 
The church clocks struck nine as she turned into Whitefriars Road, the street where the old bank of Riversborough stood. The houses on each side of the broad and quiet street were handsome, old-fashioned dwelling-places, not one of which had as yet been turned into a shop. The most eminent lawyers and doctors lived in it; and there was more than one frontage which displayed a hatchment, left to grow faded and discolored long after the year of mourning was ended. Here too was the judge's residence, set apart for his occupation during the assizes. But the old bank was the most handsome and most ancient of all those urban mansions. It had originally stood alone on the brow of the hill overlooking the river and the Whitefriars Abbey. Toward the street, when Ronald Sefton's forefathers had realized a fortune by banking, now a hundred years ago, there had been a new frontage built to it, with the massive red brick workmanship and tall narrow windows of the eighteenth century. But on the river side it was still an old Elizabethan mansion, with gabled roofs standing boldly up against the sky; and low broad casements, latticed and filled with lozenge-shaped panes; and half-timber walls, with black beams fashioned into many forms: and with one story jutting out beyond that below, until the attic window under the gable seemed to hang in mid-air, without visible support, over the garden sloping down a steep bank to the river-side. Phebe Marlowe, in her coarse dark blue merino dress, and with her market-basket of golden blossoms on her arm, walked with a quick step along the quiet street, having left her pony at a stable near the entrance to the town. There were few persons about; but those whom she met she looked at with a pleasant, shy, slight smile on her face, as if she almost claimed acquaintance with them, and was ready, even wishful, to bid them good-morning on a day so fine and bright. Two or three responded to this inarticulate greeting, and then her lips parted gladly, and her voice, clear though low, answered them with a sweet good-humor that had something at once peculiar and pathetic in it. She passed under a broad archway at one side of the bank offices, leading to the house entrance, and to the sloping garden beyond. A private door into the bank was ajar, and a dark, sombre face was peering out of it into the semi-darkness. Phebe's feet paused for an instant. "Good-morning, Mr. Acton," she said, with a little rustic courtesy. But he drew back quickly, and she heard him draw the bolt inside the door, as if he had neither seen nor heard her. Yet the face, with its eager and scared expression, had been too quickly seen by her, and too vividly impressed upon her keen perception; and she went on, chilled a little, as if some cloud had come over the clear brightness of the morning. Phebe was so much at home in the house, that when she found the housemaid on her knees cleaning the hall floor, she passed on unceremoniously to the dining-room, where she felt sure of finding some of the family. It was a spacious room, with a low ceiling where black beams crossed and recrossed each other; with wainscoted walls, and a carved chimney-piece of almost black oak. A sombre place in gloomy weather, yet so decorated with old china vases, and great brass salvers, and silver cups and tankards catching every ray of light, that the whole room glistened in this bright May-day. In the broad cushioned seat formed by the sill of the oriel window, which was almost as large as a room itself, there sat the elder Mrs. Sefton, Roland Sefton's foreign mother, with his two children standing before her. They had their hands clasped behind them, and their faces were turned toward her with the grave earnestness children's faces often wear. She was giving them their daily Bible lesson, and she held up her small brown hand as a signal to Phebe to keep silence, and to wait a moment until the lesson was ended. "And so," she said, "those who know the will of God, and do not keep it, will be beaten with many stripes. Remember that, my little Felix." "I shall always try to do it," answered the boy solemnly. "I'm nine years old to-day; and when I'm a man I'm going to be a pastor, like your father, grandmamma; my great-grandfather, you know, in the Jura. Tell us how he used to go about the snow mountains seeing his poor people, and how he met with wolves sometimes, and was never frightened." "Ah! my little children," she answered, "you have had a good father, and a good grandfather, and a good great-grandfather. How very good you ought to be." "We will," cried both the children, clinging round her as she rose from her chair, until they caught sight of Phebe standing in the doorway. Then with cries of delight they flew to her, and threw themselves upon her with almost rough caresses, as if they knew she could well bear it. She received them with merry laughter, and knelt down that their arms might be thrown more easily round her neck. "See," she said, "I was up so early, while you were all in bed, finding May-roses for you, with the May-dew on them. And if your father and mother will let us go, I'll take you up the river to the osier island; or you shall ride my Ruby, and we'll go off a long, long way into the country, us three, and have dinner in a new place, where you have never been. Because it's Felix's birthday." She was still kneeling on the floor, with the children about her, when the door opened, and the same troubled and haggard face, which had peered out upon her under the archway, looked into the room with restless and bloodshot eyes. Phebe felt a sudden chill again, and rising to her feet put the children behind her, as if she feared some danger for them. "Where is Mr. Sefton?" he asked in a deep, hoarse voice; "is he at home, Madame?" Ever since the elder Mr. Sefton had brought his young foreign wife home, now more than thirty years ago, the people of Riversborough had called her Madame, giving to her no other title or surname. It had always seemed to set her apart, and at a distance, as a foreigner, and so quiet had she been, so homely and domesticated, that she had remained a stranger, keeping her old habits of life and thought, and often yearning for the old pastor's home among the Jura Mountains. "But yes," she answered, "my son is late this morning; but all the world is early, I think. It is not much beyond nine o'clock, Mr. Acton. The bank is not open yet." "No, no," he answered hurriedly, while his eyes wandered restlessly about the room; "he is not ill, Madame?" "I hope so not," she replied, with some vague uneasiness stirring in her heart. "Nor dead?" he muttered. "Dead!" exclaimed both Madame and Phebe in one breath; "dead!" "All men die," he went on, "and it is a pleasant thing to lie down quietly in one's own grave, where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. He could rest soundly in the grave." "I will go and see," cried Madame, catching Phebe by the arm. "Pray God you may find him dead," he answered, with a low, miserable laugh, ending in a sob. He was mad; neither Madame nor Phebe had a doubt of it. They put the children before them, and bade them run away to the nursery, while they followed up the broad old staircase. Madame went into her son's bedroom; but in a few seconds she returned to Phebe with an anxious face. "He is not there," she said, "nor Felicita. She is in her own sitting-room, where she likes not to be followed. It is her sacred place, and I go there never, Phebe." "But she knows where Mr. Sefton is," answered Phebe, "and we must ask her. We cannot leave poor Mr. Acton alone. If nobody else dare disturb her, I will." "She will not be vexed with you," said Madame Sefton. "Knock at this door, Phebe; knock till she answers. I am miserable about my son." Several times Phebe knocked, more loudly each time, until at last a low voice, sounding far away, bade them go in. Very quietly, as if indeed they were stepping into some holy place barefooted, they crossed the threshold. clamation,1487 their conduct would have met with universal approbation. Instead of this they again set to work pulling down roods, smashing up ancient tombs and committing to the flames vestments[pg 488] The claims of Mary Stuart, 1559-1560. In the meantime the state of affairs with France and Scotland demanded Elizabeth's attention. The marriage of Mary Stuart with the Dauphin of France had taken place in April, 1558, and the sudden death of Henry II of France by an accident at a tournament had soon afterwards raised her and her husband to the throne. Mary now assumed the arms and style of Queen of England, and the life-long quarrel between her and Elizabeth was about to commence. By the end of the year (1559) Mary had collected a sufficient force at her back to render her mistress of Scotland. In the following January a French fleet was ready to set sail. Nevertheless Elizabeth refused to take any active measures to meet the enemy and to prevent them effecting a landing. On the 6th she caused proclamation to be made for French subjects to be allowed perfect freedom as in time of peace, but English vessels were to be held in readiness "untill yt maye appeare to what ende the greate preparaciouns of Fraunce do entende."1490 Long after the appearance of a French fleet off the coast of Scotland, and when it had been driven to take refuge in Leith harbour, Elizabeth still declared her intention of[pg 489] The French war, 1562-1564. In 1561 Mary, who had declined to recognise the treaty of Edinburgh from the first, returned to Scotland, in spite of Elizabeth's prohibition, and soon succeeded in drawing over many Protestants to her side. In the following year an opportunity offered itself to Elizabeth for striking a blow at her rival—not in Scotland, but in France. A civil war had broken out between the French Protestants—or Huguenots, as they were called—and their Catholic fellow-subjects, and Elizabeth promised (Sept., 1562) to assist the leaders of the Huguenots on condition that Havre—or Newhaven, as the place was then known—was surrendered to her as security for the fulfilment of a promise to surrender Calais. The queen (23 July, 1562) applied by letter to the City of London for a force of 600 men to be held in readiness to march at a moment's notice. She had determined, the letter said, to put the sea coast into a "fencible arraye of warre."1493 The men[pg 490] Soldiers for the defence of Havre. 1563. In 1563 a peace was patched up, and the Catholics and Huguenots united in demanding from Elizabeth the restoration of Havre. The queen refused to surrender the town, and again called upon the City of London to furnish her with 1,000 men for the purpose of enabling her to secure Havre, and to compel the French to surrender Calais as promised.1496 The Court of Aldermen hesitated to raise so large a force, and sent a deputation of three of their court to wait upon the lords of the Privy Council the same afternoon, with a view to having the number reduced to 500 on the ground that the City had supplied so many soldiers during the past year.1497 The deputation having reported to the court the next day (3 July) that the Privy Council would make no abatement in the number of soldiers to be furnished, it was agreed to renew the application.1498 Again the City's request was refused, and the full number of 1,000 men was apportioned among the livery companies.1499 The citizens, jealous as they always were of the stranger within their gates, availed themselves of a too literal interpretation of a royal proclamation and seized all the Frenchmen they could find in the city with all their belongings. They even went so far as to attack the house of the French ambassador, and would probably have gone[pg 491] On the 8th July the City was informed by letter from the queen that the French had already commenced the siege of Havre, and was asked to have 400 out of the 1,000 men ready to set sail with Lord Clinton by the 16th.1501 This letter was immediately followed by another from Lord Clinton summoning every inhabitant of the city "usinge the exercise of eny kynde of water crafte" before the lord high admiral or his deputy at Deptford on a certain day.1502 The Common Hunt, the city's water-bailiffs, two sergeants-at-mace and two sheriff's officers were appointed by the Court of Aldermen to "conduct" the city's contingent to the fleet lying in the Thames.1503 The loss of Havre, July, 1563. Before the end of July Havre was lost.1504 The garrison had been attacked by a plague, which for more than a twelvemonth had been rampant in London,1505 and the Earl of Warwick, the commander of the town, found himself compelled to accept such terms as he could obtain. The garrison was allowed to leave with all munitions of war. Whilst proclaiming to her subjects the surrender of the town—not through any cowardice on the part of the garrison, but owing to a "plage of infectuous mortall sickness"[pg 492] Peace between England and France signed, 13 April, 1564. The approaching end of the war with France is foreshadowed by an order of the Court of Aldermen (25 Nov., 1563) touching the re-delivery to the various civic companies of the "harness" which they severally provided for the war, and which had been forwarded from Portsmouth and was lying in the Guildhall Chapel.1507 Peace was signed on the 13th April, 1564, and on the 31st July a proclamation was issued for disbanding the navy.1508 Throughout the war Elizabeth had been careful to keep on good terms with Spain, and English vessels found molesting Spanish ships under pretext of searching for French goods were ordered to be arrested.1509 An interruption of commerce with Flanders had been threatened, owing to the Duchess of Parma having forbidden the importation of English woollen cloth into the Low Countries for fear of infection from the plague, but Elizabeth retaliated by closing English ports to all Flemish vessels, and matters were accommodated.1510 The restoration of St. Paul's Cathedral, 1561-1565. The period of peace and tranquillity which ensued enabled the citizens to bestow more attention on their own affairs. Their cathedral stood in urgent need of repairs. Its steeple had been struck by lightning in 1561, and 3,000 marks had already been[pg 493] Sir Thomas Gresham and the City Burse. 1565-1566. The rapid increase of commerce under the fostering care of Elizabeth rendered the erection of a Burse or Exchange for the accommodation of merchants "to treate of their feate of merchandyzes" a pressing necessity. The matter had been mooted thirty years before, but little had been done beyond ascertaining the opinion of merchants as to the most convenient site.1515 The project, however, took root in the mind of Sir Richard Gresham, an alderman of the city, whose business had occasionally carried him to Antwerp, where he became familiar with the Burse that had been recently set up there, and in 1537 (the year that he was elected mayor) he forwarded to Thomas Cromwell, then lord privy seal, a design for a similar Burse to be erected in London. Finding little or no attention paid to his communication he again (25 July, 1538) wrote to Cromwell suggesting the erection of a Burse in Lombard Street—the site favoured by city merchants—at a cost of £2,000. If the lord privy seal would but bring pressure to bear upon Sir George Monoux, a brother alderman but a man of "noe gentyll nature," to part with certain property at cost price, he (Gresham) would undertake[pg 495] It was not long before Gresham made up his mind that London should have a Burse, and in May, 1563, the Court of Aldermen deputed Lionel Duckett, who was also a mercer, to sound Gresham as to "his benevolence towards the makyng of a burse."1521 But however desirous Gresham might be to prosecute the work, he was prevented from doing so by stress of business. Commercial difficulties arose between England and the Low Countries owing to the proclamation of the Duchess of Parma. Up to the year 1564 Gresham was forced to make Antwerp his place of abode, and could only occasionally visit London;[pg 497] Difficulties of obtaining a site. Difficulties at once presented themselves in finding a site. It was originally proposed to obtain from the Merchant Taylors' Company a plot of land between Lombard Street and Cornhill, but the company refused to part with the property and a new site had to be chosen.1524 No sooner was this done, and a place selected to the north of Cornhill, than a difficulty arose between the City and the Dean and Chapter of Canterbury as to the terms of purchase.1525 This having been successfully overcome and the site purchased,[pg 498] Strong foreign element in connection with the building of the first Burse. It is curious to note the strong foreign element in connection with the building of Gresham's Burse. The architect as well as the design of the building came from abroad. The clerk of the works (Henryk)1529 and most of the workmen were foreigners, Gresham having obtained special permission from the Court of Aldermen for their employment.1530 Most of the material for structural as well as ornamental purposes (saving 100,000 bricks provided by the City)1531 came from abroad, and to this day the Royal Exchange is paved with small blocks of Turkish hone-stones believed to have been imported in Gresham's day, and to have been relaid after the several fires of 1666 and 1838. It was the employment of these strangers which probably gave rise to an order of the Court of Aldermen (19 June, 1567) that an officer should be appointed to attend at the Burse daily "for a competent season," to see that no "misorder" be done to any of the artificers or other workmen there[pg 499] The Burse opened by Q. Elizabeth, 23 Jan., 1571. By the 22nd December, 1568, the Burse was so far complete as to allow of merchants holding their meetings within its walls, but it was not until the 23rd January, 1571, that the queen herself visited it in state and caused it thenceforth to be called the Royal Exchange. Her statue which graced the building bore testimony to the care and interest she always displayed in fostering commercial enterprise. Wanton damage done to the new Burse. On the door of a staircase leading up to a "pawne" or covered walk on the south side of the building there had been set up the arms and crest of Gresham himself, which some evilly disposed person took it into his head to deface. A proclamation made by the mayor (16 Feb., 1569) for the apprehension of the culprit does not appear from the city's records to have proved successful.1533 Some years later (21 March, 1577) the mayor had occasion to issue another proclamation for the discovery of persons who had defaced and pulled away "certen peces of timber fixed to thendes and comers of the seates"1534 in the Royal Exchange, with what result we know not. Insurance business carried on at the Royal Exchange. In 1574 the Court of Aldermen appointed a committee to confer with Gresham touching the "assurance" of the Royal Exchange.1535 The connection between the new Burse and insurance is remarkable. The principle of insurance policies had[pg 500] In order to put an end to the frequent disputes which arose in the Royal Exchange among merchants on matters of insurance, the Court of Aldermen appointed two of their number to consider the difficulty and to report thereon. They made their report to the court on the 29th January, 1577.1540 They had, in accordance with the oft-repeated desire expressed[pg 501] Music and football at the Exchange. On Sundays and holy days the Exchange was enlivened during a portion of the year with the music of the city waits, who were ordered by the Court of Aldermen (April, 1572) to play on their instruments as they had hitherto been accustomed at the Royal Exchange, from seven o'clock till eight o'clock in the[pg 502] Gresham College and Lectures. The citizens of London are indebted to Sir Thomas Gresham for something more than their Royal Exchange. By will dated 5th July, 1575, proved and enrolled in the Court of Husting,1544 Gresham disposed of the reversion of the Royal Exchange and of his mansion-house in the parish of St. Helen, Bishopsgate, after the decease of his wife, to the mayor and corporation of the city and to the wardens and commonalty of the Mercers' Company in equal moieties in trust (inter alia) for the maintenance of seven lectures on the several subjects of Divinity, Astronomy, Music, Geometry, Law, Physic and Rhetoric. In 1596 these two corporate bodies came into possession of the property, and in the following year drew up ordinances for the regulation of the various lectures. According to the terms of Gresham's will the lectures were delivered at Gresham House. When Gresham House, which escaped the Fire of London, became dilapidated, the City and the Company on more than one occasion petitioned Parliament for leave to pull it down and to erect another building on its site. The proposal, however, was not entertained, but in the year 1767 an Act was[pg 503] |
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