CHAPTER III

OLD WALLED TOWNS

The destruction of ancient buildings always causes grief and distress
to those who love antiquity. It is much to be deplored, but in some
cases is perhaps inevitable. Old-fashioned half-timbered shops with
small diamond-paned windows are not the most convenient for the
display of the elegant fashionable costumes effectively draped on
modelled forms. Motor-cars cannot be displayed in antiquated old
shops. Hence in modern up-to-date towns these old buildings are
doomed, and have to give place to grand emporiums with large
plate-glass windows and the refinements of luxurious display. We hope
to visit presently some of the old towns and cities which happily
retain their ancient beauties, where quaint houses with oversailing
upper stories still exist, and with the artist's aid to describe many
of their attractions.

Although much of the destruction is, as I have said, inevitable, a
vast amount is simply the result of ignorance and wilful perversity.
Ignorant persons get elected on town councils--worthy men doubtless,
and able men of business, who can attend to and regulate the financial
affairs of the town, look after its supply of gas and water, its
drainage and tramways; but they are absolutely ignorant of its
history, its associations, of architectural beauty, of anything that
is not modern and utilitarian. Unhappily, into the care of such men as
these is often confided the custody of historic buildings and
priceless treasures, of ruined abbey and ancient walls, of objects
consecrated by the lapse of centuries and by the associations of
hundreds of years of corporate life; and it is not surprising that in
many cases they betray their trust. They are not interested in such
things. "Let bygones be bygones," they say. "We care not for old
rubbish." Moreover, they frequently resent interference and
instruction. Hence they destroy wholesale what should be preserved,
and England is the poorer.

Not long ago the Edwardian wall of Berwick-on-Tweed was threatened
with demolition at the hands of those who ought to be its
guardians--the Corporation of the town. An official from the Office of
Works, when he saw the begrimed, neglected appearance of the two
fragments of this wall near the Bell Tower, with a stagnant pool in
the fosse, bestrewed with broken pitchers and rubbish, reported that
the Elizabethan walls of the town which were under the direction of
the War Department were in excellent condition, whereas the Edwardian
masonry was utterly neglected. And why was this relic of the town's
former greatness to be pulled down? Simply to clear the site for the
erection of modern dwelling-houses. A very strong protest was made
against this act of municipal barbarism by learned societies, the
Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and others, and we
hope that the hand of the destroyer has been stayed.

Most of the principal towns in England were protected by walls, and
the citizens regarded it as a duty to build them and keep them in
repair. When we look at some of these fortifications, their strength,
their height, their thickness, we are struck by the fact that they
were very great achievements, and that they must have been raised with
immense labour and gigantic cost. In turbulent and warlike times they
were absolutely necessary. Look at some of these triumphs of medieval
engineering skill, so strong, so massive, able to defy the attacks of
lance and arrow, ram or catapult, and to withstand ages of neglect and
the storms of a tempestuous clime. Towers and bastions stood at
intervals against the wall at convenient distances, in order that
bowmen stationed in them could shoot down any who attempted to scale
the wall with ladders anywhere within the distance between the
towers. All along the wall there was a protected pathway for the
defenders to stand, and machicolations through which boiling oil or
lead, or heated sand could be poured on the heads of the attacking
force. The gateways were carefully constructed, flanked by defending
towers with a portcullis, and a guard-room overhead with holes in the
vaulted roof of the gateway for pouring down inconvenient substances
upon the heads of the besiegers. There were several gates, the usual
number being four; but Coventry had twelve, Canterbury six, and
Newcastle-on-Tyne seven, besides posterns.

[Illustration: Old Houses built on the Town Wall, Rye]

Berwick-upon-Tweed, York, Chester, and Conway have maintained their
walls in good condition. Berwick has three out of its four gates still
standing. They are called Scotchgate, Shoregate, and Cowgate, and in
the last two still remain the original massive wooden gates with their
bolts and hinges. The remaining fourth gate, named Bridgate, has
vanished. We have alluded to the neglect of the Edwardian wall and its
threatened destruction. Conway has a wall a mile and a quarter in
length, with twenty-one semicircular towers along its course and three
great gateways besides posterns. Edward I built this wall in order to
subjugate the Welsh, and also the walls round Carnarvon, some of which
survive, and Beaumaris. The name of his master-mason has been
preserved, one Henry le Elreton. The muniments of the Corporation of
Alnwick prove that often great difficulties arose in the matter of
wall-building. Its closeness to the Scottish border rendered a wall
necessary. The town was frequently attacked and burnt. The inhabitants
obtained a licence to build a wall in 1433, but they did not at once
proceed with the work. In 1448 the Scots came and pillaged the town,
and the poor burgesses were so robbed and despoiled that they could
not afford to proceed with the wall and petitioned the King for aid.
Then Letters Patent were issued for a collection to be made for the
object, and at last, forty years after the licence was granted,
Alnwick got its wall, and a very good wall it was--a mile in
circumference, twenty feet in height and six in thickness; "it had
four gateways--Bondgate, Clayport, Pottergate, and Narrowgate. Only
the first-named of these is standing. It is three stories in height.
Over the central archway is a panel on which was carved the Brabant
lion, now almost obliterated. On either side is a semi-octagonal
tower. The masonry is composed of huge blocks to which time and
weather have given dusky tints. On the front facing the expected foes
the openings are but little more than arrow-slits; on that within,
facing the town, are well-proportioned mullioned and transomed
windows. The great ribbed archway is grooved for a portcullis, now
removed, and a low doorway on either side gives entrance to the
chambers in the towers. Pottergate was rebuilt in the eighteenth
century and crowns a steep street; only four corner-stones marked T
indicate the site of Clayport. No trace of Narrowgate remains."[4]

As the destruction of many of our castles is due to the action of
Cromwell and the Parliament, who caused them to be "slighted" partly
out of revenge upon the loyal owners who had defended them, so several
of our town-walls were thrown down by order of Charles II at the
Restoration on account of the active assistance which the townspeople
had given to the rebels. The heads of rebels were often placed on
gateways. London Bridge, Lincoln, Newcastle, York, Berwick,
Canterbury, Temple Bar, and other gates have often been adorned with
these gruesome relics of barbarous punishments.

How were these strong walls ever taken in the days before gunpowder
was extensively used or cannon discharged their devastating shells?
Imagine you are present at a siege. You would see the attacking force
advancing a huge wooden tower, covered with hides and placed on
wheels, towards the walls. Inside this tower were ladders, and when
the "sow" had been pushed towards the wall the soldiers rushed up
these ladders and were able to fight on a level with the garrison.
Perhaps they were repulsed, and then a shed-like structure would be
advanced towards the wall, so as to enable the men to get close enough
to dig a hole beneath the walls in order to bring them down. The
besieged would not be inactive, but would cast heavy stones on the
roof of the shed. Molten lead and burning flax were favourite means of
defence to alarm and frighten away the enemy, who retaliated by
casting heavy stones by means of a catapult into the town.

[4] _The Builder_, April 16, 1904.

[Illustration: Bootham Bar, York]

Amongst the fragments of walls still standing, those at Newcastle are
very massive, sooty, and impressive. Southampton has some grand walls
left and a gateway, which show how strongly the town was fortified.
The old Cinque Port, Sandwich, formerly a great and important town,
lately decayed, but somewhat renovated by golf, has two gates left,
and Rochester and Canterbury have some fragments of their walls
standing. The repair of the walls of towns was sometimes undertaken by
guilds. Generous benefactors, like Sir Richard Whittington, frequently
contributed to the cost, and sometimes a tax called murage was levied
for the purpose which was collected by officers named muragers.

The city of York has lost many of its treasures, and the City Fathers
seem to find it difficult to keep their hands off such relics of
antiquity as are left to them. There are few cities in England more
deeply marked with the impress of the storied past than York--the long
and moving story of its gates and walls, of the historical
associations of the city through century after century of English
history. About eighty years ago the Corporation destroyed the
picturesque old barbicans of the Bootham, Micklegate, and Monk Bars,
and only one, Walmgate, was suffered to retain this interesting
feature. It is a wonder they spared those curious stone half-length
figures of men, sculptured in a menacing attitude in the act of
hurling large stones downwards, which vaunt themselves on the summit
of Monk Bar--probably intended to deceive invaders--or that
interesting stone platform only twenty-two inches wide, which was the
only foothold available for the martial burghers who guarded the city
wall at Tower Place. A year or two ago the City Fathers decided, in
order to provide work for the unemployed, to interfere with the city
moats by laying them out as flower-beds and by planting shrubs and
making playgrounds of the banks. The protest of the Yorks
Archaeological Society, we believe, stayed their hands.

The same story can be told of far too many towns and cities. A few
years ago several old houses were demolished in the High Street of the
city of Rochester to make room for electric tramways. Among these was
the old White Hart Inn, built in 1396, the sign being a badge of
Richard II, where Samuel Pepys stayed. He found that "the beds were
corded, and we had no sheets to our beds, only linen to our mouths" (a
narrow strip of linen to prevent the contact of the blanket with the
face). With regard to the disappearance of old inns, we must wait
until we arrive at another chapter.

We will now visit some old towns where we hope to discover some
buildings that are ancient and where all is not distressingly new,
hideous, and commonplace. First we will travel to the old-world town
of Lynn--"Lynn Regis, vulgarly called King's Lynn," as the royal
charter of Henry VIII terms it. On the land side the town was defended
by a fosse, and there are still considerable remains of the old wall,
including the fine Gothic South Gates. In the days of its ancient
glory it was known as Bishop's Lynn, the town being in the hands of
the Bishop of Norwich. Bishop Herbert de Losinga built the church of
St. Margaret at the beginning of the twelfth century, and gave it with
many privileges to the monks of Norwich, who held a priory at Lynn;
and Bishop Turbus did a wonderfully good stroke of business, reclaimed
a large tract of land about 1150 A.D., and amassed wealth for his see
from his markets, fairs, and mills. Another bishop, Bishop Grey,
induced or compelled King John to grant a free charter to the town,
but astutely managed to keep all the power in his own hands. Lynn was
always a very religious place, and most of the orders--Benedictines,
Franciscans, Dominicans, Carmelite and Augustinian Friars, and the
Sack Friars--were represented at Lynn, and there were numerous
hospitals, a lazar-house, a college of secular canons, and other
religious institutions, until they were all swept away by the greed of
a rapacious king. There is not much left to-day of all these religious
foundations. The latest authority on the history of Lynn, Mr. H.J.
Hillen, well says: "Time's unpitying plough-share has spared few
vestiges of their architectural* grandeur." A cemetery cross in the
museum, the name "Paradise" that keeps up the remembrance of the cool,
verdant cloister-garth, a brick arch upon the east bank of the Nar,
and a similar gateway in "Austin" Street are all the relics that
remain of the old monastic life, save the slender hexagonal "Old
Tower," the graceful lantern of the convent of the grey-robed
Franciscans. The above writer also points out the beautifully carved
door in Queen Street, sole relic of the College of Secular Canons,
from which the chisel of the ruthless iconoclast has chipped off the
obnoxious _Orate pro anima_.

*Transcriber's Note: Original "achitectural"

The quiet, narrow, almost deserted streets of Lynn, its port and quays
have another story to tell. They proclaim its former greatness as one
of the chief ports in England and the centre of vast mercantile
activity. A thirteenth-century historian, Friar William Newburg,
described Lynn as "a noble city noted for its trade." It was the key
of Norfolk. Through it flowed all the traffic to and from northern
East Anglia, and from its harbour crowds of ships carried English
produce, mainly wool, to the Netherlands, Norway, and the Rhine
Provinces. Who would have thought that this decayed harbour ranked
fourth among the ports of the kingdom? But its glories have departed.
Decay set in. Its prosperity began to decline.

Railways have been the ruin of King's Lynn. The merchant princes who
once abounded in the town exist here no longer. The last of the long
race died quite recently. Some ancient ledgers still exist in the
town, which exhibit for one firm alone a turnover of something like a
million and a half sterling per annum. Although possessed of a
similarly splendid waterway, unlike Ipswich, the trade of the town
seems to have quite decayed. Few signs of commerce are visible, except
where the advent of branch stations of enterprising "Cash" firms has
resulted in the squaring up of odd projections and consequent
overthrow of certain ancient buildings. There is one act of vandalism
which the town has never ceased to regret and which should serve as a
warning for the future. This is the demolition of the house of Walter
Coney, merchant, an unequalled specimen of fifteenth-century domestic
architecture, which formerly stood at the corner of the Saturday
Market Place and High Street. So strongly was this edifice constructed
that it was with the utmost difficulty that it was taken to pieces, in
order to make room for the ugly range of white brick buildings which
now stands upon its site. But Lynn had an era of much prosperity
during the rise of the Townshends, when the agricultural improvements
brought about by the second Viscount introduced much wealth to
Norfolk. Such buildings as the Duke's Head Hotel belong to the second
Viscount's time, and are indicative of the influx of visitors which
the town enjoyed. In the present day this hotel, though still a
good-sized establishment, occupies only half the building which it
formerly did. An interesting oak staircase of fine proportions, though
now much warped, may be seen here.

[Illustration: Half-timbered House with early Fifteenth-century
Doorway, King's Lynn, Norfolk]

In olden days the Hanseatic League had an office here. The Jews were
plentiful and supplied capital--you can find their traces in the name
of the "Jews' Lane Ward"--and then came the industrious Flemings, who
brought with them the art of weaving cloth and peculiar modes of
building houses, so that Lynn looks almost like a little Dutch town.
The old guild life of Lynn was strong and vigorous, from its Merchant
Guild to the humbler craft guilds, of which we are told that there
have been no less than seventy-five. Part of the old Guildhall,
erected in 1421, with its chequered flint and stone gable still stands
facing the market of St. Margaret with its Renaissance porch, and a
bit of the guild hall of St. George the Martyr remains in King Street.
The custom-house, which was originally built as an exchange for the
Lynn merchants, is a notable building, and has a statue of Charles II
placed in a niche.

This was the earliest work of a local architect, Henry Bell, who is
almost unknown. He was mayor of King's Lynn, and died in 1717, and his
memory has been saved from oblivion by Mr. Beloe of that town, and is
enshrined in Mr. Blomfield's _History of Renaissance Architecture_:--

"This admirable little building originally consisted of an open
loggia about 40 feet by 32 feet outside, with four columns down
the centre, supporting the first floor, and an attic storey above.
The walls are of Portland stone, with a Doric order to the ground
storey supporting an Ionic order to the first floor. The cornice
is of wood, and above this is a steep-pitched tile roof with
dormers, surmounted by a balustrade inclosing a flat, from which
rises a most picturesque wooden cupola. The details are extremely
refined, and the technical knowledge and delicate sense of scale
and proportion shown in this building are surprising in a designer
who was under thirty, and is not known to have done any previous
work."[5]

[5] _History of Renaissance Architecture_, by R. Blomfield.

A building which the town should make an effort to preserve is the old
"Greenland Fishery House," a tenement dating from the commencement of
the seventeenth century.

The Duke's Head Inn, erected in 1689, now spoilt by its coating of
plaster, a house in Queen's Street, the old market cross, destroyed in
1831 and sold for old materials, and the altarpieces of the churches
of St. Margaret and St. Nicholas, destroyed during "restoration," and
North Runcton church, three miles from Lynn, are other works of this
very able artist.

Until the Reformation Lynn was known as Bishop's Lynn, and galled
itself under the yoke of the Bishop of Norwich; but Henry freed the
townsfolk from their bondage and ordered the name to be changed to
Lynn Regis. Whether the good people throve better under the control of
the tyrant who crushed all their guilds and appropriated the spoil
than under the episcopal yoke may be doubtful; but the change pleased
them, and with satisfaction they placed the royal arms on their East
Gate, which, after the manner of gates and walls, has been pulled
down. If you doubt the former greatness of this old seaport you must
examine its civic plate. It possesses the oldest and most important
and most beautiful specimen of municipal plate in England, a grand,
massive silver-gilt cup of exquisite workmanship. It is called "King
John's Cup," but it cannot be earlier than the reign of Edward III. In
addition to this there is a superb sword of state of the time of Henry
VIII, another cup, four silver maces, and other treasures. Moreover,
the town had a famous goldsmiths' company, and several specimens of
their handicraft remain. The defences of the town were sorely tried in
the Civil War, when for three weeks it sustained the attacks of the
rebels. The town was forced to surrender, and the poor folk were
obliged to pay ten shillings a head, besides a month's pay to the
soldiers, in order to save their homes from plunder. Lynn has many
memories. It sheltered King John when fleeing from the revolting
barons, and kept his treasures until he took them away and left them
in a still more secure place buried in the sands of the Wash. It
welcomed Queen Isabella during her retirement at Castle Rising,
entertained Edward IV when he was hotly pursued by the Earl of
Warwick, and has been worthy of its name as a loyal king's town.

Another walled town on the Norfolk coast attracts the attention of all
who love the relics of ancient times, Great Yarmouth, with its
wonderful record of triumphant industry and its associations with many
great events in history. Henry III, recognizing the important
strategical position of the town in 1260, granted a charter to the
townsfolk empowering them to fortify the place with a wall and a moat,
but more than a century elapsed before the fortifications were
completed. This was partly owing to the Black Death, which left few
men in Yarmouth to carry on the work. The walls were built of cut
flint and Caen stone, and extended from the north-east tower in St.
Nicholas Churchyard, called King Henry's Tower, to Blackfriars Tower
at the south end, and from the same King Henry's Tower to the
north-west tower on the bank of the Bure. Only a few years ago a large
portion of this, north of Ramp Row, now called Rampart Road, was taken
down, much to the regret of many. And here I may mention a grand
movement which might be with advantage imitated in every historic
town. A small private company has been formed called the "Great
Yarmouth Historical Buildings, Limited." Its object is to acquire
and preserve the relics of ancient Yarmouth. The founders deserve the
highest praise for their public spirit and patriotism. How many
cherished objects in Vanishing England might have been preserved if
each town or county possessed such a valuable association! This
Yarmouth society owns the remains of the cloisters of Grey Friars and
other remains of ancient buildings. It is only to be regretted that it
was not formed earlier. There were nine gates in the walls of the
town, but none of them are left, and of the sixteen towers which
protected the walls only a very few remain.

[Illustration: The "Bone Tower", Town walls, Great Yarmouth]

These walls guard much that is important. The ecclesiastical buildings
are very fine, including the largest parish church in England, founded
by the same Herbert de Losinga whose good work we saw at King's Lynn.
The church of St. Nicholas has had many vicissitudes, and is now one
of the finest in the country. It was in medieval times the church of a
Benedictine Priory; a cell of the monastery at Norwich and the Priory
Hall remains, and is now restored and used as a school. Royal guests
have been entertained there, but part of the buildings were turned
into cottages and the great hall into stables. As we have said, part
of the Grey Friars Monastery remains, and also part of the house of
the Augustine Friars. The Yarmouth rows are a great feature of the
town. They are not like the Chester rows, but are long, narrow streets
crossing the town from east to west, only six feet wide, and one row
called Kitty-witches only measures at one end two feet three inches.
It has been suggested that this plan of the town arose from the
fishermen hanging out their nets to dry and leaving a narrow passage
between each other's nets, and that in course of time these narrow
passages became defined and were permanently retained. In former days
rich merchants and traders lived in the houses that line these rows,
and had large gardens behind their dwellings; and sometimes you can
see relics of former greatness--a panelled room or a richly decorated
ceiling. But the ancient glory of the rows is past, and the houses
are occupied now by fishermen or labourers. These rows are so narrow
that no ordinary vehicle could be driven along them. Hence there arose
special Yarmouth carts about three and a half feet wide and twelve
feet long with wheels underneath the body. Very brave and gallant have
always been the fishermen of Yarmouth, not only in fighting the
elements, but in defeating the enemies of England. History tells of
many a sea-fight in which they did good service to their king and
country. They gallantly helped to win the battle of Sluys, and sent
forty-three ships and one thousand men to help with the siege of
Calais in the time of Edward III. They captured and burned the town
and harbour of Cherbourg in the time of Edward I, and performed many
other acts of daring.

[Illustration: Row No. 83, Great Yarmouth]

One of the most interesting houses in the town is the Tolhouse, the
centre of the civic life of Yarmouth. It is said to be six hundred
years old, having been erected in the time of Henry III, though some
of the windows are decorated, but may have been inserted later. Here
the customs or tolls were collected, and the Corporation held its
meetings. There is a curious open external staircase leading to the
first floor, where the great hall is situated. Under the hall is a
gaol, a wretched prison wherein the miserable captives were chained to
a beam that ran down the centre. Nothing in the town bears stronger
witness to the industry and perseverance of the Yarmouth men than the
harbour. They have scoured the sea for a thousand years to fill their
nets with its spoil, and made their trade of world-wide fame, but
their port speaks louder in their praise. Again and again has the
fickle sea played havoc with their harbour, silting it up with sand
and deserting the town as if in revenge for the harvest they reap from
her. They have had to cut out no less than seven harbours in the
course of the town's existence, and royally have they triumphed over
all difficulties and made Yarmouth a great and prosperous port.

Near Yarmouth is the little port of Gorleston with its old jetty-head,
of which we give an illustration. It was once the rival of Yarmouth.
The old magnificent church of the Augustine Friars stood in this
village and had a lofty, square, embattled tower which was a landmark
to sailors. But the church was unroofed and despoiled at the
Reformation, and its remains were pulled down in 1760, only a small
portion of the tower remaining, and this fell a victim to a violent
storm at the beginning of the last century. The grand parish church
was much plundered at the Reformation, and left piteously bare by the
despoilers.

[Illustration: The Old Jetty, Gorleston]

The town, now incorporated with Yarmouth, has a proud boast:--

Gorleston was Gorleston ere Yarmouth begun,
And will be Gorleston when Yarmouth is done.

Another leading East Anglian port in former days was the county town
of Suffolk, Ipswich. During the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries
ships from most of the countries of Western Europe disembarked their
cargoes on its quays--wines from Spain, timber from Norway, cloth from
Flanders, salt from France, and "mercerie" from Italy left its crowded
wharves to be offered for sale in the narrow, busy streets of the
borough. Stores of fish from Iceland, bales of wool, loads of untanned
hides, as well as the varied agricultural produce of the district,
were exposed twice in the week on the market stalls.[6] The learned
editor of the _Memorials of Old Suffolk_, who knows the old town so
well, tells us that the stalls of the numerous markets lay within a
narrow limit of space near the principal churches of the town--St.
Mary-le-Tower, St. Mildred, and St. Lawrence. The Tavern Street of
to-day was the site of the flesh market or cowerye. A narrow street
leading thence to the Tower Church was the Poultry, and Cooks' Row,
Butter Market, Cheese and Fish markets were in the vicinity. The
manufacture of leather was the leading industry of old Ipswich, and
there was a goodly company of skinners, barkers, and tanners employed
in the trade. Tavern Street had, as its name implies, many taverns,
and was called the Vintry, from the large number of opulent vintners
who carried on their trade with London and Bordeaux. Many of these men
were not merely peaceful merchants, but fought with Edward III in his
wars with France and were knighted for their feats of arms. Ipswich
once boasted of a castle which was destroyed in Stephen's reign. In
Saxon times it was fortified by a ditch and a rampart which were
destroyed by the Danes, but the fortifications were renewed in the
time of King John, when a wall was built round the town with four
gates which took their names from the points of the compass. Portions
of these remain to bear witness to the importance of this ancient
town. We give views of an old building near the custom-house in
College Street and Fore Street, examples of the narrow, tortuous
thoroughfares which modern improvements have not swept away.

[6] Cf. _Memorials of Suffolk_, edited by V.B. Redstone.

[Illustration: Tudor House, Ipswich, near the Custom House]

[Illustration: Three-gabled House, Fore Street, Ipswich]

We cannot give accounts of all the old fortified towns in England and
can only make selections. We have alluded to the ancient walls of
York. Few cities can rival it in interest and architectural beauty,
its relics of Roman times, its stately and magnificent cathedral, the
beautiful ruins of St. Mary's Abbey, the numerous churches exhibiting
all the grandeur of the various styles of Gothic architecture, the old
merchants' hall, and the quaint old narrow streets with gabled houses
and widely projecting storeys. And then there is the varied history of
the place dating from far-off Roman times. Not the least interesting
feature of York are its gates and walls. Some parts of the walls are
Roman, that curious thirteen-sided building called the multangular
tower forming part of it, and also the lower part of the wall leading
from this tower to Bootham Bar, the upper part being of later origin.
These walls have witnessed much fighting, and the cannons in the Civil
War during the siege in 1644 battered down some portions of them and
sorely tried their hearts. But they have been kept in good
preservation and repaired at times, and the part on the west of the
Ouse is especially well preserved. You can see some Norman and Early
English work, but the bulk of it belongs to Edwardian times, when York
played a great part in the history of England, and King Edward I made
it his capital during the war with Scotland, and all the great nobles
of England sojourned there. Edward II spent much time there, and the
minster saw the marriage of his son. These walls were often sorely
needed to check the inroads of the Scots. After Bannockburn fifteen
thousand of these northern warriors advanced to the gates of York. The
four gates of the city are very remarkable. Micklegate Bar consists of
a square tower built over a circular arch of Norman date with
embattled turrets at the angles. On it the heads of traitors were
formerly exposed. It bears on its front the arms of France as well as
those of England.

[Illustration: "Melia's Passage," York]

Bootham Bar is the main entrance from the north, and has a Norman arch
with later additions and turrets with narrow slits for the discharge
of arrows. It saw the burning of the suburb of Bootham in 1265 and
much bloodshed, when a mighty quarrel raged between the citizens and
the monks of the Abbey of St. Mary owing to the abuse of the privilege
of sanctuary possessed by the monastery. Monk Bar has nothing to do
with monks. Its former name was Goodramgate, and after the Restoration
it was changed to Monk Bar in honour of General Monk. The present
structure was probably built in the fourteenth century. Walmgate Bar,
a strong, formidable structure, was built in the reign of Edward I,
and as we have said, it is the only gate that retains its curious
barbican, originally built in the time of Edward III and rebuilt in
1648. The inner front of the gate has been altered from its original
form in order to secure more accommodation within. The remains of the
Clifford's Tower, which played an important part in the siege, tell of
the destruction caused by the blowing up of the magazine in 1683, an
event which had more the appearance of design than accident. York
abounds with quaint houses and narrow streets. We give an illustration
of the curious Melia's Passage; the origin of the name I am at a loss
to conjecture.

Chester is, we believe, the only city in England which has retained
the entire circuit of its walls complete. According to old unreliable
legends, Marius, or Marcius, King of the British, grandson of
Cymbeline, who began his reign A.D. 73, first surrounded Chester with
a wall, a mysterious person who must be classed with Leon Gawr, or
Vawr, a mighty strong giant who founded Chester, digging caverns in
the rocks for habitations, and with the story of King Leir, who first
made human habitations in the future city. Possibly there was here a
British camp. It was certainly a Roman city, and has preserved the
form and plan which the Romans were accustomed to affect; its four
principal streets diverging at right angles from a common centre, and
extending north, east, south, and west, and terminating in a gate, the
other streets forming insulae as at Silchester. There is every reason
to believe that the Romans surrounded the city with a wall. Its
strength was often tried. Hither the Saxons came under Ethelfrith and
pillaged the city, but left it to the Britons, who were not again
dislodged until Egbert came in 828 and recovered it. The Danish
pirates came here and were besieged by Alfred, who slew all within its
walls. These walls were standing but ruinous when the noble daughter
of Alfred, Ethelfleda, restored them in 907. A volume would be needed
to give a full account of Chester's varied history, and our main
concern is with the treasures that remain. The circumference of the
walls is nearly two miles, and there are four principal gates besides
posterns--the North, East, Bridge-gate, and Water-gate. The North Gate
was in the charge of the citizens; the others were held by persons who
had that office by serjeanty under the Earls of Chester, and were
entitled to certain tolls, which, with the custody of the gates, were
frequently purchased by the Corporation. The custody of the
Bridge-gate belonged to the Raby family in the reign of Edward III. It
had two round towers, on the westernmost of which was an octagonal
water-tower. These were all taken down in 1710-81 and the gate
rebuilt. The East Gate was given by Edward I to Henry Bradford, who
was bound to find a crannoc and a bushel for measuring the salt that
might be brought in. Needless to say, the old gate has vanished. It
was of Roman architecture, and consisted of two arches formed by large
stones. Between the tops of the arches, which were cased with Norman
masonry, was the whole-length figure of a Roman soldier. This gate was
a _porta principalis_, the termination of the great Watling Street
that led from Dover through London to Chester. It was destroyed in
1768, and the present gate erected by Earl Grosvenor. The custody of
the Water-gate belonged to the Earls of Derby. It also was destroyed,
and the present arch erected in 1788. A new North Gate was built in
1809 by Robert, Earl Grosvenor. The principal postern-gates were Cale
Yard Gate, made by the abbot and convent in the reign of Edward I as a
passage to their kitchen garden; New-gate, formerly Woolfield or
Wolf-gate, repaired in 1608, also called Pepper-gate;[7] and
Ship-gate, or Hole-in-the-wall, which alone retains its Roman arch,
and leads to a ferry across the Dee.

[7] The Chester folk have a proverb, "When the daughter is stolen,
shut Pepper-gate"--referring to the well-known story of a daughter
of a Mayor of Chester having made her escape with her lover
through this gate, which he ordered to be closed, but too late to
prevent the fugitives.

The walls are strengthened by round towers so placed as not to be
beyond bowshot of each other, in order that their arrows might reach
the enemy who should attempt to scale the walls in the intervals. At
the north-east corner is Newton's Tower, better known as the Phoenix
from a sculptured figure, the ensign of one of the city guilds,
appearing over its door. From this tower Charles I saw the battle of
Rowton Heath and the defeat of his troops during the famous siege of
Chester. This was one of the most prolonged and deadly in the whole
history of the Civil War. It would take many pages to describe the
varied fortunes of the gallant Chester men, who were at length
constrained to feed on horses, dogs, and cats. There is much in the
city to delight the antiquary and the artist--the famous rows, the
three-gabled old timber mansion of the Stanleys with its massive
staircase, oaken floors, and panelled walls, built in 1591, Bishop
Lloyd's house in Water-gate with its timber front sculptured with
Scripture subjects, and God's Providence House with its motto "God's
Providence is mine inheritance," the inhabitants of which are said to
have escaped one of the terrible plagues that used to rage frequently
in old Chester.

[Illustration: Detail of Half-timbered House in High Street,
Shrewsbury]

Journeying southwards we come to Shrewsbury, another walled town,
abounding with delightful half-timbered houses, less spoiled than any
town we know. It was never a Roman town, though six miles away, at
Uriconium, the Romans had a flourishing city with a great basilica,
baths, shops, and villas, and the usual accessories of luxury.
Tradition says that its earliest Celtic name was Pengwern, where a
British prince had his palace; but the town Scrobbesbyrig came into
existence under Offa's rule in Mercia, and with the Normans came Roger
de Montgomery, Shrewsbury's first Earl, and a castle and the stately
abbey of SS. Peter and Paul. A little later the town took to itself
walls, which were abundantly necessary on account of the constant
inroads of the wild Welsh.

For the barbican's massy and high,
Bloudie Jacke!
And the oak-door is heavy and brown;
And with iron it's plated and machicolated,
To pour boiling oil and lead down;
How you'd frown
Should a ladle-full fall on your crown!

The rock that it stands on is steep,
Bloudie Jacke!
To gain it one's forced for to creep;
The Portcullis is strong, and the Drawbridge is long,
And the water runs all round the Keep;
At a peep
You can see that the moat's very deep!

So rhymed the author of the _Ingoldsby Legends_, when in his "Legend
of Shropshire" he described the red stone fortress that towers over
the loop of the Severn enclosing the picturesque old town of
Shrewsbury. The castle, or rather its keep, for the outworks have
disappeared, has been modernized past antiquarian value now. Memories
of its importance as the key of the Northern Marches, and of the
ancient custom of girding the knights of the shire with their swords
by the sheriffs on the grass plot of its inner court, still remain.
The town now stands on a peninsula girt by the Severn. On the high
ground between the narrow neck stood the castle, and under its shelter
most of the houses of the inhabitants. Around this was erected the
first wall. The latest historian of Shrewsbury[8] tells us that it
started from the gate of the castle, passed along the ridge at the
back of Pride Hill, at the bottom of which it turned along the line of
High Street, past St. Julian's Church which overhung it, to the top
of Wyle Cop, when it followed the ridge back to the castle. Of the
part extending from Pride Hill to Wyle Cop only scant traces exist at
the back of more modern buildings.

[8] The Rev. T. Auden, _Shrewsbury_ (Methuen and Co.).

The town continued to grow and more extensive defences were needed,
and in the time of Henry III, Mr. Auden states that this followed the
old line at the back of Pride Hill, but as the ground began to slope
downwards, another wall branched from it in the direction of Roushill
and extended to the Welsh Bridge. This became the main defence,
leaving the old wall as an inner rampart. From the Welsh Bridge the
new wall turned up Claremont Bank to where St. Chad's Church now
stands, and where one of the original towers stood. Then it passed
along Murivance, where the only existing tower is to be seen, and so
along the still remaining portion of the wall to English Bridge, where
it turned up the hill at the back of what is now Dogpole, and passing
the Watergate, again joined the fortifications of the castle.[9] The
castle itself was reconstructed by Prince Edward, the son of Henry
III, at the end of the thirteenth century, and is of the Edwardian
type of concentric castle. The Norman keep was incorporated within a
larger circle of tower and wall, forming an inner bailey; besides this
there was formerly an outer bailey, in which were various buildings,
including the chapel of St. Nicholas. Only part of the buildings on
one side of the inner bailey remains in its original form, but the
massive character of the whole may be judged from the fragments now
visible.

[9] _Ibid._, p. 48.

These walls guarded a noble town full of churches and monasteries,
merchants' houses, guild halls, and much else. We will glance at the
beauties that remain: St. Mary's, containing specimens of every style
of architecture from Norman downward, with its curious foreign glass;
St. Julian's, mainly rebuilt in 1748, though the old tower remains;
St. Alkmund's; the Church of St. Chad; St. Giles's Church; and the
nave and refectory pulpit of the monastery of SS. Peter and Paul. It
is distressing to see this interesting gem of fourteenth-century
architecture amid the incongruous surroundings of a coalyard. You can
find considerable remains of the domestic buildings of the Grey
Friars' Monastery near the footbridge across the Severn, and also of
the home of the Austin Friars in a builder's yard at the end of Baker
Street.

[Illustration: Tower on the Town Wall, Shrewsbury]

In many towns we find here and there an old half-timbered dwelling,
but in Shrewsbury there is a surprising wealth of them--streets full
of them, bearing such strange medieval names as "Mardel" or "Wyle
Cop." Shrewsbury is second to no other town in England in the interest
of its ancient domestic buildings. There is the gatehouse of the old
Council House, bearing the date 1620, with its high gable and carved
barge-boards, its panelled front, the square spaces between the
upright and horizontal timbers being ornamented with cut timber. The
old buildings of the famous Shrewsbury School are now used as a Free
Library and Museum and abound in interest. The house remains in which
Prince Rupert stayed during his sojourn in 1644, then owned by "Master
Jones the lawyer," at the west end of St. Mary's Church, with its fine
old staircase. Whitehall, a fine mansion of red sandstone, was built
by Richard Prince, a lawyer, in 1578-82, "to his great chardge with
fame to hym and hys posterite for ever." The Old Market Hall in the
Renaissance style, with its mixture of debased Gothic and classic
details, is worthy of study. Even in Shrewsbury we have to record the
work of the demon of destruction. The erection of the New Market Hall
entailed the disappearance of several old picturesque houses.
Bellstone House, erected in 1582, is incorporated in the National
Provincial Bank. The old mansion known as Vaughan's Place is swallowed
up by the music-hall, though part of the ancient dwelling-place
remains. St. Peter's Abbey Church in the commencement of the
nineteenth century had an extraordinary annexe of timber and plaster,
probably used at one time as parsonage house, which, with several
buttressed remains of the adjacent conventual buildings, have long ago
been squared up and "improved" out of existence. Rowley's mansion, in
Hill's Lane, built of brick in 1618 by William Rowley, is now a
warehouse. Butcher Row has some old houses with projecting storeys,
including a fine specimen of a medieval shop. Some of the houses in
Grope Lane lean together from opposite sides of the road, so that
people in the highest storey can almost shake hands with their
neighbours across the way. You can see the "Olde House" in which Mary
Tudor is said to have stayed, and the mansion of the Owens, built in
1592 as an inscription tells us, and that of the Irelands, with its
range of bow-windows, four storeys high, and terminating in gables,
erected about 1579. The half-timbered hall of the Drapers' Guild, some
old houses in Frankwell, including the inn with the quaint sign--the
String of Horses, the ancient hostels--the Lion, famous in the
coaching age, the Ship, and the Raven--Bennett's Hall, which was the
mint when Shrewsbury played its part in the Civil War, and last, but
not least, the house in Wyle Cop, one of the finest in the town, where
Henry Earl of Richmond stayed on his way to Bosworth field to win the
English Crown. Such are some of the beauties of old Shrewsbury which
happily have not yet vanished.

[Illustration: House that the Earl of Richmond stayed in before the
Battle of Bosworth, Shrewsbury]

Not far removed from Shrewsbury is Coventry, which at one time could
boast of a city wall and a castle. In the reign of Richard II this
wall was built, strengthened by towers. Leland, writing in the time of
Henry VIII, states that the city was begun to be walled in when Edward
II reigned, and that it had six gates, many fair towers, and streets
well built with timber. Other writers speak of thirty-two towers and
twelve gates. But few traces of these remain. The citizens of Coventry
took an active part in the Civil War in favour of the Parliamentary
army, and when Charles II came to the throne he ordered these defences
to be demolished. The gates were left, but most of them have since
been destroyed. Coventry is a city of fine old timber-framed
fifteenth-century houses with gables and carved barge-boards and
projecting storeys, though many of them are decayed and may not last
many years. The city has had a fortunate immunity from serious fires.
We give an illustration of one of the old Coventry streets called Spon
Street, with its picturesque houses. These old streets are numerous,
tortuous and irregular. One of the richest and most interesting
examples of domestic architecture in England is St. Mary's Hall,
erected in the time of Henry VI. Its origin is connected with ancient
guilds of the city, and in it were stored their books and archives.
The grotesquely carved roof, minstrels' gallery, armoury, state-chair,
great painted window, and a fine specimen of fifteenth-century
tapestry are interesting features of this famous hall, which furnishes
a vivid idea of the manners and civic customs of the age when Coventry
was the favourite resort of kings and princes. It has several fine
churches, though the cathedral was levelled with the ground by that
arch-destroyer Henry VIII. Coventry remains one of the most
interesting towns in England.

One other walled town we will single out for especial notice in this
chapter--the quaint, picturesque, peaceful, placid town of Rye on the
Sussex coast. It was once wooed by the sea, which surrounded the rocky
island on which it stands, but the fickle sea has retired and left it
lonely on its hill with a long stretch of marshland between it and the
waves. This must have taken place about the fifteenth century. Our
illustration of a disused mooring-post (p. 24) is a symbol of the
departed greatness of the town as a naval station. The River Rother
connects it with the sea, and the few barges and humble craft and a
few small shipbuilding yards remind it of its palmy days when it was
a member of the Cinque Ports, a rich and prosperous town that sent
forth its ships to fight the naval battles of England and win honour
for Rye and St. George. During the French wars English vessels often
visited French ports and towns along the coast and burned and pillaged
them. The French sailors retaliated with equal zest, and many of our
southern towns have suffered from fire and sword during those
adventurous days.

[Illustration: Old Houses formerly standing in Spon Street Coventry]

Rye was strongly fortified by a wall with gates and towers and a
fosse, but the defences suffered grievously from the attacks of the
French, and the folk of Rye were obliged to send a moving petition to
King Richard II, praying him "to have consideration of the poor town
of Rye, inasmuch as it had been several times taken, and is unable
further to repair the walls, wherefore the town is, on the sea-side,
open to enemies." I am afraid that the King did not at once grant
their petition, as two years later, in 1380, the French came again and
set fire to the town. With the departure of the sea and the
diminishing of the harbour, the population decreased and the
prosperity of Rye declined. Refugees from France have on two notable
occasions added to the number of its inhabitants. After the Massacre
of St. Bartholomew seven hundred scared and frightened Protestants
arrived at Rye and brought with them their industry, and later on,
after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, many Huguenots settled
here and made it almost a French town. We need not record all the
royal visits, the alarms of attack, the plagues, and other incidents
that have diversified the life of Rye. We will glance at the relics
that remain. The walls seem never to have recovered from the attack of
the French, but one gate is standing--the Landgate on the north-east
of the town, built in 1360, and consisting of a broad arch flanked by
two massive towers with chambers above for archers and defenders.
Formerly there were two other gates, but these have vanished save only
the sculptured arms of the Cinque Ports that once adorned the Strand
Gate. The Ypres tower is a memorial of the ancient strength of the
town, and was originally built by William de Ypres, Earl of Kent, in
the twelfth century, but has received later additions. It has a stern,
gaunt appearance, and until recent times was used as a jail. The
church possesses many points of unique interest. The builders began in
the twelfth century to build the tower and transepts, which are
Norman; then they proceeded with the nave, which is Transitional; and
when they reached the choir, which is very large and fine, the style
had merged into the Early English. Later windows were inserted in the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The church has suffered with the
town at the hands of the French invaders, who did much damage. The old
clock, with its huge swinging pendulum, is curious. The church has a
collection of old books, including some old Bibles, including a
Vinegar and a Breeches Bible, and some stone cannon-balls, mementoes
of the French invasion of 1448.

[Illustration: West Street, Rye]

Near the church is the Town Hall, which contains several relics of
olden days. The list of mayors extends from the time of Edward I, and
we notice the long continuance of the office in families. Thus the
Lambs held office from 1723 to 1832, and the Grebells from 1631 to
1741. A great tragedy happened in the churchyard. A man named Breedes
had a grudge against one of the Lambs, and intended to kill him. He
saw, as he thought, his victim walking along the dark path through the
shrubs in the churchyard, attacked and murdered him. But he had made a
mistake; his victim was Mr. Grebell. The murderer was hanged and
quartered. The Town Hall contains the ancient pillory, which was
described as a very handy affair, handcuffs, leg-irons, special
constables' staves, which were always much needed for the usual riots
on Gunpowder Plot Day, and the old primitive fire-engine dated 1745.
The town has some remarkable plate. There is the mayor's handbell
with the inscription:--

O MATER DEI
MEMENTO MEI.
1566.
PETRUS GHEINEUS
ME FECIT.

The maces of Queen Elizabeth with the date 1570 and bearing the
fleur-de-lis and the Tudor rose are interesting, and the two silver
maces presented by George III, bearing the arms of Rye and weighing
962 oz., are said to be the finest in Europe.

[Illustration: Monogram and Inscription in the Mermaid Inn, Rye]

The chief charm of Rye is to walk along the narrow streets and lanes,
and see the picturesque rows and groups of old fifteenth-and
sixteenth-century houses with their tiled roofs and gables,
weather-boarded or tile-hung after the manner of Sussex cottages,
graceful bay-windows--altogether pleasing. Wherever one wanders one
meets with these charming dwellings, especially in West Street and
Pump Street; the oldest house in Rye being at the corner of the
churchyard. The Mermaid Inn is delightful both outside and inside,
with its low panelled rooms, immense fire-places and dog-grates. We
see the monogram and names and dates carved on the stone fire-places,
1643, 1646, the name Loffelholtz seeming to indicate some foreign
refugee or settler. It is pleasant to find at least in one town in
England so much that has been left unaltered and so little spoilt.

[Illustration: Inscription in the Mermaid Inn, Rye]