In the eighteenth century the Courts of Justice (Chancery and King's Bench) were held here, and as the hall was also lined with shops, and the babble and walking to and fro were incessant, it is not wonderful that justice was sometimes left undone. It would be difficult--nay, impossible--to tell in detail all the strange historic scenes enacted in Westminster Hall in the limited space at disposal, and as they are all concerned rather with the nation than with Westminster, mere mention of the principal ones will be enough. Henry II. caused his eldest son to be crowned in the hall in his own lifetime, at which ceremony the young Prince disdainfully asserted he was higher in rank than his father, having a King for father and a Queen for mother, whereas his father could only claim blood royal on the mother's side. Edward III. here received King John of France, brought captive by the Black Prince. In 1535 Sir Thomas More was tried here; later there were many trials, the greatest of which was that of King Charles I., followed by that of the regicides, brought to justice and the fruit of their crimes in a way they had not expected when they took prominent parts in the first great drama. Cromwell's head was stuck upon the southern gable of the hall, where it remained for twenty years. The trial of the Seven Bishops caused great excitement, that of Lords Kenmure and Derwentwater hardly less. Lord Byron was tried in Westminster Hall, and every child has heard of the arraignment of Warren Hastings. Surely, if ever a building had memories of historic dramas, played upon its floor as on a stage, it is Rufus's great hall at Westminster. Parliament was first called to Westminster in Edward I.'s reign. The Commons sat for 300 years in the Abbey Chapter-house, then for 300 years more in St. Stephen's Chapel. In 1790 a report on the buildings declared them to be defective and in great danger of fire, a prophecy fulfilled in 1834. On the evening of October 16 in that year the wife of a doorkeeper saw a light under one of the doors, and gave an alarm. The place was made for a bonfire; a strong wind blowing from the south, and afterwards south-west, drove the flames along the dried woodwork and through the draughty passages. As the flames got a stronger and stronger hold, the scene from the further bank of the river was magnificent. Until three o'clock the next day the fire raged, and Westminster Hall and the crypt of St. Stephen's Chapel alone survived the wreck. The cause of the fire is said to have been the heating of the flues by some workmen burning a quantity of tallies or ancient notched sticks.