The Tower of London

ortcullis' a

with its ba

ance lon

ch turn by lo

n might in

raud should bu

an enter

ot

r authorities into the charge of the City officials. Grass grew on the{88} hill and its river slope in those days, and, leaving the Tower Gateway behind, one would, as it were, step into an open meadow, the declivity towards the Moat on one side and the cottages of Petty Wales on the other. The aspect of this main entrance to the Tower has been so altered that it is a little difficult nowadays to reconstruct it in imagination. The Moat made a semicircular bend

and to provide a muzzle and chain to hold him while fishing in the Thames." In Henry's reign the first elephant seen in England since the time of the Romans came to the Tower menagerie, and lions and leopards followed. James I. and his friends came here frequently "to see lions and bears baited by dogs," and in 1708 Strype, the historian, mentions "eagles, owls, and two cats of the mountain," as occupants of the cages. In 1829,

by a double portcullis. The{90} sharp turn in the approach-formerly a bridge, now a paved roadway-to this Tower would make it impossible to "rush" this gateway with any success. When Elizabeth returned as Queen to the Tower, which she had left, five years befor

pumped out in 1843, and the bed filled up with gravel and soil to form a drill ground. It was across that portion of the Moat lying to the north, under Tower Hill, that two attempts at escape were made in the last years of Charles I.'s

ONT), NOW THE ENTRANCE TO THE TOWER BUIL

ENTRANCE TO THE TOWER BUILDINGS,

l loudly for help{92} lest he should be unable to continue the exertion necessary and so be drowned. However, cheered by friends waiting under cover of bushes on the Tower Hill bank, he came at last to firm ground. He was carried to rooms in the Temple, and from thence conveyed, some days later, to Lambeth. But the boatman who had carried the fugitive and his friends from the Temple Stairs, guessing who his passenger was, raised an alarm. Capel was discovered, put again in the Tower, and beheaded in March, 1649, beside Westminster Hall. The grim-looking Byward Tower is said to have been so named from the fact that the by-word, or password, had to be given at its gateway before admittance could be gained even to the outer ward of the fortress. On that side of it nearest the river, a postern gateway leads to a small drawbridge across the ditch. This gave access to the royal landing-place on the wharf, immediately opposite, and in this way privileged persons were able to enter the Tower without attention to those formalities necessary to gain entry to the buildings in the ordinary way. In the Byward Tower, to the right, under the archway, is the Warders' Parlour, a finely-vaulted room, and outside its doorway we

k may nott awaye but with a few kynd of meats, which if I want, I decay forthwith, and fall into crafs and diseases of my bodye, and kan not keep myself in health." But no alleviation of his sufferings did he obtain, and early in the morning, when winter and spring had passed away, and slender rays of June sunshine had found entrance to his dismal dwelling-place, the Lieutenant of the Tower came to him to announce that a message from the King had arrived, and that Fisher was to suffer death that day. The Bishop took this as happy tidings, granting release from intolerable conditions of life. At nine o'clock he was carried to Little Tower Hill (towards the present Royal Mint buildings), praying as he went. On the scaffold he exclaimed, "Accedite ad eum et illuminamini, et facies vestr? non confundentur," with hands uplifted, and, having spoken some few words to the crowd around, was repeating the words of the Thirty-first Psalm, "In thee, O Lord, have I put my trust," when the axe fell. Into the lower dungeon Sir Thomas More was taken in the same month as Fisher (April 1534). More had been friend and companion to King Henry, and had held the office of Lord Chancellor after Wolsey. But past friendship and high services were forgotten{96} when, with Fisher, he refused to accept

THER·FOR·RESON·HATH·ME PERSWADED THAT PASYENS MVST BE YMBRASYD:

ate carving preserves the features of the first Stuart who sat on the English throne, and, near by, the many virtues-lest their existence should be doubted by unbelievers-of that amiable monarch are set forth for all to read who may. In this room Pepys "did go to dine" (February 166

its stones and rest upon the bars of its massive gateway. Above it rises the great arch, sixty-two feet span, supporting St. Thomas's Tower, built, as has already been stated, by Henry III., and named after St. Thomas of Canterbury. This "Watergate," as it was at one time called, was the only direct way of entering the Tower from the river, and, before the draining of the moat, the gate here was always partly covered by water,

e: THE TRAITOR'S

R'S GATE,

he father gave his child his last blessing and she was led away from him. To these steps came Anne Boleyn; Cromwell, Earl of Essex; Queen Katherine Howard; Seymour, Duke of Somerset; Lady Jane Grey, Princess Elizabeth, Devereux, Earl of Essex; the Duke of Monmouth, and the Seven Bishops. In the room above the Gate, Lord Grey de Wilton died (1614), af

Robert Brackenbury had become Lieutenant of the Tower: to him Richard, who was riding towards Gloucester, sent a messenger with letters asking him if he would be willing to rid the King of the Princes. This messenger had delivered his papers to the Lieutenant as he knelt at prayer in the Chapel of St. John in the White Tower. Brackenbury refused the King's request, and said he would be no party to such an act even if his refusal cost him his life. The messenger returned in haste, spurring his horse westward, and overtook Richard at Warwick. The King finding Brackenbury obdurate, sent off{101} Sir James Tyrrell with a warrant to obtain possession of the keys of the Tower for one night. The keys were given to him, and he assumed command of the place for the time.

r own servants to wait on them. But the Lieutenant of the Tower, Sir George Harvey, with whom Raleigh had spent long evenings and with whom he had made warm friendship, was succeeded by Sir William Waad, who seems to have taken a personal dislike to Sir Walter, and contrived to make his life as miserable as possible. In 1610 Raleigh was kept a close prisoner for three months, and his wife and child, no longer allowed to share his captivity, were "banished the Tower"-a decree that would prove{103} only too welcome to many-and lived for some time in a house on Tower Hill. In 1615 the King consented to release Raleigh, and allow him to command an expedition to El Dorado, which set off in 1617. What the result of that unfortunate voyage was all know: mutiny and despair may best describe its end. The King was furious; his greed for Spanish gold was unsatisfied; Spain demanded the head of "one who had been her mortal enemy." A decision had to be made whether Raleigh should be delivered to the Spaniard

Frances Howard, was brought to the same tower. Lady Frances determined to have Overbury put out of the way, and a notorious quack and procuress of the period, Mrs. Turner, had been hired to administer the drug. But this slow-poisoning proving too lengthy a process, two hired assassins ended Overbury's sufferin

DY TOWER AND JEWEL HOUSE (W

JEWEL HOUSE (WAKEFIEL

omerset and his Countess were imprisoned in the room in the Bloody Tower, where Ove

of him, "His letters, speeches, and actions in the Tower reveal a spirit of cheerfulness and even of humour, admirable in one who knows that he has chosen to die in prison in the hands of victorious enemies." During his last months he contracted consumption in his unhealthy quarters and suffered

ing been "taken" in a low ale-house in Wapping, and is reported to have spent his days in Bloody Tower "imbibing strong drink," from the effects of which employment he died in 1689. This old tower has tragedy and misery enough in its records to deserve its name, and it is a mistake on the part of Tower authorities to allow so interesting a buil

chamber where the Crown Jewels are now kept, the recess to the south-east was at one time an oratory. In Tower records of the thirteenth century it is so spoken of. Here tradition asserts that Henry VI. was murdered by Duke Richard of Gloucester, who, entering the chamber from the palace, found Henry at prayer and treacherously stabbed him to death. To the dungeon beneath this tower the men who were "out in the Forty-Five," and who were taken captive after that rebellion which was crushed at Culloden, were brought and huddled together with so little regard for the necessity of fresh air that many of them died o

tice sat. The Court of Common Pleas was held in this great hall by the river, a Gothic building, dating, probably, from the reign of Henry III.; the Court of King's Bench being held in the Lesser Hall "under the east turret of{109} the Keep"-or White Tower. At certain times "the right of public entry" of all citizens to the Tower was insisted on. But a certain ceremonial had to be observed beforehand. The "aldermen and commoners met in Allhallows Barking Church, on Tower Hill, and chose six sage persons to go as a deputation to the Tower, and ask leave to see the King, and demand free access for all people to the courts of l

ock-like walls a threatened king could live in security. Here were provided the elementary necessaries of life-a storehouse for food, a well to supply fresh water, a great fireplace (in the thickness of the wall), and a place of devotion, all within the walls of this one tower. The doorway by wh

nto a military tailors' workshop! That was in the mid-nineteenth century, when England in general had fallen into a state of artistic zopf and the daughters of music were brought low. So low, too, had the guardians of the nation fallen in their ideas that this beautiful building meant nothing more to them than a place, a commodious place, of four stone walls, that was lying idle and might be "put to some practical use"! The Prince Consort made timely intervention and the desecration was not persisted in. It was in this chapel that the rabble in Richard II.'s time found Archbishop Sudbury at prayer; at prayer, too, in this chapel, knelt Brackenbury when the messenger from King Richard III. brought demands for the Princes' murder; here Elizabeth of

iol in the reign of Edward I., and King David of Scotland in that of Edward III., were kept prisoners, but not in the strictest sense. Other notable captives here were King John of France (after the battle of Poitiers), Prince (afterwards

OF ST. JOHN'S CHAPEL IN TH

'S CHAPEL IN THE WHI

occasion of her progress to St. Paul's Cathedral to render thanks for the destruction of the Armada, has been removed from this room to a dark corner of the crypt of St. John's Chapel; its place is taken by an illuminated show-case in which the Coronation robes of the reigning sovereign are displayed. Models of the instruments of torture-the r

Hastings, the Lord Chamberlain. The lords were seated at council when Richard entered the broad, low room in anger, and exclaimed, to their astonishment, "What are they worthy to have that compass and imagine my destruction?" The lords, sore amazed at this, sat dumb, and none dared speak lest he be accused. Then the irate Richard bared his withered arm and called on all to{115} look what sorcery had done. His protestation had, however, been somewhat overacted, and his lords in the Chamber of Council saw that he was but in a fit of spleen and hasty to pick a quarrel with any. Still, Lord Hastings took courage to stand and reply, "If any have so heinously done, they are worthy of heinous punishment." "What!" said Richard, starting up; "thou servest me ill, I ween, with 'ifs.' I tell thee they have so done, and that I will make good on thy body, traitor." In great anger he strode to a table and hit it heavily with his clenched fist. At this signal a great number of armed men, who had been cunningly hid in the stone passage that lay within the thickness of the wall, entered the room

s Cell." This grim chamber, hollowed out of the wall of the crypt, would, when the door was shut and all light of day excluded, have been the most unwelcome hole for any human being to linger in. To assert that Raleigh sat and wrote here, by rushlight, is drawing too heavily on our credulity. Even "that{117} beast Waad" would not have put his famous prisoner into such a place of darkness. The crypt has a remarkable barrel-shaped

neither lie down nor stand up with any satisfaction, but was compelled to exist there in a cramped and stooping posture. This miserable cell lay between the dungeon containing the rack and the great dungeon under the crypt of St. John's Chapel. Though the formidable iron-studded door of Little Ease, with its ingenious system of locks and bolts, is still to be seen, the cell itself has been broken through to give entrance to the black vault beyond. Yet even to-day, in spite of foolish "improvements," some idea of the power of Little Ease to administer suffering can be gained. In this, at one time, circumscribed space, Guy Fawkes spent his last weeks, with no fresh air to breathe and no glimmer of light to{119} cheer. The gloomy dungeon, to which Little Ease now gives access, under St. John's crypt, was the foulest and blackest of all the Tower cells. Even now it is a place of horror, though an attempt has been made to enlarge the single window, high up on the eastern side, and admit a little more light. Hundreds of Jews were shut up here in King John's time, charged, as has already been stated in the previous chapter, with tampering with the coinage of the realm. No light of any kind entered the place in those days, the earthen floor was carefully ke

nnon found in the Mary Rose, wrecked off Spithead in 1545. Two solemn ravens hover about these old guns day by day, and perch at times, with significant gravity, on the site of the block near by. Tower Green was the place of private, as To

: THE KING'S HOUS

HOUSE FROM

ight go out in the same manner. Her eyebrows were inclined to be sandy, and as my lord's were dark and thick, I had prepared some paint to disguise him. I had also got an artificial head-dress of the same coloured hair as hers, and rouged his face and cheeks, to conceal his beard which he had not had time to shave. All this provision I had before left in the Tower. I made Mrs. Mills take off her own hood and put on that which I had brought for her. I then took her by the hand and led her out of my{123} lord's chamber. In passing through the next room, in which were several people, with all the concern imaginable, I said, 'My dear Mrs. Catherine, go in all haste and send me my waiting-maid; she certainly cannot reflect how late it is. I am to present my petition to-night; to-morrow it is too late. Hasten her as much as possible, for I shall be on thorns till she comes.'... When I had seen her safe out I returned to my lord and finished dressing him. I had taken care that Mrs. Mills did not go out crying, as she came in, that my lord might better pass for the lady who came in crying and afflicted; and the more so that as he had the same dress that she wore. When I had almost finished dressing my lord, I perceived it was growing dark, and was afraid that the light of the candle might betray us, so I resolved to set off. I went out leading him by the hand, whilst he held his handkerchief to his eyes. I spoke to him in the most piteous and afflicted tone, bewailing the negligence of my maid Evans, who had ruined me by her delay. Then I said, 'My dear Mrs. Betty ... run quickly and bring her with you. I am almost distracted with this disappointment.' The guards opened the door, and I went downstairs with him, still conjuring him to make all possible{124} despatch. As soon as he had cleared the door, I made him walk before me, for fear the sentinel should take notice of his walk. At the bottom of the stairs I met my dear Evans, into whose hands I confided him." Lord Nithsdale, now

though he was too easily diverted from them by indolence or pleasure, had some desire to make himself personally acquainted with the state of the military stores, arms, etc., of{127} which the Tower was then, as now, the magazine.... The King, accompanied by the Dukes of Buckingham, Ormond, and one or two others, walked through the well-known hall [in the White Tower] in which is preserved the most splendid magazine of arms in the world, and which, though far from exhibiting its present extraordinary state of perfection, was even then an arsenal worthy of the great nation to which it belonged." In the same chapter the Tower legend of the King's discovery of Coleby (who had helped the King at Worcester fight) as a warder in the Tower is told. Sir Walter adds a footnote to the tale: "The affecting circumstances are, I believe, recorded in one of the little manuals which are put into the hands of visitors." In this room of the Beauchamp Tower, Nigel, Lord Glenvarloch, is imprisoned as narrated in The Fortunes of Nigel, which pictures earlier days-the times of James I. Nigel "followed the lieutenant to the ancient buildings on the western side of the parade, and adjoining to the chapel, used in those days as a State prison, but in ours [this was written in 1822] as the mess-room of the officers of the guard upon duty at the fortress. The double doors were un

AL ROOM, FOR STATE PRISONE

STATE PRISONERS, I

, "The more suffering for Christ in this world, the more will be the glory with Christ in the next. Thou hast crowned him with honour and glory, O Lord! In memory everlasting he will be just." Another carving (No. 26), of April 22, 1559, concludes thus: "There is an end{130} of all things, and the ende of a thing is better than the beginin. Be wyse and pacyente in troble, for wysdom defends the as well as mony. Use well the tyme of prosperite, ande remember the tyme of misfortewn." This inscription bears some resemblance to another of Bailly's (No. 51), where he has recorded on his prison wall that, "The most unhapy man in the world is he that is not pacient in adversities; for men are not killed with the adversities they have, but with the impacience which they suffer.... Hope to the end and have pacience." If any were in need of patience and of hope they were these poor prisoners in the Beauchamp Tower. Another captive, T. Salmon, in 1622 recorded that he had been kept "close prisoner here

d by generations of spectres who have passed from life to death by violent means, and one has also the fear that Macaulay is lingering in some{132} corner and moralising on the pathos of it all. Under the pavement of this church, as was discovered at the 1876 restoration, the victims from the scaffold, of royal blood or otherwise, were very hastily and carelessly interred, at no great depth. The bones of Queen Anne Boleyn were identified and now lie in front of the altar with those of Queen Katherine Howard, and the Dukes of Northumberland and Somerset. Mr. Doyne Bell, describing the discovery of the remains of Anne Boleyn, says, "The forehead and lower jaw were small and especially well formed. The v

USE, AND ENTRANCE TO CHURCH OF S

RANCE TO CHURCH OF ST. PE

lizabeth. The recumbent figures are carved in alabaster. Neither the knight nor his lady was buried in the church. Sir Richard held the position of Lieutenant of the Tower in Henry VII.'s reign. Lord de Ros, the last Deputy-Lieutenant of the Tower, and author of a valuable record of its history, who died in 1874, has a memorial here. It was owing to his care that the tombstone covering the grave of Talbot