lay asleep in the archiepiscopal manor-house of Wrotham, a certain terrible personage appeared and demanded who he was; in his terror he could answer nothing. "Thou art he," replied the unwelcome visitor, "who hast destroyed the goods of the Church, and I will destroy thee from the face of the earth." With this awful threat he vanished. Next day, as the Archbishop journeyed towards Rochester, he related his disagreeable vision to a friend who accompanied him; and had no sooner ceased speaking than he was suddenly seized with a great cold and rigor in his limbs, and it was with much ado that he got as far as the Bishop of Rochester's house at Hayling. There he took to his bed, and after severe suffering died on the following night.

It is curious that such a story should be told of a prelate of stainless life and gentle manners; more particularly as he was a staunch advocate of the claims of the monks against those of the secular clergy.

The produce of a tax on wool was also given towards the cost of the foundation. Hence the saying "London Bridge was built upon woolpacks."

It was completed in 1207 by three worthy merchants of London, Serle Mercer, William Almaine, and Benedict Boteconte, having been three-and-thirty years in building; and consisted of a platform 926 feet long, 40 feet wide, and about 60 feet above the water-level. It contained a drawbridge and nineteen broad pointed arches, with solid massive piers, raised upon strong elm piles; and was so staunchly and honestly wrought that it stood for upwards of six centuries, though not without suffering serious injury. The narrowness of the arches, I may add, was a serious obstruction to the free course of the river current, and when the tide flowed, being unable to disperse with

sufficient celerity, the waters were dammed up into a kind of sloping rapid, down which the river-craft was hurried with dangerous swiftness. This process of "shooting the bridge" was frequently attended with accidents more or less severe.

A peculiar feature of old London Bridge, with which almost everybody has been made familiar by antique engravings or reproductions of it, was the buildings which lined the narrow roadway on either side, some with their backs projecting over the stream below. The most celebrated was the chapel dedicated to St. Thomas Becket, popularly known as St. Thomas of the Bridge. It crowned the tenth or "great pier," and stood over the parapet on the eastern side, having a pathway about nine feet wide on the western.

The Bridge suffered terribly from fire in 1213. According to Stow, the conflagration originated in Southwark, involving the church of St. Mary Overy; whereupon "an exceeding great number of people" rushed upon the bridge for safety. But by blowing of the south wind the north. part of the bridge caught fire, and the terrified crowd then made to return by the way they had come. Meanwhile, the south end also broke into flames, and the struggling people finding themselves caught between two fires were thrown into a panic of terror.

Numerous vessels and Unfortunately no order

boats hastened to their assistance. could be preserved, and the frightened mass drove headlong, crushing and crowding on board the craft that had moved to their rescue, until they capsized them by their numbers, and all perished. The death-roll on this occasion showed, it is said, a total of three thousand.

In 1263, at the outset of the Barons' War, Queen Eleanor,

desiring to escape from the Tower and seek an asylum at Windsor, set out by water; but just as her barge was preparing to shoot the bridge, the populace from the parapets assailed her with showers of stones and mud, as well as with sharp reproaches and insulting words-for which she probably cared much less-and compelled her to return. Later in the year, Simon de Montfort, at the head of the Barons' army, marched through Southwark in the hope his friends would open to him the bridge-gates. Informed of his design, King Henry hastily quitted the Tower, crossed the bridge, and encamped in Southwark. But the citizens broke open the gates, and hurried to swell De Montfort's forces. The king was compelled to retreat, and De Montfort entered London in triumph. This was the first occasion on which the bridge echoed with the tramp of armed men and the clang of weapons-but not the last.

In 1306, William Wallace, the champion of Scottish Independence, was betrayed into English hands; and loaded with heavy fetters was hurried to London, where he arrived on August 22nd, and was securely lodged in William de Leyse's house in Fenchurch Street. The next day he was mounted on horseback, and with a splendid procession of mayor, sheriffs, and aldermen, and a strong guard, conducted to Westminster Hall. He was mocked with a crown of oak-leaves as suitable to a king of outlaws; and put on his trial as a traitor to the English crown,—“ though that I could never be," exclaimed the hero, "since I was no subject of King Edward's!" As a matter of course, he was found guilty, and sentenced to death. At the tails of horses he was shamefully dragged through the streets to a gibbet standing at the Elms at Smithfield, where he under

went the disgusting barbarities then accompanying an execution for treason. His body was divided into four quarters, which were posted in the public places of four northern cities; and his head was exposed on the tower-gate at the entrance of London Bridge. Such," exclaims Matthew of Westminster, "was the unpitied end of this man”—“hic vir Belial," the chronicler calls him—“ whom want of pity brought to such a death!" In the course of the year his loyal adherent Sir Simon Fraser-Simon Frisell, as the old ballad puts it-was captured and executed, and his head set beside his leader's on the Bridge. Those two heads were the first which were thus subjected to indignity.

In 1381, the year of the insurrection of Wat Tyler, his Kentish followers attempted to force the passage of the Bridge (June 13th), but were anticipated by Sir William Walworth, the Lord Mayor, who hastily fortified it, hauled up the drawbridge, and threw a strong iron chain across, to prevent their passage. Then the populace shouted to the wardens to lower the drawbridge so that they might pass, or else they would destroy them all; whereby Walworth was constrained for fear to let it down and give them entry, at which time the religious present were earnest in procession and prayer for peace."

I mention this incident, because the dagger which figures in the arms of the City of London is often represented as an "honourable augmentation" granted in commemoration of Walworth's gallantry during the Wat Tyler rebellion. Stow, on the contrary, believes it to be the sword used in the martyrdom of St. Paul, who may be regarded as the titular saint of London; others see in it the sword of justice.

But at all events it was included in the civic escutcheon before the reign of Richard II.

THE STORY OF THE PASSAGE-AT-ARMS ON LONDON BRIDGE.

On St. George's Day, April 23rd, 1390, London Bridge was the scene of one of those tourneys, or passages-at-arms, which illustrate with a rude kind of chivalric splendour our mediæval records.

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Scotland and England at the time enjoyed a brief interval of peace, and the knights of both countries availed themselves of the unusual tranquillity to challenge each other to the display of military art and prowess in the tournament. Now it happened that a gallant Englishman, the Lord Wells, then representing King Richard II. at the Court of Edinburgh, was present at a great banquet, where many guests, English and Scotch, discoursed wisely upon valour and in praise of arms. 'Away with this strife of words," he exclaimed, after a while; "and whosoever would make assay of English courage, let his name be declared, and also a time and place be appointed, whenever and wherever ye list, and I am ready." And turning to a Scotch noble, David Lindesay, Earl of Crawford, he added: "I call on thee, who has spent many words against me, and thou shalt cross lance with me rather than all the rest." "Even so," rejoined the earl, "and blithe shall I be, if thou canst obtain the king's consent."

Lord Wells then made petition to the King of Scotland, and he agreeing, the English knight as the challenger selected the place of combat, choosing London Bridge, while the earl named the time, St. George's Day. Thereafter Lord Wells rode back to London, and David Lindesay,