must
have added considerable life and animation to the town.

We have seen the noble in his town house, the merchant in his fine
dwelling. Let us visit the artizan and small tradesman. The earliest
historian of London, Fitzstephen, tells us that the two great evils of
his time were "the immoderate drinking of foolish persons and the
frequent fires." In early times the houses were built of wood, roofed
with straw or stubble thatch. Hence when a single house caught fire, the
conflagration spread, as in the reign of Stephen, when a fire broke out
at London Bridge; it spread rapidly, destroyed St. Paul's, and extended
as far as St. Clement Danes. Hence in the first year of Richard I. it
was enacted that the lower story of all houses in the city should be
built with stone, and the roof covered with thick tiles. The tradesman
or artizan had a small house with a door, and a window with a double
shutter arrangement, the upper part being opened and turned outwards,
forming a penthouse, and the lower a stall. Minute regulations were
passed as to the height of the penthouse, which was not to be less than
nine feet, so as to enable "folks on horseback to ride beneath them,"
and the stall was not to project more than two and a half feet. In this
little house the shoemaker, founder, or tailor lived and worked; and as
you passed down the narrow street, which was very narrow and very
unsavoury, with an open drain running down the centre, you would see
these busy townsfolk plying their trades and making a merry noise.

A very amusing sketch of the appearance of London at this period, and of
the manners of the inhabitants, is given in Lydgate's _London's
Lickpenny_. A poor countryman came to London to seek legal redress for
certain grievances. The street thieves were very active, for as soon as
he entered Westminster his hood was snatched from his head in the midst
of the crowd in broad daylight. In the streets of Westminster he was
encountered by Flemish merchants, strolling to and fro, like modern
pedlars, vending hats and spectacles, and shouting, "What will you buy?"
At Westminster Gate, at the hungry hour of mid-day, there were bread,
ale, wine, ribs of beef, and tables set out for such as had wherewith to
pay. He proceeded on his way by the Strand, at that time not so much a
street as a public road connecting the two cities, though studded on
each side by the houses of noblemen; and, having entered London, he
found it resounding