Chapter 6

‘Nor are thy lips ungraceful, Sire of men,Nor tongue ineloquent.—But thy relation now; for I attend,Pleased with thy words no less than thou with mine.’”“After the deep reading and extensive knowledge,” returned I, “which you, Mr. Postern, have displayed in your discourse, it is unfortunate for me to have to speak upon a subject, where I am no less perplexed by the paucity of materials, than by my own ignorance of many which may be in existence. For you must know, my fellow-antiquary, that searching out the origin and history of a ballad, is like endeavouring to ascertain the source and flight of December’s snow;since it often comes we know not whence, is looked upon and noticed for awhile, is corrupted, or melts away, we know not how, and thus dies unrecorded, excepting in the oral tradition or memory of some village crones, who yet discourse of it. However, Sir, to proceed methodically, I will first give you the words of this very popular song; then the customs and history connected with it; and, lastly, the musical notation to which it is most commonly sung.“One of the most elegant copies of this ballad you will find in the late Joseph Ritson’s rare and curious volume, entitled, ‘Gammer Gurton’s Garland: or the Nursery Parnassus. A choice collection of pretty Songs, and Verses, for the amusement of all little good children who can neither read nor run.’ London, 1810. 8vo. Part i., page 4; where it is called ‘The celebrated song of London Bridge is broken down;’ and is as follows:‘London Bridgeis broken down,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;London Bridge is broken down,With a gay lady.How shall we build it up again,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;How shall we build it up again?With a gay lady.Silver and gold will be stolen away,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Silver and gold will be stolen away,With a gay lady.Build it up with iron and steel,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Build it up with iron and steel,With a gay lady.Iron and steel will bend and bow,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Iron and steel will bend and bow,With a gay lady.Build it up with wood and clay,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Build it up with wood and clay,With a gay lady.Wood and clay will wash away,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Wood and clay will wash away,With a gay lady.Build it up with stone so strong,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Huzza! ’twill last for ages long,With a gay lady.’“In that treasury of singular fragments, the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine,’ for September, 1823, volume xciii., page 232, there is another copy of this ballad, with some variations, inserted in a Letter, signed M. Green, in which there are the following stanzas, wanting in Ritson’s, and coming in immediately after the third verse, ‘Silver and gold will be stolen away;’ though it must be observed, that the propositions for building the Bridge with iron and steel, and wood and stone, have, in this copy also, already been made and objected to.‘Then we must set a man to watch,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Then we must set a man to watch,With a gay La-dee.Suppose the man should fall asleep,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Suppose the man should fall asleep,With a gay La-dee.Then we must put a pipe in his mouth,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Then we must put a pipe in his mouth,With a gay La-dee.Suppose the pipe should fall and break,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Suppose the pipe should fall and break,With a gay La-dee.Then we must set a dog to watch,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Then we must set a dog to watch,With a gay La-dee.Suppose the dog should run away,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Suppose the dog should run away,With a gay La-dee.Then we must chain him to a post,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Then we must chain him to a post,With a gay La-dee.’“I pray you, do not fail to observe in these verses, how singularly and happily the burthen of the song often falls in with the subject of the new line: thoughI am half inclined to think, that the whole ballad has been formed by many fresh additions, in a long series of years, and is, perhaps, almost interminable when received in all its different versions. Mr. Green, in his letter which I last quoted, remarks that, the stanzas I have repeated to you are ‘the introductory lines of an old ballad, which, more than seventy years previous, he had heard plaintively warbled by a lady, who was born in the reign of Charles the Second, and who lived till nearly that of George the Second.’ Another Correspondent to the same Magazine, whose contribution, signed D, is inserted in the same volume, December, page 507, observes, that the ballad concerning London Bridge formed, in his remembrance, part of a Christmas Carol, and commenced thus:‘Dame, get up and bake your pies,On Christmas day in the morning:’‘The requisition,’ he continues, ‘goes on to the Dame to prepare for the feast, and her answer is‘London Bridge is broken down,On Christmas day in the morning.’‘The inference always was, that until the Bridge was rebuilt, some stop would be put to the Dame’s Christmas operations; but why the falling of a part of London Bridge should form part of a Christmas Carol at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, I am at a loss to know.’ This connection has, doubtless, long since been gathered into the‘wallet which Time carries at his back, wherein he puts alms for oblivion;’ though we may remark, that the history and features of the old Bridge of that famous town had a very close resemblance to that of London; as you may find upon reading the Rev. John Brand’s ‘History and Antiquities of the Town and County of the Town of Newcastle-upon-Tyne.’ London, 1789. 4to. volume i., pages 31-53. The chief points of resemblance between these two Bridges, were, that both were founded in the hidden years of remote antiquity; that in each instance wooden Bridges preceded the stone ones; that to each was attached a Chapel dedicated to St. Thomas; that continual dilapidations and Patents for repair characterised each; that both formed a street of houses, having towers, gates, and drawbridges; and, finally, that in 1771, a violent flood reduced the Bridge of Tyne to the same hapless state as erst marked that of London, when ruinated by the terrible fire of 1757. Such, Mr. Postern, are the words, and such are the very few historical notices that I am able to give you, of a song, of which there is, perhaps, not a single dweller in the Bills of Mortality, who has not heard somewhat; and yet not one of whom can tell you more concerning it, than that they have heard it sung ‘many years ago,’ as the gossiping phrase is. If one might hazard a conjecture concerning it, I should refer its composition to some very ancient date, when London Bridge lying in ruins, the office of Bridge Master was vacant; and his power over the River Lee—for it is doubtless that River which iscelebrated in the chorus to this song,—was for a while at an end. But this, although the words and melody of the verses be extremely simple, is all uncertain; and thus, my good Sir, do general traditions float down the stream of Time, without any fixed date; for none regard them as of value enough to record, whilst they are yet known in all their primitive truth. Oh! how many an interesting portion of History has been thus lost! How many a——”“I am glad,” interrupted my visitor at this part of my apostrophe, “to find that I am not theonlyAntiquary who is apt to be led away from narrative to rhetoric; and who is sometimes induced to declaim when he set out to describe. But you were speaking of the melody to this song, Mr. Barbican; now I would fain hear it, if it live in your memory.”“Give me a draught of sack,” said I, taking up the tankard, “and you shall hear it, as well as my feeble voice, now ‘turning again to childish treble,’ Mr. Postern, hath the skill to chaunt it. But look for nothing fine, Mr. Barnaby: here are none of Von Weber’s notes; and, indeed, I know of nothing which so well characterises it, as that fine description of a popular ballad inTwelfth Night:—‘Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;The Spinsters, and the Knitters in the sun,And the free maids that weave their thread with bones,Do use to chaunt it——’”“Come, my good Sir,” replied Mr. Postern, “no more words on’t, but sing, I pray you.”“Then listen,” answered I, clearing my throat to reach the treble C, with which the melody commences; “but you must sing a part of it, as it stands in this paper, Master Barnaby, for it begins with the chorus; and so here follows the ancient Music to the Song and Dance of London Bridge is broken down.”[Listen to MIDI]Chorus.Lon-don Bridge is bro-ken down:Dance o’er my La-dy Lea!Lon-don Bridge is bro-ken down,With a gay La-dee.Solo.How shall we build it up a-gain?Dance o’er my La-dy Lea!How shall we build it up a-gain?With a gay La-dee.“A choice piece of simple melody, indeed,” said Mr. Postern, as I finished the last strain of the solo, “and, certainly, from its extreme plainness, not unlikely to be of some considerable antiquity; but you called it also a dance, Mr. Barbican; pray was it ever adapted to the feet, as well as to the tongue?”“You shall hear, Sir,” returned I, “for I learn from a Manuscript communication, from a Mr. J. Evans, of Bristol, which has been most kindly placed in my hands by the venerable proprietor of the‘Gentleman’s Magazine,’ and which enclosed the notes of the tune we have now concluded; that ‘about forty years ago, one moonlight night, in a street in Bristol, his attention was attracted by a dance and chorus of boys and girls, to which the words of this ballad gave measure. The breaking down of the Bridge was announced as the dancers moved round in a circle, hand in hand; and the question, ‘How shall we build it up again?’ was chaunted by the leader, whilst the rest stood still.’ The same correspondent also farther observes, that it is possible some musical critics may trace in these notes sundry fragments that have sailed down the stream of Time, beginning with ‘Nancy Dawson,’ and ‘A frog he would a wooing go;’ though the Lament of London Bridge is certainly far, very far, anterior to the latter. I cannot, however, imagine, that the air of our ballad has more than a very distant consanguinity with either; for the melody of Nancy Dawson is generally supposed not to be more than sixty years old, about which time its heroine flourished; and the metre of that worthless song is perfectly different, each verse having eight lines instead of four. Now, when Isaac Bickerstaff produced his Opera of ‘Love in a Village,’ he composed his 14th air, in the last Scene of the first Act, to that very tune; for there the Housemaid commences the Finale, and thus it runs:‘I pray ye, gentles, list to me,I’m young, and strong, and clean, you see,I’ll not turn tail to any she,For work, that’s in the county:Of all your house the charge I’ll take,I wash, I scrub, I brew, I bake,And more can do than here I’ll speak,Depending on your bounty.’“Thus, you observe, my good Sir, that the verse has no resemblance at all; and the only similitude of the music lies in a very few notes in the second and third bars of the first and fourth lines. The Adventures of the Frog who went a courting is certainly much more like the ballad of London Bridge; but, in addition to its variations in the latter part, it is quite a modern composition, and, therefore, cannot illustrate the antiquity of that other song, of which it is itself merely a musical parody.”“My hearty thanks are due to you, Mr. Geoffrey Barbican,” began Mr. Postern, as I concluded; “I have to thank you very heartily for the agreeable manner in which you have contrived to carry on the history of London Bridge, whilst I have breathed from continuing my duller detail: and now, let me observe, that having brought you down to the 31st year of the reign of Edward I., 1302, I shall give you a translation of what was, perhaps, his last and fullest Charter to London Bridge, in the form of a Patent of Pontage, or Bridge Tax, granted in 1305, the 34th year of his sovereignty; which is curious, inasmuch as it enumerates so many of the articles of commerce in that day. The original is, of course, inthe Tower, in the Patent Rolls for that year, membrane 25, entitled ‘Pontage for London;’ and the Latin you may see in Hearne’s ‘Liber Niger,’ already cited, volume i., page *478: the English, no very easy matter to discover, is as follows.“‘The King to his beloved the Mayor and Sheriffs, and to his other Citizens of London,—Greeting. Know ye, that in aid of repairing and sustaining the Bridge of London, we grant that from the day of making these presents, until the complete end of the three years next following, the underwritten customs shall, for that purpose, be taken of saleable goods over the Bridge aforesaid, and of those which cross under the same, that is to say:—of everypoise, or weight of cheese,’—namely, 256 pounds,—‘fat of tallow, and butter for sale, one penny. Of every poise of lead, for sale, one farthing. Of every hundred of wax for sale, two pence. Of every hundred of almonds and rice for sale, one penny. Of every hundred of barley corn for sale, one penny. Of every hundred of pepper and ginger, cotewell and cinnamon, Brazil-wood, frankincense, quicksilver, vermillion and verdigrease for sale, two pence. Of every hundred of cinior, alum, sugar, liquorice, syro-montanian aniseed, pion, and orpiment for sale, one penny. Of every hundred of sulphur, orchel, ink, resin, copperas, and calamine stone for sale, one farthing. Of every great frail of figs and raisins for sale, one halfpenny; and of every smaller frail, one farthing. Of every pound of dates, musk nuts, mace, the drug cubebs, saffron, and cotton for sale, one farthing. Ofevery store butt of ginger for sale, one penny. Of every hundred weight of copper, brass, and tin, for sale, one halfpenny. Of every hundred weight of glass for sale, one farthing. Of every thousand of the bestGris, or grey squirrel skins dressed,’—the famous Vaire fur you remember,—‘for sale, twelve pence. Of every thousand of red skins dressed, for sale, six pence. Of every thousand bark-skins for sale, four pence. Of every hundred of rabbits for sale, one halfpenny. For everytimbria’—an ancient Norman law phrase, signifying a certain number of precious skins,—‘of wolves’ skins for sale, one halfpenny. For everytimbriaof coats for sale, one halfpenny. For every twelfth gennet-skin for sale, one halfpenny. For every hundredth sheep-skin of wool for sale, one penny. Of every hundredth lamb-skin and goat-skin for sale, one halfpenny. Of every twelfthalicum,’—a kind of vest with sleeves,—‘for sale, one penny. Of every twelfthBasane,’—this old Norman word, you know, meant either a purse, or shoe, or any thing made of tanned leather,—‘for sale, one halfpenny. Of every quarter of woad,’—the famous blue dye,—‘for sale, one halfpenny. Of everydole,’—a Saxon word signifying a part or portion,—‘of honey for sale, six pence. Of every dole of wine, six pence. Of every dole of corn, crossing over the Bridge, the same going into countries beyond the sea, one penny. Of every bowl of salt for sale, one penny. Of every mill-stone for grinding, for sale, two-pence. Of every twelfth hand-mill for sale, one penny. Of every smith’s mill for sale,’—perhaps a forge or a grindstone,—‘one farthing. Of every doleof ashes and of fish for sale, one halfpenny. Of every hundredth board of oak, coming from parts beyond the seas for sale, one halfpenny. Of every hundred of fir boards, coming from parts beyond the seas for sale, two pence. Of every twenty sheafs of wooden staves and arrow heads, for sale, one halfpenny. Of a quarter of a hundred of pountandemir for sale, one penny. For all horses laden with serge, stuff, grey cloth and dyed cloth for sale, one penny. Of every hundred ells of linen cloth, coming from parts beyond the seas, for sale, one penny. Of every twelfth poplorum,’—mantle or carpet,—‘for sale, one halfpenny. Of every silk or gold cloth, for sale, one halfpenny. Of all satins and cloths worked with gold, two pence. Of every twelfth piece of fustian for sale, one penny. Of every piece of sendal,’—thin Cyprus silk,—‘embroidered, for sale, one farthing; and of every other two sendals for sale, one farthing. Of every pound of woven cloth coming from parts beyond the seas, six pence. Of every hundred pounds weight ofBateria,’—beaten work of metal,—‘namely, of basins, platters, drinking pots, and cups, for sale, one penny. Of all Flanders cloth bound, and embroidered, for sale, two pence. Of everyEstanford,’—a species of cloth made at Stanfort,—‘for sale, from the same parts, one penny. Of every twelfth pair of nether-stocks, for sale, coming from the same parts, one halfpenny. Of every hood for sale, one penny. Of every piece of Borrell,’—coarse cloth,—‘coming from Normandy, or elsewhere, one halfpenny. Of every twelfth Monk’s cloth, black or white, onepenny. Of every trussell cloth,’—perhaps a horse-cloth—‘for sale, the same coming from parts beyond the seas, eighteen pence. Of all English dyed cloth and russet for sale, excepting scarlet, crossing the Bridge for the selling of the same, two pence. Of all scarlets for sale, six pence. Of all thin, or summer cloth, for sale, coming from Stamford or Northampton, or from other places in England, crossing the same, one penny. Of every twelfthchalonum,’—which is to say, a carpet or hangings,—‘set for sale, one penny. Of every pound of other merchandise for sale, crossing the same, and not expressed above, four pence. Of every ship-load of sea-coal for sale, six pence. Of every ship-load of turf for sale, two pence. Of every scitata of underwood for sale, two pence. Of every small boat-load of underwood for sale, one penny. Of every scitata of hay for sale, two pence. Of every quarter of corn for sale crossing the same, one farthing. For two quarters of white corn, barley, mixed corn, pease, and beans, for sale, one farthing. For a quarter of aseme,’—a horse load, or eight bushels—‘of oats for sale, one penny. For two quarters of groats, and brewers’ grains for sale, one farthing. For every horse for sale, of the price of forty shillings and more, one penny. For every horse for sale, of a price less than forty shillings, one halfpenny. For every ox and cow for sale, one halfpenny. For six swine for sale, one halfpenny. For ten sheep for sale, one halfpenny. For five bacon hogs for sale, one halfpenny; and for ten pervis for sale, one halfpenny. Of every smallboat which works in London for hire, and crosses by the same, one penny. Of every cart freighted with fish for sale, crossing the same, one penny. For the hull of every great ship freighted with goods for sale, excepting these present, crossing by the same, two pence. For the hull of every smaller ship freighted with the same goods, excepting these present, one penny. For every little boat loaden, one halfpenny. For every twelfth salted salmon for sale, one penny. For twenty-five milnell for sale, one halfpenny. For one hundred salted haddocks for sale, one halfpenny. For one hundred salted mackerel for sale, one farthing. For every thousand of salted herrings for sale, one farthing. For every twelfth salted lamprey for sale, one penny. Of every thousand salted eels for sale, one halfpenny. Of every hundred pounds of large fish for sale, one penny. Of every hundred pieces of sturgeon for sale, two pence. For every hundred of stockfish, one farthing. For every horse-load of onions for sale, one farthing. For every horse-load of garlick for sale, one farthing. And of every kind of merchandise not here mentioned, of the price of twenty shillings, one penny. And, therefore, we command you, that the said customs be taken, until the aforesaid term of three years be completed; but at that term, the aforesaid customs shall cease, and be altogether taken away. In which, &c. for their lasting the term aforesaid, Witness the King, at Winchester, the seventh day of May. By writ of Privy Seal.’“Such, Mr. Geoffrey Barbican, is a tolerably exact translation of this long and very curious Patent of Pontage for London Bridge; but a perfect rendering of it into English is a matter attended with more than usual difficulty; since it is composed of so many barbarous Anglo-Norman nouns, with Latin terminations attached to them; of quaint legal phrases, of which Fortescue and Rastall must be the interpreters; and of numerous articles of which both the names and the nature are to us almost utterly unintelligible. However, Sir, I here give it you to the best of my poor skill; and in doing so, let me add to it the apologetical words of your namesake and fellow citizen, the amiable old Chaucer;—‘Now pray I to them all that hearken this treatise, or rede, that if there be any thing that liketh them, that thereof they thank Him, of whom proceedeth all wit and goodness. And if there be any thing that displease them, I pray them also that they arrette it to the default of mine unknonnyng, and not to my will, that would fain have said better if I had knowing.’”“Doubtless, Mr. Postern,” answered I, “my civilities are at the least due to you, for the labour you bestow upon me; but yet I must be so plain as to tell you, that your Pontage Patent reminded me mightily of a Table of Tolls at a Turnpike-Gate, whereon we read ‘For every horse, mare, gelding, or mule, laden or unladen, not drawing, two pence,’ So again, and again, I say, let me have stories, man! I want stories! ‘for,’ as Oliver Goldsmith said of old to the Ghost ofDame Quickly, ‘if you have nothingbut tedious remarks to communicate, seek some other hearer, I am determined to hearken only to stories.’”“Be of a sweet temper, however you may be disappointed, Mr. Geoffrey,” replied the old Gentleman; “if I possessed the wit either of honest Oliver, or the Ghost of Mistress Quickly, you should, indeed, be entertained; but, seeing that we lack humour, we must make it up in the real, though somewhat dull, formula of past days. This time, I have, however, a romantic scene for youin petto, and even now we have arrived at a point of the history of London Bridge, which, when skilfully managed, with a little fiction, has drawn tears from many an eye, and awakened an interest in many a heart: I mean the capture and death of the brave and unfortunate Sir William Wallace.‘Joy, joy in London now!He goes, the rebel Wallace goes to death;At length the traitor meets a traitor’s doom.Joy, joy in London now!’“It was after the return of the fourth expedition of King Edward I. into Scotland, about the beginning of August, 1305, that London Bridge was defaced, by the placing upon it the trophies of his vengeance. Matthew of Westminster, in his ‘Flowers of Histories,’ which I have already cited to you, tells the sorrowful story of Sir William Wallace’s execution,in his Second Book, page 451; beginning at ‘Hic vir Belial,’—for he treats the Scottish hero with but little reverence,—and in plain English thus runs the narrative. ‘This man of Belial, after innumerable crimes, was at last taken by the King’s officers, and, by his command, was brought up to be judged by himself, attended by the Nobles of the kingdom of England, on the Vigil of St. Bartholomew’s day,’—the 23rd of August,—‘where he was condemned to a most cruel, yet most worthy death. Firstly, he was drawn at the tail of a horse through the fields of London, to a very lofty gibbet, erected for him, upon which he was hung with a halter; afterwards, he was taken down half dead, embowelled, and his intestines burned by fire; lastly, his head was cut off, and set upon a pole on London Bridge, whilst the trunk was cut into four quarters. His body, thus divided, was sent into four parts of Scotland. Behold! such was the unpitied end of this man, whom want of pity brought to such a death!’“The head of the gallant but ill-fated Wallace was not, however, the only ghastly spectacle upon London Bridge; for the Catalogue of the Harleian Manuscripts, under the Number 2253, has the following notice at article 25:—‘A long Ballad against the Scots, many of whom are here mentioned by name, as also many of the English, besides the King and Prince. But, particularly of William Walleys, taken at the Battle of Dunbar, A. D. 1305, and of Simon Frisell,—or Fraser,—taken at the Battle of Kyrkenclyf, A. D. 1306,both of whom were punished as traitors to our King Edward I. and their heads set among others of their countrymen upon London Bridge.’ The passage which immediately concerns our purpose, you will find at folio 61 a, and, in its own rude dialect, thus it runs:—“‘With feters and with gyues ichot he wos to drowe,Ffrom the tour of Londone that monie myght knowe,Jn a curtel of burel aselkethe wyseThurh Cheepe;And a gerland on hys heued of the newe guyse:Monimon of Engelond—for to se SymondThideward con lepe.Tho he com to galewes, furst he wos an honge,Al qc. beheued, thah him thohte longe;Seththe he was yopened, is boweles ybrend,The heued to londone brugge wos sendTo shonde;So ich ever motethe—sum while wende heTher lutel to stonde.He rideth thourth the site as J tell may,With gomen and with solas that wos here play,To londone brugge hee nome the way;Moni was the wyues chil’ that ther on loketh a day,And seide alas!That he was ibore—and so villiche forloreSo feir mon as he wos!Now stont the heued above the tubrugge,Fast bi Waleis soth for to sugge.’“Now, Mr. Geoffrey Barbican, as these barbarous rhymes are but just intelligible, even to an Antiquary, by a very careful reading and consideration, you will,I dare say, excuse me, if I give you a paraphrase of them in modern prose; which would be expressed somewhat in this manner.—With fetters and with leg-irons I wot that he was drawn from the Tower of London that many might know it; dressed in a short coat of coarse cloth, through Cheapside, having on his head a garland of the last fashion; and many Englishmen, to see Simon Frisel, began to run thither. Then was he brought to the gibbet, and first being hung, he was also beheaded, which he thought it long ere he endured it. After, he was opened, and his bowels burned; but his head was sent to London Bridge, to affright beholders: so ever might I thrive, as that once he little thought to stand there. He rides through the City, as I may well tell you, with game and gladness around him, which was the rejoicing of his enemies, and he took the way to London Bridge. Many were the wives’ children that looked upon him, and said, Alas, that he was born! and so vilely forsaken, so terrible a man as he was! Now the head stands above the Town bridge, close to that of Wallace, truly to say.“Such is this ballad account of the matter; and, in quitting my notice of the manuscript that contains it, I have but to say that, it is written on old discoloured parchment, in a square gothic text, the ink of which is turned brown by time, with many contractions, and much vile spelling; and that its other contents are all exceedingly curious and valuable; and, as the ‘Harleian Catalogue,’ volume i., at page 585,tells us, they are ‘partly in old French, partly in Latin, and partly in English, partly in verse, and partly in prose.’ You will find, however, the whole of this long Poem printed in the late Joseph Ritson’s interesting volume, entitled, ‘Ancient Songs from the time of King Henry the Third to the Revolution,’ London, 1790, 8vo., pages 5-18. Maitland himself also relates the fate of Sir William Wallace, at page 109 of his ‘History,’ verifying his narrative by references to several of the Cloisteral Historians; nor does there, I believe, exist any earlier notice of the Tower on London Bridge having been used for the terrific purpose of exhibiting the heads of such as were executed for High Treason, which procured for it the name of Traitors’ Gate. You will remember I have already proved that edifices were standing upon London Bridge at a very early period; and, were it required, here is an additional proof of it, not to be disputed. Stow, when he is speaking of the Towers upon the Bridge, in his ‘Survey,’ volume i., pages 61 and 64, gives us not a word concerning their age, so of that I must treat hereafter, when we come down to the years in which they were repaired, or rebuilt; and I will, therefore, here remark only, that the heads were at this time erected on a Tower at the North end, and that they were not removed to the Southern extremity, where they so long remained, until about the year 1579.“I am foryoursake, my good friend, truly sorry that my next notice of London Bridge must be anotherPatent Roll, of the 14th year of King Edward II.,—1320,—Part the First, Membrane the 19th; but, it shews, at any rate, the state of the edifice in that year: and you will find it referred to in Stow’s ‘Survey,’ volume i., page 60; in Maitland’s ‘History,’ volume i., page 47; in the original Latin in Hearne’s ‘Liber Niger,’ volume i., page *477; and in English it ran as follows.“‘Concerning the subsidies of the Messengers for the work of the Bridge of London, complaining to be admitted.“‘The King to the Archbishops, Bishops, Abbots, Priors, Rectors, and all other Ministers of the Holy Mother Church, to whom these presents shall come,—Greeting. Seeing that, even now, so many evils,—not only in the loss of goods, but that innumerable bodies of men are in peril through the ruin of the Bridge at London,—are likely soon to come to pass, if that they should not be taken away: we, being willing to provide against this kind of dangers, and to take care of the public and private interests, do desire you, when the keepers of the costly work of the Bridge aforesaid, or their messengers, whom we undertake specially to protect and defend, shall come to collect every where throughout your Dioceses, Rectories, or any other of your jurisdictions, aids for the said work from the pious and the devout, you do, in friendship, admit them, from the contemplation of God, the regard of charity, and for evidence of devotion in this matter: admitting them to excite the people bytheir pious persuasions, and charitably to invoke the assistance of their alms for the reparation of the Bridge aforesaid. Not bringing upon them, nor permitting to be brought upon them, any injuries, molestations, damage, impediment, or grievance. And if any thing shall have been forfeited by them, amends shall be made without delay. In testimonial of which, &c. Witness the King, at Langele, the Thirteenth day of August.’“A much more curious instrument than this, however, is recorded on the Patent Rolls of the 17th Year of Edward II.,—1323,—Part the Second, Membrane 9; inasmuch as it particularises several parts of the Bridge property in the ancient Stocks Market, of which we should now be without the knowledge, if it had not been for the careful enumeration of them which is here contained. You will see, that this confirmatory instrument has particular reference to one which I have already rehearsed to you, and that it is of that kind, commonly called anInspeximus, from the Latin word used in their commencement, meaning, ‘we have seen,’ because the words of the original Charter are there repeated. This Patent is entitled ‘For the Keepers of the Bridge of London;’ the original Latin may be seen on page *482 of Hearne’s ‘Liber Niger,’ volume i.; and the English of it runs in the following terms.“‘The King to all to whom, &c. Greeting. We have seen a Charter belonging to the Mayor, Aldermen, and Commonalty of the City of London,written in these words.—‘To all the faithful in Christ to whom these present letters shall come, Hamo de Chiggewell, Mayor, the Aldermen, and the whole Commonalty of the City of London, Greeting:’ Know ye that as the Lord Edward, formerly King of England, of famous memory, father of our Lord the King that now is, in the tenth year of his reign, granted for himself and his heirs, to Henry le Waleys, then Mayor, and the Commonalty of the City aforesaid, that those places contiguous to the wall of the burial-place of the Church of Wolchurch, on the North part of the Parish of the same Church, should be built upon and rented for the support of the Bridge of London, according as they should see to be expedient for their commodity, and that of this great City; and that the said places, so built upon and rented, should be held by themselves, and their heirs, for the support of the Bridge aforesaid, for ever, even as in the aforesaid letters is fully contained. And the before-mentioned Henry, the Mayor, and the Commonalty of the City aforesaid, for the common profit of their City, have built and constructed that house upon the places aforesaid, and have called it the Stokkes, and they have ordained the same for the Butchers and Fishmongers selling therein, as in a place situated nearly in the midst of the City; and the rents from the stalls are assigned for the increasing and support of the aforesaid Bridge. For the Stalls of the Butchers, and of the Fishmongers, may not be permitted, excepting, namely, in thebroad way of Bridge Street, of East Cheap, and in the way of Old Fish Street, and the Butcher Row on the West, in the Parish of St. Nicholas; even as it was anciently accustomed to be, according to the ordinance and disposal of the aforesaid Henry, and the then Common Council of the City aforesaid, as in this part we have seen fully to be preserved: at which time the Butchers and Fishmongers sold their flesh and fish in the same, and in none other of the contiguous places and neighbourhoods, excepting the streets before mentioned, and the rents of the said stalls were carried to the keepers of the said Bridge, who, for a time, returned them in aid of the support of the said Bridge. But we, the aforesaid Mayor and Aldermen, lately receiving the complaint of John Sterre and Roger Atte-Wynne, Keepers of the Bridge aforesaid, that the Butchers and Fishmongers of the City aforesaid, who ought to stand to sell their flesh and fish in the place aforesaid, have accustomed themselves to diminish the rents of the aforesaid, contriving another stall for selling their flesh and fish, at the top of King Street, and in other contiguous places and neighbourhoods without the house aforesaid, that such persons for stalls existing within the house aforesaid, pay nothing, against the ordinance in this article formerly provided; and by their own authority they have prepared, and have sold their flesh and fish; by which the rents aforesaid, on which, in great part, the maintenance of the aforesaid Bridge exists, will be immensely reduced. Uponwhich the said keepers supplicate us for their remedy, to be by us applied. And we having considered this, whether that such kinds of sales may any longer be tolerated in the Bridge aforesaid, and in the aforesaid City, as, to all crossing by that Bridge, peril and damage may manifestly happen: and also this, that our Lord the King, by his writ, hath given it in command, that those things which in the premises are least according to custom, and against the aforesaid ordinance, should be attempted to be corrected and amended, and in their original state rebuilt,—we should build. And being willing to provide against such kinds of damages and perils, and to be obedient in all things to the commands of our Lord aforesaid, we have caused to be called before us the Butchers and Fishmongers aforesaid, and also those that have sold their flesh and fish in other contiguous places and neighbourhoods, without the house aforesaid, against the aforesaid ordinance; and in the discourse which we have held, there was nothing which they have said in this matter, nor have known to be said, by which the said ordinance ought to be invalidated, but they have petitioned that the ordinance and agreement formerly made in this article, might be observed. We therefore looked at the ordinance for this kind of sales, and the ancient customs, and saw the agreement of the aforesaid Henry le Waleys, then Mayor, concerning this kind of sales, made and ordained by the consent of the whole Commonalty; and by our general consent, and that of the wholeCommonalty aforesaid, we have agreed, and granted, that the aforesaid ancient ordinances and agreements concerning this kind of sales, be, for the future, firmly and permanently established: so that if any shall have offended, or have spoken against the aforesaid ancient ordinances and customs, they shall, firstly, lose the thing exposed for sale; and, secondly, they shall lose the liberty of the aforesaid City, according to the laws and customs of the same City, as hath been anciently accustomed to be done. And because it is useful that we revolve excellent things which are departed, and ancient things lying obscured to lead into light, that by the same the memory of perishable matters may be recalled to sense, and offenders themselves be made to abstain from evil actions on account of their perpetual memory, for the strengthening of these presents we have caused to be attached to them the Common Seal of our City aforesaid, under the custody of the aforesaid keepers, and of the succeeding keepers, who, for the time, have been, and are for ever to be preserved. Given in Guildhall, London, before the Mayor, Aldermen, and Commonalty aforesaid, on Saturday next after the Feast of Saint Valentine,’—February the 14th,—‘in the seventeenth Year of the reign of King Edward the son of King Edward.—We have also granted and confirmed the ordinances, agreements, contracts, and grants aforesaid, and all other things contained in the aforesaid writing, having established and acknowledged them for us and our heirs, so much as in uslies, as the aforesaid writing may fairly witness. In testimony of which, &c. Witness the King, at the Tower of London, the 16th day of June. For a fine of ten marks:’—that is to say the sum of £6. 13s.4d.“Before entering upon the tumultuous reign of Richard II. I must observe to you, Mr. Barbican, that in the Patent Roll for the 42nd of Edward III.—1368,—Membrane 21, there is a sort of memorandum of a transfer of a piece of ground from the Friars Minors for the support of London Bridge, the title of which is couched in the following terms: ‘The Guardians of the Friars Minors of London remit for ever to the Mayor, &c. of London, one portion of land on the Southern side of the Church within Newgate, in London, for the support of the Bridge at London, they giving for the same, to the Abbot of Westminster, the sum of four shillings, the which is contained in divers covenants: the King hath confirmed it.’“Well!” said I to Mr. Postern, on his conclusion of these Patents, “this succession of your dull and never-ending Charters would weary the patience of the most phlegmatic Dutch Lawyer that ever studied at Leyden. Come there any more of them, my honest friend? or may we yet look out for land, after so long tossing in the wide sea of the Tower Records?”“Tranquillise your perturbed feelings, my good Sir,” replied Mr. Barnaby,“for we are now drawing very rapidly towards that time, when we can give only mere facts, and descriptive scenes of history, unsupported by any of those curious and unquestionable proofs which these evidences furnish. Not but that there are, doubtless, yet many scores of most interesting papers and Charters concerning this Bridge, preserved in the Close Rolls, the ‘Rotuli Chartarum,’ the Patent Rolls, and the vast body of the Records of this kingdom: but life is too short, and the search would be too long, to discover them all; though I would, for your sake, that I knew them better, and could delight your ears with their recital.”“God forbid! Mr. Postern,” ejaculated I, “that you should bestow all your tediousness upon me! for truly, from that which you have recited, I have some conception of what the whole must be; and I would rather entreat you now to pass on to some of those same ‘facts, and descriptive scenes of history,’ which you seem to undervalue so much, because they do not drag a wearisome Patent Roll after them. Therefore once more, Master Barnaby, I say, give me a tale.”“Well,” returned he, “as we have now arrived at rather an eventful period, perhaps you will begin to be more gratified; and here let me remark that the gate of London Bridge being so advantageous, as well as so immediate, an entrance into the very heart of the City, was too often the favourite passage by which the rebels of ancient days marched into the bowels of our hapless land. I have already given you one instance of this, in speaking of the Baronial Wars of the days of King Henry III.; andnow, when we have arrived at the Year 1381, the 5th of Richard II., we find another melancholy instance of it in the insurrection of Wat Tyler. Stow notices this but very slightly in his ‘Survey,’ volume i., page 61; though in his ‘Annals,’ to which he there refers, page 283, he gives a much more full account of their proceedings on London Bridge, taken chiefly from the ‘Chronicle’ of Thomas Walsingham, a native of Norfolk, and a Monk of St. Albans Abbey, who lived in the time of Henry VI., and died in 1440; his history commencing at the end of the reign of King Henry III. His principal work, entitled ‘Chronica Thomæ Walsingham, quondam Monachi Sancti Albani,’ will be found in William Camden’s ‘Anglica, Normannica, Hibernica, Cambrica, a Veteribus Scripta,’ Frankfurt, 1603, Folio; where, on page 249 you will find his account of it; but, however, we’ll take the English one of old Stow, from the page which I have already cited.“‘On which day,’ says he, meaning Thursday, the Feast of Corpus Christi,—or June the 13th,—‘also in the morning, the Commons of Kent brake downe the stew-houses neare to London Bridge, at that time in the hands of the frowes of Flanders, who had farmed them of the Mayor of London. After which, they went to London Bridge, in hope to have entred the Citty; but the Maior,’—the famous Sir William Walworth, you remember,—‘comming thither before, fortified the place, caused the Bridge to be drawne vp, and fastened a great chaine of yron a crosse, torestraine their entry. Then the Commons of Surrey, who were risen with other, cried to the Wardens of the Bridge to let it downe, whereby they mought passe, or else they would destroy them all, whereby they were constrained for feare to let it down, and give them entry, at which time the religious present,’—perhaps he means the Brethren of the Bridge,—‘were earnest in procession and prayer for peace.’As this fragment of History brought to my recollection a point of Heraldical enquiry, which I had long considered, I here interrupted my visitor, in the following words.“I cannot, Mr. Barnaby Postern, turn from the days of that most notorious rebel, Wat Tyler, without briefly noticing the dispute concerning the Armorial Ensigns of our goodly City, which claim to have had an honourable augmentation arising from the gallantry of the Lord Mayor of that period. If rhyme might pass for reason and argument, we should then be assured of the origin of the City’s Dagger, from the evidence afforded by those verses, which are inscribed beneath Walworth’s effigy in the Fishmongers’ Hall, above us; and which run—

‘Nor are thy lips ungraceful, Sire of men,Nor tongue ineloquent.—But thy relation now; for I attend,Pleased with thy words no less than thou with mine.’”

“After the deep reading and extensive knowledge,” returned I, “which you, Mr. Postern, have displayed in your discourse, it is unfortunate for me to have to speak upon a subject, where I am no less perplexed by the paucity of materials, than by my own ignorance of many which may be in existence. For you must know, my fellow-antiquary, that searching out the origin and history of a ballad, is like endeavouring to ascertain the source and flight of December’s snow;since it often comes we know not whence, is looked upon and noticed for awhile, is corrupted, or melts away, we know not how, and thus dies unrecorded, excepting in the oral tradition or memory of some village crones, who yet discourse of it. However, Sir, to proceed methodically, I will first give you the words of this very popular song; then the customs and history connected with it; and, lastly, the musical notation to which it is most commonly sung.

“One of the most elegant copies of this ballad you will find in the late Joseph Ritson’s rare and curious volume, entitled, ‘Gammer Gurton’s Garland: or the Nursery Parnassus. A choice collection of pretty Songs, and Verses, for the amusement of all little good children who can neither read nor run.’ London, 1810. 8vo. Part i., page 4; where it is called ‘The celebrated song of London Bridge is broken down;’ and is as follows:

‘London Bridgeis broken down,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;London Bridge is broken down,With a gay lady.How shall we build it up again,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;How shall we build it up again?With a gay lady.Silver and gold will be stolen away,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Silver and gold will be stolen away,With a gay lady.Build it up with iron and steel,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Build it up with iron and steel,With a gay lady.Iron and steel will bend and bow,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Iron and steel will bend and bow,With a gay lady.Build it up with wood and clay,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Build it up with wood and clay,With a gay lady.Wood and clay will wash away,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Wood and clay will wash away,With a gay lady.Build it up with stone so strong,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Huzza! ’twill last for ages long,With a gay lady.’

‘London Bridgeis broken down,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;London Bridge is broken down,With a gay lady.

How shall we build it up again,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;How shall we build it up again?With a gay lady.

Silver and gold will be stolen away,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Silver and gold will be stolen away,With a gay lady.

Build it up with iron and steel,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Build it up with iron and steel,With a gay lady.

Iron and steel will bend and bow,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Iron and steel will bend and bow,With a gay lady.

Build it up with wood and clay,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Build it up with wood and clay,With a gay lady.

Wood and clay will wash away,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Wood and clay will wash away,With a gay lady.

Build it up with stone so strong,Dance o’er my Lady Lee;Huzza! ’twill last for ages long,With a gay lady.’

“In that treasury of singular fragments, the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine,’ for September, 1823, volume xciii., page 232, there is another copy of this ballad, with some variations, inserted in a Letter, signed M. Green, in which there are the following stanzas, wanting in Ritson’s, and coming in immediately after the third verse, ‘Silver and gold will be stolen away;’ though it must be observed, that the propositions for building the Bridge with iron and steel, and wood and stone, have, in this copy also, already been made and objected to.

‘Then we must set a man to watch,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Then we must set a man to watch,With a gay La-dee.Suppose the man should fall asleep,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Suppose the man should fall asleep,With a gay La-dee.Then we must put a pipe in his mouth,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Then we must put a pipe in his mouth,With a gay La-dee.Suppose the pipe should fall and break,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Suppose the pipe should fall and break,With a gay La-dee.Then we must set a dog to watch,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Then we must set a dog to watch,With a gay La-dee.Suppose the dog should run away,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Suppose the dog should run away,With a gay La-dee.Then we must chain him to a post,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Then we must chain him to a post,With a gay La-dee.’

‘Then we must set a man to watch,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Then we must set a man to watch,With a gay La-dee.

Suppose the man should fall asleep,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Suppose the man should fall asleep,With a gay La-dee.

Then we must put a pipe in his mouth,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Then we must put a pipe in his mouth,With a gay La-dee.

Suppose the pipe should fall and break,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Suppose the pipe should fall and break,With a gay La-dee.

Then we must set a dog to watch,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Then we must set a dog to watch,With a gay La-dee.

Suppose the dog should run away,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Suppose the dog should run away,With a gay La-dee.

Then we must chain him to a post,Dance o’er my Lady Lea;Then we must chain him to a post,With a gay La-dee.’

“I pray you, do not fail to observe in these verses, how singularly and happily the burthen of the song often falls in with the subject of the new line: thoughI am half inclined to think, that the whole ballad has been formed by many fresh additions, in a long series of years, and is, perhaps, almost interminable when received in all its different versions. Mr. Green, in his letter which I last quoted, remarks that, the stanzas I have repeated to you are ‘the introductory lines of an old ballad, which, more than seventy years previous, he had heard plaintively warbled by a lady, who was born in the reign of Charles the Second, and who lived till nearly that of George the Second.’ Another Correspondent to the same Magazine, whose contribution, signed D, is inserted in the same volume, December, page 507, observes, that the ballad concerning London Bridge formed, in his remembrance, part of a Christmas Carol, and commenced thus:

‘Dame, get up and bake your pies,On Christmas day in the morning:’

‘The requisition,’ he continues, ‘goes on to the Dame to prepare for the feast, and her answer is

‘London Bridge is broken down,On Christmas day in the morning.’

‘The inference always was, that until the Bridge was rebuilt, some stop would be put to the Dame’s Christmas operations; but why the falling of a part of London Bridge should form part of a Christmas Carol at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, I am at a loss to know.’ This connection has, doubtless, long since been gathered into the‘wallet which Time carries at his back, wherein he puts alms for oblivion;’ though we may remark, that the history and features of the old Bridge of that famous town had a very close resemblance to that of London; as you may find upon reading the Rev. John Brand’s ‘History and Antiquities of the Town and County of the Town of Newcastle-upon-Tyne.’ London, 1789. 4to. volume i., pages 31-53. The chief points of resemblance between these two Bridges, were, that both were founded in the hidden years of remote antiquity; that in each instance wooden Bridges preceded the stone ones; that to each was attached a Chapel dedicated to St. Thomas; that continual dilapidations and Patents for repair characterised each; that both formed a street of houses, having towers, gates, and drawbridges; and, finally, that in 1771, a violent flood reduced the Bridge of Tyne to the same hapless state as erst marked that of London, when ruinated by the terrible fire of 1757. Such, Mr. Postern, are the words, and such are the very few historical notices that I am able to give you, of a song, of which there is, perhaps, not a single dweller in the Bills of Mortality, who has not heard somewhat; and yet not one of whom can tell you more concerning it, than that they have heard it sung ‘many years ago,’ as the gossiping phrase is. If one might hazard a conjecture concerning it, I should refer its composition to some very ancient date, when London Bridge lying in ruins, the office of Bridge Master was vacant; and his power over the River Lee—for it is doubtless that River which iscelebrated in the chorus to this song,—was for a while at an end. But this, although the words and melody of the verses be extremely simple, is all uncertain; and thus, my good Sir, do general traditions float down the stream of Time, without any fixed date; for none regard them as of value enough to record, whilst they are yet known in all their primitive truth. Oh! how many an interesting portion of History has been thus lost! How many a——”

“I am glad,” interrupted my visitor at this part of my apostrophe, “to find that I am not theonlyAntiquary who is apt to be led away from narrative to rhetoric; and who is sometimes induced to declaim when he set out to describe. But you were speaking of the melody to this song, Mr. Barbican; now I would fain hear it, if it live in your memory.”

“Give me a draught of sack,” said I, taking up the tankard, “and you shall hear it, as well as my feeble voice, now ‘turning again to childish treble,’ Mr. Postern, hath the skill to chaunt it. But look for nothing fine, Mr. Barnaby: here are none of Von Weber’s notes; and, indeed, I know of nothing which so well characterises it, as that fine description of a popular ballad inTwelfth Night:—

‘Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;The Spinsters, and the Knitters in the sun,And the free maids that weave their thread with bones,Do use to chaunt it——’”

“Come, my good Sir,” replied Mr. Postern, “no more words on’t, but sing, I pray you.”

“Then listen,” answered I, clearing my throat to reach the treble C, with which the melody commences; “but you must sing a part of it, as it stands in this paper, Master Barnaby, for it begins with the chorus; and so here follows the ancient Music to the Song and Dance of London Bridge is broken down.”[Listen to MIDI]Chorus.Lon-don Bridge is bro-ken down:Dance o’er my La-dy Lea!Lon-don Bridge is bro-ken down,With a gay La-dee.Solo.How shall we build it up a-gain?Dance o’er my La-dy Lea!How shall we build it up a-gain?With a gay La-dee.“A choice piece of simple melody, indeed,” said Mr. Postern, as I finished the last strain of the solo, “and, certainly, from its extreme plainness, not unlikely to be of some considerable antiquity; but you called it also a dance, Mr. Barbican; pray was it ever adapted to the feet, as well as to the tongue?”

[Listen to MIDI]Chorus.Lon-don Bridge is bro-ken down:Dance o’er my La-dy Lea!Lon-don Bridge is bro-ken down,With a gay La-dee.Solo.How shall we build it up a-gain?Dance o’er my La-dy Lea!How shall we build it up a-gain?With a gay La-dee.

[Listen to MIDI]

Chorus.

Lon-don Bridge is bro-ken down:Dance o’er my La-dy Lea!Lon-don Bridge is bro-ken down,With a gay La-dee.

Solo.

How shall we build it up a-gain?Dance o’er my La-dy Lea!How shall we build it up a-gain?With a gay La-dee.

“A choice piece of simple melody, indeed,” said Mr. Postern, as I finished the last strain of the solo, “and, certainly, from its extreme plainness, not unlikely to be of some considerable antiquity; but you called it also a dance, Mr. Barbican; pray was it ever adapted to the feet, as well as to the tongue?”

“You shall hear, Sir,” returned I, “for I learn from a Manuscript communication, from a Mr. J. Evans, of Bristol, which has been most kindly placed in my hands by the venerable proprietor of the‘Gentleman’s Magazine,’ and which enclosed the notes of the tune we have now concluded; that ‘about forty years ago, one moonlight night, in a street in Bristol, his attention was attracted by a dance and chorus of boys and girls, to which the words of this ballad gave measure. The breaking down of the Bridge was announced as the dancers moved round in a circle, hand in hand; and the question, ‘How shall we build it up again?’ was chaunted by the leader, whilst the rest stood still.’ The same correspondent also farther observes, that it is possible some musical critics may trace in these notes sundry fragments that have sailed down the stream of Time, beginning with ‘Nancy Dawson,’ and ‘A frog he would a wooing go;’ though the Lament of London Bridge is certainly far, very far, anterior to the latter. I cannot, however, imagine, that the air of our ballad has more than a very distant consanguinity with either; for the melody of Nancy Dawson is generally supposed not to be more than sixty years old, about which time its heroine flourished; and the metre of that worthless song is perfectly different, each verse having eight lines instead of four. Now, when Isaac Bickerstaff produced his Opera of ‘Love in a Village,’ he composed his 14th air, in the last Scene of the first Act, to that very tune; for there the Housemaid commences the Finale, and thus it runs:

‘I pray ye, gentles, list to me,I’m young, and strong, and clean, you see,I’ll not turn tail to any she,For work, that’s in the county:Of all your house the charge I’ll take,I wash, I scrub, I brew, I bake,And more can do than here I’ll speak,Depending on your bounty.’

“Thus, you observe, my good Sir, that the verse has no resemblance at all; and the only similitude of the music lies in a very few notes in the second and third bars of the first and fourth lines. The Adventures of the Frog who went a courting is certainly much more like the ballad of London Bridge; but, in addition to its variations in the latter part, it is quite a modern composition, and, therefore, cannot illustrate the antiquity of that other song, of which it is itself merely a musical parody.”

“My hearty thanks are due to you, Mr. Geoffrey Barbican,” began Mr. Postern, as I concluded; “I have to thank you very heartily for the agreeable manner in which you have contrived to carry on the history of London Bridge, whilst I have breathed from continuing my duller detail: and now, let me observe, that having brought you down to the 31st year of the reign of Edward I., 1302, I shall give you a translation of what was, perhaps, his last and fullest Charter to London Bridge, in the form of a Patent of Pontage, or Bridge Tax, granted in 1305, the 34th year of his sovereignty; which is curious, inasmuch as it enumerates so many of the articles of commerce in that day. The original is, of course, inthe Tower, in the Patent Rolls for that year, membrane 25, entitled ‘Pontage for London;’ and the Latin you may see in Hearne’s ‘Liber Niger,’ already cited, volume i., page *478: the English, no very easy matter to discover, is as follows.

“‘The King to his beloved the Mayor and Sheriffs, and to his other Citizens of London,—Greeting. Know ye, that in aid of repairing and sustaining the Bridge of London, we grant that from the day of making these presents, until the complete end of the three years next following, the underwritten customs shall, for that purpose, be taken of saleable goods over the Bridge aforesaid, and of those which cross under the same, that is to say:—of everypoise, or weight of cheese,’—namely, 256 pounds,—‘fat of tallow, and butter for sale, one penny. Of every poise of lead, for sale, one farthing. Of every hundred of wax for sale, two pence. Of every hundred of almonds and rice for sale, one penny. Of every hundred of barley corn for sale, one penny. Of every hundred of pepper and ginger, cotewell and cinnamon, Brazil-wood, frankincense, quicksilver, vermillion and verdigrease for sale, two pence. Of every hundred of cinior, alum, sugar, liquorice, syro-montanian aniseed, pion, and orpiment for sale, one penny. Of every hundred of sulphur, orchel, ink, resin, copperas, and calamine stone for sale, one farthing. Of every great frail of figs and raisins for sale, one halfpenny; and of every smaller frail, one farthing. Of every pound of dates, musk nuts, mace, the drug cubebs, saffron, and cotton for sale, one farthing. Ofevery store butt of ginger for sale, one penny. Of every hundred weight of copper, brass, and tin, for sale, one halfpenny. Of every hundred weight of glass for sale, one farthing. Of every thousand of the bestGris, or grey squirrel skins dressed,’—the famous Vaire fur you remember,—‘for sale, twelve pence. Of every thousand of red skins dressed, for sale, six pence. Of every thousand bark-skins for sale, four pence. Of every hundred of rabbits for sale, one halfpenny. For everytimbria’—an ancient Norman law phrase, signifying a certain number of precious skins,—‘of wolves’ skins for sale, one halfpenny. For everytimbriaof coats for sale, one halfpenny. For every twelfth gennet-skin for sale, one halfpenny. For every hundredth sheep-skin of wool for sale, one penny. Of every hundredth lamb-skin and goat-skin for sale, one halfpenny. Of every twelfthalicum,’—a kind of vest with sleeves,—‘for sale, one penny. Of every twelfthBasane,’—this old Norman word, you know, meant either a purse, or shoe, or any thing made of tanned leather,—‘for sale, one halfpenny. Of every quarter of woad,’—the famous blue dye,—‘for sale, one halfpenny. Of everydole,’—a Saxon word signifying a part or portion,—‘of honey for sale, six pence. Of every dole of wine, six pence. Of every dole of corn, crossing over the Bridge, the same going into countries beyond the sea, one penny. Of every bowl of salt for sale, one penny. Of every mill-stone for grinding, for sale, two-pence. Of every twelfth hand-mill for sale, one penny. Of every smith’s mill for sale,’—perhaps a forge or a grindstone,—‘one farthing. Of every doleof ashes and of fish for sale, one halfpenny. Of every hundredth board of oak, coming from parts beyond the seas for sale, one halfpenny. Of every hundred of fir boards, coming from parts beyond the seas for sale, two pence. Of every twenty sheafs of wooden staves and arrow heads, for sale, one halfpenny. Of a quarter of a hundred of pountandemir for sale, one penny. For all horses laden with serge, stuff, grey cloth and dyed cloth for sale, one penny. Of every hundred ells of linen cloth, coming from parts beyond the seas, for sale, one penny. Of every twelfth poplorum,’—mantle or carpet,—‘for sale, one halfpenny. Of every silk or gold cloth, for sale, one halfpenny. Of all satins and cloths worked with gold, two pence. Of every twelfth piece of fustian for sale, one penny. Of every piece of sendal,’—thin Cyprus silk,—‘embroidered, for sale, one farthing; and of every other two sendals for sale, one farthing. Of every pound of woven cloth coming from parts beyond the seas, six pence. Of every hundred pounds weight ofBateria,’—beaten work of metal,—‘namely, of basins, platters, drinking pots, and cups, for sale, one penny. Of all Flanders cloth bound, and embroidered, for sale, two pence. Of everyEstanford,’—a species of cloth made at Stanfort,—‘for sale, from the same parts, one penny. Of every twelfth pair of nether-stocks, for sale, coming from the same parts, one halfpenny. Of every hood for sale, one penny. Of every piece of Borrell,’—coarse cloth,—‘coming from Normandy, or elsewhere, one halfpenny. Of every twelfth Monk’s cloth, black or white, onepenny. Of every trussell cloth,’—perhaps a horse-cloth—‘for sale, the same coming from parts beyond the seas, eighteen pence. Of all English dyed cloth and russet for sale, excepting scarlet, crossing the Bridge for the selling of the same, two pence. Of all scarlets for sale, six pence. Of all thin, or summer cloth, for sale, coming from Stamford or Northampton, or from other places in England, crossing the same, one penny. Of every twelfthchalonum,’—which is to say, a carpet or hangings,—‘set for sale, one penny. Of every pound of other merchandise for sale, crossing the same, and not expressed above, four pence. Of every ship-load of sea-coal for sale, six pence. Of every ship-load of turf for sale, two pence. Of every scitata of underwood for sale, two pence. Of every small boat-load of underwood for sale, one penny. Of every scitata of hay for sale, two pence. Of every quarter of corn for sale crossing the same, one farthing. For two quarters of white corn, barley, mixed corn, pease, and beans, for sale, one farthing. For a quarter of aseme,’—a horse load, or eight bushels—‘of oats for sale, one penny. For two quarters of groats, and brewers’ grains for sale, one farthing. For every horse for sale, of the price of forty shillings and more, one penny. For every horse for sale, of a price less than forty shillings, one halfpenny. For every ox and cow for sale, one halfpenny. For six swine for sale, one halfpenny. For ten sheep for sale, one halfpenny. For five bacon hogs for sale, one halfpenny; and for ten pervis for sale, one halfpenny. Of every smallboat which works in London for hire, and crosses by the same, one penny. Of every cart freighted with fish for sale, crossing the same, one penny. For the hull of every great ship freighted with goods for sale, excepting these present, crossing by the same, two pence. For the hull of every smaller ship freighted with the same goods, excepting these present, one penny. For every little boat loaden, one halfpenny. For every twelfth salted salmon for sale, one penny. For twenty-five milnell for sale, one halfpenny. For one hundred salted haddocks for sale, one halfpenny. For one hundred salted mackerel for sale, one farthing. For every thousand of salted herrings for sale, one farthing. For every twelfth salted lamprey for sale, one penny. Of every thousand salted eels for sale, one halfpenny. Of every hundred pounds of large fish for sale, one penny. Of every hundred pieces of sturgeon for sale, two pence. For every hundred of stockfish, one farthing. For every horse-load of onions for sale, one farthing. For every horse-load of garlick for sale, one farthing. And of every kind of merchandise not here mentioned, of the price of twenty shillings, one penny. And, therefore, we command you, that the said customs be taken, until the aforesaid term of three years be completed; but at that term, the aforesaid customs shall cease, and be altogether taken away. In which, &c. for their lasting the term aforesaid, Witness the King, at Winchester, the seventh day of May. By writ of Privy Seal.’

“Such, Mr. Geoffrey Barbican, is a tolerably exact translation of this long and very curious Patent of Pontage for London Bridge; but a perfect rendering of it into English is a matter attended with more than usual difficulty; since it is composed of so many barbarous Anglo-Norman nouns, with Latin terminations attached to them; of quaint legal phrases, of which Fortescue and Rastall must be the interpreters; and of numerous articles of which both the names and the nature are to us almost utterly unintelligible. However, Sir, I here give it you to the best of my poor skill; and in doing so, let me add to it the apologetical words of your namesake and fellow citizen, the amiable old Chaucer;—‘Now pray I to them all that hearken this treatise, or rede, that if there be any thing that liketh them, that thereof they thank Him, of whom proceedeth all wit and goodness. And if there be any thing that displease them, I pray them also that they arrette it to the default of mine unknonnyng, and not to my will, that would fain have said better if I had knowing.’”

“Doubtless, Mr. Postern,” answered I, “my civilities are at the least due to you, for the labour you bestow upon me; but yet I must be so plain as to tell you, that your Pontage Patent reminded me mightily of a Table of Tolls at a Turnpike-Gate, whereon we read ‘For every horse, mare, gelding, or mule, laden or unladen, not drawing, two pence,’ So again, and again, I say, let me have stories, man! I want stories! ‘for,’ as Oliver Goldsmith said of old to the Ghost ofDame Quickly, ‘if you have nothingbut tedious remarks to communicate, seek some other hearer, I am determined to hearken only to stories.’”

“Be of a sweet temper, however you may be disappointed, Mr. Geoffrey,” replied the old Gentleman; “if I possessed the wit either of honest Oliver, or the Ghost of Mistress Quickly, you should, indeed, be entertained; but, seeing that we lack humour, we must make it up in the real, though somewhat dull, formula of past days. This time, I have, however, a romantic scene for youin petto, and even now we have arrived at a point of the history of London Bridge, which, when skilfully managed, with a little fiction, has drawn tears from many an eye, and awakened an interest in many a heart: I mean the capture and death of the brave and unfortunate Sir William Wallace.

‘Joy, joy in London now!He goes, the rebel Wallace goes to death;At length the traitor meets a traitor’s doom.Joy, joy in London now!’

“It was after the return of the fourth expedition of King Edward I. into Scotland, about the beginning of August, 1305, that London Bridge was defaced, by the placing upon it the trophies of his vengeance. Matthew of Westminster, in his ‘Flowers of Histories,’ which I have already cited to you, tells the sorrowful story of Sir William Wallace’s execution,in his Second Book, page 451; beginning at ‘Hic vir Belial,’—for he treats the Scottish hero with but little reverence,—and in plain English thus runs the narrative. ‘This man of Belial, after innumerable crimes, was at last taken by the King’s officers, and, by his command, was brought up to be judged by himself, attended by the Nobles of the kingdom of England, on the Vigil of St. Bartholomew’s day,’—the 23rd of August,—‘where he was condemned to a most cruel, yet most worthy death. Firstly, he was drawn at the tail of a horse through the fields of London, to a very lofty gibbet, erected for him, upon which he was hung with a halter; afterwards, he was taken down half dead, embowelled, and his intestines burned by fire; lastly, his head was cut off, and set upon a pole on London Bridge, whilst the trunk was cut into four quarters. His body, thus divided, was sent into four parts of Scotland. Behold! such was the unpitied end of this man, whom want of pity brought to such a death!’

“The head of the gallant but ill-fated Wallace was not, however, the only ghastly spectacle upon London Bridge; for the Catalogue of the Harleian Manuscripts, under the Number 2253, has the following notice at article 25:—‘A long Ballad against the Scots, many of whom are here mentioned by name, as also many of the English, besides the King and Prince. But, particularly of William Walleys, taken at the Battle of Dunbar, A. D. 1305, and of Simon Frisell,—or Fraser,—taken at the Battle of Kyrkenclyf, A. D. 1306,both of whom were punished as traitors to our King Edward I. and their heads set among others of their countrymen upon London Bridge.’ The passage which immediately concerns our purpose, you will find at folio 61 a, and, in its own rude dialect, thus it runs:—

“‘With feters and with gyues ichot he wos to drowe,Ffrom the tour of Londone that monie myght knowe,Jn a curtel of burel aselkethe wyseThurh Cheepe;And a gerland on hys heued of the newe guyse:Monimon of Engelond—for to se SymondThideward con lepe.Tho he com to galewes, furst he wos an honge,Al qc. beheued, thah him thohte longe;Seththe he was yopened, is boweles ybrend,The heued to londone brugge wos sendTo shonde;So ich ever motethe—sum while wende heTher lutel to stonde.He rideth thourth the site as J tell may,With gomen and with solas that wos here play,To londone brugge hee nome the way;Moni was the wyues chil’ that ther on loketh a day,And seide alas!That he was ibore—and so villiche forloreSo feir mon as he wos!Now stont the heued above the tubrugge,Fast bi Waleis soth for to sugge.’

“Now, Mr. Geoffrey Barbican, as these barbarous rhymes are but just intelligible, even to an Antiquary, by a very careful reading and consideration, you will,I dare say, excuse me, if I give you a paraphrase of them in modern prose; which would be expressed somewhat in this manner.—With fetters and with leg-irons I wot that he was drawn from the Tower of London that many might know it; dressed in a short coat of coarse cloth, through Cheapside, having on his head a garland of the last fashion; and many Englishmen, to see Simon Frisel, began to run thither. Then was he brought to the gibbet, and first being hung, he was also beheaded, which he thought it long ere he endured it. After, he was opened, and his bowels burned; but his head was sent to London Bridge, to affright beholders: so ever might I thrive, as that once he little thought to stand there. He rides through the City, as I may well tell you, with game and gladness around him, which was the rejoicing of his enemies, and he took the way to London Bridge. Many were the wives’ children that looked upon him, and said, Alas, that he was born! and so vilely forsaken, so terrible a man as he was! Now the head stands above the Town bridge, close to that of Wallace, truly to say.

“Such is this ballad account of the matter; and, in quitting my notice of the manuscript that contains it, I have but to say that, it is written on old discoloured parchment, in a square gothic text, the ink of which is turned brown by time, with many contractions, and much vile spelling; and that its other contents are all exceedingly curious and valuable; and, as the ‘Harleian Catalogue,’ volume i., at page 585,tells us, they are ‘partly in old French, partly in Latin, and partly in English, partly in verse, and partly in prose.’ You will find, however, the whole of this long Poem printed in the late Joseph Ritson’s interesting volume, entitled, ‘Ancient Songs from the time of King Henry the Third to the Revolution,’ London, 1790, 8vo., pages 5-18. Maitland himself also relates the fate of Sir William Wallace, at page 109 of his ‘History,’ verifying his narrative by references to several of the Cloisteral Historians; nor does there, I believe, exist any earlier notice of the Tower on London Bridge having been used for the terrific purpose of exhibiting the heads of such as were executed for High Treason, which procured for it the name of Traitors’ Gate. You will remember I have already proved that edifices were standing upon London Bridge at a very early period; and, were it required, here is an additional proof of it, not to be disputed. Stow, when he is speaking of the Towers upon the Bridge, in his ‘Survey,’ volume i., pages 61 and 64, gives us not a word concerning their age, so of that I must treat hereafter, when we come down to the years in which they were repaired, or rebuilt; and I will, therefore, here remark only, that the heads were at this time erected on a Tower at the North end, and that they were not removed to the Southern extremity, where they so long remained, until about the year 1579.

“I am foryoursake, my good friend, truly sorry that my next notice of London Bridge must be anotherPatent Roll, of the 14th year of King Edward II.,—1320,—Part the First, Membrane the 19th; but, it shews, at any rate, the state of the edifice in that year: and you will find it referred to in Stow’s ‘Survey,’ volume i., page 60; in Maitland’s ‘History,’ volume i., page 47; in the original Latin in Hearne’s ‘Liber Niger,’ volume i., page *477; and in English it ran as follows.

“‘Concerning the subsidies of the Messengers for the work of the Bridge of London, complaining to be admitted.

“‘The King to the Archbishops, Bishops, Abbots, Priors, Rectors, and all other Ministers of the Holy Mother Church, to whom these presents shall come,—Greeting. Seeing that, even now, so many evils,—not only in the loss of goods, but that innumerable bodies of men are in peril through the ruin of the Bridge at London,—are likely soon to come to pass, if that they should not be taken away: we, being willing to provide against this kind of dangers, and to take care of the public and private interests, do desire you, when the keepers of the costly work of the Bridge aforesaid, or their messengers, whom we undertake specially to protect and defend, shall come to collect every where throughout your Dioceses, Rectories, or any other of your jurisdictions, aids for the said work from the pious and the devout, you do, in friendship, admit them, from the contemplation of God, the regard of charity, and for evidence of devotion in this matter: admitting them to excite the people bytheir pious persuasions, and charitably to invoke the assistance of their alms for the reparation of the Bridge aforesaid. Not bringing upon them, nor permitting to be brought upon them, any injuries, molestations, damage, impediment, or grievance. And if any thing shall have been forfeited by them, amends shall be made without delay. In testimonial of which, &c. Witness the King, at Langele, the Thirteenth day of August.’

“A much more curious instrument than this, however, is recorded on the Patent Rolls of the 17th Year of Edward II.,—1323,—Part the Second, Membrane 9; inasmuch as it particularises several parts of the Bridge property in the ancient Stocks Market, of which we should now be without the knowledge, if it had not been for the careful enumeration of them which is here contained. You will see, that this confirmatory instrument has particular reference to one which I have already rehearsed to you, and that it is of that kind, commonly called anInspeximus, from the Latin word used in their commencement, meaning, ‘we have seen,’ because the words of the original Charter are there repeated. This Patent is entitled ‘For the Keepers of the Bridge of London;’ the original Latin may be seen on page *482 of Hearne’s ‘Liber Niger,’ volume i.; and the English of it runs in the following terms.

“‘The King to all to whom, &c. Greeting. We have seen a Charter belonging to the Mayor, Aldermen, and Commonalty of the City of London,written in these words.—‘To all the faithful in Christ to whom these present letters shall come, Hamo de Chiggewell, Mayor, the Aldermen, and the whole Commonalty of the City of London, Greeting:’ Know ye that as the Lord Edward, formerly King of England, of famous memory, father of our Lord the King that now is, in the tenth year of his reign, granted for himself and his heirs, to Henry le Waleys, then Mayor, and the Commonalty of the City aforesaid, that those places contiguous to the wall of the burial-place of the Church of Wolchurch, on the North part of the Parish of the same Church, should be built upon and rented for the support of the Bridge of London, according as they should see to be expedient for their commodity, and that of this great City; and that the said places, so built upon and rented, should be held by themselves, and their heirs, for the support of the Bridge aforesaid, for ever, even as in the aforesaid letters is fully contained. And the before-mentioned Henry, the Mayor, and the Commonalty of the City aforesaid, for the common profit of their City, have built and constructed that house upon the places aforesaid, and have called it the Stokkes, and they have ordained the same for the Butchers and Fishmongers selling therein, as in a place situated nearly in the midst of the City; and the rents from the stalls are assigned for the increasing and support of the aforesaid Bridge. For the Stalls of the Butchers, and of the Fishmongers, may not be permitted, excepting, namely, in thebroad way of Bridge Street, of East Cheap, and in the way of Old Fish Street, and the Butcher Row on the West, in the Parish of St. Nicholas; even as it was anciently accustomed to be, according to the ordinance and disposal of the aforesaid Henry, and the then Common Council of the City aforesaid, as in this part we have seen fully to be preserved: at which time the Butchers and Fishmongers sold their flesh and fish in the same, and in none other of the contiguous places and neighbourhoods, excepting the streets before mentioned, and the rents of the said stalls were carried to the keepers of the said Bridge, who, for a time, returned them in aid of the support of the said Bridge. But we, the aforesaid Mayor and Aldermen, lately receiving the complaint of John Sterre and Roger Atte-Wynne, Keepers of the Bridge aforesaid, that the Butchers and Fishmongers of the City aforesaid, who ought to stand to sell their flesh and fish in the place aforesaid, have accustomed themselves to diminish the rents of the aforesaid, contriving another stall for selling their flesh and fish, at the top of King Street, and in other contiguous places and neighbourhoods without the house aforesaid, that such persons for stalls existing within the house aforesaid, pay nothing, against the ordinance in this article formerly provided; and by their own authority they have prepared, and have sold their flesh and fish; by which the rents aforesaid, on which, in great part, the maintenance of the aforesaid Bridge exists, will be immensely reduced. Uponwhich the said keepers supplicate us for their remedy, to be by us applied. And we having considered this, whether that such kinds of sales may any longer be tolerated in the Bridge aforesaid, and in the aforesaid City, as, to all crossing by that Bridge, peril and damage may manifestly happen: and also this, that our Lord the King, by his writ, hath given it in command, that those things which in the premises are least according to custom, and against the aforesaid ordinance, should be attempted to be corrected and amended, and in their original state rebuilt,—we should build. And being willing to provide against such kinds of damages and perils, and to be obedient in all things to the commands of our Lord aforesaid, we have caused to be called before us the Butchers and Fishmongers aforesaid, and also those that have sold their flesh and fish in other contiguous places and neighbourhoods, without the house aforesaid, against the aforesaid ordinance; and in the discourse which we have held, there was nothing which they have said in this matter, nor have known to be said, by which the said ordinance ought to be invalidated, but they have petitioned that the ordinance and agreement formerly made in this article, might be observed. We therefore looked at the ordinance for this kind of sales, and the ancient customs, and saw the agreement of the aforesaid Henry le Waleys, then Mayor, concerning this kind of sales, made and ordained by the consent of the whole Commonalty; and by our general consent, and that of the wholeCommonalty aforesaid, we have agreed, and granted, that the aforesaid ancient ordinances and agreements concerning this kind of sales, be, for the future, firmly and permanently established: so that if any shall have offended, or have spoken against the aforesaid ancient ordinances and customs, they shall, firstly, lose the thing exposed for sale; and, secondly, they shall lose the liberty of the aforesaid City, according to the laws and customs of the same City, as hath been anciently accustomed to be done. And because it is useful that we revolve excellent things which are departed, and ancient things lying obscured to lead into light, that by the same the memory of perishable matters may be recalled to sense, and offenders themselves be made to abstain from evil actions on account of their perpetual memory, for the strengthening of these presents we have caused to be attached to them the Common Seal of our City aforesaid, under the custody of the aforesaid keepers, and of the succeeding keepers, who, for the time, have been, and are for ever to be preserved. Given in Guildhall, London, before the Mayor, Aldermen, and Commonalty aforesaid, on Saturday next after the Feast of Saint Valentine,’—February the 14th,—‘in the seventeenth Year of the reign of King Edward the son of King Edward.—We have also granted and confirmed the ordinances, agreements, contracts, and grants aforesaid, and all other things contained in the aforesaid writing, having established and acknowledged them for us and our heirs, so much as in uslies, as the aforesaid writing may fairly witness. In testimony of which, &c. Witness the King, at the Tower of London, the 16th day of June. For a fine of ten marks:’—that is to say the sum of £6. 13s.4d.

“Before entering upon the tumultuous reign of Richard II. I must observe to you, Mr. Barbican, that in the Patent Roll for the 42nd of Edward III.—1368,—Membrane 21, there is a sort of memorandum of a transfer of a piece of ground from the Friars Minors for the support of London Bridge, the title of which is couched in the following terms: ‘The Guardians of the Friars Minors of London remit for ever to the Mayor, &c. of London, one portion of land on the Southern side of the Church within Newgate, in London, for the support of the Bridge at London, they giving for the same, to the Abbot of Westminster, the sum of four shillings, the which is contained in divers covenants: the King hath confirmed it.’

“Well!” said I to Mr. Postern, on his conclusion of these Patents, “this succession of your dull and never-ending Charters would weary the patience of the most phlegmatic Dutch Lawyer that ever studied at Leyden. Come there any more of them, my honest friend? or may we yet look out for land, after so long tossing in the wide sea of the Tower Records?”

“Tranquillise your perturbed feelings, my good Sir,” replied Mr. Barnaby,“for we are now drawing very rapidly towards that time, when we can give only mere facts, and descriptive scenes of history, unsupported by any of those curious and unquestionable proofs which these evidences furnish. Not but that there are, doubtless, yet many scores of most interesting papers and Charters concerning this Bridge, preserved in the Close Rolls, the ‘Rotuli Chartarum,’ the Patent Rolls, and the vast body of the Records of this kingdom: but life is too short, and the search would be too long, to discover them all; though I would, for your sake, that I knew them better, and could delight your ears with their recital.”

“God forbid! Mr. Postern,” ejaculated I, “that you should bestow all your tediousness upon me! for truly, from that which you have recited, I have some conception of what the whole must be; and I would rather entreat you now to pass on to some of those same ‘facts, and descriptive scenes of history,’ which you seem to undervalue so much, because they do not drag a wearisome Patent Roll after them. Therefore once more, Master Barnaby, I say, give me a tale.”

“Well,” returned he, “as we have now arrived at rather an eventful period, perhaps you will begin to be more gratified; and here let me remark that the gate of London Bridge being so advantageous, as well as so immediate, an entrance into the very heart of the City, was too often the favourite passage by which the rebels of ancient days marched into the bowels of our hapless land. I have already given you one instance of this, in speaking of the Baronial Wars of the days of King Henry III.; andnow, when we have arrived at the Year 1381, the 5th of Richard II., we find another melancholy instance of it in the insurrection of Wat Tyler. Stow notices this but very slightly in his ‘Survey,’ volume i., page 61; though in his ‘Annals,’ to which he there refers, page 283, he gives a much more full account of their proceedings on London Bridge, taken chiefly from the ‘Chronicle’ of Thomas Walsingham, a native of Norfolk, and a Monk of St. Albans Abbey, who lived in the time of Henry VI., and died in 1440; his history commencing at the end of the reign of King Henry III. His principal work, entitled ‘Chronica Thomæ Walsingham, quondam Monachi Sancti Albani,’ will be found in William Camden’s ‘Anglica, Normannica, Hibernica, Cambrica, a Veteribus Scripta,’ Frankfurt, 1603, Folio; where, on page 249 you will find his account of it; but, however, we’ll take the English one of old Stow, from the page which I have already cited.

“‘On which day,’ says he, meaning Thursday, the Feast of Corpus Christi,—or June the 13th,—‘also in the morning, the Commons of Kent brake downe the stew-houses neare to London Bridge, at that time in the hands of the frowes of Flanders, who had farmed them of the Mayor of London. After which, they went to London Bridge, in hope to have entred the Citty; but the Maior,’—the famous Sir William Walworth, you remember,—‘comming thither before, fortified the place, caused the Bridge to be drawne vp, and fastened a great chaine of yron a crosse, torestraine their entry. Then the Commons of Surrey, who were risen with other, cried to the Wardens of the Bridge to let it downe, whereby they mought passe, or else they would destroy them all, whereby they were constrained for feare to let it down, and give them entry, at which time the religious present,’—perhaps he means the Brethren of the Bridge,—‘were earnest in procession and prayer for peace.’

As this fragment of History brought to my recollection a point of Heraldical enquiry, which I had long considered, I here interrupted my visitor, in the following words.

“I cannot, Mr. Barnaby Postern, turn from the days of that most notorious rebel, Wat Tyler, without briefly noticing the dispute concerning the Armorial Ensigns of our goodly City, which claim to have had an honourable augmentation arising from the gallantry of the Lord Mayor of that period. If rhyme might pass for reason and argument, we should then be assured of the origin of the City’s Dagger, from the evidence afforded by those verses, which are inscribed beneath Walworth’s effigy in the Fishmongers’ Hall, above us; and which run—

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