a Wooden Bridge by the Brethren of St. Mary; and on page 44 of his
work, already cited, he thus gives the reasons for his non-conformity.
‘As the Ferry,’ he commences, ‘is said to have been the chief support
of the Priory, ’twould have been ridiculous in the Prior and Canons,
to have sacrificed their principal dependence, to enrich themselves
by a wild chimera of increasing their revenues in the execution of a
project, which, probably, would have cost six times the sum of the
intrinsic value of their whole estate; and, when effected, would,
in all likelihood, not have brought in so great an annual sum as
the profits arising by the Ferry, seeing it may be presumed that
foot-passengers would have been exempt from Pontage.’ He next proceeds
to quote a deed of King Henry I., which I shall produce in its proper
order of time, exempting certain Abbey lands from being charged with
the work of London Bridge: which he considers as a sufficient proof
that the Priests of St. Mary did not preserve the erection in repair,
and therefore, says he, ‘as the latter part of this traditionary
account is a manifest falsehood, the former _is very likely_ to be
of the same stamp.’ He then sums up all by these bold words. ‘As it
appears that some religious foundations only were exempt from the
work of this Bridge, and they, too, by charter, _I think ’tis not to
be doubted_, but all civil bodies and incorporations were liable to
contribute to the repairs thereof. And, consequently, that Linsted
and his followers exceed the truth, by ascribing all the praise of so
public a benefaction to a small House of Religious; who, with greater
probability, only consented to the building of this Bridge, upon
sufficient considerations and allowances, to be made to them for the
loss of their Ferry, by which they had been always supported.’ Such
are the objections against the attributing the building of the First
Wooden Bridge to the Monks of Southwark; but we may remark, by the
way, that Stow was a laborious and inquisitive Antiquary, who saw and
inquired, as well as read for himself, and, in all probability, had
both seen and conversed with Prior Fowle; whilst Maitland and Entick
were often contented to write in their libraries from the works of
others, and speak of places with which they were but very slightly
acquainted. We may add too, that, as the Priests of St. Mary were
Regular Canons of St. Austin, by their rule they were not permitted
to be wealthy, but were to sell the whole of their property, give
to the poor, have all things in common, and never be unemployed. I
know very well, that in opposition to Stow’s account of Mary Audery’s
foundation, you may bring forward that assertion made in Stevens’s
‘_Supplement to Dugdale_,’ which I have already cited, volume ii. page
97; wherein she is called ‘a noble woman,’ and, consequently, could
not be the Ferryman’s daughter. But of this let me observe, that the
authority of Stow’s ‘_Survey_,’ given in the margin, is mis-quoted; for
although it is certain that the action itself was sufficiently noble,
yet the old Citizen never calls her other than ‘a Maiden named Mary.’
You may see the place to which Stevens refers, in Strype’s edition of
the ‘_Survey_,’ volume ii. page 10; and let me remark now, before I
quit the history of St. Mary Overies, as connected with that of London
Bridge, that there is yet extant there, a monumental effigy conveying
the strongest lesson of man’s mortality; it being the resemblance of
a body in that state, when corruption is beginning its great triumph.
Prating Vergers and Sextons commonly tell you, that the persons whom
these figures represent, endeavoured to fast the whole of Lent, in
imitation of the great Christian pattern, and that dying in the act,
they were reduced to such a cadaverous appearance at their decease.
There has, however, been a new legend invented for this sculpture,
as it is commonly reported to be that of AUDERY, THE FERRYMAN,
[Illustration]
father of the foundress of St. Mary Overies. It was formerly placed on
the ground, under the North window of the Bishop’s Court, which, before
the present repairs, stood at the North East corner of the Chapel of
the Virgin Mary. Where it will be removed to hereafter, time only can
unfold, for, as yet, even the Churchwardens themselves know not.
“In speaking of this person’s tomb, I must not, however, omit to
notice, that there is a singularly curious, although, probably,
fabulous tract of 30 pages, of his life, the title of which I shall
give you at length. ‘_The True History of the Life and sudden Death of
old John Overs, the rich Ferry-Man of London, shewing, how he lost his
life, by his own covetousness. And of his daughter Mary, who caused the
Church of St. Mary Overs in Southwark to be built; and of the building
of London Bridge._’ There are two editions of this book, the first of
which was published in 12mo., in 1637, and a reprint of it in 8vo.,
which, though it be shorn of the wood-cuts that decorated the _Editio
Princeps_, is, perhaps, the most interesting to us, inasmuch as it
bears this curious imprint.--‘_London: Printed for T. Harris at the
Looking-Glass, on London Bridge: and sold by C. Corbet at Addison’s
Head, in Fleet-street, 1744. Price six pence_.’ You may see this work
in Sir W. Musgrave’s Biographical Tracts in the British Museum; its
first nine pages are occupied with a definition and exhortation against
covetousness, in the best Puritanic style of the seventeenth century;
and then, on page 10, the history opens thus:--‘Before there was any
Bridge at all built over the Thames, there was only a Ferry, to which
divers boats belonged, to transport all passengers betwixt Southwark
and Churchyard Alley, that being the high-road way betwixt Middlesex,
and Sussex, and London. This Ferry was rented of the City, by one John
Overs, which he enjoyed for many years together, to his great profit;
for it is to be imagined, that no small benefit could arise from the
ferrying over footmen, horsemen, all manner of cattle, all market folks
that came with provisions to the City, strangers and others.’
“Overs, however, though he kept several servants, and apprentices, was
of so covetous a soul, that notwithstanding he possessed an estate
equal to that of the best Alderman in London, acquired by unceasing
labour, frugality, and usury, yet his habit and dwelling were both
strongly expressive of the most miserable poverty. He had, as we have
already seen, an only daughter, ‘of a beautiful aspect,’ says the
tract, ‘and a pious disposition; whom he had care to see well and
liberally educated, though at the cheapest rate; and yet so, that
when she grew ripe and mature for marriage, he would suffer no man
of what condition or quality soever, by his good will, to have any
sight of her, much less access unto her.’ A young gallant, however,
who seems to have thought more of being the Waterman’s heir than his
son-in-law, took the opportunity, whilst he was engaged at the Ferry,
to be admitted into her company; ‘the first interview,’ says the story,
‘pleased well; the second better; but the third concluded the match
between them.--In all this interim, the poor silly rich old Ferryman,
not dreaming of any such passages, but thinking all things to be as
secure by land as he knew they were by water,’ continued his former
wretched and penurious course of life. From the disgusting instances
which are given of this caitiff’s avarice, he would seem to have
been the very prototype and model of Elwes and Dancer; and, as the
title-page of the book sets forth, even his death was the effect of
his covetousness. To save the expense of one day’s food in his family,
he formed a scheme to feign himself dead for twenty-four hours; in
the vain expectation that his servants would, out of propriety, fast
until after his funeral. Having procured his daughter to consent to
this plan, even against her better nature, he was put into a sheet,
and stretched out in his chamber, having one taper burning at his
head, and another at his feet, according to the custom of the time.
When, however, his servants were informed of his decease, instead of
lamenting, they were overjoyed; and, having danced round the body, they
brake open his larder, and fell to banqueting. The Ferryman bore all
this as long, and as much like a dead man, as he was able; ‘but, when
he could endure it no longer,’ says the tract, ‘stirring and struggling
in his sheet, like a ghost, with a candle in each hand, he purposed to
rise up, and rate ‘em for their sauciness and boldness; when one of
them thinking that the Devil was about to rise in his likeness, being
in a great amaze, catched hold of the butt-end of a broken oar, which
was in the chamber, and, being a sturdy knave, thinking to kill the
Devil at the first blow, actually struck out his brains.’ It is added,
that the servant was acquitted, and the Ferryman made accessary and
cause of his own death. The estate of Overs then fell to his daughter,
and her lover hearing of it, hastened up from the country; but, in
riding post, his horse stumbled, and he brake his neck on the highway.
The young heiress was almost distracted at these events, and was
recalled to her faculties only by having to provide for her father’s
interment; for he was not permitted to have Christian burial, being
considered as an excommunicated man, on account of his extortions,
usury, and truly miserable life. The Friars of Bermondsey Abbey were,
however, prevailed upon, by money, their Abbot being then away, to
give a little earth to the remains of the wretched Ferryman. But upon
the Abbot’s return, observing a grave which had been but recently
covered in, and learning who lay there, he was not only angry with
his Monks for having done such an injury to the Church, for the sake
of gain, but he also had the body taken up again, laid on the back of
his own Ass, and, turning the animal out at the Abbey gates, desired
of God that he might carry him to some place where he best deserved
to be buried. The Ass proceeded with a gentle and solemn pace through
Kent Street, and along the highway, to the small pond once called St.
Thomas a Waterings, then the common place of execution, and shook
off the Ferryman’s body directly under the gibbet, where it was put
into the ground, without any kind of ceremony. Mary Overs, extremely
distressed by such a succession of sorrows, and desirous to be free
from the importunity of the numerous suitors for her hand and fortune,
resolved to retire into a cloister; which she shortly afterwards did,
having first provided for the foundation of that Church which still
commemorates her name.
“Such is the story related by this tract; and, if it were possible,
one might suppose, that the pious maiden, out of her filial love,
had placed that effigy in her fane, which I before mentioned to be
sculptured in memory of her father; since it would, by no means,
improperly represent the cadaverous features of the old Waterman. The
figure, itself, is of the third form of the classes of Sepulchral
Monuments, invented by Maurice Johnson, Esq.,--namely, tables with
effigies or sculptures,--and the last of the arrangement adopted by
Smart Lethullier, Esq., that is to say,--the representation of a
skeleton in a shroud, lying either under, or on, a table tomb. Richard
Gough, you know, in his ‘_Sepulchral Monuments_,’ London, 1786-96,
folio, volume i., part 1, Introduction, page cxi. where you will
find all these particulars, attributes most of these figures to the
fifteenth century, and Audery certainly died very long before the
time of William I. However this may be, as I am laying before you all
the illustrations of Bridge history, both authentic and traditional,
which are now to be found, I must not omit to add, that the supposed
effigy of Audery is six feet eight inches in length; and represents
his decayed body lying in its winding-sheet. His hair is turned up in
a roll above his head, though in the ‘_History of Southwark_,’ by M.
Concannen, Junior, and A. Morgan, Deptford, 1795, octavo, page 101,
_Note_, he is erroneously stated to have ‘a shorn crown,’ and is,
therefore, supposed to represent Linsted, the last Prior of St. Mary’s.
“Captain Francis Grose has inserted this figure, not very respectably
engraven, in his ‘_Antiquities of England and Wales_,’ London, 1773-87,
royal quarto, six volumes, in the Addenda attached to volume iv.,
plate iii.; and he observes, on page 36, that ‘it is a skeleton-like
figure, of which the usual story is told, that the person thereby
represented attempted to fast forty days, in imitation of Christ,’ as
he remarks on the preceding page, but died in the attempt, having first
reduced himself to that appearance. The best engraving of this effigy
was published in ‘_Mr. J. T. Smith’s Antiquities of London, and its
Environs_,’ London, 1791, quarto.
“Be this figure, however, who it may, the Waterman or the Priest, his
tomb has outlived both his name and his dust. Whether he only carried
passengers over the River Thames, or was occupied in teaching them how
to cross that last fatal River,--which John Bunyan quaintly tells you
hath _no_ Bridge,--‘after life’s fitful fever he sleeps well,’--
“Aye, and so shall I soon,” cried I, stretching myself, and
interrupting Mr. Postern; “let him rest in peace, my good Sir, and come
out of Church now; for, truly, it’s high time to close your Sermon, and
let us hear somewhat about a River which _hath_ a Bridge, that was once
the wonder of the world.”
“I thank you,” replied my narrator, “I thank you, Mr. Geoffrey
Barbican, for recalling me to the subject of our conversation; for this
is the very point at which I would proceed with my history. You know,
Sir,” continued he, in a much brisker tone, “I have already observed to
you, that the First Wooden Bridge was erected much farther to the East
than yonder stone bulwark; for when King William I. granted a Charter
to the foundation of St. Peter’s Abbey, at West-Minster, in the second
year of his reign, A. D. 1067, he confirmed to the Monks serving God in
that place, a Gate in London, then called Butolph’s Gate, with a Wharf
which stood at the head of London Bridge. This has ever been received
as a well-established fact; for Stow relates it in his ‘_Survey_,’
volume i., pages 22 and 58; and Mr. John Dart, in his ‘_History
and Antiquities of the Abbey Church of St. Peter, Westminster_,’
London, 1723, folio, volume i., page 20, supports it, in his List of
Benefactors to the Abbey, in the time of King Edward the Confessor.
“The record is also given at length, by Stow, in English; but you may
see it in the original Latin, in a curious Manuscript in the Cotton
Library, marked _Faustina_, A. iii., which is entitled, ‘_A Registry
of the Regal and Pontifical Charters, Privileges, Agreements, and
Covenants, of the Bishops and Abbots of the Church of the blessed
Peter of Westminster; many whereof are Saxon ones, written in the
Norman-Saxon characters._’ This volume is a little stout quarto,
written in a small fair Church text, on parchment; adorned with many
vermillion initial letters, and rubrics, or heads of chapters. The
Charter to which I have now referred you, chapter xliv., is the last
but one in the reign of King William I., folio 63, b, of the modern
pagination; and, put into English, is as follows:--
“‘Concerning the lands of Almodus, of St. Butolph’s Gate, and of the
Wharf at the head of London Bridge.
“‘William, King of England, to the Sheriffs and all Ministers, as,
also, to his faithful subjects of London, French and English, greeting:
Know ye, that I have granted unto God and to St. Peter of Westminster,
and to the Abbot Vitalis, the House which Almodus, of the Gate of St.
Botolph, gave to them when he was made a Monk; that is to say, his
Lord’s Court, with his Houses, and one Wharf which is at the head of
London Bridge, and others of his lands in the same City, like as King
Edward more fully and beneficially granted them: and I will and command
that they shall enjoy the same well, and quietly, and honourably,
with sake and soke, and shall hold all the customs and laws of the
aforesaid. And I defend them that none shall do them any injury.
Witness, Walkeline, Bishop of Winchester, and William, Bishop of
Durham, and R., Earl of Mell., and Hugh, Earl of Warwick.’
“And now let me remark that, by this we are informed that the City end
of the Bridge was not anciently the foot of it, which is asserted by
the evidence of Richard Newcourt, in his ‘_Ecclesiastical History of
the Diocess of London_,’ London, 1708-10, folio, volume i., page 396,
where he says, that ‘St. Magnus’ Church is sometimes called, in Latin,
the Church of St. Magnus the Martyr, in the City of London, near the
foot, or at the foot, of London Bridge.’
“This First Wooden Bridge, however, was not fated to stand long; for,
on the sixteenth of November, the feast of St. Edmund the Archbishop,
in the year 1091, ‘at the hour of six, a dreadful whirlwind from the
South-East, coming from Africa, blew upon the City, and overthrew
upwards of six hundred houses, several Churches, greatly damaged the
Tower, and tore away the roof and part of the wall of the Church of
St. Mary le Bow, in Cheapside. The roof was carried to a considerable
distance, and fell with such force, that several of the rafters, being
about twenty-eight feet in length, pierced upwards of twenty feet into
the ground, and remained in the same position as when they stood in the
Chapel.’
“The best accounts of this terrible event are to be found in the
‘_Chronicle_’ of Florence of Worcester, page 457, which was literally
copied into the ‘_Annales_’ of Roger de Hoveden, Chaplain to King Henry
II., printed in the ‘_Scriptores post Bedam_,’ already cited, page
462;--in William of Malmesbury, page 125;--and in the ‘_Chronicle_’ of
John of Brompton, which I have also before quoted, page 987.
“During the same storm, too, the water in the Thames rushed along with
such rapidity, and increased so violently, that _London Bridge was
entirely swept away_; whilst the lands on each side were overflowed
for a considerable distance. I cannot help observing how slightly,
and erroneously, the ‘_Annals of Waverley_’ notice this most dreadful
devastation; for at page 137, of the best edition by Dr. Thomas Gale,
volume ii. of his ‘_Historiæ Anglicanæ Scriptores_ xv.’ Oxford, 1691,
folio, they merely state that ‘a vehement wind struck down London
the 6th of the kalends of November,’--that is to say, on the 27th of
October,--‘at the hour of six!’ I doubt not but the truth was, that the
good Monks of Waverley Abbey in Surrey felt nothing of this _ventus
vehemens_ themselves, and therefore gave a much more trivial record of
it, than if it had shaken but a single bell in the turrets of their own
_Cenobium_. The ‘_Annals of Waverley_,’ you know, were, down to about
1120, almost a translation from the ‘_Saxon Chronicle_,’ executed in
the twelfth century. The following year, 1092, the sixth of the reign
of William Rufus, was marked by a season fatal to bridges in general;
although there is no mention that our’s at London participated in the
destruction. This fact is related by William of Malmesbury, page 125,
and by Roger de Hoveden, page 464, in these words:--‘Also, in his
sixth year, there was such an excessive rain, and such high floods,
the rivers overflowing the low grounds that lay near them, as the like
was remembered by none. And afterward, in the winter, ensued a sudden
frost; whereby the great streams were congealed in such a manner that
they could draw two hundred horsemen and carriages over them; whilst at
their thawing, many bridges, both of wood and stone, were borne down,
and divers water mills were broken up and carried away!’
“Frequent destructions by fire seem, also, to have been a very general
fate of all our ancient buildings; for, in 1093, the wooden houses and
straw roofs of the London Citizens were again in flames, and a great
part of the City was thus destroyed.
“Too soon after this calamity, at a most inauspicious time for
commencing, or executing, expensive public works, in 1097, King William
Rufus imposed a heavy tax upon his subjects for the re-building of
London Bridge,--though _that_ might very well be defended,--the
erecting of the palace of West-Minster Hall, and the construction
of a wall round the Tower. The ‘_Saxon Chronicle_’ speaks of these
ill-advised undertakings in the blended tones of sorrow and of anger.
‘This was, in all things,’ says that faithful old history, at pages
316, 317, ‘a very heavy-timed year, and beyond measure laborious from
the badness of the weather, both when men attempted to till the land,
and, afterwards, to gather the fruits of their tilth; and from unjust
contributions they never rested. Many counties also, that were confined
to London by work, were grievously oppressed, on account of the wall
that was building about the Tower, and _the Bridge that was nearly all
afloat_, and the King’s Hall that they were building at West-Minster;
and many men perished thereby.’
“Our brave old River of Thames itself, however, is of the same
changeful nature as Luna, the mistress of his tides; for, if at one
time, he overflows his banks, blows up his Bridge, or drowns an
invading army, by the fury of his waves; at another season he contracts
his waters into their narrowest channel, or draws them back into his
urn, without leaving enough to float a wherry over his bed. Of this
I shall give you several instances, as we get lower down the stream
of time; and now only remark, in chronological order, that on the 6th
of the Ides of October, _videlicet_ the 10th, in the 15th Year of the
reign of Henry I. 1114, the River was so dried up, and there was such
want of water, that between the Tower of London and the Bridge, and
even under it, ‘a great number of men, women, and children,’--says
Stow, in his ‘_Survey_,’ volume i. page 58,--‘did wade over both on
horse and foot,’ the water coming up to their knees.
“The original account of this is to be found in the ‘_Annales_’
of Roger de Hoveden, page 473; from whom we derive the additional
information, that this defect of water commenced in the middle of the
night preceding, and lasted until the darkest part of the next. The
same historian, also, records, on the same page, that in the year 1115,
the winter was so severe, that all throughout England the Bridges were
broken by the ice.
“But although London Bridge was an edifice to which there was a
continual and heavy cost attached, yet its possessions were, even
anciently, very extensive; for you find that so early as in the
23d year of Henry I., A. D. 1122, Thomas de Ardern, and Thomas his
son, gave to the Monks of Bermondsey, and the Church of St. George
in Southwark, the tenth of his Lord’s corn lands in Horndon, and
the immense sum of Five Shillings per annum rent, out of the Lands
pertaining to London Bridge. Calculate this, my good Sir, at twenty
times its present value; for we know that in the Great Charter of
King John, Chapter II. a knight paid but five pounds to the King as a
Relief when he came to his estate; and _that_, Lord Coke tells you in
his _Second Institute_, even several years later, was the fourth part
of his annual income. Remember too, that sixpence by the week was then
a living stipend to an ordinary labourer; that the Black Book of the
Exchequer--which was written about the reign of Henry I.--ordains that
a tenant shall pay one shilling to the King, instead of providing bread
for one hundred soldiers for one meal; that the provender of twenty
horses for one night, also to be paid by a tenant, was commuted for
four pence; that in 1185, the tenants of Shireburn paid by custom two
pence, or four hens, which they would; and, lastly, recollect, that
in 1125,--called by Robert de Monte, the dearest year ever known,--a
horseload of wheat was sold but for six shillings: in ordinary times,
as in 1043, it was sixpence the quarter. Of all this you may see
most abundant and curious proof, in Bishop Fleetwood’s ‘_Chronicon
Preciosum_,’ London, 1745, 8vo. pages 55, 56; and therefore the gift of
Thomas de Ardern was munificent.
“I should observe that Stow obtained the knowledge of this donation
from the manuscript ‘_Annals of Bermondsey Priory_,’ which are now
preserved in the Harleian Library in the British Museum, No. 231,
very fairly written in a good legible black text upon vellum; having
vermillion rubrics of the King’s Reign, and the date of the year. It is
a rather small quarto volume, of 71 written leaves, delicately paged
by some later hand; and the passage occurs on the reverse of folio 11.
The Harleian Catalogue calls it, in Latin, ‘the Annals of the Abbey
of St. Saviour’s of Bermondesie, from the year of our Lord 1042, down
to the year of our Lord 1433; in which, beside the public affairs of
each reign,’--told in the words of other Chronicles--‘many things are
narrated which belong to the history of the same Abbey.’
“You have already seen that London Bridge was a public work, to which
all England furnished some labourers; but, as I mentioned some time
back, Maitland, in his ‘_History of London_,’ volume i. page 44,
notices a deed cited by Stow, exempting the lands of Battle Abbey, in
Sussex. This was granted by King Henry I. but is perhaps now lost, for
it remains wholly unnoticed by the learned Editors of the new edition
of Dugdale’s ‘_Monasticon_;’ and I must therefore give it you in the
very words of the old Antiquary himself, who says, page 58, that in
his time it remained with the seal very fair, in the custody of Joseph
Holland, Esq.;--it is as follows:--
“‘Henry, King of England, to Ralph, Bishop of Chichester, and all the
Officers of Sussex, sendeth greeting. Know ye, &c. I command by my
kingly authority, that the manor called Alceston, which my father gave
with other lands to the Abbey of Battle, be free and quiet from shires
and hundreds, and all other customs of earthly servitude, as my father
held the same, most freely and quietly; and namely, _from the work of
London Bridge_, and the work of the Castle at Pevensey: and this I
command upon my forfeiture. Witness, William Pont de l’Arche, at Berry.’
“The second year of the succeeding King, however, namely Stephen,
saw London Bridge in a state to require the exertions of all England
to raise it: for, in 1136, a fire broke out in the dwelling of one
Aileward, near London Stone, that consumed Eastward as far as Aldgate;
and to the Shrine of St. Erkenwald, in St. Paul’s Cathedral, to the
West. On the Southern side of London the Wooden Bridge over the Thames
was destroyed, but was soon after repaired, since Stephanides, whose
description of London was written between 1170 and 1182, speaks of
it as affording a convenient standing place to the spectators of the
Citizens’ Water Tournaments. I shall give you the whole passage,
because it describes a very curious sport of the twelfth century,
which was celebrated in the immediate vicinity of this very spot; and
the account is at page 76, beginning ‘_In feriis Paschalibus_;’ we’ll
content ourselves, however, with Dr. Pegge’s translation of it, which
runs thus.