nditions in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, its methods and
its monopoly of the seas were gradually superseded by the great seamen
of the Elizabethan era. But in Holbein's time, though already some of
the Hanseatic ships were too overgrown to pass London Bridge and cast
anchor at their own docks just above it, there was scarce a cloud upon
the colossal prosperity of the Steelyard.

Its walled and turreted enclosure, able to withstand the fiercest
assaults of Wat Tyler's men, stretched from the river northward to
Thames Street, and from Allhallows Street on the east to Dowgate Street
on the west; and it might well have been described as a German city and
port situated in the heart of the City of London. Its massive front in
Thames Street, where were its three portcullised and fortified gateways
with German inscriptions above and the Imperial Double-Eagle high over
all, was one of the sights of London. And the Steelyard Tavern was a
famous resort. When Holbein knew it well the greatest prelates and
nobles and all the Court crowd,--which stretched its gardens and great
houses from the stream of the Fleet, just west of the City wall, to
Westminster Abbey,--used to flock to this Thames Street corner of the
Steelyard to drink Rhenish wine and eat smoked reindeer-tongue and
caviar.

Within the gates stood the big Guildhall, which answered both for its
councils and its noted banquets. The high carved mantelpieces and
wainscotting served admirably to display the glittering plate and
strange souvenirs of every known land and sea. On the walls which
Holbein's works were so to enrich hung portraits of eminent members of
the Guild. The Hall was flanked by the huge stone kitchen and by a
strong-tower for the safeguarding of special valuables. In the open
space between the Hall and the west wall of the enclosure was the
garden, where trees and flowers and a greenery of vines had been planted
in exact imitation of the gardens of the Fatherland. And here sat
Holbein among the Associates, many a time, over their good cheer,--as in
the old Basel gardens of the Blume or the Stork in other years, and
heard only the German tongue or the songs of home around him.

Away down to the docks ran the lanes of warehouses; shops and booths
where every German trader or craftsman in London had his place; and
where the merchandise of the world--the greater part of it destined for
Luebeck as a centre of European distribution--might be sampled.