alse roof was erected, and by the end of the
year the aisles were leaded in. On the 1st of November, the same year,
the mayor, aldermen, and crafts, with eighty torch-bearers, went to
attend service at St. Paul's. The steeple, however, was never
re-erected, in spite of Queen Elizabeth's angry remonstrances.

In the first year of Philip and Mary, the Common Council of London
passed an act which shows the degradation into which St. Paul's had sunk
even before the fire. It forbade the carrying of beer-casks, or baskets
of bread, fish, flesh, or fruit, or leading mules or horses through the
Cathedral, under pain of fines and imprisonment. Elizabeth also issued a
proclamation to a similar effect, forbidding a fray, drawing of swords
in the church, or shooting with hand-gun or dagg within the church or
churchyard, under pain of two months' imprisonment. Neither were
agreements to be made for the payment of money within the church. Soon
after the fire, a man that had provoked a fray in the church was set in
the pillory in the churchyard, and had his ears nailed to a post, and
then cut off. These proclamations, however, led to no reform. Cheats,
gulls, assassins, and thieves thronged the middle aisle of St. Paul's;
advertisements of all kinds covered the walls, the worst class of
servants came there to be hired; worthless rascals and disreputable
flaunting women met there by appointment. Parasites, hunting for a
dinner, hung about a monument of the Beauchamps, foolishly believed to
be the tomb of the good Duke Humphrey. Shakespeare makes Falstaff hire
red-nosed Bardolph in St. Paul's, and Ben Jonson lays the third act of
his _Every Man in his Humour_ in the middle aisle. Bishop Earle, in his
"Microcosmography," describes the noise of the crowd of idlers in Paul's
"as that of bees, a strange hum mixed of walking tongues and feet, a
kind of still roar or loud whisper." He describes the crowd of young
curates, copper captains, thieves, and dinnerless adventurers and
gossip-mongers. Bishop Corbet, that jolly prelate, speaks of

"The walk,
Where all our British sinners swear and talk,
Old hardy ruffians, bankrupts, soothsayers,
And youths whose cousenage is old as theirs."

On the eve of the election of Sandys as Bishop of London, May, 1570, all
London was roused by a papal bull against Elizabeth being found nailed
on the gates of the bishop's palace. It declared her crown forfeited and
her peo