churchyard of the present church of St. Mary Magdalen are some pieces of the wall that surrounded the gardens and church of the Cluniacs.

But there are two other memorials of the Abbey, which are not likely to

perish with the establishment to which they belonged. In the church of St. Mary, a handsome edifice, built on the site of a smaller one erected by the monks at a very early period (it is supposed for the use of their servants and tenants), is a very curious ancient salver, of silver, now used for the collection of alms. On the centre is a beautifully chased representation of the gate of a castle or town, with two figures, a knight kneeling before a lady, who is about to place his helmet on his head. The long-pointed solleretts of the feet, the ornaments of the arm-pits, and the form of the helmet, are supposed to mark the date of the salver as that of Edward II. The other memorial to which we have referred is of a much more interesting character. In the Chronicle of Bermondsey before mentioned we read at one part as follows:

:

"Anno Domini 1117. The cross of St. Saviour is found near the Thames." And again, under the date of 1118," William Earl of Morton was miraculously liberated from the Tower of London through the power of the holy cross." This Earl of Morton was a son of the nobleman mentioned in Domesday. It appears he had as much faith as the monks could have desired in the truth of the miracle, for the Chronicle subsequently states, "In the year 1140 William Earl of Morton came to Bermondsey, and assumed the monastic habit." Before we pursue the history of this Holy Cross, which we have no doubt was the Saxon cross found in the manner commemorated, we may observe that pilgrimages to churches and shrines were, according to Fosbroke, the most ancient and universal of all pilgrimages. If the Saxon cross had not been set up at Ber

mondsey before Earl Morton's release, it would assuredly have been raised immediately after. These pilgrimages were remarkably profitable things to a monastery. Sir David Lindsay, the old Scottish poet and church reformer, has given us an agreeable account of the feelings and customs once universally prevalent with regard to this kind of idolatrous worship of "imagery," which, says the poet finely,-of the

unlearned be the books;

For when the laicks on them looks
It brings them to rememberance
Of Saintes lives the circumstance;
How, the faith for to fortify,
They suffered pain right patiently.
Seeing the image on the rood,
Men should remember on the blood
Which Christ into his passion

Did shed for our salvation;

Or when thou seest the portraiture

Of blessed Virgin Mary pure,

A pleasant babe upon her knee,

Then in thy mind remember thee

The worde which the prophet said,

How she should be both mother and maid.

But who that sitteth on their knees,
Praying to many imageries

With oration and offerands,

Kneeling with cup into their hands,

No difference be I say to thee

From the Gentile's idolatry."

Sir David's doctrine obtained wide acceptance; and one of the earliest popular manifestations of Protestant feeling was the destruction of all these "imageries," including, no doubt, many an exquisite and matchless piece of workmanship that the Protestant world of the present day could well wish to have been spared. In the account of St. Paul's Cross is given a description of the striking circumstances that attended the destruction of the Rood of Grace from Kent. The degradation of the Rood of Bermondsey was, it appears, an appendix to that day's proceedings. In an ancient diary of a citizen, preserved among the Cottonian MSS., under the date of 1558, occurs the following passage:-" M. Gresham, mayor. On Saint Matthew's day, the apostle, the 24th day of February, Sunday, did the Bishop of Rochester preach at Paul's Cross, and had standing afore him all his sermon-time the picture* of Rood of Grace in Kent, and was [i. e. which had been] greatly sought with pilgrims, and when he had made an end of his sermon, was torn all in pieces; then was the picture of Saint Saviour, that had stood in Barmsey Abbey many years, in Southwark, taken down." "Taken down" are the words, not "destroyed." If the reader will turn to the engraving at the end of this paper, he will see, in the front of the building attached to the chief or north gate, the rude representation of a small cross, with some zigzag, Saxon-like ornaments, the whole being evidently something placed upon or let into the wall, not a part of the original building; and there it

This word was often used to express an image, or statue.

remained till the comparatively recent destruction of the pile. Going further back, we find the same cross in the same situation in 1679, when a drawing was made of the remains of the Abbey, which was afterwards engraved by Wilkinson. There can then, we think, be no doubt, apart from the corroborative evidence of tradition, that this is the old Saxon cross found near the Thames, or that it is a part of the "picture" before which pilgrims used to congregate in the old conventual church.

It is a bold act to take up arms against old proverbs-those condensed epitomes of worldly wisdom, which charm by their brevity quite as much as by their truth: yet to the dictum that "two of a trade can never agree" we feel impelled to reply by pointing to BERMONDSEY. The inhabitants of that land of leather, that region of skins and pelts, afford a significant contradiction to the proverb: there are many "of one trade" here congregated, and we have reason for knowing that they "agree" very well. Why it is that the bazaar-system of the East is thus acted on in many parts of London-why it is that we find the watchmakers in one locality, the silkweavers in another, the sugar-refiners in a third-need not here be discussed; but there appears reason for believing, as we shall endeavour to explain farther on, that the selection of Bermondsey as a "local habitation" for the leather-manufacturers is greatly dependent on a series of tide-streams which intersect the district, and which afford that abundant supply of water so indispensably necessary in the manufacture. Be the cause what it may, however, the fact is certain, that almost the whole circle of operations connected with this manufacture, so far as the metropolis is concerned, are met with in Bermondsey:

VOL. III.

C

indeed it is scarcely too much to say that the history of a sheep's-skin and of an ox-hide forms the staple material for a description of this spot.

There are, however, other features which render modern Bermondsey a remarkable spot. It has been said that "there is a greater variety of trades and manufactures carried on in this parish than in any one parish besides throughout the kingdom;" and although we doubt whether the means exist for making this determination, or, if existing, whether they have been properly estimated, yet the great diversity of operations is observable at a glance. Like as the Eastern Counties Railway forms a point of sight from which the dwellings of the Spitalfields weavers may be conveniently seen,* so will a trip on the Greenwich Railway reveal to us many of the characteristic features of Bermondsey, which it intersects from north-west to south-east. No sooner do we mount one of the railway carriages (and let all who would look about them select an open carriage) than we find ourselves in close vicinage to manufactories and tanneries. Chimneys innumerable shoot up at intervals of a few yards, towering above a very maze of red roofs, and furnishing their contribution to the smoky atmosphere of the neighbourhood. It is chiefly on the south-western side of the railway, and within a mile of London Bridge, that these factory-chimneys are met with. A closer glance will detect other general features in the district; we shall see vacant spaces or yards, surrounding or connected with many of the buildings, and exhibiting evidences of the tanners', the fell-mongers', the leather-dressers', or the parchment-makers' operations. We shall see that many of the buildings are so constructed as to allow free access of air to all parts of the interior: these are tanners' drying-lofts. We shall see long, low, tile-covered buildings, principally north-eastward of the railway: these are rope-walks. We shall see large areas of ground in which low sheds or open boxes are ranged by dozens in parallel rows: these are glue-factories. We shall see many lofty warehouses, with cranes and doors at various parts of their height: these are wool-warehouses. But the railway traveller soon observes a remarkable change in the appearance of the district which he is traversing; he finds himself suddenly transferred to a neighbourhood of nursery-grounds and market-gardens-speckled here and there, it is true, with tanneries and other factories—but exhibiting the general features of open country; and this is the character of the district from thence to Deptford and Greenwich.

It would not perhaps be far from the truth to say that Bermondsey may be regarded as a region of manufacturers, a region of market-gardeners, a region of wholesale dealers, and a maritime region, according to the quarter where we take our stand. Were we indeed to confine ourselves strictly to the parochial limits, the features would include little of the two latter; but we are not so strictly limited, and shall perhaps include a little of St. Olave's, and of one or two other parishes, in our remarks on Bermondsey generally.

To the dwellers north of the Thames it is perhaps generally known that Bermondsey lies south-east of London Bridge, while the burghers of Southwark can define the spot more closely. The parochial boundary embraces a portion of the banks of the Thames eastward of Dockhead; extends from thence in an irregu

* London-No. XLIX. 'Spitalfields,' p. 385.*