characters, 1000 yeere old. The Vestry, & therein | cheere this large & sumptuous Table was furnish'd wee saw diverse fayre Coapes of severall rich workes, with. of Crimson Satten, imbroder'd with emboss'd worke of Silver, besett all over with Cherubims curiously wrought to life. A black Coap wrought wth Gold, wth diverse Images in colours. A High Altar Cloth, of Crimson Velvet, to cov" the Table; an other of Purple Velvet to hang above; and a third of Crimson & Purple, to lay beneath, & 4 other rich Coapes & vestments, and although they cannot show the like Royall gift of Plate as we view'd at Yorke, yet they glory in that rich gift they presented to his Matie in his Progresse, the richest of all their ancient Coapes, wch his Matie graciously accepted, and esteem'd at an high valew. "Away then wee were call'd to Prayers, where wee were rapt wth the sweet sound & richnesse of a fayre Organ, wch cost £1000, and the orderly, devout & melodious Harmony of the Quiristers: There were wee discov'ed by that worthy, grave, generous Deane, I before spoke off, (Dr. Hunt), & no sooner was prayers done, but wee were summon'd by one of his gentile Ambassadors, to take part of a Resident Dinner with him, wch had wee not freely and cheerefully accepted off, wee had lost our selves, & that noble entertainment, such as was fit for neat palated Courtiers, & not for such dusty travelling Soldiers as wee were. "The first salute & welcome from this worthy Gentleman was exprest with a double reflect upon us; first, as we were Strangers, but more especially as we were his Countrymen. It pleas'd him to leave all his Guests, Doctors, Prebends, and Citizens of both Sexes, & of both kinds spirituall & layitie, & to condiscend to walke wth us in his Garden, about halfe an houre, till his Gent. Usher, the harbinger of Dinner, come & told him his meat was on the Table: wee wish'd the Cooke had not beene so hasty, or that he had layen longer in bed for his grave discourse was so mild, sweet, & eloquent, as would make a man soe in a trance, as never to be weary of hearing him: The same curteous usage wee had in his Garden, the same wee had at his Board, which neither wanted good Dishes nor Company, for there were of both choice, and plenty. "After halfe an houres sitting there came a young Scholler, & read a Chapter, during wch time all discourse ceas'd: no sooner was itt ended, but the grave Master of the House begins a Cup of Wine to all his Guests, with a hearty welcome, wch his gentile Servitors were careful to see every man pledge, to wash downe the fat Venison, sweet Salmon, & other great "Thus we spent an houre to refresh our travelling Corps, wth as good meat & drinke, & from as good, as free, & as generous a Gentleman as England affords: Soone after Dinner wee bethought our selves of our Journey, & so agreed to take our leaves of him, but his reply to our requests was to stay still wth him a weeke longer; our cheare, & welcome should be the same we had found: we mildly press'd for his licence to depart, telling him how we had resolv'd, and order'd our Journey. A noble Doctor standing by (in our behalfes wee thanke him) told Mr. Deane that the greatest freedome Strangers could have was to enjoy their Liberties: well, said this grave Orator, since I can no longer enjoy you, I shall wish & pray for a happy & prosperous Journey to attend you, & soe I commit you into the hands of my Jalor, his Gentleman Usher, one of our countrymen standing by."---They then took leave of their hospitable host. The travellers passing by Bear Park the seat of Dean Hunt & Lumley Castle, descended "the steep rocky hill," to the town of "Gateside" [Gateshead], & crossing the Tyne, "by a fayre stone Bridge of 10 Arches, wth some Towers, to which come the Shipps," they arrived at Newcastle. "The key," says the Writer, "is fayre, & long, & a strong wall there is betweene it and the Towne, on which we march'd all abreast: On the top of the old Castle, built by Robert D. of Normandy, wee saw all the way downe to Shields some 7 miles distance, where the Seas entrance is, in wch Channell lay not that number of Shipps, Vessells, & Barkes that sometimes doth, for we were inform'd that the River is capable of receiving 2, 3, 4, or 500 sayle at a time, and to ride therein safely at Anchor, wth out damnifying one another. "The Towne is surrounded wh a strong and fayre built wall, with many Towers thereon. It hath 7 Gates, and is governed by a Mayor, then fat and rich vested in a Sack of Sattin, & 12 Aldermen. The last Mayor, and now Recorder did both endure knighthood in his Maties late Progress. Then did we take a view of the Market place, the Towne Hall, the neat Crosse, over against wch almost, is a stately, princelike, free-stone Inne, in weh we tasted a cup of good wine, then taking a view of the 4 Churches in the Towne, and breaking our fast in that fayre Inne, we hastned to take Horse; and now are we ready to take our leaves of the Progresse way, having no stomackes for Tweed, nor those Inhabitants." (To be continued.) THE annexed representations and following description of the honorary shield of Edward, the Black Prince, (as formerly preserved in Canterbury Cathedral,) and that of his third brother, John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, (formerly preserved in the Cathedral Church of St. Paul's, London), are derived from a scarce and curious treatise upon heraldry, entitled, "The Elements of Armories. Printed at London, by George Eld. 1610." "The triangular, (or Samnit,) was universallie among us, the ancient fashion of Shields for Men of Armes, but not the onely. "For assurance whereof, I will delight you with two diverse proportions, the one of an honorary belonging to the most renowned Edward, Prince of Wales; the other (an honorarie also), appertaining to his third brother, King of Castile and Leon, Duke of Lancaster. "The sayd victorious Princis Tombe, is in the goodly Cathedral Church, erected to the honor of Christ, in Canterburie: There, (beside his guilted coat-armour with half sleeves, Taberd fashion, and his triangular Shield, both of them painted with the royall Armories of our Kings, and differenced with silver labells), hangs this kinde of Pavis, or Targat, curiously, (for those times), embost and painted, the Scucheon in the Cosse being worn out, and the Armes, (which it seemes were the same with his coat-armour, "The other honorarie Shield is in the most magnificent Temple, dedicated to the memorie of the glorious Apostle, Saint Paul, in London, where it hangs at the sayd Duke's Moniment, (John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster), and is farre different from the first. "In the curious neere view, and handling whereof, as I took singular delight, so was it worthy no lesse diligence, and therefore I will heere showe you both the figure and fabrick. "It is very convex toward the bearer, whether by warping through age, or as made of purpose. It hath in dimensions more than three quarters of a yeard of length, and above half a yearde in breadth: next to the body is a canvass, glewd to a boord, upon that thin boord are broad thin axicles, slices, or plates of horne, naild fast, and againe over them, twenty and sixe thick peeces of the like, all meeting, or centring about a round plate of the same, in the navell of the Shield, and over all is a leather clozed fast to them with glew, or other holdinge stuffe, uppon which his Armories were painted, but now they, with the leather itself, have very lately and very lewdly bin utterly spoil'd." NEW CHURCH IN WOBURN SQUARE, IN consequence of the very great increase, of late years, in the buildings and population of the parish of St. George, Bloomsbury, and particularly on the estate of the Duke of Bedford, (including the extensive tract formerly called the Long Fields,) it became expedient to build an additional place of worship, for the better accommodation of the inhabitants. Designs, therefore, for a new Church, to be erected on the eastern side of Woburn Square, having been pre- | edifice was raised from the plans and under the superpared by different architects, and laid before the intendence of that ingenious architect. The annexed "Commissioners," that proposed by Lewis Vulli- cut has been executed from a spirited outline by Mr. amy, Esq. obtained the preference; and the present Vulliamy, who has favoured us with the following VOL. I. K information." The interior extent of the building | of Babel the younger! Verily Joliffe and Banks is about seventy feet square; the height of the church have a heavy debt to answer for with Antiquity. is nearly fifty feet; and of the spire one hundred and But if we deplore that venerable old fabric, how fifty feet the clerestory is in the form of a Greek shall we find words to express our admiration of cross, being a transept with equal arms. It conthat which is new? Five arches of matchless sweep tains sufficient accommodation for one thousand five span Britain's royal river; Criticism is at a fault, hundred persons, of which one-third are free sittings. and the whole work appears so massive and yet so The cost of erection is under £8000." As this church light as to call forth our loudest tribute of respect at is not entirely completed, we shall defer any further the name of Rennie; nor should the meed of approdescription until after the consecration. It is designed bation be withheld from Knight, the ingenious enin the Pointed style of architecture; and is a very gineer who directed the labour. pleasing adaptation of that mode of building to our present customs. EXTRACTS But we have been fleeting by many objects of interest almost unnoticed. Waterloo Bridge, worthy of the name; Somerset House; the Temple and its gardens, with their recollections of chivalry and genius; Alsatia, that olden haunt of wickedness, immortalised by the hand of a Scott; Blackfriars; Castle Baynard; Bankside and the Globe Theatre, the haunt of Shakspeare and “ rare Ben Jonson;" and as we FROM A TRAVELLER'S PORTFOLIO. No. II. glide peacefully below the arches of New London GREENWICH,---ITS HOSPITAL AND DISTRICT. GREENWICH is an interesting place. Its princely hospital and verdant park; its broad and noble river; its olden recollections of royalty and rejoicing; its distinguished connexion with science; and, "last not least," its association with "Britain's Wooden Walls," comes home at once to the heart of every Englishman. Bridge, we glance for a moment at the imposing pile of St. Saviour's---listen to the cheering sounds of its unrivalled peal of bells; and then with a hasty view of the motley multitude that stream across the bridge, almost from sunrise till midnight, dismiss all recollection of "above" as we fleet away onwards below bridge." Leaving Billingsgate and the immense pile of the Custom House, we gaze with strong feelings on the Tower of London, connected with so much that is interesting or illustrious in English history; shudder as we pass the Traitor's gate; and then plunge amongst that wilderness of masts, the haven of the flags of all nations, and the best evidence of our commercial greatness, which forms a picture so imposing and so novel when viewed from the distant parapet of London Bridge. Then come the splendid establishments at the St. Katherine's and London Docks; and now we glide over the Thames Tunnel, that' great bore,' as our city friends facetiously term it, (leaving the lofty pile of Scott's Granary, the largest in the world, covering an acre of ground, to the right) and spreading our way among the numberless tiers of sturdy colliers, pass Cuckold's Point, and at last enter the wide expanse of Limehouse reach. Here, as a gallant ship was wearing down the reach, we thought of far distant scenes of To visit Greenwich rightly we must go by water. To proceed by land to this ship in stone would be out of character; we should be land lubbers indeed not to prefer the liquid expanse. Besides, we are emulating in an humble way the lordly water pageants of the days of bluff King Hal and Elizabeth Regina;-and "how many adventures shall we encounter by the way?" methinks we hear a gentle voice exclaim, as we dart forth from "Hungerford Stairs," on the tide - rippled bosom of old Father Thames. One at least is removed. Venerable old Bridge! Man, more ruthless than even Time, hath levelled thy glory,---not into the dust, but below the surface of the waters. The tales of "shooting" thee will soon be considered traditionary. How that little word "shooting" thrills to one's mind; rushing wa-peril and adventure, when lo! three or four steamers ters and eddying whirlpools; the crashing boat; the agonizing scream of the sinking victim; are now hushed we hope for ever. Representative of six centuries, type of the olden time, what tales couldst thou not have unfolded of the "sayings and doings" came sweeping up the river, convulsing it to its inmost depths, and all was smoke and bustle and interest. Away dart the glory of modern discoveries amid ripple and dash and spray; but, putting head to swell, we ride over the miniature waves in safety. In What panic and confusion would the sight of these | woode (that was on fire) to waxe greene again, of marine wonders tearing up the waters have excited whom Virgile said, Et viridi gaudens Feronia luco." in the little flotilla of Elizabeth! The stoutest heart would have quailed. We leave behind us the West India and other extensive ranges of Docks in our progress towards Deptford. Its ancient and extensive royal dock-yard, illustrious in Britain's naval annals, is now almost literally a solitude; and with its once merry but now partly deserted town, affords us a melancholy lesson on commercial instability. But now the beautiful hanging woods of Blackheath and Greenwich Park, with the far-famed Observatory, rise before us and crest the distant heights. The landsman gazes with wonder on the old Dreadnought, a ninety-eight gun ship, which having done its duty at Trafalgar and elsewhere, is now the Seaman's Hospital, the asylum of the sick and disabled mariners of all nations; and close astern that most patriotic of institutions, the Marine Society's Ship lies moored. Yet a little while and we fully opened Greenwich reach, and the stately domes and regal pile of the Royal Hospital rose over the waters, its broad masses and palatial grandeur being thrown into deep shadow by a passing cloud. Greenwich was called by the Romans Grenovicum, and in Saxon Grenawic, or the Green town. In ancient evidences, Eastgreenwiche, for difference sake from Deptford, which in olde instruments is called Westgreenewiche. In the time of the turmoiled King Ethelred, the whole fleete of the Danish army lay at roade two or three yeres together before Greenewich; and the souldiours, for the most part, were encamped upon the hill above the towne now called Blackheath. During this time (1011) they pierced the whole countrie, sacked & spoiled the citie of Canterburie, & brought from thence to their ships, Alepheg, [Alphege], the archbishop. And here a Dane (called Thrum), whome the archbishop had confirmed in Christianitie the day before, strake him on the head behinde, & slew him, because he would not condescend to redeeme his life with three thousand pounds, which the people of the citie & diocesse were contented to have given for his ransome; neither would the rest of the souldiors suffer his body to be committed to the earth, after the manner of Christian decencie, till such time (saith Wil- | liam of Malmesb.), as they perceived that a dead sticke, being annointed with his bloud, waxed suddenly greene againe, and began the next day to blossome. Which by all likelyhood was gathered in the wood of Dia Feronia: for she was a Goddesse, whom the Poets do phantasie to have caused a whole The present church of St. Alphege in Greenwich stands on the spot where he suffered martyrdom. William the Conqueror granted the manor of Greenwich to his half-brother, the Bishop of Baieux and Earl of Kent, who afterwards fell into disgrace. Henry IV. made his will here in 1408. In Henry the Fifth's time it was still a small fishing town. the eleventh year of Henry VI. Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, (says Lambarde) " the Protectour of the Realme, (a man no lesse renowned for approved vertue and wisedome, than honoured for his high estate and parentage,) was the first that laid the foundations of the faire building in the towne, and towre in the Parke, and called it his manor of pleasance." He also had a grant "to enclose two hundred acres of land at Greenwich, to hold the same in fee, and to make a Park.": Four years afterwards he obtained a further grant "to impark more ground;" and received also license to build and fortify a tower with a moat round the same, (called Greenwich Castle; the site of the present Observatory), which was not then lawful without a license," for fear of inward sedition." Soon after the Duke erected the Palace anew on the spot where the west wing of the Hospital now stands; but it reverted to the crown on his death, in the twenty-fifth year of the same reign. At this time the manors of Greenwich and Lewisham were in the possession of the monks, "which gave continual umbrage to the princely inhabitants." Edward IV. and Henry VII. " took great delight in improving this palace," and resided here much, often keeping Christmas with great rejoicing. Many magnificent jousts and banquets were given here by Henry VIII. who also greatly beautified and extended the edifice. This sovereign, his brother Edmund, Queen Mary, "the ladye Elizabeth," and several children of James I. were born here; and Edward VI. died within the walls. Queen Elizabeth always exhibited the greatest partiality for the place of her birth. In 1559, the City of London gave a magnificent pageant here, entertaining her with great splendour, and we are told that "the Queen went into the Park, and showed herself very merry." A curious description of the Queen and her court at Greenwich appears in the travels of Paul Hentzner, a German, who had an audience here in 1598. She often made progresses into Kent * Vide Lambarde's "Perambulation of Kent," 8vo. 1570, p. 429. #Ibid. |