John and Betty's History Visit Part 8

This famous old chair was made in the time of Edward I, and every English sovereign since that day has been crowned in it. Underneath the seat of the chair is kept the ancient Stone of Scone, which is said to have been used as a pillow by the patriarch Jacob. Edward I, in 1297, brought the stone from Scotland as a sign of his power over that country, and placed it in the Abbey. King Edward III's sword and shield-of-state stand beside the chair. There is something about these three objects which makes one stand long before them. They are so ancient--so deeply impressive--and embody so much of English history itself.

In a little room above one of the smaller chapels are found the curious Wax Effigies. These figures made of wax, and of life size, were carried at funerals, and were intended to look like the deceased, and dressed in their clothes. They are very ghastly, robed in their faded, torn garments, as each peers out from its gla.s.s-case. Queen Elizabeth, Charles II, William and Mary, Queen Anne, General Monk, William Pitt, and Lord Nelson are among those represented.

Betty stood before the figure of Queen Elizabeth, whose waxen face is pinched and worn, and really most horrible to look at.

"Didn't she die propped up on the floor in all her State robes?" asked Betty.

"Yes," was Mrs. Pitt's reply. "It isn't any wonder that she looked like that, is it? She is said to have been beautiful in her youth, but later, she became so very ugly that her ladies-in-waiting got false looking-gla.s.ses, for they didn't dare to allow their mistress to see her wrinkles."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "OH, HERE'S THE OLD CORONATION CHAIR, ISN'T IT?"--_Page 113._]

After lingering for a short time in the grand old Abbey, they all mounted a bus and rode down to Bishopsgate Street to take lunch, at Crosby Hall.[A] This splendid old example of a London mediaeval palace (having had a varied career since its great days), is now turned into a restaurant, and our party took seats at a long table in what was once the Banqueting-hall.

[Footnote A: Crosby Hall was taken down in 1908, but is soon to be re-erected in Chelsea, near the site of the home of Sir Thomas More.]

"This is really a very historic old house," declared Mrs. Pitt. "It was built in 1470 by Alderman Sir John Crosby, who died about the time it was finished, and it pa.s.sed into the hands of the Duke of Gloucester, afterwards Richard III. Here, that cruel man had the news of the successful murder of the little Princes in the Tower, and here held his great feasts--in this room, I suppose."

They were all looking about at the lofty hall with its carved oak ceiling, minstrels' gallery, stained-gla.s.s windows, and large fireplace.

"This has recently all been restored, and I suppose it gives us a very slight idea of its past glory. Later on, Sir Thomas More lived here, and then Philip Sidney's sister, the Countess of Pembroke, owned it.

Shakespeare mentions it in his play of 'Richard III,' you know. In mediaeval times, there were many great houses in London (Baynard's Castle and Cold Harbour foremost among them), but all except a little part of Crosby Hall have disappeared. The owners of these houses, the wealthy n.o.bles, lived in great magnificence, having four, six, or even eight hundred servants. Just fancy how large the establishments must have been! In Queen Elizabeth's day, the French Amba.s.sador was lodged here with four hundred retainers. At that time, there were more great palaces in London than there were in Verona, Florence, Venice, and Genoa, all counted together; but instead of being situated on the Grand Ca.n.a.l or in a s.p.a.cious square, the English palaces stood in narrow, filthy streets, surrounded by the poor hovels of the common people.--It seems to me that our lunch is a long time coming," she commented.

Adjoining Crosby Hall is a very interesting church--St. Helen's, which has been called the "Westminster Abbey of the City," because of famous citizens of "the City," who are buried there. Among them is Sir Thomas Gresham, the great merchant of Queen Elizabeth's reign, who founded the Royal Exchange, and did much to increase London's trade. The church--dating mostly from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century--is very quaint and old. It consists of two parallel naves, divided by pillars.

"The church was once connected with an ancient nunnery which covered the whole square outside. The naves were originally quite separated by a part.i.tion; one side was used by the nuns, and the other by the regular members of the parish. Shakespeare once lived in St. Helen's parish, and is charged up on the church books with a sum of something over five pounds." Mrs. Pitt gave this information as they walked about, gradually growing accustomed to the dim light.

"See here, John," whispered Philip; "here's something interesting.

It's this little square hole in the wall, which is called the 'nuns'

squint.' That woman, whom I suppose is the caretaker, has just been telling me what that means. You see, the nunnery was on this side, or, at any rate, the part where the nuns slept. When a nun was dying, the rest would carry her to that little 'squint,' and in that way she could look through to the church and see the altar."

Leaving St. Helen's Place, and pa.s.sing the picturesque, narrow facade (or front) of Crosby Hall, Mrs. Pitt took them along Cheapside, one of the most crowded streets of the city. The amount of traffic is tremendous there, and it is said that sometimes teams are held eight hours in the alleys before they can get out. They noted Bow Church, and the site of John Gilpin's house at the corner of Paternoster Row.

"Oh, is that the John Gilpin in Cowper's poem?" cried John, excitedly.

"He lived here, did he? And where did he ride to?"

"I believe he went out through Tottenham and Edmonton. Mrs. Gilpin was at the Bell Inn at Edmonton when she saw her husband fly by. Over the entrance at the Bell is such a funny picture of the scene! They don't know just where he went, do they, Mother?" inquired Barbara.

"No, I rather think not," was Mrs. Pitt's laughing answer. "Let's walk through Paternoster Row, now. The little bookshops are so old and quaint! For centuries the booksellers have been loyal to this locality, but I hear that they are beginning to move elsewhere now.

Here's Amen Corner, and Ave Maria Lane is not far away. In London, there's a reason for the name of almost every street. The monks, in walking from the river to St. Paul's, used to be telling their beads and reciting their prayers all the while. You see, the Ave Maria was said at this point, and back at the corner came an Amen. In olden days, the makers of rosaries and paternosters had their shops in the little street we have just left, as well as the booksellers. The streets leading off Cheapside show what business was carried on there; for instance, on the south side are Bread, Candles, Soap, Fish, and Money-changing; and on the north side are Wood, Milk, Iron, Honey, and Poultry. By the by, the poet Milton was born in Bread Street. The ironmongers congregated in Ironmongers Lane; the vintners or wine-merchants were in the Vintry; and the makers of hosiery in Hosiery Lane. Now we'll go to Chancery Lane, and pay a short visit to the Record Office, for there are some things there which I want you to see."

The Public Record Office is a modern building, constructed for the purpose of keeping the valuable State doc.u.ments and archives, which, during the present reign, have been moved from the Tower and the Chapter House of Westminster Abbey. The different departments of government are continually handing over to the Record Office papers which are no longer needed for daily use. Among the intensely interesting treasures of this museum are the logbooks of the Royal Navy, and dispatches from Marlborough, Wellington, and others. There are State papers of Wolsey, and Thomas Cromwell, and letters of all the kings and queens, as well as of Chaucer, the Black Prince, Raleigh at the Tower, Lady Jane Grey as Queen, Sir Philip Sidney on his death-bed, and many, many others of equal interest.

"Why, you'd need a whole week to see all these!" exclaimed Betty, looking up from her examination of a paper containing the confessions of Guy Fawkes.

Mrs. Pitt glanced at her quickly. She was excited, and her face was flushed.

"Yes, and we must not stay any longer, for we have seen enough for one day. I want to show you just one more thing before we go, however, and this is more wonderful than all the rest. See, it is the great Doomsday Book!"

Carefully kept under gla.s.s, in cases furnished with dark shades to pull over when the books are not being examined, are the two large volumes of what is known as the "Doomsday Book." On the ancient, yellowed parchment pages, and in strange old characters, are the records, made at the time of William the Conqueror, of the disposal of the lands of England among his Norman n.o.bles. It is simply impossible to believe that it is authentic,--that such a very ancient relic really can exist!

They soon felt tired and ready to leave any further examination of the papers until another visit, however. There are times when all sight-seers, no matter how enthusiastic, come to a point where for that day they can appreciate no more. So our party adjourned to a little tea-shop in Regent Street, and afterwards, to make a few purchases at that fascinating shop,--Liberty's.

CHAPTER TEN

RICHMOND AND HAMPTON COURT PALACE

"Well, I really don't care much how long the boat is in coming,"

exclaimed Betty delightedly. "It's such fun to watch all the other boats going up and down the river, and to look up at busy Westminster Bridge!"

Our friends were at the little landing in the shadow of the above-mentioned bridge, awaiting the arrival of the steamer which was to carry them to Kew Gardens. It was early morning, and the distant roar of the traffic from the great bridge above reached them together with the shrill whistles of all the different river craft.

"Hey! There goes _Sir Walter Raleigh_ under the bridge there! I can see the name just as plainly! And,--well I never!--there come _Lady Jane Grey_ and _Sir Thomas More_! Do all the boats have names like that? Wonder how the great people would like it if they knew! _Sir Thomas_ is an express; he's on official business this morning, and isn't going to stop! Now! here comes _Queen Elizabeth_ herself!

Nothing less than a queen for me! I hope we'll take her!" John cried excitedly.

The _Queen Elizabeth_ did prove to be the Kew and Hampton Court boat, so when the gangway was put across, the five went on board and took some comfortable seats in the bow.

"Now, there are a number of things which I wish to point out to you right away," remarked Mrs. Pitt, "so please be very attentive for a few moments. Just as soon as we are started and go under Westminster Bridge here, you will have the most beautiful view of the Houses of Parliament, on your right. There! See if the great building isn't graceful from here! And isn't its river-front imposing with all the statues of the sovereigns!

"Now! Quickly! Look to the left, and see the building with the gateway and square, blackened towers and battlements. That's Lambeth Palace,"

she added, "which has been the residence of the Archbishops of Canterbury (or the 'Primates of England,' as they are called) for six hundred years. It's a delightful old place, with its fine library, and its several court-yards! It's very historic as well, for in one of those towers, according to some people, the Lollards or followers of the religious reformer, Wycliffe, are said to have been tortured.

Queen Elizabeth's favorite, the unfortunate Earl of Ess.e.x, was imprisoned there, too.

"Here on our left was the famous amus.e.m.e.nt-park, Vauxhall, which was so popular in the eighteenth century. Some day when you read Thackeray's novels you will find it mentioned. There on the right is Chelsea, where was Sir Thomas More's home. I think his grounds bordered on the river, and he used to walk down to the bank, step into his boat, and his son would row him to the city. At his house there he was often visited by Henry VIII, Holbein, and the great Dutch scholar, Erasmus. Just behind those trees is Cheyne Walk, where Thomas Carlyle's house still stands. (There's the old Chelsea Church, which is most interesting, and Chelsea Hospital for old pensioners.) There have been many famous residents of Chelsea in more recent days; among them George Eliot, the great novelist, who died there; Edward Burne-Jones, the artist; Rossetti, the poet; Swinburne, Meredith, and Whistler. There! now I'll leave you in peace to enjoy your boat-ride, and the music."

They now came to a part of the river which is neither especially historic nor attractive, and the young people amused themselves for a while in talking, or listening to the rather crude music of some old musicians on the boat. It was not long, however, before the banks again became green and beautiful, and they pa.s.sed odd little villages, and comfortable country-houses, whose smooth terraces slope down to the river. On the arrival of the boat at Kew, they went on sh.o.r.e and walked towards the celebrated Gardens.

"Have Kew Gardens any story or history to them, or are they just famous because of their flowers?" inquired Betty, as they pa.s.sed through the gateway, and caught glimpses of bright blossoms within.

"Oh, rather!" replied Mrs. Pitt. "You'll find plenty of history about here, Betty. Let's look at the flowers first, though."

Kew Gardens are most immaculately cared for. Wide gravel-paths stretch between the wonderful lawns, which are dotted with flower-beds of all shapes. There are hot-houses containing tropical plants, and in the "Rock Garden" is a pond where there are pelicans and other strange water birds. The party spent an hour very happily in wandering about, admiring the beautiful views as they went. Best of all were the rhododendrons, which were glorious at this season in their riot of pink, deep rose color, and lavender. Betty, who dearly loved flowers, could hardly be enticed away from that fascinating spot, and was only persuaded at mention of the old palace, which she had not yet seen.

When she reached it, she was rather disappointed. Kew Palace is not large, and altogether, is quite unlike a palace, although it was the favorite residence of George III and his queen, who died there in 1818.

"It just looks like any old red-brick Tudor house, which hasn't any history at all. Even its rooms are all empty, and it isn't the kind of a palace I like!" Betty declared in injured tones.

"Well, cheer up, Betty; we're going to Hampton Court Palace soon, and I guess that'll suit you all right. Is this where we take the tram, Mrs. Pitt? There's one coming now!" John ran out into the road and gesticulated frantically, so that the motorman would be sure to stop.

That dignified English personage looked rather surprised, but John did not care. He liked to take the lead, and to make himself useful whenever it was possible.

The ride was not quite as enjoyable as they had hoped, because of a very high wind. Upon their perch at the top of the tram, it required about all their attention to keep their hats and other belongings from blowing away. On the whole, they were quite content to get off at the bridge at Richmond, and walk up the long hill to the famous Star and Garter Inn.

"This hill seems longer than ever to-day, Mother," Barbara complained.

"When we reach that lovely surprise view (you know where I mean), let's sit down and admire it while we rest a bit."