>

[20] 'Tower Menagerie,' p. xv.

[21] 'History of London,' i. 172. His list commences with Two Egyptian night walkers, perhaps some species of monkey, or lemurs.

[22] ' Gardens and Menagerie,' with Harvey's cuts, 2 vols. 1831.

[23] It may be seen on the extreme left-or west--of the accompanying view.

[24] It was just twenty years after that Mr. Huntingdon brought home from Egypt to Oxford the oldest monument now in England. See 'Catalogue,' Ashmolean Museum, No. 794.

[25] See ' Handbook to St. Paul's,' pp. 156-168, for notices of Colet and Pace.

[26] He was probably sheriff of Middlesex, but he may have been sheriff of London. The Essex sheriff seems to have been Sweyn. On the whole it seems likely that Rogerius, vicecomes, as he is described in the MS., was not the successor of Gosfrith, to whom the charter had been granted, as the title of William the Chamberlain seems to answer best to that of Portreeve.

[27] See above, chapter i. p. 4. Neither Holywell nor Ealdland is mentioned by name in Domesday.

[28] 'Steven's Continuation of Dugdale,' p. 83.

[29] Intended by lady Burdett-Coutts for a local market, but, perhaps, too good for the place, and a failure. The architect was Mr. Darbishire, and the building cost about 200,000£.

[30] Lysons, ii. 685.

[31] The gift is in the Tyssen-Amherst family.

[32] The Wap Ing may have been a meadow by the river.

[33] A similar custom existed in the liberty of Castle Baynard.

[34] See a similar case under " Battersea," chapter xxii.

[35] The prebend of Holywell was in both St. Giles' Cripplegate, and St. Leonard's Shoreditch. There is still a Holywell Street in Shoreditch.

[36] Riley (' Memorials,' p. 12) speaks of Fall-gate.

[37] Henry, 6th earl.

[38] His only brother, Thomas Percy, had been beheaded a few months before for participation in Aske's rebellion. The earldom became extinct, but was revived twenty years later in favour of a son of Thomas.

[39] Wilkinson's ' Londina Illustrata,' i. 121.

[40] Lysons, i. 320.

[41] The book is somewhat scarce, and most modern writers have been content to borrow the lines which Lysons copies. The title runs as follows:- The Virgin's Pattern: in the exemplary life and lamented death of Mrs. Susanna Perwich, daughter of Mr. Robert Perwich, who departed this life, every way a rarely accomplished virgin, in the flower of her age, at her father's house in Hackney, near London, in the county of Middlesex, July 3, 1661. Published at the earnest request of divers that knew her well, for the use and benefit of others, by John Batchiler, a near relation, that occasionally had an intimate converse in the family with her, more or less, the greatest part of her life.

[42] I Cor. iii. 22.