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a gold cup of sack is handed to each member, who ings or discussions on points of law. The mere drinks to the happy Restoration of Charles II. student sat farthest from the bar.

The writer in Blackwood before referred to alludes When these “mootings" were discontinued deto the strict silence enjoined at the Inner Temple ponent sayeth not. In Coke's time (1543), that dinners, the only intercourse between the several great lawyer, after supper at five o'clock, used to members of the mess being the usual social scowl join the moots, when questions of law were pro vouchsafed by your true-born Englishman to per- posed and discussed, when fine on the garden

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sons who have not the honour of his acquaintance. terrace, in rainy weather in the Temple cloisters. You may, indeed, on an emergency, ask your neigh- The dinner alone now remains ; dining is now the bour for the salt; but then it is also perfectly only legal study of Temple students. understood that he is not obliged to notice your In the Middle Temple a three years' standing and request.

twelve commons kept suffices to entitle a gentleThe old term of “calling to the bar" seems to man to be called to the bar, provided he is above have originated in the custom of summoning twenty-three years of age. No person can be students, that had attained a certain standing, to called to the bar at any of the Inns of Court before the bar that separated the benchers' dais from he is twenty-one years of age; and a standing of the hall, to take part in certain probationary moot-five years is understood to be required of every

The Temple. ]



member before being called. The members of the present; and when Paper Buildings were erected, several universities, &c., may, however, be called part of this wall was dug up. The view given on after three years' standing.

this page, and taken from an old view in the The Inner Temple Garden, three acres in extent, Temple, shows a portion of the old wall, with the has probably been a garden from the time when the doorway opening upon the Temple Stairs. white-mantled Templars first came from Holborn The Temple Garden, half a century since, was and settled by the river-side. This little paradise of famous for its white and red roses, the Old Provence, nurserymaids and London children is entered from the Cabbage, and the Maiden's Blush ; and the the terrace by an iron gate (date, 1730); and the lime trees were delightful in the time of bloom. winged horse that surmounts the portal has looked There were only two steamboats on the river then ;

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down on many a distinguished visitor. In the but the steamers and factory smoke soon spoiled centre of the grass is such a sun-dial as Charles everything but the hardy chrysanthemums. HowLamb loved, with the date 1770. A little to the ever, since the Smoke Consuming Act has been en. east of this stands an old sycamore, which, fifteen forced, the roses, stocks, and hawthorns have again years since, was railed in as the august mummy taken heart, and blossom with grateful luxuriance. of that umbrageous tree under whose shade, as In 1864 Mr. Broome, the zealous gardener of the tradition says, Johnson and Goldsmith used to sit Inner Temple, exhibited at the Central Horticuland converse. According to an engraving of 1671 tural Society twenty-four trusses of roses grown there were formerly three trees; so that Shake- under his care. In the flower-beds next the main speare himself may have sat under them and medi- walk he managed to secure four successive crops tated on the Wars of the Roses. The print shows of flowers—the pompones were especially gaudy and a brick terrace faced with stone, with a flight of be utiful; but his chief triumphs were the chrysansteps at the north. The old river wall of 1670 themums of the northern border. ! The trees, howstood fifty or sixty yards farther north than the ever, seem delicate, and suffering from the cold


winds, dwindle as they approach the Embankment, referees have been appointed, but there is no record which separates the garden from the river. The of a single case being tried by them. The two Temple rooks—the wise birds that Goldsmith de- gentlemen, finding their office a sinecure, have lighted to watch—were originally brought by Sir devoted their salaries to making periodical addiWilliam Northcote from Woodcote Green, Epsom, tions to the library. May we be allowed to ask, but they left in disgust many years since. Mr. was this benevolent object ever made known to Timbs says that 200 families enjoy these gardens the public generally? We cannot but think, if it had throughout the year; and about 10,000 of the outer been, that the two respected arbitrators would not world, chiefly children, who are always in search of have had to complain of the office as a sinecure. the lost Eden, come here on summer evenings. He who can enumerate the wise and great men The flowers and trees are rarely injured.

who have been educated in the Temple can count In the secluded Middle Temple Garden is an off the stars on his finger and measure the sands of old catalpa tree, supposed to have been planted by the sea-shore by teacupsful. To cull a few, we that grave and just judge, Sir Matthew Hale. On may mention that the Inner Temple boasts among the lawn is a large table sun-dial, elaborately gilt its eminent members — Audley, Chancellor to and embellished. A magnificent new library was Henry VIII.; Nicholas Hare, of Hare Court celeopened here in 1868. From the library oriel the brity; the great lawyer, Littleton (1481), and Thames and its bridges, Somerset House and the Coke, his commentator ; Sir Christopher Hatton, Houses of Parliament, form a grand coup d'ail. the dancing Chancellor; Lord Buckhurst ; Selden ;

The revenue of the Middle Temple alone is said Judge Jeffries; Beaumont, the poet; William to be £13,000 a year. Of the savings the out- Browne, the author of “Britannia's Pastorals” (so side world is entirely ignorant. The students' much praised by the Lamb and Hazlitt school); dinners are half paid for by themselves, the Cowper, the poet; and Sir William Follett. library is kept up on very little fodder, and alto- From the Middle Temple have also sprung gether the system of auditing the Inns of Court swarms of great lawyers. We may mention accounts is as incomprehensible as the Sybilline specially Plowden, the jurist, Sir Walter Raleigh, oracles; but there can be no doubt it is all right, Sir Thomas Overbury (who was poisoned in the and very well managed.

Tower), John Ford (one of the latest of the great In the seventeenth century (says Mr. Noble) a dramatists), Sir Edward Bramston (chamber-fellow benevolent member of the Middle Temple con- to Mr. Hyde, afterwards Lord Clarendon), Bulstrode veyed to the benchers in fee several houses in the Whitelocke (one of Cromwell's Ministers), LordCity, out of the rents of which to pay a stated Keeper Guildford (Charles II.), Lord Chancellor salary to each of two referees, who were to meet Somers, Wycherley and Congreve (the dramatists), on two days weekly, in term, from two to five, in Shadwell and Southern (comedy writers), Sir William the hall or other convenient place, and without fee Blackstone, Edmund Burke, Sheridan, Dunning, on either side, to settle as best they could all dis- (Lord Ashburton), Lord Chancellor Eldon, Lord putes submitted to them. From that time the Stowell, as a few among a multitude.



The Present Whitefriars—The Carmelite Convent–Dr. Butts-The Sanctuary-Lord Sanquhar Murders the Fencing-Master-His Trial-Bacon

and Yelverton-His Execution-Sir Walter Scott's “ Fortunes of Nigel”-Shadwell's Squire of Alsatia-A Riot in Whitefriars-Elizabethan Edicts against the Ruffians of Alsatia-Bridewell A Roman Fortification -A Saxon Palace-Wolsey's Residence-Queen Katharine's Trial -Her Behaviour in Court- Persecution of the First Congregationalists-Granaries and Coal Stores destroyed by the Great Fire-The Flogging in Bridewell --Sermon on Madame Creswell-Hogarth and the “Harlot's Progress "-Pennant's Account of Bridewell - Bridewell in 1843– Its Latter Days-Pictures in the Court Room--Bridewell Dock-The Gas Works—Theatres in Whitefriars--Pepys' Visits to the Theatre -Dryden and the Dorset Gardens Theatre-Davenant-Kynaston-Dorset House–The Poet-Earl.

So rich is London in legend and tradition, that Whitefriars—that dull, narrow, uninviting lane even some of the spots that now appear the sloping from Fleet Street to the river, with gasblankest, baldest, and most uninteresting, are works at its foot and mean shops on either sidereally vaults of entombed anecdote and treasure- was once the centre of a district full of noblemen's houses of old story.

mansions; but Time's harlequin wand by-and-by




turned it into a debtors' sanctuary and thieves' eye put out by a fencing-master of Whitefriars. The paradise, and for half a century its bullies and young lord—a man of a very ancient, proud, and swindlers waged a ceaseless war with their proud noble Scotch family, as renowned for courage as and rackety neighbours of the Temple. The dingy for wit—had striven to put some affront on the lane, now only awakened by the quick wheel of the fencing-master at Lord Norris's house, in Oxfordswift newspaper cart or the ponderous tires of the shire, wishing to render him contemptible before sullen coal-wagon, was in olden times for ever his patrons and assistants—a common bravado ringing with clash of swords, the cries of quarrel of the rash Tybalts and hot-headed Mercutios of some gamblers, and the drunken songs of noisy those fiery days of the duello, when even to crack Bobadils.

a nut too loud was enough to make your tavern In the reign of Edward I., a certain Sir Robert neighbour draw his sword. John Turner, the Gray, moved by qualms of conscience or honest master, jealous of his professional honour, chalimpulse, founded on the bank of the Thames, east lenged the tyro with dagger and rapier, and, deterof the well-guarded Temple, a Carmelite convent, mined to chastise his ungenerous assailant, parried with broad gardens, where the white friars might all his most skilful passadoes and staccatoes, and in stroll, and with shady nooks where they might say his turn pressed Sanquhar with his foil so hotly and their “office." Bouverie Street and Ram Alley boldly that he unfortunately thrust out one of his were then part of their domain, and there they eyes. The young baron, ashamed of his own rashwatched the river and prayed for their patrons' ness, and not convinced that Turner's thrust was only souls. In 1350 Courtenay, Earl of Devon, rebuilt a slip and an accident, bore with patience several the Whitefriars Church, and in 1420 a Bishop of days of extreme danger. As for Turner, he disHereford added a steeple. In time, greedy played natural regret, and was exonerated by hands were laid roughly on cope and chalice; and everybody. Some time after, Lord Sanquhar being Henry VIII., seizing on the friars' domains, gave in the court of Henry IV. of France, that chivalrous his physician—that Doctor Butts mentioned by and gallant king, always courteous to strangers, Shakespeare—the chapter-house for a residence. seeing the patch of green taffeta, unfortunately, Edward VI.—who, with all his promise, was as ready merely to make conversation, asked the young for such pillage as his tyrannical father-pulled Scotchman how he lost his eye. Sanquhar, not down the church, and built noblemen's houses in willing to lose the credit of a wound, answered its stead. The refectory of the convent, being pre- cannily, “It was done, your majesty, with a sword.” served, afterwards became the Whitefriars Theatre. The king replied, thoughtlessly, “Doth the man The mischievous right of sanctuary was preserved live?" and no

This remark, to the district, and confirmed by James I., in whose however, awoke the viper of revenge in the young reign the slum became jocosely known as Alsatiam man's soul. He brooded over those words, and from Alsace, that unhappy frontier then, and later, never ceased to dwell on the hope of some requital contended for by French and Germans—just as on his old opponent. Two years he remained in Chandos Street and that shy neighbourhood at the France, hoping that his wound might be cured, north-west side of the Strand used to be called and at last, in despair of such a result, set sail for the Caribbee Islands, from its countless straits and England, still brooding over revenge against the intricate thieves' passages. The outskirts of the author of his cruel and, as it now appeared, irreCarmelite monastery had no doubt become disre- parable misfortune. The King of Denmark, putable at an early time, for even in Edward III.'s James's toss-pot father-in-law, was on a visit here reign the holy friars had complained of the gross at the time, and the court was very gay. The first temptations of Lombard Street (an alley near news that Lord Sanquhar heard was, that the Bouverie Street). Sirens and Dulcineas of all descrip- accursed Turner was down at Greenwich Palace, tions were ever apt to gather round monasteries. fencing there in public matches before the two Whitefriars, however, even as late as Cromwell's kings. To these entertainments the young Scotchreign, preserved a certain respectability; for here, man went, and there, from some corner of a gallery, with his supposed wife, the Dowager Countess of the man with a patch over his eye no doubt scowled Kent, Selden lived and studied.

and bit his lip at the fencing-master, as he strutted In the reign of James I. a strange murder was beneath, proud of his skill and flushed with committed in Whitefriars. The cause of the crime triumph. The moment the prizes were given, was highly singular. In 1607 young Lord Sanquhar, Sanquhar hurried below, and sought Turner up a Scotch nobleman, who with others of his country- and down, through court and corridor, resolved men had followed his king to England, had an to stab him on the spot, though even drawing a


was said.

sword in the precincts of the palace was an offence On the rith of May, 1612, about seven o'clock punishable with the loss of a hand. Turner, how- in the evening, the two murderers came to a tavern ever, at that time escaped, for Sanquhar never in Whitefriars, which Turner usually frequented as came across him in the throng, though he beat he returned from his fencing-school. Turner, it as a dog beats a covert. The next day, there- sitting at the door with one of his friends, seeing fore, still on his trail, Lord Sanquhar went after the men, saluted them, and asked them to drink. him to London, seeking for him up and down Carlisle turned to cock the pistol he had prepared, the Strand, and in all the chief Fleet Street and then wheeled round, and drawing the pistol from Cheapside taverns. The Scot could not have under his coat, discharged it full at the unfortunate come to a more dangerous place than London. fencing-master, and shot him near the left breast. Some, with malicious pity, would tell him that Turner had only time to cry, “Lord have mercy Turner had vaunted of his skilful thrust, and the upon me- -I am killed,” and fell from the ale-bench, way he had punished a man who tried to publicly dead. Carlisle and Irving at once filed— Carlisle shame him. Others would thoughtlessly lament to the town, Irving towards the river ; but the the spoiling of a good swordsman and a brave latter, mistaking a court where wood was sold for soldier. The mere sight of the turnings to White- the turning into an alley, was instantly run down friars would rouse the evil spirit nestling in San- and taken. Carlisle was caught in Scotland, Gray quhar's heart. Eagerly he sought for Turner, till as he was shipping at a sea-port for Sweden ; and he found he was gone down to Norris's house, in Sanquhar himself, hearing one hundred pounds Oxfordshire the very place where the fatal wound were offered for his head, threw himself on the had been inflicted. Being thus for the time foiled, king's mercy by surrendering himself as an object Sanquhar returned to Scotland, and for the present of pity to the Archbishop of Canterbury. But no delayed his revenge. On his next visit to London intercession could avail. It was necessary for Sanquhar, cruel and steadfast as a bloodhound, James to show that he would not spare Scottish again sought for Turner. Yet the difficulty was to more than English malefactors. surprise the man, for Sanquhar was well known in

Sanquhar was tried in Westminster Hall on the all the taverns and fencing-schools of Whitefriars, 27th of June, before Mr. Justice Yelverton. and yet did not remember Turner sufficiently Francis Bacon, the Solicitor-General, did what he well to be sure of him. He therefore hired two could to save the revengeful Scot, but it was imScotchmen, who undertook his assassination ; but, possible to keep him from the gallows. Robert in spite of this, Turner somehow or other was hard Creighton, Lord Sanquhar, therefore, confessed to get at, and escaped his two pursuers and the himself guilty, but pleaded extenuating circumrelentless man whose money had bought them. stances. He had, he said, always believed that Business then took Sanquhar again to France, but Turner boasted he had put out his eye of set on his return the brooding revenge, now grown purpose, though at the taking up the foils he to a monomania, once more burst into a flame.

(Sanquhar) had specially protested that he played At last he hired Carlisle and Gray, two Scotch- as a scholar, and not as one able to contend with a men, who were to take a lodging in Whitefriars, master in the profession. The mode of playing to discover the best way for Sanquhar himself to among scholars was always to spare the face. strike a sure blow at the unconscious fencing- “After this loss of my eye,” continued the master. These men, after some reconnoitring, quasi-repentant murderer, “and with the great assured their employer that he could not himself get hazard of the loss of life, I must confess that I ever at Turner, but that they would undertake to do so, kept a grudge of my soul against Turner, but had to which Sanquhar assented. But Gray's heart no purpose to take so high a revenge; yet in the failed him after this, and he slipped away; and course of my revenge I considered not my wrongs Turner went again out of town, to fence at some upon terms of Christianity-for then I should have country mansion. Upon this Carlisle, a resolute sought for other satisfaction--but, being trained villain, came to his employer and told him with up in the courts of princes and in arms, I stood grim set face that, as Gray had deceived him and upon the terms of honour, and thence befell this there was “trust in no knave of them all,” he would act of dishonour, whereby I have offended-first, e'en have nobody but himself, and would assuredly God; second, my prince; third, my native country; kill Turner on his return, though it were with the fourth, this country; fifth, the party murdered ; loss of his own life. Irving, a Border lad, and page sixth, his wife ; seventh, posterity; eighth, Carlisle, to Lord Sanquhar, ultimately joined Carlisle in the now to be executed; and lastly, ninth, my own soul, assassination.

and I am now to die for my offence. But, my


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