2015년 9월 6일 일요일

The Tower of London 34

The Tower of London 34


To the foregoing hasty sketch, in which we have endeavoured to make the reader acquainted with the general outline of the fortress, we would willingly, did space permit, append a history of the principal occurrences that have happened within its walls. We would tell how in 1234, Griffith, Prince of Wales, in attempting to escape from the White Tower, by a line made of hangings, sheets, and table-cloths, tied together, being a stout heavy man, broke the rope, and falling from a great height, perished miserably--his head and neck being driven into his breast between the shoulders. How Edward the Third first established a Mint within the Tower, coining florences of gold. How in the reign of the same monarch, three sovereigns were prisoners there;--namely, John, King of France, his son Philip, and David, King of Scotland. How in the fourth year of the reign of Richard the Second, during the rebellion of Wat Tyler, the insurgents having possessed themselves of the fortress, though it was guarded by six hundred valiant persons, expert in arms, and the like number of archers, conducted themselves with extraordinary licence, bursting into the king's chamber, and that of his mother, to both of whom they offered divers outrages and indignities ; and finally dragged forth Simon Sudbury, Archbishop of Canterbury, and hurrying him to Tower Hill, hewed off his head at eight strokes, and fixed it on a pole on London Bridge, where it was shortly afterwards replaced by that of Wat Tyler.
 
How, in 1458, jousts were held on the Tower-Green by the Duke of Somerset and five others, before Queen Margaret of Anjou. How in 1471, Henry the Sixth, at that time a prisoner, was said to be murdered within the Tower ; how seven years later, George Duke of Clarence, was drowned in a butt of Malmsey in the Bowyer Tower; and how five years after that, the youthful Edward the Fifth, and the infant Duke of York, were also _said_, for the tradition is more than doubtful, to be smothered in the
 
Blood) Tower. How in 1483, by command of the Duke of Gloucester, who had sworn he would not dine till he had seen his head off, Lord Hastings was brought forth to the green before the chapel, and after a short shrift, "for a longer could not be suffered, the protector made so much haste to dinner, which he might not go to until this were done, for saving of his oath," his head was laid down upon a large log of timber, and stricken off.
 
How in 1512, the woodwork and decorations of Saint John's chapel in the White Tower were burnt. How in the reign of Henry the Eighth, the prisons were constantly filled, and the scaffold deluged with blood. How Sir Richard Empson and Edmund Dudley, the hither of John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, were beheaded. How the like fate attended the Duke of Buckingham, destroyed by Wolsey, the martyred John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, the wise and witty Sir Thomas More, Anne Boleyn, her brother Lord Rochford, Norris, Smeaton, and others; the Marquis of Exeter, Lord Montacute,and Sir Edward Neville ; Thomas, Lord Cromwell, the counsellor of the dissolution of the monasteries; the venerable and courageous Countess of Salisbury; Lord Leonard Grey ; Katherine Howard and Lady Rochford ; and Henry, Earl of Surrey.
 
How, in the reign of Edward the Sixth, his two uncles, Thomas Seymour, Baron Sudley, and Edward Seymour, Duke of Somerset, were brought to the block ; the latter, as has been before related, by the machinations of Northumberland.
 
Passing over, for obvious reasons, the reign of Mary, and proceeding to that of Elizabeth, we might relate how Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, was beheaded ; how the dungeons were crowded with recusants and seminary priests ; amongst others, by the famous Jesuits, fathers Campion and Persons ; how Lord Stourton, whose case seems to have resembled the more recent one of Lord Ferrers, was executed for the murder of the Hartgills ; how Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, shot himself in his chamber, declaring that the jade Elizabeth should not have his estate ; and how the long catalogue was closed by the death of the Earl of Essex.
 
How, in the reign of James the First, Sir Walter Raleigh was beheaded, and Sir Thomas Overbury poisoned. How in that of Charles the First, Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, and Archbishop Laud, underwent a similar fate. How in 1656, Miles Sunderland, having been condemned for high treason, poisoned himself ; notwithstanding which, his body, stripped of all apparel, was dragged at the horse's tail to Tower Hill, where a hole had been digged under the scaffold, into which it was thrust, and a stake driven through it. How, in 1661, Lord Monson and Sir Henry Mildmay suffered, and in the year following Sir Henry Vane. How in the same reign Blood attempted to steal the crown ; and how Algernon Percy and Lord William Russell were executed.
 
How, under James the Second, the rash and unfortunate Duke of Monmouth perished. How, after the rebellion of 1715, Lords Derwentwater and Kenmuro were decapitated ; and after that of 1745, Lords Kilmarnock, Bahnerino, and Lovat. How in 1760, Lord Ferrers was committed to the Tower for the murder of his steward, and expiated his offence at Tyburn. How Wilkes was imprisoned there for a libel in 1762; and Lord George Gordon for instigating the riots of 1780. How, to come to our own times, Sir Francis Burdett was conveyed thither in April 1810 ; and how, to close the list, the Cato-street conspirators, Thistlewood, Ings, and others, were confined there in 1820.
 
The chief officer appointed to the custody of the royal fortress, is termed the Constable of the Tower ;--a place, in the words of Stowe, of "high honour and reputation, as well as of great trust, many earls and one duke having been constable of the Tower." Without enumerating all those who have filled this important post, it maybe sufficient to state, that the first constable was Geoffrey de Mandeville, appointed by William the Conqueror; the last, Arthur, Duke of Wellington. Next in command is the lieutenant, after whom come the deputy-lieutenant, and major, or resident governor. The civil establishment consists of a chaplain, gentleman-porter, physician, surgeon, and apothecary ; gentleman-jailer, yeoman porter, and forty yeomen warders. In addition to these, though in no way connected with the government or custody of the Tower, there are the various officers belonging to the ordnance department ; the keepers of the records, the keeper of the regalia ; and formerly there were the different officers of the Mint.
 
The lions of the Tower--once its chief attraction with the many,--have disappeared. Since the establishment of the Zoological Gardens, curiosity having been drawn in that direction, the dens of the old menagerie are deserted, and the sullen echoes of the fortress are no longer awakened by savage yells and howling. With another and more important attraction--the armories--it is not our province to meddle.
 
 
 
*****
 
 
 
To return to Simon Renard and the warder. Having concluded his recital, to which the other listened with profound attention, seldom interrupting him with a remark, Winwike proposed, if his companion's curiosity was satisfied, to descend.
 
"You have given me food for much reflection." observed Renard, aroused from a reverie into which he had fallen ; "but before we return I would gladly walk round the buildings. I had no distinct idea of the Tower till I came hither."
 
The warder complied, and led the way round the battlements, pausing occasionally to point out some object of interest.
 
Viewed from the summit of the White Tower, especially on the west, the fortress still offers a striking picture. In the middle of the sixteenth century, when its outer ramparts were strongly fortified--when the gleam of corslet and pike was
 
reflected upon the dark waters of its moat--when the inner ballium walls were entire and unbroken, and its thirteen towers reared their embattled fronts--when within each of those towers state prisoners were immured--when its drawbridges were constantly raised, and its gates closed--when its palace still lodged a sovereign--when councils were held within its chambers--when its secret dungeons were crowded--when Tower Hill boasted a scaffold, and its soil was dyed with the richest and best blood of the land--when it numbered among its inferior officers, jailors, torturers, and an executioner--when all its terrible machinery was in readiness, and could be called into play at a moment's notice--when the steps of Traitor's Gate wore worn by the feet of those who ascended, them--when, on whichever side the gazer looked, the same stern prospect was presented--the palace, the fortress, the prison,--a triple conjunction of fearful significance--when each structure had dark secrets to conceal--when beneath all these ramparts, towers, and bulwarks, were subterranean passages and dungeons--_then_, indeed, it presented a striking picture both to the eye and mind.
 
Slowly following his companion, Renard counted all the towers, which, including that whereon he was standing, and these connected with the bulwarks and palace, amounted to twenty-two,--marked their position--commented upon the palace, and the arrangement of its offices and outbuildings--examined its courts and gardens--inquired into the situation of the queen's apartments, and was shown a long line of buildings with a pointed roof, extending from the south-east angle of the keep to the Lanthorn Tower--admired the magnificent prospect of the heights of Surrey and Kent--traced the broad stream of the Thames as far as Greenwich--suffered his gaze to wander over the marshy tract of country towards Essex--noted the postern gate in the ancient city walls, standing at the edge of the north bank of the moat--traced those walls by their lofty entrances from Aldgate to Cripplegate, and from thence returned to the church of All Hallows Barking, and Tower Hill. The last object upon which his gaze rested was the scaffold. A sinister smile played upon his features as he gazed on it.
 
"There," he observed, "is the bloody sceptre by which England is ruled. From the palace to the prison is a step--from the prison to the scaffold another."
 
"King Henry the Eighth gave it plenty of employment," observed Winwike.
 
"True," replied Renard ; and his daughter, Queen Mary, will not suffer it to remain idle."
 
"Many a head will, doubtless, fall (and justly), in consequence of the late usurpation," remarked the warder.
 
"The first to do so now rests within that building," rejoined Renard, glancing at the Beauchamp Tower.
 
"Your worship, of course, means the Duke of Northumber-
 
land, since his grace is confined there," returned the warder. "Well, if she is spared who, though placed foremost in the wrongful and ill-advised struggle, was the last to counsel it, I care not what becomes of the rest. Poor lady Jane ! Could our eyes pierce yon stone walls," he added, pointing to the Brick Tower, "I make no doubt we should discover her on her knees. She passes most of her time, I am informed, in prayer."
 
"Humph !" ejaculated Renard. And he half muttered, "She shall either embrace the Romish faith, or die by the hand of the executioner."
 
Winwike made no answer to the observation, and affected not to hear it, but he shuddered at the look that accompanied it--a look that brought to mind all he heard of the mysterious and terrible individual at his side.   

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