the old Knight
who cut off the King of the Moors's head."

* * * * * *

[Illustration: St. Edmund's Chapel, showing the Tomb of the Duchess of
Suffolk, Lady Jane Grey's mother]

* * * *

ST. EDMUND'S CHAPEL, SHOWING THE TOMB OF THE DUCHESS OF SUFFOLK, LADY
JANE GREY'S MOTHER

This chapel is dedicated to St. Edmund, the martyred King of East Anglia.
The illustration shows part of the Duchess of Suffolk's altar tomb with
her recumbent effigy, while beyond, Prince John of Eltham's monument is
partly visible against the screen; above the screen are the canopies over
the tombs of Richard II. and his Queen, and Edward III. The red velvet
pall over the shrine of Edward the Confessor shows between the canopy and
tomb of Edward III.

* * * * * *

Our friends from the States will certainly pause before the monument of
that ill-fated young British officer, Major Andre, for upon it is a small
figure of General Washington. Andre, caught within the American lines
during our war with the colonies, dressed as a civilian, and with
suspicious papers in his boots, was hanged as a spy and buried beneath
the gallows. We see Andre here vainly petitioning Washington for a
soldier's death, while in the background all is prepared for his
ignominious {37} fate. The heads of both these statuettes were
constantly stolen by tourists in old days, as far back in fact as the
time of Lamb, and a fresh supply was always kept in stock by the Clerk of
the Works. Andre's bones, brought back to his native country, forty-one
years after his death, by a royal prince, were buried near the monument,
which was erected earlier at the expense of George III.

Beyond the gate, to our left, another pictorial monument appeals to
Londoner and countryman alike, for here is represented the assassination
of Tom of the Ten Thousand, a younger member of that well-known Dorset
family the Thynnes, Marquesses of Bath. His murderers were hired by a
notorious foreign count who desired to gain Thynne's rich young bride for
his own wife, but failed to persuade the lady to recognise his claims.
The cockney gazes in wonder at Pall Mall as it appeared in 1682, when it
was a lonely road between meadows, where highwaymen were apt to demand
your money or your life. The Welshman, if one be here, is pleased to
recognise a countryman in the coachman, whose descendants long boasted