he had done so much to consolidate. He was hailed as the Conqueror of the Mountains, the Pacificator of the Isthmus, and the Discoverer of the Austral Sea. He brought with him eight hundred Indians of service, forty thousand ounces of gold, a hundred and sixty ounces of pearls, and, better still, an acquaintance with the regions he had traversed, and the character and habits of the tribes he had encountered, such as was of infinite value to all future Spanish leaders.

It would have been well for the Spanish name if Balboa had been allowed to finish the work he had so nobly begun. Spain would not then have been execrated throughout all time, in the old world and the new, for cruelty, faithlessness, fraud, avarice, and for every hideous vice in its most giant proportions; and the horrible deeds of Mexico and Peru would not have been an everlasting infamy. But Balboa had his enemies at the court of Castile, the bitterest being that commonplace and insignificant mortal, Enciso, whom by the general wish and the emphatic approval of the colonists he had displaced. It is true he had also his friends at the court, who stood up bravely against calumny and falsehood. But their ardent advocacy could not prevail on the Catholic king to continue Balboa in the high office to which he had ascended by his own genius and valour, and which he owed so little to royal favour. He was indeed named Adelantado, or Captain of the South Sea, a title carrying with it very uncertain duties and privileges. But a new governor was appointed the most striking contrast to Balboa in every respect. This was Don Pedrarias Davila, a man crafty, envious, mean, cowardly, and unscrupulous. Ferdinand fitted out an armada to accompany him at an expense of more than fifty-four thousand ducats. Two thousand adventurers, chiefly youths of good family, joined the expedition, eager for the gold and the pearls regarding which such exaggerated reports had been circulated. Pedrarias, on anchoring before Darien, on the 29th of June, 1514, immediately despatched a messenger to Balboa to inform him of his arrival. The messenger was astonished to find the conquistador, not gorgeously arrayed, sur

rounded by pomp and splendour, and with hosts of armed men guarding him, and multitudes of slaves bowing in homage and in fear before him, but attired in a cotton shirt over one of linen, a pair of coarse drawers, and with coarse hempen sandals on his feet; he was employed in directing and assisting some Indians to put fresh thatch on his house. He received the message of Pedrarias with courtesy and dignity, and declared his readiness to pay him due honour and service. The old colonists, the old companions of Balboa, did not look on the new comers with any favourable eye. They would have been glad to repel them from shores which they had made their own by years of toil, endurance, and combat. Balboa, however, gave no countenance to this disloyalty. Solemnly advancing at the head of his people, and joining with them in the Te Deum, he welcomed Pedrarias to his future government. Tragical enough must the feelings of this Sampson of the Indies have been when impelled by his sense of obedience to the majesty of Spain to bow to this decorated pigmy!

Pedrarias had no sooner entered on the control of affairs than he contrived to be immensely unpopular. He thought only of gorging his own rapacity and that of his satellites. The old colonists were discontented, the new colonists were disappointed, the Indian bosom burned with revenge for gathering wrongs and oppressions: the personal followers of Balboa could not repress their hatred, contempt, and disgust, when they saw him who had the noblest virtues of a king supplanted by one who had not the most ordinary qualities of the most subaltern magistrate. Though Balboa gave Pedrarias his energetic co-operation, yet the governor had determined, from the moment he landed, on Balboa's ruin. To have attempted this at first by force would have been perilous, so real and so preponderant was the conquistador's influence. Pedrarias therefore tried to ensnare Balboa by all the small trickeries that his malignant cunning could invent. While for a time a sort of approval was given to his public acts as the predecessor of Pedrarias, he was yet condemned to satisfy the claims of any private indi

viduals who could get up a pretence of injury, by which his fortune, amounting to more than ten thousand ounces of gold, was quickly devoured. This put him more completely at the mercy of his foe, who suddenly found that the revealer to the European world of the Pacific Ocean was a great criminal, who ought to be sent without delay in chains to Castile. From an act so mad and monstrous Pedrarias was dissuaded by Quevedo, the first Spanish bishop of Darien, who showed him that the appearance of Balboa at the court of Spain would inevitably awaken the deepest interest and sympathy on behalf of one who had achieved so much for the growth of the Spanish empire. Through the energetic intercession of Quevedo, whose motives however were somewhat of a selfish kind, a reconciliation was accomplished, and, as a pledge that he meant the peace to be durable, Pedrarias agreed to give Balboa the hand of his eldest daughter, who however was unfortunately in Castile, otherwise perhaps the hollow truce might have been converted into a firm alliance. Pedrarias now made a show of employing Balboa in various exploring and colonizing expeditions, but he always tried to ensure failure by making the means as inadequate as possible. At last, however, after conquering countless obstacles, Balboa obtained the command of four ships and three hundred men. Radiant with hope, with valour, with enterprise, and with grand imaginings, he was sailing exultingly on that sea which he might consider as his own domain. Boundless as that sea were his projects, rich as its pearls, beneficent as the fruits falling on its innumerable islands. He was about to do for Peru with love and wisdom what Pizarro and his legions of devils did badly and barbarously twenty years later. Brilliant are thy dreams, O Balboa, but who is this that comes to awake thee from them? Pedrarias summoned Balboa

from his ships to the port of Acla, as he wished, he said, to confer with him on matters of importance and to furnish him with fuller instructions. Balboa, unsuspecting, set out at once, disregarding all the warnings he received by the way. He had not proceeded far when he was arrested by armed men sent by the cruel, jealous, envious, narrowhearted old governor. With a heavy chain of iron round his neck he was conducted to prison, when after some mockeries of justice he was condemned to die as a rebel and a traitor. His appeal to the Emperor and the Council of the Indies was refused. All the while, nevertheless, Pedrarias affected to treat Balboa as his son-inlaw, and to be overwhelmed with sorrow for the stern measures he was compelled to adopt. Yet no one, however prejudiced against Balboa, was the dupe of this hypocrisy. When the prisoner was led forth the crier denounced him as a usurper of the lands of the crown. Raising his eyes to heaven Balboa protested that he had never cherished a thought which did not favour the Emperor's glory and the empire's aggrandizement. The multitude, after having seen with horror and compassion the head of the conquistador struck off, beheld it ignominiously stuck on a pole. The body remained exposed for twelve hours on the place of execution. Pedrarias witnessed the bloody scene from behind some canes which formed a palisade to his house. With Balboa were executed Luis Botello, Andres De Valderrabano, Herman Munoz, and Fernando Arguelles, who had remained faithful to him through all his fortunes.

Thus was perpetrated in 1517 a foul, deliberate, and most unjustifiable murder. While denouncing it as an individual's guilt we must execrate it as a nation's sin, for it was in harmony with the Spanish character, and it was never avenged.

FRANCIS HARWELL.

IN my former article on this subject, when describing the circumference of the City Wall, I omitted to mention the existence of a large piece immediately behind Bull and Mouth Street, Aldersgate. The houses on the north side of that street abut upon this portion of the wall, which has its northern face in a great measure exposed to the churchyard of St. Botolph, which occupies a large portion of the space behind the houses alluded to. When the present French church was constructed, at the corner of this street, about the year 1840, portions of the wall were exposed and destroyed.

The City Gates were among the most interesting relics of London of the middle ages that have passed away during the last century. They were seven in number, viz. Aldgate, Aldersgate, Newgate, Ludgate, Cripplegate, Moorgate, Bishopsgate. Of these, Aldgate, Bishopsgate, Moorgate, and Cripplegate escaped the ravages of the fire of 1666. Aldgate is generally considered to have been one of the original gates of the city of the Roman period, and its name conveys a tradition of its age. It would seem that Newgate was built in contradistinction to this; but on this subject we may avoid speculation, as it leads to nothing but an opinion. Aldgate stood a few feet east of the spot where Duke Street and Jewry Street run into the highway which is named from the gate. It was not an ancient structure, for it had been rebuilt in 1609, and some Roman coins were found in digging the foundation, the designs of which were sculptured by direction of the architect on the side of the portal. It may be described as having two square towers, with posterns flanking the main gateway. The more ancient gate was double, and was protected by two portcullises, one of which remained in the time of John Stowe. It was formerly appropriated as the residence of one of the Lord Mayor's carvers, but latterly used as a charity school.

Bishopsgate is next in order, but is not supposed to have had so great a claim to antiquity as others, though at the same

time it was one of those alluded to by the early chronicler of London, Fitzstephen, who lived in the reign of Henry II. Its name seems to show that it was constructed by a bishop, or in memory of a bishop, but there is no authentic record at what time, or by whom. It may be observed that, in the old gate which was rebuilt by the Hanse merchants in 1479, was the statue of a bishop in pontificals, and a fragment was discovered in 1826, consisting of the lower part of a bishop's figure, during the alterations by which Liverpool Street was made. This old gate remained, although in a ruinous condition, until the year 1731, when it was taken down and rebuilt. Its character was therefore quite modern, more so than any other of the city gates. It was merely an arch with posterns, of rusticated stone work, with no apartments over it, but surmounted by the City arms. The ancient gate had rooms appropriated to another of the Lord Mayor's Carvers, who had an allowance of 207. per annum in lieu thereof, when it was taken down.

We now come to Moorgate, so called from its proximity to the great moor or fen north of the City. This was one of the most recent of City gates, and was originally constructed by Thomas Falconer, Lord Mayor, in 1415, as Stowe says, "for the ease of the citizens that way to pass upon causeys into the field for their recreation." I have before stated it escaped the great fire, but was rebuilt in 1672, and in this design it represented a somewhat handsome dwelling of two stories, adorned with pilasters of the Corinthian order, and a semicircular pediment above, containing the City arms, surmounting a lofty arch with two posterns. It was allotted as a dwelling for the third of the Lord Mayor's Carvers.

Cripplegate is next in order, and probably contained, at the time of its demolition, more of antiquity than any other of the gates. The period of its first construction is uncertain, but it bears part in the legendary story of

Saint Edmund, whose body is said to have passed through it and conferred the blessing of cure upon the cripples, so that the "lame went upright, praising God."

This gate was rebuilt in 1244 by the brewers of London, and again in 1491 from the bequest of Edmund Shaw, goldsmith; and it is clear from the design that this same structure remained, with some alterations made at a repair in 1663, down to the time of the general demolition of the city gates in 1760. It had its arch flanked by two tall octangular towers, embattled, and one postern opening on its east side. The apartments within it were used by the City water-bailiff, but in earlier times the gate was used as a prison for debtors and common trespassers. It may be here observed, as two more of the city gates were used as prisons, that it seems to have been a custom of some antiquity to appropriate gates to such a purpose, so that gate-house" was a term synonymous with prison.

Aldersgate was perhaps one of the original Roman gates, as it was certainly on one of the main roads. The original gate had buildings added to it containing several rooms, and in the additions on the east side was a deep well curbed with stone, which rose up as high as two stories from the ground. John Day, the celebrated printer, once lived here, and it appears from Stowe that he built considerably upon the city wall, from the gate towards the church of St. Anne, this fact illustrates the way in which this ancient defence became hidden and encumbered by dwellings. The old gate being ruinous was pulled down in 1616, and that which succeeded it resembled Aldgate, erected at or near the same period; only, one of the flanking towers is represented as rising a story higher than the other, but this might be the result of the injury this gate sustained in the Great Fire. After that event it was repaired at the charge of the City, A.D. 1670. It was ornamented with the effigies of King James I. on horseback on the north face, and on the south the same king was represented as sitting in his chair of state. This compliment was in consequence of that monarch having first entered London through Aldersgate; and it

had further adornments in the effigies of the prophets Samuel and Jeremiah, with texts from Scripture, having allusion to the fact of the royal entry, viz.: "Then shall enter into the gates of this city kings and princes, sitting upon the throne of David, riding in chariots and on horses, they and their princes, the men of Judah, and the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and this city shall remain for ever." (Jer. ch. xvii. ver. 15.) The other ran thus, " And Samnel said unto all Israel, Behold, I have hearkened unto your voice in all that you have said unto me, and have made a King over you." (1 Sam. ch. xii. ver. 1.) This gate was the abode of the Common Crier.

The next was called Newgate, but I do not think we can trust the chronicler's reasons for the name, except so far as it tells its own tale. It is said to have been first erected about the time of Henry I. but I know not on what authority this can be established. The most interesting fact connected with it is the antiquity of its application to the purpose of a felons' prison, of which there is record as early as the year 1218. From that time downwards the prison of Newgate has played an important part in the annals of London crime, and the gate itself survived all the rest, and was not removed with the others in 1760-61. The old gate was entirely destroyed by the conflagration of 1666, which, raging from east to west, was here more fiercely destructive than on the northern parts of the city. The structure which succeeded possessed a good deal of medieval character, being imitated from the gates of the close of the fifteenth century or beginning of the sixteenth; in fact it was nearly copied from the old gate. The gate of St. James's Palace is not very dissimilar. In later times a quadrangle was attached to its southern side for the reception of prisoners, and was destroyed soon after a reconstruction by the rioters of 1780.

Ludgate is the last to be noticed. It stood across the street named after it, immediately opposite the London Coffee House. Many speculations have been made to account for its name, some deriving it from the apocryphal King Lud, others again from words Vleot or Vleod, from its proximity to

the River Fleet. I will leave this to be settled by the philologists, as it is a matter of small importance to my subject. The ancient gate was destroyed in 1666 by the Great Fire, and we happen to possess a curious painting of that catastrophe, in which it forms a prominent object in the foreground; accordingly we are thus made acquainted with its pristine appearance. This picture shows that the quadrangular building attached to the gate had already been destroyed by the fire, but the gate itself remains. It was an irregular structure, like many medieval buildings, whose outline was generally determined by the purpose required rather than by an attention to a formal arrangement. The gateway was flanked by square towers embattled, that on the south side having the addition of a stair turret; some additional erections of a later period were added to the summit, and it was defended by a portcullis, which is shown prominently in the painting alluded to. The structure which succeeded this at the rebuilding of the city bore very little analogy to an old city entrance gate, and was entirely dictated by the requirements and conveniences of a debtors' prison. It represented a square-fronted edifice, surmounting an archway and two side posterns, and consisted of two stories above the basement, which were ornamented with pilasters of the Corinthian order and escucheons of the royal arms. In a niche over the entrance was placed the statue of Queen Elizabeth, which is now preserved in a corner adjoining St. Dunstan's Church, Fleet Street. On the other side were the figures of the fabled King Lud and his two sons, Androgeus and Theomantius, attired in Roman armour, as interpreted in the seventeenth century, and with long flowing wigs. They are engraved in Smith's Antiquities of London, 1795, at which time they had descended to the bone-house of the parish. Ludgate, as the ancient debtors' prison of the city of London, possessed some curious traditions; but I think that the oft-repeated story of Stephen Forster begging at the grate, and having his debts paid by a rich widow who passed by, fell in love with him and became his wife, must be classed

amongst London legends, although we have it on the respectable authority of old John Stowe. However, we gain this truth, that he and his lady became benefactors to the prison, and also the record of the ancient practice of poor debtors begging, which the present generation must remember to have been observed at the Fleet Prison. "Pray remember the poor debtors" was a pitiful cry which, with the chinking of a money-box, greeted the ears of the passers-by until that prison became disused.

The ordinances for the rule of this prison were extremely curious, and probably existed, with scarce a variation of importance, until the gate was removed. They were published in 1659 by M. Johnson, a printer, who had been imprisoned there, in a work entitled "Ludgate; what it is, not what it was," &c. &c., and they have but very little analogy with modern prison regulations. The officers were

a

master keeper, a reader of divine service, an upper steward called the master of the box, an under steward, seven assistants, a running assistant, two churchwardens, a scavenger, a chamberlain, a running post, and the criers or beggars at the grates, generally six in number." The prisoners elected from among themselves the two stewards, the assistants, and the churchwardens, on the first Tuesday of every month. The reader was chosen by the master keeper, stewards, and assistants, and had a salary of two and eightpence a month, a penny from every debtor at his entrance, and a dish of meat out of the Lord Mayor's basket. The upper steward was an officer of importance; he had the distribution of all provisions sent by the Lord Mayor and others, and the alms received at the grates he laid out weekly in bread, candles, and other necessaries. The under steward was deputy to the upper steward, and in case of indisposition or absence of the former performed his office. The assistants, seven in number, were elected monthly, and it was their duty to enter all charities, and to keep account of the money taken out of the begging boxes. Every person refusing to serve in that office paid a shilling to the common stock, or was obliged to wear fetters