and Abbey of Westminster, there is no spot in London the history of which is so chequered, or which has witnessed scenes of such deep and varied interest as Smithfield. Here, in the days of our Norman sovereigns, the citizens and apprentices contended in their manly exercises. Here were held those gorgeous tournaments, when the vast area was a scene of glittering armour, streaming pennons, and balconies covered with cloth of gold. Here was the Tyburn of London, where the most atrocious criminals expiated their crimes on the gibbet. Here perished the patriot Wallace, and the gentle Mortimer. Here were held the trials by duel so famous in history. Here, at the dawn of the Reformation, took place those terrible autos-da-fè, at which our forefathers earned their crowns of martyrdom; and, lastly, from the days of Henry the Second to our own time, here were annually celebrated the orgies and humours of Bartholomew Fair, immortalized by the wit of Ben Jonson and by the pencil of Hogarth.

Many remarkable tournaments are recorded as having taken place at Smithfield, especially during the reign of Edward the Third. Here that warlike monarch frequently entertained with feats of arms his illustrious captives, the Kings of France and Scotland; and here, in 1374, towards the close of his long reign, the doting monarch sought to gratify his beautiful mistress, Alice Pierce, by rendering her the "observed of all observers" at one of the most magnificent tournaments of which we have any record. Gazing with rapture on her transcendant beauty, he conferred on her the title of "Lady of the Sun," and taking her by the hand in all the blaze of jewels and loveliness, conducted her from the royal apartments in the Tower in a triumphal chariot, in which he took his place by her side. Accompanying them was a procession consisting of the rank and beauty of the

land; each lady being mounted on a beautiful palfrey, and having her bridle held by a knight on horseback.

A no less magnificent tournament, to which invitations had been sent to the flower of chivalry at all the courts of Europe, was held at Smithfield in the succeeding reign of Richard the Second. The opening of the festivities, which lasted several days, is graphically painted by Froissart, who was not improbably a witness of the gorgeous scene. "At three o'clock on the Sunday after Michaelmas day the ceremony began. Sixty horses in rich trappings, each mounted by an esquire of honour, were seen advancing in a stately pace from the Tower of London. Sixty ladies of rank, dressed in the richest elegance of the day, followed on their palfreys one after another, each leading by a silver chain a knight completely armed for tilting. Minstrels and trumpets accompanied them to Smithfield amidst the shouting population. There the Queen and her fair train received them. The ladies dismounted, and withdrew to their allotted seats, while the knights mounted their steeds, laced their helmets, and prepared for the encounter. They tilted at each other till dark. They all then adjourned to a sumptuous banquet, and dancing consumed the night till fatigue compelled every one to seek repose. The next day the warlike sport recommenced. Many were unhorsed; many lost their helmets, but they all persevered with eager courage and emulation, till night again summoned them to their supper, dancing, and concluding rest. The festivities were again repeated on the third day." The court subsequently removed to Windsor, where King Richard renewed his splendid hospitalities, and at their conclusion dismissed his foreign guests with many valuable presents.

Appeals to arms in cases of disputed guilt, or, as they were styled, trials by battle, were, as has been already men

tioned, anciently accustomed to take place at Smithfield. The amusing combat between Horner and Peter, in the second part of Henry the Sixth,* was borrowed by Shakspeare on a real fact related both by Grafton and Holinshed. A master armourer of the name of William Catour, having been accused of treason by his apprentice, John Davy, and the former strenuously denying his guilt, a day was appointed for them to decide the point at issue by single combat at Smithfield. The armourer, there is no doubt, was an innocent man. Unfortunately, however, for him, on the morning of the duel his friends, to use the words of Grafton, plied him with so much "malmsey and aquavite," that he fell an easy prey to his accuser. The "false servant," however, did not long evade the hands of justice. “Being convicted of felony," says Holinshed, "in a court of assize, he was judged to be hanged, and so he was at Tyburn." Among the Cottonian MSS. in the British Museum, are preserved the original warrants authorizing the combat, from which it appears that, previous to the encounter, the combatants were instructed in the use of arms by persons nominated and paid by the Crown. The last single combat which need be mentioned, as having taken place at Smithfield, was the celebrated one fought in 1467 between the Bastard of Burgundy, brother of Charles Duke of Burgundy, and Anthony Lord Scales, brother-in-law to King Edward the Fourth. The Bastard, it seems, having challenged Lord Scales "to fight with him both on horseback and foot," King Edward not only gave his consent to the encounter, but expressed his intention of being present. Accordingly, on the appointed day, the ladies of the court, escorted by the principal nobility of the realm, took their places in the magnificent galleries appropriated for them, shortly after * Act ii., scene 3.

which the rival knights made their appearance in the lists. The duel was continued during three successive days. On the first day they fought on foot with spears, and "parting with equal honour." The next day they encountered each other on horseback. "The Lord Scales's horse," writes Stow, "having on his chafron a long spear pike of steel, as the two champions coped together the same horse thrust his pike into the nostrils of the Bastard's horse, so that for very pain he mounted so high that he fell on the one side with his master, and the Lord Scales rode about him with his sword drawn, till the King commanded the Marshal to help up the Bastard." The Bastard, having regained his legs, entreated permission to renew the combat, but the King peremptorily refused his consent. The final encounter, however, was merely deferred till the following morning, when, surrounded as before by all the beauty and chivalry of the land, the rival knights again made their appearance in the lists, armed on this occasion with pole-axes, and contending on foot. The fight was continued valiantly on both sides, till Lord Scales having succeeded in thrusting the point of his pole-axe into an aperture in the Bastard's helmet, and thus nearly forced him on his knees, the King, to prevent fatal consequences, threw down his warder and compelled them to separate. In vain the Bastard entreated to be allowed to renew the combat. It was the opinion of the two referees-the Constable and the Earl Marshal-that in such case Lord Scales, by the law of arms, was entitled to be placed in the same advantageous position which he had. obtained when the King threw down his warder, and accordingly, under these circumstances, the Bastard consented to withdraw his demand, and King Edward declared the combat to be at an end.

Many remarkable executions have taken place in ancient

times at the Elms in Smithfield, so called, according to Stow, "that there grew there many elm-trees." Among these we may mention the horrible end of one John Roose, who was boiled to death in a caldron in 1530, for having administered poison to seventeen persons belonging to the household of the Bishop of Rochester, two of whom died. Eleven years afterwards, a young woman, of the name of Mary Davie, suffered the same terrible fate for a similar crime.

At Smithfield many holy persons suffered martyrdom in the flames. Here died at the stake the first female martyr in England, Joan Boughton, a lady of some consideration in the reign of Henry the Seventh, and at the time of her death more than eighty years of age. So highly was she esteemed for her many virtues, that after her martyrdom her ashes were carefully collected during the night, and preserved as relics for pious and affectionate remembrance. She left behind her a daughter, the Lady Young, who suffered with equal constancy the same cruel death for the sake of the religion which she conscientiously believed to be the truth.

A still more interesting person who suffered martyrdom at Smithfield, was the amiable and high-minded Anne Askew. To such frightful tortures had she been previously subjected on the rack, in order to extort from her a recantation of her errors, that when she was led forth from the Tower to perish in the flames, opposite St. Bartholomew's Church, her limbs were so mangled and disjointed that it required the assistance of two sergeants to support her. She remained firm, however, and undaunted to the last. Strype informs us that one who visited her in the Tower a few hours before her execution was so struck with the sweet serenity of her countenance, that he compared it to the face of St. Stephen "as it had been that of an angel." At the