The finely wrought canopied altar-tomb against the north wall, close by the Bacon brass, dates back to the fifteenth century. It is carved in Purbeck marble and at the back has two small brasses, one representing a man with five sons and the other a woman with seven daughters, all kneeling. Name and date are both gone, but a shield in the left-hand corner enables us to connect the monument with the family of Croke. Sir John Croke, it will be remembered, was one of the early wardens of Berkinge Chapel, a trustee to whom Edward IV. “conveyed lands for the support of the Chapel of St. Mary” and founder of a chantry here in 1477. This John Croke, “citizen, leather-seller, and alderman of London,” was a generous benefactor to Allhallows, leaving to it at his death many gifts and sundry legacies “to the altar of Allhallows Bkg., the works of the church, to purchase vestments and books, for the repair of the rood-loft,” and so on. It is quite probable that this memorial was used as a chantry altar, of which there were many in the church until 1547 and the beginning of “the years of spoliation.” A well-carved crest will be seen on the pavement stone covering the Marishall tomb, and, nearer the altar-steps, a grey marble slab of the year of the Great Fire lies over the grave of Sir Roger Hatton, Alderman, whose coat-of-arms may be traced near the head of the stone. On the north wall we find a memorial to Charles Wathen, “the indulgent parent of nine children,” one of which, Master William, “received his death-wound in battling with a pirate in the East Indies” and should therefore be somewhat of a hero to all boys in the adventure stage of their careers. A broken pillar on this wall was put up in 1696 in memory of Giles Lytcott, “the first Controller-General of the Customs of England and the English Colonies in America,” whose mother was the daughter of Sir Thomas Overbury, poisoned in the Tower. Pepys, in his account of the Fire of 1666, refers to an “Alderman Starling, a very rich man, without children. The fire at the next door to him in our lane (Seething Lane). After our men had saved his house he did give 2s. 6d. amongst thirty of them, and did quarrel with some that would remove the rubbish out of the way of the fire, saying that they had come to steal.” This “very rich man” was Lord Mayor in 1670, and his arms are depicted in stained glass on one of the windows of this aisle “as a remembrance of the escape of the church from the Great Fire.” Attached to the pillar behind the pulpit there remains an interesting relic in the form of an elegantly designed hat peg, the only survivor of many such pegs on the pillars of this church, dating back, it is believed, to the early seventeenth century. Above the Croke altar-tomb, to the left, there is to be seen the kneeling figure of Jerome Bonalia, an Italian, probably the Venetian Ambassador, who died in 1583 and, in his will, thus indicates his