John and Betty's History Visit Part 4

The previously-mentioned White Tower stands in the center of all the other surrounding buildings. It is large and square, with turrets at the four corners,--an ideal old fortress. As they approached, the guide took out some keys and unlocked a door, starting down some steps into the darkness. "Oh, the dungeons!" gasped Betty, and she and Barbara s.h.i.+vered a little, as they followed.

Just at the foot they halted, and the guide showed them some round holes in the floor.

"'Ere's where they fastened down the rack. This 'ere's the Torture Chamber. You may think that being so near the entrance, the cries of the victims could be 'eard by the people outside, lady, but these walls are so thick that there was no possible chance of that. Ah, down in these parts is where we still see things, ladies!"

"Why, what do you mean?" whispered John, dreading and yet longing to hear.

Thus encouraged, their guide continued:--

"Once h'every month, it is my turn to watch down 'ere, during the night. Some of us don't like to admit it, lady, but we h'all dread that! Many things which 'ave never been written down in 'istory, 'ave 'appened in these 'ere pa.s.sages and cells! Ah, there are figures glide around 'ere in the dead o' night, and many's the times I've 'eard screams, way in the distance, as though somebody was being 'urt! Now, this way, please, and I'll show you Guy Fawkes's cell,--'im h'as was the originator of the Gunpowder Plot, and tried to blow up the 'ouses of Parliament."

They felt their way along the uneven floors, and peered into the darkness of Guy Fawkes's cell, which was called "Little Ease."

"Just imagine having to stay long in there!" sighed Betty. "Not able to stand up, lie down, or even sit up straight! Did they make it that way on purpose, do you think?"

"They certainly did, Miss," declared the guide. "They tried to make 'im confess 'o 'ad a.s.sociated with 'im in the plot; but 'e wouldn't, and they finally put 'im on the rack, poor man! A terrible thing was that rack!"

"Let's come away now," broke in Mrs. Pitt quickly. "I really think we have all had about enough of this, and there are more cheerful things to be seen above."

So they threaded their way out to the entrance again, getting whiffs of damp, disagreeable air from several dark dungeons, and pa.s.sing through a number of great apartments stacked with guns. It was a relief to gain the main part of the building, where other people were, and plenty of warmth and sunlight. Their spirits rose, and they laughed and joked while climbing the narrow, spiral stairs.

The large room in which they found themselves was filled with weapons also, and various relics of the old Tower. It was used as the great Banqueting-hall when the Tower was the Royal Palace, as well as the fortress, the State prison, the Mint, the Armory, and the Record Office. The apartment above this was the Council Chamber. They went up.

"It was here that Richard II gave up his crown to Henry of Bolingbroke who became Henry IV, by demand of the people," said Mrs. Pitt.

"Richard was a weak, cruel king, you remember, and was confined in a distant castle, where he was finally murdered. Suppose we examine some of this armor now. This suit here belonged to Queen Elizabeth's favorite, the Earl of Leicester. Notice the initials R. D., which stand for his name, Robert Dudley. This here was made for Charles I when he was a boy; and that belonged to Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk; and this, to Henry VIII himself. Aren't they interesting?

Yes, what's that you have found, Barbara?"

The two boys were absorbed in the armor for some time, but Barbara and Betty liked a figure on horseback, which represents Queen Elizabeth as she looked when she rode out in state. It is strangely realistic, for the figure is dressed in a gown of the period said to have belonged to that Queen.

"Do you suppose that jewels were sewn into the dress where those round holes are?" asked Betty, gently touching the faded velvet with one finger.

They all examined the dreadful instruments of torture, some of them taken from the Armada, and the ghastly headsman's block and mask, and then they descended the winding stairs again and went into the little shadowy St. John's Chapel, on the floor with the Banqueting-hall.

"I want you all to remember that this is called the 'most perfect Norman chapel in England,'" began Mrs. Pitt. "Some day when you have learned more about architecture, that will mean a great deal to you.

These heavy circular pillars and the horseshoe arches show the ancient Norman style. It's a quaint place, isn't it? Here Brackenbury, the Lieutenant of the Tower, was praying one evening when the order came to him to murder the two little Princes. In this chapel, the Duke of Northumberland, the aged father of Lady Jane Grey, heard Ma.s.s before he went out to execution. 'b.l.o.o.d.y Mary' came here to attend service upon the death of her brother, Edward VI. Somewhere on the same floor of this tower, John Baliol, the Scotch King, was imprisoned and lived for some time in great state. There is (at any rate, there was) a secret pa.s.sage between this chapel and the Royal Apartments. I have read so much about the dreadful conspirators who skulked about the Tower, and the fearful deeds that were done here, that I can almost see a man in armor, with drawn sword, lurking behind one of these pillars!"

Some soldiers in their gay uniforms were parading on Tower Green when they went out again, and the scene was a merry, bright one.

"How different from the days when the scaffold stood under those trees!" exclaimed Mrs. Pitt, as they approached the fatal spot. "Here perished Lady Jane Grey, Anne Boleyn, Katharine Howard, and Queen Elizabeth's unfortunate favorite, the Earl of Ess.e.x. Most of the victims were beheaded just outside, on Tower Hill. Now, we'll look into St. Peter's Chapel."

It is a gloomy, unattractive enough little chapel, but there are buried here many ill.u.s.trious men and women, whose lives were unjustly taken by those in power. Here lie the queens who suffered at the Tower, and, strangely enough, their tombs are mostly unmarked. John Fisher, the ancient Bishop of Rochester, lies here, and Guildford Dudley, husband to Lady Jane Grey, the Earl of Arundel, Sir Thomas More, and many others whose names are forever famous.

Our party visited the little room in the Beauchamp Tower, which so many examine with intense interest. Many people were imprisoned there, and the walls are literally covered with signatures, verses, coats-of-arms, crests, and various devices cut into the stone by the captives. Perhaps the most famous is the simple word "JANE," said to have been done by her husband, Guildford Dudley. A secret pa.s.sage has been discovered extending around this chamber, and probably spies were stationed there to watch the prisoners and listen to what they said.

"That's the Brick Tower," said Mrs. Pitt, pointing to it with her umbrella, as she spoke. "There's where Lady Jane Grey was imprisoned, and there Sir Walter Raleigh lived during his first stay at the Tower.

It was when he was in the Beauchamp Tower, however, that he burnt part of his 'History of the World,' the work of many years. It happened in a curious way! Do you know the story? He was at his window one morning and witnessed a certain scene which took place in the court beneath.

Later, he talked with a friend who had been a nearer spectator of this identical scene, and they disagreed entirely as to what pa.s.sed.

Raleigh was very peculiarly affected by this little incident. He reasoned that if he could be so much mistaken about something which had happened under his very eyes, how much more mistaken must he be about things which occurred centuries before he was born. The consequence was that he threw the second volume of his ma.n.u.script into the fire, and calmly watched it burn. Think of the loss to us! Poor Raleigh! He was finally beheaded, and I should think he would have welcomed it, after so many dreary years of imprisonment. He is buried in St. Margaret's Church, beside Westminster Abbey, you know."

"Was there a real palace in the Tower?" inquired Betty, while they retraced their steps under the b.l.o.o.d.y Tower and back toward the entrance. "Isn't there any of it remaining?"

"Yes, there was a palace here once, for royalty lived in the Tower through the reign of James I. No part of it now exists, however. It stood over beyond the White Tower, in a part which visitors are not now allowed to see."

On a hill just outside the Tower, in the center of a large, barren square, is a little inclosed park with trees and shrubbery. Here stood the scaffold where almost all of the executions were held. The place is now green and fruitful, but it is said that on the site of the scaffold within the Tower, gra.s.s cannot be made to grow.

As they walked toward a station of the "Tube," an underground railway, John suddenly heaved a great sigh of relief and exclaimed:

"Well, I tell you what! I've learned heaps, but I don't want to hear anything more about executions for a few days! What do you all say?"

CHAPTER SIX

ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL AND ITS VICINITY

When Betty came down to her breakfast the following morning, she found her plate heaped with letters and fascinating little parcels of different shapes. For a moment she looked puzzled, then she exclaimed:

"Oh! I know! It's my birthday, and I'm having such a splendid time sight-seeing, that I had forgotten all about it! How lovely!" as she glanced again at the presents.

"See, John!" she cried, opening the first package, which had an American postmark, "see what mother has sent me! It is such a pretty tan leather cover, with little handles, to put on my Baedeker. You know I always carry the guidebook, and read about things for Mrs.

Pitt. Now, I can keep the book clean, and besides, people can't recognize me as an American just from seeing my red book! That's a fine idea, I think!"

John thought that his sister was not opening the bundles quite fast enough, so he pounced upon one and unwrapped it for her.

"This long thing is father's gift, Betty. It's an umbrella, of course, and a fine one! Here's a card which says, 'Knowing that two umbrellas could never be amiss in England, I send this.' Do you suppose he guessed that you'd lost yours?"

After the bundles were all opened, the letters hurriedly devoured, and Betty had at last settled down to eating her cold breakfast, Mrs. Pitt said:

"I had not decided exactly what we would do to-day, and now I think I'll let the birthday girl plan. Where will you go, Betty?"

After due consideration, Betty announced that she would choose to visit St. Paul's Cathedral, and afterwards, by way of contrast, to have lunch at the Ches.h.i.+re Cheese.

"What in the world's that?" inquired John.

Mrs. Pitt laughed. "You'll see, for we'll go there, as Betty suggests, when we have seen St. Paul's. I'm not sure whether you'll care to have lunch there, but we'll look in, at any rate. It's rather different from the places where you are accustomed to take your lunch! No, you must wait, John! I'm not going to tell you any more about it!"

"What a beautiful day!" Betty cried, taking her seat on the bus a little later. "I do wish it wouldn't always be so windy, though! I almost lost my hat then!"

"As you stay longer in London, you'll notice that a really clear day is almost always a very windy one as well. We Londoners have to accept the two together," Mrs. Pitt told the visitors.

Leaving Trafalgar Square, the bus carried them by Charing Cross Station, in front of which is a copy of the old Charing Cross. Edward I, when his queen, Eleanor of Castile, died, put up many crosses in her memory, each one marking a spot where her body was set down during its journey to Westminster Abbey for burial. A little farther along, the bus pa.s.sed the odd little church of St. Mary-le-Strand, which is on an "island" in the middle of that wide street and its great busy, hurrying traffic. It is good to remember that on that very spot, the maypole once stood. Narrow side streets lead off the Strand, and looking down them one may see the river, and understand why the street was so named. It originally ran along by the bank of the Thames, and the splendid houses of the n.o.bles lined the way.

"These fine stone buildings on our left are the new Law Courts, and the griffin in the center of the street marks the position of old Temple Bar. There! We've pa.s.sed it, and now we are in Fleet Street.

Temple Bar was the entrance to the 'City,' you know. To this day the King cannot proceed into the 'City' without being first received at Temple Bar, by the Lord Mayor. At one time, the city of London comprised a small area (two and a quarter miles from end to end), and was inclosed by walls and entered by gates. Originally there were but four gates,--Aldgate, Aldersgate, Ludgate, and Bridgegate. Think what a small city it was then! It is curious to know that in spite of that, there were then one hundred and three churches in London. The real center of life for centuries was at 'Chepe,' or Cheapside, as it is now called. You'll see it later."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE KING CANNOT PROCEED INTO THE 'CITY' WITHOUT BEING FIRST RECEIVED AT TEMPLE BAR BY THE LORD MAYOR."--_Page 68._]